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naomihatake · 7 months

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In search of freedom (Ch. 1)

1. They're bad news

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa. This chapter follows the events of the first episode.

Warnings for this chapter: physical violence (fights), mentions of deaths, fluff, some cursing, mentions of tarot and palm readings

Word count: 3,6k

Theme song: “Loreley” by Blackmore's Night (click on the link)

A/N: This is the first part of a fanfiction I was thinking of since first watching One Piece Live Action. I started the anime too and I'm around episode 64 already. I'm using the OPLA course of action for now and I have no idea for an ending, but enough scenarios to write and share. I don't know how far this will go, but I'll have fun writing it and considering how much I like Zoro (born anime and LA), I'm using both of them as inspiration. Sorry for the lack of interaction between reader and Zoro, but I promise things will change.

The reader will be referred to as "Witch" especially in the next chapter, because I have no intentions of using "Y/N". There will be more information revealed about her past and abilities in the next chapter.

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

"Excuse me," she smiled sweetly while swaying away from someone who was standing right in front of her and a table she had to serve for. "Here," she carefully let the plates down.

She received a large smile coming from the young man with dark curls and a straw hat hanging around his neck. His pink haired companion seemed very shy, barely glancing at her before looking back at his plate, thanking in a small voice.

The tavern buzzed with a peaceful energy in the late hours of morning, the big windows letting the warm rays of sun in, lighting up the place. There were men sitting at a few tables, no sign of any other woman except for her and the very owner of that place, who just finished cooking something — were those cookies? It smelled divine.

Her dress fluttered around her knees as she moved away from their table to take other orders, a strand of her hair falling against her cheek after running around for so long. When she finally stopped in her tracks by the bar, intense eyes searched for anyone else who might've needed something. Lucky for her, she could finally breathe for a few seconds, resting her hips against the bar.

However, her eyes fell on the tall figure who just chugged down his throat a shot of alcohol. His green hair made her frown to herself, looking away before she could get caught ogling some stranger. After a few seconds, she looked at him again, this time at the three swords resting against his hip.

Three swords? What can someone do with three swords?

Everyone probably had the same question whenever they saw him for the first time. However, he felt somehow familiar, as if she's heard of someone like that before. A pirate? No, wait, a pirate hunter? The owner told her of so many things and so many people it was impossible to remember each one of them, but she was pretty sure she mentioned some pirate hunter only a few days ago.

Her thought process was interrupted when a man with blonde hair and suit walked by in front of her. Considering the men dressed in white uniforms who entered with him, they must be marines and he was probably their superior — he was walking like he owned the entire port.

She held back from rolling her eyes in annoyance. Her thoughts ran back to what her friend said about pirates last time, the way they argued back and forth about how pirates aren't good. However, she had her own reasons for claiming that not all pirates were ruthless monsters, without elaborating.

She flinched lightly when she heard the thud of a metal plate falling on the floor, snapping her head towards a little girl who was stuttering apologies to the blonde man. Her eyebrows were pulled together at his angry and loud voice mocking the child who had tears in her eyes, fear seeping through her very bones at the exaggerated reaction.

Apparently, they knocked into each other. Oh, there were two cookies on the floor. One of them got crushed under the man's foot.

She smoothly made her way by the side of the little girl, smiling at her as she crouched down to her level.

"Is everything alright, little one? Did you apologize?" the woman's hand squeezed the girl's shoulder warmly.

Rika's only response was a nod.

"Good job. It's alright, I'll help you clean up. Why don't you bring me a broom, hm?" she coaxed the girl with a gentle voice.

Once the girl walked away, she stood up straight again, arching her eyebrow questionably at the arrogant man by her side.

"Is there anything else I could help you with?"

"What, are you working here? If the answer's positive, then you better teach those stupid kids some manners," he huffed.

"You should teach yourself how to behave," she commented right back, her sharp gaze sizing him up and down.

"Take that back. Next time I won't be so nice," the blonde marine grinned.

Oh, and what an ugly grin it was on that fucker's face.

"You dropped my food," a low voice from behind interrupted.

The young woman turned her head towards the voice, confusion written on her face as she made a few steps back, out of his way. It was the green haired man she noticed earlier, now sitting on one of his knees on the cold floor.

Rika came back with a broom almost twice her size, the object quickly taken from her hold by the woman who smiled at her again. While they exchanged glances, the pirate hunter let himself down on one of his knees, taking some of the crushed cookie into his palm.

A sly smile tugged at the woman's lips. A pirate hunter or not, he had more dignity than a marine even in that kneeling position. She was more satisfied to see the little one smiling.

"Your turn," the green-haired man lowered his voice, a dark glare thrown at the astonished marine.

The pirate hunter raised back up and placed the metal plate on the bat, his intimidating height against the arrogant blonde monkey in front of him telling enough.

"Apologize to the girl," he demanded in a relaxed tone.

"Me? It was her fault for bumping into me. The lady should apologize for disrespecting me."

Apologize, my ass, she thought to herself, one step away from bursting out laughing. What did he take her for?

"Do you want a fight or what?" he drew his sword out, a knowing grin curled on his face. "I don't need three swords to fight."

The woman looked down at the little girl who was still by her side, ruffling her hair.

"Why don't you go to your mother, hm? And stay there until I call you back."

Her stern voice didn't give space for arguing; Rika complied, going to the kitchen.

She heard some muttering and next thing she knew, both of the men in front of her had drawn their swords out. Apparently, the green-haired one decided to advance closer to the marine, in an attempt to keep the fight away from the lady.

Hmph. Swordsmen and their unusual gentlemanly behavior.

Squeezing the broom in between her fingers, she moved away, furrowing her eyebrows in a scowl.

"No fights in here, you jerks!" she scoffed.

Expertly, while the other marines attacked one man — how unethical of them — and swords clashed against each other after sharp whistling noises, the woman swept away the cookies on the floor. She faked doing her own duties, like the good employee that she was, throwing careful glances at the fight happening right next to her. If she wasn't careful enough, she could get sliced in two.

"I advise you to get out of the way," she heard the swordsman's voice growling right after he threw a chair into three men, making them fall to the floor.

"You'll destroy the entire place if I do."

Right after saying those words, without anyone noticing in that damned agitation, with a quick movement of the broom, she made one of the marines trip.

Just like the idiots that they were.

"Oh my god, you should be more careful!" she placed a hand over her lips, fake surprise and fear coloring her features.

Who would believe such an innocent being was capable of such malicious actions?

With a strong creak followed by a thud, one marine was thrown into a table that turned the both of them upside down, groans filled with pain vibrating through the tavern.

She was right about them destroying the place.

However, the commotion didn't cause too much distress to the woman still moving the broom around, acting as if she had business with that newly found weapon. It might not be lethal, but she couldn't be spotted while she was intentionally making the marines' jobs harder. In the month she's been working there, she saw more than just one fight and used everything that she saw fit to stop it — be it a broom or a kitchen knife.

Now that she analyzed the fight better, it seemed like the pirate hunter barely even had to draw his sword out of its scabbard, at some point knocking someone's head into the bar. He used his raw strength and the objects surrounding him, thankfully without destroying any of them. The can he threw into another man's stomach seemed so effortless.

That must've hurt, though.

The blonde marine was quickly pulled by the back of his collar, back colliding with the bar, and an angry swordsman towering over him. She didn't hear anything nor paid attention anymore, eyes focused on the tavern that was ruined only half way through.

She sighed after watching both of the men walking out of there, biting her lower lip to hold back a fit of laughter at the marine who stumbled while being dragged by the bounty hunter.

"Why do men always fight in this tavern?" she talked to herself, raising one of the chairs and putting it back in place. "One day of peace is all I want in this port, only one day, and I can't get even that."

She sighed again, only for that long exhale to get stuck in her throat once her eyes fell on the table that was almost sitting in the opposite way rather than how it should be. Once she approached it, stepping by the marine who was trying to get up.

She would never help someone who had less dignity than a dog following some orders from a brainless monkey. Heck, even those animals were smarter.

Instead, she tried to move the table back in its place. Her fingers were so close to gripping at one side of the table before someone appeared at the opposite side. The young man with a straw hat and a square smile she served only a few minutes ago raised the table by himself, carefully arranging it until he was satisfied with its position.

"Thank you so much for the help," she smiled at him. "Be careful where you step, I think a glass also broke."

There were some shreds on the floor somewhere close to the table the young man sat at earlier.

"Thank you for your concern," he smiled just like the first time.

Gosh, has she ever seen such a beautiful soul? His eyes sparkled and the happiness suited him like it did to a little child who has no clue of the harsh world. However, he didn't seem phased or scared by what happened earlier — his hands weren't shaking at all and there was no fear lingering in his stare.

She turned to take the broom and came closer to his companion, who was sitting under the table. She bent her torso to give him a hand, helping him get back to his feet.

"Careful with the glass, check your hands," she warned again.

"I saw what you did there."

She turned towards the straw hat guy, blinking owlishly at him.

"I don't really get what you mean."

She started sweeping the shred of broken glass, not paying attention to the curious and insistent gaze she was receiving.

"You surely do. I'm Monkey D. Luffy and I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!"

Her eyes widened at the second part of his speech, snapping her head back at him. Without even realizing, her fingers were squeezing the broom quite harshly, fingertips going white.

"That's—" she started in a small voice, blinking like an idiot and staring at him.

She's heard that before. She's heard the same dream before and it brought so much suffering.

"That's dangerous," she finally got the courage to continue, still hesitant.

"You're brave for interfering with their fight."

Luffy looked into her eyes as if he could guess the thoughts running through her head, as if he could read her very soul, drinking in her features and reaction.

"You must've seen wrong," she let out a light chuckle, getting a grip on herself. "I'm just clumsy sometimes."

She was thankful she stopped herself from cussing out the Marines, because in less than a second after she finished her sentence, a few other men dressed in white uniforms appeared to help their comrades back to the base. She casted a skeptical eye at each one of them, like silent warnings.

They were pathetic, some of them still stumbling while trying to get up, their swords thrown around carelessly. After they all disappeared from her sight, her shoulders obviously relaxed again.

"I have to admit I hated each second of staying so much with these idiots around," she huffed quietly. "That spoiled child who takes advantage of his father's status was getting on my nerves."

"That's why you helped that swordsman, right?"

Luffy continued with his supposition, not letting go of what he thought he saw — it was the truth, but it would be dangerous to admit.

"I didn't help anyone, really. That was unintentional."

"Don't press it too much, Luffy," his companion's voice trembled.

"Koby, I know what I saw," Luffy pulled his lips into a straight line.

She resumed what she was doing, sweeping at the pieces of glass, seeing almost each one of them in the light seeping through the window.

"If you want to become King of the Pirates, I suppose you also want to get the One Piece, right?"

She was foolish. She was stupid for asking, for getting herself in such business that somehow always ended with too many deaths, with broken dreams. However, something was nagging in her gut. Deep down, it felt so right to ask.

"Yes! I need the Grand Line map for that and I intend on getting from the Marine Base here."

"You're insane, kid," her shoulders shook with her light laughter.

It was a sour sound.

She stopped, leaning her weight into the broom, looking down at the glass in front of her. She shouldn't help them. She should stay in her place if she wanted those young men to survive. What they were trying to do was basically suicide, they just didn't know. Koby seemed to be more fearful, hesitant and so, so shy. Luffy didn't say "us"; he said "I" — the pink-haired guy was not really part of the plan.

Against better judgment, she raised her head at him, promises sparkling in her eyes just like the shreds of glass.

"You can't just ask for that map and I hope you know that. What you want to get yourself into isn't just dangerous, it's like jumping into a suicide mission," her voice strained, pouring all of her hope in her next words: "However, I can help you get inside. Be careful, you have to make sure no one catches you."

"So I was right about you!" Luffy beamed.

"Right about what?"

"That you're brave."

Her lips opened, but no sound came from between them. It was pointless to deny it when he seemed so stubborn about what he saw and believed.

"I think this is a lot to say about someone who's helping you steal secret maps," the side of her mouth curled upwards.

Koby was left astonished. Stealing from the Marines was suicide.

"Listen here, kid," she lowered her voice, stepping closer to whisper. She set her gaze on Luffy's. "You have to get out of there alive, no matter what. Lie if you have to, but I have a feeling you're very bad at that, so be careful. That isn't a place to fool around in. You could get yourself killed in a blink. The Marines are very sneaky."

"There are good Marines and bad Marines," he shrugged. "Maybe I'll meet someone who's willing to help."

"I like your enthusiasm, but that unit base doesn't fit," she shook her head. "Both Captain Morgan and his son aren't the good kind of people."

She squeezed the broom in between her fingers again, an ugly feeling clawing at her throat. She didn't want a kid to die for following his dreams, but freedom was something she always craved.

"I'll tell you a way to get inside the base from underneath. You have to keep your lips sealed — I don't worry about myself, but about the owner and her daughter. I don't want word spreading around."

"You can count on me!" he placed his hand on his heart, as if he sealed the promise there. "Who are you? I want to know who's helping me."

Damned be his sincerity.

"I'll give you my name after you get out of there alive."

She smiled, eyes sparkling with delicious mischief.

"That is a promise. I'll be around the Marine Base and I'll tell you my name after I see you get out of there alive."

That seemed to stir something in Luffy's soul, inhaling with pride. A man of his word, indeed, just like she thought.

"Deal.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

Her name left the lips of a scolding mother, even if it wasn't her mom.

"I saw you." The second time she heard tthat same phrase in one day.

Annie patted the tip of her shoe against the floor repeatedly.

"I was just lucky enough not to get myself in trouble," she shrugged.

However, her eyes fell on the floor, guilty about getting caught like a deer in the light.

"You could've gotten yourself in big trouble!" the owner of the tavern raised her voice.

Rika pouted up at her mother, trying to sweeten her reaction.

"She just wanted to help, just like—"

"Rika," this time, the scolded one firmly spoke her name. "Don't take me as an idol. It's true that something could have happened."

The little girl shouldn't worry about such a bloody world just yet and she wanted to help it for as long as possible. Being stubborn was a death sentence, even if she would always get herself into trouble if it meant to stick to her principles.

She'd rather die on her feet than live on her knees.

"Just because this time everything was fine, it doesn't mean next time will be the same," Annie exhaled loudly, frowning.

"There won't be a next time," the young woman sank her chin in her chest. "I should leave these days. Soon enough, word will spread out about my tarot and palm readings. I don't want to cause you any more trouble."

"You little witch," the usual scolding was replaced with a warm nickname.

She raised her head again, struggling to smile. Leaving after she got attached always hurt.

"That man was Roronoa Zoro, wasn't it?" Annie asked, her body suddenly tensing.

"Most probably," she shrugged. "Three swords, three earrings. He put on quite a show, to be honest," the words were followed by a chuckle.

"I see the way your eyes are sparkling. Don't even think about getting into some conversation with such a troublesome person."

"What could do some adventure to a poor soul like me?" she teased.

"It could bring you six feet under."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

"I'm no witch, you idiots!" she struggled against the harsh grip the two men had on her arms.

She hissed when one of them sank his fingertips in her upper arms, glaring at him.

Shithead marines.

She continued writhing and struggling, stomping her feet into the ground in an awful attempt to stop them. She intended on keeping her promise after she helped the straw hat sneak into their base. She waited for as long as it was necessary after she gathered her things in a bag that hung around her shoulders. She was supposed to leave that place after she made sure the kid was alright and alive.

"God dammit!" she shouted. "How many times do I have to explain I'm not doing anything wrong?!"

"You're lying to people and receiving money, filthy witch. You're a thief," one of the men commented as they continued walking her away from the port.

"I didn't steal shit!" she snapped.

"Watch out!" she heard a familiar voice.

Instantly, she bent her torso down. The man on her right was punched in the face with so much force he released her grip on her and stumbled into the marine on her left, both of them now on the ground.

She didn't even get enough time to process what was happening, something curling around her waist carefully, but so fast. A yelp left her lips when she realized she was being lifted off the ground, turning her head towards the source.

It was the straw hat's arm. He ate a devil fruit, didn't he?

He was on a boat that was sailing a few meters away in the sea and she was being pulled towards him. She also recognized the pirate hunter from earlier and a woman with orange hair, both of them far too relaxed for what was happening.

That guy was made of rubber!

She recognized Koby who just got to his feet after she got past him, her feet finally touching something solid again. She blinked confused at the straw hat.

"You can't bring everyone that you like on this ship," the swordsman let out a hopeless sigh.

She busted out laughing like a maniac, the colorful and rich sound filling the air. Her shoulders shook and she had to place her hand over her stomach, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Obviously, her reaction was met with an especially questionable look coming from the swordsman, who most probably thought he got on a ship with another insane human.

"You're insane, kid," she wiped the tears in her eyes with her fingers, still smiling widely.

She hasn't felt such relief in years.

"I guess I gotta fulfill a promise, right?"

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

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jenosuh · 3 years

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fic recs and good authors part 2

so I’m not actually finished here but I guess I’ll just post this now and make a part 3 when some other fics come to mind, I’m sorry if I left out and triggers or warnings. sorry if I’ve tagged you before

tag list : @dimplehyunn

these are all in no particular order

love story by @dreamcities romeo!jaemin x fem!juliet!reader

summary: you hadn’t meant to fall in love at first sight with the handsome son of your family’s sworn enemy. but you did, and now you must decide if you’d risk it all for your star-crossed romance with him or go forth with your arranged marriage with another man.

something to sink my teeth into by @kiri-ah vampire!jaemin x human reader

summary: A trip to Poland goes terribly wrong - or maybe terribly right - when you're bitten and kidnapped by a vampire. Between passing out, almost dying multiple times, and falling in love, you have a lot on your plate. Oh, and the magic. Right.

someone to spend eternity with by @mochi-baby-xoxo part two to ‘something to sink my teeth into’ above ^

last deception by @jaemotel agent!jaemin x fem!mafia boss!reader

summary: na jaemin, one of the best agents is sent to hunt down his ex lover without getting his feelings involved. jaemin is not the one to get out of track but what happens when he meets the love of his life, one more time?

the one that got away by @dear-hao jaemin x reader

summary: a perfect couple who just couldn’t get timing right.

wall talk by @dnylvu

summary: he’s the enemy, the one you’ve despised since the beginning of time. but he’s also the very man buried deep within you.

broken mirrors by @neovisioned jaehyun x reader

summary: Your college friends recall a creepy legend about a man that appears in mirrors and grants you two wishes when summoned. Jisung is dared to say his name three times and see what happens. At first you brush it off as some copy of bloody mary but, when your friend chickens out and swears something happened in that bathroom, you can’t deny the shift in atmosphere everyone felt. The urge to try it out mixed with fear pushes you over the edge. it’s probably fake anyways, right? You summon Jung Jaehyun in the middle of the night, on your bed, and he is not what you expected him to be.

I like you….the other you by @pastelsicheng spiderman!jaemin x reader

summary: Even after drifting apart from your friend Jaemin 3 years ago, you still have a big fat cr*sh on him. You’ve convinced yourself that you’ll get over him someday, but maybe it’s better that you didn’t get over him after all because Jaemin has a big fat cr*sh on you too. All it takes is you telling him about your feelings and saying you like him. Well, telling the other him. Alternatively, in which you have a big fat cr*sh on Spider-man’s alter-ego and Spider-man has a big fat cr*sh on you.

smultronställe part 2 by @gohyuck surgeon!jaemin x reader

summary: in which jaemin’s both a superdad and a supersurgeon and you can’t help but fall for him

the one that got away by @haechanplsacceptmylove sungchan & fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy, death, blood (bro i love this fic so much but i hate it because i cried so much and i don’t think i can bring myself to read it again because I’ll get to emotional and hate myself, it’s super angsty and has character death so read it if you think you’ll be ok with those themes)

random really good jaemin fic recs list by @jaesayshi

cat and mouse by @tyonfs

summary: tired of meaningless hookups and dull parties, na jaemin had always been hesitant to indulge himself. that is, of course, until he met you. however, upon realizing you’re none other than jeong jaehyun’s little sister, jaemin has to keep his relationship with you under wraps to make sure his team captain doesn’t find out.

just like the movies by @jensungf

summary: the kissing booth was a horrible movie, but somehow you still managed to get roped into watching the god-awful sequel, and the only reason you could blame was your stupid best friend by the name of lee donghyuck. oh, and the fact that you may or may not be whipped for him too.

that’s hot by @dreamcity-rawr pride!mark x reader

Summary: mark’s pride and ego start to get on your nerves so you decide to give him a piece of your mind, little did you know, you start become a piece always on his mind from then on

i became attracted to seaweed by @choerrypuffs son of poseidon!donghyuck x daughter of athena!reader

enchanted also by @choerrypuffs prince!jungwoo x witch!reader

summary: the prince has always been a little unconventional, but no one ever expected him to fall in love with a witch.

serve you, help you by @00-baejin-05 butler!jaemin x reader x butler!jeno

summary: it's normal to have servants serve you, especially if you are royalty. however, you didn't expect two butlers to be given to you, intead of maids. you learned how to trust them and deepen your connection with him... but it's gotten way too deep. (I somehow remember reading this but I also somehow don’t??)

grit your f*ckin teeth by @henlojeno mark x reader

summary: dubbed the grim reaper, one half of the strongest in the devil’s league, you were a supernatural hybrid known for strong wings and green lighting; admired and feared by both humans and myths alike, right until the day you disappeared with no explanation. cue your reappearance four months later, it’s up to you to mend the ties you left hanging and reconcile with those you’ve left behind, all while still scrambling to save lives from a crumbling society.

the interview by @whereisten vampire!doyoung x journalist reader

summary: you’re a journalist that just booked her biggest gig, an interview with Doyoung, a vampire notorious for a series of murders in your city.

gilded gold by @mint-yooxgi yandere vampire print jaehyun x reader

sun&moon by @fleurminho jaehyun x reader

(um so the acc deactivated before I got to post it but the plot was really cute so I’ll keep this here even if the links don’t lead to anything. all I remember was a soulmate au with jaehyun where you go to his concert and meet him there </3)

authors:

@nakamotocore @shotarology @bluejaem @jenoismydad @tenseoyong @taemin-jaemin

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yellowsuitcase · 3 years

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In the Prefect’s Bathroom Part 4 // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Guys!!! It's the FINAL part, yay!! I'm super proud of this and I think it's super cute and just AAHH I really hope y'all like it. Lemme know what you think of it and if you expected any of it. Thank you so much for reading, and Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it)

Summary: Draco has been trying to get Y/N to talk to him since he confessed, but he hasn't had any luck. Until, he finds something she left in his dorm.

Warning(s): SMUT! Unprotected sex, lots of fluff, swearing, angst

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist & Taglist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Three weeks had gone by, and now Draco was on his bed, toying with the idea of giving up. Y/N had been avoiding him ever since that day he confessed. No matter how hard he tried to get her to warm back up to him, she kept her distance. He had tried everything. He'd sit next to her in class; she'd move seats. He'd wait outside the Gryffindor tower; she'd strut right past him. It seemed as nothing was working, so of course, he was getting a bit discouraged.

Just a couple days ago, the two of them had been in Charms class, and on his way out, Draco noticed that Y/N had dropped her book. This is my chance, he thought to himself. He quickly bent down to pick it up since he assumed she would've been already halfway down the corridor by the time he got back up. But when he arose from the floor, she was standing right in front of him. His heart pounded in his chest. Draco knew he had to stall for time, try and get her defenses to weaken. He turned the book over in his hands. "The Tales of Beedle and Bard," he read aloud. Y/N blushed and averted her eyes. He opened the cover and read the first few lines to himself.

There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbours. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms and antidotes sprang ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot.

Draco shut the book and said, "I've actually never read them. My father didn't permit me to. Said it was written by a muggle lover. Supposedly he filed an official request to remove it from Hogwarts's shelves." Draco chuckled as he ran his finger along the spine of the light blue book. But his laughter died when he glanced up at Y/N. She looked rather upset, causing Draco to panic and quickly backtrack. "That isn't to say I don't want to read them now. I mean, I'm sure they're not as bad as Father thought they were," he sputtered. Y/N remained silent. "Perhaps... we could read them together, maybe?" he asked hopefully. He knew it was a shot in the dark, but he did it anyway. Draco hadn't heard Y/N's voice in weeks, and it was making him grow desperate.

Softly, she reached out her hand, and Draco held his breath. But then her fingers grasped the book, and the Slytherin felt his heart shatter. He cleared his throat, trying to push away the lump that had formed in it. His grip loosened, and Y/N pulled her book towards her chest. She didn't even look at him before she turned around and rushed down the hallway, leaving Draco feeling stranded, hopeless, and, quite frankly, stupid for even trying.

Since then, he hadn't put in nearly as much effort into rekindling their friendship. It was painfully obvious Y/N wanted nothing more to do with him, and as much as it hurt, Draco had to accept that. But that didn't stop his thoughts. It couldn't. Every night, he would lay awake, worrying. Worrying about Y/N's wellbeing. Was she happy? Did she make any new friends?

Did she still feel alone?

Draco didn't know. From the little he'd seen of her, he assumed she was alright. He hoped she was. But he had no real way of knowing. He had tried reaching out to her roommate multiple times, but all Stephanie would tell him was that she thought Y/N seemed fine, just a bit quiet. That answer never sat well with him. During those few weeks, before he confessed, he had learned so much about Y/N. One of those things being that she was not quiet. She had talked his ear off many times, telling him funny stories from her childhood. Like how, after one of their study sessions, she told him about the time she had made her pet fish turn yellow just by looking at it. Draco remembered that day clearly.

"My mum was terrified! One moment my fish was blue and the next he was yellow! I mean, imagine that." Y/N laughed. Draco shook his head in disbelief. "Sounds like you were quite the little mischief-maker," he replied as he twirled his wand between his fingers, it was becoming a bit of a habit. Y/N continued giggling, kicking her legs as she did so. "You should've seen the look on my dad's face when he got home. That was the day he sat her and me down and told us he was a wizard. My poor mum. She had no idea."

Draco sat up in shock. "Wait, wait, you're a half-blood?" he asked, eyes wide. Y/N cocked an eyebrow. "Is that a problem, Malfoy?" she questioned as she began to sit up. Her tone was somewhat threatening. Draco raised his hands to show his lack of ill intention. "No, no. I was just surprised," he quickly explained. Y/N chuckled and waved her hand towards him. "Relax, I'm only playing with you," she assured him. Her words piqued Draco's interest. He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips, staring suggestively into her eyes. "Well, I'd sure like to play with you," he husked. Y/N gasped loudly and swiftly removed the pillow from behind her back and chucked it at the blonde boy sitting across from her. "Draco!" she screeched. "Joking!" he mumbled. "Just joking...unless."

Y/N crossed her arms, and obnoxiously shook her head while clicking her tongue disapprovingly. Draco snickered before throwing the pillow back at her, making her giggle. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her eyes twinkle. She looked unreal to Draco, ethereal almost. However, he was torn from his trance by her continuing the story. "Anyways, as I was saying, my lovely mum had the shock of her life. I was surprised as well. I mean, I had just found out I was a bloody witch. Although I was much more delighted than she was. Come to think of it, she might've cried," Y/N said with a small frown. "Wow..." Draco muttered. "But what does she think of it now? What with you being at Hogwarts and all."

Y/N hummed to herself, recalling that last time she and her mother spoke about Hogwarts. "Well, I think she thinks it's a bit surreal, you know? She always imagined I'd graduate and go off to university to become a doctor or something, but here I am at a school for wizards and witches," she said while gesturing to the castle walls around her. Draco nodded although he was a bit confused. "She just doesn't understand, right?" he asked. Y/N pursed her lips. "I think she will, with time. Maybe I can introduce her to you and your family. Now that would be really fun," she suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "And why is that?" he questioned, staring at the giggling girl. "Just imagine me introducing you. I'd say, hey mum, this is my best friend and his wizard parents who dress like they're going to a funeral every single day. Oh, and they also own a mansion in the countryside because they're rolling in galleons!" Y/N bellowed, nearly falling over as she clutched her stomach, erupting in laughter.

Draco would've berated her for the slander towards his parents, but his mind was fixated on three words, "My best friend." He waited until Y/N ceased laughing before asking her, "I'm your best friend?" She looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "Well, duh, you're my only friend, Draco." The Slytherin did his best to hide his blush as he looked to the floor. "You're mine too," he mumbled. But Y/N didn't hear.

Draco sighed as he sat on his bed. He missed her. He wished so badly that she'd walk through his door. But she wouldn't, and he knew that. Slowly, he pushed himself off the green covered mattress and walked over to his wooden desk. A piece of parchment was already on top of it, so he took a seat, and he reached for his ink bottle and quill. His nimble fingers unscrewed the cap, and he dipped the point inside it, drenching it in black liquid. He'd written letters to Y/N many times, but every time he finished one, he'd get scared and chuck it into the bin. Draco knew he'd probably do the same tonight, but he wanted to try. So he pressed his quill to the paper and began.

"Dear Y/N, I hope you are doing well. I'm writing to you to give you my apologies. I should've known better than to confess my feelings for you at such a time. I really hope..." he stilled his hand, not knowing what to say next. His head was reeling as different thoughts and feelings flooded his brain, none of which he knew how to convey in words. She made him so dizzy. But, ever persistent, Draco started again.

"Dear Y/N, Are you doing well? I truly hope that you are. I write to you to tell you that I'm sorry for everything. I said and did so many foolish things that day, and if I could take all of them back, I swear, I would. I know I must've frightened you that day, but Y/N, I fear you don't know how much I miss you. I've never felt this empty before. But I know it's because you're not here. I need you..." Draco, in his frustrated haze, crossed out the last line and crumbled the parchment in his fist. He then tossed it across the room, watching as it hit the wall next to his door, and bounced on the foot of his brass coat rack. He stared at it, thinking about donning his coat and taking a walk around campus. But then, he noticed something underneath. He jumped to his feet and rushed over to the rack. Curious, he lifted his black coat off the hook to reveal a brown cardigan underneath. His chest tightened; it was Y/N's. She must've left it in his room after one of their study sessions. Come to think of it, it was probably from the night before Draco confessed.

Hesitantly, the boy reached out and touched his fingers to the cardigan. It was soft. He lifted it up and held it in his hands, letting his emotions settle. Then, he brought it to his nose, breathing in deeply. It still smelled of her: apples, hazelnut, and cinnamon. Draco felt tears begin to gather in his eyes, but he hastily blinked them away. With care, he hung the cardigan back up and retreated to his desk. He got seated, pulled out a new sheet of parchment, and began writing for the third time that night.

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

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you well. I'm writing to you to inform you that I've discovered your cardigan in my room. The brown one that is. I suppose you left it after our last study session. I can return it to you tomorrow morning at breakfast, or if you'd prefer, you can fetch it tonight. The current password to the Slytherin common room is Jobberknoll. Hopefully, you remember where my bedroom is, but should you have forgotten, it's at the very top of the stairway on your left. Please knock three times before entering.

There's no need to send an owl with your reply. Just make sure to come before 9:30. If you don't, I'll assume you wish to receive the cardigan at breakfast, in which case, I shall wait for you by the door.

Draco

Y/N clutched the parchment tightly in her hands. She had been scared half to death when an owl landed right beside her while she was sitting by the open windows. But now, she was more afraid of getting her cardigan back. She glanced around her room frantically, as if she'd find an answer to her dilemma upon the walls. Her eyes then drifted back to the parchment in her hands. She looked at where Draco had signed his name. Above it was a dark scribble as if he had scratched something out. What did he write there? It was probably just 'sincerely,' but what if it was something else. What if it was 'with love'? Y/N wondered. She closed her eyes; she needed to calm down. There was no way she'd be able to make a rational decision with such thoughts running through her brain.

But Y/N had nobody to consult, nobody to refer to. Ever since she'd pushed Draco away that day, she'd been alone. Her roommate spoke to her on occasion, but only about school-related things. Almost the entirety of her house had shunned her. And the whole school knew what she did, so making friends had proven to be difficult. But because of this, Y/N had been able to do a lot of thinking. Truthfully, she missed Draco. She hated herself for rejecting him that day. She hated herself because she liked him. The only reason she had rejected him was that she knew she wasn't ready for another relationship. And on top of that, she didn't think she deserved one. Draco wasn't someone she deserved, not in her mind.

But here she was, being forced to make a decision. Should she just wait until tomorrow, or should she go to his room? Her brain was telling her to wait until tomorrow; that way, she could take the cardigan, thank him, and be on her merry way. But her heart screamed at her to go to him. Go to him, confess to him, bring him back into her life. Y/N glanced at the clock; it was nearly nine. "Fuck," she muttered before pushing off the window seat; her loneliness had gotten the best of her.

She rushed towards her closet and flung the doors open. Her eyes scanned the array of clothing for a few moments before she pulled out her favorite pair of light grey sweatpants along with her pale green crewneck. She threw them on and tucked her wand into her pocket. Then she checked herself in the mirror. Her hair was already pulled back, and she had light mascara on. It was good enough, in her opinion, so she slipped on her shoes and turned her doorknob with a shaky hand.

--------

Draco was sitting in his armchair with a blue book in his hands when he heard three distinct knocks at his door. His breathing began to hasten; surely, it couldn't be... Only one way to find out. "Come in!" he called. The door swung open to reveal Y/N. She looked nervous as all hell but nevertheless, stepped inside his room and closed the door behind her. Neither of them said anything. They simply stared at one another. But luckily, Draco came to his senses. "Right, your cardigan," he said as he dropped his book and stood up. He grabbed the cardigan off the back of his chair and walked over to her, holding out the garment. "Here you are." Y/N took it into her hands and examined it. "Thank you, I thought it was lost forever," she told him with a smile. Draco faltered for a moment. He'd forgotten how sweet her voice was. But then he nodded, and the awkward silence returned. It hung in the air for a few moments before it was broken by the two of them simultaneously blurting out, "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Y/N," Draco insisted while shifting his eyes to the floor. "I acted like a fool that day a-and I frightened you, and I made you so overwhelmed. I should've known better, and I am so sorry...I've missed you so much," he said, whispering his last few words. Eventually, he found the courage to look up, and when he did, he saw that Y/N was crying. His heart clenched, and he felt regret pool in his gut. But before he could apologize again, Y/N spoke up.

"I've missed you too, Draco. And I'm not sorry I rejected you that day, I'm sorry that I kicked you out of my life. I thought I was protecting myself because I just knew I would've gone back on my decision if I had let you stay. I liked you too, I still do, but I just wasn't ready. You're too good to be true. I don't deserve a second chance; I don't deserve you. But you didn't deserve to be shut out, and I really hope you can forgive—"

Y/N was cut off by Draco smashing his lips against hers. He held her face in his hands as she gasped, allowing him to sneak his tongue out and run it along her lower lip. She moaned into his mouth as he started to nibble. His hands traveled downwards until they settled on her hips. He pulled her closer and groaned when his hips touched hers. God, how he had missed this. Then, Y/N reached up and ran her hands through his hair, successfully messing it up. Draco knew he wanted more but pulled away from her lips. She breathed heavily and looked into his eyes, puzzled as to why he stopped.

"You're mine...right?" Draco asked anxiously. Y/N smiled and pulled him close for another soft kiss. "I'm yours," she whispered. Draco kissed her again, and she eagerly returned it. Hesitantly, Draco sneaked his hand underneath her shirt, merely letting it sit there against her hot skin as he slipped his tongue into her mouth again. Then, he began to slide his hand up her torso, all while paying attention to her reactions. She seemed to be kissing him harder as he gently ran his thumb along the underside of her breast. He took that as a sign he was doing good, so he placed his hand on top of it and squeezed. Y/N let out a loud moan and pulled away from the kiss. "Draco, please," she whined. He snickered as he studied her pleading face. "What do you need, princess?" he asked in a sultry voice. Y/N squirmed and continued to whine. Draco clicked his tongue. "Always so scared to tell me what you want. There's no need to be embarrassed. I'll give you whatever you want. I just need you to tell me," he reminded her gently. She bit her lip and stared at the floor before finally answering.

"I wanna have sex with you," she whispered. Her face was crimson. Draco felt his heart squeeze; she was too cute. He put his hand underneath her chin and tilted it upwards. A gentle kiss was planted on her lips. "I wanna have sex with you too, darling," he murmured. Y/N couldn't hide her smile as she swiftly took his hand and led him to the bed. Draco smirked and, with sneaky hands, pushed her onto the bed, making her squeal. "Draco!" she yelled with her back now pressed against the mattress. The Slytherin wasted no time; he jumped on top of her while mimicking a roar, causing Y/N to burst into laughter. Her laugh was music to his ears.

Draco tugged her shirt up and off her body, throwing it to the floor. His hands immediately traveled to her back where he unclasped her bra, throwing that away too. Draco felt his dick twitch in his pants upon seeing her nipples harden in the cold air. He leaned down and latched his lips onto one of them while twisting the other between his fingers. Y/N's gasp sent a shiver down his spine, and he sucked her even harder.

"Draco..." she moaned. Draco let go of her tits and sat up, admiring her flushed face. Then Y/N suddenly sat up and grasped the bottom of his shirt and proceeded to yank it off him. Draco only watched as she did this. Her hands then traveled to his pants. She unzipped him and pushed his waistband down, exposing his briefs. He helped her out by maneuvering himself off his knees so that he could kick his pants off.

Once the pants joined the rest of the clothes, Y/N reached for the top of his underwear. But before she could go any further, Draco stopped her. She looked at him, confused as to why he wouldn't want her to touch him. "Tonight is about you, darling. Lie back for me now," Draco instructed. Y/N's face turned red, but she did as she was told and lowered her body onto the bed. Draco's hands grasped her pants, and he slowly pulled them down, stopping to press kisses to her thighs as he went. They were both in only their underwear now, and he could see Y/N was getting impatient. "Speak princess, what do you want?" Draco asked. Y/N pressed her thighs together and rolled her hips a bit before she spoke. "Finger me, please," she begged. Draco smiled at her and immediately pressed his fingers to her pussy, still covered by her panties.

"So polite," he purred as he gently rubbed her clit through her underwear. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure. "That feel good, princess?" Draco asked. Y/N nodded and opened her mouth to reply, but a long moan quickly replaced the words on her tongue as Draco applied more pressure to her nub. He continued to swirl his finger around it for a couple minutes, then he slid a different finger past her panties and slowly pushed it inside, feeling her thighs clench as he did so. "So tight," he mumbled before leaning down and giving her a sweet kiss. The intrusion of another finger caused her to gasp into his mouth. Draco groaned and pressed down on her clit, making her hips jump.

"Did you miss this? Did you miss my fingers inside you and my kisses on your body?" he questioned as he thrusted into her. Y/N clenched her walls around his digits and nodded eagerly. "So much. So fucking much," she mewled. Draco added another finger and increased his pace. He noticed Y/N's breathing beginning to get quicker, and he knew she was close. So he finger-fucked her hole for a minute more before withdrawing his hand. Y/N cried out in frustration and glared at him angrily. "Why did you do that?" she whined.

But then, without warning, Draco lifted up her shirt and pressed his lips to her soft stomach, blowing a raspberry onto it. Y/N instantly screamed and wiggled violently underneath him. "STOP, STOP!" she shrieked, trying to get away as her giggles became uncontrollable. Eventually, Draco took mercy on her and ceased his torment. He leaned up to see Y/N was out of breath, and her hair was a mess. "Quit playing games and put your dick inside me, you twat," she ordered. Draco's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "If you say so," he muttered, taking his cock out of his underwear. Y/N's eyes widened, but before she could say or do anything, Draco slid all the way inside her, burying his dick in her pussy. "Ohhh, fuck," she moaned. Draco grunted as he adjusted to the tightness of her hole. He had the instinct to begin slamming into her, but he controlled his urges and allowed her body to adapt to him as he positioned his hands next to her head.

Y/N's walls clenched around him, and she bucked her hips. "Move, please," she pleaded softly. "As you wish," Draco said as he slowly pulled himself out and thrusted back in, setting a slow but consistent pace. Y/N let out quiet mewls as he moved in and out. Her legs found their way to his waist, and they quickly wrapped around it. This pulled him closer and forced his dick deeper inside her. "Fuck," Draco moaned as he leaned down for a kiss while continuing to thrust. Y/N hummed into his mouth and flicked her tongue against his. "Shit, you feel so good," she purred. Draco's cock twitched at her words, and he increased his pace. A harsh grunt escaped him as Y/N reached up and dug her nails into his back. "You're so gorgeous, Y/N," he breathed. "So goddamn gorgeous."

Suddenly, Draco's sensual thrusts were halted by Y/N calling his name. "Yes, darling?" he replied. "You can be rough, I don't mind," she told him gently. Draco smiled down at her and pressed quick kisses along her jaw. "I know, but I can do that another night. Right now," he angled his head so that his lips were by her ear, "I'm making love to you," he whispered, feeling her shudder beneath him.

Y/N's eyes grew soft, and she moved her hands to his face. "You're perfect," she mumbled before pulling his lips to hers, where they shared a passionate kiss. "So perfect." Draco started to thrust again, resuming his slower pace. The force of his cock rocked the couple back and forth on the plush pillows. But then, he had an idea.

He moved his hands from their spot beside Y/N's head, slid them underneath her back, and lifted her up. "Shit," she cursed as she was now on Draco's lap, his dick still buried deep inside her. Slowly, Draco raised her off him and turned her around so that her back was facing him. He then repositioned her hips above his cock and gently lowered her onto it. "Ohhh," she moaned as she once again became full. She was about to lift herself up and fuck herself on his dick, but Draco's hands stopped her. He pushed her legs wide and placed his hand over her pussy. This didn't please Y/N. She started to squirm and buck her hips forward, causing Draco to groan as she stimulated his cock. "Stay still, princess. I'll take care of you," he assured her. His fingers pressed against her heat and slowly spread the upper lips, exposing her clit. With his other hand, he touched his fingers to her nub and slowly began to circle it. Y/N's head fell back onto his shoulder, and a long, deep groan escaped her throat.

"Oh my god," she whimpered as her breathing became ragged. Draco's hands never stopped or stuttered, not even when Y/N's walls squeezed him tight. He just kept rubbing and rubbing; her soft pants sounded like heaven to him. Suddenly, Y/N's thighs began to tense. "Draco, fuck, I'm close," she muttered. Draco turned his head and once again hovered his lips next to her ear. "Cum on me. Cum with me buried inside you," he ordered. Y/N gasped and rolled her head on his shoulder. He could tell she was almost there. "Oh, god. Fuck, fuck, fuck, just a little more," she begged.

Draco kept circling her clit until finally, she inhaled sharply, and her walls clenched him hard. His finger didn't stop; it continued to rub her throughout her high. It only ceased when Draco felt her body jolt from overstimulation. He then pushed her forward onto her hands and knees and began pounding into her, chasing his own climax. The sounds of skin slapping combined with the tightness of Y/N's pussy lit a fire in Draco's abdomen, and soon, he was pushed over the edge. "Cumming," he warned her before he released inside Y/N with a deep groan. The couple remained in that position for a good minute, breathing heavily. Then Draco pulled himself out and laughed as Y/N immediately collapsed face-first onto his bed. He gently flipped her over and kissed her cheek. "You alright, darling?" he asked. She smiled and turned to him. Then, without thinking, she blurted, "I think I love you." Immediately, Y/N slapped her hand over her mouth. But Draco only grinned and said, "I love you too, Y/N."

She lowered her hand and averted her eyes as blush filled her cheeks. "Draco, are we..." she trailed off, looking apprehensive. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked. Y/N nodded. "I'd love to be your boyfriend, darling," he said sweetly. In less than a second, Draco was attacked by a forceful hug from Y/N. He wrapped his arms around her still naked body and held her close, breathing in her scent: apples, hazelnut, and cinnamon.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," she said softly. "I don't know what I would've done with myself if you had just stopped caring one day," Y/N confessed. Draco gently pulled away from the hug and cradled his girlfriend's face in his hands. "I never would've stopped caring. Y/N you were all I thought about," he assured her. He watched as her tears began to fall from her eyes. "Don't cry, sweetheart, I'm here now; I've got you. There's no need to cry," he said sweetly, trying to comfort her. But Y/N kept on crying, so he dragged a blanket over his lap and pulled her on top of it. "Look at me, darling," he instructed lightly. She rubbed her tears away with her arm and looked into Draco's eyes.

"I love you. I love you so much. Do not waste your tears on the mistakes of the past. All that matters is that I've got you, and you've got me. Alright?" Y/N continued to wipe her tears and nodded. "Alright. I love you too," she replied.

Draco pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, slid her off his lap, and stood up from the bed. He grabbed some tissues and cleaned himself off before doing the same for Y/N. Then he pulled on his underwear and tossed Y/N hers. As she was getting dressed, Draco strode over to his armchair. In the seat of it sat a small blue book. He picked it up and took it with him as he went back to bed. Y/N was already under the covers; she looked at him quizzically when she noticed the object in his hand. Her mouth opened to speak, but Draco quickly shushed her. He slid under the covers and cozied up next to Y/N. Then, he cracked open the book, cleared his throat, and began to read.

"There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbours. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms and antidotes sprang ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot."

The End

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @orangecrayon @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hustlinhufflepuff @goddessofgames @dracocanslytherin8 @superbturtlemakerathlete @raplinethereal @mllzhxrrz44 @dixiethemorab24 @prongsandprancer @azkabanlexi

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harryhandstan · 3 years

Text

This is my contribution to @meetmeinfleetwood‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I chose the trope roommates to lovers and the prompt “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” This was fun to write thank you for allowing me to participate!

Thank you to my beta readers @tbslenthusiast, @witch-harry, and @sunflowers-styles! Y’all are the best!!

no warnings that I can think of other than alcohol tw // bc of the wine they share!

word count: 2.3k

writing tag | masterlist

It’s 5:45 p.m. when you finally leave work for the day. You should’ve just said to hell with it and went home at 5:30 like you were supposed to, but you were nice enough not to. Too nice you’d been told in the past, but it’s a flaw you’re willing to accept if it gets you a promotion to the position you ultimately dreamed of working when you started there 3 years ago.

After a quick stop to grab a bottle of wine (or two), your car can’t get you home fast enough. It’s Friday and you’re looking forward to spending time doing absolutely nothing for the next two days but curling up in a blanket and watching Christmas movies in the apartment you will essentially be alone in. Your roommate Harry shared the space with you, but kept to himself for the most part. Aside from dinners and movie nights on rare occasions when your schedule lined up, allowing you to spend the evening together.

As if your thoughts summoned him, your phone dinged, indicating a new message. Your eyes dart down to where it sits in the passenger seat, careful to keep your eyes on the car in front of you, waiting patiently for the light to turn red so you can grab your phone to respond.

It’s one simple word, “Home?” so you know he’s either still working or on his own drive home.

Your reply is just as direct, “Not yet. On my way! Movie night?”

The light’s green again so you tuck your phone back into your purse, ignoring the next ding until you arrive home. You’re through the door of your apartment and down the hall before you read his message, “Sure. Chinese or pizza?”

“Chinese! I’ll pick the movie and you pay for dinner?”

“That doesn’t sound fair :(”

“Alright fine, you get home before I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas you can pick the movie..deal?”

“Deal!”

The race is on then, both of you competitive and determined to win. You have a movie in mind that you’ve been dying to watch all day and you don’t want to have to rock-paper-scissors to break the tie like you usually do when the two of you don’t agree on who wins these little games.

You’d already shed most of your layers of clothing easily as you moved through the apartment; your boots kicked off by the door, jacket gone and thrown over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, cardigan pulled from your body and tossed on the bed by the time you made it to your bedroom. It doesn’t take long to strip the rest away and to gather a set of pajamas from your well organized drawer before darting across the hall to the shared bathroom.

You know you have at minimum 45 minutes to be done, an hour if he goes to the better Chinese place a little further across town, which he most likely would. You’d been dreaming of ending your week with a bubble bath, but you don’t take the chance now, just hop under the hot spray of the shower, hoping it will have the same relaxing effect. Your eyes are closed as you tilt your head back to wet your hair while one hand fumbles over the bottles to find your shampoo.

Eyes still closed, you tip the bottle to add a bit to your hand, but you freeze when you open your eyes temporarily to close the bottle and put it back on the shelf. It’s Harry’s shampoo you’ve grabbed instead and for a moment you don’t know what to do. You don’t know how many times you’ve teased him about how expensive his products are. But he would never let you hear the end of it if he came home and you smelled like him. Ultimately you would’ve felt too guilty to waste it, so you work it through and hope he never finds out. Pray that the act washes away just like the suds do when you rinse them from your hair.

By your hopeful calculations, you still have about 10 minutes left before he arrives by the time you're done in the shower. You decide to give him a fair advantage, venturing into the kitchen to decide which bottle of wine would pair best with dinner. When you make your selection, you pour yourself a glass, settling into a comfy spot on the couch. The black remote taunts you from the small wooden coffee, and you grab it. No harm in getting the movie ready while you wait, right?

You’re 2 glasses deep and 20 minutes into the movie when he arrives, a smirk on his face at the sight of you. Your eyes go wide when you see him. You’re not sure why, there had been many nights he’d found you in the same position, but tonight feels different. You gulp down the sip of wine, too tipsy and unaware that you’re staring. Had his dimples always been that prominent when he smiled? Even without your glasses you could spot that grin that stretched a mile wide across his face.

“Haroldddd..you’re home!”

He hated that nickname, had always despised when other people called him that, but falling from your lips it sounds like a prayer and he would gladly change his name to that if he thought it would make you the least bit happy.

“S’pose I lost, huh? Got the food pretty quickly but stopped to get this,” He holds up a bottle of wine, ironically the very same kind that you’re drinking now, “Shoulda known y’would already have some!”

“Oh good, you got some for yourself..this one’s almost empty..”

“M’not that late, am I?” He chuckles as he makes his way to the counter, looking between you and the bottle.

“Hey..it’s a small bottle! This is only my third glass and I’ve barely even touched it.”

“Rough day?” He’s pulling plates down now and retrieving a glass for himself from the cabinet.

“Rough week. Rough few weeks, really.” You take a few more sips as you watch him prepare a plate of food. You figure he’s just making his own, and you wait patiently for him to finish so you won’t be in the way. But when he makes his way around the counter, he’s holding two plates in his hand and wow you want to jump from your spot and kiss him. You restrain yourself, as hard as it may be, and try to focus on the question he’s asking you.

He holds the plates towards the table and then towards where you sit on the couch, silently wanting to know where you’d prefer to enjoy your meal. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to move closer, knowing how much effort it would take to lift yourself from your warm, comfy spot to go eat at the table.

“Emily still on vacation?”

“Yes! And she expects us to do double the work while she’s gone! It’s her 3rd vacation this year. I know she’s the boss but..”

“Doesn’t mean she has to be a bitch to you.” He finishes your sentence for you, brow furrowed, upset at even the idea of someone mistreating you in the slightest.

“Right! Thank you!”

You hold your hand out to accept the plate he’s made for you, “Got our usual, hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I was just joking earlier about you paying for all of it. I’ll pay you back for my half.”

He’s already shaking his head no, stuffing a bite of food in his mouth, “It was my turn anyway, r‘member? You paid for those tacos we had last week.”

“Right, I did. Forgot about that.”

You watch him devour a few more bites, your eyes darting from your plate to his, “Yours looks better.”

“Huh?”

Maybe it’s the wine making you more bold, you’d normally never complain, “Your plate it just..looks better than mine. Switch with me.”

“It’s literally the same thing..and I’ve already eaten half the noodles off mine.” He looks mildly annoyed at even the suggestion.

“Don’t care..it looks better. Switch.” You realized just how bratty you sound, so you add a quick, “Please?”

He huffs dramatically, switching the plates and giving you a sarcastic smile, “Happy?”

You return his smile, blissfully unaware of his annoyance in your tipsy state, “Very, thank you.”

You both turn your attention to the tv you realize now you had forgotten to pause, so the movie had progressed further, about 30 minutes in now.

His irritation has already faded when he asks, “What are y’making me watch?”

You start to explain the plot but stop mid-bite of your food, “Wait..have you never seen this movie?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t look familiar.”

“Oh we’re definitely starting it over then!”

“No, ya don’t hafta..”

It’s too late, you’ve already discarded your now mostly empty plate of food, nearly knocking your glass of wine over in your excitement of making him watch one of your favorite movies.

Almost an hour in, you don’t notice that Harry’s eyes have drifted to you. In fact, they’d mostly stayed on you since you’d restarted the movie. Your facial expressions were better to him than any movie; the way your eyes softened at the more heartwarming parts, or when your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ and gasped at parts he was certain you had probably seen at least a dozen times before.

You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically and he doesn’t even flinch, just listens intently when you say, “I love this part..this is the moment.”

His eyes temporarily flash back to the tv then, “The moment?”

“Yeah, you know, the moment. Where the guy looks at the girl and realizes he’s in love.” You sigh deeply, “I always wanted someone to look at me like that.”

Oh, you mean like what’s happening now between us? God he hopes for just a glance from you, a chance to show you that you’re living your own moment now if you’d just look at him.

It’s tumbling out of his mouth quicker than he can stop it, his mouth working faster than his brain, but it’s a low enough whisper he thinks maybe you won’t hear.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

You do hear him, though you don’t believe it at first. Your hand is still resting over your heart, searching his face for any sign of teasing or dishonesty.

“H..did you just..?”

He’s looking down at his hands, fingers fiddling with one of the rings adorning his fingers, nodding before replying, “I did.”

“How long?”

“Um..since the first week we’ve lived together? That first night we made dinner together and it was a disaster. Thought you were gonna catch the place on fire.” A giggle escapes him at the memory of you, rushing around the kitchen that night, face flushed red and hair a mess.

“That’s my moment? Almost burning our apartment down?”

“That and now, yeah. Just been strugglin’ with the best way to tell you. S’pose the wine’s making me a lil’ more fearless,'' He takes a deep breath, still not able to look at you in case he finds even a hint of rejection on your face, “But I understand if you don’t feel the same..”

“I do.”

His head snaps to look at you then, eyes widening for a second before he composes himself, “Really?”

You can’t stop the smile that blooms across your face at the sight of the thrill in his eyes. There’s a new buzz of elation in the air, but neither of you make a move at first. A pleasant tension fills the space between the two of you.

You break the silence, “So..what do we do now?”

“S’all up to you how fast and how far we take this. M’all in though, ready when you are, love. A cuddle might be nice while we finish the movie, if you’re up f’that.”

“I think I could handle that. I want something else first though.”

He’s trying to read your mind, thinks he knows exactly what it is, but he wants to hear you say it. Wants to hear the words he’s been waiting to hear for what feels like a lifetime now.

“Kiss me, Harry.”

You’ve already turned your body towards him; the movie, the food and the wine all long forgotten. He clears the space between the two of you easily, a hand on the side of your neck to add just enough pressure to pull you towards him.

Your lips crash against his, noses bumping at first but it doesn’t stop you, it only makes you crave him deeper and closer. You press your knees into his thighs, pushing yourself up so that you hover over him, your hair falling around his face. It’s still slightly damp from the shower, and his hand comes to rest on the back of your head now.

There’s a smug look on his face when he pulls away, a hand still placed on your hip to hold you steady. He’s still breathless when he asks, “Did you use my shampoo?”

When you wake up in his bed the next morning, you question if last night was a mistake. You don’t regret it, not for a second, just wonder if maybe things will be different in the morning light.

So when you barely touch the plate of eggs and toast he’s made for you for breakfast, he worries you’re having second thoughts about him, that he’s ruined any friendship you’ve already built by rushing into a relationship.

So when you say, “Did you really mean what you said last night..about loving me?” He visibly relaxes, dropping his shoulders and beaming at you from across his own breakfast plate.

“Oh, darlin’,” He plucks a piece of uneaten toast from your plate, winking at you as he does, “You don’t know the half of it.”

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 4 years

Text

The Red Witch

Jasper Hale x Reader part 1

A/N: I might turn this into a series with my OC.

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

A/N: I could be doing this wrong for all I know. I haven’t seen the films in a long long time so feedback is greatly appreciated. 😭 And I really wish this app gave you the ability to add a read more link.

Warnings: none

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

It had been a quiet and chilly yet peaceful morning that day in the newly opened little bookstore coffee shop that you owned with your best friend Melanie. You were currently organizing the antique books in the antique section, running your fingers along the smooth binding and humming along to the soft 90s rock that played through your shop while the warm aroma of coffee with hints of caramel and hazelnut filled your nostrils. Standing back to look at your finished work, you picked up your warm cup of coffee and took a sip, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh in content as the buttery drink warmed you up against the chilly morning breeze that slipped through the front door.

“You’re late.” You call out jokingly, holding your coffee mug close to your chest with one hand in the pocket of your black jeans as you walk towards the entrance to see your best friend Melanie walk in.

“Late?” She raises her brow at you as she takes off her brown wool coat and sets her belongings under the counter near the register.

“By a minute.” You quirk, finishing up your coffee before slipping on your black gloves and adjusting your dark green velvet sweater that hung loosely around your torso.

“Ooh. A minute.” Melanie rolls her eyes playfully as she starts to set up the register.

You smile to yourself at her response and tie your apron around your waist, throwing your hair in a bun before walking over to the front door and flipping your sign to open.

“It’s a brand new day.” Your friend pipes in as you stare out the window, gazing out at the fog blanketing the green trees and the morning dew that covered the flowers outside your window. Your eyes followed the few cars that drove past, some of them probably going off to work or for an early breakfast. You enjoyed the days like these, the cloudy, misty days where the suns rays barely peeked through, adding a slight glow to the scenery.

It had only been a couple weeks since you and Melanie had first opened this shop in the small town of Forks, Washington. You needed a break from the busy streets of London where you grew up, which is why you moved to the US with her years ago. You had actually met her when she was touring London years ago and you two became joined at the hip ever since you discovered you both were witches. Her being a green kitchen witch and you being, well it was much harder to explain to her what kind of witch you were, since it was rare and even shunned in most covens due to the harm it caused to others. You were in fact, a blood witch. But being a blood witch came with a curse, and that was the ability to cause death and decay to anyone you touch. Which is why you wore gloves and prevented any form of physical contact. But Melanie didn’t care about that part of you and put all that aside and welcomed you with open arms, without touching your bare skin of course. You two had lived in California for some time before she finally convinced you to move down here to Forks with her.

“You seem happy today.” You hear Melanie now beside you, gazing out at the scenery as well with her hands in the pockets of her pumpkin orange curdory pinafore, her sapphire floral print sleeves rolled up at her elbows and her hair tied up with a yellow gingham scarf.

“I am. It is the peace and serenity to thank for.” You smile to yourself. And it was in fact what you longed for, for a long long time.

You both returned to your work stations shortly afterwards as you started to get your regular customers. Thankfully, so far everyone has been kind and welcomed you two to their town.

“Another chai latte for you Mrs.Garcia?” You asked the elder woman that came in with her big bag of knitting supplies as she came up to the counter.

“Oh yes please, my dear.” She answers with a chirpy voice, her eyes wrinkled at the corners from her smile as she hands the money to Melanie while you make up her drink.

She took her drink from your hands and wobbled over to a chair in the corner by the window. Setting her things down and beginning to knit on a little sweater she’s been working on for her grandson.

An hour passed and you greeted all your customers with a smile. Some of them would grab their coffee and go straight back to work, while others stayed for a while with a coffee in one hand and a book that they purchased in the other.

Everything was as sound as it could be until someone new stepped in your shop, someone you had never expected to see. You had your back turned, working on a cappuccino for a customer as you heard the individual order a black coffee and a vanilla latte from your friend. You stopped short, something seemed off. It felt as if the world came to a stop around you and you couldn’t seem to picture why. You turned around to hand the cappuccino to the previous customer before shifting to greet the person that just came in. As you took in the sight of the man across you, you felt your body freeze up. You couldn’t move a muscle from the shock as you stood there with your eyes widened and your mouth agape.

Jasper?

You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing came out. It felt like someone currently had a rope around your throat, suffocating the air out of you. The man turned to you now, a few strands of his blonde hair falling out from behind his ear and in front of his eyes as he stood to take in your appearance. His eyes, the same eyes that used to look at you with adoration, ones you once remember as being the color of the forest were now a yellow gold and devoid of any emotion towards you. And his skin, once tan from his days being spent in the Texas sun, was now stripped of all color and left pale, like a blank canvas.

So it’s true. He was turned.

His eyes searched your face, confused at your shocked expression as you still stared at him like a deer in headlights.

For goodness sake, don’t just stand there, say something.

“Are you alright miss?” His voice brought you out of your daze, forcing you to grip onto the counter to prevent yourself from collapsing.

“I’m uh, uh, yeah, I’m I’m fine, sorry.” You stutter out, struggling to find the words to say.“You uh, um you just. Sorry, I-I thought you looked like someone I knew. Must be the hair, sorry.”

You let out a panicked laugh and place a strand of your hair behind your ear, trying to avoid his gaze as you bite your lips to prevent them from trembling.

“Pardon me, but do I know you miss?” He furrows his brows at you.

If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’d recognize you. but he didn’t, he couldn’t have, and oh did your chest tighten in pain from this.

Jasper felt a slight pull in the back of his mind upon seeing your face, something told him that he knew you, but his mind kept drawing a blank. And yet the swirl of emotions that you were currently feeling was altogether much more confusing for him.

“You’ve probably just seen me around town.” You give him a convincing smile, “I moved here not too long ago.”

“Oh, I suppose that could be it.” He smiles politely with a slight nod. “Welcome to Forks then.”

You give yet another awkward smile before turning back to the coffee maker to prepare his 2 drinks. You were so caught up in his presence that you failed to see the smaller woman now walk up to him, linking her arm with his.

“This is a nice little place isn’t it Jasper?” You heard her speak to him in this angelic voice.

“I believe it is darlin.”

Darlin. He used to call you that.

“I also found a book that I might like to read.” She shows him the cover of an old book to which he smiles at.

You silently watched the couple from the corner of your eye. The way they held each other and gazed into each other’s eyes.

He used to look at you like that.

You were nearly trembling now as you had your back turned to them, your eyes threatening to shed some tears. You took in a deep breath, forcing you to compose yourself as you turned back around to place their drinks on the counter for them to grab. You didn’t dare try to hand it to him directly, you feared that the brief contact of your fingers might be too much, and that you’d explode into a pile of misery in front of him. And you didn’t want that.

You managed to take a good look at her this time and my goodness was she gorgeous. She was ghostly pale as well, which was a stark contrast against her dark hair. And she had this pixie like aura about her that you couldn’t help but admire.

“Thank you sweetie.” The woman beamed at you, both of them grabbing their drinks before leaving out your shop with their arms still linked together.

You watched them leave out of sight, your knuckles turning white from gripping the counter. You wanted the world to open up and swallow you, leaving you in an abyss, far away from the world and the people in it. Jasper Whitlock. You never thought you’d hear that name again, much less see the man himself. And you never thought it would hurt so much to see him again before you, without a clue in his mind as to who you were.

A/N: Part 2???

#jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x you #jasper hale imagine #jasper whitlock imagine #Jasper Whitlock x reader

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geekgirles · 3 years

Text

Your Heart

Chapter 2 -- The Invitation

Word Count: 8,903

READ ON AO3

Hours could have passed since Sam received the letter and she wouldn’t have noticed, the events were so unreal her mind still hadn’t been able to fully register them. What was supposed to be a day like any other suddenly passed by in a blur. And no matter what she did, she just couldn’t make sense of it all.

The moment Star gave her the letter, the queen recognised the logo engraved on the seal closing the envelope. That forsaken logo had made daily appearances on the news for the last three years, when he started using and associating it to his person.

Danny Phantom.

The current Ghost King.

Nothing could’ve prepared her for the feeling of astonishment that came with that simple realisation. Such was her stupor that, once her back collided against her black mahogany vanity, her legs lost all strength to support her weight, slowly sliding down until Sam was seated on the floor of her chambers. Eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

Terror gripping at them at the sight of their, otherwise collected, queen, the handmaidens immediately scurried over her, checking for any sign that would imply their leader needed any sort of assistance.

A million thoughts materialised inside Sam’s head. How did the Ghost King know there were witches in Amity Park? Did all ghosts know they weren’t the only otherworldly creatures blending in with humans? How did the Ghost King know where to find them? Were her people in danger?

But most importantly, why did the infamous Danny Phantom write her for?

Grimacing, Sam figured there was only one way to find out. With a shaking hand, she gestured for Star to bring her the envelope. Concern still apparent on the blonde’s features, for her queen must have truly been too stunned to perform magic herself, she nonetheless did as she was instructed. “Fluito,” she whispered, and immediately afterwards an orange, fire-like aura surrounded the envelope, until the object came to them.

Sam gripped the envelope like a life line and, with trembling hands, broke the wax seal to get to the letter inside. What she found only made matters worse:

“Dear Madam,

I hope this message finds you well. I would not be able to reprimand you if my sudden writing to you took you by surprise; I found myself disbelieving of my own actions, after all.

I wish to inform you on an important occurrence I believe deserves your attention. However, I will not be able to describe said occurrence through this letter, unfortunately. I fear it might be intercepted by those who would give anything to see me fall, or perhaps by your own enemies if you were to have them.

It is because of such circumstances that I formally invite you and whoever you decide as members of your entourage to my lair in the Ghost Zone, in hopes that we will be able to discuss these matters without fear of our respective domains being put in jeopardy.

In order to save ourselves some time, if you were to accept my proposal, you and your entourage shall go to the outskirts of Amity Park in a week’s time, where one of my subjects will be waiting for you.

I eagerly await your answer,

King Phantom.”

Once she was done reading the letter, Sam could only gape at it. That had been an eternity ago, and now she was pacing up and down her room, massaging her temples as she tried making sense of it all.

When the initial shock from the Ghost King’s message had finally worn off, Sam proceeded to re-read the letter, in case she misunderstood the spectre’s motives and he was actually requesting something far more reasonable than her company. Like declaring war on them. Ghosts and witches going to war with each other made much more sense than members of both species ーthe leaders of both species, as a matter of factー willingly being near the other for the first time in 328 years.

But she came back empty-handed. And that could only mean one thing; she had to read the letter again because, clearly, her reading comprehension wasn’t as good as she thought. And so, Sam read the letter for the third time...and the fourth time...and the fifth time...

By the time she had already read the accusing piece of paper for the eleventh time, she finally understood her company was exactly what Phantom was requesting of her. But why?

“If you keep going in circles like that, you’re gonna get dizzy,” Paulina chimed in, watching as her queen paced around the room, muttering nonsense under her breath. “Or what’s worse, you’re going to make me dizzy.”

“Pauli’s right, Sam. Drawing a hole on the floor will get you nowhere.” Star agreed, her own eyes following the raven-haired girl’s every move. In any other circumstances, say, if Pamela were around, the two girls would get in trouble for addressing the Witch Queen so casually. However, once they were assigned to her and Sam discovered the usefulness of their talents, the three young women had soon agreed to treat each other informally whenever they were away from prying eyes.

Sam wholeheartedly believed familiarity was the key to winning someone’s trust. Because of that, she allowed for witches as loyal as her ladies-in-waiting to get close to her, while keeping anyone she suspected of being troublesome at a respectful distance.

Nibbling on her thumb, a clear sign of her distress, Sam shook her head. “Girls, you don’t understand. This simple letter could lead to disastrous consequences! And I’m not talking about whatever it is that that forsaken Phantom wants from me, which is a whole new level of worrying; I’m talking about the possibility of our clan being compromised!” The Latina and the blonde started when Sam abruptly stopped pacing, stomping her foot against the floor to get their attention. “If the ruler of a race we haven’t had any contact with in more than three centuries knows where to find us, who’s to say the rest of Amity Park remains blissfully unaware of our very existence? This is The Great Burning all over again!” She bellowed in anguish.

This was bad. This was very bad. Unlike ghosts, who revelled in wreaking havoc amongst mortals and drawing attention from it, witches had long decided to remain off the humans’ radar. For centuries, they blended in with normal men and women, pretending to be just like them, while they carried out their spells, rites, and ceremonies away from the public eye in the safety of their manor.

The existence of their society was their best-kept secret, and they’d be damned if such information got leaked. For starters, that pesky witch hunter they often brushed off could very well turn into a real threat.

The fact that their secret depended on a ghost of all things made Sam’s insides churn in fright and rightful outrage.

“Alright, you have a point,” Paulina conceded, but to her companions’ shock her worried gaze soon morphed itself into a swoon, “But you can’t deny that the Ghost King is a total hunk. I’m so jealous of you right now.” She sighed, her mind clearly elsewhere.

Scowling darkly at the Latina, Sam turned to her other lady-in-waiting, “Star, please, do me a favour and smack her. Hard.”

The blonde did as she was told and hit her friend on the back of her neck, eliciting a complaint from her.

Sending a glare to her fellow witch, Paulina began to gently rub the area. “You don’t have to do everything she tells you, you know?”

“Um, Pauli? She’s the Queen...You know, as in our boss? I literally have to do everything she tells me.” She reminded her, earning herself a huff from the aggravated girl. She then turned to her queen, her own eyes sparkling with excitement. “Paulina’s got a point, though. For a dead guy with ice powers, he sure is hawt. Watching him save the day is the highlight of my week!”

Sensing an aura filled with murderous intent, Star flinched slightly under Sam’s withering glare. “He’sーstillーaーghost.” Her queen said through gritted teeth.

Watching the interaction, the Latina beauty sniffed in displeasure, “Hey, no fair! You haven’t told me to hit her for drooling over the Ghost King!”, she whined.

“Girls, focus! This is serious!” Sam snapped.

Her fellow witches actually had the decency to look down in shame at her outburst. “Uh...right, sorry.” Paulina apologised sheepishly.

Somehow, something about the girl’s apology didn’t sit well with Sam. Their knowing smirks, staring down at her as if they knew a secret she didn’t, sent goosebumps down her spine. “What?”

Paulina raised her palms up in surrender. “Nothing. It’s just that I thought you’d be more appreciative of Phantom’s physique given your...preferences.” She finished with a coy smile.

That comment sent the Witch Queen reeling, which wasn’t helped in the least by Paulina’s smug look and Star’s snickering by her side. Her preferences? Was she serious? “Excuse me? Just because I’m a Goth doesn’t mean I’m necrophiliac! I’m not that hardcore, andー! ...why are you laughing?”

Sam’s indignant defence of her lifestyle was met with her two informants doubled over in laughter. Sam could do nothing but stare on, dumbfounded. After a few minutes, they seemed to finally calm down. Star, resting her weight over Paulina’s hunched over form, wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye as her laughter died down. “Sam,” she panted, “what Pauli means is that Phantom looks a lot like your ex. White hair, green eyes...Ring a bell?”

The young witch spluttered at that. Now that she thought about it, Danny Phantom was remarkably similar to her ex-boyfriend, Gregor...or Elliot, or whatever he called himself now. All the more reason to distrust the so-called ‘hero of Amity Park’.

“Whatever”, she huffed, before her expression turned downcast. Plopping down on the starry covers of her bed, she raised her hands to her head as she leaned forward. DeMilo came hopping to her, nuzzling her leg with its stem.

No matter how the Ghost King looked, he had still addressed her by personally sending her a letter. The location of her clan’s headquarters was a secret almost as well-kept as the very existence of her sisters. Whatever she chose to do could endanger hers and their fellow covens!

On the one hand, ghosts were treacherous and conniving. If she went to the Ghost Zone as per requested of her, she could be falling into a trap, bringing chaos and anarchy upon her own coven with her, for she was still too young to have an heiress of her own. And since there were no other purple-eyed witches, her demise would bring forth internal battles for control.

She couldn’t afford that to happen.

But, on the other hand, ghosts were also malicious and resentful. There was a reason why they remained stuck in their realm instead of moving on! If she were to refuse the invitation, they could either attack or reveal their existence to the humans in retaliation. Either way, it would have disastrous consequences for her coven...if they even survived the onslaught.

She certainly couldn’t afford that to happen either.

Sighing through her nose, in an effort to keep her head clear of any doubt, her gaze steeled. Turning to look at her handmaidens straight in the eye, all sense of familiarity gone, she gave but one simple order. “Arrange a Council meeting. Immediately.”

Understanding the gravity of the situation, her companions bowed down to her before hastily making their exit.

....................

Council meetings took place in the attic of the manor. What in any other house would be a dusty, dark place clattered to the ceiling with old furniture, boxes whose descriptions didn’t match their contents, and the stuff of nightmares of any five-year-old, the attic where the Amity Park Coven gathered was closer in size to a ballroom.

The rows of seats formed a “u” shape, being close to the walls and leaving the middle of the room, which was dedicated to witches making their cases or taking the floor, empty. On the far corner of the room, between the rest of the witches acting as witnesses to the meetings, was the podium where the Council sat down and presided over the room.

The Council consisted of four witches. The leader was the Queen, who oversaw the process and spoke for her and her fellow members once they’d reached a decision. Her second-in-command, and therefore the one who was in charge whenever it was the Queen herself that brought up a case or proposal to deliberate about, was the witch with the most proficiency at spellcasting after the clan’s head. The coven’s “Minister of War” was the best potion-maker in the clan. And, finally, the sorceress in charge of maintaining their anonymity amongst humans was she who was the most proficient shapeshifter.

Her interlaced hands resting on the wooden table from where she’d make her proposal in the middle of the room, Sam met her colleagues’ curious eyes with a determined gaze of her own. She could feel her mother’s disapproving glare on herーPamela never liked it when her daughter brought attention to herself, because it would mean that, if things went awry, all eyes would turn on herー, she could hear her people’s hushed voices, whispering among themselves, wondering what could possibly be so important to deserve an impromptu Council meeting summoned by the Queen herself.

But her mind was made up. Informing the Council in hopes of approval was a mere formality she simply could not avoid.

Clearing her throat, Margaret, the clan’s best spellcaster, stood up from her seat, silencing the room by drawing attention to herself with that simple action.

Margaret was a woman in her fifties. Her Grandma Ida used to tell her that when she was Sam’s age, she used to be quite the lookerーher mother often had to use a spell or two to send her suitors running. Even now, the woman still retained some of her youthful beauty. A woman of average height, Margaret’s sharp features hinted at an equally sharp mind. With chocolate skin, her green eyes hid an intellect and common sense that had often saved the clan from ruin, even during her Grandma’s reign. Her salt-and-pepper hair was cut short, with slightly longer strands framing her diamond-shaped face. The woman’s fashion sense was a reflection of her responsible and professional nature, wearing a business suit consisting of a forest green jacket and skirt over a white shirt. Adorning her neck was a mustard kerchief and, Sam was willing to bet, she was wearing her favourite black heels.

“Your Majesty,” Margaret addressed her, “as you will understand, your sudden wish for a Council meeting has rendered us rather perplexed. We can only assume that whichever matters you wish to discuss must be of importance.”

It was Sam’s turn to stand up from her chair, “Of utmost importance.”

“Then, by all means, proceed.” The Council member nodded, gesturing at Sam.

“My dear subjects, just like your day has been disrupted by this sudden meeting, mine has been disrupted by a most unusual, and might I add disturbing, occurrence. As I was getting dressed in my quarters, readying myself to fulfill my duties of the day, one of my handmaidens came rushing in, a letter in her hand.” Sam braced herself for what came next, “The author of the letter is no other than Danny Phantom, the current Ghost King.”

Everyone gasped at the revelation. Soon after the surprise had worn off, chaos ensued. Indignant cries, questions asked aloud, and general confusion reigned. And who could blame them? Witches and ghosts had cut all ties that bound them centuries before.

“Order, order!” Wilhelmina, the coven’s greatest potion-maker and Minister of War, demanded as she repeatedly slammed the podium with her bare hands.

Once the commotion had died down, Margaret refocused her steely gaze on their Queen. “Your Majesty, please, do explain the contents of this letter.”

“Due to the Ghost King’s fear of the letter being intercepted by his enemies, the message was short yet direct. He wishes to discuss a matter of urgency with me, for which he has officially invited me and whoever I choose as members of my court to his lair in the Ghost Zone.”

Again, the room broke out in gasps and hushed questions Sam didn’t have the answer to. Then came the question Sam simultaneously dreaded and anticipated the most, “And what do you wish to do, your Majesty?”

“I wish to accept his proposal,” was her answer.

All Hell broke loose at her words, only this time, Wilhelmina herself was participating in it. Wilhelmina was a pudgy woman with a round face and a strong will. A woman in her late thirties to early forties, her fair complexion was spotted by countless freckles. She was relatively plain-looking, with auburn hair that she often wore in a tight bun and dark eyes, but judging from the rumours going around, her fiery personality landed her several conquests. Despite what her strong personality might imply, Wilhelmina favoured loose-fitting dresses, such as the dark blue and white polak-dotted one she was currently wearing, and sandals.

The potion-maker was one of the most outspoken in her hatred of ghosts, which in itself was common among witches. The resentment from all those years ago had never really faded, and ever since those damned spectres mysteriously reappeared, old wounds had reopened.

While both Grandma Ida and Sam advocated for steering clear from them unless provoked, Wilhelmina was a firm believer that they should have got rid of the spirits as soon as they first appeared, starting with Danny Phantom. A conviction that was only intensified the moment he was named King of the Ghosts.

“All in all”, Sam mused to herself, “she’s taking it way better than I expected.” The raven haired girl patiently waited until Margaret had, once again, everything under control. Due to her stick-by-the-book nature, the African American woman did not appreciate when one of her fellow Council members encouraged unruly behaviour.

“Your Majesty, this is preposterous!” Wilhelmina bellowed, slamming her hands down on her desk as she hastily stood up. “That husk of a person dares request your presence and you accept the invitation?! Forgive me, my Lady, but nothing good can come out of it.” A murmur of agreement could be heard throughout the room. Their Minister of War was right; what was their Queen thinking?

Then, she added, “Then again, what can we expect from a naive twenty-one-year-old girl.” Her words elicited a gasp from the crowd. On her part, although Sam was dying to tell her off, she masterfully remained impassive, only raising a questioning eyebrow at her direction. Her Grandma would’ve been so proud of her.

Margaret cleared her throat. “Although that last comment was uncalled for,” she admitted, shooting a glare at her colleague for her callous words, “Wilhelmina is right when she says attending this meeting would be...unorthodox,” ーSam had to admit, Margaret was almost as good as her mother at carefully choosing her words to appear as socially acceptable as possible. Almostー, “there is also great danger. We all know what happened the last time our people trusted ghosts; are we really willing to let them make fools out of us again?”

“I say this is ground for war!” Wilhelmina roared. “Your Majesty, you and your grandmother, may she rest in peace, gave orders to avoid confrontation unless provoked. Well, now we are being provoked, by being set up! We cannot let this...this...third rate ‘hero’”, she air-quoted with a scoff, “insult us like that and go scott free!”

“Wilhelmina, let her Majesty explain her reasoning. I’m sure she has thought this through.” Delilah, the clan’s expert shapeshifter, tried placating her fellow witch. Sam could only smile in gratitude.

At 28, Delilah was the youngest Council member, second only to Sam. Despite the usual naiveté and unrealistic optimism attributed to her youth, Delilah was also the one most willing to listen to the other side of the story. She preferred broadening her horizons before making a verdict, trying to understand where the witch in question was trying to get at. And this time, she was trying to understand why Sam would want to go to the lion’s den.

The shapeshifter’s natural beauty was also unmatched. Paulina would sometimes seethe in jealousy at the attention she would get or how effortlessly she pulled any look the Latina herself had trouble with. Narrow shoulders and hips, a well-defined burst, legs for miles… Delilah was any man’s fantasy! With her smooth, caramel skin. Her strikingly blue eyes and long lashes. And her silky, ebony hair she often styled in a long braid. Her fashion sense was so on point it could put any haute couture designer to shame. For instance, to that meeting she wore an off-shoulder, long-sleeved red mini dress, a black belt with a golden buckle tightened around her waist, and knee-high black leather boots.

Wilhelmina nodded reluctantly, crossing her arms. Smiling at that, Delilah turned to Sam. “Your Majesty, please, proceed.”

Sam breathed in deeply. Phantom’s request had piqued her interest; what could the ruler of the Ghost Zone possibly want from her and her people now that his kind roamed freely around the city? The last seven years both species had avoided each other like the plague, and even if they hadn't, nothing they could’ve done would warrant meeting up after centuries apart. Despite all her doubts and questions she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers to, Sam needed to know, above all else, if her people were safe. Determination coursing through her veins, she spoke up:

“As you all know, when I ascended to the throne, taking the mantle from my grandmother, I swore on my life and honour that everything I would do, every single decision I would take, would be with our safety in mind.

“When I read the Ghost King’s letter, I was as stunned as you are now. A thousand questions running freely through my mind. I have thought about this long and hard, until I reached my decision.” She lay her eyes on the potion-maker, “Wilhelmina, you are in your right to be suspicious of his intentions, for so am I, but just like this could be a trap, not answering their call could also very well be our downfall.

“Ghosts are mischievous, resentful, and self-centred. Everything they do is based on what gives them even the smallest amount of satisfaction, which often means that the only way to appease them is doing as they say.” When Margaret opened her mouth to intervene, Sam silenced her with a raised palm. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but it is. And that is not all. You might think I am making this choice lightly, but nothing further from the truth. In accepting Phantom’s proposal, I am trying to prevent the ghosts from retaliating, for they could endanger us if I were to refuse in revenge.”

Her violet eyes shone with fiery determination and unwavering confidence as she spoke her last words, “My decision is made. I shall go to the Ghost Zone, even if I must do so on my own. But I will protect our clan if it’s the last thing I do.”

A deafening silence hung in the air. Nobody even moved. Finally, Margaret intertwined her fingers, her shoulders resting atop her desk, her body moving forward. Her green eyes betrayed none of her feelings on the matter. “Very well. Feel free to request anything you might need from us. Have a safe journey, my Queen.”

And with that, every single witch present rose from her seat, bowing their heads to their leader as a sign of respect and submission.

She’d done it. She was going to go to the Ghost Zone.

......................

Once the meeting was over, Sam got ready to leave the room to start preparing as soon as possible when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Delilah smiling at her. She smiled back.

“Is everything alright, Delilah?” Since the shapeshifter and her were close in age, she was one of the few witches Sam acted casually to, seeing her as some sort of older sister.

Delilah shook her head, the smile never leaving her face. “I just wanted to wish you luck, Sam. You’re not just our queen, you’re also the first witch to visit the Ghost Zone in centuries!”

“I know.” Sam looked down on the floor, feeling slightly uneasy.

Sensing her discomfort, Delilah soon changed the topic. “Also, I just wanted to tell you that your Grandmother would have been incredibly proud.”

Sam gasped. Family was taboo around Delilah, for her family had the misfortune of dying young. Delilah’s own mother had died when her daughter was just fifteen. For her to bring up Grandma Ida...she must have meant every single word she said.

“Thank you, Delilah. That means a lot.”

With one squeeze of her hands, the blue-eyed beauty left her alone.

......................

That night, after a long, nerve-wracking day waiting for the Witch Queen’s reply, Danny was startled out of his musings by a ring of his doorbell. Taking off and changing his legs for a ghostly tail, the white-haired young man sprinted down his lair’s corridors until he was face to face with his door.

When he opened it, to his immense relief, he found the same ghostly postman he had sent to deliver his letter, only this time he was handing an envelope to him. Snatching the piece of paper with a quick, “Thanks”, Danny went back to his quarters in a blur.

Now that he had the envelope in his hands, he couldn’t help but eye it curiously. The envelope was of a rich, royal purple in colour, sealed with a black wax stamp, the relief of it drawing a rose.

This is it, he thought. Depending on her answer, we’ll either have to look for another solution, or for ways to protect ourselves the moment they turn their backs on us.

With shaking hands, he ripped open the envelope, taking the letter from inside. An immense relief coupled by a healthy dose of anxiety rolled off of him in waves when his eyes scanned over the words:

“Dear Sir,

I accept your proposal.

We shall meet in a week’s time.

Cordially,

Lady Arcana.”

Preparing themselves for a possible betrayal, it was.

..................

Making it to the outskirts of Amity Park was a hassle Danny hadn’t anticipated. If it weren’t because a group of mysterious women and a ghost suddenly appearing in their lab, in front of the Fenton Ghost Portal, wouldn’t fly with his parents, Danny would’ve actually sent the witches there.

Then again, guiding Skulker out of his family’s ghost portal and around town until they made it to their destination was no picnic, either. Especially since the hunter kept giving him the stink-eye and challenging his authority; questioning his motives for choosing him, of all people, as the sorceresses’ escort.

On top of that, the hills surrounding Amity Park really were the perfect place to meet up with the magic users while keeping the secretive nature of their encounter. Not only were the hills a good forty minutes away from the closest highway, a dense forest grew there, protecting its visitors from curious, unwanted eyes.

“For the last time, Skulker, I am not throwing you to the wolves!” It was the tenth time since they left the Ghost Zone that the ghost had accused him of using him as a decoy. “Seriously, will you drop it already?”

The hunter crossed his arms in a disbelieving huff, “Well, forgive me, your Majesty,” he mocked, “for suspecting you of using this as an opportunity to get rid of one of your detractors.” His glowing green eyes narrowed in distrust.

It was only 11AM and Danny was already exhausted. Technically, Skulker wasn’t exactly a detractor of his rule. When push came to shove, he was always easy to convince to lend a hand in times of needーsuch as now. Having said that, their mutual respect and the halfa’s position didn’t stop Skulker from hunting him for sport now and then. “Listen, me choosing you has nothing to do with your personal feelings about me. You’re really the only one I could send to guide the witches through the Ghost Zone.”

“Nice to know I’m so easily disposable…” Skulker quipped sarcastically. “Why not ask your canine companion for help?”

“Come on, you really think I could send Cujo to do this job?” Danny asked, unamused.

“I was actually talking about Wulf, given he’s the only ghost capable of creating portals.” Skulker met his expression with a raised eyebrow of his own. “I can’t believe you’d actually mix them up.”

Danny actually flushed at that, “W-well…Some ghosts have so many things in common, i-it’s a little bit hard to follow without enough...details…”

The hunter took offence to that. Huffing, he shot the halfa a glare. “Well, excuse us for ‘having so many things in common’”, he air-quoted for emphasis, “not all of us can manifest into the body of a human youth, whelp!”

Exasperated, Danny ran a hand through his hair, sighing through his nose. “I still can’t believe Ember hasn’t dumped you yet…” he muttered under his breath.

Unfortunately for him, Skulker heard him just fine. “Says the boy who hasn’t had a girlfriend since he was fourteen.” Seeing the ghost boy’s offended expression plastered a smirk on his face.

“Why you littleー!” Danny stopped himself before he’d lose his cool. If dealing with Skulker, a ghost he’d known since he was fourteen, was proving to be frustrating, he didn’t want to think how meeting up with the queen of a feuding tribe would be like. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he gave it one last try. “Look, Skulker. As much as I’d love to bicker with you like an old married couple all day, we really don’t have time for this. You’re here because you’re one of the most versatile ghosts I know. If there’s anyone capable of handling a group of spellcasting, broom-riding, black-cat-owning ladies, that’s you.”

Before the metallic spectre could so much as get a word in, the young Ghost King leapt into the air after making a show of looking at his ーinexistentー watch. “Oh, look at the time! The witches will be here any minute now. Better hurry back into the Ghost Zone. See ya!” With a mock salute thrown at Sulker’s general direction, he was gone in a blur of black and white.

The hunter was about to take off after him when, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed three cloaked figures approaching. Well, he sighed in defeat, it’s showtime.

Sam arched a questioning eyebrow at the ghost standing on the appointed place. He looked like the lovechild of Terminatra, one her favourite monsters of all time, and a G.I. Joe. With a flaming mohawk worthy of the Ghost Rider himself. In a way, she guessed it was fitting. Her lip curled in disgust when she eyed the arrangement of weapons strapped to his person; a hunter, no doubt.

If the Ghost King expected to scare her and her guards with such a pathetic display, he had another thing coming. Any other would be at the very least intimidated by the ghost’s burly figure and his imposing aura, but to women who battled grotesque creatures resulting from spells gone wrong on a daily basis, that was nothing.

After getting the approval of the Council for her “little expedition”, Sam recruited two witches: Susan Zhou and Stephanie Baker. To an outsider, taking only two other people with her to face such a powerful entity as Danny Phantom, in unknown territory, no less, would seem foolish, even suicidal. But Sam was no outsider; she knew exactly what she was doing.

Susan was Wilhelmina’s apprentice, and therefore, the clan’s next Ministre of War and master potion-maker once her mentor passed down the mantle to her. Short in height, tall in ambition, the Asian girl’s brown eyes were calculating and, if you were foolish enough to cross her, unforgiving; but full of warmth and mischief if she considered you a friend. She held her black and red-dyed hair in a pair of identical buns, one on each side of her head. Susan always favoured comfortable clothing most people would dedicate solely for doing exercise; you never knew when you’d have to exert yourself, she always said.

Despite being only seventeen years old, she already displayed great proficiency in the art of combat, her dexterous fingers useful both for brewing concoctions and sporting weapons. Susan’s family emigrated from China in the early 19th century. After much traveling, they stumbled upon the origins of what would become Amity Park, where the first members of the clan had already settled. Upon finding out the Zhou family weren’t just witches but also warriors, the coven welcomed them with open arms.

Warrior blood ran through her veins. It was no wonder their war-oriented council member had personally chosen her as her protegée.

Stephanie, however, was more of an intellectual. The 21-year-old woman was an avid reader who spent most of her time holed up inside the manor’s archives, where the spell books and records on their clan’s history were stored. The only other person who knew the place better than Stephanie herself was Delilah, who was actually its guardian. But since Sam couldn’t risk leaving her people without a member of the Council, due to her departure being risky enough, she asked Stephanie for help instead.

In truth, everything about the young woman screamed bookworm. Stephanie was a rather plain-looking girl, with a lanky figure and a long face, whose pale blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of oval-shaped glasses. Her straight, strawberry blond hair reached a little past her shoulders, and she was wearing a purple and white striped t-shirt with an equally purple pencil skirt and white sneakers.

As soon as they neared the place where the ghost was standing, Sam nodded at him in acknowledgement; a mere formality given her low opinion on the spectre, which, she was sure, was mutual on his behalf.

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Skulker warned the witches in his care, “No funny business, ladies. Or I might consider reforming my island so I can have more pelts hung on my walls.” He sent them a malicious grin.

While Sam rolled her eyes at the unnecessary threat and Stephanie flinched away from him in fright, Susan bore her teeth in aggravation. “I’d like to see you try, ghost.”

Both teenager and hunter stared the other down, but before they had the chance to jump at each other’s throats and brawl, the Witch Queen raised a placating hand, effectively telling her subject to stand down. Still, Susan would’ve given anything to wipe that smug look from the ghost’s face.

But Sam really hadn’t the time to keep those two in check. Focusing on the energy within her, she blocked everything around her, every possible distraction, out of her mind. All that mattered was her connection to her anima. Once she felt the familiar tingling of power, she extended a hand: Stephanie’s signal to take the magic grimoire out of the duffel bag she carried and hand it to her queen with a bow of her head.

Skimming through the pages, Sam stopped when she found what she was looking for. A section of the spell book portraying the silhouette of a person in front of a swirling opal, several runes surrounding it.

The spell to open up portals.

Once upon a time, any witch would have been able to conjure the spell without the need to check it out in a book, but ever since witches and spectres parted ways, her people no longer had the same use for it anymore. Nowadays, it was an almost forgotten practice.

Taking a deep breath, Sam extended her free hand in front of her and chanted, “Alium se orbem terrarum ad ianuam.” Soon, a familiar sparkly, violet mist emanated from her fingertips. The manifestation of energy rose into the air until it was the size of an average person, and then began to spin up and down, until a portal was in front of them.

Stephanie raised a confused eyebrow at Skulker when she thought she heard him mutter something along the lines of, “Show off”, but squeaked and looked away when the hunter lay his own eyes on her.

Handing the book back to the bestacled girl, Sam motioned for them to enter the portal. What they saw on the other side left them speechless.

The Ghost Zone was nothing like they had imagined. Instead of a clear difference between earth and sky, their world’s parallel dimension seemed to consist solely of a never ending abyss composed purely by ectoplasm, the most reminiscent thing to a floor it had being a few beat-up pathways made out of rock.

Floating in mid-air were all sorts of lairs. Some, like a faraway island in the shape of a skull, far more pretentious than others. Judging by how scarce those were in comparison to the countless doors with no building to be attached to in sight, Sam figured the more powerful a ghost was, the bigger its lair would be.

Which bore the question: what would Danny Phantom’s lair be like?

Sam was snapped out of her thoughts by the ghost hunter suddenly materialising in front of her. Susan was about to unsheathe a few of her most lethal potions when the apparition simply showed them the way with a motion of his hand. “This way.” He turned around and began walking, after a minute or two, though, he turned his head to them, “Oh, and by the way, if any of you is afraid of heights, you’d better not look down.”

Stephanie gazed down, unbidden, and almost fainted. Below them was nothing but an endless abyss, no land on sight. Feeling queasy, she squeaked, “Dutifully noted.”

They walked along the rocky path for what could’ve been hours or mere minutes, the absence of a sun making it difficult to accurately pinpoint the passage of time. After what felt like an eternity, Skulker abruptly stopped, almost making Sam and her entourage bump on him in the process, pointing somewhere in front of him.

“Well, this is it, ladies. The Ghost King’s lair.”

Standing proudly on top of a drifting piece of land was a brick three-story building. If Sam hadn’t known any better, she’d think she was looking at an apartment complex, rather than a king’s castle. Then again, Skull Island ーas she lovingly nicknamed the placeーwas very tacky for a powerful’s ghost lair, so for all she knew the building before her could be the latest scream in home decor in the Ghost Zone.

While it was a mostly modest space, the highest floor in particular stood out for its large picture windows, which were at least three times bigger than the rest. “That must be Phantom’s chambers”, the violet-eyed girl guessed. “Overseeing your subjects, eh, your Majesty?”

When they arrived at the door, they were momentarily startled when it opened on its own accord. The Witch Queen scoffed at her own ridiculous behaviour; she’d seen and done way scarier things on Halloween, for fuck’s sake! Once inside, Skulker guided them through several corridors, taking so many turns in so many different directions it was enough to render anyone disoriented. As they strode down the halls, Sam took notice of how...sterile the lair was. Most walls were bare of any decorations, at most they’d have some sort of blue wallpaper on. The few walls with paintings hanging from them were decorated by rather impersonal portraits: a picture of an ectoplasm swirl here, a portrait of a shapeless ghost there… Instead of a castle interior, this looked more like a cheap Halloween haunted house.

The place was so barren that she noticed the shift immediately. Suddenly, before her were two large, mahogany doors, which, once again, opened without any exterior help, revealing the throne room.

While still impersonal, the space was much grander in every single sense of the word. Granite, Corinthian columns stood proudly on the sidelines. Several tapestries depicting what Sam could only guess was Danny Phantom’s battle against Pariah Dark and a few other adventures she couldn’t recognise hung from the ceiling. Right in front of them a red velvet carpet was rolled down until it reached the throne itself ーa rather modest metal chair with black velvet upholsteryー where the infamous Ghost King was seated on.

Upon their arrival, the ghostly monarch stood up in respect. “At least he’s not arrogant enough to forsake manners”, Sam quipped internally. Standing at both sides of him were a bipedal, arctic-wolf like creature with an arm encased in ice, and a blue spectre wearing a hooded outfit, a sceptre in hand, whose physical form was constantly fluctuating between child, adult, and old man.

As the Queen and her companions neared the throne, and hence, the so-called Hero of Amity Park, she took him in. Snow white hair, glowing green eyes that appeared capable of staring right through you, a black and white hazmat suit over a well-built physique… Yep, in front of her was Danny Phantom, alright.

The only thing making it obvious that she would be addressing the Ghost King instead of the most controversial public figure in town was a very minor, yet significant, change in his appearance.

Draped over his shoulders was a cape, white on the outside and black on the inside, with two verdigris medallions which had engraved that wretched logo of his keeping the garment in place with the help of a chain. Resting on his shock white hair, reflecting the item’s otherworldly glow, was the Crown of Fire; its green embers burning almost as intensely as the Phantom’s radioactive green eyes. The crown’s partner, the Ring of Wrath, surrounded his white, gloved ring finger. One could feel the raw power emanating from its green material. The mere sight of the engraved skull and its unforgiving, blood red, ruby eyes was enough to send anyone subjected to it running.

But there was no way Sam would ever run away after making it this far.

Danny observed patiently as the Witch Queen and her two companionsーonly two?ー arrived before him. Once they were eye-level (or as eye-level as two people could be when someone was standing over an incline) the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park took off her hood. At the sight before him, Danny had to fight very hard to suppress a sharp inhale in surprise.

He supposed that, in hindsight, expecting the queen to look like an stereotypical wrinkly old lady was a tad narrow-minded of him, but in all fairness, nothing would’ve prepared him for the person standing right in front of him.

Upon taking off her hood, silky, raven hair came cascading down until it reached a little past her shoulders, the strands and diamond-shaped fringe framing her heart-shaped face. Smooth, ivory skin contrasted greatly with the mop of hair, black as night, resting on her head. Her full, velvety lips were emphasised by her purple lipstick. And her long, mascara-coated lashes surrounded a pair of amethyst orbs. Those had to be the most tantalising eyes he had ever seen; a galaxy of mystery lay hidden behind their depths.

Lady Arcana was the kind of woman he would’ve tripped himself over for, back in high school. Now a college student...he might’ve signed up to a couple of classes that had absolutely nothing to do with his degree if it meant seeing her again.

Looking down, and praying to all things above him it wasn’t noticeable, he took notice of what the sorceress was wearing. The Queen was wearing an off-shoulder ball gown, of a pale violet in colour, with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice hugged her body until it flared down into the skirt. Adorning its neckline and hem were embroidered black thorns. Resting on her head lay a silver tiara, with diamond-shaped obsidians running alongside the top ornament, and a noticeably bigger amethyst in its centre. A black and glittery cloak, resembling the night sky, rested atop the young witches’ shoulders.

Beautiful, yet deadly. A clear warning against the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park: get too close, and you will regret it.

Knowing they had much to discuss, the halfa bowed down before her, with a hand behind his back and the other in front of him, making a flourish, as a sign of respect. “Lady Arcana, it is an honour to have you here.”

Sam and her entourage curtsied in response. “King Phantom, the honour is all mine.”

“I will cut to the chase, since the circumstances are unorthodox enough: my people need your assistance.”

Well, at least he was direct… “And what, exactly, is that which you need help with, your Majesty? As much as I would like to aid you, there is not much I can do without knowing the details.”

“And you are in your right to question that, but first…”

With a motion of his hand, a green-skinned, red-eyed maid wearing a blue dress brought a smaller chair close to the king. When his eyes landed on Sam, she understood that was meant for her. If there was one thing experience had told her, that was that being invited to sit down meant it was going to be a lengthy discussion.

When Lady Arcana had sat down, Danny continued. “Now, that’s better.” Seeing her unresponsive expression, he cleared his throat nonchalantly. “What we need your help with is the Ghost Zone’s portals.”

The violet-eyed girl raised a confused eyebrow at that. “The portals?”, Phantom nodded. “But, King Phantom, my people have not had anything to do with your world in centuries! Today was the first time in over three-hundred years that anyone used a spell meant to open portals.”

Leaning forward in an attempt to appear closer and not intimidating, trying to get the witches to underestimate him per Frosbite’s suggestion, Danny explained. “My apologies, your Majesty, I did not mean to imply your people were responsible for the problem. No, what I mean is that only your people can help us control them.”

Sam didn’t understand where this was going. Taking her silence as permission, Danny went on, “As you know, the Ghost Zone has been opening up portals to Earth for millenia, however, many more gates have been opened as of late. Many more than any previous date has ever registered.” Understanding dawning on the queen’s face, Danny pressed. “We wish to ask you to help us close and pinpoint the cause for such bizarre occurrences.”

Sam had mixed feelings about the proposal. On the one hand, random portals opening up was never a good sign; the space-continuum fabric was very delicate. But, on the other hand, her people would gain nothing from it. Nothing but endangering themselves by putting their lives in the hands of ghosts. She had to make sure her trip hadn’t been for nothing and that her people were truly safer for it.

Resting her elbow on the arm of her chair, her legs crossed in boredom, Sam appraised the apparition before her with a pensive frown. “And how exactly, pray tell, would my people benefit from assisting your kind, your Majesty?”

The way she basically spat the word didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired half-ghost. He narrowed his eyes on her. “Well, your people,” he snarled in return, “would be safe, of course.”

Sam’s hopes plummeted. He was all talk, just as she feared. ‘Her people would be safe’? Was he threatening her? Please, they were already in danger solely from his knowing of their existence, let alone their headquarters! With a huff, Sam stood up from her chair. The conversation was over. “Thank you for having us, King Phantom. But I am afraid we must depart.”

Although the original plan was to ask them for help and look for alternatives were they to refuse, seeing the queen walking away from him stirred a primal fear in Danny. Somehow, he knew she was the only one who could help him. They were doomed if he let her slip away. “Lady Arcana, wait!”

His frantic call got Sam to stop. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him her full attention. Seeing he had caught her interest, Danny insisted. “When I said your people would be safe, it wasn’t an empty promise: the sudden appearance of portals is a sign that something is amiss. The more portals open, the more unstable our world becomes.” What he said next was chilling enough to elicit goosebumps to run down their spines. “The Ghost Zone is a parallel dimension to Earth, if our realm is destroyed, so is yours.”

Sam’s eyes widened at his words, even Susan couldn’t stifle a startled gasp. If what he was saying was true, then her people were doomed, regardless of how well-kept their secret was. If she refused his proposal, her subjects and the other clans all over the world would pay greatly for her mistake. However��

Her gaze hardened, determination motivating her actions once again. In the off chance that Phantom was only making things up to get her to agree, she needed to ensure her people wouldn’t pay for her mistake. And there was only one way to do it.

Taking firm steps, she walked resolutely to where the green-eyed spirit stood. Staring deep into his eyes, she made her counterproposal. “Very well, I shall help you with your problem.”

Before Danny could let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, Lady Arcana spoke up again. “But in return for my services you must ensure my people’s safety. Under no circumstances will anyone discover our existence or whereabouts. We already have to deal with a witch huntress coming after us.” She could’ve sworn the king choked at that. “If I find out our way of living has been compromised in any way, you and your kingdom are all alone. Now,” she extended her hand for him to shake, “do we have a deal, King Phantom?”

Danny eyed her suspiciously. Her violet eyes simultaneously held a fiery temper and cold determination, even with his powers, he could sense there’d be Hell to pay if he didn’t keep his part of the deal. Then again, everything they’d ever known was in danger, even if the Queen couldn’t care less for the Ghost Zone and its inhabitants, and her request was what any sensible and caring leader would ask for. On paper it looked like the perfect compromise…

He just hoped he didn’t come to regret it.

Holding the witch’s hand in a firm grip, he shook hands with her. “We have a deal, Lady Arcana.”

#Danny Phantom #DP #dp fanfic #my fanfic #your heart #amethyst ocean #danny fenton #sam manson #Paulina Sanchez #star #star dp #skulker #ocs #ghost king au #ghost king! danny #witch queen sam #witch queen au #enemies to friends to lovers

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tom-riddle-haunts-me · 3 years

Text

Finally, the Reader has a little more space ✨

Hope you enjoy,

Abigail 🐍

Warnings: swearing.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Not As Planned

Tom Riddle x Reader

The infamous Dark Lord begins to orchestrate his oh so dreaded return, but while trying to achieve a new, critical pawn's loyalty to him and his cause, things go not as planned.

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4 - Absence

Getting her next day's lessons ready did no use to Y/n. The extra classes provided by her Family during the summer break still vividly played in her mind, and they had covered most of the year's schedule, reason why she had found herself sighing, interest killed by the reading on the potion they were to brew the day after.

Y/n had kept on reading though, just to make sure the words her grandfather had so gently engraved in her head a few months prior were still bleeding in her skull.

Well, they were.

But that was okay, it was perfect, actually.

An Addams could not afford the liberty to start a school year unprepared.

They had to be the best.

She had to be the best.

You had to be the best.

Not only that, you had to be the best of the best.

Hence why in the current time you were answering questions like there was no tomorrow. You'd always end up being almost the only one to participate in the lesson, professors had nothing against it (I mean, maybe Professor McGonagall did, but you still managed to get most of her questions) and your classmates gladly let you take control of the situation.

Well, almost everyone, actually.

There still was him.

Lazarus thatfuckingbitch Malfoy.

He just had to be an asshole and find every single possible way to get on your nerves, sometimes it felt like he simply enjoyed giving you a hard time. Did he want to die that badly? Weren't the Malfoys just cowards naturally inclined to submit to the strongest bidder?

<Yes, Mr Malfoy?>

To hell with him.

You would have liked to say you had no idea why he was looking at you like that while giving the right answer to Professor Sprout, head of the Hufflepuff House and your Herbology teacher, but you actually knew too well that kind of staring.

He was challenging you.

He was looking for a weak spot, a grain of uncertainty, maybe even fear for a possible defeat.

He had no idea who he was trying to mess with.

You smiled, as if encouraging his little, pathetic show, and apparently he gladly reciprocated the gesture with as much fake kindness as yours.

Professor Sprout had granted the students the permission to swear only during that particular class. She had looked kind of excited while explaining them the plant they were to study that day was a very dangerous one, and honestly, after having the said study's subject in front of you, you had understood why. The greenhouse back at your home was actually guarded by Venomous Tentaculas, hence why you were particularly fond of those "little" monsters.

But now all you could hear were screams from Hufflepuffs and muffled snickering coming from your fellow Slytherins, all you could see a very panicked teacher trying to keep her cool and an unidentified student (probably a Slytherin) being tossed around by a green, spiky, excited vine.

High pitched voices kept bouncing loudly in your skull, picking at your brain like little annoying bites, the chaos was driving you out of your mind.

You had always preferred silence.

In a matter of seconds, everything was quiet once again. As if someone had casted a Full Body-Bind Curse on the entire class, the students were now frozen in their steps, some still gaping, others with their eyes shut so tight they threatened to pop into their skull.

Even the teacher was standing still, shock draining the color out of her gentle face.

Malfoy, though, stood there, unmoved, as motionless as a statue, but finally with something you were dying to see hide behind his placid eyes.

Defeat.

<Oh, oh Merlin! G great job Miss Addams, brilliant thinking! Ten, no, twenty points to Slytherin!>

At this point in time, while the trembling Slytherin boy was being accompanied to the Hospital Wing by Professor Sprout, a receded vine lied lifeless in front of the tall, young man you just morally slapped right across his stupid face.

You won.

And everyone knew.

________________________________

<Yeah, hahahaha, stupid Malfoy! He has no idea what he got himself into! Right Y/n?>

<You're so talented, bloody hell! I couldn't cast a spell that fast for my own life!>

There they were.

<Out.>

Your silky voice rang in the almost empty Slytherin Common Room, making the little group that had gathered around you vanish like smoke in air.

Flies.

Maybe that was the reason why the Malfoy brat intrigued you to that extent.

He was a challenge, not an easy bet.

The dark-haired Slytherin had stormed out the Greenhouse like a hurricane a couple of hours ago and you hadn't heard from him since then. Next class was canceled due to the teacher's "personal reasons", so the Slytherin and Ravenclaw students were left to themselves with a lot of free time. The clever ones retreated to the Library, to catch up whit the massive amount of work the professors had kindly drowned you all with, the stupid ones were out, bathing in the little sun October was blessing Hogwarts' grounds with. So, moral of the story, you were bored to death. Having reviewed today's lessons yesterday and Malfoy nowhere to be seen, you were left with nothing to do but read. Again. The same books you had already finished at home.

Ugh.

You shut the book close and sighed. It wouldn't work.

As soon as you stood up, you heard other students coming down from their dormitories, so you quickly turned to the Common Room's exit and made your way into the school's busy corridors. You had always been the silent type, the solitary one, and from a certain point of view, you had to. From a young age, your family had taught you to mistrust every person you were to get to know in your life, but honestly speaking it didn't bother you keeping a distance from others. Once alone, you could let your mind wander and go to a different place, far away from Hogwarts, from what you called home. You'd always wondered if a place like that was real, if somewhere in the world you would ever have the chance to allow yourself to relax a little bit, let your guard down and maybe laugh genuinely to the twins stupid pranks.

Speaking of the devil.

<I'm always thinking about you, guys. What do you have for me today?>

As always, they each grabbed you by one of your arms and gently dragged you in a quiet place, unnoticed by curious eyes.

Fred started, as excited as always.

<They'll probably end up protecting something that the participants will have to retrieve. Wicked, right?>

George finished, with a big grin on his face.

There was something special about them, you just couldn't let the thought of the two happy behavior out of your mind. You could say that interacting with them was your secret, little guilty pleasure, but no one had to know, right?

Their laughs and silliness were just contagious.

As the twins answered in unison, you shook your head smiling. A tiny, minuscule but luckily restrained part of yourself wanted to keep the money, just a little more, just to talk to them for a bit, but your Addams self immediately handed the brothers their two galleons with the simplest and most polite smile you had. Next thing you know they're hugging you before sprinting away full speed, as if scared you'd curse them, but giggling cheerfully, as their usual, jolly selves.

What a strange duo.

Your favorite one, though.

Carried by your feet, you headed to the Black Lake without a second thought. Knowing the path by heart meant you had to pay no attention to wherever you were going, therefore you could focus on the newly acquired information. Dragons, mh? Interesting.

Who in the Wizarding World had the magnificent idea of letting seventeen years old students deal with freaking dragons?

Guess your father was right about the Ministry being just an overrated, overly-powerful and overly-paid coven of incompetent clowns.

"What a huge waste of time"

The voice in your head sounded uninterested and almost soulless in your ears, a most accurate reflection of what was repeatedly going on in that beautiful mind of yours. Words echoed undefined in your brain, racing around like brooms gone mad. Nonetheless, they melted in a clear whisper, almost comforting your craved loneliness.

E/c eyes quickly glanced around, immediately spotting the still missing presence of the pale brat, now outstandingly deafening in an eerie, heavy way. Not once you had graced someone witch such attention, and even if in that case it was justified and most certainly not a good thing, it unnerved your usually calm self finding your mind wondering where the heck he was or what the bloody hell he was doing.

Was it something you could do better? Was it a place you knew better?

Whatever was going on between you two, though, did have a name.

It was a game.

The prize? Power.

<No, you tell her!>

First years. Sometimes you forgot you were a prefect, and moments like that made sure to rimind you of your duties. Your thoughts faded into an impending headache and you could do nothing but discreetly massage your temple with one hand, while patiently waiting for the three kids to take some courage and grow the guts to call you.

After ten more, long minutes of arguing, finally the little blonde girl in the middle stepped forward and grabbed you by your robe.

You gently swirled around, letting your uniform slide in a delicate way out of the little creature's hand.

<Yes, my dear?>

<I, uh->

<Yes, he did! We have Potions next, Snape will eat us alive!>

You could almost laugh at the expression the little slytherin girl had on her cute bronze face. Her amber eyes were trying to strangle the two boys with way too explicit effort, and her perfectly tamed hair bounced on her warm cheeks whenever she shook her head from side to side, disappointed in her friends' childish behavior.

Ah, younglings.

Your eyes followed her thin hand, which was now pointing to the stairs.

Not wasting any more time, you turned on your heels and reached the first floor in less than it should have taken. When Peeves locked eyes with you, his ever present grin contorted into pure horror, and in a moment of overwhelming panic he sprinted forward, even faster than usual. You had to follow the poltergeist to the second floor, chasing him through the corridors like a wolf after his bleeding prey.

He knew far too well that if you were to raise your voice, he would've been doomed.

<PEEVES.>

Well, shit.

<Books? Peeves doesn't know wh- >

Oh, how you despised his stupid voice.

You straightened yourself and placed your hands behind your back. Taking a frighteningly stern aura, you rose your chin high, as if silently judging the being in front of you and already sentencing your prey's imminent end.

Memories from the girl's first year flashed before the ghost's disembodied eyes and fear took over him, leading his jester self to drop the books to the ground and fly away as fast as his lifeless body could.

The three text books moved from the cold stone floor and neatly stacked themselves under your eyes' will, just to float up middle air and reach your arms, where they gently let their weight go and settled down.

While turning around, your brain managed to register someone's silhouette slide into the girl's bathroom and given your position, you were morally obligated to check, after all classes were just about to start.

And you would've fulfilled your role, if it weren't for the figure now standing in front of you, a black cloak blocking your vision.

<Addams.>

If it was possible, the corridors fell even more silent, and the man a few feet away from you, right beside the bathroom entrance, brought back to your mind the main reason you were spacing out in the middle of the hall. You locked eyes with the teacher for a never ending minute, a wordless exchange that ended up in the two of you parting your ways in complete silence.

___________________________________

After returning the books to the now little bundles of joy, you got back to your journey towards the Black Lake, brain still stuck in the second floor's corridor, on the semblance of a person entering the girls bathrooms.

First of all, Professor Snape had seemed to not notice anyone in there. He was standing right in front of the door but not once he looked that way, so whoever entered didn't want to be seen.

Addams shouldn't put their nose into others businesses.

But that definitely smelled like something suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Especially because the glimpse of a shadow you had taken was the one of a guy.

You had finally reached the lake without even realizing it. Sitting under what you had adopted as your own tree, you mindlessly took you Charms text book out of your robes. Your eyes, though, were full of the scene that kept on tormenting your restless mind and millions of questions started blossoming in your head. You began to make assumptions and plans to solve the question as soon as possible, to let your brain go of the itching sensation the odd coincidence had layed on it. Your eyes lost focus, and as the world around you melted into blurred colors, you fell in your little world, only to be suddenly brought back by a familiar, wheezy voice, almost an inaudible hiss.

Your hand automatically shut the book it was holding closed, your mind now empty and focused only on the voice's source.

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

@simp027

@reneuv

#harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #voldemort #fanfic #reader insert

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years

Text

“It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you!”

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 3060

Warning: My bad writing I guess

Prompt 13, “It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you!”

A/N: Van my darling, my best gal. I hope you enjoy this. I may have been inspired by your baking attempts with this prompt ngl x

Thank you to @canarypoint again you legend x

Also Tumblr really didn’t like me uploading this so I’m sorry if it’s all bunched together.

Tags: @missmonsters2

“It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you”

"Okay, I went to five different stores, nearly killed a guy and almost lost the checklist. However, I managed to find everything you needed to make that dish, Myshka" Nat says, rushing through the kitchen; both hands full of bags filled with ingredients. I wipe the bead of sweat from between my brow and sigh in relief, before leaning towards her and planting a quick kiss to her cheek.

"You are the best assassin and friend a girl could ask for" Nat fakes disgust as she wipes at her cheek.

"Yeah, yeah if I didn't like the idea of you trying to woo her so much. You'd be joining the guy at the store" she grumbles while helping me remove all the ingredients from the bags. We both make quick work at preparing the famous Chicken Paprikash dish and with Nat's amazing abilities at being able to read almost every language it almost seemed effortless.

If we both weren't so bad at cooking.

I keep an eye on the time, anticipating her arrival home. Wanda, Steve, Bucky and Sam had been sent on an undercover mission almost two weeks ago, the whole thing had been kept under the radar with only a few of us in the know.

"You think we have enough time, Nat?"

"Of course, Sam messaged me about half an hour ago. They'll be back in 2 hours that gives us plenty of time to cook this dish and help build up your courage to finally confess your undying love for our, Malen'kaya Ved'ma (little witch). Now stop pacing around, you're making me dizzy"

Since joining the Avengers over a year ago, I've gotten to know each of them very well, already knowing Natasha and Clint from our Shield days it was an easy transition into the great band of supers, that was until I met Wanda Maximoff. Her sparkling hazel eyes and long chestnut hair framing her beautiful face with that shy smile had me a goner from the moment I laid my eyes on her. After a few weeks of being with the team every day for training and team-bonding sessions, the more I realised how much fun and carefree Wanda could be. After speaking to Clint one drunken night about our blossoming friendship outside of the team buildings and training I was dumbfounded by how shocked he was to hear about that side of Wanda which they all only catch small glimpses off. According to Clint after losing her brother she was an empty shell of herself just moving through life as if it was a chore and not a gift to walk this earth.

I guess she just needed a reason to live again.

After that revelation I continued to spend time with her alone, I asked more about her and her life in Sokovia, her face lighting up talking about her family and all the traditions they would follow each year even if her and Pietro weren't overly fond of them. Some nights there were tears as she spoke fondly of her brother and her parents no matter how briefly they were mentioned. She would laugh at all the stories I would tell her about our shield adventures both on mission and around the base, her mouth wide and eyes bright with mischief as I relay the story about how me and Nat unscrewed the screws from one of the vents just enough for Clint to fall through right above Fury's office while he was in a meeting with the council. Since she's been away and radio silent, I've never felt so lost even with Natasha around trying her best to cheer me up and letting me win more sparring matches than ever before.

I take a deep breath in and settle my nerves before helping Nat continue to season the chicken.

"Okay so it says that we have to boil the rice in a non-stick pan? How do we tell the difference?" I look at her dumbfounded.

"For someone who's supposed to be the world’s most smartest, most deadliest assassin you sure are dumb" I state, I can feel her eyes burning into me. If looks could kill...

"Do you want my help or not?"

"No, no I need your help. Thank you Natalia" I say sweetly, smiling innocently at her. She rolls her eyes and continues with the rice.

Once everything is in the cooker and pan, we retreat to the kitchen island, a bottle of beer in hand as we talk about anything and everything. After some time had passed, I'm interrupted by Nat's hand indicating for me to stop talking as she sniffs at the air.

"What is that god awful smell?"

My eyes widen in fear as I start to notice the smoke coming from the pan. I race to grab the fire extinguisher while Nat tries desperately to turn everything off and open the kitchen window. I quickly release the white foam over the pan cutting the small fire off, as I step back my foot slips slightly on the wet floor, sending me crashing to the floor but not before I manage to hit Nat square in the face with the foam. I groan slightly at my now bruised ass and tenderly sit up, leaning against the counter behind me.We both sit in silence for a moment before bursting into laughter, Nat joining me on the floor, so we're shoulder to shoulder.

"Let's agree to never cook again".

"Agreed"

"God damn it, look at my shirt it’s ruined! I can't confess anything to her looking like this! She'd think I'm crazy!" I quickly unbuttoned my shirt revealing a thin, white tank top underneath.

"What the hell happened here?" The most angelic voice exclaims by the kitchen doorway, our eyes widen as we both come to the same conclusion.

She's back. Early.

I quickly scramble to my feet and try to adjust myself accordingly before sending her a beaming smile which quickly turns in a worrying frown after taking in her tired complexion, her hazel eyes no longer holding that bright twinkle whenever she smiles. A large cut visible across her right eyebrow and Sam standing behind her not looking any better.

"Oh my god, Wanda!" I race forward and delicately place my hands on either side of her face, my eyes scanning every inch of skin. She winces slightly before grasping my forearms gently and removing them away from her face.

"Oh Sam, how are you? You want me to help clean up that cut, maybe get you snack" I hear Sam mutter behind us rhetorically.I roll my eyes in good nature as Nat laughs behind me.

"I'm okay, Lumina mea (my light). You should see the other guy" she attempts a small grin before casting her eyes over to the mess that is the kitchen and Nat quietly trying to salvage the meal, with no real joy. I blush at hearing her native tongue slip through at the end of her sentence even if I don't understand the meaning behind the saying.

"Again, I'll ask, what the hell happened in here and why can I smell paprika?" Her cute button nose scrunches adorably as she takes in my crumbled-up shirt and Nat's wet face.

"Oh, well we uh.. decided to try and cook a meal for you guys. We know the mission was rough and wanted to surprise you all, we kind of got carried away" I grimace at my cowardly response, I can feel the disappointment in waves from Natasha's direction.

Okay so I'm not ready to come out with it yet, sue me.

"Oh, you could have waited until I got back and asked me to help. You know how much I love to make paprikash"I can see the hurt in her eyes even though she tries to brush it off with a small smile. She knows what a bad cook Nat is and how much she loves cooking for you both after a rough mission.

Great, you've also offended her.

Good going Y/N.

There's an awkward silence between the four of us before Wanda clears her throat and takes a step back towards the entrance way.

"I'm gonna go and get cleaned up, I'll see you both at the party tonight, yes?" She addressed us both, but her eyes stayed locked on mine. I blush slightly at the thought of her wanting my company.

Please she was addressing you both Y/N, as if you would ever stand a chance.

"Of course, Wanda, we wouldn't miss it" Nat answers for us as I continue to stare at her. I quickly avert my eyes and nod in acknowledgement.

"We'll be there"

Once she leaves a dry towel hits me square in the chest, I instantly catch it while looking up in the direction of the thrower.

"Come on lover girl, let's clean this mess up and order a take away. I'm starving. Also, Sam "we'll be there in two hours" can you not map out a timescale"

"Listen I lost a lot of blood tryna get out of that place, forgive me please" he grumbles jokingly as he sulks out of the room, mumbling about never getting any attention for how badass he is.

***

A few hours pass by and before I know it, I'm making the final touches to my makeup. A loud knock echoes in the room before Nat swings it wide open and struts in looking like a red-headed goddess. Her dark green off the shoulder dress clinging to her in all the right places. With one more stroke of my mascara brush I turn and face my best friend with a grin.

"You ready?"

"If you need me tonight, I'll be behind the bar, slowly drinking my boredom away" "Hey, am I such bad company?!"

"Well youuuu, missy is going to charm your way into Maximoff’s pants. Therefore, you will be too busy to entertain me tonight, Myshka"

"Nat, I don't think tonight is the right time, you saw how she looked in the kitchen today. She doesn't need me pestering her all night"

"Actually, it's the perfect time! Go an' comfort her and if you manage to slip in that you love her then great!" I roll my eyes in good nature before making my way to my door.

"Come on, Romanoff. I need a drink"

***

The party is too loud and overly crowded with people none of us really know with drinks flowing around every part of the room.

"Why does he always feel the need to throw a party every time we finish a mission?"

"Would he be Tony if he didn't? You gotta give him credit though this party is insane" Nat murmurs beside me, making me chuckle in agreement.

My eyes are already scanning for the beautiful brunette avenger. Nat notices me searching and shoves me forward slightly.

"Go find her, I'll be by the bar" with one last shove, I'm left by myself looking out into the crowd.

My eyes finally land on the brown-haired beauty, I bite my lip as I take in her form. A long black flowy dress falls just past her knees with the straps of the dress sitting comfortably just off the shoulder, giving me a great view of her cleavage. Her hair hangs curled and loose over her shoulders, her red lipstick perfectly in place.

God she's beautiful.

As I continue to take her in, I notice an unfamiliar arm resting around her waist. I look up to identify the persons whose arm it is and my heart stops as I witness this man lean his mouth to her ear and whisper some bullshit that makes her laugh out, he pulls back clearly satisfied with the response he got from her. As if sensing a presence her eyes turn and rest upon me, a soft smile forming on those red lips. I quickly drop my gaze and turn away from her, heading straight to the bar; trying hard to blend into the crowd.

"Why the sour face?" Nat questions as she instantly hands me a bottle from behind the bar.

"You didn't tell me she was seeing someone" I sulk to her before taking a big gulp from the bottle, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. Nat's eyebrows pinch together as if confused by my statement. She leans forward slightly over the bar to peer over my shoulder to take a good look at Wanda and the mystery man.

"Who? Matthews? Please that guy wishes he could have her. She's just being polite Y/N" Nat tries to reassure me, but I can't seem to remove the image out of my head.

"It's not like I stood a chance anyway" I grumble grabbing the vodka shot from Nats hand and letting the burning liquid flow down my throat. After a few hours of drinking with Nat; who’s now joined me on the other side of the bar, I start to feel the effects of the alcohol hit me as I laugh out loud from the stupid stories Nat seems to be sharing. Any thoughts of Wanda and her mystery guy fading into the background of my mind.

Or that's what I keep telling myself.

In my daze, I quickly lose my balance on the bar stool but before I could hit the floor, I feel a familiar strong arm wrap itself around me, steadying me on the stool.

"Careful Myshka, you'll end up on your ass" Nat teases as I start to lean heavily against her, sleep fighting to take over.

"Also, just to let you know Maximoff has been looking over here all night and throwing daggers at me, similar to the one she's throwing right now" Nat says clearly amused at the concept. She leans herself further towards me and traces her finger up and down my arm slightly, my eyes widen in surprise before she leans in and whispers:

"Just got with it"

Before I have a chance to question her, I feel a warm body pressed into my back. I gasp slightly at the faint smell of cherries and forest, the smell consuming my senses. I close my eyes briefly knowing that smell all too well. Her lips brush slightly against my ear, making me shiver.

"Can I talk to you in private, Y/N" I barely have time to nod before her arm is wrapping tightly around me and escorting away from Natasha and out of the room. Once we are alone, she releases her hold on me and starts to pace in front of me, her dress sway slightly with each turn. I stand watching her waiting for her to gather her thoughts, I bite my lip anxiously debating whether to make the first move. She stops suddenly and takes a deep breath in before releasing it into the open air and turning to look at me with a heartbroken expression.

"You've been avoiding me all night" I gape at her forwardness before replying defensively:

"No, I haven't, maybe you've been a little preoccupied with prince charming on steroids in there to notice me at all!" She frowns slightly, almost bashfully.

"You mean Matthews? Y/N that guy has a brain of a mouse. I was simply being polite. Anyway, you are one to talk! Are you and Nat ever going to go public because the way shes’s being all handsy with you tonight, you may as well let everyone know!" Now it's my turn to gape at her in shock becoming slightly annoyed.

I take a step towards her slightly wanting to keep her full attention on me as I feel the word vomit slowly creeping its way up my throat.

"Are you being serious right now?! Me and Nat are best friends that's never even been a thought! Are you so blind to see Wanda?! You think I'd go and pick up your favourite flowers every Thursday even though they make my nose itch and makes me sneeze because I thought they'd brighten up your bedroom? You have plants covering every window sill! You think I'd attempt to cook a dish that I can barely understand let alone cook and make a complete mess of it for just anyone?! Wanda you are always in my thoughts every day, the past two weeks have been torturing for me wondering when you'd be home. I missed you all the damn time! I missed our nights in where it was just the two of us watching crap reality television because even though we make fun of it we both secretly love the drama" She stares at me in shock, her lip twitching into a smile ever so slightly at the last part of my confession.

Her silence clearly an invitation for me to continue:

"But you really want to know what I missed about those nights while you've been gone. I missed watching your beautiful face scrunch up slightly as you slowly doze off with your head falling onto my shoulder. I would stay sitting in that upright position for hours if it meant keeping you like that, close to me. Wanda there could never be a me and Nat... you wanna know why? It's you, you idiot. I'm in love with you!"

Her emerald green eyes drop to the floor, suddenly finding it very interesting before a wide smile settles on her red lips and her eyes slowly make their way to meeting mine.

“You love me?”

“Yes I love you, you idiot” I whisper, shuffling slightly feeling uncomfortable and exposed with my feelings.

Before I can turn and hide away from my embarrassing confession, I feel warm, soft lips press hard against my own, the taste of vanilla chapstick lingers on my lips as I brush my tongue gently against her bottom lip making her gasp, granting me access. Our tongues clash, both fighting for dominance before pulling away slightly, my teeth catching her bottom lip gently and tugging at the soft skin softly before letting go with a small pop.

"If I'm an idiot, I'll be an idiot who’s in love with you too" she whispers breathlessly into the open air between us, her forehead resting gently against my own.

I smile.

#wanda maximoff x female!reader #my prompts #prompt request #wanda maxim #wanda #fluff #i hope it's good

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omni-scient-pan-da · 3 years

Text

And They Were Oar-Mates

The Second Part of My Fic About The Oars by omni-scient-pan-da

For @burntuakrisp @wh33z @reaping-mae @jo-the-nerd @emo-bi-mess @taurianskies7 @the-dumbass-multishipper @pictures-that-are-kinda-cool and that one anon that left an ask that made me actually finish writing this thing (Edit: Find All Parts HERE)

It wasn’t often that Rowan got upset. For the most part, he was an angel, everyone he met loved him. Even when dealing with the nastiest of people, he met them with a smile and a bounce of his step, never letting anyone or anything get to him.

But of course, most people he interacted with had never hurt Killian.

After a raid on their villiage, Killian had made a deal with an evil warlock in order to save both his and Rowan’s life. The warlock helped the two of them escape and live to see another day, and in return, one day the warlock would call on Killian to be his faithful servant for the rest of time.

Over a decade passsed, and the two all but forgot about the deal Killian had made with the warlock. Until one day, the warlock came calling, and Killian disappeared. And now, Rowan was out to find the warlock and get his beloved husband back.

Rowan knew the task wouldn't be easy. First of all, he had no clue where Killian had gone, or where to find him, or how he was going to get him back from the warlock, or even if Killian wanted to be found in the first place.

Rowan shook his head. No, that was just the spell that made him want to leave... Killian would never just abandon me like that, not if he could help it... I just have to find a way to break the spell and then everything can go back to normal Rowan thought to himself.

He'd packed up as much supplies as he could carry, ready to journey for however long it took in order to find his husband.

Sorcery or not, nothing was going to stand in his way. Either he'd return home with Killian or he wouldn't come back home at all.

Rowan teared up as he looked around their home. It didn't really even feel like a home without Killian there with him. After all they'd been through together, Rowan refused to let some evil warlock stand in the way of his marriage.

With a shaky breath in, and one last look around the quiet empty house that had fallen silent since Killian's sudden disappearance, Rowan stepped out of the house, shutting the door behind him as he set out to find his lost husband.

First things first, he had to figure out where the warlock was hiding.

This shouldn't be too hard Rowan thought to himself. How many green flamed evil warlocks could there possibly be?

Apparently the answer was a lot.

Rowan started off by asking around town, trying to figure out if people had heard of the warlock that had taken his husband before. He couldn't remember much about the man, other than the fact that he had given his younger self a case of the heebie jeebies and had green fire-like magic.

One would've thought that with witches and wizards and warlocks having the ability to do literal magic, they would've picked a wider range of colors for their magic to appear in. But not only was green the most popular color, it also was the only lead Rowan had in regards to finding his husband. The warlock hadn’t exactly left a name after saving them from the raid on their village and leaving putting a curse on his husband.

A pang of remorse shot through Rowan’s heart. He should’ve done something more to save him. He should’ve worked harder, done something to get Ian to stay, held onto him and never let go, found some way to undo the curse, something. Anything would’ve been better than letting him disappear.

But Rowan couldn’t focus on that now. Right now all he could do was focus on moving forward. The past was in the past and no matter how much it hurt, there was nothing he could do to undo it. The most important thing was that he tried to fix his mistakes from the past and pray that Killian would forgive him when he finally found him again.

After spending nearly an entire day walking around asking about warlocks with green magic, Rowan set out to the next town to try and find out if anyone there knew the answer. It was longer than he thought it would’ve been, he hadn’t realized how little he and Killian had actually travelled after getting married. They had liked the idea of settling down, maybe adopting a little girl in a year or so if they could...

Rowan sighed softly to himself. “I’ll get you back Ian... I don’t care how long it takes me, I’ll find you again.”

As the sun began to set, Rowan walked to the nearest inn to find a place to stay for the night. No matter how much he wanted to keep searching, he would be no good to Killian if he froze to death setting out on the cold roads at night. And he’d be even less help if he tried to push forward sleep deprived and hungry.

After booking a room and setting down his belongings he headed down to the tavern at the base floor of the inn. He didn’t want anything to drink, neither him or Killian cared for it, but right now, Rowan just needed to be around people. The thought of being alone with his thoughts at the moment... It was just too much for him to handle.

He sat in one of the booths in the back, just watching the people go by and twisting the wedding ring on his finger. Somehow he had to find someone that knew the warlock. And then he’d be able to get his husband back.

Meanwhile, across the land, the matching ring was being twisted around another’s finger.

“It can’t stay on forever boy,” The warlock scowled as he glared at his mortal bodyguard. “The metal will interfere with the magic.”

“I still don’t see why it’s necessary for me to learn magic in the first place,” Killian shot back, continuing to twist the ring around his finger. “Wouldn’t that just make it easier for me to escape from here?”

The warlock laughed. “Like I would teach you anything useful enough to help you escape.”

Killian glared at the ground, twisting the ring around his finger a little faster, as if to remind himself that it was still actually there.

“Besides, you entered a magical contract when you shook my hand all those years ago child. And no matter how powerful you may get, there’s no way to break a magical contract. You swore to be my faithful bodyguard for the rest of your mortal life in exchange for helping you and your little boyfriend-”

“Husband,” Killian intergected, though the warlock just continued on like he hadn’t said anything at all.

“-out of that burning village.”

“That you were attacking.”

“I never said magical contracts were always fair, or that the circumstances under which they were formed was always perfect, just that there’s no way to break them,” The warlock smirked, and it took nearly all of Killian’s willpower not to step forward and punch him square across the jaw.

Not that it would actually do any damage to the warlock himself of course. There were safe guards against that. Any physical harm Killian tried to enact on the warlock would end up rebounding back on him, whether he tried to physically attack him or poison his food. Killian had had to learn that one the hard way.

“What does any of this have to do with me needing to learn magic?” Killian asked.

“You can’t be my bodyguard and not know how to protect me against magical attacks as well as physical ones. Otherwise you’d just be a little human flesh shield and you’d be dead after a few hits, and that’s really not fun for anyone involved.”

Killian glanced down at the ring on his finger once again. He had no idea where he was, or where Rowan was, if there was any hope of seeing him again, or even if Rowan would want to see him after all this. It was possible that Rowan would want nothing to do with him after all was said and done. After all, he was the one that had left him. Killian couldn’t blame him if Rowan had wanted to move on. To find a less cursed husband. He had said from the beginning that accepting the warlock’s deal was a bad idea and yet he had taken him up on it anyways.

The warlock scowled, impatient. “Look boy, either you can take the ring off now, or I can take it off for you, and since you can still learn counterspells with nine fingers, I’d suggest you take it off of your own violition that way you can keep all your fingers and that stupid metal band.”

Killian hesitated for a moment before slipping the ring off his finger and slipping it into his pocket. He felt as if he was betraying Rowan somehow, dishonoring his husband by taking off his wedding ring, especially under the circumstances. But he didn’t have much of a choice. It was either take the ring off or let the warlock take it from him forever, and at least this way he’d still be able to hang onto it.

“Alright fine then, teach me your countercurses or whatever, I’ll bite,” Killian said, his voice unwavering despite the way he felt inside.

The warlock smiled. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?” his hands lit up, green glowing orbs floating in each one. “Now it’s time for the real work to begin.”

Author's Note: Haha, okay, so funny story, I was writing this because of this one anon and as I got to this point I realized it was a pretty good stopping point and since people are actually still interested in this I figured I'd finish the story and then lo and behold I realized that I should probably break the story up a little more, so there WILL BE a part three which I will link HERE when I find it and potentially a part four depending on how part three goes. I promise it will eventually have a happy ending and I'll tag the same people I did for this part in part 3 as well as anyone that reblogs or comments on either part one or part 2 (unless you don't want me to, then I totally get it, just lmk I won't be offended) Anyways, thanks for reading this far and hopefully part 3 will come out soon!

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stellarrmoon · 4 years

Text

Black Sand and Copy Cat

Pairing: kakashi x reader

Genre: smut; 1/???

Warnings: get some water.

Status: unedited

Background: you're a sand shinobi sent to the leaf village in order to learn some new skills. Except, you dont look like everyone else; and that catches the attention of the Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake.

I settled into my room nicely, being escorted by a Jonin ninja to my quarters and left to my own space. It was only 4 in the afternoon and I was feeling ready for dinner. I didn't know how I could go into the village without raising as much curiosity as much as I did in front of Lady Tsunade.

I was clearly different from the people here and some wouldn't take kindly to me purely because I was clearly foreign. But I had a solution to limit the uproar. I had only come with a backpack filled with one day's change of clothes, weapons and bandages to wrap around my face.

Lady Tsunade assured me that I wouldn't have to worry about anything during my stay and I trusted her word, seeing as how she and her ninja accepted me quite quickly. I heard a knock on my door and opened it to reveal the Jonin who brought me to my room.

"A few of us would like to invite you to dinner tonight. Since you don't know anyone, we thought it was the best way to get you to meet a few people in the village so that you're not completely lonely."

I could tell that he was still curious about my origins by the way he looked at my hair but I didn't think much of it. "Thank you, I'll be there."

"That's great!" He beamed, "I'll send one of my friends to come escort you."

I spent about an hour in my room carving the few weapons I had brought with me. About 3 knives had already been sharpened and there were only 2 left, counting the one in my hand. I was in my own peace until I was interrupted by a knock.

That must be my escort.

I shouted that "I'm coming!", and wrapped bandages around my neck and the lower half of my face so only my eyes and forehead were shown. When I opened the door, I was met with the same white haired man who startled me earlier. "Oh, it's you."

He was reading a book as he leaned against the wall across my door, not caring that I wasn't pleased to see him. "Yes, it is me. I take it you're ready to go, Ms Amabel."

I narrowed my eyes, "How do you know my full name?"

"I asked around." He said as he flipped a page in his book, "Let's go, or else they'll finish all the meat."

I closed my door and followed the man - "Kakashi" - outside of the building and onto the street. This time, he didn't bother making conversation

"So what is the reason that you are so closed off that you can't even entertain a tiny conversation with me?"

Or so I thought.

You resisted the urge to scoff, his attitude was too nonchalant for your liking. He asked like it wasn't weird for him to be so curious about a visiting resident. "Come on, Ms Amabel, don't leave my poor soul hanging."

"I can hear your smirk inside your stupid mask."

"Ooh, a fiesty one, aren't you?"

"Are we there yet?!"

He closed his book and put it into one of his vest pockets, "Patience, bunny."

"Excuse me?!"

"Kakashi!" A loud voice called before I could continue, and it was coming from the entrance of the shop we were standing in front of. The voice belonged to a man donned in a green jumpsuit and vest with a shining bowl cut and bushy brows. "You're late to the dinner which makes me the winner of the race!" He exclaimed quite excitedly.

I heard Kakashi sigh beside me, causing my lip to quirk as I thought of him being irritated by something as pretentious as this guy in front of us. Suddenly, the intense man turned to you and came incredibly close to inspect me. I was weirded out already as he invaded my personal space but when he wiped his thumb on my forehead, I screamed. He responded by screaming as well and jumped back.

"Kakashi! What is this?"

He asked as if I wasn't clearly a person. Kakashi cleared his throat, "She's the representative of the Sand village we were told about last week, Guy."

"B-b-b-but... she's..."

"I'm what?" I asked softly, looking the now fearful man in the eye, daring him to say what was in his mind.

Aside from that startling question, I had a fairly good dinner. The jonin I met were all kind, even the super weird guy with his big brows. It gave me a slight sense of home and how all my comrades would find ways to make our table the loudest whenever we ate out.

Kakashi took me back to my place and by the end of the night, my thoughts about him had changed. At first, I was just skeptical about the sneaky guy and a tad irritated by his joking demeanor, but something about him seemed so genuine that I decided to give the guy a chance. I couldn't say he was attractive, purely because I couldn't see his face at all but something about his aura intrigued me about him. Why was he a mystery?

Scolding myself for thinking about him, I shook my head and gathered my things to get ready for the day. Since it was winter, the mornings were still dark but I estimated it was around 5 o'clock. I mentally thanked myself that I had braided my hair last night because who knew what state it would be in after my sleep.

I wrapped a towel around my body and grabbed my toiletries to go to the communal bathrooms. Of course, I had to use shoes inside because I didn't know what could infect me. Unfortunately, I didn't know which way to go and I stood, confused, at the at the top of a staircase at the end of the corridor.

"Wanna know where the bathroom is?"

"Shit!" I jumped at the voice right beside my ear, turning around to face a muscular, bare chest that belonged to none other than Kakashi. I looked up to his masked face and scowled. "Stop sneaking up on me."

"Where's the fun in that, Bunny?"

"Bunny? Why do you call me Bunny?"

He chuckled as if it was obvious. I couldn't stop myself from looking at his exposed torso and internally gasping at how well-built he was. "I call you that because you're so jumpy..." he leaned down beside my ear again. This time, I sensed him take off his mask so his lips brushed against my ear as he said, "...Bunny."

I couldn't move, even when he pulled away and walked past me.

"Bunny?" I quickly turned. "Aren't you coming to wash up?"

I almost cursed at his tilted head, "Fine."

As hard as I sounded on the outside, I was actually losing my mind at what just happened. He was so close to me and with only a towel around his waist. I couldn't deny that his body was amazing, and it had been a while since I last felt the touch of a man. Who knew what this guy could do with his hands, and a small part of me wanted to find out.

Two flights of stairs later and "We're here. The bathrooms aren't separated into male and female so everyone can see everyone. But lucky for you, it's just the two of us up this early."

Lucky? What's lucky about being naked around a guy I met a day ago?

It's a hot guy you met a day ago, my subconscious said.

Kakashi entered the bathroom swiftly, choosing a showerhead right in the middle and getting to his business. I took the showerhead opposite his because it was the best way to hide my body from him; if I chose one to the sides, he could easily have peeped over. I set the water to piping hot, turning around to let it hit my back just the right way and solicit a dragged out moan from me.

"That's an interesting sound."

I opened my eyes to see Kakashi facing me and his hair was drenched, falling over the one side of his face that wasn't exposed. "Eek! You pervert!"

I hurriedly overed my body with my arms and hands, turning back around and trying not to freak out. "I'm not the one who chose the shower closest to me."

It wasn't long until I felt his presence right behind me and something poking my lower back. Holy shit. "Nice ass, Bunny."

Without another word, I heard Kakashi leave the bathroom and I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. "What the hell just happened, Ama?"

It had been a weak since I had arrived at the Leaf village and I was still thinking about that moment I had with Kakashi in the bathroom. 1st of all, I didn't even know he was living in the same lodge as me, and 2nd, the man pretended as if nothing happened. He wasn't escorting me to places anymore due to how he had his own group of young ninjas to train and look after, which made me sad a little but I figured that the less we spent time together, the better.

I attended training every single day, spending a total of 12 hours learning techniques and the basics. I had a kind mentor named Anko and she was patient with me. She praised the fact that my body was in good enough shape to handle the training and questioned me about why my chakra was so strong for someone who wasn't a shinobi at my age of 19. I didn't know anything except for the fact that the woman who found me as a baby, was a witch who gave me power to survive in Japan.

She looked after me while she stayed in the Sand Village and it was only recently that she left on her "next quest", she put it. I was sad that the woman who moulded me into who I am today had to leave but I understood her reasons.

It was only midday and Anko had taken me to the forest to do target practice with my knives and shuriken. We had been going at it for a while until a ninja disturbed us, whispering to Anko about something I was obviously not supposed to hear. "Ama. I have to leave."

"What? But I haven't finished my training for today."

She sighed and started walking backwards as the other ninja ran, "I know, I'm sorry. But they've sent someone here to help you for the rest of the day!" Her voice drifted as she got farther away.

I huffed and rolled my eyes, a bit bummed that she wouldn't be here later to spar with me.

"Aww, don't pout, Bunny."

I looked up to see Kakashi hanging from a tree. "What the hell is up with you and sneaking up on me? Do you enjoy seeing me lose my breath?"

"Of course I do!" He jumped down to stand right in front of me, "I wanna try another way of making you do that, though."

My jaw dropped as soon as he said the suggestive words, "How can you be so relaxed about saying words like that?"

"I have nothing to lose, Bunny." He started going to different trees and marking them with Xes as he spoke to me.

"What about your job?"

"Why would I lose my job for giving you an extra warm welcome?" He looked at me. "It's not like you don't enjoy it."

"...Liar." I hesitated.

"Is that why your nipples were so hard in the bathroom last week?"

He had me speechless, I didn't know what to do in front of this guy. He was too good at being himself.

"Anyways, let's carry on with your training, yeah?"

"You're Anko's substitute?" I resisted the urge to laugh but I ended up letting out a chuckle at the thought of this guy teaching me. "You have to be kidding me. You can't be as good as Anko."

"No, Bunny, I'm better. Have you not heard of my reputation?" With each word he spoke, he took a step closer to me, "I'm one of the Leaf Villages best ninja. See this eye right here," He lifted his headband to reveal his left eye which was a bloody red colour and decorated by a long scar running vertically down the skin over underneath, "this eye lets me figure out my prey's moves before they can even make them. They call me the copy-ninja because I always catch my prey, and Bunny..."

He did something I wasn't expecting and placed his cold hand on my exposed midriff. "Kakashi."

"You are my most enticing prey."

I only saw pale skin for a second when Kakashi pulled his mask down, before he crashed his lips into mine and started kissing me like he was starved. My body reacted on its own as I melted into his body and let his arms support me while I let him suck on my tongue. This kiss was unlike any I had ever had; it was full of hunger and want and passion, most of it coming from him but it was a moment where I couldn't deny my strong attraction to him.

One of his hands travelled to my thigh, which he hiked up and wrapped my leg around his waist. The other quickly followed and he leaned me against a nearby tree to make things easier. Soon, his lips moved from my lips to my jaw to my neck and it wasn't until they reached the top of my cleavage that I had to stop him.

"Kakashi, wait."

He stopped. He leaned his forehead on my chest and I could feel his grip on my thighs loosening. In the next minute, Kakashi had put his mask back on and let me stand on me feet, leaving space between us for me to talk.

"I don't want to do this here."

"I can see that. Let's get to your training, shall we?"

I couldn't sleep. No matter how hard I tried. For the past 3 days, I couldn't get the image of that kiss I had with Kakashi in the forest and I was yearning for more. Fed up, with the cycle, I grabbed the nightgown I had bought a few days ago and wore it before stepping out. I knew there was a rooftop so I headed up the stairs and stepped onto the gravel before I noticed, at the rail, none other than...

"Kakashi." I breathed out.

His figure turned and as he did so, the moonlight shone on his body, making the muscles look better than ever. "Ms Amabel."

I chuckled as I walked towards him, "What, no 'Bunny' today?"

He smiled and that's when I noticed that he had his mask off. I couldn't see much because of the dark but I could tell that he was beautiful. He had a long, pointed nose that was slightly upturned and his lips were soft but plump, exactly as how I felt them against mine. He had a mole next to his bottom lip that made him look even more charming. This man was a dream. "You like it when I call you Bunny?"

Suddenly, I got shy and looked down, playing with my thumbs. "Well... yeah."

He grabbed a hold of my waist and pulled me flush against his body. Even though he was wearing long pants, I could feel his hard-on against me. "If I call you Bunny, what do you call me?"

This man seemed hellbent on fucking me. The way he spoke and the way he held me - the way he looked at me. It's like I was... his prey.

"Well?"

I looked into his differently coloured eyes and found myself getting lost in them. "Kakashi..."

He laughed boisterously, "Really? You're gonna stick with Kakashi?"

"No... I was thinking maybe, Daddy?"

He let out a groan and his grip was tighter on me, "Don't joke with me, Bunny."

"I'm not." Now I looked at him more intently. I needed us to get into a room now. "Let's go." I whispered into his chest.

Before I could say another word, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

"Kakashi!" I giggled while he snickered. He basically jumped down the stairs until we reached his room and he slammed the door shut with his foot.

I was thrown onto the bed, resting back on my forearms to admire his physique. Moonlight peaked though the window and highlighted his body. "You're staring quite a lot, aren't you?"

"Got a problem with it?"

"Not if you'll let me return the favor." He grabbed a chair and made himself comfortable, manspreading right in from me.

Usually, I was a person who liked to keep to myself but when it came to pleasing a partner - especially one who made me as aroused as Kakashi - I had no boundaries. I figured I'd tease him a little bit before I got to showing him what he wanted to see.

"Come on, Bunny, don't make me beg." His voice was soothing as he watched me let down the straps of my nightgown one by one. He followed my hands as they played with the hem and started lifting it up. The closer I got to exposing myself, the more Kakashi leaned forward, but I pulled it back down at the last moment, giggling at Kakashi's shocked face.

I knew it! "You're a perv, Mr Hatake. But that kinda makes me excited."

Finally, I pulled the dress over my head and threw it on the floor. I felt my boobs bounce as I let Kakashi drink in the sight of me. "It's gonna be hard for me to keep my hands to myself if I watch you."

"Then touch me, Daddy."

Kakashi swiftly glided to kiss me, holding my hands to the bed by my wrists as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. I was already a bit wet from feeling his dick earlier but he was making me wetter. He wasted no time getting to kiss every inch of my body, from my neck to my boobs, my tummy and legs. He paid special attention to my boobs and thighs, saying they were "fucking amazing" which only led me to yearn for him more.

The way his hands were all over my skin made me burn up and his voice as he praised my body made me all the needier. "Kakashi..."

"Yes, baby..."

His hand travelled to my mound which caused me to gasp as he cupped it.

"I'm gonna make this mine, Bunny."

A slim finger slid up my slit, collecting the sticky wetness that had already collected there. I watched as he started to play with my pussy. Kneeling in front of my open legs, Kakashi circled and pressed against my clit in such a way that had me squirming. He was taking his time with me but all I wanted was to feel him deep inside my heat.

I was only letting out soft, sweet moans; back arched and head thrown back when he started to tease the area around my opening. "Please..." I sounded like a whore.

He pushed the fingers I fantasized about in the past into me, making me tense in pleasure. In and out, he started to maneuver them, making me writhe from his touch and play with my own boobs.

"Ah... yes, Kakashi, just like that." I mewled as I felt his fingers curling inside me; they kept hitting a spot that made me go crazy, and my sounds seemed to encourage him.

"You look so beautiful right now, Amabel. My hand's covered in your juices and they're glistening in the moonlight right now, baby. That's how wet I made you, you know that?"

Kakashi himself was breathless as he watched my body shine with sweat while I kept myself from screaming at his touch. With the pace getting faster, so did the frequency of my moans. "Ah...ah! Oh my God, Kakashi, please make me cum."

Those words triggered him to grant me my wish as his mouth latched onto my clit and he got to licking and sucking. I felt it coming soon and struggled to keep my hips on the bed, Kakashi's hand on my lower belly the only thing keeping me steady. He moaned, the vibration causing me to still as I felt my stomach twist into the tightest knot.

"Kakashi, I'm cumming!!!"

I cried through my orgasm as I rode his fingers and face. I opened my eyes through it and he was watching my pussy convulse and pulse as kept pumping his fingers. "That's it, Bunny. Cum for me more."

He had a sadistic smile as he watched me lose control, finally deciding it was time for him to feel you around his length. Kakashi pulled out his fingers, before suddenly slamming his hard dick into my tightness. I silently screamed, rolling my eyes to the back of my head as he tried to burrow deeper inside me.

"Fuck, baby, it won't fit."

He took a deep breath before starting to roll his hips. They moved in waves, a continuous rhythm that had his penis entering and pulling out of my pussy in regular intervals, the squishing of my wetness very prominent in every thrust. "Ka-ka-shi..."

I purred into his ear while he buried his head in my neck, biting and kissing at my skin while one hand fondling a breast. "You feel so good, Bunny. Fuck, it's so tight."

"Mmmm Daddy, please go faster." I pulled his hair one last time before he lifted himself off my upper body and started thrusting at a greater speed. The sound of our skin slapping along with our moans and groans and cries made the room as erotic as ever.

"I'm gonna make you cum so hard, Bunny. Just look Daddy in the eye and make sure you let me know just how good I'm making your pussy feel."

Right when he placed my legs over his shoulders, I did what he said and good God, did his Sharingan eye not make me cum. "Daddyyyyyy!!! Ughhhhhhh!!!"

I screamed his name while the eye glowed and tears flowed down my face since he kept going and pounding me relentlessly as I orgasmed. I felt another one coming when he kept hitting my g-spot and tightened around his thick shaft, my walls keeping him locked in his position. I could feel him throb inside me. "You're so amazing, baby. Daddy's not even close to being done with you."

He pulled out, making me see just how big he was. He had to be at least 10 inches, with a good girth as well. I couldn't admire his appendage long enough because he flipped me over with ease and like before, rammed into my already sensitive heat. My juices were already coating my thighs and the area above his dick, I wondered how long he could go.

"Kakashi!" The man held my arms behind my back with one hand and grabbed my throat with the other. As soon as he pulled my body up, he didn't stop fucking up into me. We kissed as I felt another one coming, the lack of control I had over myself turning me on to the maximum. I felt the blood to my head stop circulating and felt my eyes closing.

"You wanna pass out taking my dick, Bunny? Hm, you wanna go to sleep knowing I own your pussy like this?" His voice was gruff, as if a monster had taken over him.

"Yes Daddy, please. Make me yours now. I'll do anything to feel it again, just use my body how you want!"

His grip on my neck tightened and again, I looked at his red eye. As if he saw what was coming next, Kakashi widened his eyes and gave one last thrust into me and we both came. His eye glowed brightly as he coated my walls with his seed and held my body as I shook from my most intense orgasm.

Surprisingly, he still felt hard inside me so he gave one last thrust that triggered something in me causing my body to let go of so much liquid it wet most of the sheets. It went on for a few moments as my strangled moan came out while my pussy spasmed again. "Fuuuuuck Kakashi!"

He kissed me deeply for a few seconds before delicately, guiding my body off his dick. I felt our combined cum spill out of me but I didn't have the energy to worry about it. Instead, I turned to look at Kakashi who had the biggest smile on his face as he looked at me.

"Where are we gonna sleep?" I inquired.

#hatake #kakashi #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #copy ninja #kakashi smut #lemon #naruto #naruto shippuden #shinobi #sand shinobi #leaf village #tsunade

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lupinlongbottom · 4 years

Text

Burning Bridges pt. 7

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: Chaperoning a Hogsmeade trip wasn’t exactly on the top of (Y/N)’s list of things she wanted to do that weekend, but having Neville along for the ride makes it worth it.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: None

A/N: Oh boy oh boy! Hogsmeade fun! The plot? thickens.

Part 1 … Part 2 … Part 3 … Part 4 … Part 5 … Part 6

The winter air had begun to dissipate, the sun shining brightly amongst the melting snow in Hogsmeade village. While it was late into February, many witches and wizards were hoping spring would be around the corner, but a ‘fool’s spring’ would have to suffice for now. They knew full well within the next few weeks, the harsh snow and winds would resume like normal, but it did not matter. Many students were enjoying the extra buttons undone on their jackets, a few foregoing mittens and scarfs.

“Remember, you’re a reflection of our school, please be advised to be on your best behavior,” (Y/N) gave a pointed look to two Ravenclaw boys, both snickering at her words. “Mr. Fairley and Mr. Espen, do I make myself clear?” The two boys stifled their laugh, eyes hardened towards the Professor. They nodded, mumbling something into their scarves. “Alright, then. Enjoy your afternoon.”

The students dissipated, running to and from their favorite shops, many favoring Honeydukes or Zonko’s. (Y/N) took a moment to glance over the straggling students, many of whom stuck to their respective friend groups. It was odd, watching the cliques grow and change over the course of a school year. While many friends stayed true to their group, it was obvious when one student was left out or pushed to the side. She knew better than to meddle, but understood that even Professors know more about the student’s social lives than she could’ve even comprehended when she was at school.

“Do you reckon Espen’ll listen to you?” Neville mumbled, stepping over to (Y/N)’s side, pulling her out of her trance.

“Hardly,” (Y/N) said, readjusting her dark coat. “Those two are menaces when they’re together. Flitwick says that they tear up the common room any chance they get, roughhousing.”

“Last week, those two tried pulling out the growing Mandrakes that my second year class had potted in the middle of their lecture,” Neville said, his face twisting in horror. “They’ve been maturing since the beginning of the year, their screams are getting quite close to being lethal. Had to take fifteen points from each of them.”

“For a pair of Ravenclaw’s, you’d think they knew better, But I suppose they think they’re too smart to get caught,” (Y/N) said, glancing up at Neville. He was wearing a puffy beige coat, fur—probably kneazle—lining the hood. He had chosen to wear his old Gryffindor scarf out, many students noting his old House, almost in disbelief. “Pulled out the scarf, huh?”

“Yeah,” Neville said, pulling at the end, “felt like it was as good of time as any to wear it out,” he nodded at (Y/N)’s scarf. “You didn’t wear yours?”

“No,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head. “I leave the House pride to the students.”

“Oh come off it,” Neville said, pushing her shoulder. “I know you’d love to wear your (Y/H) scarf out! You wore it all the time, matching with your headband. It became your signature look!”

“I thought my ribbons were my ‘signature look’,” (Y/N) smiled, pulling lightly at the dark green bow that settled in her hair.

“You can have more than one,” Neville said, shrugging lightly. “It’s been a while since we’ve chaperoned together,” he said, eyes fixed at the twisting street of the town. “Probably the first time since the beginning of the year?”

“I don’t normally chaperone,” (Y/N) said plainly, meeting Neville’s long strides down the cobblestone. She wasn’t short, by any means, but the Gryffindor was admittedly taller than her, causing a bit of a chase in her pace. “I normally prefer overseeing detentions instead. Maybe it’s because I can come to Hogsmeade at any time, not just when I’m supposed to make sure the students aren’t going berserk.”

“You’re here now, though,” Neville said, glancing down at (Y/N). “Why’s that?”

“Dunno,” (Y/N) shrugged, flicking her eyes up to him. “Maybe because this feels like a date, almost.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Almost,” (Y/N) smiled, pushing her hands into her coat pockets. “But not quite. Cant exactly be all couple-y here, can we?”

It had been a little over a week since the two finally spoke about what they wanted to gain from one another, a longwinded road that ultimately lead them to their current space. No one else was aware of the change, however, as (Y/N) and Neville decided it was best to keep it under wraps, especially in front of students. The only other person to possibly know was Hagrid, who saw the two holding hands near his gardens, admiring the groundkeeper’s handiwork on his pumpkins. Hagrid didn’t mention anything, however, so perhaps he hadn’t really paid much attention.

“Right,” Neville nodded. “Not quite,” The two passed a little green building, sloping at the sides. Dogweed and Deathcap, a sign read in foiled gold lettering. It looked to be a Herbology shop. Neville stopped for a moment, eyes now glued to the display in the window. “Do you mind…?”

“Go for it,” (Y/N) said, patting Neville on the back. “I’ll take a quick lap and make sure no one’s died.”

“Thanks!” Neville said excitedly. He disappeared into the shop, a goofy grin plastered to his face.

True to her word, (Y/N) waltzed around the grounds, keeping a watchful eye out for any horseplay or bad behavior. She found herself seated on a bench near Honeydukes, listening to the giggles and squeals of the students within. It was comforting, almost, remembering what it was like years ago.

“They’re not that bad, Neville!” (Y/N) said, thrusting a little striped box into his chest. “Go on, then. Give it a try!”

“I don’t care for Bertie Botts…” he said, grasping at the carton. “You know I have rotten luck…”

“Nev, everyone has rotten luck with Bertie Botts, it’s half the fun!” She giggled, tugging her pink hat back to covering her ears. “You’ve missed out on loads of Honeydukes sweets last year, it’s ‘bout time you made up for it, yeah?”

“You brought me some sweets,” Neville said, recalling the various packages and gifts the girl had brought him. He wasn’t allowed to go to Hogsmeade after he misplaced the Gryffindor common room password list he had written. “I had some of your peppermint toads!”

“Still,” (Y/N) clicked, rolling her eyes. “Try it out! I didn’t spend six of my Sickles to watch you chicken out!”

“I’m not a chicken!” Neville’s ears went scarlet, fingers diving into the box. He grabbed ahold of two beans, one beige and one orange. “Here,” he threw the beans into his mouth, chewing quickly. His nose scrunched up, eyes snapping shut.

“Bad beans?”

Neville nodded quickly, finally swallowing the mush.

“What were they?”

“I think…” Neville took a moment, sticking his tongue out, letting it breathe. “One was marmalade, but the other…” he shuddered at the thought. “Tasted of vomit…”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) said, holding back a laugh. “At least the marmalade was good?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Neville said, now shoving the box back into (Y/N)’s loose grip. “The vomit took over.”

“Well, when they say every flavor…” (Y/N) laughed, placing the box gently back into her rucksack, right on top of a new travel cauldron she splurged on. “Come on,” she grabbed Neville’s woolen-covered hand, pulling him forward. “Let me treat you to a butterbeer, to make up for the—uh—vomit!”

She had hardly noticed how his ears went pink.

“Butterbeer…” (Y/N) mumbled, glancing down to her snowy boots. “That sounds like an awfully good idea about now…”

Without a second thought, (Y/N)’s boots led her to the Three Broomsticks. The interior was as bustling as she had remembered from her youth, some students here for the first time. She had hardly found the time in her breaks to come down to the pub, visiting only once before the term had started. She placed herself at the counter, awaiting service.

“Well, if it isn’t little (L/N),” Madam Rosmerta gleamed, putting down a freshly polished stein. “Thought you’d be cooped up in those dungeons of yours, no?”

“Hello Rosmerta,” (Y/N) said, removing her heavy coat. She felt like she didn’t need it in this moment. “Caught me at a good time, the headmistress unlocked my cell for the day.”

“Always the jokester,” Madam Rosmerta said, clicking her tongue. “Firewhisky?”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head. “I can’t stand the stuff, besides I’m technically chaperoning…”

“Ah,” Madam Rosmerta nodded, pouring a glass of butterbeer from the large oak barrel. “Butterbeer it is, then. Can’t let the kids have all the fun, right?”

“I suppose not,” (Y/N) said, smiling at the large pint before her. The sickly smell of butterscotch made her heart grow light, like a warm hug. She brought the foam to her lips, instantly feeling relieved at the taste.

“Nothing quite like it,” Madam Rosmerta said, watching (Y/N) take another gulp. “The memories associated with that drink. Probably my favorite thing about it, besides the taste of course!”

(Y/N) merely nodded, too focused on finishing her cup until the last drop passed her lips. She hadn’t intended to finish the entire thing so quickly, but the honey-colored liquid was too inviting to pass up. “Do you mind…?” She raised the glass to Madam Rosmerta’s eye line, watching her smile grow.

“Not at all, sweets,” Madam Rosmerta filled the glass again, the foam almost pouring over the sides. “How’s life been for you, Professor?” Her last word dropped over the tip of her tongue languidly.

“It’s been alright!” (Y/N) said cheerfully, carefully eyeing her glass. She felt the burbling in her stomach, almost afraid to take another sip before it settled. “I love my work, I adore most of my students—”

“That’s the same schtick Longbottom tried to pass off on me last week,” the barmaid scowled, leaning on her elbows. “Wouldn’t tell me the truth, but he seemed rather ruffled as it were, so I didn’t push it.”

“Oh yeah,” (Y/N) nodded, “the wine he bought from you, it was excellent!”

“Yeah? Been sitting on those bottles for a while…” Madam Rosmerta said, idly glancing at the spare bottles under her bar. “I’m glad you—wait,” the barmaid’s eyes went wide, almost to the size of the pints before her. “You!”

“M-me?” (Y/N) stammered, slightly concerned.

“I knew it! I knew Longbottom was planning a date!” Madam Rosmerta said, practically dancing a jig. “He wouldn’t say much, said he needed it for a ‘special dinner’.”

“I—well—”

“No need,” Madam Rosmerta rose a hand, effectively shutting (Y/N) up. “Your pink cheeks give it away, sweets.”

It was true, (Y/N)’s cheeks had grown to a lovely shade of scarlet, much more than a glass of butterbeer could’ve given her.

“Oh, calm down. I revel in young love and romance,” she pointed to a table near the corner of the inn, two Slytherin girls were sipping their glasses and laughing. “Those two have come nearly every weekend. The one on the left always buys for her, I think it’s sweet…”

“Yeah…” (Y/N) nodded, her eyes glued to the foam atop her glass. “Sweet…”

“You were always so sweet on him too, you know,” Madam Rosmerta said thoughtfully. “Every time I saw the two of you together I hoped you’d hit it off,” she looked at (Y/N)’s timid posture. “I’m glad I was right!”

“It’s only been a week,” (Y/N) said, finally bucking the courage to look at the barmaid. “Besides, a lot has happened in the last five years for us to—”

“Wait!” As if by lightning, a thought struck Madam Rosmerta, leading her to fumble through the stack of papers nearest the bar. “You and him went to the Potter’s wedding, right?”

“Oh—erm—yeah, we did…” (Y/N) said, knowing full well what Madam Rosmerta was going to bring up next. “Don’t tell me that you—”

“I knew it!” She slammed the paper atop the bar, directly in (Y/N)’s eye line. “I knew that these were the two of you!” Madam Rosmerta’s manicured nail pointed at the infamous picture of (Y/N) and Neville, holding each other romantically close, almost kissing. “I recognized your dress from the photo before, and then when Neville came in the next day going on about his dinner…”

“Could you keep it down? Just a bit?” (Y/N) said, almost hissing. “No one else at the school knows, well, the students don’t, I should say. Can’t say much for faculty…”

“Ah, making it a bit more fun for yourselves? Keeping it in secret?”

“This is why I don’t come down here often, Rosmerta,” (Y/N) smirked, finally taking a sip of her second glass. “But, no. We just—we’ve been fighting for this for so long that it’s nice to have it be between just us for now, you know?” Another sip. “Besides, the students are terrible gossips…”

“I understand,” Madam Rosmerta said, sighing lightly. “I’m just ecstatic for the two of you, finding each other after all this time… Really gives an old lady some hope, you know!”

“I bet,” (Y/N) giggled, taking another sip of her butterbeer, reveling in the taste.

“Though, I will say, I thought that you and that Knight fellow were courting…” Madam Rosmerta said, trailing. “He frequents a visit every now and then. Talked my ear off about you.”

“Oh…” (Y/N) said, glancing down. “I suppose we were… ‘courting’, in a sense. Nothing official, really,” she shrugged, taking another sip. “If I’m being honest, he’s not really much who I thought he was. Said some… unsavory stuff after I… well, after I tried to break it off.”

“Ah,” Madam Rosmerta clicked. “It’s the ponytail. Nothing good comes from a guy with a hairstyle like that.”

“Rosmerta!” (Y/N) said, spitting out her drink.

“You know it’s true,” Madam Rosmerta said, shrugging. “He’s an odd fellow, but he’s a regular so I put up with it. Always goes blabbering about his Muggle hobbies and the like. Photography, flower pressing, and you, were amongst other things he’d go on about.”

“He was into pressing flowers,” (Y/N) said, nodding. “Made me look at his various journals. It’s an interesting hobby, to say the least.”

“Still, Knight is an odd fellow, would bring his Muggle camera in from time to time. Small enough to fit in your hand, all ‘digital’. Muggles are so fascinating, I’ll admit,” Madam Rosmerta said. “Glad you got out of it when you could. You deserve better.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled. “I think so too.”

“…really, you needed all of these?” (Y/N) laughed, noting Neville’s rather large parcel from his shopping trip. They had returned from Hogsmeade, warming up in (Y/N)’s chambers with a fire and fresh hot tea.

“Well, I needed a few more seeds for my next lecture and they were having a bit of a sale so…” Neville sat, twiddling his thumbs, now realizing the gravity of his haul. “It’s not like I won’t use any of it!”

“I know,” (Y/N) smiled, settling herself on the plush couch, closer to Neville than she’s sat in the past. It was strange, she noted, how comforting being so close to another person could feel. “You’re good about things like that.”

“Oh! Speaking of,” Neville leaned forward, rustling through his paper bag, reaching to nearly the bottom. “You had said a few days ago that you needed some more of this… so…” In his hand were a few sprigs of greenery, looking almost like weeds. “I’ve been trying to grow a small plot of it, but it won’t do you any good until it’s all grown so…”

“Dittany,” (Y/N) said, taking the handful of green into her own fingers, feeling the wax of the leafs. “Yeah, I needed a bit more for my demonstration on the Wigglenweld Potion for my first years—I had completely forgotten to pick some up!” She pressed the green clump to her chest. “Thank you, Neville. I appreciate it.”

“It’s not a p-problem,” Neville said, stammering slightly.

“Well, now I feel bad,” (Y/N) said, settling into her crevice in the couch. “I didn’t buy you anything…”

“You didn’t need to buy me anything,” Neville assured her, “it’s a gift.”

“Wait a second,” (Y/N)’s eyes lit up like a flame, hustling over to her kitchen cupboards. “I know I have some extra… aha!” In her hand was a fresh box of Bertie Botts, unopened and unassuming. “My mum sent me some a while back, but I haven’t opened them yet.”

“Bertie Botts? (Y/N), you know how much I don’t like—”

“Yeah, I know,” (Y/N) hummed, practically skipping back to the couch. “But being out today reminded me of the day that you—”

“Ate the vomit bean? (Y/N)…”

“Oh come on,” (Y/N) said, flopping back on the couch, a little closer to Neville than she had sat before. “I know it isn’t much, but please just,” she placed the box in his lap, “accept the box, for now. Consider it a placement until I can find something more suitable.”

“I told you,” Neville said, shaking his head. “I don’t need anything in return, the dittany was a gift,” He pressed the box back into (Y/N)’s hands, closing them tightly around the striped box.

“Fine,” (Y/N) huffed, removing the Bertie Botts from her grip. “Then… at least…” (Y/N) hesitated for a moment, almost unsure of herself. Leaning forward, she pressed a chaste kiss to Neville’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Neville said, his ears turning pink. “What’re you going to do with the beans, then?”

“Dunno, eat them?” (Y/N) said, tone teasing. “Probably not for a while though, they tend to be more of a party game than anything. Not really planning too many of those of late…”

“I suppose not,” Neville chuckled. He glanced around the apartment, eyes scanning the surroundings. “Hey, where’s Edgar? He’s usually around, no?”

“I sent him out this morning, with a letter to my mum. She spoils him with mice and treats, so I don’t think he’d be on his way until at least tomorrow,” (Y/N) said thoughtfully. “You should see her owls, terribly spoiled, the whole lot of them.”

“I can imagine,” Neville said, imagining a flock of rather round and near flightless owls. “I’m sure he’ll be around sooner than later.”

There was a slight tapping on the glass window, the sound of a small beak perhaps.

“Speak of the devil…” (Y/N) said, smiling towards the sound. She waved her wand, allowing the window to open. An owl flew into the living quarters, visibly tired. The near snow-white of her feathers shone against the firelight of the room, the ends of the feathers shining a bright pearl sheen. She was visibly not Edgar.

“That’s not Edgar,” Neville said, plainly.

“That much should be obvious,” (Y/N) said, cracking a grin. “She’s a barn owl like him, though. Young,” she noted the letter in the owl’s beak, accepting it into her hand. “That explains it.”

“What? Who’s it from?”

“Ginny,” (Y/N) said, glancing at the neat penmanship of the envelope. Rustling in her cabinet, (Y/N) pulled a small box out, prying a small brown tuft from the container. She passed the treat to the owl, patting her head lightly before seeing her off, shutting the window into the night.

“You keep—”

“Mice?” (Y/N) laughed, noting the terror that flicked across Neville’s freckled face. “Yeah. I find it’s in the best interests of the owls who run the post to enjoy a nice treat for flying for so long,” (Y/N) said, placing the box back into the cabinet, filled with various potions ingredients.

“But… still. Dead mice?”

“It’s what they like to eat,” (Y/N) said, shrugging lightly. “I know Ginny said that Harry had bought another owl, I didn’t imagine she’d be so beautiful.”

“She reminded me of Hedwig,” Neville said, “she’d hang out in our dormitory sometimes.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said, thumbing the envelope. “It’s unlike Gin to send an owl this late,” her eyes grazed the wax seal, a scarlet ‘P’ adorned the color.

“Shouldn’t her and Harry be on their honeymoon? It’s been a week since the wedding, you’d think they’d be living it up in the tropics or something.”

“Yeah, you’d think,” (Y/N) said, peeling the wax seal off the envelope, pulling the letter out. Her eyes danced across the lettering, looping with every stroke of the quill. “Harry was called on a last minute Auror mission, so they moved their honeymoon to a later date.”

“That’s unfortunate…”

“I’d say…” (Y/N) said, continuing to read the letter. She let out a small chuckle. “Poor Gin, she has to deal with the whole Daily Prophet fiasco on her own, she said she practically knocked down their office building.”

“Sounds like Ginny,” Neville laughed. “Probably gave them a piece of her mind, plus or minus a few hexes I’m sure.”

“Of course she did,” (Y/N) laughed alongside Neville, glancing back down to the note. “It says that she tried to find who was responsible for sneaking the photos—she joked about the one of us, I suppose I’d have to fill her in at some point, but I bet she already—”

(Y/N) stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes growing wide at the final words on the letter. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like all the air was caught in her throat.

“(Y/N)?” Neville asked, his expression worried. “(Y/N) is everything okay?”

“She found out.”

“Ginny? She found out what?”

“She found out who took the photos, who sold them to the Prophet,” (Y/N) said, pressing the note to Neville’s chest.

He opened the note, the words highlighted by the orange glow of the fire. Every other word felt useless against the bold lettering of a singular name.

Lancelot Knight.

General Tag List: @maralisa124 / @leighxlover / @hey-its-me-rai / @missihart23 / @biatheintrovert / @luna-xxxxx / @chocolaterumble / @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy / @steve-thotgers / @greeneyedthief / @kitkatkl / @thelightsideoflife / @thataudreydork / @badgirlsdeaddreams

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 7 Part 2

Hello all, I’ve returned for another piece of Midnight Striga! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

Scowling to himself, Hunter ducked away from the human. He… wasn’t supposed to be in Bonesburough, not really, but it was one of the few days off he got, so he decided to make the most of it with some research. Events had shifted. What before everyone would’ve laughed off as some kind of joke, or the words of a deluded fool, were proven true when a group of human rogues decided to raze the Covention, using magic!! Hunter wouldn’t deny, he burned to know how they did it, how did they overcome the biological limitation? If ever questioned, he could and would easily decry it as Wild Magic, something to be locked away for the heresy against the Titan it was… but in private, he craved that power for himself. Not for glory, or conquest, no! He wasn’t an idiot.

He wanted to be normal.

“Stupid human, thinking I would buy a cheap excuse like that.” He muttered. It burned, it truly did, that she somehow thought he would fall for a ploy, even if she had no clue who he truly was. ‘The Emperor’s most trusted agent, The Golden Guard himself!’ He puffed out his chest, smirking in pride at what he’d accomplished. And it WAS an accomplishment. Anyone who knew the truth of his situation would no-doubt cry about how he had it all handed to him by his uncle, and if they did he would have no problem laughing at the fools, behind their backs of course, no need to start a fight when he could finish one.

For as long as he’d been in his Uncle’s care, he’d worked and slaved to obtain his position. He’d studied, trained, honing his body and his mind to be the best. If someone crossed him, he found ways of getting even, and without even having to get his own hands dirty half the time. Seriously, he understood the need to maintain the Coven’s image of being the best of the best, but most of them were just stupid!! ‘Even Clawthorne.’ He scornfully smirked to himself. He was ecstatic at seeing the cocky witch being taken down a peg, especially by her own hand. The fact that it showed the Isles what she really was, a worm and a cheat who slinked her way to the top, made it all the sweeter, and not to mention that her actions unleashed the most dangerous Wild Witch in generations into the populace. He knew that’s not how it actually worked, but it was a convenient lie that people would reach of their own free will, and would make an excellent tool for getting her out of the way when she finally outlived her usefulness.

But that’s besides the point. He shook his head lightly, clearing his thoughts as he leaned against a bookshelf. The human was here, in the library, and that was an opportunity he wouldn’t let pass. He wouldn’t stalk her or anything, but he’d be watching, waiting, and listening to see just what exactly she intended for the Isles. The mad laughter of those maniacs who had been brought in echoed in his ears, his eyes hardening into stone at the memory. If she turned out to be a threat, he would destroy her. Even if he never gained the secret to the humans’ ability to wield magic, he would gladly sacrifice it to protect the Isles. He swore it.

“This place is both amazing, and kind of ridiculous.” Luz commented, having put aside any thoughts of that rude guy from before, determined to make this a good day. She ducked under a book flying overhead, glaring at it as it shrieked at her. “I wonder if anyone would be willing to help me navigate this place.” She murmured, rubbing her head at another near miss.

“I believe we can help with that!” A voice that seemed to mix charming and cheese together in a corny mess sounded out behind her. Turning around, Luz raised an eyebrow at what she saw. Two Witches, a male and a female, and by her guess twins, if the incredibly strong resemblance and similarity in age was anything to base her decision off of. The two were standing back to back, the boy shooting a cocky grin that he probably thought made him look “so cool!” beneath his deep green hair and golden eyes, his apparent sister tilting her head in a different direction, gazing off in thought, a mysterious look in her eyes.

Luz turned on her heel, already done with these two. “Yeah, if you’re trying to flirt with me, I prefer homemade food and some shopping,” She said, not watching as the two collapsed in shock. “Also, you guys kind of come across as desperate.” She added, turning her head back to shoot them an eyebrow.

“W-we weren’t flirting with you!” The girl shouted, face flushed, even as her brother sat in a heap, poking at the ground with his finger. She marched over, her flush fading as her look shifted from it’s brief moment of outrage to some measure of control. “We just overheard you saying you’d appreciate someone showing you around, and we happen to know someone. We’d be cool introducing you.” She explained, looking Luz up and down as she did so. She shrugged. “But yeah, we probably would flirt with you normally, but we don’t have time for that today. Ed!” She called, her brother raising his head in response. “Let’s go find Mittens!” Her brother nodded in agreement, still seeming a little dazed from Luz’s snark from before.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Luz rebutted, raising her hand in a halting motion. “Did I say that I agreed? Because I don’t think I did.” She said, crossing her arms.

The girl huffed, hands on her hips. “Do you have a reason to actually refuse?” She challenged.

Luz paused, thinking for a moment, before shrugging. “Fair. Okay, let’s go.” She stopped, causing the girl to groan.

“What now?” She asked.

“I just remembered I never got your name.” Luz sheepishly admitted.

The girl blinked, before chuckling, some of the tension in her face bleeding away. “Yeah, I did too.” She stuck out her hand in a shaking gesture, leaning forward at an angle that honestly looked a little silly. “Emira Blight, at your service.” She smirked.

“And I’m Edric!” Edric called out, popping up behind his sister.

Luz laughed. “Heh! Good to know! Since we’re formally introducing ourselves, not that I don’t believe for a second that you don’t know who I am,” She said, shooting the two a challenging smirk. They had the good sense to accept it with a shrug and a nod without putting on airs. “The name’s Luz. Luz Noceda.” She declared, shaking the slightly older girl’s hand. Her grin turned mischievous. “So, I’m assuming that Mittens is Amity?” She asked gleefully, leaning forward, even as the two siblings did the same.

“You know Luz, I think we are gonna get along just fine.” Emira declared, an equally mischievous smile on her face, mirrored by her brother. With that, the trio rapidly began plotting how to best fluster the composed youngest Blight. Hey, Luz more or less liked her, but she thought a little harmless goofiness would get her to destress some. Not too much though, she liked her head on her shoulders. The trio walked off, heedless of their watcher in the isles.

Boscha breathed out a sigh of relief. “They’re gone.” She muttered. Not only was she here, but so were Amity’s older siblings!? Yeah, she wasn’t gonna stay and get caught in whatever craziness those two decided to get into. With a spine-cracking stretch, Boscha pulled away from the Isles, pulling a book to her chest. She breathed in deep, sighing out, before freezing at the sight of flame licking out of her mouth. Clamping her jaw shut, she rapidly shifted her eyes back and forth, already feeling paranoid at anyone having seen that. She clambered off towards the checkout, the book white-knuckled in her grip.

The book’s title read “Mysteries of the Mind, and Other Dark Truths.” Maybe now Boscha will be able to get some answers.

Luz rounded the corner, arm slung over Emira’s shoulder, chatting away with the other girl. “-And that’s why I never date a girl with fire magic without asking if they are medicated or not first!” She boldly declared, completely unbothered by her own past misadventures. Admittedly, she and Azzie probably would’ve still been together, if she wasn’t head over heels for a childhood friend who ran away with the circus.

Edric sprayed out his drinking, choking on his laughter. “And she let you live!?” He asked incredulously, choking and wheezing all the while.

Luz sheepishly shrugged. “Yeah, maybe trying to tell her that I wanted to break up while she was waiting for her medicine to be refilled, and while she was practicing her spells to boot, wasn’t my smartest move.” She was SOOO lucky she dodged that initial attack, her butt still felt like it was singed at the memory!!

Emira gave her an amused smirk. “Oh, I wonder why?” She playfully ribbed the other girl. Her look of amusement softened. “You know, I was honestly all geared up to tear you apart at first.” She casually admitted, even as Edric stared at her in shock and Luz raised an eyebrow at her admission. “Yeah, after I got a rundown about what you accidentally dragged Mittens into, and trust me, I know you wouldn’t be able to stop her, I was totally prepared to dismember you and bury your corpse so you could never get involved with her again.”

“Eh, not the worst thing anyone’s admitted to wanting to do to me.” Luz said, shrugging the casual death threat off. Edric just wordlessly worked his jaw, somehow at a loss for words.

“But… as much as I want to blame you, I get that it wasn’t your fault, what went down. So I’ll be keeping an eye on you, but I’m not gonna try anything. Especially not now that I know how fun you are!” She finished, giving Luz a chipper wink, getting a friendly smirk in response. As the next area caught her eye, she perked up. “Oh! I think we’re here!”

“Finally!” Edric cheered, having gotten bored of the place a few stacks ago, with only Luz’s stories to keep him going. Who knew you could cause so much chaos with Cheese, a banjo, and a juggler!? He must find a way to top that…!

Peering around the corner, Luz’s eyes widened. “Is that what I think it is?” She asked, her voice tight with awe and fervent hope.

“Yeah.” Emira squeaked, equally overcome.

Edric just raised his eyebrows. “I don’t get the big deal, but you guys do you, I guess.” He said, shrugging.

Before them sat Amity Blight, her normally stern look having fallen away, a look of innocence and kindness gracing her features, as she read from the book in her lap to the children surrounding her, Skara standing to the side with a happy smile of her own.

“‘What do you think you’re doing?’” Amity read along, keeping pace with her place in the book, her eager audience leaning in closer, with Skara sidling up too, a sheepish grin on her face at how captivated she was with the simple reading. “‘We’re your friends and we wanna help!’ said the Tin Boy with a yelp. Otabin smiled and paced the floor. ‘I’ve never had real friends before.’”

Luz suddenly found herself very much identifying with a children’s book character from a story she never read, just from that one line. She turned to the twins with starry eyes. “Amity reads to kids?” She stated more than asked, getting an enthusiastic nod from Emira and a playful smirk from Edric.

She watched in slight awe as Amity continued. “‘Then we’ll be your first.’ The Chicken Witch Clucked. Otabin couldn’t believe his luck.” She turned her gaze to the kids, eyes glowing in delight at this simple kindness she was performing. “So, Bookmaker Otabin, surrounded by friends, bound a book of friendship and that’s the end.” She finished cheerfully, the children cheering and applauding, while Skara threw an arm over her friend’s shoulder, which Amity playfully shoved off.

“Yay!”

“Thank you so much.”

“Goodbye.”

One particular kid walked up to Amity and hugged her legs, before speaking in a strikingly deep voice. “Thank you for the story Miss Amity.”

Amity gave the little demon boy a kind smile, reaching down to return the hug. “Ah, thank you Braxas. Have a good day, and give your dad my wishes while he heals up. See you next week.”

The little demon, Braxas apparently, cheerfully ran off, waving in reply behind him. “Okay!”

Skara gave a soft laugh, clapping her hands. “That was so sweet, Ams!” She cheered. She shot Amity a mock critical look. “And just why haven’t you shown this to me before?” She asked faux-haughtily, even as Amity snorted.

“I think what I do to destress is my own business.” Amity replied dryly, getting a sheepish laugh from Skara in response. Her smirk softened into a smile. “But still, I’m okay with you having shown up. The kids really liked you.” She gave Skara an appraising look. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be cool with something like this.” She softly admitted.

Skara gave Amity a stern look. “Amity, I get that I can be judgy, but I’m not gonna bust your chops for being nice to kids.” She said sharply, before shifting into a teasing smirk. “Still, you know that now you have to do something I like to do without other people, right?”

Amity spluttered. “I don’t remember agreeing to that!” She said hotly, her face flush.

Skara spun on her heel, pulling Amity along with her. “Ah, don’t be such a buzz-kill! It’s nothing illegal, and I promise, you’ll enjoy it.” She said, giving Amity a wink, prompting the other Witch to roll her eyes.

At that point, Luz decided that it was about the right moment to reveal herself. “Well, well, well! It looks like Hexside’s number one lemon drop has a secret sweet center.” She commented, stepping into view.

Behind her, Edric and Emira shared matching looks of glee, mouthing the words ‘lemon drop’ to each other in delight. Oh yeah, they liked Luz, for sure!

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #amity blight #emira blight #edric blight #braxas the owl house #skara the owl house #magic

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atxlxs · 3 years

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Beyond The Veil: Chapter 1

Society as a whole has the same collective belief. If you can’t see, hear or touch it, it doesn’t exist.

Funny how by that logic, Eras shouldn’t be alive.

Not that they were alive, by average standards at least. Even with quirks they're kind of an outlier. Muska had made it a point to joke about that fact ever since they realized it over breakfast a few years ago. Not that either of them ate breakfast. It was more of just a shared space to feel the dread of wakefulness and drink their coffee. Early morning just didn’t agree with the thought of food, or whatever metallic smoothie Eras decided to blend that day.

Now they're getting off topic.

Anyways, society as a whole doesn’t actually know about the world behind the veil. A convenient name for the sheet drawn over the existence of those that were beyond what defines as ‘human’. Muska and Eras were prime examples of people from “beyond the veil”.

Muska was a witch. Not the stereotypical black hat broom witch. That's just offensive. No, she’s the altar having, spell making, wary of the fae witch that knows everything and anything a witch should know. Eras always felt bad but she really just didn’t know a lot of what witches actually do besides the obvious that she sees every day. She does, however, make a point to note any shiny rocks or glass bottles that seem interesting. She may not understand what Muska does but she will make damn sure that she at least helps out when she can. Also, Muska- despite her prowess- was a former regular human. Thus she appeared like one. She has a quirk and everything, but she gave up on being completely human to become something slightly different. Those ‘beyond the veil’ are shaped by what they see afterall.

Eras is an entirely different species.

Black hair that's cut just above the shoulders would reveal pristine snow white hair underneath if jostled or blown by the wind. Arguably, since the dawn of quirks, that was the most normal thing about her. To keep that normality when she needs to visit society, two sets of sharp and longer than normal canines are just a mutation. Cat-like slits in black eyes that will glow a vibrant and toxic green during certain circumstances become a sign of quirk activation despite not having a quirk or quirk factor. Certain special abilities of course get played off the same way. That was how people like them decided to fit in with the normals of society. Life becoming safer under the disguise of being the same.

Muska had asked, after they revealed their actual self during the early years of their friendship, what life was like before the quirk wars. Eras had responded with a simple sentence that they packed all their feelings into and delivered with a deadpan.

“Like getting dropped off in hell to become Satan's personal whore, only to discover that he not only has a foot fetish, but also enjoys weird shit like my little pony.”

Safe to say the cackles that followed, when Eras passed a phone with my little pony on it to Scout after explaining that it was a pre-quirk show for children, were expected.

It was a familiar start to their morning, Eras waking from a ‘sleeping’ state and using the rope to come down to the ground from their ceiling wide hammock and Muska groaned loud enough to be heard through her door as the sun probably hit her face from the window.

Tibbles, Muska’s familiar, was sitting poised on the kitchen table. Right underneath the cabinet that carried the cat food and treats. Reaching up, Eras grabbed down the food and pulled over Tibbles fancy food plate that was bought because “he deserves the best”.

After quickly dishing out the familiars breakfast, Eras was thanked with an allowed head scratch and Tibbles went on to ignore the world in favor of food. Eras would always lament about not being able to hear Tibbles talk like Muska.

Walking over to the stove, gas powered thank you very much (electric stoves are a lie to all that is holy like cooking and making espressos), Eras pulled out the moka pot and coffee beans. Grinding the coffee into a fine espresso powder, she set it up to boil the water and brew the coffee.

Despite receiving no nutritional value from everything not blood related, coffee is one of the few things she continues to enjoy. She likes the taste. Pouring the now brewed coffee over ice in one cup and nothing in the other, Eras set up the two coffees to their designated people's expectations.

Halfway through the process, her keen ears (slightly pointed like a half elfs) picked up the telltale sign of a door being pushed open and the soft footsteps of fuzzy socks on wood making their way to the kitchen.

“Coffee’s almost done, want anything to eat in the next hour or 2?” Eras asked, not looking up from the task at hand.

“Crepe” was the only word from her best friend and roommate.

A snort escaped at her dead to the world tone as Eras finished up the coffees. Placing the iced mocha in front of Muska, Eras went back into the kitchen and started to grab the ingredients out for crepes. How the vampire who doesn’t eat human food became the chef was beyond understanding at this point.

The morning was a quiet affair as usual. Neither feeling the need to speak besides a quick question or too about specifics wanted in the crepe. Placing said food in front of her friend, Eras sat in the chair opposing Muska around the round table that was settled in a place surrounded by windows on two sides, vines and moss growing up the sides of the actual house gave accents to the view as Eras stared out at the forest that surrounded them.

The pine and moss covered forest was a peaceful background as they sat in companionable silence. Both with coffees and one with actual food. A phone rested in Muska’s left hand as she ate, probably scrolling some social platform or website.

Eras sighed in contentment, an unneeded action since she doesn’t need to fucking breathe at all but its the point behind it that matters. This was until her best friend, the light of her undead life, the pizza to her hut, decided to speak and say some cursed shit.

“I want to take the UA exam to join the hero course.”

Eras took another sip of her coffee, avoiding the inevitable for a short moment, before they returned their gaze to their friend. Who was still causally reading their phone. As if they didn’t say something ‘life’ changing.

“Why?” Eras finally asked, and really, just why?

“I want to get control over my quirk since I haven’t really used it despite having it for 2 centuries now and well, Recovery Girl is at UA.”

Well, Eras thought, that makes a little more sense. Sighing again, this time in resignation, Eras nodded.

“Sure, I’ll set up an identity and pay for it. The exam is in around 4 months so you’ll have to work out what kind of abilities you're gonna show off and I’ll update your quirk registry with it.”

“Energy manipulation, just tag me under that hotline.” Muska said, a small smirk appearing on their face as they turned to look up. Eras just sighed heavily once more for the dramatics.

“I won’t be joining with you know.” Eras said, slightly shifting with nervousness that she rarely displayed. She hasn’t been comfortable with the thought of a highschool, any kind of school that was physical, since she had to hide everything that made her, well, her. She despised the thought of schools and she had several degrees. 5 PhD’s and a handful of masters and bachelors. She didn’t need school.

A look of understanding invaded her friend's mischievous gaze as she nodded.

“I didn’t expect you too.”

And that was that.

@baguettehead

#bnha #mha oc #mha fanfiction

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script-nef · 4 years

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Your Kisses Makes It Go NEON | Hinata Shouyou

Inspiration: [NEON — DPR LIVE]

Category: fluff

5.7k words; colours decorate your time with Hinata

Very late birthday present for our ray of sunshine. Sorry ;^;

When Hinata thinks about you, he remembers colours.

He met you only a few months after arriving in Japan. Bokuto was going on about a bar he frequents with Akaashi, exclaiming how “the atmosphere is really relaxing and comfortable! You could spend 2 hours there and it would only feel like a few minutes have passed! Also the bartender there is a really cute girl and she’s super sweet! Her drinks are incredible!"

Hinata was never fond of alcoholic drinks—they tasted weird and had a gross aftertaste—but accepted the offer at the promise of non-alcoholic ones. (He later realises this is one of the best decisions he made in his life.)

Which was why the normally rambunctious group sat quietly—well, not that quiet. That was impossible with the combination of Bokuto and Hinata, but they tried at least—at the counter, as they skimmed through the menu filled with pictures of multi-coloured drinks. Some of the drinks had such bizarre names (Hinata’s face exploded with red when he read "Sex on the Beach” because what kind of a drink is that?) and none of them looked particularly appealing.

A soft tap on the shoulder shook Hinata out of his contemplation, and he was met with the softest eyes when he looked up. You smiled at him.

"Do you need help choosing?“

He couldn’t answer that properly.

The blue top you wore suited you perfectly, a toned-down yet vibrant colour. It contrasted against the deep red of the wallpapers, and the dim lighting made you glow almost ethereal. It somehow felt like you belonged there, like you were the centrepiece.

You snapped him out of his reverie by explaining various drinks to him, what the ingredients were and how strong it was, trying to figure out what type of drink he wanted. Which was nice of you, and he really appreciated it, but he couldn’t understand anything other than the sound of your voice.

He heard pink—soft, warm, soothing and so, so sweet—and it drowned out everything else. His teammates bickering and trying to grab your attention, the mellow classical music in the background, even his own heartbeat. It was all dissipating, leaving just you and him in a bubble of calm.

And he couldn’t help but hope to hear your voice every day.

Hinata started frequenting your bar. ("My cousin’s the actual owner.” You told him on his third visit. “But I helped him decorate, so I feel like it’s mine as well.”) He still doesn’t like alcohol and you laughed when he described the tastes. He then realised that it was rude to complain about it to a bartender and began apologising profusely, but you just waved it off.

"It’s okay, not everyone likes the same things. There’s a wide variety of non-alcoholic drinks for you to enjoy. Like this one.“ You slid a mocktail over, and he beamed before sipping away at the yellow drink. The flavours burst on his tongue, and words could never fully encompass these sensations. A zesty explosion which reminded him of the beach and his experience in Brazil. Hinata sometimes wondered if you were a witch. Surely an ordinary person couldn’t evoke so many memories and emotions from a mere drink.

He couldn’t stop himself as he let out a content sigh, his face morphing into that of utter bliss. Every drink you made was yellow or orange, as vibrant as the sun and somehow tasted like them too. He asked you about it and you just giggled in response.

"It’s because you remind me of the sunshine, Hinata-san. You have an unbelievable amount of energy and unbridled happiness, it’s hard not to think of it when I look at you. Whenever you visit, I feel like I’m getting a vitamin D boost and it gets me through the next few days. And… the fact that your hair is orange really solidifies the image.”

He moved to touch his hair almost self-consciously, but you stopped him in his tracks by blurting out, “It suits you! Your hair, I mean. It helps you stand out in your matches and… you look adorable."

That stopped Hinata in his tracks. You looked away from him, cheeks dusted with red as you cleaned a cup. Hinata’s brain started spinning faster than ever. She just called me cute. No, wait, it was adorable but they’re synonyms. She just said I’m cute. And she watches our matches! Oh God, that means she watched all those times I couldn’t receive the ball properly. The insanely nice and pretty girl has seen some of my worst moments on the court.

"Do you… watch our games, [Surname]-san?” Hinata asked tentatively. Oh God, what if she watched the one where I fell over after I tried to receive it or the match against Inarizaki when I forgot to hit the ball?

"Just some of them. Bokuto-san kept on asking me to watch him play and… I gave in when you came. I kind of got hooked onto it after watching you, Hinata-san.“ With that, you scurried off by using another customer as an excuse, whispering a soft "excuse me”. He watched you walk away, gaining the courage to finally do what he should have done weeks ago.

You came back by the time his drink was finished, a smile replacing the blush and asking if the drink was to his taste. He replied the same way as always, “All your drinks are delicious!”

That never failed to put a smile on your face. A small grin bloomed, and Hinata took this as an opportunity.

"[Surname]-san, I wanted to ask if you were busy this Saturday? I recently found this place called Aobayama Botanical Gardens nearby and you said you like this sort of stuff, so I was wondering if you would like to come.“ Your eyes widened at that. Is he… asking me out? No, wait, don’t get ahead of yourself. Because, surely, this amazingly friendly and loveable national-level athlete would choose to spend his time with someone equally talented and amazing, right? But Hinata’s eyes were full of determination and hope, so much that it pushed you to confront your feelings as well.

"I would be delighted to take you up on that offer.” You quickly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled your number onto it. “Here’s my number. I’m free in the mornings, so… just give me a time, I guess."

As he stumbled out of the bar, Hinata couldn’t stop the excitement and anticipation bubbling throughout his veins, amazed at how easy that was. He let out a whoop that echoed throughout the street and ran home, desperately wishing time would flow faster.

His stomach was warm and fuzzy, and it really did feel like he drank the sun.

The 5th "date” (not officially though, since neither of you ever called it that) to a park had been cut short due to sudden downpour.

"Hinata, it’s okay if you get water on the floor! Get inside and close the door!“ Hinata hurriedly locked the door, glad to be out of the freezing shower and fierce wind. He slowly walked through the apartment, mumbling "excuse me” to no one as you were currently running around, trying to clean up and turn on the heating. A sneeze escaped him.

"Hinata, are you okay?“ You reached for his arm, only to recoil at the contact. "You’re freezing! You’ll get a cold at this rate.” You pulled him towards the bathroom, picking up some towels along the way. He was left standing on a mat in the bathroom while you ran off again. He looked around the room, taking in the details. There were small plants on the windowsill and various cosmetics littering the sink. The room smelled like you. …That was weird. Ugh, I shouldn’t be thinking that!

You came back holding a pile of clothing. “It’s my cousin’s, I don’t know if it’ll fit you though. It’s all been cleaned recently so don’t worry about that. Take a shower and I’ll have something warm ready by the time you’re done.” He opened his mouth to say “thank you”, but all that came out was another sneeze. You let out a soft shriek. “Shower! Now, Hinata! You’re an athlete, you can’t be sick!” You slammed the door on your way out.

—

The clothes fit him fine. When he came out, you were in the kitchen, stirring a cup.

"Ah, Hinata. Here you go, hot chocolate and some snacks. Sorry, but I have to go and shower as well. You can watch TV or read my books.“ You disappeared into your room, his calls of "You should have showered first! Thank you!” echoing in the hallway. He took a sip, enjoying the warmth travelling down his throat.

He scanned the house, immediately noticing the incredible amount of greenery you had on display and tucked in corners. Small slivers of light from the windows reflected off the leaves and basked the room in a soft green tone. There were a few he remembered from your trips to various gardens, (probably because he hung from your words like they were the most interesting information on earth) and some he couldn’t. He knew you would be able to recite the name, scientific name, meaning and other interesting facts as soon as he asked. You had an avid fascination for flora and alcoholic drinks, which was usually an odd combination but it suited you perfectly.

You came out soon, changed into comfortable sleepwear, and saw him stroking a leaf. It felt kind of weird, having your crush in your house. It’s not like it was hard for Hinata to creep his way into your heart, what with his brilliant smile and incessant energy. He was genuinely interested in everything you said even if it was trivial, like what you had for lunch or rowdy customers who are a pain. And you desperately wanted to let him into your life, to confess your affections for him. But what if you gave him your heart and it ends like last time? Hinata won’t do that, but… That’s what I thought before as well… No! Nope, let’s not think about that. You opted to sneak behind the unsuspecting boy, pushing the thoughts into a corner of your mind.

"That’s a Chinese money plant.“ Hinata shrieked at your sudden presence behind him. ”Pilea peperomioides, but I find the name pancake plant cuter. Come here, you need to dry your hair off. Can’t have you getting sick with a match next month.“ You sat on the sofa while he sat on the floor in front of you, giving full access to his damp mop of hair.

You rubbed at it gently with a fresh towel, admiring the orange locks. It became fluffy and bouncy so quickly. You loved it.

“[Surname]-chan?” You hummed. “Can I ask why you have so many plants?” Your hands stopped moving against his hair at that, and Hinata stiffened as well. It was only for a split second though, and you continued your ministrations.

“I like taking care of them, I guess. I used to date this person… and uh, it didn’t end that well. They weren’t that good of a person, let alone a partner. They just kept saying how lucky I was to be with them and that no-one else would love me… How much they hated my voice… But my cousin, the one that owns the bar, he helped me move over here away from them. He also introduced me to plant therapy to help me and well… It got out of hand, I guess.” You let out a soft chuckle, but it was laced with sadness and regret. “I’m sorry, this is a depressing topic, isn’t it? You don’t have to listen to all of my rambling, just forget about this.”

“I love you!” You looked down at him in surprise. Hinata’s face heated up, mouth set into a determined grin in order to not show how much he’s embarrassed by his sudden outburst. He clambered onto the sofa, gripping both of your hand tightly in his. “[Surname]-chan, don’t ever think or listen to anyone like that! I know we met only half a year ago, but you are one of the most kind and understanding and enthusiastic and strong person I have ever seen! These plants symbolise your strength and hope for a better future, so who cares if you have fifty or a hundred? You deserve the world and everything in it, and I…” He paused, squeezing your hands even tighter. “I love you! I’ve liked you since we met for the first time at your bar, my heart just stopped when I first saw you and all I could think when you talked to me was how much I love your voice!”

Hinata’s face was absolutely ablaze now, red covering every inch of his skin, but his steady gaze was filled with nothing but sincerity. “It’s getting repetitive but I really, really love you! And I… I want you to know that I would never treat you like that, and I’ll always tell you how much you brighten up my day by just texting me, or how cute your unending enthusiasm for your plants are. So… if you’re willing to trust me… will you go out with me?” The blushing settled down and Hinata’s lips were trembling slightly, fearing for the worst.

You were quiet, blinking owlishly at him. Seconds, which felt more like hours to Hinata, ticked past and silence continued. Hinata’s burst of confidence started to shrivel at your lack of response. Ah, maybe… maybe I’m too fast. She’s not comfortable and I’m pushing her too far! He retracted his hands from yours, moving away from the sofa.

“[Surname]-chan, I’m sorry, I’ll lea-”

“Wait!” You grabbed onto his hand, pulling him back onto the sofa. He fell with a soft “oof” and you crawled over to him. “Yes.” He stared at you.

“…Yes?” You nodded firmly, lips quirking into a delighted smile.

“Yes.”

Hinata froze for a moment before exploding into a happy squeal, arms wrapping around you and giggling into your neck. You wound your arms around his body as well, nudging your nose into the side of his face. Peals of laughter escaped from your lips. You could feel his heart thudding rapidly against your chest.

He pulled back to cover your cheeks with his hands before squealing delightedly once more and peppered kisses onto your face.

“Ahhh I’m so happy [Name]-chan!! I swear I’ll be the bestest boyfriend you’ve ever had!!”

And you don’t doubt him.

Cheers echoed throughout the stadium as Hinata spiked down the last point needed for the set and the game. His team crowded around him, with the exception of Sakusa, congratulating each other for another win. Hinata escaped from all the head rubs and back pats, eyes shifting to where you sat. You waved upon eye contact, yelling something out which was muted under everyone else’s screams.

His heart swelled, thudding hard against his chest and about to escape through his mouth. He put the sensation on pause, remembering to show his respect to the opposing team and to respond to various reporters. He really tried to give a coherent reply to the interviewer’s questions. He really did. But the amount of energy in him even after playing five full sets was threatening to explode at the thought of you.

The reporter finally thanked him for his time and Hinata wasted no time after bowing and rushed to you. He leapt over the small barricade and engulfed you in his arms, enjoying the feel of your skin and the smell of your perfume. People clamoured around you two, surprised the star player would suddenly barge into the crowd. He heard his teammates whistling cheekily, probably taking pictures to embarrass him later. But you were more important right now.

You ripped yourself away from his grasp, delight and amazement in your eyes. "Shouyou! Oh my god, that was so amazing how you spiked it down and wow, the videos don’t do you any justice at all! My eyes could barely follow you from all your running and jumping!” You babbled on about his performance, thanking him repeatedly for the ticket. He beamed so brilliantly, it was nearly blinding.

“Thanks, [Name]-chan! I’m so glad you came to watch!” And also that I didn’t make any mistakes in front of you. Hinata honestly thought he would shrivel in shame if he made a reckless mistake—such as the one a few months ago, when he stumbled over nothing and didn’t make it in time for the spike. (You commented about it a few days ago. He was mortified that his girlfriend—he still can’t believe you’re his girlfriend—saw such an embarrassing moment.)

You had shined brightly under the stadium lights, contrasting the black top with black slacks you were wearing. “It’s because I’m rooting for your team!” You said that just before the match, grasping his hand in yours. You hadn’t wished him good luck, “because I know you’re going to win this, Shouyou! You don’t need luck!” His heart rate had skyrocketed at your confidence in him, giving him the extra adrenaline to win the game 3:2. Even the commentators had noticed the excess energy he had, but it had been kind of obvious since he was jumping around everywhere without a break and didn’t look tired at all.

Ah, I love her so much. The thought filled Hinata’s head. He heard his teammates calling for him, yelling that he needed to change out of his sweaty uniform, but it felt like his limbs were physically attached to you. He just wanted to stay in this moment, high on adrenaline and your love for him. You gently pried him off, promising to meet him at the entrance of the stadium so you could finish the day with a date.

He nodded gleefully, taking one last look at you before, very reluctantly, detaching himself from you. He noticed the red lipstick you were wearing, the one he bought for you last week because yours had broken the day before. It took him the whole day with Yachi because there were so many shades and tones and something called hues? He didn’t even understand half of them, but he tried his best to find one which was a similar colour to your previous one. The smile on your face when he presented it to you was worth floundering around for the whole day.

You wore it constantly and Hinata was delighted that it suited your taste so well. Just as he was about to walk away, he turned back to quickly press a kiss onto your lips, taking some of the makeup when he pulled away. The whole stadium, spectators and players alike, gawked at his action, many blushing at the PDA and others squealing.

Your face burst into a flaming red as Hinata casually walked away, like he didn’t just kiss you. On camera. Which is live right now. Like literally, right now. In front of thousands of people and probably thousands more on the other sides of countless monitors.

Hundreds of articles and reports were made, headlines congratulating the Black Jackals for another win while displaying his beaming face with smudges of red on his lips. You could be seen in the background, crouching with your face buried in your hands.

(You reprimanded him severely for his actions, but more kisses being poured onto your lips cut it short.)

Shouyou loves your enthusiasm for celebrating special occasions. Christmas, Cherry Blossom Festival, New Year’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Obon. You once took a day off and whisked him off to Sapporo for the Snow Festival. He treasures the memory of your amazed face admiring the snow sculptures. He tried to make one for you but it ended up as a misshapen lump of ice. A photograph you managed to snap before it melted in his palm is pinned onto the large cork board in the living room.

But your favourite celebration by far is Halloween, or “All Hallow’s Eve, the beginning of Allhallowtide and the day to remember the dead! AKA the perfect day to stuff myself with sweets and pumpkin pies with no one to say anything to me!” as you called it. He video-taped the second time you repeated the grand announcement, giggling at your theatrics. Halloween always brought out your inner silliness.

The third Halloween together was no different. He returned home from his training to be met with cobwebs and cutout bats decorating the walls, illuminated by candles lining the shelves and cupboards. Sweet and savoury smells assaulted his nose and you peeked out from the kitchen.

“Shouyou? You’re back earlier than I thought. Come on, and watch the candles, I made a Halloween themed dinner!” The table was packed with different foods, which was… unsettling, at least to others. A bowl of pasta topped off with eyeball meatballs, a blood-red beef stew, chicken soup with pastry hands hanging out… Shouyou remembered his first Halloween with you, when he nearly fainted. But he learnt the charm of Halloween thanks to your overflowing interest in the day and now he loves it as much as you.

“This looks amazing, [Name]-chan!” He noticed your costume—a long, flowing black dress and an equally dark cape hung off your shoulder. The ensemble was topped off with a crooked hat. “A witch! Aw, you’re so pretty.” You pecked him on the lips.

“Correct and thank you. Your costume is in the bedroom, Shou-chan.” He perked up at that, dashing to the room after returning your kiss. He returned soon with his outfit: a white shirt tucked underneath a red corset along with black slacks and a black cape, just like yours.

“[Name]-chan, it’s like a couple’s outfit!” He swished the cape around, flapping it like wings while running around the room. “I could be your bat familiar!”

“Shouyou.” You had a reprimanding scowl on. “You’re making dust fly around. It’s going to go on the food!” He stopped with a “Sorry!” and took his seat on the small dining table, mouth watering at the sight. While other friends might be put off due to the visuals of your creation, nothing mattered to Shouyou other than your efforts and the taste. Which is always phenomenal.

You took a seat opposite of him, laying down mason jars filled with red liquids and eyeballs for the both of you. A chorus of “Itadakimasu!” rang through the house as you both dug into the food.

Shouyou let out an unidentifiable noise of at the perfectly prepared dinner. He shovelled different pieces of food in, uncaring of his table manners. You laughed and reached over to wipe his mouth. Mid-way through the meal, he grumbled in annoyance as the cape collar kept poking him in the cheek and opted to remove it for the time being. Then the corset, even though it was supposed to be loose, as it was pushing down on his stomach.

By the time he tapped out, half the food on the table was finished and moans of “I can’t… eat… anymore…” escaped him and you giggled in response. His dramatics never ceased to amuse you.

“Shou-chan, help me clean the table please. We have to finish one last activity before turning in for the night.” He replied in groans. “Shou-chan! I promise you’re going to love this, but I need you to help me. Come on, just wrap them up and move them to the fridge, please.” He reluctantly lifted his head from the table and followed your orders, carefully sealing the dishes off.

By the time he moved all the food, the table was covered with spare newspapers and a huge pumpkin was laid on top of it. He gasped at the sight, realisation dawning on him. “Are we making a jack-o’-lantern?!” When you nodded in confirmation, a shriek of delight left him. You immediately calmed him down, reminding him that this is an apartment and people can hear him. It did nothing to stop his energy.

“Shou-chan, you do know that this requires knife work and I can’t give it to you if you’re this fidgety, right?” That seemed to work. He immediately stopped his restlessness, giving you puppy eyes as if to say “I won’t misbehave”. You knew it wouldn’t even last for 5 minutes.

The process of pumpkin carving actually turns out to be quite easy and smooth-sailing despite Shouyou’s absolute lack of self-control and abundance of impulsiveness. He would have eaten all of the scooped out pumpkin fillings if you didn’t stop him in time. Instead, it was dropped into your pot for a “special dish”. While it simmered on the stove, you took over to carve the face out of the pumpkin as you won the argument of “who has steadier hands and better carving skills”. Your boyfriend seemed content enough trying to pick the right candle to place inside.

“Ta-da! Done! And done quite well if I say so myself.” Shouyou looked up from his collection of candles and smiled brilliantly at your handiwork. It was a crow, its wings outstretched like it was soaring through the sky. “Do you like it? I remembered you saying your high-school team’s symbol was a crow so… I practised making it perf—”

He pulled your body into his, gripping tightly as if you were going to dissipate away. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. I don’t understand how lucky I am to have you… I love you so much [Name]-chan. So, so much.” He mumbled against your neck. You chuckled softly and ran your fingers through his hair.

“It’s the same for me, Shouyou. I’m fortunate to have you brighten up my life, to have someone like you love me.”

A candle was dropped into the finished pumpkin, the light orange light enveloping the two of you as you cuddled on the sofa. Confessions of love drifted through the air as your lips pressed against his repeatedly, something gentle and warm unfurling between your hearts.

You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Shouyou received three months of paid leave. It was to help him recover from his (“slightly!”) sprained wrist and also for his non-stop involvements in all the matches so far. Fans wanted to plead for him to take a break every now and then, but seeing his joyful face on the court made them swallow down their complaints. So when the notice of his brief leave became official, the comment section was filled with encouragements and “have fun with your girlfriend!”

Which was why he planned three months’ worth of travelling—from Japan to South Korea to Iran to Russia to Poland to Italy to France to the US to Brazil to Argentina and back—with you accompanying him. You gladly accepted his invitation, full of anticipation at exploring through the various countries. You asked about the odd destination choices, which he replied with a mumble of “…they have high-ranking volleyball teams.” His enthusiasm for the sport, even when he was injured, never ceased to amaze you.

“I’m glad you’re making the most of this time, Shou.” Your fingers carded through his hair while rubbing it dry. This became one of his favourite activities with you, other than snuggling and kissing. Or sleeping together. Or getting into tickle fights. Or eating together. (He just loves everything he does with you.)

“Yep! This will be an amazing opportunity to see all the other athletes! I already called them and they all said yes! But… are you fine with it?” He peeked up from his spot underneath you. “I want you to enjoy this trip as well, not just because I’m forcing you to come with me.” You smiled and placed a kiss on his nose.

“Of course I’m fine, Shou. As long as you don’t leave me alone the whole time for volleyball, I guess.” He spluttered an “Of course not! I’ll only watch them for a couple of hours, all the rest of our time can be used for sight-seeing! I bet this trip is going to be life-changing!”

And it was. Shouyou’s mornings were spent in various stadiums, eyes digging into each player’s forms like a hawk. Turning practice match offers down was practically torture for him, but he couldn’t play against them to due to his injury. When his thoughts of “I can play just this once!” surfaced, his promise with you of “no playing until your finger is fully healed” interrupted him. And he would sooner die than ever break a promise with you.

He would then return to the hotel around lunch to cuddle and share a meal with you. You would be stuck in the bed due to jet lag—how Shouyou managed to be so unaffected when you were half-dead is a mystery—but a few kisses and you would be as wide awake.

The afternoon was used to explore the city, ranging from famous land-marks to small eateries which was recommended to him via comments. (His fans around the world were so helpful.) He held your hand as you weaved through the streets and squeezed through large crowds, gripping firmly as if to say “I’m never letting you go.” Small souvenirs were bought by sets and hundreds of photos were taken to be weeded through and uploaded onto social media. Each city in each country was scouted the same way, and it was honestly paradise on Earth.

“Shou, there’s somewhere I want to go.” You whispered to him on the last night of your stay in Brazil. He moved so that he would be laying at eye-level to you, his body pressing onto yours. “It might mess up the schedule a bit, but there’s somewhere I really, really want to go. It’ll only take a day out of our stay in Argentina.” Your eyes sparkled despite the darkness of the night. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

—

The tour bus was comfier than you expected, gliding across the paved road in the middle of nowhere. Shouyou slept soundly next to you, face half-covered with thick blankets and fluffy pillows. You pulled a hand out from your cocoon of warmth, gently tracing his facial features. His serene face was rare, even when he was sleeping as it normally contorted to match whatever dreams he was having.

A wave of affection washed over you, threatening to drown your senses. Ah, how did I get so lucky? To be with someone this kind, this understanding and this loving. You placed a small kiss on his lips, jostling him awake as the bus slowed down to a stop. He let out a yawn, noticing the proximity of your face to him and gave you a quick peck.

“[Name]-chan? Why have we stopped?” The driver turned on weak lights, awakening other passengers as well. Shouyou leapt up from his seat, grabbing his jumper and yours at the driver’s words. “We’re here! Come on, we need to go!” Your eyes lit up in delight as you took his hand, bounding out of the bus.

The wide expanse of Uyuni’s salt flat greeted you. The night sky was clear, illuminated by the Milky Way and its countless stars. The usually dry plain was wet thanks to a timely shower a couple of hours ago, reflecting the lights off the crystalline ground like an enormous mirror.

The heavy smell of salt assaulted your nose as you stepped onto the ground, softly cracking as you walked on it. Shouyou was right next to you, eye glimmering at the ineffable sight before him. You ventured to the middle of the plain, leaving the gasps of delight and bewilderment of other travellers.

The violet sky was everywhere, underneath your feet and above you. Shouyou caught up, hugging you from behind and squeezing softly.

“I understand why you wanted to come. This is beyond beautiful.” He whispered into your ear, eyes gazing off into the distance. You nodded softly. It felt right, underneath the spotless sky and in the arms of your lover. This is the moment.

Shouyou ripped his arms off of your body at the sensation on his finger. A gold band sat on his finger, glimmering in the starlight. He gaped at it, eyes wide in astonishment. His mouth repeated to open and close, unable to find the correct words as his mind went blank.

“[Name]-chan?! What’s this?!” He shrieked at you, finally finding his voice. “Wh-what what. What. Am I dreaming? Did you just- is this-” You laughed at his flustered state, falling into his embrace while he didn’t take his eyes off the piece of jewellery.

“Yes, Shouyou. It is.” You held him at arm’s length, a hand cupped on his cheek. “The last 5 years with you were… indescribable. You never stopped showering me with affection, always made me feel loved and accepted me for who I am. I never felt neglected despite your constant absence for volleyball… if anything, you motivated me with your endless enthusiasm for the sport. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if I hadn’t met you, nor one without you.” You smiled softly, wiping the tears trickling down his cheeks. “So, Hinata Shouyou—the love of my life, my heart and soul—will you marry me?”

Dry heaving and shuddering cries left his mouth as he nodded, broken declarations of love and “yes” mumbled against your lips in between hitched gasps for air. You kissed him back, giggling at his unending affection.

“I’ll… I’ll do my best to make you happy for— for the rest of your life.”

“I know you will, my love. I will too.”

Life changing trip indeed.

blue,

pink,

yellow,

green,

red,

orange,

violet,

you.

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