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bluebellwriting · 4 years ago

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Love Me Tender Part 6

Hey folks! I know it’s been a minute, I’ve been super busy with work and school, but I’m by no means done with this piece and you know I had to post something for Valentine’s Day (to make up for the fact that single and lonely 😆😭)

Despite popular belief, Hell does in fact freeze over. It’s Hell, after all, and in the world of pain and torture, everything is fair game. And it’s February, historically one of the coldest months for you back when you were living and certainly the most miserable in Hell too. The roads are slick with sheets of ice, you can’t walk a block without a three-foot icicle nearly spearing itself through you, and everyone’s car is perpetually trapped in a snowbank thanks to Lucifer’s “generous snow plow program.” Each winter day reminds you of the worst snow cyclones from when you were growing up in Brooklyn, cold yes, but in a way it’s all very sentimental. They remind you of the winter nights cuddled up with your siblings, hot chocolate in hand, listening to the winds blustering against your windows. It’s all rather lovely, in a strange way.

Your boyfriend of four months does not seem to agree, if the way he’s gripping you and nuzzling into your neck is anything to go by. You’ve been trying to extricate yourself from your practically shared bed for the last ten minutes, but each attempt only causes Alastor to pull you closer. He’s basically on top of you now, those boney forearms are stronger than you’d think.

“Sweetheart,” you whisper. “It’s time to get up.”

Alastor groans but otherwise your voice falls on deaf ears.

“Come on, we have to make breakfast and then--”

“But darling, it’s freezing,” he sighs. “And why would I go anywhere when I have my own personal heater right here.”

It’s really hard to stay mad at him, especially when he places sweet little kisses from your cheek to your shoulder and back again.

“Well your personal heater has some errands to run and needs to get her day started.”

“Ugh,” Alastor whines and inch by inch, begins to roll off of you. “How can you even stand to be out in that unbearable cold? Don’t you want to stay right here with me, your loving and adoring boyfriend?”

“You know I would,” you boop his nose. “But then I wouldn’t be able to get your present.”

His ears perk up immediately.

“Present?” He coos. “A present for lil’ ol’ me? Dearest, you shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, but I can’t pick it up until I get out of this bed.”

“Oh fine. I suppose I have some things to do for tonight as well,” he teases and kisses you on the nose before finally allowing you to shift out of bed.

“Although before you leave me,” he whines. “I have a little something to kick off the festivities.”

With a snap of his fingers, a red garment manifests in your arms.

“Oh, Alastor.” You run your hands over the thick velvet of the dress. “It’s lovely.”

“This is just the beginning, love. Now go try it on,” he shoos you off to the bathroom, then immediately curls back up into the comforter to protect himself from the draft leaking in from your window.

The dress is beautiful and warm. As soon as you change into it and assess yourself in the bathroom mirror it hits you that this has to be a customized dress. It fits you far too perfectly and the fabric is so soft, it’s like a blanket heating you up and snuggling you in. It’s either custom or enchanted with Alastor’s magic. Or maybe both, you wouldn’t put it past him to make this the perfect dress.

The last four months together have been a dream. A blissful and rapturous dream that you never want to wake up from. If you thought he was sweet before you began dating, then this is an entirely new level. You two are practically glued to the hip, and he finds a way to make every possible moment so enthralling and exciting that it doesn’t even matter.

Everything about him is just enthralling, and the best part is that he can’t seem to get enough of you either. It makes your face warm and your mouth split into a grin just thinking about it.

You poke your head out of the bathroom door and giggle at the sight of Alastor in his own personal blanket cocoon.

“Comfortable?” You ask.

“I’d be more comfortable if you were here with me.”

“While that sounds tempting, I wouldn’t want to ruin my fabulous new dress.”

He shoots up, blanket still around his shoulders, eyes wide and alert and trained on the way the bodice clings to your curves. It’s even more perfect than he could have expected.

“Do you like it?” He scoots to the edge of the bed and holds his arms out for you to step into.

“I love it.” You smile and step between his legs to fall into his embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you, my love.”

“That’s just the beginning, dear,” he cheers.

“Alastor, you didn’t--”

“Nonsense! It’s our first Valentine’s together and it must be the best of all time!” Ever one for theatrics, with a flourish of his arm the room is filled with red roses.

“Oh my goodness,” you giggle and cup his face in your hands. “You darling man.”

Alastor melts into your hands, letting the softness of your palms warm his cheeks.

“Only for you, love.” He leans forward and nuzzles your nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

If you weren’t worried about getting to the store and back in time, you would have stayed here, exactly like this, for hours more.

“Let’s begin the day, shall we, love?” You whisper.

“But it’s cold!” He whines. “And you’re so warm!”

“Ugh, you’re such a southern boy,” you tease and pull away from him, if only to draw him out of his blanket nest and into the world.

“You love this southern boy,” he laughs and finally rises. With a quick snap, he’s dressed in a redder-than-average suit with one of the red roses on your floor now pinned to his lapel.

He hands you your coat, gloves, hat, scarf, and tries to force another sweater upon you but you stop him before you’re a complete bundle of wool and layers.

---

Charlie must have gotten up early because the entire lobby is littered with hearts and confetti. Chocolates are on every available surface and your fearless leader is currently snuggling with Vaggie in matching heart sweaters. You watch Angel hand Husk a box of chocolates wrapped in a lovely bow. Hesitantly, Husk opens the box and spits out whatever he was drinking all over your brother before stomping away with a red face.

“What did you do to that poor man?” You call over.

“Just gave him an innocent token of my affections,” Angel chimes and shows you the contents of the box: three rows of chocolates with letters printed on each piece, spelling out “Best Dick Ever.”

“Angel, that is so vulgar,” you exclaim.

“It’s the day of love, sis.” Angel pops one of the pieces into his mouth.

“That is not love, my fellow,” Alastor chastises.

“Aww, that’s cute coming from you, strawberry pimp.”

“I’ll have you know that I am plenty romantic,” Alastor says incredulously. “Aren’t I, (Y/N)?”

“You are, love. The most romantic,” you coo. “Now I have to get going. Please be nice, boys.”

“And you,” Alastor leans down to pull your scarf tighter around you, “promise me that you will be careful. You’re sure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, love. I’ll be fine. Angel,” you turn to him. “Be nice.”

“’K, mom,” he calls back to you, waving as you begin your journey into the chilly winds.

“So,” Angel drawls, sidling up to Alastor. “What are you doing for my sister on this ever most sacred day of love and affection?”

“Something special and perfect and I will not have you distracting me,” Alastor sighs and snaps his fingers, transporting himself to his cottage deep in the woods of the Pentagram. Because only a crazy person would want to walk out in that cold. Good thing Alastor loves your kind of crazy.

---

It’s been a while since Alastor has been to his home, his actual home, one that is reminiscent of the large, Queen Anne-style homes of New Orleans. Dust is collecting on the counters and window sills, but that’s nothing that some quick magic can’t fix. The real task at hand is the redecorating and the meal he has to prepare for tonight to be as perfect as can be. This is certainly not the first time that you’ve been to his home but he’s hoping that it will be the last time that he calls it “his home.”

If he had it his way, tonight would be the night that Alastor asked you to marry him, to spend the rest of eternity -- or as long as you’d have him at least -- together in Hell as husband and wife, as partners in crime until the very fabric of the universe began to fray at the seams. He’s known for so long, long before you began your courtship, that he wanted to marry you and it took everything within him not to propose to you on your first date. But he had to be patient, suave, a perfect gentleman, because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off with a hasty courtship and engagement. The last man who had attempted that with you, well, Alastor was still in the process of hunting him down so he could offer you his head on a spit. That was supposed to be the second part of your Valentine’s gift but alas, the wretched soul was more slippery than he had anticipated.

Hopefully you’d be impressed enough by the way he had decorated the house with some of your favorite colors and furniture from the 1940s, things to make it look more like a home you could share and grow into.

---

The beauty about Hell in the wintertime is that there are so few people out on the streets to bother you. The sidewalks and roads are eerily quiet, the snow swallowing up distant sounds so the only ones left is the crunch of your boots. Your trip to Rosie’s had been quick, as the poor woman was overrun with sinners trying to buy up last-minute Valentine’s gifts. As she said to you in passing while gift wrapping some tacky jewelry for a panicked demoness, “good for business, bad for relationships.”

You clutched your gift bag close to your chest, guarding it from any muggers who would even dare steal the most perfect gift for your Alastor. This was weeks in the making and you were not about to let someone ruin your first good Valentine’s Day.

You approached the door to the hotel, already anticipating a warm fire to warm your cheeks and nose, when suddenly an arm is around you and you’re no longer in front of the hotel. No, after blinking your eyes to readjust, you’re now staring at Alastor’s home, which means the arm and body hugging you close belongs to your sweet, adoring, and sometimes startling beau.

“Alastor!” You squeal. “What have I told you about surprising me like that?”

“I’m sorry, love,” he chuckles. “But I just couldn’t have you out in the cold any longer.”

“If this wasn’t a day dedicated to love you’d be buried in snow right now,” you grumble.

“I don’t doubt that, sweetest. Now come on, the fire is waiting for you.”

When Alastor first brought you into his home it was your one-month anniversary. You were actually relieved when it wasn’t a massive mansion like most Overlords pick for themselves, and you couldn’t help but be charmed by the perfectly retro, 1920s decor.

But it’s different now. The living room has new, floral wallpaper and some of the furniture reminds you of... your old home back in New York.

“You redecorated,” you shiver as you allow the warmth of the home heat up your body. Alastor rubs his hands up and down your shoulders to warm you up as soon as your coat and layers have been shed.

“Do you like it?” He asks, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes.

“Oh it’s lovely,” you breathe and inhale, smelling the hot meal he’s probably slaved over. “Just surprising. What brought this on?”

“Oh, just, wanted to try something new. Are you ready for dinner?”

“I’ve been salivating since I first stepped into the door.”

Dinner is delicious, mouth wateringly incredible and cajun. But all throughout dinner you couldn’t help but notice the way Alastor’s knee bounced or the way his hand shook whenever he held his fork to his mouth. Not to mention the eery quiet between you two. You can’t seem to get more than a one-word response out of him. It makes your heart drop, and the way his eyes shift away from your gaze makes a pit form in your stomach.

“Alastor, love. Is everything alright?”

His eyes dart up to meet yours. His teeth worry his bottom lip and you can hear his fingers tapping excessively on his seat.

“Of course, darling. Everything is right as rain. Are you enjoying your food?”

“It’s amazing, Al. It’s always amazing.” You beam at him and reach across the table to hold on to his hand.

“If you don’t have any more delightful surprises for me, love, could I give you my gift now?”

“(Y/N) you didn’t--”

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.”

Reaching down beside your chair, you pull out the perfectly wrapped present and slide it across the table to him.

“It’s not much,” you explain. “But I hope you like it.”

It’s perfect. So perfect, the wrapping, the bow, the very idea that his darling has given him a gift at all, that he doesn’t even want to open it. As much as he wants to tear it open, there’s the urge to keep this moment preserved in his mind forever and ever, just in case his present to you goes south tonight.

But from the way you’re looking at him, eyes wide and hopeful, he knows he has to open it right now.

Inside is a little plastic... view finder? He’s really never seen anything like this. They look like binoculars but there’s a little white disk inside with small film negatives along the circumference.

“It’s a reel viewer,” you explain. “Put it up to your eyes and click the lever.”

So he does. And with each click he’s met with little candids of you and him, some from before your relationship began, some from after, all of them more perfect than the last and preserved forever just for him. His heart swells and warms an overwhelming amount. His joy leaks from his mouth and eyes, until it feels like the sun itself is pouring through his teeth and tears.

“Oh, (Y/N), darling...” he sniffles.

“I know it’s not much but--”

“It’s everything, dearest.” It really is. And more importantly it’s enough for him to get his act together. He feels like he can breathe again, like the fog of doubt has finally been lifted. What was he so worried about? You love him, of course, you love him.

“It’s perfect.” He rises and comes to kneel before you. “More lovely and wonderful than you will ever know. So much better than my gift to you but I hope you will love it all the same. I love it, (Y/N). I love you. So, so very much, dearest.”

“Alastor, I’m going to love anything you give me because I love you, sweetheart.” You peck his nose.

“Yes, well, that’s the thing. Because really, this feels more like just another gift from you to me.”

“Is it now?” You tease.

“It is...” he sighs. “I love you. I hope you never have to doubt that for an instant in your life. And I know this might be too soon, and you can say no for now, or forever, but I have never doubted for a minute that you are the one for me. My gift to you, love, sweetheart, darling dearest, is this.”

He motions to the dining room.

“The... dining room?”

“No, love,” he chuckles. “The house. My house... Our house. If you’ll have it. If you’ll have me.”

You gasp and tears flood your eyes so quickly that you have to blink them away to see Alastor’s hopeful eyes properly.

“You’re asking me to move in with you?”

“I am. I’m asking you to make this house, our home.”

“Oh, Alastor.” You launch forward and wrap your arms around his neck. You press your lips to his in a bruising kiss, letting him bundle you up in his own arms and grip your waist.

You pull way for a brief moment, short enough to mumble out a fervent series of ‘yeses.’

“Of course,” you say between kisses to his face. “Of course, I’ll move in with you.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x Chubby!reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #valentine's day #they say write the stories you want to see

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johannstutt413 · 3 years ago

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(requested by stephenvares; continuing from this)

Less than a month after returning from their honeymoon, Anya noticed something amiss; the next day, a trip to her primary physician told her what she’d already expected: she was pregnant. This was going to be a massive issue back home, no doubt about it...but honestly? She couldn’t care less - she had the Doctor, and it’s not like the Goddess herself minded. Hell, the Goddess was the first person she told, and She’d seemed pretty happy about it. (That was a fun conversation to tell the Doctor about that night, once he’d calmed down enough to do so.) Time passed, Pyara was born, and life was...life was…

Life was exhausting, for both the Doctor and his beloved bride, for the next few months. Paternity leave saved him from his duties with HR, Personnel, and Tactical Deployment (taken up by at least seven Operators to fill the gap), but not from helping Pramanix sort out the complicated situation back home while she took care of their daughter. Sleepless night after sleepless night, week after week. Anya was crankier than ever, and even the Doctor could feel his nerves fraying.

And then, one day, there was peace.

“...Hey, Anya?” The Doctor scritched behind her ear, trying to wake her up. “Aaaaanya.”

The priestess’s eyes popped open mid-snore. “Hrrrrgh. What?”

“Pyara’s not crying right now.”

“She’s not...She’s not? She’s not?!” She rolled out of bed - quite literally, landing face-first as usual - and flailed onto her feet and towards her child’s crib. “She’s...she’s asleep? But normally she’d be awake right now, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I’m confused. Did something happen?”

“I don’t- oh, my Goddess.” It wasn’t an exclamation as much as an acknowledgment; like picking up a phone receiver, Pramanix began to commune with the Goddess on the spot.

“Well, that would explain the miracle.” The Doctor chuckled to himself as he made his way to the kitchen. As good of terms as he was on with the priestess, interrupting her prayer-time wouldn’t end well for him, no matter how much he wanted his morning kiss. “I’ll make some coffee.”

A few minutes later, with a pot half-brewed, Anya emerged from their bedroom with Pyara nestled against her. “Little Pi here is old enough to hear the Goddess; She calmed her down for us.”

“Oh, thank the Goddess - literally,” he declared, looking pointedly at his wife’s bell when he said it.

“You know, She doesn’t do favors like this often,” the priestess noted with a smile. “You should do something nice for Her.”

Well, he knew exactly what that really meant, but hell, he could afford to spoil his wife more than a little. “And what would She like me to do for Her this morning?”

“She told me we should have chicken pot pie for dinner tonight.”

“...That’s it?” The Doctor shrugged. “Cool, that was my plan for tonight anyway. We have an anniversary to celebrate, after all.”

Pramanix blinked. “Anniversary? Don’t we still have a couple months for that?”

“For our paperwork and such, yeah. Not for our first date, though.” He winked at her before starting to pour two cups of coffee.

“Oh. I guess it has been a year, huh?” She sighed, landing in a chair at the dining room table for the little one’s breakfast. “Between that and this one, I feel old now...”

A sentiment the Doctor could relate to, honestly. “Time flies when you’re having fun, and I’ve certainly had fun with you~”

“You just wait your turn, mister.” Anya would have swatted him, but he was safely out of range until he brought their coffees to the table.

“I am, I am.” He managed to steal a kiss anyway, thanks to the mugs in his hands. “Your coffee and sugar.”

The priestess wavered between a giggle and a sigh and ended up just giving him a look. “You are so lucky I’m lucky to be here with you.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it - it was all your hard work that got us here.”

“Mmhmm.” She clicked her tongue while shaking her head. “Lying to the clergy.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Did you forget? If you hadn’t worked yourself to exhaustion during those first few months, I never would’ve had a chance to let you sleep on the office couch.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget that. For the first couple of days I was here, I was sleeping in the closet they gave me for an office; I only stopped because Steward came to offer a prayer and found me drooling on my desk.” Not her proudest moment, for sure.

“You’re kidding,” he replied in genuine disbelief. “And I was your first choice after that?”

Anya blushed. “Your office was neutral territory, and...and I already had a crush on you.”

“Really? We didn’t talk much until you started crashing in my office.” Then again, it’d taken him about five minutes to fall in love with her, so-

“It started when you held the door open for me my first day here.” She rushed through the end of the sentence because a certain small creature needed to switch sides.

He took a moment to see if he could remember doing that...nope. “So love at first sight?”

“Basically,” Pramanix admitted. “I saw your face underneath your hood, and that was that.”

“Huh. Maybe that’s why Kal’tsit told me to wear it...”

The Feline giggled. “Because you of all people need a limiter like that...Actually, she’s right. Someone else might’ve gotten to you first if it weren’t for that, after all. I’d thank her, but I think she’s still mad about the night I spilled wine on her.”

“I think she was more mad at Encio than anything that night,” the Doctor replied, vividly remembering that experience. “It’s always the little things, huh?”

“Always the little things.” As Anya said that, Pyara burped.

Her father smirked. “Speaking of. Is she almost done?”

“I think so.” The priestess held her out to him. “Can you take her while I clean up?”

“Absolutely. How’s daddy’s little angel, hmm?” As he took her, the infant began to purr, and the Doctor dashed into the kitchen for the paper towels he’d inevitably need.

Pramanix giggled again. “You’re catching on, huh?”

“One ruined keyboard pad is enough...Hmm. Maybe it was a false alarm.” A few seconds later, and it definitely was not. “Never mind. Do you think our Goddess would mind helping with that, too?”

“One second...Hey, Goddess...Uh-huh...Uh-huh?...Wait, really?...Alright, I’ll tell him. Thanks. She said sure.”

The Doctor’s head poked around from the corner as he continued cleaning up the mess. “I was joking.”

“Ask and you shall receive,” she smiled back. “Speaking of which, put her on her blanket when you’re done.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. We good, little princess?” The response was a wobbly nod, enough for him to walk her into the living room and set her on a blanket.

Payload delivered; Anya filled the Doctor’s empty arms with a warm smile, draping her tail behind his head. “Now you can carry me~”

“We’ll see about that.” He’d earned the playful slap on his shoulder with that comment, but to her surprise, he picked her up in a bridal carry and sauntered over to the couch, where they could watch their personal miracle work on what it meant to crawl. “So...one year, huh? Any regrets?”

“Regrets? Beyond not waking up to your face in the morning earlier? None I can think of.” Now she was the one purring.

He went for their first proper kiss of the morning - the first of many, especially today. “None for me, either. You are, without a doubt, the best thing to happen to me.”

“The absolute best?” The Feline booped his nose with a finger. “Even when I’m cranky?”

“I love my Anya in every mood she comes in.”

“Even when I scratch and bite your hands?”

“Even then.” The Doctor winked at her. “Maybe even a little more, since you remind me this isn’t a dream.”

Her purring was now audible as well as palpable. “Mmm. Would you mind helping this sleepy kitty wake up a little, darling?”

“Gladly.” And at last, it was ‘his turn.’

#arknights #arknights fic #pramanix (arknights)#this is more an anniversary fic than a mom-Op fic tbf #reminds me of the Dobermann one where she was in Medical more than like Mom Asbestos #...man it's weird to be able to say that about things i've written #wild #anyway Anya is still mofu mofu heaven and probably got even fluffier after having a kid and if that doesn't do things to your imagination #i have failed you as a fanfic author :D

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ofdogsandchocolate · 4 years ago

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‘Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

-He promised her they were forever. And they were, Till they weren't.-

Young, dumb, and in love. That's what Percy and Annabeth were. They were fourteen when they got together. Previously best friends since birth, but they both had formed a crush on each other. She asked him to the Halloween dance, and they both slowly started falling after that. Falling in love, that is. Annabeth had been told that it was scary, falling. That it's something you'll regret, that you'll come out empty handed. That you won't be able to get back up if you do. But, she couldn't help it. One look into his sea green eyes, and she was gone. Sometimes, though, she did get scared. Scared that he would leave her for someone else, like his father left her mother. Scared that he would change into a person she couldn't love, or vice-versa. But, Percy would just hold her close, and promise her that he wouldn't leave her. That they would be forever. She wanted to believe him, so she did. They battled the struggles of high school together, as well as got accepted to the same college. A college both of them dreamed of attending. Annabeth was waiting for some higher force to come down, and tell her all this had been a simulation. She was leading a life the rom-com girls wished they had. She was 18, and was still in love with her one and only. High school couldn't separate them, and so far college hadn't, so what couldn't they overcome together? They were forever, they always would be. Things were good. Really, really, great.

o.0.o

College was hard, money was tight, and people were mean, but Percy and Annabeth got through it.

Four years of college was enough for them, and they already had decently paying jobs, so they were all on their own. No school, or superiors to guide them. They were finally full fledged adults.

Annabeth thinks Percy must have not gotten the que, because he sure acted childish sometimes.

The two of them had been trying to bake cookies, but neither of them were meant for the kitchen. Flour was all over the place, the counter was stained faintly blue in one spot, and the apartment smelt of...burnt-ness.

As the blonde Woman took her oven mitted hand and retrieved the tray from the hot oven, Percy coughed.

"God, woman! You burnt out cookies!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, and slams the hot tray onto the stove top, the cookies that were supposed to be blue, a greenish brown color. She placed a hand on her hip, and turned to her boyfriend.

"Maybe if you hadn't forgot the baking soda, they would've turned out a little better."

The man mock gasped, "How could you blame this on me! You're the one who added all that salt. It only called for half a teaspoon!" Annabeth violently untied the lady-bug apron that, was much to small for her, and threw it over at the guy.

"You idiot-"

Her sentence was interrupted by flour. Flour that Percy threw at her. Flour that landed right into her mouth.

If you didn't know, flour doesn't taste all that great.

The woman started to cough violently. It was so dry, she couldn't swallow it, but it was sticking to the insider of her mouth aswell.

Annabeth reached around herself, trying to get a handful of flour to throw back at Percy. She finds the back of brown sugar instead, but figures it should do.

She threw a handful of the sugar blindly towards were Percy's voice was coming from.

"Ah!"

The blonde, who's hair actually looked more white than blonde at the moment, groaned as Percy began to laugh. It must have been super funny, watching her struggle. She wiped the flour from her eyes, so that she could see. Percy was standing at the Island, rapidly scooping up more flour into his hands.

Annabeth chuckled darkly.

"Oh, it's on."

Let's just say, the two of them were finding floor everywhere, for months.

o.0.o

One Saturday Morning, Annabeth and Percy were laying in their bed.

The bed that they shared.

They were both crammed over to one side, Annabeth head in the crook of his armpit, with Percy's hand resting upon it, combing through her golden curls.

It didn't particularly smell like roses, but it was nice.

She didn't know, since she was staring up at the ceiling wordlessly, but Percy was smiling widely at her.

He didn't understand how someone could be so beautiful, inside and out. And, how someone like her could ever love someone like him. He thought about the glittering diamond ring that sat in his underwear drawer. The ring he bought 2 years ago, when he was 22.

He was planning on popping the question soon. But, he was patient. He wanted it to be perfect, for her.

Percy turns back to Annabeth, who was now staring back at him. They smile at each other.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said turning over on her side, to get a better look at him. Percy followed in her movements. "You, of course," he exclaimed booping her nose with his pointer finger.

Annabeth laughed. "Well, I would hope so. You sure your not thinking of anything else? Anybody else?"

Percy knew she was joking, but Percy took it to himself to answer seriously. "No. I'm thinking of...forever."

The two held eye contact as a smile grew onto Annabeths face. "I like the way you think, Mr. Jackson."

Percy smiled. "Yes, me and Ms. O'Leary shall have a wonderful life together."

Annabeth snorted, and shoved her face into the pillows. "Yes! I wish you two the best of luck," she said, her voice muffled by the pillows.

Percy laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I love you."

Annabeth took her face out of the pillows to look at him. "Right back at ya."

o.0.o

It was a month later, and Percy and Annabeth were ready for a movie marathon.

(They both immediately agreed Harry Potter, for obvious reasons.)

Once they were all situated on the couch, Annabeth scrolling through the TV, Percy spoke.

"We don't have ice cream, do we?"

Annabeth's eyes stayed put on the television. "No. We finished it the other night."

He thought for a moment, before getting up from the couch and slipping on his shoes.

His girlfriend finally looked over too him, her eyebrows raised. "Um...were do you think you're going, mister?"

Percy looked back at her, smiling as he pulled on his coat. "Getting us ice-cream, of course."

He walked back over to Annabeth, who was now propped up on her elbows, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Blackberry rebel?"

"Blackberry rebel."

He gave a chaste kiss to his girlfriends lips, before walking back over to the door to their apartment.

"Don't start it without me!" He called out as he reached for the door nob.

It didn't feel any different from the other times Percy had gone out to fetch something. It felt normal. It was normal.

Right?

Then why did Annabeth feel so anxious all of a sudden? She got chills, but she told herself it was nothing.

Until she couldn't.

"Hey!"

Percy spun his hear around back to Annabeth, who was sitting all the way up. Her heart was racing, but she didn't know why.

Her boyfriend looked at her warily. "What? Is everything ok?"

Annabeth nodded uncertainly. "Um...yeah. Yes, I'm fine, just...be careful. It's dark."

Percy nodded, and reopened the door. Once it was all the way open, he threw his head over his shoulder.

"I love you."

Annabeth tried her best to calm down her heart, and give him a smile.

"I love you too."

The scariest thing, is that it felt like a goodbye.

o.0.o

An hour and 30 minutes. It should not take him that long to drive to the market down the block and get ice cream.

Annabeth paced around the living room.

Were is he? Is he okay? What if-

No. No, he's fine.

o.0.o

He wasn't fine.

Hours passed, and he still hadn't show up. Annabeth crossed her fingers, and wished that he would appear. That he would walk in the door, plastic bag with Ice-cream and pretzels, unharmed and happy.

That wasn't the case.

Annabeth was at the point were she was grabbing her keys frantically try to get out of the apartment, and trying to find Percy. Just as she walked toward the door, a rang was heard from the couch.

My phone. It could be Percy.

She sprints across the living room, and searches through the blankets and crevasses of the couch, to find the vibrating device in between the cushions.

East Coast Emergency Center.

A hospital?

Annabeth's mind thought the worst, and she answers shakily.

"H-hello?"

The feminine voice on the other side said, "Hello. I's this Annabeth Chase?"

A scared sob rose in the woman's throat, her chest tightening. "This is her."

The person sighed. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but your partner Percy has been in a car accident."

Annabeth gasped, a hand coming to her mouth. Tears started to form in her eyes, as she said. "What- Um. Is he okay?"

"Sadly, he was gone when the ambulance found him. I am- so, sorry."

Annabeth cried as she began to crouch on the floor. "Oh my- I- I- Ill be there as quickly as I can," her voice wobbled off as she hung up.

She was in shock as she drove to the hospital. Sobbing, but not particularly thinking straight. It felt unreal. 15 minutes prior, she just thought Percy had gotten mugged, but-

He was gone.

Percy was gone and their forever was over.

o.0.o

seven years later

o.0.o

Annabeth liked to dive through the suburbs sometimes.

To see the life she could of had, and cry, and laugh, and just think.

She also visited the cemetery from time to time. Not as much as she used to, but a couple times a year.

Her friends had told her she should move on, that it just wasn't meant to be. But they didn't know him like she did. They didn't know how important she was to him.

So, Annabeth still visited him. Put blue flowers on his grave, sometimes talked, sometimes wrote a little note.

She didn't know if he heard, or if he was even there, but it felt nice, just imagining that he did.

Annabeth looked down at the soft gray stone, and the little trinkets and flowers scattered along he bottom. She smiled, as she reached into her pocket to take out the small enveloped note.

She kissed it lightly, before setting it down lightly at the base of the stone. Straightening her back, he took one long breath, her eyes stinging. But this time, with happy tears.

"I love you, Seaweed Brain."

And it finally feels like a proper farewell.

o.0.o

Hi, Percy.

How are you? I hope you're well. I'm okay, thanks for asking.

I haven't seen you in so long, I don't really know what to say. Which hurts to think, since you were such a large part of my life. Which also hurts to think about, because you aren't that anymore. I don't think of you everyday, and it scares me. You're face isn't always on my mind, and I hate it. I know you would want me to move on, and while I care deeply about your opinion, I deem that stupid. I know its been a long time. Hell, I'm 30. Can you believe that? An actual grown-up.

I might find another person, at one point i time, but I will always love you. Because, well, how can I not? I always hated how easily you made me love you. One of your worse traits, for sure.

Anyways, what I'm trying to do here is a...final goodbye. A way were I can finally try to let you go, or at least partially. I've just held onto you in my stubborn mind, and I think it's time to try and get better.

Because I know it's what you would have wanted.

I never got to say goodbye to you, and I think that's the hardest part for me. That I never got to see you one last time.

So, this is it. This is me, letting you go.

I think it's the best for the both of us. Not necessarily to move on, but to start healing.

We got our forever. Our little forever that only us got to live. Thank you for that.

Goodbye, Percy Jackson. I had a lovely little forever with you.

o.0.o.0.o.0.o

I seriously have no idea if this is the type of stuff you post on tumblr, but...here I am! Yeah, just a little thing I wrote.

(Very much based off of Drivers license, by Olivia Rodrigo. Beautiful song.)

#drivers lisence #percabeth #sad #angst #fanfiction #story #romance

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whyralltheusernamestaken · 4 years ago

Text

Hell

Yannoe that incorrect quote that’s like, I would f//ck a demon cuz of status, when your stroll into hell and everyone else is panicking but your sugar daddy’s just there?

Well that’s what this fic is lmao

Hitoshi Shinso x reader

Demon!Shinso who doesn’t go to UA

Genre : fluff, comedy possibly

Warnings : swearing, hell(?)

Words : 2,316

Masterlist

A/N : it’s a very stereotypical hell, apologies lmao

this is also a very ooc shinso cuz i’ve never written for him b4

Hope you enjoy!

The events following your classes’ arrival to the rescue centre were certainly a mess. One moment Thirteen had been explaining about them self and their quirk, and the next a vast mass of villains had shown up. A mass of purple clouds had swallowed all of you up whole and scattered you across the centre, leaving you with the weaker villains.

Well that was what was supposed to happen. Instead, you had drop onto a one way staircase of marble, surrounded by rivers and waterfalls of lava.

“Why the fuck is it so hot in here?” someone curses out. You turn to see Bakugou taking off a piece of his costume, sweat already dripping down the side of his face.

“Are we still in the rescue centre?” a certain red hair asks, deactivating his quirk that he had unconsciously started using when he was sucked into the warp.

Before you can even get a word in, a small, cute imp pops up out of nowhere, a small trident in it’s hands. “Welcome to hell!” it cheers, a large grin on it’s face as it’s wings beat the hot air around, turning around to look at you. “Welcome back Lady Y/N, it’s been a while since we last saw you.”

You hum in response, booping the small creature. “I must say I didn’t recognise it here, must’ve changed a lot.”

“It knows you?” Kirishima asks. You nod, not bothering to elaborate more as the imp answers your question.

“Not at all mistress.” it responds, flying around before settling on Kirishima’s shoulder, the said boy tensing up almost immediately before softly rubbing the imp’s cheek. “You simply hadn’t seen the outside of the castle.”

“Sorry to break up your little reunion.” Bakuogu snorts, stomping up to Kirishima and grabbing the imp by it’s tail. “but how the fuck can we get out of this shit hole?”

“Well that’s not very nice.” it chides, stabbing him in the hand with the point of the tail before flying to settle on your head. “You can leave if master allows it.” it continues, ignoring Bakugou’s hisses and threats towards it.

“Well shall we go then?” Kirishima suggests, to which you agree. “Come on Bakubro, stop being a wimp.”

“Who the fuck are you calling a wimp huh?”

You ignore the boys, beginning to climb the stairs. The stair case seems endless, one step followed by a thousand more.

“Why the fuck are there so many stairs?” Bakugou shouts, rubbing his forehead with his arm.

“Because it’s long and tortuous.” the imp laughs, sticking it’s tongue out at Bakugou to which he responds with another curse.

“Would you like me to teleport you mistress?” it asks.

“Does that offer include the boys?” you ask, not bothering to turn around and look at them.

“No it doesn’t”

“What why not?” Kirishima asks. “That’s not very fair.”

You can hear the pout in his voice. “Then I’d love to take you up on that offer.”

“Y/N you bitch, don’t you dare leave us- HEY! Come back here now!”

By the time he finishes his sentence, you’re already gone.

“Bro she just left us.” Kirishima complains, but he’s drowned out by Bakugou’s ear piecing screams of anger.

He sighs and shakes his head, continuing the steps up.

After what seems to feel like hours, they finally reach a massive gateway, It opens up to another set of stairs, this time the temperature much cooler than before and the stairs seem to be made out of pure gold, decorated with velvet trails of red.

“This way!” the imp calls out, reappearing in mid air.

“You little shit-” Bakugou calls out, leaping into the air to grab it, but it simply flies away, leaving him to fall clumsily onto his feet.

Kirishima follows along, pulling Bakugou by the arm, making sure he didn’t stomp off like a child.

After a few twisty corridors, then find themselves in a massive hall, the ceiling held up with columns of red and gold, a massive crystal chandelier hanging from the centre. Painting and tapestry littered the baroque architecture and near the back of the hall sat a massive throne, one that could probably fit at least a dozen people.

The boys look to see you sat across someone’s lap, you head against their shoulder as they fed you grapes.

“Oh, look who finally made it.” you smile, giving Bakugou a wink as you see literal steam emitting from his ears.

He starts scowling at you but Kirishima simply laughs. “So Y/N are you gonna explain anything or?”

“This is Hitoshi!” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck as he smiles adoringly at you. “He’s the demon king of hell.” you nod approvingly at your introduction, whereas it only brought more questions to his friends.

“And you know him because...” Kirishima starts, trying to get you to continue explaining your story.

“Oh, he’s like... hmm.” You pause, trying to look for a good term to label your relationship as. You had accidentally stumbled across summoning the demon when you tried to combine your quirk which witchcraft, which led the latter to become infatuated with you, the first human who had even summoned him in his thousands of years alive.

Your room had began to fill with smoke and now matter your use of quirk or fanning air through the window, the wouldn’t seem to disappear. That’s when you realised the mass of black forming in the centre of the smoke.

You shrieked and climbed out of the window, jumping down rather ungracefully before sprinting down the road. Your parents were at work so there was no point in staying in the house.

As you turned the corner, you bumped into someone, falling backwards. They stepped forward and caught you by the waist, lifting you up to meet a gorgeous purple haired man with deep sunken eyes and a Cheshire grin.

“Um thanks.” you quickly said, stepping away and getting ready to run away again when he spoke.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” he asked.

“I think there’s someone in my house.” you said, your adrenaline now leaving you with the fear.

“Oh that was me.” he replied curtly, giving you a grin as he watched your face morph into fear, and then quickly anger.

You raised you leg, kicking him directly in the nuts.

“Bro I could’ve been changing on something.” you threw your hands up in the air. “Who gave you the right to just waltz into my house.”

“Um you actually.” he spluttered, squatting down on the floor as he struggled to regain his composure. He was the demon king for fuck’s sake and not only had some mere human ran away after summoning him but then they proceeded to kick him in the balls. The audacity!

“What?”

“You summoned me.” he glared.

You pursed your lips. “How?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he retorted. “No one’s done that before.”

You stared down at him, inching your face closer and studying his features. “Can I return you?”

“What the fuck?” He raised his head abruptly, head butting you as you stumbled back a few steps.

“What?” you shouted, rubbing your sore forehead as he stood up again. “I didn’t try and summon you, it was an accident.”

“Well I can’t go back until you make a deal with me.” the man sighed, placing his arms on his hips.

“Yeah no.” you replied almost instantly, turning on your heel and leaving. If he was telling the truth and was indeed the one in your room, then you could go home with no worry.

“Hey, don’t ignore me you human!” he shouted, catching up with you and walking next to you.

“Can’t you like, I don’t know, leave me alone?” you asked desperately.

“No. You have to make a contract with any demon that you summon within 7 days or your soul will be taken.”

“Uh huh.” you nodded. “Can I make a deal with you to leave me alone?”

“Technically yes, but you’ll also need to pay a price.”

“Oh my fucking god.” you screamed, banging you head against your front door. “What’s the price then?”

“Hmm I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You’re the one spewing this nonsense about a contract.”

“Oh, it’s just I get to choose the price. I’m not too sure what I want from you yet.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to underneath your window before boosting yourself up with you quirk, perching on the window sill as you stared down at him.

“You’re cute. But also fucking insane bro.” you commented, stepping into your room and closing the window.

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” he said, reappearing in your room.

You screeched, jumping back. “Bro please leave me alone.” you begged, sitting down defeated on your bed with your head in your hands.

“Nope. I’ve decided.”

“What will it be?” you asked uninterested, deciding that you’re fate had been sealed already. You were going to die anyways, why not go by a hot demon.

“You’ll be my friend.”

“What the fuck no.”

“I do admit that I’m rather a lonesome person, I could perhaps do with some of your...” he looked you up and down before finishing, “presence.”

You snorted. “Don’t you have any demon friends?”

“The king has no friends.” he replied simply.

“And you’re like the king?” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“No darling, I am the king.”

“He’s like my friend?” you question, looking at Shinso for an answer. He simply shrugs with a smile before holding up another grape for you.

“Friends?” Bakugou snorted. “I don’t see you cuddling up to all of your friends in the dorms.”

“Humph fine.” you pout. “Like sugar daddy? I don’t know, but you do give me a lot of things.”

“That’s simply because I like you.” Shinso replies, a soft smile on his lips.

You respond with a large grin, sitting up to give me a kiss on the cheek whilst you hear Bakugou cough “Disgusting.” underneath his breath.

“Can’t you like, keep Bakugou here and torture him endlessly?”

“I’m afraid that’s against the rules.”

“Or you could recruit him, since he’s a literal demon himself.”

Kirishima laughs at your comment, before asking “So how can we go back? Our friends might be in danger so we need to go back as soon as possible.”

“Alrighty Hitoshi, can you teleport us back?”

He responds with a hum before you find yourselves back in the centre.

You look around to see Kirishima and Bakugou getting up from the floor, Bakugou shouting about how he didn’t need to have dropped them from such a high place. He stops when he sees the Nomu, it’s foot perched upon your teacher’s head. You start to run to him when you realise Shinso is flying mid air, still holding you in his arms.

“Hey, how strong are you?” you ask.

“Pretty strong I’d say. Why?”

“Do you think you could blow that muscle bird away. It’s kinda ugly.” you comment, pointing at the Nomu. “But like, keep the human underneath it, I kinda need him stil alive.”

“Your wish is my command.” he replies, before he flicks his wrist, the nomu being lifted high into the air and tossed to the side of the centre.

“Holy shit.” a male voice shouts. “That bird is invincible, how did someone do that?”

You turn to see Mineta shouting by the side of the water zone, your lips curling in digust. “Ew gross.”

“Would you like me to get rid of him?”

“Maybe another day.” you reply.

The doors suddenly burst open to reveal All Might, standing there in all of his muscly glory.

He begins to fight with the Nomu as you lean back in Shinso’s chest.

“So like, could you get his body off the playing field?” you ask, pointing at Aizawa.

Shinso hums in response, lifting Aizawa’s body and following it toward the exit of the centre.

“Hey Tsuyu, could you take him?” you shout and she nods quickly, wrapping her tongue around his and pulling him towards the ambulances outside.

“Alrighty, how about we wrap things up.”

Shinso hands you a magical gun and you enhance it with your quirk. With one beat of his wings, you two gets proceeding closer to the nomu, before you shoot it’s expose brain. It halts momentarily, unable to regenerate too quickly, and the perfect opening in created, All Might landing a punch and sending it flying off, out of the centre’s roof.

“Well that was fun.”

“I don’t think we can say the same for your friends.”

You look over to see a few of your classmates very ruffled up, buts and bruises littering them. “Oof.”

“Should I put you down?”

“Nah, you’re comfy.”

Bonus :

“Y/N, are you going to see your demon boyfriend any time soon?” Kirishima calls out in the living room of the dooms.

“Demon boyfriend?” Uraraka pipes up, catching the interest of many classmates.

“Hmm?” you hum in response, looking up from your phone. “Maybe when I feel like it, why?”

“Well I heard there’s a special type of crocodile skin in the demon realm where it’s unbreakable and I was wondering if I could reference it for my quirk or costume?”

You nod in response. “Sure thing, I can give him a call.”

“Um no you won’t.” Uraraka cuts in. “You are going to tell him to come here because I want to see your boyfriend.”

“Um why though?”

“Because we’re best friends and you didn’t even think to tell me you were dating someone?” she pouts and you instantly feel bad.

“Sorry sorry Ochako. Sure.” you quickly reply.

“No you are not inviting that bastard over.” Bakugou shouts from the kitchen.

“Well more of a reason to invite him I guess.” you laugh.

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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years ago

Text

A Real Date

200th Follower: @idabbleincrazy

Request: So, how about a fluffy Sam x reader, where they’ve just started a relationship and finally have some down time between hunts to go on a first real date

Word Count: 13

Pairing: Sam X Reader

Characters: Reader, Sam, and Dean

About: Reader and Sam go on a first real date

Warnings: Language (Few swear words here and there), Fluff (Pretty fluffy, who doesn’t like a fluffy Sam?)

A/N: Tag your Sam/Jared stans

A/N 2: What color do you think Jareds eyes are? I went with Hazel cause most people with Hazel eyes are known for their eye color changing depending on their mood and lighting.

*18+ Content. Anyone younger than that will need to scroll along. I don’t want to risk my account thanosed.

**Please DO NOT copy and paste my work anywhere WITHOUT my permission and WITHOUT giving me the proper credit. I work super hard on my work and I would hate for it to be stolen.

***This work is also posted on Instagram, Wattpad, and AO3. Please go show some love over there

****Follow my other accounts Instagram, Wattpad, Twitter, and AO3

*****DMs are CLOSED for requests. I have to two other projects to finish up and I am super behind on them.

Forever Tags: @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @magssteenkamp @elansaidaris @hobby27 @440mxs-wife

Shy’s Masterlist

Shy’s Favorite Fic List

I wake up and roll out of bed. My body still sore from the hunt the boys and I finished a few days ago. It's not everyday I'm thrown by a werewolf into a cement wall but. I've had worse. I once had a vampire feed on me for days, but that's a different story.

I limp over to the dresser and grab clothes for the day, when I notice the time on the nightstand through the mirror. It's almost noon. I hang my head and pull a simple jeans and a t-shirt out and throw them on. Not before I put on the herb cream I made to help with the sore muscles.

As I walk into the kitchen, I'm throwing my hair up into a hair band when I hear, "Thank God, she lives!" I stare Dean down, who has a mouth full of food.

"Fuck off, Dean," I mumble as I make coffee. "My body is simply doing what its supposed to do. Unlike yours." I turn to see Dean glaring at me.

He gets up, clears his plate. "I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he says and walks out of the kitchen. "Sam! You girlfriend is being rude and mean." He adds.

"I'm going to kick his ass," I mumble to myself pouring myself coffee. I turn around to see Sam standing in the entryway. Staring at me with his perfect hazel eyes.

"How are you feeling?" He walks up to me and brushes a strand of hair that had managed to escape out of my face. His hands lingers under my chin and uses his thumb to rub my cheek. "You sleep okay?"

"I did actually," I sip my coffee and let the warm liquid do it's thing. "I'm still sore and still limping some. Not bad though, so don't worry about that."

Sam leans his head on mine. "I'm always going to worry about you. Hunting or not."

I smile and close my eyes. "You're so sweet and nice to me."

"Bleh," Deans voice is back in the kitchen.

"I'll make it up to you later tonight," Sam kisses the top of my head and pulls away. "Dean and I are going on a quick supply run. Just be ready to go after we get back."

Taking a deep breath I say, "Okay." Sam smiles and reaches out and brushes his hand across my cheek. "It's a date."

"A real one at that," Sam calls after me as he walk out of the bunker with Dean.

Now, I am left with either going to take a bath or going and setting up a prank in Deans room. Sighing, I opt for the bath, who knows what Sam has planned for me this evening. It's our first real date since becoming a thing about a month ago. With case upon case and literally stumbling onto a case, Sam and I haven't really had any time to go out and have fun.

***

When the boys finally come back, I am cleaned up and ready for whatever my tall hunter has planned for me. I watch as the boys put the stuff away. Dean waltz's off to his room only to turn around and eye me.

"Did you do something to my room while we were gone?"

I slip out of the kitchen chair and pocket my phone. "No, Dean. I was going to though."

Sam slips his arm through mine. I look up and see this huge smile on his face. "Shall we go?" He asks. I nod and Sam starts to lead me out of the bunker. "Don't wait up for us," Sam calls back after Dean.

"Dean is letting you drive this?" I raise an eyebrow when Sam leads us to the impala.

"Yep, took some convincing," Sam opens my side of the door and watches me as I slip into the front. Sam closes the door and with a few strides he in slipping into the driver seat and turning the car on.

"What do you say, we go to the buffet you like? Or that pizza parlor?" Sam looks at me and in the setting sun is at the perfect angle to see the color change in his eyes. My heart skips a beat and I almost instantly melt in my seat.

"You have said yourself that those two places should be shut down for who knows how many health code reasons," I shake my head and regain my composure.

"I mean, if you don't want to go to either places, I'm all for that because it's true, they should be shut down," Sam runs his hand through his long hair as he puts the impala into drive. "I just thought that maybe, I could shove it and take you there."

I smile and look at the road ahead of us. " You, Sam Winchester, are the sweetest man ever. But," I look over at him and he gives a quick sideways glance at me. "There is one place I want to try."

"Anywhere you want to go, my dear," Sam takes his free hand and rests it on my leg.

"Well," I take a deep breath. "It's a backyard-alley like taco spot. They make everything right in front of you, tortilla included. Everything is fresh. I've been thinking non-stop about it since Dean first mentioned it a few weeks ago."

Sam looks at me and back at the road. "Back alley taco shop. Do I need a gun?"

I laugh, "Maybe for the best. Let me text Dean to see if he has the directions."

***

When we pull up to the house, the sun was just about gone. Sam puts the car into park and opens the door and walks around to let me out. As I step out of the impala, Sam's hand lands on my waist. Pulling me up against his chest. He brushes my hair out my eyes and places a gentle kiss to my cheek before letting me go.

"Why the face?" Sam asks when he sees my scrunched up face.

"You missed," I take the collar of his shirt and press my lips to his. I instantly begin to feel my legs to shake.

"Indeed, I did," Sam mumbles. He wraps an arm around to keep me steady. Pulling back and keeping an arm around me, Sam says "How about we get you some tacos." He boops my nose with his index finger and links his arm in mine and leads us to the smell of tacos coming from the backyard of the house in front of us.

***

Back at the bunker, and full of tacos. Sam walks me to my room. "Tonight was fun," I say lacing my fingers into his. "We should do this more often when we have more down time."

Sam smiles. "We should."

Sam places a free hand on my waist and pulls me towards him. I place my hands on his chest and meet him halfway. Our lips move together like a dance. Sam slowly pushes me onto the wall where I wrap my arounds his neck and sigh into his lips.

"Ugh! Guys, not in the hallway, get a room," Deans voice ruins the moment.

Sam pulls away and give me an apologetic smile. I can see that even Sam wants to kick his brothers ass. Sam quickly kisses me and runs his thumb over my cheek and tells me goodnight before leaving me in the hall by myself.

I go into my room and get ready for bed. Once my head hits the pillow, I pass out.

I am slowly awakened by the bed sinking under me. I roll over to see Sam slipping into the small space beside me.

"I'm sorry," He whispers. "I didn't mean to wake you." He gathers me into his arms and tightly wraps his arm around me. His head resting on my head. "I just wanted to come lay with you."

I sleepily nuzzle my face into his chest and smile. "This is just what I need." I listen to the sound of his breath and soon I'm falling back asleep. But not without noticing Sam placing a gentle kiss to the top of head.

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randomfandomimagine · 5 years ago

Text

Little Bard (Jaskier x Reader)

Characters: Jaskier

Fandom: The Witcher

Tags Reader Insert, Female Reader, Hardcore Fluff

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood and injury

Word Count: 1,5k words

Requested by anon: Hello! This was an idea that came into my head. Can you write a fic with Jaskier and a fem!reader, who heals an wounded/injured Jaskier after he leaves Geralt and they fall in love and get married. She watches Jaskier play his lute with a content smile and playfully says that he’s playing so beautifully as if it were his child. Which he replies In a way, it are. The reader soon asks if he ever thought about having children, in which he confesses his worries about being a good father or not.

A/N: Sorry that it took long to post, but I hope you like it :D

Something erupted outside, abruptly interrupting the quietness that reigned in your hamlet. You looked up from your cleaning endeavors, turning to your window. Someone seemed to be in trouble.

“Help!” A man stumbled outside your house. “Oh, god, someone please help me!”

You ran to meet with him, just in time to see him fall to his knees. Rushing to his side, you saw that his scarlet doublet was open to reveal blood staining his dark blue undershirt. His hand, turned red too, clutched the spot.

“You’re hurt!” As the man groaned and whimpered, you helped him to his feet. “What happened?”

Wrapping an arm behind his back, you rested your free hand against his chest, careful to avoid the wound in his ribs. He dropped most of his weight on you, causing you to strain under it. He seemed slender, but was heavier than he looked.

“I was robbed...” He gulped, staggering as he dragged his feet with your help. “They stole all my coin and... and...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you” You muttered, taking him into the house with you. He continued to ramble, prey of a great panic.

“T-T-They cut me when...” He grunted as you sat him on the bed. “I refused to give them my lute”

It was then when you noticed the instrument hanging from his back. This bard had his priorities settled, and it nearly cost him his life. You were wondering what he was doing alone in such perilous paths, yet knew it wasn’t important at the moment. What was important was treating him.

“I’ll take a look at it” Gently, you pushed his hands away. He was so out of it that he let you despite his clear discomfort. There was a distant glaze in his blue eyes.

Slowly lifting his undershirt to reveal his bare torso, you could see a gash on his ribs. It didn’t seem too deep, and even if it continued bleeding profusely, you didn’t think he was in danger of actually bleeding out.

You quickly moved to gather a few supplies to treat his injury. As you returned, he began to squirm and fidget. His eyes were locked on your hands as you poured rubbing alcohol on a piece of gauze. Trying to apply pressure on his wound, you went to put a clean gauze against his skin, but he moved away from your grasp. The bard complained and nervously moved around.

“Tell me the truth, am I going to die?” He breathed heavily, his blue eyes begging as they locked with yours. “Oh, lord, no, don’t tell me”

“Listen to me, little bard” You urgued him, taking his face in your hands. “You will be alright”

Your patient smiled in relief and nodded. Taking a deep breath, he finally stood still enough to let you work. You immediately started treating his wound.

“Thank you... Thank you so much...” As soon as your hands halted, he let himself fall backwards to lie down on the bed. “Little bard... I like it”

“Hey, eyes open” You softly shook his shoulder with your free hand as you treated his wound. “Stay awake, little bard, talk to me”

“About... ow...” He sharply breathed in through his teeth when the alcohol made contact with his wound. “About what?”

“Uh... What’s your name?” You asked in an attempt to distract him from the pain and anguish.

“J-Jaskier”

“Jaskier?” You repeated, earning an absent nod. “My name is Y/N”

“T-Thank you, Y/N... Truly, you...” He panted, although you were starting to believe his unwell was more due to the shock than the actual wound. “You are an angel”

“You’re very welcome” You began to say, dedicating him a friendly smile. “You... Oi!”

His eyes suddenly closed and his head lolled to the side, causing you to jolt up in alarm. The bard was pale, and his brow remained furrowed in distress. You shook his shoulder again, this time to no avail.

Heaving a sigh and hoping he would be okay, you continued treating his wound. It had fortunately stopped bleeding, so you told yourself he would be alright. What did he say his name was? Jaskier. Jaskier would be alright. You would look after him.

If someone had told you a wounded bard would one day stumble into your life, you wouldn’t have believed it. You definitely wouldn’t have believed it either if they told you he would become important to you, that you would fall in love and get married. That the little bard, Jaskier, would be your husband.

That day replayed in your mind as you absently prepared supper. He was outside in the local tavern, singing with his beautiful voice that had lulled you to sleep so many times, playing his lute with those nimble fingers that had moved across your skin every single day ever since you met him two years ago.

Just then, the door opened, yet you didn’t turn to see. You didn’t need to.

“Hello, darling!” You smiled as you heard the familiar sound of his boots against the wooden floor. “I’m home”

When his arms tenderly wrapped around you from behind, your grin only widened. In fact, you started giggling when he repeteadly kissed your cheek.

“How was your day, little bard?” You asked between giggles, briefly resting your hands over his arms locked around you.

“Brilliant, I earned some great coin” He punctuated his words with a last kiss to your cheek. “What are you doing?”

“Cooking” When Jaskier sniffed and sighed in content, you grinned at his facial expressions.

“It smells delicious! Well, I shall play for you then” Slinging the lute from his back to his front, he tentatively strummed the strings. “And make the task more bearable for you, my love”

While he played a ballad, you lowly sang along to the words you now knew by heart. His music brought warmness to your chest as usual, especially given that the very song he currently played was the one he had written for you so long ago in return for saving his life. To this day, it was still your favorite for both.

As you finished and let the food to cool off, you faced Jaskier and approached him just as he played the last note. He let it ring dramatically and eyed you as you stood before him.

“What are you thinking, darling?” He booped your nose with a playful finger, grinning at you.

“I am thinking...” You passed the strap over his head, ridding him from his lute and carefully settling it in the table behind him, the one he was leaning on. “That I love watching you play”

“You do?” He flirtatiously said back, earning a nod from you. Jaskier chuckled and rested his hands on your hips.

“You do it so tenderly... It makes me think of you playing with a child” You placed your arms around his neck. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful, a little one to share our love with?”

“Actually...” His piercing blue eyes lost any hint of playfulness and fell to the ground, avoiding your gaze. “I’m not entirely sure that I would be a good father, Y/N...”

“Nonsense” You kissed him in the lips, earning his full attention. “You would be an amazing dad”

“I appreciate that, darling, but... I can barely look after myself sometimes” He took a deep breath, frowning in anguish. “How am I to look after a child then?”

“You look after me every day, don’t you?” Hesitant, he still frowned. Determined to encourage him, you took his chin and tenderly made him lock eyes with you once more. “Don’t you, little bard?”

He couldn’t resist his pet name and smiled. There was a newfound excitement in the ocean of blue as he watched you carefully.

“I do, my love” Moving from your hip, his hand reached out to put your hair behind your ear. “Not only that, I adore looking after you”

You tilted your head, endeared by his words. Jaskier continued talking, prey of a sudden vitality only fueled by your smitten stare.

“And I would love that child, look after them and treasure every second of it!” He dramatically exclaimed, as though performing an important scene of a play. “And by the gods that I would try my hardest to be a good dad!”

You chuckled, and he did too. After laughing together at his silliness for a few seconds, the two of you exchanged small pecks. You opened your mouth to speak again, and Jaskier then moved to kissing your cheek given that your mouth was now busy.

“I knew you would be excited about the idea, in spite of your concerns” You giggled at his eager kisses. “I believe in you, I know you can be a great dad”

“And I believe in you, that you believe in me” His arms squeezed you against him. “The only person I could ever love more than you is our child”

You cooed at his words, moving to give some attention back to him. Your lips met once more, and there were many more kisses.

Tag list: @kingniazx / @greeniemoon / @they-call-me-thewildrose / @aviankin / @jasper-the-stan / @v3nusc3 / @kisabellar / @breezyfails / @squirrel-saloli / @saveatruckrideoptimusprime / @ultracolorfulnerdcollection / @creativemayhems / @bands-messed-me-up / @pantrashtic / @buckyness-intensifies / @drunkonbuckybarnes / @designfailure56 / @this-is-whump-dammit / @anderfelll-s / @x-joie-x / @waitingtobeimpressed / @legallyblindgamer727 / @lilyevans1 / @dancingwith-thesunflowers / @roaringliona18 // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, let me know!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

#rfi writings #ficlet #jaskier x reader #witcher #witcher ficlet #the witcher #the witcher ficlet #jaskier #jaskier ficlet #reader insert #requested

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years ago

Text

It’s a Grey Area

Chapter 3

‘Italics’ - thoughts.

A/N: Some Luke bashing, cause I feel he deserved it a bit. Honestly surprised I’m still continuing this.

A good week had passed since that mission. Poe was busy investigating who could have possibly leaked the information about the mission but came up empty with every avenue he ventured. Blix returned to work in the Med bay and tried to ignore the thoughts of everyone’s minds that were now creeping into her head. She only vaguely noticed that Poe had yet to come visit her in the infirmary but understood that he was working.

The day had started exhausting, she had only gotten maybe an hour of sleep, due to echoing thoughts of everyone around her. She kept dropping everything and making a huge mess. After the fourth time, she backed away from the table, and said with a heavy sigh, “Amber, take over, I’m- I’m going to go for a walk, and I may or may not be back.”

She walked out of the Med bay and took a stroll around the base. She was trying to calm her mind, and it was not going well. Eventually her stroll came to the area in which Luke was training Rey and Ben. She took a spot on an empty crate and watched from afar. As she watched Rey and Ben fight each other with lightsabers, something looked off.

She slowly realized it was because they were not synced. They were not connecting with their lightsabers. ‘Which makes sense, since they are not using their own lightsabers.’ Using Luke’s and Leia’s sabers made their fight styles stagnant. Luke was yelling at them to try harder and do better. ‘How can they when they are not connected to the weapons?’ She shook her head and walked away with a roll of her eyes, and went back to work, a bit more focused.

Blix found herself returning to their training area again the next day. As she watched, she noticed that both Rey and Ben were getting frustrated and sloppy in their movements. As Luke berated them on their movements, yet again, Rey’s foot got tangled on a root, and as she tried to recover wound up burning Ben with her saber. He also wound up burning Rey as he tried to drop his saber to stop her fall.

Luke sighed loudly as he walked over and grabbed the fallen sabers, turning them off as he picked them up. Blix had enough at that point and moved forward.

She walked directly over to Ben and Rey and helped them both up. “C’mon you two. To the med bay, I’ll take care of ya,” She promised as she had Rey lean against her, when her foot gave out from under her when she stood up.

Luke began to protest, “Excuse me, what do you th-“

Blix cut him off with a glare and a snarl of, “Back off!”

She led them directly into the Med bay, and set them both down onto a bed, and called for Bre to come over and assist.

They began to work on their burns first, once those were taken care of Blix looked over Rey’s ankle. “It doesn’t appear to be broken, but it is swelling. You will not be doing any more training today,” Blix commented as she set it up onto some pillows and got an ice pack for it.

“I want you both to rest,” Blix demanded, pushing them both into lying down on their beds. “Take these for the pain, and they’ll help you sleep.” She handed them both a pain pill.

“But Luke, hes-“ Rey began to protest, pushing the hand that held the pill away.

“You let me handle that hermit. The only thing I want both of you to focus on is getting better,” Blix spoke softly, presenting the pill again.

Both Rey and Ben looked at each other, and then took the medicine presented and got comfortable on the beds they were on.

As her and Bre cleaned up, the two of them seemed to have their own silent conversation with one another, as they looked at the door and then at Blix.

Blix went back to filling out paperwork and checking the schedule for any upcoming mandatory base-wide check-ups/vaccinations.

She noted in a month’s time there needed to be physicals done for everyone, so she wrote that down onto her calendar, and sent reminders to her team about it, so they too would have it noted.

As she worked, she heard wheels and several beeps coming toward. She looked up to see R2D2 rolling in.

“Hello Artoo, what’s up buddy?” She asked him politely.

Several beeps and boops later he informed her that Luke was looking for his students and wanted to know when to expect them back.

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, her head turned to the ceiling.

“Artoo? Can you record a message for me to send back to him?” She asked as a devious thought entered her mind.

He beeped in agreement and after a moment of repositioning himself, a light came on indicating he was recording her.

“Luke. Your students will not be available for the rest of the day. In fact, they won’t even be available tomorrow. They are going to spend this time resting. You know, sleep? Eat? Heal? Interact with other human beings? I know that that last one may be strange concept for a hermit like yourself, but I digress,” She informed with a displeased look.

“Maybe you should take that time and do some self-evaluation. Maybe shave off that dead animal on your face? Maybe realize teaching isn’t really your forte?” She suggested before adding, “Oh and these are doctor’s orders, so, you can complain to your sister all you want, but my word overrides hers. Have a nice day.”

Artoo beeped and ended the recording and asked if she was sure if he wanted to send that to him. She nodded her and said, “Yes, I’m sure. Enjoy your day Artoo, don’t harass Threepio too much yeah?”

He sassily beeped that he would make no promises and rolled out.

As soon as he left, she noticed a sound coming from her patients. She looked over and saw Rey’s shoulders shaking with laughter; she tried to hide her face with her hands. Ben was smiling but was trying to cover it with a cough or by clearing his throat.

“Rest you two. I want you both to spend this time, being normal young 20-somethings. Got it?” She requested, with a smile, on her face.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Rey smile that much. Ben also looks like he’s not used to smiling either. Those two are far too young, to be that broken by the world.’ She thought sadly, before she returned her focus to her paperwork.

The day passes on smoothly, Rey and Ben were released to their rooms once their burns had healed, the former was requested to keep off her foot as much as possible until the following morning.

Around lunch time the next day, she spotted Rey near the base, sitting cross-legged, her eyes closed. As she stepped forward, she could hear her quietly speaking, “I am one with the Jedi, the Jedi are me.”

She watched for several minutes before Rey, reopened and she looked around her expectantly, but was immediately discouraged. She looked down at her lap and Blix could hear her thoughts clearly, ‘Why isnt this working? What am I not doing? Am I not enough?’

Blix glanced down and away as empathetic pain bloomed in her chest. She knew what it was like to try and connect with the great beyond and not hear a damn thing. To feel great existential loneliness.

Blix walked away and back to the med bay, even though she desperately wanted to go straight over to Rey and assure her she was enough.

That night, she couldn’t settle. No matter what she did, she couldn’t sit still, or lay down without tossing and turning. She had a sudden urge to go to her secret place, so, she threw her shoes back on and slowly made her way outside.

She was in her field minutes later, but she still felt unsettled. She looked around confused as she tried to figure out what was going on. Why did she feel so antsy?

She heard the sound of a twig snapping behind, and as she whipped her in that direction, she quietly called out, “Grandfather? Is that you?”

“Not quite your grandfather, no.” Came a sage voice, and as his Force Ghost stepped forward through the trees she gasped.

“Master Qui Gon? What are you-? Why-? I mean. Hi!” She stuttered over her words and could hardly form a proper sentence.

He chuckled at her nervousness and said, “Hello my dear. It is nice to officially meet you. Shall we sit?” He gestured to the flat ground before them.

She nodded, and sat, starring at him in awe, as he joined her a moment later.

“The past week has been rather interesting for you, I hear,” He began. “I know your grandfather came to you before, and while he sensed that you would have a need to use your powers soon, I cannot help but wonder. You used them last week but have since pretended that they do not exist again, even though your mind and body are reconnecting with galaxy. Why is that? What exactly are you afraid of?”

She looked at him for a moment, before she turned her gaze to a small wildflower that had suddenly become rather intriguing. She bit her lip, as tried to formulate her thoughts into actual sentences.

“I-. Hmm,” She started before taking a breath. “My mother.. refused to acknowledge these powers of mine. She… She saw them as a curse. A beacon in the night for any Sith lord to find me.”

“But you still went through the training, on your own, using your grandfather’s scrolls and journals, did you not?” He questioned.

“Yes. I did. But between his experiences and what wound up happening with Luke and his padawans, how the hell am I supposed to be okay with being a Jedi when our lifespan tends to be rather short?” I asked him back. “I want to live. I want to fall in love and have a family. I don’t want to be responsible for the universe and die with nothing to show for it.”

“But do you also wish to see young Rey and Ben continue to struggle as they are?” He inquired. “Rey is losing hope with each passing day. Ben struggles with finding balance between his dark and light sides. You know better than anyone what it is like to struggle with anger and hopelessness.”

She scoffed, “What exactly are you suggesting? That I train them?”

“Is that so ridiculous? Luke does not have patience for the both of them. There is far too much distrust between him and Ben; he does not understand Rey’s struggles. You, however…” He trailed off.

Blix stared at him in shock, her mouth agape. “I’m. I’m not a Jedi Master though!” She exclaimed

“What makes you say that? You have built your own lightsaber. You can recite the codes and rules of the Jedi by memory. Your skills with the Force are powerful, when you are not being overwhelmed with panic,” He listed out. “You completed your training years ago. You are strong enough. The only thing stopping you from reaching your greatest potential is yourself.”

“What if-“ She began to question.

“The ‘what ifs’ do not matter. You are a Jedi, and under your tutelage Rey will flourish as a Jedi herself. Ben while skilled already, needs guidance. Needs someone who will show him how to balance between the dark and the light. I have great faith in you,” He concluded as he stood up.

“If I may say, you would have made a great Consular,” He added as he began to walk away. “Sleep on what we’ve talked on. In the morning, you’ll know.” His ghost disappeared.

“Do none of you know how to say goodbye in a normal way? Must you make vague comments before fading into the void?” She asked out loud staring at the spot where he disappeared.

She stood up and walked back into her room mumbling to herself about rude ghostly figures. She crawled into bed and passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

When morning came, she sat up on her bed, swung her legs to side, and stared at the pile of journals that sat there. Only a handful were medical journals, most of them, a good 40 or so, were her grandfather’s journals. She looked over all of them, her hand rubbing at her neck, as she thought things over.

She looked over to her closet, then back to the journals and said to herself loudly, “Fuck it. Why not?”

She wandered into her closet, toward the back, and pulled out an ornate box that she kept locked. She set it on her bed, reached into a drawer on her desk to pull out the key, and unlocked it. There were only two items within the box, but they were two of the most valued objects she owned. She gently pulled them out and set them into her lucky bag, an old canvas messenger bag that she was given when she was a child.

Once they were secured within it, she got dressed. She threw on a grey dress that flowed easily, with black tights underneath, and a pair of boots. She grabbed her bag and as she reached for the door, she paused for a moment. ‘Am I really about to do this?’

She nodded her head once in affirmation and then stepped outside. ‘If I was Rey where would I be at this time? Mess hall.’

She headed in that direction, her head on a swivel as she tried to catch sight of Rey. She neared an entrance of the Mess Hall, when she heard someone call her name.

She turned around and saw Poe walking up with Finn.

“Hey, Poe! Have you seen Rey? Or Ben for that matter?” She greeted as they stopped in front of her.

“Uh. No. Not yet at least? That’s a new outfit?” Poe answered before getting distracted by her dress.

“Damn. Where are they?” She muttered, searching the mess hall, not taking notice of his question.

“So, about that date you keep refusing…” He slyly mentioned as he tried to regain her attention.

“AH! There she is!” Blix exclaimed, as she spotted Rey entering across the way, BB8 strolling with her, and Ben trailing behind.

She turned back to look at Poe and what he said registered in her brain finally, as she responded, “Uh. Yeah. Sure. How about dinner at my place tonight? I’ll cook. Say, 6pm?”

He blinked in surprise and confirmed slowly, “You’re saying.. yes? To dinner? With me?”

She blinked a bit too as she realized what she said, she took a moment to confirm that that is what she said, and that she meant it.

She, with a bright smile, affirmed, “Yes. I am.”

As a smile broke out on his face, she pointed back toward Rey and said, “Listen I gotta go do something but I’ll see you tonight!” She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips before rushing off.

Poe froze. Finn looked at him and waved his hand in front of his face trying to get him to respond.

“Poe? Poe you in there? Hey buddy? We gotta get grub before the meeting remember?” Finn entreated, as he shook Poe lightly.

“You saw that right? She kissed me? Like. Openly and in public for all to see?” Poe implored as looked down at Finn.

Finn nodded his head in response. Before he could say anything else, Poe moved forward to get food, talking to himself as he did so, Finn heard a lot of “she said yes” and “I’m going to marry her” before he tuned out and just grabbed food and Caf with him.

While Poe.exec was crashing, Blix had made her way quickly over to Rey and called out her name.

Rey stopped and looked at her slightly confused.

As Blix caught up to her, she looked at her and then Ben and said, “Come with me. Both of you.”

She held out her hands for them to take and looked at them encouragingly.

Rey gasped as she realized what was possibly about to happen. She grabbed her hand and looked at Ben with an eyebrow raised.

Ben looked at them both like they were nuts but rolled his eyes and took her other hand with a sigh.

She smiled at them both and led them out of the mess hall. BB8 asked if he could come with and she told him so long as he kept up.

She led them to her field and had both of them sit down. BB8 rolled in between them, and unbeknownst to any of them, sent a message to R2D2 to create a connection and show everyone what’s going on.

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

R2D2 was in the command center with everyone was planning the next attack on the First Order, when he began to receive the transmission from BB8. R2 moved forward and connected to the center computer and projected what was being seen via BB8.

“What is this R2?” General Leia asked.

R2 responded that it was coming BB8 currently. He’s with Dr. Blix, Rey, & Ben.

Luke rolled his eyes, still bitter about her little message she sent him the other day and gave Leia a look.

“I know. Let’s just see what’s happening, okay?” She calmly said, knowing he was not a fan of the doctor.

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

Blix looked at them and admitted, “Listen, I’m not very good at this. It’s been a hot second since I had to give elaborate speeches. But. I am honestly tired of all the bullshit, if we are going to be honest.”

She looked at Rey, and softly consoled, “Rey. It is admirable that you want to connect with the Jedi of the past. But they are not going to appear before you just because. They will come to you during times of your greatest need. Or as I call it: when my grandfather thinks I need to calm the hell down.”

Rey chuckled a bit and nodded her head in understanding.

Blix then turned to Ben, and assured, “Ben. I know. I understand what it is like to feel anger down to your bones. I know what it’s like to hate and want revenge. Believe I do. But that is not me anymore. Nor is that you. Just because you feel anger, does not mean you are losing control of yourself. Feeling anger is normal. Accept that and accept that you are stuck with us, and the chances of you returning to the Dark side is very slim.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and slowly replied, “O-kay.”

“Okay. Now that we’ve gotten the pep talk out of the way. I am going to tell you some things I have not told anyone in a really long time,” She began as she finally sat down with them. “Poe probably mentioned some things last week to you I assume?”

Rey nodded and confirmed, “Yes. I told Ben later on, before a training session and swore him to secrecy.”

“Alright. Well. Let’s get to it then,” She responded taking a deep breath. “I am a Jedi. I did not have a formal master, I just had my grandfather’s journals and scrolls, which…. Was great many of them. He lived alone for quite some time, so he wrote.. a lot. I am telling you this now, because I am tired of seeing you two struggle. I am tired of healing wounds that you refuse to tell anyone about but me.” She looked at both of them pointedly.

“I finished my training some time ago. So. I am going to steal you both from Luke, because he does not understand that his training is not working for you guys. Hell, Leia never even finished her training so, I’m not quite sure why she gets involved” She informed them.

Rey sat up straighter at this, and said with growing excitement, “Wait. Wait. You’re gonna train us? For real?”

At the same time Ben questioned, “Who was your grandfather?”

“Yes. Really real,” She answered. “And we’ll get to that soon enough.”

Rey was practically bouncing in her seat and Ben looked far more intrigued than he did before.

“Ok. So. Pull out your lightsabers for me please,” She requested and as they did so she had them set them down on the ground.

“Now, did Luke ever explain lightsaber colors to you? Like what they mean, beyond ‘red mean bad?’” She asked curiously.

Rey shook her head no, and Ben said, “If he did it was a long time ago.”

“Okay then. To the basics we go,” She acknowledged with a nod. “To begin with, way back when, the Jedi Counsel had a system in place when it came to one’s lightsaber. The colors had meaning and classified you in a way.”

“There were the Guardians, their skillset were in fighting. They trained themselves in various martial arts. They were the defenders,” She then reached into her bag and pulled out one of the items she brought. “Their lightsabers, like my grandfather’s that you see here, were blue. Just like Luke’s and Leia’s.” She gently set it in front of her and looked at it fondly, with a smile.

She cleared her throat, before she continued, “Then there are the Consulars, who were more skilled in using the Force, and diplomacy. They used their lightsabers as a last resort. They tried to seek peace and harmony. Essentially, they were better at talking. My grandfather’s Master, Qui Gon Jin, in fact told me that I would make a decent Consular. Their sabers were green.”

“Lastly, there were the Sentinels, whose skills were less Force related and more specified. They had skills in both fighting and the Force, but they excelled in other subjects. They were engineers, mechanics, techs, pilots. Their sabers were yellow,” She concluded glancing at Rey who seemed in awe and smiled at her.

“As the years passed on the classes remained important, but the colors less so. Like. Mace Windu had a purple saber for example,” She further explained. “These sabers are meant to be a part of you. You connect with them on spiritual level, quite literally. That’s why both of you struggling with these,” she gestured to the sabers before them. “They weren’t made by you. You didn’t choose them or they you. So, one of these days, I’m going to take you two on an adventure and find your crystals/gems/stones- whichever they may be.”

Rey gave her a look of confusion at that last piece and said, “Stones and gems can power a lightsaber?”

“Mmhmm. Yes, they can. Stones tend to give off more earthy tones, and gems are very similar to crystals to be honest,” She clarified. “In fact, often times kyber crystals are synthetic. Sith sabers are made from synthetics for example. Or, if you live on a sand planet where no crystals can be formed,” She gave a pointed look towards Luke’s saber. “It all really depends on what’s available to you.”

“Any questions so far?” Blix stopped to take a moment.

“Wait. You said… Your grandfather was trained… under Qui Gon?” Ben asked staring at her strangely before his eyes widen in surprise. “Your grandfather was Obi Wan Kenobi?”

A small smirk slowly slipped on to her face that she tried to smother but failed.

“You’re a Kenobi?” Rey asked in shock. “How? Wha- Why-“

“It is a very long story, that I will eventually tell you but not today. But yes, I am a Kenobi. Glad to know you remember some of your history,” Blix complimented Ben.

“In fact, I think that’s all we are going to talk about today, I will arrange with the general a time where we can slip away for a few days to find your power sources and meditate. I will, however, show you one more thing,” she concluded.

She reached into her bag again and pulled out another saber, one that the base was black, and had runes and a strange language carved into the hilt. She stood up then and stepped back before pressing the button to light it.

“My saber color as you can see, is white with a black core, which makes it look grey in some angles. That’s my philosophy. There is not just the dark and light. There’s bits of grey in the universe that should be acknowledge,” she enlightened looking at her saber with pride before she turned it back off.

“So. I know, I’ve explained a lot. And I technically didn’t really ask either of you if wanted to be trained by me, but I shall ask now,” She admitted sheepishly, as she retrieved her grandfather’s saber from the ground. “Now that you know who I am, and what I know, do you wish to be trained by me, or do you want to finish training with Luke?”

They picked up their sabers, and stood up, dusting themselves off really quick. Rey pulled Ben a few feet away, and they began to whisper to one another.

She made a face and looked down at BB8 who had been strangely quiet during all of this. She then noticed the flickering light that indicating he was sending a live feed somewhere.

“Beebee… whatcha doin there bud?” She asked, her eyes squinted in suspicion.

Beebee beeped saying nothing.

Before she could call him out on lying, Rey and Ben came back over. “We decided that yes, we want to train under you, after we’ve explained things to Luke and Leia. We owe them that at least.” Rey declared.

Ben nodded his head in agreement, but also mumbled, “Though I personally don’t care about explaining anything to them, to be honest.”

Blix snorted and before she stated, “Alright then. Let’s go get food then yeah? I kinda stole ya during breakfast.”

As they made their way back onto base, the commander center was buzzing with the information that had been revealed.

“Admiral Holdo? You knew about this didn’t you?” Leia asked her with disbelief.

“It was not my secret to tell,” Amilyn replied simply. “It was not my intention to deceive you, but if anyone knew she was Kenobi, would spell trouble for her.”

Luke starred off into the distance, he knew the moment he saw that light saber just who it belonged to. He desired more answers but knew that he probably wouldn’t get any- not with her extreme dislike of him and his family. As he looked over at his sister, he could tell that she too, needed answers. Only time would tell if they would get them.

#poe dameron x oc #star wars #original character #poe dameron

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vanchlo · 5 years ago

Text

The Assistant /Chapter Twenty-Six, “Old Faces”

Catch up on reading or start from the beginning HERE! :-)

Thanks for reading! c:

SNEAKY PEEK TIMEEEEEEEEE!!!

Something inside of my chest falls and for the first time in weeks, my thoughts are flooded with her. And I’m worrying about her, missing her, and wanting to hear her voice. I’m feeling all of the things and thoughts I’ve done such a great job at suppressing for the last few weeks.

Because before, only the alcohol could, but I couldn’t do that anymore. I knew she’d be disappointed. And once that thought wormed its way into my brain, I couldn’t entertain it for more than a minute. And so I dumped out the bottles and threw them in the bin.

Now, I feel myself fill with regret at that because once again I want to drown the feelings.

Because I’m hurting thinking about all of the hurt and pain she’s feeling.

“Awww, my little baby on her first day of school!”

“Oh, would you stop?” I groan in annoyance. But I can’t get rid of the smile pinching my cheeks.

“You’re looking like a lawyer already, Boops!” Skye comments as I stop in front of her at the island. She sets down her Winnie the Pooh mug and just smiles at me. It’s a rare occurrence. “And don’t you start saying that I can’t call you that. I’d say it’s rather fitting for a day like this.”

“Fine. Only today you can call me that old nickname that’s been dead for decades,” I reply before looking down at my outfit. “I’m not too overdressed, am I?”

“No, I think you look very nice. And you should dress to impress, they say.”

“Mmmmhmm,” I respond, flattening the patterned long-sleeve blouse I wear. Black jeggings cover my lower half.

“Are you excited?” Skye’s question hits me as I reach for a glass from the cupboard. I watch the golden orange juice splash into it.

“Yeah, I really am. I know I’ve already been down this road, but I feel so much more confident and excited this time around.”

“Well that says something,” she replies and I nod at her answer. The slice of bread sinks into the toaster as I set down the jar of jam with my other hand.

I grab a plate and scoop the rest of the scrambled eggs onto it that Skye left for me. “I’m dying a girl’s hair rainbow today, so there’s my big bang,” she comments enthusiastically with her sky-blue eyes twinkling. I smile at the excitement in her voice.

It finally looks like we’ve found our callings, I think to myself. A second later, I almost cringe at myself, but at the same time, I’m grateful for the happy thought.

“So most of your classes are online?”

“Yeah, but I have this one that I have to go on campus for. It’s one of the important ones,” I reply before a bite of scrambled eggs passes my lips.

Ding!

Dragging my phone across the counter, I look at my lit-up screen. A new text appears on my screen to join the others.

Asher:

Good luck on your 1st day back!!! Hoping everything goes well and you get nice teachers!!! Take deep breaths!!! Dont forget to tell me how it went :)

Sophie (Boss):

Wishing you a great first day back, Becky! We’re all so proud of you and we can’t wait to see the great things you do! Good luck!

Robbie:

Proud of u for going back Ree. Keep ur chin up. I cant wait 2 hear all about it. Excited 2 hang out with u and dad this weekend back home. Love u sis.

Daddy:

Happy 1st day of school 2 my big 25 year old! I hope ur 1st day back is gr8 Boops. Good luck! Take ur time & ask ?s. Call when u get home. I want 2 hear how it went. Love u! xoxo

A smile creases my cheeks as I read the words. I hear his familiar voice inside of my head, and warmth radiates through my chest. It makes me ache for one of his hugs and forehead kisses. I swipe right on my Dad’s text and click on the space to enter my own text.

Thanks so much, Dad! I’m really excited, but nervous. I feel like people might know I’m the dropout… But luckily I only have only one face-to-face class, and the rest are online. I hope that you are feeling better. Let me know if you need anything. I can’t wait to see you this weekend! Love you, Daddy! Xoxoxoxo

The lecture hall is smaller than I remember, and less run down. Hmmm, maybe my experience is actually going to help me to not be so afraid and intimidated, I think to myself. After walking up several stairs, I choose an empty table in the middle of the hall. Students mill around talking and checking online course content and Snapchat. Their chatter fills my ears as I set down my violet backpack and sit down. I place my laptop in front of me, along with a fresh notebook, my planner, and my little bag of pens and pencils. As I boot up my new laptop, the seats around me fill up. It’s not long before the professor takes a seat at the table at the front. His graying hair is tied into a short pony at the back of his head. The class quiets down at his arrival, but there aren’t many of us in the cohort. Around 50 or so.

Looking up behind his horn-rimmed glasses, a smile sparks behind his thick gray beard. “Oh, don’t mind me. We still have a couple of minutes until class starts, and I’m sure this bloody computer will take that and longer to start up,” he quips, and my classmates and I reply with laughter. “If everybody’s here, we can at least start with introductions. Shall we?”

“I’m Professor Alcott and I’ll be your guide for Criminal Law this semester. It’s great to see a group of smiling faces eager to dive into the nastier side of law. I practiced full-time for around 25 years until I arrived at this university. I thought I’d like to guide young minds into the law world, and so here I am. I still practice occasionally when I’m not teaching. It fulfills my craving to be back in the courtroom when I’m not in the classroom. Now, who would like to go next?”

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

“It sounds like your first day couldn’t have gone better, Boops.”

“Yeah, I actually think you’re right, Dad,” I reply, sinking lower into the welcoming sheets of my bed.

“You don’t have to say it like I’m not usually right,” my dad jokes back with a weak laugh. My smile falls at that, wondering if I’ve ever heard a hearty chuckle absent from his voice.

“I-I’m not, don’t worry . . Are you feeling any better, or are you still having those um pains you were talking about?” I ask tentatively, worry and care sewn into my words.

“I’m okay. They come and go,” he replies softly with few words.

“Are you going to go to the doctor like I’ve been begging you?”

“Yes, Becky. I have an appointment for tomorrow morning. Just like I promised

you,” he replies with emphasis in his words. I try to find the fear in his words. But either he’s doing a great job of masking it, or it’s simply not there.

“But you cancelled the last one, Dad.”

“I didn’t mean to cancel it, Becky,” he sighs. “I made it and found it got in the way of work. I forgot to reschedule it. I’m sorry.”

“I know, Dad. I just want you to get looked at. I don’t want something to be wrong,” I say quietly, feeling the fear creep up my throat. But I try my hardest to push it back down, because I can’t let it in. I can’t worry about my Dad anymore than I already am. I have school now and my job. I just can’t.

“I know, sweetie, and neither do I. Everything’s going to be fine, my love. You needn’t worry,” my dad tells me in his soothing deep voice. The same voice that lulled me to sleep with bedtime stories, explained maths homework to me whilst I cried in frustration, and told me it was okay when I dropped out of law school. He’s always been there to tell me it’s going to be okay, and now I know I need to be the one telling him it’s going to be okay.

I just hope that I’m telling him the truth.

Madley looks just the same. But it doesn’t.

New shops have opened up. Old ones have closed down. New developments have sprung up. Patches of woods have been cut down. The city park has a new playset instead of the one I grew up on. My former primary school has a new addition. Roads were redone. New ones were made.

I made the drive easily, knowing it like the back of my hand by now.

But at the same time, it’s hard. Because I have this off feeling sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach. And I can’t name it, or make it go away. It’s been there all morning, and I can’t figure out how to get it to go away.

It grows as my footsteps sound on the sidewalk leading to the front door of the house I grew up in. Shoots of grass inch through new cracks in the cement. The daffodils wilt against the steps leading to the front door.

The feeling in my gut flares, making me stop. I take a second to look harder. The cream paint that’s defined my childhood home is peeling in places. The grass hasn’t been cut in a while. I can’t remember the last time I saw it long, and not neatly cut. Patches of prematurely fallen leaves scatter the usually clean walkway. The glass window panes on the top half of the door are smudged and dirty. I don’t get another second to look harder, because the front door opens and a smile waits for me.

Perhaps my favorite one.

“Hi, baby girl,” my dad coos, letting go of the door. It creaks before closing as I watch my dad pad down the steps and wrap me in a hug.

I exhale into my dad’s chest clad in one of his typical Nike jumpers. Letting go of my suitcase, my arms find their way around him by instinct.

“How was your trip?” he asks in his deep voice. His scruffy cheek falls onto the top of my head, and he holds me against his chest.

“Good, thanks. The usual,” I reply. I squeeze him and try not to notice how my arms go around him easier than the last time. I just try to find comfort in his familiar smell of the same laundry detergent he’s used for 30 years.

“Good. Robbie just got here. I’m finishing up lunch right now, it’s almost ready,” he informs me.

“Oh no, don’t leave Robbie around food cooking on an open flame,” I joke, feeling one of his large hands comb through the hair at the top of my head.

He laughs and mine echoes his. But I’m afraid that they’re both forced. Dad releases me from the cocoon-like hug, but not before planting a kiss on my forehead. The same kind of kiss he’s given me since the day I was born. Always the forehead.

“We better hustle then,” he quips, stepping to the side to pick up my violet suitcase. I smile at him and he mirrors it as he holds the door open for me.

“I think something’s burning!” I hear Robbie exclaim in a confused tone.

“How do you even survive on your own?” I answer, toeing off my shoes in the entryway. I push them to the side with my foot to sit on the red rug. Beside Dad’s white Nikes green from mowing the lawn. Robbie’s black vans.

“On microwavable ramen, hot pockets, cereal, and chicken nuggets. Duh,” Robbie replies, garnishing an eye roll from me. But he can’t see it.

The same brown plaid couch stares back at me a few feet away in the living room. My dad sets my suitcase down by the wooden stairs a few steps in front of me.

“You just stir it, you goon!” my dad tells Robbie, padding through the living room in his classic Levi jeans. “Did I teach you nothing when it came to cooking, or did you tune out that day?”

A Chelsea vs. Arsenal game plays softly on the telly. But its only viewer is the In-Fisherman magazine sloppily laid on the couch.

“No, I’m pretty sure I was stoned that day,” Robbie replies softly with a wry chuckle. My dad sighs and clucks his tongue at my brother.

“Any day now, Ree!” Robbie shouts to me. But I hardly hear him, because my thoughts are wound up in the uncharacteristic pill bottles I see on the side table. And the brochures that I can’t make out from this distance. I recognize a few as take-away. One has lots of words that I can’t read, but it makes my heart shrink regardless.

“Hey, everything alright?”

I look up and watch Robbie walk into the room. His pale skin the same shade as mine peeks out from the trendy holes in his blue jeans. He pushes his black button-down aside to pocket his hands. A familiar Marvel shirt peeks out from underneath.

Swallowing, my lips part, “Did Dad tell you what the doctor said?” I ask nervously, keeping my volume low so only he hears.

“No,” Robbie responds quietly. And I hear it in his voice. Because it’s the same thing I just heard in mine.

“Rob,” I mumble, looking him in the eyes. I feel something pass between us, and somehow I know that he’s thinking the same thing as me.

I look up at the ceiling, trying to will the tears away, but it never works. Because I’ve tried it so many times in the last few days as I worried why my dad didn’t tell me what his doctor said on Tuesday.

“Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. Why don’t you lot go and wash up?” my dad announces, and I nod automatically. But I know I can’t go upstairs and wash my hands in the sink that I have for the last 20 years. And that my dad does every day.

Before I know it, the fall sunshine is welcoming me back. I don’t hear the door close with a metallic smack. All I hear are soft footsteps and the sound of sobs leaving my lips. I blink and feel Robbie’s arms go around me.

“I’m scared, too,” he confesses, tears choking his words that echo my silent ones.

“I’m so afraid that he is, too,” I reveal into his neck that soon grows slick with my tears.

“Did you notice how he looks?” Robbie asks into the crown of my head, his lips moving against my hair. I feel his warm tears meet my scalp.

“Mmmhmm. He’s so pale. And he’s lost weight.”

“Yeah, and he tries not to show it, but he’s tired,” Robbie adds in. His chest shakes underneath me and I hear him hiccup from the crying. “I dunno if he’ll even eat. It looks like he hasn’t been recently. There’s like nothing in the fridge, Ree. We need to buy him groceries. It looks like he hasn’t left the house in days.”

All I can do is nod, and I do. Because the tears are too thick, and what am I even supposed to say? How do I put these terrible feelings into words, much less ones that make sense?

“I know, Ree, I know,” Robbie coos soothingly.

But somehow it brings me comfort to know that Robbie is feeling all of the same things and having all of the same thoughts as me. Stupid twin intuition or not, I just know. And at the same time, it makes my heart squeeze harder in pain.

“Kids, come on!” We hear our dad call from inside the house.

I leave Robbie’s arms and find his tear stricken face looking down at the ground. I brush the hair out of his eyes; the hair the same dark chocolate color as mine. His eyes the same ice blue as my own meet mine painfully. I swipe my finger under them to catch the tears. His fingers wrap around my hand and give it a squeeze.

“Let’s go eat lunch with our dad,” he mumbles, his voice still shaky.

I nod and squeeze it back. The same hand I’ve been holding ever since before I was born.

My partner in crime for life.

My twin.

“Go and splash cold water on your face, it’ll help. You can always say that I splashed soap in your eye.”

“Yeah, and how’s that going to sound if that happened to both of us?” he questions, pulling me by the hand into the house with a laugh. I make sure to close the door quietly before following him up the staircase. The sound of our dad’s whistling carries up the stairs and to my ears.

I savor it.

I never want to forget the first music I ever heard, and the one that never fails to calm me. Next to his soothing voice.

My daddy.

The rest of our day was better, but worrying about my dad was always at the back of everything. Silent, yet nagging. It interrupted all of the moments.

The laughing over a plate of home-cooked food.

The jokes and stories that passed the time of washing dishes.

The traditional walk around the block.

Our visit to the local library’s book sale.

Dad’s usual drive around town filling us in on everything we’ve missed.

So and so died.

She had a kid.

They got married.

They’re building this there.

That bloke went to jail.

It disrupted watching reruns of Doctor Who on BBC.

It returned after a cozy mid-day nap at dad’s elbow, strong as before.

It nagged at the back of my head when the phone would ring.

It sat in the circles of Robbie’s eyes when they locked with mine.

It filled the empty spaces between our conversations.

That question sat at the back of my head and in the pit of my stomach all day. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask it. Because I couldn’t confront the possibility of hearing the answer I dreaded most.

“Boy, you make one good pizza, baby girl,” my dad smiles as he stretches his arms to the ceiling.

I nod, slapping an automatic smile on my face. It doesn’t stay long when my eyes carry over to his plate holding the third slice he couldn’t eat. Another detail I noticed that’s unlike him. Because I can’t stop noticing them, and each one hurts more than the last.

Before I can stop it like all of the other times, my vision grows blurry. I feel my throat take after it and I couldn’t swallow if I tried. I lift my eyes over to Robbie across the small kitchen table, and it takes a second. But he feels me looking at him and hesitantly makes eye contact with me. He nods after a second. Watching the tears fill his eyes makes the first one fall from mine.

I sniffle out of habit and see my dad turn to look at me out of the corner of his eye. That parent hearing, that intuition. Heat rises to my cheeks and I hear my name leave his lips. Then he turns to look at Robbie and sighs.

“Dad, I can’t pretend anymore. I’m sorry, but I can’t. We can’t,” I say, my voice breaking at the beginning and staying that way. Tears shadow all of my words, and they only grow worse when I feel Robbie grab my hand under the table. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay because we know that it isn’t,” I finish, finally taking the next dreaded step. I look my father in the eyes and find in them the answer I’ve been searching for all day long.

His ice-blue eyes, the same color as mine and Robbie’s, stare back at me. They too are full of unspent tears, but it doesn’t last long. Soon they are falling down his cheeks stubbly with graying hair. His long, tan fingers comb through his hair the same shade as that of the hair on his children’s heads. Gray streaks speckled throughout fall from his fingers when he lets go. He clenches his hand into a fist that hits the table. Dad stares it before he lets it relax.

Looking back up, my heart lurches when his eyes reconnect with mine. Because I know what he’s going to say, and I don’t want to hear it.

“I have prostate cancer . . Stage 2. That’s all they know right now.”

Dropping Robbie’s hand, the kitchen chair moves back with a whine. I put one foot in front of the other before my hand is opening the door. My resolve falls when I reach the last cement step, and my legs can’t go any further. My butt lands on the step and I fall into myself. I feel the tears spill from my eyes and coat the legs of my jeans. Loud sobs leave my lips as my entire body shudders with each one.

No. No. No. No. No

No, not my daddy.

Why my daddy?

Why my daddy who had to put up with an awful wife for years?

Why my daddy who gave his children everything they wanted?

Why my daddy who gave so much to everybody else?

He gave so much and did so much and this happens to him.

No. Not him. It has to be some mistake.

I can’t lose my daddy.

I lost my grandpa and then Harry.

I can’t lose another person I love.

I can’t imagine not hearing his voice on the other side of the phone. Or not getting his hugs that seem to fix everything. Or hearing his whistling or god awful singing.

I can’t live without my dad.

Sniffling, my fingers search blindly for my phone. Finding it in my back pocket, I turn my head slightly to look through blurry eyes. Unlocking it, I press on the app I look for. My fingers race across the screen with each number. Then, the name inside of my head shows up on the screen.

Harry

My thumb wavers over the phone icon. I swallow and feel another tear hit my cheek. How is it that I haven’t heard your voice or seen your face in almost 9 months, and yet it’s the only one I want right now?

I close my eyes and feel my forehead return to my knees. Pressing a button, my phone locks with a clicking sound. My arms wrap around my knees pulled to my chest, and I feel every tear. And every thought.

Until minutes later when a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me into their chest. I let my head fall onto them as it shakes with a sob. And then another pair of arms wrap around us. I feel a kiss to my forehead before the stubbly cheek tickles the top of my head.

“I’m not going anywhere, kids. I s-still need to see you lot get married. I need to watch you kick ass and become a lawyer. And walk Ree down the aisle, and make sure Bee names his firstborn son after me,” my dad cries, pulling his two children into the confines of his trembling chest. Robbie and I laugh, and our dad’s weak one echoes our own. “I’m gonna fight this. I might need your help, but I’m not giving up that easily. Your old man’s not a woosy.”

Laughs surround our tears as I hold onto my dad and my brother. A large part of my small world.

“I’m not going anywhere, dad,” Robbie gets out with tear-soaked words.

“And neither am I, daddy,” I echo, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck.

I peek my eyes open and find Robbie on the other side of my knees. His head is lying on dad’s other shoulder. He reaches a hand across and intertwines his free hand with the one not wrapped around our dad. Unspoken words pass between us. After a few seconds, I know that the words we just spoke we promised to not just our dad, but to each other.

We ask questions and he answers. He’s known for only a day or two. The appointment last Tuesday was for a checkup like he said. They were able to do the biopsy later in the day. We cry into each other, feeling the same fear and pain. Uncertainties sit in the air between us as the sun sets behind the oak trees in front of us. The scene in front of me couldn’t look any different from a night of my childhood.

More than anything, I wish I could go back to one of those days. Ice lollies on the front steps sitting on dad’s jiggling knee. Him trying to get me to laugh. By his fingers tickling my ribs. His face contorting into funny faces. Or his imitations of characters I watched on the telly. His wrinkles and gray hairs gone. As well as his cute little beer belly. Mom calling for me to get in the bath with Robbie from inside the house. The Rolling Stones playing on the radio inside. Sounds of neighbor kids mingling with the music, as well as dogs barking. But we stay there and watch the shades of the rainbow paint the sky.

Although I know that I can’t go back, I let myself sit in that safe memory for a moment longer. Because sitting on my dad’s strong, tan knee in that 4-year old moment, everything was okay. And I want to enjoy that for a few minutes longer before I have to return to reality. Before I have to start living in a reality where things won’t be okay for a while, because my daddy isn’t okay. And because of that, neither am I.

I don’t know when I will be again.

My footsteps echo on the tile floor. Each one makes a sound with its own name, like in the Dr. Seuss books my mum would read to me when I was a kid.

Plop.

Klopp.

Dopp.

“Would you bloody leave already? I’m sick of seeing your bleeding face,” a voice quips from behind me.

I turn to find Myles following me. He titters with a smirk covering his stubbly face.

“Oh, would ya shuddup?” I return with a shake of my head, combing my fingers through my hair, but not much hair greets them.

“I thought you were done putting in these late nights,” he comments, his steps echoing my own now.

Pushing open the door to the supply room, I step up to the copier. “Nah, I still have sum stuff t’ finish up. Gotta prep fer my case that starts Monday,” I answer him, punching in my code on the touch screen.

A long ‘ah’ leaves his lips as he rummages in something behind me. Probably knicking some more of the nice pens before they’re gone.

“Well, I’m not a workaholic like you, so I’m leaving work before 5 on a Friday,” he tells me, assuming that I care. I chuckle, shaking my head at his pompous words. The copier sounds back at me, and takes the paper away with a woosh. “Please don’t bloody sleep here again. I don’t wanna have to hear complaints from the cleaning staff. And I don’t wanna have to pay you more than I have to.”

“I pay meself, ya cheeky bastard,” I scoff, turning to find him grinning as he stands with a foot out the door.

But his smile falls and along with it comes a squeeze on the arm from him. “Really, Hare, if you need to sleepover here I don’t mind. I know it wasn’t a nice joke . . I’m glad to see you’re doing better, though. Meaning, not as many empty bottles in your bin,” Myles continues softly. My amused expression falls when the seriousness arrives in his tone. “Yeah, I noticed ‘em, mate. Glad they’re not there anymore. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Keep at it.”

All I know to do is nod. He returns it and I watch the back of his blonde head walk away. I sigh, picking up the stack of papers waiting on the tray. I grab the original and rummage in the drawers until I find a binder clip. I fasten the papers together as I take my time walking back to my office. It’s even a little quieter than a few minutes ago. When I glance at my watch, I see why. It’s 5 o’clock on the dot.

Myles is gone.

Amelia is too.

Mick’s office door is dark and closed.

So is Rory’s, to no surprise, because he probably went out for drinks with My.

Rose is still working hard behind her closed door that classical music trickles out of.

Pete nods at me as I pass him in the hallway with an empty mug. Probably on his way for a refill.

But another person is still here. I see him before he sees me, but when he does I follow him to the shiny metal sliding doors.

“Ya aren’t anxious t’ get a start on yer weekend like e’rybody else? Or did somethin’ in IT break an’ ya gotta fix it?” I ask, stepping onto the elevator.

“Not really. It’s supposed to rain all weekend, so what’s the fun in that?” Asher replies, stabbing a random button. By now, I know the drill.

Push a random button and we have that long to talk.

About her.

“Good ol’ Fall rainstorms,” I comment, and he nods silently.

I hum a tune as the elevator dings with each floor we pass. And he doesn’t say a word, and yet neither do I. Because the point of these secret meetings is for him to talk. And for the most part, I just listen. It’s a silent understanding by now, or so I think.

“Yer makin’ me nervous not sayin’ anythin’,” I say, trying to laugh and offset the awkwardness. But it doesn’t help. And neither does the distraught look on his face when he meets my eyes.

“I need to tell you something,” he confesses quietly.

“Well ya, tha’s kinda tha whole point o’ these secret elevator meetin’s,” I smile, trying again to liven up the atmosphere. But he doesn’t smile, or crack a joke.

The smile I was toting around falls, and my mind swarms with thoughts.

Scary ones.

Worrying ones.

Questions.

Worst-case scenarios.

“Asher, i-is Becks okay? Did something happen?” I hurry, the words tumbling from my lips.

“Yeah, she’s okay, Harry. I guess you could say that.”

“Well, ‘s she hurt? Did she get inna accident? Break a bone? What ‘s it?” I ask, question after question spilling out.

“No, none of that,” he answers, shaking his head emphatically. “She’s fine, physically.”

“Then what?!” I continue, prodding him for answers that he won’t give up.

But the last part of what he says gets me. It hints at what he’s about to say, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. It doesn’t pull a relieved sigh from my lips like I wish it could, but it’s not like that.

When the gleaming metal doors slide open on the first floor, nobody is waiting there. Asher doesn’t give me time to look if anybody is coming, because he presses another button. Now, I know it’s serious. Pushed another button for extra time. Something happened.

“Asher-.”

“She called me crying last night,” he begins. His voice is quiet and he sounds like he’s trying to keep the emotions out of it, but they’re heard in every word. “Her dad found out he has prostate cancer, and she’s a mess. I dunno how to help her, or if you could either. But I just hate seeing her in pain and upset,” he reveals, the words loaded and dark.

I feel my back hit the railing on the wall, but I didn’t know that I was backing up into it. Something inside of my chest falls and for the first time in weeks, my thoughts are flooded with her. And I’m worrying about her, missing her, and wanting to hear her voice. I’m feeling all of the things and thoughts I’ve done such a great job at suppressing for the last few weeks.

Now, I feel myself fill with regret at that because once again I want to drown the feelings.

Because I’m hurting thinking about all of the hurt and pain she’s feeling.

“Yeah, I know whatcha mean,” is all I can say, because how the fuck do I put these thoughts into proper words? “Did she say anythin’ else ‘bout his diagnosis? Stages? Surgery? Chemo?”

“It’s still early, she doesn’t know a lot yet. I guess nobody does. He only just told her and Robbie last weekend. She’s trying to figure out how to rearrange her life to help take care of him,” Asher explains. I nod because that’s what you do when you don’t know what to say.

I don’t get a chance to ask any more questions, because the doors slide open again. A red-headed gentleman steps off 17 and I decide to step on. Looking over my shoulder, I meet eyes with Asher. “Thank you, Asher . . I mean it.”

He nods and I return it before turning around and walking back to my office. Goodbyes past between Rose and I, her long blonde curls dancing on her shoulders. Thunder clouds boom overhead and seconds later, I hear the rain begin falling onto the skylights. It makes the sounds from another Dr. Seuss book.

Splatt.

Boom!

Dibble Dibble.

Dopp Dopp.

Country music pours from Pete’s office, bringing a confused smile to my face. But it only stays for a second, because my thoughts return to Becky. I sigh, twisting open my office door. I stop in my tracks when I hear my Fleetwood Mac ringtone filling my office.

But it stops, and only then do my feet awake. Rushing over to my desk, I drop the stack of copies next to my computer. Forgetting them and working on prep work for my case, I shuffle through the mess on my desk. I lift up papers. Move books. Toss pens aside. Rearrange folders and pads of paper. And then I find it. The screen is black as it’s cupped in my hand.

But in a matter of seconds, I awaken it and see who I missed a call from. The breath in my lungs stills and my breathing halts. My ass hits my chair with a sigh, and I wheel around to face the window. Angry storm clouds await me as rain falls hard against the foggy class. Tapping my temple with my finger, my thumb sits inches away from the screen. I debate whether to call the person back or not.

Why would I?

How can I?

Should I?

I don’t have to decide, because the voice of Stevie Nicks spills from my phone’s speakers. And the image of that person’s face fills my screen. Their smile. Their magical eyes. Without hesitation, I slide my thumb across the screen. And press it to my ear.

“Hullo?” I say slowly, barely loud enough to hear myself. Because I can’t believe it.

“Harry?” the voice replies. A question frames their familiar accent, but something else does too. Thick tears.

“Becks . . are ya okay, love?”

#the assistant #pa harry #harry styles #harry styles au #fanfiction #wattpad #fanfic #writing #harry #lawyer harry #lawyer au #harry au #one direction

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ngame989 · 5 years ago

Text

“Onward” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 7

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox

Editing: @toxicpsychox, @seddm, an IRL friend

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Bloodlines clash over the past on the first anniversary of the Cleaving, while Star, Marco, and others try to focus on looking forward.

Comic Page

Masterpost

Sorry for the big delay. In the meantime, we did a pretty massive in-character RPish Q&A session taking place in the time of the fanfic collection storyline just before this chapter, so check that out here! Post-summer schedules are settling in now, so hopefully we can get back on track for regular updates. See below for the text, hope you enjoy!

“Think we should head back downstairs soon?”

Star poked her head out from the closet to find Marco had taken his hoodie off and spread himself akimbo on their bed, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. “We probably should,” she admitted, turning the swords she held in her hands over a few times. Her own blade was relatively simple compared to the ornate craft of Marco’s falchion, the Cleaver. That name seemed especially fitting now, since it was exactly one year ago today that their new world was created. She carefully set them against the wall, still in their protective sheaths. “Ooooor we could just use my messiness as an excuse for why it took us extra long to find these!” she drawled out dramatically, giving Marco a sly grin. He finally tilted his head towards her and opened his eyes, treating her to his soft warm gaze while she kicked off her tennis shoes and adjusted her old sky-blue dress. Their day had begun only a few hours ago, yet she was already feeling drained, and his slight wince when she dropped onto the mattress, reclining against a wall of pillows suggested he mirrored her sentiment. “You OK?”

“If your uncle’s hug didn’t break something, your aunt’s sure did,” Marco mumbled, testing his joints for injury with a grimace before scooting himself further towards her and dropping his head into her lap. Normally she’d be all for the rowdy family party going on right under their feet, but today felt like it should be their day too. Earthni was a wonderful place for sure, but today was the anniversary of so much more for her. The perfect bliss of loving Marco, the terror of losing Marco, the overwhelming sadness of missing Marco, the enrapturing contentment after reuniting with Marco...

“Marco, Marco, Marco…” she singsonged, thoughts leaking out into words. Her left hand caressed his cheek while she tangled the fingers of her right in his hair; he closed his eyes and nuzzled further into her contentedly. Her smile grew all the wider as she upped the ante, squishing his cheek and poking his mole then finally honking his nose. After a few moments of trying his best to ignore it he started lazily swatting her hands away, but she persisted nonetheless. This adorable face was hers for the booping, dangit!

“Star.” His tone was firm, but she knew better than to assume he meant it.

“Yes?” she innocently crooned.

He caught her wrists and held them away from him. “What are you doing?”

“Having fun, silly.” She wriggled free and got a sneak attack in, pinching both cheeks at once. When he went in for the counter, she pulled back so quickly that he slapped himself, causing Star to fall backwards onto the pillow clutching her sides and laughing. Marco lifted himself off of her and onto his knees, and she caught only a glimpse of his cocky smirk before he dove forward, pinning both her arms above her. “Oh no! You got me, Diaz! I am at your mercy. Whatever shall I do?” Try as she might to keep up the mock damsel in distress act, she failed to suppress her giggles. Only a second later, he released her hands and planted a quick kiss on her lips before resting his head on her shoulder. Her arms wrapped tightly around him. When she’d made the fateful decision to risk leaving everything else behind for Marco, this was why, this was what she couldn’t see herself living without.

“Star… ow…” Her grip slackened and he wheezed in relief. “You definitely… got that… from your dad’s side of the family.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“Hello, dears.” Eclipsa’s voice rang from the doorway, catching them both off-guard. Marco yelped and rolled off of Star, flopping to the floor with a thud. “Don’t mind me, I was just sent up to see if you two were ready for your demonstration. I must say, everyone seems quite excited for it.”

“Oh heeeeeey, there’s the swords!” Star pointed with a totally convincing shocked expression. “Silly Marco, I told you they wouldn’t be under the mattress!”

Eclipsa laughed heartily enough to make the light purple hem of her summer dress sway around her. “There’s no need for excuses, dears. In my younger days, I would have killed to have Globby with me at even a single family outing. I’m not one to tattle on the tomfoolery of love. You should probably go, though, before any more Butterfly-Johansen friction spills over.”

“Uuuuugh,” Star groaned. Things had been pretty civil amongst all the various interdimensional families thus far, but she’d known it was only a matter of time before something happened. When she was a kid it was fun watching everyone punch each other off cliffs to vent their frustrations, but now it just seemed petty and pointless to her. Had they learned nothing from everything that happened? She helped Marco off the ground then grabbed their weapons for the exhibition spar that all their guests were apparently anticipating. He slid into his hoodie while she slipped back into her shoes, then they closed the door behind them and descended the stairs.

The Diaz living room was largely occupied by the Butterflies for the time being, while Star could hear the characteristic Johansen ruckus from the backyard. Wouldn’t it be nice if they could all just get along forever? Probably, but she could scarcely fathom how that might ever happen. She glanced around to find her mom trapped in conversation with Great-Aunt Etheria in the kitchen. Despite wearing more casual clothing, Mom was in total “queen” mode right now, politely tut-tutting at all of Etheria’s observations. Maybe that wasn’t the best term for it, but it was how Star had known her mother most of the time growing up. However, there was still no mistaking the strain in her expression: even the Queen Moon of her childhood couldn’t put up with Etheria for long, and Star had no idea how the mom she’d gotten to know in recent years could handle it for more than half a minute. When Etheria noticed Star’s presence and strutted towards the stairs, Star could see her mother breathe a slight sigh of relief before following.

“Ah, dearie, there you are. Come, come, let me see this magnificent blade I’ve heard so much about.” Eclipsa held it up, but the eldest Butterfly snatched it from her grip without even a glance before running her fingers all over the blade. “Fine craftsmanship, indeed… where did you get such a thing? I must commission the maker for a new display.”

“It was actually Buff Frog who recommended me an old friend of his, she’s really cool. She does experimental art with molten metal that’s really pretty-”

“Ah. Hmmph.” The woman handed the sword back to Star tersely. “Well, it is well-made, I’ll give it that.”

“Speaking of artistry,” Moon chimed in before Star could respond, “weren’t you saying something about Marco’s parents, Aunt Etheria?” Star and Marco glanced at each other anxiously.

The large woman perked up, scorn diminishing in an instant. “Oh yes, they’re wonderful. A poet and a sculptor, how splendid! It’s positively delightful to see such devotion to the most noble of endeavors. The graceful wielding of a blade or a brush are signs of a good temperament. I’m glad at least your family can appreciate the finer, more delicate things in life, boy.” Star cringed a bit, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Marco doing the same, but the tension she didn’t even know she had in her shoulders dropped. Despite the tone, it was nice that Marco was being accepted, but… yeesh. “Let’s get on with this display, shall we?” The group headed outside where the Diazes had taken advantage of their spacious backyard.

Star instinctively shielded her eyes with one arm, blocking out the blinding light of the sun. Two poles held a banner up above a table loaded with all kinds of meats and vegetables. ‘Butterfly-Johansen (and Diaz) Annual Picnic’. Marco’s parents had resisted inserting themselves for long enough that Star had scrawled the addition on herself. They were hosting the freaking thing, why shouldn’t they be an official part of it? The Butterflies who had followed them outside were audibly scoffing at the various Johansen men and women sweeping up armfuls of meats and jamming them into extra large tortillas that were still far too small for the task. Finally she found her dad, who was guiding cousin Rock through the various foods that had become a staple of his diet, and when he noticed her in kind he skipped over. “Star, honey, there you are! And Marco, my boy, tell me: did you have your first encounter with Grandpappy Bear? The man with the grey beard down past his knees?” Marco nodded at the clarification.

“Ha! My father used to tell me stories of how he’d vanquish foes by opening his arms to feign surrender. Many great men and women fell right for it- went for the hug and had the life squeezed right out of them!” His eyes narrowed intensely, getting right in Marco’s face, and Marco’s nose ruffled at the wild beard hairs.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Marco dryly responded. “My everything hurts.”

“Nonsense, lad. If you’re even still standing, you’ve done better than most! It’s like you’re part of the family already.” He clapped Marco on the back with a joyous laugh, and Star grabbed onto her boyfriend’s arm to keep him steady on his feet.

“Try not to break the boy,” Etheria sneered from the doorway behind them, joined by a few of Star’s aunts and uncles.

“They are quite talented at breaking things,” Heartrude murmured low enough that anyone farther away than Star probably wouldn’t hear.

“Aye, we’re just having fun with ‘em,” Aunt Crag hollered back. “From what Rivey tells me, he’s gonna be an honorary Johansen soon enough!”

Daaaaaaad. Star tried to bury the rising heat in her cheeks. While her brain was still putting itself back together, Marco had jumped between them with a nervous grin on his face. “So, swordfighting, huh? What’s the deal with that?”

“Yes, I suppose some entertainment is in order,” Etheria sighed. “Are you quite sure that we can’t stage a rousing game of Flags, Moon? After the last few cancellations due to…” Her gaze flickered to Eclipsa and Globgor briefly. “Circumstances on Mewni, and now the Butterfly Kingdom being dissolved altogether, I dare say some stress relief might do us all some good.”

“Hear, hear,” the Butterflies behind her chanted. Even a few Johansens were mumbling their assent, though they’d never be forthright with their agreement with the eldest Butterfly.

“Be that as it may,” Moon spoke up, “my decision still stands. If there’s anything I’ve learned these past few years, it’s the value of letting go of the past if it’s holding you back, and Flags, fun as it may be, just kept this feud going. We have our whole lives ahead of us. Perhaps it’s best if we can all learn to find that which binds us together.”

“She’s right,” one of the Johansen cousins added. Phew. Finally, maybe people were starting to see the sense in- “Since we don’t have to bother with politics anymore, maybe we just shouldn’t put up with them!” Oh for the love of- calm down, Star. Deep breaths. Though she tried to ignore it, a tiny voice in the back of her mind pondered those words carefully. Why were they trying to make the families get along? Sure, it’d be nice for its own sake, but it wasn’t like her parents were BFFs with any of their in-laws, either. Maybe it was selfish to think, but what did they get out of it?

As the tensions mounted more by the second, Star felt something prodding her clenched fists. She looked over her shoulder to see Eclipsa surreptitiously handing over her sword, while Marco already had been given his. Star took the hint. Too late to turn back now.

“EN GARDE, MARCO!”

***

To anyone else, the sun being blocked out completely in the middle of a summer afternoon would have been alarming, but for Eclipsa it was a most welcome sign. “Having fun, my love?” a deep voice boomed above her.

Globgor shrunk down to smaller than his default size, his form-fitting sweater vest and pants scaling appropriately, and dropped down on the grass next to his wife to hand her a cup of tea. She took a test sip: black, with milk and a generous serving of honey. He only ever put that much in when he thought there was something bothering her, and as always, he was correct. “I get the unfortunate feeling we’re not quite welcome among some of the clan, Globby. Especially those on our side. The Johansens seem quite fond of you, though.”

“Ehhhh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right, they’re definitely nice in their own way, but I think it’s only because I’m strong. They kept laughing about eating people, and said maybe Etheria would be a gourmet meal.”

“Well, that is a perfectly acceptable reason to like you, dear,” she crooned, placing her free hand on his arm. “But yes, that is… troubling.” It didn’t surprise her, really; it had taken her nearly a year to find her place within the small portion of the Butterfly family consisting of just Star and Moon. Eclipsa had accepted being an outcast from the remainder of it, given her supreme infamy in Mewnian lore, but it wasn’t in her nature to sulk, and in all fairness it had been a good year for them. Perhaps she hadn’t been the best at guiding her people safely through dangerous times, but she still had earned respect and camaraderie from much of Monstertown. Rebuilding the town after Mina’s destructive rampage had been a satisfying effort, and she still had far more time to enjoy the company of her family than she ever could have dreamed.

Taking another soothing sip, her gaze wandered over to the only other people she knew that needed this time to be together as much as she had. Star’s combat style was fierce, unrelenting chaos guided by warrior’s instinct, but Marco balanced it perfectly with a keen eye for when to defend and when to counter. Eclipsa had guessed where they’d end up from quite literally the first moment she’d met Star, and where they complemented each other perfectly as a team, they were equally matched as opponents. The shimmering steel clanged over and over, neither combatant spending more than a handful of seconds on the backfoot at a time. Marco deftly ducked under a ferocious two-handed swing and jabbed forward, so Star rolled with her momentum to dash backwards. She was about to back into a cactus behind her when Marco kicked off the ground and lunged towards her, grabbing her free hand and twirling her to the side, eliciting hoots and hollers from the enthralled crowd. They both giggled before squaring their stances, and combat resumed.

“They’re quite extraordinary, aren’t they?” Eclipsa turned away from the match in progress at the sound of Moon’s voice. Globgor extended an enlarged arm towards a chair leaning against a picnic table and dragged it over for her.

“They’ve both turned out to be some of the best of us. Even with all my strongest magic, I wouldn’t want to get between them. It looks like they could keep this up forever.”

Moon raised an eyebrow and folded her hands in her lap, sipping from a mug with an ornate floral pattern. Royal status or not, Moon had a taste for the finer things. “I wasn’t talking about the swordfight, Eclipsa.”

“Nor was I.” Eclipsa playfully smirked, and Moon conceded the point with the two sharing a knowing look.

Globgor shrunk and hopped onto Eclipsa’s shoulder, gathering some of her flowing green hair with his tail as a headrest and reclining into her neck. “Wouldn’t it have been nice to be like that at their age? We only ever had minutes at a time to ourselves, and it’s not like we could just use giant mirrors or big glowy portals to chat whenever we wanted.”

“True enough, my love, but Star had been devoting everything to keeping an entire kingdom afloat at age 15 for half a year, and Marco’s own service merited knighthood in less. Even if we debate the details, I’m not sure I envy them.” She gently ruffled his hair with her fingers. “And besides, we’ve had the last year, and however many more follow to do whatever we wish.”

Globgor smiled back up at her, hugging one of her fingers. “You’re right, dear. Oh Moon, that reminds me, how are those big plans you mentioned a few weeks ago?”

Moon crossed her arms, frowning slightly. “It’s not anything that big yet. I’ve... just been gathering some information. Wrathmelior was quite helpful in finding Historia Homewnum for me, it’s older than the Butterflies themselves. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with it yet, but I want to talk to Star first.” She turned away from Eclipsa and Globgor, gazing with a solemn smile towards her daughter who was laughing hysterically as she chased Marco down and tackled him into the grass, weapons forgotten. “How we look back on Mewni requires guidance from those looking most forward.”

“How do you look back on it, Moon?”

Her brow furrowed as she took one sip, then another, clearly lost in thought. By the time she spoke, the entire glass had been drained. “I’m not proud of many of the things I did, or even those I felt I had to do, in my time as queen, but it’s a legacy left behind nonetheless. The people of this world deserve to know it as it was, sometimes noble and sometimes flawed.” A shout of “why I never!” was heard from the distance, and everyone turned to see one of the younger Butterfly cousins hastily retreating from an encounter with Johansens. “Very flawed,” Moon sighed. “The Johansens at least mean well, in their own ways, but my side… well, let’s just say it’s a good reminder of why the Cleaving was necessary. My apologies for any trouble they’ve caused.”

Eclipsa laughed sardonically. “Until quite literally hundreds of years after she perished, my own mother would have drawn and quartered me just for being in love. Family problems are nothing new.”

Globgor hopped off her shoulder, enlarging as he pointed across the spacious yard closer to Moon and River’s yurt, which had become a veritable house in recent months. “Is that River?” Eclipsa squinted to block out the sunlight and get a better view, and sure enough he was locked in a struggle with Heartrude, who was trying to wrestle a large drumstick out of River’s teeth.

“In all fairness, Moon, the Diazes are excellent chefs. I wouldn’t blame anyone for that level of passion over the catering,” Eclipsa sniggered.

“For heaven’s sake…” Moon grumbled while dragging her hands down her face. “River!” She darted off towards the scene, leaving Eclipsa and her husband alone once more.

A few of the others glanced over their way, but none responded. Globgor grew a little more and stretched his limbs before sprawling himself out on the ground, yelping sheepishly when his actions knocked the chairs over. That’s my Globby. Eclipsa giggled and jumped over the wreckage into his arms, using his chest as a pillow. They both loved their daughter more than anything, but time for just the two of them was always welcome. “There are certain advantages to not having much of an audience…” he said, chuckling and gently pulling her closer for a kiss. When she’d first started secretly dating monsters in her youth, the Mewman lore had maintained that size-shifters were clumsy oafs when large and insidious creeping vermin when small, and that was saying something since the pages written about the middle ground weren’t exactly flattering either. No matter his outward appearance, he always knew how to handle her with precision and grace, and they’d worked up a complete comfortability with the shifts in their daily lives. One of Globgor’s favorite amusements was trying to solve any mundane issue he could with only size-shifting, leading to some incidents such as the shelving unit they’d had to rebuild after he tried expanding in a confined space to reach some baking ingredients at the top, but it never failed to amuse her. They flirted in the grass until they’d lost count of the minutes, uncaring of who may have been looking at their innocent (by their standards) shenanigans, until the sunlight in the corner of Eclipsa’s eye went dark once more.

The moment that it took for Globgor to stop being distracted by her kisses lasted about as long as the time it took her to recognize that the usual cause of this was already beneath her, and both snapped to attention together. “Gotcha! Now we’re even-steven,” Star gloated.

All four eyes below her blinked a few times. “Um, it’s Globgor, not Steven.” The other three looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. “What, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing, darling,” Eclipsa responded. They both stood up, brushing any stray grass marks off their clothing. “Excellent fight, dears, though I’m afraid I was too, ahem, preoccupied to catch the ending. Who won?”

“Star did,” Marco said.

She poked him in the cheek, beaming with pride and doing a little dance. “First time, too! I was like, swing, swing, slash and I did this really cool twirl and knocked it right out of Marco’s hands. I did it!”

He wrapped an arm around her affectionately, which also served to calm her antics. “I was off-balance from pulling you away from the cactus,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Love made you weak, Diaz, but I love you for it.” She nuzzled into his shoulder and he rested his head against hers. “Anyway, how are things going for you guys?” Star wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at them.

“The party is delightful. It’s so nice to get to celebrate with everyone, even if there’s the occasional spot of friction.” It wasn’t worth troubling Star and Marco over; this celebration was in service of them, in a way.

“The Butterflies don’t seem to like us too much, and I think the Johansens like us for not so great reasons,” Globgor ever so helpfully stated. Well, there goes that idea.

Star growled under her breath. “Why are they always like this? It seemed like things were turning around after the last Flags,” she moaned.

Marco shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, sometimes old grudges last a long time. I remember Uncle Miguel didn’t speak to his wife, Aunt Juanita, for 15 whole years because of a stolen enchilada. She’d even bought him one the next day, too. Probably explains why Cousin Bobby is a bit weird.”

Star puffed up her cheeks in indignation. “OK, I know this isn’t the point, Marco, but every story about your extended family just makes me want to meet them even more.”

“Maybe once the government sorts out all the passport stuff,” Marco said, “and maybe on their own, too. I’m glad your family likes my parents, but I’m, uh, not so sure how they would all get along.”

“Good to know.”

“Can’t you just eat like a well-behaved member of society!” The group heard from a distance away.

“I don’t want to be part of any society that has someone do the chewing for them!”

More and more Butterflies and Johansens clustered together in the center of the yard; it seemed like this whole debacle was about to reach critical mass. Eclipsa surveyed the scene carefully: Moon and River were trying ineffectually to calm it, and the Diazes watched from the sidelines, babies in tow. It seemed like they were the only ones left in action. Marco gathered them into a huddle, with Globgor shrinking down to the appropriate size. “Alright, how do we figure this out?”

“Families bicker sometimes, darling,” Eclipsa offered somberly. “Perhaps them getting along just isn’t meant to be.”

“I don’t get it, though! Okay, fine, they’re annoyed by each other, but who isn’t annoyed by family sometimes? Heck, even Marco grates on me when he says I should ‘eat less sugar’ and ‘eat something besides sugar’ and ‘stop pouring sugar into my soda until it becomes a thick paste’! Have you ever seen the nutrition labels on the Sugar Seeds you eat too?”

“Hey…” Marco pouted.

Globgor raised a hand. “Well, Star, healthy eating is an important-”

“Not the time!” she growled.

Marco squeezed her shoulder, which calmed her down enough for him to speak. “Well, when Uncle Miguel and Aunt Juanita’s feud finally ended, it was because his brother stole one of his enchiladas and then gave it back, so they made up really quickly. I guess that helped him realize he didn’t even know why he was still being so mean about it. So maybe if we just got them to realize their issues are normal…”

“They could just be annoyed by each other normally,” Star finished. “Marco, you brilliant man, you.”

Folding her hands in contemplation, Eclipsa finally spoke. “All well and good, but how? Even though my time was 300 years ago, I don’t think much has changed in just how stubborn any of these royal families can be. They’re not just going to give up hating each other so easily.”

Globgor’s tail swished up against her in excitement. “Remember when you helped me become a vegetarian?”

“Yes, of course.”

“For a while, I still thought about eating Mewmans every single day, so you made all those veggie-filled scarecrows for me to find. They weren’t that good.”

“Not my best work, I admit.”

“But being able to still have some way of scratching that itch was what helped the most, and now it’s not even a problem anymore!”

“So you’re saying we just need a way to still let out all their aggression without doing any serious damage, then. Globgor, you brilliant man, you.”

Rafael and Angie poked their heads in between Marco and Globgor. “If I may contribute a suggestion…” he said.

“Aaaa!” The other two couples stumbled back in shock.

“Sorry, we heard you from over there and we had an idea. You’re not that good at being quiet,” Angie laughed, ruffling Star’s hair.

“When I was growing up,” Rafael continued, “we used to always play silly games in the backyard and everyone got very competitive over it. I think I have some of the equipment still in the shed. Maybe a friendly competition is in order?”

“I love it!” Star shouted, her eyes lighting up with joy. She stuck her hand into the middle of the group, grinning fiercely at the gathered crowd. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s stop our families from killing each other over petty grudges. Globgor, lift all the equipment. Nachos can help too, she should be coming back from her afternoon stroll right about now. Mr. Diaz, set it all up. Eclipsa, Mrs. Diaz, plan the rules of the competition. Marco, let’s go try to distract my family. Team Family on three!” Regardless of whether it would work, Eclipsa felt quite enthusiastic about this as well. She couldn’t say whether it would work, or how it might impact her own standing within the group, but the simple fact that there even seemed to be a chance to set things in the right direction for Star’s family at all was far more than she’d ever had the chance to do in her past.

“Alright, on three,” Eclipsa said, leading the charge. “One, two, three, family!”

***

Marco followed Star across the yard, needing to jog to keep up as she pulled him forward by the hand into the center of the ruckus. Moon and River had their backs to each other as they tried to keep the seething rage from either side at bay, but a few people had already crossed the battle lines and an all-out brawl was beginning to erupt.

“Don’t worry Mom and Dad, we got this,” Star confidently shouted over the din. Admittedly, Marco was a bit less certain than she was that this would work. He was the odd one out in terms of his upbringing, and Star’s families honestly spooked him a little bit with their intensity. The Diazes were quirky, sure, but like most other things on Mewni, this whole situation just seemed amped up to 11 all the time. Still, he wanted to see it through for Star’s sake, if nothing else. So much of what they’d gone through was due in some way or another to family disputes, it was very clearly a personal affront to her. “Alright, everyone, settle down!” Didn’t work. “Butterflies! Johansens! Could you please just stop-” Even at the top of her lungs, nothing changed.

River pushed her back a step. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ve got this.” He inhaled enough air that his bare chest visibly expanded. “QUIETTTTTTTTTTT!” Dead silence hung in the wake as every member of the families turned their full attention towards Star, Marco, and her parents. One Johnasen even paused mid-headlock of Heartrude. “Listen to my daughter speak!”

“Thanks dad. Hello, everyone!”

“Hello, Star,” the crowd mumbled hesitantly.

“Butterflies, Johansens, I know you both have your differences. I know that nothing I’m going to say will make you just get along forever. But I have a question for you. Uncle Heartrude, you hate the Johansens for how they eat, but haven’t you ever been annoyed whenever Uncle Jimothy uses salad forks for meat?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t see how-”

Star pointed directly at one of her larger cousins, and even just a sideways look at the fire in her sapphire eyes inspired him as well. “And Boulder, didn’t you once say Rock was a snooty little pebble for waxing his shoulder-horns twice a day?”

“Aye, I did.” His thick brow furrowed and his voice came out a bit muffled from behind his enormous brown beard.

“But you still love each other like brothers, so why are you still trying to break Heartrude’s leg right now?”

“Oi, I guess I am,” he said, letting go of Heartrude’s leg. “Sorry about that.”

Star squeezed Marco’s hand in hers hard enough that he could feel her pulse beating rapidly in exhilaration.

“So sure, we all get mad sometimes. But instead of trying to kill each other over it, let’s just settle it like we would any regular family feud. With friendly, non-lethal competitive fun!”

River tapped her on the shoulder. “Um, sometimes the Johansens do actually settle them by-”

“Not now, Dad,” she forced out through gritted teeth.

“Right-o, dear.” He quickly hustled back to Moon, who was watching with a proud but cautious smile.

Etheria shoved her way through the crowd and confronted Star face to face. “That may all be well and true, but the Johansens spoiled our royal bloodline-”

“That was my own choice, thank you very much, Aunt Etheria,” Moon huffed, hugging River closer to her.

“Besides, I’m proud to be a Butterfly and a Johansen,” Star continued. “And so what if it’s not what you wanted for the ‘royal bloodline’? Earthni to Etheria, we’re not even royals anymore! Who cares about some stupid bloodline when my mom was able to actually be happy?"

“Traditions are important, child. Now, I’ll grant you that we no longer hold claim to a royal throne, but neither do you, so why should we listen to you anymore?” A few murmurs were heard among the Butterflies and Johansens both. How ironic that the first time all day they could agree on something was on their right to hate each other.

“Because… because…” Star floundered for the first time in her speech. Her hand trembled in Marco’s, and the Star he knew and loved wouldn’t have faltered until hope seemed almost completely lost. He had to do something. Think, Marco, think… the Johansens respected might, the Butterflies respected prestige, what did any of them have that could appease both? They were so upset about Flags being cancelled in the first place because both wanted its bragging rights so badly. Wait… that’s it!

Alright Diaz, you got this. Marco stood tall and squeezed Star’s hand back to let her know it was OK. “Because I, Marco Ubaldo Diaz, am the reigning Flags champion, and I say to do what Star says!”

“Marco, what the horse-flipping heck-” Star wheeled on him incredulously, but he quickly turned her back towards the crowds. Their gazes roved over the faces in the crowd. All of the fight had left them. His gambit had worked.

“Huh,” Star uttered matter-of-factly, still in shock. “What would I do without you, Marco?” she whispered to him under her breath, and his heart fluttered as it always did. “Alright, listen up, people! This isn’t about epic conflicts or generational feuds. You’ve got a problem with someone? Challenge them to a short, safe, and fun game to settle that score. Marco’s parents and Eclipsa and Globgor are in charge of the event planning. They’ll help you set everything up. May the best person at resolving all their conflicts win! Welcome to the first annual...”

“Game of Yards!” Star and Marco triumphantly shouted in unison.

“Remember to have fun!” Star shouted before tugging Marco’s hand away once more, but she steered them away from his parents and then further away from the entire party.

“Um, Star, what are you- where are we going?”

“Can we talk about something? I need to get away for, like five seconds.” Marco hadn’t heard her sound that exasperated in a while.

“Yeah, of course, let’s decompress. Anywhere special you wanted to go?”

Her gaze frantically darted around them. She’d taken them back towards the forest, near the edge of the territory their parents had acquired. “I don’t know, I just kinda walked. How about there?” she asked, pointing to a small hill in a clearing, covered by the shade of some Mewnian oak trees (thankfully, the benign sort). Marco nodded, and they both went over found a suitable spot.

“What’s on your mind?”

Star shifted restlessly after sitting on her legs. He tried to convey as much support as he could through the gentle caress of her hand laced with his. Even from hours after they’d met, he’d always been ready to be right beside her when she needed, and that resolve had only strengthened as the years went by. Once she’d gathered her thoughts, she began to speak. “Who am I, Marco?”

Of the many ways he’d thought this conversation could open, this wasn’t exactly one of them. “Huh?” was all he could mutter.

“It’s just… Etheria’s right. I’m not a princess anymore, and when all that went down I just wanted to be a normal teenager, but I’m not gonna be a teenager forever either, you know?”

“I understand.”

“Yeah, but when you turned down Eclipsa’s knighthood, already had a plan for stuff you wanted to do. Didn’t you say you wanted to go to college and all that junk? You can do that now since you finished high school, right?”

“Mhmm.” Marco fell back onto the grass, resting both his arms on his chest and staring up into the clear purple sky. “I- I guess I haven’t thought about it much since then, either. Mom told me that the college she teaches at was still taking students, and it’s still really close to home, and- and I thought about signing up but I wasn’t sure.”

She plopped down beside him, rolling over to face him and taking one of his hands in hers. “You should! Marco, whatever you want to do, you’ll be amazing at it because you’re Marco Diaz, and I’ll be right there every step of the way.”

“Thanks, Star.”

“I never had anything like that. I didn’t think about it too much when I was a kid, and then I was gonna be a queen because, well, that’s what princesses did. And then the first moment that I seriously got to thinking about what I wanted, kablam-o! Solarian warriors attack, magic’s gone, and Earth and Mewni merge. Once the craziness finally stopped, all I could think about was being with you. Don’t get me wrong, the past year just being with you and doing whatever we want has been incredible, but now I just need to figure out what else is out there for Star Butterfly, and honestly...” She squirmed uncomfortably and scooted closer into him, resting her head on his chest. “I’m scared, Marco. I know I need to ‘find my calling’, or whatever Mr. Candle might call it, but I have no idea how, and I don’t want to lose this either.” Her arms buried underneath him and held him closely. There was a bit of dampness that Marco could feel seeping its way into his hoodie, and that caused a few empathetic tears to well up in his own eyes.

He brushed them away with a sleeve and then hugged her tighter to him, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “We won’t, Star. Ever. Even if it takes a year, or ten, or a hundred years, or even if you never find some perfect job you want to do forever and ever, that’s fine! As long as you’re happy and fulfilled, that’s all that matters, and I’ll do whatever I can to help. Promise.” They rested in silence for a few moments, holding each other closely as thoughts of potential futures whirred in Marco’s mind.

Her chin lifted up and dug into his chest as she stared at him. “Any ideas?” Those Earth-sky-blue eyes that had filled him with a sense of purpose for so long now implored him to return the favor.

“Well, you’re not a princess anymore, but… maybe the stuff you liked doing as a princess could help? You’re a natural leader, you inspire people to be better than themselves, you worked so hard to make Mewni a better place.”

“Marcoooooo,” she crooned, and he lovingly pecked the blushes rising on both of her cheeks.

“For real, Star, you’re the coolest person ever, you could do whatever you put your mind to. Not long after we first met, you were terrified of all the princess duties, and you ended up figuring out how to do them the Star Butterfly way. Just remove the ‘princess’ part of it, and figure out whatever else you’re gonna do the Star Butterfly way.”

A teasing smirk rose on her face. “Weeeeell, I can think of at least one thing, mister…” she booped his nose with hers, and it was his turn for a fiery blush to arise. “You’re so cute to tease. Have you ever thought about what would happen if none of it happened? Like, if I never stopped being a princess and then I had to be queen someday.”

“A little? That whole year on Mewni was kinda a bit weird and all, with the squiring, and…” His voice dropped to a mumble. “Figuring out how I felt about you.”

“Right back atcha, there. But what if we’d still done all that, just without completely changing the world?”

“Being a knight would have been really cool, I guess, but the whole Lifelong Post thing… kinda weird. Maybe I could’ve been one without it, or something? Or maybe I’d have just picked you, officially,” he said, poking her nose. “A knight and princess being together is a story that’s, like, 1000 years old, after all.”

“That’s really sweet, Marco, but… nah,” Star dismissed him, turning over to stare at the same sky he was, folding his hands inside hers.

“Nah?”

“Nah. You wouldn’t have been a knight for long.”

“Oh yeah? How come?”

“If I was still a princess, then you’d be my prince.”

He jerked upward out of instinct, only stopping because of the weight on his chest. “Uh, Star? I, um, I don’t think that’s how noble ranks, um-” Stream of consciousness took over while he scrambled to collect his shattered thoughts.

“Princesses can do what they want, silly. I’d declare you Marco Diaz, Prince of Echo Creek, and your mom and dad could get little crowns, and there’d be all sorts of ridiculous contracts to sign. You’d be free to whatever you wanted on Earth, too! But we could still be together.” Her head tilted up and her eyes met his once more. “Forever.” The determination in those pools reflected love at him, and even with the impact from the gravitas of her statement, it still just felt natural, it felt right, like everything with Star always seemed to. She leaned upwards to kiss him, slow and soft and sweet as her hands ran over his face and through his hair as his reciprocated. When they finally broke apart, Star sat up, and the Sun framed her hair in the most beautiful way; Marco found himself needing a few more moments than usual to catch his breath. “I’ll always love you, Marco.”

“No matter what, Star, I’ll always love you too. Now come on,” he said, pushing off the ground to a standing position. “Let’s go win some Yards, my princess.”

“We just had a moment, Diaz. You get a pass, this one time… my prince.” She puffed up her cheeks indignantly, but a radiant smile cracked the facade almost immediately, clearly as lighthearted and giddy as he’d ever known her to be, and he felt much the same.

Their fingers intertwined as they dashed away towards their home once more, looking forward to finding their place in the world and - more importantly, perhaps - tag-teaming to kick some butt.

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #globclipsa #tgg svtfoe #fanfic

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imagine-loki · 5 years ago

Text

The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 5 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Thor agreed Brianna going to Asgard a good idea as Loki presumed and shielded her from Heimdall's sight as a precautionary measure. Before leaving, the brother's sat observing Little Warrior lead Tony and Pepper to the couch and hand him a usb stick.

"What's this?" He asked.

"A computer virus. My revenge plan was to disembowel Jarvis if you hadn't kept your promise."

Stark eyed Loki who shrugged a shoulder. "Don't look at me. I only learned of it this morning."

"It's my creation, pretty nasty and should be destroyed." Said Brianna.

"How nasty?"

"It bears the potential to wipe out most of New York's power grids."

Tony was momentarily speechless. "I'll do that and am overjoyed you two became friends."

"Me too and sorry for being so rude when you touched my stuff."

"It's alright." Said Pepper.

"No it wasn't. You deserve to know why. Loki mentioned the homeless people right?"

"Yes."

"Dory was the first one I met. Taught me handy street smarts and helped shop for my boy clothes. Ran away from home because her moms boyfriend was a jerk. I encouraged her to call one day and when she learned they split up, convinced her to go home. Really smart person. Dreams of becoming an Astronaut. Anyway, she had a big crush on Captain America and gave me her favorite hat as a gift. Then I met Muriel. A mean looking older lady who was actually super sweet and protected me something fierce. Beat this guy up one night for trying to steal my blanket while cursing him sideways. She loved Chinese food and taught me self defence techniques, like how to poke a hole in someone's brain by shoving a chopstick up their nose."

Everyone's ears and attention piqued as Tony wondered if Muriel was a distant cousin of Sasquatch's. "Hopefully not on live subjects."

"No, silly. On a plastic skull she molded a face onto with clay. I paid for the supplies. Helping police identify people used to be her job in Arizona. Great way to kill zombies though. Best to behead them like with vampires and guarantee they've bit the bullet." Brianna then pulled a gold bracelet with a four leaf clover charm from her pocket. "Muriel was Irish and gave me this for good luck. It's too big so I carry it in my pocket. Before meeting you guys, they were the first people who were super nice to me. I fretted their gifts ruined in the wash."

"I'm sorry." Said Pepper.

"It's okay. I was just a little freaked."

'And nearly built a cave for the abominable snowman.' Thought Stark. "We were more worried about you after the fact."

"I could tell by your happy dance when I woke."

"Hey, badass did one too. In the hall. You didn't see."

Brianna giggled. "Thanks to you both for everything and I'm sorry for lying."

"Meh, we understand."

"I meant about not having a favorite Avenger. It's you uncle Cootyoodles. That's why I sought your help first. The Black Widow was my next stop."

Tony pictured Nat teaching her how to yank teeth out with pliers and felt twice as relieved for keeping that promise. "Nat's eccentric and hates zombies. I'm way more fun." Brianna suddenly hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. "Awe, Little Warrior. Friends forever?"

"Damn straight!" Then she did the same to Pepper. "I forgot to explain why you're a badass role model. Working so hard to become CEO of a massive company like Stark Industries and executing all that embodies? You rock! I hope to grow up as astute, diligent and athoritative. Maybe I'll run a company one day."

"You already possess those traits and will exceed my achievements."

No one knew that better than Loki who cleared his throat. "Grandmother and Grandfather go to bed early, Min Lille."

"One more minute, please?"

"Alright."

She studied Stark, pondering the best way to implement her request. "You don't have to do this, but… Not all homeless people are bad or crazy like others seem to believe. Many hit hard times and the world is so expensive, they couldn't keep up. No one I met lived on the streets because they wanted to. There just aren't enough shelters or resources available. You're rich Tony and could help them. Will you try?"

As Loki had succeeded with Frigga, those beautiful pleading eyes won her case. "You really know how to pull a guys heart strings, kid. I promise."

Loki wasn't aware she'd intended to ask this, yet was so proud of her. "Min Lille?"

"I know." She politely replied.

"You have to go." Tony suddenly stood and darted for the hall. "Be back in a jiffy."

"Meet him by the elevator, or you'll never leave." Suggested Pepper.

He returned and handed Loki a loaded Iron Man backpack. "More things? Shall I conjure a crate for the bifrost?"

They'd already given her an overstuffed suitcase of clothes and toys and Stark held a gift bag in hand. "Be quiet, you. It's a peanut butter stash. Does Asgard have bananas?"

"Yes." 'Thank the Norn's.'

Tony knelt before Brianna. "I would've packed some tater tots, but you ate them all again."

She smirked. "My goof."

"Rascal. Try to ignore a wee, bitty smidgen, you aren't into girly stuff? We couldn't help ourselves with you off to Asgard."

Brianna pulled from the bag a pink baseball cap that said Warrior Princess in tiny diamond gems and proudly adorned it. "You sure know how to pull a girls heart strings."

"I put some Motown CD's in there too. Teach Dad to moonwalk." Loki sighed, pushed the elevator button and Tony playfully whispered. "From a distance. In case he trips over his own big feet." He hugged her again and summoned Jarvis.

"Yes, sir?"

"Our friend is leaving."

"Goodbye, Little Warrior." Said the AI.

"Bye. Sending you a virtual hug."

She joined Thor inside while Loki shook hands with Tony, his expression saying everything. "Any time. Now get the 'bleep' out of my Tower before I thieve your Daughter."

Brianna shouted as it closed. "There's presents on your bed! I'll miss you!"

Peppers was a black t shirt with gold letters that read Badass Role Model and Tony's was a monsterous box filled with tater tots.

"Don't do it, Butch. If you cry, I'm gonna cry." ***** Loki had purposely slowed the elevator allowing her time to give Thor a drawing.

"Mjolnir in a field of flowers? Thank you fair maiden."

"It's a scratch n' sniff."

"A what?"

Loki picked up Brianna. "You scratch the flowers, then sniff them. The effect is most appealing the stronger you inhale."

Thor took a whiff and wriggled his nose. "Quite the nostril tickler. What should they smell like?"

"Try harder." 'Doofus.'

He took another, looked cross eyed at Loki and began swaying. "...Brother..you…" Then down he went striking the floor with a thud the tip of his nose covered in sparkly dust.

"Sorry, uncle Thor."

Loki chuckled at her wince. "The spell is mild and shall soon wear off."

"Is he hurt?"

Loki let her down to hurle the hefty Thor over his shoulder. "Us God's are resilient. Your uncle once endured a skirmish with the Hulk." After escorting them through a portal and delivering Brother oaf to his bed, he lead Brianna through a second into some woods.

"That was awesome! Will you teach me how to do it?"

"Not in the near future. It's very complicated, darling and I'd hate to think you lost in another dimension." 'Or vanishing one day as an angry teen with a troublesome suitor I dream of throttling.'

"Okay." Brianna nervously scanned the area. "Now what? Carnivores hunt these woods."

"Northern Alberta is home to many. Never go outside without me and none will harm you."

"But wolves hunt in packs and grizzlies are bigger than you."

He booped her little nose. "I'll smell them before they smell us and neither possess deadly weapons in interdimensional pockets."

"Where our luggage is? I tried hiding bigger items in them and the darn things wouldn't come back. Hannah was furious, but I didn't care."

"What did you hide?"

"The back wheels of her Lamborghini, Gallardo. I overheard my Mother tell Claudia she got it from her rich boyfriend."

Loki recalled from spending time with Stark this wasn't a billionaire's vehicle, yet financially unattainable to the average Midgardian. "I see. Did she mention his occupation?"

"Plastic surgeon."

Brianna deserved that minor victory and although he wouldn't encourage it, one cannot preach vengeance a negative path when mapping their own. 'Perhaps he'll be useful to the sluts after I'm done.' "Ah. Care to see what I did while you slept last night?"

"You left me?" She confusedly asked.

He picked her up again. "It was necessary and I returned, yes? I won't abandon you, Og Min Lille."

"Never?"

"Never, darling. "Loki headed for a shack nearby nestled amidst some bushes. With its crooked roof, faded wood and door minus a hinge the structure looked ready to collapse.

"We're staying there?"

"Why not? I'll conjure an outdoor toilet." He teased. "Sheltered of course."

"Ewww."

"Come now. At night we'll have heated beds and during the day, roast squirrels on an open fire."

She scrunched her face in disgust. "Blech! I'd rather eat tree bark."

"You'll get an awful tummy ache."

They entered the dingy space and Brianna instantly focused on the filthy floor covered in forest debris. So intently, she didn't notice the sturdier frames of the structure only visible from within. "How will we keep the door closed and is that poop?"

Loki rolled his eyes at some turds in a corner. "The cabin is made of Brazilian Ebony."

"One of the strongest woods on earth." She commented.

He arched an intrugued brow. "Stained to appear aged, it's also bulletproof in light of human hunters. Consider the other materials deceiving movie props. The 'raccoon' poop is genuine." It vanished with a wave of his hand. "Now, did you mean that door?" It closed and he conjured a deadbolt onto the surface with a panel directly above. "Place your hand in the center?" Brianna did and it glowed green, spreading magic from the center throughout every surface like glowing, emerald fireflies. As they dimmed, Loki turned around. "Or this one?" The floor, suddenly cleared of debris had a sliding glass door in the center.

Brianna gasped in wonder, glancing between him and the mystery beneath. "Where does it go?"

"Did you think a sorcerer Prince would allow his Princess daughter to dwell in a shabby old shack?"

"Ancestry aside, I sincerely hoped not. Even an RV would've been better."

He chuckled at her frankness. "And you worried of uncle Thor bumping his head? The shacks purpose was added safety should a need arise and to keep our secret entrance hidden. "Once the outer door locks, only the interior alters. To outsiders, nothing changes." It opened and he carried her down a mutedly lit spiral staircase, each step progressively illuminating the space below.

At the bottom, she slid from his arm in awe. "Shut the front door! You 'definitely' have to teach me how to do this."

Min Lille was referencing conjuring. Another ability Loki thanked the Norns she didn't yet possess, having confessed so before requesting Tony and Pepper's gifts. "In time. Beyond that archway, another surprise awaits." Loki followed and suddenly pondered Brianna conjuring a future dwelling for herself and that troublesome suitor. 'Lessons commence when your forty.' ***** Thor woke to find two notes in his shirt pocket. One for himself the other, Astrid; 'Sleep well, Brother? We won't be returning to Asgard just yet. Please give this to my wife? I recommend waiting several days, discreet delivery and a hasty exit. A visit will follow and when interrogated, lie. Tell her Brianna came to you and don't mention her ice concoction. Unless you enjoy Father's company when several fries short of a happy meal. As I planned our escape without Tony's knowledge, do avoid his unnecessary panic and Pepper seeking our demise, by not telling our dear friend? Min Lille is safe.'

"That shyster." He grumbled. Jane returned in six days as would Astrid to a missing Loki. Waiting risked a molotov cocktail interrogation. His beloved and coronary inducing sister-in-law, banging down their locked bathroom door while the mighty Thor coward behind a shower curtain. Plus Maxi Waxis training schedule ended in two days. Bribery assured those lips zippered, but Heimdall would think his hastiness suspicious. He called to the trainee in the middle of the night, snuck into the palace and raced back to the observatory like the looney tunes road runner. "Spend it well nincompoo..eh he, Max. Asgard is lucky to have you."

Guilt ridden over her outburst and already missing Loki, Astrid returned in the morning to find the note.

Frigga was preparing to join her belly dancing instructor when she barged into the foyer and flung herself at the Allmother.

"Bwaaahahaa! I want a divorce!"

"Hells bells and bilgesnipe testicles. What has my shameless son done this time?"

"Frigga, your language." Scolded Odin.

She patted Astrid's back. "Oh shush. As if your cursing hasn't scarred the servants ears."

#Loki #others #submission #Submitted fic #The Slutty Webs one Weaves #lokilover9 #chapter 5

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brianprobablywill · 6 years ago

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A Good Day (Ben Hardy x Reader)

this is my submission for the big tropey writing challenge hosted by @supersonicfreddie ! i’d love some feedback for this!

2.7k words of fluffy post-borhap ben x reader with a nice helping of joey :)

also, i have absolutely no idea how to make tea, so forgive me for any discrepancies about tea that i might have written about lol

Joe was a good friend. Scratch that, Joe Mazzello was an amazing friend. The best friend you could ask for. He knew it. But sometimes, he truly wished he could just lock his two brickheads of best friends in a room and have them make out till they realized they were stupidly in love with each other.

He had to face the heat from both sides. Ben would go on and on and on about how beautiful Y/N’s hair looked, how lovely she looked in that skirt, how she was so kind and sweet and fucking amazing.

And so would Y/N. Ben’s blond hair, his beautiful lips, his smooth voice, and his stupid abs.

Truly, Joe Mazzello was a trooper. He had kept at it for two years. How he did it is a mystery to all.

But here he was, sprawled out on Y/N’s bed as she made herself presentable for Ben’s arrival.

“He’s not coming over for the first time, Y/N.” Joe scoffed, his feet resting on the wall. He picked at his cuticles, listening to everything Y/N was saying. “He’s been over a million times.”

“Shut up,” Y/N mumbled half-heartedly as she came over and sat down on the bed right next to where Joe’s head was. “Don’t do that,” she tutted, swatting as Joe pulled on his cuticle. Joe rolled over on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “All ready?”

“Yes.” Y/N smiled, flashing Joe her brightest smile.

Joe rolled his eyes playfully, sticking his tongue out as he sat all the way up. “You look beautiful all the time, and Ben sees it too. You don’t have to doll yourself up for him.”

Y/N leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “What if I say I’m dolling up for myself?” She wiggled her eyebrows at Joe.

Joe mirrored her actions, leaning forward himself as he commanded, “Then I’d say that lipstick isn’t dark enough, egghead.” He laughed along with Y/N, standing up as she did.

“Should I make some tea for him?” Y/N asked, only half waiting for an answer as she walked into the kitchen with Joe in tow.

“Do you even know how to make tea? Aren’t you a coffee snob?” Joe watched as Y/N filled up a mug with water and put it in the microwave. Joe chortled, “Ben is going to be downright scandalized when he sees this.”

Y/N stopped short of pressing the button, “Sees what?”

“Making tea in the microwave? You should be put behind bars!” Joe said, his British accent on point, all thanks to John Deacon. He propped himself up on the kitchen counter after busying himself with a jumbo pack of animal crackers. “I love you for keeping these for me, by the way.”

Y/N made her way over to Joe, pulling out an elephant from the jar. “Tell me how to make tea, Joe!”

“Do you have a kettle?”

“No.”

“Well, then Ben is going to have to make do with coffee.”

“I have an electric kettle.”

“Nope. Nothing but coffee’s bitter kiss for Benneth today.”

Y/N groaned, unhappy with Joe’s response. Ben still had half an hour to show up, so she pushed herself up on the counter herself, reaching in for another animal cracker just to get swatted by Joe. “Hey, I pay for these.” She argued.

“You should have thought of that before, birdie,” Joe booped her on the nose, before following the sound of the doorbell.

Y/N hung back. It was probably just a package she was expecting. But when Joe hollered for her, she got off the counter rather unceremoniously, sliding on her socks to the door.

Joe turned around, wiggling his eyebrows at Y/N as he pointed to the person at the door. “Look who it is, Y/N!”

None other than the Jones’s Ben stood in front of her — well, technically behind Joe — waving shyly.

“Hi, Y/N,” Ben greeted, letting himself in.

Joe began talking as he shut the door behind him, walking into the living room with his two best friends. “Y’know, Ben? Y/N can’t make tea.” He raised one eyebrow as Y/N scowled at him, continuing, “She was going to make it in the microwave!”

Ben opened his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline, before he sighed, relaxing again. “No problem, Y/N. I’ll buy you a kettle and show you how to do it,” he smiled.

Y/N could feel a blush creep up her cheeks. She needed a moment to cool off before she could behave normally in front of this handsome man. She excused herself to the kitchen, pretending she had something to take care of.

The moment Y/N had escaped to the kitchen, Ben spun on his heel, looking at Joe alarmingly. Joe was looking at Ben with narrowed eyes in return. “What?” Ben asked.

“Remember your reaction when I had tried to make you tea in the microwave? I can’t believe this.” Joe said, only partly joking as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ugh, shut up.” Ben snapped, sitting down on the couch next to Joe. “Did I take it too far? Am I making it too obvious that I like like her?”

Joe couldn’t help but laugh. “Like like? I swear, you’re like fifth graders.” He shook his head.

“Graders? As in plural?”

“Yeah, you and Y/N,” Joe informed like it was the most obvious thing.

“Stop teasing me!” Ben hissed, “Just tell me if I’m making it too obvious.”

“If you ask me, you’re not making it obvious enough, Benno. Y/N can you get the animal crackers on the way out?” Joe called, taking a tone of extreme nonchalance with Ben’s concern.

Ben sighed, sinking into the couch. “I just don’t want to annoy her too much.”

Joe laughed at that. He genuinely thought what Ben had said was hilarious. “Trust me, that is the last thing that she’s going to think of you.”

Y/N walked out of the kitchen just then, flinging the jar of animal crackers in Joe’s direction, shooting him a thumbs up as he caught it perfectly. She smiled at Ben, who straightened himself up at her sight, turning around again and walking into the kitchen. She fanned herself as she got over her embarrassment before getting the three mugs of coffee in her hands, precariously balanced as she tried to carry them out.

In the living room, Ben had his hands buried in his hair, his eyes narrowed. “You’re taking it too far, Ben.” He scolded himself. As he saw Y/N walking out with three mugs in her hands, he rushed up at once to help her out. He could hear himself in his head to stop being such a fucking sweetheart to her lest she finds out, but he physically couldn’t stop himself. He took two mugs from his hands, passing one over to Joe.

Y/N sat down on the floor, resting her back on the wall opposite the couch.

She could only watch as Ben stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, looking between Joe and Y/N for a good half a minute, before he decided to settle down next to Y/N.

Joe couldn't find it all more amusing if he tried. It was especially amusing today because generally it never went farther from quick smiles and batting eyelashes. But today Ben was actually doing something, no matter how tiny. His shit-eating grin only got bigger as Ben justified his reason for sitting down next to Y/N.

“Just so we can see you better, Joey,” He explained, trying to be solemn.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s a must,” Joe responded, trying to bite down on his smile as he played along. “How will the world turn if you both don’t look at me?”

Y/N actually laughed at that, giggling while Ben looked at Joe jadedly. Ben turned to look at Y/N, smiling when he saw her giggling.

“It’s funny!” Y/N said.

“Yeah, it is,” Ben smiled, “It’s funny.” He was looking at Y/N endearingly.

This only peeved Joe even more. He was so stumped that neither of these idiots could see how much they liked each other. He found it extremely puzzling. That after two years of stupid pining — pining that was quite obvious, by the way — they still couldn’t figure it out. It was going to drive him to the nuthouse if he didn’t do anything about it soon.

He decided he would try to give it a shot today. “Y/N?” He set his coffee mug down on the floor near his feet before standing up. “Could I speak to you for a minute? In private?” Joe pulled Y/N into her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked. She looked worried, “Did I do something?”

“Oh my god,” Joe mumbled, rubbing his fingers at his temple. “A few things. One, I need you and Ben to stop thinking you’ve done something wrong all the time - or if you’ve taken it too far - or if you’re annoying each other - or if it’s too fucking obvious to each other.” Joe groaned, trying not to let his temper rise. He loved his best friends a lot. And he only wanted the best for them. But sometimes it got a little annoying to keep up with them all the time.

Y/N’s eyes widened, taking in all that Joe was saying.

“Two, I gotta go,” Joe said quietly. He didn’t want to leave — he’d just wanted a quiet evening with his best girl — but he was sure it would do some good to her and Ben.

“What? No, don’t go, Joe!” Y/N put her hands on Joe’s arms, a distressed look on her face. “I thought we were going to spend some time together.”

“We’ll spend some time together tomorrow.” Joe smiled, “It’s Sunday, isn’t it?”

“Well, what are you gonna do, then?”

“I’m gonna pay some bills. Gonna get some work done,” he pulled the door open, holding his arm out for Y/N to walk out first. As she did, he pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her head.

“We were gonna watch The Emperor’s New Groove,” Y/N mumbled.

“You can still do that with Ben,” Joe said.

“I want you there.”

“Well, then watch something else. And make use of your alone time, please,” Joe winked, grinning wide, although he felt just a little sad on the inside. The Emperor would just have to wait until tomorrow.

“Benyamo, I am going.” Joe shot Ben a salute.

“Going where?” Ben asked, getting up and walking over to Joe and Y/N.

“Going home. Got some stuff to take care of. Nothing to worry about.” Joe assured. “How much longer are you in New York?”

“Another two weeks,” Ben mumbled.

“Well, then I shall see you soon, my friend,” Joe said with finality, pulling him into a side-hug before he left.

Y/N spun to find a red-faced Ben.

Ben chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just you and me, now.”

“Yup,” Y/N said softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sounds good.”

As Y/N brought out a couple of blankets and some freshly popped popcorn, Ben selected a movie. The pair sunk into the leather of the couch as the beginning of Jurassic Park played. Joe never allowed Y/N to watch movies he’d been in whenever he was around, so she’d barely seen any. Sue her for having never watched Jurassic Park.

“Aw, look at tiny Joey!” She cooed, holding a hand to her chest. Ben crunched on some popcorn as he laughed along, albeit as if he was holding back.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” He asked, his voice strained.

“Sure,” Y/N helped, turning her body only slightly in Ben’s direction.

“Are you… never mind.” Ben mumbled, shaking his head as Y/N tried to coax him into telling. “Fine. Are you and Joe… a thing? Are you guys a thing?”

Y/N laughed, “Am I dating Joe?” She asked, her ears warming up. Her heartbeat quickened a little at Ben’s question. “No! Gosh, no.”

“No?” Ben repeated softly.

“Nope,” Y/N smiled. “I’ve known Joe since we were in diapers. He’s like my brother. I don’t have any siblings of my own, so Joe acts like one.” She shrugged, reminiscing about first meeting Joe for a quiet moment.

As if having stolen her thoughts, Ben asked Y/N, “How did you meet?”

“We lived next door. Our mothers would arrange playdates for us.” Y/N smiled, turning her attention back to the movie. She needed to see Baby Mazzello in his full potential. It was a cold night, so she rubbed her hands together to generate some heat.

She had a feeling Ben had his eyes trained on her. She couldn’t shake the feeling, so she turned to look at him herself, chuckling, “It’s cold, isn’t it?”

Ben nodded, pursing his lips together. He opened his mouth, closing it before opening it again. He unfurled his arm, inviting Y/N to shift closer. “Would you mind?” He asked, biting down on his bottom lip.

Y/N felt the loud thudding of her heart. Despite herself, she shook her head, “Not at all.” She scooted closer, letting Ben’s arm wrap around her shoulders. He rubbed his hand up and down, looking down at Y/N with a smile, getting a smile in return.

Y/N decided to test the waters even further. She leaned into Ben’s arm, letting her body relax. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“Never.” Ben said, turning his attention back to the movie.

Y/N was starting to get extremely comfortable, wrapped in a blanket and Ben’s warm embrace. She leaned her head on Ben’s shoulder, closing her eyes.

“You’re not going to watch?” Ben asked in a laugh.

“I’m getting sleepy.” She answered.

“Should I pause it then? So you can continue later?”

“You can watch it, if you’d like.” Y/N assured Ben. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“No,” Ben laughed, “I’ve seen it before. I don’t mind just sitting here. Unless you want me to leave.” He added the last sentence as an afterthought.

Y/N laughed. “Do you want to go back to your cold hotel bed, Ben?” She looked up at him through hooded eyes, the beat of her heart loud in her ears. She felt a warm coiling in her stomach. Her toes felt funny. A nice funny.

“You’re very close to my face,” Ben whispered, disregarding Y/N’s earlier question.

Y/N nodded, whispering back, “Yeah.” She licked her lips, “I like you, Ben.” She fluttered her eyelashes close.

Ben’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

Y/N nodded. “You don’t have to say anything.” Even through all the sleepiness, she hated this sudden surge of confidence her body had decided to send her. She still felt like getting up, locking herself in her room and screaming into her pillow till she couldn’t. But for some stupid reason, to her, it looked like her chances were not all that bad right now. So she stayed put.

“No,” Ben countered, bringing his hand to Y/N’s chin. “I like you too,” he whispered, closing his own eyes. He pressed a kiss to her nose; the gentlest of kisses. It was almost only a brush of his lips. He brought his lips on her then, simply pecking once again.

Y/N didn’t take it any further either. She simply lost herself in the feeling of Ben’s warmth, his lips, his touch. She felt her crush reciprocated, and it felt fucking amazing.

She settled back down, pressing play on the movie, leaning her body on Ben’s. She could feel Ben’s body shake — one quick look told her it was from happiness. Ben pressed one final kiss to the top of her head, mumbling, “Today’s a good day.”

And Y/N agreed. A good day was what it was.

forever tags: @lv7867 @multifangirl17 i’m also tagging @supersonicfreddie once again for good measure lol

my tag lists are open and so are my requests! feel free to shoot me a message, i’d love to make friends! :)

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allie-and-her-fandoms · 5 years ago

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In Your Arms

Author's Notes: Hello guys. After 2 years of not writing for them, I decided to write again for the one ship that owns my heart and soul, Renora from RWBY! I am actually pretty happy about how this one turned out, unlike those I wrote two years ago *shudders*. Anyway, huge shout outs to @ship-ambrosia, @sweetmemories2606, @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate, @thelegendofcloud and @scarlet-curls for inspiring me to write this fic, and major gratitude to @luccie-eclair for beta reading this fic. I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough for this. Also, happy late birthday to @jfangirld. Without further ado, enjoy (or endure).

Category: bed-sharing, hurt/comfort, F&F (fun and fluff)

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“We… we are in the right room, aren’t we Ren? This cannot be our room! This isn’t what we asked for!” Nora started stammering, a scarlet similar to the one painting the twilight outside, slowly painting her cheeks.

“Yes Nora, this is Room 46. It is written on the keylock and on the room’s door.” Ren replied stoically, seeming unfazed by the newborn situation they were faced with now.

“Ren, we need to go to that receptionist and tell her to give us another room. We clearly asked for a TWIN room, with TWO beds, not a double bed room!” Nora shrieked, pointing with her both index fingers at the double bed in the middle of the room, then rushed out of their room and was about to go downstairs, where the reception was. She wasn’t going to accept that! She wasn’t… she wasn’t ready. However, she felt a gentle, yet firm hold on her right forearm. She soon stopped walking and glared at her onyx-haired boyfriend.

“Nora, we would’ve paid the same for a twin room either way. It’s fine. Now please, don’t go and break that receptionist’s legs.” Ren teased Nora, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alright, fine,” Nora replied. “Ren?”

“Hm?” his magenta eyes found their way to her cerulean ones.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? I mean… with us, having to share a bed. It’s been quite a while since we last did this. How old were we, anyway? Eleven, maybe twelve? Anyway, it was until we started attending a combat school, wasn’t it? After that, no more bed-sharing, unless we had nightmares.” The ginger-haired girl babbled, gaining her ninja partner’s attention. Is she… nervous? This question echoed through Ren’s mind, as Nora kept babbling in honest, her heart pounding like crazy against her chest, her mouth resembling more to a desert, and red tainting her face.

“And then we got into Beacon, and the situation repeated. We were still together, but not together-together yet, and we had less nightmares, so yeah. After that, we didn’t need to share beds. Yeah…” Nora stopped, her mouth dry and her breaths more frequent.

“Nora?”

“Yes, Ren?” Nora’s eyes were lost into his, her gaze sending a wave of warmth that rushed into his veins, making his own heart doing somersaults into his chest, his knees turning into jelly.

“It’s nothing. Remember why we’re here. Salem may be gone, but the creatures of Grimm are not. This is our first mission as licensed Huntsmen, and I can’t have my partner worry about something as minor as bed-sharing. Like you said, we’ve done this before. We got this.” his soothing voice calmed Nora, as his hand found its way to her left cheek, then he caressed it with his thumb.

“Besides, now we’re also together-together, aren’t we?” he gave Nora that one soft smile he had reserved for her, and her alone. “And I know I am not a man of words, but… You are my everything, Nora. And I will not anyone harm you.” A look of determination got painted on his face, as he pressed his hand harder against Nora’s cheek. Have her cheeks always been this silky?

The thunder goddess’ face twisted from her dumbfounded expression into one that, in Ren’s eyes, was so soft, not even the most expensive Mistrali silks couldn’t compete. “Same here. Ren, you are my family, my light, my world. And I’d be damned if something happened to you! That’s why, as long as you’re willing to protect me, then I’m going to do the same thing.” Her hands found their way to his free hand and sandwich it, giving it a small grip.

In that moment, her eyes full of love met his, full of resolve. Ren could drown in those turquoise eyes and would have nothing to complain about, because the only thing Lie Ren would ever need in his life is his partner and love, Nora Valkyrie. As long as she was by his side, he was more than content. As long as he could hear her voice the first thing in the morning, feel her index finger brushing his nose, feel the warmth of her hugs, breathe in her vanilla and cherry scent, or simply see her smiling his way, Ren could consider himself a happy man; Nora was his salvation, after all.

The same goes for Nora. So long she could boop her partner’s nose, mingle her fingers with his ebony river of hair, feel his strong arms around her, and simply having her by his side, Nora was the happiest woman in Remnant.

“Now… shall we go into our room and get ready for bed? The sun has set already, apparently.” Ren asked his ginger girlfriend, after he took a glimpse at the opened window on the hallway, that was no more reflecting the sunlight, but the moonlight. He then freed Nora’s cheek from his touch (something she didn’t want to end) and guided her into their bedroom, his other hand still held between hers – not that he minded. “So… which one of us should go and change first?” he questioned, while pointing to the bathroom door with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Ren. You can go there; I’ll change here in the meantime. I promise I won’t peek.” Nora’s eyebrows wiggled while she shot a smirk at Ren, earning a small blush from him. He was so easy to fluster sometimes.

“I’ll have to lock the door then. And while I’m there, I’ll take a long, long shower.” He bantered, a smirk leaving his lips, as he opened up his bag, took his pajamas, and entered the bathroom, and Nora could hear the door locking shortly after.

Shortly after Ren left the bathroom, all dressed up in a black t-shirt and long basil trousers, Nora stormed in the bathroom, already dressed in her black BOOP t-shirt and her magenta shorts. She loved Ren, but sometimes, getting ready for bed would take him forever. It’s a good thing that I love him! she mumbled, as he got into bed.

---

After she finished all the business she needed to finish in the bathroom, Nora decided it was finally time to go to bed, to get her batteries charged. However, when she saw Ren sitting on the bed – no, their bed – she felt blood rushing into her cheeks. They were going to share a bed! She quickly tried to hide her now ruby cheeks with her palms, that were also in flames.

“Nora, are you done with the bathroom? I really need to use it now.” Ren asked, noticing the fact that the ginger woman’s whole face was now on fire. “Are you okay?” he rushed to her side, taking her hands off her cheeks and placing his own in a rushed manner. “Do you have a fever? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes, Ren. I’m good. You can use the bathroom now.”

When she finally got on the bed, Nora felt that it was small, almost constraining. How are we gonna fit in this minuscule bed?! she wondered, scandalized by the seemingly reduced size of the double bed, failing to notice Ren approaching, and sitting down next to her, until she felt their shoulders brushing. She got startled and looked over her left shoulder, only to meet Ren's worried gaze.

“Nora, are you… okay?”

“Sure, Ren. Why did you ask?” she put a reassuring smile on her face.

Ren’s worry still didn’t fade away. “Are you still… thinking about our… sleeping arrangements?”

Nora let out a frustrated sigh, and nodded. Ren also found himself nodding. He understood how she felt; in fact, he was just as scared as her. It was the first time they shared a bed not out of obligation, or because of the nightmares that would haunt their early lives. And now they were also together-together.

“Got it. Nora?”

“Yes, Ren?”

“Let’s try and get some sleep. We need to get up early tomorrow.”

“Okay, Ren.” Nora sighed in relief, grateful that Ren had changed the subject. She then turned her back to him, as she hummed “Good night”, but not before she kissed her boyfriend on his cheek; a gesture he happily reciprocated, bidding her goodnight and waiting for sleep to come and get them to Dream Land.

---

An acute scream made Ren jump off the bed he had forgotten he shared with his girlfriend. He then started shaking her shoulders gently, begging her to wake up. As her eyes snapped open, the first thing they met was the magenta of Ren’s own eyes. Shortly after, she jumped into his arms, as Ren understood that her nightmare must’ve been horrible, given her reaction before and after waking up. After holding her close in his arms, while caressing her short ginger hair and assuring her everything was okay.

“Nora, it’s okay. Everything is okay. I’m here, I’m right here.” he kept murmuring, as her hair flowed through his fingers.

“You… You died. You had managed to save me and then… then…” Nora’s sobs turned more violent, as the scene of Ren’s death at the hands of the Nuckelavee kept playing on repeat in her head, red staining her white shirts and her screams echoing among the ruins of Kuroyuri.

“Nora…” his voice lulled her in the night, and his arms held her so close to his chest, their hearts were against each other. “I’m right here. Remember what we promised that day? ‘We keep each other safe.’ Even from nightmares.” Ren caressed her hair, as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead, then placing his own forehead against hers, looking straight into her eyes, azure against magenta.

Nora held him even closer, his heart beating in unison with hers, as her sobs subsided and he dried her tears, sheltering her in the temple of his care. “Thank you” was all she could whisper, while her puffy eyes found his, full of love and care. He always had her back. And for that, she always thanked whatever being was out there, for giving her the best gift she could ever get.

After a few minutes of holding each other like they never wanted to let go, and whispered promises, sleep decided to pay them one more visit for the night. But right before Nora’s eyelids could finally stay shut, a gasp left her lips as she felt two strong arms around her waist, pulling her close to a hard chest. Her body became tense, her heart beating like crazy, and her eyes widened as Ren pulled her closer to him, as he peppered her left shoulder with butterfly kisses. Nora couldn’t help but smile at her boyfriend’s gesture. He had never been the affectionate type, but there was little to nothing he wouldn’t do for her. And that included romantic gestures, like spooning or kissing. And for the second time that night, she thanked life for gifting her with her boyfriend.

---

Not even an hour later after falling asleep, Nora woke up again due to a ray of sunshine finding its way to her eyes, something that wasn’t truly on her taste. As she spun around, her face met Ren’s chest, her lips at the same level as his heart. Feeling brave, she kissed his covered chest multiple times, without noticing that Ren’s heartbeat became even faster and his face redder, and as he shifted his arms around her a bit, so she could be even more glued to him, he also thanked life for giving him the woman worth spending the rest of his life with. Little did they know however, how that one night was just the beginning of a new life for them, where kisses and such small gestures would be just the beginning.

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Any kind of feedback is more than welcome. Once again, thank you for reading this!😊

#rwby #renora #lie ren #nora valkyrie #team sloth #flower power (rwby)#ultimate otp #my writing

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

Text

(Just Ride) Part 3

A/N: Hello there lovelies!

I just wanted you to know that this will be the last piece of this series for at least a few weeks, since I have had two ideas for two new fics (one of which is the sequel of “A Little Loss of Innocence”), but I low key also had an idea for an epilogue for this series, so… THIS IS NOT THE LAST YOU HEAR OF BABE PROFESSIONAL BIKER JIM!

Also this is my very first and complete smut, so please… don’t hate me, if you see anything that you actually don’t like please let me know and I shall try to take your advise and make my writing better!

So please don’t forget to tell mey your opinions on it, throught a comment, an ask or a message, I love y’all and I need validation, sorry guys… (but seriously help me and my writing so we can understand if I did something wrong!).

Let me know lovelies!

SUMMARY: Apparently time has come and Jimmy and Mechanic! Reader finds themselves in the most akward situation of all… their first time having sex (yeah I know I am bad with summaries…)

WORDS: 3,5 K

WARNINGS: Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Mommy Kink and Dom And Sub dynamics (I know that this is too soft to be BDSM, or anything related, also because Jimmy Boy makes fun of it in my fic, but I just wanted a nice and sweet first time between those two, as Reader said “there will be time for harder punishments”).

On the third date, thing started to get heated between her and Jimmy, which honestly surprised her.

The biker wasn’t one to wait, both on the circuit and with women, but strangely with her he cherished the sweetest and calmest of gestures, such as a forehead kiss meanwhile they worked on his bike.

He had gotten pretty good at it, enough that she rewarded him multiple times with kisses all over his face, meanwhile he giggled that they needed to be careful.

They needed to keep their relationship a secret, both for the fact that it wouldn’t have looked good on their stable, since she was supposed to work on two bikes, the other own belonging to the other biker of their race team, but she was basically Jimmy’s mechanic, since her and Russel had divided long ago the bikers they would be working on, she still had responsibilities towards the other biker.

(Although he wasn’t as sweet as Jimmy).

And it would have looked extremely unprofessional for her to share a relationship with the person, who drove the bike she fixed, not only because people could argue it wasn’t proper for her to work on his bike, but they could also argue she wasn’t in the right state of mind.

She indeed still felt her heart beat faster whenever a particular dangerous move brought Jimmy closer to the road, but she tried to keep it in behind her sunglasses, just to hug attack Jimmy in his trailer, making him swear not to try anything too dangerous just to impress people in the audience.

“You don’t get it?!” he had mumbled, meanwhile she cuddled to his chest in his bed in the trailer “I only have one person to impress, and that is you”.

“You are such an actor, Mason” she had mumbled, to hide the way that confession had taken, rubbing her in just the right way, ready to either cry or punch him or kiss him passionately, till the neighboring trailers wondered what those screams were for “… you have to impress me, not murder me with an heart attack, understood?”.

He had just kissed her lazily, as an answer, before cuddling with her for the rest of the free hour after the race and before the press conference.

And now they were at their third date, she had had to be the one to ask him to come inside, since Jimmy had actually just tried his best to invite himself implicitly but without saying it out loud, a generous blush on his cheeks and his eyes not meeting hers.

The same position he had assumed when she had told him to get settled on the sofa, meanwhile she poured him something in the kitchen, coming back to Jimmy, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, meanwhile he had his jacket on his pants, covering something she had felt during the make-out session outside her house, when her neighbor had caught them and coughed pointedly.

“Do you think she has recognized us?” had asked Jim, when she had turned around, searching for her keys in her bag “Should we…?”.

“She is convinced I work at the convenience store a few meters from here, and if she doesn’t think I am that, she gets me confused with Tina, the girl on the floor under mine… so you shouldn’t be worried, and even if you were… she is an old lady with a terrible sight”.

This had calmed him down, but he still seemed at unease so she kept her distance when she settled on the sofa, moving the glass of water towards him; she had asked if he had wanted something stronger, but he had just said he needed water to clear his throat.

Somebody could argue that three dates were a little too little for that, but she honestly had never been the conventional girl, alongside the fact that they had only three dates because of the respective troubling timetables.

But in reality, they had spent each moment on the circuit together, when she wasn’t fixing his bike and he wasn’t on the mentioned bike, so they knew so much about themselves and they were pretty confident on the fact that they liked each other.

-Is everything alright, Jimmy? – she mumbled, putting a hand on his shoulder to caress it, calmly and Jim immediately melted under her touch, immediately shifting closer.

-I am just nervous-.

-I promise that if it will make you feel better, I will talk with the old lady…- she promised, but before she could reply anything, Jim had shifted away.

-…it is not about the lady! – he rambled and avoided eye-contact, which got her to be the one to come closer, although she kept her hands to herself (pretty difficult) -… I am just nervous to be with you-.

-You do realize the only different thing from our usual time together is that we don’t have a bike between us…? – she tried to calm him down, totally understanding his nervousness but wanting to make him feel better.

-… it’s just… it’s your house and… - he raised his head to meet her eyes and smiled at her -… I am overthinking everything, right? -.

-No, it’s totally ok to be nervous, and just so you know… we are not going to anything you don’t want to do- and she kissed his forehead, meanwhile he hugged her with an arm, bringing her closer.

-I got very lucky, didn’t I? – he whispered, meanwhile she chuckled and nodded.

-Indeed, Mason, you got very lucky! – this prompted a joking-offended expression from Jim, who kissed her swiftly, a teasing way to get back at her words.

-You know you should have gone with “I got lucky too”.

-No, I shouldn’t, you are a nuisance Jim Mason- she giggled, diving for another little kiss, clearly feeling the nervousness and unease fade away, slowly -… but you are my very cute nuisance-.

-I am not cute- he protested, but she booped his nose to make him aware of the cuteness.

-Yes, you are, my very very cute boy- and she moved to his lap, straddling him, meanwhile she laid a few kisses on his face, getting him to brighten under her ministrations -… my pretty boy-.

-…my very hot mechanic- he shot back, before giggling under her, recaching up to kiss her and he dragged the entire thing out, pushing his tongue in her mouth, ranking it against her teeth, meanwhile she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck.

They were so into it that she started to rock her hips against his hard-on, getting a loud moan from him, whispered right in her mouth, the vibrations caressing her lips, gently.

When they separated from each other, it was her time to be nervous and she stopped Jim, from removing the first item of clothes.

-I have something I need to tell you before we move further- and she stood back, meanwhile he reached out for her arms, keeping her steady and giving her his undivided attention -… I know this might sound strange and you are very free to even tell me that you are uncomfortable, it won’t change nothing going on between us…-

She was straight up babbling and he reached up to kiss her, as she had done a few weeks before, catching her by surprise, before kissing her nose gently.

-No need to be nervous, I trust you with all my heart- he told her to go on with a gentle look.

-I am a very dominant person, not only in the stables but also … in bed- she had discovered this as soon as she had gone out with a boy, finding herself attracted to the possibility to see him crumble behind her, but everybody had just looked at her crazy, so she didn’t expect Jim to throb, practically, under her at the mention of that -… and I would like to…-.

-Wait… are you rehearsing Mr Grey’s discourse to Anastasia from “Fifty Shades of Bullshit”…- she straight up slapped his shoulder hard enough he actually let out a very pained mumble -… THAT HURT! -.

-It was meant to hurt, idiot- she mumbled, but still she moved down his ear and then to his shoulder to kiss the small hurt -… I was trying to be serious-.

-I know, babe- he mumbled, kissing her forehead -… but I had to-.

-That is what I am going to tell you later, when I don’t make you cum- she replied, at his ear level, getting the little moan he let out right into her ear at the mention of what was to come and that gave her the strength to go on, feeling under her how much Jimmy was enjoying the entire thing, grabbing his face between her hands, framing his face -… but I might just let you cum because you are so pretty-.

This got him to hold out a breath.

-… or maybe it will be even a prettier sight to see you roll around asking for mercy, I can’t decide…- she pulled away to tap her chin with a finger, contemplating the proper punishment for the small infraction, holding him tight under her hot core, feeling every inch of him.

She knew it was already a form of torture because he was so close to being in her and still so far away from the warmth.

-Please mommy don’t be too mean- the “mommy” took her extremely by surprise.

The “mommy” joke was an inside thing between her and Jim, and nobody else (she remembered perfectly when a fellow mechanic had tried to use the nickname and Jimmy almost snapped his head off) but she had never believed it would be much more, hiding something… like that… but at least, for her, it was a nice surprise.

-Ehm… maybe I shall go easy on your because it is your first time…- she thought about it, seeing something shine in Jim’s eyes hope, and as soon as she saw it, she retreated from his lap, getting up and away from him, getting him to try to catch her, meanwhile he silently protested with his eyes -… but you are also a tough boy who destroys my bikes each chance he gets, so I shall treat you as one-.

And she turned around, moving to her bedroom.

She might not let him out nicely after what he had just done, but she didn’t want their first time to be only a quick fuck on her sofa, and she turned around to check if he was following her, but he was on the couch still, waiting for her to order him around.

Which she did gladly did.

-Want to stay on the couch and get yourself off, or are you coming with mommy to her room?- this immediately got a rise out of him, who jumped up faster, following her and even entering the room before her as if he was again on the circuit, racing past her with confidence and setting down on her bed, comfortably, which got her to roll her eyes at his childish behavior, although she smiled sweetly, amused by the entire thing.

She joined him pretty quickly, her hand moving to his elegantly crisp shirt, or better to its buttons, opening it for her hand to move just through his skin, which she caressed elegantly, looking at him in the eyes, meanwhile checking his reactions not knowing if what she was doing was right or wrong.

And from the full-blown pupils he got just from her frail touches, he liked it.

When she got him out of the shirt, quickly discarded off the bed, she pushed him down, getting a boyish laugh from him, meanwhile she straddled him, a hand going to his chest to keep him down, before bringing her lips centimeters away from his.

Jim wanted to get up but she quickly held him down:

-Baby boy, don’t move so quickly and without my approval, and maybe I will be nice- and she moved to kiss his neck, pushing marks into his skin, mindful of where his race-suit covered, and where it didn’t, leaving a few marks just to make sure that the umbrella-girls would know he was taken, whenever they puffed his chest out at him.

And then she made her way to the pleasurable treasure trail of little blonde hair, till it brought her where Jimmy wanted her the most, standing at full attention for her and for her welcoming hand, which wrapped tightly around him, using the slick on the head of it, around the hot skin there, before her mouth tasted him, making Jimmy arch on the bed, which prompted a smirk from her.

She laid her head down on his tummy, feeling the muscle under it clench instinctively, looking down at him, who just stared at her between his lashes, annoyed with this treatment, but also attentive at her next gesture.

-You look so cute, Jimmy Boy and taste so good- she mumbled, licking her lips slowly, meanwhile Jimmy just rolled back his eyes, arching again, although she hadn’t touched him-…what do you say? -.

-Thank you…- he mumbled, although he still smirked, a bit too brattily for her, who gave his thigh a pinch -… mommy-.

-Oh, that’s better! – she smiled, jumping up, and moving around, turning her back -… still you are a bit too cocky, so maybe I should leave you like this-.

This got Jim to drop the smirking and he immediately crawled where she was standing, his hands didn’t dare touch her, but he moved closer.

-Please, pretty please don’t leave me like this, mommy- and then he hugged her, placing a kiss on her neck, sweetly and tryingly -…I need you so bad-.

-Just because you have a very big problem between your legs – she mumbled, turning around to meet his blue eyes, big mistake since he actually looked so needy and sweet and she just wanted to kiss him, throwing away all the plans she had made to make him pay for any bike he had ruined…

-… at least you are admitting it’s big- he mumbled, getting a grin from her.

-Keep on talking like this, and I will leave you high and dry-.

-Please don’t, it would be horrible to walk out of this with my tail between my legs, pretty literally-.

After that she threw him down, pushing him against the bed and this time she allowed a kiss, just to stop him from talking, eating up his giggle at her sudden move, and this time when she went down, she stayed there, till the very edge.

She left him unsatisfied when she got up, hair messy because of Jim’s wandering hands (she hadn’t had the heart to tell him not to, there would be more time when it would be far harder) and her cheeks emptying and filling with air, whereas they had held Jim’s manhood, and lips slick with split and precum.

Although he was unsatisfied he didn’t protest, for which he got rewarded with a slick kiss, right on his lips, her tongue swiftly entering his mouth, to let him taste himself, before smearing slick on his lips, in a very messy kiss, almost as much as her hair had become, but he breathed happily into her, thrusting up instinctively into the kiss, making his manhood sweep over her clothed core, the jeans creating a pleasurable friction that he moaned through the touch, till she held his hips down.

-Baby, if you want for this to happen, you better behave- and he nodded quickly, and she separated getting a pained moan from him, but she calmed him down with a caress his cheeks, before getting his hand to join hers, meanwhile she unbuttoned her blouse, leading it in circles, meeting her skin, tasting the supple one of her breasts, and then moving down to her elegant pants, unbuttoning them, to reveal black underwear matching the bralette she was wearing.

And finally meeting his eyes, she dared to see what he thought of her, naked in front of him and in them there was an intensity she had never found in anybody else, as if not only he liked what he saw but he gave himself up to her entirely.

She discarded the pants in an angle of the bed, too hot and bothered to care, because if Jim was a mess on edge, she felt so emotional that when she let him enter her as soon as she was on top of him, her hands on his chest, after she had slipped a condom on him, she let out a few tears, not believing she had found someone who loved her so completely and desperately.

And when she started rocking her hips, holding Jim tight under her, but with care not to bruise the skin, immediately their rhythm immediately mixed, with her slow one and his desperate one, fighting her grip till she started to match it, and she spit out a “brat” at the smile she got from allowing his demand (absolutely not because she wanted to speed up, the thing, nooo…).

The need and the tension, immediately building up and she felt herself closer, enough that she almost closed her eyes to ease the feeling, meanwhile Jimmy tried to grasp her, getting himself up, and the movement got her to crack open an eye to reprimand him from trying anything…

But he just got up and kissed a nipple, before, taking it into his mouth, more gently than she had expected and kept this up, meeting her gaze.

And she was gone.

Just a swift touch of her clit, friction and excitement ran through her body and she was gone, gripping at his shoulder with enough force she knew there would be moon-shaped signs on it soon, but most of all, she brought him with her.

He bit straight down on her nipple, hard enough she would have a mark, meanwhile he spilled into the condom, but she felt every throb and twitch.

She didn’t mind it.

And then they held each other for what seemed eternity till the tiredness dropped on both of them and she fell down on him, getting a giggle from him.

She tried to make him exit her, more for his comfort than hers, but he just protested, holding her tightly, meanwhile she calmed him down with a few caresses to his back, meeting his eyes, smiling as brightly as she had never done, getting another tired but happy smile, before he nuzzled her nose, caressing it gently, before plopping down it a kiss, and then another and then another again…

They stayed in that embraced position till it got uncomfortable and then Jimmy allowed her to leave.

She rose up, feeling her release on her thighs, meanwhile she threw the condom in the nearest bin, getting a pained noise from an oversensitive Jim.

She calmed him down telling him what a good boy he was, and he had been, getting up only when she felt him react better, and moving to the bathroom, still feeling his protests but shushing them with the promise that it would take just a minute.

She retrieved a rag, knowing they had to clean up, but also realizing they were both too tired for a shower, so she simply rubbed the towel on him, attentive of his oversensitive skin and Jim thanked her for the coldness of it, which brought him relief.

He then tried to do the same for her, for which she thanked him, kissing his nose, but he was also too tired to do anything, and she just said:

“don’t worry, baby boy, this is a mommy thing, just enjoy it”.

They then moved the party under the covers, where she had moved both of them, hugging him gently, but loosely enough not to make him feel constricted, but he was the one who tightened the grip, facing her, and moving to the crook of her neck, nestling there.

-You are so much better than Mr Grey- he mumbled, making her laugh, in the blackness of the room.

-You have such a way with words, Jimmy Boy- she replied, cuddling him closer, and again drawing circles on his back.

-… what I was trying to say is that, it was beautiful and I wanted to thank you for that- he phrased it better.

-You never have to say “thank you” for that, Jimmy Boy, but it is nice to know that you have some manners- she sweetly linked their hands under the covers.

-…I only reserve the best for you, mommy-.

-And mommy loves her pretty boy- she replied, knowing perfectly she had just said the “l-word” but maybe Jim was already gone to sleep, since he had closed his eyes, tired.

-Love you too, my very hot mechanic-.

She smirked meanwhile she closed her eyes too…

Apparently this had got much better than just a ride.

Hey guys,

(I had to upload it again because I wasn’t happy with it, so sorry).

As always feedback is welcome, leave an heart a comment, reblog it and you will for ever have my heart!

@sojournmichael @littledemondani @blakewaterxx @desertsunflower00 @uinen-ulmiel (if you want to be tagged in my next fic let me know!).

Love you, lovelies!

31 notes · View notes

victorianoir · 5 years ago

Text

The Detective and the ManFatale, Part 1

Sorry I haven’t been keeping up here. But I’ll be adding the rest of what I’ve written since the last chapter I posted on tumblr. And I’ll add it to the MASTERPOST of The Detective and the Tech Guy here, as well. If you want to read this chapter on the fanfiction.net site, you can read it here: BOOP.

Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She found herself nodding off at her desk yet again, thanks to the long night she'd had.

Reaching up, she gave herself a few light smacks to the cheek and blinked, stretching her arms above her head. A satisfied smile made itself known on her face. The extra tiredness was more than worth it. Not sleeping more than the two hours she'd gotten earlier this morning? Worth it.

Part of her had been reluctant to say yes to Chuck when he proposed they "adventure" last night. Well, honestly, she'd misunderstood at first when he'd said they should "adventure", because she'd taken it in an "exploration" sort of way. It wasn't her fault, really, since they'd been wrapped up together on his couch watching TV at the time. Or not watching TV, because they were actually making out heavily with the TV on in the background. So it only made sense that she'd taken "We should adventure" as "Let's move from second base to third base".

Then she had realized he'd meant outside; actually going somewhere in the middle of the night and adventuring in the city.

She'd been more reluctant about that. Obviously. What woman wouldn't be when she had a Chuck Bartowski to enjoy being pinned under instead?

She snorted to herself and pushed her hands through her hair.

God, she was tired. Even if driving over bridges, climbing to the tops of hills, looking up at the stars from their spot on the sandy beach after walking along its shores, was all worth it.

Why did she even come to the agency today? She was her own boss. She could've taken today off, kissed Chuck goodbye as he left for work, and stayed all wrapped up in his bed for the rest of the day, sleeping the tiring (but invigorating) night she'd had off.

But that wasn't how she wanted to operate with Walker Investigative Enterprises. She was a damn professional. And she'd be here, yawning and all. Because she was honestly between cases and really needed to up the marketing to get someone with a case in here. Granted, most of the work she needed to do was ugly, horrible paperwork. Filing things for taxes, making sure the IRS didn't come busting her door down.

She yawned again and groaned, thumping her forehead against the top of her desk, taking a deep breath, and letting her eyes shut.

It was worth eventually walking up that hill to watch the sunrise with Chuck's arms around her.

Totally worth it.

And God, why hadn't she stayed in bed? Professionalism really was a lousy trait for someone to have.

Suddenly, she heard the soft sound of the hinges on the outer door to her agency creak, and she lifted her head, sitting up straight.

"Uh…ahem…anyone here? Is there a, um, a bell?"

She rushed out from behind her desk, opened her office door a bit more and stepped out. "Yes. Good afternoon. May I help you?"

The man lifted both eyebrows as he peered at her, and she couldn't help but notice the almost charming slow smile that presented itself on his handsome face. "It's a great afternoon suddenly, from where I'm standing."

She gave him an exceedingly polite smile. If this was a client, she couldn't afford to be rude. Literally, she couldn't afford it.

He cleared his throat, shaking himself a bit, seeming almost self-deprecating. And then he smirked a bit, as though…Well, he seemed pretty aware of himself. There was a thread of amusement at his own expense, which she didn't expect. "Right. Uh, I'm here to see the, um, private investigator. Detective Walker? Mister Walker? Not sure which…"

"I'm Sarah Walker, private investigator."

"It's you?" he asked. He pushed a hand through his wavy jet black hair, and grinned. "Wow, that's your name on the door, huh?"

"Yes. It is."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. I'll stop being such a prick and get to the reason why I'm here."

She wished he would. She was too tired for him to be standing here doing the same thing a lot of people had done when they first saw her. The gawking, either at her being a woman, or perhaps at the fact that she was as good-looking as she was, or both. The asking of that age-old question: "Really? You're Walker?"

Yes, asshole. Really.

She didn't care if this guy was handsome in an old school Alain Delon sort of way, or that he had a nice lilting accent that sounded like it might be British…but not at the same time. She thought he was probably South African, but the accent felt…different. A little off, maybe.

It was still freaking annoying that he fell into the same trap everyone else had.

"Uh, so…" He cleared his throat and shut the door behind him finally, straightening the tan suit he wore. "Well, I think I need your help."

"You think?"

"Well, I guess I know I need someone's help." He shook his head. "And I need someone good, someone who can be very discreet."

"I'm both of those things," she said, smirking a little.

A bit of a flirtatious look came over his features and he crossed his arms at his chest. "And confident, too. I like that."

"Why do you need a private investigator, Mister…?"

"Cartwright. Robert Cartwright. You can call me Robbie."

"What can I help you with, Mister Cartwright?"

"Not Robbie, then?" He chuckled and nodded. "Sorry. You're a professional. I should treat you as such. Inspector Walker? Detective?"

"Miss is just fine."

"That is good news."

The meaning wasn't lost on her, and she pretended it was, seemingly continuing to stare at him, waiting for him to actually get to business like he said he would ages ago. She was too tired to play games but she wanted a case to work on.

He cleared his throat again. "Right, well…It seems I'm in a bit of trouble, Miss Walker."

"All right. Come into my office and we'll talk about it."

"You mean you'll take my case?" he asked hopefully.

She sent him a bit of an amused look. "Did I say that?" she asked over her shoulder, eyeing him, and she led him into her office, gesturing for him to take a seat across the desk from her, taking her own seat after. "Can I get you water? Coffee?"

"Do you have any whiskey?"

"No."

"Well, good. I'm a champagne man, myself."

Sarah smirked. His sense of humor was catching her off-guard in a similar way to the way Chuck's had, especially when she'd first met him a few years ago, sitting across from him in his father's office, not expecting him to be so handsome or charming, to the point where she'd found herself flirting with him without realizing it.

She wouldn't be flirting with Robbie Cartwright at all, and certainly not in the way she'd flirted with the tech nerd.

She was more than simply taken. When it came to Chuck, she was fully off the market, even for something as innocent as flirtation. Even if it was almost…intriguing…how similar parts of this man were to Chuck, while also being incredibly different. Maybe it was the place he was coming from, the way Chuck felt very sincere in everything he did while this man just made her feel a bit…not guarded, per se, just…on her toes.

It was very strange. She wanted to work it out more than she wanted to hear about his case, she found.

"I don't have champagne."

"No, I expect you wouldn't. Not here, anyway. Perhaps when you fix this issue of mine, we can find somewhere that does have champagne and celebrate?"

"Please, let's not get ahead of ourselves here, Mister Cartwright. I haven't taken your case. I still don't even know what it is yet." She went into her drawer, pulled out her small notepad, a pen, and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and propping the pad on her knee as she waited patiently.

"Yes. Sorry. I shouldn't just assume you are single…" He pulled his chin back a bit and looked at her through his eyelashes, as if hinting he wanted to know if she was single. She didn't owe him any information about her personal life or romantic life. And anyway, whether she was attached to someone or not, he owed her more respect than to be broaching the subject of champagne or celebration when he'd literally just walked in to ask her to help him with an 'issue'.

"Mister Cartwright, your problem you need help with…?" she finally prompted, as if she didn't even notice the way he paused significantly.

He seemed to pick up on what she was doing and seemed to appreciate it as he smirked and nodded. "I apologize. You're…very distracting." She had no response to that. "Right. Yes. Well… There is this…acquaintance, shall we say, of mine. Normally, I try to mind my own business, especially when I don't know a person, right? But there's just something about him that seems…not right."

"How so?" Sarah asked, twirling her pen in her fingers.

"Jerald Brown. Have you heard of him?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"He's an alleged philanthropist. Think he has a tech company or something. But I keep hearing things about business dealings that just don't add up. And with the connection he has to philanthropy, the amount of people who depend on him being on the up and up, it's genuinely concerning."

Sarah frowned, giving him a dubious look. "What does that have to do with you, Mister Cartwright?"

"Maybe I'm just a good guy."

He chuckled when she gave him a flat look. She wouldn't stand for a potential client treating her like she was stupid.

"I'm sorry, you're right," he said, smiling, his light blue eyes sparkling. "I'm an okay guy. It's mostly that I'm thinking about maybe doing some business with him. I want to make sure he's not involved in any illegal business dealings. I don't want to be hoodwinked or have my named tied up with his if he's…disreputable. I want to know he's a good family man."

"Are you a 'good family man', Mister Cartwright?" she asked, without a hint of flirtation.

He apparently took it that way, though, as he grinned and leaned forward. "I am not, Miss Walker. Any particular reason why you ask?"

"Yes," she said, smiling a little. "Because I wonder why you require a potential business partner to be a good family man if you don't require that of yourself."

"Oh." He sat back again. "Perhaps—and I'll admit this to you, Miss Walker, because I'm not claiming to be an angel by any means," he said, with a mischievous look she might've been more attracted to at some other point in her life, namely the past, "I might be something of a hypocrite. Perhaps I expect more of my colleagues than I do of myself." He shrugged. "Isn't that human? Don't we all?"

She sniffed in amusement. "Touché."

He grinned again at her assenting his point.

"So, will you take my case, Miss Walker?"

Sarah eyed him for a long time, flipping her notepad shut, open, shut, open… There was something about him that intrigued her. And it wasn't exactly a good intrigue she got from this first impression, like she'd gotten from her very first encounter with Chuck; it wasn't a need to know more about him, to know him better because he seemed like it would make her feel good to know him. No, this was different. She wanted to get to the bottom of where this guy was coming from because he wasn't like other people she'd met. Something set her on edge and she wanted to know why.

It wasn't just the clicking lilt of his accent or the way he seemed to emphasize certain words in his speech, every syllable coming out measured and precise as if he was parsing words. The more he sat across from her and spoke to her, the more his charm was less genuine and more a blanket to cover something else, or it was a distraction perhaps.

But she wanted to keep this guy around, she decided, keep him in her sights. She found she didn't care much about Jerald Brown. Robert Cartwright had her full attention.

So she nodded. "All right, Mister Cartwright. I'll look into Jerald Brown for you. It might take some time. I need to tail him, get some information, meet with contacts." She climbed up from her chair and set her notepad and pen on her desk.

"Take all the time you need, Miss Walker." He clapped once and stood as well, smiling in relief. "As long as it's discreet. I don't want a potential future business associate to know I've sicked a wicked P.I. on him."

"Wicked?" she asked, smirking.

"Mhm. Oh, don't worry. It's a compliment."

She gave him a look, then pulled her calendar out, scanning it. "Do you have time to meet again on Friday? I'll draw up a payment plan, we can go over that, and we'll solidify what you need from me."

The look on his face told her he was just barely resisting the urge to tell her exactly what he needed. And she was glad he was holding back. She didn't want to have to draw lines with a client. It was demeaning.

"Here?" he asked.

"Yes. Please. Noon work for you?"

"Friday at noon." He straightened his suit again. "Shall I bring the champagne?"

"I don't drink when I'm working, Mister Cartwright."

He held his hands up. "Of course. But may I try again to ask you to call me Robbie? I might be a bit too entrenched in my South African ways…"

She wasn't sure that was a South African thing. It sounded more like a Guy Who Was Attracted To A Woman sort of thing. But she didn't care enough to dispute him. "If that makes you more comfortable, then I will."

"It does."

She nodded, neglecting to tell him he could call her Sarah. Because, honestly, he couldn't. "All right. See you on Friday, then, Robbie."

His wide smile was charming again as he flashed her a double thumbs up. "Sounds great. Thank you for considering my case, Miss Walker."

She nodded, watching as he left. And it wasn't until the main door out into the hallway shut behind him that she let out a long sigh and sagged against the desk her assistant would sit at. If she had one.

This was going to be interesting.

Very interesting.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Chuck was in the middle of blowing a robot's head off when he heard the door to his condo open. "Hey, hot stuff," he called over his shoulder, not looking as he finished off another robot.

A few seconds later, as he beat the level, pumping his fist in front of him with a "yessssss", he felt her cool hand slide over the back of his neck.

"You knew I wasn't Morgan, right?" she asked. "I feel like I just need to make sure."

He cracked up and saved, turning it off altogether. "He doesn't have a key to my place. You're the only one who does."

"Good point," she giggled, leaning down and kissing the top of his head. He noticed she had her briefcase draped over her shoulder but she wasn't in her work clothes, in stretchy pants and a V-neck shirt instead. "You don't have to turn off your game."

"Nah, that was a good stopping point."

"I'm going to be doing work anyway." She lifted her briefcase and huffed, plopping down onto the couch next to him and swinging the strap off over her head, dropping it to the floor next to her feet, kicking off her sneakers and tucking her legs under her body.

He lifted his arm and let her lean into his side, draping that same arm over her shoulders and pulling her close. "Paperwork?"

"A case."

"Oh. Oh!" He squeezed her shoulder. "Hey! A case! That's awesome! Tell me everything. The whole thing. I want to know every detail."

She giggled. "Chuck, I can't give you every detail of every client's case."

"Fiiine." He gave her a put-upon sigh and got his hair ruffled for it, giggling and trying to push her hand out of his curls. He managed to wrestle her down into his lap, her head resting on his thighs and she beamed up at him, blowing some of her blond locks out of her face and threading her fingers with his, resting them on her abdomen. "You can tell me, like, highlights if you want."

She giggled. "You win. But only because it's really adorable how excited you are about my work."

"That's mostly just because it's you. I hope you know that."

Sarah's blue eyes softened and she reached up to pinch his chin. "I love you a lot." He just grinned down at her, resting his hand on her head and stroking her hair back from her face. "So, yeah. This, uh, rich guy from South Africa wants me to look into someone he's thinking of doing business with. That's all."

"Ah, doing some vetting, huh?"

"Mhm."

"Some discreet vetting. That's the best kind."

She chuckled. "I guess so. It's not as easy."

"But you got it. You're incredible at being discreet." He shrugged. "You're incredible at everything."

Sarah beamed up at him. "You're being so cute and schmaltzy tonight. What's up with that?"

"I dunno," he said with a chuckle. "I missed you. Haven't seen you in, like, two and a half days. Do you get to tail this guy?"

She made a face, probably at his quick change of subject. But she still answered. She was too used to him doing that to her, he thought. "Yeah, I do. I have to, I don't get to. Tailing people isn't fun in any way, shape, or form, Chuck."

"No, I'm sure it's no piece of cake or anything. But it is kinda cool."

"You just think that because you watch too many movies that make it look cool. It's completely boring and exhausting."

He huffed. "I'll take your word for it. Since you're a professional. So is this South African guy just wanting to make sure he won't get himself into trouble being connected to this other guy?"

"Yes. Cartwright seems…I dunno…" She paused, biting her lip. "There's something I can't quite put my finger on. He's charming, doesn't seem like a terrible person or anything. I've spent the last few days just doing a quick check on him, building a little dossier of sorts. Mostly keeps to himself, stays out of the limelight… couldn't really find any pictures of him as a result. At least nothing prior to a few months ago."

Chuck had already pulled his phone out and brought up Google. "What's his full name?"

"Robert Cartwright," she said, giggling as he typed it in. "You really think I didn't Google image search him? There are literally no pictures of the guy. Anywhere. Just a recent picture on some low-tier celebrity blogger's page."

"That's impressive." He scrolled through. There really was nothing. "Oh. What about this guy?"

"Mm. No. That's not him. That's for some crab shack restaurant or something in Maine. A different Robert Cartwright."

"How did he manage this? I want to talk to him and ask him. Because I would love this to happen when people Google search for Charles Bartowski. Instead of that stupid fuckin' picture of me from that celebrity video game tournament when I'm practically biting my tongue off in concentration. Four years later and I still don't know how to purge the Internet of that damn picture. Headphones smashing my hair in all these weird directions."

"I love that picture. I'm gonna print it out and frame it…keep it on my desk at the agency to remind me of how lucky I am."

"Stop it."

She giggled with her tongue between her teeth. "And I'll tape a hundred dollar bill to it to remind me of how rich you are, which is why I'm really lucky."

Chuck's jaw fell open as he cracked up, trying to grab her as she bolted upright out of his lap and dove out of his reach.

They eventually settled into their routine of sorts, Chuck strewn long ways across the couch, his head in her lap, his laptop propped on his abdomen, Sarah holding the file she was building on the Jerald Brown "mark" she'd eventually told him about as they talked about the case here and there.

It had surprised him. He'd heard about Jerald Brown even if he hadn't ever done business with him, or even crossed paths with him. But the man seemed like he was genuine, not a criminal, even above reproach, if the things Chuck heard about him in the past were any indication. He told Sarah that, in not so many words, and she'd seemed to mull it over for a while.

"Okay, here's what I don't get…" she said finally. "Are you busy? May I confer with your stellar brain?"

Chuck snorted. "You may. Though my stellar brain might need a martini to really feel stellar. I held off on a martini earlier because I think I just had a sixth sense you'd be coming over tonight and I should wait."

"Awww, are we at that point in this relationship when our minds are melding?"

"Oh, definitely," he hummed. "I'm gonna mind meld with you right now. You're going to ask me why Cartwright isn't as handsome or as cool as I am, even if he is from South Africa and has a tight accent."

She laughed, her head falling back. "How did you do that?" she asked, booping him on the nose. He chuckled. "He does have a tight accent, though. But I was going to say I don't get why Cartwright is so paranoid about Jerald Brown."

Chuck shrugged, shutting his laptop with a yawn and reaching over to set it on the coffee table. "You said he keeps to himself, stays out of the limelight. Maybe he's just like that. Paranoid. Thinking everyone's out to get him, steal from him. Even guys on the up and up like Brown."

"But does he hire a P.I. for every single business transaction, every partnership? My fees aren't exactly cheap, and I'm on the lower end of the private detective LA circuit. Why is he so paranoid about Brown in particular?"

"Maybe he knows something about Brown he isn't telling you. Like, he's testing you to see if you can figure it out for yourself."

She gave him a look. "Chuck, what would be the point of that?"

"I…" He thought for a few seconds. "Don't know. Sorry. I'm just lobbin' ideas atcha. Seeing if anything sticks. I don't know of anything Brown might be hiding."

"You might be right and he's just paranoid. I bet you are right, actually. He just doesn't seem like that type of guy. He seemed…outgoing. Kind of mischievous and teasing. He didn't really fit the paranoid build."

Chuck froze a little. Something about the way she'd been talking about this guy made him sound like he was on the younger side, but also that he might be…compelling, charming. That interested him. And set off a few quiet but definitely still there alarm bells. But there was also something about the way her eyes became so sharp, her lips pursed, like she was deep in thought, working something out… He knew her enough to know there was more to this guy than met the eye.

"Just how much about this guy's build did you notice, Sarah Walker, P.I.?" he asked, widening his eyes and sitting up, shifting close to her and facing her full on.

"Shut up," she giggled. "You know exactly what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. He's probably, like, some ManFatale…flipping his hair and giving you a dark, dangerous look as he tells you he's in trouble." She began laughing and shaking her head as he affected an old-timey accent. "I'm in big trouble, Sarah Walker, P.I., and I need help. I need ya help, see?" He smoldered to finish it off.

"Why do I even like you?"

"Martinis and money."

Sarah cackled and slid her fingers into his hair at the back of his head, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "Mmmm, both of those things help." He loved the cheeky way she smiled at him, biting her lip. "But speaking of martinis…"

"On their way." He pecked her lips and got up from the couch, yelping as she gave his backside a swat while he moved past where she sat. "You know, sometimes you do that and I feel like a piece of meat," he teased, going to the bar and grabbing everything he needed.

"Wait, do you really?" she asked, and he looked over his shoulder to see that the look on her face was one of sincere concern.

"No," he said with a snort. "You just got through talking about my stellar brain, after all."

"It is pretty stellar."

"Thank you. And so is yours. You're like if Poirot was an incredibly sexy woman in her twenties instead of an old Belgian man with a crazy cool mustache."

She giggled. "Would you still love me if I had a crazy cool mustache?"

"What?" He finished the martinis in record time and went into his kitchen to grab a few olives for himself. "I think I would love you extra, if I'm bein' honest."

That earned him a strange look as he came back in with their drinks, one in each hand.

"No, seriously. Maybe while you're tailing Jerald Brown you can wear one for me, huh?" He made a play growl sound as he carefully sat next to her and handed her a martini.

"You're so weird and I love you so fucking much." She sipped her martini and moaned. "So much. How is it this good every time?"

"Baby, I'm a masterpiece. Obviously." He chuckled as she let out a bubbly giggle, tugging on one of his curls.

"You kind of are, though."

"Mm nope. I have my faults."

"Sure. So do I. And yet…you masterpiece." She shut the folder on her lap and set it to the side, on top of his laptop.

"Oh. Folder's away. Uh oh. What are you up to—? OH."

Sarah had swung her leg over to straddle him, martini still in hand, interrupting him with a slow, and sizzling if he did say so himself, kiss. When she pulled back, she took another calm sip of the drink.

"I have an idea."

"Please God tell it to me," he breathed out in a rush.

That made her snort, and yet it didn't break the heated mood even a bit. "What day is tomorrow?"

"That's a question, not an idea—Sorry. Uh, Thursday."

"Thursday. Well, I don't have anything pressing at the agency. Do you have anything pressing at B.E.C.?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"I'll cancel everything."

She beamed. "You don't have—"

"Listen, if you weren't currently sitting on my phone, I would've already texted Adisa to cancel everything for tomorrow by now."

Chuckling, she leaned in and kissed him again. She had this way of coupling a slow, heated kiss with stroking his hair that made him feel like he was sitting in a fire pit in the middle of the Saharan desert.

"Let's stay in tomorrow," she murmured against his lips.

"Perfect. We can do an X-Files marathon."

Sarah giggled and shook her head. "Stop it." She kissed him again.

"No, I'm serious. Nothin' like aliens and—"

He stopped when she pressed her finger to his lips. "Okay, you really need to know when to shut up."

Chuck smirked. "Yeah, true. It's one of my faults."

"I can work with it."

"Oh?"

"I have ways of shutting you up."

"Do y—Oh. Oh, wow you do."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Chuck was in a bit of a sour mood as he pulled up to the parking lot beside the building where Sarah's agency was. That was why he was here in the first place, wasn't it? To get rid of his mood. His girlfriend had a singular way of chasing the dark clouds away.

Also, he was hungry and he thought he'd treat her to lunch.

He hadn't seen her walk out of her apartment this morning with a packed lunch like she did more often these days. It saved money, she said, his frugal and responsible private investigator.

Well, she'd save money today, because lunch was on him.

He needed to get his mom's stinging barbs from earlier out of his mind. He needed to get rid of the anger he'd felt at her words. And he needed to do it before he got up to Sarah's agency, because she'd see the look on his face no matter what he did to hide it, and he'd have to tell her that his mom was being awful about her again.

He hated that it hurt her.

He hated that his mom still did this.

He and Sarah were approaching their second anniversary: it was almost two years since that morning they ate breakfast together on the floor of his half-demolished hotel room in Paris, when they decided to make a genuine go of it. And his mom had known about their relationship for over a year now. She still couldn't just…be nice.

It had felt a lot worse today because he'd almost let himself hope that Mary Bartowski was starting to come to terms with her son's relationship with the woman Pinkerton sent to protect him two and a half years ago, her son's relationship with the woman he had more than proven he was in love with. And he felt like Sarah had more than proven she reciprocated his feelings.

His mother had been almost pleasant, in a sincere way, the past few weeks. She'd extended a genuine invite over the weekend for Chuck and Sarah to come have a meal with the whole family. That had included Devon's parents, even, which was just…unheard of. Even when she had asked Chuck about inviting Sarah's parents, when he told her that they weren't in the picture, since he didn't really know much more than that honestly, his mom had seemed sorry and sympathetic, rather than using it as yet another reason to hint something was wrong with Sarah. There was no tone when she'd said, "Oh. Poor Sarah. I didn't know." And it had given him some hope.

But today, she'd gone back to her usual business when she'd visited Chuck in his office, asking whether Sarah was getting clientele yet, if "after all of this time", she actually had a job. As though the months and months of her building up her agency wasn't literally a job, even if she didn't get paid for it until she took on her first case.

It was worse because he'd built so much hope, only to have it dashed. Like she'd been saving it up for the exact purpose to make him feel even more like shit. He knew that wasn't the case. And he knew she had misgivings about Sarah for reasons that were real for her. But she was wrong. And until she accepted Sarah, she'd always be wrong.

He needed to find some way to deal with it besides being so angry all the time. He was well past done allowing his mother to hurt Sarah, and that meant keeping these small rifts he had with his mother over her from reaching her ears.

Taking a deep breath, he got out of his car and headed inside of the building, pressing the button and waiting for the elevator.

He straightened his blazer and took another deep breath. He was about to see his favorite person in the world for the second time in one day, if waking up beside her this morning counted. He counted it. And he was incredibly happy about it, ready for it. He needed it, frankly.

Even just seeing that epic door of hers, with the foggy glass and her name printed on it: Walker Investigative Enterprises. It filled him with joy. She was living her dream. She was here. They were here together.

His mom could frankly sit down and shut up. He tried not to inwardly wince at that thought. As though wherever she was, Mary Bartowski might feel or hear his thought about her, fly to his side, and ground him, send him to his room, bar him from his video games.

Chuck opened the door to her outer office and stopped when he heard voices inside of her personal office. Oh…she had a client, a visitor, someone was here. He felt like maybe he should turn back, leave, and come back in fifteen minutes maybe. He could text her first. And then he'd come back.

Or…

He could eavesdrop…since that was what he wanted to do more. As much as he knew he shouldn't. But he just wanted to.

So he oh so silently crept in and eased the door shut. The hinge creaked a bit and he made a note to bring some WD40 at some point to fix that. But he didn't hear the voices stop, so he assumed they hadn't heard.

"This fee is more than doable," the man in her office said, his voice wafting out of the not-quite-shut door. "In fact, it feels like a steal. Why don't you let me give you more up front?"

"It isn't necessary," Sarah said. "I have a set rate I charge my clients depending on the type of case and the work that will go into it. This is a fair price to start."

"It's too fair. I'll up it by thirty-three percent." The man chuckled. "Oh, come on. You know, I'm trying really hard here to thank you. A little kindness, you know…" Chuck rolled his eyes at that. "For someone I like." That made him frown a little. "And it helps that upping the paycheck I give you means I might get even better work from you."

"I do my job pretty well with the rate I set."

"That's not what I mean at all."

"No, I know," Sarah said, being more than reasonable, Chuck thought. "Robbie, please just agree to this, read through it, sign. That's all I need from you. This amount here, write me a check up front. And the rest when I finish the job. I reserve the right to charge more depending on the work I end up having to do for the case."

Robbie…?

"You're really stubborn, you know that? But I'll match your stubbornness as we continue to see one another, you just give me some time." There was a pause, the sound of papers being turned, the scratching of a pen against paper. "This is a lot better than an Apple terms and services agreement, I'll tell you that. You get right to the point, don't you, Sarah Walker?"

"I find brevity works better for everyone involved."

"Oh, not me. I love complications. I'd have complications' children if it was at all possible."

Chuck heard Sarah giggle at that. He felt a bit of heat come up from his collar, knowing how foolish it was immediately. Even if this Robbie fellow was obviously charming and even more obviously flirting with his girlfriend, his girlfriend hadn't flirted back—nor would she. It wasn't his ego telling him that, it was his trust in her, in them.

And he needed to cool it with the green-eyed monster.

But he found it even harder to do when he leapt back to the visitor chair and sat down, grabbing the issue of Cosmopolitan that was sitting there and picking it up to pretend he was reading it, because out came a stupidly handsome man, dressed in a spiffy, tailored suit, insanely perfect swoosh-hair, and blue eyes that were literally sparkling as he looked over his shoulder at Sarah as she followed him out of her private office.

"So you're shooing me out—?" The words died on the stupidly handsome man's lips as he noticed Sarah had stopped, looking at something else. That something else was Chuck and he was pretty mollified and gratified both by the dazzling smile she flashed him after her client spun to see what she was looking at. Or whom.

"Oh," Sarah said. "You're here."

"I am." He nodded once, then looked down at the magazine in his hands. The page he'd randomly opened it to in order to make it seem like he wasn't eavesdropping was absolutely a full-page How To chart for oral sex. "Ahem." He dropped the magazine back to the table. "Interesting…articles…in there. Informative," he said, tugging at his suit a bit to straighten it.

The stupidly handsome man seemed to just be standing there awkwardly then, and Sarah snapped out of her amused, but somewhat searching look, and gestured towards the door.

"Mister Cartwright, I'll fill you in on what I find Monday when we meet again."

"You don't work on weekends then, huh?" Cartwright asked, smiling teasingly.

"I do, yes. Hence why I'll have something for you on Monday."

Yeah, you stupidly pretty assmunch, Chuck thought to himself with an inward smirk. God, she was so hot.

"Oh. That makes sense." He chuckled self-deprecatingly, then turned to eye Chuck a bit expectantly.

It became clear to everyone in the room that he wouldn't leave without some sort of an introduction. So Sarah, very reluctantly Chuck saw, moved between them and reached out in his direction. "Oh, excuse me, Mister Cartwright. This is Mister…"

"Bartowski," Chuck said, stepping closer and sticking his hand out. "Charles Bartowski."

Robert Cartwright's eyes widened in recognition as he took his hand. "As in Bartowski Electronics Corporation?"

"That's the one, yes. Nice to meet you, Mister, uh…"

"Cartwright," the other man said with a grin. Sarah gave Chuck a bit of a droll but amused look that only he could see.

"Cartwright, yes. Sorry. Have so much on my mind, always."

"Oh, yes. Yes. So you're seeking Miss Walker's services as well, are you?" He crossed his arms at his chest.

"Yes. Yes, I am…seeking Miss Walker's services." He shared a bit of a look with Sarah and he could see that telltale sparkle in her blue eyes, the way she twisted her pursed lips to the side, probably to keep from smiling or laughing.

"Well, I don't think either of us has anything to worry about. You're highly recommended, Miss Walker. I've heard nothing but very good things, and I get around and hear…well, quite a lot. In my business." Cartwright clapped his hand on Chuck's shoulder, even though he'd been talking to and looking at Sarah.

"Yes, Walker Investigative Enterprises operates with the utmost discretion. So discreet. Professional." Cartwright turned back to Chuck as he responded.

She mouthed "Stop it" from where she stood behind Cartwright, her eyes wide, amusement threatening to boil over.

"Indeed, Charles. Indeed. Well, Miss Walker, I'll let you see to your other client, I suppose, though it's hard to pull myself away, I admit…" the other man groused, and then he reached out his hand towards Sarah for her to shake. He held onto her hand for longer than Chuck thought was necessary, then bid his goodbye and swept out of the place.

He was charming as all get-out and it made Chuck feel…grumpy. And what in the hell was with the strange clip in his accent, like he was concentrating? It didn't feel like an easy charm and it unsettled him. It was probably jealousy. And he was even grumpier about that.

But then Sarah sidled up to him, twisted her hands in the lapels of his jacket, and pulled him in for a slow kiss. "Mmmmm," she hummed, before pulling back, their noses and foreheads pressed together. "Why didn't you just let me tell him you're my boyfriend?"

"Honestly? Two reasons. The first is that he'd trust a recommendation from a super rich tech guru with high expectations over a recommendation from your boyfriend." That made her grin. "The second is that if you told him I was your boyfriend, after all of that flirting he was doing at you, it'd be a little embarrassing for him and I wouldn't be able to hold back the hubris. Which is just rude."

Sarah looked like she was going to laugh, but then an intelligent spark lit her eyes and she pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow. "He wasn't really flirting that bad…"

"Uh, yes. Yes, he kinda was. I mean, he doesn't seem like a full-fledged garden or anything…"

"Garden?" she asked, making a face.

"Seedy. It's a new thing Morgan and I came up with. The term'll catch on. Just wait."

"Oh my God." She just shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, her usual reaction to the weird phrases he and Morgan tried to trademark.

"Wait." She looked at him funny. "Are you…jealous?"

Chuck scoffed. "Nah. It's just…I mean, I walked in and you called him, um, Robbie. And when he flirted with you, there was a liiittle bit of a giggle that came out of you. I'm just sayin'. I heard it. But…I mean, no big deal."

"Chuck, stop."

"No, it's just that he looks like someone took him right out of GQ's Face Edition."

"There's no such thing."

"If there was, he'd be the cover. He's a ManFatale, Sarah. Don't let those baby blues fool ya. That one's dangerous." He leaned his face close to hers and narrowed his eyes, lifting an eyebrow.

"Oh my God," she groaned, letting her forehead fall to his shoulder. "Chuck, I was—" Then she stopped, pulling back a bit and looking up at him through her eyelashes. "I really don't have to explain myself, do I?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"You know you don't," he said softly.

"I didn't think so."

"But seriously, he's kind of too charming. That's weird. And also, how'd he know who I am, Sarah?"

She gave him her 'what the fuck' look. "Chuck, I literally just told him who you are. I introduced you to him."

"No, I know. But he knew Bartowski Electronics Corporation. What's that about?"

"Seriously, Chuck? It's not exactly like B.E.C. isn't well-known. You were on the cover of Forbes with your dad. Where do you think all of that money I'm dating you for comes from?"

"Haaah," he drawled mockingly, sending her a faux glare that made her giggle. "I'm just saying, I'm a little suspicious."

"You're a little jealous."

He held up his fingers. "Just this much. That's all. He looks like a god, Sarah. And he was flirting. Admit that." She conceded with a small shrug. "Am I allowed a little jealousy? Even if I acknowledge it's silly?"

She giggled quietly and kissed him again. "Yes. It's good for my ego. But that doesn't mean you can start flirting back at that Benji Thompson guy's daughter who was at your parents' little anniversary shindig a few months ago."

"Marilyn?"

"Yes. Her."

The way she narrowed her eyes was extremely gratifying, and he held onto the sensations of knowing that interaction had made Sarah into a bit of a green-eyed monster. Not to mention she'd remembered Marilyn Thompson even all these months later. Hmm. "Well, at least we're being ridiculous together," he snarked.

Sarah snorted. "True." She kissed him one more time, then fixed the collar of his suit jacket. He didn't know if it really had needed fixing or if it was just a habit of hers to play with it. "What brings you here today, my tech guy? Miss me already? Even after this morning?"

Her blue eyes glinted with what she'd done to him this morning and he cleared his throat, his hands balling into fists over the waist of her pencil skirt she wore. "I think especially after this morning, if I'm bein' honest."

That made her giggle.

"I actually wanted to take you to lunch. If you haven't eaten."

She hadn't.

And that was how they found themselves sitting across from one another at a breakfast and lunch cafe a few blocks away from her office. He watched as she hungrily shoved her burger in her mouth and took a massive bite. He was glad he'd pulled her away to eat. Any later and she would've let herself start to become Hangry Sarah. And Hangry Sarah was almost as bad as Hangry Chuck. God, the few times Hangry Sarah and Hangry Chuck had met…scary. Truly scary. Morgan had nearly been murdered but thankfully the chef had fed them fast enough to protect himself.

So he waited until she'd gotten enough into her system to eat a bit slower before he brought up the other thing.

"Hey…So…Interesting timing, me coming to take you to lunch today, what with your meeting with Cartwright and everything being today as well." She made a questioning face as she sipped her ice tea to wash the burger down. "Well, because I was actually going to talk to you about that case. Cartwright's case I mean."

"Why? You have info or something for me?" she asked around a fry.

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "So, this um…" Chuck leaned in closer to her and lowered his voice. "Jerald Brown guy, the one Face Edition is having you investigate." She gave him a flat look at the new nickname he was using for her client but he ignored it. "He works in the tech industry."

She nodded. "Yeah. He has a large share in Gridiron Technology."

"GT deals mostly with the big machines, like the big security systems, power grid, all that digital stuff big firms and factories are using to operate and protect their businesses." Sarah nodded again, as though she already knew all of this. "GT is looking for a new investor. Someone else they can bring in to buy some shares and add some power and money to the whole thing, get back some clout after their stock took a hit last year."

"Cartwright," she said.

"Mhm, that was my thought."

She smiled at him. "How'd you find all this out?"

"Babe, I'm in the know. Duuuuh." She rolled her eyes as he picked at the lettuce on his own burger and put a bit in his mouth. "This is my playground. My dad's pals with all of these guys. Or at least, he knows of them. And because he does, I tend to learn stuff, hear stuff as well. But!" Chuck held up a finger. "This is really hush-hush. They don't want to seem like they need this investor. So they're being discreet, operating it under the radar, so to speak."

"So is that shady? Seems like it could be shady."

"It could be, but it'd be a lot of damn work and for what reason? There's also the fact that Jerald Brown has a reputation."

"What kind of reputation?"

"A really good one. Family man, good business, fair, honest."

"Family man." She rolled her eyes. "That's such a loaded phrase."

He winced. "Really good point. He has a family and he seems close with them, though."

"You ever meet him? Do business with him?"

"No, but…I mean, speaking from experience, I'd say Brown is a lot more trustworthy than this god-like Casanova giving you money to investigate a guy who seems pretty upstanding."

"Chuck, your green-eyed monster is showing."

"No, it's not that," he hissed. "Brown is a tech guy. I trust a tech guy over a smarmy rich guy who, frankly, you don't even know where he gets his money. Let's be real, here. Um, also, Jerald Brown can be found on Google."

"Stop," she said in a flat tone. "Chuck, come on. You're being biased because Brown works in your industry and you heard Cartwright flirt at your girlfriend."

"No, I—Sarah, please. You know I'm not that childish." She smirked and he frowned at her. "Fine. Look. Just keep what I said in mind, huh? And maybe look into Gridiron Tech a bit more closely."

"That's good advice, and I also appreciate you giving me that info about GT, Chuck. Thank you," she said, sliding her hand over his on the table and squeezing. "And please, try not to be too jealous. Said with no sarcasm and full seriousness. His Alain Delon looks don't have any effect on me. Not when I have my very own curly-haired, handsome moneybags."

"Talk about my money too much and I'll start getting ideas."

"Oh? What kind of ideas?"

"Expanding the company to make even more money. Gotta keep ya around somehow." She laughed and he put his tongue between his teeth, wrinkling his nose cheekily. "With all these Alain Whoever ManFatales kicking your door in, one of 'em might succeed in sweeping you away from me otherwise."

"You're such an idiot."

"Buuuut you love meeee."

"On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

Chuck snorted and ate his last couple of fries. "I'm really glad it's Friday, then."

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