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ejzah · 1 month

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A/N: Happy 5th Anniversary to Kensi and Deeks! I can’t believe five years ago we were wondering if it would ever happen. We’ve got a little bit of fluff, domestic Densi, babies, Rosa, and of course, romance.

This story ignores the fact that Sam is now in Hawaii.

***

Here’s to Five and Many More

When Rosa first met Sam Hanna and G. Callen (it would be a couple months before she heard what the G stood for thanks to Sam’s teasing), she thought they seemed nice, but fairly intimidating. She never imagined that they’d ever consider her their honorary niece, or that she’d feel comfortable to have them over for dinner.

Even more surprising was that they both accepted and didn’t seem fazed when they found out Kensi and Marty wouldn’t be in attendance.

“Have you ever considered opening your own restaurant?” Callen questioned after his first bite of chicken stew.

Rosa dipped her head at the compliment, shrugging. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it. But I think I’ll keep cooking as a hobby for now.” She shifted her weight. “And thank you for coming last minute.”

“Hey, I’ll never say no to a good meal, but something tells me that you didn’t invite us over just to sample your cooking,” Sam observed.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” Rosa admitted, brushing her hair back. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Callen paused with a pepper halfway to his mouth and Sam’s face instantly shifted into something darker.

“Who is he and what did he do?”

“Uncle Sam, it’s nothing like that,” Rosa assured him quickly before he could find some poor and unsuspecting boy. “Steven is still wonderful. It’s not something bad.”

“Ok, but if that changes, I’m a text away, and have no problem lightly abusing my power to make arrests.”

By now, Rosa was fairly used to such offers, so she took it in stride. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” Folding her hands together, she breathed in once, not sure why she felt so nervous. “So, Marty and Kensi’s fifth anniversary is coming soon and I want to plan something special for them,” she explained.

“Yeah, March 17th.” Callen nodded.

“Yes. It’s four weeks away.”

“I want to plan something special for them. It’s been a really exciting year, but also so much has changed, and I know it hasn’t all been easy,” Rosa continued. “Maybe a nice dinner out or even a couple days away. Although I don’t know if Kensi and Marty will want to leave the twins overnight.”

“Hm, it would take some planning to pull off, but it’s possible,” Sam mused.

And don’t worry, I’ve saved some money from my job. All I need is help with the actual scheduling and execution,” Rosa assured him.

“Kid, we’re not making you pay for anything,” Callen interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “Kensi and Deeks would kill us if they found out we let you spend all your money on them.”

“I can afford it,” Rosa said stubbornly, pride getting the better of her.

“But you don’t have to. That money is supposed to be for your needs. Like tuition, and books, and ice cream during finals week ,” Sam told her gently.

Rosa smiled reluctantly at the last part. “Ok. I’m chipping in though since it was my idea.”

“Always so stubborn.”

“Well, it’s a Deeks-Blye trait,” Rosa explained with a self-deprecating shrug. Then more added more earnestly. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Anytime kid.”

***

“Babe, have you seen my breast pump?” Kensi asked, rushing from their bedroom.

“Uh, it’s in the hallway bathroom,” Deeks told her without looking up from wrangling Sophia into a clean onesie. He finished and tucked her under his arm.

Kensi hurried out of the room, coming back with pump and a couple fo bottles.

“Alright, you’re all clean, how about some tummy time?” Sophia made a sighing sound at Deeks’ suggestion, palming at his nose. When he had her settled on her stomach in the middle of a blanket with some toys, he grabbed Caleb.

Roughly three months in, they’d found a rhythm to caring for the twins. It was an exhausting and completely insane rhythm, but it worked for the most part.

“Now we have two clean babies,” Deeks announced, setting Caleb next to his sister. “Which should last anywhere from ten minutes to an hour and a half.”

Kensi laughed wryly from the couch, head flopped back on the cushion as the pump whirred quietly.

“Did Rosa say if she’ll be home for dinner?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Ok, I’m going to start some chicken and broccoli. Maybe potatoes if I’m feeling ambitious,” Deeks replied. Crouching briefly, he tickled each of the twin’s tummies. “Now don’t get into any trouble while I’m out of the room.”

***

Rosa arrived shortly before six with a loaf of crusty bread and a chocolate cake in hand. Deeks accepted both, grateful to have something to round their dinner out.

“¿Cómo están mis hermosos hermanitos y hermanitas?” she asked the twins, getting down on the blanket with them. They cooed happily, Caleb lifting his head higher in excitement. “Mira lo fuerte que eres.”

“I swear Sophia almost rolled onto her side this morning,” Deeks said, responding to the one-sided conversation.

“Isn’t that really early?” Rosa asked.

“It is,” Kensi confirmed. “It’s exciting, but I’m not quite sure I’m ready for them to be mobile yet.”

“Eh, it figures given their mom’s a ninja assassin.” Deeks winked at Kensi, who rolled her eyes.

“And their dad excels at any sport that involves ice or water.”

They held each other’s gaze for several seconds, Kensi’s eyes darkening, until Rosa pointedly cleared her throat.

“Do I need to leave the room?”

“No, no we’re good. Uh, dinner will be ready in five minutes,” he said, moving back into the kitchen. Rosa followed him. “How was your day?”

“It was ok. Do you need any help?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Leaning against the counter, Rosa watched him put everything on the stovetop and begin dishing out servings.

“My literature class and ethics are always interesting. But I’m regretting taking history more every day.”

“Still unreasonably boring and complicated?” Deeks guessed.

“Yes.” She groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. “I never want to hear about 15th century kings again.”

“Ooh yeah, that’s not fun.” He winced in sympathy. “If you want any help studying, I’m always here. I might ask for payment in the form of baby-holding, but I’m always happy to help or just commiserate.”

Rosa giggled, her entire face brightening. “Thanks, Marty.”

“Any day, Rosalita. You wanna grab the last plate and bread?”

They set everything on the table while Kensi settled the twins in their car seats. Generally one of their toys kept them busy long enough for a quick dinner.

“Before we eat, I have something for both of you,” Rosa spoke up, pulling a gift out of her bag. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Oh, thank you, Rosa.” Kensi took the package, which was about dinner plate sized and based on the way her hands dipped, heavier than anticipated. She started peeling at the tape holding the paper together. Whatever it was, Deeks knew it would be creative; he’d learned very quickly that Rosa gifted from the heart and usually with her artistic side in mind.

“I know it’s not for a couple more days, but I wanted to give it to you early. I hope you like it.”

“Oh my god, this is gorgeous,” Kensi gasped as she let the wrapping paper fall away. She ran her fingers over the smooth mahogany stained wood. Across the front surface two raccoons with their noses pressed together were engraved in the very middle, set against a backdrop of trees.

“I know it might be kind of silly—”

“No, it’s perfect,” Deeks interrupted, glancing up from the gift. He held out an arm, pulling her into his side. Kensi wrapped her free arm around Rosa too. “Thanks you so much.”

“It’s really beautiful.”

“Actually, it’s not your only gift. Did you have any specific plans for your anniversary?”

“Uh, dinner here, and then falling asleep to Titanic?” Deeks suggested. He did have a gift for Kensi, but the last few months had taught them that planning for outings were best left flexible and without too much expectation.

“Why, did you have something else in mind?” Kensi asked.

Rosa folded her hands together, looking unusually timid. “Uncle Callen and Sam and I might have orchestrated a little surprise. We made reservations for you at your favorite sushi restaurant and then booked an Air BnB nearby for two days.”

“Rosa…” Kensi shook her head, and Rosa hurried to explain,

“You don’t have to stay overnight if you don’t want to be away from Caleb and Sophia that long, but I thought it would be nice for you to get away for a little bit.”

Deeks pressed his lips together, feeling the prick of tears building behind his eyes, overwhelmed by Rosa’s love for them.

“Rosa, that is so incredibly generous of you,” Kensi said, hugging her again.

“You deserve a break,” Rosa said simply, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Her excitement growing, she dove back into her backpack, and came back with a large envelope. “This has all the plans and reservations. If you do decide to go, Sam and I will take turns watching Sophia and Caleb.”

“That’s asking an awful lot of you.”

“You didn’t ask me to do anything,” she pointed out. “I’m offering, and I want to.”

“Man, we sure are lucky. Thank you,” Deeks murmured, pressing a kiss to Rosa’s forehead.

“Like you said, any time.”

***

“That was phenomenal,” Kensi sighed, dropping onto the bed in the master bedroom of their Air BnB with a graceless flop. She’d forgotten what it was like to enjoy a meal without any interruptions, to hold a conversation that didn’t involve at least one break for a diaper change or feeding. Of course she missed Caleb and Sophia, but she couldn’t deny the reprieve was nice. “But I might die.”

She looked up at Deeks, who had come in more slowly with their few bags. He grinned, tugging the first couple buttons of his shirt open. For once, he’d dressed up, choosing a deep blue shirt that matched her dress. He looked amazing, but she knew he was probably dying to get into something more casual.

“I’m saying nothing,” he said, though his smug grin pretty much said it for him.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have had that last spicy California. It was just too good.” Sighing, she rolled onto her side, patting the spot next to her, and held out her hand invitingly. “Come join me.”

“I should put our stuff away while I’m up.” He didn’t sound too certain about it though.

“You don’t always have to be so responsible,” Kensi teased. “C’mon, it’ll wait for a few minutes.”

Giving in, Deeks dropped the shirt he’d just pulled out of his suitcase, and slid onto the mattress next to her. He let out a contented groan as he sank into the thick quilt.

“Just a few minutes,” he repeated. They were both asleep in thirty seconds.

***

Kensi woke up with her nose buried in Deeks’ chest, arms loosely wrapped around her back. Untangling her arms, she stretched them above her head, her spine cracking as she arched her back. She felt better rested than she had in months.

“So much for just a few minutes,” Deeks muttered, eyes still closed.

“I think that was the best nap I’ve ever had,” Kensi said. She studied Deeks’ features, brushing back the pieces of hair that had grown more unruly in sleep. He leaned into her touch, one corner of his mouth lifting when she trailed her fingers down his cheeks and neck.

Scooting closer, Kensi pressed her lips to the warm tan skin left exposed by his open shirt. His hand tightened on her back, pulling her that much closer.

“Mm. I’m suddenly wide awake,” he drawled. Kensi pulled back enough to see his eyes were now open and slightly hazed with desire rather than sleep. He cupped the back of her neck, gently guiding her mouth to his.

They’d barely had any times to themselves, let alone the energy to consider sex since the twins were born, but suddenly the desire came back in full force.

Kensi dropped her hands to the front of his shirt, fingers scrabbling over the buttons and to tug the material free from his pants.

“Woah, and here I thought I got lucky with the nap.” Deeks gasped in between kisses.

“Oh, you’re about to get a whole lot more lucky,” Kensi promised, not caring how cheesy it sounded. She rolled Deeks onto his back, crawling up the length of his body, and then settling across his thighs. Hovering over him, she stared down at his flushed face, loving everything about him. “Happy Anniversary, baby.”

Deeks pulled her back to him, and they spent the next few hours making a very enjoyable anniversary.

#ncis la fanfiction #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #Rosa #Sam and Callen #densi twins #fluff #romance #happy fifth anniversary Kensi and Deeks #anniversary fic #ejzah fanfiction

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 2 months

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For the ask game!

11 - Share one of your favorite whumpy scenes that you have written.

13 - What is the most recent thing you have researched for use in your whumpy writing?

23 - Do you write whump for OCs or just canon characters?

Ayyy rock on these are some good ones!!! Gonna try to make this organized lmao so

11- probably one of my favorites recently is from In Poison Places, day 5 of my Style Week collection, with Knight Stan having to stitch up his beloved Elf King in the Dark Forest. I’ll put it and the other questions below the cut!

“I… I think it’s- can you check?”

Wiping the moisture from his eyes and not caring that he was probably smearing blood on his cheeks, Stan nodded, understanding. He pulled away the king’s coat, untucking his shirt to expose the pale skin beneath, something he’d done many times under different, much more pleasant circumstances.

The hole in his side was gruesome, gushing an alarming amount of blood, but the black veins of venom branching from the wound were retreating, fading. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s working, my love.”

Kyle nodded, the movement drawing a small whimper from him. “Okay. Okay. Now we just- *shsss* -need to worry about blood loss. How deep?”

Stan cringed. “Deep.”

Kyle tried to crane his head up to look, but he wasn’t exactly in the best angle, or condition, to really see it. “I need you to stitch it up, then. You know where the medical kit is.”

“WHAT?!”

“You’ve done sutures before, Stanley-“ Kyle was cut off by an involuntary groan as a fresh wave of agony hit.

“On MYSELF, Kyle! I’ve done emergency sutures on myself, with my dominant hand, ONE TIME!”

The elf’s green eyes hardened and he clenched his jaw. “I trust you, beloved,” he said softly.

With a newfound determination not to let his fear win, Stan rose to gather up their supplies, collecting their packs and weapons, making a point not to let his eyes fall on the monster’s stinking corpse. He pulled out the surgical thread and curved needle that he’d hoped they wouldn’t need but was glad they’d brought along.

“Good thing it’s pre-threaded,” he managed.

“Mhm,” Kyle hummed in agreement. “Fate must be looking out for us in some regard.”

Stan poured some water from his canteen over the wound, washing away enough of the blood to see what he was working with and wincing when Kyle sucked in a pained breath. “I’m sorry, dearest.”

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s okay. Just- please do it quickly.”

Trying to still his trembling, Stan hovered close with the needle. “It won’t be neat,” he warned. “This isn’t really a one handed job.”

“I don’t care how pretty it is, my love, as long as I don’t bleed to death before we get the kingdom the help it needs. Just do it.”

Stan ignored the way his shoulder throbbed when he positioned himself to get started. He could worry about his own hurts later. “Okay. Scream if you need to.”

Kyle did, indeed, need to, cursing and shaking, ripping at the dry grass to anchor himself with the first pass the needle made through the tender skin. As for Stan, he blinked away the tears at his beloved in such pain, attempting to steady his own tremors.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, darling, just hold on.”

Kyle hissed and whimpered with each stitch, but stayed mostly still to the end, eyes red from crying and body wracked with intermittent sobs. Stan talked him through it the whole time through sobs of his own, clumsily closing the wound with his left hand and feeling his heart clench more with every passing second.

He fumbled to cut the thread and press a folded cloth to the stitches, grimacing when he realized he’d have to somehow sit Kyle up to secure the gauze.

“I- my lord, I’m sorry, you’re going to have to sit up now.”

“Don’t you “my lord” me!” Kyle snapped, then sighed. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just… this is a lot. I’m frustrated.”

“I know, it’s alright.” Stan supported him as best he could, and they were able to bandage Kyle’s torso between the two of them. The king eased back down, his head in his knight’s lap this time, breathing hard but still wonderfully, miraculously alive.

Stan leaned down to kiss him gently. “You need rest, my dearest.”

“So do you,” Kyle choked out, spent from pain and poison. “You’re hurt too. But this isn’t the place for it.”

It really wasn’t. They needed to move. Dark things, even more sinister than the daylight creatures, came out in the night. This forest was no place for two injured people to survive when the sun went down. Stan turned his face upward, barely able to catch the red sun through the mist and thick canopy of black leaves.

“We have a little time before sunset,” he said, trying to force a buoyancy that he didn’t feel into his tone. “And if I’m right, we’ll be out of the woods in a half hour, maybe more with how slow we’ll need to walk. We’ll rest when we’re safe.”

Kyle hummed and slowly stood, using Stan’s uninjured shoulder for support. “I should’ve brought my staff,” he muttered.

The path lay before them, twisted and shadowed. With any luck, they’d stay out of trouble until they reached the end. The king was pale and visibly unsteady, and Stan was down one arm and not at full strength to fight back whatever they might come across, but they were together. They were always stronger together, and always had been. Nothing, no matter how vile, poisonous, or vicious, really stood a chance between the two of them. Stan wrapped his good arm around Kyle to hold him up and fixed his eyes ahead.

“Lean on me. I’ll keep you steady.”

Dude I loved writing this scene lmao stick of truth style on top

13- I think the most recent thing I actually researched for a fic was symptoms of hypothermia when I wrote Stay Frosty, because it occurred to me that I had NO idea what tf happens when you’re hypothermic but ya know I just enjoy putting the SP boys Through It

23- just canon characters! I’m not big on ocs in general, and when I find a whump muse they’re gonna SUFFER so they can be taken care of lmfao

Thank you so much for asking!!! I love being the Whumpshot Wizard

#very sorry to the sp boys it will happen again #south park #asks #whump #ask memes #style #my shit #ask game

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sariahsue · 3 years

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Confession

Part two of this (but can be read on its own)

It was barely 9:00 a.m. and Adrien Agreste was already sweating. After an hour of pep talking and encouragement during patrol last night, Ladybug had declared that she wasn’t ready to ask Adrien out yet, but she never would be, so why keep waiting?

And Ladybug was Marinette.

And Marinette wouldn’t stop looking at him.

He hadn’t even gotten through his first class and it was already the longest school day of his life.

(Adrien peeked over his shoulder for the eighth time, just as Marinette turned her face away again and blushed. He whipped around to the front. She was going to get suspicious if he kept doing that, but he couldn’t seem to stop.)

It had been a whole week since Chat Noir had found out Ladybug’s identity, and four days since she’d told him the name of the lucky boy who’d caught her heart. And Adrien still couldn’t believe it was him.

And now she was going to ask him out. When? That was the question floating through his mind as his teachers droned on about algebra. When? Maybe something about the Revolution in history class, but he wasn’t entirely sure. When? Science possibly?

When?

When was she going to talk to him? Today? Tomorrow? Did he smell nice? Had he misunderstood and she meant a different Adrien Agreste? Should he wait for her to approach him or start a conversation to give her an opening? He should have asked her last night! Why didn’t he ask her that?!

One advantage to peeking at her so often was that he could tell he felt more nervous than she looked, which was probably a good thing. Maybe something he said to her last night had helped. He felt scattered and on edge. Marinette’s nervousness was subtle. A tap tap tap of her pencil. The squeak of her shoe as she bounced her knee. Meanwhile, his mind was going in a hundred directions at once, wondering how she would confess.

And that thought sent anticipation swooping through his stomach.

Maybe it would have been better if he’d just told her his identity last night, make sure she knew how crazy he was about her so she could stop worrying.

But Ladybug had made it clear how much she wanted to ask Adrien, and how much effort she had already put in for him, and he didn’t want to minimize her struggle. Plus - and he felt a little guilty for it - he really wanted to hear what she would say. Wanted her to ask him. Wanted to be wanted by her.

Behind him, Marinette let out a breathy sigh. This was going to be a very, very long day.

***

A few hours later, Adrien stood at the top of school stairs, looking down at the waiting limo with its door already open for him, waiting to take him home for the weekend.

His pep talks hadn’t been enough. Even though she’d had plenty of opportunities, Marinette hadn’t asked him. His footsteps were heavy as he walked away from the school doors and waved a limp hello to his driver.

“Adrien, wait!”

He turned back so fast that the world blurred. Marinette ran toward him and then stopped a few inches in front of him, stone still, hands clenched to her sides.

His heart pounded in his mouth. “Yeah?”

“I-” That was as far as she got before her eyes fell to her feet.

“Yes?” Adrien prompted, hoping he was keeping the desperation out of his voice. He was not going to let her get out of talking now. Not if she was finally going to tell him how she really felt about him. “Was there something you wanted?”

“N-no, I don’t want anything,” she said, eyes flicking back up to his. “Just, um.” Paper rustled as she reached in her pocket and held out a small piece of notebook scrap to him. This wasn’t in any of the plans that they’d made together.

“What’s this?” He took it quickly, careful not to let their fingers brush (even though he wanted them to) because it might make her more nervous. On it was a little doodle of a cat face.

“What’s this about?” he whispered, even though he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“So I have a purr-fect idea.”

This was it. This was it! She was making puns! She was going to ask him out! This excitement and joy were expected. Every single wish he’d ever made was about to come true.

And all of it was almost overshadowed by the single revelation that his Lady trusted him this much, to take his advice on something so important to her, something that was literally keeping her up at night with worry. It wasn’t trust out of necessity. It was trusting him with her vulnerabilities. He hadn’t realized that was going to hit as hard as it did.

“Cat got your tongue?” Marinette asked.

A second cat pun? Adrien leaned against the open car door for support. It swung farther open under his weight and nearly took him off his feet.

Marinette’s face went white.

“Sorry,” he said, standing back up. (He leaned against the frame of the car this time.) He had to pull himself together and not make this harder for her than it already was. “Sun was in my--” The sun beat down on the back of his neck. “Never mind. What’s your idea?”

“Uh.” She pointed to the paper. “Flip it over?”

On the back was a hastily-drawn ice cream cone. One of the many date ideas they had discussed. That had been his favorite one. Low pressure, but still enough to get the point across that it was a date and not just hanging out. She trusted his opinion and went with his idea.

“If you’re free sometime, would you want to get ice cream with me?” Its job complete, Marinette’s mouth clicked shut. Her lips screwed up tight as she politely waited for his answer.

Adrien was having none of it.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you asking me for ice cream?”

“Oh.” Marinette folded her hands in front of her chest, eyes looking everywhere but at him. “I just, you know, thought that you might like some ice cream. Some time. And I like it too, and we know each other, so we could get some at the same time.”

“Is that the only reason? Because you thought we both liked it? Or is there something else?”

She sighed, shoulders dropping suddenly. “Listen, I really like you. A lot.”

“Yeah?” he prompted.

She finally looked at him, searching his face for any sign of impending rejection. Adrien smiled softly to let her know she wasn’t ever going to find any there.

“I think you’re great,” she said. “You’re very kind and you’re fun to be around, and I was hoping you’d want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Yes. I’d love to.”

“Wait.” Marinette took a step back. “Yes? Did you just say yes?!”

“I’m really glad you asked me,” he said. “I’ve had a huge crush on you forever.”

It was Marinette’s turn to be speechless, but she recovered enough to squeak, “How about Monday after school? Do you have time then?”

“Sundaes on Monday? That sounds great!”

Marinette beamed, beautiful and wide and just for him. She liked him! She’d asked him! She trusted him!

She trusted him.

And he couldn’t start a relationship with her when he was keeping a huge secret from her.

“I have something to tell you first though, before our first date, and then you can decide if you still want to go out with me.”

Marinette cocked her head. “Of course I will. What is it?”

Adrien took a deep breath. Would she? He’d effectively tricked her into asking him out.

The Gorilla cleared his throat. A line of cars was forming behind them.

Feeling a little like a coward, Adrien started climbing into the limo. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“But it’s Saturday. We don’t have school tomorrow. And don’t you usually have shoots and fencing?”

He leaned out of the door and grabbed her hand. It would be too much of a hint for him to kiss it, so he squeezed it instead. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you.”

***

Author’s note: There will be one more part! Update: Here it is!

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #mlb #love square #postreveal2021

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sammygvfslut · 3 years

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i like you a latte | s. kiszka

Summary: Words cannot espresso how much you mean to Sammy Kiszka.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hey besties!!! this is my first ever sam fic, and i really hope you guys enjoy it! it’s super cheesy so beware of some tooth-rotting fluff ahead. any and all feedback is appreciated <3

Loud chattering and the sounds of espresso machines hissing and whistling filled the cafe. Every few seconds or so when a new customer walked in, a soft ringing above the door rang. Glancing at the clock, you sighed as it read 7am. Way too early for your liking. You wished to be back in bed under the covers with your cat Joey snuggling. Plus, the cold weather made it even harder for you to get out of bed every morning. Damn you, winter.

“Good morning.” A voice said suddenly, startling you as you slightly jumped. “Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there for a sec.”

Turning around at the voice, your heart fluttered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “G-Good morning, Sam! Nope, didn’t scare me at all. I was just uh...focusing very hard and you caught me off guard.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, his own lips curving and flashing that beautiful grin. God, he made you melt. You took a quick chance to admire his appearance for the day, luscious brown locks pulled back into a low bun with a few stray pieces framing his face, and he wore a slightly oversized brown grandpa looking sweater. He exuded true fall energy today and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him watching a movie while sipping on hot chocolate. “Right. Focusing on what exactly? Staring at the register?”

“S-Sure. Yes, the register.” Totally not him instead. “Um, I realized it turned off right now and my mind blanked to turn it back on.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as he laughed, his touch leaving a wave of goosebumps to rise out of your skin. “You’re so cute. I’ll leave you to that then, but if you need help trying to get the register to turn back on again, let me know.” And with that, he sent you a wink and turned on his heel away to start on the customers orders.

Alright, alright. So maybe early shifts weren’t as bad as you thought thanks to your insanely charming co-worker. Sam and you had been working together for the past year, and almost instantly you started falling for him. He welcomed you with open arms and he was a great help when it came to your training. Your co-workers were nice too, but Sam took that extra step in making sure you were comfortable with what you were doing. If you made a mistake and were freaking out about it, he somehow knew the way to calm you down. He was too precious and good for this cruel world. And most of all, out of your league too.

With his dashing looks and amazing personality, you just knew there was no way he’d ever feel the same about you. Except, any time you’d voice that thought to any of your friends at work, they’d tell you you’re crazy and that he likes you too. Apparently they caught on to the signs more than you did, which wasn’t a shocker considering that you’d have no clue if a guy was interested in you unless he blatantly confessed. So, trying to figure out hints was completely pointless for you.

“Uh oh, she’s deep in thought,” one of your friends/co-workers, Danny, teased. He also happened to be Sam’s best friend, and current band mate since the pair are in a band with Sam’s older twin brothers. “I bet I can guess what, or who you were thinking about.”

“Don’t even say it,” you warned with a finger, “He’s literally four feet away from us—”

“So?” Danny rolled her eyes with his arms folded. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? Come on, it’s been almost a year now. What’s the worst that can happen if you confess?”

“He can hear me.” You stared blankly at him, shaking your head. “Absolutely not though, Danny. I will not embarrass myself from the humiliation I’d have to face from his rejection.”

Danny groaned frustratedly, placing his hands on both your shoulders and shaking them. “You’re so hopeless! Y/N, how many times do the guys and I have to tell you he likes you too!” He raised his voice a little louder than necessary which accidentally caught the attention of almost everyone in the cafe. Sam included unfortunately. Danny’s eyes widened, silently cursing under his breath. “Carry on, everyone.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Danny wasn’t lying when he mentioned about the guys agreeing that Sam likes you too. Every time you came over Josh’s apartment and Sam was there he’d find any little excuse to have his arm around you or teasing you constantly. You’d shake it off that he was just treating you like a friend would, but of course the guys would disagree with you.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Danny told you sternly, “But for now, and don’t make it obvious, but Sam’s looking at you.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he winked and stepped to the next register before greeting a new customer and taking their order.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you slowly looked over your shoulder in Sam’s direction. You saw his head quickly turn and finish off the drink in front of him. Your cheeks burned at this and tried taking deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. Didn’t work much, but as a new customer waved and told you their order, your breathing turned back to normal.

On the other end of the counter, Sam was currently freaking the hell out from what he heard a few minutes ago between you and Danny. He didn’t mean to, but he also wasn’t that far from either of you. Plus, Danny wasn’t the best at keeping his voice low. He had a strong feeling he knew you were talking about him, and for that reason alone he overflowed the cup he was pouring into and made a mess. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head.

You caught sight of this and rushed to his side, grabbing a cloth from under the sink and started wiping the sticky counter. Sam was certain his cheeks were tomato red from his embarrassment, making a complete fool of himself for not paying attention to what he was doing. More so focusing on your conversation and your damn smile from earlier. You weren’t the only one here with a crush.

“T-Thanks, Y/N.” Sam chuckled nervously, throwing the cup in the trash and tossing the drink pitcher he held in the sink. “I’m normally not this much of a dumbass.”

“I’m not too sure about that one, Kiszka.” You teased lightly with a grin. “It happens, don’t worry,” you assured. “I’m just glad it was cold tea you spilled and not steaming coffee. I’d hate for you to get a third degree burn. That happened to me once, don’t recommend it.”

“Didn’t I drive you to the hospital for that?” he asked. “I think that might’ve happened a few months ago.”

Your eyes widened at the memory. “Oh shit, you’re right. God, I’m still so sorry I had to drag you into that.”

Sam shook his head, lips curving and cheeks no longer flushed. “For the hundredth time, stop apologizing about that, Y/N. You know you can count on me for anything, so of course I didn’t mind driving you to the hospital. I remember even blasting some ABBA on the way over there so you’d have something else to focus on instead of the pain you endured.”

You smiled at the memory. “Didn’t we also go out for ice cream afterwards?”

He nodded, lightly rubbing his arm. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I mean, I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his last few words, blinking slowly. “O-Oh.”

Oh? That’s all you have to say? Nice one, Y/N.

Sam’s heart dropped. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t talking about him after all. Maybe it was Danny or one of his brothers that you had a crush on and he was mistaken about it. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole right about now. Being anywhere but here sounded splendid to him.

“Y-Y/N, I—“

“Ihavefunwhenimwithyoutoo,” you muttered all too quickly, and poor Sam barely even understood what you said. He didn’t have the chance to ask you to repeat yourself because you quickly walked away to the back and he was left with a tug at his chest, frowning.

Within the next few days after Sam’s tea spill, literally, things between you and him became...awkward. Something went off in him to become even more clumsy than normal and forget everything he’s ever known when you’re near him. He’d get flustered, stuttering a lot, messing up orders, dropping dishes, and nearly tripping all the time. He hated it so much and wished he could just muster up the courage and apologize for being such an idiot and confess his feelings to you. Even during your hangouts with the guys, Sam and you wouldn’t interact as much and honestly you were well aware you were being super childish and immature about the situation. Sam did too, and he needed to snap the fuck out of it.

The next few days at work Sam would ignore Danny’s little side comments about his immaturity and continued working in silence. For the rest of his shift he didn’t talk much to anyone other than the customers. He wanted to talk to you when he had the chance, but then he’d quickly back out and walk the opposite direction.

He couldn’t figure out why it was so futile for him to just grow a sack and tell you he likes you. He’d never gone through this struggle before. Then again, as cheesy as it sounded, the other girls he’d asked out in the past couldn’t compare to you. Never in a million years, and maybe he was too afraid that he didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.

Nearing closing that same day, it was only you, Sam, and Danny. The flow of customers died down and not many people came in towards the end of the night which you were grateful for. It finally gave you the chance to relax a bit and start cleaning things up ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to stay after. Joey and a nice warm bath were waiting for you at home.

While Sam decided on working the register and you and Danny would clean, he grabbed your arm and led you into the back.

“What are you two still doing not dating each other or talking?! It’s been way too long now, Y/N. And since it’s only us three tonight, you have no other choice. Come on, I know you can’t take this any longer, and he can’t either. I can take over the register for a bit while you and him talk.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating his offering. As incredibly thankful as you were for his help, you were also scared shitless of the possible outcome. Perhaps it was finally time though that you say fuck it and say what you needed to. You couldn’t go on for any longer to keep your feelings bottled up inside. Maybe, just maybe he might feel the same way, and by God you hoped that would be the case.

Inhaling, you nodded slowly and made your way back to where you were. Your eyes searched for Sam and saw he was busy making a drink, except there was no one else here besides you, him and Danny. It could’ve been a drink for him, so you shrugged this off and went towards the sink to start washing the dishes.

A few moments later, Sam cleared his throat from behind you. “H-Hey Y/N, so um, I know the créme brûlée latte is your favorite, and I thought I’d make you one. You seemed really stressed and busy today and I wanted to try to cheer you up. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at his generosity and your cheeks burned as you felt his gaze burning into you, his palms soaking from nervousness. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

He shrugged casually, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks tinted a light pink. “It’s okay, I wanted to. And I uh, tried my best on the art. Hope you like it.”

Raising a brow, your gaze dropped on your cup and your eyes widened as you saw what he was referring to. A small coffee cup with the words I like you a latte around it.

“It’s true,” Sam chewed on his bottom lip while running his fingers through his hair. “I really like you Y/N, and I’m so sorry for acting like such an idiot these last few days around you. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you much either.”

Setting your cup on the counter, you took a step closer to him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb softly against his soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sam. I’m sorry for not talking to you too, as well as for making a fool of myself. I tend to do that around someone I like.”

Finally, the realization dawned on Sam as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Glad we’re on the same boat.”

“I-Is it alright if I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

You giggled. “You don’t even have to ask, loverboy.” You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped his other cheek before connecting his lips with yours.

A smirk pulled at Danny’s lips as he glanced at the two of you, shaking his head. Josh and Jake owed him $20 now.

It was about damn time that Sam and you finally espresso’d your love for each other.

tagging these lovely folks bc they helped inspired me and their work is amazing <3 @godlygreta / @flowervanfleet / @dharma-divine

#sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet #sam kiszka

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cdelphiki · 3 years

Text

Bruce wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

Well, that was an absolute lie. He knew exactly what he was thinking. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to explain to Alfred and Jason what he’d been thinking, because he certainly couldn’t tell them the truth.

He’d been considering getting Jason a dog, but hadn’t anticipated doing it so soon. How did he tell the twelve-year-old he’d recently taken in that he saw a starving, skittish puppy out on the street and thought of him?

Jason was such a skittish child, and tended to take everything Bruce said or did the entirely wrong way. Sometimes, Bruce wondered if Jason were doing it on purpose.

But other times… other times he was starkly reminded of how truly awful Jason’s life had been.

Like when Jason had dropped a glass, three days prior, and immediately cut himself on the shards, trying to clean it up in his bare feet, with only his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Jason had been blubbering, tears streaming down his face, when Bruce had to physically pick him up and set him on the kitchen counter, just to get him to stop.

He’d gone so tense and rigid, Bruce just wanted a list of every person who had ever hurt Jason, who had ever caused him to think, even for a second, Bruce would beat him over a cheap four dollar glass.

Or over anything, ever.

But Bruce already knew the name of the person who had caused his reaction, and since Willis Todd was already dead, all Bruce could do was pull out the first aid kit and silently started picking the tiny pieces of glass out of his feet with the tweezers.

“Hey there,” Batman said, his voice soft and completely void of his normal gavel. The small, grey puppy was backed up into the corner of the dead end alley, his tail between his legs as he shook violently.

Batman knelt down, a few feet away from him, as far back as he could be without giving the puppy an escape route. He knew that was adding to his distress, but Bruce didn’t want to risk him getting away.

The poor thing was absolutely starved. Bruce could see his ribs, jutting out along his side, marred with scrapes and scratches and welts. The poor little thing had had it rough, and he couldn’t have been more than twelve-weeks-old.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, making himself as small as he could, trying to get down at the dogs level, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

When the puppy whimpered, instead of relax, Bruce considered just picking him up, just like he’d done with Jason. Sometimes, the only option was to force the contact and prove it would cause no harm.

But the puppy wasn’t actively hurting himself, so Bruce stayed still and quiet, as he reached into his belt for a piece of his snack jerky.

“Here,” he said, tearing off a small piece he was confident wouldn’t choke the dog and holding it out, “Come here, I know you’re hungry.”

That was another method he used with Jason quite frequently. Being patient and waiting for him to come to Bruce. It didn’t always work. Jason had yet to come to Bruce about his nightmares. Or to ask for help with his schoolwork, or training, whenever he got stuck and worked himself into frustrated tears. But Bruce could be patient as long as Jason needed.

One day, he knew, Jason would trust Bruce to never hurt him. But in the meantime, he’d keep offering, and waiting.

Just like he did with the puppy, holding out the jerky so he could smell it, and then placing it on the ground, half way between them.

Jerkily, the puppy skittered forward, trying to sniff the treat better, between his quick movements back into his corner. After doing that a few times, each time staying near the treat a little longer, he finally snapped it up and jumped back into his spot.

“See, it’s good, isn’t it?” Batman said, tearing off two more little pieces. He set one right where the first had been, and the other a few inches closer to himself, in hopes of slowly luring the dog to him.

It worked.

Slowly, but surely, the dog came closer and closer, each time lingering just a little longer near Batman, before finally Batman held out the final piece of jerky, and didn’t set it down.

Warily, the puppy inched closer to him, sniffing at the air and eyeing Bruce, like he thought it was a trap, but wanted the food more than he wanted to not be hurt.

Bruce felt a little bad, because it was a trap, in a way. But not a bad one.

When the puppy put his nose right up near Batman’s hand, he slowly brought his second hand up to place on the puppy’s head, and gently started scratching it as the puppy ate the last piece of jerky.

“That’s a good boy,” Bruce said, continuing with his scratches, getting behind the ears in a way that made the dog tilt his head, “See, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Swiftly, before the dog could bolt, Bruce scooped his now empty hand right up under the puppy, and lifted him into the air.

The dog yelped, and struggled for a second, but stilled when Bruce pulled him close and kept scratching at his head. “That’s a good boy,” he murmured again, as he stood to his feet, “No reason to be afraid.”

He trembled the entire time, but Bruce kept with his rhythmic pets, careful to avoid any spot that looked tender, and tried his best to reassure the little guy that he was perfectly safe.

Perfectly safe and about to meet the little boy Bruce knew would love him unconditionally.

Jason loved dogs, Bruce had found out, two weeks prior when they were out for a walk in one of the parks in Gotham. They passed a woman playing fetch with a golden retriever, and Jason’s face had absolutely lit up at the sight. Bruce wanted to encourage him to ask if he could pet the dog, but Jason had seemed perfectly content to watch.

“I had a yellow lab when I was a kid,” he’d said, a bright smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah?” Bruce prompted.

Jason nodded enthusiastically and said, “Yeah. Well, he was a mix, but his name was Sparky.”

“Sparky,” Bruce had repeated, “That’s a good name for a yellow dog.”

“Yeah. But he bit Dad one day, so Dad ditched him in a park.”

The nonchalance with which Jason had said that was probably what broke Bruce’s heart the most. Jason just… said it. Without emotion. With a little shrug. To him, that was just how it was. Something that couldn’t be changed, and therefore shouldn’t be dwelled upon.

Bruce was glad Jason could be mature about things, but still. It killed him that his twelve-year-old had learned to be mature about it, long before the age of twelve.

He knew the puppy in his hands wouldn’t replace Sparky, or anything close to it. But maybe it would give Jason a little more feeling of stability.

Jason seemed to think his welcome in the manor was sitting on a razor thin edge. One little misstep, and Bruce would kick him out on his rear, send him back to the street to fend for himself and fight for his keep. No matter how many times Bruce said it, Jason just could not trust his ‘I will never kick you out” statement.

Apparently Jason’s own father had ‘kicked him out’ when he was a mere eight years old. It might have just been for one night, a night Jason spent sleeping on the fire escape, but one night was enough to destroy all trust in a little boy.

Sure, Bruce had only had him for three months, but that didn’t mean Bruce was willing to part with the sweet little boy he’d come to adore.

Bruce would never, never even think about kicking Jason out. Or moving him to another home. Or anything of the sort.

Jason was his, and that was that. It didn’t matter what Jason did, that would never change.

Maybe having a puppy. Maybe giving Jason a puppy would show him how permanent he was. How could Bruce kick him out, if he had a puppy to take care of? Jason seemed quick to believe in Bruce’s kindness to others, just not to himself. Hopefully he’d trust Bruce would never kick the puppy out, and therefore couldn’t kick Jason out, because he was Jason’s puppy.

And one day, when the puppy grew larger, as large as his little paws, proportionally massive compared to the rest of him, suggested he’d be, maybe he could also offer Jason a little security, too. Bruce had no doubt the puppy would bite anyone who dared touch Jason, just as Sparky had done, all those years ago.

“It’s okay,” Bruce repeated, as he approached the Batmobile, the quaking puppy whimpering in his arms, “We’re going home. We’ll get you cleaned up and fed, does that sound good?”

Batman opened the trunk to the car, first, and with one hand dumped out one of the crates he used to organized all his supplies. He couldn’t think of a better way to transport the puppy, without someone else there to just hold him. The last thing he wanted was for the dog to crawl around the car and cause trouble while he was driving. After he lined the crate with one of the blankets he kept on hand, just in case, he gentled settled the puppy inside.

He seemed to calm, slightly, once he was set down, and when Bruce folded on edge of the blanket over his body, so only his head was exposed, he snuggled down a little more and looked far more relaxed than Bruce had seen yet. Bruce scratched the top of his head as he carried the crate up to the front, and settled him down into the footwell of the passenger side.

It must have been cozy in the box, because in the twenty minute drive back to the Manor, the puppy fell asleep, the sweet sound of little puppy snores filling up the car.

Bruce might have wanted a dog for a long time, as well, he had to admit. Just could never justify getting one, with how little time he spent at home, and how inconsistent his schedule was. Alfred, also, always balked at the idea of pets in the house, so Bruce had never explored it much.

Even now, he was a tad worried about how to care for the dog, how to ensure the puppy received the care he needed. He hadn’t intended on getting Jason a dog so quickly, so suddenly.

He’d been doing the research, reading articles and studies about dogs and their effects on child abuse victims. Trying to decide what kind of dog he’d get, how they’d get one, and how they’d share the responsibilities. Jason, Bruce thought, would be the dog’s primary owner. The one responsible for walking him and feeding him and playing with him the most. But Bruce or Alfred would have to do a lot of the heavy lifting.

Jason was just a child, after all, and he had school. He hadn’t started school yet, they were still homeschooling him in order to catch him up to where he should be, but one day he would have school. And Bruce would likely have to take the dog out multiple times. Alfred did not even know Bruce was considering a dog, so it was unlikely he’d be very thrilled or eager to do any of the work.

Alfred had been quite clear, multiple times when Dick was a boy, that there would be no filthy animals in his house…

Then, of course, there was the issue of caring for the dog’s health, which would likely fall upon Bruce’s shoulders, not Jason.

As Bruce pulled into the Batcave, he tried to set all his planning aside, and just focus on the moment. He had quite a bit he needed to do with the puppy, to ensure he could be brought up into the house.

First and foremost, removing the fleas from his fur and getting him nice and clean.

Did they even have flea treatments in the cave? They definitely had some sprays for them, but Bruce was hesitant to spray down the puppy with them. It might require a quick trip to the store, to purchase pet specific supplies.

Jason was in the cave. That was the first thing Bruce noticed, when he pulled the car to the parking spot. Because the batcomputer was on, and the computer chair spun around to reveal the tiny twelve-year-old curled up in it, looking like he’d just been startled awake.

Bruce resisted the urge to sigh as he got out of the car. Jason was supposed to be in bed. His bedtime was midnight, and he knew it. Especially with Alfred not feeling well, and taking the night off, Jason was really pushing his luck spending the night in the cave, by himself, past his bedtime. Bruce had threatened punishment if he defied the rule, and thus far just the threat of punishment had been enough to deter him from misbehavior.

All Bruce would do was ban him from TV for the next day, and he’d told Jason as much, but sometimes just the thought of being punished made Jason a little antsy and nervous. Even though the punishment itself would hardly even faze Jason, since the boy rarely watched TV anyway.

But Jason being awake could be beneficial, Bruce thought idly, as Jason slowly stood up and smiled a touch nervously at him. He kind of wanted to surprise Jason in the morning, waking him up with the puppy, but Jason could help him a lot with settling the dog.

“Hi, Bruce,” Jason said, when Bruce shut his door and looked over at him, where he was standing about ten yards away. He put his arms behind his back, and smiled a little tighter when Bruce pulled down his cowl shot him a ‘you know what you did’ look.

“Aren’t you up a little late?” he asked. It was 3am.

“I was reading case files,” Jason said, as if that were a valid excuse, “I wanted to finish all the ones related to the Riddler tonight.”

“Hrn,” Bruce grunted, “And did you?”

Even if it was frustrating, Bruce couldn’t help but be proud, every time Jason defied him. He knew testing the limits and pushing the boundaries was going to happen eventually, and probably cause Bruce to gray prematurely, but he was so damned relieved it was happening. That finally Jason was starting to test to see just how far the rules went, and if the consequences were what Bruce said they were.

All he wanted was for Jason to feel safe. He’d put up with the frustration if that was what it took.

“I’m almost done,” Jason said, a little sheepishly. Bruce’s guess was he fell asleep not longer after midnight, and hadn’t actually got anything further accomplished.

Bruce hummed as he started to round the car. Jason took half a step backward, before he seemed to catch himself, and started warring on his lip instead. When Bruce stopped at the passenger door, however, and didn’t keep walking toward Jason, he stopped.

“Come here,” Bruce said, as he opened the door, “I need your help with something.”

“What?” Jason asked, a touch curiously, as Bruce gently picked up the crate.

Despite his best effort, the puppy startled awake at the inevitable jostling. The dog stood, and tried to shake the blanket off of him, so Bruce got a good grip on the crate with one arm so he could use the other to move the blanket.

Jason skipped over, then, but froze when Bruce held the crate low enough for him to look inside.

“Is that?” he whispered, a touch of awe in his voice. Carefully, he walked the last few yards to Bruce, and lifted a hand to set on the dog. Just before he touched him, however, he looked up at Bruce and asked, “He’s not, like, radioactive or anything, is he?”

“No,” Bruce said, a smile tugging on his lips. Although radioactive dogs wasn’t something entirely out of the possibility. Not in Gotham.

He hoped he never came across radioactive dogs…

The puppy shrank back at Jason’s hand, and gave him the most pitiful little whimper Bruce had heard yet.

“Just scared and hungry,” Bruce murmured.

“Oh.” Jason slowly finished his approach, holding two fingers out right in front of the puppy’s nose, letting him sniff for a long few seconds, before he started scratching the top of his head. “Why are you scared, little guy?” he whispered, moving so he was scratching behind the dog’s ears.

The dog highly appreciated that, because he tilted his head, pressing himself into Jason’s fingers more as he shut his eyes.

Bruce couldn’t help his smile. He always knew Jason was a sweet kid, but seeing it in action might be one of Bruce’s new favorite things.

Jason looked up, and his cheeks reddened a little when he did. “Where, uh,” he stammered, “where’d you find him?”

“That dead-end alley on Broad. I didn’t see any other puppies or a mother anywhere nearby, and based on his appearance I’m fairly confident he’s a stray.”

“Aw, poor little guy,” Jason murmured, looking back down at the puppy.

The dog backed away from Jason, the best he could inside the crate, but pushed his head forward for Jason to scratch a second later.

Bruce could already tell, they were going to be best friends.

“Can you watch him while I run out and grab some supplies?” Bruce asked, once Jason had pet the dog for a minute or so, and looked completely in love already, “We need to give him a flea bath before we bring him upstairs, or Alfred will kill me.”

Jason looked up sharply, his eyes a little wide as he asked, “What am I supposed to do?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Bruce said quickly, “just keep him company and let him know he’s safe. We can put you in the locker room with the door closed, so he can’t run off.”

“Oh,” Jason said, nodding, “yeah, okay.”

“Okay,” Bruce repeated, “Here, let’s get you settled.”

He carried the crate into the locker room, and set it down on the ground, where Jason sat down right next to it. Carefully, Bruce picked the puppy up and set him down, semi close to Jason, in hopes of not scaring him too bad.

It didn’t work, because immediately the puppy backed up, his little tail between his legs and his whole head lowered, his piercing gray eyes darting between Bruce and Jason. When Bruce moved, with the intention of standing up, the puppy bolted, finding a bench up against the wall to cower under while letting out his pitiful little whimper.

“Aww,” Jason said, softly as he crawled a little closer, then laid on his stomach, “don’t be like that. We ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“I’ll grab him something to eat, first,” Bruce murmured, as he stood and walked toward the door, away from the terrified little puppy, “you might get him to come out for some food.”

Jason merely nodded, as he rested his chin on his hands and kept his attention on the puppy.

“Are you hungry, buddy,” Jason said, softly, as Bruce was leaving the room, “I bet you’re starving. The food here is way better than street food, trust me.”

Bruce tried his best to ignore the twinge in his chest, as he went upstairs.

In the kitchen, Bruce looked through the fridge in hopes of finding something for the dog. If push came to shove, he could scramble an egg. He knew he was capable of that, but he’d rather not mess up a pan and hear it from Alfred in the morning about how he wasn’t ‘allowed’ to use his own damn kitchen.

Thankfully, though, he found what remained of a rotisserie chicken Alfred had made for dinner, two nights before. The left overs hadn’t been turned into anything else, yet, so it was basically plain chicken. Absolutely perfect for a dog.

Bruce made short work of peeling off the skin and cutting up about half a cup of it, into small, puppy sized bites. He really wasn’t sure if it was too much or not enough for the little dog. He’d find a good vet to explain all that to them, within the next few days.

Or he’d spend the morning researching.

Likely both.

He brought the plastic bowl of chicken he prepared, along with another bowl and a bottle of water, down to the cave where he found Jason in basically the same position, the puppy still pressed up into the corner, deep under the bench.

“Here, you can give it to him,” Bruce said, only walking in far enough he could hand the bowls and water to Jason, “I’ll be back in half an hour, 45 minutes tops. I’m just running to the Walmart up the street.”

“Okay,” Jason said. He sat up and took the bowls and water, and sat them on the bench above the puppy, before he opened the water and poured a little into the bowl.

“Call me if you need anything,” he added, pulling a still unused burner phone from his belt and handing it over. He needed to get Jason a real phone, eventually. But for the moment, a burner phone worked fine. “You have my number memorized, correct?”

Jason rolled his eyes dramatically and rattled off Bruce’s number.

Bruce might have made Jason repeat it dozens of times, until he didn’t have to think about it and could simply recite it without hesitation. And Jason was still not over how ‘cruel’ the method of memorization was.

“Okay, good,” he said, smiling a touch, “I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason mumbled, as he turned back toward the cowering puppy and picked up the bowl of water, “here, buddy. Are you thirsty?”

Content, Bruce turned to leave, but paused when Jason called out a little urgently.

“Wait,” he said, “What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have one yet. Why don’t you start thinking about that.” Bruce had some ideas of what he’d name the puppy, but if it was going to be Jason’s dog, Jason should get to name him.

It ended up taking Bruce fifty minutes to get back home. Between having to shower and change, then actually find the pet section at the maze that was Walmart, it took way longer than he wanted. Once he was in the pet section, he got a little lost trying to round up all the things he thought they’d need to survive the night.

A crate was a good idea. A real one, meant for dogs. A bag of food, too, but then he got distracted by all the options. He had no idea there was so many kinds of dog foods, all claiming to do something different. He ended up with a bag of the stuff meant for large breed puppies, and a box of canned wet food, as well. Just to have on hand. Then he bought a jar of treats, a couple toys, the flea shampoo and some other grooming supplies, and a collar and leash.

It was way too much stuff, he felt, but not nearly enough at the same time.

Once Alfred was awake, he’d probably have a much better idea of what they needed.

In the meantime, it was good enough.

Bruce felt bad, leaving Jason alone for as long as he did, but then again Jason had spent hours in the cave already, even though he wasn’t supposed to, so it wasn’t like it’d hurt him. Especially not when he spent the whole time watching over the puppy.

When he finally made it back down to the cave, with the grooming supplies and treats, it’d been nearly an hour. Bruce would be a giant liar if he said he wasn’t anxious about having left Jason alone so long.

But when he got to the locker room door and opened it slowly, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Jason jumped, of course, when the door opened. Bruce wished the boy didn’t have such strong reflexes, sometimes, because based on how he was curled up against the wall, the blanket wrapped around himself, he had been fast asleep. Bruce would have loved to snap a picture, if only to show Alfred, because not only had Jason been asleep, but the little puppy was curled up in Jason’s arms, sleeping against his chest.

Now that Bruce had entered the room, however, the dog’s ears lowered and he sank further into Jason’s hold.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jason whispered through a yawn, as he sat up, his hands holding the dog close, “It’s just Bruce. We like Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t hide his smile as he shut the door behind him and crossed the room. “Everything okay?” he asked, as he knelt down and slowly ran his hand down the dog’s head, trying to reassure him a little.

“Yeah,” Jason said, his shoulders dropping a little, “You were right, he came right to me when I offered the food.”

“That’s good,” Bruce said, looking over at the half empty bowl of chicken, sitting up on the bench, “He only wanted half of it?”

Jason grimaced, a touch, and asked, “Remember when I first got here, I got sick cause I ate too much?”

With a nod, Bruce said, “Yes.” He remembered that clearly.

It had absolutely broke his heart to know three pancakes, a few pieces of bacon, and a scrambled egg had been enough to make Jason sick. Had been too much food.

They had to slow him down and put him on a rigid meal plan for the first couple weeks, just to get his tolerance back up. Three months later and he still was underweight, but at least he could eat a full meal and not get sick.

“I didn’t want the same thing to happen to him,” Jason said, turning his attention back down to the puppy, who looked up at him with big eyes, “so I was feeding him one piece at a time, and he started acting pretty full.” When Jason ran his hand down the dog’s back, he tried to stand up, and Bruce could see his tail twitch from under the blanket still wrapped around him. When he couldn’t stand up, he started licking at Jason’s arm, making Jason grin for a second.

“You’re a good kid,” Bruce said, setting a hand in Jason’s hair and ruffling it, a touch. A compassionate kid. Just when Bruce thought he couldn’t like Jason any more.

Jason hid his smile in the puppy’s fur.

“Come on,” Bruce said, standing back up and motioning with his head toward the bathroom, “Let’s get him a bath.”

Bruce led Jason to the large sink they mostly used for soaking things or washing things like their grapples, when necessary. But it was the perfect bathtub for a puppy, so Bruce scrubbed it down quickly, then plugged it up and filled it with a couple inches of warm water.

“Okay, set him down,” Bruce said, as he went through the various bottles of soap he’d purchased.

The puppy whined when his paws touched the water, and tried his best to stay in Jason’s arms.

“It’s okay,” Jason soothed, running his hands down the dog’s back, when he tried to climb out of the sink, “you’ll feel way better clean.”

Despite Jason’s reassurances, the puppy continued to whimper and try to escape the bath, so Bruce worked as quickly and as gently as he could, first washing him off with the regular shampoo, then with the flea shampoo, working it into his short, slightly matted fur carefully, sure to avoid his scrapes and cuts. All the while Jason kept murmuring at him and offering gentle scratches to his head, between his eyes, and his snout. The puppy’s ears remained down, and his tail tucked between his legs, but he did quit whimpering and trying to escape Bruce’s hands.

“Have you thought of a name?” Bruce asked, while he was gently pouring clean water over the puppy’s back, to rinse away the rest of the flea shampoo.

Jason merely shrugged, not even taking his eyes off the puppy, who was looking back at him pitifully.

“That’s okay,” Bruce said, “Take your time.” Bruce wouldn’t be able to name a dog on the spot, either.

Once Bruce was content the puppy was as clean as could be, he picked him up and placed him on a towel Jason spread out on the counter. Jason wrapped the towel around him, and rubbed him down, drying him off and petting him at the same time.

The puppy barked, the first not whimper sound Bruce had heard from him, when Jason flipped the towel over his face.

“What?” Jason asked, when he moved the towel, a big grin on his face, “You don’t like being blinded? How unreasonable.”

In response, the puppy barked again, and jumped up on Jason, putting his front paws on Jason’s shoulders while he started licking at Jason’s face, his tail wagging slightly behind him.

Leave it to Jason to win the puppy’s adoration in less than two hours. He’d basically done the same thing to both him and Alfred, after all.

Jason laughed, loud and clear, and tried to catch the puppy’s face with his hands and get him to stop licking at his face. “Stop it,” he said, through his laughter, “Buddy come on, that’s so gross.”

“All right, how about we take him outside first,” Bruce said, after he’d drained the sink and put away the supplies. Maybe if they took him outside first, Alfred’s introduction to the puppy wouldn't be cleaning up an accident on one of the carpets.

Alfred… Alfred would not appreciate that at all. And would likely begin demanding Bruce find a better home for him.

They’d also have to figure out where to keep him. Jason needed sleep, Bruce knew. And the puppy likely did as well. He just wasn’t sure where to do that. It was probably a terrible idea to trust the puppy in any room before they’ve had a chance to go through and make sure it was ‘puppy proof.’ And Bruce felt like all of them going to sleep was trusting the puppy alone, even if he was with one of them. Likely Jason.

Perhaps they should set up his crate, and get him acquainted to it. Establish it as a safe place that was all his.

“Hey, Bruce?” Jason asked, as they were taking the elevator up to the manor.

Bruce didn’t like taking the elevator, when not absolutely necessary. It was a good workout to climb the stairs, but Jason insisted on carrying the puppy, since he still cowered away from Bruce, and Bruce did not trust him on the stone stairs quite yet. There was no telling what would happen if they set the dog down free. Bruce had no faith he’d actually follow them, and if he did, that he’d be able to climb the stairs without falling.

And with Jason carrying the dog, he did not trust Jason on the stairs, either. Not that Bruce couldn’t easily catch him or the dog if the dog started squirming and Jason lost his balance or grip, but taking the elevator took away all the anxiety, so that was what they did.

“Yeah?” Bruce asked, when simply looking down at Jason hadn’t prompted him to continue.

Jason shifted from one foot to the other, his attention down on the puppy. He had a solid grip on the dog, with one arm under him and the other arm on top, holding him still. Not that he needed to hold the puppy still, since he had snuggled down into Jason’s arms and seemed content, just looking around at the elevator around them.

“Are, uh,” he finally started, but he paused to clear his throat, and asked a little more confidently, “Are we keeping him? Or just watching him until the shelters open?”

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the landing between the actual entrance to the house.

“Do you want to keep him?”

If Jason didn’t want to keep him, Bruce could certainly find him a loving home somewhere else, but he’d be a little shocked if, after how quickly Jason clearly has fallen for the puppy, he didn’t want him.

But Jason looked up at him, and Bruce could tell that Jason didn’t dare ask.

Another one of Jason’s little habits. Hide away the things he truly loved, play them down as ‘no big deal,’ all out of fear Bruce or Alfred would take them away from him. Why? Bruce didn’t know. And he was afraid to find out from where such a fear came.

All he and Alfred wanted was to give Jason the world. He’d spent far too much of his life without even the basic necessities. For once he deserved the things he wanted.

Bruce took a step to the side and wrapped his arm around Jason’s shoulders, trying to ignore how the puppy’s ears lowered and he tried to bury himself further into Jason’s hold. “If you want to keep him,” he said, pulling Jason to his side for a second, “We’ll keep him.”

“Really?” Jason asked, shifting in Bruce’s hold just a touch, but not pulling away, “You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t have brought him home, if I wasn’t sure,” Bruce said, squeezing Jason a little tighter, “I’m ready to keep him forever.”

“Oh,” Jason whispered, as he looked back down at his puppy. When he didn’t say anything further, Bruce led him out of the elevator and into the manor.

Getting a collar on the puppy was quite the task. Every time Bruce tried to put it on him, he pulled away and tried to run. In the end, Bruce had to hold him still while Jason put it on him, whispering his reassurances the entire time. Just based on how the puppy kept flinching away, cowering from Bruce’s hands, he would have said fuck it, and let the dog be without a collar.

But he was terrified if they let the dog outside without a leash, he’d bolt and they’d never see him again. The coyotes or foxes or something would kill him. They did not have a fence, except for around Alfred’s garden, and Bruce knew letting the dog run free within the garden would not win any points with Alfred.

Finally, though, they got the collar secure and hooked the leash to it.

“If we’re keeping him, we really ought to have a harness for him instead,” Jason said, as he tried to lead the puppy out the door. He kept pulling on the leash, trying to run off, but would stop when the leash went taught and started pulling on his neck.

“I see what you mean,” Bruce said. It probably would be much safer and more comfortable for the puppy, in a harness rather than a collar. He hadn’t even considered that, when shopping. “How about I stay up here, so he stops trying to get away from me. You can take him out.”

Jason hesitated, but leaned over and ran a hand down the puppy’s back. The little dog looked up at him, then back at Bruce, and started to follow when Jason took a step down the patio stairs, toward the yard.

When Jason paused again, and looked back at Bruce, he said, “I’ll be right here watching, okay?” Being outside, alone, was not something Jason enjoyed much, completely understandably. Doing it while it was dark out hadn’t come up, yet, but Bruce could understand him being a little nervous about it. Even if the sky was starting to light up, with the twilight of the coming sunrise in an hour or so, Bruce wouldn’t go anywhere. He’d stay right on the patio, and wait for Jason and the puppy to get back.

“Okay,” Jason said, nodding a little, as he turned to lead the puppy out into the yard to do his business.

It took some coaxing, and about fifteen minutes, but finally the puppy relieved himself, and Jason rewarded him with one of the treats he’d tucked into his pocket, from the jar Bruce purchased. They’d both taken a few, just to start in on the training.

He had a lot of research to do come morning, on training.

Once Jason finished praising him and petting him, he started to lead him back up to the patio. It wasn’t until they reached the stairs did the puppy notice him, and start to pull on the leash to get away.

It killed Bruce, just a little, to think what other large men had done to the poor dog to make him so afraid. He’d warmed right up to Jason, but even with Bruce being gentle and kind and feeding him, he was still wary.

Just like Jason could be, at times.

“It’s just Bruce, buddy,” Jason said, kneeling down and running a hand down the puppy’s back, “I know he’s big but you don’t gotta be scared of him.”

“That’s right,” Bruce said, trying not to smile warmly and embarrass Jason. He took a few steps to the top of the stairs and knelt down, holding out a treat for the puppy. “Come here, bud.”

The puppy openly warred with himself, taking half steps forward and back, as he sniffed at the air in the direction of the treat. Bruce stayed still, and waited, until finally the puppy gave in and hopped up the four stairs, so he could sniff the treat more directly and snatch it from Bruce’s fingers.

“That’s a good boy,” Bruce said, pulling another treat out and holding it out with one hand, so he could scratch behind his ears with the other.

“See,” Jason said, smiling brightly, “Bruce is nice.”

Once inside, Bruce reluctantly let Jason take the leash off, and watched with a sigh as the puppy immediately found a bench to hide under in the mud room.

It was going to be a long process.

“Why don’t you work on getting him to the kitchen,” Bruce said, as he hung the leash up on the coat rack, “I’ll go prepare him another bowl of water.”

Jason nodded, and sat down on the floor, a good ten feet away from the puppy, so Bruce let him be and left, shutting the door behind him.

In the kitchen, he did as promised and filled a shallow bowl with water, and set it on the counter for when it was needed. Then he pulled out the crate he’d bought, one that was likely going to be too small once the puppy grew. It was meant for medium sized dogs, and Bruce had a feeling the dog would be squarely in the large category. It would work for the moment, though, so he opened it and started putting it together. They could figure out a good spot for it, later. When it was time for Jason to get some sleep.

He wasn’t quite sure what the dog’s breed was. Looking at his eyes, he looked a little like a pitt bull. His nose had some pitt qualities, as well, but the rest of his body looked more like a lab to Bruce. But he was gray, a solid gray, with light gray eyes.

Honestly, Bruce didn’t know a ton about dog breeds, so that was likely another thing he’d be researching, once Jason and the puppy finally went to bed.

Alfred was going to kill him, letting Jason basically stay up all night with only a couple short naps in strange spots.

Jason finally came into the kitchen a good fifteen minutes later, the little puppy trotting along, right by Jason’s side.

He didn’t startle, much, when he saw Bruce, but instead pushed to be right between Jason’s feet, and started looking around the kitchen.

“Impressive, son. Looks like he trusts you already,” Bruce said, as he continued opening all the toys he’d purchased. There were only a few, but each of them had zip ties and cardboard to remove before they could be given to the puppy.

With a bright smile, Jason took the bowl of water and knelt down, offering the dish to the puppy who eagerly started lapping it up, his little tail wagging happily as he did.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna name him?” Jason asked, sitting next to the bowl and watching as his puppy continued drinking, “He is your dog.”

Bruce paused from where he was freeing a little hotdog toy from its packaging and looked over at Jason. But Jason wasn’t looking at him, he was still staring at the dog, almost like he was pointedly not looking at Bruce.

“No, Jason,” he said slowly, frowning at himself that he obviously hadn’t been clear enough, “He’s your puppy. I brought him home for you.”

Jason didn’t say anything, just pulled his knees up to his chest, so Bruce ventured, “Unless you don’t want a dog?”

“No,” Jason said quickly, shaking his head, “I want him.”

“Okay.”

With the hotdog freed, Bruce crossed the room and took a seat next to Jason, who didn’t look over at him still. The puppy did, however, and took a few steps to the side, but warily hopped back over to his bowl after a second, pausing every few sips of water to look at Bruce.

Jason absently placed a hand on the puppy’s head, then withdrew it, and hugged his knees a little tighter.

“Are you okay, lad?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah,” Jason said, dully, nodding a little as he did. Clearly not okay.

Jason and his moods were so unpredictable. The strangest things set him off, sometimes, and Bruce often felt like he were navigating the woods in the dark, without a flashlight, trying to talk to Jason when his moods hit.

Sometimes placing a hand on his back was welcomed, but other times, it was very not. And only set Jason off further.

So Bruce kept his hands to himself, and looked down at the stupid little hotdog in his hands.

He held it out to Jason, tapping him gently on legs with it to get his attention. It was a pretty dumb looking toy, in all honestly. A stuffed hotdog with a little smiling face on the front of the weiner. He’d known the second he saw it that Jason would get a kick out of it, so he couldn’t not buy it.

As expected, Jason smiled when he looked at the hotdog, and shifted into sitting crisscross as he took it from Bruce. “That is so cute,” he said, inspecting the whole thing, before turning his attention to the puppy, “Have you ever had a hotdog?”

The dog, of course, didn’t answer, but did look up when Jason squeezed the stuffed toy and found the squeaker inside. His little tail started wagging slowly when Jason squeaked it a few more times, then held it out for the puppy.

Clearly the dog had no idea what to do with a toy, at first. Because when Jason offered it to him, he trotted up closer and started sniffing at it rather intently.

“Bite it,” Jason said, pushing the toy at him a little more, “It’s yours buddy, you can play with it.”

It took another minute of experimenting, but the dog eventually took it from Jason, biting at it several times until he had a good grip on it. He jumped backward, and leaped around a couple times with it, as he kept working on his grip.

Finally, he seemed to be satisfied with how he was holding it, because he started shaking it aggressively, his tail wagging a mile a minute while he growled, a cute, very non-threatening little growl.

“You got it,” Jason said, grinning wide, “Good boy.”

Bruce draped one arm across Jason’s shoulders, hoping that with his upturned mood, he wouldn’t be too jumpy at the action.

He wasn’t, but he did look up at Bruce before relaxing into the arm.

“I’m glad you two are getting along already,” Bruce said, running his hand up and down Jason’s arm for a second before letting go, content to just sit there with Jason for a bit, watching the puppy fight with his new toy hotdog.

If the dog was going to be as big as Bruce imagined, it was unlikely the hotdog would survive very long.

Not if he kept playing with his toys that violently.

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, just watching the dog as he trotted around the kitchen, flinging his hotdog around and going to ‘catch’ it, just so he could shake it around again and send it flying.

Eventually, Jason shifted again, pulling away from Bruce’s arm, so he removed it with one pat to his back. He placed his hands on his own knees, while Jason started hugging his again.

Bruce didn’t bother telling Jason he was right there, ready to listen to whatever Jason had going on inside his head. If he did, Jason would roll his eyes and make some joke, or completely brush Bruce aside and try and forget about whatever it was.

So instead he waited.

The puppy bounced over to Jason after a few minutes, and set the hotdog down next to him. But when Jason reached out to pick it up, he changed his mind and quickly grabbed it, trying to pull it away before Jason could take it.

“Why this puppy?” Jason finally asked, while he taunted the dog by tugging at the toy. He acted like he was letting the puppy have it, then pulled it, pulling the entire dog with him.

The little growls he got in response were cute, though Bruce knew it wasn’t a behavior they’d be able to tolerate long. Growling at them, even while in play, probably wasn’t a good behavior to encourage in a dog.

Bruce shrugged and said, “He’s the puppy I found.” There hadn’t been anything special about him, he supposed.

Except that he’d found the dog in Crime Alley. And had been starkly reminded of Jason.

Which still was not something he was going to tell Jason.

Because Jason was not a dog, and Bruce did not think of Jason as a dog in the least bit.

Even if he had found Jason starving and alone in Crime Alley, too…

“But,” Jason said, when the puppy had ‘won’ the hotdog and carried it five feet away to keep playing with, “What if he turns out to be bad behaved and, like, pees on all the old rugs.”

Why was that even something Jason was worrying about? Of course the dog was going to pee on the rugs. He was pretty sure it was part and parcel to owning a dog. They’d be damned lucky if that was the worst thing the dog did.

“Then I guess we’ll buy some new rugs,” he said with a shrug.

“But,” Jason said, looking up at Bruce with slightly wide eyes, “what if he tears up all the sofas. And eats your shoes. And bites you. And, and—”

“Jay,” Bruce interrupted. wrapping his arm back around Jason’s shoulders. He saw the problem, now.

Willis had ditched Sparky at some park, all because he bit him. Likely protecting Jason, if Bruce’s suspicions were correct. Why would Jason believe Bruce would be any different?

Even though Bruce had been trying his hardest to be absolutely nothing like Willis Todd.

He’d rather die than be anything like that sorry excuse for a man. Jason deserved so much better than him. And while Bruce didn’t think he lived up to everything Jason deserved in a parent… he at least hoped he was better than Willis.

But Willis was Jason’s example of a father, so Bruce could not blame him for expecting Bruce to act like him.

How did one convince a little boy that unconditional love existed, when he had never experienced it before?

“He’s part of the family now,” Bruce eventually said, pulling Jason into his side when Jason didn’t shy away from his hold, “He might do things to make me upset sometimes, but that’s okay. I’ll still love him, and I’ll never hurt him or kick him out, because I’d never do that to my family. No matter what they did or how mad I got.”

Jason’s lip twitched, slightly, as he sank into Bruce’s hug. He took a moment, but finally sat up and asked, a smirk on his face, “What if I peed on the carpet?”

“Would it be on purpose?” Bruce asked, seriously. Because it did matter, even if Jason thought it was just a funny joke.

All Jason did was snicker, and say, “Yeah.”

“Well then,” he said, “You would clean it up and then we would have a very long, very serious conversation about what the hell you were thinking.” He jostled Jason a little, playfully, and offered him a smile when he looked up. “And then you would apologize to Alfred profusely”

“That’s it?” Jason asked, but he was outright grinning, so Bruce figured it was all landing the right way.

“That’s it,” Bruce confirmed, “Although Alfred might make you do a bunch of chores after.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“I think we can forgive the puppy, though, if he does it on accident while being house trained.”

“Good,” Jason said. He pulled away from Bruce’s arm, again, so Bruce let go once more, “he’s just a baby.”

“That’s right. He doesn’t know any better.”

The puppy had laid down across the kitchen, his head resting on top of the toy hotdog while he just looked at them, his eyelids drooping more and more with each blink.

It was just about bedtime for all of them.

“I,” Jason started, before Bruce could open his mouth and voice that thought, “I was thinking ‘Gable.’ For his name.”

“Gable?” Bruce said, turning the name over in his head, “From Anne of Green Gables?” He knew that had become one of Jason’s favorite books, after he’d read it his second week in the manor.

“Yeah, because he’s gray, and Anne had gray eyes.”

“Ah.” It was a good name, he thought. “I like it. It suits him.”

Jason smiled, one of his sweet, shy smiles, and held a hand out to Gable. “Come here, Gable,” he said, “are you tired?”

“Yes, I think we should take him outside one more time, and then both of you need to get some sleep.”

Gable stood, at Jason’s continued prodding, and started to walk over to them, but then the kitchen door opened and Alfred walked in, carrying an empty breakfast tray, likely so he could begin preparing breakfast for them.

“Dear heavens,” he swore, dropping the tray to the ground as Gable ran past him, right toward Jason. But when the tray hit the ground in a loud crash, he jumped, and changed trajectory toward a small table up against the wall, that had a shelf under it and about eight inches of clearance between it and the ground. Gable squeezed himself in there, and turned around so he was looking out at all of them, but was as far under the shelf as he could be.

“Gable,” Jason said, scrambling to his feet to get across the room to where Gable was cowering, “it’s okay, shhh. It’s just Alfred.”

“Sorry, Alfred,” Bruce said, as he got to his feet and picked up the tray for Alfred, “I was going to warn you.” He did feel bad for startling Alfred so hard. He, too, would be a bit startled, he hated to admit, if he saw a dog he wasn’t expecting in the kitchen at 6am.

“What in heavens is that doing in this house,” Alfred asked, directing all his ire at Bruce.

Bruce shrank back, a little, but then looked over at Jason. Jason had laid out on his stomach, the same as earlier, and was completely ignoring them while he gently spoke to Gable, offering him a treat and promising him everything was perfectly okay.

“No one here’s going to hurt you,” he was whispering, “I promise.”

“We kind of adopted a dog last night,” Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Alfred opened his mouth, like he was about to dispel a whole pile of vitriol at that, and likely demand Bruce return the puppy immediately.

He had been quite clear, on a number of occasions, that there would be no animals in his house… Or, more specifically, no filthy animals in his house, causing him more work.

But they were interrupted by a little bark, followed by some laughter.

Looking over at Jason, Bruce found him still on his stomach, but the puppy now out from his hiding place. He had one of his paws in the air, and was batting at Jason’s hair as he jumped around, Jason with his face hiding in the crook of an arm, the other hand trying to catch Gable’s paw as he giggled. “Stop, stop, you’re pulling my hair.”

Alfred visibly softened, so Bruce whispered to him, quiet enough that Jason likely couldn’t hear them, even if he were paying attention, “I found him in an alley, starving and alone.”

With a sigh, Alfred ran a hand over his face, and finally murmured back, “I suppose this is the more… traditional stray you’ve brought back.”

Jason rolled on his back, and Gable bounced over to where he was, and started climbing up onto his chest to get a better angle to lick his face, only eliciting more giggles from Jason.

“They’ll be good for each other,” Bruce whispered.

Alfred sighed one last time, and turned toward the counters, where he dug out a pan. “I hope you know I will never hear the end of this from Master Dick. The number of times he begged for a puppy.”

“I know,” Bruce said, grimacing. Dick was going to throw a fit about it, because even Bruce had told him ‘no’ about a dog. But then he’d fall immediately in love with Gable, and likely get over it.

He’d understand, too. If he took the time to listen to Bruce’s explanation of why a puppy was good for an abused, anxious kid.

“Rule number one,” Alfred said, much louder for Jason to hear, “dogs are not allowed in the kitchen or dining room.”

“Aw, Alfred,” Jason started whining, picking Gable up so he could sit up with him, “But—“

“No buts, Master Jason,” Alfred asserted, “This manor is plenty big enough, it will not harm him to ban him from these two rooms. It is simply unsanitary to have a dog slobbering all over my kitchen while I’m cooking, therefore he is not allowed under any circumstances in these rooms, please train him accordingly.”

Jason frowned, for half a second, before absolutely lighting up. “Wait,” he said, hopping to his feet, Gable struggling in his arms to be let down, “So we’re keeping him? For real, for real?”

“Jay I told you—“ Bruce started, but Jason cut him off.

“Yeah, but we all know Alfred’s the real boss around here.”

“Hey,” Bruce protested, but there was no heat behind it.

It was true.

Jason set Gable down on the ground, and watched in amusement as he ran over to his hotdog and picked it up, then pushed his way back between Jason’s feet.

“Yes,” Alfred said, clearly trying, but failing, to keep the smile off his face, “If you can take care of him, you may keep him. He is your responsibility, not mine. I expect you do do the research necessary for training puppies up into well behaved dogs.” Half way through his spiel, he turned toward Bruce and raised an eyebrow at him, so Bruce nodded right along with Jason.

“All right,” Jason cheered, kneeling down to jostle Gable’s ears, while Gable licked at his face again.

“How about you take him outside again, Jay,” Bruce said, before Jason and the puppy lost the little bout of energy they’d both found, “I want both of you to at least take a nap this morning, and he should probably go before that happens.”

“Sure,” Jason said, hopping up to his feet, “come on, Gable. Let’s go outside. You’ll like it more now that it’s lighter outside.”

“Don’t forget his leash,” Bruce called after him, as Jason skipped out of the room, Gable following close behind.

“I know,” Jason shouted back.

Alfred huffed a short laugh, as he pulled out some breakfast sausage, and got to work preparing them a breakfast.

“Thanks for that, Alf,” Bruce said, once he’d heard Jason make it into the mudroom, “I think it’s really going to help him.”

“Of course my boy,” Alfred said, smiling fondly as he placed sausage on the skillet to cook. His expression shifted, and he turned to Bruce, pointing his spatula at him, “But I was serious. I will not be cleaning pee out of my carpets, do you understand? If that dog—“

“Got it,” Bruce said, holding his hands up, “We’ll handle it, don’t worry.”

Bruce was confident in his ability to clean a rug.

And if he couldn’t, well…

He was certainly capable of hauling it away to the dump and ordering a new one online.

If that was the price he paid for giving Jason the joy he’d already experienced that morning, then Bruce was willing to pay it a hundred times over.

Because for Jason, Bruce would do anything. He deserved nothing less.

#Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #bruce is a good dad #Batman #Batfam #Robin #child abuse tw #mentions of it but ya know #basically the worst part is right there above the cut lol #this is 9700 words also #xD #cross posted to ao3 as Strays #c writes

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hewantshisbrideback · 3 years

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Jonrya AU: Other Engagements

Summary: The remaining Starks gather some time after the Long Night is won to discuss possible plans for marriages and alliances. With Jon crowned King of the Wall, ruling under Daenerys, High Queen of Westeros, discussion of who will reign by his side as queen over the north is paramount. But Jon is not the only wolf for whom a match must be made.

“Proposals," Rickon groaned and tossed back his head, auburn curls glinting. "My spear is still crusted with blood, and we're already talking of politics?"

"And how long a grace period were you expecting?" Arya snorted, shaking her head. Her dismissive words were born partially of relief.

She had been speaking with the washer women when Jon found her and pulled her away. He had lead her to a small, stony room, recently rebuilt, containing only two windows, a small side table of wood, and her siblings gathered around in a semi-circle as if for a ritual.

Her hackles had risen in an instant, but Bran had quickly laid her greatest fears to rest. There was no new tragedy to break their hearts, no new disaster to ravage their land; only the tedious intricacies of a civil society.

“A longer one,” the boy groused. Arya imagined that in his mind, there was likely no tragedy more agonizing than such tedious complexities.

“Oh? Are you inconvenienced?” She tilted her head at him. "Shall we postpone rebuilding the kingdom until the armory's polished nice and new?"

"Can we?" He asked. For a moment it was difficult for her to tell whether he was serious. Maybe the boy didn’t know himself. She cuffed him lightly over the head with a scoff just to be safe, and the grin that broke on his lips was wild.

Still, she had to admit he wasn’t exaggerating. Hardly a moon had past since the last dregs of the Others had been sighted, had been felled, and already there were talks of contracts, engagements, and promises between names she recognized only from war letters and fireside whispers.

During the blight, there had been hurried ceremonies in Great Halls, like that between Princess Val of the Free Folk and the gentle Willas Tyrell. However, there was no need for hushed vows in torch-lit gatherings anymore. What was left of the nobility, and whatever names had been gilded by the Long Winter, would want feasts, balls, parades through the streets.

Arya thought she almost preferred a quiet cloaking in the night. Perhaps that was only natural. After all, she had been present for the wedding of Val and Willas, and no better a pair had been made than they.

She recalled what a sight they’d been: the free woman’s flushed cheeks painted orange with firelight, the lord of the Reach’s nervous brown eyes pinned to his bride’s easy smile, rapt and adoring. They had danced for only a short song, but they had whispered all throughout, and had been whispering to each other ever since whenever she saw them.

The warrior princess and her lord of roses. She could count at least three songs that had been written of them since, the battles the lady fought and the bed of flowers her lord laid down for her, but none of them noted how they made each other laugh, how they sat at each other’s side like old friends.

"Bran is right,” Arya blinked from her thoughts in time to see Sansa grimace and continue, “We may have put aside our differences to face a greater threat, but that won't make for a lasting peace now that the threat is extinguished.”

"Fine," Rickon groused, then pursed his lips, surveying the room sullenly. "So, we're looking to pick up a queen already?"

Arya flinched, eyes snapping to Jon. Perhaps Rickon had been right to moan and whine. She knew her cousin would be married off eventually, now that he'd had a crown foisted onto him, but the idea of helping select his bride settled like shards of ice beneath her ribs. She cursed herself. How selfish she was. Finding a queen for the North was in the best interest of all who inhabited it, and here she was, unable to look at this as of yet faceless woman as anything but another competitor for Jon’s attention.

"A queen for the North?" Sansa contemplated, sounding as equally troubled as Arya felt. Her hopes that Sansa might object in her stead were dashed in an instant. "I suppose it bears discussing--”

"We can't," Arya blurted, panic coursing through her like lightning. Her siblings turned to stare at her. She flushed under their baffled eyes. Swallowing her shame and clearing her throat, she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms. "Well, we can't. We can't start making decisions yet. Not on our own. The dragons. They have a stake in this, too."

Jon lingered on her for a moment. She held her breath, brow cocked defiantly, but he made a noise of agreement that showed she need not have worried. "That's true. I'm heir, second to Aegon. Daenerys lets me keep my name, but she will want a say in who shares our blood all the same."

"You're right. It may be one day that the children of your union and hers are married themselves," Bran conceded. “It won't do to decide without her.”

Her sister nodded, expression poised and thoughtful. "That’s true. I suppose there should be some talk between us and her, even Aegon perhaps, before we think about who would be a suitable choice.”

The ice in Arya's chest melted, soft like relief, but colder and heavier, and she made an effort to ignore the stab of resentment at her sister’s next words.

“Jon, you can send her a message, invite her to share her thoughts. Of course, you could always visit her in person as well, if she prefers it.”

Jon's jaw ticked as he nodded, eyes flickering towards Arya, only to snap away as if it burned when she returned his gaze. For a moment, she was petrified. Had he noticed? Had he noticed how upset this talk of queens had made her?

"Alright," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "I'll draft a letter after supper."

His words were disappointing, and his tone was resigned, but it was also familiar. She felt her heart calm. It was no use to fret, over any of it. They were close, and given all that happened, it only made sense for her to be worried. She shouldn’t be afraid for him to see it.

And at least the decision itself had been delayed some, Arya thought, staring at the ceiling, even if only until Daenerys had enough time to consider the best use of her nephew.

"Great!" Rickon looked around at each of them. "That's that, then, isn't it?” Sansa tutted at him for his impatience, and Bran shook his head, and Rickon threw up his hands. “If we can’t do anything without the queen’s say-so, why stand here brooding over it now? Just wait until she tells you what to do."

“She’s not just going to tell us what to do.” Arya tried not to quibble over semantics with Rickon, as he was still learning the world of kings and courts, but she couldn’t stop herself this time. “Daenerys isn’t a tyrant. No doubt she has prospects in mind, but the choice is ultimately Jon’s.”

“Which is why it’s worth going over the options now,” Sansa added on, “to prepare ourselves for when we do make that decision.”

“And we will,” Bran intercut, "but we can afford to set it aside today. There are still some other arrangements we need to consider.”

“What arrangements?” Jon rumbled, but the stiff set to his jaw and the scowl inching onto his lips made it clear he had some idea and, evidently, disapproved already.

If Bran sensed his ire, he ignored it. “Arrangements for the rest of the Starks."

Arya blinked. She had seen the eyes of visiting nobles and their kin lingering on her brothers and her sister. Even she had received some curious glances. But somehow she’d still managed to overlook the obvious, managed to fool herself into thinking that they had more time.

“Are we really to be parted from each other so soon?” she murmured.

Bran gave her an appreciative glance tinged with grief, and in that glance she felt all those lonely years already spent apart, a splintered pack. After spending this many fighting so hard to reunite, she felt sick imagining any of her family leaving Winterfell. No wonder Jon was on edge.

“I don’t like it,” Rickon grumbled in tandem with her thoughts, and from the looks on everyone else’s faces, they weren't the only ones.

Sansa had folded in on herself, a brooding edge to her perfect mouth, but with Rickon’s complaint, she moved beside him, tucking his stray red curls behind his ear, a gesture that smacked of their late mother to a degree which hurt.

“Nevertheless,” she muttered after a moment, hand retracting and interlacing with the other, but she could not bring herself to follow through and continue the thought. No one could.

The room was still and heavy with preemptive sorrow, until Arya could bear it no longer. What would they do, sit in silence in this room until the fire dwindled and the sun set? There were meals to be had and men to appease, even just this evening, and waiting wouldn't stall the inevitable. Bran knew that. They all knew that. Sucking in a solemn, silent breath, she asked, “So then which of us is to be married first? And to who?”

Sansa opened her mouth, face wilted with regret, but Bran shook his head dismissing her, and the rest of them mirrored him. There was no need for a defense to be made.

“I’m well aware of the union between you and Sandor Clegane,” Bran assured her. “I would never ask you to break your vows. Aside from this, your first two marriages would have diminished your prospects regardless, one of which still needs to be annulled. Sansa is not an option. I mean you no offense, sister."

Sansa did not look offended. If anything, her expression spoke to some small, secret amusement. Arya was just glad that she wasn't weeping.

“No,” Bran continued, “by now, the attention of our allies has wandered to our other sister, Princess Arya.”

Arya was still beneath her brother’s cool, blue stare. She used to squirm whenever someone referred to her title aloud. By now, she’d nearly grown used to it. After all, she’d answered to far too many ill-fitting names to abandon Arya Stark for her accompanying titles, so she wasn’t left with much choice.

Now, something in her felt hollow, as though if the wind began to blow, it would whistle through her insides, and she’d be able to hum without using her mouth.

“They intend to offer their sons to Arya." Jon's words were slow and pointed and metered all the way through. “Have they no daughters for you or Rickon?”

“I did not say that they are not looking out for their daughters as well,” Bran reasoned, just as slowly and emphatic as his cousin had. “But of the three of us, Arya is the most attractive option. She cannot give them a royal title, but it’s no secret what she means to you, and the North at large, or that she’s earned the favor of Daenerys. Every wifeless heir on the continent will be interested.”

She must’ve imagined the way his fists clenched. Jon was smart. Men underestimated him, always, but he was smarter than all of them. He should've expected this, even if, somehow, she hadn’t. Of course suitors would seek a princess’s hand. It would not matter to them whether that hand was supple or calloused. Jon knew that. If he didn’t, he should’ve.

If the world had taught her anything, it had taught her that nothing staves the ambition of powerful men. Not even death. Not even ugliness.

“Good.” The word startled her, even more than her sister’s soft hand suddenly pressing to her cheek. But she smiled, albeit with closed lips, as Sansa's furrowed gaze swept over her features like she'd never seen them, like she was trying to absorb all she could for safe keeping. “You’ll have your pick of the lot.”

“Septa Mordane would be quaking to hear such talk of Arya Horseface,” Arya snorted in response, provoking a wry smile from Bran, an expression she sheepishly mirrored.

“Be serious, Arya,” Sansa huffed with a noble frown, hand falling from her face to clutch her wrist in earnest. Arya adjusted her clasp so that they held hands instead, and Sansa's thumb swept the back of her hand in search of comfort. “That silly, old nickname couldn’t be more ill-fitting. You’re quite pretty now.”

Jon made an ill-tempered rumbling noise, and Arya wanted to press him, but refrained in front of the others. He’d been reserved since he was a child, but ever since the Long Night began, he’d been downright secretive. She wouldn’t pry, at least not until she’d gotten him alone.

“It’s true," Rickon cut in, offering a rakish grin. “You should hear the free folk talk of you, sister. They say such things I’ve had to threaten to gut near half of them. They might’ve tried to steal you already, if they weren’t so frightened of Jon. And me, too, of course!”

The others stiffened, but Arya saw his assurance for what it was and spared a moment to thank the old gods for her littlest brother. Though her gratitude didn’t prevent her from rolling her eyes.

“The freefolk have a might different set of standards than the noble lords of Westeros. I can only hope that my reputation is not too far spread. It’s too much harder to see a she-wolf wed than a proper lady,” she drawled, letting go of Sansa as she paused and turned to him with a shrug. “Though I suppose in another world, a marriage with some wily freefolk warrior might've suited, and done well to unite the North.”

Rickon puffed up with pride, though on behalf of whom she had no idea.

“You can’t be serious,” Sansa huffed, then turned an admonishing glare on her brothers. “I know that you have all grown quite fond of the wildlings, having spent so much time with them, but however helpful they’ve been, there is hardly a suitable match for a lady amongst them.”

“A princess, now,” Bran reminded her, and Sansa nodded firmly.

“Suitable how?” A sneer curved on Rickon's mouth. “I’m not the one who wants to marry her off, but a free man can be good as any lord of Westeros. It wasn’t a wildling who tortured the poor girl in Arya’s stead, was it? And your good Joffrey was a prince. It seems that didn’t stop him from being vile.”

“Rickon!” Arya snapped in warning.

The youngest Stark stared her sister down, burning as remorselessly as the sun, but Sansa’s face was stone and her eyes blue flint.

“That is not what I meant,” she amended calmly. “Of course, the wildlings are no more capable of cruelty than the rest of us. That being said,” her words sharpened to points, like they were her talons, "the lords of Westeros will not stand to see one Stark sister married to a former knight and the other to a wildling. Not when order has just been settled and peace is still in question. If we marry Arya to a wildling, we spit in the faces of our Northern lords and our Southron neighbors both.”

“Aside from that, we don’t need another tie to the free folk,” Bran noted mildly. “With Tormund in our council, Val in the reach, and Jon their chosen king, their loyalty is as guaranteed as we could hope.”

Arya shrugged. “Well, as far as I've heard, if I were to be stolen, I'd hardly be in a position to refuse."

"Perhaps not, but I don't think Jon would be all too pleased to wake up and find you stolen by one of his subjects." Bran was watching Jon as if it were his sole, solemn duty. "I imagine they'd only get so far before he stole you back."

Jon flinched violently and it was a shock, how pale and harrowed he looked.

"It’s not like anyone could ever steal me away in the first place," Arya reminded him quietly, and when he looked at her, his mouth was pressed into a bitter facsimile of a smile.

“Unfortunately,” Rickon mumbled, and when Sansa and Jon simultaneously turned to glare, he merely scuffed his foot against the ground defiantly. "I mean it. At least then she could've stayed in Winterfell.”

Ridiculous boy. Arya nearly pulled him into a hug, but Bran interrupted her before she could move and his next words kept her still.

"It's not entirely out of the question,” he professed. “It’s possible she’ll find a suitor who will be able to reside in the North."

Arya felt her heart stutter. “You mean, like someone who’s not an heir?”

“No,” Sansa asserted. “If you snub the heir of one house for another’s second son, their entire territory will take it as an offense.”

“No, I was not specifically thinking along those lines,” Bran amended. “There are those with other circumstances under which you may be able to remain.” His eyes slid curiously to one of the windows as he tilted his head. "Ned Dayne, for example. We’ve received word that he intends to act in service to the Queen’s Greater Westerosi Council. You get along well, don't you?"

Jon stepped forward before she could reply, straightened to his full height. His stare was locked on her, stark and unyielding against the pallor of his cheeks, like stones atop snow dunes. "How do you know the Sword of the Morning?"

Arya felt apprehension tighten like a cord around her throat.

This had been the way since they’d reunited.

When Jon introduced her to his allies, she’d beamed like the sun. They had delighted her, despite her jealousy, for all the years she’d spent apart from him, that he’d been with them instead. The jealousy didn’t matter as much as the relief that he’d found friends. She took them as her own. She had been excited for him to do the same with hers. She had been so sure he would, it hadn’t even felt like hope. She’d just known.

But when she brought Jon to Gendry, explained who he’d been to her, he met the smith with suspicious words and a dark glare. When she told him of Hot Pie, or Lommy, or Weasel, or any of the number of sailors and whores from Braavos, he answered only with sarcasm and silence. And the Hound...

Now she’d be the first to point out that Sandor Clegane had not been her friend, or her ally, when they first travelled together. But she would also admit, begrudgingly, that he’d become something close by the time he accompanied her to the Wall with the Brotherhood. Jon had known that. Still, when Sansa brought the Hound into their home as her husband, Arya had heard the King of the Wall bellowing his objections from the other side of Winterfell.

"We travelled together, for a time," she replied carefully. Her tongue suddenly felt too big for her mouth. "Not very long.”

“When?” he prompted impatiently.

“When I was with the Brotherhood,” she confessed, “back when it was still lead by Beric Dondarrion.”

“You didn’t say anything.” In other circumstances, these words might’ve been a mere observation, or even an expression of concern, but here and now, they were an accusation.

He had mentioned the Sword of the Morning to her before in passing, but by that time, around the time poor Morgan Umber started running away whenever she waved in his direction, she had heard just about everything he had to say about her friends. So she had decided not to mention it. That would be easier.

Except now it looked like she’d been keeping secrets. She cursed the gods and all they stood for. “He wasn't the Sword of the Morning then — just a boy."

"Oh, just a boy," Rickon snorted. "Just another boy, you mean?"

Jon glowered but said nothing.

"That's right," Sansa tittered, with a sudden little smile. "You’ve collected so many. The blacksmith, the baker. Even that boy from House Umber. And now, the heir of Starfall."

"Gendry wouldn’t be a bad match either," Rickon piped up, a grin forming. Like Jon, he had been wary of the smith when Arya first introduced them, but unlike Jon, that had since changed. There was a higher degree of respect between the Free Folk and the Brotherhood than between either of them and any of the other factions. They worked together more easily, and more often, and Rickon was always with Osha and the free folk. Between this growing familiarity and Gendry's formidable reputations both as the Bull of the Brotherhood and the Arm of Stoneheart, a friendship had formed.

Her sister, on the other hand, had been entirely lukewarm when it came to the blacksmith. It was clear she saw him as beneath Arya’s station, but he was useful and she’d kept any complaints to herself, likely as recompense for Arya’s support for her and Sandor. This worked in Gendry’s favor as Sansa hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, only saying, "Who knew your habit of collecting strays would come so in handy?"

Arya's cheeks warmed. "They're not strays."

Rickon shrugged. "Not anymore, I suppose.”

"They're allies!” She insisted. “They're vital allies."

This time, Bran shrugged. "They can be both," he suggested innocently.

Arya growled and whacked his shoulder gently, turning to Jon for even a drop of support, but the only thing she found was frustration marring his brow. They were stalling again, wasting time. Arya sobered. She felt a bit like a child, finding Jon so troubled and having been so oblivious.

"Jon?” she ventured. “What are you thinking?"

He was quiet for a moment and she thought he might scold them, but instead he responded, "It's as Sansa said before. A knight is hardly a suitable match for a princess, let alone a smith."

Arya prickled at his words. True as they may be, in the political sense, the insinuation that her friends were somehow beneath her would never sit well with her. She knew that Jon was just being practical, that he had too much sense to hold a man's status against his character.

But then, he seemed to make many exceptions to sense when it came to those she cared about. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to marry Gendry, but she knew she’d prefer him to most, and she wasn’t about to let Jon discount him without objection.

"Gendry isn't just a smith.” She reminded him stiffly, fighting to remain civil as he huffed and turned away. "He leads the Brotherhood without Banners. He has earned the respect of Westeros.”

"And the smallfolk adore him. He's not just some war hero to them," Rickon added eagerly, looking to her, and she nodded him on. “He means something more. The whole Brotherhood does. They love them.”

"And he may not be a lord, by his own choice," Arya concluded, "but he is a Baratheon. That could mollify at least some of the lords."

"And would it mollify Daenerys? Or Aegon?" Jon snapped. "When it was a Baratheon who killed their family and sent them into exile in the first place? I may be their kin but I can only do so much to protect you."

"I thought that Daenerys granted immunity and legitimacy to Robert's children in exchange for recognizing Targaryen rule?" Sansa asked, hands moving to her hips. "Even Edric Baratheon has bent the knee."

"So how do you think she feels about Gendry, then, the only bastard to refuse her offer of a title and land? And the leader of a band of fools," Jon spat the word like it tasted foul on his tongue, "who reject the authority of anyone who wears a crown?"

Why Jon was suddenly spouting hostility at the Brotherhood he'd vocally appreciated during the war, Arya wasn't sure, but as much as she took issue with his slander, it wasn’t the time to bring it up. "If Daenerys does see the Brotherhood as a threat, then a marriage between us could be a means of establishing peace before a conflict breaks out...”

The look Jon gave her was that of a wounded animal with its prey cornered. She forgot what she had been about to say.

"If you think," he hissed, "that I'm going to risk your life on the premise that it might prevent disputes between that menace and the Crown, then I am going to have to disappoint you."

"And what of Edric Dayne?"

Arya could only watch as Jon turned away to face her sister, whose chin jutted out defiantly at the king. That imperious timbre sent shivers down Arya’s spine. She hadn’t heard her sister take such a lofty tone with Jon in ten years.

Jon, on the other hand, just sounded irritated. "What of him?"

"As a candidate for Arya's husband,” Sansa deadpanned, as unamused with him as he was with her. “Is something wrong with him?"

"Is this not the boy that used to traipse around with the same Brotherhood?" Jon enunciated his words as if he was speaking to someone extraordinarily slow and particularly annoying, and if his goal was to offend, then by the way Sansa bristled, he had succeeded.

"His involvement with the Brotherhood was minimal, contingent on his position as Ser Dondarrion's squire, and has already ended," she pointed out hotly. "It would have to, either way, seeing as he's not just a lord, but the heir to Starfall."

"And you think as the heir to Starfall, he and his bride will not be obligated to return to Starfall?" Jon replied just as impatiently. "He could afford to pick up the mantle of Sword of the Morning and run around the continent as a knight during the war, but do you truly think he will forfeit his responsibilities at the behest of a girl he knew when he was a squire?"

"But what if he forfeits his claim? If he intends to work for the council, he will."

"Then there is no guarantee he settles here."

“Oh,” Sansa made a cruel, ladylike sound, something like a laugh but not. "Is that all?"

The whites of Jon’s eyes had never been so visible. "Is that all?"

"Is that all, that she may have to leave? Is that your only qualm?"

"He offers her nothing!"

"He's a lord. He's an heir." Sansa lifted a finger with each point she made. "He's a war hero. He's a celebrated ally to the Martells, and to the Targaryens!"

Jon scoffed, loud, and so unlike him at all that Arya's jaw fell a little. "If a king with Targaryen blood is not enough to guarantee peace with the Targaryens, then a marriage to Edric Dayne will do no better! He offers her nothing!"

"He offers her security and kindness!" Sansa roared, calm breaking like the sea against cliffs. "He and Arya are not just familiar with each other — they're friends. Do you understand how rare and precious it is? As far as safety and happiness can go, there's no better assurance than that."

"What of our assurance?" Rickon snapped, stepping into line with his cousin, opposing Sansa. "We can offer her better than that."

"Exactly, Rickon!" Jon crowed, towering above them all even as he leaned in to emphasize his point. "Her family, in Winterfell, is better than that."

Her sister sputtered at his malice, turning to Arya, but she could only stare back, face still slack with surprise. Helpless, Sansa seethed, shaking her head at them all. "And so, what? She will never marry anyone?"

"I don't see why she has to," Rickon grumbled, but Arya barely heard him as Jon crossed over to her, took her by the shoulder, and tucked her into his side. "At least right away.”

"She doesn't," Jon agreed, gaze soft and raw, as if he’d been stripped bare and bleeding before her and didn't mind at all. What was she supposed to do? This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Time? But then he said, “She won’t.”

Sansa shrunk back as if slapped and Arya stilled under his arm. This was a voice she'd only heard him wield on the battlefield, or in court, deep as a wolf and imperious as a dragon. He had never been the king with them, not with his family, no matter how they'd fought or what over. But now, he’d raised his head to look at Sansa with narrowed eyes, and did not seem to see a cousin at all.

He continued steadily, "We have every right to keep her."

Sansa’s teeth were small and peeked out from her mouth like she wanted to run but when she met Arya's gaze, her mouth shut. She straightened her posture, her chin dipped low and humble this time. "You are a Targaryen king, but you're not her head of house. You may have a say, but the final word is Bran's."

Jon’s grip tightened and Arya winced as he positioned himself between the two sisters, almost as if to make sure Sansa wouldn’t reach out and grab her.

"Oh, did you forget?" she asked, so elegantly applying salt in the wound.

"It seems Bran has," Arya interjected. "Surely he has something to add?"

She looked to her brother, silently imploring, but he merely made a contented hum. Part of her wanted to tear her hair out, another wanted a go at his. She did not see what was so amusing about their siblings spitting and hissing at one another over her marriage prospects. Jon and Sansa were volatile enough as it is, some days managing genuine cordiality and others only just barely maintaining a facade of civility. This couldn’t help.

"Bran will do what's best for Arya," Jon spoke on his behalf, drawing her even closer, so her chest was pressed to his ribs. His heat warmed her like a furnace. "I trust him with that much. He loves his sister."

"And I don't," Sansa inhaled, eyes wide and stepping back. "That's what you mean, isn't it? Be honest with us, Jon. Arya and I have made our peace and moved past our childhood quarrels, but clearly, you haven't. You still hold them against me, don't you?"

"It's nothing like that," Arya assured her with a furrowed brow, gesturing for her cousin to corroborate. Jon didn't say a word.

Sansa looked down at her and soon deflated. "What would you know? He's an entirely different person to you.” She turned back to Jon, her voice low and scathing. “You’re making me look like a villain for suggesting she marry at all, but I’m just trying to find her someone who will be good for her before it’s too late. I will not allow her to suffer like I did.”

"No, you would just exile her from her home, to live with strangers.” There was no room for argument. There never had been. “Arya has been away from home long enough without you sending her away once more."

"Away from home, or away from you?”

She might’ve said more, she must’ve said more, and Jon must’ve said more too, but Arya couldn’t stand to hear another a word of it. What was the point of this bickering and bullshit? All the while Bran just sat there with that inscrutable certainty as his eyes trailed after Jon, and what did any of it matter?

“Enough!” she howled, pushing at his chest and ripping out of Jon’s reach.

His arm hung in the air for a moment, expression hurt, but she didn't have the time to be sorry.

"Were either of you going to ask me what I thought? Or are you two happy assuming you know what's best for me, as well as the North, and the rest of the kingdoms?" she snapped. Sansa, Jon, and even Rickon all began speaking at once, but she'd had enough of listening for an entire week. “Shut up! I’m sick of it. I’m sick of all of you.” She sneered. “What a waste of time.”

Sansa objected, and Jon tried to defend himself, but it had been, nothing but a waste of time and a strain on their throats. If this was the way things would go, she was better off being stolen by the free folk. She was half tempted to leave her window open in invitation. They might not even have to bind and carry her.

"We are not going to make these decisions in a single evening," Bran's voice raised now, cutting through the clamor like a sword through cloth. "I knew that when I brought it up. Although, I had thought we'd at least get the chance to discuss some of the prospects for Rickon and me. But that can wait for now. We have other engagements to attend to.”

"Right," she croaked. Meals and men. Meals and men. She was supposed to meet with Ser Davos and Lord Manderley. Through the window, the sky was orange. She swallowed, but her throat kept dry. "I'm already late. I have to go.”

She moved to leave, and Jon moved to follow, but Bran called out and asked him to wait as the door swung shut behind her, and that was the last she allowed herself to hear before breaking into a sprint.

@mysticalmuddle This isn’t the fic I was talking about before, but I thought you might like to be tagged anyway, seeing as you’re basically the sole reason I ever post my fics! Thank you for all your encouragement, you are amazing.

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filthfix · 3 years

Text

Anything - skz

Pairing: Reader x Ot8

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: Birthday sex, turn taking, sloppy 2-7, creampie, cum kink/cum eating/cum covering, neck biting, voyeurism, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, “good girl”, unprotected

Summary: It’s Jeongins birthday and he wants to run a train 😶

A/N: I almost named this ‘All In’... 💀 anyways uhhhh happy birthday Jeongin here’s some absolute filth <3

Four days before Jeongin’s Birthday

Chan throws himself on the couch next to Jeongin whose preoccupied with his phone.

“So.. what do you want for your birthday? I can get you anything.”

He’s being his usual playful self, nudging and pinching at Jeongin earning a light whine of acknowledgment from him. He doesn’t look up from his phone but he stopped scrolling, thinking it over quickly before lowering his phone with a soft click.

“Anything?”

“Yep, name it!”

Chan nods feeling confident.

“I wanna share with you guys”

He says it plainly and at first Chan’s confused tilting his head to the side but then raising an eyebrow when it finally clicks. They all had a brief drunken conversation some time ago about something along those lines and it quickly became an unspoken agreement that they’d make it happen eventually with Jeongin seemed the most interested in it.

“I think I can set that up.” He smirks and pats Jeongin’s leg before getting up and leaving the room.

2 days before Jeongin’s birthday

Your phone rings on your walk around town and you pull it out to see Chan’s ID take up the screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” You answer

There’s hesitation in the air before he speaks

“Are you alone by any chance?”

“Uh”

You look around before crossing a small street

“Yeah, I guess?”

It’s probably as alone as you could be in the middle of town.

“Jeongin’s birthday’s coming up and we were wondering if you could help us with something.”

“Yeah, sure, anything.”

“Uh.. you might want to hold off on saying anything until you hear what I’m asking for”

“What? You gonna ask me to steal for him or something?”

You laugh

“Well, No.. he wants to try something...”

His voice trails off

“Something?” You push

“... are you familiar with the term ‘running a train’ ”

The way he says it mimicked ripping a bandaid off and it stops you dead in your tracks.

“Huh?”

You’re completely thrown off and at first you thought you heard him wrong but he’s quick to confirm it again.

“Yeah.. you won’t have to do any real work, It’s just us all getting off together. You can lay back and relax and we’ll take good care of you.”

“Uh? All? Is this a joke?”

You notice an empty bench up ahead and move the conversation over there, dropping yourself on it haphazardly.

“It’s not.. I’m being serious” he laughs sheepishly

This isn’t something you ever thought would come up and a part of you is afraid to even think about this seriously.. but.. you are the type to want to try everything at least once. This could be your only chance for something like this and they’re probably the best option, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a bit interested. The more your mind paints a picture the more the little slut on your shoulder begs and without a second pause you agree.

“I’ll do it..”

“Really? Are you sure? If you want time to think about it let me know, I’d want you to be absolutely sure and okay with this.”

He sounds genuinely surprised

“I’m sure, I did say anything.”

Chan laughs and you have to bite you bottom lip to hold back the smile forming.

“Okay..” you can practically hear his smile “I’ll text you later about it.”

With that he hangs up and you let out the breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You throw your head back and bring your hands up, brushing them over your hair. You feel dumbfounded and oddly excited with a million questions running through your mind. Was this a bad idea? Are you going to regret it? The relationship you have with them will definitely change.. without a doubt. They could of asked anyone else too? But why you? Are you even ready? All eight of them??????

The realization of what you’ve just done and are about to do hits you hard and you decide to abandon your original plans for the day and go back home to process this. You huff and jump off the bench, turning quick on your heels in the direction of your house.

Jeongin’s Birthday

Your minds been foggy for the last two days, a lot of alone time and a lot of texting Chan. He’d given you the details of how the night would go and washed away any worries you might of had. He even shared how they all (mainly the younger ones) argued over who was going after who which made you laugh and feel a lot more lighthearted towards the whole thing.

You threw on your favorite underwear set and some comfy clothes right over it. Since it’ll just be tossed to the side you don’t bother thinking too much on it and just check over yourself one last time in the mirror before you’re out the door to their place.

Reminding yourself that

It’s for Jeongins birthday

Once you’re there, Chan’s the one to let you in greeting you with a warm hug. Behind him is Jisung and Hyunjin focused on a quiet conversation between themselves that they break only for a second to throw a wave your way. Chan points between the two, chuckling.

“They’re still not over the order.”

You smile and shake your head at their usual behavior. Chan then puts a hand on the small of your back and ushers you past them to one of the rooms. You’d been over plenty of times before so you’re familiar with the set up and feel pretty calm despite the promise of getting railed but multiple men tonight.

In the room you’re greeted by the rest of them all scattered around and hanging out like they normally do. Jeongin’s seated near a desk and he’s the first one you approach and pull into a hug.

“Happy 20th Birthday.” you coo in his ear

He thanks you with a giggle and tightens the hug. As you pull away your scent lingers and he realizes just how fond he is of you. His face is red and warm but you don’t notice since your attentions drawn to the door, Hyunjin and Jisung finally join the room looking content.

“We’ve decided”

“Okay then..” Chan gives a patronizing snort and then turns towards you with a warm smile

“Whenever you’re ready”

It all seemed to go by so fast from that

He waves to the bed, Felix and Changbin who had been laying on it get up and your feet automatically move towards it feeling all their eyes follow you. You crawl onto the bed and sit on your knees facing them. Chan said all you had to do to tell them you were ready was to get undressed. Your hands held the bottom of your shirt about to lift it. Tentatively, you give one last glance around the room before slipping off each and every item you had on and letting them fall to the floor next to the bed.

Once that last piece is off you hear a sharp inhale from Minho whose hooded eyes rake over your body. You feel awkward at first but having all their eyes on you, bare and waiting for them, satisfies some weird fantasy you weren’t aware of just yet.

Chans the first to make a move towards you, lightly pushing you to lean back on the bed. He hovers over you, one of his hands resting next to your head and the other grabbing your hand and snaking it under his shirt tracing them along his abs. His eyes are locked on yours and when your arousal becoming noticeable he backs up and strips off his clothes to his boxers.

Your eyes glaze over when you take in his body and the growing print on him. He watches you with a hungry expression and settles in between your legs. He licks his thumb and softly presses it to your clit earnings a low moan from you. He rubs slow circles until the confines of his boxers become unbearable and your mewls intensify.

He grabs at his waistband and frees himself in one move. With a few slow strokes down the length of his cock he’s lining himself up with you. You feel him against your folds warm and throbbing and you eagerly move towards him, shuddering when he slips all the way in.

“A-ahh” he gasps

He starts a steady pace, hands gripping at your thighs. Your expressions urge him on and he picks up the pace craving more of your body. You could already feel yourself ready to cum but hold back to enjoy the straight bliss as he slides against your walls. You squeeze around him and he groans in response dropping his hands from your thighs and letting them fall on either sides of your head, this position letting him reach deeper. He mutters endless praises of how glad he is that you said yes and how he wanted this just as much.

The stutter of his hips before he pulls out and cums right over your pussy is what sends you off the edge. You cover your face as each wave hits over and over. Sneaking a peak to the side through blurry eyes you watch Chan put himself away and breathlessly join the others on the wall. Each looking lust blown, hungry, and ready to pounce. You noticed a few palming themselves and shifting in their spots before you attention was stolen by Changbin.

He’s aggressive straight away biting at your exposed neck. You yelp once and then twice when you feel his fingers graze your still sensitive clit. He’s moving between your folds collecting your slickness and Chan’s cum. When he pulls away to coat his cock with it you look at him. He didn’t bother to undress all the way, just enough to let his frustration free. He lifts up his muscle tee slightly letting you catch a glimpse of his abs before he fills you up. He’s thicker than Chan and you feel every bit of the stretch.

“Go ahead make eye contact with them”

He growls, giving a cocky smirk and starting up at a rapid speed. Your head falling to the side involuntary and you catch a glimpse of all of them. You notice Jeongin first, still seated at the desk, bouncing his leg and gripping at his seat a little too tight. His face is fully red and you can hear slight pants coming from him.

When Changbin gives a particularly harsh stroke your attention shifts to Jisung seated on the floor next to the desk. He’s long discarded his clothes and has been jerking away at himself. You catch him stop abruptly and throw his head back, eyebrows furrowed and dick twitching as he clearly tries to hold himself back. Your highs already at its brink again when you lock eyes with Minho whose eyes are filled with the same devilish glare as before.

“Cum” he mouths and you do, probably the hardest you ever came but Changbin doesn’t let up. His hips rocking back and forth harder and harder. Your uncontrollable and overstimulated moans filling the room.

“Look at me”

He demands and you do as he says through now teary eyes. His eyes were as menacing as his strokes were and he give you two last deep pumps before spilling every drop in you.

“Good girl”

He backs out and with satisfaction watches your legs starting to shake. Hyunjin with his bottom lip between his teeth tags in next. He’s shirtless and his pants are tight. He immediately has his hands on your body sensually rubbing up and down your waist. You brace yourself thinking he’d immediately get to it and be just as aggressive but instead he chooses a softer approach.

“Are you feeling good?”

His silky voice asks as his hands stops just about your thighs giving you a light squeeze. You dazedly nod and he smiles.

“You’re doing so well for us.”

You only hum as he takes in your fucked out expression. He’s as playful as ever kneading at your thigh with one hand and unbuckling his self with the other. Once free he taps and slides against your hole collecting the cum leaking out of you and getting ready to push it back in.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“P-please” you purr and he easily glides in.

He’s longer but definitely thinner than the last two and choses a slower more rhythmic pace with you, which was nice and needed following Changbins aggressive assault. He slow fucks the cum into you savoring every pulse and grip of your walls over him. It takes a second for you to cum again this time in small bursts and Hyunjin exhales in approval, taking a small break after you ride your high all the way through to whisper praises and grip at your body.

When you move your hips down to signal him to keep going he meets it with a snap drawing moans from both of you simultaneously. This round his thrusts are more heated and feverish. You’re caught up in watching the way Hyunjins hair falls into his face to notice Jisung approach. Stroking himself over your chest.

“Mmm, wait for me.”

Hyunjin murmurs and Jisung just nods. You’re curious but your second high from him approaches too closely to get to question it. The coil threatens to snap and right as you’re about to let it Hyunjin pulls out prompting a whimper in protest. He strokes himself over you nodding at Jisung before painting your pussy in his hot seed. Jisung follows shortly after shuddering and spilling right over your chest.

Jisung then eagerly trades with Hyunjin his eyes glued to your cum covered body. He quickly aligns himself and slips in with a high whine. He falls on his hands and relentlessly thrusts into you fucking you like a rabid rabbit, the curve of him hitting all the right spots. He watches you bounce and moan under him with his bottom lip tightly bitten. The snugness of you and his already sensitive dick has him struggling to stay up and he doesn’t know how much longer he has before he busts again.

Luckily for you, he’s finishing off exactly where Hyunjin left off and you cum instantly squeezing around Jisung and milking him of his second orgasm in the process. Jisung practically falls to his knees and it takes every last bit of strength to pull away from you. At this point you’ve already lost count of how many times you’ve came and you’re just barely done with them. You start to relax into the bed breathing heavy and feeling fully spent when Minho comes up and taps on your thigh.

“Hopefully you’re not too tired to play with me”

He chuckles and passes a finger against your clit making you jolt. He collects the cum from you, bringing it up to his lips and licking it clean before closing your legs and roughly moving them to the side. He’s familiar with this kind of game and loves when they’re already this far gone when he gets to them. Easier to mold and easier to break. You’re clenching around nothing as he unbuckles and lines himself up.

He pushes in all the way feeling pure ecstasy as you cry out. He hastily picks up the pace while pressing your thighs down together making you even tighter on him. You could feel him at the pit of your stomach making the joke of getting your guts rearranged seem all too real now.

This is overkill

Invades your mind when another orgasm hits you leaving your vision white. Minho takes this as his que to hit harder and quicker until your mouth is full of his name. It felt like hours of him relentlessly pounding into your overly sensitive cunt before he nuts in you with a grunt.

You feel so full and unable to move, molded into a true fuck doll for them at this point. Minho pulls out cleaning off his dick and uses you as a towel then leaves you without saying anything else. He pats Felix on the back before pushing him towards you. Felix looks star struck and you’re now needier than ever. Making it obvious by spreading your legs for him and rubbing at yourself with one hand, the other messing with the cum on your chest.

He whispers something inaudible and yanks off his clothes. Grabbing you by the waist to push you further up the bed so he could climb in right after. He’s clumsy and slips trying to find your hole and you have to guide him in.

His strokes are sloppy right away, either overly excited or new to this and it was barely hitting the right spots. You decide to help him out and grind back against him meeting each stroke. He stills automatically letting you take over, his face bright red and focused on where you and him meet. You move faster and mutter his name until you hit your peak.

“Y/N,” he gasps “C-can I cum on your face?”

Cloudy minded but still surprised by his dirty request you nod and he quickly moves to your side. His hands move fast up and down the length of his dick right over your face. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue bracing yourself for your reward. A slew of curse words leave his mouth before your face gets warm with his spunk.

You wipe the bit that covered your eyes so you could see again and popped that on your tongue keeping eye contact with Felix as you swallow, noticing the way he practically melts from it.

Begrudgingly, Felix gets up and Seungmin, whose been quiet this whole time, joins in his usual bright smile on his face.

“Poor baby,” He mocks “Tired, huh?”

You’re too incoherent to respond and he’s well aware of that. He laughs and massages your legs making sure you’re okay.

“Please” you beg

“What was that?”

All you could do is point at the tent in his pants and his eyebrows raise. He shrugs and starts to undress. He’s not one to hold back after all.

“You sure you can take this?”

He doesn’t even let you answer just buries his cock in you and waits. You grow frustrated thinking you were finally gonna get what you wanted just to be teased instead. You take matters into your own hand again and lift yourself up then slide back down onto him throwing your head back when he hits the spot. Seungmin shakes his head and lands a hand on your hip gripping you so you can’t move again.

He hums in an almost condescending way.

“Still needy? Or have you been fucked so dumb that this all you know now?”

He tilts his head as you whimper under him. All you seem to be able to do is pant in protest. You feel him twitch inside of you and your eyes squeeze shut at the slight friction from it.

“Can’t even answer.. tsk I think it’s obvious which one you are.”

He finally gives in and moves, slow and meticulously.

“You’re doing so well”

He pants

“And I thought I’d give you a second to catch your breath”

His thrusts get sharper and leave you gasping

“But if it’s not what you want...”

He speeds up

“..who am I to deny”

His fingers snake over to your clit and rubbing rough circles into it in time with the motion of his hips.

“So good”

Just like that you unravel with a loud groan

“Dummy.. couldn’t even wait for me?”

He laughs and pulls out a little too quickly leaving you with an feeling empty. He jerks off over your body drinking in the way you lay like a broken toy. It doesn’t take long for him to finish across your thighs and you thank him relentlessly.

He shakes his head

“No, no, baby”

“Thank you for letting us use your body like this”

In a blink, he’s gone and in his place was Jeongin with his pretty dick in hand.

“I wanna fuck their cum into you”

“So badly”

His voice is dripping in desire. He presses his red and angry tip to your folds collecting the cum and coating himself with as much of it as he can. Once he’s pleased he asks for the okay which you give him without hesitation. He bottoms out instantly digging his nails into your body at the same time. The urge to bust right then and there washes over him but he’s waited too long to be out already. He holds back for a few seconds till he adjusts before rutting into you. You hadn’t expected the level of precision that came from him and cry out as he fucks you raw.

“Hyunjin”

Jeongin chokes out

“Kiss”

He nods at you and Hyunjin without a second of doubt complies lightly shuffling over to where you lay. He leans over kissing you softly on the lips you lean in deepening it. When he pulls away you notice traces of cum left on his lips and he licks it away before winking at you and stepping back.

It takes a few more drags of his dick across you velvet walls for you both to cry out in one last orgasm. You could feel tears fall from your eyes and Jeongin’s quick to wipe them away. He then sits back on his knees with a sigh his now flaccid dick slipping out. He then topples over beside you followed by almost all of them who then coddle and whispering praises at you.

Seungmin whose reaching for the door laughs.

“I’ll go grab a wash rag”

“And you know.. if you ever wanna do this again I, at least, wouldn't mind.” Jisung quips with a wink as he trails behind Seungmin with snacks in mind. You’re about ready to pass out but manage to laugh and shake your head over the hyper every day every situation demeanor Jisung carried.

#personal #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #felix smut #hyunjin smut #jisung smut #lee know smut #minho smut #changbin smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mlist

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micahscowgirl · 3 years

Text

Bite Me ~ Chapter 6

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (finally), cussing, biting kink (w/blood)

Word Count: 2550

Wow. This just happened.

Chapter 6

“What’s taking you so damn long?”

“Quit yappin’,” you sternly bite back at Micah through the curtain. “I’m not even done trying everything on”

Micah has brought you to the tailor shop in Valentine to pick out some new clothes. You have a small pile of garments sitting on the bench and floor next to you. You wouldn’t admit to Micah, but you have already tried everything on, but are debating between a few options.

After trying on a very different combinations of tops and pants, you finally settled on a grey, long-sleeved button up, a leather jacket, and black riding pants. You pull the curtain back and do a quick little model for Micah, fully aware of the flattering fit of the pants.

“So, what do you think?”

“My, my,” He starts, “who’re you trying to impress, doll?”

You shoot him a quick glance before returning to collect the clothes you didn’t want. “A lady’s got to make herself presentable, don’t you agree?”

When you turn your head towards him again, you notice him biting his bottom lip while admiring you. His hat was tilted in front of his eyes, so he didn’t realize you caught him. The sight gave you butterflies and you felt yourself throb slightly. You quickly push any thoughts that might have been making their way into your head away.

“So, uh, what do you normally do whenever the camp moves without you?” you try to make conversation.

“Well, it’s definitely not as simple as asking around. Hey Mister!” He begins to mock towards an imaginary man. “Can I bother you with a question? You see, I’ve lost my crew, most of whom have a huge criminal bounty, you wouldn’t happen to know where they headed off to, do ya now?”

This puts a grin on your face, “Well, well, Mister Bell, I never would’ve pegged you for the comedic type.”

He smiles, “Well, doll, I don’t show that side to many people.” When he makes eye contact with you, he turns away and clears his throat, “Ahem, anyway we should, uh, probably be off now.”

He pays the shopkeeper for your clothes, and walks out of the shop, leaving you to finish folding the clothes. You know you should be upset, but you’re not. You can’t help but feel sorry for him.

I wonder why he conceals himself so much. And what makes me different from everyone else?

~~~~~~

Micah had tracked the wagon trail tp the train tracks before turning towards town that morning, so that’s where you returned to. It was a silent ride, so all you had were your thoughts. No matter how many times you tried not to, you couldn’t stop thinking of the way he looked at you in the shop. What was he thinking about? Was he simply admiring you? Or was he imagining all the things he would do to you, given the chance?

“You ain’t falling asleep back there, are you?” He startles you out of your thoughts. Without realizing it, you had slowly started to lean onto his back, like you had slept the night before.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I was just, uh, lost in thought.” you stutter, trying to not make anything obvious.

“Oh? What were you thinking about, doll?”

Oh my God, does he know? He couldn’t know, right? Or--

“Micah? Is that you?” someone calls from up ahead.

“Yeah, me and Y/N.”

Bill steps from behind a tree, “Camp’s right up ahead.” he says to Micah. As y’all pass him, he nods to you. “Glad you made it back safe.” After some distance is made, Micah scoffs.

“Figures.” He says.

“What?”

“They’re only glad you made it back.”

Without knowing what to say, the trot towards the camp is a silent one.

Once you arrive at camp, you begin to notice the same reaction from everyone.

“Y/N, you made it!” Arthur walks up to the horse. Micah hops off, and knowing you’re still sore from the night before turns to help you, but not before Arthur beats him to it. “Dutch was so worried about you after he sent you off to Strawberry.” You accept his help and Micah turns and walks away stubbornly off into the trees.

“I ran into some trouble up that way, thankfully Micah was there to save me,” you say, giving him the credit. Even so, it was brushed away.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” Mary-Beth chimes in, taking you by the arm and pulling you away. “Charles and Hosea said they’d hitch your tent if you made it back today.” You turn your head and get one more glimpse of Micah before he is erased by the trees. I wouldn’t be back if it wasn’t for him.

~~~~~~

The afternoon is full of celebration led by Dutch. You can’t help but feel that this is his way of hiding that he did choose to move without waiting for you or sending anyone to find you. If it wasn’t for Micah, you’d be dead or even worse. “You’re going to be my little whore.” The voice of the O'Driscol echoes in your head.

Even though your sitting in front of a warm fire and everyone is singing and laughing, you can’t help but feel cold and sad. Micah hasn’t come back since he walked off earlier. He’s the one who saved your life and no one batted an eye for it.

When no one is paying attention, you stand and sneak your way to behind the tents. You make your way over to the horses and Baylock is still there. For the first time all night, you felt a small smile sneak it’s way onto your face. Micah must still be here somewhere.

“Y/N,” you jump and turn to see Arthur walking towards you. “What are you doing over here? You missing all the fun!” Arthur isn’t a heavy drinker, but you can tell he’s a little more than tipsy.

“I just needed a moment from the crowd.” You say, trying to hint at him to leave. With no prevail, you continue. “I was just going to take a small walk by myself.”

“Well, I can keep you comp’ny!” he slurs.

Dammit, Arthur.

You have an idea. “You know, Arthur, I think Mary-Beth has quite the thing for you.” He looks intrigued. “And, coming from a women’s perspective, a nice cool night like this is quite the romantic setting. I think you could make a pretty good move tonight.” You wink.

“You really think so?” he ponders the idea. “If you think I have a chance, maybe I’ll go for it!”

You gentle grab his arm and turn him to face the camp. “Go get’em, cowboy.”

You sigh as he makes his way back to the camp, now to find Micah.

~~~~~~

You had made your way into the trees. Thankfully, the moon was bright tonight and you could see under the shade of the trees. Finding him shouldn’t be a problem. Your confidence grew thin the longer you looked, though. You were about to give up when you saw a small wisp of smoke glow from behind a tree. The pine needles beneath your feet made it hard for him to hear you, so you speak softly as to not startle him.

“Micah, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You approach the tree he is leaning on and turn to face him. He is sitting on the ground and his head is tilted so you can’t see his eyes. You want nothing more than to see them and get lost in their deep blue color.

“What’re you doing way out here?” You know the answer, but you needed something to say.

“Same thing I always do, sweetheart. Avoiding those who despise me, which unfortunately seems to be everyone at the moment.”

After a small pause, you say, “I don’t despise you.”

He takes a long draw from his cigarette before he looks up. “And why is that? What do you see in me? ‘Cause there ain’t nothing here worth giving two shits about.”

You can’t think of anything to say that won’t set him off. You can tell he’s right on the edge of snapping.

He sighs, “That’s what I thought, there ain’t--” He stops when he sees you walking towards him.

You move so your standing over him, one foot on either side of his legs. He flicks away his cigarette and slowly runs his hands softly up your legs. Once he reached your thighs, you lower yourself to straddle him. Your heart is pounding, but you don’t want to let him see how nervous you really are.

One of his hands stops on your hip, while the other one continues. He runs his fingers up your arm, following them with his eyes. They brush over your shoulder, onto your neck, and down your jaw. He finally makes eye-contact with you making you shiver.

“Now what do you think you’re up to, doll.”

You don’t respond with words. Instead, you place your hands on his chest, grab the fabric of his shirt, and lean in to kiss him. You pull away, stopping only a few inches back, just so you can look into his eyes.

He moves one hand around your waist and the other gets lost in your hair as he pulls you in to a much deeper kiss. As his tongue enters you mouth, you begin to feel yourself throb. You’ve been hoping for this for so long and it’s finally happening. Your heart beats faster as you begin to grind against him slowly but rough.

He pulls himself away from the kiss. “Are you sure you want this? With me?”

You reach down to start undoing the buttons on your shirt. “I want this. I want you, Micah.”

You pull off your shirt and your battered undershirt, revealing your breasts. He glances at you approval before he grabs them. He leans back in to kiss you. As he moves his hands to hold your waist again, he grazes your nipple, causing you to moan into the kiss. That must’ve been what did it for him because he grabs tightly onto your hips.

“If you want me, your gonna need to loose these,” He runs his fingers down your pants. Before you can respond, his thumb has reached down the the seam right in-between your legs. You didn’t realize how wet you had became until he started to apply pressure. You let out a small moan again. You were so sensitive from anticipation for the moment, you could hardly stand it.

He begins to rub more as he leans in to start sucking on your neck. It’s becoming too much for you; you want him so bad. You reach down, moving your hand past his to grab onto his bulge through his pants. When you do this, he bites down onto the spot he had just made on your neck, causing you to whimper. All at once, he removes his mouth from your neck and his hand from your pants. You let out a sigh, missing the sensation.

He starts to undo his belt. Taking that as a sign, you stand to remove your pants and panties. Wasting no time, you straddle him again.

“This is your last chance, doll, you sure you want this. I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.”

“Yes, Micah, please. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

He smiles as he moves his hand back down, starting to run small circles or your clit. “Trust me, princess, I’ve been wanting this too.”

You lean in to kiss him again, trying to silence your moans. He slowly begins to move two fingers to enter you. You can’t hold back the whimpers escaping your throat; you crave him so much.

He continues to rub your clit with his thumb as the two fingers curl inside of you.

“P-please, Micah, I can’t take it. I want you.”

As much as he was trying to hold back as long as he could, your begs pushed him over once again. He reaches into his pants and pulls out his dick.

“Look at me,” He says. You do as you’re told. You bite your lip as he rubs his member over your clit and entrance, wetting himself with your slick. All at once, he shoves himself into you, causing you to let out a loud moan. He reaches up and covers your mouth.

“Shhh. You don’t want the whole camp coming over here and interrupting us, do you, doll?” He hisses. You shake your head, his hand holding back muffled whimpers as you get use to his size. Once you’re quiet, he moves his hand away. “Good girl.”

He grabs onto your hips tightly, his thumbs digging into them hard. He lifts you and slams you back onto him. Another moan tries to escape you. “I’m not going to continue until I know you can be quiet, babe.” he teases. You pout your lips at him. He smiles and tilts his head, exposing his neck from underneath his hair. You look at his neck then back at him. He grins.

“Bite me.” he says in a deep tone that you can feel in your chest, causing you to shiver and tighten on his cock that’s deep inside you. “Well?” he smirks.

You put your arms on his shoulders and place your lips on his neck. You can’t imagine actually biting him, that would hurt too much, right?

He starts to slowly lift you and thrust into you. You wants to moan so badly, but you know he’ll only stop again. You keep your lips shut tightly, keeping them pressed up against him.

He begins to thrust harder, grinding your clit against him every time. It’s too much and you open your mouth to moan, but instead bite down onto his neck. You hear him snarl and feel a growl in his throat. He speeds up, lifting you high enough each time to take in his whole shaft. He pounds into you, you feel your clit start to throb more and more and your insides tighten.

You start to taste the metallic flavor of blood right as you tip over the edge. You can’t help it, you pull away from him to arch your back and ride through your climax. The feeling keeps getting better and better. You sense he’s lifting you lower as his arms grow tired. You begin to lift yourself, riding him until he’s finished. You feel his cock grow stiffer and begin to throb as he’s about to come.

He reaches up and grabs your hair, pulling you forward into a sloppy kiss. He reaches down and grabs your hips a final time to slam into you as hard as he can. He let’s out a deep moan through gritted teeth and he finishes, filling you up. This causes you to let out one final moan before you fall onto his chest.

“God-dammit, Y/N.” He pushes you up so he can look at you. “What the hell got into you?”

You smile, too exhausted for words. You lean forward and lick the small drops of blood from his neck.

“You wouldn’t happen to have enough space in that tent of yours for one more, would you?” he says. He leans forward to leave a small trail of kisses up your neck and across you jaw.

“Hmm, I think I can make some room.”

#wow #micah bell #micah bell smut #smut #yummy #rdr2 #Red Dead Redemption #it's about time #yay

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

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🌼~BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.~🌼 xoxo toss a coin to your bard

You are far too sweet to send this, and my apologies for sitting on this so long without replying! I will definitely be continuing the game and appearing as a loving anon in ask boxes soon. In the meantime, here's a little ficlet of thank you.

As a bit of background, I've been watching Centaurworld recently and this song (Rider's Lullaby) has been stuck in my head for days. So I thought I'd give it a bit of a twist and let the horses of Kaer Morhen have it.

Lullaby of the Wolf

Winters weren't a time of rest for just Witchers. Their trusted companions on the perilous Path were also granted some much needed rest. Roach and Scorpion went years back, familiar enough with each other that Roach's disdain and Scorpion's less desirable personality traits no longer caused problems. They could even be housed in neighbouring stalls which was a major breakthrough on an especially cold winter. All the same, it was a welcome surprise when a bay gelding separated them.

"You're not the prickly bastard's," Roach sniffed daintily.

"My rider travels with him. They call me Nettle. Because I'm a pain in the butt."

There was a snort from Roach and Scorpion laughed heartily at that.

"Bossman called me Scorpion because I stung his pride. He really hoped for a nice juicy steak as his surprise."

Roach dryly cut in, "He should have eaten you anyway, probably would if he could understand you."

Nettle, rather wisely, decided not to comment on that. Or the colourful swearing Scorpion went off on about how a full blooded stallion like him was...actually, Nettle tuned it out in favour of watching a goat trot into the stable and give him a hard stare.

"Prickly's mate is staying, teach him."

Which was how Nettle spent the rest of winter learning the way of a Wolf Witcher's horse. Though he was a Cat Witcher's steed, he was deemed worthy of being brought into the fold. Namely, the lullaby. While horses' singing wasn't audible to humans, Witcher or not, it still seemed to help. Not only did it seem to soothe the Witchers, it helped the horses too, gave them something to focus on outside the wild panic of the situation at hand.

Despite none of them being exceptionally gifted in the way of singing, they all joined in, their soft voices joining to make a chorus.

"Where did the song come from?"

"The old one's mule taught us. Who was taught by the mule before," Roach explained.

The goat, Lil Bleater, chipped in. "It's been passed down generations. Sometimes the old one still hums it. Especially when he's been left by his pups each spring."

That wasn't something Nettle ever heard. But he dutifully memorised the song and even sang it softly under his breath on the way down the mountain, where his human and his mate were tense, as worried as they were on the way up. The others had been right, though they couldn't hear the song, they both relaxed whenever Nettle sang.

It was pure luck that the prickly one's payment for a contract was a horse. She was black, had a tendency to be lame when she didn't want to do something and was, inevitably, named Bitch. Even if she was the nicest horse Nettle had ever met.

"You're a Wolf Witcher's horse now," he told her in the evening as they were left to graze on the sparse grass. "There's some things you need to learn."

Travelling together, Nettle taught Bitch the song. She was definitely suspicious at first.

"Just go lame, they won't pull you in the direction of danger. It's much easier."

Nettle laughed at that. "Their job is to go into danger. And ours is to follow. This is what we can do for them. Carry them, be there for them when nobody else wants to be. It's not much but sometimes we're the only thing they have. It's an honour."

So together they sang and Bitch learned to be brave. She appreciated not being coerced into things, no forceful shoving, no smacks. A lot of cursing and name calling, even a threat of being eaten if she didn't get with the programme but it was all empty words. The underlying impression she got from her prickly owner was that he cared and that was his problem. Because his fragile heart couldn't bear the idea of more senseless loss. Everyone knew the fate of those who got close to a Witcher, human, horse, goat, they all eventually died. But Bitch grew fond of him, she sang the song Nettle had taught her the first night they were alone. Nettle and his Witcher had to head off, she didn't pay much attention to the reason, her main concern was her prickly one and his sudden sullen coldness. It seemed Nettle had been right, Witcher sometimes only had their horses.

They'd been alone together for weeks. Human settlements came and went, monsters too. Her job was to make sure her human got from one place to the next and, sometimes, she kicked up a fuss still, limping in an effort to get him to rest. Despite her best efforts he was still miserable, obviously missing the company of his mate even when he vehemently denied the need for anything but solitude.

Trust was an easy thing to earn. Bitch was content to follow her new owner, following after him obediently. Though his job was as odds with her nature, he had yet to lead her wrong. And she no longer gave him grief either, only insisting on breaks when he needed them too. At least, that was what she told herself until she heard a soft baritone shakily singing.

"You're okay, you're alright, I'll never ever leave your side."

The voice buckled, a soft "I'm sorry" that most certainly wasn't part of the song whispered before continuing, "I will stay and I will fight with you."

Stomping her feet, Bitch pulled at her reins. It had her prickly owner cursing and pulling back, trying to get her to follow along. However, they weren't moving towards the song and Bitch wasn't going to let this go. Rearing up, the yanked her reins free and started off at a canter towards the voice. She ignored the cursing and yelling from behind, trusting her Witcher to follow. Off the path, she crashed into a clearing where a dark horse was curled around a large body. As she clattered to a halt, the horse snorted defensively, ears pinned back.

"If you know what's good for you, you fuck off right now," he snarled. The smell of blood made Bitch shift uncomfortably.

"The song! I know it!" As she approached, the other horse snorted in warning and slowly got to his feet, standing protectively over the barely conscious Witcher.

Though Bitch tried to sing the song, the other horse pawed at the ground. He would have no trouble running her down, they both knew it. Before he could charge though, Bitch's Witcher tumbled into the clearing and blinked once.

"Fucking hell Eskel, what the bloody tits have you done?" There was no hesitation as he barged up to the body and gave the large horse a two handed shove with a growled "move it".

"He's mine," Bitch said, plain and simple. "I've not had him long but he's a good man."

"I know, Prickly is part of Bossman's herd. Didn't think Prickly ever really wanted a steed."

"He didn't. But he got me anyway. Calls me Bitch."

"Nice. I go by Scorpion." The dark horse trotted closer, turning to look at his human with sadness. "I wouldn't do anything to help. I'm glad you brought Prickly here."

They watched together as a camp was quickly set up, potions poured in the fallen Witcher's mouth and wounds tended to with gruff efficiency.

"We might as well settle in," Scorpion announced. "It'll be a couple of days at least before we get moving. And knowing these two, we'll stay in close quarters for a while yet. Welcome to the herd."

#minor lambert/aiden #roach #scorpion #lil bleater #lambert #the witcher #oc horses #tldr: the horses of kaer morhen have a song

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honeyhenry · 3 years

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Sweet as Pie

With some much needed time off, and excitement crisp in the air, you had flown over to Jersey with your husband Henry for Christmas to stay with his family, and they had been delighted to have you both back on his homeland. You settled in to Henry’s old room, unpacking all of the gifts you had brought for his family. You knew his nieces and nephews were going to love you even more when they saw what would be lying for them under the grand Christmas tree in the living room. Secretly, you were their favourite - not that they’d ever tell their poor Uncle Henry.

The large home is tidy, but scattered with family members in every room, all feeling at home in the place where Henry and his brothers grew up. You’d been able to catch up with the relatives you didn’t often see, and promise to spend some quality time together over the holidays.

It was so sweet to watch all the children’s faces light up on Christmas morning. You were glad that you and Henry could be spared an extra few moments in bed, being the only childless couple in the house. Yet moments later, Kal had leapt onto the bed - much to Henry’s annoyance; “down Kal, careful now” - as soon as he had heard the pattering of his small friends’ feet out in the hallways. And what Kal wanted, you usually gave him.

Which is why, at 6.45am, Kal dragged you and in turn, dragged Henry down to the living room where the rest of the family sat, with the kids lit up like the Christmas tree that their plethora of presents laid under, grinning to their bleary eyed parents who’d barely had a wink of sleep on the cold winter morning.

“You’d think after 6 years it gets easier” you’d heard someone murmur, and so you’d decided to put the kettle on for those poor souls. Luckily for you, 45 minutes later, you’re able to snuggle back into bed with Henry, warming your feet on his legs to annoy him. You kiss the offended pout right off his face, before feeling his beefy arms wrap around your waist. It’s the last thing you had recalled, as you dozed off in his arms only seconds later, feeling his fingertips rub against your hip softly.

------

The kitchen was bustling with about 10 bodies all completing their various tasks; cooking, washing, baking, roasting, timing and tasting. Well, you had kicked your husband out of the kitchen for sneaking a taste of your dessert before it was ready, chastising him out of the door.

“You can either help properly or go and play with your siblings” you had bargained while he’d grinned, leaning against the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down like you were a pastry he was keen to ravish himself; “But who is going to compliment the chef?”

With that, you’d folded your arms across your chest, blushing at his words. The cheek of that man was not lost on you, and it still got you every single time.

And you loved him for it.

------

The meal was a total success. A wonderful soup starter, followed by a small appetiser, and then the most magnificent turkey. Feeding over 20 people - now probably closer to 30 if you were to include the children who were growing up so quickly in front of your eyes - had proven to be difficult, but it was a challenge the family had clearly tackled before.

You had been so excited to prepare the desserts, and present your dish. However, halfway through the day, somewhere between the main course, watching your nephews with their new toys, and the dessert course of the delicious homemade Christmas feast, you’d fallen asleep on the sofa completely tuckered out. Your legs rested on Henry’s lap as he’d covered you with a hand-knitted blanket that he’d once slept with as a boy. Henry’s mother speaks up, careful not to wake you. She has a gleam in her eye, not that you or even Henry notice, too wrapped up in your own cozy sleepy bubble together by the fire.

“Dessert can wait” his mother says to the gaggle of children and adults swarming the living room, “go out and get some fresh air.”

She turns to the children, specifically. “Do not disturb your Aunt, okay?”

------

Your cheeks are warm as the fire heats the living room, and after a particularly competitive game of rugby with his brothers, nieces, and nephews, Henry quietly checks on you. He had left the room earlier when you had shifted your legs slightly, taking the opportunity to get some fresh air himself. It had indeed been a long day. His brothers had questioned your tiredness briefly, making sure you were well. With the knowledge that you were simply sleepy, they had begun to joke that you obviously just couldn’t keep up with the rest of the Cavills - despite having married into the family for 2 years and been around for the holidays for 4. Henry had promised them that you were fine - that you still weren’t used to the long trip back to the island for the holidays.

Not exactly a fib, he’d thought.

Kal was laid beside you, loyal as ever, watching out for anyone who may disturb your rest, sending a rumbling growl towards anyone who approached. Except Henry.

While checking on you now to make sure you were still comfortable and resting well, he smiled, taking a picture of you wrapped up cosily by the fire, at peace in his childhood home, completely at rest and ease with him and his closest relatives. Petting Kal softly, he thanks him for looking after his mama so well.

“So?”

His mother, he hears. She’s alone for once as there was no one rushing to check for updates on food, no enquiries about the house, or any funny stories woven into a ten minute tale from her grandchildren. She’s alone, with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.

Henry stands up straight. There’s nothing that can wipe the tremendously cheesy grin off of his face. He can’t even speak. Even after dessert had finished, you were the one who would be doing all the talking, the telling, the explaining.

“Mum-”

“Henry. She’s not ill. and i know you’re sensible enough to not be up the whole night with your wife...at least under my roof. So…?”

He looks over at your peaceful form, and then scratches his neck, blushing at being caught out, but also ecstatic that he can finally say something about it.

“She’s eleven weeks. We’re expecting a baby next summer”

With that, his mother almost leaps with joy over to her son, who she hugs closely despite the obvious height barrier.

“Oh i knew it, I knew it! I’m so happy for you Henry, for you both. I thought, ‘She normally loves that bread for starter’, hm? Oh my boy! A father!”

With her proclamation, Henry finds that he has tears in his eyes as he holds his Mother close, finally glad that it’s not just a little secret between the two of you - well, the two of you and Kal, who had already been a stellar protector and big brother.

“We had planned to tell everyone after dessert…we’ve known for nearly 2 months and it’s been killing me that I couldn’t say. We’ve had to be so careful-“

“Henry?” he hears your quiet voice from across the room, as Kal’s collar jingles. He turns to see you sitting up from your nap with Kal booping his nose at your stomach. You’re scratching at his head, thanking him for being such a wonderful boy, while looking up at the two Cavills.

It takes less than a second for you to realise what is happening in front of you. Your jaw drops and louder than your previous call, you exclaim, “Henry you told her?”

“She worked it out! Practically forced it out of me.” he grins, holding his hands up as his Mother pretends to smack his arm.

You stand, watching not to step on Kal or any stray Legos that your nephews have left strewn across the floor, and walk over to hug her. She’s been so caring and kind since you’ve joined the family all those years ago, and you know that she will be an incredible Grandma to your little one.

Breaking apart from the hug, you find Henry pulling you to him carefully, letting you melt into his side. Kissing your forehead he asks, for your ears only, “Good sleep? No pains? Sickness?” He has a small crease of worry between his brows and you always do your best to soften that small tense area with regular updates and sweet kisses.

“Yeah i’m okay honey” you reassure him, patting your stomach, “this ones growing up a storm in there”.

And they really are. Henry’s mother cannot believe she’s seeing it, and mostly can’t believe she missed it. You’re already showing, but a large loose sweater -probably one of Henry’s old ones that has since become yours - over your dress, has hidden a sizeable roundness to your stomach that you were excited to finally show.

“How did I miss this!” Your mother-in-law gasps, causing you to grin, and Henry’s chest to puff with utter pride and excitement.

“I know it’s bordering on having too much to eat, but we’ve been hiding it for a couple weeks now. Doctor thinks that baby’s gonna be big. Just like their daddy.” You explain, giving your stomach another gentle rub, surprised to find Henry’s hand there on it already.

If you’d thought Kal was protective, Henry was another thing altogether.

He’s still grinning as you kiss him, before you pull away to speak more to his mother about all the details, especially when you’ll be coming over to Jersey again. Kai follows you closely, making sure you’re staying safe. He’s known that there’s something up with his mama, there has been for weeks, especially with the way his master looks after you now.

Henry, deciding to be sneaky while the two women in his life are currently distracted chatting, takes another taste of the dessert you made, now set out on the kitchen. The worst part is, he thinks he’s got away with it.

He realises he doesn’t the second you smack his hand from the dessert.

“Strike two Mr Cavill! Step away from the pie.”

“And if I don’t?” he raises an eyebrow, watching your reactions as you hold a butter knife in your hand trying to look at least vaguely threatening - failing miserably. “Maybe i’ll strike out tonight, hm?” he continues with that wonderfully mischievous glint in his eye, taking cautious steps towards you. “You look even sweeter than your pie with this little bump here. Maybe I’ll have a taste later after all.”

Henry’s mother had not been right in her assumptions, for under her roof, you and Henry were not sensible at all.

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

please let me know what u think! i am v nervous to post but excited!!!

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill writing #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry fic #cavillry #henry cavill fluff

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viouez · 3 years

Text

First Snow | 1

synopsis. introductions are never fun, especially when between the eight of them, one of them is ignorant about the things behind the curtain.

pairing. bts x reader genre. angst au. hybrid!au contents. its only about 6651 words note. i again, like most of these, wrote this a bit ago, rewrote it, fixed small parts, you know? jjk main character type ego

entire masterlist.

all rights reserved © viouez | the reposting, modifying, and/or translating of any kind on any medium is allowed. the reposting, modifying, and translating of my work without explicit permission from me is technically a criminal act under the law but will not be dealt with legal action because i would enjoy my ideas to be distributed.

A slight sigh fell from the female's lips, head tilting to the side as she listened to her coworkers job explanation. She had already been given the rundown by the boss when she was given the job. Though, she wasn’t going to stop him from talking about his passion, a second listen never hurt anybody.

She smiled widely when she caught her friend turning the corner, clipboard in hand to show her to the work area. He raised a hand in a wave and sent the other worker off, saying something about the boss needing him down in the labs. She wouldn’t question it. He turned towards her once again and gave a warm smile.

“So, the boss has given you room twenty-nine, I think you’ll want a room explanation before you meet any of the hybrids occupying such a room.” Chanyeol admitted awkwardly, pointing back towards the rooms.

“That’s the newcomers room, Chan, I don’t think I’m educated enough to deal with them yet. I haven’t even finished my schooling.” she almost gasped out, hands gripping onto the boys arm

He only gave her a sympathetic smile, patting the top of head. It was very uncommon for the boss to put someone just hired into the newcomers room. They were some of the most hostile or violent hybrids that were into the facility. He just hoped the boss knew what he was doing by sending her in.

“Thankfully, your job with the newcomers is simple. You’ll be the one who does checks up. Meaning, you’ll be the one giving medications, ordering their food and delivering from the cafeteria, at least three times a day, since you’ll be working until about six.” He paused, reading over the paperwork one more time

“I’m just the caregiver, then?” hopeful, she stood on her tippy toes to try and read the papers as well.

“If they need absolutely anything, you’ll be the only person they can go to. Its also your job to decide if adopters would be a good fit for them. You get to give the final decision.” finishing his reading, he motioned towards the door, “Let’s get you to the hybrids, shall we?”

She nodded, excited to start her first day, before taking the clipboard from the man. Her eyes raked over the words and tried her best to take in the information as quickly as possible to seem professional. She had this, she just had to start her first day with confidence and authority. This would be easy for her.

Pushing through the door, she stepped into room twenty-nine. This is where she started her first day. She needed to make a good first impression.

Without realizing, she stood froze in the door way as her eyes danced around the room. Seven males sat in a circle in the middle of the plain white room. Most of their heads were hanging down and their hands were placed, folded in their laps. This looked more like an AA meeting than a comfortable meeting space for them.

She parted her lips to question the hybrids on what was happening before a male pushed through a side door holding a tray of medications. Having not noticed the female, the worker stopped in front of a hybrid who curled in on himself. The almost threatening glare of the worker scared the girl as he forced the hybrids lips apart, dumping the array of medications into his mouth.

“Hey.. hey, what are you doing?” her voice came out, a stuttering mess, goodbye to that good first impression, “Stop that, what do you think you’re doing? Don’t grab them like that.”

This gained the workers attention, hand ripping itself away from the hybrid at the new appearance, “I’m just giving them their medications, what do you think I’m doing? Are you an adopter or something?”

“I’m the new worker for this station. You can go, I’ll finish up here, thank you.”

The worker only rolled his eyes and moved to place their medications back onto the tray before leaving through the door they came in from. She was truly shocked at how harshly the worker was treating the hybrids. That was completely unneeded. She was sure the hybrids would take their meds without violence.

She sighed in relief that the worker was gone before once again sinking into her thoughts. She had just done that little show in front of seven hybrids, the ones she was supposed to be caring for. Her stuttering and lack of confidence probably did not give the best look.

Trying her best to build up just a tad bit more confidence, she stepped into the circle of hybrids and hurried to the medications tray. She could do this, she knew she could, but now she was anxious that she gave a bad first impression.

“You got this, don’t even worry about it. So what you got scared? Anyone would be after seeing that.. Right?” she whispered to herself as she glanced over the paperwork one more time, “Don’t chicken out now.”

From what she could tell, the medications they were being given weren’t really hybrid medications. Seemed more like meds you would be giving your actual cat or dog, not a hybrid. What hybrid needs flea medications? Could hybrids even get fleas?

A lot of the ones she was seeing did differ depending on the hybrid taking them. A wolf hybrid within the group would be taking medications to calm down the alpha effects within their body, seeing as they are being shoved into a group of unknown hybrids. A few were being given anti-anxiety medications. One was being given heat suppressors, which was confusing, wouldn’t they all be receiving them if in a center?

Finally turning towards the hybrids, she swallowed harshly and tried to put a hybrid on the faces. She could tell who the wolf was in the pack, the intimidating aura gave that away very quickly. Some of them were harder to tell from the others, granted, she could just look at the list, but she wouldn’t be able to have them introduce themselves. First impressions.

Stepping towards the one who she saw being manhandled, she glanced over the hybrids features, sighing when the red marks from the worker came into view. She bent down a bit to give them the look over, finger trailing over the red marks the workers hand had made. She grimaced at the light whine the figure made at her touching, hand pulling back without a second thought.

“Would you like a drink? I’m sure you’re not feeling too well with what had happened. Taking pills with no drink sounds quite painful.” Y/N smiled lightly, waiting for a reply, hoping that the hybrid wouldn’t be too scared of her.

Once the hybrid nodded, she returned the gesture and quickly walked over to the door the worker stepped into. When she glanced into the room, she furrowed her eyebrows. With a slight groan, she stepped back into the room and pursed her lips. She did have drinks for herself.

It wouldn’t be too bad if she skipped out on them today. She’ll make sure to order some for them tomorrow morning. She wonders if they’d be able to give her suggestions for what kind of drinks they would like. Hopefully after this introduction, they’d trust her a little bit more.

“Seeing as I don’t plan on asking the person from before, I’ll be right back, I need to grab everyone something to drink, okay? Don’t go too far.” She tried to joke around before she exited the room.

It only took about ten minutes before the female was stepping back into the room, with Chanyeol. All the hybrids bodies stiffened at the sight of the man. She was smiling at him before showing him where to sit down the items she had brought.

“Thank you so much, Chan, I promise I’ll ask about getting drinks from the cafeteria next time but the worker that was here seemed a bit too hostile towards everyone.” She mumbled, though the hybrids could hear everything she was saying.

“I’ll have to talk to them about that. I can’t believe they would handle the hybrids like that. Disgusting behavior. But, next time you need anything, write it down and send it over in a text until we can get you a work phone, okay?” Chanyeol added on as they walked back towards the door.

She nodded quickly and moved to push him out of the room, “Go, go! You’ll be late.”

Happy with everything, she walked back into the hybrid circle. Thankfully, Chanyeol was there to help her with the drinks. She had gone grocery shopping and decided that because it was chilly out, her drinks would be alright in the boot of her car. She was correct and glad she left them.

She quickly grabbed one of the milks and stepped back towards the skittish hybrid from before. The second she held the drink out, the hybrid hesitantly took the drink.

“I apologize for taking so long, I had to go out to my car and then Chanyeol stopped me. I hope your throat feels much better. Oh! I also grabbed some cream from my car for your face.” she muttered out, hands shoving into her pocket.

Pulling out the cream, she put a small dot on her finger before glancing up at the hybrid. Once again, hesitant, the hybrid gave a slight nod and turned his head to the side. Gently, the girl applied the cream to the marks left on his face.

“I read on your paperwork that you’re a Samoyed? I mean, your ears kind of give it away too.” She smiled as she pulled her hand back, “I used to have a close friend who was a Samoyed, she always had such bright white ears. It didn’t help that she kept dyeing her hair black and left her ears out.”

This caught the hybrids attention, “You’ve met a Samoyed before? I’ve never seen another one-”

“My older brother used to have a close friend who was Samoyed. She was always so active, I could never keep up with her. Always had such amazing stamina, my little chubby legs could never.”

She could only smile at the memories, she missed the hybrid. Her brother wasn’t too happy when it came to the topic, but he would talk about it if needed. She was taken away by a center because she wasn’t actually adopted. She was a stray he had found and decided to keep. When they found out, they took her away.

“Her name was Mina. She was a lovely person!” happy to be speaking about her, she watched the hybrid sip on his milk, “What’s your name?”

“Oh.. I’m Jimin. They didn’t tell you beforehand?” The hybrid asked, quietly, almost unsure of himself.

“It’s on the paperwork, but I would like to meet you guys how anyone would normally meet someone new, you know? I don’t care what they write on paper.”

The hybrid nodded at her words, going back to his drink. She took this as a sign to move along and meet the other hybrids, not sure how long it had been since she started talking to Jimin. He was a very quiet dog hybrid, she wondered if the other canines were the same.

She turned to grab another milk, glancing over the paperwork to know which pills were for the next hybrid. She knew he was a wolf hybrid, but they did not have the pills ordered correctly. If she knew they were this disorganized, she would’ve grabbed their medication herself.

“It’s the one with the large red pill.” a voice pulled her from her concentration.

Trusting the hybrid, she grabbed the cap of pills and stepped towards the wolf hybrid. She was not the best when it came to meeting new people, she had a good reason to speak with Jimin normally. He needed cream for his marks, but, the wolf hybrid was intimidating.

“Thank you for helping me. The worker seems to really not like his job. He’s made it very confusing for everyone but himself.” she spoke softly, knowing wolf hybrids spoke more confidently when the others were more submissive sounding.

Granted, it may have been a stereotype that she learned from schooling. She wasn’t too sure but she wasn’t going to test that logic either. Wolves seemed to be the most difficult hybrids to deal with when it came to tempers and aggression.

The wolf showed no aggression towards her, she felt like she was safe.

“The names Namjoon,” the wolf started, taking the items from her, “Yeah, he’s not the best worker here, you saw how he treated Jimin.”

“I’m still really sorry about that. I was in shock or I would’ve spoken up sooner. I did not think that the workers were so.. harsh.” she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it, a lot of us are used to it. Jimin just seems to be his main target most of the time. None of us understand why. Maybe because he’s the smallest, but eh, not much we can do about it.”

“I promise to try my best and not let that happen again. I’m your new caregiver anyways, he should stay gone. Or I’ll speak to Chanyeol again. He’s my friend, so, he should do something, right?”

She was speaking more to herself at this point, the wolf could tell. Though, he was confused about how she assumed Chanyeol was any better than the worker from before. He’s beaten the hybrids in the room. He’s done a lot worse and yet, she had no idea.

“It’s nice to meet you, Namjoon. I’m happy to be your new caregiver. I promise to do my best.” she spoke out a minute later, smiling at the wolf.

The hybrids in the room weren’t in a pack together, but he still appreciated her assuming they were. That means he would be making most of the decisions for the group. He had been here the longest and he knew the most, so this would help the group as a whole.

Watching her step away to grab the next set of medications, the wolf glanced around the room. He caught eyes with Seokjin, only giving a slight nod his way. The hybrid dropped his shoulders in relief. The eldest was the most worried about the group, sensing that she was a very new employee. Ignorance is bliss.

She hesitated when she had to step towards the next hybrid, him already giving her a nasty look. Swallowing her nerves, she gave a small smile and held the milk out for him.

“I.. I’m assuming you’re Suga? I think you’re the only feline in the room..” she whispered, the confidence draining from her body.

The hybrid took the milk and meds, downing them within seconds. He shrugged his shoulders at her words. He wasn’t too sure why she was so terrified of him. He knew he had a resting bitch face, but he couldn’t do anything to her while she was here.

“It’s Yoongi.” he spoke, licking over his lips, “Do you have anymore milk?”

She quickly nodded, moving to the box to grab another bottle for the cat. Once he got the bottle, he smiled at her to try and ease her nerves. The room was suffocating in them, he could barely breathe. She wasn’t entirely confused about the cat, but, she knew this was going to be quite the relationship between client and worker until they were separated into their own sections for hybrids.

“Yoongi? It’s pretty, means shine, a lovely name” She commented as she stepped over to the next hybrid.

Taking a break from the hybrids, she slowly walked back towards the medicine tray. She had already met three hybrids who all had very different personalities. Jimin was shy and quiet, not too sure what to say whenever he said anything. It’s almost like he triple checked in his mind before he spoke to her.

Namjoon knew what he was saying and was confident in himself, she was surprised that he was even sent to a center, honestly. Wolf hybrids weren’t entirely rare to see in the hybrid world, but seeing them in a center was a rare sight. They would rather send them in the wild than in a center full of hybrids. Sometimes its too much for them to concentrate or create bonds.

Though very much intimidated by the feline, Yoongi seemed to be a interesting one. Why did they give him a nickname like Suga? Was he returned from an adopter? He didn’t seem to keen on talking with her. Though, that could be a trauma response as well. Most hybrids go through trauma within just ten years of life.

“Are you alright?” a voice questioned beside her, scaring her

She pushed away from the new voice, hand slamming over her heart in quick movement. She didn’t mean to freak out over one of the hybrids speaking to her, she was just lost in thought.

“I am so sorry, I did not mean to freak out like that. I was just in thought. I have a bad memory, so remembering names is a bit hard.” she quickly moved to apologize, bowing slightly towards the hybrid.

“You were just staring at the table, I assumed you needed a bit of help.” Namjoon sheepishly acknowledged, “It’s okay if you don’t!”

“No, no, please, they’re not labeled and I don’t want to mix any medications up. I appreciate the help, I do. Again, I’m really sorry for getting scared, I should’ve been paying attention.”

Shaking his head, the wolf smiled and quickly went to put the medicines in order for the last four hybrids. He quietly named off the hybrids breeds in order for her not to mix them up. She mentally begged that he did not believe she couldn’t do her job. She was just nervous and trying to remember names.

“Thank you again, Namjoon, I get overwhelmed when things aren’t in order, I wish I had gotten the meds myself.” she admitted, muttering out a little curse towards the other worker.

Once again shaking his head, he moved back towards his seat. She appreciated the help, seeing as she almost gave the wrong hybrid the heat suppressant. She was glad she wouldn’t be messing up their medications. God knows how upset Chanyeol would be with her.

“Hi, uh, I want to assume you’re the fox hybrid?” quietly, she walked over to the male with the more pointed ears.

“Ah, yes, that’s me. My name is Seokjin, by the way, it’s lovely to meet you.” He was happy to take the items from her grasp, thankful for his meds.

“Its lovely to meet you as well, Seokjin, I hope we have a nice time working together.”

She couldn’t help the smile from appearing on her face, heart calming down. She was so worried to meet these hybrids and yet they’ve all been kind to her. Hell, Yoongi could’ve reacted a lot worse than he did, but he did introduce himself willingly.

“I.. I like your hair color.” she whispered, nervous now that she complimented without thinking.

“Thank you. I had just gotten it done before I was pushed into here. I think it’s a lovely orange shade.” Seokjin laughed at the compliment, thankful at a change in atmosphere.

“Ah, compliment me next, please? Pretty please?” another voice cut in between the two of them.

Y/N glanced over and caught the second dog hybrid pouting at the two of them. Nodding at his request, she quickly grabbed his things and came back over to speak with the excited pup. She was happy that one or two of them were happy to talk with her.

“I’m Taehyung, but you can call me Tae, I don’t mind, I feel like we’ll get close anyways!” He spoke, voice deep but louder than most of the other hybrids she met already.

“If you want me to call you Tae, I don’t mind at all. It’s a beautiful nickname.” She nodded at his words, opening his milk for him as his tail slapped against another hybrids chair.

She wanted to question why he sat sideways, but she as not going to do that just yet. He seemed extremely comfortable with her already, she wouldn’t wanna ruin that.

Grabbing the drink from her, making sure to be calm enough to not drop it, he quickly brought it to his mouth, gulping down the liquid. Without thinking, she tapped his wrist gently, whining at how quickly he drank.

“Be careful, Tae, you’ll end up with a stomach ache if you keep drinking so fast.” she rushed out, almost thankful when he pulls the drink away from his mouth.

Whining back at the worker, the pup listened and pulled the bottle from his lips, licking the milk that was strapped above his lip. She held the pill bottle towards him, tilting her head to see if he would be another willing hybrid, only to have the pill bottle pushed back towards her.

“You don’t want to take your pills? Why not? They’re supposed to make you feel really good and make sure your body is healthy.” She frowned, holding the pills up again.

“You take the pills for me then if that’s what they’re supposed to do. Pills are no no’s, you can’t take them, they’ll hurt you.” He sarcastically commented after her

“Hm, okay, how about we make a deal then? If you can take all your pills, i’ll give you another drink, how does that sound?”

He took a minute to think about the deal. It was obvious she was trying to bribe him into taking the meds, but this is the most fun he’s had in a while with any worker here. Pursing his lips just slightly, he looked over the girls face and hummed.

Seeing how hopeful she looked, he sighed in defeat and nodded at her words. Taking the cup of pills, he dumped them in his mouth and quickly drank the rest of his milk. Clapping her hands happily, she quickly moved back to grab him another milk, opting to grab a strawberry milk as a treat.

Taking the drink, he was happy to take little sips this time, wanting to savor the drink.

“So, I have a quick question to ask you, Tae, you know.. do dogs like to sniff hands like cats do? I know the full animal sniff the rears of their playmates but what do hybrids do?” She questioned with genuine confusion, looking away from the pup

“I do not.. and hybrids sniff as well, we just don’t sniff their asses like the full animals do. Also, Yoongi doesn’t do the whole sniffing thing either, he’s too mean, plus he has a sensitive nose, it always shows when Jimin and I are around him, but he never has an issue with Namjoon!” the pup almost vented to the worker.

She didn’t mind letting the canine to vent to her, she kind of found it cute. He did not mind talking to a stranger about the problems within the hybrid group. Though, she wasn’t surprised that he and Yoongi didn’t get along. Steretypically cats and dogs have never gotten along too well. Especially when they’re much older.

“I wouldn’t think he did, he didn’t seem so pleased with my presence, but it's something I knew was going to happen. And its nice to meet you, Taehyung, it’s a nice name, something unique.” She nodded at his words, stepping back towards the middle so she could move on, but still wanted to talk to the pup

“My owner gave it to me! she’s a really nice person, you know? She always gave me meat, so much meat, but then she stopped coming home, I think that maybe she was just visiting her family and they brought me here to watch after me.” He spoke loud enough so she could hear while she stepped away.

Turning her back to the hybrid, she frowned lightly. This could only mean two things and both ways, she didn’t like the idea of him finding out one day. The owner either passed away while away from the house or she had given up ownership to the center. Both ways are heartbreaking.

It wasn’t uncommon for hybrids to be taken from their owners either, it just seemed to more reasonable for someone to give up their ownership than the hybrid just be taken away. By law, it had to be a huge reason for your hybrid to be taken from you. Most places, the law passes over abuse, most mean trafficking or invalid adoptions. It was hard to learn in school, but one day it will change, everyone was sure of it.

Without speaking another word about the issue, she found herself standing in front of another hybrid, softening when their features formed into worry, probably realizing what the boy next to him had meant by what he said. He looked up at her and frowned, mentally asking if she understood.

“Will they ever tell him what happened? He hasn’t stopped talking about her since he got here and its been weeks. He thinks he’s going back with her when she gets back..” The hybrid started, a low whine falling from their throat.

“I don’t know when the center thinks would be the best time to tell him. I just know that when he is told, he’ll need some comforting. I know hybrids can read feelings and emotions a lot better than humans can, so, do you think you’d be able to help out?” she questioned softly, not sure how else to approach the situation.

“I could do my best. I’m just not too sure how much the poor thing could take. He’s like.. In love with the girl or something. It’s always Jieun this.. Jieun that. He never stops talking about her. Even Yoongi tried to say something and he just refused to take it as truth. He almost fought with the dude.. Taehyung did. Its weird.”

Not sure what else to say to the poor hybrid, she gently handed over the milk and pills. Maybe she’ll talk to Chanyeol about the situation and see what he thinks about it all. Hopefully when she gets close enough to the hybrid, she’ll be able to talk to him about it.

Taehyung seemed to be an extremely hopeful hybrid. It’s not something rare to see, but in a center it is. He seemed to be around her age as well in human years, meaning that he was old enough to forget all about child-like hopes and dreams. She’s curious about who his last owner happened to be.

Unlike Taehyung though, Seokjin seemed to be a very calm hybrid. He didn’t seem to mind talking to her like they were old friends. He was nice to speak with, very well educated and talked as if he had been with a high-class family. She wonders why they would give up such a delightful hybrid.

Feeling the atmosphere change, the hybrid in front of her pat her arm and got her attention, only giving a small smile, holding the cup back up towards her. They both knew the pup would be told sometime while here and they both knew that it wouldn’t be a pretty picture the minute he actually realized he had been abandoned.

“We’ll try and let him know slowly, so it doesn’t hurt him too much as he realizes. It’ll be a lot for him, but I think he’ll come out fine with a bunch of friends around him, you know?” she smiles, glancing over the canine one last time.

“I hope so, he’s a lovely kid, just has a childlike way of thinking. He’s hopeful,” the hybrid shrugged, turning back towards the girl with a nod, “I’m Hoseok, by the way, It’s nice to meet you finally, I’ve been waiting so long.”

She blushed, realizing she had been taking her time with meeting most of the hybrids, having talked to the five before him for over two hours. She hadn’t even realized how long it had taken her to introduce herself to them all. This is probably why she was a good fit for the job. She can have time pass really easily.

“You’re a red panda, right? A rare sight to see.” She admitted, trying to change topics.

“I am! I’m quite rare on this side of the world, yes, I’m not originally from here.” Hoseok nods,

“They really don’t teach us about red pandas in school, you know? We learn the very basics about pandas. I don’t think I learned anything about red pandas.”

Laughing at her comment, the hybrid shook his head. Of course it was rare to see red pandas talked about in schooling, they’re mostly only learned about when it came to natural habitat. Most of the time, they were taught in places like India and China, where you could actually find them. Not here.

“I guess we’ll both be teaching each other something. If you don’t mind.. I would like to learn about hybrid things as well! We can be each others teachers.” Hoseok smiled, hopeful.

“I would love that, actually. I would love to learn about red pandas. You are someone I take care of, I’d like to know more about you and your hybrid side. I’m sure there’s so much to learn as well. I’m excited.” She bounced on the balls of her feet.

Making plans with the hybrids was nice, she felt like she was getting along with mostly everybody. Standing back at the medicine table, she realized she only had one more pill cup left.

Glancing over at the last hybrid, she swallowed. She could tell why the hybrid was sent into a center. It broke her heart, but she knew how people and hybrids were. If they didn’t fit the usual stereotype of the hybrid, they weren’t wanted or cared about.

Most bunnies had small figures, shorter in height, smaller in size, most were grey or white colored, and they had more feminine features as well. This bunny seemed to be quite the opposite. His shoulders weren’t the broadest, but he definitely looked more masculine than feminine besides maybe his facial features. He was built larger than most as well, seemed about a few inches from six foot, larger thighs and biceps, he looked more like a man than a boy.

If she were seeing them from far away, ears hidden, she would assume the Samoyed and bunny were the opposite species. The pup had a figure closer to a stereotypical bunny while the bunny had the stereotypical body of a dog, she thought the stereotype breaking of both species was adorable. She loved the idea that you would be surprised seeing their species.

“The most rare breed of rabbit..” she spoke quietly as she red over the paperwork, glancing back over to the boy.

How in the world did one of the most rare breeds of rabbit end up in a center?

“Blanc De Hotot.. You are the most rare rabbit to exist. How are you here?” her voice came out weak, now that she was standing closer to the hybrid.

No, she did not realize how harsh the comment came out or how wrong it could sound to any of the hybrids in the room. She was completely shocked that someone willingly got rid of him. He was the most rare.

“When you aren’t sought after in sex work, they don’t want you anymore.” the hybrid spit, rolling his eyes are her comment, though, he was confused on how he was a rare breed.

“I’m sorry to hear that, I’m glad you refused such terrible work, I would rather be on the streets than to be forced to sleep with people I didn’t know. It’s a harsh business to work in, especially for hybrids.” her voice was barely audible by the human ear.

He tensed at her words but kept his eyes down as he grabbed the items from her hands, allowing himself to take the medications. It wasn’t the fact that he hated the sex work, it gave him a place to stay while also relieving himself of anger or frustration. But once he couldn’t take the work, he was shoved into the streets, a bunny who had only known labs and then sex work from a young age.

“At least while you’re here, you can take care of yourself and then get an owner who will take you in with care and not with ideas of slaving you around.” She smiled happily, completely confusing the poor bunny.

He was going to be sold off to someone else? He had no idea they they took in animals just to sell them off when they felt like it. He left for a reason. He wanted to live on his own and become his own person. He didn’t want to just be sold off to someone else. He’d rather staying this room with the people he had gotten used to being around, people who would become his friends or family, people he trusted to leave him in his own room without bothering him.

Anger built inside the bunny, fingers squeezing the milk bottle until the liquid exploded on both him and the worker, resulting in a small squeal falling from her lips as the cold liquid soaked into her clothing. He pushed up from his seat before slamming the bottle against the females chest, hearing the side doors shove open.

“Jungkook.. Please don’t.” her small voice came out, hands wiping at the wet feeling on her chest.

“They plan on reselling us? They plan on taking us in and then shipping us off to some new owner?” He snapped towards the male, ears twitching at the anger radiating from him

“No, no that’s not what i meant, that’s not what i meant at all.” The female tried to calm the hybrid down as well, letting the milk drop to the floor.

His hands raised before she was shoved to the side, hands gripping onto the medicine tray as the bunny stormed his way towards a side door. She whipped around and faced the fox hybrid, eyes widened before she realized exactly why the bunny stopped being forced into sexual work, he had a temper, a bad temper.

The same worker from before found his way next to the girl, smirk filling his lips as he watched her realized she had to actually be strong around the hybrids. She only rolled her eyes, wiping her clothes with her free hand, smiling sadly at the fox, hoping his body would relax from what happened.

“You can leave. I’ll clean up here and try speaking with the hybrid.” The girl muttered, grabbing the milk bottle from the floor.

“There’s not way you’ll make it a week. Chanyeol was an idiot for thinking you were a good fit with this group. They’re a group of unwanted hybrids with bad tempers. You’ll figure it out. Ones already shown his true colors. Just wait.” the man spoke, smirk only widening as the girl stared at him.

‘I do not care who you are or who you think you are to be speaking to me like that. These are my hybrids now. I want you out of this room or I will be calling Chanyeol. Do you think he’ll take sides with his friend or some rude worker who attacked a hybrid and threw milk on his friend before trying to scare her off?”

She knew what she said was manipulative or against her own morals but she refused to let some man sit here and tell her she wasn’t strong enough for this job. She would not back down. This is the job she wanted and the job she fought years of school for.

“Get out of my room.” her voice cracked as she spoke, but the fear now crawling up her legs was something she or the hybrids couldn’t ignore.

The male instantly went for the door after her threats, leaving the girl to bend over to try and calm her anxiety down. How the hell she had the balls to say that, she will never know. It scared her thinking on it.

“I’ll check on Jungkook and when I get back, I would like to know what you guys would like to eat or drink from now on. I’ll be ordering food from the cafeteria now and I would like for it to be something you guys will actually like.” she spoke, now quiet, scared she would sound too harsh.

Without giving any of them time to answer her or say anything, she made her way towards the door that Jungkook stormed off into. She took a deep breath, thinking about what to say when she’s in front of him. She hopes it’ll work out.

“I’ll go in and try to speak with him, if you hear any commotion, please do come in after me, you have every right to manhandle me if anything is happening as well, I get I'm not strong looking, but I do kick shins really well.” she spoke to the other hybrids.

Knocking gently, she pushed her way into the room when she hear a grunt in reply. When she closed the door, she gently backed up so her body was pressed into the cold metal. This is her time to try and make amends with the hybrid. If he forgave her or not was not up to her, this would take time.

Now that she looks around, it looks like a casual college kids room. posters rested against the walls here and there, a laptop even sat on a nightstand. How he was able to have one, she wouldn’t question. Weirdly enough, the room almost reminded her of her older brothers college dorm when he was still in college.

“Why are you in here?” the bunny snapped from his bed, hands bunched up in his lap.

“Jungkook, I want to apologize for what I said,” she bent her head down, trying to seem less intimidating, “I don’t think you’ll be sold off if you don’t want it. I make all final decisions, If you don’t want adopted, I can refuse any offers made until you know what you want. I can’t promise you that the others wont want to leave though, that’s up to them.”

The boy stayed quiet, watching the female as she waited for his reply. He wouldn’t be so forgiving, he couldn’t. He’s seen how horrible humans were. How horrible they would treat others and then how quick they would be to manipulate them into liking them after all of it. He couldn’t trust humans. He could trust Namjoon. Only Namjoon was trustworthy.

“I do not want to be sold off into another family. It’s bad enough being treated like another slave here, I don’t want to be owned by anyone. If you ever sell me off, I don’t know what I’ll do, but It will not be pretty.” The rabbit snapped out, standing from his bed to try and look big.

He didn’t need to try and look anything when the female was shaking like a leaf in front of him. How little was she told when she decided to take the job offer? How little does she know about this place?

“When things come out of the dark, I don’t want you to change your mind about this. If you’re here to be a caregiver, you stay. You are not allowed to leave, you hear me? Chanyeol can make you think what you want.. but when you see the truth.. you cant leave.”

hi <3

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unrequitedloveletter · 3 years

Text

Certainly- Kaz Brekker

The reader is a bit of an astrology and astronomy alike geek for this, which I hope y’all don’t mind! Also, in this case, phones exist so lets pretend that phones exist in Ketterdam, making it a bit of a modern au, I guess!

Also, this’ll probably be a bit ooc for Kaz

Fic type- angsty fluff

Warnings- blood, mentions of death, and the reader is sick (nothing specific, I just kind of took random symptoms and made up a word for the sickness)

You were determined to see the stars before you went, and as you grew sicker, none of the crows knew when that would be, so, after a little convincing, the crows had gotten Colm to let you spend a couple of months at his farm in Novyi Zem, where the stars were the clearest at night, not burdened by light pollution or the screams of lively cities.

It was the seven of you crammed into a basement, sharing beds, but none of them cared, and you were just glad to be with the people you called family. You were happy that they were with you, that Kaz was willing to wheel you everywhere when you got too weak to stand, that Jesper still made jokes, even despite watching you deteriorate. You were grateful for Inejs smile, Wylans music, Ninas impeccable tastes and Matthias and his big arms that could lift you and put you down without issue.

The six of them had started taking shifts taking you outside. Nina took you outside Sunday nights, Matthias Mondays, Wylan Tuesdays, Jesper Thursdays, Inej Fridays and Kaz Saturdays. Wednesdays you rested up; ate when it was time to eat, used the bathroom when you needed, took a shower if it were the appropriate time, but other than that, you slept.

It was Kaz’s day to wheel you out, and you’d had a particularly rough day that day. Inej went with him, promising not to intrude on the time that you would spend together. She’d do backflips and run across the roof of the farm if you asked her to, but she’d not interrupt otherwise.

“I love the stars,” you whispered, leaning back in your wheelchair and tightening the hold of the blanket over your lap. “Thank you both. For doing this.”

“Don’t you worry, love,” Kaz murmured. “Just keep your eyes on the stars, okay?”

“We’re happy to do this,” Inej added. “All of us are. Really.” It was like both of them could sense it as well as you could. You had a feeling that the night would end terribly, just like the morning had begun.

You’d woken up only to need to rush to the toilet immediately, blood coming up your throat like bile, staining your skin and leaving your bottom lip red as a cherry.

Kaz had been at your side in a minute, Nina and Wylan right behind him. Wylan kept your hair away from the sides of your face, Nina slowed your heartrate and Kaz wet a cloth with cold water to get your body temp down.

Kaz had forced himself to stay in the moment, to not let his thoughts stray to the urge to sleep in the same bed as you to make sure that nothing happened while you slept--to be there in case something did--but to stay on the sun as it set and the faraway sound of Wylan playing his flute with the window open so that you’d be able to hear it.

Once you’d gotten settled under a tree, Inej ran off, making her way inside and up to the barns roof, where she sat, keeping a watch from a distance as Kaz let you rest your head against his shoulder, gloved hand interlaced with yours.

“I love you, Brekker,” you murmured. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.”

“I won’t,” he whispered. “You’re gonna stay around and get better until we can spar again, and you can beat my ass even though I’ve my cane as a weapon.”

“You know full well I can’t promise that,” you wished that you could. You desperately wished. “I’m going to die young, Kaz. I’m not gonna get to eighteen, much less eighty.” Kaz hated you for that.

He hated you because everything that you said somehow managed to be right. It was like you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and while, on missions, it proved useful, in that scenario, it just proved annoying.

“You’re gonna make it to eighteen if it kills me,” he informed you. “I’ll take you around the globe if I need to, just to make sure you end up okay. I will not live a life without you in it, Y/N.”

“You’re sweet,” you murmured. “Incredibly sweet.”

“Only to you, L/N.” That was the last bit of conversation for a long while as the sun set and the stars came out.

“Did you know that the moon isn’t circular?” You pointed lazily to it, bright and beautiful amongst the even brighter stars. “According to scientests, it’s actually shaped like a lemon!” Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

Of course you’d be spouting off the little factoids you knew about space. You loved it, how vast and crazy it all seemed.

“And that the clouds at the center of the Milky Way smell like raspberries and rum?” Kaz snorted.

“Okay, now, theres no way that ones true!”

“Oh,” you leaned up, booping his nose without a care in the world. “But it is! It’s in a study somewhere, I think! Look it up!” He laughed, pulling you closer to him as you rambled.

Inej had started doing running flips across the roof, spinning and dancing and no doubt laughing as she did. Kaz knew it was an elaborate effort to get you to smile, and it seemed to work as she moved; a delightful silhouette amongst a star filled sky.

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you whispered. “You don’t need to say it back, but I really, truly do love you with every bone that exists in my body.”

“I love you too,” he said it without hesitation. “And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey, I swear it.”

“Don’t hold me to that promise,” you murmured. “You know how bad this is. Stop thinking that I’ll make it into the new year. I probably wont.”

“You will if it kills me, Y/N,” he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drain the bank dry if I have to, I swear to Ghezen.”

You didn’t say anything after, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with him, simply not wanting to.

But then, an hour later, Kaz felt fear trickle into his stomach like it hadn’t ever in his life.

“And then theres Supernova. It’s like a star that’s dying having it’s last celebration. Like when we get a really big win, or when we get away with what we intended to get away with, and we all get shitfaced before we collapse onto our beds and sleep for the night? A supernova is a dying stars explosion. It’s the last celebration that the star has before it dies out.” you’d been rambling.

“Tonight is my... tonight is my...” Kaz had called for Nina right then and there, screaming her name while he felt you go slack against him.

“Zenik!” He screamed, not caring at all if he were to wake up Jespers father. “Zenik, call in that fucking favor with the bloody Ravkan prince!” Matthias came barreling out after her, phone in hand, already speaking to someone as Nina began working, steadying your heart and trying her hardest to keep you alive.

Kaz had to force himself to walk away from it all, pushing his feet away after giving your shoulders one last squeeze and walking far out into the field.

Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he couldn’t stop himself. Tears flooded his eyes and he found himself glaring at the sky, wanting to scream, wanting to shout, wishing that there was someone around that he could gut like a fish.

“Saints,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Sankt Ilya, Sankt Adrik, Sankta Alina of The Fold, I know I am a terrible person, but Y/N is not. They’re good, they smile, they laugh, they’re kind to others when those people probably don’t deserve their kindness. I know I’m damned, I know that you probably strongly dislike me, but they’re different.” He’d never asked the Saints for anything before, and he never would again.

“Please, just, let them live. Let them get the life that they deserve. I’ll do my best to make them happy, but you have to let me,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as they came. “They deserve the life that you’re so willing to take away, and all I ask is that you don’t take it.” He heard the sounds of the ambulance car and raced back to you, gripping your hand as they helped you onto a stretcher and out of the field, through the house and out the entrance.

I won’t lose them, he told himself. A world without them is one that’s unbearable.

O N E Y E A R L A T E R

You laughed as Nina chased you through the halls of the Little Palace, running quickly through the endless corridors, your laughter carrying through them as you kept yourself in front of Nina.

Nikolai had kept you in the Os Altan palace since that night, where Inej laughed and danced and did her flips, whilst Wylan played the piano and Kaz sat beside you, listening to your ramblings without a care in the world.

“You seem delighted,” Nikolai noticed as you stopped in front of his office. “I’ve never seen you walk without that Brekker boy at your side, much less run while Zenik is on your tail!” You shrugged, laughing as Ninas front crashed into your back.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a year,” you murmured. “I figured I’d see if Nina was up to chase me around this morning, and I haven’t stopped running since!” You peered in through the open office door, looking for that familliar mop of dark brown hair.

Nina wrapped her arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be here any minute,” she murmured. “He and the boys are just finishing up a job for Nik in East Ravka, but Matthias told me the second that they’d left!”

“Trust me. Y/N,” Nikolais smooth voice murmured. “I put them on one of my fastest boats. I knew how long it’d take them to get from here to east Ravka and back, and I promised him he’d be here when you finally awoke.”

“Hows it feel, anyway?” Zoya appeared at his side. “Eighteen, I mean.” You shrugged.

“I miss Kaz,” you murmured bluntly. “I hate that I have to tell him that he was right, but I still miss him.”

Nikolai took Zoyas hand, pulling her close as you and Nina watched, smiles on your faces.

“Young love,” Zoya teased. “Zenik, let go of them so that they can turn around.” Nina obeyed, letting you go and moving to lean against the doorway with Nikolai and Zoya.

You turned, and smiled when your gazes met. “You were right, Brekker,” you murmured, walking toward him as he held out your gift to you. “I’m better now, and the second that you’re ready to spar, I’m gonna beat your ass, even though you’ve your cane as a weapon.” He grabbed your pinky with his the moment you were within distance.

“How’d the heist go?” You murmured once the two of you had walked out of earshot.

“Good,” Kaz let himself be close to you as you two moved, squeezing your pinky as you slowed your steps. “Plan went off without a hitch, for three idiots and a mastermind with a limp. I brought you this from it,” he held the gift out to you again, and you took it in your free hand, examining it.

“I had to ask permission for that,” he murmured. “I had to get the Ravkan kings seal of approval to steal that for you.” You laughed, looking it over.

It was a journal. Black and leather bound, pages crisp and untouched. A pen was tucked into the cover.

“I promise, we’ll go home soon,” you responded. “I miss Ketterdam. I could go for some waffles.”

“Don’t they have waffles here?” Kaz questioned.

“Not Ketterdam waffles, love. Ketterdam waffles are unlike any pathetic waffle from here! Doused in syrup and whip cream--” You let out a satisfied sigh. “So good it’s almost surreal!” Kaz smirked.

“Waffle date when you’re well enough to return home then?”

“Certainly.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #platonic inej ghafa x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #waffles

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Text

the before, the after, the in-between

Chapter One: white daisies Words: 2.9k

Relationships: Jon & Daisy, Jon/Martin Tags: Post-Canon, Scottish Safehouse, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mute Jon, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies

Summary:

There was no knife, no blood, and Jon was not dead. And when he heard a strangled noise from beside him and looked over to see Martin standing in the doorway of the safehouse, flung open and letting in the frigid bite of near-winter and sunlight, there was sunlight, he felt such a dizzying, intense wave of relief that he could hardly breathe around it.

Then, he opened his mouth to say Martin’s name, and nothing came out, and all of the relief fell away in an instant.

Jon wakes up in the safehouse in October of 2018, alive and well but without the Eye and without his voice. In the days that follow, he finds himself confronted with a world that has reset itself in space and in time, a version of himself that is no longer the Archivist, and the fact that death during the end of the world had not been so permanent as it had seemed.

Read on Ao3 (link in source)

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(cw for mentions of knife violence, mild blood)

There are white daisies on the kitchen table.

They’re what Jon saw first when he opened his eyes, awake and gasping for air, sprawled on his back on the floor and staring up at a brown ceiling and a brown kitchen chair and the bottom of a brown table and, amidst it all, a splash of white that caught his eye. He stared at the flowers, a memory tickling at the back of his mind—Martin cutting the flowers from a patch just outside the cottage, tucking them into a vase on the center of the table, Jon running a finger along the waxy petals and whispering, Daisies for Daisy—and then, with a rush, the rest of the memories came flooding back and he sat up so quickly his head spun, his hand going almost instinctively to his chest where the knife was—

But there wasn’t a knife. He was in the safehouse and there were fresh-cut daisies in a vase on the table and there was no knife. There was, however, when he pulled his jumper up to look, a scar—thick and raised, like it had been there for years.

There was no knife, no blood, and Jon was not dead. And when he heard a strangled noise and looked over to see Martin standing in the doorway of the safehouse, the door flung open and letting in the frigid bite of near-winter and sunlight, there was sunlight, he felt such a dizzying, intense wave of relief that he could hardly breathe around it.

Then, he opened his mouth to say Martin’s name, and nothing came out, and all of the relief fell away in an instant.

There are still white daisies on the kitchen table less than two days later, when Jon has fallen apart and picked himself back up again and fallen apart and picked himself back up again, more times than he cares to count. He sits in the hard wooden chair, legs crossed and elbows resting atop the varnished wood, and stares at the flowers, still as vibrant as the day they were picked nearly… six months ago? He wishes he knew how long it’s been, but he can’t. He can’t Know, and the Eye is gone, and he can’t speak, and his tears are soundless as he buries his face in Martin’s chest and grapples with the fact that for the first time in years, he’s never felt quite so human.

Martin thinks they’ve gone back in time. Jon thinks that time has caught up to them. Like the world, stitched back together and made anew, has simply picked up where it left off, unaware of how deeply scarred its inhabitants have become. Though Jon really doesn’t think it matters much at all.

It’s not the first argument they have. And it certainly will not be the last.

For now, though, Jon stares at the daisies, one hand tap tap tapping the cheap ballpoint pen on the moleskine notebook Martin had given him and the other wandering down to his left calf, where bite marks as wide as dominoes sit in even rows across his skin, scarred up before they’d even reached the next domain.

He rubs a thumb over one of the raised scars—the second set that had been left on his body by the same hands, both born from violence yet so distinct and different in Jon’s mind—and thinks, with a twinge of something deeply longing, I miss Daisy.

He’d missed her in intervals after he’d collected the bite mark scars on his calf. There had been so much to think about, so much to focus on, but in the quieter moments, he would think about the fact that she was gone—really, truly gone, in a way he couldn’t explain away like he could their first time in the safehouse—and feel the loss as acutely as a knife in his side. (Though now that he has experience with that specific brand of pain, he knows that the feelings aren’t quite the same. A knife is sharp and cutting, radiating pain. That ache was deeper, and it settled next to his bones, preparing to make itself at home within him forever.) Now, there is sunlight streaming in through the lattice windows and Jon closes his eyes when he sleeps and fear is as dull as a butter knife, and there is no limit to the moments of quiet. He looks at the white daisies, and he aches.

“Jon?” Martin says quietly, and Jon startles, still unused to not Knowing when somebody is near to him before they announce themselves. “Is… is everything all right?”

Jon nods reflexively, then bites his lip and slowly shakes his head. He looks down at the table for a moment before flipping open the moleskine, uncapping the pen, and scratching words neatly on the next available line despite the way his hand shakes ever so slightly as he writes. I miss Daisy.

He holds up the notebook, and Martin steps closer until he can make out the cramped words on the page. His forehead furrows like he hadn’t been expecting it, but after a moment, he says softly, “Me too.”

Jon gives him a flat, disbelieving look, and Martin sighs. “Okay, maybe I don’t. At least, not- not like you do. But I… I know you cared about her, Jon. I know she was there for you when I- I wasn’t, and I… I wanted to meet the version of Daisy that you pulled out of that coffin. Really meet her, I mean, without all of the loneliness and fog and- and end-of-the-world drama.” A corner of Martin’s mouth turns up into a sort of unhappy smile. “I guess I miss what could have been, then.” Quieter: “I’m sorry. I know that she… she meant a lot to you.”

Jon nods once, folding his hands together on his lap and worrying them together. He opens his mouth, then closes it with a frustrated sigh and reaches back for the notebook. Hastily, he scrawls, I think she would have liked you. Then: I wish you could have met her too. Then, hesitantly: I told her about you. I talked about you a lot. She never understood why I left you alone with Lukas, but she respected my decision to do so.

He holds it up, and Martin’s eyes scan the page quickly. Jon can see the moment Martin reads the last line, the way his jaw tenses and his throat bobs as he swallows. “Only nice things, I hope,” he says after a moment with a bit of forced cheeriness.

Jon exhales loudly through his nose—a breathy laugh, the only kind he can manage anymore—and shrugs.

Martin’s lips twitch into a smile, but it quickly folds under the pressure of the troubled look upon the rest of his face. “I’m glad that you had her,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry you lost her.”

She had me as well, Jon scratches, holding it up for Martin to see. Then, his train of thought continues and he holds up a finger, pulling the moleskine back down to the table and inking a few more lines onto the page. It was hard to be human, but we helped each other. I wish I could have helped her during the apocalypse, and I wish I could help her now. It hurts to know that she could have had this, truly separated from the Hunt, but that she wasn’t given the chance.

He holds it up, trying to keep his hands steady as he gives Martin time to read through it. Then, Martin takes the moleskine from him and sets it carefully on the table before folding Jon’s hand in his and squeezing gently. He rubs his thumbs across the back of Jon’s knuckles as he says, “I know, love. I know.” He lifts Jon’s hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to it. His lips brush against the back of Jon’s hand as he says, “Would you… would you like to do something for her? A memorial, or- or something to remember her with? I know there wasn’t much of a chance to do so back when—back before, and it… it might help.”

Jon looks down at his lap, considering. He knows that Daisy is gone; he doesn’t know if this would make the ache in his chest lessen or grow tighter, and to do nothing and stay the same feels like the safer of the two options. Then, he catches a glimpse of white out of the corner of his eye—the daisies, sitting on the table, vibrant and alive and glowing slightly in the bright sunlight—and, eyes still locked on those waxy petals, he nods.

“Okay,” Martin says quietly. “All right.”

They stand atop one of the grassy hills close to the cottage, a thick scarf wrapped several times around Jon’s neck to keep away the cold and his mittened hands holding the bouquet of cut daisies, their petals fluttering and stems bowing in the wind. The moleskine is tucked away in his coat, but he hasn’t used it since they arrived out here. Martin’s arm is tucked around Jon, hand resting on his opposite hip as he pulls Jon close to his side, and they’re both silent as they stare out over the grassy knolls, peppered with orange and white cows and brown pickets with wire strung between them.

Jon takes a daisy from the bouquet, holding it carefully in his hand lest it blow away too early, and watches it wave back and forth in the wind, flimsier without the support of the rest of the flowers. He remembers calling Daisy’s name with dirt clustering at the corners of his mouth and filling his nostrils, feeling terror grip him as the soil around him began to shift and move, rivulets of water trickling into his eyes and stinging as he tried to blink them away. He recalls the relief, all-consuming and so potent he thought he would choke on it (if he hadn’t already been choking on dirt, so much dirt, soil and clay and sand and gravel all mixed as one), when she had called his name in return. He takes a deep breath in, lets it out, and releases the flower, watching it catch in the wind and be carried away, down the hill and out of sight.

He pulls another flower out of the bouquet and thinks of the way Daisy’s hand felt in his when he finally made contact, fingers calloused and rough and fingernails ragged and caked with dirt. Her grip was so weak, muscles unused to the trial of being made to grasp and cradle and hold, but she held on as the dirt pressed down on them and they struggled to breathe and, still, with their lungs compressed and weary, they used them to form words. He thinks about not alone, though, not alone, and lets the flower go, watching it tumble away on the breeze.

He pulls another flower and thinks of when Daisy said that she’d planned to kill him, and how he wasn’t even able to muster up the energy to care.

The petals on the next flower are wet. For a moment, Jon thinks that it’s started raining and he just hadn’t noticed. Then, he feels Martin’s hand brush against his cheek, wiping away the next few tears with his thumb, and his next breath rattles in his chest.

He remembers being with Daisy in his office, him sitting in the chair behind his desk and her standing in the corner, trying to remember what it felt like to be vertical. He remembers sitting across from her at a sticky pub table, his hands wrapped around an equally as sticky mug of beer as she pulled a surprising amount of laughter out of his mouth. (He suspected that the warmth running through him by the end of the night was only partially due to the flush of alcohol in his system.) He remembers sitting on a now-ratty cot in document storage, one earbud in his ear and the other in Daisy’s as they leaned against the wall, thighs pressed lightly together and hands clasped in a way that felt easy, his nose wrinkling as The Archers played tinnily through the earbuds. He remembers being slumped against the brick wall behind the Institute, cigarette held between two shaking fingers as he tried to pretend like the nicotine would satisfy the burning hunger growing within him, and the shoulder that had pressed firmly against his as Daisy had slid down to sit next to him, a similar sort of hunger clawing relentlessly within her as well. He remembers standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom in the Archives, staring at his own eyes and wondering if they looked just a bit greener today, just a bit less human, and finally walking back out to see Daisy leaning on the wall next to the door, her voice leaving no room for argument as she said that she’d bought a bottle of whiskey and they were going to share it between them. He remembers lying on one of the cots and staring at the darkened ceiling, hearing her breathing deep and even beside him, one thin arm slung over his chest, and thinking about how much stronger than him she was, that she would rather die than be who she was before. (She never thought he was a monster. He hadn’t quite believed it, but he had been grateful for it all the same.) And he remembers what it felt like, slipping into the tunnels beneath the Institute and leaving Daisy and Basira behind to deal with the chaos that lay above ground, unable to shake the horrible, sickening feeling that it was the last time he would ever see Daisy.

Their last night together had been spent listening to the historical podcast that Jon had managed to convince Daisy to try. He thinks she only put up with it as long as she did because she spent much less time listening to the hosts and much more time listening to him talk over them, supplementing their research with his own and going off on long, rambling tangents that more often than not ended up a few subjects away from history. She never minded when he rambled, and he never felt that choking, itching feeling at the back of his throat that caused the words to die halfway through a sentence that he so often got when he felt that he was boring those around him.

They hadn’t even gotten to finish the episode they were on.

Jon remembers it all, and he lets the flowers go one by one, watching them tumble away down the hill until his hands are empty, hanging uselessly in the air for a moment before he drops them limply to his sides. He knows he’s crying in earnest by now, and he hates it. It’s a terribly vulnerable feeling, to be mourning out in the open, and he hates it. His breath hitches in his throat—he would choke his words if he could form them—and he hates it.

He hates it, but he doesn’t stop Martin when he wraps his other arm around Jon and pulls him gently into his chest, whispering soft platitudes into Jon’s hair as Jon buries his face in Martin’s scarf to hide his tears. Martin’s hands rub circles across Jon’s back and his lips press against the crown of Jon’s head and he whispers, “It’s all right, love. It’s all right,” and Jon allows himself one abrupt, hiccuping sob before he pushes all remaining sounds deep within him where they cannot escape.

And down below, near the base of the hill, the daisies lie scattered amongst the grass and the bushes and the weeds, like the first flakes of winter snow.

There are daisies on the kitchen table again. These ones are yellow, collected from the garden in the back before the frost has a chance to set in and wither them. Sunlight makes dappled patterns across them as Jon sits at the table and drinks tea for the third morning since he found himself able to do so once again, made with no milk and two sugars just as he likes. He can hear the gentle rumble of water from the bathroom, his own hair already shower-damp and pulled back into a loose braid. The jumper is Martin’s, too large and draped over his hands where they wrap around his mug, and the kitchen smells of tea and daisies and home. If Jon closes his eyes and shuts off his mind and focuses only on the seep of heat into his palms and the brush of fabric against his arms, he can almost pretend like everything between before and now had been a dream.

Almost.

Jon takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and takes a long sip of his tea. He’s halfway back to setting the mug on the kitchen table when there’s a creak, a rattle, and a burst of cold air as the front door of the cottage swings open.

The mug slips out of Jon’s hands and knocks sideways on the table, spilling tea across the varnished surface and rolling dangerously close to the edge before its handle strikes the table and brings it to a halt. He distantly registers that his jumper sleeves are stained with tea and that the puddle is seeping towards him, preparing to drip off the edge, but the thought is buried beneath an icy wave of shock as he stares, wide-eyed, at the open doorway. At the figure standing within it.

Daisy stares back, eyes wide with surprise, face streaked with mud and blood, one hand still on the door handle, and says, “Jon?”

#tma #the magnus archives #jaisy-week #jonathan sims #daisy tonner #martin blackwood #my writing #my fic #ehe here we go! jay's second iteration of a post canon fic #otherwise known as 'the miraculous ladybug au' ajdhjlgak #before tag

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dontcare77ghj · 3 years

Text

Now In Color

Wanda x reader x Vision

After Wanda and Y/N's newly discovered pregnancies, the three had decided to call Westview's doctor for a home visit.

Doctor Neilson was a balding man, who's opinions were on the misogynistic side.

"Yep! Definitely pregnant. Both of you." The doctor determined after having pressed a stethoscope to both women's stomachs.

"Believe it or not, we actually figured that out already," Y/N said, shaking her head once the man's back was to her.

"This has just kinda taken us by surprise," Wanda explained, one hand clutching Visions and the other on Y/N's thigh.

"It's just kinda sudden. Quite suddenly, wasn't it. I mean, practically overnight. I mean, how did this even happen?" Vision stammered, causing the doctor to stare at him blankly.

"You see when a man, a woman, and a woman love each other very much."

"Well, we're just tickled pink or blue!" Wanda joked, interrupting the doctor, as the three rose from the couch.

"You're at about four months now. Is that accurate for the two of you?" He asked, receiving nods from both women. "I thought as much. We like to let the little ladies keep tabs on their growing babes with fruit." Neilson told Vision. "Makes it simple for them. At four months, the fetus is about as big as a pear. At five months, papaya. Six grapefruit, seven pineapple, and eight honeydew."

"So we both have pears?" Y/N questioned.

"You both have pears." The doctor confirmed with a nod. "The three of you must have been planning for months to sync the pregnancies up like this." He added with a chuckle.

"Hypothetically speaking, what size fruit would it be at say twelve hours?" Vision asked, causing the doctor to blanch.

"Pardon? Twelve hours?"

"Well, I think this line of questioning is fruitless." Wanda cut in with a forced polite laugh as she moved to stand beside the doctor.

"Hypothetically speaking, should we be concerned?" Vision asked, rounding the back of the couch, holding Y/N's hand in his.

"Hypothetically speaking, every new father-to-be gets nervous." The doctor patronized, slapping a hand on Vision's neck.

"Well, I have nerves of steel, so there goes your theory, Mr. Doctor." Vision said, pulling away from the man.

"Vis, why don't you see the doctor out?" Y/N suggested, wrapping her arm around her husband's waist.

"That sounds like a great idea." Wanda agreed, nodding at the two with a smile.

"Of course." Vision nodded. "Thank you so much for dropping by Doctor Neilson." He said, leading the doctor out of the house as Wanda and Y/N smiled at one another.

"Well, I'm just glad you caught me in time." The doctor commented once outside. "I'm taking the wife on vacation this afternoon."

"Oh, well, I hope you have a nice holiday," Vision told the man. "Hey, Herb!" Vision called to their neighbor.

"Listen, can you keep the news of the girls, you know, just between us?" Vision asked the doctor. "It's that everything's happening so quickly, and we'd like to keep the news just in the family now."

"Of course. Mum's the word." The doctor assured. "I'm off! Bermuda, baby!"

"Yes." Vision waved Neilson off before he was distracted by the loud sound of machinery to his right. "Hey Herb, I think you might've taken the hedge-trimming a little too far there, old chum!" Vision joked, watching as his friend cut into his brick wall.

"So, I have." Herb laughed, continuing his brickwork. "Thanks, buddy."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Vision said slowly, gnawing on his lip before turning away. "Huh. Darlings, the strangest thing just happened outside with, whoa Nelly!" Vision exclaimed when his wives turned around. "Are you both bigger?"

Wanda turned to look at her stomach but knocked the fruit bowl as she tried.

Vision sped over and caught the fruit before it hit the ground.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, looking down.

"I can't actually tell from this angle," Wanda said, gazing down.

"I can't even see my feet." Y/N sighed, looking up and at Wanda's own stomach. "Oh, God." She said, causing Wanda to look up.

"Yeah, we could be a little bigger." Wanda nodded, seeing the size of Y/N's stomach.

"I can't wait to be a proud papaya." Vision joked, proudly holding up the papaya.

"Not one of your best, Vis," Wanda told him with a grin.

"Ah, so you're admitting I'm funny?" Vision asked as Y/N took the fruit out of his hand and moved towards the kitchen.

"I don't think she ever said that." Y/N teased as Wanda followed her and stole the papaya out of her hands. "I'm not even sure those words have ever been uttered before."

"I've heard you laugh at my jokes before. At least once."

"That's because we didn't want to make you feel bad," Wanda said, cutting the papaya into small chunks.

"The first lesson we'll ever teach you, little ones, is to pretend that your daddy is funny," Y/N said to her bump, one hand on Wanda's.

"That seems rather dramatic, don't you think, darling?"

"No." Both women responded teasingly.

"You know what we should start soon?" Wanda questioned. "A nursery."

"I've noticed there are a large number of stores in the town square that cater towards babies and first-time parents." Vision informed the two.

"That's great! Perhaps we could go after lunch." Wanda suggested, snacking on the fruit before her.

"We'll need to make a list," Y/N suggested as she made herself a sandwich. "Of furniture, clothing, books, everything we'll need."

"I could write the list while you and Wanda have lunch." Vision proposed.

"That sounds like a plan." Wanda smiled at him sweetly.

"I'm gonna make myself a coffee first. Do you want a tea, Wand?" Y/N asked, grabbing a coffee cup.

"You might want to make a tea for yourself," Wanda said. "We can't have coffee while we're pregnant."

"None at all?" Y/N asked with wide eyes, causing both partners to nod. "You are so lucky I love you, little one," Y/N said to her bump.

Hours later, the three of you had returned from your shopping trip and were beginning to set up the nursery.

Vision was sat on the rocking chair, reading one of the many books on pregnancy he'd bought. Y/N was organizing the boxes of baby clothes, all of which everyone agreed they'd needed. And Wanda was using her magic to set up the rest of the room.

The three of you had had a long conversation about the theme of the nursery, which room they would have, and whether or not you would need one or two. Eventually, the three of you had come to an agreement on the nursery's theme. And you had all decided that the babies could share a nursery.

"Nesting, the overwhelming urge during pregnancy to clean, organize and prepare the home for the new baby." Vision read.

"See? You're an expert already. We've got nothing to worry about." Wanda assured, floating a mobile out of its box.

"We have nothing to worry about? We have two babies due at the same time." Y/N said, folding a purple baby grow. "They're gonna team up against us."

"We also have to worry about morning sickness, mood swings, aching backs and feet." Vision read before jumping out of the chair. "Darlings, you should probably sit down."

"Don't be silly. We're fine." Y/N soothed the android. "Women do this all the time. This is a natural part of life."

"We're excited, Vis," Wanda said as Y/N moved to stand beside her. "There's no morning sickness or mood swings, just excitement. And happiness, and, oh!" Wanda gasped. Y/N's stomach had brushed against hers, and suddenly, both women felt kicking.

"Kicking already?" Vision asked, dropping his book and pressing one hand to each woman's belly.

"It feels so weird. In a good way." Y/N smiled her hand atop Visions.

"It's kind of fluttery." Wanda giggled, her eyes shining with happiness.

After Wanda said that, the three noticed a quiet flapping sound in the room and turned to see the butterfly mobile had turned into real butterflies.

"Did I do that? I didn't mean to." Wanda said as Y/N reached out for a blue butterfly.

"Uh? Darling?" Vision asked, leaning his nose out, where an orange butterfly sat. "Hello, little fella." Vision chuckled as Wanda moved it off his face. "Well, if that was the first kick," He started as Wanda opened the window, and Y/N caused a gentle breeze to push the insects from the room. "That puts you two at about six months!" Vision gasped.

"And I thought you had super speed," Y/N commented, closing the window.

"I just can't keep up." Vision sighed. "Please don't misinterpret." He said as Wanda moved to stand before him. "I can't wait to meet you, little Billy!" He cooed, leaning down to Wanda's stomach.

"Billy?" Wanda asked, her nose scrunching up.

"Yeah. I just figured with two pregnancies, the odds of having a boy are at fifty percent." Vision informed her.

"Well, I was just thinking Tommy for a boy. You know, a nice classical, all-American name." Wanda explained.

"Yeah, Tommy, but there's also Billy, isn't there?" Vision said, causing Y/N to giggle.

"After Shakesphere?" Y/N questioned, raising a brow.

"Of course! You know, "All the world's a stage. All the men and women, merely players." Vision quoted.

"Well, I guess there's only one solution. Leave it to Y/N," Wanda said, and the two turned to the woman who raised her hands.

"I like both names," Y/N said sagely. "But if it's a girl. I like Luna." She told the two.

"Well, we ought to decide soon. I estimate the babies are due, it's not a constant progression, assumingly logarithmic, but were I to graph the fetal development thus far," Vision muttered to himself while Y/N and Wanda shared fruit out of a bowl.

"They're going to be here before you figure it out," Wanda informed their husband.

"Nearest I can conclude is that Luna and Billy,"

"Luna and Tommy."

"Are due Friday afternoon." Vision concluded, looking slightly scared at the revelation.

"In three days?" Y/N gasped, eyes wide.

"Maybe we should sit down," Wanda said, rushing out to the living room with Y/N and Vision at her side.

Wanda and Y/N sat at the kitchen island, nursing cups of tea (to Y/n's disgruntlement) while Vision sat at the dining table, a baby doll in front of him.

"I think we have an understanding." Vision said, staring the doll down. "Start the clock." Vision stated, setting the toy down, and when Wanda pressed the timer, he began to change it at rapid speed. "Done!" He announced, raising his hands.

"A new personal best!" Y/N announced with a grin as Wanda clapped.

"Yes!" Vision exclaimed proudly. "We are nothing if not prepared."

"Ooh!" Wanda gasped, her hand flying to her engorged belly.

"Sweetheart?"

"Darling?"

"Do any of your books talk about this?" Wanda asked, gently rubbing her bump. "It's not painful, but it's strange."

"A tightening sensation?" Vision asked, grabbing a nearby book and flipping through the pages.

"Yep, that's it."

"Yes. Where was it? Where was it? Aha! "Braxton Hicks contractions, also known as false labor, usually starts in the third trimester. Named after John Braxton Hicks in 1875." Vision began to recite.

"Sweetheart." Y/N cut him off as Wanda stared at him unimpressed.

"Sorry." Vision apologized. "Are you feeling any similar sensations Y/N?" Vision asked, rising to his feet as Y/N nodded.

"I just thought it was the baby moving," Y/N told her partners.

"This is excellent! This gives us a chance to work on our breathing exercises." Vision said, now standing before both his wife's. "It should go like this." He added before demonstrating the breathing pattern.

Both women copied his breathing a couple of times, but it didn't work.

"I can still feel it," Wanda told him.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh!" Y/N gasped, her hand clutching onto the counter tightly as the room began to heat up.

"Honey, turning it up a bit too high," Wanda said, fanning herself at the sudden temperature rise.

"I'm sorry, I just got so warm all of a sudden," Y/N said, wiping her forehead.

"Many women experience a change in temperature during pregnancy." Vision said before Wanda let out a loud grunt.

And that was the chaos began.

The kitchen tap began to run on high, the lights flickered, the fridge rattled, and the washing machine shook. All the while, the temperature remained ungodly warm.

"What the Dickens?"

"Oh, it's so warm."

"What is going on?"

"I think we should perhaps abandon the kitchen." Vision suggested, grabbing both women's hands and pulling them out of the moving kitchen.

The three made it into the dining room when the lights began to get brighter and brighter until they all burst.

The three were now standing back to back, hands raised and ready to defend themselves when everything got quiet.

"It stopped," Wanda whispered, afraid if she spoke too loudly, it would start again.

"Good," Y/N said as her body temperature and the room got cooler.

"I'll go check on the neighbors." Vision volunteered before rushing from the house.

As it turns out, the neighborhood did experience the after-effects of the women's contractions.

The weather had changed from a spring day to what felt more like a summer's day.

And many homes had lost their power.

"It appears the whole block is out." Vision informed the two as he reentered the house. "Oh, and be prepared to hear about the abnormal weather change."

"And all that was just from fake contractions." Wanda shook her head.

"Who knows what damage we'll cause when the show really gets rolling?" Y/N asked rhetorically.

"Do you think they know it's our fault?" Wanda asked Vision.

"Our neighbors?" Vision confirmed.

"Well, yes. With all the close calls we've been having, it seems the people of Westview are always on the verge of discovering our secret." Wanda explained, causing both her partners to stop.

"Yes, I know what you mean." Vision murmured.

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Y/N wondered as she and Vision sat beside Wanda on the couch.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hart with dinner. Outside with Herb." Vision mused.

"The thing with Dottie," Y/N added.

"I think there's something wrong here, darlings," Vision told his wives.

"I don't think you're wrong." Y/N agreed while Wanda stared between the two.

"Yes, I know what you mean." Vision murmured. "The truth is, we are in uncharted waters." He said as he and Y/N sat beside Wanda on the couch. "And you know what? I am as anxious as you both."

"We just don't know what to expect," Wanda said, getting nods from both her partners.

"Nope." Vision agreed.

"Will they be human or come out red and gold?" Y/N asked, causing Wanda to smile. "Or will they be a bit of both?"

"If they're anything like their mothers Luna and Billy will be perfect." Vision promised.

"You mean Tommy." Wanda corrected with a smirk.

"Maybe."

Before the argument over baby names could continue, Wanda let out a loud gasp, causing Vision and Y/N to jump to their feet.

"Oh no, darling, are you all right?" Vision gasped, staring at Wanda with panic in his eyes.

"This is a real one!" Wanda exclaimed, leaning back on the couch.

"What?"

"I thought you said Friday afternoon!" Wanda demanded as Y/N kneeled in front of her placed a hand on Wanda's bump.

"Well, I didn't consider that the timings between developmental benchmarks could be quite random!" Vision defended himself as he began to float in the middle of the living room.

"Both of you need to calm down!" Y/N snapped, rubbing Wanda's stomach gently. "Breathe, both of you." She added before demonstrating the breathing techniques Vision had taught them.

Wanda began to follow along, and when both women turned to face him, Vision copied them.

As he centered himself, Vision was able to control his flight and stand on his own two feet. Wanda and Y/N, who needed help up, moved to stand in front of their husband took one of his hands each.

"Better?" Wanda asked, pressing Vision's hand to her stomach.

"Yes, darling, thank you, it's passing." Vision nodded as lightning cracked, and it began to pour in the living room.

"Oh, that's me." Y/N gasped, looking down. "I think my water broke."

"What?" Wanda and Vision gasped, now both soaked from head to toe.

"Why didn't you say you were feeling contractions?" Vision demanded as he pulled both women under a table.

"I wasn't!" Y/N exclaimed before letting out a whine, hand flying to her stomach. "I was fine until I touched Wanda's stomach!" She cried as Wanda took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"Do you think the babies are connected?" Wanda asked as Vision gently placed his hand on Y/N's stomach.

"There is a great possibility." Vision nodded. "It would explain why both pregnancies have been moving at the same rate." He said. "I'm sorry, but is there any chance you could stop the rain, please, darling?"

"I think I'm the one causing this now," Wanda said. "My waters broke."

"Well, I was just reading about the advantages of water birth." Vision joked.

Y/N crawled from under the table, and while knelt on the floor, she flicked her wrists and stopped the water flow.

"Oh, thank goodness." Wanda sighed.

"Let me help you up, dears." Vision said, crawling out of the table and helping both women to stand. "There we are."

"Oh, what a mess." Wanda gasped at the ruined furniture.

Wanda caused the sliding doors to fling open, and Y/N created a wind to dry off the three and their home.

"That's much better." Vision commented. Before he could say another word, both Y/N and Wanda were letting out groans and curling over, causing him to rush forward.

"Sweetheart, do you think it's time to,"

"Call the doctor." Vision nodded, rushing into the kitchen while Y/N pushed Wanda into a chair and sat herself.

"Yeah."

"Yes, I do, dear." Vision said, picking up the phone before slamming it down in anger. "Damn, the phones are down, too. I better run." He said, rushing towards the dining room. "Except he might have already left for vacation."

"What now?"

"At a time like this?"

"Well, in fairness, darlings, the babies are approximately nine months early." Vision tried to soothe the women. "I better leg it. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah." Wanda nodded, breathing heavily through her nose.

"Y/N?"

"We'll look after each," Y/N said with a nod.

"I will be back as soon as I can." Vision promised, pressing a kiss to both women's temples before speeding out of the house.

"Disguise!" Y/N and Wanda called, but Vision was already gone.

"You two really know how to make an entrance, huh?" Y/N joked before a chittering sound caused her to freeze.

"That's coming from the nursery," Wanda whispered, slowly rising to her feet and beginning to make her way to the room.

"Why are you going towards the scary noise?" Y/N quietly asked as she followed after her wife.

The two were slowly tiptoeing towards the room, barely breathing, as they tried to catch sight of the noisemaker.

DING DONG!

The doorbell rang loudly, causing both Y/N and Wanda to jump.

"Don't!" Y/N stopped her wife from getting the door. "No-one knows about this." She said quietly, gesturing to their bumps.

"Oh shoot!" Wanda sighed, rushing to the coat closest and causing two overcoats to float out.

When both women's bumps were significantly covered, Wanda opened the door to reveal Geraldine standing there with a smile.

"Wanda, Y/N, what's up?" She asked, looking the two up and down. "It's one hundred and ten degrees out. Are you making a fashion statement? Didn't you feel the temperature rise?" Geraldine asked, making her way into the house.

"Hi, Geraldine. You know, now is not really a good time." Wanda said apologetically.

"No, no, no, they're foxy. You'll have to let me borrow it sometime. Both of 'em." Geraldine said, talking about the coats both women were wearing. "But first, I gotta borrow a bucket."

"A bucket?" Y/N asked, cocking her head.

"Not to wear, to use." She clarified. "Somehow, all the pipes in my ceiling burst at once, and I gotta bail myself out," Geraldine told the two.

"I think you'll need more than one," Y/N commented.

"Just stay right here," Wanda told the woman. "We might have a couple in the kitchen. Y/N a little help?"

"Of course." Y/N nodded before the two ran off into the kitchen.

"I think they're just under the sink!" Wanda called before letting out a little scream at a painful contraction.

"Guys?"

"Everything's fine!" Y/N called out as Wanda's and her coat changed. "Just stay there!"

"Are you alright in there?" Geraldine asked.

"Yes! Everything's fine!" Wanda called.

"We're just looking!" Y/N added before letting out a loud grunt at her own contraction.

"I'll come help!" Geraldine offered, and Y/N and Wanda could hear her footsteps rushing towards them.

"No!" The two exclaimed.

"No, thank you." Wanda corrected, pulling off her coat, urging Y/N to do the same, and covering her stomach with a fruit bowl.

Geraldine entered the kitchen and made a beeline to the supply cupboard while Y/N grabbed a book from the counter and hid her stomach.

"Would you look at that?" Geraldine asked, turning to face the married women.

"What?"

"Fruit." Geraldine grinned, walking towards Wanda's fruit bowl. "Thank you!" She said, taking an apple and throwing it to herself.

"Well, good luck with the leak," Wanda said as she and Y/N attempted to usher Geraldine out of the house.

"Oh, thank, oh! Say girls, I have got a question for you two!" Geraldine said, moving to the couch. "You know how I've been working that temp job, right?" She wondered, taking a seat. "Well, my boss, Mr. Haddox, he was going crazy yesterday." She began to recount, but neither woman could focus on her words.

Neither woman could focus on Geraldine because right behind her, a stork was stalking around the room.

"Oh, look at me going on and on like you got all the time in the world." Geraldine sighed as she rose to her feet. "Let me go on and get out,"

"Wait, no!" Wanda exclaimed before Geraldine could turn around.

"Tell us all about the temp job!" Y/N demanded.

"There's my girls!" Geraldine smiled, sitting back down. "So yesterday, my boss, Mr. Haddox, was going crazy working on the new slogan for that new breakfast cereal. You know, the one with the little marshmallow moon men?"

"Yeah, of course." Y/N absent-mindedly agreed as she stared at the stork, walking around the living room.

"Right, so it's about ten minutes before the big presentation, and Mr. Haddox has got nothin'. Nothin', that is, except the worst case of hiccups I ever did see." Geraldine continued her story as Wanda tried to vanish the stork.

But nothing happened. The stork didn't disappear in the cloud of red smoke. Instead, the bird flapped its wings almost angrily at the attempt.

"I'm telling you he couldn't get one word out, let a whole pitch." Geraldine laughed. "So I'm trying every trick in the book to help this poor man. I'm hidin' behind filing cabinets and jumpin' out when he least expects it, like, boo!" She exclaimed, causing Y/N to jump and Wanda to scream as she threw an orange at the stork.

"Jesus, you two." Geraldine sighed, clapping a hand to her chest.

The stork had run away after Wanda threw fruit at it, but it was now making loud chipering noises, causing Geraldine to jump to her feet.

"What was that?" Geraldine demanded, looking around the room fearfully.

"What was what?" Y/N deflected, tilting her head to the side.

"Did you not hear that?"

"I don't think I heard anything. Did you, Wanda?"

"No."

"It was like a chattering sound, like, um," Geraldine tried to explain.

"Oh, like a" Wanda made a chittering sound herself. "That was our new icemaker built right into the fridge." She lied.

Geraldine turned to face the kitchen before turning back with a smile.

"Oh! You're fancy." Geraldine complimented, settling back into her seat as Wanda and Y/N chuckled nervously. "Let me get back to this story." She said before launching back into her recount.

It was getter harder for Y/N and Wanda to hide the fact they were in labor. Both women were stifling grunts and whimpers, only managing to do so by clutching the other's hand tightly.

Vision had to be back soon, right?

"So now, at this point, I am helping Mr. Haddox do a handstand under the water cooler because you know why not try a little upside-down action. Drink those hiccups away. And wouldn't you know it, at that moment, in walks the client?"

"Oh no." Y/N gasped as the stork reentered the room.

"Oh yes. Oh yes." Geraldine nodded, oblivious to the bird beside her. "But you know me, girls, I keep my cool no matter what's goin' down. And I look at the client, and I look at Mr. Haddox's feet floating in the air next to me, and I look back to the client, and I say, "Gravity Os, launch into your day, the right way." Geraldine explains with a cackle, not noticing the stork pecking at her fish pants. At her loud laugh and her shifting her legs, the stork runs away, back into the nursery.

"Oh, thank you!" Wanda laughs in relief as Y/N sank back into her chair with a sigh.

"Yeah, and that's what Mr. Haddox said right before he told me to clean out my desk," Geraldine said, taking a bite of her apple.

"Oh, Geraldine." Wanda gasped.

"Surely he didn't fire you?" Y/N asked, shaking her head at the idea.

Despite neither woman really listening to Geraldine's story, she was still their friend. And they would hate for her to be disappointed like that.

"Oh, sugars." Geraldine sighed before a grin fought its way onto her face. "He hired me!" She exclaimed.

"Oh!"

"Congratulations!"

"I landed a promotion!" Geraldine reiterated, standing with a wide smile. "And now that I've gone all corporate, I need some office supplies. Which brings me to my question. Do ya'll still keep those in your spare room?" She asked, moving towards the old spare room, now nursery.

As Geraldine moved towards the open room, Y/N and Wanda jumped to their feet, Wanda putting her fruit bowl down and Y/N dropping her book.

"Because I was hoping you wouldn't mind sharing with your good friend," Geraldine said, entering the nursery. The nursery where the stork had hidden.

"Is that what I think it is?" The woman asked, staring around the room with wide eyes.

"A stork, yes, we can explain," Wanda said but came up blank with an explanation.

"No, the cribs!" Geraldine exclaimed, looking at the two cribs with a smile.

But she never got her answer. Not that she really needed one as Y/N and Wanda let out loud grunts of pain.

"Oh shoot! I think it's time!" Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her bump as she hyperventilated.

"The babies are coming." Wanda panted.

"You're pregnant? You're both pregnant?" Geraldine asked, staring at her friend's now exposed stomachs in shock.

"Oh God, where's Vis?"

Vision was still running around town. One thing he'd forgotten to do before having left home was to check for Dr. Neilson's address.

Dr. Neilson was still at home, dressed for his vacation but under the hood of his car.

"Ow!" Neilson grunted after he hit his head on the bonnet. "Bermuda awaits, and my car decides to poop out right at this moment." He sighed before slamming the bonnet down.

Before the doctor could further complain about the situation, the man jumped into the air as Vision appeared before him.

"Mr. Vision!" He gasped. "Is everything okay with the wives?"

"Yes. Yes, very much so. So long as we hurry." Vision said, grabbing Neilson's arm and hoisting him onto his back.

Without another word, Vision was running home, Neilson secured on his back, not noticing the fact that Dr. Neilson's wife had been sitting in the car.

"But Stan! What about my brand new two-piece?" His wife yelled. But she was talking to no-one.

Vision was already rushing her husband to his home, a home where he would soon be able to meet his children.

Back at said home, Geraldine was panicking. She had had no idea that her friends were pregnant, and now they were about to give birth.

"Okay, Wanda, I'm gonna get you to the living room. Y/N, I'll be right back." Geraldine promised, taking Wanda's arm and pulling it around her shoulders.

"No worries, I'll be fine. I'll just try not to pop the kid out in here." Y/N grunted, sinking down onto the floor as her wife was pulled out of the room.

"Let's get you comfortable," Geraldine said, grabbing pillow's on the couch and attempting to set it up as Wanda sunk onto the floor.

"I think I'm just going to lay down right here." Wanda panted, making herself comfortable on the floor. "Where's Y/N?" Wanda gasped.

"I'm getting her now. I'll be right back." Geraldine promised, propping pillows under Wanda's head before rushing back into the nursery. "Let's get you up, Y/N." She said, gently pulling Y/N to her feet as the woman groaned.

"With Wanda. I need to be next to Wanda." Y/N said through gritted teeth.

Geraldine didn't question Y/N's request as she laid Y/N next to her wife, assuming both women were feeling quite frightened at the moment.

And while that was true, there was something else drawing them together.

The babies in their wombs seemed to be drawn to one another. The babies were connected. And even now, as they were so close to entering the world, they wanted to be near each other.

They needed to be near each other.

"Where's Vision?" Geraldine demanded as she grabbed pillows for Y/N.

"He ran to get the doctor," Wanda explained as the vacuum began to run in the background.

"He'll be here soon," Y/N added with a grunt.

"There's not enough time for that!" Geraldine denied. "You know the breathing, right?" She asked as she began to run around the house. "Girls, I can't hear you!"

But neither woman could respond as the pain was becoming blinding. And it wasn't like Geraldine would be able to hear over the chaos happening around them.

Photo frames were spinning, the fire was roaring, a violent wind was making its way through the house, and both women were screaming.

Geraldine hadn't noticed any of the noise until she was rushing back into the living room and a light fixture crashed onto the table.

"I may be late to the party, but I imagine there is a logical explanation for this," Geraldine said, sitting before the women with a bucket and blankets.

"Oh, it's all perfectly natural!"

"Just like this! Everything's fine!"

"Hey, hey, hey. You are doing great." Geraldine assured. "You are doing great. The two of you are doing amazing. Look at me. Look at me." She demanded before demonstrating the breathing techniques.

"Wanda, I can't do this," Y/N grunted.

"What? No, because if you can't do this, I can't do this. And we're too close to turn back now." Wanda said, reaching over and blindly taking Y/N's hand.

"I'll say it's too late because it's time to start pushing," Geraldine said.

"What?" Both women gasped.

"Wanda, you're crowning," Geraldine informed her. "Are you ready? You're ready. Push. Push, Wanda, push." She cheered as Wanda squeezed Y/N's hand tightly and screamed.

The house was alive as Wanda pushed, and her screams seemed to drown out the chaos in the house as everything reached its craziest.

And when Wanda stopped screaming, and the house went quiet, a new set of cries permeated the walls.

"It's a boy," Geraldine informed the woman as she wrapped the baby up.

"Oh, hi." Wanda cooed as the baby was placed in her arms.

"Oh, Wanda, he's perfect." Y/n smiled, reaching over to grab his little hand.

Before either of you could say another word, the front door was slammed open, and Vision was now standing in the living room with Neilson behind him.

"Did I miss it all?" Vision asked, staring at his wives.

"Nope, you're just in time," Y/N grunted. "Please, someone tell me it's time." She begged.

"I think you're ready to push." Geraldine checked, causing Vision to rush to kneel between his wives and the doctor to move into action.

Y/N's labor was much less chaotic than Wanda's. The only side effect that happened was the wind that rushed through the house before their daughter was born.

"She's gorgeous." Wanda smiled as the baby was bundled up and placed in Y/N's arms.

"Hey, Doc, why don't you help me out in the kitchen there?" Geraldine suggested, wanting to give the three a moment of privacy.

"Everything's happened so fast today. It's like I've been flying." The doctor said as he followed the woman out of the room.

"Well done, girls." Vision said, brushing hair off both women's faces.

"Don't you want to meet your children as yourself?" Wanda suggested. Vision quickly looked around before dropping his disguise.

"You're so strong." Wanda cooed as she handed Vision the boy.

"Do you want to hold her?" Y/N offered their daughter to her wife.

"I'd love to hold, Luna," Wanda said, causing Y/N to smile.

"Hello there, little Tommy." Vision cooed at the little boy in his arms.

"Tommy?"

"Yes, Tommy." Vision smiled, causing both Wanda and Y/N to smile at him before Wanda let out another scream.

"What?" Y/N and Vision exclaimed, staring at Wanda in shock.

Vision handed Tommy to Y/N and rushed to lift Wanda's skirt.

"Oh! Good heavens! There's another baby coming!" Vision cried.

"Billy?" Wanda exclaimed as she handed Luna over to Y/N and began to grunt as the urge to push grew stronger.

"Push, sweetheart, push!"

"Thirty fingers and thirty toes." Nielson commended thirty minutes after the birth of the three children.

Because of Billy's surprise entrance, Neilson had had to triple check that both women were okay and that there would be no more surprises that day.

He had made sure there were no more children on their way any time soon, that Y/N and Wanda could both feed all three babies and that they were both recovering well.

Now Wanda, Vision, and Neilson were each holding one of the babies ea while Y/N lay on the couch, exhausted after the day.

"You've got two healthy baby boys and one healthy little girl on your hands." Neilson complimented.

"Thank you, doctor." Wanda smiled, rocking Tommy in her arms.

"And thank you, young lady," Neilson said, turning to Geraldine with a smile. "I think you might have what it takes to be a nurse."

"Allow me to walk you out, doctor." Vision murmured, putting Luna into her bassinet and taking Billy from the doctor's arms and putting in the bassinet beside her.

"Oh, all right. As long as we actually walk this time." He said, causing a sleepy smile to appear on Y/N's face.

"We do owe you a debt of gratitude," Wanda said as she neared the bassinets.

"Big-time," Y/N murmured.

Well, doctor Neilson, I hope you're still able to make your trip." Vision said, leading the doctor out of his home.

"Ah yes, my trip. I don't we'll get away after all." Neilson admitted with a sigh. "Small towns, you know. So hard to... escape." He said, more to himself, before leaving Vision standing alone.

"Yeah." Vision shook his head before turning back to his home. He was about to reenter the house when he overheard Herb and Agnes hissing to each other.

"What is she doing in there?"

"I don't know."

"Howdy neighbors!" Vision called, causing both people to turn and wave quickly.

"Hey!"

"Howdy!" Agnes called before turning back to Herb. "Did you see her go in?"

"She just went right in."

Vision's curiosity was peaked. Which she were his neighbors talking about?

"Remarkable day we're having, no?" Vision asked, walking over to the two. "Did you lose power too?" He questioned Agnes.

"Oh, sure did." Agnes nodded with a sigh before plastering on a grin. "But, Ralph looks better in the dark, so I'm not complaining."

"Hi, Herb." Vision said, looking at the man strangely.

"Hey, buddy." Herb nodded quickly, lowering his hand just as fast. Both Agnes and Herb were looking at him nervously, and it was unsettling Vision.

"Well, I'll just get back to the girls." He excused himself, turning away.

"Vision!" Agnes called, forcing him to turn back. "Is Geraldine inside your house?" She asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yes. Why?"

"Why are you not tired?" Y/N mumbled, her face pressed into the couch cushions.

"I must just be special," Wanda said, hinting at her powers.

"Not fair."

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," Wanda said, brushing hair off Y/N's face.

"No, I want to stay up."

"You're exhausted, Y/N. Go to sleep. I'll wake you if the babies cry." Wanda promised.

"Okay. I'll just rest my eyes." Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. Wanda gently pressed her fingertips to Y/N's temple and helped her to sleep. Ensuring that she only had good dreams as she slept.

"I gotta say, you two are such strong ladies." Geraldine complimented as Wanda moved back to the bassinets.

"Oh." Wanda tutted, waving the compliment off.

"Can you believe it? Twin boys and a little girl! You know they're going to be the most overprotective brothers when they're older." Geraldine said, causing Wanda to freeze.

Distant memories, memories Wanda had forced to the back of her mind, were resurfacing. Memories of her own twin.

Her own overprotective twin.

"I'm a twin," Wanda mentioned, eyes glazed over. "I had a brother. His name was Pietro." Wanda said, her accent slipping on his name. Wanda turned to stare back at her children with a smile before she began to sing a familiar lullaby. A lullaby her mother had sung to her and Pietro.

"He was killed by Ultron," Geraldine said, causing Wanda to freeze. "Wasn't he?"

"What did you say?" Wanda demanded as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"She's new to town. Brand new." Herb told Vision.

"There's no family. No husband." Agnes added.

"There's nothing wrong with that." Vision said with a shrug.

"No home," Agnes told him.

"What?"

"What did you just say?" Wanda asked, staring at Geraldine blankly.

"I said, you're such strong ladies," Geraldine repeated. "Should I say it one more time for good measure?" She asked, moving towards the couch. Where Y/N was still sleeping, unbeknownst to what was happening.

"Don't go near her." Wanda snapped, stopping Geraldine in her tracks. "What did you say about Pietro?"

"Pietro?" Geraldine questioned, tilting her head in confusion. "Hey, I'll take a shift rocking the babies." She offered, beginning to move closer to the bassinets when the babies started to cry.

"No, I think you should leave." Wanda shook her head, blocking the bassinets from her view.

"Oh, Wanda, don't be like that," Geraldine said, staring at Wanda as if she were the crazy one.

"What do you mean she has no home?" Vision demanded, moving towards his neighbors.

"She came here because." Herb tried to say but couldn't finish his own sentence. "She came here because we're all,"

"She came here because we're all what? What're you trying to tell me?" Vision asked, staring at the two in confusion.

"What is that?" Wanda asked, staring at the pendant around Geraldine's neck.

"What?"

"That," Wanda said as Geraldine held the pendant between her fingers. "That symbol."

"I uh, I'm," Geraldine stuttered, looking towards Y/N, hoping the woman would help her.

"Who are you?" Wanda demanded, moving to block her wife from Geraldine's gaze.

"I don't,"

"She came here because we're all," Herb began to say but stopped when Agnes spun to face him.

"Stop it!" She hissed, staring at him with scared eyes.

"Who are you?" Wanda repeated, staring at the woman in anger.

"Wanda." Geraldine shook her head as she began to take a step back. "I'm. Wanda, I'm," Geraldine stuttered, unable to tell her.

"Well, I better get going. That macrame's not gonna hitch itself!" Agnes said with a smile as she grabbed her bike. She gave Vision a wink as she rang the bell before rushing away.

"Herb?" Vision asked, raising an eyebrow.

Vision wasn't going to back down. He needed answers, but Herb wasn't willing to give them.

"Catch you on the flip side, Vision," Herb said, grabbing his trimmers and rushing back into his home.

Without a second thought, Vision rushed back into his house, his disguise dropping when the door shut behind him.

"Wanda? Where's Geraldine?" Vision asked, rounding the couch to stand beside a sleeping Y/N.

"Oh, she left, honey," Wanda told him, not turning around to face him. "She had to rush home." She added, continuing to rock the babies with a blank face.

Miles away from the Vision home, on the outskirts of Westview, there was a loud crackling that ripped through the air.

The crackling continued until Geraldine was thrown through the electric barrier, and she landed on the ground with a crash.

Within seconds Geraldine's prone body was surrounded by loud noises, and a light covered her form.

She was surrounded.

Taglist is open throughout the entirety of the series.

@x-uglyprincess-x @imthedoctorlove @loveinnoya @unknownalien3388 @bindythedemon @summersimmerus @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @natasharomanoffismywife @mcsteamy4ever @monxpeet @amywinehouseisgod @milleniumloki @buckybarnesplumwhore @kennedywxlsh @drpepperobsessed @madamevirgo @superbsccissorsdeanexpert @itty-bitty-witch @essenceproxima @severusminerva @okkulta @mrscasnovak @niki-is-a-thing @sunshinepower17 @pinkninja200 @el-writes-and-reblogs-stuff @iflostreturntoflynnrider

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bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Night Changes [Epilogue]

Summary: The end.

Warnings: Language, smut, excessive fluff.

Poe always woke to the sound of ocean waves. Many times mixed with the noises Charlie made waking up, her soft cries pulling him from his sleep, or otherwise the sound of you soothing her. He tried to wake before you so that you could sleep in—he still felt he owed you so much time and rest for having to raise her on your own for so long.

Most days, he did naturally awaken before both of his girls. He would spend a few moments admiring you in the golden light of dawn that filtered through the soft linen curtains, enjoying the feel of your body warm against his, before slowly raising to creep from the room and go to Charlie in her nursery.

Today, however, he didn’t need to leave. Charlie was currently asleep in the guest room of their bungalow, a happy home on Yavin-4 that sat right along a sleepy beach. She was spending quality time with her visiting Aunt and Uncle—Rey and Finn. They’d insisted on the sleepover, claiming they wanted practice caring for a baby for when they were ready to have their own. You had hurriedly handed Charlie over, laughing, and wished them luck.

The house had been designed long to ensure most rooms could take advantage of the view of the water; Poe and you were on the opposite side from the guest room. Far enough that they couldn’t hear any crying if Charlie was awake. But Poe trusted his hapless friends, he wasn’t worried in the slightest.

And it meant he got extra alone time with you, uninterrupted.

Settling on Yavin-4 had been a desire you and Poe shared, the decision coming quickly when he first found you on Sorgan and the discussion of next steps came up. Dad was glad to move back, though he did sell his place and had a room next to the guest room, preferring to stay close to Charlie. Combined, the money you inherited from your parents, your brother, the family house you’d sold, and Poe’s money, the Dameron family was more than comfortable to retire and live peacefully on their home planet.

Poe built you a beach house, in a quiet corner of the jungle that was close enough by speeder to a mid-sized town, with a school for Charlie and markets, shops, a cantina. Aside from the occasional distant air traffic, his home was filled only with the sounds of the ocean, the giggles of his little girl and you, his dads' booming laugh. Charlie was nearly three now, and she was the happiest kid, full of attitude and drama but somehow it was so easy to make her smile, and Poe was the best at it. She was a daddy’s girl, you had said, not realizing how much that meant to him to hear.

As he stretched, you gave a soft snore next to Poe and an idea struck him. It had been a while since he’d last eaten you out while you slept, and his cock began to harden at the thought. With careful movements, he shimmied down the bed and ducked his head under the bedsheet, moving between your legs gently. Neither of you ever wore clothing to bed, so it made it easy for Poe to begin kissing your inner thigh as his hands spread your thighs.

When he had you bared, pretty and glistening, he resisted the urge to dive in and instead very slowly began to lap at your folds. Fuck, you always tasted delicious, he really could eat you out for hours happily, drinking you down like a fine wine. He licked at you for a while, his cock pressing into the mattress, only growing harder the wetter you got for him. When he finally pressed one finger into you, he felt you stir and smiled, keeping his movements slow as he gently sucked your clit.

“Shit,” You whimpered, your hips rolling at the same time your hands ripped back the covers, revealing Poe where he lay between your thighs. He grinned up at you, pressing his face harder against your core and licking, his tongue sliding over the sensitive nub as he worked a second finger inside of you. “Poe, I’m so close...”

He growled in response to your words, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars, and he felt the wet convulsions of your orgasm hit, listened to the sounds of your moans. He kept his eyes on your face, delighting in the way your pleasure contorted your expression, your brows furrowed and your lower lip between your teeth. He worked you through the high, swallowing everything you gave him until you collapsed back into the cushions.

“Wow,” You breathed heavily, and Poe crawled up next to you on the bed with a smirk. “Haven’t had a wake-up call like that in a while. Do you think Finn and Rey would stay a few days more?”

Poe laughed, “Actually, I do. They’re obsessed with Bug,” He leaned down and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Now, sweet girl, you think you can take my cock, now that I’ve warmed you up?” He whispered low in your ear, and you moaned in response.

Poe rolled you on top of him, then pushed himself up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard and you were straddling his lap. Your hands automatically traced along the muscles of his chest, tickling slightly when you lowered them to his abs. Once he was settled, you reached down further and took hold of him, grinning when he groaned aloud at the feel of you squeeze his cock, then raised your hips, beginning to sink yourself onto him.

“Fuck, Poe,” Your head lolled back as you worked to take him, while Poe watched you, his hands now gripping your hips. He dropped his gaze to your soft stomach, his mind suddenly moving toward a thought he’d been holding back from you, not sure if it was the right time to bring it up. Things were so perfect, now, that he didn’t want to upset the balance.

But if Poe was being honest, he had been imagining Charlie having a sibling. The idea of making another baby with you, seeing you swell and getting to be there for the entire pregnancy, the birth, had been on his mind a lot lately. Now, as you sat in his lap, his cock fully splitting you, the thought of getting you pregnant made him pulse with desire. He leaned forward and took your nipple into his mouth, groaning as you began to roll your hips.

“Sweet girl,” He sighed, kissing a trail up your chest and neck, “So perfect, always so perfect for me.” He raised one hand to your head, pushing into your hair and gripping you, angling your head to capture your lips against his as he snapped his hips up to meet you.

You whimpered with each thrust, the sounds swallowed by Poe as he kissed you hard, trying to hold back his thoughts, distracting himself. He should have known it would never work on you—you could read him like a book.

“P-Poe, baby,” You pulled back a little, hips slowing, “What’s going on? You’re far away.” Your pupils were blown wide, skin flushed deliciously.

“It’s nothing,” He felt you drop your weight, settling into his lap but stilling your movements entirely. Your hands reached up from his chest to cup his cheeks, and you frowned at him. “Honestly, sweetheart.”

“It’s not like you to lie to me, Poe Dameron,” Your eyes searched his for a moment, then your frown brightened and you gave him a soft smile. “Would you just say it, flyboy?”

He stared at you, “Say...say what?”

You giggled, both of you gasping slightly at the way your cunt squeezed him in response. “I’ve caught you staring at me, a few times recently. Noticed that you get lost in thought, but then just smile and hide it away. I’m your wife,” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “You can say anything to me.”

Poe nodded, dropping his hands to your waist, “I know, it’s just, things are so fucking perfect,” He replied, his eyes locked on yours, “I don’t want to say something that makes you feel like I don’t think it is.”

“You won’t, I promise.”

He bit his lip, gazing at you in all of your beautiful glory; the sun streaming through the open window bathed you in the golden morning light, your eyes bright and every stunning curve bared to him. Why the two of you always found yourselves having serious discussions amid sex, he’d never understood.

“I want another baby—I’ve been thinking it for a while, but I just haven’t been sure how to mention it.” He broke off, glancing away from you to look out at the ocean, the waves fairly calm this morning. You leaned your head down, catching his eyes again, and smiled widely at Poe. His heart stuttered nervously in his chest.

“Oh, my love,” You cooed, brushing one hand through his hair, “Even when we don't realize it, we’re always on the same page. I’d love to have another baby.”

Poe let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, “Are-are you sure, sweet girl?”

Your smile never faltered, the warmth in your eyes so intense he swore he could feel the heat of it—of you. “I’ll go this week to see the Healers, have them remove my implant.” And before he could reply, your lips were on his and you started to roll your hips, clenching tight around him perfectly, deliciously.

Your movements were filled with intent, sending Poe the message that you were serious, that you felt the same. His heart swelled, the happiness flowing through him almost overwhelming—how had he gotten so lucky, with you? He didn’t understand, still to this day, how he deserved you. And yet every day you continued to show him how strong your love was, right down to understanding his thoughts before he did.

“Fuck,” He hissed against you, pressing his forehead into yours as you rode him, “Going to keep you full of my cum, sweet girl, fuck you every chance we get.”

Your whimper was enough to drag Poe towards the edge, that feeling of falling upward in your arms so close he had to quickly lower one hand to rub circles over your clit—he never left you wanting. He punched his hips up, groaning, picturing how you’d look carrying another baby, remembering how horny you had been when you were pregnant with Charlie—

“Poe, I’m cumming—oh,” your legs gave out as you came, the rush of wetness spilling over his lap and Poe came hard, grunting before he slammed your hips down and held you still. You had fallen against Poe, your head in the crook of his neck as you convulsed around him and he filled you deeply, pulsing in your tight heat. His body melted into yours and for just one moment it was like you and he were one, every breath of air from his lungs going into yours until he collapsed back against the headboard.

You stayed curled into his chest, gasping for air. Poe held you, even as he began to soften within, and stroked your hair gently. The breeze off the ocean cooled your sweat-coated skin, but since Charlie was with Rey and Finn, he figured he could coax you into the large ensuite bath for a long, relaxing shower.

“I love you, Poe,” You whispered, your head turning slightly so that you were looking up at him, your head still resting against his shoulder. “I didn’t know life could be like this.”

Poe met your gaze and smiled softly at you, brushing his hand across your face, “Sweet girl, I’m going to grow old with you.” He murmured, pulling you in for another kiss, languid and slow before he would start another day in paradise with his little family.

—

When life had finally settled on Yavin-4 for you and Poe—the house finished, Kes all moved in and Charlie adjusted to the new planet, your husband began to have nightmares.

At first, he never said anything to you about them. He acted as if they didn’t happen, but you were a light sleeper because of Charlie, so you always woke up. He didn’t speak, but he would toss around, whimper, his eyes moving rapidly beneath the lids. You knew he saw Temmin die, other friends too—and Leia, she hadn’t made it either. So many had been lost, and he told you how close it had been, how he almost hadn’t made it himself. He’d been through so much after you had gone to Sorgan, you weren’t surprised he had trouble easing into a life where the biggest decisions were about dinner or who was going to get up in the middle of the night to soothe the baby.

You let it happen for a week, hoping that once he settled in more and realized this was life now, they would fade. But you think his pretending they didn’t exist only made it worse, so eventually, you brought it up—and he’d been upset that he had been keeping you up at night. The war was won; but it didn’t take away any of the pain of losses suffered, the hardships he’d had to endure, and yet he’d offered to sleep in the guest room for a while, so you could get some sleep.

You had dismissed that idea immediately and told Poe that if he couldn’t get a good night’s rest then you didn’t need to either. And that was how it ended up that most nights, he’d wake up in a cold sweat and you would roll over and pull him in your arms and he would talk to you.

Poe would tell you everything that happened.

As the nights wore on, the stories became shorter, funnier, some just small memories from passing moments. But the nightmares became less intense, and within three months, they had stopped altogether. And you knew the details of every single moment of his life while you had been on Sorgan, every fight and sacrifice and close call. His mistakes, his triumphs, his fear—and the love he felt for Finn and Rey, for their friendship and loyalty.

It only managed to bring you closer to Poe, who by day showed only a happy, brave face for Charlie, becoming vulnerable in the dark of night, bare in your arms, whispering his story. The thing was, the amount of honesty meant that it was tough to keep things from one another—you could always read each other; now you could have silent conversations from across a room.

You loved how well you and Poe understood each other, but it was really damn inconvenient right now.

It had been a few months since Poe had told you he wanted another baby. It hadn’t come as a shock to you; you’d been thinking the same, wondering when it would feel like the right time, and then he had started acting strange and you managed to get him to confess, suspecting he was picturing another baby in the mix. Poe was true to his promise of having you all the time—every spare moment he could get, he was on you.

Charlie had been a beautiful surprise. This time, you could have fun with the process, which ended up including some fun dates. He’d fucked you behind the cantina in town during a rare night out for drinks. He brought you on beach picnics and you’d ride him on the sandy shore. You’d excuse yourself to go to the fresher and he’d appear out of nowhere and bend you over the counter, fuck you deep and quick before filling you, smacking your ass before he’d slip back out of the room with his cocky smirk.

It was very sexy. You kept letting it happen even though for a while now it wasn’t exactly necessary. You were twelve weeks along, and so far you’d managed to keep it a secret from Poe. You wanted to surprise him, trusting your curves to hide any physical evidence of the pregnancy. Because he was such a good dad, you were able to sneak away when he was preoccupied with Charlie to hurl or splash cool water on your face to quell a hot flash. You were lucky not to suffer too much from morning sickness, though you know you’d pay for that in the final trimester—when you were pregnant with Charlie, you felt like an oversized womp rat for weeks, barely able to stand, wobbling around, sweating constantly.

Today was special and so you’d saved the news to share. It was Poe’s birthday, something he wasn’t ever big on celebrating making it the perfect occasion to share the surprise. You were sat at the large outdoor table with Poe, Kes and Charlie, feet bare on the warm sand, the sky slowly turning indigo as the sun set below the horizon. Dinner was finished, and Charlie was starting to get sleepy, though she was in the toddler stage where fighting off sleep like it was a wild loth cat was the only way to survive.

“Well, sweetheart, thank you for a perfect birthday dinner,” Poe reached his hand across the table to take yours, squeezing slightly as he gazed at you and Charlie, who was in your lap playing with your hair. “Low key, no presents, just good food and family.”

Kes nodded next to his son, clapping Poe on the back, “Good food and family is what life is all about, that was what your mother believed.”

When Poe turned to his dad to reply, you glanced down at Charlie and grinned, lowering your voice, “Bug, can you do something for mummy please?”

Your clever girl smiled, her eyes lighting up immediately at the idea of helping her mother—she was a sweet kid, “Yep yep yep!” She chirped, her little fists coming up to clap against either side of your face gently.

You leaned your head next to hers and pitched your voice to a whisper, giving her the simple instructions. You repeated yourself to make sure she understood and watched as she began to nod aggressively, her brows pinching together in serious focus. You’re not sure she fully grasped what she was saying, which made it funnier when she climbed off your lap and ambled around the table to tug on Poe’s arm.

Poe glanced around at her, his smile breaking wide, “Hi bug, want some cuddle time with daddy?” He picked her up and settled her on his lap as you watched, trying to hold back your smirk. Kes was watching with a faraway, content expression—you think he had an idea of what was coming.

“No daddy,” Charlie replied, her face still scrunched up and serious, “You listen! Listen.” She repeated, dragging the word out as she glared up at Poe, who chuckled, his eyes seeking yours.

He gave you a questioning look and you shrugged innocently. Charlie reached for Poe’s face, patting his jaw so that he would focus on her, “Okay, Bug, what is it?”

“I am a big sitter.”

Poe arched a brow down at her while you clapped a hand over your mouth to hide your giggle, “A big sitter, Bug?”

Charlie bounced up and down excitedly, “Daddy, big sitter—I’mma big sitter!”

Still frowning, Poe glanced up at you again, this time his expression entirely mystified, “Do you understand her?” His voice was slightly strained with the effort of holding back a laugh at her silliness.

You nodded, grinning broadly across at him before looking at Charlie, “Bug, remember how mummy said the word? Sister—“

Charlie’s eyes widened in understanding, “Sister! Daddy, I’m a big SISTER!” She yelled the last word in triumph, her lips forming the word as Poe brushed some of her hair back from her face fondly. You watched as he froze, his mouth opening in surprise, and then slowly looked back at you.

You gave yourself away because a few tears had slipped out watching the exchange, so when Poe’s eyes met yours understanding flashed across his expression. Kes was the first to speak, his hands clapping together in glee, “That’s wonderful news, Bug! A big sister? Wow!” He swooped out of his seat, plucking Charlie from Poe’s arms, “I think you are nearly ready for bed, and mummy and daddy need some grown-up time—say goodnight!”

“NIGHT!” Charlie yelled, waving frantically while grinning up at Kes. He winked at you before turning to make his way up the beach and into the house, leaving you alone with your stunned husband, who was sitting perfectly still.

“You still with me, flyboy?” You took a sip of water, watching as he stood up from the table, a hand swiping through his curls. He was by your side in a flash, dropping to his knees next to your seat and turning you to face him.

“Sweetheart,” He breathed, his eyes shining with tears, “Are you—really, you’re pregnant?”

You cupped Poe’s face, his stubble tickling your hands, “Happy birthday, Poe. I know you said no gifts—“

Poe cut you off, raising slightly on his hunches to press his lips to yours. When he pulled back, his cheeks were wet, “How far along?” His eyes fell down your body, gazing questioningly, lovingly, at your stomach.

“Twelve weeks.”

“Wow,” He murmured, dropping his hands to run over the curves of your torso, “Sweet girl, this is the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.” His eyes were soft, the honey of them still visible in the light from the candles on your dinner table.

You tilted your head, “Even better than the year Charlie snuck you that vat of Corellian wine?”

Poe barked out a laugh at the memory, “Shit, he and I were drunk for a week straight,” He leaned into you, kissing gently along your jaw as you giggled, “That comes in a close second to this, I think.”

Still laughing, you wrapped your arms fully around Poe and kissed him again. He tugged you off your chair and into his lap, sitting back onto the sand as the inky blue sky shined above with stars and the ocean played its soft melody.

“I love you, Poe.” You whispered, sighing in blissful content.

He held you in his arms and kissed you like it was the first time again, full of passion and emotion. You rolled your hips to indicate you were happy to stay out on the beach for a little while, a soft moan on your lips.

Poe chuckled warm and low, his hands falling to the waist of his pants. “Oh, sweet girl, I love you too.”

A/N: *Sobbing* Thank you so much for reading this series, I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it. Thank you for the reblogs and kind comments, you guys are the best!

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