#never quite being able to remember her face or even who exactly she was to him . like he sees how they interact in his memory but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluexiao · 1 year

Text

#his secret lover

— just a series where you are their secret lover… but you didn’t know because you weren’t from teyvat after all! (until you have memories of him and you every time you two touch)

CHARACTERS. self aware! Isekai! gn! Reader; Al-Haitham, Heizou, Tighnari, Scaramouche / Wanderer

THEMES. light sagau (self aware genshin au), isekai, fluff/crack, questionable but real established relationship, suggestive (light and in a few of them…), domestic (kind of inspired by several manhwas lmao), light angst on Tighnari’s??

NOTES. I planned for this to be a series so yep if there is anyone else you want me to cover, just hmu.

SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

You have to give him all the props, he had hidden you quite well.

Even as he was a Fatui Harbinger of a high enough ranking–for others, he was able to keep your identity a secret. Thus, the moment you opened your eyes and found yourself in the land of Teyvat without even knowing, you didn’t know about this.

Being transported to Inazuma was one thing that did take you a whileto notice until you came face to face with the tracks to Mt. Yougou and officially got to know a Yae Miko–an individual everyone seemed to have great respect for and the fox ears and tail were ones you have never seen in a person ever–at least not one that looked so real and looked exactly like a character in a game you’ve played in!

What Yae Miko and you talked about came in a blur because you were too much in your head, thinking about how everything suddenly made sense but didn’t at the same time. Yet you did uncover something in your identity in such a small conversation–it was that she knew you. Very well, that is. You felt that it was weird for her to suddenly come up and talk to you all of a sudden, all the more when she asked how you and your lover were–you almost let out a “Who in the world is my lover-Wait, I have one?!” but you managed to shut yourself up and said that you two were doing alright. Biggest mistake of your life.

The moment you saw Scaramouche, you didn’t even recognize him. He wore such different clothes that you barely had the time to stare and get a grip, not until he was right in front of you–actually, he marched right in front of you.

“Wash that stupid look on your face, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

For a moment, you were dumbfounded over the fact that he looked exactly like Scaramouche but not at all–was it the clothes? Or was it the soft look on his face that he kept on for a few seconds until he wipes it off—and you didn’t even have much time to respond before he adds on.

“And that fox is acting weirdly, did you say anything to her? Don’t tell me you slipped up and told her that you’re seeing me,” he sends you a look and your mind goes in spirals all the more.

You’re seeing who now?!

Seeing as you haven’t answered him yet and you were merely staring at him, this time, a different expression comes across his face, disappearing as fast as it had appeared.

“What in the world has gotten into you?” his voice turns softer this time, “is something wrong?”

He will actually end up pulling you aside and interrogating you for what had happened. That is! Until you remembered everything! The moment he held your hand, every single memory you have had with him came rushing in and you became dizzy that he will suddenly decide to just take you home.

You now came to recall everything that had occurred and everything fell into place, only now, you had memories of your memories in your real life–or was it really real??—back on Earth whilst having memories of your life in Teyvat. You remember receiving secret letters from Scaramouche and hearing all about his plans, and it momentarily stopped only to receive one yesterday, stating that he would come back home finally.

You still weren’t sure if you would tell him this is a game… but what is the use though? You haven’t gone through this timeline as well…

“Kuni… I lived two lives.” For some reason, it didn’t sit well for you to keep anything from him–it seems so wrong, so…weird. A month ago, he was just a character in a game you were playing for quite some time and now, he was here, right in front of you.

His lips were on your cheek as he takes a breath and the air hits your skin, tickling you ever so slightly.

“Is that so?” you couldn’t tell if he was taking you seriously or not, even more so when you felt him encircle his hands on your waist and pull you closer to his face, where you could meet his eyes that narrowed and the corners of his lips quirk up, “then have you kissed someone else in your other life? Other than me?”

You heard the slight pause in between his questions and felt him lean closer to you. “Do they kiss you as good as I do?”

Actually, he meant to ask if you loved someone else other than him or not, but no, he can’t let you think of someone else when you have him right beside you. And besides… if you had another life, then that means he has nothing to worry about in this life… right?

That thought haunts him every night.

AL-HAITHAM

Being in a relationship with The Scribe is a big thing already. And all the more so with a person like him.

After all, it is not so much of a secret that he does bear a good appearance, albeit his personality, he was someone who was particularly popular to ladies and men alike. Maybe for different reasons but most were the same.

For you, one look at him and you could tell that everyone was right–he really was attractive, but no one would have the guts to come near him with his presence alone. You were only getting used to being transported into this world when you came across the Akademiya and he so suddenly passed by you. You couldn’t stop yourself from admitting that eye contact with him sent shivers down your spine and made you momentarily freeze in place. Even more so when he oh-so conveniently greeted you with a small smirk.

“Good morning, Y/n,” it was a ghost of a smile–it almost seemed like it was just a sight only for you.

Only, it was the truth, and you found out about it when you opened the door to your “home” and saw the face of the person that almost made you have a heart attack just moments ago.

“Oh-I mean, hi! Uhm-” you struggled to formulate anything else from your mouth that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. You wanted to ask him why he was at your door when he chuckled right at you. When you openly stared at him, however, you could see his brow suddenly raise in confusion.

“Y/n… as far as I like the attention and seeing your flustered face, I am not that much interested in holding a staring contest against you at the door to our home,” he clearly was caught off guard as he clears his throat and looks away, “your home… pardon me for forgetting.”

He will definitely feel like something had happened to make you act quite weirdly, but he would not come up with a conclusion so suddenly, however, as he is beginning to gather up his observations, you eventually return back to “normal”, where you don’t freeze up whenever he shows up in front of you, or whenever he tries to lean in for a kiss, or any other physical intimacy that you seem to stutter about.

Actually, for him, it did feel like you were back in your past self–easily getting flustered or embarrassed. For you, though, the memories that the “Teyvat You” had accumulated slowly but surely came to you each day you spent with Al-Haitham, almost too calculative that you felt like everything that had happened seemed to be much more real than the “Earth You”.

And because of this, you begin to open up to your lover about your experience and decided to ask for his opinion. With all the time you had spent with him, you became much more comfortable with having to talk to him without stuttering and enough for you to tell the truth of your identity–but not enough to tell him that this world is merely inside a game. Fortunately, he would not be able to figure this out as this is something very unpresidential.

“Are you saying that another soul… but it’s still you… entered this body, and now you have memories of you here, as well as you back in your world,” he did not seem to end it in a question, more like a demand for you to tell him more or for you to explain it to him clearly without having a hard time to do so yourself–he could not really blame you… it is not such a “normal” occurrence that even he wouldn’t be able to explain himself if it had happened to him, not that he would be as inaccurate as you are.

He does try to help you uncover the truth and adjust well! After all, he is quite thirsty for knowledge (as much as you were to hi-) and there would be no things left unturned, especially considering that it was about you.

He does find it odd whenever you do a couple of things that you did not use to do—such as say a couple of words that are not in Teyvat’s vocabulary, from what he knows of—but he eventually grows accustomed to them, just as quick as you become accustomed to this “new life”—or it wasn’t really.

He does ask you a couple of questions (a LOT) about how your life was in the other world. You tell him of all the technologies and inventions you came to know and well you should not be that much surprised if he ends up covering them for his research or whatever. So do make sure to keep some of that knowledge to yourself!

TIGHNARI

The moment you wake, you found yourself lying in the middle of the forest, all alone, yet surrounded by mushrooms that you knew for sure you had never seen before.

They had brighter shades, compared to the ones you normally eat, which means-

“Are they poisonous? Or worse…” you mutter to yourself, horrified as you look at each of the mushrooms. Then everything turns black.

When you wake again, you were greeted by a different view–a hut, precisely… or it seems like it. You had a familiar feeling set in once you looked around you, however, but as soon as you heard the slightest bit of movement, you instinctively closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep.

“No point trying to act like you’re still unconscious, Y/n, you may open your eyes.”

The voice—it felt too familiar that even if you wanted to pretend a little bit more, you couldn’t help but be curious–why was it even familiar when-

Your jaw fell and your mouth hang open as soon as you came face to face with him–a man with long ears (fox ears? What are they-A fennec? Why does he look like… someone…) and his sense of fashion being… quite an eh-

“Huh? What is it? Is there something on my face?”

Now that you had heard his voice again, you came to realize that he does sound like the same person he looks very much alike to–Tighnari from that game you’ve played.

What in the-

“I must be dreaming right now, aren’t I?”

He sends a look at you and with crossed arms, says, “If you were, I can say I’m quite flattered to have you dream about me, but you are not dreaming so my gratitude is rather useless.”

And as he casually tries to check your temperature and your vitals, his touch makes you jump with a sudden “memory” that you two apparently had… of the times he took care of you after you appear to have been either injured or came across some weird mushrooms–which also seems to be the case this time around.

“What is it? Did it hurt when I touched you?” He does notice this and does not hesitate to ask you, but with all that was happening, you failed to notice the concerned look in his eyes but it did not stop the pressure that was building in your chest—so you lied. “No… I’m fine, just a bit jumpy… ‘s all.”

He may raise a brow at this but he brushes it off, and in the end, you might not be able to say the truth to him because… well, you didn’t have a chance! Every time you try to do so, it’s either he holds your hand or you hold his and a memory pops up and everything in your plan gets messed up!

He’s sort of a physical lover. You wouldn’t be able to believe it either, especially since you didn’t really know much about him until you came here and realized that it actually makes a lot of sense for him to be so.

He initiates a lot of it too! So much so that whenever you feel his tail wrap around your arm or your waist or him trying to request of you to pet his ears… you feel a little guilty somehow.

In the end, you were keeping something from him… and you still haven’t told it yet.

HEIZOU

You had just woken up and minutes later, you were stuck in a rather… awkward conversation.

“Are you saying… I’m in Teyvat?! And you’re Heizou?!”

The boy in front of you has a furrowed brow as he crosses his arms over your chest, “Hm? Where else should you be except for here? Right beside me?” he grins at the momentary victory of having to come up with a way to try and fluster you, but apparently, this time, it wasn’t working.

He, above most of the others, would figure it out immediately–well, not the entire story, no. He will be able to deduce that you must hae forgotten a piece or two (or maybe even all) of your memory and in turn, makes you very confused as to where you were and who is he–I mean, how could you even forget who he is? He courted you for so long and now he will have to go through that all over again?

You don’t remember everything as fast as his interrogation skills, however, and he will begin to question you before you even get to have your “memories” back, and when you do, you were already finished telling him of your life back in Earth and it seems you might have slipped that Teyvat is inside a game called Genshin Impact, which is how Heizou came into the conclusion of the truth.

You really wouldn’t be able to hide anything from this man because he knows his way around interrogation that even if you try to lie, it will only be for your demise. Well, it does seem like he wasn’t taking you seriously, but hey, at least he wasn’t being awkward about it now… or maybe he’s just REALLY not taking you seriously.

Anyway, it was a kiss that eventually makes you remember—not everything, but at least something.

“This is not gonna do… you act, speak, and look exactly like Y/n, and yet-“

“But my name is really Y/n! And… I think I remember something.”

“So you were able to recall something after our lips touched,” he brings a hand on his chin, contemplating, as you feel your face heat up.

“If you put it that way…”

“Then should we do it more? Kissing, I mean.”

“Sure, I-wait… what?”

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

taglist on the reblogs!

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #heizou x reader #tighnari x reader #genshin fluff #genshin sagau #sagau scaramouche #sagau heizou #sagau alhaitham #sagau tighnari

5K notes · View notes

teastyun · 4 months

Text

࿐ྂ edge's hatred

NSFW! mdni

after a hard week of patrolling and going on missions, you're finally able to take a night off with your friends, watching anime while getting drunk. but instead of getting drunk, you get railed by your enemy Abby in the community bathroom. oops?

╰┈➤ masterlist

finishing today's mission, you're walking down the corridor to Manny and Abby's room for your friend circles' weekly Friday tradition: watching anime together while getting drunk. it is by far your favourite day of the week and not even your nemesis Abby, who you'll always have to be faced with each with despite your often encounters on missions, who is always so bitchy and rude towards you. but this time, you decided to not waste your energy on her odd interactions with you and enjoy the time with Manny, Nora and Leah, who were the reason for you and Abby not throwing punches at each other yet.

the thing is; you can't claim that you truly hate her. of course, she's extremely agitating and provocative, but no one knew that by the end of the day, you'd be three fingers deep into your pussy with her moaning her name out like a prayer.

three weeks ago, your two were bantering on a mission with Manny and two other comrades about wether or not you should extend yall's mission for one day. normally, Abby was in charge of any leading actions, leaving you no room to counter back, but that day Abby was incredibly easy to provoke and you couldn't help but tease her back. one thing led to another, with you being pinned down by her strong hands on the dirty floor, while the missionary position you two were suddenly in was incredibly intimate for the first time. if Manny wouldn't have grabbed her by her backpack and got her back up, who knows what would have happened. until today, you can't seem to forget that day. her strong arms were pinning you down so easily and her eyes were filled with with something uncertain you couldn't quite make out. that night after the mission, you imagined her pinning you down in your shower, while fucking deep and hard with her thick, strong fingers, until every last drop of your cum was spent.

what you didn't know, was you were the reason for all that frustration Abby was facing since several weeks now. she still remembers how kindly and charming you introduced yourself to her, when you first joined her group in the wlf. she was stunned by your beauty, smell and beautiful eyes that she didn't manage to say a word back, leading her to looking at you with a judging expression and turning away. her own reaction confused her so much; she would never greet anyone so rudely and ignorantly. that moment drew her into agony, not knowing what exactly was wrong with her. her solution was to simply ignore you whenever she's with you, so she wouldn't face her problem of feeling like a loose limp whenever she's with you. her attitude would make you so angry and frustrated, leading you two to bantering and bickering anywhere and anytime.

you two were in this shit for almost two years already and Abby just recently realised that she's heavily attracted to you not only sexually, but in general. few months back, she got into a romantic relationship with yall's friend Owen, hoping to finally forget you and see you as just a comrade, but her relationship proved her unexpectedly the complete opposite. anytime Abby and Owen would cuddle, she imagined spooning you, feeling your plump ass and toned back on her skin. anytime she and him would make out, she imagined you sitting on her lap, grinding your wet pussy into the waistband of her cargos. anytime she and him had rusty sex with, she would imagine eating you out, until you were crying and begging for her to stop, and fucking you knuckles deep into another dimension.

now, you are sitting across her in your usual armchair, while talking to a new friend in your friend group, who was sitting seducingly on the handle of your chair. y'all were actually watching some old anime Manny found in a random basement of a family's home, while sipping on some homemade beer from your local kitchen, but everyone was rather talking to each other than watching. you and that girl are involved in a deep conversation, while Abby would watch you from the corner of her eye. the way you are openly accepting any compliments and flirting makes her breath hitch and her heart beating faster. after a few moments, she notices you two standing up, calling it a day and saying goodnights to your friends. frustrated and with furrowed brows, she watches you leave her room with the new girl, flirting and all touchy with each other.

you look incredibly attractive in your comfy trousers and revealing black tank top that would accentuate your toned collarbones and glistening skin perfectly. for the rest of the night, Abby is seemingly on edge and eventually grabs her shower basket to take a cool shower, praying it would actually calm her down.

the thing is that Abby wasn't the best at hiding her jealousy, at least not to you. you quickly realised how your interactions with that girl catalysed Abby's growing frustration, which still leaves you incredibly confused, but you couldn't help and spend the night teasing her to test the waters by flirting openly with the new girl. when you said your goodnights to your group, you feel her eyes on you with every single motion you do. swinging your hips, biting your lips and throwing your head back when laughing are all the things you did to feed Abby's visible frustration.

realising what just happened, you walk the girl back to her new dorm, but she wasn't actually your type at all. she was super kind and fun to talk to, but right now, you could only think about Abby and the new side of her you've just discovered.

as you got back from the girl's dorm to walk into the community bathroom, you grabbed your toiletries and went ahead wash up by the sinks.

it was past midnight and most of the people were already fast asleep in the building, but the screeching of the bathroom's heavy door tells you that you're not the only one awake at this hour. turning around, you expect Nora or Leah, but are surprised with Abby, who's just as shocked as you are. when she sees you, she walks slowly to the sink next to you, her eyes never leaving yours.

it is such a bold move by her and Abby's heart was racing, but she coldly says "didn't expect to meet you here, shouldn't you and the girl be fucking after the show you put on back there?"

her question makes you drop your the product you've just been using into the sink, stunned by her sudden question.

"how the fuck is that any of your business?" you say with an agitated tone in your voice, "and why would that even matter to you?"

"no reason," she responds and takes her top off, leaving her in a grey bra and black washed out joggers. she smirks when she sees your eyes catching every move of hers. "but princess, maybe don't put on a porn show on in the future if you wanna contain that perfect imagine of yours."

with that, she takes off her joggers and leaves them next to you by the sink, opening her braid and throwing the hairband onto her clothes. walking past you in just her underwear and wavy long blonde hair, she says "cat caught your tongue, huh?" and goes ahead to turn on the shower.

"are you telling me I'm a slut?" you respond, "is that what you're thinking?" you slap your hand on the cold counter, clearly angry and incredibly confused.

amused by your reaction, Abby leans on the wall sideways and crosses her arms, "I don't know, are you?" and cocks her head sideways.

the challenging look in her eyes drives you crazy, and without thinking you take a step towards her, checking every single inch of her out. her hair was slightly wet, leaving it much darker than its usual golden tone. her skin was glistening and her freckles were all spread over her body. her arms are flexing from its position and her wet grey bra is slightly visible underneath. her chest is incredibly toned, leaving her abs so prominent and captivating. and her thighs- her strong thighs stole your breath, and just slightly above them you see her black boxers, fitting so snug and tight from the water. you knew that Abby was fit and built so strongly underneath her clothes, but seeing her with almost nothing on makes your legs go weak.

you look back up at her with heavy eyes. Abby was still looking at you challenging, but smirks when she sees your eyes wander over her almost naked body.

teasingly, she slowly unclips her bra and removes her boxers, throwing them mindlessly away. while she does that, she never breaks eye contact with you and takes several steps until she's right in front of you. you don't dare to break the eye contact, knowing that this is what she's aiming for at the moment. for you to break, to give in, but your stubbornness wouldn't let you.

instead, you undo your pants and slide them off with your underwear beneath. the furrow in Abby's brow is hinting that she's clearly taken aback by your actions. you smirk in response and take off your top, throwing it into her face before grabbing your products and heading for the shower she's turned on.

"what are you doing?" she says quietly, the sound of the water splashing on the floor almost covering her voice. her eyes would never leave your exposed body and you tilt your head teasingly at her. "am I not allowed to take a shower in a bathroom?" you ask, pretending to be dumb. your game frustrates Abby visibly and you're shocked she hasn't broken down yet.

slowly, Abby walks up to you. her sudden quietness filled the room and your two's tension was higher as ever.

"at least take an unoccupied shower." she whispers, now standing in front of you, making you back into the wall behind you. you hiss at the tiles coldness. "but this one's already running hot..." you mumble unsurely, unsure wether you should tease back or not. Abby was intimidating this close, and you weren't sure what's going to happen next.

her arm supports her next to your head, while she breaks eye contact to slowly look down at your naked body.

the body she always secretly admired whenever you were on a mission with her. the body she always secretly dreamed of making love to. the body she always craved.

"fuck," she mutters under her breath, not daring to touch your body without your consent. with a desperate look in her eyes, she looks into yours. "look, if you really wanna continue your stupid game-" she starts, but the touch of your hands touching her cheeks interrupt her. she continues after regaining her focus, "-then we need to stop, now," she whispers the last word, her eyes never leaving yours.

"stop what, Abby?" you ask, tracing her prominent cheekbones with your thumb. "this- fuck, I won't be able to control myself if you touch me like that-" she mumbles breathlessly as your hand travels from her cheek to her neck, down to her glistening collarbone, tracing the beautiful bone.

"then don't," you whisper. "kiss me, Abby," you continue, your hand threading through the hair at the back of her head.

with that, she finally breaks in and connects her lips with yours. her arms wrap around your waist, hoisting you up and you wrap your legs around her hip, desperate for any touch you're able to get. Abby responds with gripping your as roughly, while your kiss grows more intense and sloppy.

desperate for air, you break the kiss and whimper her name, as her lips continue to travel down to your neck, sucking and biting any spot she could find. "so pretty for me," she murmurs, "so fucking beautiful."

your nails dig into her shoulders, clinging for support as your body grows weak by her words. "and so desperate," she continues, but removes her lips from moving your neck and looks up at you to see your reaction for what she's about to do next.

with her hands gripping your ass, she raises her thigh up into your core, pressing you down harshly. you try to suppress a moan by biting on your lips. "you like that, princess? like it when I press my thigh into your cunt?" you desperately close your eyes and bite your lip, trying suppress another moan.

"princess, I need to hear you," she says with a low tone in her voice. you can't help but whimper and she smirks in response, when she sees you so close to fully collapse in her arms. "

her hand travels up to your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipple. she lowers her head to lick it and a high noise escapes your lips by surprise. desperate to hear you again, she bites and twists your nipple with her tongue and you couldn't suppress a moan anymore, as you tilt your head back to the cold wall. "good girl," she mumbles and her other hand squeezes your ass.

before you realise it, her hand on your breast travels down to your core. her thumb strokes through your folds and in response you cling to her even stronger, the back of your heels pressing into her lower back. "you've been desperate for this, haven't you?"

"desperate for me, fuck..." a gasp escapes her lips and she presses a circular motion on your clit. "only for you," you whisper. you're so wet, the squelching noises aren't easy anymore to be heard over your two's uneven breath anymore. her middle finger slips between your folds into your entrance. "god-" you gasp in surprise and Abby chuckles. "you can just call me Abby."

laughing, you playfully slap her shoulder, but were quickly interrupted by her finger pressing on a bundle of nerves inside of you, leaving you moaning and trembling. "shit, you like that? like it when I fuck your sweet spot?" she mumbles as another finger of hers enters you.

your thighs begin to shake and you try to suppress the uncontrolling moans and screams by biting her skin, but she quickly pulls back and whispers "nah-uh, I need to hear you," she teasingly bites your earlobe. "A-Abby, everyone could walk in on us and hear what's happening..." you mumble into her skin, still suppressing any coming sounds since her pace never slowed down. "I can't- I don't care anymore. let them hear you, princess," she pulls back to rest her forehand against yours, closing her eyes, "let them hear you scream my name."

she added another finger to her ruthless pace, as her palm presses against your clit. you're trembling and shacking in her arms, moaning her name like a prayer. "attagirl." she praises you, grinning against your neck. "yes, yes, yes..." she taunts you, feeling you clenching around her fingers. "Abby, I'm about to- I'm to cum," you sob, struggle to speak.

"cum for me then, princess." she responds, "cum for me..."

the orgasm hits you harder as ever and you scream her name with the sudden wave that hit you. your vision goes blurry and you see stars, crying out the ecstasy you feel in your whole body. Abby is in heaven watching you fall apart in her arms.

"fuck, you did so well," she whispers breathtaken, admiring your blissed out expression. she kisses your cheeks several times, trying to get you back to earth. you look up at her dreamingly, still processing what just happened, when you two suddenly hear loud steps in the hallway.

"princess, we need to get out of here as soon as possible." she whispers, slowly helping you get your clothes back on and quickly following your actions on herself.

you two weren't caught that night, but lets just say the whole building knows that you and Abby aren't on bad terms anymore...

a/n: thank you for reading until the end!! let me know in my inbox if you have any ideas on what to write next :)

902 notes · View notes

leahsgf · 4 months

Note

Looove Lucy taking care of reader.

Could I have more? Maybe Lucy is the worried older sister who makes sure reader doesn't get separated from the group when they go out, or that she ends up spending her money on too many sweets. Thanks <3

reins

lucy bronze x sister!reader

pure fluff about lucy being an overprotective older sister to you

her role as your big sister was one that lucy arguably took the most pride in out of all of her duties in her life - and that had always been the case, even back in the days when she was a teenager, and would often forgo going out with her friends in order to play and spend time with you.

even when it meant clinging onto the reins that were attached to your backpack to prevent you from running off for dear life in worry as you toddled around giggling - finding it hilarious.

the pair of you had always been inseparable, and all you had ever wanted to be was like her, having decided the instant you were able to grasp the concept of her job - that you were going to be a footballer too.

so that’s exactly what you did, and lucy’s protectiveness over you only increased as you did so, especially when you received your first call up to the lionesses alongside her.

you were more than a decade younger than her, freshly faced and new to every part of what you were experiencing - being the youngest on the squad by a considerable amount, meaning that lucy worried about you constantly, even more than usual, and watched over you like a hawk.

a team day out exploring the city in a country you’d never been to before had the older girl as pale as a sheet just thinking about all of the different possibilities.

“stay with me - or one of the girls at all time, okay? please be careful. if anyone, and i mean anyone tries anything or makes you uncomfortable in any way you need to tell me immediately. this is a new place to us all so just be extra war-” you cut off her rambling before she talked herself to death, playfully rolling your eyes, insides secretly warming at how much she cared for you.

“luce, it’s okay. i know. i won’t wander off. i’m a big girl”

“okay.” she breathes, giving up on the remainder of her speech, instead settling for “i just remember you being so tiny you could fit in one of my hands like it was yesterday, and i just want you to be safe.”

“i promise. i’ll be fine.” you linked pinkies with her, knowing you’d be glued to her side regardless.

“don’t make me get the reins back out. i remember how much of a menace you were, running off all over the place!”

she pointed at you warningly, and if it weren’t for the stern expression across her features you would’ve laughed.

“that was when i was three!”

“i’m just saying! the threat remains!”

no matter how old you got, or how far you progressed in your career, lucy still would refuse to let you pay for anything, slipping you money with a wink and a finger held to her lips, like you were six again and giggling behind your parents back.

“you’re my baby sister, don’t be silly. absolutely not.” she would insist, playfully slapping your hand away as you reached for your purse, sticking a pile of notes or in its place.

“make sure you don’t spend it all at once, kay? i expect to see some change when you come out!” she called after you as you were pulled into the sweet shop by ella and alessia, who’s playful grins told lucy that she’d be very unlikely to see you return with any money to spare.

not that it mattered in the slightest really, she just loved teasing you and treasured looking after you, not quite ready to give it up, it being one of her favourite parts of her life, even when you were nearing being an adult yourself.

tried to fit in everything that you requested! thank you for it i enjoyed writing it - and happy new year!

not proof read so i apologise if there’s any mistakes

#lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #lionesses x reader #lionesses #alessia russo x reader #ella toone x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine

416 notes · View notes

wifeofnatasharomanoff · 1 year

Text

Sinful Affairs

WARNINGS: Nat has a dick, reader and Nat aren't married but they have a baby, arguing, slight angst, guns/knives, violence, fingering (reader receiving), oral (Nat receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, degradation, edging, choking, slapping/spanking kink (only a bit) jealousy, possessiveness , fluffy ish at the end

WORDS: 2,779

PAIRING: dark/toxic!mob boss!Nat x f!Reader

A/N: silly little me wanted to write this, i hope you guys have been doing well <3

There it was again, her. The woman you shared many nights with. The woman who couldn't be there for you and the child you had together. But you see her again. You felt your breath catch in your throat. Her red hair was pulled up into a braid. A little boy in her arms. “Natasha. W- what are you doing here? Why are you here?” her lips formed into a sly grin. “Why? Can't I visit my son and my girl?” You glared at her. Her girl? If you were hers, she wouldn't have left you time after time with that dumb little note every morning. ‘Sorry sweetheart, work issues. Had to leave, I'll be back.’ and every time you believed her. You had begged her to stay. To quit her job and live with you and the baby, it's not like she lacked the money for it. She knew you were upset. And that she was the cause of it. “Natasha please just leave.” she sent you a stern look and carefully put down the baby in his crib.

“And why should I listen to you?” she said as she leaned against the wall. “You don't have to. But I want you to.” she seemed unphased by your little comment. She was more humored that you didn't want her here. Or that you attempted to lie in order to get her to leave. “If you aren't going to stay, then there's no point in coming here. You're getting my hopes up, and Alex would know you well enough to remember. Remember that his other parent could care less about him and his mom.” she faked a look of pity as she backed you out of the nursery and into the bedroom.

“You don't realize that if I stay, you two would get hurt. Do you even know how many enemies I've made in my line of work? No. Exactly, so you can't be upset at me for something you don't know.” you scoffed, “oh, so you visiting makes it any less dangerous for us? Nat– you‐ God! I don't even know what I feel when I'm around you.” was that a confession, or were you still fighting? “Well, I'm being careful with my visit times. I don't show up whenever I want to.” so she chose to ignore that last part.

You couldn't tell if you were mad at her or if you wanted to risk it all for one more night with her. So you stayed silent as she brought up a finger under your chin to direct your face to hers. “Natasha– if you stayed here, you would be able to protect us. What if you don't come home for over a week and you show up to find us dead? Hm?” her grip on your face slightly tightened. How could you say something like that? “Detka.. I–” your gaze dances over her features. She accidentally let her insecurities slip, you could tell. Her brows softened, and her eyes were a bit glossed over.

“You what?” she slid her hand from your face and down to your neck. Her fingers hesitated before clasping around your neck and pushing you up against the wall. Her hold was tight but not yet unbearable. You felt your oxygen cut off at some point, making your head go all fuzzy. She was always violent but never over matters like this. When she noticed your hand around her wrist loosen, she stopped. Did she go too far? No. In her mind, she was always right. You gasped for air the second she let you go. “Y/N—” you coughed as you leaned your head against the door.

“D- don't you think you've done enough Nat?” you couldn't bring yourself to look at her. “... What if I marry someone else? Alex wouldn't mind a stepdad or step-mom. At least they'd be there for him—” that was it. She had enough of you by now. You winced as you felt her palm harshly hit your cheek, reddening the side of your face. “Don't you fucking say that you little slut. Alex is perfectly fine with the way things are.” you blinked back some unshed tears, “how do you know that? He's just a baby. He can't even talk yet! Did he tell you that he was okay with all of this? Did he?” she sighed as she shook her head.

You watched her slowly bring a hand up to her pocket and pull out a blade. “Natasha put that down.. fuck– put it down, Nat!” you shouted as you threw the pillows that sat on the bed at her. If anything, it angered her more. “Natasha stop! I- I can call 911. You've been wanted by the police for a few years, isn't that right?” she huffed as she threw you onto the bed with ease. “Please Tash stop!” you cried as you felt her cold touch underneath your shirt. “You aren't marrying anyone. If you do, it'll be me. You're mine. You hear that?” you had to give in. Or else she would've done something to you. “Mhm! I'm yours. I'm all yours! Please Nat stop.” you held your breath as you felt the tip of the knife gently hit your skin.

She's not going to kill you. Right? She has hurt you before, but you doubt that she'd kill you. Or maybe she would. A shaky gasp escaped your mouth when you sensed the head of a gun underneath your chin. It can't be loaded. Can it? You whimper as she harshly tugged on your hair and pressed the gun harder against your skin. “Natasha! Nat.. please t–that's empty, right?” her lips grew into a slight smirk as she lowered the gun and pulled the trigger, aiming for the wall. You felt your blood go cold, it was loaded. She was going to kill you, wasn't she? That's what she wanted you to think. The second you heard the shot, your body slightly jumped. The knife that she held against your stomach lightly touched your skin.

“Natasha please. Let me go. I won't marry anyone, okay? Nat, we have a son– you aren't home half of the time! I have to take care of him. Please, Natasha.” you were thankful she put the gun away, but she still had the knife pressed against your body. “Thank you. I'm sorry, I- I shouldn't have said I'd marry someone else. I'm sorry Natasha—” “turn around.” you look up at her with a confused look, “what?” without letting you process any of what she said, Natasha grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. You heard the knife clatter on the floor as she threw it onto the ground. You lay flat on your stomach on the bed. “God, you're so fucking annoying.” she quickly slid your pants off, leaving your legs exposed. “Natasha..” you stopped yourself from complaining. She was already upset, you didn't want to upset her more.

You felt her palm roughly hit your ass, causing you to slightly wince. “Count for me, kotenok.” she whispered as she sent another smack to your skin, “o-one.” she grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your face off the mattress. “Recount for daddy sweetheart.” you nodded as her hand hit your ass once more, “one.. t-thank you daddy.”

She traced the hem of your panties, chuckling slightly when her finger came in contact with damp fabric. “You got all worked up over that?” you didn't answer her. She slid her fingers against your inner thighs, relentlessly teasing your sensitive areas. “N-Natasha I..” she tore off your panties and tossed them on the floor. Your words get cut short with a muffled moan as she rubbed her fingers through your slippery folds, slamming your face against the mattress. “mmnh..” her touch felt like fire on skin, burning you up. “Tell me.. do you want daddy to fuck you?” you felt her press her fingers on your slit, gathering your slick and spreading it all over your cunt. “Nata– daddy please.” you didn't know if you were begging her to stop or to keep going.

“Get up.” you bit back a whimper and sat up on the bed. You watched patiently as her hands went to discard her jeans and boxers. Your eyes go straight to look at her thick, hardened dick. “Well?” you turn your gaze away from her. “Are you that dumb?” she sighed as she gripped onto your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. She pulled your face closer to her length and shoved a few inches inside your mouth. “mmph—” she buried her hand into your hair and pushed further into your mouth. “Be a good little bitch and suck.” you rolled your eyes and flattened your tongue along the veins of her cock.

She guided your head around her dick, shoving it deeper into your mouth. You slightly gagged as her tip hit the back of your throat. “Take it all in, baby girl.” her breath labored as your tongue teases and sucks her length. “Fuck..” her grip on your hair tightened as you sucked her cock vigorously, drool dripping down from your chin.

You didn't want this. She didn't care for you, but it felt so natural like it was meant to be. Like you were meant to be hers. But she wasn't yours, was she? She was yours too. You just didn't know. She didn't want you to know.

Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as her dick popped in and out of your mouth. “oh God!” her head threw back as you sucked harder on her girthy length, sinking it deeper and deeper into your mouth. It was then that she thrust her hips forward and her tip pushed back into your throat, causing you to gasp for air as you choked on her length and tears to spill from your eyes. “mmnph!” she didn't stop fucking your throat, her hand buried into your hair as she forced her cock deep into your mouth. “Fuck– I'm gonna cum in that slutty little mouth of yours. Take it.” you hear her say, and you felt two ropes of thick cum release into your mouth.

She pulled her length out of your mouth and brought her hand down to her dick and began pumping. “Close your eyes, sweetheart.” you could tell from her voice that she was close, you closed your eyes shut as her cum sputtered all over your face. “Shit..” she moaned softly as she came on your face. She lowered her hand down to grip your face, “daddy's sorry for having to ruin such a..” she examined your fucked out face, her cum and your saliva dribbling down the corners of your lips, tears rolling down your blushed cheeks. “..pretty little face.” she chuckled as she tapped her palm against your warm cheek.

“Get on the bed.” you complied and got up with shaky legs and laid on the bed. Natasha walked over to the edge of the bed and pulled your legs around hers. “What do you want daddy to do kotenok?” you were about to respond, but then she slipped her hand in between your thighs, making you let out an embarrassingly loud whimper. “Daddy please.” she raised her brow up and slid her thumb against your glistening slit. A cocky smirk played on her lips as she watched your hole twitch, and your body squirm underneath her. You let out a sigh of relief as she inserted 2 fingers inside of your pussy. She quickly pumped her digits in and out of your tight cunt, stretching your walls out for her cock. “Daddy– oh my God, I'm so close!” she pulled her fingers out of your cunt, “whores like you don't get to cum this soon.” you whined as you felt her leave you empty.

She grabbed the knife and swiftly sliced off your blouse, along with your bra, leaving your chest and stomach uncovered. “Natasha put that down. Please, please, I'll do anything.” you chanted pleas and begged her to drop the knife as she gently stroked your bare skin with the metal of the knife. “Nat..” you whimpered in fear as she poked your stomach lightly with the tip of the blade. She sighed as she threw the knife onto the floor.

“Shut up.” she muttered as she roughly held onto your hips and pushed a few inches of her length inside of your aching cunt. “oh daddy fuck!” she rocked your hips back and forth whilst she shoved deeper into you, sliding inside inch by inch. “How are you still so– fucking tight after all of that?” she grunted as she struggled to fit her cock entirely into you. “mm! You're so big daddy..” she thrusted deeper inside of you, earning a moan from your mouth as it hit your sweet spot. “oh fuck– right there daddy! You feel so good inside of me..” you hesitantly grip onto her muscular shoulders as you cry for more. She leaned down to press her lips against yours, pulling you in for a slow kiss. “You drive me crazy detka..” she mumbles breathlessly against your lips. You moan into the kiss as she thrusts deeper inside of you. “nmh.. Natty!” you gasp softly as she snapped her hips upwards.

“Are you close?” she grunted as she fucked harder into you. “..y-yes.” you were surprised that you were able to respond as your nails dug deep into her skin, leaving crescent shaped marks. “Beg. Tell me why you deserve to cum.” you mentally scoffed at her, “daddy please. Please I need to so badly.. please- please- please!” she snickered at your desperation. “Fine. Do it now it you won't get to cum later.” she said as she continued pounding away at you. You scream in pleasurement as you came all over her cock, your thighs trembling as your nails scratching at her back and shoulders, hard enough to draw blood.

She continued her movements on your cunt as she rolled her hips against yours, “ngh– daddy stop..” you muttered, all out of breath. “oh.. sweetheart, I'm not stopping till I finish inside of you.” she seemed unbothered by your whines and complains, her strong hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you from moving away. “N-Natasha please.” despite your attempts of getting her to stop, the whorish moans never stopped leaving your mouth. You clawed at her back as her tip pushed up to your cervix, “Gonna cum inside you baby.. fill you all up.” she groaned when she felt your spongey walls clench around her cock. She slightly smiled as she leaned down to pepper light, feathery kisses all over your stomach. “mhm..” you were at the point where you couldn't speak properly, everything seemed like a blur, all your words came out incoherently.

Her breaths became more strained and heavy as she fucked vigorously into you, “tell.. tell me you want me to cum inside you.” she breathed out, clear sweat glistened on her forehead. “I wan’ you to.. ” your mind hazy as you barely finished speaking. “You too tired to speak detka?” she chuckled, “no– Nat cum inside me.. please.” her lips curled into a small smile. “Whatever you say moya lyubov.” she said as she came deep inside of your cunt, painting your velvety walls white. “Fucking hell..” she panted as she laid against your limp body. “Natasha pull out.. ’m too sensitive.” she placed her lips over yours, softly kissing your plump lips. “Okay..” she whispered against your mouth as she slowly pulled out.

“Natasha..” you mumbled out her name, “yeah?” you weakly grasped her hand. “Stay.” her gaze softened as she lightly squeezed your hand. “Detka you know I can't.” tears pricked your eyes, “stay. Natasha, please.” you could hear your voice cracking as you spoke. “Please.. darling, I need you home. We need you home.” she wasn't going to stay. She'd leave like always. Right? She wouldn't listen to you. The thoughts spun in your head, “okay. Just this once.” your hand fell from hers. She was going to stay. “I can't let them find you two.” you furrowed your brows, “who?” she smiled and kissed your forehead. “Nothing. Go to sleep baby.” she dodged your question, but you were too tired to argue with her.

“Lay with me?” she nodded and lies down next to you. Snuggling her chin in the crook of your neck, “I love you.” she said as she pecked your cheek. A smile appeared on your lips when you felt a squeeze at your waist. “I love you too.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

1K notes · View notes

writing-intheundercroft · 6 months

Text

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties. You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages. Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons. Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded. So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day. You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching. It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people. You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose. “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch. I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly. It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow. At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another. You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson! Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.”

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit. He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion. Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel. He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice. It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out. And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years. The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work. You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine. It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her. “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think. You’re at the top of your field. You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you. The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy. Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom. It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital. It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes. Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains. Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline. Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward. Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames. A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth. There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information.

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful. Lost a few–even more are bleeding. It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them. Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name. Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain. And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them. The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects. His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them. They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love. You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath. The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised. Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year. You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars.

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting. He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to. Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest. You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut. The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later. In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done. From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included). Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital. But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them. Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring. They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened. You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you.

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest.

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied. Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps. She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.”

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.

“How is Sallow? The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you. Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door. It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!”

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you. He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns.

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really? I’ve lost five damn years in my head? What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.” Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed. Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie. Was it a lie? You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back. “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay. We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?”

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water. Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this. You’ll feel much better,” you assure him.

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes. He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere. But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period. It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body. With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him. The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso. Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy. He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room. You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago. You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered. Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off. His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union. You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you. You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch. Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her. She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here? It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you. I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth. That we ended amicably. That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt. Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde. It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact? Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home. Visitor hours are over.” you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry. I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours. I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks. Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart.

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave. You’re finally able to start your rounds. Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward. Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week. Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in. Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep. He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart. Nothing particularly new, and no memories back. He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies. It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell. A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops. You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving.

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.”

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian. Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me. Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that. I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again. You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably. One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.”

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely. You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles. It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child. It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully. Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning. Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean. It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound. You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue. His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me. I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that. I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve. Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.”

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him). “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument. “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer. It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters. You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl.

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it. She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him. He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me. Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian. You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else. Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him.

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind. Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable.

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice. That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.”

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold. I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?”

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies. You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron. When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man. He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles.

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face. The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful. Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable. And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore. In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen. He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights.

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight. You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname. And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room. But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you. At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes.

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily.

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them. Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars. They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart. I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure. That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have. You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that. So I packed my things and left.”

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back. After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work. Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted. Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love. He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley. Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror. A damn good one. The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others. I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you. We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks.

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement. A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it. But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged. It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight. And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay. That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly. “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him.

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t. And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him. From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger. And that’s good–it’s good for us now. It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy. I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man. That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you. But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly. You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love. You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest. I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together. The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy. Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat. Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration. At least he was when you were younger. Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even. The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.

The words replay in your mind. It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years. That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened. That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself.

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room. You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion. Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual. Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.

This is it. This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed. It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red. You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan. There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives. The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings. You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs. Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included. Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group.

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head.

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin. He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon. For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door. Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub. Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers. You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one. Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker. It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room. He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night. He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life.

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him. I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life. He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs. The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk. Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face. He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.” You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin. The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine. You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done. That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you. You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips. It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years. You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer. His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think. So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving. You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body. He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest. Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past. But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week. And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x anne sallow #Auror Sebastian #Auror Sebastian Sallow #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #writing-intheundercroft #this one got a little out of hand #should I write a smutty part two?????

418 notes · View notes

thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 3 months

Text

w.count: 2.4k (whoops. it got away from me)

chengsheng picks favorties, and she's not secretive about it. she's also not secretive about the fact that when you're around, it isn't baizhu either.

living in liyue for as long as you have should've meant your body was used to traversing the constant air influxes of going up and down mountains and large rock formations by now. however, contrary to what you believe to be the case, your body simply did not listen. really, it didn't listen to anything you want it to do.

it was always something. lightheadedness, severe headaches, congestion that made your eyes ache, stiff and swollen joints and muscles, small scrapes and bruises from whatever tumble you may have taken. anything that could happen always seemed to be the case with you when you walked through the door to bubu pharmacy.

it took no time at all for herbalist gui to learn your face and name. even qiqi could remember your face with her poor memory. with your regular visits, gui first suspected you were faking your aliments. of course, you could easily see how he could come to such an accusation. even you thought once or twice that you were just overthinking things, that it wasn't bad... until it was, and your conditions worsen with no kind of treatment at all.

the first time you met baizhu, you were standing rather unamused- and slightly zoned out- from yet another lecture from gui on how you need to be more careful or else you'll make the pharmacy run out of stock. he should be glad that business is practically booming with you around. instead, he was laying it on thick today... not that you were paying much attention.

"ah, so this is who the mysterious person qiqi claims needs herbs so frequently is."

you don't think you'll ever be able to forget how amused he sounded from behind you. or the look on gui's face as his boss interrupts his rambling that definitely could look like berating to anyone who wasn't used to seeing him interact with your near-daily medicine runs. you should've had a kamera on hand for such an expression.

you'll never forget exactly how awed you were to see the owner of such a renowned pharmacy for the first time either. a part of you was almost skeptical of how young he was, but then again age never equated to intelligence anyway, so that thoughtless nonsense was easily tossed out of your mind.

"yes, i guess that would be me," you sheepishly told him. "my apologies for the... neediness? for lack of better words."

"not at all. what is medicine good for if not to treat someone? it's actually quite relieving to finally put a face with a name."

"qiqi sspeakss of them sso often i almosst asssumed they were another one of her missunderstandingss." the secondary voice that no doubt came from the white snake around the doctor's neck shocked you for a moment. blinking as if taking in the absurdity of it, you easily accepted that the snake could talk.

this was teyvat where people could be born hybrids, having psychical traits of of species of being. not to mention liyue, where you knew of at least two adeptus running around the harbor. this shouldn't come as much of a shock.

"sorry about that too," the silent- i think?- you refused to tack on to the end of your sentence was left unspoken but clearly seen in your eyes. was that something to apologize for? in truth, the whole situation felt quite awkward so all you could do was talk to fill the silence. the silence that wasn't very silent anyway.

you had since stepped off to the side so gui could talk to another patron coming to pick up their prescription with the babble of the city just outside. if you didn't feel it would be rude, you would've just left and called it a day- even if you hadn't actually gotten your needed medicine from the herbalist at the desk yet. he had been too busy nagging you to hand it over before baizhu's sudden appearance.

luckily for you, baizhu was also intelligent enough he could read a room.

"please wait here. i'll go and fetch whatever medicine you need today." you make a small noise of acknowledgment before offering a small okay as he walks behind the counter and takes a paper from gui that probably had recommended herbs and salves scribbled on it for your treatment.

feeling like you just fumbled the first interaction with the pharmacy's owner, you sighed and pushed a finger to your temples before going outside. leaning yourself on the railing just outside the building, you bore yourself into counting the steps leading up to it. always getting a different answer each time since there were so many. you were so invested in your stair counting that when baizhu reappears in your peripherals with a small drawstring pouch of presumed herbs, you feel yourself flinch.

"i didn't mean to startle you," he chuckles as you gently take the pouch from him, using your other hand to dig around for the mora you know you now owe.

"it's fine. i was too engrossed in counting."

"counting?"

"the stairs."

"did you come to a final count?" he entertains.

"not even close," you say as you place the correct amount of shiny mora into his palm while watching chengsheng readjust herself by slithering once around his shoulders.

after that day, baizhu was around more often when you would stop by. your semi-normal medical pick-ups soon extend into medical treatment personally offered by baizhu in the pharmacy's back room, along with prolonged conversations to fill the free time he could offer. it was during these conversations that chengsheng decided that among the humans living in liyue, you were her favorite.

she preferred you over others so much that when you would come by the pharmacy, she would immediately demand to coil around you instead of her normal seat upon baizhu's shoulders. she would only keep to baizhu when you were around if his chi levels were running wild and she was confined to her job of maintaining them.

today was no exception to her favoritism.

you had once again shown up to bubu pharmacy, but this time not for whatever ails you, but for your annual checkup. you never used to bother with them, but shockingly enough gui had lectured you one year about it- so, to save yourself the ear strain it would be best to just get it over with.

walking up the outrageously long stairs to the pharmacy entrance, you sigh and rub your neck with a rather lackluster greeting to the open space of the front desk.

"okay gui, i'm here." you almost sigh, like keeping track with your health was such an inconvenience. dropping your arm and raising your view, you see all three of the bubu population together- which was almost rare considering they all have their own agendas to deal with near daily. "wow," you start with a smile at seeing them all, "it's like a party in here."

gui shakes his head at your lame attempt at what he assumes is a joke while qiqi abandons her post to waltz up to your side and grab the fabric that hung around your waist; a habit she's developed since you've been around more often. you're not sure why she does it, maybe it makes her feel secure or something, you weren't sure. you don't mind it regardless. you always accept her small act of presumed affection with your palm resting on her talisman tagged hat and small greeting.

baizhu blithely crosses his arms over his chest at seeing how attached qiqi has become of you. he has the hunch that even outside of the pharmacy you were pretty well-known because you were someone easily likeable, but to capture the attention of his little qiqi? color him impressed. still, he was pleased you had formed a connection with her and gui. even baizhu himself found himself enjoying your company more than he did before. each time was better than the last.

"it's lovely to see you again," the owner speaks as he uncrosses his arms into a more relaxed manner of stance. "gui informed me that you can be rather stubborn when it comes to these kinds of matters. I was worried i'd have to go and find you myself."

"i don't think you would have to go that far. even if i didn't show up today, i would've been back eventually. then you could've tied me up and thrown me into a forced state of compliance."

"that wouldn't be very hospitable of a doctor, i'm afraid."

a small tug on your hip directs your attention downwards as qiqi looks up at you.

"doctor baizhu will be taking care of you today," she says slowly, almost lethargically. you blink a few times in confusion for a moment before nodding to her.

"really now? what an a honor." it wasn't often baizhu did things like this, such common checkups were handled mostly by gui. you wonder if chengsheng kicked up some sort of fuss about it? 'nevermind,' you shake your head and internalize your thoughts, 'it doesn't matter.'

"best not to waste much more time," baizhu says, rounding the counter and coming up to your side before replacing your hand with his own on qiqi's head. "run along now, qiqi." she's quick to obey and gui returns to whatever it is he does all day long. you're ushered out and soon back to the room you've been in thousands of times before.

just like normal, you sat yourself down in one of the two stools baizhu keeps at his desk. just like normal, baizhu offers you tea for your time and just like normal you accept. just like normal, he walks back and forth along the many shelves of herbs and equipment for what he needs for the day's work. and just like normal, chengsheng is slithering down baizhu's outstretched arm, onto the desk and then quickly up yours as you offer it to her.

"aw, i've missed you too chengsheng," you coo. she always hisses when you treat her like a common snake, but it wasn't like she was going to do anything about it. another perk of being the favorite.

"it'ss just nicce to not be coiled around a man who smellss like grasss all the time," she plays off as she coils comfortably around your shoulders and even curling up your head to pass through your hair. most definitely forming knots in her wake.

as baizhu comes back to your side, you watch as he places his required items down.

"it never gets easier," you say.

"and what exactly are you talking about?"

"how... empty you look without chengsheng."

baizhu chuckles.

"yes, well, it feels as empty as it looks." he looks at the pearl white snake around you, clearly nuzzling into you more than him, and he smiles warmly at it. "she looks much better wrapped around you, than me."

"uh-huh," you scoff, bringing your palm up to cup her head and lightly nudging her away from your ear. she was making your skin tingle with her scales against the small sensitive limb. "i totally believe you."

"i've never spoken a word of a lie to you."

you always applaud yourself for not absolutely losing your cool for the things that could come out of baizhu's mouth. the way he can easily say things that were well past embarrassing without so much as blinking was almost awe-inspiring. if you didn't know any better, you'd think sometimes he was flirting with you- but it was baizhu and he was always kind and polite to anyone. that was just who he was.

your checkup runs smoothly and even though nothing can fix your accident-prone lifestyle, you were still healthy and ready to take on more scraps and falls.

now, the hardest part of every pharmacy visit was about to commence. convincing chengsheng to return to her contractor without much fuss.

"chengsheng," you nervously say her name with a slight shake in your voice. she was always a sassy snake, but when she didn't get to indulge in what she wanted, which was simply snuggly laying around your shoulders for just a while longer... she could be a handful. "you know you can't leave with me."

she meets you nowhere with silence- not even attempting to meet you halfway somewhere. nope, she's leaving you high and dry. baizhu watches with half amused eyes, a hand on his hip and the other reached out to brush against her scales.

"what if i walked our dear y/n home? would you willingly part with them then?"

"what?" baizhu had never walked you home before, you always insisted he not since he was a busy man, and it wasn't like you couldn't take care of yourself. this opportunity easily hooked the snake's attention as she lifted her previously curled head and looked at her contractor- you know, the man she was supposed to be unwaveringly loyal to.

"do we have a deal?" he chided, knowing that eventually she was going to let you go one way or the other. whether it be now by him prying her off you physically or walking you home and having her come back willingly. her forked tongue flicked out before coiling one full rotation around your neck and up your head, so her reptilian 'chin' sat on your crown.

"if i must," which was chengsheng for 'yes, we do'.

so, with you and chengsheng waiting at the top of the stone stairs, baizhu popped inside to inform gui and qiqi he would be stepping out for a bit. qiqi had peaked around the open front and waved goodbye to you, which you returned happily before baizhu came to your side. his hand came to hover at your back, so close you could almost feel his palm but never actually touching, and offered you start taking steps ahead of him.

back from inside the pharmcy at the desk, qiqi walked back to gui's side as they both watched their boss walk off with you.

"qiqi likes when y/n is around," she speaks monotonously- but she meant it.

"yeah," gui agrees, watching both your heads disappear further down the stairs with chengsheng still clinging to you. "you aren't the only one," he chuckles.

chengsheng picks favorties, and she's not secretive about it. her contractor, however- even if he thinks he's being slick about it- cannot hide that he does too.

and wouldn't you believe it? all evidence always leads back to you.

#genshin impact #baizhu x reader #baizhu fluff #baizhu genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #baizhu x y/n #baizhu x you #genshin impact baizhu #baizhu headcanons #baizhu drabble #baizhu fic

232 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 4 months

Note

reincarnated lovers soap and moon and thats why hes so clingy

God that would be something. I love a good reincarnation au, I love one character knowing and never being able to really say anything. The idea that Soap seeks out Moon every lifetime and hopes she'll remember him is delicious. Also Soap having to woo Moon again and again, knowing everything she likes and exactly how she works, but also knowing that she's a tough catch even when he knows her so well.

For the purpose of the Cowboy au as it stands now I'm going to say that Moon and Soap could have met when they were younger. It would have been probably while Moon was in college, or maybe fresh out of high school. Back when she was still trying to figure herself out, and working on her thorns. Maybe she booked herself a ticket to the UK with the limited funds she had and figured she'd have some fun in a country where no one knew her. Maybe she wound up in Scotland, at a pub that had too many SAS men crowded in it.

You sip your pint from the corner of the room, watch the raucous excitement of men celebrating something. You don't particularly care what, but it makes you smile. Their joy is infectious, you're not ashamed to admit that. There's a man in the middle of the crowd, --young, boyish, your age you'd bet-- who seems to be the man of the hour. His short cropped hair is ruffled, his shoulder is pat, he's given hard thumbs on the back, and his blue eyes sparkle with pride. You wonder what he's celebrating, you wonder if you've ever seen anyone smile that wide.

His eyes land on you and you look away quickly. You don't want to be accused of staring, not when you're alone in a foreign country. Americans already have a bad reputation without you helping it. When you glance back at him, he's focused on the crowd, talking and laughing with the other men. They push at him a little, urge him to the bar, and lean close to talk to him. You decide to stop staring before you really do get into trouble, tugging a journal free of your bag.

You're half way through your notes of the day when a fresh pint is set in front of you. You look up with a "thank you," and feel the words die on your tongue looking up at the man of the hour. Boyish wasn't quite the right word for him, you realize. He's well muscled in a way that speaks more to his masculinity than his youth, and his hands look worn from hard work when they slide off your fresh glass. It's his eyes that are young, his smile that makes you think he's fresher than he wants to give the impression of.

"Thank you," you smile back.

"My pleasure," His accent is thick, and his voice rumbles pleasantly. You wonder if he's lowering it for your benefit, or if that's his natural register. You blink when he pulls out the chair next to you and takes a seat. "What are ya workin' on?"

You glance at your journal, try to remember your exercises in self confidence. "I'm- it's a log of my trip," You tell him, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes drop to your chest as you move, brief but warm and appreciative before they meet your gaze again.

"Mind if I look?" He asks, holding out his hand. You hesitate before handing your journal over. Confidence, you tell yourself, it's not like you've got anything embarrassing written in there. You have your days written down, and a few thoughts on what you've done

The man flips through the lined pages, stopping near the front to read. You finish your first pint and start your second, watching his eyes move over the page. He flips to the next one carefully, his eyes still skimming. You didn't think you'd written that much about your days. Except that's your all around journal, you don't just have your daily notes in there, you have a few little stories in between the pressed flowers and ticket stubs. Embarrassment floods you. You reach a hand to grab for your journal and he pulls it away from you. Your heart sinks at the familiar gesture. He must see it on your face, because he freezes and closes the journal to hand back to you.

You pull it back quickly, and squeeze it tight between your fingers. "I dinnae get to finish that?" He hums, leaning with his elbows against the table.

"It's not good," You explain, he shrugs.

"Aye, but it's yours," somehow that doesn't hit you as insulting, there's a warmth in his voice, "makes it special, yeah?" You look at your journal and nod. You suppose that's one way to look at it. He tips his head to the side, studying you.

"What?" You ask when he's been staring a second too long.

"You are a beauty," He tells you his eyes never leaving yours, "you got a man back in the states, or are you lookin' for one here?" You can't help the smile that splits your face, or the heat that rises on your cheeks.

"You're a lot dude," You laugh.

"Dude," He parrots with a grin, "ya cannae call your future husband dude."

"It's my last night in town," You shrug, sip your drink, "I can call you whatever I want."

"John," He says, "can call me John."

"How about Johnny?" You compromise. Something in his eyes softens, melting like snow. His voice is just a touch lighter when he says,

"Aye, can call me Johnny."

You think maybe you should've gotten a longer visa. Only because Johnny swears you haven't seen the best Scotland has to offer. You run through your whole trip with him, and he scoffs at your route through the UK. He makes you laugh, like he's known you for years and not an hour. Future husband doesn't feel like such a stretch, or it wouldn't if you thought you'd ever see him again. You won't. Neither of you talk about where you're from, where you're going. There's a silent understanding, that this is it. The wrong person at the wrong time. You never understood star crossed lovers, but here you sit wishing the flame could burn just a little longer.

You only realize how late it's gotten when the bartender yells out for last call.

"Lemme see your book again love," Johnny holds out his hand, you curl your fingers against the cover protectively. He tugs a pen from his pocket, and holds it up to show you. "Just wanna give ya somethin' to remember me by."

You suppose you're amenable to that, sliding the journal over for him to flip to a fresh page. You hum quietly to yourself, watching the bar. It's nearly empty, you've been here longer than you planned to be and you have an early flight home. Johnny shuts your journal and slides it back over to you, clicking his pen shut.

"I'll finish it the next time I see you," He promises. You shake your head with a smile, and he grabs your chin to hold you still, leaning in and kissing you. It's soft and sweet, and melancholic. Your smile feels a little sadder when he pulls away. His doesn't seem to lose any brightness. "Next time," he assures you.

"Next time," You agree.

You take your time collecting your things, let Johnny jog to catch up with his buddies. They smack his back and give him thumbs up, pushing at his head when he blushes and grins. You flip your journal open to check what he left you. Your chest tight when you stare down the little sketch of your face, your penned in fingers tight around a glass, your eyes looking out at the blank page. It looks good, you don't know what he means about finishing it. You suppose it was just a good line.

Soap sorts through your bookshelf, waiting on you to finish getting ready for dinner. His eyes land on a red leather spine, and he carefully eases it out of its spot sandwiched between broken paperbacks. The cover is plastered with stickers, and the pages are warped. It's stuffed full of something other than notes, and held together by a piece of elastic across the cover. It's familiar enough for him to ease the elastic to the side and flip through the pages.

Ticket stubs, pressed flowers, pieces of wrappers and wrist bands are carefully pasted to the lined pages. He smiles at your handwriting, traces his fingers over dates and doodles. He stops on a largely blank page, carefully blank, save for the drawing in the corner of you at a bar in Scotland.

His heart clenches tight in his chest. Affection tugging at him, he can't believe you kept this. You never said anything, but he could never forget you. Soap glances around your room, and snags a pen off your desk, quickly but carefully sketching himself onto the page next to you. He loops a quick heart around the old and new sketch and scribbles a messy "I love you" underneath.

He get your journal slid back into place as you exit the bathroom, grumbling about not being able to clip your bracelet on.

"I hate weddings," You complain, when he grabs your wrist to secure the chain.

"Really?" He glances at your pout, "I was hoping to do something special for ours."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #f!reader #oc: moon #cowboy au #soap x reader #johnny mactavish

223 notes · View notes

subbing-for-clones · 1 month

Text

The Defective Jedi

Chapter 1

Word count: 2.2k

Trigger Warnings: None really, just some fighting

Every day you tried to forget and yet almost every night you remembered. Wandering through the crystal caves of Ilum was horribly cold and felt so lonely. You were never particularly strong with the force but you always felt it. That connection between all things living and the energy it permeated, but when you entered the cave you felt, nothing. Why did you feel nothing?

You heard the other younglings yipping in happiness and laughing in triumph as one by one they found their kyber crystals and still, nothing called for you. Time was running out before the entrance became a wall of ice with no escape and even as a child you accepted defeat before you accepted death. You were the last to leave and the only one who was left empty handed. You would remember the disappointed look of Master Yoda forever, his eyes turned to the snow beneath his feet with a pained look before he looked back up at you.

It wasn’t long after that you were sent back home to Lothal. You had taken your parents pride and sullied it with failure and you don’t think they ever forgave you for it. It was true, you had failed before you even really got started. Your connection to the force just wasn’t strong enough to be a Jedi.

Still, you refused to let the connection go. You spent your formative years practicing the techniques you were able to learn in your short time studying under the jedi. Hours meditating every rotation searching for that warmth. You did find it; you could still feel it and so you taught yourself as much as you could.

Once you were able to venture out on your own you left Lothal and your parents’ resentment behind. Never really setting up a home; you joined a bounty hunter’s guild instead and used your abilities to become a fairly prolific hunter. It was during these years that all hell broke lose as war erupted all over the galaxy.

Only one year in and it wasn’t looking good. Hundreds of Jedi had fallen to the separatist forces and they needed help. This was when a desperate plea rang across the galaxy for the aid of anyone with force sensitive capabilities to come and join the fight for the republic. Whether it was out of the desire to help or need to prove yourself to the ones who threw you out you weren’t sure; still you answered their call.

You were tested and trained in a group of others with similar stories to your own under several rotating Jedi. At the end of your training, you were assigned to be exactly what you already were; a fighter. You were assigned to various squads as aid and back up; using your intuition, strategy skills and your fighting expertise on the battle field with the clones. You’d never hold a rank above a grunt but you didn’t care. Every victory was a curse on the Jedi for giving you up.

After months of rotating between battalions you were about to receive your permanent assignment. Clone Force 99, a rag tag team of four, apparently defective, clones. The irony didn’t escape you.

“Why are we getting a Jedi?” Hunter asked the hologram of Cody. The others standing back but still in view of the commander.

“She’s not a Jedi, she’s one of the force sensitives the Jedi asked to join the cause. She doesn’t hold rank over you, you’re still in charge.”

“I don’t like it.” Sneered Crosshair.

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice. The higher ups want these people sprinkled out through all the squads in case of a Sith attack. The Jedi worry about them rising up with the appearance of a few and quite frankly, no clone stands a chance agianst them. They can wipe out battalions.”

“When is she joining and for how long?” The Sergent was growing impatient and didn’t like the idea of a new member being added to their group.

“She’s waiting on Kamino for you now so you’ll meet her upon arrival, she’ll be with you until the war is over or until she runs as fast as she can away from you.” The commander had a small smirk on his face that Hunter mirrored. The idea of sending a Jedi, or whatever, running amused him.

Once they touched down on Kamino three out of the four were sightly on edge with the exception or Wrecker who seemed rather excited. He was generally the most welcoming. The worry melted away as soon as they laid eyes on you. You really didn’t look like a Jedi at all. You looked like an operative. Instead of a robe you wore black armor and in the place of a lightsaber at your hip, you had a blaster and a large curved vibro-blade.

Crosshair couldn’t help but eye you up and down the armor looked good on you. You took each of them in once you took your helmet off and introduced yourself to your new companions, a dance you’ve done before. Wrecker was kind enough to grab the two crates of your belongings and load them onto the ship. There wasn’t much time for pleasantries before you received your first mission. You were to extract data from an outpost on Teth and upload it straight to Cody. Information about prisoners of war and where they were being held was your main objective. Anything else was an added bonus. You all loaded onto the ship after eating a hearty meal in the cafeteria.

In the back of the ship next to the bunks you unpacked a few things from your crates.

“Whatchya got there?” Wrecker asked excitedly.

“Ill eat a loth cat before I sleep in GAR issued blankets.” He laughed heartily at your response and left you to continue. You didn’t have any photos to hang or many personal items at all for that matter but that’s how you’ve lived for the last few years anyway.

Once you were finished you made your way to the common area where the clones were discussing strategy. Quietly you took the empty seat between Tech and Crosshair. The outpost was situated in the middle of the jungle. Intel reported minimal guards as it wasn’t a main base but still enough that you all decided stealth was your best option.

Once the plan had been formulated they all looked at you expectedly.

“What is it?” you asked.

“So why didn’t you become a Jedi?” Tech asked outright, Hunter elbowed him but didn’t faze the goggled soldier.

“I tried but, well they decided I wasn’t strong enough. I’m closer to the force than most people but not close enough to be a Jedi.”

“You’re defective like us!” Wrecker shouted with glee, earning an elbow from Hunter as well. You actually laughed a bit.

“Yeah, you could say that. I’ve used my abilities as a bounty hunter since I left Lothal until I joined the GAR.”

Crosshair watched you out of the corner of his eye. You really weren’t what they thought you would be at all. You weren’t a religious zealot you were just someone trying to find their way in the galaxy like the rest of them. He admired that, the honesty too. You weren’t trying to be something you’re not.

That night in hyperspace you tossed and turned in your new bunk. Nightmares from close calls on a hunt filled your mind. You were often reminded of the times you came close to getting killed before a mission. Eventually you gave up and made your way toward the cockpit. You enjoyed meditating under the blue streaking lights. You were surprised to see that someone had beat you to it. The lithe handsome sniper sat in the pilot’s chair cleaning his fire puncher and mouthing a tooth pick.

He looked up at you slightly taken aback by your appearance. Quickly he composed himself and half waved his arm at the other seat as a silent invitation.

“Sorry for intruding, I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You’re not.”

You were starting to like the way words seemed to slither off his tongue. You nodded a thanks to him and turned to watch the stars soaring by at light speed. Both you sat in silence for a few minutes before he opened and shut his mouth, wanting to ask you something but Cross wasn’t sure if it was out of turn.

He mentally shrugged and asked, “So why did you join the GAR?”

“Is one part brave three parts fool a believable answer?”

“I doubt you’re a fool.”

“Well, we’ll see if you keep that opinion,” you chuckled and earned an upturn of the corner of his mouth.

“Honestly? I found it ironic that the Jedi needed our help now. I don’t hold too much resentment agianst them but I do want to prove myself as valuable. Besides, things make sense out here.”

“How so?” He turned in his chair to face you and put his rifle down for a moment. You glanced at him and shrugged your shoulders.

“There’s no confusion right now. We fight agianst Separatists and clankers. I’m sure there are good people on those planets but this is the side I chose to fight for so that’s what I’m going to do.”

Crosshair digested your words and offered “We didn’t get a choice.”

“If you did, what would you be doing?”

“That’s a difficult question to answer, I’ve never let myself be hypothetical like that before because there isn’t a choice. I.. We’re property of the GAR just like my rifle and this ship. Don’t tell Tech that though, it’s his ship in his mind.”

You giggled a bit at that and nodded your head in understanding.

“I spent so much time hunting and fighting bounties that this just seemed like a natural course of action. I can’t see myself doing anything else instead now.”

Crosshair picked up his fire puncher again and resumed cleaning it. You watched him for a while before turning back to the lights and closing your eyes. You reached out through the force trying to feel the Purgill you swore you heard. What you didn’t sense was Crosshair watching you intently.

You were going over the mission plan one last time while Tech was putting down the ship a few clicks away from the objective point. The jungle terrain was difficult to get through but not too much of a problem. The closer you got the more the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Cross left your group close to the outpost to climb one of the giant trees for a better vantage point.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” you whispered to the Sergent.

He nodded in response, seemingly sensing something as well. The post was supposed to be guarded by droids with a few officers scattered throughout but something was off. No perimeter defense and no guards posted outside. Your group made their way around to a side door shown on the schematics and while Tech was overriding security, you Hunter and Wrecker kept watch. You could Feel Crosshair’s eyes on you and it gave you an overwhelming sense of security knowing he was watching over you.

Three droids were posted on the inside of the door and as soon as you were in Wrecker crushed one agianst the wall, Hunter stabbed one in the chest and you took the last one’s head off with your long viroblade. Quickly you dashed in and made your way through the base looking for a data port. Tech found one on a lower level and plugged in, searching the database until he found what he needed.

“It seems there are around fifty clones being held captive for questioning on a moon in the outer rim. There are also schematics for the spider droids here…” Tech prattled on interesting things he was downloading until Hunter shushed him and signaled for him to hurry up. That’s when the alarm sounded.

“We gotta go, now.” You stated with certainty. Trusting your instinct the boys packed up and started running back up to the way out. Once the door was insight, a wall of droids emerged and started firing at you. You fell back around a corner and started shooting them with your blaster looking for a weak point in the wall.

“Wrecker throw a smoke grenade,” Hunter barked.

“On it!” Wrecker tossed two creating a large fog that allowed you to step out, you reached out your hand and with a little struggle, used the force to loosen a wall panel until it flew into the side of the droid squad, pinning them to the opposite wall.

“HA HA NICE!” Wrecker shouted.

The four of you ran like hell out of the outpost to find several fallen droids, courtesy of the reliable sniper.

Once the five of you were back on the ship and Tech was taking off Wrecker was excitedly telling Crosshair how you threw a wall at a bunch of droids, taking out ten in one go. There seemed to be an impressed glint in his eye.

“That was good work back there,” Hunter told you sincerely. You smiled and thanked him, watching as the data was sent through encryption straight to Cody to do with as he saw fit.

Your first mission with the squad, a success you exchanged a smile with the sniper and sat in your victory.

#crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #crosshair #no y/n

103 notes · View notes

thatone-brightstar · 5 months

Text

More than all the stars (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader) (The Bear & The Fox Series)

Chapter 3: My darling, my dearest, my dead.

Words: 4k

a/n: Hi, hello!! so we finally meet the dreaded ex and even though you can imagine who you like, since writing it i always had Oscar Isaac in mind bc THAT MAN MAKES ME FEEL THINGS and also he makes one hell of a villain so you can't really blame me.

anyway, enjoy the chapter and remember that reblogs and comments are the way to show appreciation for your favorite creators and lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Chapter 2.

He could have done more than just stand there- looking at her with that stupid expression over his face- the one many use when all the words have evaporated into thin air. But then again, what could he say, especially to someone he assumed he’d never see again? Her expression sat stoic, apart from the slightly raised eyebrows waiting in expectation, there was nothing in her face that revealed the storm inside her head.

“So?” She spoke over the ringing in his ears and brought him back from his memories. “You gonna say something or just pretend I’m not here?”

“Uhm, H-hey…?”

“Hi.” She repeated with certain disdain and a dry smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He felt like a fish out of water, mouth rounding around the words but never able to truly push them past his throat. “Wha- what uhm, what are- uh…”

“I’m on holiday.” She answered for him and shrugged, cutting his torture short, though he thought that was more than he deserved. “I wanted to see what the great Beef of Chicagoland was all about…” Ross added and let her eyes wander from his to the dimly lit and emptied room.

Something about her analytic gaze made him stand straighter and rub the back of his neck in anticipation for her verdict.

“We’re, uh, renovating.”

Ross offered a single nod and a weak hum as her serious expression landed back on him. “Makes sense.”

A still silence fell over them again, forcing Camry to fidget with his knuckles and take another long drag of the already wavering cig. He wondered if the lack of conversation had always felt so stagnant between them- like the middle of July- or if time had truly taken a toll on their interactions. He heard her shuffle against the newspaper covered glass once more, but didn’t dare to raise his head until she spoke again.

“I heard about your brother…” She started, cracking her knuckles out of habit. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“S’fine.” Carmy answered instantly, the words had already nestled into a permanent space in his mind, but at least for her, he knew they were genuine. “Thank you.” He said and added “I’m sorry for, y’know… everything.”

A slight curve around her mouth broke the cold glare settling over him and despite the somber tone around them, the simple action let a wave of fresh air pass into his lungs.

“What part exactly?” Ross asked, digging her palms into the back pocket of her jeans and moving slowly in direction to the dusty counter. “Leaving with no explanation? Not even letting me know you were alive… or for being an overall idiot for as long as I’ve known you?”

The refreshing bluntness of her tone pulled out a soft chuckle from his knotted chest and he couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Carmy reached again towards the packet resting beside him and lit another tube between his lips, waiting, as if the words were magically hidden between the embers and smoke.

As she waited for an answer, Ross pulled out the stool a few feet beside him and took out a cigarette without asking, it’s not as if he would have said anything anyway, at least nothing other than:

“You smoke now?”

Ross shrugged again and sucked the smoke into her mouth. A gleam from her left hand caught his eye. Carmy couldn’t help the surprised expression falling over his face at the sight of a thin gold band wrapping around her delicate finger, or the shimmering stone that was placed upon it.

He signaled with his head in direction to ring. “That’s… new.” He said.

She pulled her hand back at arms length and admired the perfectly polished stone with a new spark behind her eyes, as if the owner of said promise reappeared in her memories each time she looked at it.

“Yeah… you remember Frank?”

Carmy’s expression grew even more surprised at the mention of his former co-worker. The one that Ross, if he remembered correctly, didn’t even give the time of day.

“Yeah…shit, Frank?” He asked, incredulous.

“Ugh, gross no.” The girl answered and Carmy’s shoulders fell in relief. “One of his cousins.”

Her eyes went from the shimmering rock to the plastic covered pop machines they had yet to take out and Carmy could almost see the memory of her lover replaying over her softening features.

“We uh, we met a month after you left… I guess it just clicked.” She shrugged and finally turned to him.

From up close, he could see how much her face had truly changed. There was little trace of the jovial features he had known, yet the spark in her eyes remained. It wasn’t for him anymore though, that much he knew, and it would have probably affected him more a year ago than it did then.

“Finally someone my age-“ Ross joked and slightly swayed in his direction. Carmy sniggered back, relieved that the tension was slowly withering away.

“I’m glad.” He responded sincerely as a gentle smile unfolded over his features.

The girl nodded slowly and smiled back, tearing her gaze away and refocusing it back to the lit tube dangling from her fingers.

“How’d you know?” He blurred out the thought that had been kneading itself in his head for a few weeks now.

“What?”

“Y’know… that he’s- that they’re, y’know-”

“The one?” She answered for him in a teasing tone that made him roll his eyes but nod back.

The room went quiet as she thought, only his foot continuously tapping against the floor in angst was heard. Ross’ brows slowly raised up as her eyes examined his nervousness closely, then she turned her body fully towards him and leaned against the counter.

“I dunno, honestly.” Her response was simple and he tried to swallow discreetly so as to not show his disappointment. “It’s different for everyone.” She reassured. His eyes rose expectant to her face once more. “I felt… peace. Like I can finally breathe and I’m not struggling to hold my head above the current anymore.”

Carmy knew the feeling she was referring to, the consistent pressure crushing his lungs that no amount of cigarettes could numb out but that suddenly, the single thought of you, fixed. The weight that fell off his shoulders as soon as he crossed the entrance to your home and the glee on your face as you saw him, that was the peace she was referring to. You weren’t the bandaid that temporarily taped up his shitty moods, but the whole damn antibiotic that eradicated the virus altogether.

“Listen, I-” Ross stopped abruptly to gather her scattered thoughts, exhaled loudly, then continued. “I just wanna get it off my chest. I did like you, Carmen, like a lot, but… we would have torn each other to pieces.” Her sigh came out like a nervous chuckle.

He nodded again and swallowed hard, taken back. “Right- yeah no, definitely.”

“With Jonathan it’s easy. It’s like breathing, just second nature. And in spite of everything that went on with us, I still mean what I said before… I do hope you find that one day.” For a second, her features softened into the girl he had known more than a year back, the one who had truly seen him when no one else had.

Your face instantly appeared in his mind. That morning at the farmer’s market, the cold breeze had tainted your soft cheeks pink and the fuzzy knitted scarf swallowed half your face whole. His chest felt like it could concave suddenly and he felt like an absolute idiot for not realizing it sooner.

An uncontrollable grin spread around his face, raising his flushed cheeks up to his eyes. He coughed slightly to clear his throat but it only fused with a soft snigger that filled him with an unfamiliar warmth.

“Yeah…” He exhaled as his eyes caught the same shimmer as the stone. “Yeah, I think I have.”

“I’m glad.” Ross repeated his words back, nothing but honesty clear on her face.

**********

The dull and foggy sky mirrors your mood as you mark your steps over the cobblestone, bouquet held tight in between your gloved hands.

You haven’t visited since the funeral, it had been too painful to do so. One loss after another had been enough to topple your fragile mental health and you were sure that if you had visited before being ready, it would have guaranteed a similar headstone beside hers. Despite the slight jittering of your fingers though, you’re sure of every step you take, careful to move around the more weathered graves.

Your heart leaps in your chest once you spot the space reserved for your grandmother. The headstone is more dramatic than the ones that surround it, but then again, she never did anything small. There’s a carved limestone angel that guards her sleep as it rests with crossed arms over it, wings wrapped around the slab. It still looks relatively new, despite sitting in the hard Chicago weather for a year and part of you feels guilty for visiting after so long, but you know she would have understood.

Your nose has started to freeze with the chill wind and you use one gloved hand to wipe away the rogue tear that tickles your nostril, before slowly stopping in front of the grave.

“Hola abuelita.” You whisper and sniff with difficulty. “Te traje Claveles.”

The dead grass snaps quietly as you sit cross legged and lay the vibrant flowers right under her name. With empty hands, you begin to play with the loose threads of your worn out gloves as you search for something to say. ‘Not like you can hear me, anyway.’ you think to yourself bitterly, then a humorless chuckle escapes when the image of her, slightly smacking the back of your head, comes to mind.

“Sorry.” You reply instantly, as if she could see your thoughts. “I’ve never been good at this sorta thing, you know me.”

The morning is mostly quiet, despite a few chirping birds and the light traffic that sneaks past the trees, everything is still.

“Nice place you got here…with the shade n’ everything- Mom says hi. I asked Papi si quería saludarte, but he says he’ll come by next week as always.” Your throat begins to close up and you try to clear a pathway with a few subtle coughs.

You reach out to clean off the few petals that fell from the dried flowers your grandfather left last week and another batch of tears bundles over your bottom lashes. You’ve always admired their love, the kind that transcends even after the other is gone, because ‘til death do us part’ doesn’t really carry any meaning when you truly love someone.

A softer smile takes the place of the teary one as the memories of Sunday mornings sitting between them and watching old movies invades your mind. She’d braid your hair with dexterous hands as you watched various men porcelain their love to a young Rita Moreno through the black and white screen. The whiff of coffee and cigarettes from your grandfather felt like home and the loving whispers they’d share with one another behind your back put the prettiest bird songs to shame.

“A lot’s happened since you left…” Your voice carries out through the wind, but you like to imagine that it's taking your words to her. “I met someone- not the asshole I told you about, you were right about him… someone else. His name’s Carmy. You would’ve liked him, Papi does, pero ya sabes como es, he won’t admit it. He’s been through a lot, but he’s still really sweet. He’s a fighter… I think he’s the one.” Your epiphany goes quiet in the secluded cemetery and your heart starts to beat even faster as the words sink in.

You’ve come to the conclusion that the bad thing about being surrounded by so much love is you’re always searching to replicate it. Your grandparents loved you so much, that the need for a father never even crossed your mind, and they loved each other even harder that all you ever wanted growing up was a love like that of your own. You went through countless partners in search of “the one” and always came out empty handed, but she was always there- with her cafecito and old movies- to pick you right back up.

What scares you now is that she isn’t there to pick you up if anything were to happen anymore, and after Isaac, you’re not sure if you can go through another broken heart as bad as that one.

You huff out a hard sigh and wipe your cheeks a little too hard, tainting them pink.

“I’m sure.” You repeat again a little louder to drown out the critical thoughts. “No- yeah, I am. I am.”

The distracting vibration from your phone pierces the calming silence and gives you a chance to leave the vexing thoughts behind.

“What-”

“-the fuck did you do?!” He yells from the other line as soon as you answer, making you pull the phone away from your ear.

“Hello to you too J-“

“What the fuck did you do-” Your brother interrupts again and you roll your eyes. “-I just saw that lanky tall guy from your old job drop my mom off at the house!”

“Really? That was fast…”

His frustrated groan vibrates across the receiver while you unfold your legs from under you and stand up. You place a quick kiss over your fingers and place it over the tombstone before moving back to the entrance.

“I don’t know what the big deal is, she’s an adult, she can go out with who she wants.”

“Yeah, exactly. Who she wants, not the first asshole you put in front of her.”

“Oh, you jealous you’re not the only man in her life now, huh?”

Joshua scoffs and you can imagine how he impatiently rolls his eyes before mumbling a ‘fuck you’.

“Fuck you too, dude. Why don’t you get a life and stop worrying about what my mom does with hers.”

“Fine- but when she comes home crying cause that fucker broke her heart, Imma send her straight to you.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

He doesn’t wait for another response before ending the call. You shove your phone back into your coat with a huff and pull your car keys out instead.

**********

There isn’t much you can do during the winter classes. Since the day recedes to night earlier than usual, the courses have been shortened to an hour long, which then shrinks to 45 minutes after trying to get the kids settled into their stations. Only after months on the job do you finally understand the vexing task of a sheep herder.

By the time the sky has gone from blue, to orange, to an angelic lilac, only two little ones remain and you’ve been making the most out of their cooperative nature by having them haul their drying works into the back. They do so excitedly, between debates over which dinosaur is the best and why it’s the T-Rex. The conversation brings a smile to your face as you hear their voices slowly fade away from the inside storage.

It’s a few minutes past 8 when the bell from the entrance door dings and a sigh of relief exits your chest.

“In the back!” You call to whoever arrived.

While the echoing steps move closer, you turn with your attention fully on the jar of paint that doesn’t want to screw on correctly. Once you get it right and the steps have stopped a few yards away, you look up with a kind smile that vanishes as soon as your eyes settle on the man in front of you.

Your lungs have stopped working completely. Your fingers hold a deadly grip on the jar, bending the plastic with enough strength to turn your knuckles white. Without taking your eyes off him, you blindly settle it back down on the cart and try to regulate your racing heart and breath.

The moment you see him again, everything stops in the most terrible of ways. It feels like standing by the edge of a panic attack, but not falling all the way through, just feeling the waves of cold sweats traveling down with every heaving breath. In an attempt to ground yourself, your fingers dig into the rough fabric of your apron, instantly absorbing the wetness of your trembling hands and for a second you swear that if you were brave enough to look down, you would find your guts splattered all over the wooden floor.

“Hi Uncle!” The little boy rejoices once he spots the man and walks to your side, oblivious of your hardening gaze on his guardian.

You swallow down the sickening sweetness that your afternoon tea had left in your mouth. “Kenny, where’s your mom?” You rub a hand over his hair with a forced smile.

“She had a late meeting.” The man’s strong voice vibrates through the walls with little effort, the sound ringing in your ears.

“This is my uncle Isaac.” Kenny adds as if you didn’t already know and the simple mention of the name rips your gut open once again.

You keep your eyes glued on the child, thinking that maybe if you don’t acknowledge the man disturbing the room, he would vanish into thin air like a mirage. ‘Or combust violently’ the voice in your head muttered viciously.

“Can you be a dear and take the last reference pics to the back? Inside the red basket, please. And then grab your bag, okay?” You indicate with a last gentle pat over his shoulder.

He salutes then runs to the doors and out of earshot. With another shaky breath you turn back to the paint cart and try your best to swallow down the knot of bile that has begun to grow.

“I need a permit from his mother to let him leave with a stranger.” You state as calm and collected as your growing anxiety allows you.

His deep chuckle reverberates through the crystal walls and lands on your skin, chilling it to the touch. “What, so I’m a stranger to you now?” He asks.

“You’re nothing to me as far as I’m concerned.” You scoff as you push the cart back to its original place, doing your best to calm the nausea that the memories of seeing him at the charity event are causing.

“Oh, cut me some slack, I’ve been trying to apologize.”

“Yeah, and what’s that good for?” You spit out instinctively, turning around with new found irritation.

The look on his face is full with triumph and your palm itches with the need to punch the smug off his dumb face. You wish you had the same courage as that night, when you followed him out the gallery with every intention of denting his jaw, but that kind of bravery only comes with alcohol and there is unfortunately none in sight.

“C’mon Fox…” He says through a sly smile and takes a step towards you, immediately making you take one back.

“Don’t call me that, you don’t get the right to call me that after what you put me through.”

There’s a stare in your eyes that would send any sane man running for the hills, but Isaac has always been anything but. He takes it as a challenge instead, tilting his head to the side like a hunter analyzing its prey, with a toothy grin that exposes the canines in an almost charmingly vile way.

His eyes drag slowly down your body with an obvious gesture, one that has you crossing your arms over your chest to shield as much as you can from his view. “Then what can I call you? Mi amor?” He says instead.

“Call me nothing, no soy tu amor.” You mutter through gritted teeth and move quickly around the room to finish collecting the last of your supplies. In the back of your mind, you rush the kids to finish quicker, but their debate keeps them too entertained.

“Oh, but I recall how much you used to love it.” His words slither out with venom and his eyes narrow in satisfaction when he notices you stop fully in your tracks and give him another angry stare. “Did you forget how much fun we used to have?”

“I remember how you fucked up my life-” You remark over his words, but he speaks over them again.

“Remember when I took you to The Met?” With each word, the bile in your throat feels more inevitable, clawing its way higher up. “How you thanked me so well for the trip in those lacy blue-”

“-Yo babe, sorry I’m so late-” His booming voice invades the room as soon as he appears past the exhibitions, bringing a wave of fresh air into your dying lungs. “-Cousin finally got the permits from Cicero so-”

Ava’s excited footsteps charge out the back and towards her dad, followed by a calm Kenny carrying a Spiderman backpack. The excitement from the children is enough to trigger your migraine but it doesn’t matter because you’ve never been more thankful for Richie’s terrible time management skills.

When he finally has his daughter securely in his arms, Richie’s eyes dart from you to Isaac, finally feeling the thick air that stays stagnant between you.

It only takes him a second to notice your stance, the hardness of your jaw and the menacing stare you give the man beside him. “Am I interrupting anything-“

“No.” You’re quick to answer. “They’re just leaving so…”

Kenny stretches his hand up to take your high five goodbye and promises Ava they’ll finish their debate tomorrow while Isaac doesn’t move. He’s still, with a defiant gaze that feels like minutes, then he swings Kenny’s bag over his shoulder and takes a few strides in your direction, stopping less than a foot away. You don’t retreat this time and despite the height difference that’s more obvious up close, you eye him down with all the anger you can muster.

He pulls something you can’t see out of the pocket of his coat and brings it up to your view. The signed permit rests between his index and middle finger as he offers it to you, but once he sees you won’t take it, he flicks his wrist towards the desk beside you and lets the paper fall lazily over it.

“I’ll see you around…" Isaac whispers like a menacing promise. "the paint suits you, by the way.” It’s low enough for only you to hear and the smile that goes along with his denigrating tone makes your face turn in disgust.

Your gaze launches daggers at his back once he turns and takes the small boy by the hand, disappearing past the installation and your lungs only stop burning when the bell dings a final time.

“What’s that asshole’s problem?” Richie mutters, hand over Ava’s ears and stare lost in the space left empty.

The desk beside you has never felt more sturdy than the moment you let yourself fall back on it, the adrenaline has finally left your system and turned your legs into jelly. It screeches lightly and makes Richie turn his head towards you, concern evident once he spots your colorless face.

“Hey, hey kid, you okay?”

“Wha- yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s Just um… it’s just been a really long day.”

“Yeah…” He plays along and takes a few weary steps towards you. “Probably doesn’t help that you’ve been smellin ‘ this shit all day either, huh?” He says, taking one of the closed jars with his empty hand and scanning the label.

“Yeah… that’s probably it.” You reply absentminded as your eyes focus past the glass, hoping to not catch sight of the man.

“Mhm…” Richie repeats in the same tone. “Listen, I know cousin’s got your car and he’s still at the restaurant so if you pack your stuff now, I'll drop you off at home.”

You nod a few times, eyes still on the glass, then with another heavy sigh, you clear your throat and push yourself off the desk. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you, Richie.”

You move quickly behind your desk and pull out your already prepped bag and keys- careful to not let him see the wayward tear that the strange confrontation has left behind- before tucking your hair behind your ears and giving him a thin lipped smile.

“Thank you.” You whisper towards him.

Richie shrugs his shoulders and the little girl that’s already falling asleep over them stirs lightly.

“What’s family for?” He replies and for the first time since you’ve met him, both his voice and demeanor carry a strange serenity that makes you understand why his daughter is peacefully asleep by the time she reaches her car seat.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78, @xeneth99 and that's it lmao

152 notes · View notes

urdepressedslut · 1 year

Text

Crush ❝part two❞

♡ Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: While Natasha wants to keep teasing you, she finds you in a vulnerable position and wants to take care of you.

♡ Warnings: mentions of violence, injury to reader, FLUFF, light angst, slight sexual tension

Things had been slightly awkward and tense since the almost kiss between you and Natasha.

Your stomach was constantly fluttering with excitement and nerves when Natasha would enter a room now. You wondered how she was able to make you a melting mess without even touching you.

You always admired Natasha, she was an inspiration to you. She had played a huge part in why you ever wanted to become an agent.

She was an amazing friend, always so kind and funny, always lighting up the room. You would have never thought that the day would come that you have feelings for her.

It was hardly an act that confessed one’s feelings, but her touch and demeanor from that day was addictive. She had done close to nothing but an innocent touch on your thigh and you were itching for more.

You remember overhearing Bruce talking with Steve one day, ‘Oh Natasha… She likes to flirt’

The idea that Natasha was only just flirting with you, had your stomach in knots. You had already imagined you and her together, and you liked it… And that scared you.

Natasha on the other hand knew exactly what she was doing. She knew it was mean to play with you like that, but she couldn’t help it. She thought you were so adorable, looking so lost and clueless trying to figure out her mind games. You had her wrapped around your tiny little finger, but she wanted to play around for a little longer.

Except sometimes things change.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

You had just gotten back from a rough mission, feeling drained and just overall exhausted. Your team had misjudged the number of enemies, being outnumbered. Your team however was one of the best, and were able to take down all enemies without a man down on your team. Although you and your team had taken quite a beating, you having taken the worst out of everyone.

It wasn’t anything serious, just some bruising here and there, but what had you grimacing was the cut running across your left breast. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but it was deep enough to hurt, the sensitivity of the spot not helping.

Making your way to your room, you wanted to hop in the shower, scrub the blood and dirt off you. But as you plopped your bags down, and sat on the edge of the bed, your legs gave out. Your body was running out of fumes to keep you moving, even sitting up was a chore.

Frustrated with yourself, your nose burned and tears gathered in your eyes. You felt pathetic, not being able to take care of yourself. You knew you were emotional from holding everything in all the time, never giving yourself a moment to rest, but it didn’t stop you from putting yourself down. You were better than this, and right now you were disappointed in yourself.

A knock on the door startled you, breaking you from your self-deprecating thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you tried to clear your head.

“FRIDAY who’s at the door?” You questioned to the air.

“Natasha Romanoff, Miss (L/n). Would you like me to alert her of your current distress levels?” FRIDAY asked, causing you to shake your head.

“Uh, no. You can let her in.” You confirmed, wiping your face dry of any evidence that you were upset.

The door opened slowly, Natasha peeking her head in. She was smirking entering the room, but her features flickered at your dull form. She didn’t want to pity you, knowing how hard you were on yourself. So she tried to play it off causal, not wanting to upset you. But her instinct was telling her to wrap you in her arms and kiss every bruise and scrap til you fell asleep.

“Hi love, how was the mission?” She asked, pulling out your desk chair to plop down on.

Your heart fluttered at the pet name. Although you felt in between with the name, you wanted her to continue calling you it, but you didn’t want her to if she was just flirting, and messing with you. Not when you wanted something real, when you wanted her.

“It was pretty intense, but nobody’s dead so ice cream for everyone!” You tried to make her laugh, but you felt like she could see through you.

I mean she probably could… She was Thee Black Widow.

“You seem tired.” She assumed, tilting her head, her eyes flooding with concern.

“I’m pretty exhausted, was gonna take a shower then head to bed. Sorry, don’t think I’ll be able to sit through a movie tonight.” You told her, wincing when the cut on your breast throbbed, and you held yourself back from reaching a hand up to grasp it.

Natasha saw your hand twitch, watching your face scrunch up just slightly in pain. She was worried now, trying her best not to show it, but she knew you were stubborn enough to hide an injury.

“Okay, I guess I’ll head to bed and see you tomorrow. Goodnight (Y/n).” She teased, standing up and heading to your door.

You panicked, knowing you couldn’t stand up. You suddenly felt very vulnerable, and felt the need to be protected. Without thinking you called out to her to stop.

“Nat wait!” You swallowed, “Can you… Um…”

Natasha softened her gaze, waiting patiently for you to finish.

“Yes?” She trailed off, walking back to your form on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t wanna be alone right now, and I uh… I can’t walk too well… My legs are sore— fuck this is embarrassing.” You mumbled at the end, feeling pathetic.

“Of course I’ll help you, stop that.” She told you, scolding you like a kid.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking bad about yourself.” She answered, causing you to scoff.

“How would you know what I was thinking?” You countered, swallowing when she faced you completely, raising a brow.

“Were you?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn’t find an appropriate response, so you closed it. Lowering your eyes from hers, she chuckled at your reaction.

“That’s what I thought,” She said under her breath, “Now let’s get you to the shower.”

Natasha looped an arm around your waist, helping you stand and holding up most of your weight. With slow steps she helped you to the bathroom, helping you sit down on the toilet seat.

“How does a bath sound? That way you don’t have to stand.” She suggested and you nodded your head.

Without waiting to see if you’d reach for shower handles, Natasha started to run the water, adjusting the temperature until it felt comfortable. Plugging the bottom, she faced you again, waiting on the water to fill the tub.

Kneeling down she reached for your shoes, undoing the laces and sliding them off your sore feet. Putting the pair to the side, she reached for the waistband of your pants. Stopping her hands just out of reach, she glanced up to you, silently asking for permission.

Your stomach was fluttering with nerves, being so close to Natasha in such a small space. You understood she was just trying to help you out of your clothes, but it didn’t help your erratic heartbeat. But there was no one else you trusted to help you like this, although you felt anxious, you also felt safe in presence.

Nodding for her to continue, she grabbed the waistband, pulling the material down your legs. Her eyes were scanning over your legs for any hidden injuries, happy to have found none.

You felt hot under her gaze, feeling exposed in your panties. Balling up the pants, she placed them over your shoes, moving her hands to the hem of your shirt. Glancing up again, she waited for permission again.

Your heart stuttered at her respect towards you, appreciating her regard to your boundaries. It made you feel even more comfortable around her, knowing she’d never push you into doing something that you didn’t want.

With another nod, she lifted the hem slowly over your frame. Her fingers ghosting just underneath your belly button, making you shiver.

Natasha again, was scanning your body for wounds, and tensed up when her eyes landed on the irritated gash across the left of your chest. Pulling the shirt over your head, she placed it into the pile, leaving you in your bra and panties. Quickly bringing her attention back on the cut. You noticed the concern wash over her features.

“It’s okay Nat, It’s not deep enough for stitches.” You reassured her, her eyes meeting with yours and you thought you saw fear in them.

She stayed silent, hooking an arm around your almost bare body, and helped you into the tub.

The warm water hit your skin, and you let out a hiss when you were finally all the way in the tub. Your muscles instantly relaxing in the warmth of the water, your jaw unclenching in contentment.

Natasha left for a moment, returning quickly with a med kit. Your eyes widened at the supplies in her hands, swallowing nervously at the thought of her cleaning your wound. It wasn’t so much the slash itself, but where it was. It was a sensitive area, and the memory of someone cutting you there made you feel violated. You knew Natasha wouldn’t hurt you intentionally, but you couldn’t help but feel anxious.

“Is this necessary?” You asked, your hands gripping your knees under the water.

“Yes, we don’t want it getting infected.” She argued back, “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“I know, I trust you.” You whispered at the end, your words making Natasha’s heart swell.

She grabbed a sponge and dipped it into the water, watching the sponge expand. She held it over your wound, squeezing some water onto it. You winced when the water met with your ripped skin.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She cooed, letting a couple more drops run over the cut. Then reaching for some gauze and soaking the pad in saline solution.

She gently dabbed the gauze around the gash, causing you to bite your bottom lip, tears gathering in your eyes.

She dabbed over a more sensitive spot, causing you to whimper in pain, your body trying to move away from her hand instinctively. She immediately stopped her movements and met your eyes, her free hand rubbing your shoulder soothingly.

“Hey it’s okay, you’re okay love. We’re almost done, you’re doing so good.” She praised, waiting for another nod from you before she got back to work. Applying a bandage over the wound after she finished.

It was silent for the rest of the cleaning, you allowing her to run the sponge over your grime covered skin. Your mind and body felt extremely relaxed now, with Natasha’s hands gently caressing your flesh.

There was something so intimate about trusting someone to care for you while you were defenseless. You hadn’t meant to, but you found yourself staring at her as she focused cleaning the dirt off your skin. Your eyes following the slope of her nose, all the way past her cupids bow, stopping on her plump lips. You reached her eyes again, and spoke out before you could stop yourself.

“You’re beautiful.”

Natasha’s eyes met your adoring gaze, smiling at your words. Suddenly you were very aware of what you had said, feeling embarrassed.

“Sorry I… That was probably weird— Not saying you’re weird— I mean of course you’re beautiful I just—“

Natasha’s lips colliding with yours had you quit your rambling. She had your bottom lip captured, her hand moving from your shoulder to the back of your neck, softly scratching your skin with her nails. Natasha pulled away all too soon, causing you to frown slightly, grabbing onto her wrist with desperation.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for awhile.” Natasha finally spoke, your cheeks crimson at her confession.

“R-really?” You whispered, still feeling breathless and dizzy from her kiss. She chuckled, her hand moving from the back of your neck to cradle your red cheek.

“Really (Y/n), I adore you.” She told you, the butterflies in your stomach threatening to burst out.

“I always thought you were just messing with me, flirting and teasing me, and all that…” You trailed off, your anxiety getting the best of you, because god you wanted this to be real.

“I was, but I really do want this,” She motioned to the both of you, “I want you love. I need you.”

Your heart swelled at her confession, your mind trying to wrap around the fact that Natasha wanted you.

This whole night, her taking care of you, cleaning your wound, being so gentle, making sure you were comfortable with everything. You felt overwhelmed with joy and you couldn’t help the tears that gathered back into your eyes, but this time it was from happiness.

“Nat… I feel so lucky to have you. You didn’t have to do any of this,” Your hands motioning to the bath and your bandage, “I can’t thank you enough, for everything you’ve ever done for me. You’re the only person that makes me feel like I belong. You make me feel so safe, so loved.”

Natasha held your loving gaze with her glossy eyes, not afraid to be vulnerable with you. She wanted you to be the only one who could see this side of her. You saying that she made you feel safe had Natasha cradling your face with both her hands, pressing her forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to thank me baby, I want to be the one who takes care of you, the only one.” She whispers, the tip of her nose bumping with yours, your breaths mixing.

“I think I want that too.” You spoke softly, your hands gripping her wrist in a gentle hold, thumbs caressing over her soft skin.

Natasha leaned back slightly, her gaze meeting yours, still cradling your face.

“I really want to kiss you again.” Natasha stated, her voice dripping with desire.

“Please.” You whined, needing to feel her lips on yours again. You started to lean your face closer to hers desperately, but was held back with a gentle hands.

“After we get you out of the tub and dried off, I’m not done taking care of you.” She argued, and you were pouting pathetically.

“Nat please… no more teasing.” You begged her, earning a dark chuckle from the redhead.

“Oh honey, just you wait.”

A/N: i love nat so much 🤍 i’m so happy you loved the first part, a lot of you requested a part 2, so i hope you all like it 😊

#reader insert #light angst #fluff #imagine #oneshot #marvel imagines #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #female reader #natasha romanoff #the black widow #friends to lovers #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff fic

710 notes · View notes

gridgirldrabbles · 9 months

Text

Accidentally in Love

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Y/N

Words: 3k

Warnings: none

Based on: Accidentally in Love – Counting Crows

So she said what’s the problem, baby?

What’s the problem?

I don’t know

Well, maybe I’m in love

Think about it every time I think about it

Can’t stop thinking ‘bout it

You and Charles had been best friends before either of you even knew how to walk. He had been the one to push over boys on the playground who had pulled your pigtails while you were the one who held his hand in the nurse’s office when he had fallen over and scraped his knees while playing football. The two of you were inseparable, and despite the constant changes in both of your lives that had been one of the few constants. When Charles had entered the world of Formula 3, you had followed him to every race that you could until your mother told you it wouldn’t kill you to miss a race and go to school for once. When you went off to university having freshly turned 18, Charles was the one to help you move into your dorm room and wipe away your tears when you were saying goodbye.

The close bond you’d developed over all those years was how you could tell something was wrong when you looked at his face, eyebrows knitted together and lips downturned. You’d finished university now, having graduated top of your class, and Charles had invited you to travel round with him for a few months before you started applying for jobs. You were currently sat in his drivers room, you’d been talking about the upcoming race when his phone had pinged and he’d gotten distracted. Usually you wouldn’t mind, you knew the people who contacted him were more often than not quite important but the look on his face was causing concern.

“What’s the problem?” Your leg stretched out from your chair to tap your foot against where his rested at the bottom of the couch. His head snapped up to yours, his phone quickly being shoved back into his pocket before you could even get a glimpse of what he had been sent.

“Nothing, why?” Charles knew you didn’t believe him, he’d never been able to lie to you in any capacity. Whether it was when he ate the last cookie that you had been thinking about all day or the fact he’d planned a massive surprise party for your birthday, he’d never been able to hide anything from you. You looked at him with a deadpan expression on your face, “what’s going on?”

“It was just Arthur asking if I could go home for a surprise party for Maman in a few weeks but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.” Why did he say that? It was only to be expected that when you became so close with Charles you’d become just as close with the rest of his family. He’d have to remember to text Arthur later and tell him he had a surprise party to plan.

“Oh that’s a shame,” your lips pouted slightly at the thought of how sad Pascale would be at the fact she wouldn’t have all three of her boys at her birthday, she’d become a second mother to you very quickly over the years. “Is there no way you can move your plans around?”

“Yeah, I’ll ask and see if I can rearrange.” He was impressed that he’d managed to keep his cool but he knew his mother was your weak spot, you spoke to her even more than he did. He looked at his watch before ushering you out of the room and down to your spot at the back of the garage, leaving you with a soft peck on the forehead before he got into the car for free practice.

The real reason he’d been so perturbed was a text from the Frenchman only a few garages down. Pierre had messaged him and asked Charles for your number. He usually would be more than willing to give Pierre his friends’ numbers, but this time was different because it was you. It was sort of an open secret that Charles was absolutely head over heels for you, and everyone seemed to be aware of it. Except you, the one person Charles actually wanted to notice.

The truth was Pierre knew exactly how Charles felt about you, he had only asked for your number because he was starting to feel about sorry for his friend and the pining look he was always sending your way. In a last ditch attempt he had sent that text with the hope that Charles would see other people were bound to be interested in you sooner or later and he would have missed his opportunity.

What Charles didn’t know is that you’d felt the exact same way for as long as you could possibly remember. It had started when your mothers joked about how you would eventually get married given the pair of you spent so much time together. As you’d gotten older your friendship grew stronger, as did your feelings. When Charles had come over one day and told you all about his first kiss it had taken everything in you not to burst into tears right in front of him.

Over time you’d learned to control your emotions around him much better, but every now and again you would catch yourself staring and feel your heart beating faster, or you wouldn’t be able to stop the blush that crept up your neck and onto your cheeks when he sent a wink your way. A lot of boys had propositioned you over the years, sure you’d had one night stands over the years and gone on dates but nothing had really ever stuck. You knew deep down it was because you were comparing all of them to your best friend and none of them could even hold a candle to him in any regard, so you settled for being happily single until you got over him.

Except you never seemed to. The lingering touches and longing gazes exchanged across crowded rooms kept that little flicker of hope awake in your heart and it meant you could never moved on. Moving on would have required cutting Charles out of your life in one way or another and that just wasn’t something you were prepared to do.

How ironic that the two of you were so head over heels for each other. You’d spent years rebuking claims that you were secretly dating, admittedly with red cheeks and stuttering tongues, but none the less you had denied it. Neither of you had meant to fall in love but neither of you were willing to move on either, so you remained in an unrequited limbo for as long as it was going to take for one of you to make the first move.

Come on, come on

Turn a little faster

Come on, come on

The world will follow after

Come on, come on

Because everybody’s after love

It turns out you didn’t have to wait very long. The same weekend Pierre had sent his forsaken text, Charles had won the race and claimed a decent lead in the championship, which was only ever going to lead to one thing. Drinking.

In celebration of your best friends win, you were decked out in a stunning Ferrari red, the bold dress matching the colour of your lips. When Charles had come to pick you up from your room, he would be lying if he said his mouth hadn’t gotten a little drier and his pants a little tighter. If it was up to him he would’ve carried you back into your hotel room and that would’ve been his celebration. Instead he just told you that you looked beautiful and planted a soft kiss on your cheek before offering an arm out to you. He knew how badly your heels hurt your feet so any time he saw you wearing them he would offer you his arm to keep you steady.

You had met some of the other drivers at the club and the drinks had been flowing from the moment you’d crossed the threshold. Pierre had shoved shots of tequila into your hands and it had only gotten messier from there. You couldn’t even remember how many drinks you had when you’d dragged Charles by his hand onto the dancefloor, the other drivers watching with sly smiles in the hopes that the Monegasque would finally make his move.

The dancing remained fairly PG as it always was between you, both trying to make the other laugh with ridiculous moves. Your hands were interlocked when Charles released one of them and raised the other above your head, silently telling you to start spinning. His hand led your moments as he yelled “faster, faster!”, your hair flying around you and your laughs being able to be heard even over the thumping music. It didn’t take long for you to trip over your own feet and go stumbling forward.

Given his lightning reactions, it was no surprise that Charles caught you and balanced you upright. You were surprised when you lifted your head and you were virtually nose to nose with him, the faint smell of tequila lingering on his breath as it washed over your face and intoxicated you even more than you already had been. Your eyes naturally flicked down towards his slightly parted lips and that was the only signal Charles had needed. He thanked the alcohol for his increased confidence because he didn’t think he’d ever been so happy as when his lips felt yours mould themselves to fit his.

After a few seconds you both pulled away breathlessly. He’d thought about this moment thousands of times but nothing could’ve prepared him for the real thing. Your heaving chest, eyes staring up into his with a small smile playing on your lips. Before he could even say anything your lips were back on his, arms settled on his shoulders.

Well I didn’t mean to do it

But there’s no escaping your love

Neither of you had expected anything to stem from that night, both of you thought it was just a drunken incidence that would quickly be forgotten as you got back into your usual routine.

That was until you went out drinking again the week after and ended up in a dark corner of the club with your lips pressed together.

You thought it would’ve been awkward kissing your best friend without being in a relationship but it felt so natural that it didn’t change your friendship in the slightest. You still saw each other as much as you could, you still cuddled up on Charles’ couch whenever you were watching films, you still facetimed every day when he was away for races.

In fact, it had even brought you closer. While you still acted normally around each other there was a certain tension in the air whenever the two of you were alone.

Come on, come on

Move a little closer

Come on, come on

I wanna hear you whisper

Come on, come on

Settle down inside my love

After that night it hadn’t taken long for Charles to officially ask you to be his, and you jumped at the chance to say yes, it was something you’d spent days dreaming about. Your days together were spent in quiet bliss, a private bubble where you got to be deeply, head over heels in love.

Neither of you felt comfortable revealing your relationship to anyone right away, it was already strange enough to be navigating the path of friends to lovers without everyone else getting involved. It hadn't felt strange just kissing when their were no strings attached, but falling in love was a completely different ball park. This was understandably a bit difficult for you both, trying to control lingering gazes and wandering hands as best you could when others were around.

So far, no one had cottoned on to the fact that the two of you were spending so much time together. You were virtually glued at the hip before you got together so why would anyone suspect anything now?

The big issue came when the two of you were invited to Pierre’s house for a big summer break party. You knew that you weren’t the best at self-control when you had a bit of alcohol in your system, and Charles was going to know virtually everyone there.

You were just swiping your lipstick over your pouted lips when Charles came into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, chin settled delicately on your shoulder as he smiled softly at you in the mirror.

“Why do you look so worried?”

“I’m not,” you lied, “I just don’t want to be late.”

He spun you around so your lower back was pressed against the counter before tilting your chin up with his fingers in order to make your eyes meet his. Looking into his glassy orbs made you sigh, “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to control myself around you when I’m drunk, what if people notice?”

Charles couldn’t help but laugh at how sweet you were. “Mon amour, if they notice then they notice, but I promise it’ll be easier than you think.” He left a soft peck on the tip of your nose before taking your hand and leading you to the front door.

Pierre’s apartment wasn’t very far from Charles’, in reality nothing in Monaco was, so the pair of you decided to walk. As people stopped your boyfriend on the street and asked for photographs you hung back in the shadows. You knew it didn’t take much to spark a rumour online, and if the two of you were seen together as dressed up as you were people would’ve assumed it was a date.

The walk didn’t take long and before you knew it you were surrounded by far too many people and far too many drinks. No one had bat an eye when you had walked in together, knowing that Charles would’ve been gentlemanly enough to pick you up even when you were still best friends.

The alcohol flowed freely and quickly, and it didn’t take long for you to start feeling the buzz as you caught up with some of the drivers you hadn’t seen in a while. You couldn’t help how your eyes kept flitting over to Charles, often meeting his gaze as he searched for you across the room.

When your eyes turned back to the conversation you were met with Daniel’s knowing gaze, a wide, smug smirk sat across his tanned face. He leaned directly into you, “You know, I think he’d be inclined to say yes if you asked him out on a date.”

It took all of your willpower to not laugh in his face and instead to look embarrassed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not, love. Now go over and talk to him, he looks like a lost puppy without you next to him.” With a quick shove he had sent you stumbling into the middle of the room where you regained your footing and threw him the middle finger. But that didn’t stop you from making your way over to Charles.

He was catching up with Alex when you reached his side, greeting Alex like an old friend and asking how Lily was. You’d become quite close with his girlfriend after you decided to introduce yourself at one of the many races you’d both attended. It turns out you’d had a lot in common and had stayed good friends since that day.

While animatedly chatting to Alex, you could feel Charles’ hand twitch against your own, his pinky finger looping around yours with the lightest touch, almost like a breath. If you hadn’t been hyperaware of all of his movements you may have missed it, but you didn’t, so you gently squeezed your hand to show him how much you appreciated the gesture.

It wasn’t long before Alex was swept aware by other attendees which left you and Charles to yourselves. As soon as he was sure no one was paying the two of you any attention, Charles grabbed your hand and led you to the balcony.

When the door settled behind you with a click, his lips were on yours, hands pulled your hips as close as humanly possible to his own. He pulled away while taking a deep breath, resting his forehead on yours as he closed his eyes, “I hate not being able to touch you when I want.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and raise an eyebrow, “I thought you said this was going to be easy?”

“EASIER I said, not easy…and I was wrong anyway, this is fucking hard.” He whined. He felt like stomping his foot like a toddler but knew you’d never let him live it down if he did.

“We can go home in a couple of hours and you can touch me which ever way you’d like,” you whispered into his ear, heart skipping a beat at the way his hands tensed on the curve of your waist.

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s a promise.”

With a chaste kiss on the lips and a cheeky squeeze of your bum, the two of you returned to the party, thankful that no one had noticed your absence.

Pierre immediately found the two of you and wrapped his arms around you both, horrendously intoxicated despite it still being relatively early in the evening. He swayed silently between you before he took a look at Charles’ face.

He stopped moving entirely and grabbed the Monegasques face between his thumb and fingers, squishing his cheeks together. You couldn’t help but laugh as Charles’ face turned to one of horror, “What the hell are you doing, mate?”

Pierre squinted his eyes even more than they already were, “Are you wearing Y/N’s lipstick?”

#cl16 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 oneshot #formula 1 oneshot

326 notes · View notes

pluviowriting · 10 days

Text

Served Cold

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: violence, major HL game spoiler(s), swearing, I think that’s it.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Garreth Weasley x f!Ravenclaw!MC

A/N: Enjoy angry Garreth standing up for MC like 2 years after the fact but it’s the thought that counts really. I also wrote this almost all in one sitting so it is barely proofread xoxo Pluv

~~~

“I want to hear all about fifth year,” Garreth insisted, finally coming down from the mild temper tantrum he threw when MC showed him the Room of Requirement…and accidentally let it slip that it had been his aunt who showed it to her in hopes of giving her somewhere private to catch up on her studies.

“You spent a lot of time with Sebastian that year.”

MC immediately clocked the jealousy in his voice, and she didn’t even try to hide the smug smile that settled on her face.

“And I’ve spent a lot of time with you every year since. I was trying to help him find a cure for Anne. We both went through a lot that year. Really Gare, it’s like having a brother.”

“And you two weren’t able to find anything to help Anne?”

His voice grew soft at the mention of the other Sallow twin. She had touched more hearts than just those in her house. Garreth remembered the girl fondly, filled with memories of antics that rivaled his own like some unspoken competition between the two. She, of course, had the benefit of being able to drag Sebastian and Ominis into her schemes. Maybe half the time he had been able to trick Leander into participating.

“No.” She hesitated before looking at Garreth, a newfound seriousness on her face. “Gare, I need you to swear to me what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. Do you understand?”

He sat a little straighter on the couch they were sitting on. He looked down at her and his eyes scanned over her face, trying to find a clue for what was about to come out of her mouth.

“I swear, MC. Whatever you tell me will stay in this room.”

The tension gradually left her shoulders as she recounted most of what she and Sebastian did in an attempt to find a cure for the mysterious curse that plagued the girl in Feldcroft. She did, intentionally, twist the story of what exactly happened in the catacombs. Solomon Sallow’s true cause of death was a secret she’d take to the grave. In embracing the relief it felt to just tell someone, especially someone who mattered to her as much as Garreth did, about just how much she had done during her first year on top of defeating Ranrok under the school, she missed the boy beside her growing more and more tense with every word she spoke.

“He used an Unforgivable on you?”

The cold, level tone that she had never heard come from his lips finally clued her in on the fact that her boyfriend hadn’t quite enjoyed hearing what she had gone through.

“Well, it was that or we would’ve died down there, Gare. We found the skeleton of Ominis’s aunt for Merlin’s sake. And I didn’t know the spell then, so I couldn’t have cast it.”

“He could have – you didn’t know it then? So you know it now?!”

“I had him teach me later. I uh it’s very useful when you’re spending your nights going up against poachers and ashwinders.”

“Ominis was there too. They both just agreed to let you take the godsdamned torture curse?”

MC opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even get a word out, he was gone. It took longer for her body to react than she would’ve liked, and that delay paired with how much taller the Gryffindor was, she knew catching up to him before he found the Slytherin boys was going to be impossible.

~~~

“Oi! Sallow!”

Garreth was marching across the courtyard, the anger radiating off of him in waves so palpable it repelled anyone standing between him and the two Slytherin boys he was looking for.

“What’s got your knickers—what the fuck?!”

Sebastian’s antagonistic greeting was cut short when Garreth’s fist made contact with his cheek. The redhead was absolutely seething.

“Not so fucking tough when it’s someone your own size, are you? Huh?”

“What in Merlin’s beard are you talking about?”

“Garreth, I—“

“Gaunt, if you open your mouth to try and defend him, what little grace I’m giving you will end. Don’t think I won’t exclude you from getting your arse kicked just because you can’t see it coming.”

His attention turned back to Sebastian, and the brunet still had the audacity to look confused. The sight just pissed Garreth off more.

“I know what you did, you fucking bastard. Were you not man enough to take it yourself? You had to make her take it? Did you two bring her to her common room afterwards or did you just let her walk all the way from the godsdamned dungeons up to Ravenclaw tower? You fucking cowards!”

His angry words were no longer enough and MC finally found them just as Garreth pounced on Sebastian and the two rolled around in the grass. Sebastian was only trying to dodge Garreth’s punches, and the fact he wasn’t fighting back just spurred the redhead on further.

“Levioso!” Her own voice carried across the lawn, her chest heaving as she felt she had searched everywhere in the castle before finally finding the scene she interrupted.

The anger didn’t leave Garreth’s eyes as he levitated over Sebastian until his glare was blocked by a particularly irritated and flustered witch. She affixed him with a withering stare before turning to her friend. She produced a wiggenweld potion from her pocket - because of course she still carried them around everywhere - and offered both Sebastian and Ominis an apology.

“I’ll deal with him. I apologize that I wasn’t quick enough to catch him before he found you two. I’ll handle him from here. I’ll speak with you two at dinner.”

Once the two were gone, she turned back to Garreth, arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze wasn’t as harsh as it had been, but it was still painfully obvious she wasn’t happy with him.

“I swear it won’t leave this room,” she mocked him, letting him fall to the ground.

Garreth’s cheeks almost matched his hair as he stood, frowning down at her as his eyes locked on hers.

”Well, I didn’t know the severity of what I was going to hear when you made me swear. You expected me to just hear what they, what he, made you endure and not do anything? Either one of them could have taken that curse instead of having you do it. I mean have they even apologized? It’s been two years, MC. Please tell me they at least had the decency to apologize afterwards.”

She hesitated, preparing to have to stop him again. “They don’t need to apologize. It was either take the curse or die. And I wasn’t going to die in some hidden room in this castle that no one else would know existed.”

His stare was incredulous as he tried to gauge how much her anger would be worth following the two snakes she set free. Feeling her arms wrap around him caused him to tense for a moment before he relaxed and he reciprocated her hold.

“Thank you for being so upset on my behalf, Garreth. If I were in the same scenario again, I’d take it. No matter who I would’ve been stuck there with, I would’ve taken that curse to get us out.”

”No, you wouldn’t have.”

She looked up at him, her facial expression indignant. She was clearly ready to argue but seeing the look on his face clearly made her falter and she didn’t speak.

”You wouldn’t have taken it if you were stuck with me. I love you too much to even imagine having to put you through that.”

The warm feeling from the Room of Requirement, when she realized she was able to tell him things she couldn’t tell anyone else, returned to her chest.

”I love you too, Garreth. Enough to never put us in a situation that requires that curse.”

He chuckled, leaning down closer to his favorite witch. “You’ve got a deal,” he murmured before sealing it with a kiss.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #garreth x f!mc #garreth x mc #hogwarts legacy garreth

59 notes · View notes

vaguely-concerned · 2 years

Text

after some reflection I've reached the conclusion that to my mind nona the ninth did need to be its own book -- not in terms of delivering the plot or character developments, necessarily, but to be a thematic mirror to harrow the ninth in a way I don't think you could have done if this was also trying to do its job as the last book of a trilogy.

harrow the ninth is about the horror of nothing changing -- the grim, unending slog of mental illness, the inexorable method in madness grinding along, grinding you down, moment upon moment; it's about how grief can seem to create its own pockets of eternity. it's about how some things can only be remembered in forgetting.

nona the ninth is about the horror of everything changing all the time forever -- the people you love, until they aren't quite the people you loved any more, the places you love, until it's become somewhere you can never go back to, the world, every day -- you, until you die one way or another, in truth or in no longer recognizing yourself. you go to school for the hour of science and noodle every day, until one day you just don't anymore, and nothing can be done about that. nona is about 'life is too short, and love is too long', but also 'you can't take 'loved' away'. pyrrha, who's tried for ten thousand years to kill her feelings but "Don't worry, kiddie. I'll keep loving you -- my problem is I don't know how to stop." even when it just hurts us, we love. we just can't help ourselves. and at the end alecto remembers herself (itself?), which means forgetting nona.

the strange paradoxical comfort of madness vs. the unbearable loneliness of sanity. harrow is mad, and for all her suffering it keeps her from having to face the most inconceivable, the thing she can't live with: a universe without gideon. cam and pal are so so sane, and they can't bear it. they die to live in a way they can... uh, well, live with, and it's a crazy thing to do but it's the kindest thing they could find for themselves. the world of harrow the ninth is so dead and deadened, and the world of nona is so unbearably alive.

(ironically ntn was a much more difficult read for me than htn, because the way htn works is already so close to how my own mind works (yes, unfortunately, really. no, I'm not okay, but not in a way anyone can do anything about with any immediacy so let's ignore that for now lol). I understand the logic of it intimately, for all it looks confusing if you just see the surface. but the ongoing nature of the restless dread in ntn -- the way you love these people, and through the book they keep drifting away from you so steadily and gradually that you can't even put your finger on exactly when you really lost them as they were at the beginning. at the end, when pyrrha is carrying nona because she can't stand anymore (carrying her in 'the halo of her arms'...... god. yes, that is what a parent feels like for a child huh), I vicariously felt what I suspect is pyrrha's train of thought as well that like... what if you could just hold her close enough, love her hard enough, that she won't have to go, that she could get to live. what if you could just refuse to let go of her, what if you could be strong enough for that. and one person in this universe is that strong-- why would you let someone go -- away from you -- untouchable? John's obsession with being able to touch his loved ones, except he's so profoundly fucked up he doesn't understand any way to do it but to make them into extensions of himself, to consume them and transform them into himself, the very hungry caterpillar style -- he wanted to touch so he made them his hands, and he doesn't understand why it doesn't fulfil him. and thank god pyrrha has the soul and sense to understand why you can't just eat what you love, narrowly, but I still wanted her to be able to still hold nona and protect her from everything including death so fucking bad, and of course she can't. that's the tragedy of it, that's the beauty of it. love doesn't change anything, and we just can't help but love anyway, and it changes everything, and it's all we can do sometimes. fuck I'm going to need a lot of lying face down on the floor for a few hours to process this book huh lmao)

#nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #the locked tomb spoilers #nona spoilers #the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #tl;dr: nona the ninth fucked me up okay don't look at me lol #harrow the ninth is still my favourite of the series because that book recognized me in a way few other things have #but muir is Doing Some Shit in ntn holy fuck #the locked tomb meta #I'm. I'm going to go have a shower to calm down probably I think haha

1K notes · View notes

do-not-fearr · 5 months

Text

Arachnophobia - Eevrid the Drider

Pairing: Drider x f!Reader

Wordcount: 4668 words

Tags: Blindfolds, bondage, body worship

Summary: As someone with terrible arachnophobia you decide to try your friends recommendation of "exposure therapy" with an aquaintance of her, who is a Drider.

Ever since you were a child you had debilitating arachnophobia. Every time you'd see the teensiest spider you'd panic, having to ask someone else to get rid of said spider. It was a little pathetic, and now that you were an adult you were ready to get over this fear already.

"I know what you need," a friend said to you one day, after you yelled at a small spider on the table you were sitting at, and multiple eyes had been on you and your friend. "Exposure therapy."

"Exposure therapy." You deadpanned back. As if you hadn't thought of that yet. You were much too scared to be able to try something like that. "You must overestimate me here. Did you already forget what happened just now?"

She took a sip of her drink, nodding sagely. "That's exactly why. The spider just now was tiny, harmless, and you yelled like you just got bit by a snake."

"Yeah, yeah... rub it in." Came your mumble. You were aware that your panic wasn't proportionate and drew attention from others.

"Don't worry so much. I have just the plan."

You rolled your eyes. "And what would that be?"

She leaned forward over the table, and started speaking in a hush hush voice. "I have an acquaintance who could really help you with this sort of thing."

"Oh?"

"He's a Drider."

Fear coursed through you. Though you had never come into contact with the supernatural yourself, you knew of their existence. If there was one being you'd never ever want to come into contact with it was the infamous Drider. "You're insane." She was either joking or crazy. There was no way you would go through with this.

"Well, yes, I'm friends with you!" she joked, and grabbed her phone, looking through it until she found what she was looking for. She turned the screen towards you and you pointedly ignored it. "Just look, it's just his face. No spidery details to be seen. Well... more or less."

Anxiously you managed to take a peek, and she was right. The image did not scare you... as a matter of fact it had quite the opposite effect. On her screen was a picture of a grey skinned man with long white hair and multiple eyes, his mouth was a little strangely shaped, but other than that he was very normal looking. Moreover... he was absolutely breath taking.

"Oh," you said, and she chuckled at your reaction.

"I know! And he's such a sweetheart too! Remember last year when I was lost during cave diving? He's the one that saved me then. We've been friends ever since, and I'm sure he'll agree to curing your fears with a little talking. In your case just being around him will cure you of your arachnophobia in no time flat I'm sure!"

Yeah, you doubted it, but she was right about the fact that something needed to be done about your fear.

"I'll ask him about it and see if he's okay with it. What do you say? Should I give him your number so he can contact you?"

----

It was just a couple of days later that you got your first message. It was a little awkward, both of you having been brought together by your crazy common friend, but he seemed to be down with helping you. His name was Eevrid, and he agreed to the two of you first just talking through text before you'd go into the whole "exposure therapy" as your friend had called it.

"I don't go out much," he said one day when you were talking about hobbies. "Most humans don't take kindly to the supernatural, let alone one with a spider body."

You felt a little bad about it, knowing that you would probably be the first to scream if you'd see a Drider in real life. Your friend was right, you needed to do something about this phobia, if only so that you wouldn't be a dick to him and his race because of something irrational as a fear.

Talking to Eevrid was nice, comforting even. And as you went from texting to calling over the phone you realised you were looking forward to your talks. His voice was soft and soothing, and sometimes you found yourself lost in daydreams thinking about his profile picture. A feeling of wanting to meet him in real life started to grow in you, despite the fear that grew in proportion to your longing. You knew what his face looked like... but his lower body was still a mystery to you. You had looked up pictures of Driders, but found it too difficult to look for long, the images bringing out the same fear as the real thing probably would. The lines between friendship and something more seemed to blur with every message, and with it grew your want to meet him. He hadn't asked you yet, knowing about your troubles, but there were definitely moments where he let it show through his words that he really wanted to meet you as well.

Then again... that's what you started talking for. For you to meet him, to get over your fear... You decided to take the step and asked him over the phone one day, if there was a way you could meet him. He seemed ecstatic as the both of you spoke about where best to meet.

And here you were, on your way to Eevrid, your Drider online friend that was going to help you with your phobia. Although you were worried he was just going to make it worse by... being himself. Despite your fears you had decided to meet at his place, since not many places openly accepted the supernatural so willingly yet. It hurt. Hurt extra when you realised you were probably one of the reasons Driders like Eevrid were shunned from mayor establishments, but you put it in the back of your mind for now. Next time you'd find a place both of you could enjoy together. Or maybe next time would be your place. Whatever the case, right now it was at his place, and you were shaking with anticipation.

Or fear.

Maybe both.

And as you knocked on the door to his house; a surprisingly normal door inside of a cave-like wall straight out of a fantasy your hands shook almost violently. As soon as the last echo of the knock ran out your hands were behind you back, grasped together as if to not show your nerves.

You almost yelped when "I'm coming" came from inside in Eevrid's calming voice, followed by the door opening and a head poking out.

"H-hi," you said, nerves easing slightly at the kind but slightly anxious smile that was shown on his handsome face as he saw you standing there, "I'm here."

His anxious smile vanished, a genuine, warm laugh escaping him at your stuttering, and he replied: "Yes, I'm glad you are. Welcome inside."

You made your way indoors, forcing yourself to look anywhere except Eevrid's lower body. Why was this so hard? You really, genuinely liked Eevrid, and his presence was both soothing and exciting you, and yet- the thought of him being a Drider still absolutely filled you with fear.

If he noticed you not looking at him properly, he didn't let it show, opting instead to give you a small tour of his house. It was small, sparsely decorated, and in your humble opinion could use a woman's touch... which was a train of thought you instantly cut off. Everything about it did felt like him though, and you smiled slightly at all the cosiness of the space.

When the room tour ended in his bedroom both of you just stood there, a little awkwardly. The bed that was in the middle of the room was more like a nest of blankets and pillows and if it was half as comfortable as it looked it had the potential to cure anyone's insomnia.

"Well," he said, and you looked over, feeling like a high school girl seeing the room of her crush. Well, it wasn't far off the mark. Sadly when you looked over to him you finally did what you were avoiding; looking at his lower body, and a small high pitched sound escaped your throat, barely swallowed when you realized you were being extremely rude.

He instantly made himself small, legs curling up under him in an attempt to make you more comfortable, which, ironically, had the opposite effect. Your fists balled tightly, bringing them close to your chest as you managed to remain rooted on the spot without running.

"It's- I'm sorry- I tried to-" you stuttered, adrenaline coursing through you as you tried to keep your breathing to a normal level. He remained in place, almost reaching for you when he saw your reaction, but thankfully realizing in time that would probably make the situation worse.

It hurt, he couldn't deny that, but the both of you were aware of your fear, and your reaction was honestly a lot less intense than he'd feared when he had gone over the day in his mind multiple times.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, and you felt yourself relax a bit as you focused on the sound of his voice and his face. "We knew this would happen, and there's no shame in going about this slowly."

You nodded, slowly feeling your breath even out, and letting your eyes move down his face to his chest, lower... your breath hitched again as you quickly brought your eyes back up to his face where you found him smiling softly.

"How about I get something to drink for you while you calm down, hm? Maybe we can come up with some ideas to keep this fun and light hearted as we sit and talk. And who knows, maybe we'll figure out how to cure your arachnophobia as we go!"

You nodded. You really, really wanted to get over your fear as soon as possible. Eevrid was too nice for you to have a reaction like this to him, it was rude and uncalled for, and you cursed your own cowardice as you saw him leave to make you some tea. Slowly you followed him to the living room where you sat down on a human-sized chair. He told you he had friends over sometimes, that's why some furniture was more catered to you as a human and other more to him as a Drider.

As you heard his soft footfalls you turned towards him and had to stifle your laugh as he had covered his lower body with a blanket. It looked so goofy, as if he was wearing an enormous lumpy wedding dress, and when he said: "It looks stupid doesn't it?" with a slight blush you couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

"It does," you said honestly, "But I really appreciate the gesture."

It really worked though, and as you sat, drank tea and talked, you realized how comfortable you were with him. It was exactly the same as through text, and as you looked at him you realized he felt the same. Until he stumbled over the wedding dre- no, blanket, and you panicked to see him tumbling trying to not stumble over all 8 of his legs.

"It's not really helping isn't it..." you pondered, and saw him nod apologetically, as if he was the problem and not you. "It's also not helping me get over my fear. How about..." you were quiet a bit, knowing where you wanted to go with this sentence, but feeling a little silly. He looked at you expectantly. Honestly he really wanted to help you with your fear, both for you and for him. He just really wanted to be able to be closer to you without scaring you off... his body yearned for yours, contact with you not only mentally.

You cleared your throat and continued with a small blush on your face. "How about I use a blindfold? That way I can maybe touch you without the visual fear and that way I might easier get over my fear?"

It was said more as a question, it sounded more stupid than you thought the longer the sentence went on, but you saw him nod seriously.

"That might work," he said, willing to try, and instantly grabbing a clean hand towel to use as a makeshift blindfold. You chuckled awkwardly as he fastened it gently, asking a "Is it alright? Not too tight?", and feeling you nod in return.

"Okay," you said, carefully reaching out your hand to him and feeling him grab it in one of his. It was large, strong and slightly cool, but a blush instantly ignited on your face as you felt him squeeze it a bit at your words. "I'm going to touch you now, is that okay?"

You heard nothing for a little bit, and when you tilted your head at him inquisitively you heard him chuckle a little, sounding embarrassed as he said: "I'm sorry, you can't see me nod right now. Yes, I'm okay, do what you want."

His permission made you instantly jolt into motion, one hand still squeezing his' as you other slowly moved upwards to his chest to start your fear conquering path onwards to his 8 legs.

"Tell me if you don't like it, okay?" You mumbled as you hand slowly mapped out his upper, humanlike body. His pecs were hard, but different from a well build human. The skin itself felt tougher to the touch, as far as you could tell through his clothes, and you hummed as you slowly ran your fingers over his abs, stopping short of his crotch. You were really only doing this to get over your fear. Of course...

However now that you had started touching him you felt your blush deepen. What you were doing suddenly hit you like a pile of bricks. You were blindfolded, feeling him up under the guise of getting over your fear. A small sound escaped him.

"I, uh," you removed your hand as if stung.

"I'm sorry," Eevrid said, "Was it too much? Are you scared?"

Scared? Right now you were far from it. Your hand itched to be touching him again, and you replied with a negative. "Can I... can I touch your legs now?" The words came out in a squeak, the concept still scaring you, but you wanted to touch him all over now, and if there was ever a moment you might get over your fear it was under the influence of your arousal that was growing more insistent with every touch you laid on him.

"Of course." He said, his voice sounding a little husky to your ears, and you felt your hand tremble as he slowly took it to put it on one of his many legs. It trembled with you, but only for a second as you let out a small sound of both fear and excitement.

It was slightly coarse, but much softer than you expected, and it felt a lot less scary than it looked. You let your fingers run over the tickly hairs, running a hand up and down the appendage, slowly getting used to the idea that Eevrid had a lower body that was basically a giant spider without the visuals of such. Slowly your hand reached the part where leg met abdomen, and you curiously let your eager fingers glide across, feeling a small shiver go through his body under your ministrations. Another sound left Eevrid, almost imperceptible to your ears had it not been absolutely quiet in the room save for your beating heart and both of your breaths that had picked up significantly. The sound was unmistakable now; it seemed this little game had an effect on both of you, and you couldn't help but smirk as you let your hands wander to what you assumed were less innocent spots.

"Ah, y/n," he warned, "If you go there I don't know if I can stop myself."

It sounded less like a warning to you, and more like a promise. "Stop yourself from what?" You said cheekily as you ran your hand square of the front of his body, where spider met human in a transition of coarse hair to hard exoskeleton to soft skin.

A hand grabbed yours to stop it, a small chuckle coming from Eevrid at your actions as he pulled your hand away.

"I've taken away your sight, should I take away your ability to tease?"

"Oh? Are you going to tie me up then?" came from you, you were giddy with your earlier fear and your current arousal, and so very willing to take this a step further. The blindfold had really helped so far, and if just touching him innocently had worked you up this much you wondered how much better him touching you would make you feel. "I can still tease you verbally though." you chuckled as you felt his fingers run softly over your wrists, still waiting for your permission.

"Not if I do this-" he muttered, much closer than you expected his voice to be. Strange lips pressed against you the next second in a kiss that instantly deepened when you gasped in surprise. A thin tongue invaded your mouth and you moaned as it met yours, tangling in a sensual dance as he pushed your body back with insistent but gentle motions.

"Where are you taking me?" escaped you between passionate kisses, almost stumbling over something on the floor, and he decided to just lift you up and carry you.

"Bed," he replied, nipping your lips one last time before putting you down on a soft surface you realized was the nest of pillows and blankets you'd seen earlier. It was as comfortable as you'd thought and you sighed as you nestled further into it, reaching your arms up to Eevrid who you imagined was above you.

You felt his abdomen again, but before you could reach for what you hoped was his crotch he had grabbed your greedy hands again. He tutted, shaking his head at you though you could not see it.

"I told you what I was planning to do with these naughty hands, didn't I?"

A giggle from you was his reply, and a "Well, what are you waiting for then?"

He muttered something that sounded like "You asked for it", as you felt a silky kind of rope wrap around your wrists, pulling them up over your head, stopping you from moving them. You wondered if it was his webbing, which made the whole ordeal simply more exotic and more intimate to you somehow. You tested the restraints with a harsh pull. They felt deceivingly soft, but they held sturdy.

You felt the bed indent around you, a shadow falling over you which was the only thing you could make out through the blindfold.

"It's time I return the favour," Eevrid said, sounding high above you, but his next words were much closer as you realized he was now hovering right over your prone body. "Where do you want me to touch first?"

A slightly cool hand landed on your legs, and you jolted, feeling him squeeze your thigh through your jeans.

"How about this tiny leg of yours. You might not have many, but they make up for it in squishiness."

You let out a squeak. Realization of your subconscious action of opening your legs to him came a second after and you blushed a scarlet red. You were throbbing in your panties, wishing he'd take your clothes off already and touch your skin directly, but you didn't get to voice this thought before he spoke again.

"It's a bit unfair you got to touch my skin directly and I can't though..." he muttered, fingers running down the length of your legs, squeezing the fat occasionally as you shivered under him. "I think it's time to remove the barrier, hm?"

His teasing words made you groan, and open your legs a little wider. You couldn't see his face, or what he was doing, and your ears strained for any and all sounds that would indicate his actions or the sounds he was making. The occasional sigh that came from his as you felt his hands slowly undo the button to your jeans and sliding them down your legs made your insides throb. Your socks came with it, but he sadly left your panties in place as you wiggled your hips at him.

His fingers were now on your skin without any fabric in between, and he ran one finger from the slope of your belly, over your covered core, over your thighs all the way to your toes, where the tickling feeling made you retreat your foot quickly with a small giggle replacing your earlier moan.

"I've always thought human legs were silly looking, but now that I have your feet uncovered I am completely validated in my opinion. What even are these?" he said teasingly as he grabbed one of your toes to wiggle as you tried to no avail to remove your feet from his tickling fingers.

"Stop," you giggled, trying to get your hands free to push him away, but the webbing held you in place. This teasing only lasted for a second before he started a different kind of teasing. A gentle kiss was placed on the top of your foot as he ran his hands up your calf, moving his lips up to kiss a trail up to your knee only to start on your second leg. This time he slowly moved up your thighs, alternating between the two as he started nipping and licking his way up to your core while you tried to keep your noises and whining to a minimum.

“Eevrid,” you whined, “Stop teasing me…”

A chuckle was your reply as you felt his lips curl in a smile against your stomach now, skipping your core entirely as he moved his way up.

“I can’t help it,” he said, “You’re just too cute.” Your shirt was pulled up over your head, pushed up to your hands that were still bound as he first kissed the skin around your bra before undoing it slowly and finally lavishing your breasts with ample attention. Your back arched as you tried to move yourself closer to him, body shivering under his ministrations as you whined for him to stop teasing and get to the main event.

“Please, I need you inside me,” you gasped as he pulled on a nipple with his teeth, overstimulating the sensitive skin as you weren’t sure if you wanted to pull away or push closer. You wish you could feel him against your core, but he kept himself away from you, only touching you with his hands, lips and tongue. He removed himself from your left breast as he retreated from your upper body. Unsure of his next action you let out a pathetic whine, thrusting your hips up to him as if to invite.

A curse came from above you, as he mumbled. “I wanted to take my time tasting and worshipping you, but I don’t think I have the patience anymore.”

“Then don’t,” you groaned, “Give in and fuck me already.” You were so ready for him, throbbing and leaking, and if you didn’t feel him inside you anytime soon you were going to scream. Your wish was granted as seemingly out of nowhere you felt weight on your thighs again, the only indication that he was close before something hot and throbbing finally rutted against your wanting pussy. The sound you let out was almost pornographic, and it almost made you miss the groan he let out as he finally ended the sweet torture for himself and you.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, and you didn’t even reply. Of course you were. You had been soaked for seemingly hours now, desperate for him.

His dick bumped against your clit and you practically growled at him to put it in, words underlined by a sharp thrust upwards that lined him up almost perfectly with your opening. His chuckle at your impatience devolved into a hiss as he finally pushed in, and if you weren’t blindfolded you would’ve seen his eyes roll back as he slid in all the way to the hilt. He was filling you so well, stretching you perfectly as your greedy walls milked him for all he was worth. He slowly pulled out before pushing in again, the rhythm slow but steady as you were almost unable to hear the small groans he let out over your own moans. Everything he did to you was so gentle and filled with love. All earlier fear was completely removed from your brain, no matter what he looked like. And when a slightly rough leg joined his hands in the caress of your body you leaned into it without thoughts, forgetting entirely why you were afraid in the first place if every touch felt so good.

Lips were suddenly against your mouth and you kissed him back with the same desperation that had permeated your actions all day. You had wanted him when you were only just texting and calling, and you realised now that you were finally making love how big that want was exactly.

Your hips snapped against his, legs trying to pull him closer, almost forgetting about his lower body’s width when you tried to wrap them around him. He kissed you again, muttering apologies but for what you weren’t sure. His pace picked up and you shivered in his arms.

You monad his name as if it was a chant, and begged him to remove your blindfold so you could see him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, hands suddenly not so sure as you felt them shiver slightly when they touched the blindfold that was still covering your eyes.

“Yes!” You keened as you felt yourself hurdling towards orgasm with his faster pace. “I want to see all of you! I can handle it.” The words almost made no sense as you tried to speak between your gasps, but he understood either way, removing the cloth quickly as if removing a bandaid.

Your eyes were unfocused, tears in the corners, threatening to fall and for a second Eevrid was afraid it had been too soon, but when he saw no fear or rejection in them, only love and desperation for him he kissed you again, a smile on his face. A hand went down to tease your clit, but the moment he made contact you already exploded, contracting around him so hard he had to stop for a second, groan escaping his gritted teeth. You were so beautiful, so small under him, and he couldn’t hold on either, rutting into you sloppily a couple more times before pulling out and releasing as well. White ropes splattered over your stomach, as your name fell from his lips in such loving desperation you almost orgasmed again from his voice and the visual of his face as he came.

Slowly both of you came down from your heights, Eevrid slowly undoing the webbing around your hands as he kissed the skin under it gently. Your eyes were on him, the way he moved around so gently, making sure not to step on you with his many legs despite his size.

And suddenly you were so glad you took this chance to overcome your phobia. You might still be afraid of an everyday spider, but not of Eevrid. Never of Eevrid. Your newly released arms reached out, pulling him closer to you as you kissed him again, muttering thanks and little nothings to him as he cleaned you with the same reverent gentleness he had displayed all day.

Your heart seemingly grew in size when you realised you had gone from fear to love, and with a content sigh you curled up against him as he pulled a large blanket over the both of you.

#drider x reader #spider creature #monster x reader #terato #monsterfucking #smut #nsft #x y/n #x reader

99 notes · View notes

tearsonthemoons · 3 months

Text

Talk to me - part one

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄༻✦༺⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Warning: (none) pure fluff.

Pairing: Finnick Odair x chubby reader

promt: You've always liked finnick odair, even before his reaping. while running into him while headed to the district market, you discover just how intense he makes you feel. (Multiple part story with a thick plot line.)

Finnick Odair, every girl in every districts boy crush, including mine.

My unfair advantage came with my look, I wasn't exactly what people would see as beautiful, quite the opposite of sex appeal. Though now it really is hard to be considered something appealing to the capital's eyes, or a handsome boy in our district. Finnick couldn't relate, he’s what every boy wants to look like and what every girl wants to get their hands on.

I had fallen victim of his charm.

I was a tough girl though, I never let boys get in the way. Then again, I’ve never ran into a situation where i needed to try and prevent this either.

I have never been chased by a boy, never desired. I'm not a capital jewel, or even a pretty district girl. Somehow even being short of food, my body seemed bigger than the average girl in my district, or any district. I have larger arms, wider hips, and my thighs weren't small by any means either, I never do feel ashamed of my body, It's not like i'll be showing it off to anyone.

"Y/n?" I heard my mother call, interrupting my thoughts. I'm sure she was just planning to send to into the town to sell off her pearls for something to put on the table. I was already lacing up my boots in preparation for the 3 miles of walking i'd have to do.

I walk down the hall and greet my tired mother with a small peck on the cheek. "On it." I say pushing through our faulty door and heading my usual direction into the town.

With each step I took through the forest on the patchy trial, Finnick was in my mind, Though he had won the hunger games for our district at only 14, he’s never failed to come back home from his capitol "duties", Were older now though, no longer teenagers, he has more freedom of where he calls home. I never knew finnick well enough to talk about him in depth, unless it was about his alluring looks anyways. In school he was typically pulling pranks on other students and teachers, but he never did get in trouble, It was probably his manners, he was always kind, despite being a little wild.

I remember being 12 years old, walking this same path home, only I had company, with this kind boy, finnick, no particular reason, he just happened to be talking my ear off the whole time, whether it was about fish he could catch, or how he liked the color of my hair. I enjoyed his presence, He only did walk with me a few more time after that, I wasn't too cooperative to the talking part, I never even told him my true name, "What's your name then?" he said, I smiled, and that was all. Then all of a sudden I was "Bugs".

I sure it was because of my beetle charm, but he never did specify why he had called me this.

By the time these thoughts had consumed my mind, I was a but over halfway there, passing my old school already, each step crushed with the sounds of leafs. It was chilly out, the wind was blowing my hair in my face, I was thankful for the scarf my mother made me wear on my way. The crunching of the leafs were soothing my ears. Until I began to hear the crunches follow behind me. Who was there? was I being followed? robbed? I came to a quick turn expecting to be frightened, but to my surprise, the blonde headed boy who was in my thoughts all this time was following behind me.

what was finnick doing here?

I headed a bit towards him, a friendly smile was on his face, or maybe a devious smirk, I really couldn't tell. "Hey there." he said taking steps closer to me, I was able to identify his smile, it was devious.

I almost didn't respond to him like I didn't all those years ago, but his greeting was to alluring to avoid. My heart nearly left my chest, "Hi" I said with a smile back. All I could manage to get out was that before I turned around keeping myself on my same path to my destination, still being slightly ahead of him.

I heard him speed up a bit to walk beside me, his tall and broad frame next to me was enough to understand why so many girls wanted him. Handsome is all I can say. "Headed to town?" he said turning his body to mine, still keeping the same pace as before. a smile on his face as he looked at me. "Yes, trading pearls for my mother." I said holding out the pretty pearl in my hand for him to see. It was strange having finnick odair, capitals charmer walking with me into the town, but then again, we've called the same place home for years, it's not like he's lost or anything.

"Pretty pearls you got their Bug." he said with a slight giggling placing the pearl back into my hand, I stopped in my tracks realizing he had recognized me. Why did he recognize me? Some random girl that ignored him on his way home from school? It wasn't adding up and I tried to piece it together shooting him a puzzled look. "You remember me?" I said with a near stutter in my voice, furrowing my brows a bit more as he shared a chuckle out loud, his smile lines complimenting his oddly white teeth.

"Hmm" he said turning to walk again, "How could I forget that pretty hair." he said with another laugh, It was almost sarcastic. even if he was being sarcastic, at least he remembered me, because he's been stuck in my mind since I first formed my crush on him at only 12. I turn and continue to walk with him, a few moments of silence and crunching leafs consume my ears. I was waiting for him to talk to me again, or think of something I could say to him, but it was just quite, aside from his little whistle he kept repeating.

"I'm going to donate my fish to the market today, join me?" he said as we took our last few steps into the town, It was a relief he had invited me, though I had things to do, I'm sure a few more minutes in the towns wouldn't uphold my mother's dinner plan to much. besides, what harm could a nice even with Finnick do?

I can't help but smile a bit, bringing his face to look at mine. "Why not." I say following him further. Surely a few more minutes with him wouldn't delay my mother's dinner plans to terribly.

We make our final approaching steps reaching an old ladies market, she typically trade shiny goods for meats, but Finnick wasn't trading, just offering. "Here you are lilith." he said placing what seemed to be a small bag of trouts in front of the old lady, her hands were shaking as she pulled out a shiny locket from her pocket. I had recognized this jewel, She's always had it on displayed, offered to me for food a few times, I was never able to take no matter how pretty I thought it was. I looked back at finnick, a smile on his face as he shook his head at the old woman, for a second I forgot that finnick probably had endless supplies of these pretty lockets. "For free lilith, Keep it." he said closing the locket in her hands, the woman shook her head back at him in response. "Take it dear, there's no harm." she said trying to hand it to him, my eyes were obviously glued to the pretty necklace, but I was distracted enough to see him actually take it from the woman though, I looked over at him, his eyes were darting back and forth from the necklace to my neck.

"Okay lilith, but only for the lady." He said kissing her hand and sharing a soft smile with her. I could feel the warmth of my face forming a pink color on my cheeks, I looked at him not only being so nice to this woman, but receiving me a necklace I've wanted for years. I smile at him as we leave the old women's booth.

"For you." he said holding the necklace up, dangling in front of my eyes, I drank in its golden beauty. "Thank you Finnick." I said gently grabbing it from him, my fingers tracing over the flower detail on the necklace capsule, it was almost shiney enough to see my reflection in it. He had his hands behind his back now, watching me admire it.

"Here, let me." he said taking the necklace back in his hand and walking behind me. I could feel my stomach form knots, tight ones, seeing him disappear behind me, I pulled my longish hair up in my hands, allowing his to go around my neck, gently picking up the other end of the necklace, his hand faintly touching the crook of my neck, It was enough to send shivers now my spine. I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck now, I wonder if he could see the goosebumps on my neck. the locket fell down over my scarf, It was beautiful. Finnick was back in front of me with a smile, hands on the base of the locket. "Pretty, isn't it?" he said looking back up at me.

I could tell the seconds of my delayed response nearly made it obvious how I was feeling, his lips being slightly parted and his eyes wide in expression made me want to kiss him. I've never wanted to kiss a boy this way before. I couldn't say anything, just stare. A cough came through his throat interrupting my thoughts. "Here." he said unraveling my scarf from my neck gently, my hair fell onto my shoulders, the necklace falling down decently low, resting right above my chest. "Very pretty." he said smiling quickly before turning away from my face walking towards the direction of another booth, me tagging along. Was he talking about the necklace alone? or the necklace on me? was all that was running through my mind. my scarf was still in his hands, him holding onto it for me. I was swooning, my eyes trying their best to not stare at him.

When we arrive at the booth, I pick up some bread to eat for dinner, the pearl didn't get too much, but this would still feed us. We walk toward the path we took to get here, not saying anything since his compliment to the necklace he got me. I start to walk down the path and notice hes standing still not trying to follow.

"This is where I'm off." he said smiling down at me. A disappointment filled me, Even in silence, I liked spending time with him. "You aren't coming?" I said causing his smile to fade a bit. "Not today." he said slightly defeated. I smile at him, "Thank you." I said with another almost stutter in my voice. "I've always wanted this necklace, thank you finnick." I said, I wanted to give him a hug, something was drawing me to him, but I just sat there not being able to. "I'm glad you like it." he said, his soft laugh teasing at my heart again. We both smile at this, I know I looked like a love smitten fool at this point, like all those pretty district girl would look at him even if he were to just walk by.

"Bye now." I said turning away and walking down the path a few steps more.

"Bye!" he shouted a bit so I would hear him, the smile on my face growing bigger than it has all day, now that I was hidden from his frontal few, I had nothing to try and hide. The walk home was slow and boring, finnicks pretty smile and warm eyes on my mind all the way until I walked through my wooden door.

"You're back late" my mom said receiving the bread from my hands and putting it down on our dining table. The smile hadn't left my face just yet, leaving her to notice it. "What's that about?" she said with a soft grin, nuding my shoulder.

"Nothing important, just ran into an old friend." I said sitting down at the dining table with her, cutting the bread with the knife I had stored away in my jeans.

"Just a friend." I whispered, her eyes on my locket. "Your friend sure does like you if he happened to get you that expensive necklace, that thing could get us all kinds of bread and meat." She said pulling the necklace into her cold hands.

I stopped chewing to look at her again, "Well, this one's not for sale." I said pulling it from her hands, gently holding it in mine. "hm." left her lips, I could tell by the suspicion in her eye's that she might have figured out it wasn't someone I wanted to call a friend.

"We'll seen then." she said smiling while getting up from her chair. "You do need to go back tomorrow anyways." she said.

I didn't respond, only a sense of excitement filling my gut, maybe I would see him again.

Maybe I could truly thank him.

Word count: 3.3k

#coriolanus fluff #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #peeta mellark x reader fluff #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x y/n #finnick imagine #finnick odair #finnick x reader #the hungergames #thg finnick #finnick odair fluff #finnick fluff #sam claflin

73 notes · View notes