#anyway this prompt came because it's been a year since i had my fire training lmao

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Agent Rushmore (CH 4)

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 1094

Warning: Mild language, violence, gore, guns, fluff, smut, angst, PTSD, graphic scenes…

Prompt: Special Agent Locklyn Rushmore, a highly trained Russian assassin who is skilled in all forms of hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, negotiating and more. When her cover is blown, she is returning back to NCIS headquarters in D.C…

Locklyn Rushmore POV

I yawn, laying my head back on the towel. I was laying on one of the autopsy tables, trying to take a nap. Gibbs and his team were going to go gather the files of the ten federal agents we narrowed it down to.

There wasn't much I could do. I was on strict orders to stay in autopsy because the bulletproof windows weren't fully installed yet. I find myself curling into a ball as I lay on my side.

I close my eyes, hating the eerie silence in here. Palmer and Ducky had gone to Abby's lab to give me some time to be alone. I didn't want to be alone though. I don't think anyone understood that.

I find myself lulling to sleep. It was the worst kind of sleep you could get. An in between sleep. My hand was on my gun and I was alert of my surroundings.

"She's perfect, isn't she?" Kenzo asks.

His fingers were stroking through my hair, but I feigned sleep. I could feel his eyes on me. I knew someone else was in the room.

"Beautiful, yes. But, can she be apart of this family?" A deep voice asks.

"Yes, papa. She can. She's perfect for me. And if she isn't, I'll handle her. Trust me. She's the one." Kenzo says.

I stir and I hear a door open before closing. I slowly open my eyes, meeting Kenzo's green ones. He's smiles, however I jump away from him, scooting as far as the bed allowed me.

"Relax Svetlana, your safe. Now, you have two options. One, willingly get to know me and become my fiancé. Two, willingly get to know me and become my fiancé." He says.

"Those are the same things, mudaka! Let me go." I growl.

"Oh Svetlana, I love the fire that burns in you. It intrigues me. But, I can't let you go. You'll be my fiancé. Or you'll die. Pick wisely, bambina." He says.

My eyes snap open and I click the safety off, pointing the gun. Gibbs quirks a brow, nodding slightly.

"I'm impressed. It's just me." He says.

I click the safety on, slowly setting the gun down before pulling myself up to a seating position.

"Sorry, boss." I say.

"Rule six, don't ever say sorry." He says.

I nod, pursing my lips. There are rules. Interesting.

"What's up? Or do you casually like to watch women sleep?" I tease and he chuckles.

"I came down to check up on you. But, you pulled your gun on me before I could leave seeing as you were sleeping." He says.

"A force of habit I learned was to be in an in between sleep whilst undercover." I explain.

"A good habit. Locklyn, if you ever need to talk, I'm here to listen. Going undercover isn't easy as it is. And for how long you've been undercover, makes it ever harder." He says.

"Thanks, Gibbs. I appreciate it." I say.

"Your family now." He says.

"I'm still stuck in here, aren't I?" I ask.

"They're getting closer to finishing the windows." He says, chuckling.

His silver hair and blue eyes already have dragged me down. I've never seen a pair of blue eyes like his. I wet my lips, letting out a deep breath.

"I can't wait for all this to blow over." I grumble.

He nods, studying me. I let him, not having anything to hide. I was tired of hiding. I wanted to be seen.

"Have you talked with a shrink yet?" He asks.

"Jen got me out of that. I would have just lied anyway. I don't like shrinks. Kudos for the work they do, but if I'm going to talk...it's going to be someone I know and trust. Not someone who looks at me as another case." I say and he snorts.

"Your stubborn." He says.

"Maybe. Maybe not. You've studied me ever since I stepped foot back in NCIS headquarters. Tell me, what have you gathered about me?" I ask, slowly strolling around the room.

"You've been alone for years and now you want someone...to be there...to listen to you...to comfort you. You want a family—whether it be a work family or an actually family. You want to be happy and you are trying hard to find yourself. Being undercover has mixed your identities together." He says.

"Hm, I'm impressed. I didn't take you to be a profiler. I am a profiler and I missed that detail about you." I say.

"And what have you gathered about me, Rushmore?" He asks, watching me.

"Hm...married a few times. How could a woman resist you? However, your divorced—several times maybe. A family man...but something happened. Something bad...something that haunts you. It's something you feel guilty for although it was out of your control, wasn't it? Yeah, I can tell by that face it was. You don't necessarily like people. You find peace in your home, whether it be alone or with a friend. You aren't a man of much words. You analyze. Hmm...you work with your hands. A hobby? Or a side-job maybe? Your type in woman is red heads. I've noticed you staring at me since I've entered. You also are more of ass man, am I wrong?" I ask and he chuckles.

"No. How have you gathered that without hardly looking at me?" He asks.

"I'm a profiler. That's why the FBI wants me so bad. But, I prefer NCIS." I say.

The doors open and we both look over to see the team enter. I watch Director Shepard break through and she quirks a brow at me.

"I see you two are getting along. I was nervous." She admits.

"I'm not one to bite on their first days." Gibbs says and I smirk.

"I'm not one to deny a bite from a good-looking man, Gibbs. In fact, I might have my own bite." I say, smirking and he grins.

"He head slaps. Be safe." Tony says.

"I like to break noses and face consequences later." I say, shrugging.

"Don't make my life a living hell having to cover for you, Lock." Director Shepard sighs.

"I'll try to control my urges, Director. No promises. I've done well the past five years. Actually...never mind. I haven't." I mumble.

"I can't say I'm surprised." She chuckles.

"In my defense, mafia men are sleezy. If anyone thinks they can grab my ass without permission, that is where they are wrong." I say.

[beevean]

Hector and/or Isaac x Trevor + Family :)

... so I'm going to actually follow the prompt for once and not write a short story lol. i apologize, creative juices be drying up.

All three boys have a complicated family history. Trevor was the luckiest one in this department: he and his family were shunned by other people for their powers, but at least he still had one. He inherited the Vampire Killer and was trained as a vampire hunter with the same teachings passed on since Leon's times: he deeply feels kinship with his clan name. And then, he finds himself close-knit friends: he marries one of them to have his own family, and we can assume Grant stuck around as a family friend. Yes, he was very lucky :)

Hector and Isaac, of course, weren't. We don't know much about Isaac's parents and what motivated him to run away, but we know that Hector was rejected by his own parents, painfully too. In short, both of them found a new family in Dracula's castle: Dracula himself and each other, at the very least. Perhaps Lisa and Adrian too.

Isaac was content with his new home. Hector was not. Hector chose to put himself and his morals above the person who welcomed in, and was ready to face a life of isolation, or even death. In the meantime, he also ripped Isaac's home away from him.

Instead he found Rosaly, and for a while, they formed a small family: either just the two of them, or them and a bunch of orphaned children Rosaly took care of lol. But it was enough for Hector, who had finally found his place.

Yeah :)

Isaac, on the other hand... well, he's not exactly one for normal relationships lol. He seems to be most comfortable in a hierarchy, serving someone (Dracula) and commanding others (his Devils). In fact, I'd say that, during those years Hector was living the good domestic life with Rosaly, Isaac's only family were his own Devils, whom he sees as his children. His own creations, who do everything he says and who kill for him: that's all he needs.

But he also has a sister. And we can speculate all day about Julia, and what happened between them. My headcanon is that Isaac tormented Julia when they were children like the little angry bully that he is lol, but when it came to anyone else, he was a violently protective brother who would beat anyone who dared to make her cry. In fact, maybe Isaac ran away to protect her :) but then Julia was not accepted in the castle, perhaps because her powers were deemed too weak or useless. I hope she found a group of witches to welcome her.

(I also headcanon that they have the same father, but not mother, which would complicate even more their family situation and Isaac's feelings of being rejected and the "other" one lol)

Anyway, even if Isaac survived the events of CoD, I doubt he'd be remotely willing to live with Julia again. That bridge has been burned by that point, Julia gave Hector her blessings to kill him, Isaac apparently avoided her after the fall of Dracula's castle. Isaac isn't even the type to have a heart-to-heart with anyone, let alone feel guilty for what he did. He'd leave the country and maybe live a life of bloody fights until someone finally, finally mercy kills him.

Hector, on the other hand... well, you know I don't like the idea of him staying with Julia lol. Too much baggage. But you know who'd be more than happy to welcome him as yet another member of his family?

Trevor :) Trevor would absolutely give him a place where he can live in peace, like he has always wanted since he was a child. As good fire-forged friends :) (and help with the kids is always welcome lol)

[shoutingdeku]

Ok but what about an au where Todoroki is the fireman????

I mean yeah sure we love rich boy shouto, but imagine Rei split from Endeavor and they led a normal life and somehow Shouto ended up being a firefighter. Maybe he's a volunteer??

My point is: firefighter Shouto who is the reason policeman Izuku keeps getting in trouble because when the police needs help, who's going to save them if not the firemen???

Katsuki is his partner and he laughs at izuku until kirishima appears

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

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the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[whetstonefires]

heavier than a mountain, lighter than a feather

[my take on @misskirby's not-prompt about obi-wan beating palpatine to death with an office chair]

-

Obi-Wan had once touched the cold-burning edge of the Dark Side to give himself the extra edge he needed to cut down the Sith who had cut down his Master. He had fought with rage pushing him, he had fought with all the fear that Qui-Gon lay expiring on the reactor floor, that he might yet win and find himself seconds too late to bring the emergency med-treatment necessary to survive a lightsaber to the chest.

(Not that it had mattered; all he’d gotten from his desperate, hasty win was a few seconds of farewell bereft of comfort, and the burden of Anakin hung around his neck, and oh, he wished his padawan was not a burden. There had been no option but to take him and thus taking him must have been right, but no one should take on a student they did not feel ready for, and he had.)

If he had fought that way this time, he would have lost.

The Sith Master would have done what the apprentice could not, and twisted the Dark Side within him as it rose, and snared him in it, so he could not find his way back to the Light, and used that grip to bear him down with Sidious’ greater power, because the Sith said the Force will free me but it was the way of the Dark to place one will over another by pure force, so even what narrow freedom there was on the dark path was offered to one alone. Even in the best case, he would have been overwhelmed too heavily to fight for more than long enough to finish him.

Perhaps he would not have been killed. Perhaps he would have been kept alive to be used as leverage against Anakin. But assuredly he would not have been able to win.

Obi-wan however had what he would have thought of, if he had allowed himself to think about it, a trick for using his attachments and the desire not to lose them as fuel without reaching into the destabilizing, consuming whirlwind of the Dark Side. It was a dangerous, stupid trick, really, at least the way he used it, although Obi-wan thought of that way as fundamental to being a good Jedi, which would have explained a great deal about him if anyone had known.

The trick was this: it was easy to push yourself to where your limits should have been and beyond using your attachment to a person, without falling into the hungry selfishness of the Dark Side, if you simply did not intend to survive.

When he was thirteen, he had tried to persuade Qui-Gon Jinn, who had not yet been his Master, to use the bomb in his recently fitted slave-collar to blow open a door, killing Obi-wan but allowing him complete the mission, which was not Obi-wan’s mission

It was not difficult to return to that place, that space in himself where serenity came easy because soon there would be nothing left to go wrong or to lose—Anakin had made it difficult, for a long time; Anakin he was obliged to raise and train. Anakin who needed him.

All his obligation to the war and the Council and all the men under his command had not pinned him to himself the way his duty to Anakin had, and—knighting him had been helpful. It had been a relief, to finally cast off that weight. There is no death, there is the Force was much easier to believe of oneself than of those one grieved, and some weeks Obi-wan breathed it in and out with every breath, and there was no fear.

He knew several things, as he entered the Senate through an entrance that was technically, perhaps, a window. One that did not open, at that. That the Chancellor had some kind of failsafe embedded in the GAR’s brains. That the Chancellor was a Sith Lord. That the Chancellor had been using his access to Anakin all these years to hurt his Padawan.

That if he took the time to assemble the rest of the Council and try to stage this as a proper arrest, word would have time to reach Palpatine of Obi-wan having been publicly informed, because Maul was the least subtle sentient Obi-wan had ever had the misfortune of meeting more than once, and that if Palpatine knew the jig was up he would use his fail-safe.

So Obi-wan needed to do this alone.

It was possible, of course, that it wouldn’t be difficult. Sidious was a creature of stealth and insinuation. He spent most hours of his life maintaining a posture of harmlessness. When could he have found the time to do regular lightsaber drills, let alone practice live combat?

But Maul probably feared the man for a reason. So Obi-wan was going to do this as quickly as possible, but he wasn’t going to be hasty.

Spring the trap.

He’d closed himself down in the Force before he got near the Senate building, jumping through the hole he’d sliced into the window with only his physical strength and no Jedi edge, and only when he got near the Chancellor’s office did he reopen his senses just a thread, to make sure there was no one in there meeting with Palpatine whom he needed to keep alive. The Force didn’t slam into him with a warning, which would have to be confirmation enough.

Obi-wan yanked the door open, hurled five primed thermal detonators in the direction of the great ship-like slab of an occupied desk, slammed the ornate portal shut again, and threw himself to the ground at the foot of the wall, as far away as he could get, head tucked under his arms. He was fairly sure he’d seen Mas Amedda in there, standing beside the desk as the Chancellor in his thronelike chair raised his head with a gratifyingly startled look on his face.

Pity. The Vice-Chancellor could probably have explained so much of what had been going on behind the scenes, all this time.

The blast left the office door half-shattered, belching smoke, but Obi-wan escaped with just one splinter, not terribly large, in the back of one calf. His robes and boots had absorbed the rest of the shrapnel that had made it that far. He tugged it out as he got up—no time to do anything more, it wasn’t bleeding much. He drew a deep breath of half-clean corridor air and dashed into the opaque ruin that had been the Chancellor’s office, senses fully unfurled now that the time for stealth was over. Though in the interest of not being an irresistible target, he did not ignite his lightsaber just yet.

The Force guided him through the smoke, and he brought his sword to light even as he swung it through the murk.

It stopped, humming, against a bar of red light that hissed into being at the last instant, and that felt equally inevitable.

“You.” Sheev Palpatine’s face looked like a Sith Lord’s now, twisted with hate and lit red from below. And, gratifyingly, somewhat scorched. His hair had sizzled from the heat, and his left arm seemed to have something at least mildly wrong with it. Obi-wan hoped the explosions had affected at least one of his legs, as well, since his own maneuverability was cut by the shard of door to the calf.

“Me indeed, Chancellor,” he said, taking advantage of his two-handed grip to bear down against the block with extra force. Palpatine bore up admirably, but as his snarl tightened it was clear that it was not without cost. “Or should I say, Lord Sidious?”

The smoke was starting to thin, leaking away out of the shattered room. Sidious was still behind his ruined desk with its weakly sparking console, which seemed to have taken much of the impact for him—he was standing, anyway, sadly. Mas Amedda’s corpse, on the far end of the desk from the one Obi-wan had circumnavigated, was one of the things that was still smoking. Most of the brocade and other decorative fabric in the room must have been thoroughly treated with fire-retardant, but he had not been.

“I thought you might have learned my true name,” Palpatine said, far too complacently for someone whose long deception had been uncovered and who was staving off death one-handed. “But what brought you racing here in such haste?”

“Well, you see, they used to call me Sith-killer because of Maul, and since that’s been proven regrettably in error, I thought I had better—” Sidious tried to fling him back against the opposite wall with a sharp jerk of his wounded hand, and Obi-wan had to push back with the whole of his will and stance to slide back only a few feet.

This had freed their lightsabers, though, and Sidious chopped low with a terrible speed. Obi-wan leapt clear, knowing the blood soaking into the pale fabric of his pants was betraying the weakness in his leg—Anakin had had a point, he admitted grudgingly, about black hiding all kinds of stains.

For better and for worse.

He tried to catch Sidious with an overhead slash while he was up, to keep that red lightsaber busy for the most part, and when it was intercepted used the force of that impact to somersault back in a momentary return to his master’s old Ataru style—not too far, though, at all costs he must prevent the Sith Master’s escape.

Sidious wouldn’t need to get far, just to a room with a working holo transmitter, to destroy everything.

He flung himself back in.

Palpatine sidestepped his next attack, parried another, stepped back with the third. His single arm was telling against him, and while he was regrettably fast his movements were stiff enough that he had clearly taken at least one other hurt. Probably somewhere in the right hip. Obi-wan stayed on the offensive—it was how he’d beaten Maul, after all, though he was at pains to avoid overreaching to the point of recreating Anakin’s loss to Dooku.

His attacks did more damage to the sparking desk, bisected the thronelike monstrosity of a chair, which turned out under all the gilt, padding, and chromium to be mostly of durasteel, got close enough to put additional charred rents in Palpatine’s ornate sleeves. Nearly a minute had passed since he threw those detonators, and Sidious was still alive. Too long.

“Really,” said the politician, dropping his stance to one that would allow him to parry more from the shoulder, his first hint of fatigue. His style was not quite Makashi even as he adapted to the one-handed approach that was clearly not his preference, but there were some notes to it that rang so strongly of Dooku they could come from nowhere else. “What do you hope to achieve?”

“You won’t have Anakin,” Obi-wan said, the plot that had been in retrospect laid so horribly bare with just a few sentences from Maul, supported by a few more from some of their most trusted troopers, put together with a hundred hints and oddities and he should have guessed on his own.

Sidious grinned, the amiable wrinkles of his face lying deeper and more correct, somehow, in this attitude of wild, infinite gloating. “Possessiveness, Master Jedi?”

“No,” said Obi-wan, and it was true because he had given Anakin up, given everything up before he came here. He was holding onto nothing, he was an object in free-fall but not falling, because he was at exactly the right place and momentum at the outer edge of a gravity well that would let him remain at a constant height.

Orbits degraded, given time, if not carefully maintained. And if they were disrupted sharply enough it meant a violent, flaming spiral down into explosive doom, or sometimes out into the fathomless dark. This was not a true, secure serenity like a Jedi should strive for. But it would serve. For today, it would serve.

He fell on Sidious again in a flurry of blows, pushing his physical advantage, but although the Chancellor was clearly straining to keep up this defense, his stamina continued to fail to run out or even noticeably decline, as though he had learned to subsist on some constant well of the Force alone.

Probably he had, because it was welling up out of him, filling the room, an endless pit of the Dark that had lain concealed like a trap under pinned canvas and scattered leaves all this time. He was drawing heavily upon the Dark Side now and that wasn’t precisely goodbut it was promising.

He was beginning to develop something that was not quite optimism or confidence but approached both by the time the progress of the humming, crashing process of the duel took them past the far end of the desk, back into sight of what had been Mas Amedda. Palpatine angled his next fractional retreat toward the corps, away from the cracked and blackened windows, avoiding the treacherous footing of a shattered vase that had probably been a valuable antique.

Obi-wan tried to take advantage of the change in angle in the next rapid, whirring clash of lightsabers.

Unlike every other time they had crossed blades this duel, Sidious simply—shut his off in the moment before contact.

Obi-wan had committed a little too much of his weight to the blow to abort it entirely. Sidious ducked away from the remainder with a sinuous grace even as he activated his weapon again, now on the inside of Obi-wan’s guard—trakata, executed with terrible excellence.

The need for the dodge was the trakata maneuver’s great weakness, and gave Obi-wan time to avoid the worst of the stroke, but even still the red lightsaber clipped him across the wrist—not a clean sweep slicing off the hand entire, but a glancing blow, that seared through the skin and flesh and took a significant bite out of the ulna.

Obi-wan didn’t try to repress his strangled scream, and Sidious leaned into it in the Force, pressing at the pain, stoking it and encouraging it to drag him down into the Dark, where he would be the Sith Master’s plaything. He was smirking now, more deeply and honestly than ever, a laugh rising into his mouth, for if Master Kenobi had had a slight edge in their fight with two hands to one, with the Jedi’s primary weapon-hand incapacitated, the Sith would surely dominate.

In that moment, Obi-wan moved to rebalance the odds. His blue lightsaber chopped down—not onto Sidious’ flesh, which it was clear he guarded with the preternatural awareness of a being whose own self was as valuable as all the Galaxy else, but to sheer through the emitter end of the crimson lightsaber.

It spat and burst but, unfortunately, tragically failed to explode.

As Sidious raised his eyes from the ruined weapon looking like he might explode in its place out of pure outrage, Obi-wan brought his sword back up to go for the decapitating blow now that the Sith had no weapon to block with, but in that moment Sidious’ burnt and broken hand jabbed up, and shot a gout of lightning into his face.

His back arced so violently it threw him off his feet, and it was all Obi-wan could do to keep hold of his lightsaber in his good hand and deactivate it as he went down, to avoid doing himself a worse injury than Sidious had yet managed. The lightning followed him down, scouring its way from just beside his left eye down every nerve ending he had in a screaming, jerking chorus of pain.

The deep lightsaber burn on his right wrist somehow hurt more now than it had to receive, but the force of his constant convulsions kept him from screaming again.

Then it stopped. He had no idea how long it had been, and wondered if Palpatine had become too fatigued to keep up the electrocution. There had to be a limit to how long he could maintain that kind of power output. His chest was heaving, trying with animal need to make up for lost oxygen. Smoke and the scent of dead Chagrian weighed down his sensory world, since his eyes declined to open and most of his body would only say pain.

The whisper of expensive Senate slippers crunched toward him over the rubble of the ruined office with a surefootedness that no one would have expected of the elderly Chancellor. At least he was still here; Obi-wan had angered him enough to bother sticking around to kill him rather than running off to activate the troops.

Or maybe he was confident he could spin this whole event to his benefit—Obi-wan had destroyed the security cameras that would have recorded his Sith activities, after all. Maybe he would say Master Kenobi had been tragically killed defending him from the dreadful Sith Lord. Maybe he would ask Anakin to become his constant protector in Obi-wan’s memory. Anakin would do it.

He was struggling to turn his lightsaber back on and raise it, though getting it between him and the next round of lightning seemed unlikely when he was exposed in a supine position, when Palpatine kicked it. Kicked his hand, actually, so hard at least one bone cracked and the lightsaber went flying.

This weapon is your life.

“Should I summon it back and use it to kill you?” Palpatine murmured, with a deadly, vicious good humor that suggested he knew very well Obi-wan had no backup coming, that the only interruption they could expect would be Commander Fox and his men in red, here to protect the Chancellor. “Or should I step on your throat until you breathe your last? Or should I keep you alive and put you on trial, and drag the name of the Jedi in the mud through you, so that when your Order falls it will be your name that the Galaxy uses to call the killing just?”

Horror twisted in Obi-wan’s chest and Palpatine chuckled, a whispering foul sound that still resembled his polite politician’s laughter. “Yes, very good. I’ll make young Skywalker believe you tried to kill me out of pride and greed and because you despised him, until he curses your memory. Everything that happens now will be your doing.”

The rage and the fear that he had left behind when he entered were flaming up now in Obi-wan, the orbit deteriorating, the gravitational pull of abandoning them and letting the Order down and ruining everything and too little, too proud, the same hopeless arrogant padawan and of that terrible, world-tearing no dragging him down to shatter in fire against them, like he had on Naboo all those years ago but so much more utterly and irrevocably and--this wasn’t all him.

He sucked in his breath, shaking through teeth still clenched too convulsively tight to pull apart for a witty retort to all that poison, and melted away inside himself.

Over him, Sidious frowned, feeling the Jedi escape his grip in the Force. “Are you dying already, Master Kenobi?”

He thought Sidious had mentioned summoning his lightsaber through the Force to encourage him to try it. It wouldn’t be impossible. He knew the feel of it in the Force like he did few other things in the Galaxy; he didn’t need sight to reach for it.

But it was too small, and too far away, and his senses were too scorched and blasted by that awful lightning. Long before his weapon could make it to his hand, Sidious could kill him, even with no working lightsaber of his own. He couldn’t win that way, or even (that far lesser goal) live.

Instead, Obi-wan grabbed for the closest large object he knew to look for that wasn’t a corpse: the sliced-loose upper half of that baroque monstrosity of a desk-chair, conveniently bulky and only a few long steps away, just behind the desk he’d fallen from behind.

It came, and in coming swept Palpatine’s legs from under him, knocking him not quite sprawling, and then the curve of it had smacked into Obi-wan’s outstretched left palm, jolting the broken bone which did not matter in the slightest, and he rolled up onto his knees, graceless but fast, the slab of steel and leather still moving with the momentum that had dragged it to him, and clobbered the sitting-up Sith Lord across the face with it.

One of Obi-wan’s many faults was his tendency to take a vicious glee in striking low his enemies, but he did not think he had ever taken quite the joy from any beautifully executed maneuver that he did from watching Palpatine knocked to the floor by a slab of office chair. Obi-wan lunged after him, not bothering with niceties like getting to his feet, and brought the chair-slab down on his face again, this time with the strength of both arms—his right hand was mostly numb but for hurting, only the thumb and forefinger would move at all, and it was very weak, but none of that interfered with placing his whole forearm against the upholstery and slamming the searing-hot, bare metal inner side down.

There was a crunch, probably nose, and then instead of diminishing the awful seething presence of the Dark Side rose like a hurricane, and Obi-wan felt his throat close as from a powerful phantom hand, cutting off all breathing.

This caused him not an instant’s hesitation, because he had come here fully intending to die.

He raised the sheered-off slice of chair, adjusted the angle so the sharp edge where he’d cut the durasteel was pointing down, and aimed for the throat.

The ensuing explosion threw him after his lightsaber, and he knew nothing after hitting the wall.

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist

Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series

Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him. 

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.

It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.

After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.

Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.

You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.

You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.

Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.

“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.

Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.

“Well, you never asked.”

George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.

“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.

Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”

Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.

You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”

And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.

During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.

Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.

“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”

“Lose a leg.”

“Or an arm.”

“Pack it in altogether.”

“Never!”

Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.

You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?

Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.

Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.

The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.

“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”

Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”

“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.

“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.

The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”

Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.

“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”

The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.

This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.

“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”

Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.

The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.

“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.

“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”

“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”

“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”

You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”

Fred laughed.

“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”

You ignored her and played along anyway.

“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”

George hesitated for a moment “Truth”

“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”

After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

I swear if you ask me anything stupid -

“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.

George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”

Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!

“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.

More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.

Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.

“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”

but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.

“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.

His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”

“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”

“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”

“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.

“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”

“But you always do, Freddie!”

He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.

“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”

Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.

Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”

The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.

Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.

Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.

This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.

But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.

Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.

Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.

Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.

Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.

You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.

“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”

Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?

The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.

“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”

Baby.

“Y/N!”

Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.

Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

[merakiaes]

Captain Jealous - William Lennox

Pairing: William Lennox x reader

Requested: By @neemonroe​

Prompts: #20, #41, #42 from the smut-list. 

Warnings/notes: Takes place before Transformers. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Might be a little bit OOC but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please reblog and comment, it would make my day <3 

Wordcount: 3806

Summary: Flirting with Will only seems to result in annoyance, but when you finally turn your attention elsewhere, he’s not very pleased. 

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To most, you were one of the strongest and most admirable women they’d ever gotten the pleasure of meeting, but to others… well, let’s just say that you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

You were absolutely relentless when you put your mind to something and one of the many people who had fallen victim to that stubbornness was William Lennox.

Having enrolled in the army around the same time and being equally as good at what you did both back in training and in the field, the two of you had always respected each other and rather than being competitive, tried your best to lift each other up.

If one of you took control of a situation and started shouting out orders, the other didn’t question it, not even when Will eventually passed you in ranks. Because your minds worked in the exact same ways and so it didn’t really matter who gave the orders since the orders would be the same in the end, anyway, no matter whose lips they passed.

But you did differ in the way that Will much preferred to keep his personal life separated from his professional life, while you had a habit of letting them merge together, which inevitably resulted in you bringing the obvious attraction you felt for him with you out on the field.

Will was one of the people who thought you had taken your mother’s advice a bit too literally. That was what he told you on a daily basis as a response to your endless flirting, at least. But you knew better; you knew that he, at least to some extent, reciprocated your attractions, thanks to the few moments you had shared back in training.

“It was all fun and games back then”. He liked to say in that stern, military voice he had picked up the second he was promoted to Captain. “But this is the real deal. This is serious, and this, this thing you’re doing, is unprofessional.”

Ever the workaholic soldier, he was, at this point basically having dedicated his entire life to the job with no time to spare for fun. But no matter how hard he tried denying it, you knew that the two of you shared something, and so did every other member of your squad.

The only ones who seemed completely clueless to this were the newbies and as you gradually lost hope that your stubborn captain would ever admit and give in to his feelings, you found it to be a breath of fresh air to be able to spend time with people who weren’t constantly making suggestive remarks and fueling the attraction from your side.

One, in particular, caught your eye; tall, dark and handsome. He had yet to gain more muscle than the bare minimum and was, admittedly, kind of lanky. He was one year younger than you which was way too young seeing as you’d otherwise not even go for guys the same age as you, but he had banter and shared your flirty, dirty, cheeky sense of humor which, most definitely, made up for what he lacked in life-experience.

Will had smugly watched all of the newbies try to make a move on you only to be shot down quicker than your enemies, but then the last of the soldiers had swept up by your side, put a long, lean arm over your shoulders, and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line he had ever heard. 

“How you doing, mama? You must be a parking ticket, ‘cuz you got fiiine written all over you.”

While Epps, Fig and the rest of the team broke out into laughter at the man’s poor technique, Will’s face transformed from smug to stone-cold murderer. 

Why? Because he knew that you didn’t want a man to tell you the stars reflected in your eyes or that you took their breath away with your beauty.

What you wanted was someone who could make you laugh, and when you threw your head back and joined in on the seemingly endless laughing fit, he was overtaken by a feeling so strong that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

And you noticed the change of demeanor immediately. The long, hard stares were only the tip of the iceberg, as was the way he would move closer to you and find a way to touch you as much as he possibly could without making it inappropriate or suspicious. 

The most extreme part of his change in behavior was how hard and strict he suddenly became with the rookie, who had quickly earned himself the reputation of your very own lapdog. 

He got scolded even for the most insignificant of mistakes, always got put on parade as the “example” in exercises in which he was usually thrown to the ground by Will himself and totally and completely humiliated.

Of course, those moments were just poor thinking on Will’s part seeing as you, besides being incredibly flirty and witty, also happened to be one of the most caring members of the team. 

Not only did he have to watch you laugh until your stomach hurt at the rookie’s bad jokes, but he also had to watch you comfort and reassure him after his one-on-one’s with the Captain.

And still, Will couldn’t stop himself from making the same mistake again and again, the consequences every time being that he was stuck watching you fuss over the younger soldier, because no matter how much it vexed him, he knew that you knew why he was acting the way he was. 

It was all a game to you and he played along because he wanted to keep showing you that he was the better option. Unluckily for the rookie, though, Will’s method of showing dominance was through physical contact.

You knew what Will was doing, how he was trying to punish the rookie, mildly and legally, of course, while simultaneously trying to show you that he was displeased with what was going on; that he wanted it to stop.

To a start, you only showed interest in the rookie to fuck with Will, but you quickly realized that he was actually a fun guy to hang around.

You enjoyed spending time with him. Not a second with him went without laughter and it was nice to be able to have fun like that for a change, and soon enough, you’d more or less forgotten about the silent war between the two of you.

You probably knew that it wasn’t a real interest, judging by the way you didn’t even care enough to remember his name, but it was fun to have another banter-buddy.

You’d had an identical friendship with Epps since the start, but two people could only keep the creativity up for so long; after a while, you just couldn’t come up with witty remarks and sarcastic jokes, anymore.

Up until then, Will had still kept his disapproval about the whole thing lowkey, because as long as you were only doing what you were doing to make him jealous, you were still interested. 

But when you started making moves on the rookie with genuine interest, without looking over at Will while doing it, it was no longer a game. 

While already on the topic of games, you were completely useless when it came to cards. It didn’t matter what game you played; you’d always end up as the loser. And although you enjoyed the banter that followed the teasing of your poor card-playing abilities, your patience wasn’t endless.

“Alright, I’m calling it.” You chuckled after losing the fifth game of the evening, dropping your thick deck of cards onto the table in front of you.

“Really? But it was going so good for you.” Epps wasted no time in firing back with feign-surprise, to which all you did was deliver a sharp slap to his head.

The table broke out into laughter. “You had that coming.” Fig shook his head, successfully starting a metaphorical war. 

You chuckled at their antics and pushed back your chair, getting to your feet and stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, and wasted no time in starting to collect your things.

The rookie’s attention was instantly piqued, and so was Will’s, who had been playing in silence nearly the entire time you’d been there.

“You know, I need to shower, too.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. “So, I should probably join you. You know, save water. Provide some extra heat.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raised a playful eyebrow and chuckled. “Tempting offer, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Glad to know I have options, though. Maybe next time.”

Without waiting for his reply, you snatched your jacket from a nearby stool and playfully flicked his forehead, before turning around and walking away, completely oblivious of the pairs of eyes that kept watching you from the table you had just left.

You went about your shower routine like you always did; get undressed, wash hair, wash body, turn off the water in-between washes, get dried and get dressed again. Sharing the water with so many people could be hard, so you couldn’t really take the long, thoughtful showers you did when at home.

You were out again as quickly as you had gotten in and took your time getting lotioned and dressed, getting as much self-care into your night as you possibly could when at a military base.

“What are you doing with the new kid?”

You should’ve been significantly more aware of your surroundings as a soldier but in your defense, everyone dropped their guard to some extent when in a safe environment, so the scream that came out of your mouth at the sudden sound of a voice was completely justified.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore as you jumped around, hastily reaching for your damp towel to cover your bare chest.

Coming face to face with a furious-looking Will, you glared. “Knock much?”

He didn’t look amused in the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Knock, knock. Answer my question.”

Your mouth snapped shut at the dominance behind his voice and your eyes instinctively flickered to his biceps, veins and muscle more defined than ever in the way he had positioned his arms.

You were, however, proud to say that you were quick to come back to your senses, your eyes snapping back to meet his.

“Do you, maybe, oh, I don’t know, want to turn around?” You asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.

If you wanted him to turn around to gain privacy for yourself or simply because you couldn’t stop glancing at his bulging biceps, you didn’t know, but no matter the reason behind your wish, he didn’t move an inch.

“Answer the question.” Was all that he said, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m just having a bit of fun.”

“Do you like him?” His questions kept shooting out as quickly as bullets and, again, you couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes.

“He’s fun to be around.” You said simply, giving him a slightly annoyed glare before turning around and dropping the towel to continue getting dressed.

Will didn’t even try to cover the fact that he was checking you out, eyes shamelessly traveling your form and taking his sweet time to remember all the details his eyes could reach. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time one of you saw the other only partly clothed – you know, it was kind of inevitable for all of you to catch a glimpse of each other’s birthday suits once every blue moon - so once the shock of his sudden appearance had melted off, the nervousness followed.

“But do you like-like him?”

At the sound of that question in particular, you couldn’t help but snort.

“What is this? Third grade?” You threw him an amused look over your shoulder. “Say that I do like-like him, do you think I should ask Epps if he can give him a note asking him to check yes or no on whether or not he’d like to be my boyfriend?” You gave him a sarcastic pout.

At this point, Will was completely fed up with your inability to take anything seriously and spun you around by your arm. 

Luckily, you had just finished hooking your bra behind your back, said bra thankfully covering your chest from his view.

“Can you not make a joke about everything?” He asked, your wrist firmly held in his hand. “You have to realize how bad this looks to our superiors. First me, and now him. You can’t go around flirting with everyone. It makes you look unprofessional and uncommitted and that, in turn, makes it look like I can’t do my job.”  

“Is that really what’s got your big-soldier-boy panties in a twist, though?” You narrowed your eyes challengingly, and slowly fought your wrist out of his grip to, instead, grab a hold of his hand.

Further proving your point, he did nothing to protest, the glare remaining in his eyes, but the rest of his face being overtaken by exasperation.

“I just don’t get it.” He said. “You spend all this time pushing my buttons, being completely insufferable with your never-ending flirting, and now you’re suddenly interested in someone else?”

“I think the real question here is why you’re suddenly interested when I’ve spent so much time trying to get your attention to no avail and now, what? You suddenly want me because I might be interested in someone else?” You raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t deny the flash of heat going through your body when he lowly growled.

“I’ve never not wanted you.” He objected. “And you’re not interested in the rookie.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

“So what you’re saying is, basically, that you can’t be with me, but I also can’t be interested in anyone else.”

“We both know that relationships in this work are highly frowned upon and-“

“Highly frowned upon, but not forbidden. You’ve still had the option to choose, and you actively chose not to act on it. Just making that clear.”

“I haven’t acted on it because it’s wrong.”

“If it’s so wrong…” You started, a sharp shiver going down your spine as your bare back hit the cold, wet tiles. “Then why did you just corner me in the shower?”

During that short minute of back-and-forth arguing, he had done just that, the two of you now standing chest against chest in the darkest corner of the room.

Your face was pulled into a determined glare, as was his, and the tension and intensity behind your shared stare was enough to have all of the previously discussed issues forgotten in less than a microsecond.  

The proximity between you in combination with the fact that you were at an obvious disadvantage in height and size made you feel both hot and cold at the same time. You felt like prey under his stare. You found yourself liking it all the while you were hating the feeling of being so powerless, and your inner conflict only added to the tension.

“You have no idea how much willpower it’s taken me to keep resisting you, to keep turning you down.” He spoke slowly, and lowly. “Each of my thoughts about you are improper and you put all of those thoughts into my head every day, pulling my strings, pushing my buttons, just walking around being… you.”

In one smooth motion, he intertwined his fingers with yours, and your eyes automatically flickered down to watch your now joined-together digits; rough and calloused meeting even rougher and more calloused.

“I like you. I care about you. More than I should.” He continued, prompting you to look back up with an eyebrow raised.

“And?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, exasperated and impatient. “Do you want me to say that I want to be with you? Because I do. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”

You snickered at his over-dramatic emphasizing, finding it nothing short of amusing that he’d been protesting and telling you how wrong it was only seconds before, and now he was more or less proclaiming his love for you. That, more than anything, just showed how stubborn he was.

“Took you long enough.” You mused, leaning your head back into the wall and smirking, all while looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just too bad that I’ve grown so fond of the rookie. You know, he’s quite-“

Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Will’s lips crashing into yours, roughly and urgently. In the process, you were pushed even further into the wall behind you, and as the sudden force threw you off balance, you instinctively reacted by moving your arms up to his neck to hold yourself in place.

In return, his hands moved to each side of your waist, big, warm hands squeezing down on the flesh that had long ago turned cold from being bare in the nippy air for so long.

You had always imagined what it would feel like to be touched by him like this, but not even your wildest imagination could compare to the intensity of the tingles that spread through your stomach and chest.

Your hands slowly sneaked up the back of his neck, your body reacting automatically, but just as you were about to tousle your fingers in his hair, the moment ended when he pulled away.

Both of you were left panting in silence, the only sounds available for your ears to hear being your ragged breaths and the rhythmic dripping of the shower beside you.

“Wow, Captain.” You were the first one to speak. “I knew you were hot for me, but try to keep it in your pants. That was hardly professional.”

Just like that, your sarcastic persona returned as if it had never left in the first place, your eyes opening after having been closed up until then and meeting his with a playful grin.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m pretty sure you threw professional straight out the window the first time we met.” He pointed out and much to your dismay, stepped back. “Are you going to stop encouraging the rookie, now?”

Getting straight to the point, okay.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged casually, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect your nails and peeking up at him through your lashes with a devilish smirk. “Jealousy looks kinda good on you.”

“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed quickly, and you immediately raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘really?’

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated, this time in a lower, calmer tone. “It’s just, you’re mine.”

Those two words alone were enough to make you inwardly groan, like one would when eating that first scoop of ice cream after not having been able to eat any in a week. Or a day.

But in a brave attempt to not make a fool of yourself, you remained in your teasing element, raising your eyebrows and hitting him back with a feign-uncaring: “Is that so?”

To that, he stepped closer to you once again, brought his hands up to cradle your cheeks, and playfully glared.

“Stop flirting with the rookie.” He repeated.

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“I’m asking politely.” He lied.

“Hmmm….” You hummed, pretending to think only for a moment, before flashing him a shit-eating grin. “No. I’m having way too much fun watching you squirm.”

Still leaning against the wall, you carefully pushed yourself up, pushed your chest against his and watched in success as his eyes flickered down.

Taking your sweet time, you brought your hands up to his chest with agonizingly slow movements and leaned your head up to his.

His breath shook as you brushed your lips over his and whispered against them lowly. 

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

Will pushed his head forward with obvious intentions, but before he could press his lips against yours, you slid out of the tight corner, resulting in him having to catch himself on the wall left behind.

With a proud smile, you walked over to the bench by which you had previously been working on getting dressed and snatched your shirt where it laid.

“You’ll drive me crazy before all this is over, you know that?” Will spoke from behind you, which only made your smile widen.

Quickly pulling on your shirt and collecting the rest of your things, you turned around and walked back up to him where he still stood in the shower.

“That’s always been the plan.” You replied simply, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before once again turning around and walking away, this time leaving him completely alone in the room.

He had to take a few moments to collect himself and regain his composure, and by the time he walked back out, you were nowhere in sight. 

With only you on his mind, he headed back to the table where the rest of the team were still playing cards, and sat down in the chair he had occupied before leaving.

“So, now that it’s just us here, I could use some advice on-“ The rookie wasted no time, but didn’t get to finish.

“You couldn’t handle her even if she came with instructions, kid.” Will interrupted without even looking at him, reading his mind without struggle since the person of his interest was one they had in common.

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To some, this was an admirable quality while, to others, you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

When it came to Will? Well, he just had nothing bad to say about you. You might’ve gotten on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time, and been completely and utterly insufferable, but God did he love it.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Will Lennox fics!

[strxngemxgick]

A Little Out Of The Ordinary

October 1, 2022, Day 1

Prompt: A little out of the ordinary (adverse effects, “this wasn’t supposed to happen”)

Summary: "The Darkhold exacts a heavy toll."

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Wong, despite the circumstances, genuinely looked like he was inclined to believe Stephen. There was anger in his cold eyes, his usually stoic expression twitching with the occasional resurgence of worry and disappointment and, if Stephen had to assume, a genuine sense of perplexity. His gaze flickered across his companion’s face, shifting across each wrinkle and scar that had built up over Stephen’s time as a sorcerer, but none caught his attention quite like his most recent addition - the so-called elephant in the room that created an unrelenting tension, still kept a secret from even the oldest and most capable Masters of Kamar-Taj.

They had never agreed with the former Sorcerer Supreme’s contemporary, and generally unfavorable, methods anyway. Surely such a transgression would be the proverbial final nail in the coffin of Stephen’s career. 

It had taken enough courage to even bring his newest affliction up to Wong, as is. There was shame in it, and an undercurrent of fear that still hadn’t fled him even with as much as he had seen over the years. Masters of the Mystic Arts were no strangers to the unusual, but this…

It hurt to even think about it, like drawing attention to his curse exacerbated his agony.

“On the contrary,” Wong shot back, tone level. His gaze remained affixed firmly to the center of Stephen’s forehead, “I have no doubt that it is exactly what is to be expected.”

Stephen lifted one dark brow. His jaw was set with his mounting stress. That was hardly the response he had hoped for. They were sorcerers, and two of the most gifted in their field; surely, if anyone could come up with a cure for his problem, it would be one of them. What Wong may have hoped to be encouragement had only planted a heavy stone of regret and shame and general distress in Stephen’s chest. As if he didn’t have enough already, he thought with a wry, humorless laugh.

“The Darkhold exacts a heavy toll.”

He should have listened to himself.

Wong was quick to continue the moment he noticed his companion spiraling, his aura darkening with his hopelessness. “You’re looking at it the wrong way, Strange; many mystics spend entire lifetimes seeking the enlightenment that comes with a third eye, only to be met with disappointment. Such a skill comes with an awareness of the worlds around us that many can barely begin to fathom.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better? Because frankly, I can feel my headache worsening by the second.”

“Because you were not prepared,” Wong stated firmly. “There is years of training that goes into preparing for the sight that was forced upon you.” 

There was an unspoken chastisement - that you have forced upon yourself through your foolish actions - that Stephen didn’t think he needed a third eye to pick up on. His companion excelled in silent conversations, and he had steadily grown more accustomed to picking up on the more subtle side of their chats. They weren’t so subtle any more, of course. 

Didn’t make it any more humiliating. No more easy to stomach. 

Stephen flinched, a wave of energy crashing into him. His head throbbed. There was an uncomfortable sort of hyper awareness that came with the movement of his blood through his veins. Pure, liquid fire just underneath his skin, humming with unbridled magic just dying to spill over. It was unbearable. Had been since the eye had opened a couple of weeks ago in the middle of the Village. It had been an unrelenting assault of psychic energy that had dropped him effortlessly, his body crumpling underneath the weight of the true colors of the universe shining around him - creatures and power the likes of which he had yet to see before forming around him with the brightness of a sun. It was downright blinding, and even within the security of the Sanctum, there was so much raw, mystic life.

He doubled over, a spike of pain driven through his skull that made him cry out, trembling hands cradling his throbbing head. He could feel Wong at his side, the Sorcerer Supreme dropping to his knees. Stephen could see him, even with his eyes scrunched shut with the agony of it all, tears squeezing through, unbidden, to slip down his cheeks. That accursed eye opened up, taking in the world around him with obscene clarity. Most of the objects in the room gave off a soft glow. Pale light seemed to ooze between the floorboards and through minuscule cracks and tears in the wallpaper. Wong, in particular, glowed like a fire, bright swirls of colors radiating from him as the eye took in his aura. Wong blinked up at the eye as it watched him, offering a brief glare before his expression turned impassive once more. 

“Come on, Strange,” he whispered, hands reaching up mold over Stephen’s. His words were barely audible over the otherworldly tongues spoken in the back of his mind, rolling around in his skull, but it was just loud enough to cut through, serving as a comfort. Less audible were the words Wong spoke next, hushed and hurried and almost desperate. They formed in the light he gave off, like tiny daggers appearing in his mind. They sliced through the shapes and shadows in his head, cleaving them relentlessly and making them scream. Perhaps it was his own mouth making those noises, Stephen couldn’t be so sure. 

He just knew that he was grateful for the eventual silence. The pressure fled his body in a sudden rush, his body dropping like dead weight, eyes rolling back, breath shuddering on the exhale. Strong arms wrapped around him, firm and unyielding enough to keep him tethered to the waking world. Wong held him securely, drawing him into a more comfortable position. His eyelids felt leaden as he struggled to lift them once more, and he was quietly delighted to see the relative dimness of the study. The smell of old books and the burning fireplace and nearby chamomile tea were still strong, but there was no more stench of raw magic. 

Stephen sighed heavily, shoulders dropping as the tension fled his muscles and left him feeling hollowed out. Better, he thought, than the sensation of being too full.

“Steady, Strange.”

Stephen just groaned, trying to lift his head only to feel it loll uselessly onto Wong’s shoulder. He took a few slow, steady breaths before he tried again, slowly sitting up with his comrade’s help. Wong’s hands on his shoulders were strong and steady, and the support was such a relief that Stephen thought he might break. 

His voice was small when he spoke, and he could already feel another headache forming. “Wong…”

“I know, Stephen.”

There was a tenderness to Wong’s voice that for a moment, Stephen was at a loss for words. Soft blue eyes blinked lazily up at the other man. Breaths labored. Mind foggy. Body heavy. “I…”

“We’ll get this figured out.”

At least, Stephen thought, one of them thought so.

[skellebonez]

The prompt you wrote with baby MK was extremely cute, but it also gave me an idea that wouldn't leave my brain: Imagine that same situation, but with Mei and Macaque. This is an open prompt, you can do with this whatever you like!

MK isn’t the only one who gets to have this kind of curse/ailment anymore! And I can’t resist putting this in the Cursed AU specifically, simply because I love the idea of this Macaque being confronted face first with the fact he actually cares. Even if it happens 200 times.

"What in the absolute hell are we supposed to do now?" Macaque groaned out, looking around the both of them for any indication of an escape that didn't involve him leaving Mei behind. Which was looking slimmer and slimmer if he didn’t want her to be in more physical danger than she already was. So. Stranded it was.

"I can still help!" Mei insisted, crossing her arms and standing her ground with a wide smirk. "I'm not powerless you know!"

"Never said you were, Jade," Macaque acknowledged instantly, tensing for a half moment when he realized how much he had to be attached to say something like that so fast. He forced himself to relax once again, no point in adding more fuel to the fire of worry that laid between them. "This just makes things complicated."

Oh yeah... complicated, that was one way to put it, definitely. If Macaque was being generous. And ignoring the fact that Mei wasn’t even 4 feet tall... and 4 years old. Physically.

Macaque was supposed to be on official mystic monkey business alone. Or at least that’s what he told Mei and MK to hopefully keep them out of his fur, but apparently Mei had other ideas. Like sneaking onto the private boat he had paid for to be taken to this secluded island far out into the ocean undetected, much farther than Mount Huaguo was. How she managed to sneak past security he may never know, now would he know how she managed to stay hidden for their 7 hour journey, and he would never admit that he was genuinely impressed.

He genuinely had not known she joined him until after the boat left, leaving them both stranded for at least the next 24 hours.

Horray.

Things had actually been going pretty ok, for the most part, after she had made herself known. In actuality Macaque was here to hunt down a specific item of his he had left behind on the island years ago, nothing really world shattering just... important to him. He knew that it would be safe here when he left it, the island as uninhabited and out of the way for humans to come to as it was.

But he also knew many powerful demons occasionally used this island as a hiding ground for when they were injured or planning something, against the owner’s wishes. And unfortunately one such demon just happened to be there on the one day of the while year he planned on coming.

That demon was deader than anything else on this island at the moment. Macaque hadn’t tried to kill him, not really, but they had lobbed something at him that Mei jumped in front of and he reacted on instinct.

If the thing had hit him in the first place they would probably be just fine. A decade and a half off his life span was nothing, unless it was set to a specific age in which... well, he was already able to do most of what he could do as a child so they still probably would have been ok. And hopefully she would be, if his memory served this particular demon was talented only in making temporary cursed and potions... mostly.

He hoped.

“Are you certain using your powers won’t hurt you?” Macaque asked, staring down at the short girl before him.

“I don’t think so?” Mei said with a shrug. “I mean, I’ve kinda had them for as long as I remember so... probably not.”

“Let’s not take that chance,” Macaque said with a sigh, looking around the beach. There was nothing for him to use, no emergency radio or boat. The best they had found on their entire search was a dinky little shelter. “It looks like our best bet would be to hunker down in that building and wait until mid day tomorrow for the boat to return. Provided there aren’t any more demons around we should be fine...”

“I can build a fire!” Mei proclaimed, running off before Macaque could even hope to catch her.

Something pulled in his chest, a protective thrum that he hadn’t felt since... since his journey with MK, but was becoming increasingly common the more time he spent training Mei. And he hadn’t felt that for so long he had forgotten what it felt like when it happened then, so unfamiliar with the desire to protect his old home and monkey friends of Mount Huaguo.

He would never admit even to himself that that feeling was “caring”. At least not yet.

“Jade, get back here!” Macaque yelled, moving to rush off after her before she came barreling back herself with armfuls of sticks and pine cones.

“I got everything we need!” She laughed and threw everything down in front of the building, looking around. “Did you see any rocks?”

“I know how to build a fire,” Macaque said softly, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “We probably don’t even need one.”

“Aw, but this is like a camping trip now!” Mei said, flailing her arms in the direction of the sticks. “I’ve even got marshmallows in my backpack!”

“Why did you bring m-never mind,” Macaque groaned, rubbing his face and sighing deeply. “OK. We’ll build a fire.”

~

It had gone better than hoped, actually. Macaque was able to start the fire with ease and Mei had apparently thought ahead enough that she’s brought the ingredients to make something called s’mores. Macaque had never seen them before, either they were new or they were a foreign treat, but MK had mentioned them to him on their journey and he had to admit... they were nice.

He just wished the gooey marshmallow didn’t stick to his fur so bad.

“And then MK did something that made the clone glow gold and explode into a bazillion pieces of hair!” Mei said, sweeping her arms out as she finisher her story. “And that’s how MK created and saved me from Porty Clone.”

“Sound like MK’s clones had quite the variety to them,” Macaque said with a smile. He’d relaxed over the evening, the normal sounds of the island confirming to him that it was just the two of them now and that at the very least they were safe from attack for the moment. “No wonder he’s careful not to overuse them.”

“Yeah, but Porty was pretty fun until he went overboard,” Mei replied, words cutting off with a yawn and a shiver as the wind picked up. “What time is it?”

Macaque looked up, watching the moon and the stars. “Late enough that it would be best to get some rest. We don’t want to miss the boat after all.”

“Hey, you only paid them half so they better come looking for you if you don’t show up!” She laughed out, making her way into the building as Macaque dumped sand on the fire to douse it. Just in case, don’t need the island catching fire with the wind. “ So uh... what are you going to tell them about... me?”

“That I came here looking for you,” he said plainly, shutting the door behind them. The moonlight shone through the windows of the shelter, giving them just enough light to see the one sad little cot it housed, right next to the massive stock of canned food they had also raided for dinner. He pulled the blanket on the cot back, grimacing at the dust on the blanket but satisfied with the condition of everything under it. He went outside to shake it out and make it usable again. “They know I was looking for something and that’s all they need to know.”

“What were you looking for anyway, Hot Topic?” Mei asked after a moment, watching Macaque make the bed again. “And how do you... know about this place?”

“... it’s mine, actually,” he said quietly, looking around the sad shelter. Unfurnished, cold and empty, with only the island itself and non-perishable food for survival. “I haven’t been back in a long time and most know to stay away, but sometimes demons don’t care. I was looking for something... unimportant.”

“It must have been important if you came all this way to find it,” Mei said, yawning again and rubbing her eyes.

“Ok, that’s enough of that!” Macaque exclaimed, hoping his glamor was hiding the embarrassed flush of his ears at her accusation. “Time for sleep!”

Without giving her a second to protest Macaque grabbed her around the waist with his tail and deposited her under the now clean enough blanket before forcibly tucking her in.

“Hey!” She protested, scowling at him once her arms were free. “I can’t sleep yet!”

“Why not?” Macaque chanced, wondering if he was going to regret this.

“You never told me a story.”

“... huh?”

“At the camp fire!” Mei insisted, leaning over the bed to grab her backpack and hold it to herself like it was a stuffed animal (which wasn’t hard since it was... basically a hollow stuffed dragon anyway). “I told you a bunch of stories about me and MK and Piggy and Tangy and Sandy and you didn’t tell me anything about you and the Monkey King! So spill one, I’m not going to sleep until you do!”

Macaque wanted to say no, wanted to glare at Mei until she just went to sleep through sheer exhaustion, wanted to walk out of the building and just stand guard at the door instead... but he kept looking into her teeny tiny 4 year old glower and he couldn’t help but sigh in defeat.

“Fine...” He said after a moment, moving to sit at the head of the bed. He watched as Mei smiled widely, making herself comfortable. “Let’s see... where should we begin... How about the time Wukong thought it would be a good idea to challenge the whole island to 1 on 1 combat for the title of king because he was bored, long before his proper training?”

“That sounds like him,” Mei said, smiling into her backpack with another yawn as she closed her eyes. “Yeah... tell that one.”

“OK, so this was only a little while after he jumped through the waterfall...”

And Macaque went on and on, giving much more detail than necessary, watching as Mei slowly relaxed until she eventually nodded off before the story even got close to the ending.

Which was... probably good for Macaque, to be honest.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the item he had come here to find. It was simple, all things considered. A little carved crown, made from wood and preserved carefully through the years, far too small for his head and more of a bracelet. Wukong had made it for him when their own duel, the final one of the whole island, ended in a draw all those centuries ago. A show of how they could, maybe, rule the mountain together one day. He’d left it here so long ago that he worried it would have been destroyed or fallen apart over time.

Apparently Wukong knew a little something about what he was doing back then after all.

Macaque smiled, slipping it back into his pocket as he slid off the bed to sit against it, all six ears fluttering out to listen to the island around them. Just in case.

Mei slept mostly soundly behind him and if she started to whine in the beginnings of a nightmare and he turned around to soothe her and whisper that he was there and she was alright well... that would be something to talk about if she remembered it.

[gleamglowsgraveyard]

How about Sirius finding out the reader has a crush on him...and gives her her first kiss? 😘

cigarettes and firewhisky

pairing: sirius/reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: amortentia is no fun to make when you’re partnered up with the person you know it’s going to end up smelling like.

content: fluff, me being bad at writing slughorn, very brief mention of sirius’s family issues, confessions in an empty classroom, kissing but nothing spicy (edit: rereading this i realized i made the reader pretty gender neutral! no pronouns or anything like that :)

you know i had to pull the amortentia trope. this was a cute request, thank you so much! also thank you to my anons who sent in what they thought sirius smelled like, you guys were a lot of help! (except the person who suggested that sirius smells like wet dog. you know who you are.)

This was the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. Surely some higher power was laughing at you from above, taunting you and your dreadful luck.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. How on earth did you end up being paired up with Sirius Black of all people?! And - even worse - making the worst potion ever concocted?!

If you weren’t in public you’re sure you’d be letting out a crazed laugh out of pure mania.

So far you’ve been able to dodge all of his attempts at conversation, quickly sending him off to find another ingredient as soon as he got too chatty. You’d hardly made any eye contact at all, and any time he handed you something you were careful not to have his fingertips even slightly graze your own.

In truth, you’ve had an enormous crush on Sirius Black since third year, and it had only gotten worse as the years went by. This meant that by now, you had become a bit of an expert at avoiding him at all costs.

But now it was all ruined. Years of hard work spiraling down the drain all because of fucking Amortentia.

Why couldn’t it have been a simple calming draught? Or a shrinking solution? Hell, you would’ve even preferred to make Slughorn his lunch!

And it’s not as if you can sabotage the potion, either! That would mean Sirius’s grade suffering too. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

There was no way out but to lie about what the potion smells of if he asks. Simple! That way no one finds out - more importantly, that way Sirius doesn’t find out - about your silly little crush. Foolproof. Genius. Inspired-!

“Do you like me?”

“What?!” You jolt as panic overtakes you, snapping your head up to meet Sirius’s eyes.

“Do you like me?” he repeats, smiling slightly. “I can’t help but feel like you hate me, seeing as you haven’t looked at me or talked to me at all.”

Internally, you breathe out a sigh of relief, glad you had misinterpreted the question.

“No! I-” Your voice is much too high, you stop to clear your throat. “I do! I do like you, I um... Sorry! I promise I don’t hate you, I guess I’m just... shy.” You finish your blabbering by looking away, pretending to inspect the fire below your cauldron.

When you raise your gaze again Sirius is still looking at you - observing you as if you’re an interesting puzzle that he can’t quite figure out.

“Um!” you quickly turn your attention to the potion, hoping he does the same. “Nearly done, right? Here.” You hold out the wooden spoon for him to take. “Five more clockwise stirs.”

He looks at the spoon but then folds his hands behind his back. “You do it,” he offers instead.

You purse your lips but nod anyway, bringing the wood up to the cauldron’s opening. The pearlescent liquid shifts under the spoon as it touches the surface, and once it’s fully submerged you take a deep breath and start stirring.

One... Two... Three... Four...

As soon as you finish the fifth stir your nose is assaulted by a suffocating aroma of cigarettes and firewhisky. You quickly step back, coughing and tossing the spoon on the table, but the scent follows you.

That doesn’t smell very appealing! Had you done something wrong? You could have sworn you’d followed the recipe exactly!

But then suddenly the scent changes, rapidly becoming much more welcoming. Cigarettes and firewhisky quickly turns into the undertone to something different... Cinnamon shampoo? But also... cologne, and... You could also catch the faint whiff of a brand new leather jacket.

“I think...” you start, eyes trained on the potion that now has delicate tendrils of steam coming off its surface. “I think we did it.” You laugh a bit in astonishment, proud of the fact that you’d managed to make such an advanced potion.

When you turn your head Sirius is looking at you again, in that infuriating way with his gorgeous eyes and stupid grin. You desperately want to look away but just can’t bring yourself to do so.

“How can you tell?” he asks quietly, and you suddenly feel everything else in the room slip away until it’s just him in front of you.

“I... It-”

“What’s it smell like?”

His low voice puts you in such a trance that for a moment you think you’re about to tell him the truth, but you quickly remember what you’d decided on earlier. Lie.

“Ban-” Bananas? No! “Bal-” Balloons? What would that even mean?! “Bu... bblegum. Bubblegum.” You finally land on, and then give a minuscule wince.

Bubblegum?! Although, you suppose it’s better than balloons...

“Bubblegum?” Sirius repeats, brows furrowed.

“Yep! And is that...? Oh! Firewood!” you continue, pulling lies out of thin air. Sirius’s furrowed brows fade away, and an amused smile starts to form on his features instead.

“And, um... And sun cream! Huh, weird.”

“Bubblegum, firewood, and sun cream?” Sirius lists, as if needing clarification from you.

“Well, I-”

“And look what we have here!” Professor Slughorn’s booming voice is suddenly feet away from the two of you, standing right beside your cauldron. “I do believe we have our first finished brew of Amortentia! Although I can’t say I’m surprised, Mr. Black,” Slughorn beams, giving Sirius a knowing look.

Sirius just shuffles awkwardly.

If Slughorn notices Sirius’s discomfort, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he continues, “You know, your father was an exceptional potion maker. Very talented indeed, and you and your brother seem to be following in his footsteps! Although I must say, young Regulus has been a bit unfocused lately, he-”

“Uh, professor?” you speak up when Sirius flinches at his brother’s name.

Slughorn blinks and then looks at you as if he’s just noticed you were there. “Oh- Yes?”

“So... The potion? Did we do it right?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course! Full marks!” He waves you off, as if you were being silly for even asking. “And ten points for each of you!” he adds for good measure before strolling off, most likely to go torment some other student with a famous surname.

After that, Sirius doesn’t much seem to be up for talking anymore. He focuses all his attention on cleaning up your station, closing up jars of rose petals and pearl dust. You follow his lead, albeit a bit sluggishly.

A few minutes ago you would’ve been okay with Sirius’s silence - happy, even, if it meant you didn’t have to deal with your little crush. But now you would give anything to have him cheerful and smiling again - even if he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes.

Once class is over you’re quick to duck out of the room, desperately wanting to leave Slughorn and Amortentia and the smell of cigarettes and firewhisky behind you.

It’s all over now, everything went according to plan and you can finally go back to doing what you do best. Secretly pining after Sirius Black from a distance.

It’s safe. It’s what you’re good at.

You’re just about ready to forget about this day entirely when you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

...Maybe you were hearing things.

You speed up your steps but then he calls your name again and you’re forced to slow down, waiting for him to catch up. When he does he gives you another winning smile and your heart does a flip.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, and you listen intently. “Sorry about uh... Just... Thanks.”

You’re a bit taken aback. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a ‘thank you’.

“I... For what?” you ask, genuinely perplexed, but trying not to sound rude.

“Getting Slughorn to leave,” he clarifies with a grin. “He’s always been the same... I’ve been dealing with that for seven years now.”

There’s laughter in his voice but you can tell it’s a bit frayed at the edges. He’s clearly trying - and failing - to play it off as no big deal.

“Sorry,” you offer lamely. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

It really doesn’t.

You don’t know much about Sirius’s family, but you know enough to understand that he probably doesn’t like to be constantly reminded of them. Sharing their last name and seeing his brother in the halls was probably more than enough.

“It’s fine. And, I didn’t just want to thank you,” he says quickly, realizing that the conversation had gotten gloomy.

“Oh?” you voice with a bit of a nervous smile.

“I wanted to ask what it smelled like. The Amortentia.”

There goes your heart again. A million miles a minute.

“What do you mean?” you ask, laughing a bit. “I told you. Bubblegum and um...”

Shoot! What were the other two?!

“Firewood and sun cream?” Sirius prompts, and you nod frantically.

“Yep! That was it!” you’re quick to blurt out. Unconsciously, you pick up your pace, now traveling at a slight speed walk.

Sirius keeps up easily. “But you’re lying,” he accuses, pointing a finger at you, and you swear you start to sweat. “You started coughing when you finished stirring. What did you smell then?”

“I-! Well-! The bubblegum was very pungent, and I-”

“And it looked to me like you were just naming anything that came to your head. Were you about to say balloons at one point?”

“You know, I don’t appreciate being interrogated like this, and quite frankly I- woah!”

You suddenly find that you’re being pulled somewhere by the elbow, and only when you hear a door close behind you do you realize that Sirius has dragged you into an empty classroom. You don’t even have time to take in your surroundings, because Sirius is asking you again:

“So what did you smell?”

You consider lying again, but he’s staring at you with his big, pretty eyes, just waiting for you to tell the truth and all of a sudden you really, really want to.

You thought - you really thought - that you would be content to just go back to crushing on him from a safe distance, but then the Amortentia had happened and he had looked at you different. He was looking at you differently even now - eyes glittering, listening attentively for your answer. And suddenly pining from a distance doesn’t seem so appealing.

You groan in frustration, bringing both of your hands up to cover your face. You just can’t believe what this boy is doing to you.

“It’s so stupid,” you admit, feeling your cheeks head up beneath your palms.

“It’s not,” he assures you, gently wrapping both his hands around each of your wrists, silently asking you to stop covering your face.

You shake you head. “It is, and if you’re asking then you already know.”

“So humor me.”

You abruptly drop your hands to look up at him and, woah - had he always been that close? He’d definitely gotten a bit closer since you’d closed your eyes.

You let out a shaky breath. “Cigarette smoke... Firewhisky...” you trail off. You mean to keep going, but decide to wait for Sirius’s initial reaction first.

Sirius blinks. “Gross,” he says after a beat, and it startles a laugh out of you.

“Yeah, a bit. I thought we messed it up, but then... Um, it changed.”

You search his features for any signs of discomfort, but find none. In fact, Sirius seems to be basking in every word you tell him.

So you keep going, very quietly, “Cologne and...” Without thinking you bring a hand up to rest delicately on his shoulder. “Leather and... Cinnamon...”

You hand moves of it’s own volition, resting on the junction of Sirius’s shoulder and neck and you stare dazedly at it for a moment. You blink and then realize what you’re doing.

You pull your hand away as if you’ve been burned. “Sorry, I-”

But then Sirius is leaning forward fast and - Merlin, was he about to kiss you?!

You panic for a moment, knowing you have to think quick. Your hand darts up again, this time landing on his collarbone, putting your palm flat up against him and pressing firmly, willing him to stop.

He gets the message and quickly pulls back. “I’m sorry-”

“No!” you blurt out so fast that it sounds more like a squeak. “No, no, it’s not that I don’t... I mean I want to, I do I just...” You screw your eyes shut. “I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Fuck,” Sirius lets out a laugh.

Your heart sinks as you open your eyes. Was he laughing at you?

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” he clarifies quick, as if reading your mind. “For a second I thought the Amortentia was a big coincidence and you didn’t like me at all.” he smiles, and you realize his laugh was a laugh of relief.

“No! I-!” You groan again and lean against the closed door. Was it confession day or something?! “No, I’ve... I’ve liked you since third year.”

“What about first and second?” he fires back quick, grinning stupidly.

You don’t miss a beat. “I was scared of you, then. You were too loud.”

He barks out a laugh and you suddenly feel the urge to look away, feeling as if you’re intruding. And then you remember you’re not. It’s just you and Sirius here. So many times you’d seen that laugh from a distance, across a crowded Great Hall but now it was just for you.

Sirius speaks up once his laughter dies down. “Look, you don’t have to-”

“No, I want to-”

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable-”

“You haven’t! I just-”

“We can just go to class-”

“Sirius!” you say sharply, and he looks at you with wide eyes. “Kiss me. Please,” you say with a laugh, wanting him to shut up already.

He grins and then wastes no time in leaning forward, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You smell it again - cinnamon shampoo, cologne, new leather, and - very faintly - cigarettes and firewhisky.

You melt into the kiss, bringing you hands up to rest at the nape of his neck, idly playing with the strands of hair you find. It’s awkward at first, but you try your best to relax into it, following Sirius’s lead and just doing whatever comes naturally.

He pulls away and you slowly blink your eyes back open, willing yourself out of the trance Sirius’s lips had just put you in.

“Fast learner,” he whispers, smiling, and you laugh.

“We should get to class...” you suggest halfheartedly, not stepping away or making any move to leave.

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Probably...”

You both look at each other for a few beats, but then you each break into a smile.

And he kisses you again.

.

.

.

taglist <3 // @isxfisticated @l-adysansa @tomshollandz

[ilikefandoms]

Can I please request where Robby is trying to decide if he’s just friends or in love with the reader and he decides they’re just friends. And then they all go to a formal event and she shows up all dressed up and Robby is just like “nope, definitely not just friends, definitely in love” and he spends the night being jealous and longing before he finally confesses and they kiss??

Friends or More? - Robby Keene

Name/pronouns used - none, She/Her

A/N - I am in love with this request, I’m sorry I spent more time on the build up. My bad xx

Warnings - None

Word Count - 1710

You and Robby had been friends ever since he had joined Miyagi Do. You were friends with Sam beforehand, and so when Mr Larusso wanted someone to teach Karate, you were the first to volunteer.

Both of you started getting closer as training continued. Truth be told, you got along like a house on fire, always looking out for each other, in training, and out. At this point, you were practically best friends.

However, Robby wasn’t sure if he felt something more, and to be honest, you weren’t either.

**********

The annual Country Club Holidays Party was today, and You, Sam, and Robby had been invited by Mr Larusso to attend. You were looking forward to it, as you had never really been to a formal event before.

You and Robby were sitting underneath the tree at Miyagi Do, and the Holidays Party came up in discussion. “Robby come on, it’s not gonna be that bad,” 

“That’s easy for you to say. The last time you were in that club, you didn’t almost get kicked out, and have your ass beaten,” he said, referencing the last time you were there in the summer. 

“Okay that’s true, but your Mr Larusso’s guest, so if anyone has a problem, they have to take it up with him,” you reasoned.

“Okay, I guess you’re right,” Robby smiled.

“Yeah. Hey, do you know what your gonna wear?” you asked.

“Basically just a nice shirt and pants. I’m not really a suit guy,” he said, “What about you?”

“Dress and heals,” you said shrugging, “I didn’t really know what else to wear,”

“I didn’t either,” Robby chuckled.

“First time going to a formal party?” you asked.

“Yeah. first time for you too?”

“Oh, no I’ve been going to these since I was little,” you said, with blatant sarcasm, “I once went to the Mayor’s birthday party, and they personally complimented my social skills,”

“Wow, that must’ve been such an honour,” Robby said, going along with the joke. It was common knowledge that you weren’t the best in social situations.

“It really was. I’ve been invited every year since, but now they’re just too casual for me,” you put on a false posh tone, “I prefer the high end state formal dinners. Its much more up my alleyway,” 

You both laughed, “So, that’s a no?” Robby questioned.

”Yes Robby. That is a no,” you replied, smiling.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam’s voice made you both look around, “You ready?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a second,” you said, as she walked back to her car.

“Ready for...?” Robby asked, slightly confused.

“Sam and I are gonna get ready together, y’know makeup, and hair. That type of thing,” you explained.

“Ok, ok. I’ll see you later then,” He said.

You gave him a hug, “Yeah, I’ll see you later,”

You walked out of the dojo, and got into Sam’s car. “So, you and Robby huh?” Sam said, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“Shut up Sam. We’re just friends,” you told her.

“Friends that like each other maybe,” she said, which made you give her a look, “I’m just stating the facts,”

**********

“Hey, Y/N should I do my eyeshadow natural?” Sam asked, turning to look at you from her vanity.

“Umm...yes,” you replied.

“So...” Sam started, “...do you like Robby?” she asked, patting her first shade onto her lid.

“What? No, why would you think that?” you said, hoping that she would believe your lie.

“Y/N, come on! I see the way you look at him, and that is not the look of friendship,” she remarked.

You sighed in defeat, “Okay, maybe I do like him a little, but he probably doesn’t like me back, so-”

Sam cut you off, “Are you kidding? He totally does. Trust me,”

You didn’t believe her, but don’t argue with her. Its practically impossible to argue with Sam anyway.

The two of you continued to get ready, helping each other pick out shades of lipstick and eyeshadow, and giving advice on what do do with your hair.

You were both just about ready when Mr Larusso knocked on Sam’s bedroom door. “Girls are you two ready?” he shouted through the door.

“Yeah, dad! We’ll be out in a second!” Sam yelled back, before turning to you, “Are you ready for your first Country Club Holiday Party?” 

“Yeah, as ready as I can be I guess,” you replied, before asking, “Everyone that’s gonna be there isn’t like super formal right? I know I probably should’ve asked this earlier,”

“No it’s barely formal. The most formal thing about it is how it looks. Trust me the people are all normal. You have nothing to worry about,” she replied.

“Okay, good. Shall we?” you asked in mock formality, raising your arm for Sam to link.

“We shall,” she said, linking her arm. The two of you strode out of the door, and down the stairs, before the four of you piled into the car. Anthony - Sam’s brother - had been left with his grandma, as he was too young to attend.

**********

Mrs Larusso had attempted small talk while in the car, saying mundane things like ‘Are you excited’ and ‘I’m so glad that you could join us today’. Which didn’t really lead anywhere, but you appreciated it all the same.

When you walked in, you were in awe at the sight around you. Sam wasn’t kidding when she said it looks formal. Christmas trees sat in every corner of the rooms, fairy lights were strung up on the walls, and roses sat in the centre of every circular table.

“Wow,” you muttered under your breath.

“They really outdid themselves this year,” Mrs Larusso said, impressed, “Okay, you two girls can go off, do your own thing. If you need anything just text or come find me alright?” you nodded, and walked off, “No drinking!” she called after you.

“Hey Sam,” you said, “I’m gonna go talk to Aisha,”

“Okay Y/N. I’m going to go and get a drink, do you want anything?”

“no thanks, I’m good,” you said, and went over to Aisha.

Sam found the bar, and got herself a glass of water. She looked around, and saw Robby walk in, looking a bit out of place. She decided to walk over to him.

“Hey Robby,” she said as she approached, “You look nice,” referencing the black button-up shirt and  dress pants he was wearing

“Thanks, so do you,”  he replied, smiling at Sam, before scanning his eyes around the large room.

“Are you looking for Y/N?” Sam asked with a knowing look on her face.

“Don’t give me that face,” Robby said looking back over at Sam.

“I’m not giving you a face. She’s over in the corner with Aisha, just in case you wanted to know,” she told him, nodding over in your direction.

“Wow,” he said, as he laid his eyes on you. You looked stunning, your makeup was perfect, your hair was styled just so, and your dress compliment you perfectly.

“She looks good right?” Sam said, noticing Robby’s stare.

“Yeah, she looks amazing,” he smiled.

“Ok, don’t start drooling yet. Go up and talk to her,”

“What? No. Look, she’s with Aisha at the moment, and she’s having fun, and I don’t want to interrupt her,” he stumbled through his words.

“So are you gonna just stare at her all night, and not talk to her?”

“No, come on Sam,” 

“Robby, just talk to her, she’s your friend,”

“I will talk to her, alright?” he said. You were his friend, that was correct, but now he was seeing you as more than that. In fact, he had for a while, he was just realising it now.

“You like her don’t you?” Sam mentioned, glancing over at you.

“Yeah, I do,” Robby admitted. He was finally able to say it.

“Well, she definitely likes you too,” 

“Really? How do you know?”

“Well, one: its obvious, and two: she told me,” she told him, “so, what are you waiting for? Go talk to her!” 

“I will later. I promise,” Robby wasn’t quite ready to tell you just yet.

“You better,”

**********

Robby had spent most of the night by himself, occasionally talking to people that came his way. He was sending death glares to the guy that was talking to you. 

This was it, he was gonna do it. “Hey, Y/N!” Robby said as he approached you.

“Hey Robby, I haven’t seen you all night, where have you been?” you answered,

“Oh y’know, just around. can I talk to you, in private? Please?” he asked.

“Yeah sure. See you later,” you said to the guy.

Robby lead you outside, and turned to face you, “What did you want to talk about?” you asked.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said.

“Thank you, you look amazing too,” you replied.

“Thanks,” he smiled, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Yes, of course,”

Robby heart began to beat faster, “Okay, um. Y/N I really like you, and when you were talking to that guy over there it really sorta bummed me out, because I was too nervous to come talk to you today, but I really wanted too, but I knew that if i talked to you I’d have to say this so here it goes: Y/N would you maybe like to go out with me sometime?”

“Yes! Robby I really like you too,” both your smiles grew.

“Can I kiss you?” Robby asked. You nodded, and leant in. Your lips met, it was a soft - slightly short kiss, but it was enough. It was enough for you.

“Yes!” Sam’s voice shouted, making you both whip your heads around, “Sorry! I um... Called it. I’ll leave you guys be,” you both chuckled.

“May I have this dance my Dear?” Robby asked is a posh accent, making you laugh, and offered his hand to you.

“Yes, you may,” You smiled, placing your hand on his.

**********

The night had ended in the best way possible. Robby had kissed you goodbye, which prompted Sam to start her questions, asking exactly what had happened between you two. You just chuckled, and told her everything, with a smile on your face the entire time.

[jeonggukieverse]

Office Buddies

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: Idiots to lovers, Office AU!, Best friends AU, Friends To Lovers, fluff

Warnings: language, over dramatic reader (lol)

Word count: 2k+

Summery: Jungkook is your best friend. He has been since you both started working at the company. So when you see his teammates teasing him, it gets to you a little. You attempt to reassure him but ending up confessing more than you should have

A/N: This is my first ever story so it probably sucksss. Im open to critisismes and story suggestions. Ive wanted to write for a long time and I'm finally biting the bullet and doing it with a Drabble I've had in my drafts for a while. Hope you enjoy it anyways

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

You were absolutely fuming. You were enraged. You needed to find Jungkook. You spotted him chatting away on the phone on the other side of the office. He looked busy but at this point you didn’t care. You marched over to him, plopped yourself down on the spare chair and let out an exasperated huff. You could tell by his dishevelled demeanour that the phone call he was on wasn’t a pleasant one:

“That’s fine Mr. Kim, I’ll have them to you by tomorrow morni- Tonight? Oh-okay. Will do…”

Of course, it wasn’t pleasant. No conversation with Jinyoung was ever pleasant, especially when Jungkook was involved. You hated how Jinyoung treated Jungkook, it felt very exploitative especially when everyone in the office knows how shy Jungkook is and his aversion to the word ‘no’. To ask him to do more than his share was just cruel but then again, everyone in the stupid company was like that. Cruel. Cruel and patronising

As you were finishing your thoughts, Jungkook let out an exasperated huff of his own.

“what did he want this time?” you asked, curious as to what above and beyond task Jinyoung had given Jungkook.

“He wants a couple of reports written up and finalised by tonight” Jungkook trailed off as he wrote out his list of newly bestowed tasks on a sticky note

“How many is a couple?” You asked sceptically “Thirteen..”. At this point you were in even shocked anymore just frustrated.

“Jungkook, why don’t you just tell that lazy bastard to fuck off”

“Because I’ll be fired, princess” Jungkook repled. You hated that little name he had for you, don’t get me wrong you thought it was sweet but its origins rub you the wrong way. He had given it to you two years prior after one of your many, in his words, ‘tantrums’.

“why are you over here anyway, don’t you have reports of your own to be working on?” he cocked his head while he gazed at your still slouched figure.

However, his question reignited the anger that prompted you to even approach him.

“That’s what I came over to talk about. I need to rant a little and if I do it here, I’ll lose my job and be dragged out to the nearest mental facility. So, would you be so kind as to join me for lunch so I can get my feelings out away from the premises”.

He chuckled at how dramatic you are and gave you simple nod as he began to get ready. He popped on his long winter coat. You loved that coat on him. You loved everything he did.

“Where are you off to Jon Snow?” quipped one of the members of his team. The table of the chuckled in response. This had been a running joke for about a month now. Jungkook had started growing his hair longer at first you were sceptical but you curse yourself for ever having doubted the ability of jeon Jungkook’s face to make any hairstyle look good.

“Ha Ha” replied Jungkook both Ha’s dripping in sarcasm. You loved when Jungkook stood up for himself. It made you smile.

You both sauntered over to get your coat and you both walked out of the office doors. Everyone was used to seeing you and Jungkook together, ever since your first days here you two had been inseparable. You had met at your first day of training 5 years ago and hit it off pretty well. You two were the most perfect contradiction: He was, the quiet, shy boy that had his shit together and knew everything. You were you outspoken girl that had no idea what was going on. You made the best pair. That’s why he was your best friend.

Best friend

A very bitter sweet phrase to you. You couldn’t quite remember when you first fell in love with Jeon Jungkook but you knew your were head over heels for him and had been for some time. He was the perfect human being. Kind, friendly, dedicated, extremely gorgeous and absolutely out of your league. You knew he only saw you as a friend but, if that was enough for him, it was enough for you. You loved him as a person before anything else. If he was happy, so were you.

“So, what’s got you all riled up princess?” Jungkook questioned as you both sat at your regular table in Starbucks. This table has seen everything from tears of sadness to tears of joy and everything in between. This table was the cornerstone of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. At one point as you walked pass the shop you both spotted people in your spot to which you both admitted to each other that the sight made you both a little jealous. It was silly but it made sense to you both.

“Julie is a bitch. She absolutely has it in for me. I sent her Every. Single. Unreasonably demanding. Report. Yet it was somehow still wrong because I printed them on double sided paper. Sorry I care so much about the trees Julie. Why don’t you go outside and tell mother nature that you don’t give a fuck about the environment. Hmm, how about that Julie” you blurted your monologue before taking a targe sip of your Frappuccino. Jungkook stared into his black coffee trying to suppress his laughter.

“I’m sure she’s probably still mad that you turned her son down” Jungkook suggested trying to brighten your mood

The memory of that little cretin made you shudder “I thought we promised we’d never speak of that! Like, who thinks an appropriate way to start a conversation is ‘hey, nice ass he he he’” you cringed at the thought while Jungkook snorted at the idea. “I mean he wasn’t lying” Jungkook said still chuckling “Don’t you start!” you chuckled back trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach at the idea that Jungkook had checked you out before

“But in all seriousness, if you really feel like she’s targeting you report it to her manager” Jungkook suggested  

“Sweetheart, I could give you the same advice…” you retorted back

“That’s different, Jinyoung is the vice president of the company. If I show him, I can work hard, that looks really good on me and puts one step closer to my goal” Jungkook said staring into his coffee as he spoke. You could tell he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you. Jungkook’s goals were clear. Ever since his first day his goal has remained the same, he wanted to be the head of the advertising and marketing team. Jungkook was a big ball of energy and creativity just begging for an outlet. He had so many ideas all he was waiting for was the right person to ask him what they were. He had big plans and you wanted to see them all happen for him but at the same time, seeing him be walked over was too much for you to bare.

“I understand that but it’s still not fair JK. You got to tell him to shove it sometimes” you said with a light chuckle to soften the seriousness of your concern

“I know princess, I’ll try but until that time comes, I have thirteen reports to file by the end of tonight”.

“I’ll help you finish them! I’ll just stay a little later and we can work thorough them together!” you beamed. Jungkook was always the first to help when you had been given extra work cause Julie felt like you hadn’t suffered enough that day. “I won’t take no for an answer JK. Plus, I won’t even take credit so Jinyoung will think you did it all on your own. I will accept ice cream as my compensation instead”. Jungkook smiled at your antics and begrudgingly agreed to your terms.

As you trudged back to the office you couldn’t help but notice the way Jungkook’s hair blew in the wind. He truly was a sight to behold. He was an effortlessly ethereal being and it made you want to cry. You wanted to tell him how good it looked but you always hesitate to compliment Jungkook. You think that part of you is hesitant to because you’re scared, he might sense the deeper meaning behind your compliment and that terrified you. You were terrified of ruining this. But you were just complimenting a friend, right? I mean, Jungkook had complimented you many times. He would say things like ‘I’m in love with your new coat, it really looks good on you’ or ‘I’m in love with your hair today’ and you could tell it was just platonic so it wouldn’t make any difference if you did the same, right?

“I’m in love with your- “

“Do you need to b- “

You both spoke at the same time. You took this as your sign from the universe that those words shouldn’t have left your mouth.

“you go first haha” you quickly injected denying him any chance to question what you were about to say

“I was just gonna ask if you had to be home at a specific time?” Jungkook questioned

“Preferably before midnight cause you know beauty like this doesn’t just happen, ya girl needs her beauty sleep” you joked desperately trying to mask the sinking feeling that you were just seconds ago about to humiliate yourself. You desperately hope he’d move past and not ask what your intended words for him were. Fortunately enough for you, he did.

“Of course, princess, I’d never keep you up past your bed time.” You were only 9 months younger than Jungkook but boy did he never let you forget it. “Thanks grandad” you both chuckled at each other’s childishness before you strolled back into the office.

You reached your seat first and you watched Jungkook return to his.

“The king of the north has returned” snorted his desk mate

“Very funny Joe” Jungkook returned with humoured smile. Jungkook’s team loved to tease him but you do think they beat a joke to death sometimes.

A few hours into working you can still hear Joe teasing Jungkook about his hair. You understood Jungkook was a grown man who could take care of himself but he was also your best friend and you were fiercely protective of him. At this point you knew him like the back of your hand and you could tell the jokes were starting to get to him.

So, you whipped out your phone to text him what you were going to say earlier in person.

“I’m in love with you- “

Send

You stare at the delivered message underneath the blue bubble in disbelief. You were such an idiot. How the hell are you going to come back from this? Your whole world began to tumble as you began to imagine the worst scenarios’ possible. Was he going to think you were weird and stop talking to you? Was he gonna say ‘it’s probably best if we keep our relationship professional’? would he think you were joking? You prayed it was the latter.

After your panic, your mind went into damage control mode and you quickly began to type your explanation to him but before you could even hover your finger over the send button the terrifying deliver sign turned into something more sinister:

‘Read 14:12’

Your heart stopped. You looked up toward his direction before you could even think and he was already staring straight at you. Big Bambi eyes piercing your soul. Almost searching the inner crevices of your heart to see if you were telling the truth.

You prayed he wouldn’t see it. The honesty behind your mistake.

He looked down and began typing.

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand but your eyes never tore from his form. You had seen the way he threw his phone in his desk drawer after sending the message and your heart began to pound in your chest. This was the end.

You look down to check which way he chose to break your heart. You mustered the courage to read the words that would destroy you and they read:

“I’m in love with you too. Since that day that greasy dweeb asked you out, I knew I was in love with you. The thought of you potentially being with someone else almost tore me apart. I love you”

This was going to be a very interesting overtime session

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

Hope y'all enjoyed it

[rosiehunterwolf]

little things

Prompts: Hugs and Crying

Word Count: 3,251

Characters: Lloyd and Kai

Timeline: Immediately after episode 18 (Child's Play)

Trigger Warnings: Trauma, Brief panic attacks

Summary: "Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."

-Kurt Vonnegut

Lloyd’s tired of being left behind. How is he meant to be the green ninja when he always has to work harder, train better, and wait longer to go on missions with his team? He wants nothing more than to be their equal.

At least, that’s what he thought he wanted.

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

The trip back to the Destiny’s Bounty that night was thick with tension. No one spoke, but Lloyd could feel Kai’s gaze boring into him.

He wished the fire ninja would look at something else. He didn’t want to think about what he was looking at.

It had been Lloyd’s choice, and he knew it. Not that his range of options had exactly been wide when a huge, ninja-eating monster had been looming over them, but he had made the choice nonetheless.

He just hadn’t expected it to be like this.

He had thought that not being a little boy anymore meant he got to become stronger, fight better, and, of course, accompany the ninja on their missions.

But he hadn’t thought about the way his legs would become so much longer suddenly, forcing him to concentrate so he wouldn’t trip. Or how his hair would dangle too-long in his face, or how the green gi, on which the sleeves and pant legs had been rolled up a ridiculous amount of times, now fit perfectly. Reminding him too much of who he was and what he was meant to do.

Most of all, though, he hadn’t expected the gaping ache in his chest, like someone had ripped out his heart. He didn’t understand where it came from or what it meant, only that the sparkling display racks in the windows of Doomsday Comix had never felt more distant than they did now.

Their arrival at the monastery couldn’t come soon enough, and Lloyd began to dart down the hall, anxious to get away from the prying eyes of the others. Before he could get far, however, a hand snatched his wrist, and he looked back to see Kai staring at him apprehensively.

“Hey, bud. We’re here for you. You don’t need to go running off on your own.”

Lloyd shook his head. “I’m not. I just wanna go take a shower.” The voice that came from his throat wasn’t his, it was too deep. He didn’t even recognize himself anymore.

Lloyd repressed a shiver of dread, realizing Kai was still looking at him expectantly. “I got… there was a lot of rubble and dust when the Grundle caved in the roof, I just wanna get clean. I’m fine.”

Kai stared at him for a long moment, and for once Lloyd couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. Relenting, he let out his breath, dropping Lloyd’s wrist. “You’re not. But whatever.”

Lloyd merely nodded, realizing that wasn’t the most reassuring answer he could give, but being reluctant to hear his own voice again.

Forcing himself to turn away, he headed down the hallway, passing the ninja’s cabin and heading towards his room a little way down.

Uncle Wu had cleared out the small storage room for him that first night he had stayed on the Bounty, and it had been his ever since. He had appreciated the gesture, to have his own space away from the others, and it had always been a comforting little place for him.

But now, as he gazed around at it, the room itself wasn’t the only thing that was small anymore. The bed in the corner was no longer large enough for him, the mirror mounted on the wall was too low down, the Starfarer comics piled on the nightstand were too juvenile and suddenly much less interesting.

Lloyd sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes. There was no point lingering here. He might as well go take a shower like he had promised Kai.

But when he pulled open the drawer on his dresser, he paused, gazing down at the clothes.

Everything was too small. Of course it was.

Lloyd took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to push down the bubbling panic in his chest.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Letting out his breath again, he grabbed a pair of old, baggy pajama shorts that had always been too big on him anyway, and an undershirt from his gi.

Slipping through the halls, he made it to the bathroom at the end of the ship and quietly pulled the door shut behind him.

As he undressed, all he could focus on was his body, how it was bigger and older and different now. He forcibly shoved the thoughts out of his head before he had a breakdown and stepped into the shower.

Lloyd turned the shower as hot as it would go, barely even noticing as the water scalded his skin. He didn’t know how long he stood there, only that the water kept getting colder and colder until his teeth were chattering. Not even bothering to wash his hair, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a bath towel, pressing his face into it.

He couldn’t do this. He had thought he could handle it, but he couldn’t. Lloyd was barely clutching on to the last threads of his sanity, and he needed to get out of here.

Quickly changing into the shorts and undershirt, he walked over to the window and carefully pushed it open. Stars twinkled at him from the dark sky, and he glanced down. The bathroom was at the top of the ship, just behind the bridge, so it was about a twenty-foot drop to the ground- easily enough to break a leg.

Biting his lip, he grabbed onto the window frame and pulled himself out, gripping onto the side of the ship as his feet found purchase on the windowsill. As he slowly stood, he accidentally caught sight of his face in the reflection in the window and nearly slipped, gasping sharply as he just barely caught himself from falling.

Get yourself together, Lloyd. You’re still yourself, just a little older. Stop being such a crybaby.

Reaching up for the edge of the roof of the bridge, he hauled himself up and crawled back from the edge a bit. Staring out over the trees, the soft glow of the city in the distance, he glanced down at his hands. Fingers too long, palms too rough.

He hadn’t known it was going to be like this. All he had done was age up a few years. It was a small sacrifice to make, seeing as the Grundle would’ve killed them all otherwise. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. Lloyd shouldn’t have been acting so selfishly.

He wrapped his arms around his legs, curling up into a ball.

For the first time that night, Lloyd let himself cry.

---

Kai paced back and forth across the hallway. “Ugh! Why do I let him leave? I know he always locks himself in his room and never comes back to talk to me!”

Zane frowned. “I know this is difficult and confusing for you, Kai- it is for all of us. But Lloyd’s always been much less straightforward than you. Perhaps we should try a less direct approach.”

“You’re saying I should just let him sulk alone for the rest of the night?”

“What I’m saying is that maybe we should just give him a little time to himself, time to process, before we all go barging in to speak to him.”

“Just because Lloyd thinks he wants to be alone doesn’t mean he should be. Isolation isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Kai,” Cole sighed, “that’s not what we’re saying at all. This is just a sensitive situation for Lloyd, and we don’t want to provoke him the wrong way.”

“A sensitive situation?” Kai barked. “Don’t you think I know that? But I’m telling you, he needs someone! Don’t you see? That’s what he does! He tells us he’s fine, but he’s not! Of course he’s not! And- and I want to help him, but I can’t. When he needs me most, I have no idea what to do. Augh, why did I let him come with us? I knew it was too dangerous!”

“Kai,” Zane put a cool hand on his shoulder. “Calm down. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“Nothing I could’ve done?” Kai blinked up at him through watery eyes. “I was supposed to protect him.”

Nya squeezed his hand. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Kai. You can’t.”

“I’m not trying to. It’s just… hard. This isn’t some small little mishap we can go back and fix. This is big.”

“I know, but he’s strong. He’s going to get through it. I think Zane’s right, we should tread lightly. Although,” she paused, her brow furrowing, “I am starting to get pretty worried about him. He’s been in there a long time.”

“Wait,” Jay frowned. “In his room?”

“No, the bathroom.”

Kai’s head snapped towards her. “Wait, what? Did he go in there again?”

Nya shook her head. “I’ve been watching the door. He never left after he went in the first time.”

Cole glanced between them. “How long has he been in there?”

Kai’s gaze darted anxiously towards the bathroom door. “He went in there to take a shower nearly an hour ago.”

Cole’s eyes darkened. “Yeah, that’s too long. Let’s go.”

They hurried over to the bathroom door and the others hovered anxiously behind as Cole rapped his knuckles on the wood, leaning his ear against it. “Lloyd, you okay in there?”

There was no answer.

Cole knocked harder, and Kai could feel the anxiety building. “Lloyd? Bud? We just wanna talk.”

“Okay,” Nya breathed after a moment, “Lloyd’s as stubborn as a mule, but he doesn’t purposely worry us like this. Something’s wrong.”

“Zane,” Cole said, the struggle to keep calm evident in his voice. “Can you pick up anything?”

Zane stilled for a moment. “My sensors don’t detect any sign of movement.”

Kai’s heart skipped a beat. “Get me in.” Shoving past the others, he lunged for the door handle, yanking on it- but it didn’t budge. “He locked it! Why would he lock it?”

“We need a lock pick!” Jay yelped. “Nya, do you have a bobby pin?”

“I can get one, I’ll be right back!”

“Lloyd!” Cole yelled, banging on the door. “Open the door! Don’t do anything dumb!”

“Talk to us, bud!” Kai cried. “Please!”

“I’m back,” Nya huffed, skidding across the floor and holding out the pin. Jay snatched it from her hand and jiggled it in the lock, gritting his teeth. The others waited apprehensively as the seconds ticked by.

Jay pulled back with a sigh. “It’s not working.”

“Lloyd,” Kai moaned, “Open up!”

Cole glanced at them. “Should I break the door?”

Zane hesitated, then nodded. “Do it. We can always replace it later. Lloyd is more important.”

Everyone except for Cole stepped away from the door. The earth ninja held up his fists, and they glowed amber, the light spreading down his forearms.

“Stand back, Lloyd! I’m coming in!” Cole lunged forward, punching in the door and sending splinters of wood flying.

Kai darted to his side and stared into the bathroom, his breath caught in his throat.

Jay stepped around them, pulling back the shower curtain. Empty.

Just like the rest of the room.

“He’s not here?” Cole asked. “I just destroyed the door for nothing?”

“That’s impossible!” Nya yelped. “I saw him go in, and he never left! I’m positive.”

Kai’s eyes lingered on the far wall. “I know where he went.”

The others followed his gaze towards the open window, and Jay’s eyes widened. “He went out the window? That fall could seriously injure him!”

Kai shook his head. “He didn’t go down, he went up.” Glancing back at the others, he added, “Perhaps Zane had a point about the whole subtlety thing. Let me go talk to him first.”

The others exchanged reluctant glances, but stepped back.

Kai pulled himself out the window, balancing carefully as his fingers found the edge of the roof’s shingles. A chilly breeze hit him in the face, but he ignored it, hauling himself the rest of the way up with a soft grunt.

Lloyd was sitting a few feet away, curled in on himself as he stared off into the distance. Kai slowly eased his way over to him and the two sat in silence for a while.

Kai forced himself to look at the boy and felt a tug on his heartstrings. The way he sat there, so quiet and still, was as unlike Lloyd as his new appearance.

Kai shook his head. He couldn’t allow himself to think like that. No doubt Lloyd already had enough of those thoughts going through his head. This was still the same person. He was still Lloyd. He was still his little brother.

Kai leaned closer, allowing his shoulder to lightly bump against Lloyd’s. The green ninja gasped suddenly, as if just realizing he was there, and quickly scrubbed at his eyes. The action made him seem more like the young child that had been left behind. That, and the fact that he was shivering.

“Dude, you’re freezing!” He glanced down to see Lloyd was only wearing a pair of baggy shorts and a light tank top. “Why aren’t you wearing any proper clothes?”

Lloyd’s cheeks flushed, and he dipped his head, muttering under his breath.

“What?”

“I don’t have any proper clothes, okay?” More quietly, he added, “Nothing fits me anymore.”

Oh, Lloyd. “Hey, why didn’t you come to me? Y’know I’ve got way more clothes than I’ll ever wear, me and the guys would be more than willing to share stuff with you. And we’ll take you shopping, too, so you can pick out some stuff of your own. How does that sound?”

Lloyd sniffed, wiping an arm across his face. “Yeah, that sounds… that sounds good.”

“Here.” Kai slipped his sweatshirt off and draped it over Lloyd’s shoulders. “It’s not exactly warm out. Don’t make yourself sick.”

“Thanks.” Lloyd pulled the sweatshirt tighter around his shoulders, and Kai felt a small swell of relief as he noticed it was still a little big on him. So his little brother hadn’t grown up completely yet.

“Bud,” he said gently, “it’s fine if you come up here, but tell us before you do next time, okay? We were worried about you.”

Lloyd looked down, still refusing to meet his gaze. “Sorry. I just… didn’t really want anyone to follow me.”

“I know, but you can’t be alone forever. It’s not going to fix anything.”

“Being together isn’t going to fix this, either.”

Kai winced. “Not physically, no. But we’ll be here for you emotionally. We’ll help you heal.”

“But I can’t-” Lloyd stopped, sighing. “Sorry. I’m being selfish.”

“Selfish? How is any of this selfish?”

“Because! You guys were risking your lives, and I made the decision that saved you, yet I’m regretting I did!” “First of all, you’re not regretting you saved us, you’re regretting the other consequences that came out of the choice. Second, it wasn’t much of a choice at all. The Grundle backed you into a corner- literally- and that was the only logical solution at the time. It’s not fair. It shouldn’t have been you. You shouldn’t have been there. You shouldn’t have been forced to make a decision like that. But you were. So you have every right to be upset, every right to complain. That is not selfish.”

Lloyd finally turned to look at him, a helpless, floundering expression on his face.

Kai took pity on him, putting an arm around him. “Lloyd, I’m here. Whether you wanna talk, or scream, or cry, or just need someone to lean on, I’m here.”

“I… I don’t know what to do, Kai. I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

“You are. You’re still the same Lloyd, still our friend, our little brother, our charge. This changes nothing between us. We’re gonna take care of you, okay?”

Lloyd sniffed, putting his hands over his face, and Kai elbowed him gently. “It’s okay to cry, y’know. No one’s gonna judge you for it.”

“But I… I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“So? Everyone cries! It’s natural, and it doesn’t matter how old you are! I’ve cried, I’ve seen Cole cry, Jay cry, I’ve definitely seen Nya cry, and Zane- well, actually, I haven’t seen Zane cry. But that’s only because he’s a nindroid and physically can’t cry. He still gets upset sometimes, though.”

“I know, but… I just feel like I should be able to handle things better.”

“Are you crazy? I’d go insane if I suddenly just aged several years in the span of seconds. Compared to me, you’re handling it like a champ.”

Lloyd didn’t look at him. “Not really. I feel like a wreck right now.” His last words caught on a sob, and Kai glanced over at him, apprehension budding in his chest.

“Are you okay?”

Lloyd blinked rapidly, trying and failing to stop the tears spilling from his eyes. “Not really.”

“Can I hug you?”

Lloyd hesitated but nodded, and Kai wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Lloyd’s shoulders, pulling him close.

Kai didn’t know how long they sat there, but it was a while before Lloyd broke the silence. “Do you think the Final Battle is coming sooner, now that I’m older?”

“I don’t know. But whenever it is, I’m gonna be there. Even if that means I have to kick Garmadon’s ass for you.” He bit his lip, grinning sheepishly. “Shoot, I didn’t mean to say that in front of you.”

Lloyd snorted. “I already know that word.”

“Wait, who taught you that? Was it Nya? I bet it was Nya.” “It wasn’t any of you. I grew up at Darkley’s, what do you expect? That isn’t the only choice word I know.”

Kai’s eyes widened. “Don’t you dare tell Zane, he’ll have a fit.”

A brief smile flickered across Lloyd’s face, the first once Kai had seen all night.

“Hey, if I’m grown up now, I should at least get to use some bad words once in a while.”

“Not happenin’, bro,” Kai grinned. “You’re not that grown up yet.”

“I could be fifty and you’d still say that.”

“What can I say, you’ve got a baby face,” Kai smirked, putting his hands on either side of Lloyd’s head.

“Stop that,” Lloyd grumbled, pushing him away. “‘M not a baby.”

“You are, and no dumb tea can change that.”

Lloyd bit his lip, trying to look away, but Kai forced his head to turn, looking him in the eye.

“Lloyd. It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend like it’s all fine. Let it out.”

Lloyd gasped, half falling into his lap, and Kai gripped him tight. It’s gonna be okay, he told himself. He’s going to be okay. We all are.

Lloyd’s path had been difficult from the beginning. It wasn’t fair that all this had been thrown on him- he was just a kid, even now. But it had been, and Kai had an awful feeling that this wouldn’t be the worst hardship his youngest teammate would have to endure.

But next time he would do better. He was one of the four elemental masters of the elements of creation. It was his job to protect Lloyd, to keep him safe.

It made his heart break to see Lloyd, usually so spunky, so unshakable, like this, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure it didn’t happen again.

But for now, he just hugged the green ninja.

He hoped, with time, it would be enough to heal him.

[novoaa1writes]

honest

pairing(s): daisy johnson x nb!reader, melinda may & nb!reader (familial)

summary:

coming out is never easy—even when you’ve got reliable people in corner.

contains: angst & fluff with happy ending

(also available on ao3.)

word count: ~2,000

rating: teen

warnings: sparring, self-doubt; anxiety (not chronic); muscle pains, bruises, and aches (from exertion); mild language; coming out; discussions of gender and sexuality

notes: 

in my head, this is staged at the playground somewhere in season 2-3ish of marvel’s agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

— —

disclaimer: this is in no way reflective of the experiences of all non-binary individuals everywhere. as someone who’s recently had the realization that i am Not Woman and Not Man and has been subsequently made to have some rather difficult conversations with those closest to me about changing up pronouns, this is simply based off of my own experience and struggles with my gender / sexuality. it’s a uniquely personal thing to come to terms with, and it’s different for everyone.

feel free to message me if you’d like to talk about it!

— —

You let out a long, slow breath, eyeing yourself critically in the bathroom mirror. 

Nervous eyes, shower-damp skin, lower lip swollen and puffy from biting it relentlessly—an obtrusive testament to the overwhelming abundance of unease ballooning in your chest.

Yeah. Seems about right. 

“C’mon, Y/N,” you grumble, taking great care to pitch your voice well below the hum of the fan overhead. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

The more insistent you become, the less you believe it. 

“It’s just Daisy,” you continue, silently willing yourself to remain undeterred by the crushing doubt that gnaws away at your insides. “She’ll understand.” 

... But will she?

You frown at your reflection, skin prickling with frustration. “And if she doesn’t…” you trail off, hating the quiver in your voice for betraying your weakness. “If she doesn’t, then you shouldn’t be with her anyways.” Your voice comes out stronger this time, even if the words themselves are enough to scare you shitless. 

You like Daisy. Could grow to love her, even. 

Being with her… it’s made you the happiest you’ve ever been in your entire life, and damn it all, but you mean that. 

“She’s going to understand,” you say aloud. “She will.”

God, you pray that that’s true. 

— —

7:00am sees you getting your ass thrown violently all across the mats by an ever-indomitable Melinda May, racking up bruises and scratches and aches like no one’s business. 

By the time 9:00am hits, you’re a wheezing mess, sprawled spread-eagled atop the sparring mats—lungs on fire, chest heaving for breath; sweat-drenched skin littered with technicolored bruising.

In short, it’s hellish. 

“C’mon,” May urges, tone curt and even. She looms imposingly down upon you from above, a decidedly unamused expression gracing her elegant features—and, get this: not a single hair out of place, nor a hint of labored breathing. 

You groan and squint up at her, searching for—

A-ha!

There, just above one immaculately-manicured brow and, like, two millimeters beneath her hairline—a tiny little droplet of perspiration. As you watch, it seems to absorb itself into her flawless skin—disappearing before your eyes like it was never even there. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you grumble. 

May just raises a single brow, offering you a hand up. “Up.”

You frown at her but don’t push your luck; rather, you accept the proffered hand and allow her to pull you to your feet. Your arms and legs and abdominal muscles all scream in protest as you lurch upright into a flat-footed stance, but you grit your teeth and bear it. 

Training with May—torturous (and often humiliating) as it may be—is voluntary. Something you chose, and continue to choose even despite the unadulterated hell it puts your body through with every swift kick and bone-jarring punch.

Not only that, you’re lucky to study opposite someone as fearless, skilled, and fucking terrifying as Melinda May. 

Even when your limbs are all ache-y and sore and burning with a pain beyond your years, you know that. 

Still… 

You probably could’ve done without this today. After all, getting your ass kicked for a solid two hours all across the mats doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. And, considering the conversation you plan to have with Daisy this afternoon, you’re gonna need to muster up all the confidence you can get. 

— —

“Spit it out,” May prompts, sidling up to match you stride for stride as you take a couple cool-down laps around the miniature track (¼ the size of a regulation model)... walking, that is. Not jogging. 

Honestly, you think that if you even tried jogging right now, you’d pass out. 

You spare her a sidelong glance as the two of you round the bend, perfectly in sync. “What?” 

May purses her lips, giving you a look. “You were sloppy today,” she remarks pointedly. “Distracted.” 

Her stare seems to burn holes through the side of your head. 

“Wow, thanks,” you mumble. The sardonic quip tastes funny coming off your tongue.

“You were off today,” May reiterates, sidestepping your wisecrack entirely. Her footsteps are soundless even as the soles of your beat-up Air Force Ones slap the tread audibly with every stride. “That doesn’t happen often.”

“Sure it does.” You shrug. “You kicked my ass today, same as always. If you ask me—” You hesitate briefly at the look on May’s face, which is plainly screaming ‘I didn’t’ “—today’s been anything but out of the ordinary.” 

“You’re a terrible liar,” May remarks without missing a beat. It’s like she didn’t even hear you (which you damn well know that she did). 

Still, you don’t do her the disservice of arguing the point any further. 

You walk another ten paces in perfect silence—no, twelve. You know because you count each one. 

Unsurprisingly, you’re first to break the immersive quiet. “I think I want to tell Daisy.”

May’s impartial expression doesn’t change. “About?”

You almost roll your eyes, but manage to curb the impulse at the very last second. “You know what about.”

Hell, May was the first person you told. You came to her quarters hyperventilating in the dead of night, tears streaming down both cheeks and a sense of such deep-seated discomfort swelling in your chest, your ribs positively ached with the force of it.

“I want to hear you say it.”

You bite your lower lip, apprehension gnawing at your insides. “About…” You trail off, internally scolding yourself. This shouldn’t be so fucking hard. “About me being… non-binary.” 

Non-binary. 

What a flimsy little term. So matter-of-fact… almost scientific in nature. And yet, the way it affects you is nothing short of visceral—all-encompassing and monstrous, compressing your very lungs in an iron-clad vice until it’s agony to draw breath. 

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts ; voicing this simple reality that’s plagued you since you were very small, looming malignantly in the margins of everything you do… and yet, the truth of it rings keen and strong in your ears—clear as a bell.  

It’s liberating and frightful all in one; a grating juxtaposition, to be clear.

“Yes.” The sound of May’s uncharacteristically gentle intonation cuts clean through the blaring noise in your head, yanking you out from a sea of inner turmoil with startling decision. “I’m proud of you.”

Her words—gently-spoken as they may be—hit you like consecutive sucker punches to the gut. “What?” you choke, forcing out a breathless chuckle. 

May—predictably—is staunch, unyielding… wholly undeterred. “You’re being true to yourself,” she insists, matching you step for step as you start in on lap two. Your chest burns something awful and your legs aren’t much better, but you pay it little mind. “That’s no small thing.”

“It’s terrifying,” you tell her. As far as you’re concerned, that’s something of an understatement.

She nods. “It often is.”

“What if… What if I tell her and she doesn’t like me anymore?”

May raises a single brow. “Daisy, a known bisexual who has stated on more than one occasion that the gender binary is ‘stupid’ and ‘exclusionary’? Daisy, who’s been on dates with more than one openly non-binary person in the past?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” 

May—bless her heart—doesn’t snort or sigh or roll her eyes, but you can tell it’s not for lack of wanting. Instead, she merely slants you a pointed look that says, ‘Exactly.’

You walk the next six strides in silence, your feet aching in your shoes.  

“I’m going to tell her,” you say eventually, a tinge of cautious certainty creeping into your tone. You don’t know who you’re trying to convince—yourself, or May. 

All the same, May is nothing if not steady and dependable amidst stormy seas; she always knows just what to say. (Or, what not to say, as it were.) 

There are no tears, no hugs, no flowery platitudes… nothing but a sharp nod of approval and the barest hint of a grin curving her lips, like she sees you for who you are and she approves—like she’s proud, even. You don’t know how else to translate the tender mercy in her eyes, the way it seems to warm you from the inside out. 

Yeah, you can tell Daisy. 

You’re going to tell Daisy. 

And May’s gonna be right there beside you the whole time.

— —

In retrospect, you definitely could’ve gone about this better. 

Like, you weren’t exactly going for the kind of heartfelt reconciliation you’d see in some coming-of-age sap-fest movie on the big screen; and it’s not as though there’s an exact script to follow for all this, but… 

Pulling away from a decidedly heated kiss to blurt out, “I’m not a woman”—and doing so while you’re half-naked and straddling the lap of a similarly scantily-clad Daisy in bed, no less—definitely hadn’t been your first choice. 

Judging by the expression on Daisy’s pretty features—which is caught somewhere between taken aback and genuinely concerned—she’s coming to the same conclusion.  

To her credit, though, she recovers quickly—though the crease between her brows (a testament to her lingering bewilderment) remains. “What?”

You swallow thickly, carding your fingers through her tousled hair—a nervous habit of yours you’d developed as of late. “I’m…” You sigh, apprehension building in your chest. “I’m not a woman.”

Daisy’s brows raise marginally even as she offers a shallow nod, wide attentive eyes steadfastly holding yours. “Okay…” she begins gently, rubbing circles into the bare skin above your left hipbone with a callused thumb—a subtle nudge for you to continue. 

“I just—I don’t feel like a woman,” you say, and this time it’s easier, even if the sheer measure of honesty in that statement is enough to make your stomach turn. “And I don’t feel like a man, either.”

Understanding flares in Daisy’s pretty brown eyes. “Okay,” she says again. “So, you’re not a woman…” She pauses, dipping her head to place a feather-light kiss upon your shoulder. “And you’re not a man,” she continues, lifting her jaw to study you face-to-face, the tip of her pert nose brushing up against your own. “Which means… ?”

“I’m, um,” you squirm a bit, shifting atop her bare thighs, “... non-binary.” Your cheeks are hot, burning with shame, and you have never been so grateful that your skin is tawny enough to conceal it. 

Daisy doesn’t blink. “Okay,” she replies, then leans forth to place a barely-there peck atop your lips. 

You frown down at her, lips tingling. “‘Okay’?” you repeat.  

Daisy grins, leaning in for another kiss—and you’re all too quick to indulge her even as your thoughts spin and disbelief wars violently with consternation within your chest. 

Her lips are soft and warm against your own; when her tongue flits out to trace your lips, you’re parting them in an instant to meet her halfway; the sensation of kissing her is nothing short of euphoric, and you surrender willfully unto it like leaves in the brisk autumn wind. 

Seconds pass, or maybe it’s minutes, but she’s catching your lower lip between her teeth and you’re sucking on the tip of her tongue and— 

Quite suddenly, the kiss has become nothing short of filthy—all open-mouthed and desperate and bruising just how you like, and damn it all, but you can finish the rest of the conversation another time.

For now… well. You’re preoccupied with other things.  

— — 

(Later that night, when you’re both laid up in bed and drifting off to sleep, Daisy asks if you’d like her to start referring to you as ‘they’ and ‘them’ rather than ‘she’ and ‘her.’

When you answer in the affirmative, telling her that nothing would make you happier, the sheer measure of honesty in your words doesn’t feel nearly as nauseating as it did before. 

In fact, it’s rather the opposite.

The way Daisy reacts—a murmured, “Okay”; a feather-light kiss upon your forehead; two strong arms pulling you closer in the dark… well. That’s just icing on the cake. 

Despite everything—the self-doubt, the second guessing, the aching soreness settling into the very marrow of your bones—you feel yourself break out into a broad grin beneath the pitch-dark cover of night.

You feel good; comfortable in your own skin. You feel… happy.)

— —

end notes: i want melinda may to be my friend.

LINK TO MASTERLIST

[krispytidalwavesheep]

a Natasha x fem!reader where Nat has been distant and reader thinks shes cheating, but in actuality she lost the engagement ring she got for reader (maybe because of another team member 👀) and is trying not to let her find out

My lovely anon, thanks for the prompt! I added a lot of backstory, I hope you still like it!

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You and Natasha have been together for the better part of three years and you always thought you two were happy. When you joined the team 4 years back, and you got along like a house on fire, since your pasts were quite similar. Natasha was a victim of the red room and you were a victim of Hydra. They ripped you away from your family when you were still a child and trained you to become one of the best assassins they ever had. They took everything from you, broke you into pieces, and put you together just the way they needed you. But you were very stubborn, waiting for a chance to escape their clutches.

And 6 years ago, your chance came. Some Shield Agents were infiltrating one of your bases and as luck would have it, you were right in the middle of it, taking Hydra Agents out left and right. That's where you met Clint, after the worst of the fighting was over he held you at gunpoint, demanding answers. You couldn't help yourself, all your pent up emotions broke free and you broke down crying, telling him everything. Maybe it was the relief that came with the realization that it was finally over and that you were finally free. Or so you thought.

Even though Clint pitied you and stood up for you, they still took you in for questioning. But you weren't bothered all that much by that, since you understood where they were coming from. You have been with Hydra for almost twenty years, of course, they wouldn't trust you, just because you broke down in front of one of their best agents. Still, you were afraid. What would they do to you? Would they torture you for information and kill you, cast you away once you outlived your usefulness?

They put you in chains and you went willingly. Agent Hill got the job of questioning you and you gave them everything you've got. Locations, double agents, everything you thought would keep you alive for just a little while longer. Your cell wasn't all that bad, and sometimes Clint would come over to check up on you, asking about what they did to you. That was the hard part. You knew they sent him to test if you would be trustworthy, or if you would betray them, just like you betrayed Hydra.

It wasn't easy to tell them everything. You were scared that Hydra would get back to you and it would all be over. They would torture you, kill you in the worst possible way. Hydra didn't like loose ends.

“I know someone who is quite like you... Less open though. We couldn't get any information out of her for months. But then again, her circumstances were a bit different than yours” Clint told you one day, and you got curious.

“Her name is Natasha, but don't tell anyone that I told you that. Especially her, if you're ever gonna meet her” he said and scratched his neck.

“So I am still not trustworthy?” You asked bitterly, getting tired of all the questioning. It has been months and you already gave them all you got, including your sad backstory.

“Don't give up just yet y/n... I think you won't be a prisoner for that much longer” Clint smirked and winked. And he was right. Two weeks later you were set free, under one condition: You had to join shield as a special agent. Of course, you agreed, since it would keep you safe from Hydra too. But they wanted to test you and test you they did. That was when you first met Natasha and the second you saw her, you knew you were done for. You seduced many men and women when you were with Hydra, and a lot of those people were stunning. But you never met someone so beautiful.

“So you are the Hydra-Girl?” she asked matter of factly when she entered your cell. You didn't know what to say to that, still mesmerized by her. Later you would say that it was love at first sight, just to mess with her.

“Uhm... yeah? Unless you took other stray Hydra-Girls in, that is” you stuttered. She smiled at that and said, “They want me to test your combat abilities.”

You already thought that that was the reason why they sent her and you followed her eagerly, happy to be out of your cell for once. She took you to the basement of the building, where they had the biggest training room you have ever seen. Clint was there too.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” he smiled and to your utter surprise, fist-bumped you. You hadn't much time to talk though, since Natasha motioned for you to get into position.

“Don't hold back. I won't either” she said and crouched. You smiled and got into position too. It was a surprisingly long fight since you hadn't had much time to work out in your cell and with all that questioning. But what after felt like hours you had Natasha pinned down to the ground.

“Wow... I don't think anyone ever managed that!” Clint whooped from the sidelines and you grinned, helping Natasha up.

“Nice work Rookie. My name is Natasha Romanoff and Clint and I will keep an eye on you from now on. I'll bring you back to your room, where you can get settled. After that, we will show you around the facility.”

And that's where your life finally truly began. Most people were still cautious with you, but Natasha, Clint and you developed a fast friendship. You soon became the resident Hacker for Shield, since they didn't want to risk losing you to Hydra on field missions. You were the gal in the chair and you were content. And soon enough, Fury trusted you enough to make you a part of the Avengers. Right about the same time you confessed to Natasha that you fell in love with her and to your utter surprise, she felt the same way. You two were happy, sure, not everything was sunshine and rainbows, mostly because the two of you suffered such huge traumas. But at the end of the day, everything was worth it and you finally felt like you belong.

That is why you were upset right now. Natasha was acting weird, distancing herself from you. Most nights she even slept in her room, which only happened if you had a huge fight and never for more than one night. You were barely talking anymore, not for a lack of trying on your part though. She just slipped away more and more and you wondered where you went wrong. You tried talking to her on more than one occasion, but she would always have another excuse as to why she couldn't talk right now.

The worst was yet to come, though. You finally managed to corner her and you were pretty sure she couldn't slip away that easily now, but of course, she didn't. She just mumbled some excuse of going on an overnight mission with Clint, but that she would talk to you when she got back. Funny enough, when you wandered to the compound kitchen later that night, Clint sat beside Peter, happily talking about some archery tricks.

“Oh, I thought you were on an overnight mission with Natasha?” you frowned as you entered the kitchen and Clint looked... guilty? What was going on? And then it hit you. Natasha was cheating on you, she must have found someone else and that was the reason she was behaving so weirdly.

“List y/n I can explain-” Clint tried but you just growled at him and went back to your room. You couldn't believe it. You thought you and Natasha were happy, that you loved each other and were faithful. But somewhere along the way, she must have tired of you and someone else took your place. Anger overwhelmed you at that thought. How could she do that to you? And why didn't she tell you that she wasn't loving you anymore?

There was a small knock at your door, but you just shouted for them to go away. It was probably Clint with some shit-ass excuse and you didn't want to hear it. It was the ultimate betrayal. He knew that something was going on, but just like Nat, he choose to not tell you. Some friend he was... Tears were streaming down your face again and you collapsed onto your and Nat's shared bed. What did you do that everything went downhill? Were you just not enough anymore?

Self Doubt and guilt wracked you until the early morning sun shone into your room. You felt disgusting but you didn't care for one bit. There was another knock on your door different this time.

“Whoever it is, go away or I will break your fucking legs!” you shouted, but the door opened anyway. Natasha stood in the doorway, looking like a guilty puppy and soaking wet.

“Oh no, get your ass outta here. No wait, explain yourself first! Why would you do that to me? Why not just tell me that you don't love me anymore!” you sobbed and tried to get up, but your legs got tangled in the bedsheets.

“Y/n let me explain, please!” Natasha begged desperately and walked into the room.

“Explain what? That you are fucking cheating on me? I got that all by myself since Clint wasn't a part of your suspicious overnight mission!” you growled and gave up on getting on your feet.

“It's not like that! Please, just give me five minutes to explain myself, okay?”

You hated yourself for nodding, but you wanted answers more than anything.

“I'm not cheating on you babe, I love you too much to hurt you like this. This is all Clint's fault.” You scoffed at that. “Shit, I know this sounds horrible. Okay, listen, I was acting so weird because I was nervous. No, not nervous, terrified. Baby, I love you more than anything in this universe, never doubt that. I... I wanted to ask you something. But I didn't know how, because I've never done anything like that before. I had this big plan, that's why I was so distant because I was preparing. But then Clint had to go and lose the fucking ring I got for you-”

“Hang on. What ring? What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, slight panic and confusion evident in your voice. It couldn't be, could it?

“Okay, then we are doing it this way... I want to ask you to marry me, y/n. But when I showed Clint the ring he just had to stumble and drown it in the river. That's why I told you I had an overnight mission, I wanted to go and find the ring.”

“Are you stupid?” you choked and Nat looked at you, jaw-dropping. “Excuse me?” she asked but you started giggling. Nat was such a fucking idiot.

“Are you telling me, that you went out of your way, to search for the lost ring, in the middle of the night, where it is dark as fucking hell out there?” you started cry laughing now. You were so relieved.

“Oh just great, you are laughing your ass off, while I stand here, soaking wet, mind you, opening my heart up to you,” Nat pouted but you finally managed to break free from the bedsheets. You collapsed into her arms, sniffling and hugging her tight, rubbing her arms.

“You are the biggest idiot on this planet love. But you are my idiot. I love you more than anything too, and since you lost your ring, maybe we could use the one that I bought for you,” you whispered and kissed Nat's nose...

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I am still taking prompts, so hit me up if you have something for me!

[sweeethinny]

Boss's son

Summary: Ginny is an auror in training, with few hours of fun in her schedule, but when one night she decides to go to a guy's house and enjoy her youth, she is surprised by the discovery that she had sex with her boss's son

prompt: "You’ve got to stop doing that" "Doing what?" "Saying things that make me wanna kiss you"

"Mum thinks I'm dating you".

Notes: I thought I couldn't finish this, really, I found myself stuck and not knowing where to go with the story, but then some things happened and I managed to finish it.

Thank you very much to Dusk who read and helped me, and thank to @clarensjoy who made this incredible event to celebrate this incredible date!

I feel that this role reversal would be good to write, and it really was, I think the idea of Ginny being an auror ... Chief's kiss :)

AO3

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Ginny Weasley

Ginny did not have many fears, she had joined the Aurors in less than three years and until now she had faced death many times to be frightened by small things that other people could easily be haunted by. Dementors no longer scared her, nor Death Eaters, or anything like that, Ginny was no longer scared like a puppy in distress. She had learned to deal with situations, Mr Potter was a great boss - she would never say otherwise - but he also scared his pupils like no one else, saying that being on the alert was the best way to be a good Auror.

'Good aurors do not shake when they see the danger, they assess the situation and try to find the solution as soon as possible. Take a minute, and you will be dead.' He said in defense classes, standing on the podium with that typical scowl on him, arms crossed, watching the students trying to knock down the mannequins around the room.

But now, Ginny was mortified.

She felt her knees tremble, and she even felt the high heel in her fingers almost falling to the most manicured marble floor she had ever seen in her life. Her eyes were wide open, an immense desire to disappear completely, or to oblivion the man in front of her.

Her boss. Oblivion her fucking boss.

Ginny almost never had time to go out with guys, she went to the bar, drank, and then came home too tired to endure a round of bad sex, with some man who would cry in her ear about how hot she was and how he couldn't take it any longer. She would rather sleep, and later use her fingers, than have to put up with these guys, and clean up the mess later.

Yesterday however, it was a different day, Mr Potter, the most serious man Ginny had ever met in her life, was happy and told her that he was celebrating twenty years of marriage. They were in a distant village, checking a call from a lady who said she saw a wizard kill another one around those parts, but even that didn't seem to be able to wipe the smile off the man's face.

'Twenty years. Can you believe it?' He sighed, looking over to where the woman said there was a body, kicking what was filthy wrapped in old newsprint. Just a dead dog. 'Twenty years...'

'You look very happy,' Ginny said. 'Congratulations, Mr Potter.'

'Thank you, Miss. Weasley, and yes, I am very happy.' The man once again assured that the place was clean before checking to see if there were any dark arts nearby, or on the animal. Nothing. 'Come on, we just wasted time here.'

She had left earlier that day, Mr Potter said he was too happy to be sitting at the office table waiting for something to happen, and since she was his pupil, and she would also have to sit around waiting for some action, she could leave earlier.

Ginny didn't know much to do with that free time, she was usually always bogged down with work, so when Luna asked her out, she accepted. It was a nice night, the bar was not so crowded, there weren't so many disgusting guys leaning against her and whispering in her ear, and she was really enjoying the night, happy, laughing, talking to her friends, drinking, until she saw him.

He was sitting a few tables away, with some Arrows players, drinking and laughing out loud, drawing the attention of all the women around. At first, Ginny thought he was doing it to get attention, messing up his hair like an idiot, throwing his head back to laugh, talking loudly and rocking in his chair. But when a blonde went to talk to him, the boy seemed surprised by the attention, and even blushed, before smiling and politely denying, saying something more to her - this time, in a low voice.

The mysterious man looked at Ginny then, catching her in the act, his eyes behind the round glasses seeming to sparkle with amusement. He bit his lip and raised his beer mug in a silent toast. She did the same, wishing she hadn't been hit hard by him.

'Hello.' He said when Ginny went to the bar to get another round. The man didn't touch her, not even her shoulders, or whisper in her ear. He kept a good distance, smiling politely and ordering his beers.

'Hi.' Ginny smiled, leaning against the counter, feeling a little stupid for wanting the man to notice how beautiful her legs looked in those black skirts. 'Isn't the blonde your type?' She asked, a little sassy because of the alcohol, and also a little affected by how beautiful his green eyes were, stuck in her face as she spoke.

'No. I just came to drink. 'He put his hand on the counter, and Ginny didn't know if it was a way to show that there was no ring on his fingers, or just something casual. Anyway, she realized how all his fingers were free of any silver or gold. 'Is that you?'

'Too. My boss gave me an hour off. It doesn't happen every day. 'She smiled, shrugging.

'An asshole boss?' He raised his eyebrow, leaning on the counter too, now a little closer to her, but without touching her.

'Sometimes.' She joked.

Now Ginny felt mortified, standing on the stairs with her shoes in hand, her hair in a messy and badly done bun, and probably still with makeup traces on her face. Besides that bite mark on her neck. She was taking the walk of shame in front of her boss. The boss that she said was an asshole - sometimes - last night.

She had fucked with her boss's son! Merlin, how stupid she had been to overlook the similarities.

Standing now, looking at Mr. Potter, Harry was an identical copy of him, only a few years younger, and his eyes, of course, that were green. But still, she couldn't even believe it.

Ginny looked like a bitch in front of her boss.

'Good morning.' It was he who said it first, his eyes wide, seeming to try at all costs to remain in her face. Ginny suddenly felt almost naked, thinking about how that shirt was low-cut.

'Good morning, Mr Potter,' she replied, startled, holding tightly to the wooden railing, thinking about how Harry had pressed her there, almost fucking her on the stairs. Ginny swallowed.

The man just nodded, walking hurriedly into the kitchen, his cheeks flushed and avoiding looking at her as much as possible. Ginny ran out of the house as fast as she could, not even waiting to see if he was going to ask her out for breakfast. Merlin, she would see you at work in less than an hour!

Ginny apparated to her home, safe and without a boss catching her leaving his son's room, after having sex with the hottest man she had ever met. By Merlin's underpants, she was lost.

[...]

The atmosphere between the two was completely tense, Ginny and James barely met each other's eyes, or talked in general, she remained at her desk working with the papers they were carrying out, while Mr. Potter remained in his own office, calling her rarely .

Her career was ruined.

Mr. Potter would never refer her to any job again, and maybe he would trade her for the idiot Elliot. Elliot did not have sex with his son and sneaked out the next morning.

It wasn't hidden at least, she needed to work and Harry was sleeping, she left a note saying that.

'Miss. Weasley, come here please.' He called her, as he usually did, but now it seemed that all of her teachings about never letting your opponent realize that you were scared, had gone down the drain. Ginny could already taste the dismissal.

‘Yes, Mr. Potter?’ Ginny stopped at his office door, her knees trembling behind her pants, her hands sweating.

‘Please come in and close the door.’ She would be fired, or changed. Elliot the idiot was going to win the job she had worked so hard to get. She would never be a well-qualified Auror now, she would remain working only as a watchman for the rest of her life. Forget about promotions, trips to specializations, forget about even missions in the field, she would stay locked up in the office forever, visiting only the old women who always thought they had seen something.

All this because she wanted to have sex with a hot guy.

‘About today earlier-’

'I'm sorry, Mr. Potter.' Ginny interrupted him. ‘I didn’t want it to happen, if I had known-’

'I think if you want to apologize, it will have to be for my son and not for me.' James smiled, his cheeks slightly flushed. He took off his glasses to clean them, but Ginny thought it was an excuse for not having to look her in the eye. ‘About today earlier, I don’t think either of us wants to argue about or keep reminiscing about the event. Maybe we should just forget that we saw each other, and go on with life like that ... I think Harry was a little ... er ... worried about not seeing you for breakfast, but I didn't say anything to him. I would, of course, invite you to join us, but when I came back you were already gone...'

'Thank you.' Ginny sighed. ‘What happened in the morning?’

'That is why I chose you as my pupil, Miss. Weasley.' James also sighed, adjusting his glasses on his face. 'But I must tell you that Harry is coming to have lunch with me. If you want to .. I don’t know, leave early for lunch… I don’t know how your relationship with my son is… ’

'It's okay.' She tried not to remember that she had spoken badly about her boss to Harry. Harry's father. ‘Thank you, Mr. Potter, again.’

'You're welcome.'

Ginny didn't want to prove that she was a coward running away from Harry, or to make Mr. Potter think she had any reason to run away from him. So Ginny stayed, stomping her feet anxiously and trying to concentrate on the paperwork in front of her, arranging everything in folders and in alphabetical order, handing out some papers over the tables of the other Aurors who didn't even seem to notice her nervousness, all too busy.

When the big clock struck midday and the elevator opened on their floor, Ginny felt her blood run cold, hearing footsteps approaching and people looking more excited about whoever had entered. Her hand was shaking like a beginner's, trying to detach the sheet.

‘Ginny?’ Her voice called out to him, softly, as if he didn’t want people to look at her. She thanks. 'You work here?'

'Oh, hello Harry.' Ginny finally looked at him, dropping the scrolls and keeping her hands in her lap, watching the boy in front of her. In the daylight he looked even more handsome, messy and dark hair that she remembered to be soft and smelling, a stubble that had pinched her skin in a good way, mesmerizing green eyes, a pink mouth that had done a lot of wonders with her ... The man was a God, looking beautiful even in jeans torn at the knees, a black T-shirt and boots. The cover was open, but Ginny did not fail to notice that the fabric appeared to be of the best quality, held by a single buttercup near his neck. 'Yes.'

'Why didn't you tell me?' He continued to speak softly, but everyone was already starting to turn their necks to try to understand what the hell the chief's son was doing standing at poor Ginny's table.

Now that there was enough light and there was no alcohol running through her body, she thought it was obvious that Harry was James' son. She had been so silly.

‘I didn’t think it was important.’

'Oh, I see you guys met.' Mr Potter interrupted them, which Ginny would thank him later, his hand on his son's shoulder, looking at Ginny and then at Harry, who had a confused look on his face. 'Harry, let's have lunch and let Miss. Weasley can too, we don't want the woman to miss her time, do we?' The squeezing on his son's shoulder seemed to make the man wake up, and like his father, Harry smiled.

'Right. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Weasley. Have a nice day.'

[...]

When Ginny left work, it was as if a giant was coming off her shoulders, and she felt more tired than usual because of the tension. After lunch, the other Aurors did not seem to have swallowed the story that Harry and Ginny had first met that morning, and of course she overheard some guys saying that it was how she got the job of pupil.

Great, she thought, it was all I wanted.

Ignore the years of studying, the sleepless nights, the exhausting post-workout where she cried in the bath, the times she thought about giving up - and almost did - but was stopped by her brothers or her parents, and all those tiring missions that James seemed to do just to exhaust the Aurors and see who could still stand.

Forget all that, she got the job after swallowing the boss's son's dick.

Ginny quickened her pace, angry as never before, feeling that she needed to get home, take a shower, and do something to de-stress.

‘Hey!’ A voice called from behind her, and because of all the tension surrounding her and the training, Ginny squeezed her wand around her waist. 'Can we talk?' A slightly sweaty, pink-cheeked Harry stopped in front of her. He didn't even seem to be feeling the icy weather of March, wearing only sweatpants and a jacket, carrying a bag with him.

'What do you want to talk about?' She pressed the cloak against herself, feeling a little shiver, but maybe it was not about the cold but about the fact that the man looked even hot that way.

'Wow, you don't have to be defensive, I'm not here to fight.' He held up his hands. 'Do you want to go somewhere else? Maybe have a coffee? ’

Ginny knew inside that she shouldn't accept, not after knowing how he felt inside her, on top of her, kissing her body, sucking and licking certain parts, how he moaned her name and held her against him when he came, as if he wanted to be sure that she would feel what she did to him.

It was not a safe plan, it was a suicide mission.

'Of course, it will be better,' she said, ignoring all the warnings that it would not end well. Harry smiled, picking up the backpack he had placed on the floor and walking beside her, in silence.

His scent seemed to fill all around her, and Ginny had to work hard not to show that it was affecting her.

They didn't take long to arrive at the coffee shop, it was close by and Ginny's favorite to eat after a stressful day. All the meals were delicious, a warmth in the heart after a bad time. The decor was cheerful, in contrast to the gray London, the walls were colorful, the tables a cream color with flower pots in the middle, and it was as if winter or bad weather never arrived inside that environment. It was always summer there. The owner, Mrs. Rodrigues, was a friendly and adorable Brazilian, always smiling and talking to whoever came in.

'Hello, Miss Weasley, how are we on that gray afternoon?' The woman asked, with an accent that said she was not from there.

'Now, better than before.' Ginny smiled. ‘Just smelling your carrot cake, I’m already happy.’

'No, dear, don't say that or I will get used to it.' Mrs. Rodrigues blushed, and then smiled at Harry beside Ginny, fixing the white cap on her voluminous hair. ‘What will the two want today?’

'The carrot cake and the Pão de Queijo basket, please.' Ginny asked.

'A coffee, and ... the carrot cake too,' Harry said.

Mrs. Rodrigues wrote down and smiled at both of them, indicating an empty table further down, near the window and the various flowers that Ginny still did not know how she did to keep them alive, and the two went there, in silence, with only the Brazilian music playing in a pleasant volume filling the lack of conversation between them, the voice of some couples and teenagers was mixed by the environment.

'I didn't know you were my boss's son, I have to say that.' Ginny broke the silence first, looking at Harry in front of her, anxious hands playing with the flower pot on the table.

'If you knew...?' Harry seemed nervous for the answer, arms crossed on the table, green eyes fixed on her, waiting for Ginny to say what he should already know.

‘We wouldn’t have gone out together.’ She smiled sadly. 'You understand why, right? I mean, your dad is my boss, he wouldn’t see it in a good way, and my coworkers would think, in fact they already think, that I used this to get to be where I am.’

‘If you want to know, my dad has been trying to get me out with you since he met you.’ Harry said as if talking about the weather, shrugging and smiling, never diverting her attention. ‘I think he was just surprised that he didn’t know you were there, maybe he expected me to say that I went out with you or that someone would tell him, to see you there in the morning, it was something he didn’t expect.’

‘Did you know who I was at the bar?’

'No! No, I didn't know who you were. He was talking about his pupil, and all your qualities as an auror, and seriously, I don't think I've ever seen him speak so well of one of his young aurors.' Ginny wouldn't express, of course, but she felt a little of pride inside her, thinking of the times that Mr Potter put her into more rigid training than the others, just because "she learned faster than the others." He really believed in her potential! Take that, Elliot. ‘Mum thinks I'm dating you, after she heard you were there… She was a little upset that you ran away.’

'I didn't run away,' Ginny defended herself, laughing softly when she saw Harry laugh, imagining that she should be blushing like never before.'I needed to come to work, and I met my boss at the house of the guy I had sex with, there was no way I could stay for coffee.'

'You could.' Harry shrugged. 'Sorry I didn't warn you about my parents, it never happened before, and I was a little too busy.' He blinked, in the way that made Ginny feel like jelly, the slightly arched black eyebrow and the little smile that did it all seem a little too erotic for that afternoon. He didn't even seem to be trying to do that.

'What did not happen? You taking one of your father's Aurors to your home?' She joked, just to dissipate that heat that took over her body, and to remind her of who she was talking to. Son of your boss, son of your boss, son of your boss, Ginny repeated in her mind.

'That too, but I say about taking girls, in general, at home.' Harry licked his lips when the waiter brought their orders, smiling at both of them and apologizing for interrupting the conversation, placing the basket of Pão de Queijo in the middle of the table for the two, and the piece of cake in front of each other, in addition to Harry's coffee.

Ginny's stomach rumbled when she saw the delicious warm and fragrant Pão de Queijo, together with the delicious smell of carrot cake and brigadeiro, she even felt a little less nervous now that she had something else to pay attention to, other than the mesmerizing eyes from Harry.

None of them spoke much after they started eating, other than the moans of satisfaction they shared as soon as they ate the first pão de queijo, focused only on eating that delicious delicacy and letting the music take over their thoughts, as if it were normal for Harry and her shared a table in the afternoon, eating together and being used to the moment.

It was so simple to be with him, so familiar, that it scared Ginny a little bit, whenever she stopped to analyze.

'I feel like you're not going to accept that I ask you out, now that I know about your concern for your co-workers?' Harry asked, pulling the plate of cake closer and picking up a piece, looking focused on just looking at the slice, instead of for Ginny, and she missed his eyes on her.

'It's complicated,' she admitted, looking at her own slice. 'There are not many women in the Auror Department and they already think that I managed to be where I am, just because I did something for your father, and not because I deserved it and worked hard. You understand? It’s a little more difficult for us women to inhabit predominantly male places.’

'I understand.' Harry looked at her, and he didn't seem upset that she denied his request, he seemed upset about the reason that made her do this. 'But you know that you cannot live, listening and taking what they say about you as truth, you know? I'm not saying that for you to go out with me, it’s not that, it's just because ... Everything my father says about you, made me understand that he chose you because you were good, very good, in what you did. You know you are, and how you made it this far, is not what others will say that will change that. They don’t know anything.’

[...]

The days passed faster than Ginny expected, after the meeting with Harry, the hours were confused between studying for the test that would take place at the end of the month and working, Mr Potter did not comment on his son, and Harry did not appear for more. there too. Now that she was paying attention, Ginny noticed that there was a picture of the boy in the chief's office, Harry, a child, teenager, and adult, wearing the Arrows' uniform.

He also started to appear in the newspaper, now that he had officially joined the team, and it wasn't just a reserve, so Ginny ended up seeing him during breakfast, stamping the sports column.

She also saw him at night, before going to sleep, when they were calling to talk in the mirror, the two tired, telling about what the day had been like. She said she couldn't accept going out with him, not being a friend.

Although she thought things that friends did not think about each other, and sometimes Harry flirted with her, without much pretension, seeming to just do it naturally.

‘You’ve got to stop doing that’ He said, biting his lower lip as if he wanted to hold himself back from laughing, lying shirtless while talking to her, who was putting the books in the drawer, getting ready to go to bed.

'Doing what?' Ginny asked, taking the mirror from the dresser and going to the bed, leaving the candle light still on so he could see it.

‘Saying things that make me wanna kiss you’

'Harry ...' Ginny warned him, blushing like a tomato, only to hear him laugh and blink those beautiful green eyes towards her.

"I'm not doing anything, besides, your exams are next week, which means I'm almost close to being able to take you on a real date." They had agreed this, in fact, it was Ginny who brought it up. a week after the James incident, just because she started thinking hard about how good that night had been, and how much better it would be if there was no alcohol in her blood and she didn't have to face the boss the next morning, before she even brushed the teeth.

After she took the test, they could leave, but still, it was very public until the result came out. Ginny didn't want anyone to doubt her ability, nor did the fact that dating Harry influence James' thinking.

'But then, there is still a week to go.' She reminded him.

'How are you feeling?'

'Anxious,' she admitted, thinking again about how easy it was to open up to Harry. 'How was the training today?' He moved, the noise of the sheets making her think things inappropriate for that moment.

'Tiring, I have pain in my thighs.' Harry made a lovely face, his nose slightly wrinkled.

'Poor thing about you.' Ginny tuned her voice as if she were talking to a baby, which made the man laugh, something that always made Ginny have her ego boosted a thousand times.

Harry looked cute laughing.

'You could come here and help me, I know that Aurors know how to do very good healing spells.' He blinked, and this time it was Ginny who laughed.

'Shut up. Good night, Harry. 'Ginny felt and saw that her cheeks got even hotter, but Harry didn't seem affected, he seemed to approve of that.

'Good night, Weasley ... One week, I'm counting.' He smiled, and something inside her trembled in excitement and excitement so that the week would pass soon.

'I know you do, Potter. Bye. ’