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jingabitch · 5 years ago

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Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell ch.1

Summary: When you were ten, Taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. Now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

Pairing: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

Word count: 10.5k

A/N: here it is!! I hope you enjoy it and tell me what you think; I was really unsure about writing this, especially at the beginning. Edit: I will not be doing a taglist, so please don't ask. Thank you!

Series index

“Hyung –” Taehyung whined as he sulked on the couch of the dorm.

Yoongi sighed, looking over at his team member. “What is it, Taehyung-ie?”

“I’m bored,” Taehyung replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he slid down on the couch, his usually perky ears drooping.

The snow leopard hybrid just grunted, flicking one of his ears in irritation. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Hyung, come play with me, please?”

Namjoon, who was lying on the adjacent couch, stifled a snicker. Taehyung had been more needy than usual in the past few weeks, and he was working Yoongi’s last nerve. The older man had inherited his animal counterpart’s solitary tendencies, and while he was, for the most part, happy to socialize and hang out with the rest of them, Taehyung had been cutting into his alone time a little too much lately with his neediness, and the grey-haired hybrid was Not Happy.

Jin, their resident spotted hyena hybrid, laughed, a sound very reminiscent of his animal counterpart’s trademark sound. “Yoongi, just play with him. He’s lonely.”

Yoongi scowled. “Why do I have to do it?! Isn’t this why you got a pet in the first place, to keep you company?”

Taehyung’s frown deepened. “It is, but as you can clearly see,” he bit out, upset now, “Yeontan isn’t here.”

Hoseok, seeing the snow leopard hybrid taking in a deep breath to begin ranting, cut into the conversation to save the wolf hybrid from a scolding. “Hyung, you know how Tae is. He misses the company, is all.”

“Why don’t you just get another pet, then?” Yoongi asked.

“Because the same thing would happen, hyung,” Taehyung responded drolly, unable to hide his irritation at what he clearly thought was a ridiculous suggestion. “I don’t want to get attached to another pet, and then have to palm it off onto my parents again.”

Namjoon, ever the problem solver, lit up in that way that happened only when he had a eureka moment. “Get a human, then!”

The rest of them gawked at him. “A human?!” Jin asked skeptically.

“Yah, if he didn’t have time for a dog, how’s he going to care for a human baby? They’re even more high maintenance, and for way longer!” Yoongi snapped.

Namjoon made a rude noise. “Don’t get a baby, then! There’s lots of children and adolescents in shelters that need good homes. You can get one of those; they’re more self-sufficient.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open in shock. “That’s genius!”

Jungkook and Jimin, who had until now remained out of the conversation, immediately leapt up excitedly. “Yes, yes, can we adopt a human, pleaaaase,” Jimin pleaded. The black-footed cat hybrid, already small in stature and adorable because of his animal genes, opened his eyes wider and pouted up at the others.

Taehyung and Jungkook, seeing him, followed suit, and before long, the other members conceded, and they’d agreed to get a human pet. Taehyung, excited now that he was going to have a new little pack member to take care of and keep him company, immediately ran to get his laptop so he could research human shelters in Seoul.

Two hundred years ago, humans created hybrids in science labs. Splicing human genes with animals was supposed to create the perfect servant, companion and soldier – with the intelligence and capacity for emotional connection of humans and the superior physical capabilities of other animals, these new creations were supposed to make life better for humans.

What the scientists hadn’t realized, in their hubris, was that it was extraordinarily likely that the hybrids wouldn’t be content merely taking orders and serving the whims of humans, who were, after all, genetically inferior to their artificial perfection. A revolution and reordering of society occurred, and now humans were the pets, bred for the sole purpose of being the best possible companions for their hybrid owners.

You understood this history well enough, thanks to the kindly old hybrid who adopted you as a baby to soothe her empty nest syndrome after her grown-up children moved out and began their own lives, and her husband sadly passed away. She’d given you far more than she was obliged to as an owner, even ensuring that you had a basic education.

It had been a couple of years since she’d unfortunately passed away suddenly from a massive heart attack, landing you in a shelter when none of her family members wanted to take you in. Now that you were ten, you understood that the likelihood of you staying in the shelter for the rest of your childhood grew exponentially each day, as most families wanted babies or toddlers that would be more attached to their adopted families.

Plus, everyone loves babies.

You sighed as you pushed the covers off yourself. You’d finally managed to get a coveted bottom bunk bed after one of the girls in your room was adopted out, and you felt like you should be happier about it.

If only it wasn’t so sad to be happy about getting a bottom bunk in a shelter, after years of waiting your turn. You hoped against all hope that you wouldn’t spend much time in this bunk, that you’d be going home with another family soon, and you promised yourself there and then that if you ever got adopted, you’d do whatever it took to make your new family happy for saving you from this drudgery.

As you made your way to the cafeteria for breakfast, you noticed that there seemed to be a lot more… buzzing than usual. You shrugged it off – you’d been here long enough to know that it just meant a high-profile visit was scheduled for the day, and all of the children were told to dress up and be on their best behavior.

Picking up a tray and lining up for your breakfast, you held in a sigh. Most people are looking for babies and toddlers, and it’s rare that anyone wants to adopt at a shelter. Even when they do, they go for younger children, who are still cute and cuddly.

Well, not that you weren’t cuddly. It was literally in your genetic makeup to crave physical affection because hybrids like to snuggle with their pets, but you’d lost that cute doe-eyed helplessness that hybrid clients like in their pets. With a sigh, you took your tray and sat in a corner to eat, unwilling to listen to the excited chatter of the younger children. You weren’t that hopeful anymore, and it hurt too much after the first few times to get all excited and put in effort, only to not be chosen at the end of the day.

Finishing your breakfast, the same porridge with kimchi and laver that you have every morning, you went back to your room to wait. It’s standard procedure – every child has to remain by their bed in their room when the prospective client arrives and takes a tour to find the child they want to bring home.

With a sigh, you sat on your bed, propping the pillow up against the metal frame of your bunk bed, to continue reading the book you’d begged off from one of the caretakers. Most of the human children couldn’t read, because it wasn’t mandatory to teach them and many of them were rescued off the streets, but the grandmother who owned you before had taught you the basics.

You were still engrossed in the story – a classic from hundreds of years ago about a boy who found out he was a wizard and went to a school called Hogwarts – when Taehyung arrives, flanked by Namjoon on one side and Jimin on the other. The leader had accompanied Taehyung to restrain him and keep him from getting every child in the shelter, and Jimin had just wanted to see cute human children and give his two cents’ worth on the human they eventually adopted.

Because, as he said, he was Taehyung’s best friend so a pet Taehyung adopted would naturally be his business. The others didn’t quite buy it, but Taehyung seemed okay with him tagging along, so he cleared his schedule and came.

The matronly caretaker at the shelter, a middle-aged dog hybrid, came out to greet them excitedly when they arrived, gushing about all the cute children they had in the shelter, and how she hoped they would find their perfect match today.

They nodded and listened politely as she ushered them into her office, where she went over the ground rules for today. No pictures, no yelling, disturbing the children, et cetera. If there was a child they were interested in, they had to ask for permission before they were allowed to approach the child, and at all times children’s safety was paramount – if they indicated that they were uncomfortable, they could be removed from the situation without any repercussions. It was all aimed at ensuring that the humans were prioritized and felt safe in their home, and this was why Taehyung had chosen to support this shelter.

Namjoon, ever the responsible one, and Taehyung, who was dedicated to becoming a good pet owner, listened carefully as the hybrid caretaker explained what the challenges were in taking care of a human child, especially one that had lived in the shelter. Older children would be harder to train, she said, less malleable, and depending on what their circumstances had been before coming to live in the shelter, may have trauma or other psychological scars.

Jimin impatiently bounced around, aware that this was important stuff, but just excited to see some cute children and hopefully take one home today. When they finally stood up to leave the office and go to the dorm rooms where the children were waiting, Jimin could hardly keep the wide grin splitting his face under control, and Taehyung was similarly excited, the muscles under his shirt periodically tensing up as he resisted the urge to bounce along behind the caretaker. She was hardly likely to be impressed with him if he couldn’t demonstrate that he was a mature adult able to take care of a human child.

Because Taehyung had made it clear that he wanted an older, more self-sufficient human pet, the caretaker skipped the first two rooms, where the young children were, and the nursery, heading straight to your room. You were still reading your book, and she tutted as she saw you sitting there.

“Y/N, sweetie, would you like to come say hello to these nice hybrids?” she asked patiently, and you looked up from your story, surprised to see that there were indeed three men clustered behind her. Most hybrids decided on the child they wanted to bring home after seeing the younger children, so it was uncommon for you to see visitors.

You were tempted to reject the offer, but remembered your earlier promise to yourself, and smiled graciously, putting your bookmark back in and leaving your book on the bed. “Yes, ma’am,” you said sweetly, standing up and brushing imaginary lint off your skirt. “Good morning, sirs. My name is Y/N. I’m ten years old, and I’m very pleased to meet you,” you recited dutifully, remembering the spiel they taught all the children to say to visitors.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N-ah,” the tall wolf hybrid said, kneeling down so he could look you in the eye. His ears twitched slightly as he looked up at you slightly, and you smiled back. He had such a friendly demeanor that you couldn’t help but feel comfortable around him immediately. “My name is Taehyung, and these are my friends Jimin and Namjoon,” he said, pointing at the other two hybrids. You weren’t certain what kind they were, although you deduced that Namjoon was some kind of canine hybrid and Jimin, based on the cute rounded ears on top of his head, was a large cat.

“It’s a pleasure you meet you all,” you said politely, looking up at them. Your speech was crisp, delicate and refined from years of being the prized companion of a wealthy old lady.

“Likewise,” Namjoon said with a nod, and Jimin said nothing, but smiled so widely that his eyes all but disappeared. You smiled back, liking them already, and hoping that they would choose you to go home with them.

“What are you reading, Y/N-ah?” Taehyung asked, and you took his hand excitedly, bringing him to the bed where you’d left your book. He trailed after you, looking back at the other two members with a wide grin. It was so cute, how you lit up when he expressed interest in what you were reading, and how at ease you seemed to be, even initiating contact with him. You didn’t seem aware of who they were, which he supposed was to be expected, since he didn’t think humans really kept up with pop culture, and it wasn’t like you were walking around the streets of Seoul where BTS music was playing all over and their photos were plastered on every available surface in the city.

Sitting down next to you, he listened, his chin in his hand, as you chattered away excitedly about the book. Namjoon and Jimin came to squat on either side of you, and you basked in the undivided attention that you hadn’t had since your previous owner passed away.

“Who taught you how to read, Y/N-ah?” Namjoon asked when you wound down, his ears sticking out of the black hair on his head flicking slightly.

“My previous owner,” you replied.

“She seems nice,” Jimin said carefully, and young as you were, you picked up the unspoken question.

“She was,” was all you said, a little quietly and sadly. You missed her, the woman who’d asked you to call her ‘mom’ and really had acted like a mother to you.

At least, you think so – you were bred by a breeder to be a pet, and you didn’t remember your own mother, having been too young when you were separated from her.

After talking for a little while more, they excused themselves and you smiled as graciously as you knew how, returning to your book as they left the room to go back to the office to discuss things further.

“Hyung, she’s so precious,” Taehyung fairly sang, spinning around in circles with his arms spread out wide.

Namjoon was more reserved, but he agreed internally. She wasn’t rambunctious in the way that Yeontan was, but adorable all the same, in the way she’d lit up while talking about her book and how easily she’d accepted their touch, clearly happy to have the physical affection.

Jimin, way more exuberant than Namjoon, grabbed Taehyung’s hands and bounced around with him. “We’re getting a human!” he cried out in excitement as they jumped like children up and down.

The wild dog hybrid just shook his head at his two younger bandmates, before leading the way into the caretaker’s office to settle the adoption paperwork.

You returned home with them that day, to your surprise and pleasure. You hadn’t allowed yourself to hope until the caretaker came back to let you know to pack your meagre possessions, and sends you off with them. Taehyung gives you a hug when you walk out of the building with your bag to join them, and straps you safely into his car before they take off, back to his apartment.

As you were travelling there, they chattered away, filling you in on what their home will be like. You found out that they were part of a boyband that live together, and you would be moving in with all seven of them. Apart from the three hybrids in the car with you – Taehyung, who bought you, the wolf hybrid; Namjoon, the serious-looking African wild dog; and Jimin, the adorable-looking black footed cat who was sitting in the back with you – there were another four. They were all predator hybrids, something Taehyung noted with some pride, beaming at your reflection in the rearview mirror.

You smiled back uncertainly at him, apprehensive about how different the new arrangement was from your previous one but still certain that no matter what, it would still be better than living at the shelter. It hadn’t been awful – it wasn’t like you’d been abused or anything while you were there – but with how stretched thin the resources at the shelter were, it had been impossible for you to get the care and attention that you required to be emotionally and mentally healthy after all this time.

Carrying yourself as stiffly as you could, in order to leave the best first impression possible, you hugged your bag tightly to your chest and stood ramrod straight in the elevator, resisting the urge to look around curiously. Your previous owner had been wealthy, but she hadn’t been this wealthy, and you’d never been in a lift that was so opulent before.

Taehyung tugged the bag out of your arms insistently, and you relinquished it after a brief struggle for control over it. You didn’t want to put him out, feeling that he’s already done enough, adopting you and giving you what looked like it would be an amazing home, but he was stronger than you and you were also concerned that he would think you were too stubborn or headstrong if you continued fighting him, so you let it go.

When they ushered you into your new home, though, your jaw dropped and you couldn’t hold back your reaction that time. The apartment was so nice and spacious, worlds away from the shared room you’d lived in at the shelter. Taehyung laughed at your expression and whisked you off to his bedroom, which was now a shared bedroom for the two of you, showing you where everything you would need was. After getting you settled in, he led you back out by the hand to the living room, where the other boys were gathered, eagerly waiting to meet you.

And that’s how you became part of the BTS family.

Your new home was very different from the one you had spent your early childhood in. Living with seven young and energetic hybrid men meant you suddenly had companions and playmates to indulge your more rambunctious impulses, whereas before you’d always had to be calm and docile, since there was no way your previous owner would have been able to keep up with a screaming and running child on the playground. It wasn’t like it had been bad – you were naturally a quieter child, but all children need space to run and play, to expend their excess energy, and as hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to offer you that.

On the other hand, you played so much with your new family that you were completely exhausted every night, and Taehyung had to prod you to get ready for bed properly, instead of just collapsing in whatever you were wearing. He didn’t mind, though, pleased that you were having so much fun every day. Besides, having you around to dote on made all of them happy, especially Taehyung, who missed his young cousins and was still slightly bitter about how much of his siblings’ and cousins’ childhoods he hadn’t been around for, and later, his nieces and nephews.

And so you spent your adolescence in their company, making a home for yourself. It wasn’t just BTS that seemed to have adopted you – Big Hit as a whole did. The stylist noonas were utterly thrilled to finally have a little girl around on the regular, and treated you alternately like a little sister and a doll, dressing you up in all the cute girlish trends they privately sighed over but couldn’t experiment with.

Another benefit of having a human as a pet was that it was far easier to transport a person – humans were allowed on planes and buses, so you could travel with the boys. Your calming presence helped soothe frayed nerves and mediated fights, and ARMY loved watching the tender interactions between the boys, who were all predator hybrids, and the wide-eyed human child, claiming that it showed how nurturing the boys were despite their natural inclination, and how they would be good fathers someday. You even had your own little fanclub, like Yeontan had before you.

Speaking of Yeontan – the little dog had gone to live with Taehyung’s parents, so you didn’t get to see each other that often, but when you did, the two of you got along like a house on fire. Taehyung had to keep an eye on you at mealtimes to make sure most of the food on your plate wasn’t finding its way down to Yeontan, who lay casually across your feet at the dining table, while the dog was so excited to see you that he basically ignored Taehyung whenever the both of you arrived together.

The vlive of you and Yeontan taking a nap on the couch after Chuseok dinner with his family, curled up together as you whined about your tummy hurting while Taehyung, behind the camera, laughed as he teased you about being such a glutton but then went to rub your aching belly, became the most watched vlive ever, spawning a million GIFs.

It also became common for you to be somewhere in the background of Namjoon’s vlives, reading a book on his couch, while he chatted with fans. After many requests for you to appear on Eat Jin, you did eventually do an episode with him, although he spent the whole time comparing the food to meals he’d cooked for you in the past.

One might think that growing up the lone female around seven men might be awkward at times, especially with you going through adolescence and getting your period and all that, but they made it normal. Hybrids were far more open about normal bodily functions than human societies had been, and it would have been stranger for them to get squeamish about their pet’s bodily functions. There was no hiding from them when you got your period or anything like that, but they were so nonchalant about it that you were too, even warning you beforehand when you were going to start because they could smell the changes in your scent.

It was all fine – at least, until the boys went to the military.

All of them enlisted together when you were sixteen, and you went to live with Taehyung’s parents while they were serving. Living in Geochang was a change of pace from Seoul, but it was nice nevertheless. You helped out at his parents’ farm, got to play a lot more with Yeontan and the other animals running around, and had a lot more freedom since his parents were too busy to micromanage you.

During this time, you really grew into your own – enrolling in an online GED course, using the Internet and the enormous resources at your disposal to figure your personal style out, even finding human friends and a boyfriend. Who would have thought that Geochang had such a thriving human community?

Needless to say, by the time the two years had passed and you went back to live with Taehyung, you were a vastly different person, in both temperament and appearance, than you’d been the day he dropped you off.

Still, you’d missed being in Seoul with him, and you were excited to go with his parents to pick him up from the military base. You’d never been to visit him when his family members went, because they’d needed someone to stay home and tend to the crops and take care of the animals, and ever eager to please, you’d volunteered to do it even though you really wanted to see Taehyung too.

This time, though, you had to go, because everyone was going to Seoul to spend the night, and then you would stay with Taehyung. Although you hadn’t seen each other in two years, you’d kept in contact via text messages and video calls whenever he was free, and you knew that he’d decided to move into an apartment in Seoul without the other boys. It was about time – Seokjin was pushing thirty and planning to propose to his longtime girlfriend, and it was a little weird for seven men in their thirties to be living together anyway.

So you packed your things and prepared to move out of Geochang and back to Seoul. It wasn’t difficult – with technology it was easy for you to keep in contact with your friends in Geochang, and you’d broken up with your boyfriend a couple months ago on amicable terms. The most difficult thing for you had been saying goodbye to Tannie, who was getting on in years now and had relied on you more and more each day.

But move out you did, and you bounced in your seat all the way to the military base where Taehyung had been living for the past two years. When you first saw him walk out of the compound, still in his uniform, your excitement got the better of you and you flew towards him, perhaps uncharacteristically for you given how taken aback his parents were, but you didn’t care.

“Taehyung-oppa!” you screamed as you ran. To his credit, he didn’t waste any time processing the missile currently hurtling towards him, and just opened his arms for you to leap into.

“Hello, Y/N,” he laughed as he hugged you close. He’d missed you too, his cute little human, and after so long away from him, you didn’t smell anything like him anymore, something he was determined to change as he started rubbing his cheek on the top of your head. Used to it after living with him for so many years, you just stood still and let him do it.

Fansite photographers and more zealous fans who’d come to see him cooed and sighed at the cute picture you two made. You were still tucked under his arm, clinging to his shirt, as he greeted the people who were gathered, thanking them for coming all this way, and thanking his commanding officers and platoon mates for being there for him for the past few years.

Then it was over, and he was in the van with his family for a more private reunion. You were still clinging to him, not that he minded as he stroked your hair softly as he chatted with his family. He’d seen them when they’d come to visit, or during his breaks – it was just you that hadn’t had the chance to see him since he’d gone away.

During the drive back to Seoul, you tucked your face into his neck and took a nap, tired from all the excitement. While you were asleep, Taehyung asked his mother how you’d been. “Did she give you a lot of trouble?” he asked.

She chuckled. “No, she was an absolute angel. So good with the children and the animals, always eager to help out.”

He smiled. “Yeah? That tracks. The lady at the shelter told me she has an amazing pedigree.”

“It was a real joy having her, Taehyung-ah. You’re lucky to have such a sweet human in your life.”

“I am. I hope she had a good time in Geochang, too.”

Taehyung’s mother laughed at that. “Oh, did she ever!”

His curiosity piqued, his ears perked. “Sounds like you have some good stories to share.”

“The girl had the time of her life these past two years,” his mother snickered. “She had a lot more freedom in Geochang than in Seoul because it’s smaller and safer, so we let her go out on her own a lot more, and she’s really sociable. She even found a boyfriend.”

He raised a brow. “She did? Sounds like she had lots of fun in Geochang, then.”

He wanted to find out more about what you’d been up to, but since they were arriving in Seoul and would be at the restaurant for dinner, he couldn’t, instead waking you up since you always took a little while to be functional.

You untangled yourself from him sleepily and almost fell out of the car as you tried to get out, and it was only his father’s superior hybrid reflexes that saved you from eating asphalt as he caught you and put you back on your feet. Murmuring your thanks, you waited for Taehyung to climb out of the van and lead you into the restaurant by the hand.

Tonight, you were dining at a Korean barbeque restaurant, which was always a winner for the hybrid wolf family. Usually they just ate meat, not even bothering with lettuce wraps, but they were still nice enough to order some vegetables and king oyster mushrooms for you. You were in charge of grilling, of course, not that you minded, and hearing the praise from everyone else at the table made you glow a little every time.

Taehyung was the center of attention that evening, of course, as he regaled his family with tales of his time in the military. He was the first member of BTS to be discharged, although since they’d all enlisted at around the same time, the others were due to be discharged in the coming few months, so unfortunately there weren’t funny stories of his bandmates coming to visit him, but Bang PD had, and so had some stylist noonas.

There were also stories about silly punishments and shenanigans, water parades, being made to hold the wall and shout, “Help, help! The wall is falling,” because he’d been caught leaning against it once, that made everyone crack up and you almost drop the tongs right on the grill.

Eventually, though, he started asking about how everyone had been, which turned, perhaps inevitably, into everyone ganging up on you and trying to tell the most embarrassing story they could think of. You sighed and whined as one by one, they all took turns rehashing your various mishaps to Taehyung – you trying to climb a tree and getting stuck like a cat, your various fashion disasters as you tried to ‘find yourself’ – complete with pictures, of course, and worst of all, your theatrics when your GED certificate came in the mail.

Well, you were really proud of that last one, but did they really have to describe your joyful outburst as helpless histrionics?

Still, though, the way Taehyung squeezed your hand as he told you how proud he was of you made everything better.

Soon enough, dinner was over and all of you piled back into the van to go to Taehyung’s new apartment. It had already been set up by the multitude of assistants that BigHit had, with some input from his parents, so it was basically already liveable. With so many people helping, it wasn’t long before all your things were moved into the apartment too, and then the two of you were left alone, for the first time in two years.

Since you had so much spare room in the apartment, you had your own bedroom, and it was beautifully decorated just how you’d pictured it, with a very pretty queen-sized bed in one corner with a white cushioned headboard and pink-and-grey patterned sheets, a reading nook in front of floor-to-ceiling windows with an overstuffed chair and foot rest, a lamp, and a large bookshelf with a ladder occupying the adjacent wall, and a little coffee table with a scented candle already on it next to the chair. Fluffy rugs were strewn across the room, and a wooden dressing table sat on the opposite side of the room. It was beautiful and comfortable, everything you’d dreamed of, but when you got ready for bed, you found yourself missing Taehyung.

Which led to you in your pajamas, all scrubbed down and ready for bed, knocking plaintively on Taehyung’s bedroom door. He seemed to know that you would be there even before opening the door, which he probably had, with his enhanced senses (and the fact that there was no one else in the apartment).

When he opened the door for you, clad in just his pajama pants, all you had to do was pout up at him and he was standing aside to let you in. Generally, he indulged your every whim, because according to his life philosophy, why have pets if you weren’t going to spoil them rotten? Making a beeline for his bed, you made yourself comfortable by burrowing under his sheets and fluffing up one of his pillows.

Shaking his head at you, Taehyung followed you back to the bed, getting into the other side with an indulgent huff. “You know, I paid a lot of money for your bedroom,” he said drolly. Ignoring his remark, you cuddled close to him and shut your eyes stubbornly, and he capitulated with a sigh, stroking your head as you drifted off to sleep.

Somehow, you smelled different than he remembered. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and it wasn’t bad by any means, but it was just… different. And he didn’t quite know what to do about it.

For some reason he’d been reluctant to ask his parents, even though they’d been the ones living with you for the past two years, if they’d sensed anything different about you. He’d rationalized it to himself at the point – since they’d been with you every day it was likely that they wouldn’t notice anything different if your scent had changed gradually, and if it had been sudden and enough to cause worry, they would already have let him know about it.

Still, his mind wouldn’t stop racing with the possibilities as he leaned in closer to take a good whiff. He could still smell the base notes of your scent, which had always been somewhat citrusy, but now it was slightly… earthier, with a musky, deeper aroma threaded through it. Was it vanilla? Perhaps cinnamon?

Whatever it was, it was nice, and he shut his eyes to allow himself to drift off after deciding to do research on humans’ scent changes tomorrow. He didn’t think it was anything to worry about – any illness would definitely have a sharper, less pleasant scent – but he didn’t know why your scent would suddenly change again. It had changed gradually once before, as you went through puberty, but based on what he’d read about humans, it shouldn’t change again for many years yet.

No harm finding out more about what could be causing it, he thought as he slipped after you into slumber. Maybe he would take you to a doctor, too, if it became necessary.

Morning dawned, and Taehyung woke up leisurely for the first time in too long, slowly blinking his eyes against the morning sunlight streaming in from the windows. As he slowly became conscious of his surroundings, he became aware that he was the most comfortable he’d ever been, probably in his life, and he nuzzled closer behind your ear.

Wait a minute. A second later, he drew back. He didn’t remember going to sleep with a lover, and he definitely hadn’t had a girlfriend since his last one broke up with him while he was in the army. So who was he currently wrapped around…?

When it dawned on him, he recoiled in horror, and almost crab scuttled away from you. Thankfully, you were still asleep and hadn’t noticed his morning boner pressed against you, because it was beyond inappropriate for him to feel that way about you, his pet.

Unfortunately, his abrupt movements pulled on the duvet that you were sharing, and jostled you awake. He froze, wide-eyed, as you stirred. “Taehyung-oppa?” you said, voice raspy with sleep.

“Shh, I’m just going to pee,” he lied. “Go back to sleep, sweetie, it’s still early.”

You hummed wordlessly as you burrowed back into the covers, and despite his own inner turmoil, he smiled at you as he straightened the duvet over you before he left the bedroom.

He darted into the bathroom, where he sat on the edge of the tub, his head in his hands. God, what the hell was wrong with him? You weren’t a hybrid, and he didn’t understand how this could have happened. In that moment before he’d woken up fully and realized what was happening, his instinct had been to treat you like a… lover. He shuddered at the thought.

Okay, he thought, getting up. He was going to take a shower, rub one out, and then pretend like everything was fine. This was an aberration, just a weird fluke. You were warm and in his bed, and it had been a really long time since he had any action, since military service tended to inhibit such activities.

He just needed to get laid, and get used to your new scent, and then everything would be fine. No one would need to know about this embarrassing little slip-up.

With renewed determination, he started stripping off his clothes to get into the shower. All soaped up, he started sliding a hand down his body to grasp his erection firmly, which had never really gone away. Biting his lip, he started stroking it slowly, running his thumb over the head on the upstroke. His mind, however, remained unfocused, flitting between various memories and porn he’d watched, never able to focus on anything long enough to immerse himself.

That is, until his enhanced wolf hearing picked up the rustling sounds in the bedroom. He could hear, even over the sound of the shower, so clearly what you were doing that his mind had no problem filling in the blanks. The rustle of the sheets meant you were pushing the covers back; the soft thud on the ground meant you’d sat up and put your feet down. Then you stretched, and he definitely had no problem imagining it – or an overly erotic version of what actually transpired. Your soft moan of satisfaction as you cracked your spine sent a shiver running through him.

After that, it was basically a race to the finish line, as he fisted himself as hard as he could, leaning forward to brace his free hand against the wall in front of him. Usually it took a little longer, and he would play with his balls more, but it wasn’t going to be necessary this time, he could feel it. Remembering how good you’d smelled this morning was enough to push him over the edge, and he muffled his groan in his shoulder as he came all over the wall of his shower, the hand on the wall curling into a fist.

“Fuck,” he panted as he washed the cum off himself and the wall. Needless to say, he didn’t feel any cleaner after that shower.

When he came out of the shower, you were already getting breakfast ready. Another perk of having a team of assistants dedicated to making your life easier – the fridge came fully stocked. You’d washed up and pulled a sweatshirt on over the cami and pajama pants, and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw that it was a BTS merchandise from several years ago.

“Good morning,” you chirped, flipping the bacon. “I didn’t know what you wanted for breakfast, but I remember how much you love bacon, so I figured this would be safe.”

He leaned his elbows on the island and watched you warily from a distance. “Are you sure you should be cooking?”

“I got better,” you shot back defensively. “You shouldn’t have let me take cooking lessons from Namjoon-oppa in the first place.”

“No, I really shouldn’t have,” he agreed absently. You really had improved in your cooking, he thought, watching how easily you moved around the kitchen. It wasn’t long before a giant helping of bacon was sitting in front of him, with a more modest, human-sized portion on your plate, and some toast.

“You really should have let me make you breakfast,” he sighed, even as he started to tuck in. “I miss spoiling you.”

You shot him a cheeky grin. “Not to worry, you spoiled me plenty while you were in the military,” you sassed him.

He huffed out a laugh. “I know, I saw the credit card statements.”

Giggling, you eat another bite of your breakfast and smile at him with your cheeks stuffed, and his heart clenches with fondness. How could someone so plainly adorable drive him so crazy this morning? It must have been a fluke; his instincts misfiring. He just needed to get laid, and then everything would be fine.

Update: everything was not fine.

Things got progressively worse over the next couple of weeks, until Taehyung was honestly filled with dread every night when you came into his room and slid under the sheets on the side of the bed you’d claimed as yours.

It was getting to the point that all you had to do was sidle up to him for some cuddles and he would start getting sidetracked from having your scent invading his personal space. And yet it wasn’t like he could ask you to dial it back – it was in your nature to be physically affectionate and needy; it was literally what you’d been bred for. What could he possibly say, anyway? “Sorry, but can you stop touching me, it turns me on”? You’d be horrified, and rightly so. You trusted him, he could see it every time you smiled up at him like the sun, looked at him with complete adoration in your eyes, came to sit on his lap for cuddles. His reaction was a complete betrayal of that trust.

There was definitely something wrong with him. It was sick for a hybrid to be thinking about his human pet in this way. Maybe he should be the one to see a doctor, but he’d probably be arrested.

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, if it guaranteed your safety from him.

Amidst all the angst and worrying about whether he was a danger to his own pet human, there were some bright moments. All of his brothers were discharged from the military, and after Jungkook, the last to be discharged, was released, they’d all gone for a massive reunion/celebration. You’d wanted to join, but he’d said no, knowing that there would definitely be plenty of alcohol that night, which meant that firstly, he wouldn’t be in any position to look after you and/or resist your charms, and secondly, your underage self was definitely not going to see how depraved your precious oppas were going to get.

The night started off well enough, with a nice dinner at an exclusive new restaurant in Seoul. The wine flowed freely, and by the time they were done, everyone was more than a little tipsy. They then moved to a club – again, exclusive and new – where they were automatically ushered to the mezzanine. A bottle of whisky was brought to their table, but soon enough, several of them had left to hit the dance floor – Jungkook, that brat, was of course looking for someone to spend the night with, and Hoseok and Jimin just wanted to tear up the dance floor.

“How have you been spending your time off?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung had been a little off all night, quieter than usual and when he thought no one was watching, he had a little frown perpetually affixed to his face.

Taehyung forced a nonchalant shrug – or at least, what he hoped passed for nonchalance. “Just hanging around,” he said vaguely, hoping to fend off any more probing into his life. “What about you?”

Namjoon looked amused. “Tae, I was discharged three days ago. I spent it sleeping and fixing up my apartment.”

“Right, right,” he said, staring studiously into his glass of whisky as if the amber-coloured liquid could tell him the secrets of life.

“How’s Y/N?” Yoongi piped up. Of course, he would be the one to bring you up first. For all his bitching and moaning when Taehyung adopted you, he quickly grew the most attached, and the feeling was mutual. He was your very favourite oppa after Taehyung, and sometimes – like when Taehyung has no choice but to discipline you – he was pretty sure Yoongi was your favourite.

“She’s fine,” Taehyung said, aiming for the innocent enthusiasm he used to have when talking about you, but from the way Namjoon’s eyebrow went up, he knew he’d failed.

“Is everything okay?” Namjoon asked slowly.

Taehyung gulped. The jig was up. Curse his inability to hide his feelings. Well, no matter. If pretending like everything was okay at home wasn’t going to work, there was always good old avoidance.

“Yes, everything’s fine!” he exclaimed a little manically, knocking back the rest of his drink in one gulp. “I’m going to hit the dance floor,” he said, making his escape quickly.

The others, a little surprised, didn’t react, letting him leave, although they exchanged suspicious glances. Something was up with Taehyung; he’d made that obvious enough.

Stepping onto the dance floor, he saw Jungkook in one corner getting hot and heavy against a wall with his chosen companion for the night, and he sighed enviously. He wished he could still do that. It wasn’t that they were afraid someone would go to the press – this club really was exclusive, and only celebrities and the ultra-wealthy (read: chaebol relatives) could even enter the club, so discretion would be guaranteed by both parties.

Instead, it seemed that as his attraction for you grew, his ability to find other, more suitable hybrid women attractive… diminished. Which was another pretty significant part of the problem that he didn’t even know how to address. He’d tried hooking up with hybrids over the past couple of weeks, but none of them ever smelled right. There was always something that felt a little bit off that prevented him from taking things further with them, no matter how much he might want to.

He was going crazy, he was sure of it. How could his sexual attraction be focused completely on one human woman? There was no way that this was okay.

He just had to hide it from others. He didn’t know what he was going to do about it yet, and it wasn’t like he didn’t trust his brothers, but this was a little different, and as much as he wouldn’t blame them, he couldn’t imagine the judging or pitying looks they would direct at him if he told them what was going on with his life.

No, better to keep it to himself for the time being.

His resolve seemed, unfortunately, alcohol-soluble. When the night ended, Taehyung returned to his apartment, saw that his bed was empty and immediately turned around to go to your room, where you’d settled in for the night since you weren’t sure what time he would come back, if he came back at all – hey, you weren’t one to judge. Spotting the human-shaped lump under the covers of your bed in the darkness, he stumbled over to the bed and lifted the covers to slide in.

It was then that Taehyung discovered that those cute camis and pajama pants that shouldn’t drive him crazy but did were you dressing more modestly than usual for bed, out of consideration for him. Because tonight, you weren’t wearing pants.

His brain seemed to short-circuit as he stared at your panty-clad ass, but he must have lifted the covers for too long because the cold started to make you stir as you turned over, patting the area around you looking for the blanket. Not finding anything to grab on to, your eyes opened slowly, and you squinted up at Taehyung.

“Oppa?” you croaked. “You’re back.” Clearing your throat, you reached for your phone on the bedside table. “What time is it?”

He groaned as he watched the way your body stretched out as you turned away from him. “You smell so good,” he whined, flopping down on the other side of the bed, and squirming close to you.

You allowed him to press himself against you, knowing that he was a needy drunk. This wasn’t exactly new for you – Taehyung didn’t get drunk as often as his other members did, but he still did occasionally, and you’d been with him for so many years now that you had a routine by now.

“Oppa… are you still dressed?” you whined as your bare skin came into contact with his jeans. You hissed in displeasure as the cold metal on his belt buckle pressed against your thigh.

“…No,” he said unconvincingly after a moment.

You squirmed out of his grasp, and he let out a forlorn whine that reminded you of his animal half. “Come on, you should get changed at least, you won’t sleep well in your clothes. I’ll go get your pajamas, okay?”

“Nooo,” he made grabby hands at you. “Don’t leave.” He pulled you back into his embrace, pressing his face into your throat. “You smell so good,” he slurred, rubbing his face against you.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation, resisting the urge to push him away. “At least take your pants off, okay?” you negotiated. “I have some water here, you should have some before you go to sleep…” Your voice trailed off as you reached for the bottle you always kept on your bedside table, and his head fell to the pillow with a soft thump as you pulled away. His eyesight was far better than yours, and he took the opportunity to stare at you while you weren’t able to notice it.

While he drank, you wriggled yourself back into the bed, blinking sleepily in the dark as you listened to the rhythmic sound of him gulping down the water. When he’d had enough, he started to lay down, and you quickly intervened. “No, you can’t sleep in your clothes!”

He laughed in response. “You’re very eager to take my pants off, love,” he teased.

Your whole body flushed with heat and you drew back, sulking. “Fine, sleep in your clothes, then. Just don’t complain in the morning,” you snapped, turning over to go to sleep.

Instead of doing the same, Taehyung scooched closer and threw an arm around you. “Don’t be like that, baby,” he purred. “I was just teasing. I’ll take off whatever you want me to,” he promised.

Hearing him speak to you in that tone, though, had you all kinds of worked up. It wasn’t unusual for him to call you baby – he’d always used that pet name on you, and Yeontan and all his other pets as well. It was just the way he’d said it… it reminded you of the way your ex back in Geochang used to talk to you when he was horny. And you found, to your shame, that you’d reacted to it with a small shiver.

That couldn’t be right, though. Humans and hybrids weren’t compatible in that way. You’d just been reminded of Jong-in in that moment – even though you’d broken up, it had been amicable, and you’d always enjoyed physical intimacy with him; it was a natural reaction.

While you were busy rationalizing it to yourself, though, the scent of your arousal hit Taehyung and he pressed himself closer with a groan. “Why do you smell so amazing, Y/N-ie?” he asked, pushing his nose insistently into the crook behind your ear. Unfortunately, his belt buckle pressed into the strip of skin on your lower back exposed by the way your camisole rode up.

“Agh,” you cried out in displeasure, squirming away from him. “It’s cold!”

“What? What’s cold, baby?”

“Your belt,” you heaved out, and his hands immediately went to it.

“Okay, it’s going,” Taehyung responded placatingly, undoing it and throwing it onto the ground beside the bed. Now that he’d gotten started, his pants were quick to follow, being scrunched into the corner of the bed under the covers where he’d kicked them, and his button-down shirt. Finally, clad in just his boxers and undershirt, he relaxed into the mattress, and you cuddled close, satisfied now.

“Good night, oppa,” you murmured as you slotted yourself into your usual spot in his side, your eyes drifting shut as you clutched his shirt in your fist.

He mumbled something indistinct in response, but you could feel his hand resting on your back, and you went to sleep peacefully.

(line break)

Taehyung woke up in a bed that wasn’t his own, half-dressed, and was confused for a moment, wracking his brain for memories of last night. Had he finally managed to get some?

Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, he propped himself up on his elbow and peered around, realizing that it was your room. So he hadn’t broken his dry spell, then. Damn.

Pushing the covers away, he meandered out of your bedroom to the kitchen, where you were already working on some hangover breakfast for him. “Good morning,” you chirped, turning away from the stove to point at the glass of water and hybrid painkillers you’d laid out for him. “In case you feel bad,” you explained.

He sat down and downed the water, ignoring the painkillers – he didn’t feel that bad – as he took you in. You’d put some pants on, and a cardigan over the camisole you’d worn to bed, and tied your hair back in a messy ponytail. As a hybrid, he naturally ran warmer than you, so during winters you made sure to pile the layers on to remain warm.

This line of thinking triggered a memory of you squealing in protest at the cold metal of his belt buckle touching your skin last night, and he paled as he remembered how inappropriately he’d acted with you. He watched you carefully, but you seemed the same as always, and he wasn’t sure if he should just pretend it never happened or apologize for it.

When you deemed the yukgaejang ready and took it off the stove to serve together with two bowls of freshly cooked rice, his guilt at how boorishly he’d treated you last night overwhelmed him and he blurted, “About last night – ”

You looked up from the drawer where you were picking the utensils out. “Yeah?”

“Um… about what I said…” he trailed off awkwardly.

“Oh, you mean the scent thing? Don’t worry, I get it,” you laughed it off, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “It’s because of the pack bond, right?”

“The what?” Completely confused, he just stared at you as you poured some soup into your rice.

“The pack bond? I read about it, that some hybrids can form pack bonds with the people around them. Like you did with the other members, or your pets, I guess,” you said, shrugging.

Instead of responding immediately, Taehyung chose to shovel a huge mouthful of stew and rice into his mouth to give him more time to think about how to respond. You’d given him the perfect cop-out for any overly affectionate behavior he might display. He was sure you didn’t know enough about hybrid pack behaviours to actually call him out on his lies.

“Y- yeah, that’s it,” he said, the visible relief on his face making you smile at him cheerily, your triumph at guessing correctly written all over your face.

As you both went back to eating, you felt something that had tensed up inside you last night unclench. It was just the pack bond. You could stop thinking about it, and you wouldn’t misinterpret anything anymore.

Returning to the studio to work on their comeback was a relief for Taehyung. For one thing, it meant that he would be spending most of his time away from you and your maddening scent. For another, he’d worried (perhaps needlessly, given the outpouring of support and congratulations on their social media when they were each discharged) that they wouldn’t be relevant anymore and he would be out of a job.

He’d also really missed his brothers, and was excited to work with them again.

However, what he hadn’t anticipated was that they’d missed you just as much as him, and you felt the same way. Every evening when he came home you were there, waiting for fun stories about the other members, and they pestered him incessantly for updates about you or, better yet, pictures or videos, or best of all, bringing you to the studio.

Since you basically begged for the same thing, he’d pretty much had no choice.

You chattered on excitedly from the front seat of his car as he drove to the studio. It was unbearably early, but that didn’t seem to deter you. Most mornings you were the one who woke him up anyway, since you were by far the most patient out of the members and producers. Even without you being there most days, the members knew that any time Taehyung showed up for practice on time and awake it was because of your efforts.

You fairly skipped from the carpark all the way to the studio where the boys were supposed to be working today, dragging Taehyung along in your wake. You knew the building like the back of your hand by now, having spent much of the time you’d been with Taehyung here. Even the boys from TXT knew you, and often kept snacks and things in their studios for you when you dropped by.

Reaching the corridor where the studio was located, you ran down it and burst into the studio, a ball of almost frenzied energy. “Hi!” you cried exuberantly, causing the current occupants of the room to look up at you. Almost all the members were there, sans Yoongi and, of course, Taehyung, who was following you at a more sedate pace, and they grinned at you.

“Y/N!” Jungkook leapt up from his seat and rushed over to you, and as you hugged him he picked you clean off the floor to swing you around, giggling. The tiger hybrid’s ears flicked excitedly as he took you in. “Don’t you look pretty today?” he cooed, rubbing his cheek over the top of your head. You stood still to let him, used to all the members attempting to scent you since it was basically an affectionate gesture.

“Thank you, Kookie-oppa,” you said politely, smiling up at him.

“You’re such a polite girl,” Seokjin complimented you, pulling a Tupperware of your favourite spicy baby octopus out of his bag. When Taehyung had texted them last night that you would be coming today, he’d immediately gotten to work preparing some of your favourite snacks.

“Ooh, thank you, Seokjin-oppa!” you sang as you stood to take it from him – with both hands, of course, and accompanied by a deep bow.

“Don’t you mean Seokjin-samchoon?” Jungkook ribbed, causing the hyena hybrid to snarl at him.

By the time Taehyung entered the room, you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Jimin, happily sharing your food with them, while Jungkook and Seokjin were playfighting, Hoseok egging both of them on. He sighed as he headed to the last empty couch and dropped down on it heavily, used to the chaos of his members.

“Where’s Suga-hyung?” Taehyung asked, looking around.

You shrugged. “Probably still in bed,” you responded to the amusement of everyone in the room.

Unfortunately for you, the man in question walked through the doors just in time to hear your remark, and he scowled. “For your information,” he bit out acerbically, “I was in my studio. I’m not Jimin,” he said, rolling his eyes, even as he bent down in front of you and opened his mouth for the proffered mouthful of food you were holding in your chopsticks for him.

“Hey!” Jimin protested. “I thought we were past that.”

“Never,” Taehyung promised, and you giggled. To ease the sting of his members teasing him, Jimin aggressively scented you, and you leaned into him to facilitate it.

Taehyung, observing your interaction with the other hybrid, tried not to show his irritation on his face, mostly because he knew it was ridiculous to feel that way. When you’d first come to live with them, the others had been cautious about getting their scents on you, just in case it was something that bothered him, but he’d made sure to assure them that he didn’t mind. After all, all of them were pack. It made sense for them to smell like each other, and it had even comforted him sometimes when you came to him drenched in the scents of his members.

Now that your scent was different, though, he didn’t like it as much when the other members rubbed up against you. It was a shameful, terrible feeling to be possessive over you like that, and he noted somewhat wryly that he could add it to the list. He really hadn’t been a paragon of virtue when it came to you recently.

When the boys started working, you pulled out the book you were currently reading and settled in. By now, you knew how to entertain yourself when at the studio, and tuned them out for the most part. As a result, you didn’t notice the way Taehyung’s attention would drift over to you instead of his members, but Namjoon did.

The older man raised his brow as Taehyung stared at you, sitting on a couch in the corner of the studio, instead of listening to the melody that Yoongi had just been working on. This was uncharacteristic of Taehyung, to say the least, and though as a leader he was somewhat annoyed at Taehyung’s inattention, he was also worried, remembering how strangely the wolf hybrid had acted the other night. He was still watching Taehyung out of his peripheral vision when he saw Taehyung catch himself staring, shake his head and frown.

He followed Taehyung’s gaze to you, wondering what it was that had captured Taehyung’s attention. You seemed unaware of it, turning the page on your book and continuing to read with a soft, relaxed expression, eagerly devouring the page. He couldn’t detect any differences, either – aside from the fact that you’d grown a little and carried yourself differently, you were much the same as you were when they’d left for the army.

Still, there must be some explanation for Taehyung’s sudden change in behavior, and he ran his eyes over your face more closely, watching for any hints.

Unfortunately, Taehyung, looking up from his notes, saw Namjoon staring at you, and before he could stop it, he growled at the wild dog hybrid. A second later, he realized what he’d just done, and shame flooded him. He got up so suddenly that the chair he was sitting in rolled away, bumping against the studio board, and fled the room.

Immediately, you put your book down and got up, ready to follow him to ask what had gotten him so upset, but Namjoon stopped you. “I’ll go talk to him,” he assured you, and looking up at the serious set of his jaw, you nodded, knowing that Taehyung was in good hands.

Namjoon found Taehyung in the restroom, bracing himself against the sinks with his head bowed. Hearing the door open and able to identify his leader by his scent, Taehyung’s hands tightened.

“You doing okay?” Namjoon asked mildly, leaning against the restroom door.

“Go away,” Taehyung grumped without moving.

“Tae, I’m worried about you. You’ve been acting weird since we came back from the military. Tell me what’s going on, please?”

“Nothing’s going on, everything’s fine,” Taehyung denied, his voice becoming increasingly whiny.

“Tae, come on. We’re brothers, you can tell me what’s up.” Namjoon went over to the wolf hybrid and rested his hand on his shoulder.

Resolutely, Taehyung stayed silent.

Left with no other recourse, Namjoon started guessing. “Is it because your heat is coming soon?”

Taehyung’s head shot up, and he stared at Namjoon in the mirror. “My what?”

Namjoon quirked his brow at the younger man. “Your heat?” he prompted. “The one you’ve had once a year for about ten years now?”

Taehyung paled. With all that had been going on with you, he’d totally forgotten about it. Fuck. He was not going to get through this heat alive.

#kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts #bts fic #bts hybrid au #hybrid bts #taehyung smut #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts future au

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bluejaywriter · 4 years ago

Text

The Sun and the Moon - deleted scene

This scene was supposed to take place after Hippolyta and Martha became engaged, but there was already too much angst about Hippolyta’s old lovers and Jonathan Kent, so I axed it. I found it again and added a bit more to the end as a gift to you all. (It ended up longer than expected, as per usual, haha). Happy pagan tree day! 🎄

______________________________________________________________

The lone figure of Martha Kent is not one that often graces the edge of the training field, but it is a welcome sight, nonetheless. Antiope smiles as she notices her silhouette against the sun, looking lost and uncertain, surrounded by these fierce, half-naked warriors.

“Welcome, My Lady,” Antiope says as she strolls over, offering up what she hopes is an encouraging smile instead of the tell-tale smirk her sister complains about so often. “Are you here to begin your training at last?”

Martha lets out a nervous laugh, managing to look both frightened and amused at the same time.

“I—no, that does not sound like a good idea, for you or for me,” she says, blushing and glancing away as the women marching past on the field greet her with wide smiles and murmurs of, Good morning, My Lady. “I wondered if we might talk… in private.”

Antiope raises an eyebrow, but she gives a short nod toward one of the armored warriors who is standing guard, then leads Martha off the field. They walk a short distance down to one of the lowest buildings of New Themyscira, almost a hut set into the limestone. Martha follows timidly as Antiope swings open the door and waves her forward.

The inside of the building is snug, minimalist, almost cabin-like: a sheer contrast to the open and airy rooms of the palace. A simple bed lies tucked against the wall, and an even smaller kitchen is set beside the door.

“On Themyscira, just as much of our training was done in the city as in the wild. Menalippe and I had no use for elaborate rooms or carved hallways. We made our homes in the places where we laid our heads at night, whether it was upon feather pillows, stinging sand, roots and stones.”

Antiope brings out a chair and gestures for Martha to sit. She does, folding her hands into her lap, then she takes a deep breath and tries to force herself to relax, or to at least keep her knees from shaking.

“Now.” The Amazonian general seats herself and leans forward. “What has my foolish sister done this time?”

And Martha gives a small smile, shaking her head.

“It’s nothing foolish, it… I just don’t know who else to talk to, who else to ask.” Martha glances away, wringing her hands. “The Queen and I are… engaged. We’re going to be married.”

Antiope doesn’t react.

“Well done.”

Martha nods once and goes on.

“Yes, but… before, we had this long discussion about—I don’t even know. She seems so concerned about what I want, about making sure that I’m not unhappy, and it’s almost to the point of, she… she gives me what she thinks I want, instead of what I say I want. It’s not quite that, but it’s something similar. It’s like she’s hyper-worried about me being unhappy.”

“Hmm.” Antiope’s startlingly blue eyes—lighter than her sister’s, sharper, somehow—gaze back at her for a moment, then she turns in her seat and seizes the pitcher of water from the wooden shelf behind her.

“Is that a bad thing?” she says casually, pouring herself a glass and offering one to her guest. Martha shakes her head with a murmured, No, thank you.

“I mean, no, not in theory,” Martha says quickly. “But it’s not realistic, no one is happy all the time. And especially not me.”

Antiope drinks, but her eyes never leave Martha’s face. She doesn’t speak, and Martha stumbles on,

“I mean… I am very happy here. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And Hippolyta is wonderful, I love her, and I can’t wait to be married to her. But I can’t seem to get her to understand that I’m here by choice, that I want to be with her, that… that her entire world doesn’t have to revolve around me, and making me happy. I’m not that high maintenance, I was on my own for years, I don’t need to be coddled. And it’s not—it’s not that she’s coddling me. That’s not fair. It’s just… I’m afraid of showing some sides of myself to her, because I know she’ll try to fix it. And sometimes I don’t need someone to fix it, I just need someone to listen, and be there. Sometimes that’s enough. Do you…?”

“I understand, Martha Kent,” Antiope sighs, leaning back in her chair, stretching out her legs in a way that almost seems nonchalant. “I’ve heard it before. Why do you think Diana trained with me instead of with her?”

But Antiope waves her hand impatiently before Martha has a chance to form some meaningless answer.

“The Queen… is very protective. She was before the Amazons’ enslavement, but after… it became unbearable to her, the thought of any of those under her protection being in pain. It took centuries for her nightmares to stop, centuries of Mena staying up with her, praying over her, plying her with sleeping draughts. The Amazons know, and they understand, and they love her for it. None of us blame her for what happened, we all welcomed the men with hope and optimism. But she took the weight of what happened upon herself, and for so long, love and pain—romantic love—were one and the same.

“She has loved no one since Heracles, did you know that? In order to truly understand her, you must understand the depths of her rage at his betrayal. If her had wronged her only, perhaps… but he overtook her country, enslaved her people, stripped her of her rule for a hundred years. And she has forgiven him now, of course, it has been thousands upon thousands of years—do not think for a moment that she is still living in the shadow of a man. But it changed her, frightened her. I urged her constantly over the years to move on, to allow a woman to soften her, forgive her, to let go of this damned guilt. We were free. It was time for her to live as a free woman, to enjoy the life that we fought so hard for. And I do believe she tried. She truly tried. But until you, she found no one who could love her and soothe her like you apparently can. So you are the one who must be patient while she deals with all of these issues that she has not faced since Heracles.”

Martha stares down at her knees; they’re trembling now for a different reason.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“It is very likely that she didn’t want to upset you,” Antiope replies, rolling her eyes. But her face is not unkind as she reaches out and grips Martha’s hand.

“She may be a Queen, Martha Kent, but she is still a warrior. Get in her face and tell her, and do not back down when she tries to withdraw. She will listen to reason if you persist, but not a single moment before.”

Antiope rises and tosses aside her empty glass of water, apparently finished with this conversation, but she pauses and glances back down at Martha’s miserable figure.

“But… do it in private. The Queen hates being accosted in public. It is a lesson Diana never learned.”

____________________________________________________________

Martha finds her target in her office that night, sitting at her magnificent desk, reading through a stack of scrolls: reviewing the business of the day, scanning through the business of tomorrow. She looks up when Martha steps in, and gives a small smile of welcome.

“Little one.”

“May I… I’m sorry to bother you, I’ll wait til you’re done, I just wondered if I could speak with you.”

“You can always speak with me,” Queen Hippolyta says, an eyebrow raised, concern seeping into her expression, but Martha reaches over and lays a hand over hers.

“Hippolyta—darling. Finish your work. I’ll just be right here.”

And the Queen studies her for a moment, then she nods slightly and goes back to her scrolls. The engagement ring looks so beautiful on her hand, and for a moment, there’s a lump in Martha’s throat as she seats herself on one of the low benches along the limestone walls, and it’s because she put that ring there, she picked it out, and knelt before her, and put it onto that finger, and they’re doing this, they’re in it for the long run, and sometimes they’ll be running with the wind at their backs, holding hands and laughing as they fly together toward the sunset, but other times…

Hippolyta’s hand is a blur, and the next thing Martha knows, the sound of rustling parchment is startling her, and Hippolyta is facing her, opening her arms.

“Come here.”

And Martha goes to her and sits in her lap, wraps her arms around that long neck, and kisses those red lips.

“Now, my patient one… tell me what it is that has put these lines of worry over your forehead.”

And Martha wants to snuggle closer, to say, Oh, it’s nothing, and enjoy her lover’s touch for just a little while longer, but she knows she must speak, and so she sighs and raises her head to look the Goddess of Death in the eye.

“I… went to see Antiope today.”

“Oh? What did my reckless sister do this time?”

“You know, she said something quite similar about you,” Martha says with a faint smile.

“I’m sure she did,” Hippolyta says, but her face is open, expectant, and Martha stumbles on.

“I… I want to tell you something. And I want you to listen, don’t—just let me finish. Okay?”

Hippolyta looks mildly surprised, but she nods and waits as Martha bites her lip, then begins.

“I’ve been unhappy a lot. For a lot of my life, just… so many deaths, and not being able to live and express this part of myself freely, and... it was a lot. And it got even harder after Clark died, it just felt relentless, one bad thing after another, the farm, and the house. When… when I went to see Lois in Metropolis, I was at the end of my rope. I was ready to give up, I was ready for it to be over. My family was gone, the farm, my husband’s legacy, everything, it was like I was at my wit’s end.

“And maybe if my life had been easier from the beginning, I would be a happier person. And I’m not saying everything was horrible but… it was a struggle, and it took its toll. I’m not a naturally happy person, Hippolyta. Most people aren’t. And sometimes… it feels like you don’t give me permission to be unhappy. Like, it’s natural to not be happy all the time, it’s natural to have bad days. And I feel like you’re afraid of that. And I want you to know there’s nothing to be afraid of, I’m right here. I’m staying right here, in sickness and in health, on good days and bad days. I want to be with you. You could give me a—a magic scepter right now that would let me fly back home, and I wouldn’t go. I’m with you. I want this. And I need you to believe that, or at least try. I just… I can’t have that conversation anymore, that conversation of am I happy, and is this really—I’m happy, and if I’m not, and there’s something you can do to change that, I promise I’ll let you’ll know.”

Hippolyta gazes back at her, and for a moment, Martha thinks that her eyes are beginning to get watery, but the magnificent Queen only pulls her a little closer and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, as if to kiss away her wrinkles of worry.

“Very well.”

Martha waits, but apparently Hippolyta isn’t planning on adding any more.

“‘‘Very well’, that’s it?” she says, her voice a bit too cranky, but Hippolyta just leans back a little so she can tuck a strand of hair behind Martha’s ear.

“All you have said is true, little one. It is your truth, and I have not wished to see it. And perhaps I have been too careful with you—Antiope told me countless times when Diana was a child that I was too protective of her, that my love was suffocating her, stunting her growth, limiting her potential. And with you… you are a human, Martha Kent, and you are fragile as all humans are, and this has not been easy for you: I have seen your discomfort amongst my warriors, your doubts at your place at my side, your longing for your homeland.

“But you are also strong. You are stubborn, and you are determined, and willing to work hard at this, at us, and this… this is something we will do together. We will lead each other, and grow together, and we will speak honestly with one another when things are amiss.”

Martha tucks her head underneath Hippolyta chin, so she can feel the Goddess’ cold collarbones pressing against her skin, and Hippolyta tilts her head just slightly so then her cheek is resting against the top of Martha’s head, and she pulls her a little closer, and it fits, it just fits, they fit, and it’s good, and it’s comfortable, and Martha doesn’t want to be anywhere in the world but right here, just… right here—except, maybe they could move to a soft bed, and they could hold each other even closer, that would also be nice—

“I do have a suggestion, though, little one,” Hippolyta’s voice rumbles against Martha’s fragile human body, and she shivers.

“Uh oh,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t mean it, not really, not half as much as she minds when Hippolyta gently pushes her back a few inches so that she can look her in the eye.

“There is a priestess, an Oracle from the days of the Gods, a healer of the mind. I think it would be beneficial if we spoke with her, both together, but also separately. She is wise in the ways of humans and other sentient beings, and is deeply compassionate; she has helped me and many of my sisters in our healing process, as well as many others in their transition from life to death.”

Martha doesn’t like the idea of telling a stranger all about her private life, but it’s a good one and she knows it.

“Fine, I’ll go see the shrink,” she sighs, but she kisses Hippolyta’s cheek and seizes her hand as she hops off her lap, tugging her away from the desk. “Honestly, I probably should’ve gone a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?” Hippolyta asks curiously, without a single shred of judgement in her voice, but Martha just tugs harder at her hand.

“We can discuss that with the marriage counselor, Queen Hippolyta,” she says, practically dragging her down the hall toward their bedroom now. “There are other things we can do now to strengthen our future marriage...”

#Marlyta #The Sun and the Moon #fanfic #deleted scene #This is 2.5k #Anyway I think this probably should've still been in the story but it just would've dragged #This was before you guys made me write three (3) chapters of goddess smut and I decided I didn't care about pacing haha #anyway merry christmas and stuff #also there's a lot of monologuing in here #let me know if you want me to post it somewhere on ao3 #I don't really have a ready place to drop oneshots like this but I guess I can make one

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himbeaux-on-ice · 4 years ago

Note

Sorry! Lehner had around a 10 minute rant today about how he feels like the NHL lied to the players about loosening up the restrictions placed on teams and forced teams to get the Covid Vaccine. ESPN and the New York Post released an article about it today.

(this is a follow-up on this ask)

Ah okay, I found a TSN article about it, which covers the fact that he also apologized for some of his remarks (mainly comparing the restrictions to being “like prison” which is a bit cringe when you’re a millionaire in a free hotel, yeah), and also significantly clarified some of the intent behind what he was trying to say at the presser:

I’m gonna put my full thoughts this under a cut because it’s ended up running pretty long and rambly, but tl;dr: after considering his more precisely clarified points here and with the perspective I know he’s coming from, I can honestly see and empathize with what Lehner seems to be expressing here about how the NHL has chosen to handle player vaccinations and informing them about what that means for the restrictions on their lives, and I actually don’t disagree with his criticisms overall. Some of the phrasing could have been better, but he’s acknowledged that too.

All in all, it sounds like the NHL may have done a poor job of honestly managing expectations around what vaccine rollout would mean for the extra restrictions placed on the players and their families with each team, and that they’re also up to some version of their usual NHL schtick of prioritizing some platonic ideal of Competitive Parity (remember “the Vancouver Canucks will play a 56 game season”, anyone?) above all else, even when that is no longer realistic and/or comes at the expense of the short-term and long-term mental and physical wellbeing of the players. Classic NHL.

Right, so, long thoughts are down here. Also gonna copy the majority of his comments directly because I think it’s worthwhile for people to read exactly what he said:

"As I’m frustrated like a lot of people in the world right now everything didn’t come out of today’s press in the right way," Lehner wrote. "Main point is that we need to start take the mental health important as well In this situation. It has a huge impact on everyone in society right now. To put competitive edge before well being of people's lives is wrong. As I said, people are struggling with many different things mentally and we need to consider that, as well. Then, being lied to makes it worse."

I love hockey and the league has done a lot of good things," Lehner continued. "But this missed the mark. My bad to say it’s like prison and I apologize, but with mental health issues that are developing in the world, it develops problems mentally. We will see exactly how this affects everything with time. I don’t mean to offend anyone. I hope we can all work together to help people that suffer through mental help from this going forward. I’ve heard how a lot of people are doing through this as people talk to me about it."

During his briefing, Lehner said that the league has misled the players about how vaccination will lead to the loosening of restrictions.

"They told me yesterday that they're surveying all of the teams to see who has taken the vaccine and who has not taken the vaccine and they're not going to change the rules for us as players until all of the teams have a fair [amount] of [vaccinated players] at the same time, so there's not a competitive edge," Lehner said. "And that made me go crazy, to be honest."

Lehner said the league is failing to look at its players as people first and lied to them about taking the vaccine.

"These are human lives and people are struggling with this stuff a lot in society and we are humans just as everyone else," Lehner said. "So there's a twofold problem for me here - the first one is we got promised something to take something that not necessarily everyone wanted. So that was lie - a blatant lie. Second, to put competitive edge over human lives in terms of going back - and I'm not saying we're going out to a party or whatever, but we had a meeting when the season started, at the beginning of camp, that pretty much told us we can't go outside of our house, can't do anything, can't go to the grocery store, can do nothing on the road. You can take a meal out of the meal room and go sit up in your room, don't be with your teammates, don't do this, don't do that. Nobody thinks about the mental impact."

The Gothenburg, Sweden native says his peers are struggling through this pandemic season.

"I know people will say, 'Oh, you're millionaires' and this and that or 'What about these guys?' but we care about that, too, man," Lehner said. "No matter what people think, this is a society problem. But when government, corporations, NHL, whoever are taking decisions in terms of irrelevant things like competitive edge over the human being? It's not okay."

It seems pretty clear to me from this article that his main issue isn’t really with getting the vaccine or being required to do so (my understanding is that it is still opt-in for all players, not mandatory. It’s that he doesn’t view the League as having provided players with a realistic expectation ahead of time for how being vaccinated would or would not change their daily reality. That they were led to believe that getting vaccinated would lead to things that didn’t end up happening, and therefore weren’t empowered to make an informed choice about when to get vaccinated.

The way he describes it, the League was not clear enough ahead of time about the fact that individual players being vaccinated would not make them individually exempt from league-wide restrictions, and this created a feeling of false hope about what getting vaccinated would mean in terms of not just having to stay in your house or hotel room literally all the time. If you were looking forward to getting vaccinated because you were led to believe it would mean finally not having to live in that isolated, mentally draining environment all the time, and then only found out at the last minute or after the fact that no, you actually still have to keep following all these rules that are making your life so isolated and difficult, that’s gotta be pretty emotionally jarring. If you were a player who was a little unsure about getting vaccinated quite yet (for whatever reason, including possibly being in a risk group for side-effects or just not wanting to get waylaid for a week with the smile symptoms it induces during a crucial stretch of games), but decided it was worth it for the tradeoff of getting back to a life that was less of a strain on your mental health, and then got told AFTER you made that decision and got the shot that no, that tradeoff isn’t happening the way you were made to expect it to, I think it would understandably piss you off.

It also sounds like part of what he has taken issue with is that, from the sounds of it rather than ease internal restrictions on a team-by-team basis as determined by each team’s vaccination rates (which would mean that if for example the Wild had 95% of their team vaccinated, the Wild only the Wild would get to start living a life with slightly less restrictions), the League is instead opting to say “no, we’re only going to ease the rules for EVERYONE at the same time once all teams have reached similar numbers of vaccinated players and staff to ea other, because we would see having different rules for different teams as giving some of them an unfair competitive edge”.

Lehner takes umbrage with this approach, because he thinks that focusing solely on “competitive edge” by making more-vaccinated teams keep having to live incredibly isolated lives (even isolated from vaccinated teammates) is a case of the League prioritizing parity over the toll that barely being able to interact with other people or leave their houses is taking on players’ mental health. And I can really really understand his point here. We have all seen what quarantine has done to our individual mental health, and even if they are millionaires, those impacts also exist for the players.

I actually just recently re-read the Athletic piece about the intense mental health and addiction struggles Lehner has gone through and done the incredibly difficult work of getting help for in the last five years. This man has fought incredibly hard and done a massive amount of therapy and other work to sort out his head, deal with his demons, and get himself to a place where he can cope and wants to be alive. That kind of recovery journey is a battle which will continue for the rest of your life and requires constant maintenance practices (again, speaking from experience). He also spent most of this season not even getting to be around the team at all, stuck at home recovering from a concussion (which usually involves doing frustratingly little and waiting around impatiently in dimly lit rooms for your brain to heal). And now, upon returning to the team, road games mean more time spent sitting in a room trying not to be bored out of your skull, while possibly also having to have some limits on things like screen time as a post-concussion precaution.

Imagine being somebody like him, who has spent a lot of time working very hard to build up a lifestyle and a system of coping mechanisms in recent years which have allowed him to live a healthier and happier life, to then be thrown back into an isolated and highly restricted new lifestyle where probably at least half of all those habits and norms and support systems are taken out of reach, that has to be incredibly difficult (I’ve experienced something similar myself this year). Especially when you haven’t been able to even go and be with the team in the dressing room, or probably even do anything with your family that classes above “mildly strenuous”, because you’re out for six weeks recovering from a concussion, which is its own mental and physical health battle. And then, you are apparently given the impression from the League that “hey, if you’re willing to get vaccinated, that will lead to you being able to return to some semblance of a life that is less taxing on your psyche”, and you agreed to do so even if you were perhaps cautious about getting the vaccine before, because you’d rather accept whatever risk comes with the shot than gamble on keeping your sanity together for however much longer this isolation drags on, only to then find out that “actually no, even if your team and staff is entirely vaccinated you still have to spend most of your time sitting alone in rooms trying not to sink into a spiral of dangerous depression until other teams in other states with different vaccination programs are also immunized to similar levels, and our only real reasoning for holding that mental relief out of reach is mostly based on ‘competitive parity’”.

Yeah, I absolutely understand why he would feel very frustrated and even betrayed by that course of action! For Lehner, it’s not about competitive edges or the game on the ice, it’s about having made the decision to get vaccinated at this time with the understanding that it would allow access to an at least slightly less mentally taxing lifestyle, only to find out later that the League seemingly never intended to follow through on providing that despite you holding up your end of the deal. And it sounds like he is speaking for a number of other players beyond just himself who are also struggling with their mental health in these conditions. Even if he himself is managing to cope because of what he’s learned in his recovery, he would certainly be well-positioned to recognize signs in the people around him that they are struggling in ways that may be similar to what he went though before, and know how dire that can spiral into being.

Look, I don’t think Robin Lehner ever expected to be allowed to go out and lick people’s eyeballs or wander the supermarket maskless once vaccinated, but you heard the description of how intensely restrictive the NHL’s rules for players off-ice lives during COVID are. They are far more intense than the rules being enforced for non-NHL individuals in many of the same cities and states, because the NHL is trying to bring risk as close to zero as possible. And if you were a player told that being vaccinated was going to reduce contagion risks enough to mean that right away the NHL would finally let you and your teammates from “can’t go anywhere or see anyone, eat your dinner in your hotel room and try not to be depressed about it” to “you can go to the store with a mask on. you can eat meals with your also-vaccinated teammates. you can visit your parents or siblings while social-distancing/masking. you can spend free time around other people and/or in more public spaces without being chaperoned constantly by team staff. you can sit next to your also-vaccinated teammates on the plane/bus. you can hang out with them in their room”, and THEN later were told “sorry, we’re not actually going to let you do that yet. not for COVID reasons but rather because we worry not being totally miserable shut-ins will give you a competitive edge over that team in another state who aren’t getting vaccinated as quickly”. That has to feel like a slap in the face in terms of how much the league actually cares about your well-being or about being honest in its role in your personal medical decisions. Perhaps when he says “forced” he is expressing a feeling of being stuck between choosing “either get vaccinated or let your mental health keep degrading in isolation”, only to find out that making the deal doesn’t get you the relief you were promised.

Idk I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot here trying to circle in on my precise point bc my brain is a little scrambled today, but like. If the players made their decisions to consent to vaccination (at this time, with whatever version of the shot was offered, under whatever circumstances they may have going on personally or medically) based on one understanding of the situation, and then NHL really said “lol NOPE actually that was a false premise” and changed things after the fact, that’s kinda an informed consent issue and I think he’s right to call it fucked up! And everything he says about how mentally taxing such a super-isolated lifestyle is honestly only repeats worries I myself had right from the moment the “stay in your hotel room alone” rule was announced — that the League may be underestimating the toll (especially with some of the long road trips this season) that forcing players to live in total isolation like that was going to have on individual wellbeing and team morale.

Robin’s comments this morning could have been put better, but as somebody who has ADHD and who knows about bipolar disorder, I know emotions for folks with brains like ours can run fast and intense and sometimes lead to not always planning out every word as precisely and you might later have liked to once that moment has passed. The fact that he apologized for the less tactful part of the comment and sought to clarify his words tells me he’s thought a lot about this and wasn’t happy with how he expressed his thoughts initially. Also, while his English is very good, you can sometimes forget it isn’t his first language, Swedish is — some thoughts don’t translate exactly as they sounded in your head. That said, also Robin Lehner one of the more outspoken NHL players about mental health issues in recent years, and he also doesn’t seem like the type of guy to mince his words or tiptoe around a point — I’m not surprised he’s the person expressing these concerns about mental health, and I’m not surprised he was a bit blunt about it either lol.

All in all, it sounds like the NHL did a poor job of managing expectations around what vaccine rollout would mean for the players and their families, and that they’re also up to their usual NHL schtick of prioritizing some platonic ideal of Competitive Parity (remember “the Vancouver Canucks will play a 56 game season”, anyone?) above all else, even when that is no longer realistic and/or comes at the expense of the short-term and long-term mental and physical wellbeing of the players. Classic NHL.

(also: the New York Post is a right-leaning sensationalist rag 90% of the time. take all spin it puts on things with a grain of salt)

#long post #god I hope this makes sense my brain feels like a potato chip #also yeah I don’t judge people too hard for having slight cautions about getting vaccinated right away or with certain ones #when we don’t know their medical details medications risk factors etc #people deserve to be able to make decisions of informed consent when it comes to things like that and if the NHL has not been affording that #well. that is messed up #asks #anon

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johannstutt413 · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Amiya (She’s the mascot, of COURSE she gets a birthday fic)

(continuing from this)

Nearly five months after the Doctor had fallen incredibly sick and his angel in Cautus form had nursed him back to health, it was time for a celebration. With Amiya as his assistant, his workload was now far more manageable, giving him plenty of time to make a plan...which he’d mostly spent instead on daydreaming about her like the lovestruck fool he was. Still, through determination and sheer will, he managed to overcome his lack of focus and set some things in motion.

The night before, as they were heading home from work, the Cautus hugging his arm and softly humming to herself (equally enraptured by their romance), he asked the question on which everything hinged: “Would you be willing to take tomorrow off with me?”

“Mmm...I don’t know. There’s a lot of work to be done. Is it a special occasion?” She said this without any trace of humor or irony.

“I would say it is,” the Doctor chuckled. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

Amiya popped upright, ears and all. “It is? The 23rd, already?”

“Yes, it is. Time flies when you’re in love, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does.” She sighed. “Taking an entire day off to celebrate seems a little much, though, doesn’t it?”

He shook his head. “Not in the slightest. If I could, I’d make your birthday a company holiday.”

“Doctor...Alright, we’ll let Dr. Kal’tsit know once we get home.” The Cautus smiled to herself, somewhat incredulous. A whole day to celebrate a single moment? Well, if it really made him happy, maybe it was worth it.

“I already told her I’d be taking the day off,” the Doctor replied, “so that won’t be an issue.”

She gave him a fully incredulous look now. “What would you have done if I said no?”

“...I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Oh, darling.” Amiya sighed, shaking her head. “Whatever else, it’s very sweet of you. I can’t remember the last time I celebrated my birthday.”

He stopped in the middle of the hallway to hug her properly. “That will never be a concern again, I promise.”

“I believe you~”

The rest of the night went as usual; come morning, however, the Cautus was woken up not just by the Doctor gently shaking her, but the smell of breakfast...Since when had he learned to cook. “Good morning, dear~ Breakfast is ready.”

“Breakfast?” She yawned, stretching her arms behind her head before wrapping them around his neck. “It smells good.”

“Hopefully the taste matches. May I?” He was lightly pulling back with his arms around her.

Amiya nodded, and the Doctor picked her up and carried her out into the dining room, where she was met with a cornucopia of dishes. “I...This is a lot of food, darling.”

“I wanted to make sure there was something you’d like.” He blushed. “Too much?”

“We’ll see; I am quite hungry this morning.” As it turned out, it wasn’t as much as it seemed; by the time they’d had their fill, the only leftovers were half a pie-sized quiche and some extra chocolate-chip pancakes.

The Doctor sighed, setting his head on her shoulder. “Did you like it, dear?”

“I’m in awe, darling.” The Cautus kissed his cheek. “Honestly, when did you learn to cook like this?”

“After we started dating, I realized I needed to take better care of myself for the both of us, so I decided to learn a few things - cooking, cleaning, stuff like that.”

She smiled teasingly at him. “And you let me cook dinner all this time to keep it a surprise?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he replied, blushing again. “I made a dinner reservation for us, but beyond that, I kept the day clear in case there was anything you wanted to do together.”

“Oh? Well, now that you mention it, there is something...Anything, you said?”

The Doctor nodded. “And I mean anything.”

“In that case, I’ll need my violin.” The Cautus grinned at the confused look on his face. “I’ll explain, don’t worry~”

“I’m not worried, darling.” His face didn’t quite agree.

A few minutes later, after a bit of violin maintenance and messing with her tablet, Amiya nodded from her post in the living room. “Did you know that before you lost your memory, dear, you used to sing while I practiced my violin?”

“I did?” This didn’t sound like him at all. “...Was I any good at it?”

“I enjoyed your voice,” she replied, entirely dodging the question.

The Doctor sighed. “I see. Did you have a favorite song for me to sing along with?”

“I do, and I sent you the lyrics in a text just now.” His phone dinged as she said ‘now.’ “There it is.”

“Hmm...This does ring a bell,” he admitted, reading the words. The melody wasn’t coming to him, though.

Amiya held back a chuckle; he was so cute when he was focused on something. Or when he was distracted. Or just breathing, really. “I’ll play the song once through the way I did before, and then we’ll play the version I wrote to accompany you.”

“You rewrote the music to play with me?” The Doctor felt like he might explode from the sentiment. “Oh, darling~”

“Don’t go too weak at the knees, dear,” she laughed, a painfully rare sound in the halls of Rhodes Island.

After giving them both time to recollect themselves, the Cautus began to play...and as he heard her play, a virtuoso rendition of a simple warm-up piece, he could hear his part as clear as day, to the point he started mouthing along with the music. When she finished, he looked at her with a tear in his eye. “I remember.”

“I knew you would, Doctor.” She smiled back at him warmly, herself transported back in time. “Ready for your part?”

“Ready.” The flash in his eye said as much. Her bow moved much more deliberately, more confidently, as Amiya began to play her rendition of the song.

Perfectly on cue, the Doctor joined in...and she sang with him. It wasn’t a long song - after all, it was just a two-stanza poem set to music - but he found that by the end of it, he had to sit down as a flood of emotions surged through him without the memories tied to them. His angel set her violin down and sat atop his legs, holding him close and gently rocking him back and forth. “That was just as I’d imagined it would be...I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t think it would affect you like this.”

“It’s alright,” he managed through the downpour. “It was just...That was the first time I remembered anything from before. Still, I shouldn’t cry so much; today’s a celebration, after all.”

“Celebrating doesn’t mean pretending to be happy for a whole day, darling.”

The Doctor shook his head. “That’s not what I mean, dear. I am happy, happier than I’ve ever been in my life in fact.”

“I am, too,” she affirmed, “but that song does take me back...That’s all I can think of.”

“That’s alright. There’s bound to be something on the telly we can watch while we wait for dinner. If that’s alright, that is.”

Amiya nodded, still gently swaying with him. “That sounds wonderful...Thank you, Doctor.”

“Of course,” he replied, turning the TV on with a flick of his free hand. “Happy birthday, darling.”

“The happiest I’ve ever had~”

#arknights #amiya (arknights)#as i've said before #i don't always get something ready to go for an Operator's birthday #but i glanced at the calendar the other day and noticed this #so i whipped something up #Exu's is tomorrow #so she'll be getting one as well #enjoy the next two days of double-doses :)#(...maybe three since i think someone was born the 25th as well...)#arknights fic

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captcas · 4 years ago

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Worth Fighting For (9/?)

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian “Hook” Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma “The Savior” Swan’s career was cut short. When Hook’s manager moves up and the office brings in UFC’s youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3 // tumblr: ch 1/ ch 2 / ch 3 / ch 4 / ch 5 / ch 6 / ch 7 / ch 8

[CHAPTER 9/?]

“Whoever invented folding chairs deserves a swift kick in the arse.” He points his fork at Emma as they talk over dinner. Her eyes sparkle with joy and he knows instantly he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Jeeze, Jones, you are ancient.” She laughs, eyes rolling sarcastically, as she takes another sip of her rum and coke.

A woman after his own heart.

They’ve fallen into this easy conversation ever since he returned with the popcorn a few hours before– had he known that was the direct way to being her friend he would’ve bought an entire popcorn factory months ago. Emma watched the weigh-ins casually, knowing the ropes as much as anyone would, and it allowed them to bond a little over the sport which brought them together.

Thank God for UFC.

When she suggested they grab dinner at a restaurant beside the hotel, he hesitated at first, not wanting to push his luck, but when she took his hand and told him today should be a “cheat day”, he couldn’t have resisted if he tried. She definitely teased him for ordering a salad but he assured her that his youthful glow does require some maintenance. That’s all it took for the conversation to continue flowing as easy as ever. He glances towards his watch and realizes they’ve been talking non-stop for over an hour, Emma’s plate completely empty as the waiter takes it away.

He’s about to ask for the check when Emma speaks up, “Could we see the dessert menu, please?”

She smirks at him when he raises an eyebrow in question, before studying the small menu like she’d be tested on its contents. Emma ultimately orders strawberry shortcake before turning to him once again, “I always order dessert. I couldn’t have it for so many years when I was fighting and then with the morning sickness and then trying to get back to pre-baby weight… I just decided I shouldn’t have to live without dessert anymore… sure, I have to work a little harder at the gym each week, but it’s so worth it.” She’s interrupted by the waiter returning. He sets the red sugary cake in front of her and she turns to smile and give him her thanks before digging in.

Killian watches her in awe, entirely convinced there isn’t a single thing he doesn’t like about her.

She realizes he’s staring and chuckles before taking another bite, the blush rising on her high cheekbones. “Would you like some, Jones? You can’t really call it a cheat day if you order salad.”

He’s never had strawberry shortcake, but he’s positive he could never deny her anything, “Aye, Swan, just a bite.” He looks around for his fork, blushing himself when he realizes the waiter has already cleared it. She shrugs, unphased, and portions off a small bite for him. He grabs the fork from her, their fingers barely touching, but the electric currant shooting through his veins all the same. He has to withhold dirtier thoughts as he puts her fork in his mouth, now entirely aware of the tension building between the two of them. He swallows the slew of innuendos with the cake. Emma is looking at him expectantly, as though somehow his review of this entirely too sweet concoction will determine whether or not she likes it as well.

He smiles at the thought more than the dessert, but she seems satisfied. She takes her fork back and smiles. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

The question catches him off-guard. While seemingly trivial, it’s more personal than they’ve ventured thus far. (Besides the random truths Emma seems to drop out of nowhere.) He’s taken aback by her desire to know him , and has to hold down the one million questions he wishes to ask her. “I’ve never been much for dessert…” She gives him an entirely unamused look and he can’t help but laugh, “No, Swan, it’s true!”

“You have to have at least one guilty pleasure treat, Killian.”

He does. His mother’s chocolate cake. Did she just call him Killian? He takes a deep breath, knowing full well this could open up to deeper questions than favorite dessert. “Aye, love. I suppose I always loved my mother’s chocolate cake.”

She studies him, probably to make sure he’s answering truthfully, and then frowns, “Loved?”

He knew this was coming, and he wants her to know, but it doesn’t make it any easier. “Aye. My mother passed when I was 11.” He waits for pity or an “I'm so sorry” but it never comes. Instead she takes a deep breath of her own.

“That’s probably the real reason I love dessert so much. You never really get any when you’re a foster kid.”

She meets his eye and the air is taken from his lungs. She understands. It feels like a ton of bricks has been lifted off his chest, and she understands. All he can do is smile and nod, but he hopes she knows he understands too.

Emma smiles softly before declaring she’s “stuffed”. They call for the waiter and Emma insists she put it on the company card– “They’re only paying for one hotel room anyway.”

He chuckles, but nerves wash over him as her casual reminder of the situation which awaits them back at the hotel hits him like a high kick. Bloody hell.

. . .

Killian Jones is really easy to talk to. So easy that it’s not until they’re walking back to the hotel that she even realizes she told him about her upbringing.

What the hell, Emma?

Her comfort level with Killian is something she’s hard pressed to ignore, but as they unlock the door to their room, she finds herself forced to confront it far sooner than she wanted to. She can’t help but track his every move as he leads her into the hotel room. He walks straight for the small sofa and she watches the muscles ripple through his arms as he lifts his duffle bag onto it. Sometimes she forgets he’s Killian “Hook” Jones the athlete and not just– well, just Killian. It’s times like this that she’s reminded how fit he is. When he realizes she hasn’t moved, Killian shoots a questioning look over his shoulder and Emma shakes herself out of it– whatever it is.

He scratches behind his ear and she can’t help but laugh, breaking the increasingly tense silence between them. “Uh… I’ll grab the couch, lov–Swan. I’m sure there’s extra blankets in here somewhere. Do you want to clean up first?”

Emma’s chest hurts when he shys away from calling her love, but can’t find it in herself to blame him– the word in this context threatening to hang between them like something more than a pet name. She nods in response and heads into the small bathroom. She immediately runs the cold water, splashing it over her face in an attempt to realign her senses. Emma stares at her reflection in the mirror and can’t help but notice she seems brighter, maybe even happier.

She ignores the twing in her gut telling her why.

Finishing up her nightly routine, she heads back into the main area to find Killian laying on the couch and scrolling through his phone. Emma holds back a giggle at the sight of the almost 6 foot man stretched across an equally long couch. He looks up when she flips on the lamp next to the bed and gives her a tight smile before heading into the bathroom himself. When she hears the shower turn on, she takes a deep breath, thankful for at least a small moment of alone time. She looks at the couch where he’s set up and can’t help but feel a bit guilty– the queen sized bed suddenly feeling way too big for one person.

Shit.

Emma makes up her mind as Killian unlocks the bathroom door and turns out the light. She works up the nerve to actually say something, but is only convinced when she sees him try and situate himself on the couch again. With a deep breath, she tries to hint at her decision casually, “That cannot possibly be comfortable.”

Killian jumps a bit at the sound of her voice and she snorts. The blush rises in his cheeks before he answers, “It’s quite alright, lass. I’ve slept on worse; at least I have a pillow.” He winks and she can’t stop her eyes from rolling dramatically. She knows he’d probably sleep on the floor if that was the only option, but she’s not evil .

“We’re both adults. I’m sure we can handle sharing a bed.” She doesn’t look him in the eye, finding a chip in the paint just above his right shoulder a safer place to land. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the smirk drop off his face.

“You don’t have to–”

She waves him off, finally making eye contact (fully aware he won’t move unless she does), “It’s fine, Jones. You can’t sleep on that couch, Robin will kill me if I fuck up your back.”

He laughs at the mention of his trainer and seems to relax a bit. “If you’re sure?”

She scoots to the left and pats the bed next to her, solidifying her decision. Killian smiles tightly before grabbing the pillow and blanket off the couch and sliding in next to her. Ever the gentleman, he continues to scroll through his phone.

Even still, Emma is positive he can hear her heart beating at least 180bmp.

She knows he’s following her lead, he’d probably sit up straight all night if that’s what she did. With a soft sigh, she lays down, grabbing her phone to set an alarm for the morning. “I’m gonna get up around 7. I hope that’s not too early?”

“Seven is perfect, love. I’m an early riser.” Killian looks at her when he says it – love– and she swears all the oxygen leaves her body. There’s probably nothing actually intimate about the way he’s staring at her, but the situation has Emma’s nerves firing on all cylinders.

“Oh. Great. I just usually take my morning run…” She trails off, realizing Killian doesn’t need an explanation, turning her head back to her phone as a much needed reprieve from the intensity of his eyes. She’s grateful when he breaks the silence.

“Aye, Swan. Me as well. Maybe…” He pauses and she looks up at him again. He shakes his head and turns back to what looks like a Twitter feed.

He’s nervous.

“Maybe you can join me! I’m not familiar with the area so it’d probably be safer… for both of us.” She’s not sure where it came from but her invitation is genuine. The nerves leave his face and are replaced with a boy-ish grin.

“I’d like that.” She takes in his smile and is pretty sure Michaelangelo couldn’t have chiseled someone so stunning.

Get a grip, Emma.

“Awesome. 7 it is then. Goodnight, Killian.” She doesn’t realize she called him Killian until she hears his breath hitch slightly. She rolls over, facing away from him before she does something absolutely stupid. The click of his phone locking signals his decision to sleep as well, and she feels him shift on his side of the bed. As his movement stops, Emma is able to fully relax, beginning to doze off much quicker than she expected. Right before she falls asleep completely, she swears she hears him speak in a soft whisper. “Goodnight, love.”

When she wakes up to his legs entangled in hers, she pretends to sleep as long as she can, taking in every moment of the early morning peace before she inevitably has to wake up. She manages to keep her breath even and eyes closed long enough for Killian to wake up and slowly work his way out of the bed. Even though the loss of his body heat feels like being shoved in a freezer, she stays still until she hears the click of the hotel room door. It’s then that she sits up, running her fingers through her hair and catches a brief whiff of his scent he left behind. She misses it the moment it dissipates.

Emma Swan, you are fucked.

. . .

The sun streaming through the window is the first clue that Killian isn’t in his flat– room darkening curtains being his only hope of sleeping past 5am– the second is the bright white pillow reflecting said sun beneath his head, and the third is the feeling of soft legs entangled in his own. It takes every ounce of muscle control he has not to move. As he takes in his current situation, he smells the sweet scent of vanilla which he can only trace to the mop of blonde curls which seem to have taken up residence on his chest. He subtly pinches himself in the side, positive this is just one of the many dreams he’s had of this nature.

He’s both parts relieved and terrified to realize he doesn’t need to wake up because he’s already wide awake.

He knows if Emma gets up now, any chance he has at waking up this way ever again, will run (probably literally) out the door. Reluctantly, he moves out from underneath her, feeling the loss of connection instantly and missing it just as suddenly. Grabbing his phone he checks the time. 6:30. He has another half hour before she wakes up, but he can’t risk losing her already… not when he hasn’t even had the chance to have her. He gets up from the bed and quietly leaves the room to grab them some coffee from the continental breakfast.

When he makes it back to the room, Emma is scrolling through her phone, fully dressed for their run. He checks his watch and finds it’s still before seven so she must have woken up on her own. He’s not sure what to say, but she looks up at him and he can’t help but apologize, “Good morning, Swan. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Morning. I– uh– woke up and you were gone.” She eyes the coffee cup in his hand, “Is that for me?” He smiles at her and nods before reaching out to give her the correct cup. Her “coffee” is basically milk and sugar with a splash of coffee, and she would probably be unpleasantly surprised to taste his black brew. As she returns to her phone, sipping carefully on the hot beverage, Killian grabs his workout clothes from his duffle and heads into the bathroom to change.

Going on a run with Emma was probably not his best idea. For one thing, she's insanely athletic, always three or four paces in front of him, but mostly it's the way she looks. Her heavy breaths up and down as the sweat drips down her sharp face… not to mention the yoga pants.

He’s going to need a very cold shower after this.

They ultimately run about 8 miles before ending up back at the hotel doubled over and trying to catch their breath. “Not bad, Jones… you know, for an old man.” He’s entirely out of oxygen but can’t help but laugh as she smirks at him and cracks a joke.

He wants forever to be like this. Has he said bloody hell? Because bloody hell.

They walk back into the hotel, grabbing water bottles from the small convenient store, and heading up to their room. The entire time Killian feels like he’s walking on air. Emma is chatty and smiling and he’s stunned that he has played even a small part in that. She walks into the room before him, turning around to ask him if she can jump in the shower first and all he can do is smile and nod. In his time alone, he realizes he’s entirely too infatuated with someone who is completely off limits. Since he picked her up at her apartment yesterday, they’ve felt more like friends than coworkers and after last night, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want even more than that.

He can’t.

It’s not that he’s worried about his career– fuck the UFC for all he cares– but Emma has Henry to worry about and she’s worked hard to get to where she’s at; he can’t ruin that for her. He vows to himself that he won’t let whatever feelings he’s grown for her affect her life. He watches how she moves about that life, determined and courageous, and he falls a little harder every single day. He can’t do anything to ruin that. Seeing her soft smile when she finally exits the bathroom only solidifies his determination to do right by her; keep things on the side of business casual and make sure her career kickstarts. By all means Emma doesn’t need his help, but an extremely successful client couldn’t hurt. He silently adds a resolution to train, fight, and promote to the absolute best of his ability to his vow. He’ll win that belt and he’ll do it for her. He’ll do it all for her.

As if there’s another option.

#captain swan ff #cs ff #killian jones #emma swan #CS modern AU #worth fighting for #capthamm

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starkerforlife6969 · 6 years ago

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Starker- Lady and the Tramp

The omega in the window is the haughtiest little princess Tony has ever seen.

And he wants him more than anything.

The New York streets are cold and his coat is too threadbare to withstand the icy chill of late fall, but he blusters his way up sixth street to the high-end boutique with the omega in the window anyway.

When he gets there, Peter is reclining on a lavender chaise-langue pressed against the window inside. It’s the prime spot for him. All the passers-by stop and coo over how beautiful he is and Peter preens at all the attention. By the time Tony gets there, there are already a few alphas cooing. A plump lady with a Gucci handbag, tapping at the glass and murmuring sweet things, and a man in a three piece suit and slicked back hair, with a gaze so dark and lustful that Tony feels a prickle of irritation towards him.

He waits until they begrudgingly get on with their day, before he ambles up to the glass and grins.

Peter rolls his eyes as soon as he sees him, lifting his snooty little nose into the air and Tony laughs. “Morning, Petey,” he beams loudly, knowing the nickname irritates the posh thing, “thought I’d drop by and say hello. Still not accepted any Alphas yet? Or can no one afford you?”

He’s teasing, but it’s a real feat to keep the waver of awe out of his voice because Peter is as stunning today as he is always. He’s clad in pink chiffon and glittery highlighter on his cheeks and something amethyst and glossy on his lips. His chestnut curls tumble into his eyes and he looks like a diamond- and for all Tony’s teasing, he has to curl his hands into fists, because he’s just a 17 year old Alpha who barely gets by, and he could never get someone like Peter.

“No one could afford me,” Peter says primly, stretching out over the antique furniture like a satisfied cat, and his white skin is tempting as milk and Tony very nearly pouts when Peter sits up and his teddy covers up the top of his lovely thighs. Peter notices, and bats his eyelashes innocently. “Are you worried someone might snatch me away?” Peter giggles, and it’s so close to the truth that Tony bites back a growl.

“I don’t care what happens to you,” he lies, catching sight of his dirty reflection in the glass. Peter is clean and sparkly and luxurious. Tony is grimey and his coat is threadbare. “You could reject any alpha you wanted- and you clearly have. You’re too high-maintenance for me. Way too picky. When an omega says yes to me, I guarantee they’ll care about more than just money.”

Peter’s lips have parted in surprise, and his eyes flash in indignation. He huffs loudly, and spins away from the glass, disappearing into the shop.

Tony grits his teeth in regret, before walking away.

*** He works three different jobs- he’s a bike messenger, a bouncer, and a pizza delivery boy. It doesn’t pay much, but Pepper, another alpha and his best friend in the world, let’s him sleep on the couch and never likes taking money from him.

He slips it into her purse whenever he can though.

It’s getting colder, but he cycles up the street anyway, towards the boutique.

There’s no one around when he get’s there- he’s not surprised. It’s freezing. And he spots Peter’s big, amber doe-eyes glancing up and down the street, like he’s looking for-

Tony gets off his bike with a huge grin. “Were you looking for me, Petey?” He asks delightedly, and Peter flushes with a surly little glower, but doesn’t turn away. In fact, he seems to push a little closer to the glass and Tony softens.

“You didn’t- come by.” Peter says eventually, a little huff in his voice, but something gentle there too.

Oh god, Tony thinks, all of a sudden. Peter’s never said yes to anyone before, but he looks for Tony in the street and Tony-

He has to get his act together. Has to earn enough money to- to support Peter- to love him right-

“I’m gonna fix this.” He says, pressing his hand against the glass, leaving a smudge, and Peter blinks in confusion.

“Fix what?”

“Everything.” Tony vows, before getting on his bike and cycling away.

*** When he was a kid, he fiddled around a bit with electronics. Still does, here and there. He made a very ugly, but very practical lamp that turns on when you clap and Pepper adores it. He’s rusty- really rusty, but he borrows his best friend’s library card and tries to swot up where he can.

He has to do it between juggling jobs- which means he doesn’t get much sleep, and it all looks a bit hopeless until one night in the library, he’s tinkering about with a circuit board he took out of a dumpster, when Norman Osborn walks in.

He’s got a very little beta with him, who’s very clearly demanding an entire range of books, and Tony snorts to himself and thinks, if they’re so rich, why don’t they just buy them? Before Norman spots him.

Tony knows who Norman Osborne is. Everyone has an Oscorp Phone. Even Tony. His is used and should be broken because he found it lying in the street in the rain, but he’d fixed it up himself. It may not be the most refined thing, but it works.

Norman spots said phone on the desk, and then looks to the circuit board, and then takes in Tony’s whole appearance. Namely, the dark eye bags, the dirty clothes, and the slightly gaunt cheeks.

Tony never took Norman for a kind man, but he sees something in Norman’s face that night in the library.

“You want an internship, kid?” Norman asks, and Tony feels his jaw unhinge.

*** It’s just an internship, it’s only about 25k a year, but to Tony, it might as well be a million. He races to the boutique, proof of work in hand, and a plan to go to the bank and ask for a loan and then-

Peter’s eyes widen into little suns when Tony explains it to him. And Tony is vibrating with so much joy and energy that he nearly doesn’t understand it when Peter says-

“No, Tony.” In a firm voice.

Tony wavers. His world seems to cock to one side. He shakes his head. “I- no, Pete, this is-“

“Tony,” Peter says again, and there’s no teasing or haughtiness to his voice now. He looks… “Tony, look at you. You’re…you’re so thin.”

Tony looks down at himself. Peter is all smooth, plump curves, and Tony is-

He feels the cold much more easily than he used to.

He shakes his head. “I’ve got the internship, Pete. This is all gonna change- you won’t have to worry. I’ll work my way up and-“

Peter lets out a little noise of pain, and he shakes his head harder. “You are not wasting your money on me!”

“Wasting- Peter, the whole reason-“

Peter’s eyes sparkle with tears and they run down his blushed cheeks. “I don’t care about money, Tony! I’m not-“ he sniffles, and Tony doesn’t know what to do. Peter is, though. He’s used to fine silks and three course meals and Tony can only provide that if he dedicates a lot of money to- “I just want you and stale cheerios and shelter from the rain.”

Tony’s heart. He feels wetness in his own eyes. He presses his hand against the glass, and Peter does too. “You know what cheerios are?” He teases and Peter sniffles around a giggle. But Tony sobers. “No. Pete. You- you deserve more than that. I’m going to the bank-“

“May!” Peter calls, eyes never leaving Tony’s, “I’ve picked my alpha.”

Tony blinks. “Wait, no- I don’t have the money yet-“

May appears, takes one look at Tony, and smiles a private smile. “Tony Stark,” she says through the glass, beckoning him in. “For you, there’s a special deal. Peter Parker? One dollar.”

Tony’s pretty sure he faints.

***

Peter perches on the back of Tony’s bike and Tony keeps apologising, stumbling over his sorry’s because he doesn’t have a car, but Peter just nuzzles into the back of Tony’s neck and tells him he doesn’t mind at all.

Pepper is shell-shocked, but nods and says they can both sleep on her couch, and Tony is nearly drowning in his guilt when he sees Peter- the most prized omega in New York, asleep in the corner of Pepper’s lumpy couch. It’s fine for Tony- but not for- not for someone as delicate and precious as Peter.

Peter never complains, but Tony knows he must- he must want, need, more.

“I’m going to get a job.” Peter says over their ramen noodles one night. Tony stares at him, taking a moment to stop feeling guilty over the fact that Peter isn’t eating steak and caviar.

“What?”

“A job. You’ve got the internship and the bouncer role, I should get a job too.”

“No, no, you don’t need to-“

“Tony?” Peter whispers, reaching across the table to touch his alpha’s hand. “I’m happier here with you than I ever was in that boutique, or than I could ever be with someone else. If you actually noticed that, you’d realise I’ve been throwing myself at you since we got here.”

They have sex on Pepper’s couch that night.

Full of ramen, and messy and clumsy, and Tony bites down hard on Peter’s neck and promises him a better life- better than this, something he deserves and Peter curls his fingers tight into Tony’s hair and says-

“All I want is you.”

***

But Peter does get a job, and Tony learns slowly, but surely, that Peter doesn’t want fancy gifts. What he wants is for Tony to spend his money on practical things. Like food and savings and a thicker coat.

He works hard at his internship, and his brain feels so exercised that he starts coming up with better ideas, and then one day Norman says-

“I need an assistant.”

Everything tumbles over itself pretty quickly after that. He’s making enough to rent his own place, and he thanks Pepper with everything- promises he owes her more than she can know, and she just laughs, and kisses him, and kisses Peter too, and helps them move their few belongings.

It’s a small place- in the outskirts of Brooklyn, so the commute is a bitch everyday, but Peter has to commute too, and they hold hands on the subway and Tony doesn’t think he’d trade it for anything.

They fill expensive wine bottles with grape juice, and drink it while watching old re-runs on the tv, and Peter always leaps onto Tony’s lap and starts kissing him like he can’t bear not to, and the grape juice spills all over the floor and Tony carries his omega to bed.

It takes a while to really, really know that Peter doesn’t want more than they have.

Tony is the one who wants more than they have. He wants more for them, but maybe-

as Peter burns macaroni and cheese, or dances around to the radio, or beseechingly tries to lure a stray cat inside-

Tony watches with a heart so full of love, he thinks-

maybe he should be happy with what they have. They have something wonderful, after all.

*** They don’t have to get married, but they do.

At a tiny chapel in Brooklyn with three people here. Peter wears white and he cries and Tony wears black and he cries too.

They keep putting their money in the bank, and Tony keeps working away at electronics, and Peter- working at the library downtown- starts reading up on electronics too.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

*** When Peter makes his first circuit board and the toaster works again, Tony comes home and lifts him into the air, and spins him around.

“I’m gonna get Norman to hire you,” Tony grins, and Peter giggles.

Two weeks later, Peter is an intern.

He’s on much less than Tony was, because he still has so much to learn, but Norman was swayed by the pretty omega- and after the disbelief of finding out such a beautiful thing was married to Tony Stark, he’d just patted his assistant on the back and shook his head in wonder.

“There is something about you, Tony.” He’d mused, and Tony had beamed.

Harry, Norman’s now 4 year old son, takes to Peter too. He’s very clearly besotted, and he stares longingly across the lab and Tony tries not to feel jealous of a child.

Peter finds the whole thing hilarious, so Tony just has to fuck him even harder when they get home.

Peter doesn’t mind that either.

***

When Norman dies, it’s a shock.

When everyone finds out he left the company to his assistant, shareholders scramble.

Tony is calm, though. He’s collected.

He releases the new phone he was working on, to rave reviews. He names it the N.0, after the man who changed his life.

Stock shoots up.

To much controversy, and with a visit to Norman’s grave, he changes the name over the company, to Stark Industries.

***

He has more money than he knows what to do with.

Wrong.

They have more money.

He buys a penthouse and it doesn’t put a dent in the hoard. He spoils Peter with everything and Peter treats him just the same- loving and caring, like they’re still on Pepper’s couch, and not in a place of luxury up in the clouds.

Tony hires Pepper as COO.

It doesn’t make up for everything she’s done for him, but she cries like it does.

“Tony,” Peter whispers one night, stretched out on the expensive silk sheets, and he’s wearing make up again now that they can afford it, and he’s in gorgeous hues of pink, and for one second, Tony can’t move. He feels sixteen again, staring at the unattainable omega through the shop window.

But he’s not. He’s taller and broader and there’s a gold band on his ring because he married that gorgeous boy. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss Peter thoroughly, until his omega is a little dazed.

“Harry’s- I don’t think- his aunt doesn’t seem…”

Tony nods. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Harry is ten.

He’s surly and he’s hurting, but he cuddles into Peter and sobs and Peter holds him tight.

Tony reads him a bed time story, and Harry gazes up at him in awe; eyes still rimmed red- heart still gaping from the wound of losing a father.

“Are you my new family?” Harry croaks into the darkness, little fingers clutching the sheets in distress, and Tony turns to see Peter smiling and crying in the golden light of the doorway.

“Yeah, we are, kiddo,” Tony whispers, stroking Harry’s cheek. “And it doesn’t matter if we didn’t have a dime, because we’d always love each other.”

“Damn straight,” Peter whispers, and Harry laughs: sad, and hopeful.

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years ago

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Plea for My New Self

Sanders sides Vampire College AU - it’s gay - it’s full of fun fluffy tropes - a bit o’ hurt/comfort - mostly fluff

Words: 5,141 Warnings: Arguing, Violent thoughts Characters: Virgil, Roman, Thomas, Elliot, Kai Mitchell, Seth Ships: Prinxiety, Eventual clam’d Universe: Plea for my New Self Rating: T Genre: Vampire Nonsense

Chapter 30: We Only Come Out at Night

Chapter 1 for New Readers - ffn mirror

Roman was on stage running through his lines with the rest of the cast. They were told not to put too much emphasis on delivery and focus on learning the script today, but Virgil knew that Roman already knew how he wanted to deliver it. Like Septimus was a scoundrel and he would run in through. Which wasn’t unreasonable for the play, honestly. The action does get threatened, and all.

Virgil and Elliot were putting together a list of things they needed to go out and retrieve. Virgil thought a period-reasonable wallpaper would be nice, but finding one at a modern hardware store would be unreasonable at best. The plan was to check, but they weren’t to get their hopes up and focus on grabbing the other supplies.

“I don’t know if my car would fit this stuff,” Elliot muttered, looking over the list.

“Mine wouldn’t either. How about we catch a ride over and rent one of those trucks to bring it all back?” Virgil said, leaning back on the floor next to Elliot. He looked over to the storage pile and fought the urge to go organize it again. If he didn’t look at it he could pretend it wasn’t a nightmare he longed to fix.

“Oh, can I use the truck afterword?” Mitchell perked up after a moment. Ugh, well, at least Virgil had something to hate more than the disorder in here.

“No, my insurance doesn’t cover other drivers,” Virgil glared. The only favor Virgil was doing Mitchell was not draining him and throwing the husk in a river.

“Ugh,” Mitchell flopped back on the chair, returning to clicking around on the laptop in his lap.

“So do we want to make frames or just buy some?” Virgil asked curiously, getting back on the subject.

“It depends on if you can find some frames that are lightweight enough,” Kai shrugged noncommittally. Virgil hummed in annoyance.

“Well, we shouldn’t go into the store without a blueprint for the windows we want to use, in case there are no pre-fab frames that work,” Elliot said a little meekly. Virgil raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m looking it up, don’t get your panties in a wad,” Mitchell clicked with his tongue and shot what only could be described as a smug glower over the top of his laptop screen.

“Oh, I thought you were just being a lazy asshole,” Kai chuckled and picked up a packet of papers off the table, flipping his hair out of the way. Kai had dyed half his hair magenta to go with the teal since Virgil last saw him, and it was cool. Virgil wouldn’t have thought those colors went together until Kai pulled it off. But Virgil’s probably just pro dark colors and maybe other people liked them together, too.

“Any luck finding that last chair, yet?” Mitchell called out to the storage room. Three ‘no’s piped up from various areas of the room. If they would let Virgil organize the room after hours they wouldn’t have this problem. Virgil chewed on his nail and glanced at the disorder again, bouncing his foot restlessly. “All right, I’ve got two options here of period stage window blueprints,” Mitchell said, flipping around his laptop to show the others. There were some large square windows and high arched ones.

“I love the look of the arched ones, but they’re probably too hard to make,” Kai said, sounding a little disappointed.

“I think it’s doable,” Virgil shrugged. “We can get the arch pre-fabbed at a big hardware store. We just have to put it all together evenly. We don’t have to make them perfect enough to actually fit window panes, just lined up properly,”

“Sawing an even arch in the plywood is the problem. We have to slot them into the backdrop,” Elliot pointed out.

“I have a pretty steady hand. I just need a practice piece of plywood first. I haven’t used a reciprocating saw in a little while,” Virgil offered to try it.

“We don’t have a reciprocating saw,” Mitchell rolled his eyes. Virgil just raised his eyebrow at him.

“You have the sawhorses, right?” Virgil asked, glancing around the storage again. Ugh, it made him nuts in here when he wasn’t doing anything about it. Even if he helped him look for the chair he’d be much happier. Virgil drummed his fingers on his thigh, miming playing a piano song he liked to pull his focus back.

“Yeah, We’ve got 3 or 4. They’re in the outer storage, we’re not allowed to get sawdust in here. Something about the ventilation,” Elliot replied, motioning to the room with the back of their pen. Virgil reached into his hoodie pocket and squeezed Vladimir.

“So, the wood glue is dried up and we’ll need some more. We also need more sandpaper and masks. And that practice piece of plywood for Virgil. We’ve got nails and staples for the staple gun already. We might need more eggshell for the windows, but probably just a pint or two,” Kai said, and Elliot double-checked the list in their hands.

“You’re seriously going to let him do the cutting? You’ve never seen him work!” Mitchell groaned, flipping his hand dismissively in Virgil’s direction.

“He has extremely out there hobbies, dude. It’s not that unbelievable he’s used power tools before,” Elliot muttered, shooting a nervous glance at Mitchell but mostly pretending to focus on the papers in front of them. “He could tune and fix the organ out there, at least, that’s a trade skill,” They added quietly and his eyes returned to actually scanning the paper.

“It’s a surprisingly old organ, it’s a shame nobody was doing maintenance on it,” Virgil casually commented, lolling his head to the side.

“I think it was donated by a grandparent of an alumnus,” Kai offhandedly offered in explanation. “Listen, if he fucks up too much on his practice piece, we have someone else do it. It’s not that hard to actually confirm if he can without damaging the sets. Hell, he can pick up two practice pieces for other people to try,” Kai rolled his eyes. “It’s not like anybody here is a master carpenter,” He added after a pause, flipping through the pages again and chewing on his lip in annoyance.

“Let’s get the sundries stuff with the budget and just let Virgil cover all the wood and saw. Then we’ll have plenty of money leftover for altering the costumes and making a new gown for Thomasina,” Elliot suggested. Virgil shrugged, he didn’t actually care if he paid for the whole thing or not, but he wasn’t pushing it.

“Have somebody take my laptop and get these blueprints and the list of woodcuts to go get printed out in the printer lab,” Mitchell said, closing his laptop lid.

“It’s your laptop, don’t you want to do it yourself?” Kai huffed, writing on the paper.

“I don’t have the money for copies. Send Virgil,” Mitchell shrugged with a little self-important smirk.

“I’ll give somebody else the money,” Virgil shook his head shrinking back.

“What, you can move a solid oak table alone but you can’t walk to the library?” Mitchell rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue again.

“I’m not going in the printer room,” Virgil objected, remembering how claustrophobic it was in that tiny room with the printers. It was also particularly bright today and he’d rather not go out until he had to go to the store.

“Afraid of printers or rabid seniors?” Mitchell asked derisively, grinning darkly.

“Don’t be an asshole, Mitchell,” Kai tried to shut Mitchell down, but he didn’t seem fazed.

“But it’s my most charming attribute,” Mitchell crossed his arms. Drinking from Roman did not stop Virgil’s desire to break Mitchell’s spine and throw him off a roof. He’s had that one a lot lately. Maybe he should be drinking from Roman more. Not that vampires weren’t naturally violent assholes in the first place. Virgil tried to shake it out of his head. “Of course it is,” Mitchell hissed haughtily. Mitchell must have misunderstood the head-shaking motion.

“That was unrelated. I don’t think you have any charming attributes. I’ll seriously give somebody $20 to go print it,” Virgil called out to the room. One of the new techs, Seth popped out from behind a backdrop excitedly. Virgil liked his audition for Gus, but he seemed just as happy back here, unlike the other two. They would probably get over it, though.

“Is that including the printing cost or a separate $20?” Seth asked, quickly jogging up.

“Damn, Seth, I’ll give you $40 if you’re that desperate, take his laptop and print out the pages he’s got open,” Virgil pointed to Mitchell’s laptop.

“Thanks, V!” He smiled and held out his hands for the laptop.

“I’ll take it for forty bucks,” Mitchell held his laptop close, not giving it up.

“The $40 offer is for Seth only, you’d get 5 bucks and a lollipop,” Virgil smirked maliciously at Mitchell, resisting the urge to flash his fangs.

“You’re a fucking prick, V,” Mitchell glowered down at him, flipping Virgil off quickly.

“And I’m fine with that,” Virgil reached into his wallet and pulled out $40 for Seth, who beamed like Virgil was his savior.

“Shit, how much do you have in there?” Elliot hissed in surprise when they caught sight of his wallet.

“Enough for the supplies,” Virgil said dismissively. He grabbed some extra cash in case supplies got expensive.

“I think you can also order pizza for the whole theatre,” Kai whistled, glancing at Virgil’s wallet before Virgil slid it back into his pocket.

“Probably not that much,” Virgil shrugged. That was a lot of college kids.

“V’s ordering pizza!” Mitchell called to the room and got some cheers as he handed off his laptop to Seth. He shot Virgil a shit-eating grin. Virgil just shrugged and pulled out his phone.

“What’s the address here? Is this building E or F?” Virgil asked nonchalantly. He could pay for this digitally. He wasn’t taking Mitchell’s bait to try to make Virgil look like a prick to everybody else by backing down. He knew this bullshit well enough. He’d order it for everybody, too, not just crew. Virgil would not give Mitchell fucking room to try to make him out to be a bigger asshole than he actually was. Virgil was perfectly aware he was an asshole, but he wasn’t allowing even an iota of it to be unearned. Deceit supports spite purchases even if Virgil didn’t have the money.

“It’s G, actually,” Elliot provided. “Are you serious?” They glanced curiously between Virgil’s face and his phone.

“Yeah, sure. Building D is next door. This campus is laid out so screwy,” Virgil grumbled, punching in the address. “How many vegan pizzas should I get?”

“I think one vegan and one gluten-free,” Kai suggested. “I think I remembered somebody having an intolerance,” He added, tapping his chin and looking up.

“So three pepperoni, three cheese, one vegan, and one gluten-free?” Virgil confirmed.

“I think we’re unintentionally throwing a party at this point,” Kai laughed. “Get one specialty one, too. And some soda,” Kai grinned.

‘Hey, I’ve just been heckled by an asshole to buy pizza for the whole theatre and I’m not backing down. Does the cast want anything?’ Virgil asked Roman mentally.

‘Mitchell, again? What’s his deal with you? God, throw him off a roof,’ Roman thought back bitterly. Aw, same murder thought. How sweet.

‘Yes, sir,’ Virgil snickered quietly while he added things to the cart.

‘I’m kidding. No murdering anybody in theatre. Shit, okay hold on, they’re hounding me,’ Roman thought, sounding a little panicked. Virgil could vaguely make out a cacophony from on stage through his headphones and felt bad for Roman.

“Don’t be so smug about it, fucker,” Mitchell whispered.

“I won’t fall for those tricks and that is a threat,” Virgil whispered back, glowering at him. Mitchell looked surprised, maybe that Virgil could hear him, or maybe he wasn’t used to being challenged. Virgil wasn’t sure of anything other than the fact Mitchell’s blood was just as red as the rest of Virgil’s prey.

“Guys, cut it out,” Kai rolled his eyes. It looked like he was going through the paper inventory again. Virgil exhaled in annoyance and tried to let it go.

‘Okay, like 5 orders of breadsticks, lots of pepperoni, a supreme, some apps, and basically every kind of soda they have,’ Roman thought back. ‘Also I think they might have undying gratitude to you, someone out here looks like they’re about to cry from relief. I heard someone offer their firstborn for cheese bread,’ Roman seemed amused.

‘College be like that sometimes. I’ll let you know when they get here, do you have the cash to tip the delivery guy if I’m still at the store?’ Virgil asked Roman in his head.

‘Yeah, no problem Virgil. Aggressive altruism is your kink, I got it,’ Roman’s grin was almost audible in his thoughts.

‘Speaking of, have I had any luck with Pat yet? They’re still being kind of distant,’ Virgil asked curiously.

‘I think so. Mostly because Pat’s so tired after work they’re starting to get sick,’ Roman thought.

‘Shit, really? I feel so bad for them. Nobody tells me these things,’ Virgil grumbled slightly.

‘Because you’re aggressively altruistic and it scares people,’ Roman thought back. That was probably fair. ‘Maybe some venom would help them out,’ Roman added teasingly.

‘Enough shoulder-deviling out of you, that’s Pat’s choice alone, and we haven’t talked about that yet,’ Virgil huffed.

‘I’m just saying,’ Roman thought in a sing-song tone.

‘You’re talking to D too much,’ Virgil sighed and started adding random appetizers. Somebody would probably eat chicken wings. They’re college kids, somebody would take home leftovers of anything. He once saw a guy eat cold meat and bean chili on those fake nacho cheese chips for breakfast in the dorms. Virgil didn’t get human food, but that couldn’t have been all right. It smelled like death. Virgil had smelled some shit in his lifetime, but the ‘food’ in that styrofoam bowl still haunted his smell memory. And that fucker chased it with a fruit strip. Nightmare material.

‘You’re right, I am. You should order a Hawaiian and see if anybody throws down,’ Roman thought back teasingly.

‘I should have known to never put you two in the same room together,’ Virgil rolled his eyes. He was interested, though. ‘I’m going to do it,’ Virgil added a large Hawaiian pizza to the cart. ‘Don’t tell anybody, I want to see how this plays out,’ Virgil smirked inwardly at the idea.

‘You shouldn’t be allowed in the same room with him, either. If they do fight, we’ve got to record it, D would cry with laughter,’ Roman laughed mentally. D actually might. ‘Shut up now, we’re getting back to running lines after you derailed rehearsal,’ Roman thought, dismissing Virgil.

Virgil finished his order. It was pretty large and had way over two hours till it was even ready for delivery, which meant it would probably arrive after they finished running lines, and hopefully just in time for Virgil to get back.

“Back!” Seth called, jogging back up with a handful of pages and holding Mitchell’s laptop tight. “Here’s your laptop back,” Seth passed it over and Mitchell took it sourly. Kai took the pages, separating the supplies and blueprints and handing off the page with the listed cuts to Virgil. Virgil scanned the paged and passed them to Elliot to slide on his gloves.

“It’s not that cold out, you weirdo, why are you putting on gloves?” Mitchell pulled a disgusted face.

“They’re my bitch slapping gloves. Did you want to volunteer to be the bitch?” Virgil hissed and glared intensely at Mitchell. God, he just wanted any excuse to rip that kid’s throat out. It felt like Mitchell had been harassing him nonstop since auditions.

“All right, V’s reached his Mitchell tolerance for the day, you guys are barred from each other when Virgil and Elliot get back from the hardware store,” Kai rolled his eyes, holding out the papers he was holding between their glaring eye line.

“Fine by me,” Mitchell shot. Kai pulled his papers back.

“I hope that means he can’t have any pizza,” Virgil smiled impishly and Mitchell scowled at him. Oh, that’s the face of a man who would eat too much pizza out of spite. Virgil considered that a victory.

“Go buy wood you catty motherfucker,” Kai groaned. Virgil shrugged and tilted his head to express he was letting it go and summoned a rideshare to head to the store.

“You ready to go, El?” Virgil stood up off the floor and held out a hand for Elliot. Elliot took it to get up with a small smile.

“Oh, I like the magenta, Kai. I don’t think I mentioned it earlier when we got here,” Virgil added, checking to see when the car would get near.

“Thanks. I like your ridiculously long wig. That thing must be heavy as fuck,” Kai commented and pointed to Virgil’s hair.

“I can head-bang with the best of them, now,” Virgil chuckled. “The car’s almost here, already. Let’s get going,” Virgil smiled and waved to Kai and scowled quickly at Mitchell before heading out of the storage room to go meet the car. Mitchel grimaced in return and flipped him off.

—

“I think I ate too much pizza,” Roman whined, holding his stomach as they walked out of the theatre with Thomas.

“It did smell good. I lived vicariously through you tonight,” Thomas chuckled a little bitterly. “Things got off track when the pizza got there, I never found out the set plans. What did you find?”

“We’re making a new set backdrop with windows from a blueprint. There was no frames lightweight enough. Everything the store had was modern, anyway, and El and I didn’t like that,” Virgil lazily slid his hands into his pocket and glanced around in the dark. Other than other people exiting the theatre hall they were mostly alone.

“It’s good you only have to make one backdrop, then, that will probably take a while,” Thomas folded his arms and nodded.

“Yeah. Humans do stuff so slow,” Virgil chuckled.

“It’s a part-time club, Virgil,” Roman rolled his eyes and lazily punched Virgil in the arm. “We can’t all have vampire insomnia,” Roman huffed angrily and threw up his arms in Virgil’s direction.

“All right, that was unfair of me,” Virgil apologized and planted a kiss on Roman’s check. He paused because something felt off when he felt Roman’s skin.

“What?” Roman asked, stopping. Thomas also stopped and turned around. Virgil reached up and felt Roman’s cheek with the back of his palm.

“Hey, Thomas, does Ro feel hot to you?” Virgil asked, reaching out for Thomas’s hand and putting it on Roman’s forehead.

“Yeah, kind of. We’re probably not the best judges, though,” Thomas chuckled. Roman felt his face after Thomas dropped his hand.

“I feel normal. I also don’t feel sick other than maybe one too many breadsticks,” Roman said and rubbed his stomach lightly. “It’s probably nothing,” Virgil shrugged and wrapped his arm around Roman’s shoulders and they returned to walking together, Thomas also resuming his walk with them.

“So what are you doing tonight?” Virgil asked, lazily petting Roman’s shoulder.

“Oh, hanging out with Joan and Talyn. Maybe Remy and Emile if they decide to show up. Sometimes they do or don’t. We’re watching horror movies. Do you want to come? My couch is pretty huge,” Thomas offered, slipping his thumbs in his belt loops as they walked ahead.

“That’s a lot of people in one apartment,” Virgil muttered. Roman slid his hand in Virgil’s back pocked and leaned into his arm.

“Oh, yeah, claustrophobia. Sorry,” Thomas said, sounding contrite.

“It’s a shame you can’t just rent out a theatre or something. That’d be cool,” Roman mused, smiling at Virgil.

“I think Daddy Warbucks only pulled it off because it was the great depression and the theatre would have gone under, otherwise,” Virgil laughed under his breath. “Nah, this last-minute the best I could do is a hotel suite or something,” Virgil shrugged.

“Oh, that would be fun!” Roman grinned deliberately at Virgil, raising his eyebrows impishly.

“I’m not getting you drunk again, Roman, your inner evil siren comes out too much,” Virgil groaned sourly, rolling his head.

“What did he do?” Thomas asked, sounding intrigued and raising his eyebrow.

“We got a video of Virgil and D doing a fancy Spanish bullfighting dance,” Roman said proudly, shooting Virgil a mischievous grin.

“Among other things,” Virgil grumbled under his breath.

“Oh, I want to see that!” Thomas said, and Virgil wasn’t excited about how hopeful he sounded.

“Well, we haven’t shown Pat or Specs, either. Maybe we should get a hotel suite and we can show the video before watching some movies! It’s Friday night, it’s the best time for chilling,” Roman suggested, still smiling like a kid who snuck a ton of cookies from the cookie jar.

“Hecate, please strike me down,” Virgil moaned, running his hand through his hair.

“You loved dancing with him, you dork,” Roman smacked Virgil playfully and rolled his eyes.

“I did, but you guys watching is embarrassing. I didn’t know any of those people at the parties and I cannot stress how drunk I was,” Virgil grumbled, feeling incredibly self-conscious. “Going to parties where people were drunk was the best way to feed at the time,” He added under his breath.

“It’s fine, you love us. You’ll deal,” Roman dismissed him, fluttering his eyebrows flirtatiously. Virgil sighed dramatically.

“He does have an inner evil siren, huh?” Thomas laughed. “I’d be fine with switching to a giant TV at a hotel, just let me know if you actually want to and I’ll ask Joan and Talyn if they’re cool with that,”

“Hm, yeah, I do want to meet Joan and Talyn. May as well get it over with. At least I get to see some guts get ripped out to distract me from wanting to die in a fire out of mortification,” Virgil sighed in resignation.

“Ugh,” Roman huffed. “Your interest in the material is almost more disturbing than the content,” Virgil took his hand off of Roman’s shoulder and Roman separated so Virgil could open his phone to hunt down a large hotel suite.

“All that murder instinct has to go somewhere,” Virgil chuckled as he started looking for roomy suites and large TVs.

“Being scared is half the fun, Roman. It’s not real. I’m sure Virgil is happy to hold you if you get scared,” Thomas said with a lilting laugh. Virgil smirked at Roman who rolled his eyes.

“Ro, invite Pat and Lo while I find someplace big enough for this,” Virgil requested. Roman nodded.

“Cool, I’ll see if Joan and Talyn are willing to move locations,” Thomas said, sliding his hands into his pockets. Virgil watched him not get his phone out in confusion.

“Are you in a clan with them or something?” Virgil asked curiously.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Didn’t I tell you? Joan’s my sire,” Thomas shrugged.

“Isn’t Joan one of Remy’s betas? I mean, I’m still cracking the Emoji code, but I think he is,” Virgil was pretty positive at least.

“Yeah, Remy’s our alpha. Why do you think he hangs out with me sometimes?” Thomas laughed airily. “I don’t think he’d give me the time of day otherwise, he’s got lots of things going on,” Thomas tilted his head considerately.

“He’s a complete mystery to me. I couldn’t assume his motivations for anything,” Virgil said, almost in awe of the situation. “Wait, you’re an omega?” He realized, looking up from his phone to Thomas in surprise.

“Yeah,” Thomas said dismissively, sounding distracted. Probably still talking to his clan.

“Oh, that’s why you seem to handle the sun so well,” Virgil mused. “I was wondering about that. Omegas didn’t normally survive that long back in the day, I don’t see lots of them. It’s mostly Betas out there,” Virgil explained his confusion with the situation.

“Oh, thanks for that vote of confidence,” Thomas said sarcastically and shot a grimace to Virgil. Virgil thought Thomas had a surprisingly similar face to Virgil’s when he was grimacing.

“Things aren’t as gut-throat as they used to be before bags got big,” Virgil offered in consolation. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Remy seems like he’d throw down at the drop of a hat, he’d probably protect you,” He added confidently.

“Don’t you mean cut-throat?” Roman asked, looking kind of disgusted.

“No,” Virgil and Thomas said in unison and Roman shivered.

“He would, Remy’s super protective. It’s just a little too real,” Thomas said, sounding a little dour.

“Sorry, Thomas,” Virgil pulled Thomas in for a side hug.

“Eh, I know you didn’t mean I wouldn’t survive long. Thanks, though,” Thomas shrugged, looking a little less upset.

“Why are omegas more at risk than betas?” Roman asked curiously. “Pat’s down, they’re trying to convince Logan to come out, by the way,” Roman added, sounding eager.

“They’re the closest to still being human. Fewer vampire weaknesses, but not as much of the strength either. A beta is kind of like three-quarters of a vampire and an omega is half. Metaphorically, anyway, it’s a little more complex than that, physically. Lots of little trade-offs and things,” Virgil tried to explain.

“So you can be in the sun and stuff?” Roman asked curiously.

“Yeah, I can get a little sun and be okay. I get less sick if I eat human food, but it still happens. Silver is more like a severe allergy. Still can sleep and stuff. I can’t flit, just run fast. I’m significantly stronger and faster than a human, though, and I stopped aging. I do also need to breathe. Remy creeps me out when he stops,” Thomas stuck out his tongue in distaste.

“Woah, Virge, you don’t have to breathe?” Roman shot, looking and Virgil with wide eyes.

“I can go a few hours without oxygen, yeah. I don’t stop unless I’m underwater, though. Remy’s just weird, I think. There’s no reason not to unless there’s an awful smell,” Virgil said, furrowing his eyebrows. Maybe he just enjoyed freaking people out?

“That’s wild,” Roman whistled. “That explains how you jammed with a mermaid,” Roman muttered. “Thomas is safe, though, right?” Roman asked, looking concerned.

“It wasn’t that long ago when territory stuff was a bigger deal. Technology made it easier to coexist and it’s easier for omegas. Like I said, we’re territorial bastards. Vampires don’t normally get along in the same room, or square miles, after a while. Instincts start kicking in,” Virgil shrugged dismissively.

“Wait, then why are we putting two clans together in a hotel room?” Roman stopped, looking extremely concerned.

“We’ll probably just involuntarily hiss at each other at worst, Roman, don’t worry about it. Remy and I can leave and duke it out until our instincts settle down. If the alpha’s instincts settle down, the turned will, too,” Virgil explained. It really wasn’t a big deal as long as everyone agreed to be civil, and Remy seemed to like Virgil for some reason, so he wasn’t worried about it. If anything, he looked forward to punching Remy square in the jaw.

“That’s still terrifying as a human in the room,” Roman shuddered. “Logan just agreed to it, though, so it’s too late to back out,” Virgil pulled in Roman’s head to kiss it to help him calm down.

“Joan and Talyn are down. Remy said he’d probably show up, too,” Thomas added cheerily.

“How about Emile?” Roman perked up.

“Emile says he wants to meet Virgil, so probably. He didn’t respond, he’s probably out of range. I’m just barely in range of Remy myself to use the link,” Thomas shrugged.

“Pat would love Emile,” Roman smiled.

“As long as he keeps his psychoanalysis to himself,” Virgil grunted in distaste.

“He’s an amazing guy, V, don’t be like that,” Thomas huffed, flipping his hand.

“I’m sure he is, but I am a sleeping bear that doesn’t like to be poked,” Virgil grumbled. Roman patted Virgil’s back, and Virgil wasn’t sure if it was affectionately or patronizingly.

“He might be too busy screaming into somebody’s chest to poke the bear,” Thomas laughed. “Emile always eventually ends up shrieking cartoonishly and sometimes tries to hide in Remy’s clothes,”

“Well, that’s pretty damn cute actually,” Virgil snickered a little. “D loves slasher films, and he probably wants to be there for accolades for the dancing video. Let me pester him, too,” Virgil shot D a quick text and went back to his hotel hunt. He’d found 3 suitable options from the photos, but finding literal square footage for rooms is hard. They list the TV, sizes but not how big the room is. It’s fucking dumb. He should just pick the one with the biggest TV and a surround system. It also had a hot tub that almost looked like a little pool, so the room was probably big to house that. Virgil placed the reservation and sent Thomas the address.

“Pat’s mad we had pizza without them,” Roman stated and smirked.

“We can pick up a pizza and salad for Logan on the way over. I just found one. We can head over there as soon as we pack some stuff from our dorm, and Pat and Logan are ready to go,” Virgil said. “We can get pick up or just go to a grocery store. This room has a full kitchen,” Virgil pointed out.

“Text me when you’re checked in so we can come over,” Thomas waved.

“Pick out something horrible for me,” Virgil saluted him as he pivoted away.

“Are you going to flit us over?” Roman asked brightly.

“Three people? Are you nuts? I have only have two arms, Ro,” Virgil groaned. “We took my car back from D’s apartment, remember? I can just drive us there,” Virgil said, flicking his thumb across Roman’s cheek.

“No, I was half asleep and still kind of drunk,” Roman chuckled. “I don’t even remember getting back to the dorm,” Roman added thoughtfully.

“That’s because I carried your ass upstairs while you slept. Speaking of that night, try to keep your evil temptations at a minimum tonight,” Virgil warned Roman. Roman just pulled an innocent face at Virgil, clearly pretending to have no idea what Virgil was talking about. Virgil sighed and wrapped his arm back around Roman as they walked. Roman laughed and put his arm around Virgil’s waist and squeezed slightly as they headed back to the dorms.

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captaindamnron · 5 years ago

Text

Am I too late?

Modern AU. rating M.

“London is my home. London is your home. I didn’t change the plan, Rey, you did. If–” he took in a deep breath, as though steeling himself, before continuing, “If you choose to go… you’re choosing to go without me.“

Rey’s head twist and turned, searching the crowded arrival hall of the airport for her brother. She had just started to think that maybe Ben was late when she finally spotted him. A huge bright smile formed across her face as soon as she took him in. His face held the same expression hers had surely mirrored only a minute ago. He was searching the crowd for her as well, and it was obvious when he finally spotted her too, his facial expression shifting to match her big grin.

She sprinted across the hall, weaving through the crowd of people, practically shrieking in excitement when she reached him. She immediately dropped her bag to the floor and jumped into his arms. Engulfing him in a bear hug, she didn’t realize how much she missed Ben, missed everyone, and even missed London, until she finally laid eyes on him. Her family had come to visit her in Liverpool a few times over the years but she hadn’t been back to London since she left. Maybe it was the fact that she was finally home in London that made their reunion this time all that much sweeter than the ones they’d had in Liverpool.

“Gosh, Rey, have you gained weight? You weigh a ton,” Ben had gasped out from the choke hold Rey’s arms had around his neck. Rey let go of her dear brother and quickly started launching a barrage of slaps to his torso.

“Wow, I’m back for five seconds and you’re already intolerable,” she said drily as Ben quickly grabbed her hands and pulled her back in for another hug.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he laughed. “Hey, if you can’t rip on your younger sister, who can you rip on?” Ben grabbed Rey bag from the floor and lead them to where he had parked the car. “Come on,” he said as he opened the door for her, tossing her bag onto the backseat. “Let’s get a move on. Paige will kill me if you miss your dress fitting.”

Rey got caught up on everything that had been going on over the past few days leading up to the wedding on the drive. Ben had lots of stories to tell, some funny, some sweet, some utterly horrifying.

“Mom is losing her mind trying to get everything at the estate ready for the wedding, and of course dad isn’t much help, ” Ben rambles as he drives. “He suddenly has to ‘work late’” Ben continues, releasing the steering wheel for just long enough to make the accompanying air quotes. “Mind, he’s only started having to work late this past week now that all the guest have started to arrive.”

Rey just shook her head with a giggle. She wasn’t surprised that their father had been hiding away. He was never all that into the parties their family hosted over the years, and this was going to be the biggest one of them all by far.

“Both mom and dad are over the moon, though, about having all us kids back under the same roof again,” Ben went on, and the smile on his face made it obvious that he was looking forward to it as well.

“I’m rather excited too, actually.” Rey admitted, matching his smile. “I haven’t slept in my old room since high school. It will be so much fun having you right down the hall again.” Rey said smiling back over at Ben.

Rey knew they were only a few minutes away from the dress shop when she decided to face the elephant in the room, or, in this case, the car. Looking out the passenger window, Rey finally asked, “So I’m guessing Poe and Finn are your groomsmen, no? How are they doing anyway?”

Ben looked from the road over to Rey. Just like she knew he would hence why she was now trying to hiding the blush rising to her cheeks. Ben knew Poe had to be on Rey mind but was surprised she actually brought him up.

“Yeah, they are," Ben paused momentarily, "Poe’s the best man, of course.”

“Of course,” Rey echoed, trying to act as cool as she could about it.

“Both are doing well,” Ben continued, “Finn has been working with dad at the office for a couple years now, and Poe actually just got promoted to an actual pilot’s position.”

Rey just nodded her head in response, unsure what to say, unsure what would even come out of her mouth if she attempted to speak. Even just hearing about Poe set her heart beating rapidly, her palms breaking out in a sweat. He shouldn’t be able to affect her like this still, the mere mention of his name shouldn’t affect her like this, and yet...

That’s when Ben let the bomb drop, “They will both be over at the house tonight,” Ben said in a voice that aimed and failed at being nonchalant. “Mom and dad invited the wedding party, as well as those from Paige’s and our extended family that are in town over for a little engagement party of sorts. A way for everyone to get acquainted, I guess, since we’re all finally together.” He kept glancing over at her to see what, if any, reaction she had to that.

Rey wouldn’t stop looking out the window, though. She knew Ben could read her like a book, and she didn’t want him to see just how much that news had affected her. This was it; she was indeed going to be seeing Poe in a matter of hours in her childhood home. The house they shared their first kiss in, the house they first... she stopped herself there, couldn’t bear to bring up those memories.

Luckily, Rey’s plan to wait till they were close to the dress shop to ask about Poe worked. They were already pulling up next to the shop. Rey quickly turned and gave Rob a kiss on the cheek and was out the door as fast as she could manage.

“Thanks for the ride,” she called over her shoulder, “see you tonight.”

Ben barely got an “okay, see you later,” out before she had shut the door and hurried into the shop.

The fitting went great. Unlike Ben had suggested, she had not gained weight and the measurements she sent to the seamstress were perfect, and there was no need for extra alterations. Rey did her best throughout the appointment to focus on Paige, and on catching up with her and very decidedly not thinking about Poe. Once they were finished, Paige took off to go meet her family for lunch, and Rey headed home.

As soon as she pulled up the driveway of her parent’s estate, Rey’s spirits were lifted. She was home. Oh, how she had missed it here. She hadn’t known one could miss a place this much.

Rey was a little disappointed that her mother wasn’t home when they got there. She had left a note for them that she was out running errands and would be back later.

“God, my room seems so much smaller than I remember,” Rey bellowed across the hall.

Looking and wandering through her old room, she realized and remembered the person she was when younger and how she has changed. At the time, Rey was a young teenager with an ambition to build cars and rockets, but it was during her apprenticeship with Master Kenobi she realized, essentially, what she liked best about anything that could involve technology and engines was maintenance and improvement of what already existed.

Not that she thought evolution or discovery of new technologies was a bad thing, but society had already created so many good and useful things, there should be more people trying to take advantage of what already existed to advance.

“You could always quit,” Master Kenobi once said.

However, Rey couldn’t help but feel that she had given up so much to work for Master’s Kenobi project already. How could she admit it was a mistake now? Then losing all that she had would be for nothing.

“I could come home and open that chop shop like I always wanted,” Rey gushed.

Rey laughed at that. She missed being close to her family. She always felt like she was missing out. The truth was the choice to come home might have been an easier one if it wasn't for Poe. She missed him; maybe even more than she missed her family, but, then again, he was her family to once upon a time. She didn’t know if she could be this close to Poe all the time, and still not be able to actually be with him. She didn't think going back to being friends like in high school was an option for her either. Or, even worse, seeing him with someone else. Just the thought of him with someone else made her nauseous.

“Are my princess up there?” Rey smiled.

Rey spent the next hour sitting around the kitchen island with her father.

“Surprised you could get out of the office so early today, dad. I heard you have been busy the last couple weeks.” Rey couldn’t help but tease her father. Han smiled and put his arm around his daughter, kissing the top of her head.

“Well, I just couldn’t resist coming home early and seeing my baby girl now could I.” He answered.

Rey felt like she was on cloud nine. This is what she had been missing in Liverpool. Just as she thought she couldn’t feel happier, she heard her mother’s voice coming from down the hall.

“Han, are you home? Can you help me bring the bags from the car?” Rey turned in her chair just as her mother was coming into the kitchen and saw her.

Her mother paused on the spot.

“Rey!” was all she said as she walked closer, arms outstretched, ready to embrace her daughter.

Rey didn’t give Ben a chance to say anything more about the fact that Poe would be at their house tonight before she rushed out of the car. Ben, for his part had a pretty good inkling that she purposely waited till they were close to the dress shop before asking about Poe. He knew she was hoping that if her emotions got the best of her, she would be able to make a quick getaway. He didn’t need to see Rey’s face to know she was rattled though. He knew his sister, probably better than anyone, and it was written all over her l, and after the way Poe reacted last night, just to the mere mention of Rey’s name, he knew this weekend was going to be hard for both his sister and best friend. He couldn’t worry about that right now though, he was already running behind, and knew Poe would be waiting for him.

Poe appeared to be patiently waiting on his porch as Ben pulled into his driveway.

“You’re late,” was the only thing Poe said as he got in the passenger seat, clearly he was less patient then Ben expected him to be.

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. I stopped for coffee on my way here after I dropped Rey off, and then I got stuck in a long line. ” Ben hoped his explanation would be enough to get him off the hook. “I got you one though, black, just the way you like it.” Ben sounded like a spouse trying to garner their partners forgiveness.

“Thanks,” was Poe’s only response, taking the coffee from Ben.

“Oh brother, this should be fun." Ben muttered to himself rolling his eyes, putting the car in reverse to get them on there way.

The drive to the jewelry store was a pretty quiet one. Poe couldn’t stop thinking about how Rey had just been sitting in the very seat he was in now, just a few minutes earlier. She was in a dress shop, just a few blocks away. Rey was so close, yet felt farther away from him then she had ever been. Even more now than she did when she first left for Liverpool. Poe couldn’t help the flood of emotions that had came roaring to the surface since Ben mentioned Rey last night. He had done so well pushing them aside the past three years, but now, having her back in town, he couldn’t hide from his feelings anymore. Poe hadn’t even seen her yet, and she was already invading all his thoughts, he couldn’t think straight. He shook his head, as if the act itself could stop all the memories, all the feelings that were consuming him. Not now, he scolded himself, this weekend was about Ben, his friend was getting married, and he wasn’t going to ruin any part of it for him.

Ben leaned on the counter drumming his fingers on the ledge, impatiently waiting for the jeweler to come back with Paige’s and his rings. He looked over to where Poe stood, his arms crossed looking aimlessly around the store. Fuck it, he thought, he was going to go ahead and broach the Rey topic again. Poe couldn’t escape this time.

“So, have you thought about what you’re going to say to Rey when you see her tonight?” Ben asked him point blank.

Poe’s head snapped over to where Ben was standing, he thought Ben had gotten the hint last night, this wasn’t a topic of conversation he was interested in. “Um, how about hi…… how’s it going?” How does that sound?” Poe sounded cross, throwing his arms in air as if to say, what gives.

“Oh come on man, let’s not pretend like this isn’t going to be awkward for everyone. Rey looked like she was going to jump out of her skin when I told her you were coming over tonight. So don’t worry, you’re not the only one that’s more than a little nervous.” Ben decided perhaps just this once it wouldn’t hurt to share some intel on his sister with Poe.

Poe didn’t expect to hear that, not just because Ben usually made pretty good efforts not to tell him thing Rey and him discussed, but also because he didn’t think Rey would be all that bothered by his presence. She was the one that left him, after all. She was the one that took off for Liverpool without a second thought, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his broken heart.

Before Ben had a chance to say anything more about it the jeweler finally came back with Ben and Paige’s rings. Putting an end to the conversation once again.

Ben pulled into Poe’s driveway putting the car in park. “Here, make sure you put these someplace safe, and don’t forget them on Saturday!” Ben emphasized the seriousness of these directions by shaking the ring box in front of him as he spoke.

“Don't worry about it, what's the best men for,” Poe reassured him as he took the rings from Ben's clutches, and put them in his coat pocket.

“Well now that you mentioned it, the best man is responsible for planning the bachelor party, but since both Rey, and you, failed miserably in that regard, Paige and I went ahead and planned our own.” Ben was guilting Poe into excepting the change in plans for the evening. “So, wear something nice tonight, will yeah? We're all going out once we've mingled with the old folks long enough.” Ben added, raising his voice slightly when Poe started stepping out of the car.

Poe laughed, and nodded his head so Ben knew he heard him loud and clear. “Alright man, I’ll see you later.”

Rey came downstairs once she started to hear guest arriving. Paige had informed her that they would be going out for a co bachelor/bachelorette party after the more formal affair of bringing the two families together was over, so to make sure she dressed accordingly. Not that Rey really needed the excuse to dress up. It was common knowledge that when you know you’re going to be seeing your ex, you make sure you dress to impress, and let them know exactly what they’ve been missing. Not that Rey thought Poe might still be missing her, not like she had been missing him.

She wore her hair down in soft curls, and a form fitting little black dress she had. As she made her way through the kitchen she could hear the crowd of people gathering in the backyard. Having no idea whether Poe was out there yet or not gave Rey pause. She grabbed a glass of champagne from the counter that was out for arriving guests, took a deep breath, and headed outside. Here goes nothing she told herself.

As Rey walked through the party the tension that had been building in her shoulders started to dissipate once she had realized Poe was still absent. She headed over to the bar her mother had arranged, and ordered another drink. The champagne she had come outside with now long gone. She knew she would need some liquid courage to get through the night. She was standing at the bar waiting for her drink when suddenly her body jolted forward with a slap, someone had just slapped her ass.

Leia and Han were talking to Paige’s grandmother when Rey made her way over to them. “Rey, sweetheart, could you please run to the kitchen and grab me some club soda and a cloth? I seemed to have spilled a bit of wine on my dress." Leia asked her daughter.”

“Of course mom, no problem, I’ll be right back,” Rey replied with a smile.

Poe drove up the Solos driveway pulling his car in beside Finn's, who had just arrived himself a moment earlier. Poe stomach was doing back flips, he had been to the Solos house more times than he could count, he had even been there plenty of times since him and Rey broke up. This place was like a second home to him growing up. He remembered how his mother was sick a lot when he was young, before she passed away of cancer when he was nineteen, and The Solos took him in a lot to help his mother as much as they could. What made this time so different? He knew the answer though, this time, Rey was going to be in there, and she wasn’t his anymore.

Finn tapped on Poe’s driver side window breaking him out of the trance he was in. “You coming?" Finn asked, as if Poe should have already gotten out of his car by now.

“Yea I’ll be right there,” Poe said lifting his hand, telling Finn to go ahead without me.

Finn nodded, and headed towards the house.

Poe took a moment, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. He sucked in a deep breath blowing it out hard, “here goes nothing,” he told himself, tugging his fingers through his hair before he got of the car and made his way up the house.

#damerey #damerey fic #jedipilot #jedipilot fic #well it only toke me a whole year to get to chapter 2 #I'm really sorry #live got in the way and...#I'm here now #hope you still enjoy it #mine

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years ago

Text

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 27

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

—

Wednesday, cont’d

Hands in his pockets, Malcolm wandered his way through the house, ruminating on the letter Wally had left him. In no uncertain terms it had laid out the entire plan, his uncle’s intention behind it, and what was expected of him going forward.

He wanted to be mad- he wanted to rage and scream, to curse Wallace for his meddling, to say to hell with it all and leave, never to return. Unfortunately, the last paragraph removed the righteous cause of his anger, leaving him feeling empty, small, and ultimately sad.

At the end of it all, you are the son I never had. Watching you grow and flourish, as a father and a man, has been one of my greatest joys. Your selflessness knows no bounds, nor does your capacity for love. I recognize that my methods are unorthodox, but I trust you know my intentions are pure. You and Rose belong together in every sense of the concept, but I know your heart, your fears. She does love you, you fool, and all the world can see it – except for you. Though, if you’re reading this, you do now. I would not have gone to these lengths if you had only forgiven yourself for the past, and allowed your future to begin.

Above all else, be happy – you have a second chance at love, which not all do. Use it well. Treasure her always, and think of me from time to time.

Wallace

P.S. I expect you to name your first son ‘Wallace’, though I’ll forgive you if it’s a middle name.

Without consciously heading there, he found himself standing outside the art gallery. His great-grandfather had been an art collector, and most of his acquisitions still hung as he’d arranged, in and amongst family portraits.

I suppose we’ll have to have our portraits done as Lord and Lady, Malcolm mused, standing in the hallway with his hand on the doorknob, not quite ready to enter. He hadn’t meant to go there, but he knew Rose was inside, and had been drawn to her like a moth to the flame. I owe her an explanation for my attitude today.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, equally disappointed and relieved she wasn’t in the first room. Disappointed because he longed to be next to her always, and relieved to have a few more moments to compose himself, uncertain of what he would say or do when he found her. Crossing the room in long strides, he headed for the door that connected to the second room, finding it slightly ajar and hearing Rose’s voice from the other side.

He paused to be sure he wasn’t interrupting, heart dropping at Rose’s words.

“But that’s just it, Clar, I don’t know. He’s been so weird since we got here. I have no idea what he’s feeling. I mean, he acts like we’re… you know… in some ways, and in others, nothing’s changed except now we have sex!” She paused, and could hear the eyeroll in her sigh. “You’re my best friend and I’m in crisis. You can deal with me talking about shagging your father for one conversation. If nothing else, you owe me for everything I had to hear at uni- you were not as quiet as you thought you were.”

He could hear his daughter’s squawk from where he was, though not any words.

“Yes, I love him, but I can’t tell him,” Rose said, with the impatient air of someone tired of repeating herself, making his heart leap. “What if he doesn’t? I did make the first move! I agreed to marry him, I invited him into my bedroom under the most obvious ruse known to man- I don’t know how to make it more obvious without saying the words! He needs- I need him to say it first. I can’t. I just- I can’t.”

Heart pounding, a wide smile on his face, Malcolm backed out of the room; he’d heard all he needed to.

Now it was time to plan.

Thursday

“Rose,” he murmured, brushing her face out of her hair. “Time to wake up.”

She whimpered, turning to face into the pillow, making him laugh softly.

“Wake up, sweetheart.” Leveraging himself up he rained kisses over her hair, the only part of her accessible. “I have a surprise for you.” It had been a solid twelve hours since she said she loved him (though not to him), and he was still in awe of that fact. They loved each other, truly, and it was time for her to know as well.

“Nooooo,” she whined. “Shag later, sleep now.”

Malcolm snorted. “It’s not that, it’s a real surprise. C’mon, you’ll miss it.”

“Fuck you.”

It may have been a result of his unbridled joy and love, or maybe his lack of sleep, but he found her stubbornness in this moment absolutely adorable. “I promise it’s worth getting up for, my love,” he told her.

That got him a reaction; face turning slightly, one eye opened to peer up at him suspiciously. He just smiled in response, and after a moment, she groaned, rolled over to her back, and sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. “Do I need to change?”

“Yes, but loungewear is fine. You’re changing for temperature only,” he said, hurrying around to her side to help her out of bed. “I already laid things out for you.”

With an unimpressed expression, equal parts sleepy and mutinous, she did as he asked, pulling her nightgown over her head without any hesitation. He focused on helping her find her way through the sweatpants and hoodie; there would be time for ogling later, once she Knew. Kneeling, he guided her feet into her Uggs, before standing and offering her his hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked, a little more awake now- enough to be suspicious, apparently. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Just… trust me.”

“Fine,” she said after a moment. “But I’m gonna need tea.”

He just smiled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “I know.”

Still yawning, Rose curled around the thermos he’d brought, leaning into his side as he drove down the dark road.

They hadn’t gone too far when he turned off, on the side with the water, and parked the car.

“What’re we doing here?” She trusted him absolutely, but everything about the situation seemed right out of a true crime show episode.

Perhaps sensing her hesitation, he smiled kindly down at her. “We’re going to watch the sunrise out over the Sea.”

“The Sea?” They got out, and he held her hand, guiding her down the path to the water while carrying a picnic basket.

“North Sea- we’re only about 14 miles from the coast. By the time we get down there, the sun will be almost ready.”

She stopped walking, peering up into his face in the dark. “You’re taking me out to the North Sea to watch the sunrise.”

“Yes.” His tone shifted, coming across unsure as he asked, “Is that okay?”

Surging up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips firmly against his for a fleeting moment, grateful for the dark as her cheeks flushed. “Very much so. Now, lead on.”

The dock came into view then, a solitary light pole illuminating the area, and she gasped at seeing the boat tied up. “Is that a yacht?” For reasons unknown she’d been expecting something small, perhaps a dinky little rowboat, though in hindsight that seemed absurd to travel fifteen miles out to sea in.

“Technically it’s a ‘cabin cruiser’. Difference is in the size.”

“That’s what she said.”

He shot her an amused glance as they stepped carefully onto the dock. “This is the cleverly-named Gallifrey II. It’s a good twenty years old, but still in good condition. Jack takes her out every so often, oversees her maintenance. I promise it’s safe.”

Relatively-speaking she knew it wasn’t particularly large, but it had a little deck at the back, and appeared to have an indoor section. It looked like something she’d seen on telly, showing marinas throughout the world. It didn’t show it’s age, looking bright and clean, though if Jack was using it to romance his boyfriend, she would expect nothing less.

“Right,” Malcolm said brusquely, leaning over the side to put the basket on out of the way, “ready?”

A little nervous, but willing to trust him, she let her tongue peek out from between her teeth. “Depends. Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

He just laughed, offering her his hand.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Rose burrowed further into the woven blanket, moving the edge of it to cover her nose. It was cold, sailing out to sea in the dark. Malcolm was at the helm, steering the boat, and she’d chosen to stay with him, perched on the small seating area on top of the boat, right behind him. She could barely see him, mostly just an outline, but she still felt safe and cozy despite the temperature. Her better judgement was telling her to go down into the cabin out of the cold, but she resisted the urge, choosing instead to stay with her husband, watching the lights along the coast zip by.

Her nerves were doing their best to keep her warm though, as she wondered what this all meant. The idea of it was certainly romantic, and she was hoping for a confession of love, something to put her fears to rest and allow her heart to be free, but she was trying to temper those hopes so she wouldn’t be disappointed if she was wrong.

She wanted to be right.

“Just another minute or so,” Malcolm called behind him as the coast seemed to curve. “I want to make sure we’re out of the way, but with no view obstructions.”

“Okay,” she shouted back, unsure if he could hear her. Other boats were in the waters now, ones like theirs, fishing boats, and ferries all starting their day early as well. She could just hear shouts and calls in the distance, see people greeting each other as if they were passing on the street instead of at sea. She hadn’t been on the boat all that long, but already she could picture them taking sailing trips, exploring the world by sea, maybe with a few sleepy children pressed up against her, waiting for the sun to rise as they did now.

She liked the image.

The noise of the engine abruptly cut, dropping to almost nothing, as Malcolm made his way back to her. “Here’s as good a spot as any, I think,” he said, picking up the basket and setting it on the seat next to her. “Budge up, let me behind you.”

They shifted around, eventually settling with him in the corner, Rose snug up to his front and the blanket encircling both of them. His arms were tight around her waist, holding her close, and she felt… loved. The words were on the tip of her tongue when he inhaled sharply.

“Look.”

She followed his fingers to a spot where the darkness seemed to be lightening. Slowly the sun rose as they sipped at their tea, Rose relaxing back into his comfortable chest and strong grip. This is heaven. Those three words hovered on the tip of her tongue; so strong was the urge she said nothing lest they slip out of their own free will.

It didn’t take long for the sun to clear the horizon, bathing everything in beautiful hues of pink and orange, so spectacular it belonged on a postcard.

“What did you think?” Malcolm murmured in her ear, once the best of it was over. “Worth getting up?”

She turned so she could see him, careful to not disturb their nest of blankets too much and let the cold air in. “Oh, it was incredible. Thank you. I just- there are no words.” That was a lie; there were three, but she didn’t dare risk ruining the moment.

Malcolm smiled back, but it faded quickly as his eyes searched hers, making her heart pound in anticipation.

Say it, her heart whispered to him. Tell me, so I can tell you, and we can be happy forever. Say it. Please.

“Rose…”

Here it is!

“We need to talk.”

What?

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Human AU #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

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