#that was never corrected for it to stay that way 1K+ years later and him to do that & get banished in the first place for it after the fact

[sleepymarimo]

I have this head cannon that I’ve been thinking of for awhile and just had to share with you.

Imagine y/n growing up with zoro in the village and she’s a couple years younger than him and called him zoozoo once, but he kinda liked it so he let her keep calling him that.

Fast forward to them running into each other at a random market while he’s out shopping with sanji and sanji hears her call him zoozoo. Once they leave, sanji makes fun of him by calling him zoozoo and Zoro just pulls one of his swords and looks him dead in there while saying, “call me that again and I’ll cut your tongue off. Only one person can ever call me that and it’s not you.”

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.

summary: read above! pairing: zoro x fem!reader cw: none! mostly fluff, perhaps a bit bittersweet an: hi anon!! i just had to write this bc it was too cute :) also pris try not to write something under 1k words challenge go!! ugh i need to tone it down fr... anyway, enjoy some fluff and thank the anon for their sweet hc.. also im going for a new theme soooo... wc: 2k

you were like a little fly, always buzzing around him.

technically, it was kuina that you clung to, but it might as well have been him, too.

every duel and training session, you were there. you'd clap your hands and cheer on kuina, the girl you'd come to see as an older sister of sorts. "get him kookoo!" came your chant, a toothy grin on your face as you watched the green-haired boy lose his temper once again. "y'can't beat kookoo, zoro!"

even as he barks at you to shut up, you can't help but grin. you know that you'll be scrambling to get him bandages later and you know that he'll refuse your help, all while kuina laughed in the background. this was the dynamic, the camaraderie you had all shared. kuina, zoro and you.

then it all came to an abrupt halt.

kuina's death hit everyone hard. you were inconsolable, missing her so dearly that it made your heart hurt. not knowing what else to do, you turn to the green haired boy who was the closest thing you had to her.

the two of you stand at her grave, one of your tiny hands balled into the fabric of his shirt as if he'd disappear at any moment. your free hand rubs at your tender cheeks, red and swollen from the tears you'd been shedding. "i-i miss-s her, zoozoo."

he fights back the tears in his own eyes as he keeps his gaze locked on the stone slab in front of him. this whole body is still as he utilizes as much of his willpower as possible. he's enraged. he's in mourning. he doesn't quite know how to cope in any way that isn't fighting.

your new nickname for him doesn't go unnoticed- a play on the same one you used to call kuina. he takes it with pride, not bothering to correct you.

he grabs your hand and roughly tugs you along to the training area. there was no way in hell that he'd give up, so he was going to drag you with him.

years later.

same scene, different atmosphere.

the two of you are in front of her grave, paying her respect. zoro is leaving yo- the island. he's leaving the island to fulfill his promise, to make a name for himself and become the greatest swordsman. of course you're wishing him the best, hell, you know that he's going to do it, but still, it stings a tad.

first your beloved kookoo, and now...

"zoozoo..." your arms cross and you sigh, trying to remain cheery and playful but unable to hide the concern in your tone. "y'feeling ready?"

he isn't fazed by the nickname, not when you've been calling him that for years. raising a brow and giving you an almost incredulous expression, he answers your question. "doesn't matter if i'm ready or not, i ain't gonna be the greatest swordsman if i stay here."

the two of you start the walk to the docks, a small ship ready for him. you're side by side, shoulders brushing against one another every now and then. he doesn't put any distance between the two of you. why would he? at that point in time, though he'd never admit it, you were probably the person he'd trusted most.

the silence isn't uncomfortable by any means, but there is a tension of sorts that you try your best to ignore.

when you get to the boat, you take a breath to keep cool and calm. but you're so, so bad at it. maybe a few years ago you could've gotten away with it, but zoro had grown so damn perceptive that it wasn't even funny.

"b-bye zoozoo." you nod with a shaky smile, struggling and failing to keep a straight tone as tears prick your eyes. your hands are behind your back and zoro has no doubt that they're clasped together in a bid to prevent yourself from grabbing him.

he rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue in exasperation. "y'such a pain in the ass." one of his arms slings around your shoulders and begrudgingly brings you into his chest. of course he made sure no one else was around as he did so, opting to look off toward the sea instead of down at your teary face. "i'll be fine. grow up, will ya?"

your hands unclasp and you cling to his shirt, small laughs mixing with your sniffles. "shut-t up, zoozoo."

he doesn't say anything, but if you'd quit being a crybaby for two seconds you'd notice how his grip tightened on his wado ichimonji, his knuckles whitening. the swordsman is determined to do this, but hell, even he'd be lying if he said that this didn't... well, suck.

soon after, the two of you say your final goodbyes.

he catches sight of your smile as the waves took him away, and he has to turn around. his focus is on the horizon, ending the chapter of his life that had you in it.

you're damn persistent though, like a little fly. he can't help but smirk at your words, yelled and carried by the wind.

"you're gonna be the best damn swordsman ever, zoozoo!"

such memories only come to the swordsman when he's had enough booze. when he looks at the moon and the ship is quiet except for the sound of creaking wood and crashing waves.

the thousand sunny had been docked on this island for around a day. it was a nice place, lively and sporting a plethora of shops with goods ranging from tropical fruits to exotic spices.

zoro curses when he swears he passes by the same stall for the hundredth time. "damn cook, always gettin' lost..." he grumbles, not acknowledging his notorious tendency to lose his way.

before he could take another step, he freezes at the sound of a voice that he'd only heard when he was dreaming or completely shit-faced.

"zoozoo?"

the way he turns around is almost mechanical. at this stage of his life, things like this didn't really pull a reaction from him. hell, he hadn't felt this way since he'd ran into that marine in loguetown. it was like seeing a ghost, but you're not one by any means.

he says your name, the sound almost foreign on his lips.

then he straightens up, his rational self catching up to him. you. here. in the new world?

one of his large hands makes a grab at your wrist, pulling you to an alleyway where the two of you could have some more privacy.

he has too many questions, too many thoughts and he'd be damned if he said it, but too many feelings, too. his tone is unintentionally gruff when he speaks, presenting as irritated to mask the protective urges simmering beneath the surface. "what the hell are you doin' here, huh?" you're still like a damn fly...

you take a moment to assess him, his new scars and his physique and everything. it's not like you hadn't seen him... but you're not going to admit to him that a few of his wanted posters are very much in your possession.

he still seems to be as brash as ever. headstrong and bull-headed and caring, in his own blunt way. it's not like you expected him to change much, but still, it's a relief to hear him speak to you as if you hadn't seen him in years. "well i wasn't gonna stay there either!" you defend, stubbornly crossing your arms.

that sparks a conversation about what you've been up to. he's always been alright with just letting you chatter away, but he makes sure to pay extra attention to what you tell him. your goals, your plans and where you'll be going. damn you, making this harder for him by not staying at shimotsuki village.

he's proud though, he really is.

as you continue to speak, he finds his focus directed on your expression and body language. now that the shock has worn off, he gets a closer look at you. your fingers twitch lightly, your arms snuggly crossed over your chest as if you were holding yourself together.

he remembers you being rather comfortable and relaxed around him, only growing restless when you were struggling to hold down the torrents of emotion that you were prone to feeling.

the last time he saw you like this was when he left, when you were too prideful to reach out and...

something about your little mannerisms is comforting in itself, like you haven't changed. a small wave of nostalgia crashes into the stone walls he's constructed around his heart these past few years.

you're still that teary eyed kid clinging to him like a remora, and he's damn sure that that won't ever change. you can hide it all you want, but unfortunately, he knows you.

you're good, but he's better.

"oi, c'mere, you damn crybaby." he huffs, expertly masking his satisfaction as he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest. a smirk tugs at his lips as he looks down on you, hell, he even wraps his other arm around you too. "thought i told ya to grow up, dumbass."

your arms wrap around him and you hide your sniffle with a scoff. "yeah, and i think i told you to shut up, zoozoo." you instinctively hold him a bit tighter. "bet you didn't miss all this crybaby stuff."

oh, if you knew how wrong you were.

the moment is cut short when an exasperated yell fills the air. "oi, marimo, what the hell are you doing with a gorgeous woman!"

zoro's grip tightens on you for a split second before he releases you with a growl, his expression morphing into one of annoyance. he turns around to face the blond, hand reaching for his blade. "mind your damn business, cook! i'll cut you up like a-"

they bicker for a few minutes while you watch on in confusion, before the cook tells him that there are marines on the island. the blond, not wanting the swordsman to get lost again, firmly grips his arm and tugs him along.

zoro's gaze flickers back to yours, hardened and glinting with determination. yet, beneath that, you can see the underlying emotion.

it makes you smile, and even as he's being tugged away, you give him a big grin letting him know that you'll be okay. a smile that says you believe in him and that you know he'll be the greatest swordsman this world has ever seen. most importantly, it tells him that you'll be there waiting for him when it's all done.

your lips part and you yell out. "bye, zoozoo!"

it's a while later when zoro and sanji finally quit their running, the thousand sunny go just up ahead in the distance.

"tch, can't believe a beautiful woman like her would want anything to do with a brute like you." sanji huffs, clearly envious and annoyed as he pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

zoro's scowl deepens, not quite up for discussing any sort of feelings with the cook. "shut the hell up, curly brows." he says, his eye subtly sneaking a final glance at the town. "it's not like that."

sanji breathes out a large puff of smoke, his form relaxing somewhat. "yeah, yeah... sure. whatever you say, zoozoo."

the air changes, going almost still as sanji finds himself looking down at a blade being held to his neck. zoro holds his sword up to the cook, glaring at him with a murderous intent.

they've had their fair share of fights, never actually meaning to harm one another, but zoro makes it clear that this subject is not up for debate. “call me that again and i’ll cut your tongue off." he growls, inching the blade a little closer. "only one person can ever call me that, and it’s not you.”

[ybklix]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦

⋆˚✿˖° pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

୧ ‧₊˚ ♡ somethin’ about him is made for somebody like me ₊˚⊹���

♡ genre - warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, car and semi public sex, kinda slow burn? idk bear w me

word count: 3.1k

m.list

a/n: idk, a little something ab changbin as i prepare for 1k event fics!<3 and all my wips omg; just bc he’s so ariana slay

Changbin said it simply, whether or not you would go with him to the gym, via text message, to which you declined, you didn’t feel like working out at all, something about you that day seemed to depress you, but every muscle in your body tensed and your whole being woke up as you read:

uh, too bad

i wanted you to meet gyuri, i'm going to train her now

I thought you might get along😁

You jolted up, perplexed as you read the message from your best friend. Next thing you knew you were ready to go to Changbin’s personalized gym, this time dressed a little less sporty, you hoped to excuse yourself smoothly with something you would come up with later since you weren’t thinking clearly.

For years you had this best friend dynamic with Changbin, an unique dynamic where you never touched each other that way, but you treated each other with such affection that people thought you were a couple and, but knowing that he would be with another woman... made you grow jealous, you couldn’t deny it, he was yours, you were in love with him but the idea of a relationship suffocated you, you just knew you wanted him, his company in everything.

Changbin was a professional and personal trainer, he had clients of very high status, usually... other men so you were more than relieved, but a girl was something new to you. So with a slight shiver in your body, you unexpectedly knocked on your friend’s establishment door. He opened it for you within seconds, confused, wearing his tight workout clothes, making you slightly nervous.

“Oh, hey, love” he greeted you with a smile, “You drove here by yourself? You actually decided to come... but... you’re not dressed to...”

“Oh, no, let’s go eat later” you quickly interrupted him.

“Okay! But... you know I’m kind of busy, will you wait here?”

You blinked trying to think quickly, a valid excuse, something, something...

“Mr. Seo!” you heard a high-pitched but sweet voice, interrupting you and diverting his attention.

Changbin turned with a smile and then saw you. The inner fire of yours burst out in you more.

“Oh, it’s Gyuri, come in Y/n.”

You both walked further in, until you came to see a pretty young woman with two glasses with orange juice in her hands... she was, something else, she had such a bright aura, long hair and dyed a light brown. She really was Changbin’s type, if you knew him well enough.

“Changbin, please, I’m not that old” he joked correcting her, taking one of the glasses, “Oh, this is Y/n, Y/n, Gyuri.”

“Nice to meet you” Gyuri replied kindly with a smile to which you reciprocated the gesture, “Oh, I made orange juice, do you want...?”

“I’m fine really...”

And a brief awkward silence formed. Changbin sensed it instantly and took a quick sip of his juice.

“Well, let’s continue” he exclaimed.

You felt... like you shouldn’t be there, you weren’t even wearing work out clothes, you were sad in your apartment but you went all the way here by mere impulse as you felt Changbin was yours.

You watched them walk away, but Changbin quickly turned to see you.

“Ah, Y/n...”

“It’s okay, I can go” you replied awkwardly, your cheeks warm not exactly sure if from a bit of rage or general embarrassment.

“Oh, no, you can stay, I won’t really train, I’ll just make sure Gyuri does a good job and that the exercises I assign suit her.”

You smiled at him, you couldn’t even answer him, you felt so small, pathetic and jealous. And now you had to witness him, pulling her body closer, encouraging her, correcting her posture, lifting her ass to him. You couldn’t take it anymore. Usually you’re that girl, and you come out of your sessions very turned on by his yelling and flattery.

You texted Minho, your other friend, telling him to call you urgently, to which he initially complained and tried to ignore you but after a few minutes, very confused he did. You walked away embarrassed, pretending to have an important call and walked out, exclaiming that it was a call from Minho. Changbin watched you leave, a little confused... as you were acting weird, quieter than usual and the only time he saw your eyes light up was when you got the call from another man, causing him discontent.

You explained the situation to Minho, to which in a mocking tone, after laughing at you, he encouraged you to finally try something with Changbin, that if neither of you didn’t cross the line, something would never happen... so you decided to take his wise words. This wasn’t planned, you’re usually unproblematic and only the universe knows how hard you tried to resist, but you couldn’t help it, the boy was yours. He always was. Only you knew him like no one else and you couldn’t wait to try.

After an exhaustive talk on the phone for more than half an hour with Minho, whom you seemed to be forcibly holding back, you entered, finding Changbin and Gyuri finishing their session. You celebrated internally; you checked even the smallest detail of both of them was in order, analyzing them with the look that nothing had happened in your absence, and everything looked the same. Only the girl was a little flustered who had a slightly tired expression and was sweating, getting up from the exercise machine.

She walked in search of her tumbler cup with water, drinking slowly.

“I’m done, what do you want to eat?” Changbin walked over to tell you.

You still smelled his perfume, with him not shedding a drop of sweat.

You smiled at him, “I don’t know, let’s just go out.”

You were nervous and couldn’t explain it. What you didn’t know was that Changbin was also giving your long phone call with Minho a second thought. So he didn’t even pay attention to Gyuri, just politely bid her farewell, telling her politely that he would see her next session.

Once inside his car, he started driving, suddenly you found him a thousand times more attractive, the way his hair looked so fluffy, he was driving attractively with one hand and his seat belt squeezing between the middle of his pecs... you thought about what to say, honestly confessing with cheesy words was not your thing, what could you do...

“So... what so much did Minho say?” he finally spoke, trying to hide his curiosity.

“Minho? Ah, nothing.”

“Mmm... well, it seems like you talked quite a lot...”

You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you weren’t paying much attention to what Changbin was saying, but his subtle tone changed something in you... it was obvious his slight jealous tone so you quickly seized the opportunity.

“Uh... well yeah, you know how Minho and I are…”

“Minho and you? Since when? He can barely stand you.”

“Well… he tolerates me enough to listen to my voice over the phone for an hour.”

Changbin snorted in annoyance, bringing his other hand to the steering wheel, giving an incredulous half-smile.

“Anyway, let’s go to that food place we went to the other time.”

“Sounds good to me, maybe I can bring Minho something to eat too” you continued to tease him, enjoying seeing his disgusted reaction.

“Why would you bring him food? If you’re hanging out with me, he can cook something by himself. Did you tell him you’d bring him food? Does it mean you’re going to see him later?” exploded Changbin in emotions still looking straight ahead, unable to turn to see you.

You laughed and rolled your eyes in satisfaction.

“God, Changbin, are you listening to yourself?”

“Yeah so what?”

“Are you jealous?” you smiled mischievously.

“As much as you were of Gyuri” he now smiled.

The gesture was immediately wiped off your face. You couldn’t believe he said that. Changbin started laughing in his typical mocking laugh, coming from the pit of his stomach, his low and sonorous 'hehehe', you found it really annoying.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“Well, that’s the way you wanted to play” he added, parking his car in front of a fence on the street of the outside restaurant which was a street food place, a bit far from it.

You crossed your arms and acted indignant, hoping to get his attention, you were both attention whores. Changbin smiled at your expression, looking straight ahead with your arms and leg crossed. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and began to stirr your arm playfully.

“Come on, let’s go eat, don’t say you got mad. If you behave yourself I’ll pay for Lino’s food too and we’ll bother him later, we can see his annoying reaction when he sees us coming over” he mentioned in an amused tone, begging for your attention.

You slowly smiled and it wasn’t because of his comment, just for the simple fact that you really liked Changbin, and you loved the way he begged a little. You turned to look at him, slowly, scaring Changbin in a good way, as your expression was serious, you had a sweet smile drawn on your face, your eyes sparkled in the slight darkness and... you managed to make him nervous in seconds, you looked so attractive in his eyes, with a look that you had only seen him before for a few seconds when you got drunk, a seductive look almost inviting him to do with you whatever he wants.

“Hey, let’s go to...”

“Changbin” you said slowly; he was lost on you, he didn’t finish his sentence nor did he know what he was talking about, “Bin...”

You didn’t know exactly what to say either. You were just waiting for him to react and come to you and take what is his, with a kiss.

Changbin cleared his throat, averting his gaze from you, breaking the moment of tension and the magic moment where you were hypnotizing him. You would have thought it was cute... but instead you grimaced in disgust... was it that you had misread the signs and Changbin really didn’t like you too? You got so angry that you spat impulsively and without thinking:

“Yeah, well, at least Minho would have known to take this chance and would be kissing me by now.”

Changbin’s face perked up as did his ears at being so surprised, the sentence with the words ‘Minho, kiss, me’ didn’t seem to well at all to him.

“Excuse me?”

You moved dangerously close to him, almost brushing his lips, making him open his eyes in surprise:

“That he can read the room and understand what I want” you provoked him again.

“Oh yeah?” he expressed, smugly, brushing his nose with yours, “Then why don’t you go and bother him? But no, you have to be here... Binnie this, Binnie that... I’ve never seen you complain this much...”

“And what could it be that I always called you before anyone else?” his lips inches away, so agonizing that your body throbbed with excitement.

“What is it...? You have to tell me.”

“What do you want me to tell you, Seo Changbin?”

The air suddenly became heavy, your breaths could be heard in every corner of his car.

“Say what you want, you’re free to express yourself, love.”

You smiled, amused about to say the most corny thing in the world, unashamed, about to kiss him, “I’d say you’re mine.”

And you kissed him, being pushed by more than your silly steady wobble. His lips were soft and fluffy, Changbin quickly held the back of your neck gently to intensify his kiss, you took hold of his strong arm; he did it so well, he was slow but wild, taking you into splendid delight. After a little over a minute, his free hand sought to caress your thigh, he brought his hand under your skirt and explored the inside of your mouth dirtyly with his tongue, arousing you a little.

Finally you parted, lips swollen and incredibly aroused from each other, staring into each other’s eyes so lasciviously.

“Oh, Y/n...” he whispered, analyzing every part of your face, “Come here, I’m all yours.”

Changbin roughly slid his seat back, patting his thighs, you looked down at his hand and it was inevitable to notice that he was hard. You smiled broadly and found a way to slide from your seat to his, sitting on his lap facing him, with your thighs on either side of his, feeling a little of his bulge brush against your mons pubis, so close to your clit. You left your hands on his pecs and kissed him again, in a more desperate act, not caring that you were on a public street, you needed him, just now more than any other day, you couldn’t believe it, finally you and him, intertwining, under the night.

Changbin began to touch your body, running his manly hands up your thighs and down your ass, until he reached your panties, desperate, Changbin let one hand squeeze your thigh and the other caressed your sensitive clit, managing to cause you to shiver. You were so wet that it kind of embarrassed you to drop your whole body into his lap, but he loved how slightly needy you looked. Changbin gently bit your lower lip as he pulled away from you and worked more on caressing your throbbing clit; you bit your lip in pleasure as you saw his smug expression on his face, he was more than happy to see a new reaction in you, with your slightly open mouth, panting and your submissive look, suddenly discovering your body became so addictive and filled him with adrenaline.

You gasped harder, you were so ready to see his cock for the first time and decisively to start moving on it, you wanted it right now and you were about to ask for it; but seeing two young people walking down the street through the back window of his car, made you regain your consciousness a little.

“Cha-ngbin” you tried to speak, “we’re in...”

“In a fucking public place, I know dear, so you better be discreet; I’m not gonna take off any of your clothes, you can fuck me like this” he whispered breathy and sizzling near your lips, gently scrunching his nose and unable to take his eyes off your face.

You watched him and for some reason, you just nodded submissively, Changbin widened his smile at your response, sweetly showing his front teeth.

“Stand up a little, so you can feel my fingers...”

You did so instantly, and within seconds you felt the tickle of his fingers across your labia, then moving away the fabric of your panties from your soaked entrance and he slipped two of his deft fingers into your core.

Changbin raised his eyebrows in surprise and pouted finding you tender, your body trembled and you did your best to hold back the soft whimper leaving your lips at the sensation of your insides being touched.

“You’re so wet, love. I think you’re so ready to take my cock already, don’t you?”

He pushed his fingers in deeper, teasing you more, making you lean your limp body into him, enjoying the feel of his fingers digging inside you.

“Y-yes, Changbin, please.”

“I didn’t hear you right, what was the magic word again?”

“Pl-please.”

Changbin thrusted you with his fingers more intensely and rapidly bringing your climax closer and, your wetness spilling out of you, dripping down his hand and onto his thighs and, with his typical smug grin, he pulled out of you without warning, making you sigh in exasperation, but you caught your breath, as you watched him finally pull down his shorts and underwear; Changbin looked to his sides a little guiltily, his heart was racing; his windows were shielded but the rush of having a little bit of public sex filled him with adrenaline again, pumping his cock to perfection.

Finally there it was, something you hadn’t planned at all from the beginning but still circumstances led you to it; his cock, nice and erect and thick, his little trimmed pubic hair in his area perfectly detonating to his rigid and throbbing member with its pink tip coated in shiny precum. The curiosity in you won, stroking it admiringly, from its tip to its base and its soft sensitive balls, you wanted to do so many things with it, take your time, but both of you were already in a very compromising situation.

“Go ahead, baby, ride me” he gasped, somewhat despairing at your sudden masturbation to his cock.

You raised your gaze and lifted your body a little again, bringing it closer to his erection, Changbin grabbed your hips while you leaned on his chest, then pushed the fabric of your panties aside with one hand and with the other you perfectly centered his hard cock at your entrance, finally letting you slowly drop into it, feeling every inch of him stretching your hole and walls; it felt so good in you, that you both gasped at the same time, but it felt even better with his full length inside, as if he was tailor-made for you.

You began to move, whimpering a little, the sensation was indescribable, Changbin finally for you.

“Move for me, move for me, fuck you’re doing great.”

You rode his cock, expecting nothing less from Changbin, but his babbles filling you with compliments made your nipples hard, you wanted to be touched by him, every part of you, completely vulnerable, but for the moment you had to settle for intense car sex, living off the pure sensation and the grotesque sound of your soaking wet core being stirred by his masculinity. Your tiny skirt covered the scene; just two best friends, with the girl jumping on her friend’s lap, panting. You felt complete, you didn’t want to leave him ever, his balls were rubbing against your pussy as he was so fucking deep in you and with your throbbing labia brushing against his body, you were completely rapt, Changbin was too strong to carry you easily and move your body at his mercy, his cock destroying beautifully inside you, you were whimpering in pure pleasure, never stopping babbling his name. You thought you were moving but he was doing his part too, intensifying each thrust into you.

Changbin tightened his grip on you, almost marking your skin, squeezing the fabric of your skirt tightly against you, he grunted loudly and you felt his cock throb in, followed by his orgasm shooting deep into your core, you couldn’t hold it back that long either, you twitched gently a couple more times as you watched him try to recover and you swooned completely into his body, culminating in a shuddering orgasm that altered every sense in you.

You both stared at each other, shaken and with a smirk of satisfaction as if you had won a prize you were aiming for.

｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆｡°✩

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @houseapologist @bubblebisk

[lottiies]

TIARAS AND TEACUPS

→ just some fluffy drabbles and headcanons on leon being a girl dad

NOTE: listen i don’t even want kids in the future but for this man?? if he was real and mine then trust i would change my mind real quick ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

this is pretty short, less than 1k words hehe

i.

Leon would never hear the end of it from his coworkers if they saw him like this. There was a plastic tiara with fake pink jewels resting atop his hair. He was sitting criss cross applesauce, for he was a little too big to sit on the tiny chairs his daughter had placed her plushies on.

“Daddy, here’s your cup!” She chimed happily, placing a small toy teacup right in front of him.

“Thank you princess, it’s a pretty set.” His hand could easily cover the entire cup, but to be graceful, he held the handle with his thumb and forefinger. “What’s on the menu?”

“Brownies and…and cookies.” She had a small container of them, having gotten some from the batch you baked the other night. “I’m gonna go get mommy, make sure Mrs. Teddy doesn’t drop her tea!”

Leon looked so out of place, but he was happy, watching with a smile as his daughter ran out of the room to go get you. And surely enough, you joined the tea party a couple minutes later, a matching headpiece on your head and your daughter giggling as she tugged you by the hand and took you to where she wanted you to sit.

You couldn’t help but stifle back a laugh when you saw Leon, and he seemed to catch on, grinning at you. “Look who’s late.”

“Fashionably late.” You corrected him as you pointed at your crown, taking a seat on the floor.

“Yay all my guests are here! I’ll hand out the food but don’t eat without me, okay?”

Leon was always emotional when he was in the same room as the two people he treasured the most.

He could still remember when his daughter was just a newborn baby. He almost broke down that day as soon as he heard her first cries, he never thought he’d get the blessing of parenthood.

ii.

If there’s one thing about Leon as a dad, it’s that he really has no backbone when it comes to his adorable daughter. Lecturing wasn’t his strong suit, he just wanted to spoil her. Thankfully, she didn’t have a knack for finding trouble so he didn’t have to worry all that much.

Here Leon was opening the letter he had gotten from his daughter’s elementary school, skimming through it only to see all the positive commentary the homeroom teacher had left. He was a proud father, and he took her on a trip to the store so she could pick out something nice.

“Don’t worry your little head about the price, okay? You deserve something special, you’re doing so well at school.” He gave her head a gentle pat, staying close behind her energetic form as she scanned the aisle for toys.

Toys. Great. Leon was sure he would sob when his little girl started asking for electronics and cosmetics. God, how he wished these years didn’t fly by so quickly. He had to make the most of them.

“Anything? Even a scooter?”

“Uh huh, even a scooter. Want one?”

“Yeah they’re awesome! Can we go look at them? I wanted to ask for one last Christmas but it was really cold so I wouldn’t have even been able to play outside much to use it. But it’s almost summer now so it would be nice and…”

She continued rambling on and on while Leon smiled happily. He held her hand and walked her over to where the scooters and bikes were.

Though he was a little concerned. What if she fell one day and scraped her knee? Or what if she hit her ankle with the scooter? Worst pain ever. Either way, he’d have to buy her a helmet and some knee pads.

Being a dad was kinda stressful.

iii.

Leon would try to be there for major milestones as much as possible. Yeah, sometimes he couldn’t be there because of the spontaneity of his demanding job, but he made sure to make everything worthwhile when he was present.

Whenever her birthday came up, he’d let Sherry babysit her for a few hours so she wouldn’t be at the house while you and him were decorating the place.

“Our little girl is growing up so fast. She’s already wanting to sit in the passenger seat, can you believe that?”

“You big ol’ softie.” You laughed a bit at his sulking, but you felt the same way, going over to hug him and comfort him. He held your hips, nuzzling against the crook of you neck. He loved you so much, he’d know nothing about happiness without you.

“I think I finally understand what the adults in my life would say when I was younger.”

“And what’s that?”

“That when you’re a parent, your children don’t really get older in your eyes. Yeah she’s about to turn ten but…she’s still our baby girl. I feel like she’s still three.”

HEADCANONS

𐙚 Leon would definitely be the type to look up some tutorials on YouTube so he could learn how to do his daughter’s hair. Doesn’t matter if it’s straight, wavy, or really curly. He’ll get all the products and get as much practice as possible

𐙚 For bedtime stories he’d just make up child friendly versions of his missions. B.O.W’s would become dragons, he’d be some sort of knight, and the setting would be a magical forest instead of some isolated and creepy location. And of course there’d be a happily ever after. In a way, this also helps him cope with his experiences

𐙚 Even in a modern world where cards are used more than cash (much to his dismay), he carries around lots of quarters just in case his daughter wants to get something out of a sticker or candy vending machine

[blindtaleteller]

Eh, that depends on how much you're paying attention?

Odin definitely did plenty of murdering all the way into the temple to be shown bloody in it still in the first place; and in the MCU especially, there isn't any telling whether or not his account is honest either. I don't think it's very likely he was being entirely honest in the vault at all, and frankly.. the hows and especially the facts of not just who Loki is as a completely different species with entirely differing traits and abilities even, along with the when and how that got outed at all only help that lean that way.

I mean, just taking Frigga and the skills he learned to shape change and illusion himself early on into account; the fact is that if it were 100% true as presented, they both not only could have avoided at least a portion of the issues early on it caused by not explaining even after he became an adult: but also started to actually go for that peace Odin claimed to want a lot earlier through him if only through the excuse of basic things denied him in doing otherwise; like understanding his own body, or finding out if he had a biological mother still alive, etc. Rather than continuing the lie for 1000-1500 years and just hoping the enchantment used to whitewash him and more, lasted his entire 5k+ lifetime even after they died to leave him to deal with it and the fact that the Jotunheim fight scene alone showed he likely would not be prepared to live normally without that enchantment because of that lie's continuation.

In that regard? Laufey was definitely the less destructive parent of the lot; even if Odin was being honest that he hadn't known Loki would survive. At least even in that regard, Laufey didn't have intentions to psychologically or emotionally torture him for over a thousand years.

" At least Odin didn't try to kill him " that isn't particularly true either. Remember, in TDW it's established in the opening scene that Odin had decided well before he got back to Asgard after the Invasion to execute him without trial on top of all this, regardless of Thanos etc; which is a questionable all on it's own even without the rest of Odin's shady way of dealing with Loki in particular. Especially from a warrior mindset/race. At that point, an actual trial would have been in the best interests of everyone involved; if only to reveal the fact that the other party involved definitely was not done nor did they intend to be: unless, that trial not taking place served a purpose on it's own.

Frigga isn't particularly a great parent in that regard either, being she's the one who taught him; was 'closest' to him as his foster mother: and still went along with all this while denying her part in it as Odin's wife and that 'closest' parent. Not to mention her personal part in putting Loki on the throne in the first Thor film during what at the time was an openly declared war between Asgard and the very species/race they stole him from in the first place, rather than actually doing her part as Queen herself. (That's especially weird given how capable she herself is shown to be in both films and especially TDW, as she remains undefeated until Kurse steps into her fight with Malekith at the end, from behind her; but yeah.)

Also tags.

objectively laufey is the worse parent for doing the infanticide,,,,,,,like whatever Odin did, he is defended by the fact that he’s never tried to kill one of his infant sons

[xiaosonlybeloved]

Broken Hearts~ Diluc

featuring:- Diluc, fem!reader (Y/N), Childe warnings:- break-up, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, lmk if i missed anything a/n- pls i got max votes for a xiao ending but i already wrote it as another ending by then 💀 so I'll get an alternate ending out soon

word count- 1k

masterlist

“We should break up Y/N.” Those words. Those dreaded words that shattered your heart. Those words that meant all of your efforts were wasted, that they weren’t enough. You couldn’t stop the hitch in your voice as you tremblingly asked, “Why? Diluc, why? Was it not enough? Have I done something wrong?” You loved him, you truly did. And that’s why it broke you more, the sudden realisation that perhaps, he did not love you back in the same way.

“It isn’t working out.” He said simply. “It won’t work out. I have a lot of work, and I am unable to fit in a relationship into my life. It is proving to be quite a burden and a hindrance.” He said emotionlessly. He didn’t even feel anything about his words, no remorse, no sadness. It was as if he was talking to another business acquaintance. 

A burden.. Is that what you were? You were trying so hard, you helped him out daily, you sacrificed your free time for him, all because you loved him. ‘Was it worth it?’ A small voice in your mind whispered. ‘No.’ you thought. ‘It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t enough.’ Even after two solid years of this relationship, two years of you being the one who approached him, helped him through dark times, did almost everything in the relationship, it wasn’t enough.

Maybe thats what love did to you. Made you blind, so that you couldn’t see it was an unhealthy, one sided relationship, where Diluc always received, and you always gave. You were the one who confessed, he accepted. You were the one who planned the anniversary, he went along. You gave him gifts, he received them. You waited for him every night, he never did.

Maybe he was correct… This wouldn’t work out. “I see…” “I have to go work at the tavern. I’ll see you later.” He bluntly said. Somewhere deep within, Diluc was wondering why you hadnt protested. Somewhere, he did want you to disagree. But he ignored it obviously, as he walked out of the room, calm, elegant, poised as always. 

The house was silent, alone. Adelinde overheard accidentally, she knew. She tried her best to comfort you. You told her your plans, she supported you. She helped you quickly pack up your stuff during the time Diluc was away.

You left the moment you were done. You couldn’t bear to stay another second in your ex-boyfriend’s house. You didn’t want to see him again. He had torn your heart, you didn’t want him to shatter your mind as well. You were determined to get over this, to not let this tie you down. The Dawn Winery was close to the Stone Gate. And so, you went to Liyue. You went there to permanently settle, to get over your heartbreak. To forget about Diluc.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

(Diluc POV)

To someone who knew him incredibly well, like Kaeya, it was clear he wasn’t doing great, although some would say he deserved it. He devoted all his time and attention to work, and protecting Mondstadt. He always avoided thinking about [Y/N], it only brought him deep regret. Your distressed face flashed across his mind again..

He shook his head, clearing it. He had come to Liyue on a business trip, to discuss possible collaboration. He looked around the bustling Harbor, full of life. He cleared up the discussions with Mr Zhongli, a reputed gentlemen who suggested him possible companies for collaboration. He was just leaving when, “Hey!! Oh god, it’s been ageeesssss since I’ve seen you! Where have you even been!” 

His breath hitched. That voice.. So familiar.. Was it [Y/N]?

Your voice was directed in his direction. A selfish hope bloomed in him. But then, as he laid eyes upon you- looking radiant as always- you ran right past him with your arms outstretched. He stupidly turned his head, following you with his eyes-  to see you run into another man’s embrace, hugging him tightly. 

First he had shattered your heart; now you got your revenge by shattering his. He watched you, a sorrowful, dumbfounded look in his eyes, as you kissed the ginger, excitedly talking to him later. Snippets of your conversation reached him. “How.. mission go? …not hurt, right?..... going to meet your family?”

As they separated, Diluc saw the insignia on the ginger’s uniform. Fatui.

Y/N was dating a fatui. A fatui harbinger no less.

Were you aware of this? 

Seeing their loving exchange, made the hatred Diluc held for the Fatui boil up even more. “I wish people saw the goofy, non-Harbinger side of you.” You laughed. “Now now, that side’s reserved for you, my love.” Tartaglia uncertainly added, “You’re happy, right..? If you’re ever unhappy or unsatisfied with me, please let me know… I don’t want to lose you.” There was unmistakable sincerity in his words that made his thoughts stop. 

[Y/N] was silent for a few moments, then an angelic smile spread on your face. Oh, how he’d missed it. You beamed, “The fact that you’re thinking this is more than enough for me. I will always love you, because I know that you won’t leave me alone in the dust. Remember that, kay? Don’t think like that again.” You held up your pinkie, and Tartaglia linked it with his. “Together forever.” You both said.

He saw the radiant smiles on your faces, the unmistakable love you both held for each other. The sort of love he wasn’t able to give you.

As he saw Tartaglia treat you the way you deserved to be, the way he didn’t, he knew it. He knew. He knew that he had never been worthy of your love that had once been for him, that was now directed towards someone far more deserving. Seeing your happiness, he left, with a broken heart, the way [Y/N]’s had been, except he knew his would never heal. At least you’d found someone worthy of yourself…

[idrkwhatthisisimsorry]

Flying to Italy pt.1

Description: Y/N finds out her boyfriend is cheating on her with her best friend, and decides to take the trip she had planned with him to Italy anyways, but alone. But she meets Harry along the way, and so it goes... Does she decide to stay with Harry, or is it too soon and too fast? Or will she forgive her boyfriend? Only time will tell.

Warnings: angst, cheating

Word count: 1K

Masterlist

A/N: hey! I haven't written in a while, and I have never posted Harry on here, but I'm on a serious kick with him rn and I've been thinking of this idea for a few days and I really wanted to write it, so here y'all go! I hope you enjoy, it's gonna be really good. This takes place in about early 2019 btw! Not everything is gonna be totally correct timeline wise, so just pretend it is lol

"Hey, me and Lily are going to go out tonight, I don't think Colin can come, are you up for it?" Jackson, my boyfriend said. I've been dating Jackson for almost ten years. We've known each other since we were fifteen, and we've been dating since we were sixteen. He's my rock and my best friend. But not as much as Lily. She's been my number 1 since we were about five years old. She's been dating her boyfriend, Collin for about four years now, and little does she know, he's about to propose when we go on our Italy trip in a few days together. I'm a little jealous because Jackson hasn't gotten the balls to propose to me, but I couldn't be happier for my best friend.

"Uhhhh, I might come later, but don't count on me, I have a lot of catching up to do on work if I don't want to work while we're in Italy. You guys gonna be in the same place all night?" I tell him. Any normal girlfriend would be skeptical of their best friend and boyfriend hanging out without either of their partners, but I've known both of them for so long to know that they're just good friends. We were just a trio throughout high school and college until Lily finally met Collin, and if I had any skepticism, that was all thrown out the window after seeing the way her and Collin were together. I would go as far to say they're even cuter together than me and Jackson.

"Yeah, we're going to R bar. If you don't come, it's fine, babe, I'll just see you when I get home. Love you." He said, as he gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked out the door. "Love you." I said back, as he walked out.

...

I finished up enough of my work, and decided to go meet up with him at the bar. I quickly changed and did light makeup and got an uber.

I got to the bar and didn't see him or Lily with our group of friends. I walked over to one of them, "Hey have you guys seen Jackson? He said he and Lily were gonna be here with you guys tonight." I asked, still looking around the bar. "Uh, last I saw them was about ten minutes ago when he said they were gonna go get a drink from the bar, but I think I saw them walk off somewhere." Alex said, giving me a nervous face, which made me really nervous. I've never had reason to not trust him before, so I didn't expect what I was about to see and hear as I walked towards the bathrooms. I went into the women's restroom and didn't see Lily, and obviously I couldn't go into the mens, so I walked over to the single unisex bathroom door, and put my ear up to it. Someone was obviously having sex in there, very loud sex for that matter. I knocked, just in case my worst nightmare was coming true. "Busy!" A voice, very similar sounding to my best friend of twenty years, called out. I tested the door handle, and in their drunk idiocy they forgot to lock it, and I barged right in on my boyfriend fucking my best friend. Her small black dress, that she actually borrowed from me, hiked all the way up to her stomach, and his pants pulled down just low enough for him to be sticking his dick somewhere he shouldn't have.

The second he saw me, his eyes went wide and he immediately went wide and he pulled out of her and started to pull up his pants as quickly as possible. "Y/N-" "I don't want to hear it, Jack. The two people I thought would never hurt me. How long have you two been fucking behind my back?" I yelled angrily. "No no no no no, Y/N, this is the first time this has ever happened it was such a mistake, I'm so sorry, please, you're my best friend, I am so so sorry." Lily said, apologizing over and over again, as if those words could ever reverse her actions. I just stared at them in horror, tears threatening to spill over, my heart breaking as I knew I was losing the two people I cared about most in my life all in just five minutes. "Your sorry means nothing to me. I trusted both of you. I loved both of you, and you stabbed me in the back. I never want to see you again. Either of you. Might as well cancel your tickets to Italy once you're done fucking each other." I say, as I slam the door shut and leave the restaurant as fast as I possibly can and order an uber to the nearest hotel.

...

I sat in my expensive ass hotel room contemplating almost every single life decision I'd ever made. How long had this really been going on? Was it really the first time? How stupid have I been? And what was I going to do about Italy? Where was I going to live? My brain was going a hundred miles a minute, while I just sat there crying in my short little dress I wore to the bar. For him. Because I knew how much he loved that dress. Loved. He didn't have the right to love anything about me anymore.

I was so excited for everything in the future. We were supposed to spend a whole month in Italy together, the four of us. I was so so excited. I never got to travel ever, my family never had enough money, and then I went to college, and then I had to work my way up in my career to have money and actually get time off. Jackson and Lily have both been to Italy before, so it's not like this is some huge new experience that they're going to miss out on.

I laid on that bed for hours just crying, and thinking about what to do. I was going to go to Italy and forget all about people that never deserved me.

[teddypickerry]

Could you write something angsty for Alex?

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.

pairing! alex turner x fem reader

summary! in which alex’s lack of songs leads to him writing something he shouldn’t

word count! 1k

warnings! none

a/n! this fucking sucks. i don’t know why i hate this so much. one of my friends read it and loved it but i cannot get into it. BUT I LOVE ALEX SO I AM POSTING IT. probs cause it’s 4am and i’m tired (never). also i left the the ending kinda up to you. if you want him to apologize then you can imagine that or if you want her to dump his sorry ass then slay!

PARALLEL UNIVERSE. the exact words your boyfriend had jotted down on a notepad left in the sitting room. you'd got home from work, noticing a mess of things on the coffee table and chair where you could assume your boyfriend alex had sat all afternoon. he was currently in between tours and albums meaning, he was drawing inspiration from everything. for some reason he was in dire need of lyrics as if he didn't just release an album a year ago.

alex's process, that he'd explained to you the evening prior, consisted of needing lyrics by the end of the next year after the album. which made no sense to you but apparently to him it was all worked out in his brain. so he'd spent the past few months jotting down every word that interested him. sure it got frustrating, he left dinner with your sister the other day because he had a writing epiphany. only to have you come home two hours later to a rather pissed off version of him. him going on about messing up the beat and locking himself in his office for the rest of the evening.

alex was irritable and frustrated with his lack of inspiration and you honestly party blamed yourself. with his exes, he'd had several love songs that could have been mistaken for poems lined up. the thoughts of you possibly being at fault for this version of your boyfriend woke you up during the early hours of the morning. there was a part of you that worried you weren't enough for the romantic man. and your biggest fears seemed to shine the moment your eyes crossed over the notepad. the title scribbled 'parallel universe' in alex's sloppy handwriting. below were crossed out messy lines of writing. all hurting you more than the next.

'in some parallel universe, i know you

held me tighter. i tried harder. you spoke,

"look my love, i will look for you in every

lifetime." i didn't have you in this one so,

i'll have to wait for the next'

that was enough to have your heart beating out of your chest. there was more written at the bottom, but you couldn't bother. you'd felt betrayed. it didn't matter who it was about but he did at least owe you that. not that you ever wanted to hear it. hear who he was thinking about this way, dreaming about being in the arms of while actually in yours. the feeling was indescribable.

the hum of the tv was the only thing beside your heavy breaths that you'd heard. not acknowledging the sound of footsteps down the hallway into the living room, where you stood. your back towards him as he stopped in the doorway. "thought that was you. thought i heard the door. look- i think i finally have something figured out so maybe we can go out to that place you like in a bit. the one with the blue drink that you always get and have a proper night out. it's been awhile..." his warm voice trailed off at your silence, and lack of acknowledgment of him.

you let out a deep breath before turning your head, noticing the man with a white towel wrapped around his waist. his hair was dripping wet besides one strand over his eyes. he looked so fucking good, and that fucking hurt.

the expression on your face told him something not that it was correct in anyway. "we don't have to go there, i mean.." he licked his lips. "we could always stay here tonight, order in... stay in bed."

you didn't know why you let him ramble on. maybe because there was a part of you that hoped the paper in your hand was a lyric nick wrote, or maybe jamie, or probably matt... married matt. "alex?"

"hm?" he hummed uncomfortably as he stepped closer to you, securing the towel in the process. his eyes finally caught the prize. the notepad still in your hand visible for all to see. he could have sworn he shit himself. "y/n-"

"why-" you huffed as you stepped back from him. "i'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume this is miles' words, not yours." the silence on the other end answered your question as you felt something sharp in your soul. like you were being cut in half, your heart at least. "alex," you whined as pure pain took over. p

"angel," alex called out as you only shook your head. he tried to step closer once more as you backed up, now against the wall. he sighed and stepped back assuring his defeat. "it's just words. just some lyrics, i needed something to write so-"

"so you decided to declare your love for your ex? dream about her holding onto you?" you scoffed as his body stiffened and he turned his head slightly. "no-"

"then what the fuck is this then?" you held up the paper as your eyes began to sting. alex gulped at the sight of your pain. "angel, i had nothing okay? so i tapped into a place i haven't been in forever- years, haven't felt that in years. but i needed something dramatic and devotional."

"then write about your goddamn girlfriend! or make something up, what the hell, alex?" your voice threatened a yell as he sighed and attempted to step closer to you. "this is my job, baby. this is what i do for a living. i don't-"

"just," you started before biting your lip and crossing your arms. "i can't do this right now. i can't be with you right now," you mumbled as you grabbed your purse and jacket. all sat on the chair where you'd left them not even five minutes ago. alex's breathing got heavier as he watched you slip on your jacket. he tried to stop you. he tried to tell you that his words meant nothing. but maybe you'd listen, maybe in a parallel universe.

[stein-is-sleepy]

stay strong for me, okay? (wc. 1k)

you and nanami have been in a healthy relationship for three years now. some fights here and there but nothing too bad. it was april 7th, 12:34 am. you have been waiting for nanami in his office, being his secretary after all. you needed him to sign some documents for a couple clients. the phone by his desk rang, the sound was annoying so you picked it up. to your surprise, it was for you. "hello? is this Y/N?" the caller spoke, in a slightly worried tone. "yes, this is Y/N speaking." you wondered why the tone of the caller was like that. gloomy and down. "you're dating nanami kento, correct?" "yes, I am his girlfriend." you were starting to get worried, the caller taking a deep breath before speaking again. "he's in a car accident. at the hospital right now. he's breathing but he hasn't woken up in around 3 hours since the crash. I'm his nurse, he's in room 17-A, third floor at the 'Tokyo Saiseikai Central Hospital'." "okay, thank you." you hung up the phone, quickly gathering your things as you headed down into the parking lot. once you got inside, a few thoughts wondered into your head. 'is he okay?' 'will he be okay?' 'stupid fucking nurse, telling me almost three hours later.' ' how did she know what number to call and who his girlfriend was?' it was like a waterfall of stress and emotions.

april 7th, 12:52 am.

you had arrived at the hospital around 10 minutes ago, in the exact room nanami was in. you sat next to him on a table, holding his hand as you watch his chest rize and fall. the nurse you had talked to came in the door. "hello, ms. Y/N. i'm nurse yumi. nanami's alright, his blood signals are fine but--" once she said but too many thoughts went into your head. a mix of emotions and anxiety drowned you. 'but?' 'why but?' 'i thought he was fine?' 'why?', 'why?, 'why?'. "--he has a brain tumor. possibly fatal. it's only minor for now, we're going to have a surgery later, around 4:30. only close family can watch or stay." you didn't even realize it but tears were running down your cheek. your grip on nanami's hand only tightened. no words came out of your mouth. no thoughts came into your head. nothing. just the pure thought of the man you loved, dying.

june 29th, 2:05 pm.

it had been two months since you first came into this hospital. the first few weeks of being there, you slept beside him, wrapping his arms around you to stimulate the times he held you close. most of the time he was unconscious but when he was, the two of you always talked about what you wanted to do once he was okay again. how he wanted you to carry his child, how he wanted to marry you in, how he'd propose, how he'd break the news to his family, your family. today, you were in a chair, sitting beside him. that was how you spent most of your days. you never left him. no, never. his birthday was less than a week from now so you wanted to ask him what he wanted to do for his birthday. "nanami, what do you want to do for your birthday? any wishes?" you asked, your eyes as soft as clouds, your voice like honey. "i want all the curses in the world yo be gone." god, his voice and the way he looked at you was like heaven. heaven in a man. heaven in a person. "another wish. one that's possible." "well, i don't know. i'm already with the best thing a man could ever ask for so i'll think about it." "think about it long and hard for me, okay?" "anything for you." the way he spoke to you made you get butterflies in your stomach even though you've been with him for such a long time.

july 2nd, 11:37 pm.

you were with nanami again. his brain tumor just getting worse. tomorrow would be his birthday. the day he would hopefully be granted out of the stupid hospital. you decided to ask him what his wish was again. "nanami, what's your wish for your birthday? your doctor said you could probably get out tomorrow." "i want to marry you. i want you to have our kids. to be the greatest mother in the world. the best wife anyone could ask for." "i promise we'll get married as soon as you get out." "you better keep that promise." "i will." nanami had a letter on his night stand. you wondered if it was even a letter. i might've just been some random letter the doctors left. "you need some sleep. i'll stay with you." nanami pressed the back of your head against his chest. pressing a small kiss on your forehead. he nodded then closed his eyes. his hand was intertwined with yours, slowly falling asleep. you were still awake though. just staying with him for the most. then, he squeezed your hand three times before his grip suddenly went away on your hand. that was when you fell asleep.

july 3rd, 3:04 pm.

nanami kento died on july 3rd, 4:56 am. a day before his 28th birthday. it was his around an hour after his funeral, you were just sitting by his grave, the tears slowly falling down on your cheek. then, his nurse gave you the letter on his nightstand. it was for you. you opened it, finding out was his last wish was.

'my dearest, Y/N,'

'i'm sorry left you alone. i'm sorry we never got married. the truth is, i want you to be happy. to love even when i'm gone. i want to see your pretty smile looking up at me. don't cry at my funeral, okay? i know it's hard not to but stay strong for me, okay? i won't be here anymore but i want you to know i'll always love you. i love you.'

(an: this is heavily inspired by oikawa's last wish on ao3. this is also my first angst work so im sorry if it seemed rushed or bad. i hope you had a good cry!)

[nobedofroses]

December 4

pairing: Marcus Moreno x reader

warnings: fluff city with a tiny bit of spice at the end, no actual smut tho

words: 1k

a/n: new family! using one of the bonus pics because it was perfect for them!

Last, Full List, Next

🏔🏔🏔

This year was your first Christmas as Missy’s stepmom, and you wanted to make sure that all three of you (including Marcus) felt good about it. This was possibly an impossible task, but you were an ambitious person, and you knew it didn’t have to be perfect to be great. 

An idea that you had to make the entire holiday season fun was to start celebrating in little ways throughout the whole month. And since you and Missy shared a love of comfy, cozy things, you decided to create an advent calendar for all three of you (Marcus also loved comfy, cozy things he just never thought to get them for himself) that would start your Christmas season off right. 

The first gift was a mug painting kit, so that each of you would have a personalized mug for all your hot drinks that season. Missy had the idea that you should make them for each other, so she made yours, you made Marcus’ and Marcus made hers. You might have gotten a little misty that night when you saw all the love and care Missy so obviously put into painting yours. 

The next day included everything needed to make gourmet hot chocolate, to have in your mugs, of course. And there was enough for supplies so that you could have it every day if you wanted. Marcus asked how much all the fancy chocolate had cost and you stuck a piece of one of the chocolate bars in his mouth to quiet him, which Missy agreed was absolutely the right thing to do. 

Day three were matching fleece blankets with your initials embroidered in the corners. You used them to watch some of the old claymation Christmas shows to stay warm on the couch. Missy insisted that you sat in the middle between her and Marcus. This was because, “Dad always falls asleep and snores super loud, right in my ear. He’s your husband now, so you should get used to that.” 

Today was the fourth day and the start of a series of connected gifts. You had gotten full matching pajama sets for the three of you, but had to break them up into three days because towards the end of the month you had started running out of ideas. Starting from the bottom, today’s gifts were slippers, and you just knew that Missy would love them.

And you were right, “Oh. My. Gosh. Look at them! They’re little Rudolphs, that is so cute!” 

She held them up for Marcus to see and he looked on happily, “Oh yeah, their red noses.” 

You chuckled at his statement of the obvious and then pulled yours out of the paper gift bag you had been storing your part of the gifts. Marcus and Missy got theirs fully wrapped, but it was a lot of effort to put in for something that you already knew what it was. 

When Missy saw that yours were the same, she exclaimed, “Matching! Oh my gosh, perfect!” 

“Yes, perfect for my favorite girls. Now I’ll open mine and see what kind of slippers my amazing wife got me—”

“Dad’s are matching too! We’ll have a whole family of Rudolphs!” Missy grinned, already slipping hers on. 

Marcus looked at you with slight dismay, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought there was only one Rudolph in the story.” 

You laughed and kissed his cheek, “You’re wrong.” 

“C’mon Dad, put yours on so we can take a picture!” Missy hurried her father along, which was good because it distracted him from the fact that he was putting reindeer slippers on to be immortalized by her Instagram post. 

Missy deftly arranged the three of you so all of the slippers were visible and snapped the picture. Then she flipped her phone’s camera around and took a group selfie with your two smiling faces and Marcus’ playfully grumpy one. 

Thirty seconds later, you got the notification that @peacelovemissy had tagged you in a post. The caption read “don’t let @heroicsmorenodad’s face fool you, he loved the slippers as much as I did.” Since you were on her profile, you looked at her other posts and realized that she had been posting what she had gotten every day and either forgetting to tag you or not doing it because all of the other pictures had just had the items. It flooded your heart with warmth to know that she really was enjoying this at least half as much as you were. 

Marcus saw your watery eyes and, while Missy was busy replying to some friends’ comments that had already appeared, kissed your forehead and whispered to you, “Don’t cry again, you’ll freak her out.” 

That made you laugh and thankfully got rid of your tears. 

Soon, dinner was ready and the three of you went about your night, watching another Christmas movie. This time it was the animated Grinch, as per Marcus’ request. 

In bed that night, after some goings-on, Marcus was holding you close and telling you how thankful he was to have someone who loved Missy as much as he did. 

“You are an incredible mother, step or otherwise, and you are making her feel so loved and special by doing this,” Marcus said softly, pausing for a quick kiss. “But don’t burn yourself out with all of this.” 

You smiled, “You’re a bit too late telling me that, babe. It’s all already picked out and bought. I wouldn’t say I’m burnt out. Except for maybe wrapping them, that could do me in if I don’t give myself enough time.” 

“Then let me do it, I don’t need to be surprised everyday,” he told you and you hesitated because you wanted it to be fun for him too. “I mean it, if you don’t let me help out, I’ll tell you what I got you for Christmas.” 

You gasped loudly, he knew how much you loved surprises and hated spoilers, “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“I would,” and he looked so solemn that you believed him. “Do we have a deal?” 

You huffed, even though he was actually going to take a good deal of annoyance and stress over perfect wrapping off your hands, “Fine. You can wrap them. On one condition.” 

Marcus rolled his eyes fondly, “What’s that?” 

Smiling cheekily, you moved from his arms and started kissing his bare chest and then lower down, letting him guess where you were headed, “That you let me say thank you.”

🏔🏔🏔

[diangelofan]

I think that these all have Percy as the main character... hopefully I am not wrong (just going by memory):

Time Flies (22k), summary: Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood were in love. The two dated for five years, and Percy thought they would get married. Until they broke up. Three years later, Percy is ready to propose to his boyfriend, until a familiar face on the cover of the Daily Prophet brings back old feelings...

I dare you to dare me (1k), summary: Fred didn’t even blink. “Harry said he didn’t want to join.” “So did I,” Oliver murmured. George didn’t allow him to stall any longer. He put his feet up between Fred and Angelina on the sofa and tilted his chair on its hind two legs. “Oliver, mate, truth or dare?”

So how about trans boy Percy Weasley? (1k), summary: Age 10: She remembers flying and her mother’s call of “Boys!” and not correcting her and, 10 being a lot different than 8, wonders. Age 11: He feels the smallest jolt of surprise after spending hours each night trying out new words for himself, and wonders how the rest of his family can not know, can not see written on his face the things he’s come to find out about himself over the past week, months, years.

Petty Theft (1k), summary: Percy pilfers Oliver's sweater. The twins are suspicious.

spilt truth (2k), summary: After Percy and Oliver spill Veritaserum on themselves, Fred and George make sure they spill some truth.

Tea Time (39k), summary: After the incidents of Cursed Child, Harry and Ginny think Albus could benefit from a mentor. Because of the relationship with his own father, they think Percy is an ideal choice. A series of tea times between Percy Weasley and Albus Potter. (But first with Percy and Harry.)

The Grandfather Clock (23k), summary: James Jr wants a summer job; his Mum suggests he help out Uncle Perce.

Facing the Weasleys (2k), summary: Percy has been sneaking out at nights, and the Weasleys want to know why. Can Percy keep his secret from his large family?

boggarts (1k), summary: Professor Lupin decides the students needs some hands-on practice however this leads to Percy's biggest fear as well as his sexuality being exposed

Hidden Shame (3k), summary: Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood have been dating in secret since their Third-Year at Hogwarts and none of the Weasleys know about it. After Gryffindor win the Quidditch House Cup, Ginny overhears Oliver ask Percy if they can have some alone time and worries that her older brother is being forced to stay silent. Upon confronting him, it becomes apparent that Oliver isn't the one that's ashamed ... it's Percy.

The Oliver Fiasco (7k), summary: Percy had always planned to keep Oliver a secret. His aspirations for Minister for Magic didn't really mix with his choice in partners. But then Ginny had to find out, and Oliver had to leave him with too many bruises to make excuses for. Awkwardness ensues.

Chocking On His Own Words (2k), summary: Oliver comes out to Percy, who doesn't react at all in the way Oliver expected him to...

Series At least I can hold you (4k): summaries: 1. Percy didn’t want to come out. He remembers what his family said when Bill did. The word despite still hits him deep down. 2. Quidditch obsessed Oliver Wood would never cancel practice unless someone had died. Fred and George had to get to bottom of it and learn things that were meant to be kept secret. 3. Percy Weasley has been acting so strangely. Oliver just wanted to make sure he was okay. But Percy might say something he wanted to keep secret.

Like two people have inboxed me for Percy fic recs and I feel so bad but I don't read as much as I used to and I feel like i've already recced all the big top fics I really like

so they just sit there mocking me and im just "oh ill go scouring the Percy ao3 tag in a few days!" and then another week passes

So

Does anyone have any recommendations for Percy centric fics?

Any ship, Any rating, Any length

I think i might make like a living Percy fic rec doc or something. That could be neat.

[cloud-9ine]

ohmygod the absence of you was so gooooood, big sad on that fic. however, i have come for some fluff to cure my sad. if its ok, i was hoping to request bruno with a nb s/o who has freckles? he gives off enough goofy vibes for me to think he would love sitting with his s/o and kissing/counting all their freckles.

Pequitas Bonitas

⤷ pairing - bruno madrigal x (gn) reader

⤷ fandom - encanto

⤷ warnings - slightly steamy but nothing explicit, it’s implied

⤷ summary - bruno never thought of himself as a man with a particular taste in appearance, but he couldn't help but fall in love with the freckles on your cheeks

⤷ notes - i also have freckles, so i have no complaints. also you are entirely correct bruno is a massive dork

⤷ word count - 1k+

⤷ consider buying me a coffee!

⤷ join our discord server

The first time you saw Bruno staring at you, you weren’t quite sure why he was doing it. 

To be honest, you simply reasoned that he was socially inept from staying in those walls for so long, and just didn’t know that it wasn’t that appropriate to not look directly at someone’s face for a solid five minutes. So you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Four months later, you made the mistake of assuming his social skills might have improved. But no, as it would have it, every time you looked at him, he was already staring at you, eyes darting over your face as if he was searching for something. You were convinced he had to know what he was doing, because once he noticed you caught him, he would turn his head right around. When you watched a little longer, you saw the tell-tale blush on his face.

It was around then that you figured out he had a little crush on you. 

Bruno was an interesting man to court. A blushing, stuttering mess every time you came around- you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have fun teasing the poor man. It was simply too cute to see the way he squirmed, obviously not used to the level of affection you were giving to him. Of course, you indulged yourself with him whenever he wanted, all too happy to help him out. 

Still, even nearly a year into your relationship, you would continue to catch him staring at you.

“Querido, you can’t keep doing that,” you drawled one night, his dark eyes shining a deep whiskey colour in the low yellow light of your bedside lamp. He quickly looked away, dark hair obscuring his expression from view.

“Keep doing what? I’m not doing anything- I’ve never done anything.” He twiddled his thumbs, shoulders hunched as he perched himself on the edge of your mattress. You smiled, crawling behind him on your knees before slipping your arms underneath his arms, relishing in the way he tensed slightly. 

Bruno was always hot, almost uncomfortably so, which would sometimes end up in you waking up under the sheets in a sweaty tangle of limbs during the height of the summer, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, you couldn’t help but take pride in the way you could physically feel his body temperature rise as your fingers trailed across his stomach and up his chest, your chin fitted snugly at the crook of his neck. He shuddered in such a delightful way when your hot breath danced across his neck that you had to bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

“You know what I’m talking about,” you hummed, leaning your head onto his. You eyed his expression, studying the way his eyebrows pinched together and eyes stared directly down into his lap. It was obvious to anyone that he was nervous. You rubbed circles into the fabric of his shirt, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“It’s your freckles.” He blurted, making you freeze. While you usually refrained from dwelling on your freckles that much, you knew opinions on the feature themselves were divided. Some were convinced that they were god’s gift to humanity, whilst others were adamant they were indicative of impurity. You only hoped that Bruno wasn’t the latter. 

“Oh...” you muttered, withdrawing your arms slightly with a sheepish chuckle, “do you not like them?” He whipped around, eyes widened and hands outstretched defensively as he shook his head. He looked almost horrified at the assumption.

“No, mi amor! I think they’re lovely!” He floundered, crawling between your legs as you propped yourself up against the headboard. His large hands raised to cup your face, thumbs tracing stars and hearts onto your cheeks. Your breath hitched as he leaned forward, lips meeting your forehead with a candid gentleness that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Ay, Bruno, no...” you resisted with a faux annoyance, playfully pushing against his chest as his hands meandered down to your waist, lips tracing down to your temple, to your nose and down to your chin, all the while he murmured sweet nothings into your hot skin between each kiss. Your chest felt light, heart pounding against your ribs while he squeezed your sides. 

Your hands weaved through his silky hair, fingers deftly teasing out the knots as he hummed in satisfaction, head moving down to the exposed skin of your shoulder from where your oversized night shirt had slipped. 

“I think every part of you is stunning,” he spoke, lips pressing to the spattering of freckles on your shoulder, “your freckles are beautiful, just like the rest of you,” Your stomach jumped, his teeth grazing your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, causing you to tug at his hair in response. Bruno gazed up at you, nothing but admiration in his eyes.

“Lo siento, mi amor.” You chuckled, leaning down to rest your forehead against his. 

“It’s nothing, querido.” You pushed his hair away from his face. He laced his fingers with yours, pulling your hand up to press a kiss to your palm. His touch was so tender, shaping to your being and yielding to your desire. How could you not idolize the man in front of you? In all his ways, your heart ached for his touch as if he was your life line. 

You grabbed his chin, tilting his head up to finally plant a kiss on his lips. He seemed caught off guard, his gasp being swallowed by your mouth. You didn’t dwell, rather, pulling away after a second- just enough to leave him flustered.

“If you love my freckles so much... how about I show you which part of you I like the most?” His eyes widened, and he took in a deep breath.

“Of course, mi amor.”

[therenlover]

🍄 with our dearest Baron + prompt 19 from kisses (forehead kisses) also CONGRATS ON THE BIG MILESTONE YAYYYY I AM SO PROUD OF YOUUUU HERE IS TO 1k 🍾 AND TO MANY MOREEE 🥂🎉🎉

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! I just watched Ladies In Lavendar tonight, so this was very inspired by that setting. I hope you enjoy it!

Confessions Over Coffee, A Helmut Zemo x Reader Drabble

Prompt: Forehead Kisses With Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of Drinking/Hangovers

Word Count: 1000~

------

The cottage was like a world in and of itself. 

You rarely had to leave. The community was small, a seaside town where the trappings of modernity were kept at bay by tradition, so all of your business could be conducted on foot or by bike. Your little back garden grew vegetables and flowers and with the money Helmut had stashed away from his life before you lived comfortably. 

In that house on the cliffs near the sea, things were safe. It had taken a few years to gain the trust of the locals, ever fickle and set in their ways, but soon enough you were neighbors instead of foreigners. Even if someone were to come to try to find you and drag you back to the world outside, none of your friends would even let them get close. You were safe. So, you learned to relish in the little things and let yourself relax. 

This morning, the little thing you chose to enjoy was coffee. 

Usually, you would have had tea, but Helmut had come back late from a meeting with his friends at the pub and was going to be incredibly hungover when he woke up. A cup of strong, black coffee would do him good. As you poured his cup from the french press you paused for a moment before pouring your own. Caffeine was still fine in moderation, that was what the doctor said. Resolutely, you poured your own mug and added plenty of sugar. 

It only took Helmut a few more minutes to rouse himself from his dreamless sleep and stumble into the kitchen where you waited. The second he saw you, he smiled. Despite that, you could tell he was battling a severe headache from his escapades the night before. Now that he wasn’t drinking as frequently, they tended to hit him twice as hard after half the alcohol. You offered him his cup of coffee with a sly smile. 

“I thought you’d need this,” Your voice was a lilting tease. 

He took the mug from you gratefully, squinting against the rising daylight that streamed in from what felt like every direction. “You were correct, Schatz, thank you,” For every ounce of gratitude in his sleep-rough voice, though, there was an equal measure of exhaustion. It really had been a late night. Maybe today wasn’t the right morning for news…

No. You steeled yourself. It was better to do it now, in the soft glow of the morning as Helmut wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close, than to do it later. 

With a deep breath, you leaned into his touch. “How was your night?”

“Long,” He groaned, “Franz insisted we stay for another round every time I tried to slip away,” 

“But did you enjoy yourself?” 

“Not nearly as much as I would have if you had come with me,” The fingers on his free hand laced with yours as he drank deeply from the cup, letting his eyes flutter shut. “We missed you last night, by the way. Magda was sure to remind me that she was bored without your company at least once an hour for the duration of the night,”

You swept a small lock of his hair away from his forehead. “I’m afraid Madga has lost her drinking buddy for a while,”

Helmut stilled. Confusion laced every feature on his tired face as he searched your eyes for some sort of clue, the key to the puzzle you had laid in front of him. “I… I don’t understand, Schatz. Did… did something happen? Have I done something to upset you?” 

A smile spread across your face as you shook your head no. “I just can’t drink, darling,” 

“Can’t drink? You’ve drunk me under the table hundreds of-”

“I’m pregnant,” 

He froze. It was as if in an instant his hangover had disappeared and he was viewing the world with newfound clarity. “What?” 

Your grin grew wider. “I’m pregnant, Helmut, we’re having a baby,” 

Helmut’s world stopped turning. The only thing that mattered was him and you and the child you carried with you. With a trembling hand, he set down his mug on the counter before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him. “Mein Gott, Schatz, I… Mein Gott,” His voice trembled as he spoke. All you could do was run your hand through his hair as he put together his thoughts. “How long?”

“Two weeks,” you murmured. “When I went into town for groceries I stopped by the doctor’s and had then run a blood test. I’m about a month and a half along now,”

“And you didn’t tell me?” His words held no vitriol as he pulled back, letting his hands rest on your stomach, tracing the curves there as if he expected a bump. 

“I was waiting for the right time,” 

Slowly, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. It lasted only a second, but it conveyed things words could never say as you stood, all three of you connected, basked in the glow of the sunlight from the big windows behind you. You had never felt more at peace. 

“You have given me a great gift, Schatz,” Helmut whispered, lips still inches from your face as he pulled away, “and I promise, I will be with you every step of this journey, for better or for worse,” 

“Even when I’m vomiting on your shoes?” 

He chuckled. “Even when you’re vomiting on my shoes, though I’d hope that I could get you to a restroom before that had to happen,”

It was easy to fall against his chest and giggle, relishing in the soft vibrations of his laughter. “This baby is going to be the most loved creature on this whole planet. Especially with a great papa like you,” 

Helmut couldn’t help but agree. In the back of his mind, he could see another shining pair of eyes, still misty from joyful tears, and a child long dead and buried. He smiled. 

“That they will be, Schatz. I’ll make sure of it,”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Hair Dye

A/N: Another conversation with @dreamer821 and another fic is the product of it. I’ve been dying my hair for over a decade now, and JJ and I were discussing the colours we had been and it spiralled into this. It’s short but honestly it’s just self-indulgent fluff! I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Sirius dyes your hair.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some swearing, but honestly it’s a load of fluff

Word count: 1k

“Love, you do know you are magic right?”

“Sirius, I love you but please shut up and mix the bleach. My roots need doing.”

The smell of the bleach has both of your noses crinkling but Sirius is, as always, determined and works his way around your head, applying the bleach onto your roots, making sure that they are well covered before taking a step back.

The bleach burns as it develops; a sensation you had become used to over time. You sit on the toilet with cling film wrapped around your head; the heat helping the bleach to take quicker. It’s a sight to see – Sirius grins as he leans against the sink.

“Do you think you’d ever dye your hair a different colour?” You wonder.

Sirius takes a moment to think it over, “I don’t know. I don’t trust a lot of people with my hair.”

You laugh, “I know you don’t, but curiosity you know?”

“I do know,” He starts, “Why don’t we try it?”

“Try what?”

“Dye a bit of my hair? We can match then.”

“Are you serious?”

“That’s my name, but yes, I’m being serious.”

With the left over bleach in the bowl, you apply it to single chunk of his hair – right behind his ear in a place that can be covered easily but would show if his hair was tied up.

Sirius is nervous all the way through the process. He hardly ever touched his hair – he’d have the occasional trim but had never done anything as drastic in this. His trust in you at this moment was implicit.

As you’re sectioning his hair off and applying the bleach, you’re slightly overwhelmed with the trust he was placing in you. Sirius was the first to admit that he was quite vain when it came to his looks and his hair. He made it his mission in Third Year to grow it out, and he had kept it long – enjoying the looks he got off boys and girls whenever he tied it up.

You enjoyed playing with his hair; he’d let you plait it and style it, but he had never let you make such a permanent change. It scared him, but he trusted you with every inch of his life.

---------

You towel dry his bleached strand as Sirius towel dries your hair. He wraps the same towel around your shoulders, pulling you in for quick kiss before sitting you back down on the toilet.

“I’m assuming you’re staying purple.” Sirius murmurs, emptying the tube of dye into another bowl.

“You assume correct, sir.” You laugh, “It’s only my roots that need touching up and I’m not in any rush to change this colour. Let’s do your strand first, that way I don’t use too much on my hair.”

Sirius chuckles, but lets you apply the dye to his now freshly bleached lock. He watches you in the mirror; your tongue peaks out of your mouth as you focus on making sure his hair is entirely covered.

Once you’ve finished with his strand, he works his way around your head, painting the purple dye onto your lighter roots.

Idle conversation is made through this; plans for the weekend, whether Remus was finally going to ask the girl at the coffee shop out – he had been pining over her for two months now, it was time he did something, you felt, and Sirius agreed with a smile.

He leans back against the sink and crosses his arms as the dye develops on your hair. The conversation continues, and by the time you need to wash the dye, you’ve come up with a plan to get Remus to ask out the girl from the coffee shop. Sirius thinks that it’s an extravagant plan but he’s happy to go along with it as it’s your plan, and he’d go to the ends of the earth for you.

By the end of the afternoon, you had both finished with the dyes, happy with the final result. Your hair had returned to its bright purple, no root showing to lessen the effect and Sirius was happy with the singular purple streak now running through his hair.

He didn’t think he would ever change his hair, but he realises that there isn’t a lot that he wouldn’t do for you. He tucks his hair behind his ear, liking the way the purple sits with his dark-brown-almost-black hair. He chuckles to himself as he thinks of how his mother and father would react to see his hair like this.

The Marauders don’t notice a thing until Sirius ties his hair up around them. Then they see the bright purple streak behind his ear.

“Sirius,” James gasps, “You let (Y/N) touch your hair… but no-one is allowed to touch your hair.”

“(Y/N) is.” Sirius states in a matter-of-fact tone, “I wouldn’t trust you lot with my hair even if you paid me.”

“Ha bloody ha.” Remus laughs, “What made you decide to do this?”

Sirius shrugs, “I wanted to match.”

James looks at Sirius with his mouth open, “That is possibly the sweetest bloody thing I’ve ever heard.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Seriously,” James continues, “I want that. Do you think (Y/N) would bleach a section of my hair and dye it red to match Lily’s?”

Remus laughs at James, “How do you think Lily would respond to that?”

James shrugs, a glint of mischief alive in his eyes, “I don’t know but I’m willing to try.”

Sirius chuckles, “I’ll talk to (Y/N) and see what can be done.”

James beams, thinking of Lily’s reaction, “Sweet, thanks mate.”

--------

Sirius is still thinking of James’ idea when he falls onto the couch next to you hours later.

“How are the lads?”

“James wants you to bleach his hair like mine and dye it red for Lily.”

You gasp, “With their wedding this close? I’m not risking my maid of honour title for that man.”

“I told him you’d think about it, but I’ll let him know it’s a definite no.”

You lean into Sirius’ side, “Maybe for their first anniversary – where Lily can’t kill me.”

“What do you think then? Do you like the colour?”

Sirius hums as your finger curls around the coloured lock of his hair. He catches your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. He nips one of your knuckles before kissing the back of your hand.

“I do, but I have something to ask you.”

“And that is?”

His eyes shine bright as he asks, “What colour is next?”

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes​

Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7​

[pyrobane-fandom-space]

Significant Strides in Relations

Author: Merlyn Bane

Word Count: 10.3K (shut up, don't @ me okay)

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi manages to catch the attention of his attache on a diplomatic mission.

Warnings: Adult Content™. Strong language, smut. Virgin!Obi I guess. Unprotected sex--wrap it up!

A/N: Did I come back from the dead just to post some completely self-indulgent bullshit? Yes I did. This is like 3.7K worth of smut with like 5K worth of justification and like 1K of Skywalker bullshit at the end and I'm not sorry about any of it. I would also just like to blame @no-droids and their Open Door series for giving me a Thing for Obi-Wan in the first place.

(gif found on google, not mine)

You want to fuck the Jedi.

And, yeah, sure, you feel a little bit bad about it. You know enough about the Order to know that that's something the Jedi don't do--if the poor man knew the direction your thoughts had taken, he'd probably be scandalized. You can clearly imagine his face turning, just, scarlet, especially because you do mean fuck. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is visiting your planet on a diplomatic mission that you haven't been briefed on the particulars of, and you've been assigned to him as an attaché during his stay--tending to his needs, making sure he's comfortable while he's here. It's a function you've performed many, many times as part of your duties to the royal family, but Kenobi has been...particularly pleasant, to work with. The Jedi is kind, treats you like an equal even though you're technically working for him for the time being, and he's funny. You hadn't realized the Jedi were allowed a sense of humor, but Maker, this one is sarcastic, constantly teasing with a playful glint in his blue eyes that is...not helping you with the whole 'wanting to irredeemably corrupt him' problem that you're currently having. 

You show up at his quarters just before breakfast to collect him as you have for the last two days and he's already there waiting for you, opening the door just as you're coming to a stop in front of it.  Kenobi gives you a gracious smile as he steps into the hallway with you, letting the door slide closed behind him, and you return it before turning to start making your way to the dining hall. He falls in step next to you and despite the fact that he really isn't walking that close to you, you swear you can feel him there. "Good morning, young one." 

You snort softly, scrunching your nose up as you give him an unimpressed side-eye. "Young one? You realize I'm within five years of you? I think you spend too much time with your old padawan and not enough with your peers, Kenobi."

The Jedi chuckles next to you, looking suitably sheepish as he grins over at you. "My apologies, my lady," he says, and you can tell that he's teasing you lightly. You roll your eyes but don't correct him--no, instead you internalize it, and his innocent my lady gets cataloged away with the rest of the impure thoughts that have been plaguing you since you saw him in the great hall upon his arrival. "I meant no offense."

"None was taken."

The conversation sort of just...drifts off, and you take the time to study his features out of the corner of your eye while he's looking ahead. The Jedi is...handsome, and frankly you think it's very unfair of the Order to lock all of that up under a chastity vow. The lines of his face are classical, look like they could have been carved from marble--only accentuated by the scruff of the beard lining a jaw you kind of want to sink your teeth into. 

And, Maker. His eyes. The clearest crystal blue, like twin glaciers, piercing directly into your soul every time you meet them but...gentle. Always gentle. You know he's as talented a warrior as he is a negotiator, you've heard the stories, but you would never know it from his pretty eyes. 

"What are your plans for the day, Master Kenobi? Since there won't be any official matters taking place today." It's the third day of the week, and on your planet it is considered inappropriate to do such work then. Most of your people will be in services today, to include the royal family. You probably should be, but you had offered to stay behind and continue to assist the Jedi--you've never cared for such things, anyway, and you certainly think he makes for better company.

Kenobi turns his head just enough to give you a small smile before he looks forward again, humming softly as he considers his answer. "I will likely confer with the Council this afternoon, update them on how the negotiations are going. Perhaps I will take some time to meditate, as well. You may have most of the day to yourself." It's quiet for a moment, then: "And you may just call me Obi-Wan, if you wish."

Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan--

It does not escape your attention that this isn't an offer that was even extended to your employers, who he's supposed to be here on the sole purpose of brokering an agreement with. They've still been using titles with each other, you know they have. Fuck. "Obi-Wan," you repeat, hoping that it escapes his notice how much you find that you like the way it feels on your tongue. Obi-Wan. "If you find you have the time, later, maybe I could show you around a little more. There are some places on the palace grounds I think you might enjoy."

The Jedi hums again, and you can see that he's still smiling when you look over at him. "I will certainly keep that in mind."

You reach the dining hall only a few minutes later, and go your separate ways once you've gotten your food. You find a seat at one of the far tables tucked into a corner that's already populated by a couple of your fellow staff members, making sure to sit so that you're facing him so he can get your attention if he needs it. You're being elbowed almost the second your ass hits the seat, the girl to your left clearly desperate for whatever gossip she thinks you have as she leans in and whispers at you in hushed tones. 

"Maker, you've got a dreamy one. You're so lucky, I was assigned to--"

You're not even listening, not really--tuning her out while you tuck into your breakfast. You suppose you don't have any real right to be so annoyed with her, truthfully, given that you've been having similar thoughts about him yourself all morning and for most of the last couple of days, but you find that you are anyway. The girl doesn't even seem to realize that you're ignoring her, continuing to chatter at you until one of the other people at your table manages to redirect her attention, if not the subject. 

 You tell yourself that the reason your attention stays focused on the Jedi is in case he needs you for anything but you're not very convincing, even to yourself. Your mind wanders while you eat, formulating scenarios that all seem to end with Obi-Wan between your thighs. Most of these thoughts are generally nonsensical, idle flashes and half-strung together images, but some of them come through with alarming clarity. 

I want to suck his cock.

The Jedi suddenly chokes on whatever it is he's just eaten. 

You instinctively shift to stand up to try and help him but his companion is already there, smacking his back with more force than you think is probably necessary and laughing loudly enough that you can hear him from your table. Skywalker, you think his name is. He's still chuckling when they settle back down, despite the thoroughly unamused looks Obi-Wan is shooting him. You snort quietly to yourself and Skywalker turns his head to look at you like he can sense your eyes on them. Your eyes meet for a second, two, and then to your horror he winks at you.

Your stomach sinks. No. No, no. No. He's just winking at you because he caught you looking over at them, right? Jedi can't. Jedi can't read minds, right? Surely not. The younger Jedi raises an eyebrow at you, the edge of his lip curving into what can only be called a smirk, and you really. Just need the ground to open up and swallow you whole right here. Maker. You're going to have to work with Obi-Wan for the next couple of days--how the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eyes, now, knowing that he's heard you this entire time? 

 Breakfast passes both entirely too quickly and not near quickly enough, and before you know it, both Jedi are getting to their feet. You curse quietly under your breath and stand yourself, disposing of your tray before you manage to make yourself walk back over to join them. You still have a job to do, regardless of whether or not you want to dig yourself a nice deep hole to die in right now. You do your best to force a smile once you reach them, really trying your absolute hardest to pretend that none of...that, had just happened. Like you haven't been caught lusting over Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi by the man himself. 

Skywalker is the first to speak, that Maker-forsaken grin still plastered firmly in place on his face when he does. "Hello,"

You think he's having entirely too much fucking fun with this, frankly. 

Obi-Wan seems to agree with you, if the look he gives his companion then is anything to go by. You swallow, doing your best to reign in your composure as you raise a hand to wave at him in response before turning back to the man you're supposed to be assisting. "Are you--" you pause, clearing your throat before continuing. "Are you ready to return to your rooms?"

Maker. Maker. Why did you have to say--

"Quite," Obi-Wan answers before you can stutter out an apology, giving Skywalker what can only be described as a warning look before he turns back to follow you. Your gaze stays all but permanently affixed to the floor as you start making your way down the hall, the only thing indicating that he's still beside you the sound of his boots on the tile. 

You can feel his eyes on you when you reach his door but you still can't bring yourself to meet them, clearing your throat awkwardly and folding your hands behind your back in a bid to stop yourself from picking at your thumbnail from the nervous energy that's suddenly coursing through your body. "I. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day," you manage to stutter out, taking your leave before he can say anything to stop you.

You end up having a couple of hours to yourself to stew in the privacy of your own room before anyone comes for you. 

You groan quietly when you hear the knock at your door but haul yourself to your feet and make your way over anyway, pushing your hair out of your face. You frown minutely when you find one of your coworkers standing there. Kaljova--she's assigned to Skywalker, if you recall correctly. She seems vaguely concerned with the state you're in but is kind enough not to comment on it, giving you a polite smile instead. "Master Kenobi has asked for you," Kaljova tells you, and has the grace to pretend to not notice the way your face falls with it. 

"Do you know what he needs?" you ask her, blessedly managing to keep your voice even. You reach down to grab your cloak from the table by your door and tie it around your shoulders without waiting for her to actually answer, stepping out into the hallway and letting your door close behind you. 

She shakes her head, shrugging a little bit. "Master Skywalker didn't say, I'm sorry."

You shake your head, sighing softly but giving her a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay. Thank you for letting me know."

She returns your smile and nods once before she turns around and leaves you to your own devices again. You groan quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose as you work up the nerve to actually make your way to the visiting diplomat wing where you know he's waiting for you. It takes you a couple of minutes but you do manage to make your feet move eventually and they carry you there far faster than you'd have liked them to. 

You swallow harshly and close your eyes for a second before reaching up to knock on his door, bracing yourself. Maker, he probably wants to talk about it, clear the air or whatever, and you are just...absolutely not even a little bit equipped to deal with that right now, frankly. You're able to school your features as the door slides open but just barely, and you stop breathing altogether when you look up and meet those pretty blue eyes. 

And he seems...surprised to see you. 

That kriffing--

"You...didn't send for me, did you?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head, looking more confused if possible, and you just sigh quietly, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I think there was a...miscommunication." And I'm going to kill your fucking padawan. "I'll just--I'll just go." You raise a hand in a very awkward not-wave and turn on your heel to go, but then.

The Jedi gently grabs you by the elbow, and everything stops for a moment. 

Goddammit.

"Wait," Obi-Wan says, softly--like he's trying not to spook you. You take a deep, stuttering breath, and sigh it out, relaxing where you stand as you give up on getting out of this. "I believe...it would be a good idea, if we talked."

Yeah, that's. That's pretty much what you figured, unfortunately. 

"I'm very sorry, if I made you uncomfortable, I...I didn't know you could--" Didn't know you could hear me. 

"I know," he tells you, just as gently as before, and you reluctantly turn just enough to be able to face him. His eyes are soft when they regard you, and you find your breathing evening out despite yourself--wondering idly how much of it is actively his doing. "Just...come inside. Please."

You can't find it in yourself to deny him so you nod, letting him lead you into the room and trying to pretend that you can't feel your heart stop when the door slides shut behind you. Obi-Wan seems to notice you not knowing what to do with yourself because he gestures to one of the chairs in the sitting area, sitting down in the one opposite it once you're settled. It's quiet for a moment as both of you seem to search for the right words. 

"I would like to begin by apologizing for Anakin," he says finally, and you snort as the words register.  He gives you a wry smile in return, and continues. "He means well, but he can be...thoughtless, in his humor, at times. Particularly when it is at my expense."

"He sounds like he must have been a joy to train."

That earns you an almost startled sounding laugh out of the Jedi, which manages to get a real smile out of you. "I fear he may have also misled you, to an extent." He tells you, not quite meeting your eyes now as he scratches at his beard. You give him a questioning look and he sighs softly, leaning back in his chair. "We...can hear thoughts, but only if we go looking and it is considered very inappropriate to do so without reason."

You feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, then, and you tilt your head at him. "But you…?"

Obi-Wan winces, and nods. "You may have...projected, this morning, inadvertently. It was...rather loud, and my guards were not as firmly in place as they probably should have been."

Oh. So you'd shouted it at him, then. Great. "Oh."

"I had...gotten a sense of the direction of your thoughts, before that, but you were acting very professionally so thought it best to pay it no mind."

That's...very kind of him, actually, to have simply ignored it even though it must have made him uncomfortable, especially when he so easily could have just told you to knock it off or requested a different attache. You clear your throat, finding yourself picking at your thumbnail again. "I appreciate that."

"You needn't be embarrassed, you know." the Jedi murmurs softly, and you look up to meet his gaze despite yourself. He smiles at you a little bit, then, and it brings something very warm into those blue eyes of his that almost makes you just a little lightheaded. "These things happen. You're only human, you can't be expected to have complete control of your thoughts all the time."

"You do," you point out, just because you feel the need to. "Jedi do. So I'm told."

"We spend our whole lives learning to try." he amends, and there's something so human in the way that he grins that suddenly, all you want to do is lean over and kiss him. "It is a constant exercise, not a skill that can be mastered."

"Still. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable this week."

"Uncomfortable might not be the right word for it, speaking truthfully," Obi-Wan admits, so quietly that you're almost not even sure he's really said it at all. And--Maker, is he implying what it sounds like he's implying? You know your eyes must be just about bugging out of your head with the shock but he mercifully either doesn't notice or pretends not to, scratching at his beard again as he seems to consider his next words, and you...really need him to stop doing that. It's becoming hard enough to maintain your focus as it is. "There were times where I was perhaps...tempted."

You stare at him, blankly, blinking slowly as the words process. Tempted tempted tempted-- "I thought Jedi couldn't…"

Obi-Wan clears his throat, and suddenly he's the one looking unsettled. "Technically, the Code prohibits intimacy, attachment. It...says nothing about the act itself."

Oh. Oh.  

You're still staring at him, just completely dumbstruck, so the Jedi seems to decide to take it upon himself to continue talking and fill the space. "For most of us it ends with the same result, functionally, but. Technically." 

Maker, get it together. You feel like you're on a several second delay, having great difficulty processing this new information, let alone giving him the verbal response to it that he's clearly waiting for, now. "Have you--"

"Almost. Once. When I was a padawan myself. My master and I were stationed on Mandalore at the time, assigned to protect the Duchess." 

You're grinning, now, you can feel it tugging at the edges of your mouth. Maker, you suddenly need to know this story like you need to breathe. "What happened?"

Stars, you swear you can see the tips of his ears turn red. "Qui-Gon caught us. It has...certainly dissuaded me from making any attempts since."

You laugh. You can't help it. Suddenly you're laughing so hard it nearly hurts, grasping your middle with one hand while wiping tears from your eyes with the other. You would feel worse about it if Obi-Wan didn't look so amused himself. "Oh, you poor thing." you snort before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and you feel your own face heat when you realize the implication of what you've just said to him. Way to go, Ace. 

Except...he's still grinning at you, amusement dancing in those blue eyes, and all the air seems to rush out of the room when they lock on your own. Kriff. "Are you suggesting that I'm missing out, then?"

He's teasing you, the bastard, and all of sudden it makes you feel bold. You lean forward in your chair, then, resting your elbows on your knees as you encroach on his space and pull your lower lip between your teeth.. "I'm not suggesting anything, Master Kenobi," you all but purr at him, "but should you be interested in finding out for yourself…"

The offer hangs in the air between you, then, like a lit fuse while you just stare at each other, both waiting to see if the other will make the next move.  

"And what might this...demonstration...entail?"

"Nothing you aren't completely on board with," you tell him immediately, because if this happens--Maker, if--it is absolutely imperative to you that he enjoys himself just as much as you do. Which...gives you an idea, actually. "I make sure my partners have a good time. Haven't done my job if they don't."

Fuck, the Jedi's eyes are blown. His pupils have nearly overtaken those pretty blue irises and it makes your breath catch with how much you want to ruin him. You can feel the tension rising in the room between you, feeding on and feeding into your arousal in a vicious cycle. He swallows, and you watch his Adam's apple bob with it and narrowly resist the urge to bite him. "Oh?"

Kriff, you need to leave before you fuck him right here and ruin your plans. You give him a small, soft smile and stand, padding over to him. His eyes track each movement, his head tilting back to gaze up at you when you come to stand between his knees, and you can see how ragged his breathing's gone at the sudden proximity. You reach out and let your palm wrap around the line of his jaw, your fingernails scratching lightly through the coarse hairs of his beard, and the Jedi's eyes fall closed before you even lean in. He gasps when your mouth brushes against his own, the faintest whisper of a kiss, and your smile widens. "I think, that you deserve to be seduced properly, Obi-Wan," you breathe. "I'm not going to fuck you, Baby, not just yet. When you really want it--then I'll give it to you."

 It takes several seconds before he's able to get words out again, and when he does you can barely hear what he's saying from the rasp in them. "I think, my lady," he pants, "that you are being exceedingly cruel."

You chuckle softly, letting your thumb brush across his lower lip before you straighten up and take a step back, ignoring the almost whine that escapes his throat when you do. "Perhaps."

For the rest of the evening, you act as normal--as if none of the events of the day had taken place. You meet with Obi-Wan and escort him to the dining hall for dinner as usual and go your separate ways once your trays are piled high. You do your best to resist the urge to glare daggers at the other Jedi, particularly when he grins and waves at you, but you are able to content yourself with the sharp look Obi-Wan gives him for it as he sits down. Dinner is uneventful despite Skywalker's best efforts, and passes quickly. You give Obi-Wan this time to...come down, essentially, to gather his wits back about him before you really set your plans into motion in the morning. You had left the Jedi absolutely wrecked this afternoon, and not only do you think it would be just a little unfair to begin your seduction in such a state, you're a little concerned that you might actually kill him if you overwhelm him so much all at once. So, you give him time to breathe. 

Or at least, that is your intent. 

The sudden drop almost seems to have the opposite effect. Obi-Wan's composure is, outwardly, as impeccable as always. No-one but you and Skywalker--you're sure--would be able to tell that anything's up. The only reason you do is because you still can't take your eyes off him so you notice the way his haven't left you, either. And, Maker, the way he looks at you. You almost want to give in, drag him back to his rooms now, but. You meant it earlier, when you said you thought he deserved better than that. The concept of virginity as a special thing is not one you've ever particularly put much stock in, yourself, but you know that this is, will be, a big deal for him whether he's willing to admit it or not. You want to give him at least this much. He might not be allowed true intimacy or emotional attachment, but that doesn't mean the sex has to be careless. You meant it, when you told him that you take care of your partners.  

The next day, you start slow. Obi-Wan is actually fairly busy with the diplomatic mission he'd been sent here on in the first place, which makes that relatively simple. The only time you really get with him that morning is when you're escorting him to and from meetings, so you spend that time finding excuses to touch him. Subtle things, like adjusting already-straight the collar of his robes. 

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," 

The Jedi steps out into the hall with you and lets the door close behind him, returning your greeting with an easy grin that makes your heart skip a beat. "Good morning. Where are we off too?"

"You have a meeting with the Chancellor, first. It'll be long and likely boring assuming Skywalker behaves himself, but productive." You give him a soft smile, stepping forward and looking up at him from under your lashes. He watches you intently, almost seeming to stop breathing for a second when you reach up and adjust the tan collar of his robes, your fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of his throat when you do. You let the moment linger a second longer than it needs to before you step back to a respectful distance and nod down the hallway. "Shall we?"

Brushing his hair out of his face when it's fallen into his eyes.

Obi-Wan looks about as tired as you expect him to when he comes out of his meeting a couple of hours later but he has a small smile for you when he sees you waiting for him in the hallway anyway. Skywalker follows him through the door seconds later but barely pays either of you any mind, grumbling something about breakfast as he follows Kaljova down the hall. The two of you stand there for another moment, glancing at each other and chuckling at the younger Jedi's irritation, and you notice idly that some of his blond hair's managed to fall out of place. You reach up to brush it back out of his eyes and bite your lip when they zero in on your own, and you find yourself leaning in further before you can stop yourself only for you to jump apart when the door slides open again. The Chancellor gives you both a polite nod as he takes his leave, completely unaware of what he'd interrupted, and you have to shake your head to clear it once he's out of sight. You can still feel the Jedi's eyes on you when you turn to make your way to the dining hall.

It continues this way, more or less, until lunch, when you decide to kick it up a notch going into the afternoon. You remember what he told you about being able to pick up on your feelings, at least in a general sense, whether he went looking for them or not so you decide to lean into that and let your mind run wild with the things you want to do to him. You're careful not to project any particulars at him this time but you can tell that he definitely takes notice when you start letting your thoughts wander. 

You're still sitting in the dining hall at your separate tables, and you smirk lightly when his eyes snap up, watching them narrow when he realizes what you're doing. You maintain that eye contact shamelessly, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you try to imagine what's waiting for you underneath those robes. Skywalker's glancing back and forth between you and grinning but Obi-Wan ignores him completely, raising an eyebrow in your direction that you merely shrug at. You see him shift slightly in his seat after a little while of this and decide to lay off a bit--for now, at least. 

Obi-Wan has to consult with the Jedi Council after lunch so you decide to have some mercy on him immediately leading up to that and take a break from your little game. You're sure he's still aware of the arousal boiling low in your belly while you walk him back to his rooms after lunch but you're not actively focusing on it now, letting yourself relax and the Jedi by extension. 

It's during dinner that evening that you really kick it into high gear. 

You're not even fully sure this is going to work, since you've only ever done it once and by accident, but watching Obi-Wan converse with Skywalker at their table, you know you want to try. So you focus your attention on the Jedi, and hone in on the thought of what you think it might be like to kiss him until you see him stiffen and you know he's got it. You keep going, feeding him different images that only grow more explicit as you grow bolder. Sucking and biting bruises into the skin of his throat and chest while you grind down against his cock. Looking right into his pretty blue eyes while you stroke that cock, watching him come apart when you finally take it into your mouth like you've wanted to do practically since you laid eyes on him. Riding him, burying your hands in his hair and swallowing his moans while you bounce in his lap. 

Obi-Wan grits his teeth across the dining hall, gripping the edge of the table he's sitting at tightly and pointedly not looking at you while he tries to regain control of his breathing. Skywalker is staring at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed in total shock, and you only smirk back at him in response as you let the projection drop. You didn't necessarily want the other Jedi to see those things, truthfully, but you don't know how to control the projection well enough to block him out and he's been enough of a dick about the whole thing this week that you really don't feel all that badly about the fact that he looks like he kind of wants to bleach his brain, now. 

You simply go back to your meal once you've dropped the projection, though you can't help the small grin that stays plastered on your face. The next few minutes pass that way, but then.

But then.

Well, projection goes both ways.

It feels sort of like a tickle, at first, at the edge of your mind--easily ignored. Then it turns into a gentle prodding, and when you look up to confirm your suspicions, his blue eyes are locked firmly on yours and it takes your breath away. He's...being remarkably gentle with you, knowing that no-one's ever been in your head before like this, waiting for you to relax and let him in in a complete roll reversal that shocks you. You barely manage to contain the gasp when you do, because he's suddenly pushing images back at you. Obi-Wan thinks back to how your fingers had felt in his hair this morning, and then reimagines that feeling with you in his lap, tangled in his hair while you kiss him. Then, fuck. With his head between your thighs. He stops and focuses in on this one, imagining as many details as he can manage as he pushes it to you. Your hands pulling on the blond strands while his grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue laves through the folds of your cunt. 

The moment feels like a tipping point, and both of you know exactly what is going to happen once this meal is over. 

You're so pent up and aroused when it's finally time to leave that you're lightheaded with it but somehow you manage to get to your feet anyway, and thankfully you don't end up having to deal with Skywalker at all because Obi-Wan is out of his seat first this time and meets you halfway. There's something in the air between you, something tense and charged, and you know you need to get him back to his rooms now. He seems to be on the same page because he wastes no time in following you out of the dining hall, and his strides are longer enough than usual that you actually struggle just a little bit to keep up. 

And there's something so…juvenile about this, rushing off and sneaking around, but it's...fun. You feel almost like a teenager again, truthfully, so eager to get him alone somewhere private so you can get your hands on him that you're all but running down the hallway to get there. 

You're on the Jedi the moment the door closes behind you but he's right there with you, pulling you in for a kiss that's all enthusiasm and little finesse but heats your blood anyway. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you tug him closer and he moans with it, his own hands finding your face and framing it gently. You run the tip of your tongue along his lower lip and press forward when his mouth opens into it on a gasp, licking into his mouth until he has to pull away to breathe. 

Maker, he already looks a mess; beautifully flushed with his hair all askew and his pupils blown wide. It makes you want to do, just, unspeakable things, but you know you still have to take your time and ease him into it or this will all be over too fast and you can't have that.  

"Go...go sit on the bed," you murmur, putting a hand on his chest as you step back and take a second to try and get your wits back about you. "Take your boots off. And your cloak."

And, Kriff, he does it immediately, nodding at you with that just fucking wrecked look in his eyes before he turns to do exactly what you told him, laying his cloak over the back of one of the chairs and padding over to the bed where he sits on the edge before leaning over to take his boots off. You watch him the whole time, almost high on the heady feeling that comes with this hyper-competent Jedi Master doing whatever you tell him to. 

You take your time in joining him, partially to tease and partially just because you need those extra few moments. His eyes track every movement as you remove your own cloak, laying it next to his as you toe your shoes off, and you give him a small smile as you make your way over to the bed. Obi-Wan's breath hitches when you climb up onto it and seems to stop altogether when you carefully settle yourself on his lap, his hands fisting at his sides until you reach down to take them gently and guide them to your waist. "You can touch me," you purr, running your nose along the line of his jaw and grinning to yourself when his grip suddenly tightens with it. "It's encouraged, in fact."

He snorts quietly, so breathily that you almost miss it, and starts rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. "Noted," he rasps, and you grin wider before you press a kiss just under his jaw. The Jedi shivers with it and the reaction emboldens you so you continue downward, pressing kisses along his skin until you reach the collar of his robe and then you're working at the belt of his robes, eager to get at more of his skin. Obi-Wan seems to still have enough presence of mind to help you, shrugging out of the first two layers once you're able to get them open and discarding them to the side carelessly. You reluctantly have to pull back so you can yank his undershirt over his head but then his whole torso is exposed for your viewing pleasure, so you decide you're alright with the short interruption. 

"See something you like?" Obi-Wan quips breathlessly after a few seconds of you shamelessly studying every line and pane of his chest and you only smirk at him an answer, leaning back in his lap to get a better view and darting your tongue out to wet your lower lip. 

"What are the odds of anyone seeing you without the robes?"

His eyebrows knit together momentarily like he doesn't know what you're asking, but he seems to put the pieces together when you suddenly duck back down and lick a broad stripe along the line of his collarbone. His hips jerk up with a broken moan before he's able to manage an answer, his head tilting back and further exposing his throat. "Un-unlikely," he gasps out, and you're grinning again as you start pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses lower until you find a spot on his pec that pleases you and you stop and suck. The Jedi gasps raggedly, his fingers digging into your waist as he tries to ground himself, but you don't stop until you know a bruise will bloom there. "Something to remember you by?" he hisses, and you chuckle softly as you trace the round little blemish with the tip of your finger. 

"Oh, Baby, I don't think you're going to have any difficulty with that with or without a few little...reminders." 

Obi-Wan moans again, low in his throat, when you start pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest, gasping out and trembling the first time you let him feel teeth. His hips buck again and then it's your turn to gasp when his cock rubs right up against your cunt--already so, so hard. And, Maker, it is not a small bulge. What's he hiding under all of those neutral fabrics? You leave a meandering line of bites and hickeys all the way down his chest, ignoring the way he whines when you shift back off of his lap so you can continue down to his stomach. He leans back on his palms, then, watching you intently with dark eyes that make your pussy clench between your thighs, and his breath catches in his throat when your hands find the ties of his trousers. "What are you--"

"Told you I wanted to suck your cock," you remind him, biting your lip as you start undoing them--slowly enough to give him ample opportunity to stop you if he wants. "That alright with you?"

The Jedi nods mutely, suddenly seeming at a loss for words, and you smirk as you sit back on your knees and start pulling them down his thighs until he springs free, and--

Kriff--how fucking dare the Order deprive the galaxy of this magnificent cock? 

He's not the longest you've ever seen, per se, but he's thick enough that you almost wonder how you're going to take this thing and beautifully flushed, with defined veins that you just know are going to feel incredible inside you. You lean in to lick a stripe right up the underside of it before you can stop yourself and Obi-Wan cries out at the sudden stimulation and shakes, falling backwards onto his back. You moan softly at the response you pull out of him and lean up until you're able to take the head into your mouth, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut and grips the bedspread until his knuckles go white and unravels. "Watch me," you tell him, taking him in your palm and pumping slowly while you wait for him to respond, "Wanna see those pretty blue eyes."

He forces them open just like you told him to, keeping them trained on you as he bites down on his lower lip and takes a shaky breath and you take him into your mouth again, satisfied. He cries out again but a little quieter this time, and you hum around his cock as you start bobbing up and down on it slowly, almost teasingly so, holding his hips down as best you can so you control the pace. You definitely want to feel him come down the back of your throat at some point, but this isn't the time for that. You have every intent of him coming buried deep inside you tonight. 

It becomes something of a game, figuring out exactly what he likes. Hollowing your cheeks to make your mouth tighter around him and moaning until he gasps. Teasing the slit at the top with the very tip of your tongue until you swear you hear him curse. And then you take him to the root.

And, Maker, he swears when he bottoms out and it shouldn't be so insanely hot hearing those words come from this ordinarily so well put-together Jedi but it is. You realize how close he's approaching his end so you reluctantly pull off of his cock, then, ignoring the whine that escapes from high in his throat when you do so. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand while you try and catch your breath, which is not made any easier by the way he's looking at you. You know you must look just as wrecked as he does, now, all flushed skin and swollen lips, but if you didn't know better you would genuinely think the man was about to eat you alive. "I think, my lady," he rasps finally, after several seconds of staring at each other, "that you may be slightly overdressed."

Kriff. You glance down at the tunic and trousers that you are, in fact, still wearing, before looking up to meet his eyes again. You maintain that eye contact as you sit back up on your knees, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you slowly start undoing the laces holding the top closed. Obi-Wan watches each movement like it's the most mesmerizing thing he's ever seen, pupils blown so wide they've almost completely obscured the blue. He groans quietly when the tunic slips from your shoulders, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip when your breasts come into full view. "Is that better?"

He shakes his head mutely, swallowing harshly as he seems to try to gather the words. "I want--may I--kriff, lay back. Please." His gaze follows you closely as you slowly lower yourself down onto your elbows, intensely curious what he's about to do. The Jedi takes a deep breath like he's steeling himself and then he's shifting forward until his body stretches over top of yours, kicking his trousers the rest of the way off in the process, and it's your turn to gasp when you feel his lips brush against the underside of your jaw. He's holding himself up enough that you can't necessarily feel him press against you, but Maker, you can certainly feel the heat coming off of him and his warm breath against your throat. "I believe it's my turn," he murmurs by way of explanation, chuckling softly when your next breath comes out ragged.

"You don't--you don't have to do that," you moan, and Stars--you mean it, you do, especially this first time, but you will be just absolutely fucking inconsolable if he changes his mind right now especially after he went and put the fucking image in your head during dinner earlier. 

He doesn't grace that with a verbal response but you're hardly complaining because he starts trailing kisses down the side of your neck instead, and Maker he must have been paying attention when you were doing this to him because you swear he's replicating the technique. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs lowly into the skin of your throat before nipping at it experimentally, listening to you gasp as he keeps talking. "Tell me how to please you, Darling."

His fingers find your nipple before you're able to even begin trying to formulate words and you cry out at the sudden stimulation, arching up into it. "F-Fuck, you're doing a pretty kriffing decent job already," you pant and he chuckles again, running his tongue along your collarbone like you'd done to him and moaning when he gets another ragged gasp for it. "Maker.  U-Use your m-mouth,"

You think for a second that he's going to make some smartass comment about how he already is, but mercifully Obi-Wan seems to know what you're asking him for and decides to be kind about it. He continues exploring your breasts with his hand while he returns his mouth to your throat, licking and sucking his way down the column of it until he reaches your sternum where he stops to suck a bruise into the skin. He gets you so worked up by the time he reaches your breasts that you almost don't realize how close he's gotten until those blue eyes are flickering up to meet yours and he's taking your nipple into the blazing hot cavern of his mouth. You open your mouth on a wordless shout and start to writhe under him but he's right there, both hands coming down to your hips to hold you in place as he laves his tongue around the stiffening peak. Obi-Wan focuses his attention on your breast until you're whimpering and then switches to the other, moaning around your nipple when your fingers tangle in his hair. 

"You like that, don't you?" you purr down at him, watching the Jedi through half-lidded eyes as he moans again in an affirmative. You pull, then, gently--experimentally, seeing if it's something he'll even like, and then he. Fucking bites you. "Fuck, Obi-Wan!" 

"About as much as you liked that," the asshole grins at you impishly as he pulls away from your breast, leaning in to kiss you before you can call him on it. His hands find the top of your trousers once you relax into it, and he leans back to look at you as his fingers dip into the waistband. "May I?"

He starts pulling them down as soon as you nod your consent, sitting back and watching as every inch of skin is revealed until he's removed them completely and he tosses them to the side with the rest of your clothes, leaving you totally bare in front of him. Obi-Wan just...sits there for a moment, taking you in, and you let him, relaxing back against the mattress and smiling up at him. 

"Beautiful," he breathes finally, returning your smile with a small one of his own before he's shifting down, keeping his eyes on yours as his lips brush against your hip. He reaches forward and runs one finger through the lips of your cunt lightly, almost teasingly, watching you gasp and try to grind down into it. "Would you like it if I tasted you here, Darling?" Obi-Wan hums, continuing to press kisses along your hip and the insides of your thighs while he waits for an answer and, Maker, the coarseness of his beard against the sensitive skin there robs you of all conscious thought. All you're able to manage is a nod because you're so strung out and you need him there right now but that seems to be enough for him because he starts leaning in, one hand on each of your thighs as he licks a broad stripe right through your cunt. 

Stars, you can't even form the words right now to talk him through this like he'd asked, but he...doesn't actually really seem to need your help, here. The Jedi focuses in on your clit right away, swirling his tongue around the little bud before he sucks it into the wet heat of his mouth and you nearly sob at how good it feels. "D-Doing so good, Baby," you manage to get out, and the words almost come out as more of a mewl as he hums around your clit, sending jolts right through you. 

You whine in protest when his mouth leaves your clit but his thumb replaces it soon after, rubbing slow circles around it like he's trying to drive you insane on purpose. And then, Maker, his tongue dips into your entrance, licking up inside you while all you can do is sob your pleasure into the air. He keeps going this way for several minutes, steadily working you higher and higher with his tongue buried in your cunt and his thumb strumming your clit until your thighs start to tremble and you feel that coil inside you start to wind tighter. Obi-Wan moans between your legs as when he realizes you're approaching your end and steps up his ministrations, his thumb picking up speed until your back arches underneath him. The orgasm burns its way through you, slow but intense, until you're nearly cross-eyed and delirious with it and he keeps working you through it until you're shaking with overstimulation and pushing his head away. 

The Jedi goes willingly when you push him back into a seated position once you've managed to regain your bearings, and Maker, he's a sight like this; his hair just hopelessly disheveled from your fingers in it and your slick coating his chin and kiss-swollen lips. You take a moment to just look at him, committing this image to memory for all of those nights after he leaves when you know you'll look back and picture this with your hand between your thighs. His hands find your hips as you crawl into his lap and settle there, squeezing gently and letting out a soft moan when you lean in to kiss him. Obi-Wan is the one that licks into your mouth this time, mimicking the way your tongue had tangled with his at the start of this until you're moaning into it. 

He gasps into the kiss when you reach down between you to take his cock in your hand, stroking it slowly while you shift in his lap and Stars, you swear the Jedi underneath you stops breathing entirely when you line him up and the head of his cock presses right up against your entrance. "Maker, please," he begs then on a broken moan, pulling out of the kiss to catch his breath but leaving his forehead pressed up against yours. He opens his eyes to hold your gaze intently as you start to sink down onto him, crying out at the fucking stretch of it. You take your time taking his cock, both for his benefit and your own, and the slow intrusion into your cunt has you shaking before he even bottoms out. 

"Fuck, you feel so f-fucking good," 

And it does. You have to take a minute to adjust once you've taken him to the root before you can move, gripping his shoulders tightly in an attempt to ground yourself, and his hands tighten on your hips in response. The Jedi looks like he might implode if you don't move so you take pity on him, sweeping him into another heated kiss as you roll your hips forward and swallowing his ragged gasp that escapes his throat. You keep the pace slow at first, steady, working yourself open and easing him into the motion and the way your pussy feels wrapped around his cock, and you manage to keep that pace for a few minutes until it becomes too much for both of you.

Obi-Wan's hips buck up at the same time your hips rock forward and you choke on a loud cry, throwing your head back when the head of his cock suddenly hits you right in the sweet spot. He seems to realize that you liked it because he does it again and again, his hands suddenly becoming vices around your hips as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep bouncing in his lap as best you can with his hold on you, meeting him thrust for thrust and Maker, nothing you'd imagined has anything on this. You bury your face in the side of his neck in a pitiful attempt to muffle the sounds that are leaving your throat, sucking and biting at the skin you find there and enjoying the moans you get out of him in return.  

You suddenly find yourself on your back with the Jedi above you, swallowing down the gasp that tears out of you as he claims your mouth in a searing kiss. Obi-Wan starts thrusting again immediately as he lets instinct take over, leaning forward on his elbow next to your head to give him better leverage. You nibble on his lower lip as you bring your legs up around his waist, gasping into his mouth when he fucking growls at the feel of your teeth and knotting your fingers in the strands of his hair again. His free hand comes up to cup the side of your face, holding you in place while he kisses the breath from your lungs. 

You're not going to last much longer, if the way your cunt is already starting to tighten around him is anything to go by. He shifts his hips just slightly, down and to the side, and you almost scream when he manages to find an angle that has the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot straight on at the same time as the warm skin of his torso brushes against your clit on each thrust in. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he get the hang of this so fast? He's going to kriffing kill you, if he keeps this up. "Stars, Obi," you sob out, "I'm gonna--"

The Jedi presses one last firm kiss to your mouth before he's pulling back to watch you fall apart, his hand leaving your face and moving down your body until he's stroking your aching clit with his thumb again, rubbing it in fast, small circles like he's learned you like it as he continues fucking into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. "Right behind you, Darling," he grits out, his voice coming strained and wrecked and you know he means it. It only takes one, two, three more thrusts before you just fucking shatter, crying out into the air and trembling as the orgasm obliterates you. He follows not half a dozen thrusts later, burying his face in your neck and gasping as he fills you with everything he has, his hips still pumping lazily as he comes down. 

Eventually, the Jedi collapses down on the bed next to you, reaching over to brush some of the hair out of your face and giving you a dopey grin that's such a wild juxtaposition from his usual composure and his reputation that it makes you giggle, unable to help yourself. He raises an eyebrow at you playfully but it only makes you laugh harder, shaking your head. "Maker," you breathe, finally, because you can't seem to string together anything else. Obi-Wan chuckles next to you and reaches over to pull you back into his chest, burying his face in your hair while he tries to catch his own breath. "You are...a very quick study. Maker."

You can't see him grin, but you can hear it in his voice when he speaks again. "I'm glad you're pleased," he teases, and you only roll your eyes before letting yourself fully relax against him. Your eyes start to droop but you don't have the energy to fight to keep them open, and you end up falling asleep right there in his arms.

He lets you.

You wake up the next morning almost unbearably warm, and when you go to try and sit up, you find that you can't. You freeze as a half-baked realization suddenly comes over you, hesitantly cracking your eyes open.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Oh, kriff. 

You fell asleep here last night. In the Jedi's bed. With the Jedi. He, it turns out, is the reason that you can't move. Obi-Wan's got both arms wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you against his chest with his legs tangled up with yours, and Maker you would never have pegged this man for a cuddler but you couldn't be more wrong, apparently. It does, however, create quite an interesting problem for you.

This is his last morning here before he leaves to return to Coruscant. He and Skywalker are supposed to leave early, before even breakfast. Skywalker will, doubtlessly, be coming around to see what's what's holding his old master up, and soon--and you are still here. 

Where you are. Definitely. Not supposed to be.

You don't know how much time you have but you know that it isn't much. You have got to get out of here before Obi-Wan's pain in the ass prior padawan shows up, and the Jedi looks so peaceful like this that you kind of wish you could just let him sleep but you really don't want to just sneak out on him after last night. So you sigh, reaching up to shake his shoulder gently. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, we have to get up."

It doesn't take much to wake him, thankfully, and he lets go of you to prop himself up on his elbow as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep as he peers down at you, not quite as surprised to see you there as you'd have maybe expected him to be. 

You don't even get a chance to answer him because there's suddenly a knock on the door, and both of your eyes widen at it. Skywalker. "Obi-Wan?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck are your clothes? You're out of the bed before Obi-Wan even has a chance to stop you, frantically trying to find your clothes and put them on. You toss his trousers at his chest when you come across them and that seems to be what finally spurs him into motion, standing up so he can get them on as he calls back to the other Jedi. "What is it, Anakin?"

There's a moment of confused silence, then: "Cody's landing the transport now."

Obi-Wan opens his mouth like he's about to tell his old padawan that he'll be out momentarily, but doesn't get a chance to get the actual words out before you both hear the hiss of the door starting to slide open. Thank the Maker, you just manage to get your tunic back on before Skywalker comes into sight, and you do your best to try to look fucking normal as his eyes flicker between you but your heart fucking stops when you glance to the left of you and realize that Obi-Wan still isn't wearing a fucking shirt. His entire chest is exposed, which means that all of the marks you left scattered across it are also exposed. Fuck, fuck, fuck--

"I'll just. I'll just see you on the transport."

Skywalker is gone before either of you can react, the door sliding shut behind him. Your next breath leaves your lungs with enough force that it's almost a wheeze, and you have to bend over and put your hands on your knees for a second while you try to process what the fuck just happened. Obi-Wan blinks next to you, looking directly ahead for a second or two more before he suddenly starts chuckling, and you stare at him incredulously. "I'm sorry," he says finally, "That was just…"

You're laughing too, then, shaking your head as you step back over to him, ducking down to grab his shirt from where you can see it on the floor. You place the fabric in his hands and lean up on your toes to press a light kiss to his cheek, giving him a small smile. "Until next time, Master Kenobi?"

He gives you a small smile in return, and surprises you a little bit when he leans in himself and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "Until next time."

Mercifully, no-one questions him when Obi-Wan finally makes it to the transport. He intentionally doesn't look at Anakin even though he can feel the other man's eyes on him as he finds his seat and sits down, straightening his robes. He finds it difficult to keep the smile completely off his face so he just ducks his head instead in the guise of settling in for the flight and studiously ignores the way Anakin is still staring at him. 

"How was your trip, General?" Cody asks, leaning around in the pilot's seat to look back at him once they've left the planet's atmosphere. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to answer but Anakin's there first, suddenly grinning ear-to-ear in a way that makes him distinctly uncomfortable. 

"Oh, the General had a wonderful time." the younger man drawls, looking him right in the eyes as he does, and Obi-Wan wonders not for the first time if Qui-Gon died and left Anakin in his care as some inhumane form of punishment. "Made significant strides with relations and learned a lot, I'm sure."

"Oh, well, that's good, Sir." Cody responds, and Obi-Wan really dearly hopes he's as unaware of the insinuation as he sounds. Cody really does not need to know these things. Anakin does not need to know these things. "I'm glad your mission was productive."

Anakin opens his mouth like he's going to say something else but closes it abruptly and grins instead when Obi-Wan glares at him and shakes his head slowly in warning. "Thank you, Cody." Obi-Wan says instead, leaning back in his seat and letting his eyes close as he tries to relax. Maker, he can still feel the effects of the night before, his muscles are more sore than he would have expected and he finds that he's very aware of the bruises you'd left behind and it's...strangely pleasant. 

He's not allowed to have emotional attachments, but. He kind of does hope that he'll see you again one day anyway. Until next time, Master Kenobi. 

[goodfemalecharacters]

because there’s nothing I do better than spite-write.  an AU where Sam and Eileen meet in 2002, when Sam is at Stanford.  1k.

Eileen doesn’t expect to see anyone in the library this early.  Don’t college kids have hangovers to sleep off on Saturday mornings?  And yet, she’s not alone in the stacks.

The kid in question is probably her age, maybe a year or two older, and he keeps staring at her when he thinks Eileen isn’t paying attention.  It’s annoying because the back of her neck won’t stop pricking, even though she knows some snooty rich Stanford student is hardly a threat.  Not for a seasoned hunter, anyway.  And no matter what Lillian had to say on the subject, Eileen is plenty seasoned.

It’s getting really hard to concentrate with the kid’s eyes on the back of her head.  It doesn’t help that he’s kind of cute in a floppy, puppy-ish sort of way.  He’s probably never worked a day in his life.  He has a stack of books next to him that’s nearly as tall as he is sitting down, which is really saying something.  Surely he doesn’t need that many.

Eileen rolls her eyes and returns to her book.  It’s in Greek, and she hates trying to read Greek.  Latin, she can handle, but Greek drives her up a wall.

The kid wanders behind her, ostensibly to run his fingers over the books on the shelf next to her, but Eileen can feel his eyes on the back of her head and then on her notes.  She fights back the urge to scoff.

“See something you like?” she snaps at last, whipping around to face him.

She very nearly smacks face-first into his chest because he’s standing almost directly behind her.  The kid takes a half step back, his shoulders colliding with the bookshelf.  He’s really a deer in the headlights, and for a second, Eileen almost feels bad.

“Um.  Sorry.” 

He puts his hand on his chest and moves it, counter-clockwise.  Eileen can’t stop herself from smiling.  He smiles, too, broad and dimpled.

“Actually, it’s the other way.”

He corrects it instantly. “Sorry.  I took a class last semester, but I didn’t have room in my schedule for the follow-up.”

“Most people don’t know any,” Eileen says with a shrug. 

It’s rare to find someone who bothers.  There’s Lillian, obviously.  But even she gets frustrated sometimes.  A few months ago, she’d made Eileen lookout on a hunt, and the ghost—identifiable to Lillian through its moaning—had turned out to be invisible.  Eileen had noticed it eventually, thanks to the dust on a bookshelf moving in a gust of wind, but it had been too late.  

(Eileen forcibly shakes off the memory of Lillian screaming loudly enough to shake the floorboards as Eileen stitched up her arm with shaking hands.)

“They should,” he says, awkwardly.

A smile tugs on the corner of Eileen’s mouth. “Yeah.  They should.”

The kid sticks out his hand.  Eileen hesitates for a brief second before taking it.  There’s a faint memory of calluses on his palms, which takes her by surprise.  She schools her expression back into something neutral by the time he meets her eyes again.

“I’m Sam.”

“Eileen.  Did nobody ever teach you staring is rude?”

He releases her hand so he can put both of his in the air defensively. “Sorry.  That’s usually my spot.  I’m not used to seeing other people up here, especially this early on a Saturday.” 

She raises her eyebrows. “You usually sit in the mythology section?”

“It’s quiet.  Besides, I’ve always sort of been interested in that sort of stuff,” Sam says with a shrug. “Classics major?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” It explains the Greek, anyway. “Big classics fan.”

It’s not like it’s against the rules for a member of the general public to be in this library.  But it would definitely raise more questions if Sam discovered that she wasn’t a student.  Stanford is a big enough school, even if Eileen’s too-big canvas jacket and mud-caked boots make her stick out like a sore thumb.

“I think I’m gonna be pre-law, but I’m a freshman, so I’m undecided so far.  There are too many interesting classes to take to commit yet.”

He takes the opportunity to lean over her shoulder again.  Eileen lets him.  It’s not like he’s going to be able to understand much of it anyway.  He smells like cheap shampoo, the kind that Lillian snags from the few motels they stay in that provide it.

“The word you’re missing there is ‘minotaur,’ I think,” he says, brow furrowed. 

Eileen looks down at it again. “What makes you say that?”

Sam shrugs. “Sometimes these things can be really metaphorical.  The more direct translation is labyrinth-dweller.  The most famous thing I can think of that lived in a labyrinth was—”

“Minos’ minotaur,” Eileen finishes, jotting it down. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”

The first vic had been stabbed in the stomach.  They’d been thinking that it had been a weapon, but what if it had been a horn?  

When she looks up, Sam is all dimples again.  She smiles back.  It feels like when she and Lillian reach a conclusion at the same time, but better, because Sam hasn’t snapped at her about finding the answer quicker.

“Wait.  You can read Greek?”

Sam nods. “A little.”

Knowing the word ‘labyrinth’ in Greek is more than a little, but Eileen doesn’t say so.  For the first time, she notices a certain thinness to his cheeks, and a certain nervousness to the way his eyes dart around the room.

He didn’t have enough to eat as a kid, he’s assessing exits like his life depends on it, and he knows Greek off the top of his head.  Eileen wonders if he has a knife in the pocket of that big brown hoodie to match hers.

For a crazy, wild moment, she considers asking him.  Then, she crashes back down to reality.  If she and Lillian don’t get a move on, the Minotaur is going to strike again.  She can’t let an innocent person die because she’s too busy flirting.

“Thanks,” she says, gathering her papers together. “That was the last piece I needed.”

The papers crumple together in her duffle bag.  Eileen usually likes to keep her research tidy, but her last file folder ripped a week and a half ago, and they’ve been too busy to replace them.  She shoves the book in, too.  She’ll jog out of the library if the little alarm sounds.  Lillian prefers it when she can see the research firsthand.

“Oh.  You’re welcome.” Sam smiles. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Another smile creeps up on her face before she catches it. “Why?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to talk Greek mythology with someone who knows their stuff,” Sam jokes.  Then, “Plus, I just earned my first free coffee at the shop down the street.”

Eileen feels a ‘yes’ at the tip of her tongue, but she forces it back.  She scrambles to think of a plausible excuse instead.

“Can’t.  I’ve got a study session.  I’d love to, though.”

His face falls, but he recovers pretty quickly. “Maybe another time.  Here.”

Sam hurries back over to his own table and pulls a piece of paper out of his notebook.  Eileen stands, hauling her duffle over her shoulder.  He nearly knocks over his stack of books in his haste.

“My number.  For when you’re free to talk about King Minos,” he says, holding it over.

Eileen folds it carefully and places it in her pocket. “Thanks, Sam.  Really.”

He signs ‘thank you,’ back to her, even though it doesn’t really fit.  Eileen hasn’t smiled this much in so long.  Her cheeks hurt.  She feels Sam’s eyes on the back of her head until she’s out of his sight, and she’s red to the tips of her ears.

Twelve hours later, once Lillian and Eileen have killed the Minotaur, Eileen takes the little scrap of paper and lets it flutter on to the floor next to its bloody corpse.  If Sam has really gotten out of this life, she’s not going to be the one to drag him back in.

No matter how nice his smile is.

(thanks to @uglyorangejacket for being so excited <3)

[ragingbookdragon]

A Christmas Recollection

A Shay Cormac x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1K Warnings: None

Author’s Note: And here we are with Day 6! Another one! This one has a bit of a supernatural theme. Enjoy! -Thorne

            She couldn’t help the small smile that came across her features as she watched Haytham grin and laugh unabashedly with Gist and the other Templars. It made her heart warm that he could still find joy in his life, even if it was simply laughter; he seemed to lighten a bit during the holidays, such a stark difference from his usual stoicism.

            His life had been so harsh. A path paved with lies, his mistrust forged from treachery, a heart and soul scarred relentlessly by life. She wanted it to be different from Edward’s fate, but something told her that in the end, it wouldn’t be. Perhaps she’d been alive so long to be able to foresee such things. Though the smile still stayed on her lips, her eyes held an unfathomable sadness for the man—so many decades had passed and yet he still seemed the small, ten-year-old boy, crying outside Queen Anne’s Square.

           “I hope you’re not makin’ eyes at out Grandmaster, (Y/N).” a voice rumbled in her ear. “Might break my heart.”

           She snorted, glancing down at Shay. “Oh please, Cormac. You have to have a heart for that to work.” She shot back, twirling her fingers in his hair tie.

           Shay pressed a hand to his chest with mock hurt. “Tryin’ to hurt my feelings love?” His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer on his lap. “Doin’ a good job.”

           (Y/N) chuckled and leaned back against him, pressing her temple to his. “Like you’re not a glutton for my punishments.”

           He snorted into his beer, setting it down to wipe his face with his sleeve. “Love, we’re in public.”

           “Like that’s ever stopped you before, Shay.” She countered, then let out a sigh, shutting her eyes for a moment.

           “Tired?” he asked, fingers kneading into the flesh at her hip.

           “A bit.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and looked back at Haytham, murmuring, “I’m glad he’s feeling good tonight. I’ve been worried about him.”

           “This isn’t exactly the type of thing a man wants to hear his lover talking about.” Shay griped, then muttered, “Especially about another man.” His voice lowered with each word. “Who’s better…in every way…with that stupid voice and face…and skill…and title…”

           “Jealous much, darling?” Shay grumbled quietly to himself and she laughed. He could feel it through his chest, the way her shoulders shook with such hilarity. “Shay, Haytham is special to me, but not in the way you’re…so adamantly concerning yourself about.”

           “And what way is that?” he coaxed, coffee eyes fixed intently on her.

           (Y/N) was quiet for a moment, then she looked back at Haytham, “He looks so much like Edward did when he was a younger man, except with dark hair and gunmetal eyes. Damned if they don’t act alike, especially with that hotheaded, Kenway Temper.”

           Shay cocked a dark brow. “You knew Master Kenway when you and Master Haytham were children? I wasn’t aware you grew up with him.”

           Her eyes drifted to his. “I never said I was a child when Haytham was.” The Irishman’s eyes went wide but she paid no mind. “Now Edward, on the hand had dirty blond hair and his eyes were the prettiest aquamarine. Like the water at the beaches in Florida and the Caribbean.”

          (Y/N) drew her hand down her cheek. “His cheeks were a bit more gaunter than Haytham’s are. Always were, even into his later life. Ah, but that strong nose, jaw, and mouth. That’s all the same. He’s a spitting image of the old man.”

           She let out a heavier sigh. “I miss Edward from time to time. He was a good man. A good father. Made mistakes but did better.” (Y/N) frowned. “He did all he could that night to save them and I wasn’t there to save him.” If her lips could’ve deepened more, they would’ve. “It is a regret I live with every day of this long life.”

           Shay couldn’t seem to speak. Stunned at how knowledgeable she seemed on Haytham’s family. “How—” he started, falling silent when her eyes met his.

           “How?” she repeated, the answer to his question waiting in her eyes before he’d even asked.

           “How do you remember Edward as a young man? How do you even remember him as a father? That was…decades ago? At least two and a half since he was murdered. You…you would’ve been a child then.” He shook his head. “You had to.”

           (Y/N) scoffed but it was heatless. “Shay, are you assuming I’m older than I’ve led you to believe.”

           He stared at her. “Yes.” He deadpanned.

           She hummed. “You’d assume correct.” Her eyes drifted back to Haytham. “Altaïr and Ezio’s children were rather difficult to raise. As were the Master Assassins themselves.” Her eyes shown with humor. “Altaïr had his arrogance and Ezio had his charm. In the end, it was my honor to recognize them as the greatest mentors history has ever seen.”

           Shay felt his tongue grow dry and heavy in his mouth, suddenly seeing the woman in his lap as a lot more mysterious and powerful than he’d originally assumed.

           “You’re…immortal?” he whispered.

           Her eyes narrowed. “Well, I haven’t died yet, so it would seem.” (Y/N) took a deep breath. “I’ve learned that my role in this life is to see this lineage continue.” She nodded at Haytham. “When his children enter the painting, I will protect them as I have them all.”

           “I…I don’t even know…what to say.” Shay admitted, thousands of thoughts running through his mind.

           (Y/N) cupped his cheek, thumbing under his eyes as she tilted his face up. “You don’t have to say anything.”

           “But we—you—me—”

           She smiled, moving her thumb over his lips to close them. “What we are is merely a passing in time, Shay.”

           His features contorted with despondency and she murmured, “But let us enjoy that passing and all it will give to us before we must part.”

           Shay inhaled deeply then nodded, gazing at her. “Aye…let’s.”