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goldentournesol · 3 years

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Truth or Dare

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer is married with children and JJ confesses her love for him. Length: 2.7k A/N: this is technically a bonus chapter of The Receptionist and the Profiler but can definitely be read as a standalone. this is my take on the JJ confession, enjoy! don’t be shy, leave a comment or reblog! masterlist

Y/N furiously clicked her mouse in response to her computer screen lagging. She released an exasperated sigh and placed her head into her hands. She could practically feel the bags under her eyes increase in size and depth as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Raising two children and being the BAU’s liaison was proving to be extremely difficult, she couldn’t go out into the field or travel with the team as much. After what happened with Cat Adams, she had a hard time leaving Emelia and Adaline. Emily only requested her help as a liaison in the field when she absolutely needed it, anything else could be taken care of from Quantico. Her head pounded against her palms and her only reprieve from her incessant headache was closing her eyes. She must have dozed off in her office because the next thing she knew, she was waking up to a warm hand squeezing her shoulder.

She shot up in her seat, heart beating at an alarming rate until she was met with her husband’s eyes. Her shoulders instantly relaxed, “You’re back.” She said with relief, standing to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter than usual.

She fought back a yawn and nodded, “Yeah, I’m just exhausted.” She pulled back and rested her hands on his face to inspect for injuries and found none on his face. A bandaged hand wrapped around one of her wrists and she gasped, “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not that deep, just a little gash.” Spencer said dismissively, his thumb rubbing against her wrist. “Let’s go home.” She nodded and quickly packed her things, eager to see her two baby girls.

On her way out, she noticed JJ and Rossi speaking in hushed tones. She managed to wave at them as she and Spencer made their way to the elevator. Rossi waved back, JJ looked away. Y/N had thought nothing of it, perhaps this had been a hard case on her. At least they had Rossi’s wedding tomorrow to look forward to and unwind a little. The girls would be with a babysitter and Y/N was looking forward to dressing up and hopefully getting a little (a lot) wine drunk.

Spencer was silent the entire way home, which wasn’t uncommon, so again, Y/N had thought nothing of it. As soon as they made it through the door, Emelia and Adaline came running up to the door, squealing with glee. Each parent scooped up a baby girl and showered them with kisses until they switched.

Here, with a beautiful healthy daughter in his arms, he could forget about all the confusion of JJ’s confession. Spencer usually dealt with these difficult things on his own and in his head. He hadn’t had time to process it fully to bring it to his wife. He would deal with it later, right now, all he wanted was to spend time with his three favorite girls. Y/N hadn’t noticed anything different in the way Spencer was acting around the girls, but each hug he gave her felt a little tighter. She appreciated it and was definitely not about to complain about receiving tighter hugs from her husband.

The suspicions began the next day at Rossi’s wedding. With the girls not serving as a distraction, Y/N began to see the signs of Spencer retreating into himself. She hadn’t heard all the details of the last case yet, but Emily will soon let her know.

Emily was in the middle of giving a speech when Y/N snuck a look at Spencer beside her. He was politely listening, but everything about his eyes let her know that he was elsewhere. She caught JJ’s eye across the room, it seems as though JJ was staring at her husband as well. Before Y/N could ask with her eyes, JJ had looked away once more, the aversion of her gaze hinting at shame. A sinking feeling resided in her chest.

She leaned towards him, linking their arms together, her heart strings intertwining with his in some metaphysical sense. Her sudden affection made him turn to her and send her a small smile. He quieted down the question in her eyes with a tender kiss to her cheek, knowing for a fact that the woman across the room watched what happened, a silent declaration of what he chose, what he will always choose.

Before they knew it, the music began blaring with Luke, Matt, and Penelope stealing the show with their dance moves. Y/N couldn’t contain her laughter as she watched them all prance around. In true Garcia fashion, she approached her and pulled her up to begin dancing. Y/N looked back towards Spencer for help but he just laughed and encouraged her to dance. All too soon, the music morphed into a slow paced rhythm. Turning around to ask Spencer to dance, she found the seat to be empty. Eyes flitting to the bar, she found Spencer and JJ in the middle of a conversation.

“Hey, you can dance with me!” Tara said, whisking Y/N away from the scene. Y/N sent her a small grateful smile, but her curiosity was heavy.

“Is JJ okay? Did something happen?” Y/N asked Tara as they slow danced together. Tara was visibly taken aback by the question, she thought Spencer would have told Y/N about what had happened by now, but she decided that it was not her story to tell.

“Yeah, JJ’s totally fine.” Tara said dismissively and began steering Y/N away from that conversation. They soon broke apart to gather around the cake. Y/N was only half paying attention until she saw JJ take her place next to Will and was alerted of Spencer’s presence as he placed his hands on her hips from behind. She leaned into his warmth and let it go for the final time that night, she would ask about it when they were alone. But by the time the night ended, JJ was not on Y/N’s list of important things to remember. She was a little bit past tipsy and Spencer practically had to drag her out to their car.

The weekend went by smoothly, Spencer had his head buried in mountains of papers from his students even though Y/N told him that he could read them online and save so much paper. The weekend had come and gone and they were back in the office in the blink of an eye. The awkwardness between the two lifelong friends resumed. JJ was arguably the closest person to Spencer on the team (besides Y/N of course), so she found it more than weird that the two were actively avoiding each other.

Lunch time came around and Y/N had had enough of it, she snuck into Penelope’s office.

“Hey, sunshine!” Penelope greeted, taking a hefty bite out of her donut.

“Hey.” Y/N said, leaning against the desk adjacent to Penelope’s, stirring her coffee.

“What’s going on?” Penelope stared at her knowingly. Y/N immediately put the coffee down and stared at Penelope.

“Did something happen between JJ and Spence on the last case?” Y/N asked directly, deciding that beating around the bush would help no one.

Y/N didn’t miss the slight widening of Penelope’s eyes, “Wh-what? Why would you ask that?”

“They’ve been acting really awkward around each other and JJ’s been avoiding me like the plague.” Y/N huffed.

Penelope panicked, stuttering out, “I uh, I really think you should talk to Spencer.”

“No one’s telling me anything! Not you, not Tara! Should I be worried?” She asked, exasperated.

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so. Spencer loves you.” Penelope said surely.

Spencer loves you.

What does that even mean?

Y/N turned on her heel, leaving her coffee and marched all the way to Spencer’s desk. The carpet drowned out the clickity clack of her heels. Spencer raised his head from his files to smile at her.

“My office, now.” Y/N said simply, her tone neither angry nor cool, his smile retreating as he followed her like a puppy. Matt and Luke shared a knowing look between them and pretended to focus on their work so as to not get caught in the line of fire.

She closed the door and the blinds, crossing her arms and turning to see him taking a seat, “Care to explain why Garica just felt the need to assure me that my husband loves me? Or to explain why you and JJ have been acting so weird and having secret conversations? Or maybe why she’s been acting like I don’t exist for the past 3 and a half days?”

For a moment, Spencer looked like a child who had been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar, then his face returned to an unnerving mask of calm. This mask made her panic even more.

“Does this have anything to do with the hostage situation you two were in?” Y/N asked, she had just gone over the report that morning, but it had little to no details.

Spencer took a deep breath and rested both hands on his thighs, in any other circumstance, Y/N might have been tempted to sit across his lap and kiss him until they were both red in the face. But not right now, right now she needed answers.

“Yes, well--okay, yes. Something did happen. I promise I was going to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time to bring it up, I didn’t want to bring it up at home around the girls, and I didn’t want to bring it up here either.” Spencer said, leaning back to rest against the chair.

“What happened?” Y/N took a seat across from him, no longer feeling the need to attack, but rather to understand.

“JJ and I were being held hostage. The unsub, Casey, was about to shoot JJ and me. He told her to reveal something that she’d never say aloud and she…” Spencer swallowed, trailing off. Y/N leaned forward, already expecting where this was going.

“She told me that she’s always loved me and that she was just too scared to say it before.” He spoke softly, meeting her eyes.

Y/N blinked slowly, “Bullshit.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure she wasn’t just saying that in front of the unsub to get him to back down? Are you sure it was real?” Y/N said, standing up from her seat. She paced around her room, trying to piece together any evidence from the past few years that could back up that claim.

JJ had been the one to push Y/N and Spencer together. JJ couldn’t have had all these feelings for Spencer. What about Will? Henry? Michael? They were her and Spencer’s Godchildren for crying out loud. Y/N’s brain was going a hundred miles a minute. Spencer watched her pace around the small office.

“I, I don’t know. It seemed real.” Spencer wished what he had to say would calm his wife, but he really didn’t know at this point.

“Do you…” she swallowed, the question heavy on her tongue, “do you feel the same?” The tears were ready, resting at her waterline, waiting for the call. Her insecurities were ready to take over.

“No!” Spencer objected, standing from his seat. Normally, his defensive reply would have made her suspicious, but the look of utter shock and hurt on his face quelled any doubt that arose.

“No, I don’t. I love you. I have always loved you. God, you know this, I’ve loved you even when you weren’t mine to love. I’ve loved you since I was just a baby faced profiler and you were just a receptionist. I will never stop loving you and the girls, Y/N.” He said definitively, walking towards his wife and grabbing her clammy hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to each of her hands, staring into her teary eyes.

The cavern in her chest began to patch itself up as he looked at her that way. She had no choice but to believe him.

“Okay, I believe you.” She smiled, a tear escaping. He reached up to tenderly swipe it away. With a simple tilt of his chin, he captured her lips in an intense, passionate kiss and like all of their kisses, he took her breath away. But something about the desperation in this kiss made it hard for her lungs to perceive air. He had a point to prove.

A few moments of silence passed between them and Y/N took a deep breath, “I should talk to JJ.”

Spencer hadn’t pulled away yet, “It’s your choice, my love.” He placed a soft kiss to the center of her forehead and stepped back to catch her eye, “Are we okay?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him, “Yes, we’re okay. Can you ask JJ to come in after you leave?”

With a nod and another kiss, he left the office to go summon JJ. Y/N took her seat at her desk and folded her hands in anticipation, the undeniable and unrelenting feelings of anger and jealousy coursing right underneath her skin.

A gentle knock sounded throughout the small office and Y/N invited her to take a seat before her.

“Listen, Y/N, if this is about what I said back--” JJ began, but Y/N wasn’t interested in any of the formalities.

“Did you mean it?” Y/N asked, making direct eye contact. JJ was taken aback at the similarities between Y/N’s question and Spencer’s. They had both asked in the same way. She wasn’t ready back then. But she is now.

“Yes..” JJ whispered, averting her gaze once more. The gaze of the wife of the man she thought she loved was too heavy to face straight on.

“Yes, what? Do you love my husband?” Y/N spoke with an unrecognizable sharp edge to her voice.

“Yes, I love him. I’ve always known it. Things just got too messy too quickly. I have Will and the boys and I would never ever give them up. Spence-- Spencer has you and the girls and I could never dream of taking him away from you.” JJ spoke clearly, her eyes reddening and glistening with unshed tears.

“You are the perfect wife, I watched him fall in love with you. You’re also the best mother to his children, it’s hard not to be jealous of you.” JJ continued. The sinking feeling returned to her chest.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, I’m just doing my best. You’re one of the greatest mothers I have ever known. I need you to tell me that this is where it ends, JJ. I cannot afford the stress.” Y/N replied.

“This is where it ends, I promise. It’s over. He has you and Emelia and Adaline and I have Will, Henry, and Michael. If we were ever meant to be, then it would have happened. He deserves you, after everything he’s been through. He deserves you.” She said tearfully, wiping away stray tears.

Y/N stood from her seat and walked around her desk to embrace her in a tight hug. JJ cried into her shoulder, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know. It’s okay, we’re okay.” Y/N rubbed her shoulder, pulling away.

“Are things going to be awkward now?” JJ chuckled, blowing her nose.

“Only if you keep avoiding me.” Y/N joked back, JJ promised she wouldn’t and excused herself to get back to work.

Y/N followed her out and stopped at her door. Leaning against her door frame, she caught her husband’s eye across the bullpen and sent him a smile and a nod.

It’ll be alright.

They’ll be alright.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #the receptionist and the profiler #tratp #spencer reid imagine #jeid #jeid confession

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joel-millerr · 3 years

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The Chase - One Shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Rating: explicit

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You bet Mando you could last two hours on the run without him catching you. Reluctantly, he agrees to the bet.

Warnings: outdoor (rough & unprotected) sex, hunter and hunted type of vibe, mild choking, being gagged, size kink, mando talks a lot during sexy time, maybe slight dom/sub mentions?

A/N: this is just my take on the whole “bounty hunter and quarry” fantasy. also I basically wrote the smut and then added context around it. this is pretty much shameless smut ///

*Masterlist can be found here**

It started out as innocent banter.

“I definitely think I could last a couple days,” you told him, slouching in the passenger seat inside the cockpit.

The modulator scoffed at you. “No.”

“Are you doubting my skills?” You asked, eyebrow cocked.

He swiveled his chair around to face you. “That’s not it.”

“Then tell me what it is, Mando.”

Even though you weren’t able to see what his expression was, you could tell by his body language that he was getting annoyed. The way his hands fidgeted at his sides, the way he leaned his body back in the chair—something he did every time you tried to rile him up about something. Despite the fact that he hid behind the beskar, he was generally easy to read whenever he was irritated.

“I bet I can last two days.”

“You wouldn’t last two hours, let alone two days.”

Now that was a challenge you didn’t want to back down from. Anytime someone told you that you couldn’t do something, it scratched that itch inside you to do that exact thing. Your incessant need to prove people wrong sometimes got the best of you, but Maker, the satisfaction you got from it was worth the consequences.

“I’ll take that bet,” you said to him, feeling your stomach stir.

“I wasn’t—”

“Too bad, Mando. You challenged me and I accept.”

And then the rest was history. All you had to do was last two hours without Mando tracking you down and then you could die happy knowing you evaded the best bounty hunter in the parsec, even if it were for a short period of time.

You’re not sure what planet Mando lands the Crest on but it’s definitely one of the quieter ones because he’s landed the ship in a large clearing with only woods as far as the eye can see. It’s not a problem for you, though. Growing up on Naboo meant you were always exposed to forests and clear landscape. In theory, this is the best place he could have chosen, not that you’d tell him that.

“There are some ground rules for this,” he begins to say, standing in the galley of the Crest.

“I’m all ears,” you answer back.

Mando lets out a chuff of air that crackles up through his vocoder, like he’s still considering calling this whole thing off, but after weeks of still not finding a Jedi for the kid, you both need a little distraction.

“First thing, no guns.”

“Okay, that’s understandable.”

“Secondly, you keep the commlink open at all times,” he orders.

“Not a problem,” lips curling into a smile, you already feel the adrenaline pump through your veins, body itching to get this whole bet started.

“Thirdly, if you somehow manage to last the day, we check in once it gets dark.”

“Ouch,” you take a step back, slightly offended at his jab. “You have so little faith in me.”

“I’m not the one overestimating my abilities,” he jests. Who knew Mando could be so snarky?

“Do we call it off at night and wait till dawn?”

“If you want to make to things easier.”

Oh, so that’s how he wants to play.

“All right, Mando. We don’t stop.”

“I don’t know how safe this planet it, but you shouldn’t run into any trouble.”

“Okay, yeah Mando, let’s do this,” you’re basically shaking from the thrill of all this. You can’t wait to show off your evading skills.

“I’ll give you an hour head start. Put as much distance between yourself and the Crest as you can.”

“Don’t worry, Mando. This isn’t my first time running away from someone,” you say with a smug smile.

“Fine,” his voice terse.

Your turn your back to him and face the open ramp. With your heart banging against your ribcage and your palms damp with sweat, this might be the most exhilarating thing you’ve ever done.

“Be safe, I’ll see you soon,” He says with a hint of mockery. He’s so confident in himself, it’s actually getting under your skin.

Looking over your shoulder, you hit him with your own jab, “We’ll see about that,” and then you’re descending the ramp.

Once your feet hit the ground, you think of the best direction to head towards. In order to do this successfully, you’ll need to choose every single one of your movements very carefully because any slip up could end up hurting your chances to win.

You hear your named being called, so you turn around to look back at the Crest and see Mando standing at the top of the ramp.

“When I do find you, try to put up a fight.”

That sends heat right to the apex of your thighs. If you didn’t have enough incentive, that was the last nail in the coffin. You’ll make this as hard for Mando as you possibly can.

You shoot him one last devilish grin and disappear from sight, opting to go to your right. Once you reach the forest edge, you break off into a sprint, heading deeper and deeper into the foliage.

The forest isn’t too dense, but there are roots everywhere on the ground and you stumble on a couple of them, nearly falling flat on your face. The positive to having so many branches and roots in the ground means the chances of your footprints showing up in the mud are low but Mando’s got a heat tracker on his helmet, meaning he can still track your movements without actually seeing your prints.

The adrenaline keeps telling you to run, run as fast as you can, but the rational part of your brain realizes that no matter how much distance you put between you and Mando, it won’t matter unless you have a clear plan as to what tactics you’ll need to use in order to make sure he doesn’t find you.

Should you try to find the closest village?

Should you stay in the forest?

Think, think…

You continue to put some more distance between you two and when you feel as though you’ve made some progress, you check the clock on your commlink.

2:50PM.

In ten minutes, Mando will leave the Crest and begin tracking you. You’ll have to start making important decisions soon. When you entered the planet’s atmosphere, you tried to pinpoint a specific spot that might give you some kind of advantage. If your memory serves you correctly, you saw a small area that appeared to be some kind of canyon. Ideally, that might be the perfect spot to find some shelter. A hard surface means no footprints.

Now if you could only find out how far away you are from it…

As you take in your surroundings—which is basically just trees and more trees, you think about finding a high enough viewpoint for you to see where this possible haven could be. A few metres away you happen to see a tree that appears to be much larger than the rest of the ones around it. Its branches look sturdy enough for a human to climb and it doesn’t take you long before you’re heading straight for it. You haven’t climbed a tree in years but if there was a perfect moment to touch-up on your skills, it’s right now.

As you climb up the stump, the branches and leaves break apart, and the sky begins to get clearer and clearer. When you finally reach the very top, you’re so high up that you’re able to spot what you were looking for. It looks like it’s a couple more clicks away, but you were lucky enough to be already heading in that direction. The Maker must be on your side.

One more look at the clock.

3:01PM.

Shit, you have to start moving.

If you start to climb down the tree, you’ll end up losing precious time, allowing Mando to close some of the distance. It’s something you can’t risk. Eyes scanning the woodland between you and your hideout, you come to the conclusion that you’ll have to jump from tree to tree and pray you don’t fall and break any bones. It’s incredibly risky, and your inner self is warning you against it. If you do fall, you’re screwed, breaking a lot of the bones in your body. You’ll have to hope that these branches will be able to carry your weight.

Trying to balance yourself on one of tree’s larger arms, you crawl across it on your knees, knowing damn well if you stood up, you’d lose your balance and fall down, and it would be a pretty big fall. You’re easily fifteen feet off the ground, maybe more. Fuck, this might have been a horrible idea, but it’s frankly too late to turn back, you’ve made up your mind and you need to go through with it.

The jump from the branch you’re currently on to the adjacent one you’ll be jumping onto is about four feet, but it’s not the jump that concerns you. What concerns you is the sturdiness of that branch. Will the impact cause it to snap? Will it make too much noise, letting Mando hear it? All these questions are racing through your mind as you hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The longer you consider it, the more time you waste. You’ll just have to take the chance and hope everything works in your favor.

“Okay… I can do this,” you whisper, psyching yourself up.

As you slowly rise to your feet, your legs are buckling. You take one last look down, fully realizing that this idea is absolutely bonkers and jump.

When your body hits the branch, you latch your arms around it, landing on your stomach. To your surprise, the branch doesn’t break off, it barely even moves.

Success.

You continue to leap from branch to branch, until the rest of trees in your wake look too unstable for you to leap onto. Luckily, the tree you’re currently on isn’t too far from the ground, so you’re able to climb down it in under five minutes before reaching the ground. Keeping still for a moment, you wait to hear something.

A twig snap, leaves rustling, anything, but you don’t hear a single sound.

“Did you actually climb these trees?” You hear Mando’s voice through the commlink on your wrist, which startles you.

Is he already there? He’s already so close, how is he already so fucking close to you?

“Um, no?” You reply.

“That’s convincing,” he answers dryly.

If Mando’s already reached the tree you started climbing at, then he’s really not far behind. You’ll need to start sprinting again. Without trying to make noise, you begin to tiptoe around the forest, trying to be as quick and efficient as you can. It doesn’t take long until you see a break in the forest and somehow quicken your tread to the clearing.

Once you reach the wood's edge, you’re about to take a step into the clearing when you stop yourself.

Kriff, if you step into that open field, you’ll be sticking out like a sore thumb, which is a risk you cannot take. Instead, you’ll have to walk along the sides of the clearing, keeping to the trees and hoping you won’t be spotted.

“Are you really about to step into that glade?”

Your breathing hitches, everything inside you is burning up, adrenaline nearly making you shake uncontrollably.

He’s found you.

He sees you.

Keeping very still, you turn your head in every direction, desperately trying to see where Mando is but you can’t see a fucking thing. You consider making a break for it—which direction, though? Do you turn around and head back into the forest and hope that you’ll be able to lose him in the trees? Do you stick to your guns and continue to make for the mountains?

“Better make up your mind quickly, pretty girl. Time’s running out,” he’s fucking taunting you. Mando knows exactly where you are and is relishing in watching you struggle in deciding what to do next.

There’s something incredibly titillating knowing that he’s watching you, right now. Predator watching prey, observing your every move, waiting for the perfect time to ambush you.

“What are the chances I outrun you?” You breathe into the speaker on your wrist, chest puffing in and out heavily.

Mando doesn’t answer right away, mulling over your question. “Very slim.”

“But not impossible?”

You’re sizing yourself up. You know damn well there isn’t a chance you lose him, not when he’s got eyes on you, but you have an advantage on him. Carrying all that armor on his body makes his movements more abrupt, meaning he’s less agile and relies more on his weapons to catch a bounty rather than his own speed. All you need to do is outrun him, make yourself impossible to catch and then maybe, just maybe, you can reach the other end of the forest without getting snatched.

“What are you planning?”

“’Put up a fight’,” you repeat the last words he said to you. “That’s what you said, right?”

“Yes?”

“Well… Come get me.”

And then you’re racing into the glade, your legs moving as fast as you possibly can. The air whipping passed the burning hot skin on your face, lungs feeling like they’re on fire, you’re running so much faster than you ever thought you could. Maker, you didn’t even know you could sprint this fast. Taking one quick look back over your shoulder, you see Mando break out from the forest edge, racing after you. He’s a couple metres behind you, but he seems to be closing the gap between you quicker than your efforts to gain distance.

Starting to panic, you make a sharp turn to the left, hoping he’ll be caught off guard, giving you just a few more seconds to stretch out the distance.

“I’ll give it to you, you’re much quicker than I thought,” he pants.

You’re so close to the forest, just a few more sprints. With your legs burning and getting tired, these last few metres are either going to make or break you, but with the determination to prove him wrong, you refuse to give up. You can almost taste freedom… just one more step—

And then you’re falling to the ground. Face slamming into the grass so hard, your vision goes fuzzy, and your head is pounding, hearing a faint ringing in your ears. When you turn over on your back, you look down at your legs and see your feet wrapped up in grappling line. Still in somewhat of a daze, you try to unravel the coil from your ankles with haste before Mando can close in on you. The tall grass shields your view, stopping you from seeing anything until it’s directly in your face, which mean he can be just a few feet away without you even knowing it. If you have any chance at slipping passed him, you need to move very fast.

Just as the cord untangles from your legs and you jump to your feet, you see Mando standing in front of you, just a little further than arm’s length away. Standing in place, you freeze up like a prey animal being spotted by its predator. Maker, he’s intimidating, carrying himself with such confidence and gusto that it could make even the more fearless predator cower in his presence and because you can’t see his expressions, you have no idea what he’s thinking under that bucket of his.

“Well, you managed to last two hours,” he notices after checking the time on his vambrace.

Relaxing your shoulders and readying yourself to break off into a sprint for the woods, you cock your head to side and chuckle. “Technically, you haven’t caught me yet.”

He tilts his head ever so slowly to the side, chest puffing out. With caution, he takes a step forward and in turn, you step back, maintaining the little distance between you two.

“Don’t make this harder for yourself.”

“When have I ever made it easy for you?”

The visor’s locked on you. Both of you stand incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the first move.

“Don’t run,” he warns.

It’s impossible to ignore the stirring in your stomach. It’s time to face the facts, you’ve already been defeated. There’s not a chance in hell you can possibly win this. You fucked up, somehow. Maybe you shouldn’t have started climbing trees, maybe you should have gone left instead of right. None of those things matter anymore. The only thing that matters how is what your next move is.

“Isn’t this what you really wanted?” His voice hitting low in the register.

Oh?

Does he mean what you think he means? Your pussy gushes, and you’re hit in the face with reality.

You would have to be a fool not to notice the way Mando looks at you on the Crest, and how you look at him. There’s clearly chemistry between you two, maybe even infatuation. It’s been three months since you started travelling with him which means there’s been three months’ worth of sexual tension. Both of you felt it, the electricity in the air whenever you were alone together. The air would get thick, your heartrate would quicken, and you’d wait for him to make a move, but he never did. Whenever you felt like that day was finally the day he’d let go of his devices and fuck you senseless on his ship, he’d retreat to the cockpit and lock himself up for hours, leaving you to take care of yourself in the fresher. It was enough to get the job done, but you wanted him, and you know he felt the same.

So, yeah, you’d be lying to yourself if that idea hadn’t crossed your mind. Getting him in his element, force him to come after you, and when you finally gave in or rather, when he found you, he’d be so caught up in the moment that all the sexual tension that had been building up for the last three months would climax at this very moment. What you couldn’t have anticipated was Mando figuring all of this out and actually calling you out on it.

Slacking your jaw, you lick your bottom lip, staring at the ‘T’ of his visor, realizing that this whole bet was just a façade—that the real reason you started this whole wager was to rile him up.

Mando body shifts, his fingers flexing at his sides.

“Been wanting it for three months, Mando,” you challenge.

He makes a guttural noise in his throat, and now you know you’ve got him. It’s taken three months to get you where you are now. Three months of walking around the Crest, swaying your hips purposely in hopes he’d look at you as you walked by. Three months of not so innocent touches on whatever part of him you could touch. Three months of soft moans and groans, trying to get his attention.

All your hard work is finally going to pay off.

Mando tries to close the gap between you, taking a step towards you. Being the brat you are, you step back.

“You’re really going to make this difficult?” He asks—very much a rhetorical question.

“Come get me, Mando,” the words slip off your tongue, once again trying to entice him.

A game of chicken.

Who’s going to make the first move? Is Mando going to charge for you? Do you let him? Do you turn and try to run away?

In a flash, Mando leaps forward and you’re just quick enough to dodge him, whipping your body towards the forest’s edge and taking large strides forward. You barely make it three feet before there’s more grappling line squeezing your ankles together. Once again, you land on your stomach with just barely enough time to cover your face with your hands.

Now, you know there’s no way you’d be able to get up in time and still somehow slip through his fingers, not that it was ever the point of this bet. You thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of being on the run and having Mando chasing after you but you’re way more interested in what’ll happen next than actually winning.

It’s takes a few seconds for you to get your bearings, and as soon as you begin to push yourself upright, you’re being shoved back into the ground by Mando using his bodyweight against you. He straddles either side of your legs, pushing them together.

“If this is what you wanted, all you had to do was ask,” Mando’s voice suddenly whispers in your ear, pressing himself into your body. He bucks his hips against your ass, his erection nuzzled between your cheeks. Propping himself on his elbows so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight, one of his hands grab hold of your waist, digging into your flesh.

Trying to arch your back, you push your ass out to grind against his cock even more. Maker, you want him so fucking badly. Being fucked in an open field where anyone could see you, it’s daring and intoxicating.

Your hands fumble to your pants, trying to unbutton them and slide them down your thighs. Mando senses your urgency and swats your hands away and then his body leaves you momentarily, just long enough for him to tug your trousers down to your knees. It’s rushed, and you’re already panting underneath him, the anticipation eating you up from the inside.

A leather gloved hand grazes your lips, then he’s pushing two fingers in your mouth. The tastes of earth and salt lingering on your tongue.

“Bite,” he instructs.

You oblige and the glove comes off, discarded just inches away from your face. Without skipping a beat, his naked hand travels down your side, and with your ass in the air, he palms your stomach, keeping you in place and forcing you to arch your back even more. The pool of arousal in your stomach is making you squirm, getting more impatient as the seconds go by.

Mando takes his time trailing your lower belly, fingers barely grazing your skin. Your breathing is completely erratic, panting heavily into the ground. When he finally cups your sex, your breath hitches, a sharp inhale escapes your lips.

“Stars, you’re fucking soaked already,” he admires, and then two calloused fingertips are rubbing tight circles on your clit.

Writhing underneath him, you can barely keep still. The pleasure is overwhelming, something you’ve been waiting for for so long, you can’t believe this is really happening

Your hands grab at his waist with haste, trying to remove his pants but because you can’t see what you’re doing, you’re just aimlessly grabbing at him. He sees you struggling and lifts himself off of you. Hearing a small scuffle, he presses his body into your back again, and you feel his freed cock between your cheeks. Maker, he’s huge… is it possible for someone to feel this big when he hasn’t even stuck it in you yet?

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks breathlessly, his own pants scratching low in his helmet.

“Y-y-yes, please,” you croak, your throat already bone dry.

Gathering as much of your slick on his hand as he can, you feel him smear it all over his length and with your ass still shoved up against him, he teases your entrance with his tip. Hands grabbing at his hips with urgency, he actually fucking chuckles and then starts burying himself inside you.

Stars, he’s fucking huge, it almost burns how much he’s stretching your walls. Your eyes wrench shut so hard; you’re seeing stars. It feels like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs, you can’t even make a sound as your jaw fucking drops. He buries himself deeper and deeper—kriff you’re not sure how much more you can take. Your body freezes once he’s fully inside you, teasing your cervix with his head.

“F-f-fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes out once he’s filled you to the hilt. Steadying himself on his palms, his cuirass leaves your back, but he doesn’t move. He just sits there, giving you time to acclimate to his size. “I’ll try to be gentle—”

“No,” you say, cutting him off. “Please, j-just, fuck—do what you want,” you’re basically sobbing already, and he hasn’t even begun to fuck you.

He slowly pulls out and when you feel just the head still inside you, he slams into you so hard, you jerk forwards and cry out, your whole body stilling from being so full.

“You have to be quiet, someone might hear,” he tells you gently, pulling out again ever so slowly.

In an effort to stifle your moans, you bite down hard on your bottom lip, and when he bucks his hips and crashes into you again, you’re unable to stop the shriek that escapes you. Balancing himself on one arm, he grabs the discarded glove by your face and stuffs it into your mouth, gagging you with it and then begins really fucking you.

He drives his cock into you at a grueling speed, stopping his rhythm momentarily to roll his hips against your ass, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him. Whatever pathetic noise tries to slip through your lips is muffled by leather and you’re grateful for it because your cries would echo through the field if not for the glove.

Mando drops his weight back on you, feeling his breastplate dig into your back. He lets his cock just sit there as his naked hand wraps around your neck, applying pressure with two fingers. He resumes his pace, jackhammering your pussy with so much force, his balls slapping against your skin echo through the clearing.

“Shit, this—this is what you wa-anted?” He hisses, never once relenting his rhythm.

You couldn’t have planned for how mind-blowing this is. The daydreams, the dreams while you slept, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing. Nothing in your imagination even comes close to the actual feeling of Mando fucking you senseless in the middle of an open area. You’re so close to your climax already, something no other person has even gotten close to doing. Mando knows how to fuck, how to reach the right spots inside you, how to drive you fucking insane.

“Yes, ah-shit, yes Mando, please, please, it feels so good,” you babble, your mind unable to come up with a coherent thought; instead, you’re reduced to a blubbering mess. Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, they begin streaming down your face.

“Be a good girl and come all over my cock,” he grits out between thrusts.

The grass is tickling your face, he pushes you deeper in the ground with every plunge, and then your orgasm rips through you, waves of white-hot pleasure crashing over you, electrifying your body from the inside out. Clawing at the ground and grabbing fistfuls of dirt, your body tenses and untenses at the same time, you can barely breathe. His hand is still pressing into your neck, making you dizzy from the limited air you can actually take in, as well as your climax punching out of you.

“Yes, fuck—ah shit—stars, you feel so fucking good.”

Mando doesn’t like to talk very much, only speaking when directly addressed, but now he’s a mess. He praises you, repeating words of admiration like it’s a prayer he tells himself at night and knowing you’re the reason for all this chatter just fills you up with pride.

He has incredible stamina, so he doesn’t need to pause in order to catch his breath very often. Mando continues to drill into you with such speed and force, you don’t know how much more you can take. It’s so much better than you thought it could be, you never could have predicted Mando to be so good at fucking you. He knows exactly how to treat your body, how to get the most pleasure out of you, it’s like he already knows you better than you know yourself. His cock rams that spot deep inside you that’s never been touched, nearly blinding you and causing your mind to go blank. You curse the Maker for making you wait this long. Both of you needed this, to take your frustrations and desires out on each other.

It’s primal, the way he thrusts inside you, feeling his cock pulse and twitch as your walls squeeze around him. Mando can barely shut up, if he’s not growling admirations in your ear, he’s keening into the helmet, his baritone hitting so low and rough, it only spurs you on.

The hand on your neck slacks, and then he’s pulling the glove out of your mouth. “Where d-do I—”

“Inside,” you manage to mewl, although your voice is barely above a whisper. “Please.”

“Ah—shit, you want me inside you? Fill your pretty little cunt with my come?”

You make a pathetic noise in your throat, the dryness of it too much for you to actually speak.

“Words, pretty girl. I need you to use your—fuck—words.”

You swallow hard, trying to get some dampness in your throat. “Y-yes.”

Mando growls contently and resumes his ruthless, hard pace. It’s no longer rushed, but with every thrust, he slams into your pussy so hard and hitting your cervix that your body jerks upwards, struggling to keep still. He grinds his hips a couple more times and then he reaches his own climax. You feel his cock throb inside you, filling you up with his seed.

“Fuck!” He snarls into the helmet, keeping it pressed against the side of your head.

You’re completely spent, you can barely move a muscle. Mando’s just fucked the life out of you, and you could lie here for the rest of your life, happy and satisfied. When you feel him start to pull out, with the little strength you gave—which is by no means a lot, you clench your walls around him, trying to keep him inside you.

“Don’t want me to leave?” He jokes.

“Want you inside all the time,” you mumble into the ground.

Mando hums, sheathing himself inside you once again.

“Pretty girl, I’m just getting started with you.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian smut #one-shot #pedrostories #fics

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

I love your babysitting jules fic and the tell me how you know your boyfriend won't cheat on you fic. I was thinking, like remus and sirius have a day off and spend it with jules, and sirius goes somewhere and comes back to find remus and jules sleeping on the flour and they look similar and he just smiles.

Idk, hope this makes sense, I love all your fics.

It totally makes sense and it’s super cute! Thanks for such a wonderful suggestion <3 This is Part 4 of Adventures in Babysitting (1 2 3)

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

As much as Sirius loved hockey, he had to admit break days were his favorite part of the week. Most weekends, he and Remus would roll out of bed sometime around eleven, have lunch, go for a walk, and then turn into total couch potatoes if they didn’t have anything important to do.

But they had a kid now, so that plan had to change.

They managed to stay in bed until nine before soft rustling sounds began in Jules’ room—Remus’ aggressive cuddling delayed them for a bit longer, which Sirius did not have any complaints about, but eventually they knew it was time to move.

“Dinner’s at six, right?” Sirius asked as he washed his face while Remus tracked down a t-shirt. Shirtless mornings were another tragic sacrifice while Jules was around.

“Yep. Dumo said we could get there at five-thirty, though. Apparently, Katie’s been dying to see Jules again.” Remus kissed the back of his shoulder as he reached for a toothbrush. “I was thinking we could just let him choose what we do today.”

“Makes it a lot easier on us.”

“And it makes it extra special for him,” Remus mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste. “We still get veto power, though.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Jules was still in his bedroom when they went downstairs and for a fleeting moment, Sirius wondered if they had woken up early for nothing. “He’ll be down soon,” Remus said as if he could read his mind, pressing two coffee cups into Sirius’ hands. “All those cool knickknacks in the guest room will keep him distracted for a bit.”

Sure enough, excited footsteps followed a sharp gasp less than ten minutes later. Remus smiled over the rim of his coffee cup and walked over to the pantry to pull out the pancake mix. “Morning—"

“Is it true you won the regional All-Stars when you were in high school?” Jules blurted as he skidded into the kitchen and shoved a small trophy into Sirius’ hands, panting like he had run a mile.

Sirius squinted down at the little figurine; in all honesty, he had forgotten he even had it. “Where did you find this?”

“In the nightstand. Is it true?”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” He set it on the counter with their other random items. “Thanks for finding it, bud.”

Jules glowed under his approval and Remus bit his lip to stifle laughter. “Re, can we have chocolate pancakes?”

“We don’t have any chocolate chips, sorry,” Remus said as he mixed the batter. Liar. Sirius shot him a look, and he stuck out his tongue playfully behind Jules’ back. “We’ve got some fun news, though.”

“What?”

“There’s no practice today and you get to decide what we do.”

Jules’ jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Awesome! Mom and Dad never want to see the cool stuff because they’re busy with museums and games and friends but there are so many places I wanna go,” Jules said in one rushing breath. Sirius blinked in shock, but Remus seemed unfazed as he handed the spatula over. “Thanks!”

“Sure thing.”

“Sirius, what are your favorite places?” Jules turned to him, still licking the spatula like his life depended on it.

Sirius took a moment to think and suppress a smile. “I like the roller rink, and the aquarium, and the park.”

“We already went to the park.”

“We can go again if you want,” he laughed. “You made friends, right?”

“Yeah, but I probably won’t see them again.” Oh, to have a child’s nonchalance when it comes to friends. “The aquarium sounds really neat!”

“It’s pretty cool,” Remus agreed as he ladled out batter into the pan. “They put in a new exhibit recently.”

“Sweet! Can we go now?”

“Don’t you want pancakes?” Sirius asked. “I know I do.”

Jules nodded rapidly. “I do, too. Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“Now?”

“At the aquarium.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How tall are you?”

Sirius paused, then gave him a conspiratorial look. “Eleven feet tall.”

Remus burst out laughing and nearly burned himself on the pan; Jules rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’m ten, that doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sirius took a sip of coffee. “I’m 191 centimeters tall.”

“Huh?”

“Almost two meters.”

Jules looked over to Remus, who shook his head with a smile. “He’s six foot three, Jules, and he’s messing with you by being fancy and Canadian.”

“How tall are you?” Jules asked, folding his knees under himself to reach the butter with his fork as Remus passed him a plate of pancakes.

Remus sighed. “Five foot eleven and a half.”

“Ha! Short.”

“Shut up, you’re still an Oompa Loompa.”

“I’m more than a foot taller than Oompa Loopmas,” Jules said haughtily, shoveling pancake into his mouth. “I looked it up the last time you called me that.”

“Look at you go! Gold star!”

Sirius cheeks were starting to hurt from holding down his laughter and Remus winked as he passed another plate over. “Thanks, love.”

“Why do couples have nicknames?” Jules asked. “I always thought it was a little weird. Mom and Dad have actual names, but they never really use them. It’s always honey, darling, other sappy stuff.”

Remus shrugged as he sat down with them. “Why do you call me Re? That’s not my full name.”

Jules thought for a second. “Partly because ‘Remus’ sounds like a stuffy old museum name.”

“Oh, and ‘Julian’ doesn’t?” Remus teased. “Usually, people give nicknames because they care about each other. Couples just have an extra level to that.”

“I don’t really like it when people call me by my full name, either,” Sirius added.

Jules frowned. “But people call you by your first name all the time.”

“They do. But my friends usually don’t. There’s Cap, Padfoot, whatever your brother comes up with that day…”

“I call you Sirius.”

“I don’t mind as much when you say it.” Because you’re adorable and I would literally do anything for you. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Jules seemed satisfied by that answer and turned back to his pancakes; Sirius caught Remus quickly looking away when he glanced back up and smiled, giving him a quick nudge with his foot. Baby, Remus mouthed with a slight smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

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

The aquarium was busy, but it was a weekend, after all. They only had to wait in line for ten minutes; during that time, Jules made three new friends and every single one of the parents thought he was their son. Even the ticket salesman offered them a family discount that Remus politely declined.

But…it wasn’t a bad thought. Sirius let it ruminate in the back of his mind as he helped Jules onto his shoulders and Remus grabbed a map from the kiosk for when they inevitably got turned around. Definitely not this year, or the next, but someday Sirius did want to say ‘yes’ to the parents and kids discount, though he couldn’t place his finger on why.

And then they reached the whale exhibit. A huge humpback skeleton hung from the ceiling in a smooth curve, its mouth open to reveal perfectly preserved baleen. Jules reached up and trailed his fingers through the space below its massive ribcage—he was too short to touch it still, but the pure awe on his face took Sirius’ breath away more than any deep-sea creature could.

“Baby, can you get a picture of us by the glass?” Remus asked. Ahead of them, a huge tank stretched into a tunnel that lead to the tropical exhibit; Sirius nodded and bent to let Jules down.

“Race you there!” he called, running across the well-worn blue carpet at full tilt. Remus followed him with a laugh and caught him just before they reached the glass, swinging him off his feet by the armpits and turning to face Sirius.

His throat tightened a bit as he took his phone out for the picture. They beamed at him with almost-identical smiles, right down to the dimples. That. That right there, he thought. That’s what I want. “Got it.”

“Awesome, your turn.” Remus put Jules down and began walking over, but an older man motioned to Sirius just before he put his phone away.

“Excuse me, would you like me to get a picture of all three of you?” he asked. A little girl—his granddaughter, perhaps—watched them shyly from behind his legs.

“Oh. Yes, thank you.” Sirius handed him his cell phone and went over to the glass, wrapping one arm around Remus’ waist and draping the other over Jules’ shoulder. They smiled, backlit with blues and greens and aquamarine.

“Alright, I took a few.” The man gave Sirius’ phone back and patted him on the arm as the little girl tugged his sleeve. “You have a beautiful family. Have a good day!”

Sirius didn’t fully snap out of his daze until they were in the tropical tunnel, where fish in colors he could never dream of darted back and forth and fascinated Jules. The aquarium used to be his favorite place in Gryffindor; now, it was probably his favorite place in the world.

Remus led them through a series of corridors, pausing every now and then when Jules scampered toward the next tank, though he seemed to have something on his mind. When Sirius shot him a questioning look, he kissed his cheek and held his hand instead of answering. They wandered past the sting rays, the turtles, and the sharks, until Sirius recognized the multicolored lights from the next room over and stopped in his tracks. “No.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah.”

Jules looked between them in clear confusion. “What?”

“I gotta show you something, c’mere.” Sirius crouched down and helped him back onto his shoulders, then ducked into the adjacent exhibit. Immediately, he heard Jules gasp as jellyfish surrounded them.

“Woah.”

“Isn’t it cool?” His smile was staring to hurt his cheeks. “Here, this in my favorite part.”

Sirius walked to the twelve-foot arch near the middle of the room and stood beneath it, basking in the warmth of the bright lights below as jellyfish of a billion sizes floated overhead. He sighed and leaned his head back slightly to get a better look.

Jules stretched his arms up, trying to touch the glass. “Wow,” he breathed.

When Sirius looked back down, he saw Remus lowering his phone with a small smile. “Had to get a good one,” he said as he stepped under the arch with them and leaned into Sirius’ side. Jules reached down and flipped his baseball cap backwards. “Thanks, buddy.”

“I’ve been waiting to do that for ages.”

“Good to know,” Remus laughed. “Ready to move on?”

“Just a second,” Sirius said, pulling Remus’ arm around his waist. “Just a bit longer. We’ve got nowhere to be but here.”

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

They did, in fact, have somewhere to be, though Sirius didn’t remember that until 3:30 pm. He also remembered that they were supposed to bring dessert that night and unless Remus wanted to out himself as a liar by busting out the chocolate chips in the cupboard, they needed a plan B.

The grocery store was blessedly empty when he arrived, which meant he could use self-checkout for the two containers of cookies he bought—thank god. As much fun as the aquarium was, there were so many people, and they were everywhere.

I need a nap, he thought as he walked back out to the car and watched his breath steam in the December air. And, like, half an hour by myself to listen to music.

The first thing he noticed was that the house was quiet. Hattie didn’t bark when he got out of the car, or when he unlocked the front door, or called out a hesitant “hello?” while he took his shoes off. Nothing seemed amiss, other than the fact that Jules had been bouncing off the walls when he left.

The living room held the answers to all his questions. Hattie was passed out on the couch, splayed with her belly to the ceiling. Jules and Remus were asleep on the carpet with The Fellowship of the Ring between them; clearly, they had been mid-chapter when they dozed off. Sirius set the cookies on the counter and carefully slid the book out of Remus’ hands, setting it on the coffee table before pulling the thick knitted blanket off the couch.

Hattie grumbled at him and cracked an eye open. “Shhh,” he said softly, kissing her forehead before laying the blanket over the other two. They looked so alike—their hair was nearly the same shade, and Jules’ jaw was only slightly narrower than Remus’. Sirius bet that in ten years, it would be hard to tell them apart in photos.

He crept upstairs and set a timer for 4:30. James had recommended a new band ten minutes before midnight, and Sirius figured he should at least give it a shot if it was so important. He grabbed his headphones, pressed play, and let out a deep breath as he sank back into the pillows.

Half an hour went by too fast, and before he knew it the alarm was ringing instead of the steady bass of the new song. He squinted at the clock, praying it would be wrong, and sighed when he saw that technology had won out once again.

Remus and Jules were still asleep on the floor, though they had cuddled closer at some point and the blanket nearly covered Jules entirely. Sirius crouched down next to Remus and brushed his hair off his forehead before gently shaking his shoulder. “Re. Sweetheart, it’s time to get up.”

“No,” Remus murmured.

“Come on, mon loup, dinner’s in an hour.”

“ ‘m tired. C’mere.”

“I would love to, but we promised Dumo we’d be there.”

“Sirius?” Jules blinked up at him sleepily.

“Hey, buddy.”

“We hafta get up?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Remus said without opening his eyes.

“Love you, too,” Sirius laughed quietly. “I got cookies.”

“Cookies?” Jules sat up fully at that and rubbed his eyes; Remus groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Technically, they’re for after dinner, but an exception can be made.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, then sighed and held his hands up as Jules hurried into the kitchen. “Alright, fine.”

Sirius pulled him to his feet and kissed his forehead. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we need to head out, okay?”

“So we could’ve napped for thirty more.”

“You could, but then you’d both be cranky.” Sirius leaned back to look into the kitchen. “Just one, Jules! Save some for Katie and the others!”

There was a beat of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and leaned his forehead against his chest, nuzzling into his sweatshirt. “You’re so soft. And warm.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Perfect place to take a nap.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Sirius carefully detached Remus’ grip and he exhaled slowly.

“Thank you for picking up cookies, baby. Was there anything else we needed to bring?”

“Just ourselves.” He placed another kiss to his cheek and Remus stretched his arms over his head.

“Oof. Okay. I’ll go get a different shirt on and wrangle the kid if you want to find a plate to pretend the cookies are ours.”

“You read my mind,” Sirius said, earning himself a proper kiss before Remus turned and headed into the kitchen.

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

They pulled into Dumo’s driveway at 5:40, which wasn’t bad, all things considered. Jules and Katie disappeared in a hurricane of excited rambling as soon as the door opened and Dumo burst out laughing the second he saw them. “Welcome to parenthood,” he said, pulling them each in for a hug. “How are you liking your free trial?”

“I’ve never been more exhausted in my life.” Remus shook his head as he took his coat off. “But I love it, for some reason.”

“That sums it up.” Celeste stood on her tiptoes to kiss each of Sirius’ cheeks. “Did you bring dessert?” He wordlessly held the plate out and she raised an eyebrow. “You remembered at…4 pm.”

“3:30.”

“You’re getting better, mon fils. Marc, Adele, come set the table!” Upstairs, two different sets of footsteps tumbled over each other as they came running down the stairs; both crashed into Sirius for hugs, just like they had when he first moved in.

“Bonjour,” he laughed, squeezing them tight and planting kisses to the tops of their heads. “I hope Regulus hasn’t been driving you too crazy.”

“I think he’s still asleep,” Adele said as she stepped back. Celeste shooed them both toward the dining room as Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“Un moment, s’il vous plait.” Dumo and Remus wandered off to supervise the kids while Sirius headed for the basement door. Regulus was nearly twenty years old—it wasn’t like he needed those blankets at six in the evening, anyway, and Sirius was only too happy to give him a rousing wake-up call. It was his right as an older brother.

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rocksandrobots · 3 years

Text

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 34 - Wrestlers, Boxers, and Ninjas, Oh My (Part 1)

The large indoor arena was crowded. People stood or were seated elbow to elbow. Many held homemade signs, fair food, and gaudy memorabilia that signified their support of the athletes who were to participate in today's sporting event.

Varian scooted past the spectators apologetically as he made his way to his own seat carrying a bucket of popcorn, trying his best not to spill any. Honey Lemon waved to him and rescued the popcorn bucket from his arms as he slumped into the chair next to her, relieved to not have to try and force his way through the crowd again anytime soon.

"You made it back just in time!" She chirped as she took a bite of the salty snack. "The match is about to start!"

"Yeah, first up is the Murderous Marauder vs the Venomous Vanguard!" Fred chimed in reaching over and snagging a handful of popcorn for himself.

"Wait, I never heard of them. Are they new?" Honey Lemon asked.

"Uh...no... I couldn't get tickets to a mecha-wrestling event and this is just a regular wrestling event, but it's still cool." Fred blurted out.

Honey Lemon only pouted.

"Look, it's the same thing. Just instead of mecha suits they use their own bodies to beat each other up. Who needs super awesome robot suits anyways?"

Honey Lemon raised an eyebrow. "Mole blocked you from the Mecha league didn't he."

"Yes!!!" Fred half sobbed and half yelled.

Varian rolled his eyes and then tried to move the conversation back on topic. "So what you're saying is that this is a hand to hand combat tournament."

"Yeah exactly," Fred confirmed ", along with the occasional chair."

"The what?"

Varian didn't get an answer to his question though as just then the lights dimmed and the crowd went quiet. He looked down to the center of the arena. Spotlights flooded the middle of a boxing ring and music began to blare. More lights began to swoop across the stage at the far end, all various colors, shapes, and patterns that changed in time with the music. The crowd began to stomp and clap in time to the music and Varian looked to his friends who were joining in. Honey Lemon flashed him a grin and encouraged him to do so as well.

Varain did but he couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it while he did so. He had never seen a tournament nor brawl with this much fan fair before. Oh watching a good fight was a popular pastime in Corona to be sure, but most were held outdoors; with most of the crowds gathered around standing and jeering, unless you were of nobility.

Varian himself would usually just climb to the top of a nearby tree to look on, and the only music to be had was maybe a trumpeter to single the start of the event. But then again Corona never had loudspeakers nor a state of the art LED lights display to show off.

A man smartly dressed in a business suit stepped out from behind a curtain and onto the stage. The crowd started to cheer and clap as he walked down the ramp to the ring in the center. He waved to everyone and the music died down as he spoke into a microphone.

"Welcome everyone. Are you ready tonight?." He paused as the crowd cheered back in answer. " Good. Cause, let's get ready to rumble!!!"

Everyone screamed at once. Varian just about jumped out of his skin as Honey Lemon let out a high pitched whoop right next to his ear along with the rest of spectators. The music blared back up again and the crowd went wild.

"First up tonight we have the guardian of the keep, the venger of wrongs, the noble knight of the ring, it's the Venomous Vanguard!"

Out from behind the curtain stepped a tall slender man dressed in a silver tunic and tights. He wore a knight's helmet, long boots, and a red robe trimmed with white fur on which the image of a green cobra was printed on the back. He was flanked by two pretty girls wearing matching silver bathing suits and they carried banners that held the same emblem as his robe.

The crowd cheered once more as he entered the ring and the vanguard victoriously held the sword he was carrying aloft in the air. More women rushed out to relieve him of said sword and robe and the Venomous Vanguard removed his helmet to reveal a handsome young man with blonde curls, big brown eyes, and a crooked smile that he flashed at some of the ladies in the stands. More cheers and even some whistling could be heard from the audience.

The Vanguard then took the mic from the announcer and made some grand speech about justice, and vengeance, and boastful claims about how he'd win tonight's match because of his righteous agenda and blah, blah, blah…

Varian rolled his eyes at the display of vibrato. He leaned close to Honey Lemon and whispered, "Can you believe this guy?"

"Hmm-mm" She absently hummed but seemed to barely notice Varian's presence. She sat at the edge of her seat, eyes fixed on the stage, utterly enraptured by the proceedings. Then when the Vanguard concluded his speech and raised his sword in the air once more she loudly cheered with the rest of the crowd.

Varian slumped back disheartened and a little more than jealous of the looks his crush gave the phoney knight.

"It's not even a real sword." He muttered under his breath.

He was distracted from his despondence when the music flared up once more and someone else stepped out on stage.

"Uh-oh! Here comes the Murderous Marauder!" The announcer proclaimed. "And it looks like he's out for blood tonight!"

There were some more cheers but mostly boos as the challenger made his way to the ring. Varian however studied this newcomer with interest.

He was dressed entirely in black leather, save for his massive arms which were bare. His long black hair was wild and matched his long unkempt beard. He marched up to the vanguard ignoring the jeers thrown his way and then paused for effect as the room quietened.

He was shorter than the knight but buffer and looked capable of breaking the other man in two. However, once the noise had died down, he didn't attack but instead gave a scathing taunt.

"Are you compensating for something with that big sword Sir. Hams-a-lot?"

The crowd oohed and a few booed, but Varian just laughed. He liked this newcomer and decided then and there to cheer on the challenger who promised to put the pompous paladin in his place.

Honey Lemon however was less appreciative of the Marauder's gumption. As the fight began proper she joined in with the majority of the audience in jeering the challenger.

"Boooooh! Take him down Vanguard!"

"O-oh yeah! Well…Tie him in knots Marauder!" Varian shot back.

Honey Lemon paused and looked at him in surprise and he returned the stare blankly wondering momentarily if he had done something wrong. Yet his fears were abated when she tilted her head and tried her best to unsuccessfully suppress a smile as she narrowed her eyes at him challengingly. He arched an eyebrow and his own lips slid into a smirk. Then suddenly a new competition was underway running adjacent to the one going on the ring as Varian and Honey Lemon tried to one up each other in taunts and good natured jabs as each cheered on their favored competitor.

Each flip, kick, punch, and headlock was met with jubilation and derision in equal measure as the teens watched on. Fred even joined in their game, switching sides whenever he felt like it, just happy to be there.

Varain had to admit though that he didn't fully grasp the rules of the sport. The fight was very different from any wrestling match he'd ever seen. There was far more acrobatics and punches involved then in like a grudge match in say a tavern where the combatants held on to each other tightly as they tried to push the other down and pin them to ground. Yet he didn't question this American style of combat until the Vanguard was pushed out of the ring.

Varian thought that would be the end of it but neither the referee nor the announcer called the match. Instead there was another flurry of insults and the Vanguard marched back over towards his stuff lying across a folding chair.

"Show him what that sword is really for, Vanguard!"

"Yeah! As decoration for his tombstone!"

But once again Varian was confused when the 'knight' didn't grab the plastic weapon but the chair itself. He then threw it at the Marauder while his back was turned.

The crowd cheered but Varian could barely form words as his anger overtook him. "That son- He-- Did you see that?! He cheated ! Where's the referee? Is he blind? I hope you now realize that jerk isn't a good guy.'

"Dude chill," Fred said, "it's just a prop. It's all part of the show."

"Show?"

"All of wrestling is fake." Honey Lemon gently explained. "No one really gets hurt. That's why it's fun." Then as soon as she was done with this explanation she snapped her attention right back to the fight and leaned over the railing to shout "Dig his grave!" as the Vanguard pulled the Marauder around comedically by his long hair.

It took a moment or two to process this new information and to say Varian was more than a little embarrassed for being so easily taken in by the theatrics would be an understatement. Yet his shame was forgotten as quickly as it had arrived as he watched the pretty redhead bounce up and down, face flushed with excitement, crowing with joy as her favored opponent was deemed the winner. She flashed him the biggest and smuggest grin ever and he melted. What he wouldn't do to see that smile on her face always.

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

Three more matches came and went. There was a tag team event with four lovely and scantily clad ladies, a 'spontaneous' fight backstage that spilled out into the actual ring between a team of two brothers who now wanted to go separate ways, and finally a premiere event debuting the newest wrestler to join the league.

"I want all of you to extend a big hand to El Agua!" The announcer proclaimed as a large muscular man wearing a blue and white luchador's mask walked down the ramp. He thanked the announcer and took the mic from him.

"Thank you Senor Stouffuer, and thank you WWF, for having me here tonight and giving me a second chance." His thick Spanish accent dripped with heavy remorse. "You know, I had a hard time there, a while back I got real low. I couldn't fight. I lost my sense of purpose. But now I'm back and I am ready to kick some las nalgas!"

At this triumphant proclamation the crowd cheered. Varian had to admit he was intrigued. He didn't know this guy's story but he sounded more sincere than many of the other performers. However neither Honey Lemon nor Fred seemed too impressed. In fact they looked like they were in shock.

Honey Lemon leaned over towards Varian and Fred. "Freddie... you don't think that's…" She didn't finish her sentence but instead pointed down at the ring where at, El Agua stood.

"No idea," Fred softly answered back, his eyes never leaving the wrestler as he also leaned his head towards Honey Lemon. "It certainly seems like it…"

Varain ducked his head down to where the two met to try and get in on the conversation. "Hey, why are we whispering?"

"Oh, nothing" Honey Lemon hastily dismissed, "the new guy just seemed familiar that's all."

"Yeah, he could have come over from the Mecha league or something." Fred agreed and that was the end of the discussion.

They finished watching the last match, El Agua defeated his opponent, The Sandman, and they all filed out of the arena with the rest of the crowd.

"You know, that was inspiring." Fred said as they walked out into the night air. "I know it's not real but I bet we could, like, maybe alter some of those wrestler moves into our crime fighting routine."

Fred air motioned some fake karate chops to demonstrate.

Honey Lemon stifled a giggle as she tried to be supportive. "Well, it does take a lot of athleticism and skill to pull off those moves so perhaps."

Varian snorted, "Yeah and they actually train for it."

Fred looked offended."Whatta mean!? We train all the time."

Varian rolled his eyes, "You run around and jump. You haven't the muscle to pull off those stunts where you lift and ground pound people."

Fred pouted and intensely examined his biceps. Meanwhile Varian caught Honey Lemon glaring disapprovingly at him so he hastily tried to save himself. "And I can say that cause I'm as scrawny as a twig."

Honey Lemon opened her mouth to retort but Fred stopped her.

"No, he's right HL, we could stand to work on our strength exercises."

"Well, I just meant you actually." Varian corrected but Fred didn't seem to hear him.

"Tomorrow morning we start a new training regime!" He declared, "We'll meet at the gym at five o'clock sharp!"

He marched off leaving Honey Lemon and Varian to exchange confused looks with each other.

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

"Why are we here again?" Gogo asked annoyed.

"And why are we here so early?" Hiro yawned.

The gang stood right outside of the gym as the sun began to rise, still groggy from sleep and wholly unamused by Fred's latest grand scheme.

"It has come to my attention that we are slacking in our anaerobic exercises."

"But I already weight lift.." Wasabi pointed out.

Fred ignored him. "In order to be the best crime fighters we can be, we need to explore all avenues of self improvement. Leave no stone unturned... "

"But I'm not a crime fighter." Varian interject. This too was ignored.

"...No river unforged, no ocean unnavigated.."

"Alright we get it Fred." Hiro exasperated.

"Look if you wanna "self improve" yourself go right ahead, but we're going back to bed." Gogo said.

Fred gave her the most pitiful of pleading looks, but she remained stoned faced.

"A little exercise never hurt anybody." Honey Lemon timidly encouraged trying to smooth over any arguments before they could start. "I mean, after all, we're already here."

Gogo rolled her eyes but relented anyways. She dragged herself towards the front doors with the rest of the gang reluctantly following after her save for Fred who bounded ahead like an excitable puppy dog.

"It'll be great, you'll see." He enthused.

Inside of the gym were rows upon rows of various exercising equipment, a second balcony floor with even more exercising machines, a weight lifting corner full of iron weights of different sizes and shapes, numerous side rooms with large windows that housed other activities separate from the rest of the gym, such as basketball or a yoga class, and at the very front entrance stood a counter where two people were engaged in conversion.

Hiro at least seemed to know one of these people.

"Hey Carl!" He called out and the large man with a goatee and a red bandana wrapped around his head waved back.

In fact everyone seemed to know him but Varian.

"Hi Felony Carl!" Honey Lemon reiterated Hiro's earlier greeting as they came closer to the desk.

"Why hello, if it isn't my two lovely neighbors and their esteemed colleges. What do I owe for today's good fortune." The man calmly greeted them with a smile and a gentle, measured tone that belied his gruff exterior.

"We're here to get whipped into shape!" Fred cheered.

Gogo rolled her eyes at that but addressed Carl instead of venting her frustrations for a second time. "So how about you, did you get dragged here by Globby to "improve your crime fighting technique."

Carl chuckled "Oh no, Globs leaves me out of the superheroing gig. Says he doesn't want me getting hurt. Which is fine by me, I'm not one for the limelight. However you might say I'm here for self improvement. Since my beloved partner and I have decided to reform ourselves and enter domesticated life together, I've thought it time to enter into more respectable employment. You're looking at the newest personal trainer for this fine establishment." With this he pointed to the name tag pinned to his vest.

"That's great man, good for you." Wasabi congratulated.

"Yay, I'm so happy for you. I know you've been looking for work for awhile now." Honey Lemon added.

"Way to go, Carl." Gogo gave the man a fist bump.

"Thank you. Yup, no more shady side jobs from Yama for me. I'm here early to set up for my first boxing class. There's plenty of spots left on the sign up sheet." He held up a clipboard with a list of names.

"Sorry, Carl but I don't know if that's on Fred's agenda." Hiro apologized.

"Hmm maybe not today," Fred agreed, "but I'll put boxing down on the list of self defense techniques we'll want to learn. Today however is all about building up muscle." He then struck a pose as he flexed his biceps.

Wasabi sighed, "Fine, I'll teach you some weight lifting basics. Follow me. Bye, Carl."

"Yeah see a later Felony Carl!" Fred shouted back as he followed Wasabi.

"Ok. You kids have fun." Carl said as the gang walked away, "I'm going to go finish setting up."

As they neared the weight lifting section Honey Lemon exclaimed, "Ooh a racket ball court just opened up. Lets play a game!" She grabbed Gogo by the wrist and pulled the other girl along, who made no effort to resist as she was too tired to care.

Varian paused as he watched the group split in two and wondered who he should go with. He had felt out of the loop all morning long. He wasn't a superhero like the rest of his friends, quite the opposite in fact, and so had been confused when Fred insisted he'd come along to the training session. In truth Varian wasn't thrilled by the idea of lifting heavy objects for hours on end with no end goal in sight. At least when his dad asked him to do that with the hay bails back on the farm there was an actual purpose to it.

The racket ball game sounded far more fun but he didn't know if he'd be allowed to join since Honey Lemon had asked Gogo specifically and he didn't even know how it was played nor how many people could play at once.

Not to mention, back when meeting with the gentleman named Carl, he had been utterly lost as to what everybody was talking about, and no one had bothered to explain nor even introduce him, which made Varian feel even more left out.

So he just stood there feeling every bit the fool as his friends continued to not even notice his absence as they launched straight into their activities.

Well maybe he could just find something on his own to do until time to leave. Yet as his eyes scanned the rows of unfamiliar equipment and exercising machines he couldn't even figure that part out.

Then he saw Carl through the window of one of the classrooms. The man was trying to set what looked like a tall sandbag onto a hook on the ceiling. It also looked heavy and Varian watched as he dropped the thing on the floor and had to pick up again, clearly straining with the weight of it.

"Need help?" Varian asked as he entered the room.

"Thanks.. but.. this is real.. heavy kid." He huffed as he went to place the bag on the hook again.

Varian ignored his dismissal and went to hold the lower half of the bag so that the other man could focus better on hooking the thing.

He looked surprised at Varian's instance but said nothing, only giving a grateful nod as he finished the task at hand. Once done he said, "You know you're stronger than you look, kid. Name's Felony Carl, but my friends just call me Carl."

They shook hands and Varian introduced himself.

"Varian hun, you came in with the rest of those college kids didn't ya?"

"Yeah, we all go to school together, and I've been staying with Hiro and his aunt during the meantime."

"Ah, I see." Carl walked over to grab another boxing bag and Varian rushed over to help him lift that one as well. "I'm Gogo and Honey Lemon's next door neighbor. That's how we know each other. Well that and my boyfriend, Globby, sometimes works with them. You know, protecting the city and all that jazz."

"Oh I don't do any of that superhero stuff. That's probably why I've not met him yet." Varian explained.

They hooked the second bag and Varian hurried over to pick up two more. He slung one over his shoulder and tucked another up under his arm.

"Where would you like these?" He asked, ever helpful.

Carl didn't respond at first. He just stood there and stared at the time-displaced teen in shock, and Varian was afraid for a second that he had done something wrong. However the man quickly recovered his quits and answered, "Uh, just...just place them over there, please."

"Okay." Varian obliged and dumped the two punching bags onto the floor in the opposite corner. He then quickly got to work hanging one of them before Carl could even join him.

"You...you lift weights or something?" He casually asked as they hung up the second bag.

"Oh no." Varian replied. "I don't see the appeal honestly."

"So what are ya into? Track? Football? Pilates?"

"I...I don't even know what half of those things are." Varian admitted. "There wasn't a whole lot of time for sports back in Corona, not after all the chores were done. Once you plowed a field all day you don't feel much like running around."

"Ah, so you're a farm boy. I understand. My grandmother used to have a small farm when I was kid; real peaceful up there."

They finished hanging the last of the punching bags.

"Well thank you for the help. Now all there is to do is wait to see if anybody shows up for the class." Carl said.

"You don't have anybody signed up yet?"

"Eh, one or two, if they decide to come. Its a new class. It takes time to get these things going."

"Ah" Varian acknowledged, followed by an awkward pause where he didn't know what to say or do next. He thought for a moment he might just excuse himself and just get out of the way of the man and leave him to his class but Carl interrupted this thought.

"Have ya, ever tried boxing before?"

"Well..no…. I mean I've been in a fight or two, or twelve, but I'm not very good at actually, you know, punching people." Varian half heartedly mimed of throwing a punch as he stumbled over this explanation.

"Trouble with bullies hun?" Carl knowingly replied.

"Uuuh… you might, could say that."

"Here show me your best punch. I'll tell ya how to improve it." Carl walked over to one of the punching bags and held it steady.

Varian hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should partake in an impromptu boxing lesson when he was sure the man had more important things to do, like teaching actual paying customers perhaps, but Carl was insistent.

"Ok head hit the bag as hard as you can."

So Varían did. It was just as unimpressive as he feared.

"Awe, I know you got more strength in ya than that. Go ahead really slug it. Like if you was cornered by one of those bullies."

Varian tried to recall the one time he threw an unsuspecting punch at a guard who was chasing him. He had been trying to hide in the crowd but was soon spotted. He felt the man grab him by the shirt collar and yank him back as he tried to get away. So Varian had, on instinct, blindly bopped the man right on the nose.

It hadn't really hurt the other guy, Varian was sure it surprised him more than anything, since at the time he wasn't deemed the most wanted criminal in the land yet, but nevertheless it had held off his attackers long enough to get away.

It had been terrifying, and Varian threw the memory of that feeling into his second throw. This time he had managed to push Carl, who held tightly to the other side of the punching bag, a step backwards.

"Hey, now that's more like it. Now for your technique. Your stance is pretty good, just don't plant your feet so firmly to the ground. You gotta be able to move. So on your toes. Yeah like that, and hold your fist more like this."

Varian did as he was told and threw some more practice hits. Every once in a while Carl would throw out a new instruction or bit of advice that Varian would follow up on. Soon he found a rhythm and the action came more naturally to him as he began to loosen up.

"Now ya gettin' it kid. Try side stepping to the right."

Varian did so and threw another punch.

"Good, now the left. Ok, right. Left. Right. Left. Repeat. Don't focus too much on where you're putting your foot. Keep your eyes up. In a real fight you gotta be aware of your opponent at all times."

Varian didn't answer back. He was too busy trying to both process all of this new information while also trying to implement it and keep up the steady pace he had going. But he felt himself slowing down anyways as he began to tire.

"You're doing great," Carl encouraged, "but don't forget to make your punches count. Your hits are weakening some; don't be afraid to put some muscle into it. Don't worry you won't hurt me. I'm standing behind this heavy bag, remember?"

Finally Varian paused in his exercise and half collapsed against the punching bag. He wasn't sure what Carl meant by "put some muscle into it". He was already hitting the thing as hard as he could.

"Tired?" Carl asked.

All Varian could do was nod his head as he was out of breath.

"Alright take a break and get you a drink. I brought bottled water for the class."

Varian tried to catch his breath and relax the tension in his shoulders as he procured one of the waters. However it appeared Carl wasn't done with the lesson cause no sooner had Varian took a sip the other man was already launching into another lesson on certain techniques and the basic history of his chosen sport.

Varian did his best to listen as he nursed his bottle of water. However, he was vaguely starting to question to himself what he was even doing here. He was not a fighter. Sure he'd been in a few scrapes before.. Ok more like several life or death conflicts…but he was always hopelessly outmatched physically and usually relied on his other strengths, his quick wits and inventions, to carry him through. So far they had been more than enough...so far... or maybe he'd just been lucky. It couldn't hurt to learn a little self defense.

After a while Carl ramped down his lecture and asked Varian if he was ready to try again. Varian nodded yes.

"Okay, now imagine this punching bag here is the biggest meanest bully you've ever faced. Now what do you do?"

"Run?"

"Well usually yes, but what if you can't safely get away?"

"Fight or distract until you can get away."

"Correct, and the first thing you do when preparing to fight is to defend yourself. So here are some blocking stances in case the guy comes at you."

Carl walked him through some basic poses; arms up, on your toes, keep your face shielded etc. Confident that Varian was getting the hang of these, he motioned Varian to come closer to the punching bag.

"Now remember, the biggest meanest ugliest bully you can think of."

Varian looked up at the hanging sandbag and immediately his mind's eye flashed back to his arrest, with King Frederic looming over him as the guards men slapped cuffs onto his wrists. The imposing figure towered over him, all noble and proud, full of smug self righteousness and nothing but contempt for Varian's continued existence.

"The boy needs help. Take him away and see that he is fed and kept somewhere safe." The monarch lied.

"Food" was nothing but stale bread and water, sometimes gruel if you were lucky, for months on end. "Safe" was a dark dank dungeon cell where you were ignored no matter how freezing cold the nights got. And "help"? Well "help" was merely not killing you but letting you know at every opportunity that they could take your life away if you didn't express enough gratitude for their so-called "mercy."

Oh what Varian wouldn't give to punch the dictator right in the mouth and put a crack in the man's charitable façade.

And so he did. At least in his imagination. The punching bag swung wide with the force of Varian's connecting hit and Carl quickly stepped back in surprise. Not that Varian noticed.

He was no longer in the gym or even San Fansokyo but back in his lab next to his fathers corpse facing down the royals he thought responsible for all his misery and woe. It was like a floodgate had been open and all his pent up rage, all his sadness and hopelessness from the past two years, came pouring out of him in gushing torrents and into his fists as he feverishly pounded away at the boxing bag.

It was only when the punching bag flew off its hook from shear force that Varian snapped back to reality.

He stood there shocked at the broken equipment for a moment until he became keenly aware of Carl's eyes studying him closely. Embarrassed, Varian turned to leave, probably to run home or back to the school, but Carl stopped him.

"Hey…hey …it's ok." The man soothed. "It's just an accident. All we gotta do is hang it up again."

Varian didn't answer as his eyes darted about looking desperately for something to focus on other than the instructor's pitying face.

"Wanna talk about what happened there?"

"No."

"Alright, you wanna tell me about this bully that's been bothering you? Do you need help?"

"No."

"Do you wanna learn some more self defense, or maybe even just come by and vent your frustrations on this here sack of cloth filled with sand? No judging; no prying questions; I'm just here to do my job."

Again Varian didn't answer but he did finally manage to relax enough to look the other man in the eye.

"How old are, kid?"

"Sixteen."

Carl nodded knowingly as if this explained everything. He then turned around and walked over to where he kept his supplies and pulled out a sheet of paper from his clipboard.

"This is a permission slip. You get your guardian or whoever is looking out for you to sign this and then you can come to my class regularly. I hold three boxing lessons throughout the week, you can come to as many or as little as you want, whatever works for you and you can stop whenever. Though I usually recommend coming to at least six courses if you really want to learn something."

Varian mulled over the paper Carl handed to him.

"Can... can I come again later this week?"

"Sure thing, so long as you get that form signed."

"Alright I'll get my aunt to sign it."

Just then a couple of people walked in. "Hey is this the boxing class?" One asked and Varian took this as an opportunity to excuse himself and reunite with his friends.

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

"Who's ready for my patented mumbo jumbo gumbo!?" Aunt Cass called out carrying three steaming hot bowls of soup to the table.

"I don't know what that is but it smells delicious." Varian complimented as she placed the stew before him.

She sat a second bowl in front of Hiro who let out a pitiful groan as he reached for his spoon.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked.

"We went to the gym today." Hiro moaned after taking a bite of the gumbo.

"Oh so you got a workout today, hun?" Aunt Cass asked in her chipper manner.

Hiro closed his eyes and slowly leaned his head back in an exaggerated fashion. "Everything hurts and I want to die."

"It is normal to experience soreness when exercising muscles that you rarely use." Baymax piped in helpfully. "It is recommended to stretch before every exercise routine and participate in a cool down session afterwards. To alleviate aches and pains several remedies such as ice, heat, rest, anti-inflammatory medication, and massages can be beneficial. If pain persists past 72 hours seek a physician."

"Oh I'm sure it's not that bad." Aunt Cass encouraged.

"Yeah, he's just a ninny." Varian teased.

Hiro however was only confused by the old fashioned insult. "What's a 'ninny'? Also I didn't see you out there lifting weights. Where did you run off to?"

"I was helping Carl set up for his class." Varian explained. "Oh which reminds me, Aunt Cass, can you sign a permission slip for me? I wanna take boxing lessons."

"Hold up, wait. Who's Carl and you wanna what now?" Aunt Cass responded.

"Carl is Honey Lemon and Gogo's neighbor. He works at the gym." Hiro helpfully explained.

"He also teaches a boxing class there and I wanted to join." Varian added.

"I don't know if I want you fighting." Aunt Cass said reluctantly.

"Well, you're not really fighting anybody." Varian persuaded. "He just teaches basic fighting techniques. You know, for self defense. Plus it's exercise, it gets me out of the house, and Dr. Brown did say I needed a 'healthy way' to deal with my anger issues."

"By learning to hit people?" Aunt Cass was not convinced.

"I think they use punching bags." Hiro interjected.

His input was not appreciated as evidenced by Aunt Cass's pout. Varian however had one more trick up his sleeve. He silently pleaded with Aunt Cass with his big puppy dog eyes and she caved.

"Fine, I suppose knowing some self defense can be useful. But you're not going into a ring to duke it out with anybody, understood?"

Varian eagerly complied to this agreement, took another bite of the gumbo, and then made sure to flatter Aunt Cass cooking once more as a way of thank you.

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

Friday rolled around again and Varian arrived at the gym bright and early. Thus far he had attended all of Carl's morning classes, swinging by for the lesson before heading on to school. This would be his third class and Varian had to admit he was really getting into it.

Boxing turned out to be a great way to process his feelings and frustrations without having to talk about them. He could just get lost in the motion while allowing his mind to focus on the things he usually kept bottled up or buried under mounds of work. He could vent about everything from past trauma, to an annoying equation he was having trouble figuring out, to typical teenage anxieties about fitting in and the like all without having to say a word.

Though it wasn't as if he didn't ever talk. Carl turned out to be a very good listener whenever Varian did feel like opening up about something. He still remained guarded about his past, but it was nice to have a confidant when concerning more immediate matters. Things he couldn't necessarily talk to Aunt Cass or Granville about comfortably; things like dating, or shaving, or just what it was like being an awkward teenage guy going through life.

Carl always had an answer or an anecdote about his own experiences growing up that never failed to put Varian at ease. Even when he didn't have a straight answer for something he still gave sage advice that at least sounded wise and sensible; pointing to the heart of matters that other adults would skirt around.

Most importantly Carl never pried or pressed a matter. If Varian clammed up suddenly in the middle of a conversation or blurted out a long kept secret while rambling about something, like say his crush on Honey Lemon, Carl would only give his customary nod as if he understood and then just deftly change the subject.

In short Varian always felt like he was the one in control when boxing. In control of the conversation, in control of his mind and body, and in control of his life for once. After spending two years spiraling out of control it felt nice to be back in the driver's seat, even if it was only for an hour.

As Varian neared the classroom he could see Carl speaking with two gentlemen behind the glass. Well more like arguing. The two large men dressed in business suits and wearing sunglasses circled around Carl like vultures, clearly invading his personal space while looming over him. Varian couldn't make out what they were saying but it was clear from their body language that whatever it was meant to be taken as a threat.

Carl however wasn't rising to the bait. He stood his ground and didn't respond to their advances. There was a scowl on his face marking his displeasure but other than that he remained as cool and composed as ever.

Then one of the men grabbed him by his shirt collar. Carl calmly but firmly grabbed the man's wrist and forced him to let go. He retorted something back in an even measure and then the two men stepped away.

Soon they emerged from the classroom and made their way to the exit. One spared Varian a glance as he passed by and even though he couldn't see the man's eyes from behind the sunglasses Varian still felt his blood run cold. Whoever these men were they were dangerous. That much was clear.

"What was that about?" Varian asked after the men had left.

"Oh nothing." Carl lightly dismissed. "Just some old colleagues of mine. They came by asking me about a job but I turned them down. Told them I just started this one and wasn't looking for work."

It wasn't a lie per say, but Varian could tell it wasn't the full truth either. Which only caused more concern as Carl was usually so up front about everything. But the man respected Varian's own privacy and he could do no less for him in return. It wasn't his business who Carl conversed with or why. Still the event troubled Varian.

Carl must have sensed Varian's discomfort so he broke into a smile and changed the subject. "Why don't ya help me set up? Today we're going to practice blocking and how to fall safely when knocked down. I got a lot of yoga mats that I snagged from the back room that needs to be spread out on the floor."

And with that the matter was dropped.

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

"Hey, boss." The man in the suit stood right outside the gym as he spoke into his cell phone. "We found him."

He paused as he listened to the other person on the line.

"Yeah we know what to do." He said and then ended the call.

We have a discord now

https://discord.gg/uwq9RBxN

And a ko-fi

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#big hero six #bh6 #tangled #varian #hiro #tangled the series

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 5 years

Text

Idle Hands Are the Devil’s Tools

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar X Reader

Summary: You are a bartender at LUX, growing to be one of Lucifer’s closest friends in the human realm, attraction swelling in the both of you for the other. On one closing night at the club, Lucifer decides to bet a little wager with you when Detective Decker needs your help for a case and you want to decline. Exotic dancing, lingerie, seducing a crime lord, jealousy, lust, and chaos, the devil’s specialties, soon follow.

A/N: okay so full disclosure I have not seen much, only like eight episodes into the first season but already I’m in love with a general idea of the so far storyline and characters so I hope you guys enjoy this little story because a lot of you requested it and I’m excited *maniacal, evil laughter* feedback is loved and appreciated as always! i wrote this filth in like one night so have fun with this and if yall want a continued part of just smut then fluff lemme knowwww anyway PLEASE ENJOY

Warnings: sexiness, dirty talk, alcohol, infuriating sexual tension, stripper reader, FLUFF, language, near death experience, JEALOUSY hehe, dom! Lucifer, FILTH I SWEAR, implied smut

You clean up the bar counter, wet rag covered in cleaning spray, eyes lifting and making direct contact with your boss, Lucifer. His head tilts to the side, curiously and expectantly, like he wants you to say something, as if telepathic conversation between you two should be second nature, always knowing what he’s thinking.

“You’re really not going to do it?” he asks, alluringly soft voice with that British lilt in it that so many find attractive, maybe that’s why he chose it. Sex appeal.

“Do what?” you ask, evading his gaze the second it turns serious, turning around and wiping down random bottles, aligning them on the shelves.

“You know what, darling,” he sighs, a huff a laughter. “The case Detective wants your help on.”

You stiffen at the mention of Decker’s request, when she came just a few hours before, “She doesn’t need my help... anyone can do it.”

“Well, she chose you, no one else in a one hundred mile radius has an impressive skill set in both martial arts and stripping...” his lips curl when saying the last word, you scold him, narrowing your eyes. “I also wouldn’t mind seeing the latter. I’ve only ever seen you in your uniform,” he scrunches his nose, excitable.

You look down at the sensible attire, a black tank top and dark washed jeans with holes where the knees are. You look back up at him and chew on your bottom lip, pondering that forever reoccurring question of if he’s just being his normal flirty self or if he truly sees you in another light. You only ever come up with the former as the answer. He’s all dark, black suits, raven, slicked back hair, and stormy eyes, all cut from jagged stone, onyx and obsidian. He’s untouchable.

“Stripping put me through college when my parents refused to,” you explain, point blank and to the point. “I haven’t done it since, I quit when I made enough for tuition. It paid the bills and kept the lights on, but the men there... I won’t ever forget the way their eyes made me feel...” you gulp audibly when you remember those disgusting glances, how objectifying they were.

Of course it wasn’t every patron there, some were respectful. Some even got you a good lay, and others sometimes paid an entire month’s rent, but those late night visitors, they were the ones that led you to quit.

“I don’t want to ever feel like that again,” you look at Lucifer and he knows you’re telling the truth, your glassy eyes and wavering stance.

“Y/n...” he says sincerely, reaching across the bar to thread his fingers through yours. You freeze.

“I can assure you at my club, I only let in the best people, they’re hand selected. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, they will be punished and out of the club as soon as you say the word. I wouldn’t be pushing this so much, dear, if it wasn’t so vital to the investigation and to get this crime lord and stop him from killing anyone else, you have to distract him long enough for the cops to get inside. We need you.” He needs you.

“Luci...” you whine slightly, breathing deeply when you catch his stare. “I-”

“Can you do this?” he asks, tongue dragging across the pillow of his bottom lip, twitching in the corners. “For me, beautiful?”

This is one of those moments that has you pondering the stance of your relationship. Because you can’t say no to those eyes. And he knows it.

“You’re terrible,” you sigh, giving up, squeezing his hand before letting go, slipping from his grasp. “But yes, fine, I’ll do it. Because you basically guilt tripped me into doing so.”

“You are only human,” he teases, wearing a cheeky smile when he swipes the liquor from your fingers and pours two glasses. “Don’t worry, love, you’re going to have a devil of a time...”

You take a long sip of your drink, pointing at him accusingly, “Stop it with the puns or I’m out.”

“I’ll also put a little wager on the endeavor, pet, and make it interesting,” he sits up straighter, the nickname he uses for you sending an ice cold chill down your spine. “If you make at least a grand tomorrow night, I’ll tell you what I desire.”

“I have always wondered...” you take another sip of the smooth drink, the burnt amber taste gliding down your throat with ease. “Can you really pin it down to just one thing?”

“For you I will,” he looks at you, genuine. “And if you don’t make that much, I get to ask you. I never have gotten the chance.”

“What’s stopping you from doing it until then?”

He smirks, “Nothing, I suppose. This is much more fun, though, wouldn’t you say, kitten?”

“Okay, then. Deal,” you extend your hand to him and his eyes are alight, scarlet fervor.

He grins wickedly, shaking your hand, “This’ll be such fun.”

~~~~

Maze looks you over, feline eyes slit with her bottom lip caught between her teeth in deep concentration. You two are in the back of the club, music and bass pounding in the dance room while she studies your attire, your new work uniform while aiding in the case. You’re covered head to toe in a gaping fishnet body suit, a black strapless bra laying over atop your breasts and a pair of black lace panties to match with a pair of ebony, Louboutin stiletto heels, a weapon in themselves. She places a com in your ear so you can covertly communicate with Lucifer and Decker.

You feel out of your element, but also incredibly empowered, now that it goes by your rules, what you say goes. Maze put your hair in curls, minimal makeup with a dark lip, and she’s smiling, licking her lips deliciously.

“If Lucifer hadn’t already called dibs on you, mortal, I’d have you right here myself...” she traces a finger down your torso, stopping at your panty line, crimson lips cut from ruby.

“Dibs?” you ask, confused but also intrigued. “When did he do that?”

“If you really don’t know...” she looks at you. “Then you’re an idiot.”

“Bitch,” you scoff.

She smiles, leading you to where you’ll be dancing for the night, “Sure, but at least I’m not an idiot.” That’s clueless to my boss’s affections.

You huff in annoyance before stopping at the individual pole where you will be performing for the night, the club already packed with crowds of dancing, grinding bodies, sweat and musk. Lucifer catches your eyes from across the room, he’s stunned for a moment, like he’s stuck in a moment of shock and he can’t move. You’re breathtaking.

He smiles, lifting a single eyebrow in question, calculating your next move. The crime lord Decker described to you sits on the couch adjacent to the poles and designated dancing areas, his greedy eyes already laying over you and you know you have him hooked.

You look back at Lucifer and hook your leg on the steel pole, spinning around, positioned upside down when you flash the devil a wink.

He’s taken aback by the gesture, eyes wide as saucers, chest rising and falling at the unknown twist in his gut. You slide back up, walking around the wooden square allotted for your dancing, letting the music seep into your bones, move your hips and sway your curvy body to the beat of the song, one you requested. You turn away from Lucifer and lock eyes with the crime lord, you wiggle your fingers in the smallest of waves, flirtatious when your lips move upward, all planned and perfected. The man is caught under your spell and caught completely off guard, perfect for a distraction.

Your hand graces the pole once again when you twirl around, hand running through your hair when you dance to the rhythm of the playlist, eyes closed and letting your body do the talking that your lips can’t. Already both men and women have been throwing wads of dollar bills, in the hundreds now.

Lucifer’s eyes fall over you more than once, but unlike everyone else’s, they hold adoration, admiration, he can’t look away.

“You’re doing this on purpose...” he growls into his ear com, nursing a hard scotch on ice, eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Whatever do you mean, Luci...” you swing around once more, landing in the splits when you face him, laying down fully, face in your hands. His jaw drops.

He’s never wanted someone this badly. It’s like your touching him without actually doing so, your eyes doing all the work for you.

“You look ravishing.”

You belly laugh, throwing your head back when you look at him, smug, “In the way that I look intriguing or that you want to ravish me yourself?”

He sips his drink, fire licking his irises, flickering in flames, “Both.”

“Guys, focus,” Decker scolds in the mic, interrupting the staring contest, having you continue back to dancing, looking back at the crime lord.

He waves you over, a stack of cash beside him that he pats, wanting a personal lap dance. Your skin crawls at the way his eyes trail over you, lingering in places he shouldn’t, but you know it’s for the case, so you can save people. You smile at him, forced, walking down the platform and over to him.

“He want’s a lap dance, Decker,” you whisper, the loud music enough to mask your talking. “What do I do?”

“That’s not apart of the plan, Detective,” Lucifer bites, voice dripping with venom, eyes aflame.

Decker mulls it over, “It’s... actually perfect. Do it, y/n, you’re not in any danger and-”

“She could get hurt, we didn’t plan for this,” Lucifer says, another foreign feeling in his chest where his heart should be, clutching the absence and his jaw clenches. “W-what if she’s uncomfortable?”

“She can do it, because if she does, we have more than enough time for the cops to swarm in and take this guy down, ten minutes tops.”

“I can do it, Luci,” you promise. “He’s only human, right?” you say, voice unsteady when you see the gun in his pocket, burly bodyguards on either side of him.

Lucifer’s chest clenches and he’s forced to watch you straddle the man’s lap, smiling openly at the murderer, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. This hurts more than the injuries, when the Detective shot him, this doesn’t even compare. It resonates through his whole being, he’s rooted to the ground and the fear in your eyes when you throw a look at him kills him further.

“The cops are close,” Decker tells you. “Just a little bit longer and we’ve got him.”

The man beneath you suddenly frowns, “What’s that voice? Do you have a com in? Are you a cop?” He shoots up, pushing you off, you barely catch yourself when you stand.

“Shit!” Decker curses, footsteps immediately following when she runs down the main staircase, gun aimed at the criminal’s head, a sure shot from there. “Alright, LAPD, hands up, asshole!”

The club goes into a frenzy, crowds running out the doors when they hear her yell, giving the perpetrators an easy exit. And in the heat of the moment, the crime boss grabs you, arm around your neck and restricting your airway with a gun pressed against your temple, the cool steel on your skull. Your eyes sting with tears, a damned lump forming in your throat you can’t bear swallow, and Lucifer sees you across the club.

His eyes light up, and he realizes he was wrong earlier, this pain was worse, so much worse. It takes him over and makes him vulnerable beyond repair when he runs over to you but the criminal is two steps ahead, moving with you to the exit, pressing the gun into you further.

“One more step and I’ll shoot!” he tightens his grip around your neck and an empty tear slips past, but you dare not make a noise. “Don’t test me!” He clicks off the safety and you flinch.

You mouth a soft, It’s okay, to Lucifer, watching his face fall, true sorrow in his features.

“You picked the wrong woman to hold at gunpoint,” his chest heaves, but he’s calm and collected, eerie and still like a lake at midnight, the only reflection of light being the moon. “Let her go.”

“Step back or I’ll kill her-”

Lucifer flashes his real face, scarlet and devilish, monstrous and the man drops his gun in a fit of fear and confusion, eyes wide. You knock your head back and headbutt his nose, enough so to knock him out, dropping to the ground unconscious.

You breathe heavy and the tears finally fall. A single, broken sob escapes, you cross over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, crying into his chest, staining his signature purple button down shirt. His arms, once stiff at his sides, encircle around your waist and tug you to him, no space between you both except the fabric of his clothes and lace of your ensemble. And there’s no words needed. His hands rest on the small of your back, and for once they have no intention of ever wandering.

~~~~

You step into the shower, closing the blue tinted, glass door behind you. The hot water slides down your skin, close to scalding, cleaning off the day you’ve had, especially that man’s hands, gripping your waist. Hands on your hips. You close your eyes and tilt your head up, water rushing down your face, waves lapping at skin, kissing your cheeks with warmth.

You step out of the shower after washing your hair, wrapping a towel around yourself when you walk out of the bathroom, water droplets running down your hair and face, coating the tips of your lashes and your pink lips. Lucifer, leaning over the bar and nursing a drink, turns when he hears your wet footsteps advance into the main, sitting room, dark eyes trailing over your figure.

He’s been acting off ever since the incident at LUX, driving you over to his apartment, letting you use his shower, laying out a fresh outfit for you, and offering you a guest bed to sleep in for the night. He thinks it’s his fault, all this, being held at gunpoint and almost being shot, this entire mess in the first place. Guilt is aching in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

And he’s barely talking.

“Lucifer?” you ask, meek and quiet, afraid you’ve already overstepped too many boundaries just being here. You know it’s a bad idea.

“Yes, darling?” he answers just as softly, still not quite looking at you, just staring straight ahead at his cabinet of drinks, ice clinking in his crystal glass of scotch.

“I’m sorry.”

He turns his head in your direction, close to snapping, “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I got sloppy and it almost cost us the investigation... he overheard my com-”

“You’re apologizing... because Detective spoke too loudly and he heard? You’re apologizing for almost getting killed?” he turns fully to face you, setting his scotch calmly on the bar counter.

“Don’t blame her.”

“I don’t. I blame myself for roping you in and getting you involved...” he groans, frustrated, walking slowly towards you.

You frown deeply, confused at his sudden change of heart, regret in his features, the wrinkles in his brow when he furrows it, “Even so we still got him in custody, there’s no harm done, Luci-”

“There could have been!” he yells, eyes rimmed with scarlet. “You could have died, y/n! I could have lost you and it would have been my fault...” his voice wavers, and you gulp, realizing what’s going on.

He was scared.

“Lucifer...” you whispering, cooing softly, a melodic lullaby put into his name.

You step on the tips of your toes to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb over the stubble on his cheek. He’s trapped.

He’s never experienced tenderness like this before, such love and care in one’s touch, all for him. He doesn’t deserve it, but he’s softening, melting into your palm and he’s a puddle at your feet, eyes locked with yours and he’s thrown away the key. He presses his lips to the inside of your palm, sending electricity through your veins, sparks on your fingertips that shock his skin.

“Stop.”

He pinches his brow, confused, “What?”

“Stop,” you tell him, lips kicking up in a small smile. “Stop blaming yourself, I was sloppy, I admit it, Decker was loud... but I agreed to it, that’s on me. I knew the consequences and I knew what would happen if things went sideways, but he’s behind bars, and I’m not dead. I’d call this a win.”

His jaw tightens, “He put his hands on you.”

“He did...” you agree. “But I’m a big girl,” you laugh, both hands on his face now and he lets you, leaning into your touch like a moth to a light, succumbing to its own undoing. “I handled it.” And something comes over him.

“I should handle him...” he pushes you against the wall, you inhale sharply when you hit the cool material, gripping the front of your towel.

His eyes fall over your face, “For touching what’s mine.”

You open your mouth to speak, say something, anything, but you don’t object, you can’t. It happens so fast, both your wrists in one of his hands pinned above your head, pressing you further into the wall.

And he kisses you.

Your eyes flutter close and he groans into your mouth, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, tongue soothing you when it licks your own. Like coal igniting fire, aiding its own demise. His other hand runs down your neck, ripping off the towel that covers you until you’re bare before him, dripping in more ways than one. He finally lets go of your wrists and you wrap your arms around his neck, his arms looping around your waist and it’s clashing teeth, tongue, and lips, a frenzy of hands and it’s not enough. Not enough. He drinks you in with a hunger that can never be sated, your fingers carding through his ebony hair and tugging, harsh and vindictive. He growls, the devil but still a man, and you make him painfully so.

He picks you up, hands under your thighs when your legs wrap around his torso, soaking his clothes but he doesn’t give a shit, never breaking your kiss when he carries you over to the bed, tossing you on the mattress. He looks you over, hungry and vicious, lips exploring the maps of skin before him, biting and licking all the curves, dips, and sweet spots, finding what makes you tick.

Kissing down your stomach, eyes still holding onto yours, “Tell me, my love... what do you desire?”

“Y-you,” you say, voice shaky and unsteady, gulping down the lump in your throat that makes it hard to breathe.

He smirks, malicious, crawling back up your body and he sucks on your neck, marking your skin with love bites, littered with remnants of him.

“You won the bet, didn’t you, darling?” he kisses the curve of your jaw, licking the lines of your throat, and all oxygen leaves you. “I suppose I have to tell you what I desire, then, don’t I?”

“A deal is a deal,” you smile, equally as excited as you are scared for the answer.

“You,” he scatters his lips across your chest, kissing your breasts. “To ravish you like the goddess you are... to love you wholeheartedly and truly.”

He wraps his lips around your right nipple, swirling his tongue expertly, biting and sucking. His fingers pinch the other, rolling it between his index and thumb, so damn good it’s scary.

You never thought you’d hear him say the L word, and to you, a mortal, no less. You never thought you’d love him too.

“Luci... you’re still wearing clothes,” your fingers fumble for his shirt, tugging it so hard that the buttons pop off, falling off of him. “That’s hardly fair.”

He grins wolfishly when he resurfaces, “Eager, aren’t we, kitten? If you wanted it rough, all you had to do was ask...”

#lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer fox #as requested #requested #fanfiction #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer x reader #smut #lucifer morningstar smut #reader #fic #reader fic

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tardis-sapphics · 4 years

Note

24! ☀️

thank u!

24: ‘my child’

this one is perhaps a bit long but i do love this a lot. hope you enjoy! also, would recommend this absolutely gorgeous song to accompany your reading!

The end of war is a feeling as much as it is a moment, Yaz is discovering. It is a shared feeling, something so innate to a people, it is impossible to feel on your own. When the final order is given, the last papers are signed, and the last casualty breathes their final breath, there is all at once, and slowly, a burgeoning emotion.

It grows and grows. A new dawn: first comes the birds, the heralders of the new way; then the light creeps in. It will illuminate everything, even the things best thought of in shadow. But it is inevitable, and it is graceful.

When it illuminates the worst, it does not so do out of glee. It does so as an imploring—an attempt to make new a bitterly fought moment.

They all feel it, thrumming through their veins. This call of grace, this call to begin again.

In the battlefield, the four of them had held hands. They had witnessed the passing of war, and watched a new world begin.

Their tent, adjacent to the Commander General for their now-defunct role as brokers of peace, is gradually being illuminated in the same dawn light as every tent on this battlefield. And like the others, the material is not thick enough to blot it out. It creeps, but it is sure.

Yaz watches the slow brightening, the way one follows the curious journey of a single insect, focusing on every detail she can observe. For two days, her head has been full of nothing but war: the clashes, the screams, the consequences. There is something liberating about this—the chance for small things to be given equal eight once more.

The orange of the tent is lightening, from a dull and shade to something rich, vibrant. She feels her own vibrancy in it.

To her left, Ryan and Graham snoring away in their sleeping bags. The Doctor, she can hear, is in the front section, possibly fiddling with something or other. In moments of quiet, she usually is.

And Yaz is content to let the morning stay that way, to find richness in the slow, but the morning has other plans.

Outside, on the battlefield, she hears a child crying.

They must be crying loudly for the sound to reach them inside the tent. Many tents, in fact, with the way they have been clustered together. But these are soldiers, generals—not families. This kid must be lost. Her heart pangs for them.

Five minutes later, and the child’s cries have turned into weepy calls for their father. They sound young, so young, and no one is going to help.

What is this world, this new, hopefully world, if no one will help a child?

Yaz crawls through to the front section to find her shoes—and sees the Doctor doing the same. Quick fingers tie up her boots laces, and Yaz gets to work on her own.

When she looks up, finished, the Doctor is smiling at her. Two days’ worth of mud and hard work are showing on her clothes, her coat torn at the edges. But she looks as bright as ever. ‘The others?’ she wonders, her voice still a whisper.

‘Asleep,’ Yaz confirms. She nods at the Doctor’s boots. ‘You gonna look for the kid too?’

‘Of course.’ Something flashes in her eyes: sadness, but not just. ‘This is no place for a child.’

The kid is difficult to spot amongst the sea of orange; the sides of the tents dance in the whipping wind, as do their flags, and each movement is distracting. So, too, are the sentries who patrol the thin pathways between the rows of tents; most of them are in an early-morning daze, rendered almost useless by the cessation of war. There would be a perfect haze of suspension, a potent need to wait—if it were not for the child.

‘Papo!’ the child calls. Yaz grabs the Doctor’s arm. They are much closer now.

In the midst of war’s debris, they find her. Clad in what Yaz has to assume are pyjamas, she trails a blanket in the churned up mud, turning white cotton to mucky brown. Her light blue eyes are bright with tears like little crystals, her face puffy from crying, she staggers between the tents, searching.

Sniffing, unharmed, and innocent. At the sight of her, Yaz’s heart aches.

They walk towards her slowly, aware of her eyes on them. The entire time, doleful but curious. Yaz smiles as she bends down in front of her, waving a quick hello. The Doctor grins at her, but she is busy scanning the immediate area for any disturbances.

‘Heya,’ Yaz starts. ‘I’m Yaz. And this is my—’ she clears her throat ‘—this is the Doctor. It’s lovely to meet you! What’s your name?’

The girl pouts at her, assessing her. Eventually, she answers. ‘Vay.’

‘I love your name; it’s beautiful,’ Yaz smiles, and Vay brightens, just a little. ‘You look a little lost. Are you trying to find your Papo?’

It upsets Vay, who sniffles again. ‘Moma said I could see him today but I dunno where he is.’

Yaz nods. ‘Would you like us to help you, Vay? We know some important people who can find your Papo for you. Only, it’s very early in the morning and no one else is awake yet. D’you want to come with us?’

Vay takes a moment to consider this, but eventually she does accept, reaching for Yaz’s hand. Yaz breathes a sigh of relief.

Vay warms to the two of them quickly. She likes the way the Doctor talks, quick and fast and silly. She appreciates Yaz picking her up and keeping her close. Yaz is warm and kind and always asks if Vay is okay with what they’re doing.

They try their hardest to make Vay feel safe, on this battlefield with countless lives lost around them.

Back at the tent, Yaz introduces their new companion to Graham and Ryan, who are barely awake. Ryan is still groggy and moody, but Graham pushes away his exhaustion to play granddad.

The Doctor pulls Yaz to one side. ‘I’ve scanned her,’ she informs her quietly. ‘She’s not using a cloaking device, or a perception filter, and she’s not a different species.’

‘So she’s a child,’ Yaz says, a brow arched.

‘She’s a child. But you never know, Yaz! Some aliens are wily like that,’ the Doctor protests. ‘Anyway, her father will definitely be in one of these tents. That’s why she’s here, or at least why she’s been close, because according to the Renshaw Law these lot passed two centuries ago, children aren’t allowed anywhere near a battlefield.’

‘Which means she’s walked a long way,’ Yaz surmises.

The Doctor nods. ‘From the timeframe we’re working on, her mum was given clearance as soon as the war ended, last night. That means they’re family to a high-ranking official; they’re always the first to see loved ones.’

She looks as if she is about to say something else. There is a curious light in her eyes.

Yaz dismisses what she was about to say, and asks, ‘What?’ instead.

The Doctor simply smiles. ‘Just—you’re amazing, Yasmin Khan. You’re bringing a family back together. I’m very proud.’

Yaz flushes.

Even though the five of them can hear the squadrons around them waking up, the four adults know that no one will be ready yet. This is peacetime, and everything here is loose. The light may be here but the morning isn’t ready yet, so they stay, and wait for the first calls of action.

It helps, too, that Vay is a little charmer. Now fully awake, Ryan has been won over in an instant—but she is staying by Yaz’s side, so he volunteers to wash Vay’s blanket and win over her affection that way. Whilst Vay waits for her blanket to return, she allows herself to be entertained by Yaz’s tickles and silly faces. The Doctor supplies her with a few custard creams from her coat pocket—‘For breakfast!’ she grins—and Vay takes an immediate liking to them.

In a free moment, when Vay has launched herself, yet again, at Graham, Yaz notices the Doctor watching her. She doesn’t feel embarrassed, just settled. She smiles back.

Ryan returns half an hour later with a sopping wet blanket, but it is clean and Vay is delighted. Light is everywhere now, indistinguishable from the world, and the morning is warming up. So, it seems, is everyone else: pots are cooking hearty breakfasts, strips of meat and boiled grains. As they leave the tent, the smell of food hits Yaz square in the stomach, and it growls impatiently.

In her arms, Vay wriggles around to poke Yaz’s belly. Crystal-blue eyes narrow and she grins a growl in response.

Yaz laughs. ‘Perfect!’

The Commander General’s tent is far larger than theirs, and already busy with personnel. Any snippets of conversation that reach Yaz’s ears tell her they are co-ordinating the extracting programme. They are going home.

The five of them are not noticed by anyone, until the Commander General himself bustles through his throng of people. He is busy asking an adviser questions when he alights on Vay—and freezes.

Vay immediately perks up. ‘Papo!’ she crows delightedly. Yaz lets her to the ground, and she runs, wet blanket in hand.

She is in his arms in an instant. He scoops her up and swings her about, beaming. This commander, always hard and unfeeling the previous week, is sobbing as he reunites with his daughter.

There are tears in his eyes. Yaz’s heart squeezes at the sight. This man could have died today—but the war is over, and here he is.

She feels a hand take hers, and looks to her side to see the Doctor beaming at her.

‘Where did you find her?’ he demands. ‘My little miracle.’ Vay giggles, recognising the phrase.

‘We found her wandering the field,’ the Doctor starts. ‘Early dawn, by herself. Very brave.’

‘She was calling for her Papo,’ Yaz adds. ‘We kept her safe until we could find her dad.’

‘S’pose that turned out to be you,’ Graham says.

‘Yes. Yes, that’s me. Thank you,’ the Commander General breathes. ‘I cannot thank you enough. My child, my child.’ He kisses the top of her head. ‘My child.’

Leaving Vay is harder than Yaz expected it to be. But Vay is curious and silly and she is safe, at last, on this battlefield, with her Papo.

Vay doesn’t want them to leave, either. But when she understands they must, she gives Yaz her blanket.

Yaz leaves with tears in her eyes. Happy.

They don’t wait around. As the day beckons, so does the TARDIS; so does the rest of their lives. They are glad, at least, to be leaving on a successful note.

It could have been much, much worse.

Before closing the doors to the TARDIS, she takes one last look at the field. So much violence, and bloodshed, and loss—but hope now, too. A new world is waking up, a good world, where a child will find their father. And she is grateful for it.

Round the TARDIS console, Ryan teases his granddad about Vay defeating him in a tickle fight. The Doctor is typing up a destination onto the screen: Sheffield, Earth, 2020.

Silently, Yaz walks up to her. In one hand, she has bundled Vay’s blanket, cold in her palm. With the other, she reaches out for the Doctor.

The Doctor looks up and smiles. And links their fingers together.

send me numbers!

#thasmin #thasmin fanfiction #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #team tardis #kp answers #thasmin prompts

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itzagothamcitysiren · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Family

so I wanted to update yesterday but I got too caught up finishing writing this installment and planning out the next couple of ones after this lol.

Quick thank you to everyone for the hearts and comments and support!!! It makes me smile when I get the notifications :)

Also side note, the new Lady Gaga album is 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

You’re Taking Up a Fraction of My Mind pt.3

Jason was exhausted by the time Bruce decided he was done training. His muscles hurt and his brain felt frazzled; Bruce had given him a decent beat down. The older man made Jason aware of how distracted he’d been during training, the bruise forming on his lower bicep from a kick Jason should’ve seen coming and dodged but didn’t. The boy wonder played it off as him just being tired from the night before. Bruce was Bruce, he knew Jason was only telling half the truth but didn’t press the matter further.

“You’ve been improving, I want you to keep it up.” Bruce said, before adding. “But make sure you’re head’s straight for tonight. I don’t want you slipping again.”

Make sure your head’s straight for tonight.” Bruce told him strictly, “You’ve been improving, I want to see the good work keeping up.”

Bruce sent him off for a shower and dinner as the sun had already set and their night was soon beginning. Jason scratched his head as he made his way out of the library. Did Bruce just compliment him then insult him? His eyes trailed to his corner when he walked through the secret door and paused. He wanted to go back to this morning, when his body and ego didn’t hurt so much. This morning had been so simple, domestic even; it was the complete opposite of what Jason Todd was and he wasn’t complaining.

He didn’t mind sharing his secret stash and spot to Halley, which was something he wouldn’t do for anyone else. The way she had her head resting in the crook of his neck, laid up against him, he felt a tingly sensation shot through his body as he thought back to it.

As he walked through the halls to get to the main stairwell he heard voices coming from the main entry way, pulling a face when the voice was clear as day. What the hell was Grayson doing here?

“I do wish you would’ve called Master Dick, I would’ve made up your room for you.” Alfred’s chastising voice was heard before Jason completely saw them.

“Sorry Al, I should’ve of called.” Dick laughed, guiltily rubbing the back of his neck. “It was kind of a last minute thing, you know? I almost couldn’t get the flight I wanted, I had to name drop Bruce to pull some strings.” He laughed again.

Jason scoffed at his predecessor. Whenever Jason gave Alfred a nickname, he was scolded but Dick had just gave him one and he didn’t say anything. Jason looked at them, debating on going back to hide in his corner of the library for a while until he could get to his room unnoticed. They blocked the path to the stairs and he wasn’t in the mood for Grayson now.

“Well you’re here now.” Alfred said. “Go bring your bags up to your room, dinner will be ready shortly. I’m afraid it’s nothing special, I’ve been otherwise occupied.”

Dick had a look of knowing, remembering the message Alfred had left him a few days again. The annual Wayne Enterprises Charity Gala was coming up and the butler was not letting Dick get out of it this year. He was able to get out of it last year, being away on Titan duty. It wasn’t that he totally hated galas, he just preferred to not have to go. The stuffy suit, having to socialize with the snooty elites of Gotham, all he could say was at least the food was always worth it.

Dick was about to talk but his attention was brought elsewhere, hearing the floor creak. He looked up into the adjacent hall, seeing Jason standing there, almost like a dear caught in headlights. He appeared to be trying to back away, causing Dick to look at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Jason,” he greeted almost sternly, the name leaving his lips more harshly than intended.

It was Jason’s turn to cock an eyebrow. What did he do now? Why was he being glared down by Dick fuckin’ Grayson? He fixed a smirk on his face, now looking like his normal ‘cool’ self, he greeted him right back, almost sneering as he spoke, “Dick,”

Dick narrowed his eyes even more, knowing the joke all too well; with a name like his, the joke had long gone stale but the fact that a kid was disrespectful enough to make it, almost set him off. Alfred cleared his throat, breaking the coming fight off before it could start.

“Master Todd,” Alfred only used last names when he disapproved. “Why don’t you go collect Miss Halley and let her know dinner is almost done. She should still be in her room.” Alfred didn’t as much as sound like he was asking, more of telling.

“I got it Al,” Dick said quickly after the butler finished. He took in Jason’s sweaty appearance, and noted how he come from the direction of the entrance to the Batcave. It was also a Saturday afternoon and he knew Bruce hadn’t changed since he left. Almost cockily he nodded at the younger boy, “Rough session with Bruce?”

“No,” Jason spat, crossing his arms against his chest. He was sick of everyone treating him like this; he didn’t even do anything this time. “Quite the opposite actually,” it was a lie, but who the hell did Dick think he was?

He began his decent up the stairs, his ears perking when he heard Alfred scold Dick, calling him by his last name and saying how that was uncalled for. Jason smirked, knowing that at the end of the day Alfred did care and have his back. He made his way to his room, hearing Dick following a few steps behind him. He reached his door, almost tempted to knock on Halley’s before Dick could but didn’t want to test the older boy, at least in front of Halley.

Dick waited until Jason was inside his room before knocking on the girl’s door. He waited when he heard her calling out that she was coming. He eyed the doorknob when he heard a click, wondering why she had her door locked. When the door opened he smiled at her, wanting to shout out surprise but decided against doing that.

She looked up at him a smile on her own face, almost looking eager, but when she realized it was him her face morphed into a different one. She looked taken aback, and almost disappointed? Dick dropped his smile, himself disappointed as she stared up at him for a few seconds silently. He let out a lame hey, his heart beating a million times a minute as she just nodded at him.

“Hey,” She said back, scanning his face and wondering why he was here. She shook her head, realizing she was being rude. She brought back her smile, only Dick noting that it wasn’t has big as it was when she first opened the door. She fully swung the door open, “Sorry, I just thought you’d be Jason. What are you doing here?”

Dick followed her into the room, frowning as she spoke. She was expecting Jason, Kori’s words now ringing in the back of his head. He cleared his throat, leaving his bags in the hallway and walked into the room. “I was concerned. You didn’t answer my messages. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Realization struck her face, looking to her nightstand and the phone that had still been left untouched from this morning. She didn’t think before speaking, finding herself doing that a lot more lately than she cared to admit, “I’m sorry, I forgot to respond when I came back into my room later. I saw it this morning when I woke up and was going to but Jason took my phone before I could-, I’m sorry.”

“You were with Jason this morning?” Dick eyed her, his eye almost twitching. A pang reached his chest as he looked out into the hall from the open door. He saw Jason’s closed door and swore he felt a blood vessel pop before turning back to Halley.

“Um, yeah.” She said quietly, now noticing what she did. Fuck, she cursed, wanting to slap herself in the face and push Dick out of her room. When did she become such a girl, she questioned herself. She’s a well-trained assassin; she’s killed people and she’s done terrible things but here she was fumbling over her own worlds and blushing for the hundredth time in days over the stupidest things.

“I was upset last night, he was making sure I was okay,” She said faltering, trying to make it sound anyway but the way she knew Dick would and was assuming.

She knew how his mind worked, remembering back when they’d been on a mission together with the Titans and he’d gotten strangely protective and overbearing when they teamed up with Aquaman’s sidekick, Aqualad. Garth had been a flirt but it went right over the girl’s head, never having interacting with someone that way until Dick started pointing it out and sending eye daggers to the Atlantean.

Dick frowned, letting his eyes trail around her room, not being here in a while; it’d been too long now that he thought about it. He hadn’t been a really good ‘whatever he was to her’ recently, having left after a week or two after she originally returned. He’d come to visit a couple of times afterwards but never stood for long. He’d just left her here and passed on his responsibility of her to Bruce. It was just too hard for him to stay at the manor for that long. He worked so hard to escape Bruce’s shadow and being back was a constant remember as to why he left. But maybe it was time to move back to Gotham, he pondered.

“How are you?” He asked, noting the pile of clothes at the foot of her bed, which was still left unmade. The room wasn’t a total wreck but he couldn’t help but noticed how it wasn’t up to Alfred’s standards. He chuckled, knowing that he probably hasn’t seen the room in this state yet, because injury or not, Alfred would not let this fly. He moved to start making her bed, not wanting her to overdo it.

“You don’t have to do that,” she hurried over to swat his hands away, moving to start pulling the sheets up herself. He swatted her away, giving her a cheeky smile and telling her to start working on putting her clothes away. She didn’t fight him and moved away from the bed.

“You didn’t answer my question,” He said, looking up from his work.

“I’m fine.” She shrugged, reaching down to grab the t-shirts to start folding them.

He could tell she wasn’t being honest as she bit the inside of her cheek. He knew it was a nervous habit of hers and constantly reprimanded her to stop doing it. Do you really want to get sores in your mouth, he’d scold her. He also knew she wasn’t being honest with him because she refused to fully look him in the eyes. He let out a large sigh, fluffy out her pillows after finishing pulling up the sheets and comforter up.

“Gotham’s tough,” He started, laying the pillows up against the headboard. “It’s not like back in Jump City where we run around chasing boozo’s like Doctor Light or Mad Mod. Sure, we get the occasional guy like Brother Blood, but it’s not like anything here. I shouldn’t have just thrown you out here alone.” Dick frowned, his tone apologetic and laced with guilt.

Halley unclenched her jaw, busying herself with putting the folded shirts into her dresser. She shrugged her shoulders, brushing him off. She didn’t want to keep dwelling on last night. Whenever she dwelled on things she’d find herself spiraling soon after until she couldn’t deal with it and run. And it wasn’t like last time where she could go back to the tower and leave the manor. Granted, she technically could, the Titan’s made it pretty clear she’d always be welcomed but this time around she found herself not wanting leave the manor.

“It’s okay to be upset, Halley,” Dick pressed, determined to get his point across not understanding that he was only making her clamp up even more.

“I just don’t want to talk to you about it.” She said, her short temper simmering slowly. She bit her lip as she saw her words had genially upset Dick. The man she knew to never shut up was rendered speechless and she couldn’t help but feel bad. She tried retracting her statement and apologize but he raised his hand at her to stop.

“It’s okay,” He said softly. He crossed his arms across his broad chest. It was his turn to bit his lip before speaking, his voice calm but sounding regretful. “We used to be really close. You used to tell me everything and now you’re not.” He began now taking a seat on the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh.

“You call Kori instead of me. You’re going to parties now, going out with friends and-,” he wanted to bring up Jason but stopped himself. “I just don’t know anything about what’s going on in your life anymore.” He paused, knowing he wanted to bring up one of their parting conversations when she returned to Gotham, him blaming it partially on why she’d been so distant from him recently. “Ever since I told you about your brother and what happen with Slade, things have been different between us.”

Halley winced after he brought it up, having tried pushing the conversation far into the back of her mind. After her father brought up having a family that he kept from her, he’d also mentioned how Dick and the Titan’s knew as well and never told her. She’d been hurt that she’d been lied to by not only her father but Dick. She wasn’t surprised her father lied, but Dick, she understood why he did but Dick was supposed to never lie to her, she’d put all her trust in him. She had forgiven him though, after he finally sat her down in her room in Titans Tower and told her everything.

She vaguely remembers the time when her father left her in the care of his associate, Wintergreen, as he went off to do a job without her. It was around the time when he first started taking her on jobs, but this one he deemed her to underqualified for, her later figuring out why. Deathstroke had been hired to kill Donna Troy, who had been Wonder Girl, until her father did the job.

Dick told her that it was still one of his biggest regrets and if he could he would take it back. He’d yet found out about he but he told her that he figured out Deathstroke had another kid, had a family. It made sense now that she thought back. He’d leave her with Wintergreen every now and then, sometimes for a few days, sometimes for weeks and now she knew why; he’d go back and play house with his wife and son while she’d been forced to train and have her childhood taken away from her.

Dick had inserted himself in her older brother Jericho’s life, formed a friendship with him. It was all fake of course, Dick was just using him to get information on Deathstroke. The friendship was one-sided at first, Dick said but then said he started to actually grow fond of the boy and began to back off, realizing just how wrong what he was doing was. But he said Jericho was persistent, not okay with Dick cutting him off suddenly. Dick said he was going to come clean and explain everything to her brother but her father had caught onto what Dick was doing and followed them as they met one day. Too no surprise, her father tried killing Dick but Jericho, who had no idea about his father’s life, stepped in the way; the bullet intended for Dick met Jericho and that’s how her father’s hatred for Dick Grayson and the Titan’s began.

That hadn’t been the reason why Halley hadn’t been talking to Dick as much as before. It did make her look at him a different way though. She still saw him for who he was but she also saw him as someone who’d made mistakes. She had always saw him as this perfect and happy person, incapably of anything terrible. She looked up to him and as cheesy and pathetic as it sounded, she looked up to him like a hero.

“It’s not because of that,” she tried to ensure him, moving to sit next to him. “I forgave you for that. That wasn’t all your fault. My father was just as to blame as you, even more so. He should’ve known to not do anything with his son there.” She placed a comforting hand on his arm, knowing how it still ate him up inside.

She let out a sigh that could’ve been misconstrued as one of annoyance. She wasn’t annoyed at him, she was just sick of there always being some big dramatic conversation waiting to be happened every other day at this rate. Everything was so complicated all the time.

“I-I just don’t know how to talk to you about certain stuff, I guess.” She settled.

It wasn’t a lie. She really didn’t want to go talking to Dick Grayson about her current issues, if that’s what she even wanted to call them. He’d be the last person she’d think to call for help putting an outfit together for a party or for advice on why Jason had been acting so stupid. She just didn’t see those conversations ending well. And the whole Zsasz thing, well, she just wanted to move on from it and if she had to keep talking about it she never would; Jason had already helped her move past it for the most part and then Dick had to show up and bring it back up.

“Well I just want you to know that I’m here to listen.” Dick nodded, knowing that it’d be best to drop everything. For now, anyways. He patted his hands on his knees, standing up, trying to instantly go back to his normal chipper self. “Dinner?”

“I’m not that hungry but it’s not like Alfred will let me skip out,” she chuckled, standing up herself as the pair began to head downstairs.

Dick eyed Jason as he excited his room right as they had, as if he’d been ease-dropping and knew they were leaving, Dick noted with a eyebrow raised. Halley greeted Jason with a smile, asking him how training was. Dick listened to their conversation as they walked, staying a pace behind them. He totally caught that look Jason shot her as she laughed about something he said. Oh, he was definitely thinking it was time to move back to Gotham.

#Jason Todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x sister!reader #Dick Grayson x batsis #robin x reader #robin x oc #nightwing fanfic #batman fanfiction #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #jason todd x batsis #batboys x batsis

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ilonga · 4 years

Note

Got some Avatar Au Questions! So I'm assuming mustafar deviates significantly from canon, but how do obi-wan and anakin sort things out? How do obi-wan and Ahsoka escape palpatine's purge? When Anakin joins up with the rebellion, what is the reunion like for obi-wan, anakin, & Ahsoka? (The last one might be spoilery, so I completely understand if you do not want to elaborate on it)

oooh these are questions I’m super excited to answer!!

ok, to start with answering these questions, let’s first explain how Order 66 goes down in this au.

As I already mentioned, Palpatine has some sort of team up/deal with Vaatu that allows him quite a bit of control over the spirits, and he’s been using this power to orchestrate the spirit attacks starting with Maul so long ago. As the years passed, Palpatine increased the spirit attacks and the destruction and death they caused, and used this to gain more power himself and, eventually, create an army to fight them. At the end of the AOTC-adjacent era, he, despite Padme’s fighting against it (”We have had peace with the spirits, respected them, for centuries--we must find out why they are attacking, not escalate the conflict!”), creates the Grand Army of the Four Nations to fight back against the spirits in the first Spirit War in centuries. He then conscripts nonbenders into the army and places members of Raava’s Order, benders, at the head of various battalions.

When it comes time for Order 66, Palpatine orders the spirits to posses various nonbenders and has them attack their Generals/Commanders with intent to kill, taking most of them by surprise. Similar to canon, most of the benders are slaughtered while some manage to escape. A lot of the nonbenders are then killed/disposed of, so Palpatine doesn’t have many people who know the truth in the way (and also, he can claim that the benders killed them in their quest for power and turn the public against them even more). In addition, for benders not in battles/in the temple, Palpatine sends the Inquisitors, firebenders that he’s kidnapped and trained in secret over the years.

Ahsoka in this au (an airbender) is a bit like Jinora from Legend of Korra; she has a strong spiritual connection and connection to the spirit world. Because of this, she’s able to save herself and Obi-wan, and save some of the nonbenders from the spirits’ possession, such as Rex and some others. In the chaos, they get separated and don’t really have time to figure out what just happened, but they both know, to an extent, that Palpatine is behind this, and that most of Raava’s Order has just been slaughtered.

Then, Obi-wan learns that Anakin killed the avatar (Shaak Ti).

He’s betrayed, and confused, and furious, and in complete shock. He’s also mentally not in a great place; he’s just seen his friends and comrades slaughtered in cold blood. He thinks that Anakin was in on the plan to wipe them out completely (Anakin, meanwhile, doesn’t know about Order 66 and doesn’t learn about it until he wakes up after the Mustafar-adjacent battle), and had been working with Palpatine (because why else would Anakin kill Shaak Ti? How could Anakin kill Shaak Ti?).

So he goes to confront Anakin, and in a bit of a reverse of canon, Obi-wan’s the one who’s angry and on the offensive here, and initiates the fight. It’s worth noting that Anakin’s also not in a great place mentally; aside from having just killed the Avatar, he thinks his wife and unborn children were murdered because of the Order and that the Order he’s spent years fighting for has just been trying to gain power and suppress nonbenders all along (Pong Krell, anyone?). When Obi-wan attacks him, the conclusion he draws is “Oh no, he was in on the conspiracy too. He was in on the thing with Padme too.” because why else would Obi-wan be attacking him so viciously out of nowhere? So now they’re both sure they’ve been betrayed by the other, and they’re fighting. Usually, in a fight between benders, there’s some tradition, some honor. The swords, a big part of duels according to the traditions of the Order, are used. In this fight, none of that is used. Obi-wan forgoes them entirely; it’s a very much “how could you”, emotional, blunt force, unrefined kind of fight. Obi-wan blasts water, shards of ice, waves at Anakin, Anakin dodges, responds in turn with spurts and jets of fire. Both know each other’s techniques inside and out, obviously; it’s a very even fight. At one point Obi-wan yells something adjacent to his “you were my brother” line in canon, a “how could you betray me, us, like this?”, or a “how could you?”, smthing like that, and Anakin has a split second of distraction because what is Obi-wan talking about? What happened to the Order?

Obi-wan takes advantage of this distraction and his next hit knocks Anakin unconscious; he then freezes Anakin in a massive block of ice. He flees, then, it all being too overwhelming. He can’t bring himself to strike any kind of killing blow. He doesn’t know, then or later, if he left Anakin there hoping he would die or hoping he would survive. Years pass and Obi-wan seriously regrets the fight, especially regrets that he never found out why Anakin sided with Palpatine, or killed Shaak Ti. He realizes that there must have been something he didn’t know, and wishes he hadn’t attacked him so rashly and had at least gotten answers.

As for Anakin, Palpatine’s lackeys find him hours or maybe even days after the fight, and get him out of the ice. The time spent in the ice leaves him with frostbite and he ends up having to get three limbs amputated (his right arm and both legs). It also leaves him with permanent tremors. He gets prosthetics, which he can power with a low level-lightning type technique, and armor and a helmet, which Palpatine forces him to wear. He’s forced to wear the armor for a couple reasons; to hide his identity as a former member of Raava’s Order and a beloved hero, to hide the tremors, which Palpatine views as a sign of visible weakness, and because Palpatine enjoys the feeling of owning Anakin and the armor is a way to mark that.

Anakin physically joining the Rebellion happens right after he tries to sacrifice himself in Palpatine’s throne room so that Luke can escape, and though he manages to take out all of the guards/inquisitors and hold off Palpatine for some time, he gets blasted with a hell of a lot of lightning and fully expects to die right there. Luke goes into the Avatar state and gets them both out, and is able to do enough healing so that Anakin survives the encounter. He gets them to the Rebellion and basically? Begs Obi-wan to heal Anakin.

“I know he’s Vader, I know what he’s done to you, to the Order, but he sacrificed himself to rescue me and he’s dying, you have to help him--”

Obi-wan, of course, does, and has been living with his regrets and missing his little brother for so long that he probably would have done it without the begging anyways, at the very least so he can finally get answers from Anakin.

So Anakin is being slowly but surely healed by Obi-wan (it probably takes him months to recover tbh), and there’s plenty of angst because Obi-wan sees the extent of the injuries he caused and guilt, and because the first time Anakin wakes up--

Well, Anakin fully expected to die, right? And now he’s not dead which makes no sense, he was ready to die (and he wakes up and he thinks, even if I’m not dead now, I’ll be dead soon enough--either the lightning will do me in or Obi-wan will, if he had any sense he’d kill me--obviously he’s not mentally in a great place but being tortured and manipulated and slowly fighting back against the Firelord for years will do that to you), but it’s also good because he’s been Blue Spirit, a double agent, for years ever since Luke revealed himself to Anakin, and this means he has a chance to give the vital information he has on the Empire’s attack plans, ship schematics, etc.

So the first time he wakes up, when he can finally get his eyes to focus, he gets Obi-wan’s attention and basically starts babbling about attack plans, schematics, weaknesses, etc etc. And Obi-wan’s like “no, wait, you’re still weak, you need to recover, go back to sleep--” and Anakin’s like “no time, you need this information before I die--” and a stressful time is had by all. The next time he wakes up, he’s a bit less all over the place and it slowly starts to sink in that he is going to survive after all, so the urgency dies down a bit. Obi-wan gets the full story of how Palpatine manipulated him, what happened that night, etc, and Anakin gets the full story of what exactly happened during Order 66, what actually happened to Padme, what happened to his kid (kids, he has two--major shock is had). Ahsoka is the one to tell him that Palpatine was controlling the spirits all along.

He’s surprised, of course, but also somewhat resigned. The grandfatherly veneer of Palpatine has fallen further and further away as the years have passed and his true nature has been clearer and clearer; Anakin has known for a long time that Palpatine is not the good guy (hence his personal rebellion).

Ahsoka, like in canon, manages most of the intelligence networks of the Rebellion in this au. So she’s been getting and processing Blue Spirit’s messages for years, and when she realizes it’s Anakin--well, lots of emotions all around.

Obi-wan and Anakin do mend their relationship, as do Anakin and Ahsoka. Some of the kids Anakin saved over the years are at the Rebellion and recognize him--this also helps things along. And his information as Blue Spirit has saved many lives.

Obi-wan has been Luke’s waterbending teacher for a while, and Ahsoka has been his airbending/spirit world teacher, so eventually Anakin does take his place as Luke’s (and Leia’s!) firebending teacher.

Thanks for these asks and sorry for making the response so long!! Honestly I think I’ve been hoping for these questions, I’ve been wanting to talk about how this goes down forever :)

shorter summary: Obi-wan encounters Anakin just after Order 66 occurred and Anakin’s killed Shaak Ti. Believing Anakin to have been in on Palpatine’s plan all along and having betrayed them all, he attacks and initiates the fight in something of a reverse of canon. Anakin, seeing Obi-wan attacking him, comes to the conclusion that Obi-wan must have been part of the Order’s conspiracy (that Palpatine has convinced him of), which he would have never believed of him but why else would Obi-wan be attacking him like this? Neither of them are in a particularly good state of mind or particularly mentally sound during the fight. Obi-wan knocks him out and freezes him in ice, then flees. Palpatine finds Anakin a sizable amount of time later, and Anakin is left with three amputated limbs (which he gets prosthetics for) and permanent tremors (which the Vader armor hides).

Obi-wan and Ahsoa escape the purge because Ahsoka has a spiritual connection akin to Jinora’s in LOK, and is able to purge the spirits from some of the army such as Rex. In the chaos, the two are separated.

Obi-wan and Anakin reunite first, when Luke brings Anakin back to the Rebellion severely injured from the confrontation with Palpatine. He begs Obi-wan to heal him and Obi-wan agrees. It takes some time for Anakin to move past the fact that he’s not dead, but eventually, he and Obi-wan communicate, they both get the full story of what happened twenty years ago, and their relationship starts to mend. It’s faster once Obi-wan and the Rebellion realize that Darth Vader and Blue Spirit (the Imperial double agent whose information had saved so many) are one and the same. Same with Ahsoka, although it’s a quicker fix for her and Anakin’s relationship since she only found out about his actions secondhand, from Obi-wan, and it makes so much more sense once he gets his side of the story, and because she’s the one who’s been processing his info as Blue Spirit.

hope you liked!!

#star wars/avatar au #star wars/avatar crossover #star wars/avatar au asks #star wars fanfiction #my writing #anon asks #star wars #avatar the last airbender #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #damn even my tl;dr was too long #this whole damn thing is so long #guess I really had a lot of details I wanted to share huh #sorry anon!#hope you liked it anyways #:)

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wickedandthedamned · 4 years

Text

Ch.2 Goodbye Morioh

"My name is Yoshikage Kira. I don't remember when or how I died but I know one thing for certain. I am not going to heaven."

That phrase. It had become a mantra to him. It was a chance for him to ground himself and have at least something that makes sense, a way for him to accept the faith he was currently living.

He had been dead for almost four years now (or at least that is how long he thought it had been time gets hazy when one is dead). For the majority of the first year, he roamed around trying to figure out the new world he found himself in. He very quickly realized that this new world was heavily bound by a set of rules. For the most part, they involved staying out of the way of the living which was simple enough. The hard part came with missing what he had when he was alive (at least what he remembered). He could neither taste nor feel any physical object. He never felt hungry but thought it was a shame that he could not enjoy food any longer. He particularly resented this while passing a sandwich stand at the airport.

He figured walking in the airport was going to be a hassle but thankfully Momoko had Scheduled a very late flight meaning there would be fewer people to bump against separating him from his limbs.

He decided that for once he was not going to crumble up the ticket. The little paper read Business class, well he was technically going on a business trip. It was obvious the monk was trying to make amends, not that Kira minded the extra legroom and separation from other passengers. Kira looked around the empty terminal. What exactly was this mission? Momoko had been very vague. He began having second thoughts about coming. She had betrayed him last time after all.

No matter, he had to push his hesitance aside as it was time to board. There only seemed to be a handful of people on the flight and most of them were very old. No children, thank god. If he had to spend the next 13+ hours next to a screaming pile of snot he would crash the plane. Yet again that would probably mean getting stuck with the passengers for a while so maybe that was not the best idea.

He made his way to his seat. Kira looked around and for a second thought, one of the stewardesses looked right at him. He was very relieved to find that was not the case. That was one of the few silver linings of being a ghost, being literally invisible to most people. He never had to deal with uncomfortable small talk or answer questions from annoying tourists. His class was mostly empty so he was able to enjoy using his complimentary headphones to listen to classical music for the entire trip. If only he could enjoy a little bit of champagne…

The plane took off quietly. He saw the small town he had known all his life grow smaller and smaller until it fully disappeared under the clouds. He felt odd. Something inside him shifted but he was not quite able to tell what it was. Kira was not very good at putting a name to his own emotions a lot of times. It definitely did not help that sudden burst of emotions such as these seemed to be tied with flashbacks of his previous life. Most of the time it was simply a small snapshot, a memory of an insignificant moment being triggered by an equally insignificant event such as the smell of someone's perfume reminding him of a store he used to frequent. Other times, he was not so lucky. Other times the memories rushed in and overwhelmed him, knocking him to the ground and making his spectral body ache. He didn't like thinking about those memories and stirred clear of anything he thought might make him remember them.

Kira watched the sunrise as Smetana's Moldau played. He drew a content sigh at the sight of the pinks and oranges of the sky kissing the horizon as the sound of violins swirled in his ear. Despite not wanting to admit it, he was looking forward to the job now or rather the prospect of it being legit.

"How odd" he chuckled to himself as he carelessly flipped through the travel magazines "a ghost on a plane traveling practically across the globe."

…

The Italian airport was much more crowded. He carefully wove through the crowd avoiding any accidental touching. Unfortunately, he found himself almost falling in front of a drug detection dog. The large black German Shepherd snarled its teeth and lunged at him pulling its distracted handler so close to Kira he almost went right through him. Kira managed to scurry away and hid behind a wall.

"That was a close call. I ought to be more careful if I want to arrive in one piece"

He closed his eyes and composed himself. There was a rather pleasant smell in the air. Freshly baked bread. His heart sank slightly but he quickly shook his self-pity aside.

"Focus, there is a job to do…hopefully"

He walked down the streets of the Italian town admiring the way old architecture blended in seamlessly with the new one. He didn't care much for travel when he was alive but now he thought that maybe he should have volunteered for more business trips.

… A couple of streets away a man sat at a table impatiently tapping his foot against the floor. His heel making an angry click against the pavement. Leaning against the adjacent wall, was a priest with a Bluetooth in one ear. The priest gave the other man an anxious look.

"Will you cut that out already? All that tapping is giving me the heebie-jeebies" "He's late" "Maybe the flight got delayed. Patience is a virtue you know? He probably has a good reason for being late"

The man rolled his eyes and the priest shrugged. …

Kira had wandered on to the flea market. He saw beautifully handcrafted leatherwear, the most exquisite works of art from local artists, and a couple of teenagers playing a delightful tune on the violin. As far as Yoshikage Kira was concerned, this place was everything he had ever dreamed of. He hid behind a market tent and whispered to the man running it.

"Excuse me, could I get the time?" "Oh, of course, it is 13:30" "Thank you" "Anyti-" the old merchant turned as if to see where the voice came from just to find no one there. He looked around in search of the source but quickly gave up when a young woman asked him the price of a handbag.

Kira continued walking down the street, searching for the rendezvous point. He found what he was looking for and approached the shop.

"Finally, the café. Now I just have to find a priest" Before Kira had the opportunity to look around he heard a man in front of him speak.

"Excuse me"

Kira looked over his shoulder to look for the person the man was addressing but found no one behind him. He turned to face the speaker once more. Was the man talking to him?

"Yes, you. I believe you have a message for me" The man pointed directly at Kira and shot him a wink. There was no longer any doubt in his mind this was the person he was supposed to meet. Kira circled him like a shark while looking him up and down.

"You are Momoko's friend, right?" The priest raised an eyebrow seemingly unbothered by having his personal space invaded.

"That's me. I expected you to be a lot... Older" Kira stopped and faced the priest taking a very good look at his face. The priest's white hair was swept to the side boyishly and instead of religious attire, he wore an off the shoulder tunic with a golden cross belt. He looked like he was in his mid 20's.

"Oh, believe me, I am old enough, I just moisturize. Now the code word, if you please"

"Right. Poveglia".

The priest gave Kira a large smile and clapped his hands excitedly.

"Welcome …?"

"Yoshikage"

"Yoshikage! I am Father Pomodoro Fastidio"

Fastidio extended a hand towards Kira who did not shake and instead chose to continue to stare him down.

"Quick question are you-"

"Dead? No."

"I don't really care about that. What I was going to say was "are you the one who I will be working for""

As he had finished that last sentence, a man on the nearest table started coughing loudly. He wore what looked like an extremely expensive suit and had long pink hair neatly held back with a loose ponytail. The priest continued speaking completely disregarding the choking.

"Oh goodness no, I'm simply a helper. I must say you arrived at the perfect time"

The coughing grew louder as the man began thrashing around gathering attention from other patrons. Kira could hardly hear the priest over all the noise.

"You see my friend has a bit of a predicament and he could really use someone in your line of work to.. Er.. help him sort it out"

"So I'm going to be working for a friend of a friend of a friend?" Asked Kira, growing increasingly more irritated with the background noise and everyone’s use of the word ‘friend’.

Other patrons started yelling to call the paramedics. The choking man clawed desperately at his throat in a last attempt to breathe. His lips had turned completely blue and his face was contorted in panic. His mouth foamed and his eyes began rolling to the back of his head.

"And just who is this friend ?" Kira was practically yelling in order to be heard at this point.

Fastidio's face lit up with excitement.

"Him" the priest look pointed at the choking man just as his head slammed against the table and dropped dead.

#kiravolo #diavolo x kira #kiraboss #Yoshikage Kira #diavolo #deadmans q #dmq #jjba #jojo ships #jojo bizzare #jojo rare ship

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1980s-robin · 5 years

Text

robin x reader

pairing: robin x fem!reader

fandom: stranger things

requested: yes

summary: the summer of 1985 had ended, robin has some new friends and she’s back in school for her senior year. while robin has come to terms with her sexuality more and more throughout the summer, she hasn’t found someone to date; until she does. robin plays the tuba in band, but reader? well she’s the captain of the girls soccer team, popular for her school spirit, kind smile and determination. but robin starts developing feelings for her, and she starts feeling nervous around the girl.

a/n: this request stuck out to me, i absolutely loved it so i just can’t wait for everyone to read it ! i did take some liberties since i set it after season three, i also made the reader popular but kind because plot. also i really enjoyed writing this and have so many ideas of how it could have more than one part, so if you guys want another part please let me know ! also posted on my wattpad @/chiefhargroves

warnings: some language, not much though. fluff, and discussions of sexuality. minor season three spoilers.

word count: 2.3k words

Robin had quite the summer, but it’s not like she could tell people about it. The people who knew what she encountered, the people who were there when she dealt with the Russians and the monster, were the only people she was able to tell. So when school came back, she was basically alone. The kids were entering high school, but they had their relationships and their friend groups and she was a senior, so befriending sophomores wasn’t the most normal thing that she could do during the day. For everyone else, it was business as usual, going back to school. But that one summer changed everything for Robin.

Not only had Robin seen things that she didn’t even think possible, gained a job at a mall and then had the mall destroyed, and then have to hide her secrets from the entire town leading to many conspiracy theorists coming through to figure out what had actually happened. But she had fully come to terms with the fact that she was a lesbian, she had no desire for men and he was encouraged to accept this by, none other, than Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, who wasn’t even there to help her and be a friend to her because he had graduated before she had. It’s not as if Hawkins was the same as it had always been, the incident with Starcourt had caused quite a stir in the town and the people of Hawkins and adjacent areas were beginning to figure out that strange things were happening in the town. But, no one’s summer had been as strange as Robin’s had been, and she knew that and couldn’t say a thing about it.

The girl didn’t think she would have a normal senior year, she didn’t think she would have crushes or best friends or any of that, but then she started paying attention to you. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the captain of the soccer team, one of the most popular girls in the grade not because you were rude or snobbish, but because you were kind, full of spirit and compassion. It was a month into school and Robin had already attended every single soccer game the school held just to see you. You took notice, but you thought she was just being supportive of the team. That changed when you two were paired together for a science project.

“Robin? Robin!” You called, waving your hand in front of her face which drew her out of her thoughts. “What?” She asked, clearly lost in thought about the summer or… you… she didn’t even know anymore. “I asked when you want to meet after school for our project, I’m free tonight.” You said, a bit of suspicion on your voice. “Are you alright? You’ve just been zoning out a lot this week.” It was true, Robin had copied notes off of just about every single person in class that week because she hadn’t been paying attention to anything. At that point, she hadn’t even been thinking about college because she had been so distracted by everything that she had been going through, everything that she had been through.”I’m fine I just haven’t been sleeping very well.” Robin said, trying to put on her most convincing smile. “To answer your other question, I’m free later too. Where do you want to meet?” She asked, knowing she’d have to cancel plans with Steve but since he’d been encouraging her to make a move, he would understand. “Come over to my house, my parents have work until ten tonight.” You told her, a smile on your face. A smile that made Robin’s heart race, a smile that gave her too much hope that it was something more than just a friendly smile. She swallowed those feelings back; “See you then.” Robin answered, her statement quickly followed by the bell that signaled the next class.

Little did Robin know, you had been going through your own struggle however you were in it completely alone. The thing was, you were one of the popular kids for being kind however most of the people that were friends with you were either assholes or just wanted to be friends with your public persona and not who you are as a person. They wanted to be friends with the captain of the soccer team, they didn’t want to be friends with (Y/N) (Y/L/N), a young girl who was going through a sexual identity crisis and felt like she might only be attracted to women. You didn’t tell anyone, because you figured you were almost finished with high school so there was no point in risking everything just to be happy and yourself in front of the entire school.

A knock at your front door was heard, causing you to drop the book that was in your hand and walk to the door, immediately being greeted by Robin. She looked flustered, you were about to greet her before you heart the car horn behind her and looked over her shoulder only to see none other than Steve Harrington. “Remember what I told you, Robin!” He said, before driving away, leaving the two girls alone.

“S-Sorry about that,” Robin said, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’ve ever stuttered before, Steve must have really done a number on you with whatever it was that he said.” You commented as you moved out of the way so she could come in. “Um… since it’s raining just take your shoes off, my parents don’t like it when I track mud through the house.” You said before you moved towards the kitchen.

“I set some stuff aside for the project, it’s in my room I don’t know if you wanted to work there or down here… do you want tea or something before we start?” You asked her, noting that Robin had taken off her shoes and was wearing Star Wars socks with red lightsabers on one side and blue lightsabers on the other. “They were a gift from one of Steve’s kids.” She said, noticing your stare at her socks. “No, no I like Star Wars. I think they’re cool.” You said before you motioned to the coffee pot and the tea kettle. “There’s some coke in the fridge too.” You said, turning to her.

After a few hours, you two had your project for science laid out, the goal was to make the chemical that was assigned without blowing everything up. Of course, the first group to do this needed to present it to the class so chances are you were the only group that was actually doing the project. “Okay, okay. Trial four.” You said, holding one of the components to the beaker and turning to Robin. “You ready?” You asked her, just hoping it was going to work. “Yeah, go,” Robin said, but you caught her small step backward in case it blew up again. You slid your goggles down and poured the component into the beaker, it seemed the bubble normally for a few seconds before simmering.

“We did it!” You said enthusiastically, Robin high fived you and stepped closer to look at it herself. But, you hadn’t done it. Because right as you both went to look at it the beaker quickly started bubbling again and exploded out of the top of the beaker and onto the both of you. “Shit!” You yelped as you jumped back, Robin following you but both of you slipping on the newly wet floor and falling next to each other. The chemical wouldn’t hurt either of you with it getting on your skin, it didn’t smell great, though.

After the initial shock wore off you both turned to look at each other both you started laughing. “Oh my God, we’re complete idiots aren’t we?” You said, in between laughter, removing your chemical covered goggles so you could actually see. “We’re not idiots we’re just stupid-” Robin replied, cutting herself off when she realized that didn’t make any sense.

Robin and you took turns with the shower, “You can take some of my clothes.” You said as Robin walked out in a towel, handing her a bathrobe however the blush on your cheeks was hard to miss. “I put your clothes in the uh… the washer so they don’t stain.” You said, trying to keep your composer as best as you could. “Steve probably wouldn’t like it if I saw you like this.” You said, a hint of jealousy in your voice.

Robin let out a laugh, “I’m not dating Steve, we’re friends.” She said, oh if only you knew the truth. “B-But you two are so close.” You said as you turned to face her as she put the bathrobe on over the towel, just to make sure that she didn’t get any water anywhere. “I- Steve knows why we can’t be together. He’s actually been encouraging me to make a move on the person I like.” She said as she sat down on the other side of the bed, but you just swung your legs over and scooted over to sit next to her. “Oh. Who is he?” You asked, but you noticed that she seemed a bit caught off guard. “He… is a she,” Robin responded simply. Your eyes widened, “Who?” You asked again. Oh God, you were just going to be jealous that it wasn’t you.

“I can’t tell you, you’ll only be mad.” You raised your eyebrow, “Why would I be mad? Is it my mom?” You asked, which caused her to snort. “(Y/N), I’ve never met your mom.” Robin verified. “T-Then why would I be mad?” You asked her, of course, you would be mad that it wasn’t you but she didn’t know that. “She’s uh, well she’s this girl with (Y/H/C) and (Y/E/C), and she’s funny and popular and really sweet. She’s also very accepting like, the only other person who’s as accepting as she is, is Steve.” Robin said, which caused you to nod. “She sounds nice.” You said, looking away to hide the obvious sadness on your face.

“Yeah, Yeah. She is, she’s really nice.” She told you, and you looked over at her. “What’s her name.” You asked her. “(Y/N).” Robin responded and you tilted her head. “Yeah, what’s her name though?” You asked her and she snorted yet again. “She’s you, I like you (Y/N). Haven’t you noticed that I’ve been coming to all of your games and… practically running away every time you come by?” Your heart was pounding at that point, “I guess I should have, you’re the calmest person I’ve ever met I just- didn’t think you’d feel the same way, I haven’t told anyone that I like girls.” You responded before you realized you had confessed how you felt. “I’m sorry, did you just say the same way?” Robin asked, and you nodded.

The world seemed to slow down as you both kind of looked at each other, processing the fact that you had both just confessed your feelings for each other. You started leaning in, and Robin followed your lead before your lips met, your hand finding her forearm as you shared a very light kiss. As you both pulled back you both noticed the goofy smiles on the others face. “I can’t believe my first kiss was with someone who isn’t even wearing clothes.” You replied, and she raised her eyebrows. “That was your first kiss?” She asked and your cheeks turned red. “I- There was no one else that I wanted to kiss so I… didn’t.” You responded. “Well then, I’m honored to be your first.” She said causing you to let out a giggle.

“Do you um, do you want to go out to dinner tomorrow night?” Robin asked you, rather awkwardly. “Of course but I have to ask; when Steve dropped you off is this what he was encouraging you to do?” You asked her curiously, causing her to nod. “Y-Yeah he’s kind of been encouraging me to make a move for the past month.” She said, causing you to nod.

After Robin got dressed you both made your way down to the main room, where the small bubble television was rested on the stand. You turned the television on and turned it onto a new episode of Cheers but you both just let it play in the background. You turned to Robin, “So, you said that you haven’t met my mom. Do you want to wait for your clothes, because if you do you’ll probably meet her.” You said, to which she shook her head. “I do, but I can’t Steve’s going to be here any minute, I’ll get them tomorrow.” She said with a wink causing you to laugh before you heart a horn from outside. It had to be Steve. You both stood up and made your way to the door, opening it and both of you stepping outside before she pulled you into one last kiss before making her way to the car. “See you tomorrow!” She called and you grinned, “See you tomorrow, Robin!” You said before you went back into your house which a giant, goofy grin on your face.

As soon as Robin sat down she was met with a giant hug from Steve, “You did it, I’m so proud of you!” He said over enthusiastically causing Robin to laugh and push him lightly. “Stop it, Steve.” She said, however, she couldn’t fight the smile on her face. “So, I guess you rule then?” He asked her, to which she rolled her eyes as she put her seat belt on. “You already knew that I rule, Dingus.” She said before they both drove off.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

I'll call you when the party's over (Branjie) - hy-jinkx, dreamyunicorngirl

AN: Hi everyone! It’s been a while, but I’m back with a collection of holiday oneshots! Each oneshot is written in collaboration with another wonderful writer, and I’m super excited to share them with you all. You can find all the details on the announcement post I made on my tumblr, @hy-jinkx. I had a lot of fun writing this fic with Pia, who is a literal angel, so I hope you all enjoy it! Shoutout to Meggie for being an incredible beta, and for helping Pia and me pull this fic together. We love you and are super grateful for your help! Title taken from “When The Party’s Over” by Billie Eilish You can also read on AO3.

Sickly sweet wine and pungent clove fill the air. Giggles and laughter bounce off the walls as nervous fingertips brush against each other. Two tipsy figures stand in the doorway, doe eyes glancing to the frame. Stars find their home in her gleaming eyes as she spots the mistletoe dangling above her head, causing her to feel a rush of excitement. Her lips twitch into a smirk before the beauty in front of her catches the little branch of Christmas-induced happiness. Lips interlock as the fireworks explode in her stomach, making her whole world spin. Yet one more turn and the scene is gone - replaced with a blaring alarm right next to her ear.

A throbbing headache replaces the sweet scene in the brunette’s head, the magical night popping like a soap bubble pricked by a child’s fingernail. The desire to turn over and further hide beneath her large blanket gets interrupted by a glance at the clock on the nightstand beside her, telling her it’s time to leave her safe haven and get ready for another day at work. Bright red numbers blinding her eyes, forcing her to squint to even properly identify the time, reminding her that she shouldn’t have had that much to drink last night. With a slight grunt and furrowed brows, Vanessa finally crawls out of her bed and heads to the medicine cabinet first, popping two Advil.

Feet drag a still half-asleep body to the adjacent bathroom, coming to a halt in front of the sink. A set of tired eyes stare at a drained figure. It’ll be a heavy makeup day then, I guess. A stretch and yawn, followed by quickly hopping into the shower. Blow drying her hair, applying makeup, then carefully brushing her teeth. Not any less tired eyes stare at a slightly more human figure, a light slap to the left and then to the right cheek to stay awake and the brunette finally deems herself good enough to go.

The walk to the train station is a journey in itself. Loud teenagers make their way to school as ice cold businessmen hurry down the streets. Vanessa nearly stumbles over a pigeon in her sleepwalking state, cursing loud enough for an elderly lady to comment on her “unacceptable use of language.” Adding to that, gum gets stuck to her heel and somehow in the hurry of it all, she had left her traincard at home - so evasion of fare it is.

Once the exhausted and now also slightly stressed woman collapses on an ever so lightly stained seat, she puts in her headphones and watches the snow stained landscape pass by. Her head dreamily hits the window as she closes her eyes, face hidden behind her oversized scarf - still smelling like wine, oranges and a pinch of ginger. A quiet piano melody enters her consciousness to blend out all of the hassle around her, praying for the advil to kick in soon. As her heartbeat calms down and her mind starts spinning a little less, she remembers. Wavy blonde hair, piercing green eyes, red-stained lips and a cotton candy kiss.

Goosebumps wander up her arms, her breath hitches in her throat as her chest gets warmer with every passing second. A rosey-pink paints her cheeks as memories of the past night play like a movie in her mind. Her own private Christmas romance. With one catch - the leading lady is played by a stranger.

The train comes to a halt abruptly, doe eyes flying open as she nearly hits her head on the seat in front of her. Her heart stopping just as sudden as the conductor hits the brake. The flowers that started to bloom in her chest get covered in frost. Her world frozen for a moment. She doesn’t know her name.

Running through the streets filled with cyclists rushing to work may let the wind play with her hair, but it doesn’t get rid of the memory of the unbelievably stunning woman in her mind. A hungover mind all fogged up with the memories of the previous night. Her kiss still imprinted on her lips, her touch imprinted on her skin. Her being imprinted on her soul.

She prays her boss will forgive her as she rushes into her office, in a daze and way too late for work.

As Vanessa takes a seat at her desk, she’s immediately greeted by Silky asking where the hell she’s been. It’s not the kind of greeting she particularly wants that morning, but she’s resigned to making do with whatever she can get.

She lets her purse drop to the ground beside her rolling desk chair, scooching the chair to the edge of her desk as A’keria echoes Silky’s concern. Vanessa can tell from the massive cup of coffee sitting on Silky’s desk that she isn’t the only one with a hangover that morning, which makes her feel just a little bit better. At least she won’t be suffering through the day alone.

Her friends look at her expectantly, clearly waiting on an answer to their question. In that moment, however, all Vanessa can think about is the blonde from last night, and she knows immediately that she has to ask the two other women for their help. Her memory of the previous night might have been blurry, but hopefully Silky or A’keria remember something she doesn’t.

“Woke up late, not a big deal. How much you two remember from last night?” Vanessa asks her friends, glancing between the two of them. She watches as A’keria rolls her eyes and shrugs, Silky furrowing her eyebrows in an effort to concentrate.

“I am hungover as hell, I don’t remember shit,” Silky declares at last, causing Vanessa to let out a defeated sigh. Of course she doesn’t remember, Vanessa thinks to herself, her eyes darting back over to A’keria as if the other woman is her last hope.

“Girl, you know I was distracted tryin’ to find me a man,” A’keria quips back, raising a single eyebrow at Vanessa. “Why you so curious though?”

“I met a girl, but I ain’t remember her name,” Vanessa replies, watching as Silky nearly hits A’keria the moment her arms start flailing in excitement.

“What the hell you mean you don’t remember her name?” A’keria replies, letting out a disapproving hum as Silky begins scooting her chair across the office floor.

“You remember what she look like?” Silky chimes in. Vanessa lets out a sigh as she shakes her head, bracing herself from another surprised shriek from Silky. Their boss would likely need to have a talk with them if they didn’t shut the hell up soon, but Vanessa can’t bring herself to care about that in the moment. “You don’t even remember what she look like? Bitch, the hell do you remember?”

“Uhhhhh, I kissed her under some mistletoe? And she got blonde hair. That’s it.”

Silky looks as if she’s about to explode, about to let out a third shriek when A’keria lets out a loud cough, signaling that their boss was about to pass by. The three women rush back to their respective desks, falling into comfortable silence and pretending to work diligently. To their boss, it would look like the three were typing away at emails or some report that needed to be submitted soon, but in reality they were opening their work group chat to continue screaming at each other.

S: WE HAVE TO FIND HER S: YOU CAN’T JUST KISS SOME BLONDIE UNDER MISTLETOE AND NOT MARRY THE BITCH V: I KNOW MARY V: Help me find her??? A: girrrrrrrrrrrrrl. mistletoe kiss don’t mean she’s the love of your life S: shut it, we got a mission: find vanjie’s mistletoe dream girl.

Once they hear the click of their boss retreating back into his office, Vanessa pushes her chair across the floor to where Silky and A’keria sit, flashing her friends a shit-eating grin.

“So what’s the plan?”

For the next hour, Vanessa sits huddled together with Silky and A’keria at Silky’s desk as they map out a plan, Silky typing up the details as fast as she can without her fingers stumbling over the keys. A’keria chimes in occasionally, but ultimately just sits back for the majority of their planning session and reminds them how crazy the whole situation is. They’re chasing after some blonde woman Vanessa hardly remembers, what could go wrong?

By the time they finish coming up with their plan, Vanessa feels unstoppable. If everything goes according to plan, she’ll find her mysterious blonde by the end of the day. It’s foolproof, really - or so she thinks. Once the details are finalized, Vanessa makes Silky email her a copy before they can get things underway.

Step 1: Compile a guest list Step 2: Interrogate the guest list Step 3: Ride off into the sunset with mistletoe blondie

The third step is Silky’s doing, earning her an exasperated sigh from A’keria. They each take turns jotting down anyone they remember seeing at the party the night before, afterwards ordering them based on who was most likely to have seen Vanessa with the blonde. One name sticks out at the top of the list, the resident gossip at work: Scarlet.

Sharing a knowing look, Silky circles Scarlet’s name several times for emphasis, and they all know they need to speak to her first.

“First things first, breakfast!” Vanessa loudly announces to the office, hands clasped together as she winks at Silky in the process, indicating her to follow her to the bakery café - fully knowing she has an appointment in half an hour.

“Hoe, you just arrived an hour late. Are you really that desperate to get fired?” Silky hushes the moment the two women leave the office behind. Students slowly filling the halls, rushing to their first lecture of the day.

“Ohh shush it. Mr. Charles could never run this shit show without me!” Vanessa tosses her wavy hair behind her shoulder. “And besides that we can’t miss Scarlet. She gets her second coffee of the day and a chocolate croissant at the bakery at 8:30 every single day, I am not rushing for no reason! So move your ass, bitch!“

Consequences long forgotten, a mysterious blonde dictating her mind.

As the two still slightly hungover women stroll down the halls and bicker back and forth about nothing in particular, they spot their target from far away, already entering the café. Determination written between Vanessa’s brows as her stride gains a bit of speed, electricity flowing through her veins, desperate to find answers.

Ice blonde locks entangled with olive tanned fingertips, sickly sweet promises whispered to tipsy brains. Lipstick smudges and backs arch to the low bass pulsing through their veins.

The bell on the door rings as Vanessa and Silky race into the tiny café. The smell of ground coffee beans and sickly sweet pastries hits the two within a second of entering - making Vanessa’s stomach growl.

Corkscrew curls and a matte red lipstick smile at the cashier, ordering a chocolate croissant and a sugary sweet coffee. Silky daringly cuts in line right behind her - fully living up to her no-fucks-given attitude - earning disapproving looks and growls from caffeine-withdrawn students which she shrugs off with a “got anything to say hoes?”

As the barista prepares the other woman’s order, Silky decides to chat up the woman in question, making use of her brilliant skills of entangling people in random conversations.

“Hey Scarlet babe, how are you doing on this wonderful Monday? Have you started the day right - would you mind adding some Silky magic to spice up your day? Ohh, chocolate and coffee, that combination speaks to my heart - do you come here often?”

As Silky runs her mouth, Vanessa orders a hot chocolate for big-ol’ Silk and a breakfast burrito and a dark black coffee for herself, letting Silky go on for a hot minute, before she decides to save Scarlet from her friend’s tornado of a monologue.

"So how did you find the party yesterday?” The brunette jumps into the conversation, tapping her blood red fingernails against the counter. Head tilted to the side as her heart constricts, nervously awaiting a much-needed revelation.

“Ohh - I actually didn’t make it yesterday. I was busy.” Scarlet dramatically tosses her hair behind her shoulder, sighing deeply as she pulls the bottom of her lip between her teeth. Innocent eyes flicker to the table to her right, glancing at a deeply engrossed Yvie working on her very busy laptop, another quiet sigh escapes her painted lips as she catches the dark skinned woman sucking on a straw. “But Farrah filled me on all the hot gossip,” she mentions after being pulled back into reality by someone accidentally knocking over the tip-jar on the counter, adding a slight cough after catching herself nearly drooling over the other woman.

“Ohh did anything interesting happen?” Vanessa innocently asks before grabbing her coffee and breakfast burrito from the counter. Sweaty palms wipe across her jeans as she struggles to keep her lips from twitching and keeping her cool - obviously failing miserably.

The three women stroll towards the exit, but not before having a brief chat with Yvie, while Vanessa catches Scarlet trying to play off the heart eyes she has for the giggling lady opposite her with ever-so-loving eyerolls.

The walls of the café turn into dirty white halls of the office block of the university. Sleep-deprived students push past them, hurrying to their lectures or trying to still get a spot in the packed library. Multiple sips of coffee are needed before Scarlet finally answers Vanessa’s question: “I mean, there was some tension between Katya and Violet, but I think everyone knows that already. Also, Rajah and Kahanna got real nasty towards each other-"

"I was asking if someone got their cookies, if you know what I mean,” Vanessa pronounces and winks at Scarlet in the process of skipping and twirling through the halls, simply earning a raised eyebrow by the honey blonde beauty. Electricity still pulsing through her veins, itching to be released.

“You know that Christmas romance and shit. Just asking for a friend obviously,” a sarcastic eye roll and the drag of the last syllable to play off her awkward phrasing. “Waiting for someone to spill the tea!” A screech finishes Vanessa’s little rambling, pulse rising as a light blush starts to cover her cheeks.

Vanessa comes to a halt in front of her office, turning around and finding Scarlet eyeing her suspiciously, eyes squinted and brows raised even higher. Definitely not buying any of her bullshit.

“Quit it hoe!” Silky interrupts them - nearly spilling the rest of her hot chocolate as she raises her hands in frustration.

The furrows in Scarlet’s brows get even deeper, the woman way too confused to voice any further questions.

“Vanjie got a little mistletoe action with some pretty blonde, but was too damn drunk to remember,” Silky announces, almost loud enough for the entire office complex to hear.

Vanessa’s mouth falls open in a gasp as she stares wide-eyed at her best friend, lost for words. At least for a second.

“Silky! Bitch, why you always got to run your mouth?” Hands swaying through the air, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

“Ohhh, I haven’t heard about that,” Scarlet simultaneously declares. “But, if you are in desperate need of an answer, I would try asking Ariel about it - she didn’t let go of her Nikon the entire evening.”

By the time Vanessa sits back down at her desk, it’s almost time for her appointment. One glance at the clock tells her she has exactly three minutes before the student she’s meant to meet with should show up. Plenty of time to write an email, she decides, hastily logging back into her computer. She waits impatiently as the screen loads, nails tapping against her desk as the seconds tick by.

Just as she finally gets her email to open up, she hears footsteps approaching her desk, and she hopes more than anything else that her student isn’t here yet.

“Miss Mateo?” Vanessa looks up when she hears the voice, resisting the urge to curse under her breath. Of course her student was here already, and a minute early too. Damn it. “I’m Gigi, I’m here to meet with you?”

Vanessa welcomes the student, reluctantly getting up from her desk to lead the student into the advising office. All through her advising appointment, Vanessa’s mind continues to wander to the blonde from the night before, and she finds herself impatiently tapping her foot as she listens to Gigi rambles endlessly about her confused muddle of academic plans. Most days Vanessa would be eager to jump in and help guide students like Gigi down whatever path seemed like the best fit, but that morning she just can’t find the focus to sort out Gigi’s problems.

She’s too eager to run back to her desk and email Ariel.

Thirty minutes later, Gigi walks out with a smile on her face and a much calmer aura than she walked in with. Vanessa, however, is about to lose her damn mind if she doesn’t get to see Ariel’s photos soon.

The moment she sits back down at her desk, she repeats the process she attempted before Gigi walked in: logs in to her computer, waits as it boots up at a painstakingly slow rate, and opens her email. Her fingers fly across the keyboard as she drafts her message to the university’s Social Media Manager, checking it over once for typos before sending it.

Good Morning Ariel,

Heard you got some photos at the party last night, can you send them my way? Looking for some to put up around the office.

-VM

She doesn’t get a response from Ariel, which only puts her even more on edge. She debates sending the woman another email or calling over to her office as a follow-up to her email, but she ultimately decides against both. If nothing else, she’ll stop by after lunch to get the photos from Ariel.

The last thing Vanessa expects, however, is for Ariel to show up at her office 20 minutes before lunch, laptop in hand.

“Hey girl!” Ariel calls out, grabbing a chair and pulling it over to sit beside Vanessa’s. “I got your email, thought I’d come stop by and show you the pictures instead, since there’s too many to attach in an email.”

At first, Vanessa is excited to have Ariel show her the photos. Five minutes later, her excitement is gone as Ariel drones on and on about photos that have nothing to do with the blonde Vanessa is looking for. Images of Nina making a toast, Asia ducking to avoid being hit by Silky’s flailing arms, and Kameron cheering as Monet dances take up Vanessa’s time, her eyes frantically scanning each picture for any sign of the blonde from Vanessa’s memory.

She’s about to give up hope when Ariel clicks to a group photo of Katya, Nina, and Manila. Upon first glance, she thinks it’s another pointless image, one that holds no clues about the secret identity of the blonde from the night before. But then she notices something in the corner of the image and leans in for a closer look, ignoring Ariel’s words for a minute. A flash of blonde hair, tight red party dress, the side of a face barely visible - just enough for Vanessa to recognize her. This was the blonde she kissed the night before.

“Can you send me this picture?” Vanessa asks abruptly, looking over at Ariel. It doesn’t matter that the Social Media Manager looks confused, Vanessa throws in an almost desperate please , and before she knows it, Ariel is forwarding the photo to her via email.

She was finally making a breakthrough in her hunt to find her mystery girl.

After Ariel sends her the picture, the girl leaves for lunch, promising to share the rest of the photos with Vanessa soon. Not that Vanessa really need to see many more, now that she’s found an image of the woman she kissed, but Vanessa agrees nonetheless. If she ends up being unable to find her mystery girl, maybe she can find a better picture of the woman’s face amongst Ariel’s sea of Christmas party photos.

But for now, she has a lead. She also has a lunch date with Nina and Monet, who can hopefully help her determine who the blonde woman in the photo is.

Getting up, Vanessa grabs her jacket and scurries out of the office to go meet up with Nina and Monet, mentally running over the questions she wants to ask them once she meets up with them in the campus dining hall.

Time passes differently inside a university. Vanessa noticed that the day she stepped into this building and still hasn’t properly adapted to the strange environment. So it’s no surprise that once she reaches the dining hall everyone is seated already, chatting about the exciting weekend they’ve experienced.

With an annoyed sigh, the discouraged and highly exhausted Vanessa slumps down into her usual spot in the dining hall, slamming her plate a bit too hard against the plastic table. Nearly unable to block out the highly enthusiastic conversation that Nina and Monét are having right in front of her. Even slightly envying their chemistry and shamelessly flirtatious undertones, making her even more miserable about still being left in the dark in regards to her mystery lady.

On any other day she would cheerfully join their conversation, gossip about her students and tease them for their very subtle flirting. Yet today, questions and approaches, failed ideas and complex plans swirl around her head, painting a Picasso-like picture in her mind - one that’s way too abstract to properly make sense of. Especially while hungover.

As Vanessa’s head falls into her outstretched hands, blurred memories of the blonde beauty flicker in her mind like a powerpoint playing at high speed. Every inch of her longing to smell her harsh but intoxicating citrus perfume. Craving to revisit the taste of her lips. Her heart sinking with each hour passing, never really getting much closer to the finish line.

With a deep sigh she shifts in her chair, picking up her fork just to swirl it around in her food. Eyes hopelessly flickering around the cafeteria in utter anguish. Desperately waiting to catch sight of golden locks and piercing green eyes. Ariel’s photograph imprinted in her mind.

Stuck in her self loathing, she nearly misses a mention of the ‘tall mysterious blonde’ by one of her fellow colleagues. A jab to her rib - resulting in her sudden, wide awake state. Hairs on her arms raised, the sensation of her blouse on her skin nearly too much to handle. The words finally reaching her consciousness. A’keria silently points out the source in question before Silky even gets a chance to open her brash mouth.

The women in question, Aquaria and Dusty, share knowing looks and giggle while whispering to each other, attracting attention from the trio. Their untouched food abandoned on the table. Nails tapping against the surface, punctuating each sentence whispered by Aquaria. Chairs scooted close together, creating their own little bubble.

A pointed look from A’keria lands in Vanessa’s direction, silently urging her to finally say something - tired of just watching. Before another elbow can land in her ribcage, she decides to raise her voice and hollers across the small table, gaining attention from Monét and Nina as well. “Hey, Mary! Are you spilling the tea from the party last night?” Hands clasped together as she expectantly eyes the two.

“Ohh we just talked about Blair, finally saw her again last night after not talking for a while,” Dusty tries to brush her off, turning towards the raven haired girl by her side.

“The tall blonde?”

“Uhh yes. What about her?” Aquaria voices, confusion written between her furrowed brows. Eyes judgingly fixated on the brunette as she twirls her hair around her finger.

“Did she maybe-”

“Did she drunkenly make out with Vanjie?” Silky bursts into the conversation, sick of Vanessa tiptoeing around the topic every single time. Leave it to Silky to confidently take the lead.

“Silk! We’ve talked about this!” Vanessa hisses, so furious she nearly knocks over a glass of water as her arms flair around her, hands tightly balled into fists.

“Yes. You are incapable of properly investigating people, so I am taking over. Thank me later!”

Vanessa looks expectantly at A’keria, silently begging her to say something. Suddenly incapable of sticking up for herself. Within a moment embarrassment overtakes her, letting her shoulders slump down, getting smaller and smaller as rose petals paint her cheeks bright red.

A'keria simply clicks her tongue as she shakes her head at the girl to her left side, properly setting down her cutlery before making her point. “Ohh no honey, don’t look at me like that. Silky is right and both of us know that.”

Aquaria and Dusty glance at each other, signs of confusion written all over their faces. Both shrugging their shoulders at the scene, not necessarily knowing when or how to interfere.

The two women continue to bicker back and forth, blaming the other for their failure. Frustration leaking out of their souls, extended claws and fiery spirits, while voices aren’t the only thing being raised. After silently watching this train wreck happening, Dusty finally attempts to cut the tension. A loud cough gains the others’ attention before she simply mentions that Blair has a boyfriend, trying to distract the women from their on-going feud.

“That doesn’t mean anything bitch. That one time I dated a guy, we were pretty serious, and I still somehow ended up in bed with a kitten after a long night of partying!“

“This isn’t relevant right now Silky!” Vanessa interferes, still annoyed by the whole ordeal.

“Anyways. I set my bet on this Blair bitch!"

A’keria simply shakes her head, apologizing to Aquaria and Dusty for taking up their time and tries to come up with an intervention for the two frustrated women, still going at each other like wild chicken.

“Let’s get some dessert, hoes. Maybe your future wife loves chocolate mousse.”

At the mention of dessert Silky and Vanessa suddenly forget what they were arguing about, eyes widening at the mention of sweets - now dreaming about the colorful and sickening dessert selection of the cafeteria. With new found elation they grab their plates and return them to the dirty dishes collection, before making their way over to the dessert section.

“Aren’t they talking about Brooke?” Monét voices her thoughts after the trio was finally out of sight. Her voice dripping with genuine curiosity. Head rested on her right hand, elbow supported by the table.

“They probably are,” Nina chuckles. Still not over what she just witnessed.

“Should we let them known?” Monét wonders, for once not sure if she can find any enjoyment in having to deal with a frustrated Vanjie. Her almond eyes trailing over the seats they just sat in.

“I don’t know, it’s more fun watching them try to figure it out.”

The rest of the table nods in agreement, before erupting into giggles, seemingly enjoying the show. But as the trio makes their way across the room, the laughter coming from the table is completely lost in the bustle of the dining hall, hidden in a sea of students and employees.

“Blair isn’t the mysterious blond,” Vanjie simply mentions once stood in front of the chocolate desserts, staring down the selection of sweets with utter concentration.

"How do you know?” Silky asks in a way too challenging tone for A'keria’s liking, the silent woman already mentally preparing for another fight.

“I met her at a seminar a few months ago. She is really nice - but not my mistletoe lady.” The brunette sighs deeply, too exhausted to give into the temptation of once again letting out her frustration on her best friend.

"Damn it! I genuinely thought we had a breakthrough."

Their motivation shrinks with each passing second as the dream of success seems even farther away. All three women slowly but surely accepting defeat as they run out of ideas, lost minds running in circles, grasping at straws that are no more.

Maybe it simply isn’t meant to be.

"So what are you planning on doing now?” A'keria asks, ready to get back to the front desk, longing to spend the rest of the day in peace, already tired of her friends’ shenanigans.

"I don’t know. Our lunch break will be over soon, so-” Vanessa rubs the back of her neck as she looks around, as if the mysterious blond could pop up out of nowhere all of a sudden.

Silently, all three grab a cup filled with mousse au chocolat, before they slowly make their way back to the office complex. Tired feet drag across the ground as disappointed figures move through the halls, avoiding conversations with students like the plague. Each of them keeping to themselves while the brunette falls behind, observing the crowd around her.

As Silky licks her spoon clean, Kameron and Asia turn the corner of the hallway, right in front of Silky’s and Vanessa’s shared office, finally catching the women they’ve been looking for.

“There you bitches are! I’ve heard you’re looking for Vanjie’s drunken hookup?” Asia asks with a smirk and raised brows. Hand on her hips, prepared to be a part of this spectacle.

“Silkyyyyy!” Vanessa’s voice nothing more than a childish whine at this point. Pained doe eyes stare down her best friends as she rolls up the sleeves of her shirt, shifting her leg from side to side.

“It wasn’t me,” Silky swears, fist raised above her heart.

A’keria rolls her eyes before she raises her voice. “I actually told them, couldn’t you hear you complain anymore.” She waves them off with a quick hand movement.

“Anyway, I am pretty sure I know who you are talking about,” Kameron voices, keeping her tone as mysterious as she can without breaking into a knowing smile.

“Biiiiitch! You better not be playing,” Vanessa hollers excitedly, dragging out the first syllable as a grin stretches across her lips.

Asia’s lips curl up into a shit-eating grin as she briefly glances over at Kameron, then looks back at Vanessa. “Mysterious, tall blonde who gives off serious cold-hearted bitch vibes?” Asia asks, her arms crossing over her chest as her gaze flits between the three women opposite her.

Vanessa eagerly nods in response, almost perfectly in sync with Silky. A’keria looks vaguely interested, her eyebrow raised, despite Vanessa knowing she really doesn’t care all that much about the wild goose hunt they were on.

Kameron lets out a short laugh before speaking, clearly amused by the whole situation. “Sounds like Detox if you ask me.”

From the way Asia’s face quickly contorts with confusion, Vanessa can tell that the two are very much not on the same page about who her mystery girl might be.

“Detox?” Asia repeats, her voice higher than before, riddled with disbelief. “Bitch, Detox left early for her dick appointment. Ain’t no way in hell it was her!”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t sound like D to make out with someone under some mistletoe before leaving to go hook up with someone,” Kameron counters, rolling her eyes at her friends. “Besides, who the hell else would it be? Detox is the only tall bitchy-looking blonde I know of on this damn campus.”

Despite the fact that Kameron and Asia can’t seem to make up their minds about Detox, Vanessa feels hopeful. Something about Kameron’s words excite her, make her feel like maybe they’re finally onto something. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll find her mystery blonde by the end of the day after all.

While Kameron and Asia are still bickering, Vanessa yells out a quick thank you to them both, then takes off toward her office without any further hesitation. Her mind reeling with possibilities, but all of them coming back to the idea that maybe Detox was her mistletoe blonde from the previous night.

She has to find out, which is exactly why she plans to look Detox up in the directory and call her the moment she sits back down at her desk.

Before she gets to relish in the glory of being one step closer to finally getting to know her Christmas lady, she is met with her not so impressed boss leaning against her desk. Blue suit, black dress shoes and a bored look plastered on his face.

The brunette abruptly comes to a halt the moment she steps through the door - a quiet “shit” leaving her lips, before she attempts to pull off her best professional smile.

“Ms. Mateo?” Mr. Charles’s voice is nearly as serious as his appearance as he pushes himself off the desk, moving closer to her.

“Yes?” Vanessa hurriedly replies as she rushes into the room, dropping her purse onto her desk and setting down her still untouched mousse au chocolat before turning around to face her boss again.

Nervously awaiting a lecture of some sort, she mentally runs over all the ways she had fucked up - not only today, but all the mischief she managed the entire last month. Showing up late, gossiping with Silky for hours on end instead of working on her reports, jokingly telling a student that “C’s get degrees” and not to worry about a failed exam, calling in sick so she could visit Disneyland with A’keria and Silky, recommending a student reconsider if college was the best option for them, and other obscure things she was currently unable to recall. Blood red fingernails drum against her desk as she expectantly stares at her boss, holding back from apologizing immediately.

“It has come to my attention that a lot of students have taken up your offer to join the mental well being week. This actually kept me thinking. So I was wondering if you would feel confident in organising such a week twice a semester?”

The brunette’s mouth slightly falls open while she silently stares at her counterpart, simply blinking for a second before she even has the chance of gathering her thoughts.

“Uhh-ooh. Yes sir. Definitely, no problem at all - would loved to.” Words pouring out of her mouth without any filter, her mind stuck like a record playing on loop.

“Good to hear. This will of course include a raise, to further discuss this I would like to see you Monday in my office, 10 a.m. sharp.”

Vanessa simply nodded along, desperately trying not scream her excitement.

“I’ll see you Monday, then. Have a good day, Ms. Mateo.”

The man in the blue tux moves towards exit in a fast stride, never looking back.

“You too, Mr. Charles!” Vanessa adds the moment her boss turns the corner, not even catching the brunette’s reply.

With a relieved chuckle Vanessa lets herself fall into her office chair once her boss is completely out of sight. She spins around in her chair - once, twice - before she logs into her computer with a slight smile, seriously unable to believe her luck.

She needs three attempts before she gets her password right, struggling to keep the combination of nervous and excited energy from getting to her. Her eyes impatiently stare at the loading sign in front of her as shaky hands reach for her phone - craving any distraction from her restless mind. No - she needs to focus.

The rush of a promised raise and the prosperity of finally talking to her mistletoe lady again makes her heart sore, flying to cloud nine while her stomach keeps turning like a merry go around.

The moment her desktop comes back to life she swiftly opens a browser, while her fingers dash across the keyboard as she opens the directory, looking for a certain Detox. Eyes scanning the site for a search bar. Another three attempts before she spells her potential mistletoe lady’s name right.

Within a second of hitting enter, the contact information turns up. A few seconds later and the phone in her hand is already ringing, her fingertips working on their own accord, waiting for who she hopes is her mysterious blonde to finally pick up on the other side of the line.

Her mind not fully processing what is happening - as if her brain has been stuck on the first episode of some trashy competition show while her body is already preparing for the season finale.

The moment the ringing stops, both Vanessa and the woman on the other side of the line hold their breath for a second. Neither knowing what to say.

“Hello?” the woman in question finally raises her voice, seemingly confused.

“Ohh, yes. This is Vanessa, am I talking to Detox?” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she picks up a random pen on her desk, twirling it between her fingertips. She can feel her heart pounding, as if she had just run a marathon.

“Yes. Do I know you?”

“Uhhh - well, yes. We met at the employee christmas party yesterday!”

The brunette subconsciously drawing hearts into her notebook while she tries to anything in her her prower to prevent her heart from jumping out of her chest.

“Did we? I don’t remember meeting a Vanessa if I remember correctly.”

There they go, all of her hopes jumping right out of the window. Her stomach sinks, and she tries to fight off the feeling of disappointment threatening to consume her.

“I mean we got pretty wasted before we kissed under the mistletoe, boo so-”

“Babe, I am pretty sure you are at the wrong address. I left the party pretty sober and fairly early for a dick appointment.” Vanessa hears a slight chuckle coming from the other end of the line, one that only confuses her, her eyebrows furrowing together.

“Ohh shit, that can’t be true, Mary! Are you sure?”

Vanessa slams down her fist in frustration, hissing slightly as her hand collides with the hard wood of her desk.

“One hundred percent certain, love. But why did you think it is me?”

“Well, I talked to some people and Kameron insisted, quote unquote, you are the only tall bitchy-looking blonde she knows of on this damn campus, soo, I had hoped, you know…”

“Tall, bitchy-looking blonde kissing someone under the mistletoe and never telling them her name? Kinda sounds like Brooke if you ask me.”

“Huh?”

“Brooke Lynn Hytes. She is one of my colleagues, a fabulous researcher and quite frankly a bitch who I adore way too much. So she might be your best bet, ‘cause it seriously sounds like something she would do. Would love to tell you more about her but I need to prepare for a study, but don’t hesitate to look for her! Bye.”

Before Vanessa can even get another word in the line falls dead, leaving Vanessa even more confused than she was before. Her head falls into her hands, phone dropping onto her marked up desk.

Brooke Lynn Hytes, researcher. Brooke Lynn Hytes, researcher.

Where has she heard that name before?

All of a sudden her head snaps back up, eyes wide open, finally remembering.

Nina. She remembers hearing Nina talk about her friend Brooke, and knows immediately that if anyone would know how to find Brooke, it would be Nina.

Without a second thought, she raises from her armchair, pushing it back and letting it crash into the heater, and rushes out of her office complex. Her heels click against the floor in a hurried pace, darting through the halls while attempting not to collide with anyone. She’s on a mission, with only one thought running through her brain.

Once the brunette leaves her building behind, she completely accepts her fate as a mad woman and starts running across campus. Wavy hair carried by the wind, as her heart isn’t the only thing that leaps forward. Expectations spin around her head, creating a movie-like scene in her head. The woman reaches her destination within 15 minutes - a new record, stopping for a second outside the research complex, slightly panting.

Now all she needs to do is find Nina’s office - not that she’s ever been there before.

Luckily the lady at the frontdesk hasn’t gone home just yet. Like a cat eyeing its prey, Vanessa stalks towards the woman, greeting her with a cheshire cat grin.

“Excuse me, could you maybe tell me where Nina West’s office is?”

“It’s on the second floor, but that won’t help much since she left over an hour ago already,” the redhead replies, her voice lower than Vanessa had expected. Boredom dripping out of her figure.

“Fuck!” Vanessa curses, before slurrying a thank you to the woman and slowly backing out of the complex.

It’s nearly five p.m., almost time to go home for the day, and Vanessa feels defeated as she shuffles down the sidewalk. Her whole day feels like a waste, chasing down dead-end leads only to still not find her damn mystery woman. What good does it do if she has a name, but can’t put a face to the name? For all she knows, finding Brooke could be just like her phone call with Detox - another name crossed off the list with no end in sight.

Sure, she could call Nina to ask about Brooke, but it feels pointless to think about. Everything feels pointless. She’s tired, her feet hurt, and more than anything else, she just wants to go home.

She sighs as she makes her way back across campus, the cold air nipping at her face. After a couple minutes, she mumbles a soft fuck it under her breath and pauses to take her heels off. She’s given up on wearing shoes, deciding she would rather walk barefoot than finish her trek across campus in heels.

It’s getting dark out, a fact that makes Vanessa want to curse out loud as the sidewalk lights begin to turn on all around campus. Around her, students briskly walk past on their way home, finished with classes for the day. It’s a Friday, so she won’t see any of them again until the following Monday when finals week begins.

It’s a bittersweet moment for her.

Vanessa can’t seem to shake the upset feeling that forms a lump in her stomach, disappointed that Brooke had been nowhere to be found when she booked it across campus to the lab she worked in. She nearly allows her disappointment to overshadow the fact that the Secret Santa gift exchange her coworkers organized is happening soon, the thought long forgotten throughout the day.

This is the first year they had all decided to hold the gift exchange the day after their holiday party. It made more sense, really, since the holiday party is just an excuse for most people to eat, dance, and drink without a care in the world.

Lucky for Vanessa, she had drawn Silky’s name a few weeks ago when they announced the Secret Santa for the year. All she has to do once she gets back to the office is grab the gift she has stashed in the locked drawer of her desk and give it to her friend, then she’s done for the day. Whoever her Secret Santa is has probably given up on trying to catch her during the day, Vanessa having spent too much time running around the campus to stay in one spot long enough to receive her gift.

Except when Vanessa walks back into her office just before five, she’s surprised to see someone perched upon the edge of her desk. Blonde hair falls around the woman’s face in effortless waves, blocking her face from Vanessa’s view. Her legs are crossed, hands folded in her lap as she glances over at the clock above A’keria’s desk. Vanessa’s eyes dart to that side of the room, and she swears she’s never been so grateful for her friends leaving work early on a Friday.

When the blonde looks over at Vanessa, she swears her heart nearly stops beating. She immediately recognizes the woman from the night before, green eyes luring her in the same way they had when she spotted her by the mistletoe. This couldn’t be possible.

Except it is. Vanessa’s mistletoe mystery woman is right in front of her, a small box wrapped in sparkly gold paper sitting beside her on Vanessa’s desk.

Their eyes lock, and Vanessa feels weak in her knees as the blonde flashes her a smile.

“And here I was worried you’d already left for the day,” the blonde states, letting out a soft laugh as she pushes herself up from the desk. “Detox told me you were looking for me; figured I’d swing by before you went home, but you weren’t here. Your friends were though, one of them wouldn’t stop screaming when I told her who I was.”

Damn it, Silky, Vanessa thinks to herself. But the thought passes as quickly as it pops into her head, instead the realization hits her that this is Brooke, who is also her Secret Santa from the looks of things. Could this day get any better?

“Hello? Everything alright?” Brooke asks after a minute, her eyebrows furrowing together in concern. Vanessa quickly snaps herself out of her train of thought, taking a couple steps towards Brooke as she nods her head.

“Mhm. Been looking for you all damn day,” Vanessa replies, flashing her a smile. She’s still in a state of disbelief, shocked that after running all over campus, Brooke is finally standing in front of her, looking just as beautiful as she had the night before.

“I could say the same about you,” Brooke quips back, smiling back at Vanessa in a way that makes Vanessa’s heart start pounding in her chest. More than ever, she’s grateful her friends aren’t around, knowing how much they would tease her over this. “I pulled your name for Secret Santa, I’ve been trying to give you your gift all day.”

“Well, I’m here now.” Vanessa watches in anticipation as Brooke picks up the gold box, carefully handing it over to Vanessa, sending a jolt of electricity up her arm as their hands brush against each other lightly.

She wants to curse at herself for acting like some lovesick puppy, but she can’t help it. Even though she had been drunk the night before and forgot to ask her name, there was no denying the instant connection she had felt with Brooke. There was no denying the sparks that were ignited when they kissed.

Vanessa bites her bottom lip lightly, doing her best to hide her nerves, as she carefully tears the wrapping paper and opens the box. Inside is a little sprig of mistletoe, and upon seeing it, Vanessa immediately glances up at Brooke in confusion. Could this mean what she thinks it means?

Vanessa can see the way Brooke’s cheeks redden a bit as she picks up the mistletoe, holding it up over their heads, and she swears she could die happy right then and there. She takes another step toward Brooke, closing some of the distance between them as the blonde grins at her.

“Oh, more mistletoe,” Brooke whispers, leaning in slowly. “I guess I’ll just-” Her words are cut off by an impatient Vanessa, who surges up onto her tiptoes to press her lips against Brooke’s eagerly.

If the kiss the previous night sent sparks flying, this one feels more like a symphony of fireworks being ignited. Her body feels light, the world around her fades away and all she can focus on is Brooke, who inevitably drops the mistletoe to wrap her arms securely around Vanessa’s waist. Brooke’s touch is delicate but strong, enough to make Vanessa’s head spin, and she has to grip Brooke’s shoulders to keep herself from feeling like she might float away at any given moment. The kiss is soft, gentle - a stark contrast to the messy, heated one they shared the night before.

Vanessa knows immediately that this kiss is worth all the insanity she had to deal with during the day. All the walking she did and all the interrogations Silky helped her with lead up to this moment, one Vanessa knew she would never forget.

She isn’t sure which one of them breaks the kiss, both of them slowly pulling back at the same time to catch their breath. Vanessa’s heart skips a beat as Brooke grins at her once more, her arms not leaving Vanessa’s waist.

“You know,” Vanessa starts, looking up at her with a cheeky smile. “You could’ve at least taken me out on a date first.” This earns her a laugh from Brooke, a laugh that makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. She could get used to the sound of Brooke’s laugh, she thinks to herself.

“How about we get dinner, say, now?” Brooke suggests, her eyes scanning Vanessa’s face as she bites at her bottom lip nervously. It’s Vanessa’s turn to laugh now, nodding her head as she does so, trying to ease Brooke’s nerves.

“I’d like that,” Vanessa murmurs, finally removing herself from Brooke’s grasp to grab her jacket and purse off the back of her chair. “Let’s go.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #silky nutmeg ganache #akeria davenport #nina west #monet x change #branjie #fluff #lesbian au #holiday #christmas #hy jinkx #dreamyunicorngirl #concrit welcome #submission #s11

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