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ginnsbaker · 9 months

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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (16/22)

Chapter summary: You go through a difficult period following your breakup with Yelena, and you and Wanda end up falling down the rabbit hole for the second time around

Chapter word count: 6.4K | Warnings: Angst, Mild smut | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Before you say anything, I have a plan. Enjoy :) P.S. My requests are open

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Seventeen Part One

Sixteen

“And then she kissed you?” Agatha asks. She looks the same way she does when she’s actively participating in gossip, hanging onto every detail of the latest scandal that keeps most people entertained in their insignificant lives.

Wanda solemnly nods, as if validating a piece of tragic news.

“Why aren't you thrilled?” Agatha observes quietly, picking at her tooth with her fingernail. “I mean, doesn't that confirm that she still has feelings for you?”

“You remember what happened last time, right? When she did more than just kiss me?”

Agatha grimaces, “Right, of all places, in our stockroom." Then, her tone morphs into a more probing one, “But, did the kiss feel as if she just wanted to get into your pants?”

Wanda lets out a sigh, her heartbeat quickening as she reminisces about its tenderness. It felt akin to a first kiss—vulnerable, slightly apprehensive, tinged with anxiety, and yet, at the same time familiar—like finding her way back home.

It was perfect in every sense.

But it was tainted by its very nature. It was a betrayal. And if there were truly raw feelings behind it, then it’s worse—it would mean that you have been emotionally unfaithful to Yelena.

Wanda may have ruined yet another relationship.

In the midst of her internal struggle, she finally manages to answer Agatha, “It felt like hope,” giving voice to her undeniable feelings for you. “But she’s with Yelena.”

“I never really had faith in that relationship to begin with,” Agatha retorts dismissively, cleaning her hands with a towel before reaching for one of the cookies on display.

“That's a terrible thing to say,” Wanda chides.

“I’m only being honest,” Agatha says, unapologetic in her bluntness. “You were fucking each other like rabbits and then a few weeks later, she gets a girlfriend. That's a classic rebound scenario. I'm surprised the woman she's with allowed herself to be used like that.”

Wanda finds Agatha’s uninhibited words a little offensive, though she understands that their deepening friendship has allowed for such unfiltered honesty between them. Even though she's jealous of Yelena, Wanda understands that she is good for you. She doesn't like how Agatha talks about Yelena as if she's too naive to try a relationship with you.

Wanda feels she can relate with Yelena. Often, love makes us scared that we might never get a second chance, so we choose to take a leap of faith, despite the warning signs.

“So, what are you planning to do about it?” Agatha asks, taking a bite of her favorite cookie. Wanda makes a mental note to deduct that cookie from the stock count.

Wanda shakes her head, replying, “Nothing,”

Agatha pauses mid-chew, her eyes wide with shock. Wanda can't help but observe the crumbs of food lodged in her teeth. “You're not going to seize this opportunity?” Agatha questions, disbelief coating her voice.

“Y/N needs to sort things out,” Wanda lets out a heavy sigh. “Without my interference.”

“You’re not afraid of missing out on this chance?”

Wanda sidesteps Agatha's question with one of her own. “Why are you suddenly supportive? It wasn’t long ago when you couldn't stand her.”

“I’m supportive of you. I’m rooting for your happiness, dear. But I’ve seen you at your worst, and I think you’re putting on a brave face right now.”

Wanda's eyes dip down. Her friend isn’t entirely wrong.

“What happens if she decides to stay with Yelena?” Agatha probes further.

Wanda's response isn't immediate; she takes a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before replying softly, “Then I hope she’ll be very happy with her.”

Agatha rolls her eyes, because of course, Wanda would say that. Even if you were being served to her on a silver platter, she’d worry for your happiness over her own.

“And where does that leave you?” Agatha asks, folding her arms across her chest.

Wanda lifts her shoulders in a casual shrug, her face unreadable. “Living life as it comes, I guess. Just one day at a time.”

At this, Agatha decides to drop the subject. She has a strong feeling that Wanda’s just waiting for you to come to her, and when you do, she's certain that Wanda won't maintain this pretense of indifference. As for Wanda, she doesn’t want to obsess over what you’re doing or thinking. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake of hoping for an outcome that only you can decide.

Switching topics, Agatha raises an eyebrow and asks, “And the pup? Is he doing okay?”

Wanda smiles faintly, “I brought him home yesterday.”

“Well, that's a relief,” Agatha remarks. “Do you reckon Sparky masterminded all this to get Y/N to your place at an ungodly hour? Can dogs be that crafty?”

Wanda throws her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious right now?”

A wicked giggle slips from Agatha, spreading until Wanda finds herself laughing along. She doesn't notice the arrival of a guest until the distinct sound of the call bell jars her attention.

It’s Valkyrie, casually leaning against the countertop, looking awkward and so unlike her usual self.

Agatha casts a sly glance at Peter, who's been trying to catch her eye ever since Valkyrie stepped into the cafe. When Agatha isn't around, Peter fills her in on the latest happenings, a reliable source of juicy tidbits. Peter quirks his brows and discreetly nods towards Valkyrie, his mouth miming a silent message. Reading his lips, Agatha pieces together that this is the woman who recently found herself entangled in Wanda's intricate web.

Agatha sweeps her eyes over the woman appreciatively. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Wanda rubs her palms together, a habit she’s developed before taking a customer order. “Hi, Val! What is it for today? We have new beans delivered all the way from Niseko–”

“Actually,” Valkyrie softly cuts her off. “I was hoping we could talk?”

Agatha watches their exchange, an eager twinkle in her eyes. With the pace at which interesting events are unraveling, she may as well pop a bag of microwave popcorn to truly savor the unfolding drama.

Wanda nods and moves away from the counter, temporarily handing the reins to Agatha. They pick a spot in the furthest corner from the kitchen, well out of earshot, much to Agatha's disappointment.

“First off, I owe you an apology,” Valkyrie begins. “I’d blame it on the alcohol, but there’s no excuse for me pressuring you too much to take shots. That wasn’t cool at all. You already said no several times and I ignored you.”

Wanda waves her off casually. “Oh, it's alright. I appreciate the apology, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You couldn't have forced me to drink if I really didn't want to, right?”

Valkyrie's frown dips further at Wanda's easy dismissal of the issue. “No, Wanda. If I'd kept on, I might've pushed you into it even if you didn't want to. I'm just glad Y/N stepped in when she did.”

Something flashes in Wanda’s eyes at the mention of your name. Valkyrie catches it but opts to ignore it for the meantime.

“Yeah, I did feel a bit cornered that night,” Wanda concedes, a smile returning to her face. “But it's water under the bridge now. Was there something else you needed to discuss?”

“You sure don't beat around the bush, do you?” Valkyrie attempts to lighten the mood, but her tension is evident in her shaky voice and the way her fingers fiddle with her watch.

Wanda chuckles. “It's a skill I've been honing lately.”

Taking a deep, measured breath, Valkyrie gathers her courage. "Alright, here it is..."

Wanda tilts her head at her curiously, wondering what it’s about.

“I like you,” Valkyrie blurts out. “I don’t normally confess to someone I’m not even dating, but you’re… incredible. That's how I feel about you and I thought you should know."

“Oh! Uh…” Wanda trails off, blushing at Valkyrie’s confession.

Valkyrie nibbles at her lip, observing as Wanda fumbles to put her thoughts into words. She silently hopes she's left Wanda speechless in a good way.

“There’s… someone,” Wanda manages to utter out eventually. “I've been in love with her for the better part of my life.” Or maybe her whole life, if she’s being brutally honest.

Valkyrie nods, her throat tightening to hold back the sting of rejection. “It's her, isn't it?” she ventures, silently alluding to you.

Wanda diverts her gaze and emits a modest laugh. She must have made her feelings too obvious for anyone to see.

“She’s my ex-wife,” is all the explanation Wanda offers.

“Wow,” Valkyrie looks taken aback by the revelation. “That sounds messy.”

“It's beyond messy,” Wanda retorts.

“Go on,” Valkyrie encourages.

Wanda looks at her, thoughtful. “Are you sure you want to delve into my past? It might take some time.”

Valkyrie smiles, already leaning in closer to signify that she’s all ears. “I made time this morning specifically to talk to you. I want to understand, at least, why I'm being rejected.”

Wanda chuckles softly at the gesture. Collecting her thoughts, she starts to narrate a condensed version of the turbulent history she's had, of how she ruined everything that’s good in her life.

When Wanda wraps up her story, Valkyrie simply says, "Wow, that's... pretty fucking messed up."

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Wanda admits, biting her lower lip, anxiety swirling in her gaze. She worries that revealing her darkest past may have cost her a budding friendship. “I think I saw your interest, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions and have the wrong idea. I just wanted us to be friends. I still do, if that's okay with you.”

“Of course, I want to be friends with you, Wanda. More than the fact that you’re hot, we have a lot in common too.”

Wanda's cheeks tinge a soft pink at Valkyrie's flippant comment about her being ‘hot’.

“So, friends then?” Valkyrie extends her hand.

Wanda smiles in relief. “Friends.”

***

A phone call rouses you from sleep. You groggily glance at the clock and realize you've overslept.

“It’s done,” your lawyer's voice cuts through the grogginess as soon as you pick up the call.

Disoriented, you squint against the daylight streaming in through the window. “What are you referring to?” you inquire, your voice hoarse from sleep.

“Vision has settled,” she elaborates, her words crisp and distinct. “And he caught a flight to Tokyo last night.”

“He's gone?”

“From what I've heard, he intended to use the settlement money to finance his studies overseas. He won't be returning in the near future. But even if he does decide to cut his trip short, you're safe. He has no legal means to trouble you anymore,” she assures you.

“You've got snitches now?” you quip, your eyes narrowing in suspicion even as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth.

Her laughter rings out through the phone, followed by a breezy, “You're welcome,” before she ends the call.

It's over. A chapter of your past has finally closed. Vision has physically left the city, and you've literally paid your dues. You hadn't realized you were in a kind of self-imposed cage until now, when a sense of liberation pulses through your veins.

Before you can fully indulge in the relief provided by your lawyer's news, however, a persistent knock at your door breaks your reverie. You can't help but wonder who it could be, and how they bypassed the building's security without a notification from the concierge.

As you pull the door open, you find yourself face to face with the last person you expected to see.

“Nat?”

She appears ready to tear you apart. For a moment, the thought crosses your mind, 'this is it, this is how I go, at the hands of my best friend'. Strangely, you're indifferent to whatever she might inflict on you. Having her here at least affords you an opportunity to have a conversation.

Yet, Natasha doesn't respond. She doesn't even spare you a glance. Instead, she brushes past you and starts gathering random items into a large duffel bag she brought along.

“Nat, can you please just talk to me?”

“What for, Y/N? I have nothing to say to you.”

“Yelena broke up with me,” you say.

Natasha scoffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“Nat, please,” you plead. “You can’t just cut me out forever. I’m your best–”

“Are you?!” The outburst that tears from her is enough to make you recoil. “Are you my friend, Y/N? I woke up to my sister on my doorstep, in shambles. All thanks to my ‘friend’.”

You wrap your arms around yourself as tremors course through your body. Tears start to flow down your cheeks at the mere mention of Yelena.

“You want to talk? Fine, I’ll talk,” Natasha rages on. “I stood by you through thick and thin. I held your hand through all the shit you went through last year. I brought you into my home. I took care of you. I loved you–” Natasha's voice catches on 'loved', and your heart shatters at her use of the past tense.

“–and you just betrayed me, like I meant nothing. You betrayed my sister like she meant nothing. We both cared about you, Y/N.” Her voice dwindles near the end, her next words coming out just above a whisper. “So, no, we’re not friends. Not anymore.”

“Nat, I’m s–”

“You know what? I can’t fucking do this. I’m just gonna send someone to collect Yelena's things. If I don’t, just throw out her stuff like you did with your relationship. Goodbye, Y/N.”

The door slams shut behind her. You find yourself on the floor, curled into a ball, as you grieve the friendship you’ve known all your life.

***

Dark screens and unreturned messages follow.

Yelena has blocked you on every possible platform, cutting off any form of communication. Natasha hasn't, but she leaves all your messages unread, allowing your calls to go unanswered, seemingly enjoying your desperation. Clint ignores your texts, and Kate only responded once, promising to try and speak to Yelena for you. That was a week ago, and there's been no word since. You didn't think you'd be back in the dark place you were in a year ago, and the worst part is, you brought it on yourself this time.

The only news you get about Yelena is from your own mother. A few days after Yelena left your shared apartment, your mother called to ask what had happened. Apparently, Yelena had told her the news herself and asked her to take care of you and make sure you were alright. Throughout the call, you cried silently, feeling the remnants of Yelena's care for you even after you broke her heart.

And your mother, perennially at odds with handling emotions, simply offered her condolences. Although by doing so, she offered more support than she did when you were weathering your divorce from Wanda the year before. With your latest tragedy out of the way, she proceeded to ask if you could make time to visit Montauk over the holidays.

***

Drinking is… a problem. Again.

But you approach it with more caution this time. You don’t drink as much at home so you can avoid not showing up at work the next day. Rather, you sneak in a flask in the office, sipping from it from time to time to keep you the right amount of…adrift. You’re too good with numbers that even with a little haze in your head, the alcohol doesn’t interfere with your work.

It interferes with other thoughts.

***

When Kate finally calls you, you’re in the middle of a disastrous presentation at work. Her words had been brief, only giving you the time (three in the afternoon) and location (The New York Public Library) where she wanted to meet.

It takes some time for you to locate Kate within the vast elegance of the Rose Main Reading Room. She's tucked away in the northeast corner, engrossed in her work, even on a Sunday. A towering pile of books rises to her eye level on her desk.

“I can’t believe I was wrong about you.” Kate says without looking up as you settle on the vacant seat next to her.

“Wrong about me?” you ask, keeping your voice in a hushed tone.

“I had this fleeting thought that you might actually be a good person.” she says.

Swallowing hard, you struggle to find a response, well aware that Kate is just laying out the facts. What kind of person would cheat on their best friend's sister? What kind of person would throw away years of trust and a lifelong friendship?

“She told you?” you finally manage to ask.

“Yelena didn’t say much,” Kate says with a hint of sorrow. “But I've never seen her look so…” she trails off, struggling to find the right words, and eventually concludes, “She doesn't look like the Yelena I know.”

You’re afraid to ask what she means by that. You haven’t looked in the mirror yourself, in fear of seeing the results of your own wreckage.

“She quit today, you know?” Kate reveals, setting down her pen to give you her full attention. You don't see resentment in her eyes, only caution. This is the most compassion you've been shown since your relationship with Yelena fell apart.

The news of Yelena's resignation hits you like a punch to the gut. She had a promising career ahead of her, and she'd found a supportive environment in her workplace. It's hard to believe she'd just abandon that so abruptly. You feel a wave of nausea at the thought.

“I sort of saw it coming,” Kate adds. “Not her resignation–God, I tried my best to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge. I… I saw you running back to Wanda.”

Your eyes narrow curiously as you regard Kate. “How?”

Kate sighs, pushing a pile of papers to the side to give you her full attention. “It's not a secret, you know. You might think you're being discreet, but you’re more transparent than you'd like to believe. You’re a completely different person when she’s around. I saw it during the 6-miler event we all joined by chance.”

There’s no point in denying any of that. The weeks that follow after that, you were crying to your mother regarding your conflicted feelings about Wanda. But if you had been aware of the signs as early as then, would things be different somehow?

“I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Kate,” you say, the words sounding weak and inadequate to your own ears.

“I know,” Kate says quietly, and there's a touch of sympathy in her eyes that makes you feel even worse. “But that doesn't change the fact that it did happen. And people are getting hurt because of it.”

You can sense that Kate is one of those people–by hurting Yelena, the girl she clearly loves.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you whisper. You wish there was another way to convey how sorry you are–a keyword to make it all go away.

“Yeah, me too. Mostly because I have to tell you that we can no longer be friends.” Kate says, looking genuinely upset about her decision, her gaze dropping to her hands as she twirls the pen between her fingers.

“I know,” you nod, appreciating her honesty. “Thank you.”

“Look, I have no idea how deep your thing with Wanda goes. All I know is you can’t keep running away. You can’t keep hiding behind the comfort of other people.”

You bob your head in acknowledgment, even though you're uncertain how to put her words into practice.

"Can you pass on a message to Yelena for me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously.

Kate lets out a sigh, her fingers halting their movement on the pen. “I’ll try. No promises though.”

“Could you tell her that I'm sorry...that I truly loved her?”

A moment of silence follows your request as Kate studies you, her lips pursed. It might seem hypocritical of you to make such a claim, but she refrains from passing judgment. But seeing your bloodshot eyes and your pale chapped lips and the lack of life in you, she thinks there’s probably some truth to it.

***

It takes you an additional week before you summon the courage to visit Wanda's apartment.

Truth be told, you've been hiding away in shame, confining yourself to either your bedroom or your office, instructing your assistant to keep the door closed and not to disturb you, secluding yourself from the outside world. Aside from interactions at your work, you haven’t talked to anyone.

A moment of misjudgment led you to lose everything that you were left with when you lost Wanda. But gradually, even as you were beating yourself up over and over again with the dissolution of your relationship with both Romanovs, Wanda became the only one you can think about. You can't escape her pull, no matter how hard you try.

Eventually, you devolve into nothing more than a compulsion; a compelling need to see Wanda. Which is what brings you here, with your fist poised to knock on the door. But just before your knuckles make contact with the wooden panel, the door swings open, and Wanda's voice unthinkingly spills into the hallway where you stand.

“–let me ask if the neighbor has some sugar–” Wanda halts dead in her tracks as she comes face to face with you.

The timid smile on your face drops as soon as you realize she's not alone. Behind her, comfortably perched on the couch is Valkyrie.

“Seems like you're already entertained. I'll head out,” Valkyrie proposes, getting up on her feet. “I'll pick up my shirt when you come around for the run next week, sound good?”

Wanda nods in a daze to that, her eyes never leaving you.

"No, I should leave," you counter weakly.

“No, Y/N, please stay,” Wanda implores. “See you later, Val. Thanks for the shoes.”

You stiffen and step aside as Valkyrie moves to gather her belongings. When she finally approaches the door, standing next to you, she tilts her head to murmur a parting sentiment intended for your ears only.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I had a spill on my shirt. Don't let her down this time,” she whispers.

Her words stun you into silence long after she's left.

“Y/N? Please, come in,” Wanda invites you, her voice trembling slightly. Nodding silently, you step inside.

You regard each other quietly, simply observing one another for what feels like an eternity. This isn’t how you imagined things would go when you thought about coming here this morning. You wanted to see Wanda because you needed to be with her. But now, all you can think about is Wanda and Valkyrie being all over each other.

“It’s been awhile,” Wanda offers, not really sure how to begin as you stay awkwardly near the door–as if you’re strategically placing yourself there in case you decide you want to run. She studies you, attempting to read your expression, to figure out what this could be about. She’s been thinking about the thumb drive that contained the video of her and Vision. Did you finally see it? Did you decide to pay him off?

Or is this about Yelena? Wanda’s been thinking if you came clean to your girlfriend about the kiss, wondering if you've managed to patch things up, and if Yelena has forgiven you.

If you’ve chosen to be with Yelena after all.

“Yeah, Valkyrie was here pretty early, wasn't she?” you state more than ask, a hint of bitterness edging your words. You glance at your watch, adding, “At 6:30 in the morning, no less.”

Wanda furrows her brows at your tone, as though she's on the receiving end of an unfounded accusation.

“She was on her morning run, dropped by to hand over a pair of shoes from her club's sponsor. Nothing more,” she explains.

You snort, "Sounds awfully convenient."

Rather than entertain your skepticism further, Wanda redirects the conversation elsewhere. What you presume about her and Valkyrie is the last of her worries right now.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” Wanda asks, her voice a little unsure. When your eyes meet hers, Wanda sees the signs of sleepless nights and a certain emptiness that paints a clear picture.

You and Yelena are done.

And it's breaking you. Her heart aches, even knowing that you're now, technically, available. She never wanted this for you. And she can't help but feel that she messed up your happiness once again.

“I just... I needed to see you,” you admit with a half-hearted shrug. “Looks like you didn't waste any time though.”

“Valkyrie and I are just friends,” Wanda insists, the edge of her patience beginning to fray.

“You seriously think I'll believe that?” you shoot back.

Wanda heaves a sigh, exasperation seeping into her tone. “Believe whatever you want, Y/N. Doesn't change the truth.”

“She was wearing your shirt.” you highlight, not quite ready to drop the issue.

“She spilled coffee on herself. I gave her a clean one. That's it.”

“And I'm supposed to accept that at face value?” you challenge, an eyebrow arched skeptically in her direction.

“Yes, you are!” Wanda says firmly. “Because it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you.”

I wouldn't lie to you. Her words reverberate within your skull, playing on repeat like a broken record.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? You're not sure whether you can still believe her.

“Y/N, please,” Wanda's plea rings out, sounding lost and desperate. She isn't even certain what she's asking for. What she does know is that you're teetering on the edge of a breakdown, still reeling from the pain of your breakup.

You don’t look like you’re in the right mindset to talk about what you’re going through. About how you both left things. And as much as Wanda wants to figure this out with you, she can’t do anything if you’re not willing to trust her.

“Wouldn’t lie to me?” you repeat, your voice laced with sarcasm and a painful sort of humor. “Alright, let's put that to the test, shall we?”

Wanda's throat tightens. She's unsure where you're heading with this.

“Yelena and I broke up. She left me that same morning,” you start off casually, as if discussing the weather. “Because she deserved better. Because I am, as it turns out, selfish and deceitful, right?”

“No–”

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Wanda's mouth snaps shut at your words, a sense of finality creeping into her. “...yes,” she admits quietly.

Slowly, you advance towards Wanda, your steps intentional and calculated. She remains rooted in her spot, refusing to back down.

“Do you feel happy that Yelena and I have broken up?” you ask.

Wanda looks hurt by your question. "Y/N, no, of course not–”

Your stoic expression tells her you're not buying it.

“Do you regret our kiss?” you probe, stepping closer, until Wanda finds herself backed against the wall. You lean in, foreheads almost touching, your dark eyes daring her to lie to you.

Wanda takes her time to answer, but when she finally does, her expression is resolute, as though she's trying to prove a point to you. “No, I don’t regret it,” she murmurs, her words a mere breath against your lips. Wanda looks so taken by the hungry look in your eyes that she fails to see what comes next.

The kiss this time is a stark contrast from the last. There’s an edge of danger to it, almost like the kiss that started Wanda’s downfall that culminated in a near-death experience, the kiss that was punishing and every bit of the hatred you harbored for her.

But there's also a desperation to it–as if you're sinking and this kiss is your lifeline; a frayed, ragged lifeline that could only be the one to pull you back to the surface.

As Wanda's head hits the wall with a soft thud, a pang of concern breaks through the haze of your fervor. Swiftly, you slide your hand between her head and the hard concrete, cushioning her as the urgency of your kiss escalates. Wanda almost sobs at the subtle tenderness behind your action, the considerate gesture leaving her somewhat taken aback, considering the harsh exchange you'd had just moments before.

No, this is nothing like your previous encounter.

You're not biting down to break skin. Your fingers aren't pressing into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Your tongue isn't demanding or invasive, it's simply there, matching her rhythm and intensity. Wanda is unable to do anything but moan under you and rub her thighs together to relieve the pressure that’s building there.

Yet, you still don’t let her touch you. You don’t let her fingers venture up your stomach from under your shirt. Instead, you catch her hands, lacing your fingers through hers, and pull her arms above her head. All the while, your lips deftly trace a path down her throat. It’s soft and wet and so utterly delicate–everything Wanda thinks she hasn’t earned.

Nothing prepares her for the moment your hand makes contact with her core, even through the fabric of her shorts. She realizes just how much you’ve been holding back when you cup her forcefully, groaning from the heat and dampness that hits your palm.

If this means what Wanda thinks it means, she doesn’t want it to happen against the wall of her living room.

“Y/N?” she whispers raggedly in your ear, feeling the heel of your hand starting to grind against her clit.

“Yeah…?” you moan against her heated cheek as your fingers slips beneath her panties and find wet, wiry curls.

“Fuck–” Wanda whimpers at the contact. “B-Bedroom, please.”

Following her lead, you hoist Wanda up and her legs instinctively coil around your waist. She directs you towards her bedroom with verbal cues, realizing you're far too engrossed in lavishing attention on the skin just above her breasts to care about bumping into furniture. Your hand drifts up her back, finding the clasp of her bra and skillfully unfastening it.

And then no words are spoken at all after that.

***

Wanda stirs awake near noon, realizing that she's skipped her therapy appointment. Instinctively, her hands reach out to the area beside her, expecting to feel your warmth. However, she is greeted only by the cool sheets of the bed, the space vacant.

You're gone.

While she had been lost in dreams where she had a second chance at the life she yearned to have with you, you had quietly dressed and slipped out of her apartment, leaving no trace or note behind. You had vanished as silently and swiftly as a dream at daybreak.

Wanda arches her back, mimicking the languid stretch of a cat, the resulting pops of her spine easing the tension more than the action itself. The sex was… phenomenal. She couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.

When a bit of the afterglow wears off, she is haunted by a question: What happens now?

More importantly, are you coming back? Or is this a one-time thing for you?

With a weighty sigh, Wanda allows herself to collapse back onto the mattress. Doubt creeps in as she begins to question whether her decision to let this unfold was the right one. After all, you’ve both been down this path before, sex was not a magic remedy that mended everything.

What she couldn’t deny, however, is how gentle you were with her. You were making love to her, and nothing could sway Wanda from this belief. It sparks a tiny ray of hope within her that perhaps this time, you're ready to give her another chance.

Maybe, just maybe, you're open to trying again.

Yet, the vacant space next to her feels almost accusatory. Wanda has never been fond of waiting. But it’s the only thing she can do for now.

After all, beggars can’t be choosers.

***

The call from her therapist comes at around nine in the evening. Wanda considers it a little unprofessional, given the late hour, but she supposes that Calliope sees at least a dozen patients a day. Truthfully, she’s been anticipating this call all day, especially after she deliberately skipped her session to–

A soft snore escapes from your half-open mouth, drawing Wanda’s attention momentarily.

–spend time with you. Wanda can’t explain it, but she’s afraid to bring this up to Calliope. And she knows that if she sees Calliope or talks to her, it would open the floodgates and everything will come rushing out before she can stop them.

She's missed two calls now, but the phone in her hand vibrates again and Calliope’s name stares back at her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda finally picks up.

“Hello, Wanda?”

“Hi,” Wanda replies, aiming to sound cheerful.

Calliope wastes no time getting to the purpose of this call. “You missed this morning’s session. Did something happen?”

Wanda's gaze drifts to you, sleeping soundly, your hair a mess as it spreads out in every direction. The sheets have slid down, exposing your bare back in a manner that makes her want to abandon the call and join you.

“Oh, uh... I just got tied up at the cafe. Sorry for not informing your secretary,” she hastily lies.

“So, everything's okay then?”

“Yes,” Wanda confirms, her eyes never leaving you as she replies honestly this time. Calliope seems satisfied with that and proceeds to book a slot for Wanda two days hence before ending the call.

You open an eye at her lazily, your voice muffled by the pillow as you ask, “Who was it?”

“No one,” Wanda says without batting an eye. “Just a supplier for the coffee shop.”

Your response is a drowsy murmur, your face sinking deeper into the pillow as you pursue the lingering traces of Wanda's scent. A smile tugs at Wanda's lips at the innocence of the gesture, despite the fact that you’re very naked under the covers. She hadn’t anticipated she’d see you again so soon, moreso that she’d sleep with you again right away when she does. But you had showed up unannounced, yet again, and casually asked Wanda if she'd eaten dinner already. Wanda had barely gotten the word ‘yes’ out, before you’re urgently reaching out and snatching her into a hungry kiss.

And then it was all lips and touches and her coming into your mouth three times until she had to literally cover herself with her hand just to get you to stop.

Wanda's cheeks warm as she surrenders to the memory of your fervent reunion from only a few hours prior, but your sleep-laden murmurings, muffled as they are by the pillow your face is buried in, yank her back to the present. She chuckles lightly and perches herself at the edge of the bed, drawing a line along your back with her fingertips, raising goosebumps along the path.

"Can you repeat that?" she prompts, massaging your neck.

You lift your head slightly, your eyelids still heavy with sleep. “I said–do you need me to go?”

Wanda shakes her head, even though you can't see her. “Let’s just sleep,” she whispers.

Wanda gets up to remove her shirt over her head. Then, she slides back under the sheets and curls up against you. She presses her bare body to your back, fitting herself perfectly against your shape. Your warmth seeps into her, filling the cold spots that your absence had left behind.

Wanda notes that this is the first time you’re willing to stay since before you found out she cheated on you. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift away. If you’re staying, then there's an opportunity to talk about this tomorrow.

***

Leaving a slumbering Wanda behind is not easy. You have to gingerly disentangle yourself from her grip to avoid waking her up. Initially, sleeping with Wanda was not part of your plan, but seeing her with Valkyrie had stirred a sense of jealousy within you that led to a powerful desire to claim Wanda as yours.

And so it kept happening, again and again–like a drug you just couldn't shake off.

You haven't really thought about what it all means. To be honest, you've been actively avoiding it. A week of overthinking has left you stuck at a dead-end, feeling numb and desperate to feel something, anything at all.

And in all this, Wanda is the only one who seems to fill the void, the only one who doesn't make you feel so alone.

***

“Dr. Williams?” Pietro says hesitantly as he picks up the call.

“Hi, Pietro. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time,” comes Calliope's voice, clear and loud.

“No, I was just–did we have a scheduled meeting that slipped my mind?” he inquires, wondering about the suddenness of this call.

“We didn't,” Calliope assures him. “I'm actually calling about Wanda. Have you had a chance to speak with her recently?”

Pietro doesn’t like the sound of this. “No, I haven’t. Is she okay?”

“She missed her appointment this morning without notice. It’s the second time in a row. And I just got off the phone with her… she was deflective.”

“I'll check in with her,” Pietro promptly assures, before adding more softly, “Should I be worried?”

“She has agreed to meet me on Tuesday,” Calliope replies, deftly skirting around his question. “So, it may not be a pressing matter. I apologize for disturbing you.”

“No problem at all, Dr. Williams. Feel free to call anytime.”

As the call ends, Pietro is left alone with his thoughts. His mind is whirring with worry for Wanda, and he sits there for a moment, lost in thought. With a sigh, he places his phone back on the coffee table, a frown etching itself onto his face.

Feeling restless, he picks up his phone again, fingers swiping the screen with a certain degree of nervousness. His gallery opens up, a collection of countless memories frozen in pixels. He scrolls through it, stopping at a particular picture that still haunts him.

It's a hard image to look at, a memory of a particularly painful day. But he keeps it, just in case he needs it, a ghost hiding in his phone.

He knows, if push comes to shove, he has this to fall back on.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #yelena belova #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader

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onepiecepetalfanfics089 · 7 months

Text

Can you do yandere strawhats with a female reader who had woken up from a nightmare/memory of escaping her abusive ex and she’s in need of comfort?

Never Leave You Alone~..

Trigger warning!!:violence and remembering trauma!

Darkness surround you as cold sweat trickled down your body.

The room was illuminated by the moonlight but that gave you no comfort, looking around frantically you clenched your sheets and but your lip. Tears were building up in your eyes already.

Was it all a dream?..it had to be..

We’re they coming for you?..

No way..you were in the middle of the sea on a ship..they couldn’t find you right?..they wouldn’t hurt you again…they couldn’t..

Getting up out of your sheets you quickly got out out of the bed in your room to go and find some comfort at last..

———————————————————————

The dream was somewhat simple at first but so…familiar..

You were in the kitchen and making yourself a snack at your old home. Before you joined the strawhats that is..

Before you could escape from them..

Everything was nice quiet and peaceful when suddenly..

BOOM

The door flew open and your breath hitched. You clutched the counter slightly but tried to remain calm.

Just their presence alone made you shake and tremble..

Footsteps slowly came closer to you as you could hear them approaching the kitchen. You shut your eyes for a moment and tried to go back to what you were you doing, your hands were shaking to much though so you almost dropped the butter knife you were using to spread some jelly on a slice of bread.

The footsteps came closer..and closer until they stopped. Right behind you.

Silence filled the air as you held your breath, feeling your lungs tighten from the pressure and caution that was building up in your body.

…

“So you aren’t even going to say hi to me?..your partner?..typical..”

They said in a mocking tone with a scoff.

With trembling lips you slowly brought it up into the best smile you could manage to plaster in your face.

“H-Hi dear..I’m sorry I..zoned out while I was making a snack!”

You had learned to hide your fear by now from being with them for almost a year..

A year you’ve been abused by this monster..

Little did you know that your ‘freedom’ would be sugar coated with golden chains when you meet the people who will ‘save you’..

Their eyes stared blankly into yours with a hint of annoyance and even hate..

Why were you even here?..you knew they didn’t treat you right..

But every.single.time. you tried to leave..they would beg for you to come back..they would say that they’ll change for you..

Glancing at the sandwich you made they took it without a thought and took a bite of it, without even asking and knowing that it was yours that you made.

Only a split second passed and they spit it out with a snarl, glaring at you like you were the most disgusting thing they saw today.

“How the hell can you even screw making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich wrong?! You’re fucking pathetic!..I swear I even wonder why I put up with your shit.”

They said with an eye roll. Your heart sank as every single word felt like a stab to your heart. Looking down sadly you had nothing to say, mumbling a apology for something you didn’t even need to apologize for.

Out of no where, they slapped you. Hard.

The pain stung your cheek as you brought your hand up to it with sadness, fear and shock shown all on your face.

Then another slap came..then a punch to your face.

“P-Please! Stop it I’m sorry!”

You cried, desperately trying to get out of their grip but no use as they held you by your neck. Hatred and violence was written across from them, a smug smirk of power even spread across.

Then another punch came and you saw their fist..you shut your eyes with a whimper..

‘Please stop please stop!!’

Suddenly everything went blank you woke up. The moonlight illuminating the room and the cold sweat trickling down your body and face.

Tears now streamed down your cheeks.

Comfort is what you needed..

And that’s what you’ll get..for a price though..

Slender and graceful hands slowly massaged your back and shoulders to calm you as you drank sone tea Sanji made you. Robin was sitting down beside you and using her powers to ease your stress with your touch while you ate a mid-night snack made by Sanji of course.

Your mind was scrambling and you almost felt dizzy, why does this keep happening to you..?

Sanji’s hand slowly crept up to your thigh and began to rub rub sensually. His thumb slowly moving in a circular motion while the mix of his cologne and cigarette smoke filled your nose from time to time to the point where you couldn’t really smell the tea because he was so close..

You didn’t notice though and just kept trying to lean into their touch. Trying to relax after dreaming of such horrors..

Robin and Sanji weren’t the only ones who’d woken up in the middle of the night to comfort you,

After you woke up you ran to Robin who shushed your sweetly and took you to the kitchen. That’s when you saw Sanji who was doing some late cleaning in the kitchen. Then Nami came out because you were being a bit loud, Brook next..Then Franky then chopper and usopp. Jinbe after and lastly Zoro and Luffy came out because of the ruckus.

“I-I don’t know why I can’t seem to forget about them..or at least get over them..”

You said shakily, your voice was trembling as you looked down at your lap and clenched te tea cup you were holding onto.

All eyes were on you and no one seemed to talk immediately. Brook was playing your favorite song on the violin while Chopper was mixing up what he said to be some nice and relaxing night medicine.

The image of them ran through your mind like wild fire as you started to get chocked up..this was horrible..how could you put all this on your crew?..

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this again..I-”

“Stop it.”

Zoro’s monotone voice cut Your sentence short as you blinked back your tears and looked up at the swordsman who sighed and got up, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking in your eyes.

“Y/N..we’re a crew and we’re your friends..you can come to us as many times as you need because we’ll always be there for you..didn’t we say that when you first joined..?”

He asked slightly raising an eyebrow and leaning a bit closer to you, a dark and cautious feeling started to boil in your stomach but..you were so blind with how much they cared for you..their comfort..their attention they gave to you..

You slowly nodded and smiled sadly.

“Yeah..You’re right..I shouldn’t be ashamed of just telling you my problems because that’s what friends are for..” you said softly as his thumb brushed across the back of your neck.

You could feel Sanji’s hand grasp a bit tighter on your thigh but of course not enough to hurt you.

“Y/N dear..you should probably get some sleep now..if you need us just come to us again because we don’t mind..” he said softly, his eyes burning into yours.

Luffy grinned and nodded along with the cook. “Yeah..we’ve got sone stuff to take care of anyways..”

“It would be best if you take this medication Y/N..it’ll help you sleep better and more peacefully..” chopper said while pouring sone pastel purple liquid into your drink that you assumed was the medicine.

For some reason you felt…unsure about this..

What would they do after you fell asleep..? The look on their faces seemed..unusual..

Reluctantly, you nodded and took a sip of your tea. Almost two seconds after it hit you. Your eye lids were droopy and you could barely sit up straight.

Just why was this stuff so strong..?

Big strong and metal arms picked you up bridal style as the sound of Luffy giving orders rang through your ears. His voice sounded a bit more serious for some reason and the crew looked even more unamused about what they were about to do.

Once you were out into your bed you couldn’t even say goodnight to Franky. He tucked you in and stared at you for a bit. Patting your head he adjusted his sunglasses and walked out of your room in the womens quarters.

Silence filled the air and the only sound that was truly audible was the padding of footsteps heading down to the lower deck.

To a room that kept something very..special..

Ten figures loomed over a person who was tied up in a chair, their mouth gagged, arms and legs tied together but most importantly they were awake to feel all of it.

Your ex was in that chair. They were about to have the worst night of their life it seemed.

The gripping of swords, cracking of knuckles, the sound of someone lighting and of course the creating of a large thunder cloud was heard as the crew got ready to fight.

Fear was written all over the person who dared to hurt you so badly face. They tried to beg, to scream and plead. Funny right? Almost the same way that they begged and pleaded for you to stay..!

These pirates were having none of it.

It was too late for them..although you didn’t even ask for this..for them to..take care of the person who hurt you so bad..

They’re your crew mates after all so you didn’t need to.

After how they treated you..how much they hurt you..they would do anything to protect you..

They’ll Never Leave You Alone again..they can promise you that..

Hey guys!! I hope you liked this one because I sure did! I loved writing it and I tried to put as much emotion as I could because I feel like I’ve been lacking lately on my stories lol 😭 thank you to whoever requested this because I love it and I hope I wasn’t too much writing it! I got sone stuff in the works that I KNOW you guys will like so i would be prepared! Also I am still taking requests! but until then bye my lively petals!!❤️🌸💕🫶🏼

Oh and by the way I just wanted to say that if you are in a abusive relationship, physical or mental then please seek help. No matter who you are you deserve better than to be treated like that and you are so much more than you think you are <3 please reach out for help if you’re suffering like that from anyone because you’re beautiful and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does. If you’ve successfully escaped out of that toxic relationship then I’m so so proud of you and you deserve to be rewarded. I’ll say it one or twice or as many times as I need to, you deserve more and you are important.

Stay safe my pretty petals<3🌸

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beary-rambles · 9 months

Text

request: jacerys x maid!reader | reader has been working for them for a long while and jace has had a little crush on her since then. (also rhaenyra shipping them on the low would be so sweet)

tags: nontarg!reader, implied slightly older reader, mostly jacaerys pov, no use of y/n, not proofread, i think that's it?

w.c | 2.2k

a/n: i am back! so sorry for being inactive i am so happy to be able to write again i have missed you guys, getting through requests now, but it will probably take me awhile to get to the scream requests since im really unmotived to write for it but i missed writing for hotd so here you go, i hope you guys enjoy!

the first time he had ever spotted you was when he was eight. you had been assigned to be helaena personal maid. he had been standing in the courtyard preparing for another sword fighting lesson. he notices out of the corner of his eye aegon lifting his head before aegon mumbled under his breath and curse as he shakes his head bring his head back down. jacaerys looks up to see heleana, knowing of the recent betrothal and aegons distaste at the idea of course he would have a reaction like that. his eyes drifted over to the girl standing besides helaena and he felt a sudden sensation of butterflies flow into his stomach.

Curiously he picks it up and opens, It feels wrong of me to do this. Princess Heleena just recently taught me how to write and the first thing I felt I needed to do was write something to you. I hope you do not laugh. I hope that while I express myself you find it in yourself to listen. My eyes always find their way towards you. I always find myself thinking about you. I feel too embarrassed to write more though my heart yearns too. Forgive me my prince. I shall hope we talk more. With all i have,

He finds himself tracing the sloppy signing of your name at the end of your letter. His head can't make sense of the words you say despite the fact he wants to so badly. He falls back onto his bed and reads over your words over and over again with a fond look on his face, already planning on what he was going to write back. The two of you begin to write more and more letters to each other. It was easier than speaking in person. Things that could not be uttered in person were said over word, the letters grew more and more personal. He felt like he was looking into your soul with every word as you must have felt as well. But then lady Leana had passed and he had to go to driftmark to the funeral though he was more upset about the passing of ser harwin. Before he had left for driftmark you had slipped a letter for him before he had left. He didn't have the energy to open it then, feeling too much grief to read your sweet words. A part of him is glad he didn't because he didn't realize that would be the last he would see of you for many years. They did not return to king's landing which means he did not get to see you. No more letters, no more passing glances, no more you. He stayed in his bed and cried for awhile, he remembers his mother coming in and trying to comfort him but nothing had worked. Even ten years later he still mourned you like you had died, he had managed to get over his sad slump but you still lingered in his mind like a disease he could not cure, an itch he couldn't scratch. He wondered if you thought of him like he had thought of you. Word had come that they had to go back to king's landing. With lucerys position as heir to driftmark being challenged they were expected to return for a trial. While he feels as though he should be sad, he should be angry. His heart leaps with hope that he gets to see the dear maiden that had stolen his heart. He had never opened up your letter from all those years ago, wanting to savor and save what could be your last words to him for a special occasion. He decided that now would be the time, as he sits on his bed with his stuff packed, only minutes until they were set to leave with shaking hands he rips open the letter.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he opens the letter and gasps. My prince, It broke my heart to find out you were leaving. I hope that you have not let your grief consume you, that you shall continue to be happy no matter what. He notices some large splotches of ink as if you had been pressing too hard against the paper in thought. I must tell you this though it is improper. When you return you will never speak to me again. You may never write to me again yet I must say this now. From the day we had locked eyes and my eyes saw you smile you hard earned the key to my heart. You are the chosen one. Hand selected as the owner to the place which you and only you will ever belong. I hope that you do not laugh. I hope that you are not repulsed or you are not hateful. From the day we met I have loved you and I shall think of you always for you are all I yearn for. I shall await your return. I know not how long you will be gone but I will be here, my sweet true love. I am but a low maiden yet you are everything to me as you must be to all. When you return you may choose to ignore this letter. I am more than willing to act as if this letter never existed, I will be the one to turn this letter myself if you wish. Just please, do not punish me by never speaking to me again for I fear my heart will never recover. With all my love, Yours.

The letter shakes vigorously in his hands as teardrops fall onto the page. He must see you. He gets up and rushes towards the yard where the rest of his family awaits where they are boarding to leave. With the letter clutched to his chest he runs through the halls, the only thought going through his mind being you. He carefully, or as carefully as he can with the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the nervous shaking of his hands, folds up the letter and stuffs it into his pocket before continuing to rush towards his dragon. An arm grabs him and he whips his head around ready to curse and scream at whoever it had been before his angry face softens. “My queen.” she cups his cheeks as she frantically looks him over. “Has something happened? Why are you crying, my son?”

He feels himself grow overrun with emotions as he stumbles, unable to answer. Instead he grabs the letter and presents it to her. “My.. she wrote to me.. Her letter I must.. I must..” he cannot find himself. He looks down at the ground as rhaenyra glances over the letter and looks at her son with a heartfelt look. “Do you love her, my boy?” his heart begins to hurt as he begins to think more and more about you as he nods. He lets out a strangled noise as he clutches his chest. “I must see her mother, I must.” He never calls her mother. rhaenyra feels herself overcome with an indescribable feeling as she lets him go. “We shall head out right this moment.” They do. He feels himself riding faster than he ever had. A part of him worries you will not be there. Maids are easily dismissed and rid of in kings landing so his heart hurts as he thinks he has missed you

. They arrive and he finds lucerys is stuck to his side. Despite the fact that all he wished to was run off to find you he knows he must take care of lucerys as well. Walking into the courtyard he's taken back to his childhood, with lucerys eyes locked onto the fight happening jacaerys finds his eyes looking around at the viewers watching from above the courtyard. Suddenly his eyes lock onto a very familiar set of eyes. Yours. You look as gorgeous as you did the day he had last shall you if not more. You were standing in the exact same place you were when he first saw you with a look of shock. He finds himself stumbling away from the crowd to get a better look at you as his heart pounds so loud his ears may begin to ring. You were here. Standing in front of him. He gulps and watches as you quickly rush towards the staircase down to the courtyard. His skin begins to burn as his legs begin to shake. Everything in his body telling him he should run to you. Bring you into his arms. Allow your skin to touch him. Suddenly you are standing in front of him, panting slightly while your eyes dart all over him with surprise. “My prince… you have returned.” He grabs one of your hands in a soft grip, he sees you inhale sharply as he brings your hand to his lips and places a kiss to the back of your hand. his lips burning as he aches to kiss your skin once more. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting, my love.” You gasp before a smile graces your lips and tears fill up in your eyes. “Truly?” He places yet another kiss onto your skin, “More than anything.”

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xnchxntmxnt · 8 months

Note

Hey! May I ask for a pt 2 of the "skating in heels" piece you wrote, please? No pressure if you don't want to do it!

WHEW OKAY anon. Love ya. Thank you for the request. I forgot it was there for several months im sorry 😭 forgive me

Characters: Kojiro Nanjo, Langa Hasegawa

Warnings: above text if needed

gn reader

reblogs > likes

send an ask to join my taglist

part one

Kojiro “Joe” Nanjo

Small warning: talk of injuries but its in a light hearted and teasing way, nothing graphic

Alright

See this guy

He’s gonna think its impressive

Clapping, cheering, the whole bit

You can probably sense a but coming

BUT

He’s watching and he’s like

That cant be THAT hard

Ahaha yeah. Sure joe

So you scour the internet trying to find him a pair for 2in heels (start a little easy on him)

They usually dont make heels in his size but dammit, youre stubborn, you find some. Theyre international shipping so you gotta pay the extra money and wait a little longer, but he tested you and now he gets to reap the benefits

Honestly, i love being petty with kojiro because he wouldn’t get upset he just matches your energy

So these heels come and you take him to a skate park on a less busy night when there aren’t any teenagers around. And bring a helmet just in case

“I haven't worn a helmet skating since i was sixteen!” “I know, and you got a concussion two weeks later. Wear it”

So he does, but makes fun of you for it endlessly

Until he falls on his ass coming down off the halfpipe and slams his head into the concrete. So he was happy for it then

Now he just has a bruised butt and ego, but no bruised BRAIN

(dont get concussions kids, i did and it was not fun)

He gets up, dusts himself off, and grumbles something about how he put his foot in the wrong place and he’ll get it next time

(he’s not used to the gap between the heel of the shoe and his toes. Makes a difference)

After making some excuses he tries again. Falls again, and this time its because “the shoes aren’t broken in”

Several tries and excuses later, he gives up and puts his sneakers back on. He respects your ability a lot more after that

Langa “Snow” Hasegawa

Shocked pikachu face

Not much more i can say

Langa is a man of few words and i think he’d just stand there staring at you

You decided to show off to him & reki at the skate park randomly one day (they were very curious what the shoes were for) and pull a couple small tricks on the board

Reki’s all sorts of excited and cheering for you because he’s never seen someone DO that before

Langa just. Sits there mouth slightly open

(gets made fun of for it gently lol)

When youre done and skate back over langa begins spinning you around and checking you for injuries or anything because “that can be very dangerous” and he’s worried about you skating in shoes that are not meant to be skated in

But when he’s finally satisfied and knows that youre okay and didn’t pull anything he’s slightly smiley

“That’s very impressive”

“Thanks, langa”

Proceeds to talk about it for the next SEVERAL days with reki, but doesn’t tend to bring it up with you. No one’s sure why, but he just cant stop singing your praises when you’re not around

Not out of malice, he just does that. Talks a lot about the people he loves when theyre not there. Cute habit of his

He thinks youre so cool though and loves to watch you skate when you put your heels on (or just watch you skate in general

taglist

@grays321 @dear-koi @sirimirihiro @momoewn @poeberlyavenue

#//ɪɴʙᴏx #//ᴏʀɪɢɴᴀʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ #//ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 the infinity x reader #kojiro nanjo #kojiro nanjo x reader #kojiro nanjo x gn reader #joe #joe sk8 #langa hasegawa #langa #langa x gn reader #langa x reader #langa hasegawa x reader #langa hasegawa x gn reader

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toska-writes · 1 year

Note

hello i just find u'r blog and immediately fall in love with u'r works, i just want to say thanku so much for all u'r beautiful writings! it's just not easy to find platonic fic and I'm really grateful to find u'r blog 😭❤️ if u don't mind please make more codywan x padawan reader, no pressure tho only if u want it. once again thanku and have a nice day love 🥺❤️❤️

Thank you! I love this ship sm

“Dinner Party”

Paring: Codywan x padawan reader (Platonic)

Warning: mentions of food and eating if you don’t like that kind of stuff but nothing else

Word count: 1189

Notes: so I didn’t do a great job with the Codywan and it’s mainly just Cody so…. I’ll have to give this prompt another go

Obi-wan tapped his foot absentmindedly under the table. Over and over again. You seemed to be the only one to notice as the rest of the room was filled with loud chatter from the many different senators.

Looking around for a second it seemed that Cody had also taken an interest of Obi-wand nervous habit- it was quite hard for a young padawan and a Clone commander to find common ground with the many different people that filled the room.

Of course your master didn't seem to have the problem when he wasn't lost in thought.

You had to admit Cody looked quite odd in a military uniform instead of his sunburst armor that apparently can come off. But a change in pace can be good sometimes.

As your master came back to reality since he wasn't really invested in what a highly decorated senator was saying he looked between the two of you clearly puzzled by your stares. "Is something wrong?"

Both you and Cody made eye contact and a huge smile played at you lips. "Oh no Master I was just wondering how you view Senator Gunrays insights on Coruscant and weather you believe in any of them."

He stared at you for a moment then shot a quick look at the person you were talking about.

A quick nod from him then he said. "Oh yes my young padawan it seems he did say some very interesting things." He fished around his mind for some words. "You can learn many things from the people around you if you just listen."

Cody leaned over from your left side giving Obi-wan quite the look who was sitting to your right, basically asking if he was serious.

"Any more insightful tips to give your padawan sir?." Cody said in quite the formal voice but his eyes said other wise.

"I'll let you know when I think of another dear" was all he quipped back when the clatter of dinner trays filled the room.

You felt a slight nudge to your shoulder as Cody leaned closer to your ear. "Thank the maker I'm starving."

You really could only nod in response since you were also ravenous and a plate full of food was being sat down in front of you.

It was your turn now to give your Commander a quick nudge as you looked to see his eyes blow wide, taking in the abundant food.

Looking at your own plate you felt sort of.... Disappointed?

Not that you weren't grateful to be sitting in a lavish room full of very important people about to eat a full meal that just came out hot, because you were.

The food just didn't seem right for you.

A lump of grayish blue mystery food sat towards the edge of your plate decorated with unusually green ferns.

The main course was- using your best guess some sort of fish. Forks and drinks clanked together as you watch many others enjoying what seemed to be the same meal, but the smell that wafted through the air from your plate made you question if they were really enjoying it.

It would be rude if you didn't eat it though right?

Picking your fork up after choosing what you hoped was ‘the right one’ from the multiple that sat beside your plate you gathers some of the food onto the fork.

To your right Cody clearly was trying to slow down but when all you get is ration bars this must be heaven. This was one of the many reasons you discovered as to why Obi-wan fought so hard for Cody to sit next to everyone at this party as an equal and not just a soldier.

The smell got stronger as it travels closer and closer to your face. I don’t want to be rude, you thought once again and stuffed the dinner into your mouth.

In that moment it finally answered the question of what the underside of a Bantha would taste like.

It traveled roughly down your throat leaving an odd burning sensation in its place.

“Are you alright Y/N” Obi-wan turned to you now as he once again somehow stomached the food in front of him.

“Oh yes master, just taking my time enjoying my food.” You reluctantly scooped another bite and ate that too under the watchful eye of your master.

Before he could respond a loud senator near the head of the table called for Obi-wan to be apart of whatever they were discussing. Weather it was an act under the influence or sober was up for debate.

You were grateful that something on the table was familiar and you downed that water like there was no tomorrow.

The need to eat food and the fact that it was gross was fighting with eachother inside of you as you took yet another bite.

If you didn’t want to scare the senators off by throwing up all over the table you decided for the best that that was your last attempt to be nice.

With a huff you leaned back in your care, crossing you arms over your front. “Not a fan of the food sir?” Cody inquired setting his cleaned off fork nicely on the plate that matched it.

The best answer you could give was a simple nod then you had to add.” Since I’m telling you Cody it tasted like absolute bantha shit.”

Cody laughed at your remark nearly knocking over a few glasses in the process. The odd looks from other senators went unnoticed by the pair as they continued to laugh.

“I’ll have to be honest Y/N I think it was that too.” Cody added after you collected yourself.

“I can’t believe you ate that.” You laughed again. This conversation seemed more like two siblings joking at the dinner table then it did two commanders pretty much sitting in at a political meeting, strange how somethings are.

“I think I have a few snacks on the ship if you didn’t like the food but I’m afraid I can’t get them now.” Obi-wan added under his breath when he finally got away from the talking for a few moments.

“I can mange until then but thank you master.” Without another word and before being pulled back into another ‘very interesting’ conversation Obi-wan pulled some of your untouched food onto his own plate.

“No need to offend the chef now.” He spoke before his name was called yet again.

You felt Cody shuffle beside you, digging in the pockets he wasn’t every used to and tried to find something.

After a moment and satisfied with what he found he slid you something across the table. “Taste like sand but it might be a little better then nothing at all.”

You couldn’t even spare a question as you opened the ration bar and started eating it right away. “Is that the only thing you could find to fit in your pockets since a blaster wouldn’t do it?” You asked with a smile.

“Oh no Crys is just a picky eater.”

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97

#star wars clone wars #clone wars #star wars #the clone boys #the clone wars #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys #codywan #cody x reader #cody tcw #reader insert

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meshlasolus · 2 years

Text

House Of Memories (42/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: ansgt (the usual) bad decisions (also the usual)

Summary: There's a new mission, and you discuss your uneasiness of it with your dear friend, Anakin Skywalker.

A/n: tbh this is just Anakin fluff... there will be a second update tonight, and you can thank @elmontsmile for that bc she made me

also y'all if you like the story, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

Words: 2.1k

The new mission, the one that had been discussed for hours in the council room, in a meeting that overtook your training time by an hour, it was possibly the biggest mission in the temple since the clone wars began.

A team of about thirty Jedi, including several council members were assigned to the task. Those council members by name, were Mace Windu, Plo Koon, Yoda, and of course, the reliable Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. There were several other knights, with their clone battalions at the ready, one being Anakin. Since this mission required as many available hands as they could acquire, you would be standing on the front lines with your Master, ready to face whatever challenges arose.

The droid army, led by Count Dooku and his Sith master Darth Sidious were hiding out on a planet called D-Qar, unawares that the Jedi order obtained their location.

The mission, though overly crowded with experienced Jedi, should be simple enough. The clone battalions would do most of the grunt work, planting explosives, and making sure the perimeter was secure for you all to make a distraction. No lives were to be lost on this endeavor, that was the primary goal, which is why so many reinforcements were required. This battle was one the jedi had hoped would be in and out having had no casualties. It was a bitter hope, as in the back of their minds they knew something had to be in store. Nothing ever went as planned in the order. There were successes, sure, all the time, but often because sacrifices were made for the greater good.

There was an entire Star Cruiser filled with the lot of you, preparing for possibly the most nerve-wracking mission you'd been on since this whole thing began. Everyone was on edge, though they didn't let on, and you, as well as Anakin, were sitting in one of the many hallways, where it was quiet and serene, the only sound being the distant murmur of thrusting engines.

"Do you think we're walking into a trap?" It had been on your mind since you left, and you could only wonder if your former fellow Padawan would agree.

"I think it seems too easy. No one will admit it, but the simplicity of the plan makes them feel anxious, I can sense it in the force, it's surrounding me."

"I can, too. I wonder if the 'no casualties' rule will stand once we reach ground," you began to fidget with your hands, something you'd picked up and hadn't been able to quit, not since you were a child.

"What do you mean?" he turned his head to you, sensing more distress in your outwardly calm being than anywhere else on the ship.

"If it should turn out to be a trap, and if they are prepared for us to come... they've always been one step ahead of us, somehow. Like there's one big puppet master playing both sides, but we got his undominant hand. I can't help but feel like something is wrong about this, and life will be lost."

"I won't let anything happen to you, you know that" he promised, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, your shakiness worrying him more than perhaps you were about this.

"I'm not scared to die," you told him, smirking. You'd brushed with death more times than you could count, and most of those times, Anakin was usually there to prevent things from going too far. On the other hand, there was on person who would much rather sacrifice themself for you than put you in harm's way of any kind. "I'm worried about Obi-Wan. You know him, he's stubborn. He'd run into the face of danger if it meant keeping either of us safe."

"This might sound awful, but I've never really been concerned about him in that way. Maybe I overestimate him, but since I was a kid, he always seemed invincible to me."

You laughed, that was one way to see him. You'd seen more, though, much more, and from each little scar he ever bore, you knew his humanity was evident. He was not a god, nor was he some substantial being in the force. He was a Jedi Master, and a good one, but he was still just a man, and he could bleed. Flesh and blood, that's all he was.... but not to you. To you, he was everything, and if he'd put himself on the line to defend you, you'd be unhappy for the rest of your life. The darkness always found a way to get ahold of you when you were at your lowest.

"He is one of the greatest Jedi I've ever known, as wise as Master Yoda, and Powerful as Master Windu. I suppose I don't wish to think of him as less, because it makes him seem so... mortal."

You understood, and for the most part you could relate. You wanted to see Obi-Wan as such, and believe it, so that your mind would not worry so much, but you couldn't help yourself. He was the love of your life, and anything bad happening to him was something for you to be stressed over.

"I'm often just reminded of what life would be like without him, and though I know his capabilities, I can't help but feel like he wouldn't think twice if it were for the cause of a greater good. He's selfless, he always thinks of others," you turned to him, and he nodded in understanding. The look in your eyes was enough for him to see how much adoration you held for Obi-Wan. Your worries over him, and wishes that he might stay safe, it was what he often thought about Padme, though he was wise enough not to voice those thoughts, in fears that she would become upset. Padme was strong, and courageous, and she made it known.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't believe he would do anything that would prevent you from being happy. He cares about you more than you could ever comprehend."

"I think I might have an idea," you smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes. The mood became lighter after that, the conversation spiraling into the type of jokes you once would share. It felt like old times.

Anakin was your brother, and you loved him dearly. You never wished for a sibling, or a family member to be connected to, because in your eyes, you'd had one since you were seven years old.

"You can spare me the details."

"You started it."

It was a trap, a premeditated, organized, and prepared trap. The battle-droids were in droves of hundreds at the time. You figured they outnumbered the jedi by at least fifty to one. You may have been well trained, and your experience with these stupid clankers went without saying but having thirty of them on your six while trying to scale grounds was horribly challenging.

The Clone Troopers were trying to fend off as many as they could but given that most of them were infiltrating the base, that left few squadrons to be of service in the distraction portion of this mission. Two Jedi had lost their lives today, and you knew that the clone casualties had probably outnumbered that by ten times. No more lives, no more. You followed after Anakin, who was leading the retreating Jedi into a tunnel that would wind into the mountain, coming out the other side where your transports were. Anakin was a born leader, you could tell by his composure in rough circumstances, his calmness in the middle of a massive storm.

"Everybody in," he yelled out, guarding the entrance so that there was no chance a droid slipped in without him knowing about it.

You scanned the area, staying on the offense for as long as you could. If you switched to a more defensive form of combat, it meant you felt too overwhelmed to make any attacks, only blocking that which you could. There were very few Jedi left outside the tunnel, being you, Yoda, Anakin, Obi-Wan, and of course, the powerhouse himself, Master Windu.

He was at the very front lines, before all of you, and Obi-Wan was bringing up his rear.

"Master Kenobi, get your Padawan out of here," Mace Windu shouted over the chaos, but Obi-Wan would not leave the man to fend for himself. Yoda had made the wise choice to accept temporary defeat, heading over by Anakin to near the tunnel. He knew that fighting for a lost cause, however stoic and valiant, would only end in more loss. This was something he stood by and hoped the others would come to their senses and acknowledge as well.

"What about you?" he refused to leave a man behind. No matter their differences, they were Jedi, bound as allies by the order, and would not forsake the other to die like this. Obi-Wan was honorable, almost to a fault.

"I will be right behind you, now go!"

Kenobi used a bout of the force to push away an oncoming group of droids, which gave him a few seconds of a head start to run in your direction. You hadn't been too far from the tunnel, but he knew you weren't leaving without him. He had to snap out of his head when he first saw you. Five days out of the infirmary after being shot twice and look at you now. You were so elegant to behold. Your form of combat was so elegant, Makashi, form two... there were hints and a few subtle moves that reflected that of his own form, from what he'd taught you, you learned to combine the forms into one of your own, and it was beautiful. He had to rid himself of the thoughts, and save them for later, because this wasn't the time to be admiring you, although you deserved to be.

He rushed beside you, helping to fend off the remaining droids in your area before placing a hand at the small of your back and rushing you towards the tunnel. You looked back at Mace Windu, the way he backed up slowly, but gave you all time to escape.

Once you were in the tunnel, Anakin followed, leaving just one Jedi on the battlefield. When you were fully inside the cavernous stretches, the pathway narrow, you heard an explosion in the distance. They did it, the clones had accomplished their mission. Now it was time for you to complete yours. No more lives lost, no more.

As Mace hurried himself into the tunnel, the rocky ceiling above you began to shake. Everyone was running now, knowing that this whole location was probably becoming unstable for the blasts of the base.

The exit could be seen, and Anakin was the first one out, waiting at the opening for the rest of you to follow. Both you and Obi-Wan made it out of the cave at the same time, but upon hearing a rocky stalagmite falling from the tunnel's ceiling, you turned back. Mace Windu was trapped, with his leg rendered useless beneath the stone. He tried to lift it using the force, but was unsuccessful, probably due to the pain.

The opening of the cavern was closing in, and the rocks would enclose on him at any second, so you ran back, hearing the protesting cries of Obi-Wan behind you.

"Don't go," he tried to grab your arm, but you pushed him back, using a rush of invisible force, and kept running. You dropped to your back leg and slid under the falling debris, hearing the yells of your master become muffled as you let the darkness of the cold wet cave surround you.

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch @beetlejuice-stuff @liueski @solarbxby @sirianisrock @lxdyred @endless-warrior-always-fighter @iloveinej @msjb2002 @shoochi @itsilvermorny @gingerrosecosplay @sebschicken @loversjoy @argentinemango @1-800-vader @house-of-kolchek @marierg @graciexmarvel @ttzamara @truly-madly-nerdy @molieux @majahu @dyzlks @pancakefancake

#obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #ewan mcgregor #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader

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dootdootwriting · 2 years

Note

Yooo, if you're open for requests and you feel like doing this one, could you write reader (possibly gn) comforting Zhongli and/or Thoma? Something both fluffy and hurt/comfort, hurts good kinda vibe.

Thanks in advance!

hurt/comfort my beloved.... anyway i made up some scenarios for this!! enjoy <3

pairing: zhongli, thoma x reader (separate) tw: theyre sad lol, mentions of past trauma in zhongli's type: hurt/comfort pronouns used: none! a/n: this took me three days and i had to rewrite it because i read the request wrong someone send help </3

ZHONGLI

being alive for so long will take its toll, especially on someone who's seen so much and been in the middle of so much war

normally zhongli is calm and collected, though there are times when he has to take a break and be by himself for a while

these are the days where he pretends to be sick and tags out of work

since he's met you, however, the memories eat away at him less and less

you're able to remind him to live in the present and enjoy the moments he's living through as he lives through them - especially now that he is for all thoughts and purposes a mortal

he still has his days, though, and since you're usually busy, he doesn't like to disturb you. by the time you get home, he's usually composed himself and is ready to receive you.

except for today.

commissions went quickly and you were feeling just a little bit lonely, so you decided to go home early

instead of tea brewing and zhongli intently reading the newspaper, or an empty foyer with a note reading "went out to watch the ships, be back soon," you found nothing.

and then you find zhongli sitting on the bed, head in hands, sobbing almost silently

your hand finds its way to his back, gently rubbing slow circles into the fabric of his shirt

when he finally turns his head to look at you, you expected to find him sad. instead, however, he mostly just seems very, very tired

and thankfully, you're exactly what he needs. after a few seconds, zhongli wordlessly places his head in the crook of your neck, allowing you to hold him

it's not often that you see him like this, and while it's a bit difficult to understand what to do, you figure he just needs some comfort

you stay holding him for a while before his breaths slow down, and he removes himself gently from your arms and kisses your forehead

"thank you, my dear... i apologize for the inconvenience. would you like to go make some tea?"

you tell him he doesn't have to apologize for anything, and he lets out a light huff and brings you in for a quick hug

tea turns out to be exactly the right thing.

THOMA

ah yes, inazuma's beloved fixer, always helping someone somewhere with some sort of issue

it seems that wherever he goes, someone has a problem in need of solving, and of course he is the one to ask

and he doesn't ask anything in return! thoma is Just That Kind, and unfortunately, this means people tend to take advantage of him.

it seems these days that he doesn't even have time to have his own problems

when you meet him for a nice dinner at the komore teahouse, taroumaru greets you eagerly, tail wagging as always. you expect to see your boyfriend in the same state, as he is usually.

however, when you enter the room where you're supposed to meet him, instead, you find him exhausted and slumped over his meal.

"hey, what's wrong? are you okay?"

and BOY DOES HE TELL YOU.

thoma erupts from his seat. his arms flail out from his torso and he rants for as long as he has the breath for

it's almost funny, the way he's frustrated with everything, his limbs flapping about wildly, but you can tell how much he'd had pent up inside, so instead of laughing, you pull him in for a hug

he sighs loudly and lets his head fall on your shoulder

"i just don't even have my own life anymore. i'm sorry for yelling. i'm not mad at you."

you reassure him you knew he wasn't angry with you, and pat his back, chuckling lightly

"how about we take a week off, okay? you can tell lord kamisato i have other plans with you."

"please," he says, and you can hear the relief in his voice.

you spend the night resting with him flopped on top of you, mumbling about the people he'd helped today

and you swear to yourself: if anyone even tries to ask him for something over his break, you were going to strangle them.

#zhongli x reader #thoma x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin #thoma #zhongli #gi thoma #gi zhongli #gn!reader #hurt/comfort #zhongli hcs #thoma hcs

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paimonial-rage · 2 years

Text

sharing a drink they call loneliness - zhongli

synopsis: in which the geo archon is kept company on a night of reminiscence

ship: zhongli x reader

notes: takes place after zhongli’s first story quest; chapter 4 of bookkeeping!verse

While the director often kept many on edge, let it never be said she didn't take care of her people. Every year she'd hold a party to thank everyone for their hard work. She didn’t place it at the end of the year nor at the beginning, but always at a random date. She said it made everything more special that way. She didn't skimp either. This year, she opted for Liuli Pavilion of all places. Seeing as you came from a more humble upbringing, you never had the chance to eat such fancy food before. You were excited!

At least, you wanted to be.

Something was off. And as each day came closer to the party, that nagging sensation only grew. You wanted to ignore it. You didn’t like getting yourself involved in the business of others, especially when it involved him, but you couldn’t stop yourself from noticing every time you passed each other by. Something was off. Something was wrong. And you hated nothing you did could erase it from your mind.

You bit your lip as you closed the door to the Pavilion behind you. The cool autumn air nipped at your skin and the moon was full. It was a beautiful night. But you didn’t leave the party to enjoy the quiet. So once your eyes fell upon the stairs heading to the second floor across the courtyard, you nodded to yourself.

Perhaps he would be up there.

You weren't a stalker, you swear you weren't! But when you saw Mr. Zhongli leave, you couldn't help but follow. You were pretty sure nobody noticed. Honestly, you doubted they would even remember much of the night at all with the amount of bottles they were going through. It was better that way too. The last thing you wanted was them to see you fretting over him.

But could anyone blame you?

He was already seated on a bench facing the harbor when you made your way to the top of the stairs. Beside him were a bottle of wine and a number of cups on a platter. Seven, to be exact. As you watched, the same feeling that settled in your chest only increased. You often saw him alone, but this was different. You didn��t like this, you didn’t like it at all.

Though you willed yourself to take a step forward, your body refused to obey. If you did approach him, what would you even say? Would he welcome your presence? It wasn't as if you hid your dislike of him, after all. Perhaps he would think you're mocking him? Or worse, he may pretend that nothing is wrong at all. And then what would you do? Would you be able to accept a lie?

You sighed.

Perhaps it would be better if you just left him alone--

"Excuse me, dearie. Old lady coming through."

You barely could repress a loud squeak as you jumped a foot into the air. So immersed you were in your thoughts that you didn't even realize you were blocking the stairs! You rushed to the side.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Let me get out of your way!"

As she said, she was an old woman. Though small, somehow she gave off an air of being stronger than she looked. Perhaps it was that knowing smile on her lips. In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel you’ve seen her before.

"It's alright, dear. No harm done. Besides,” she chuckled, “you seemed quite interested in that young man there. Are you worried about him?"

Your heart jumped as you waved your arms wildly.

"M-Me? Worried?? About him??? Don't be ridiculous! H-He just left the party early, so I decided to check on him and--"

The old woman laughed once more.

"Sorry, don't mind me. Us old folk get more nosy the older we get. Even if you're not worried about him, if you ask me, it looks like he could use some company. So why don't you do this old lady a favor and join him?"

You felt a bead of sweat run down your back. W-Wait, you already talked yourself out of this, but with that twinkle in her eye, it didn't seem like she was going to move until you went over to him. B-But that was okay! You weren't scared or anything! You weren't nervous. It was only Mr. Zhongli, after all. You could handle this.

"S-Sure, I'll go check on him. Have a goodnight."

And with that, you took a step. Then another step. Then another. Then... Damn it, she was still watching… So you took another and another and... Why wasn't she gone yet?? And another and–

Okay, fine! You got it! You'll just do it!

You stomped the rest of the way over and sat down with a harumph on the other side of the platter of cups and wine. You didn't bother to acknowledge his expression of surprise but instead opted to refill his cup before filling one for yourself as well. After opening your mouth to speak, you paused for a few moments before downing the cup instead. Then, you gruffly poured yourself another.

"Are you okay?"

You wanted to wince the moment those words left your mouth. Leave it to you to, in your attempt to comfort someone, intimidate them instead. Gods, maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and send the Ferrylady in your place. She was much better with words than you. And from his even more confused expression, that urge to retreat only grew.

Though it only took him a few moments to speak, it felt like hours.

"That... is kind of you, but this is the first I've heard of my not feeling well."

His voice came out light and reassuring, but felt like sandpaper against your nerves. You shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was as if all the tension that had been building in your chest over the past week finally tipped over.

You snapped.

"If that is the case, why have you been looking like that!?" And when he didn't respond, you continued, "You know what I mean! You look like... like…"

You sighed in defeat.

"Like you're waiting patiently for people you know can’t ever return. It’s worrying me. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

You bit your lip as you clutched your cup tightly. Perhaps it was due to the slight buzz in your skull that you felt your eyes begin to water. You hated getting emotional over things, but you hated how he looked so… so incredibly lonely.

“Well, are you going to say anything?” You snapped.

He hummed to himself with his fingers against his lips in thought.

"I apologize. I've been described in many ways throughout the years, but this is the first time I've heard that. But... it is more fitting than I’d like to admit. I have been in a reminiscent mood these past few days. I didn’t mean to worry you."

"Is it because of your outing with the Traveler last week?"

Even though you spoke without hesitation, you couldn’t help but fiddle with your glass nervously. You didn’t enjoy when people pried into your business, so you preferred not to with others. However, you knew it was a necessity in this case.

"Ah, yes. Perhaps it is because of that. That trip brought back… a lot of memories."

Though his tone began thoughtful, it shifted toward pained at the end. Before he could change the subject, though, you pushed more.

"What happened?”

And when he once more took too long to reply, you spun to him with your fists clenched. You felt your face flush in anger! … Yes, definitely anger.

“W-What? What's that look for?"

He chuckled.

"Well, when people approach me, it's usually for my expertise on various topics. I didn't expect someone would want to learn more about me, much less you, Honorable Bookkeeper."

You felt your face heat more.

"W-Well, when you're not helping people, you're listening to the stories of others, so I thought I can return the favor by lending a listening ear to you. You are obviously bothered by something, so maybe talking can help. B-But if I'm prying, you can tell me off… Also, stop calling me that. You are allowed to use my first name, you know."

You wanted to bury yourself as his eyes twinkled even more in amusement.

"No, it's fine. I appreciate it. Perhaps it can help. Thank you, First."

You glanced away and took another sip from your cup.

“Yeah, yeah. Stop stalling. I don’t have all day.”

He gazed at the harbor as he gathered his thoughts. Once his mind was settled, he began.

"What do you think of Rex Lapis, First?"

You frowned.

"That's a strange question. I have the utmost appreciation and respect for him. He created and protected Liyue. If not for him, we wouldn't have grown into the wonderful nation we are today."

He nodded.

"Yes, most citizens of Liyue feel the same. However, how would you feel if I told you he was a cowardly god that used underhanded schemes to further his means?"

You snorted.

"Well, I'd call you a liar to your face."

He nodded as he turned his gaze to the harbor.

"The reason why I went to Sal Terrae with the Traveler was to explore that thought."

You frowned.

"But why? As you said, everyone in Liyue has nothing but praise for Rex Lapis."

"Mostly," he corrected. "Have you heard of the Archon War, First?"

You nodded.

"Of course."

"It is said that back then, many gods existed along with their own worshippers and territory. Wanting the best for their people, many took part in the war to gain the title of Geo Archon, Rex Lapis being one of them. However, there were a few gods that did not wish to fight. The followers of one of them today believe Rex Lapis murdered their god out of jealousy. I was asked to assist in finding proof for such theory."

You snorted.

"Let me guess. They said that Rex Lapis rewrote history or something like that?"

He chuckled.

"In different terms, but yes."

Finding both of your cups rather dry, you refilled them dutifully.

"So that’s what they said? Rex Lapis resorted to dirty tricks to kill a peaceful god? If so, that's rather dumb. If they really thought about it, they'd know what they heard was wrong."

Mr. Zhongli raised a brow.

"Oh? How can you be so sure? They are not incorrect in believing Rex Lapis could have rewrote that story to suit his schemes. Can you say with confidence he wouldn’t?”

You rolled your eyes irritably.

"You know, you can ask me why I think so without playing devil's advocate, Mr. Zhongli, but fine. I'll accept your challenge."

You tilted your head back and downed your cup, scrunching your face as it flowed down your throat. Gods, the wine was strong.

"Say he did change the narrative and used underhanded methods to murder that god. If that was the case, it would be impossible for him to be the God of Contracts. But because we know for a fact he is the God of Contracts, that person’s story is impossible.”

“What do you mean?”

You groaned. You were way too tipsy to be explaining something so simple.

“Zhongliiiiiii. This is basic knowledge for every citizen of Liyue…”

He nodded.

“Perhaps, but I am interested in hearing your perspective.”

You sighed. How could you word this?

“The dominion of a god is represented clearly through the nation they rule over. That’s a fact. The culture of Mondstadt is lighthearted and free. Sumeru is the home of the greatest minds alive today. As for Liyue, contracts dictate every aspect of our lives. We view the words of a contract as absolute. We don’t make decisions without them either. Liyue never would have become this way if Rex Lapis was not the God of Contracts. Can you agree with that?"

"Hmm, I suppose so."

"So if Rex Lapis was the God of Contracts and if his people are a representation of that, we can look at Liyue's people as a model of how Rex Lapis handled contracts, right?"

"That would make sense."

"Okay, good. Now what do the people of Liyue know of contracts? We know very well how they operate. In order for a contract to be valid, both parties must agree to the terms of the contract. To ensure the terms are fair, both parties must become well acquainted with them. So how could trickery or underhanded schemes occur if they know what the terms entail?"

You paused so as to gather the rest of your thoughts.

"Don't get me wrong. Not all contracts are necessarily fair as it is possible to be coerced. And the argument could be made that he did not enact a contract with that god in the first place. But if Rex Lapis was the kind of god that did such things, Liyue would be a very different place.”

Zhongli nodded.

“Yes, I can see where you are coming from.”

You leaned back and gazed at the moon in thought.

“I’m surprised they believed such a story though. He may have passed, but his influence is still very much around us.”

He sighed.

“I’m afraid as time moves on, the details of Rex Lapis and the adepti will become even more lost to time.”

“Does that bother you?”

He hummed in thought.

“Even words engraved in stone will eventually erode away. But even if that is the case, I’d like to preserve them.”

You tilted your head in thought.

“Why?”

He frowned.

“I suppose don’t want such memories to be forgotten.”

You hummed.

"I see what you mean. Perhaps in 100 years, all he accomplished these past twenty years will become intertwined with tall tales. Perhaps in 500 years, his name will be slandered. And 500 years after that, he will become a folktale. And maybe four thousand years after that, the last person will die that remembers his name. Though I hate the thought that eventually that day will come, I can’t help but wonder if it really matters?"

"Why would you say that?"

In the back of your mind, you knew you should have been more careful in your choice of words. To view lightly the throwing away of the deceased archon’s legacy was near sacrilege. Zhongli’s unreadable expression was no doubt proof he felt the same. But the fuzziness of the alcohol caught you in its wave and you had no choice but to ride it to the end.

"Well, Rex Lapis is dead, so why would he care what happens? I mean…” You frowned as your head flopped to the side, “One day I will have children. And one day I will die. And some day after, my name will be lost to history. But when I’m on my deathbed at the end of my life, would I be worrying of such things? I think I’d be thinking about the people I love, if I did my best for them while I was well. If I made a positive impact on their life. If I made them happy. If I could be assured of that, I think I’d be able to die satisfied.”

"Hmm…"

"One day, Rex Lapis will be forgotten. That's a fact. But for the people whose lives he affected while he was alive, how do they think of him? What are the people of Liyue known as? Smart? Strong? Free? No, we're known as a proud people. There is nothing we are more proud of than being citizens of the great nation the Geo Archon built. Even if annals of history gets skewed, the fact will never change that, right here and right now, Rex Lapis left us the proudest people in all of Teyvat."

You grinned.

"I mean doesn't that make you proud?"

And in that very moment, there seemed to be something different about Zhongli. He didn’t look at you, nor at the harbor that held his attention most of the night. Instead, his eyes were upon the cup he held in hand. Upon his lips was a smile, one that brought back memories of your childhood in the arms of your parents. It was a small smile, yet one filled with immeasurable warmth, love, pride.

"Yes, it does."

—

Though you mentioned you were okay, Zhongli insisted on walking you home later that night. Perhaps it was a good thing too seeing that you couldn’t exactly hide the sway in your step. But when he took you to your door and thanked you for an enjoyable evening, you couldn’t help but feel something was missing. You still had something left to say.

So when he turned to make his way back to his home, you reached out and took his sleeve gently.

“Hey, um… You know how I said earlier that you looked like you were waiting for friends? Next time you get in one of those moods, let me know. I’ll join you so… so you won’t have to wait alone. That is, if you don't mind the company.”

He laughed.

“If I can expect it’ll be as enjoyable as this night, then sure. I will let you know.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #my writing #zhongli #zhongli x reader #bookkeeping!verse #genshin x reader

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annafox1977 · 9 months

Note

Hello hello!

I was wondering if you'd be comfortable with writing for Will A. Zeppelin from JJBA Part 1?

The curse of the Stone Mask:

Warning: angst, no comfort, slight gore, fem!reader, a bit rushed, my first writing, bad Italian

Word count: 816

Transalation: tesoro - treasure, mia cara - my dear, anima mia - my soul

You were only a cabin girl when you met your captains son, Will Anthonio Zeppeli, who you became fast friends with (and a small crush too) because you two were the same age. At the age of 20, Will’s father decided to travel to Mexico to visit an Aztec ruin. You, being the self volunteerd chef too, of course were brought along. Inside said ruins was a mysterious Stone Mask. Turns out it was exacly what the Zeppeli family was looking for, though you didn’t understand why it was so important. It was nothing but an old relic, right?

After getting the mask, Will helped you putting the crates on dock. It was still early so you were a bit sleepy. "Thanks Will, I’m not sure how long this would have took without you" you said, smiling at him. He blushed slightly, thinking about how cute your smile is, but quickly replied. "Do not worry Mia cara, I’m always eager the help such beautiful lady out" he said charmingly. You didn’t reply, but instead bashfully looked away while your face rivaled a tomato. The boys father watched the interraction between his son and the cabin girl with a smile on his face. He shlightly shook his head, then disappeared in his cabin.

The sky was clear for a while, but then it slowly got darker until it began to heavily rain. Thunders roared in the distance and the harsh waves rocked the ship. One of the crew members yelled for you. "Oi! Cabin girl! Get the captain, we need all the people on the ship to keep us steady! Hurry up, girl!"

You did as you were told, and went to look for the older Zeppeli. You eventually found him, his back facing you with a bloody blade in hand. "Captain! Captain, we need up deck! Please, come quickly!" after saying that, you noticed the blade in his hand. "S-sir are you okay?" you asked in a worrisome tone. When he turned to face you, the Stone Mask was on his face covered in blood. Now that the faint light of the candles reached his skin, you noticed how pale it was.

Before you could comment on it, he went to attack you, but you were able to escape just in time, with a scrached arm. You ran back on deck while screaming for help, clutching your bloody wound.

"The captain! Something is wrong with Mr. Zeppeli! He’s acting insane!" you shouted panically.

Some of the adults immediatly went to see what happend to their captain, while you ran to the younger Zeppeli in tears, throwing yourself in his arms.

"Y/n! Tesoro, what on earth are you talking about?" Asked the young boy being concerned for you and for his father. "I-" Before you could begin to explain you were interrupted by the crew members scream, who were standing at the opening of the lower level of the ship. Before anyone could do anything, a dark figure slaughteted the crew members. Blood was covered the whole deck, and you uncontrollably sobbed at the sight, the metallic scent of blood invading your senses.

While the monster was busy with his former men, you and Will dived in to the water in order to save your life. The former captain finished off all the 58 members of the ship and went after you two. Will was desperatly trying to hold you up and shield you from any attack. Both of you were terrified, but fortunatly for you the Sun began to rise, burning away your dear friends father. Will started crying, and cursed the mask for it’s inhuman power, swearing to destroy it.

After that fateful day, you and Will found love in each others comfort, and decided to marry one another. But the events from all those years ago won’t leave the Barons mind. He knew that in order to fulfill his promise he had to leave for an unknown amount of time.

"Y/n, mia cara, I hope that one day you will find it in yourself to forgive me, but I have to go. The mask can not get in the wrong hands." he explaind in a sorrowful tone, squeezing your hands. On one hand you underdtood your husbands reasoning, but on the other hand you were worried that he won’t come back to you and your son.

"Love, please, forget about that dammned mask! You can’t just leave us here...you’re not going to...right?" you asked with teary eyes and quivering words. The brown haired man looked at you with a saddened gaze, but then quickly answered you. "Don’t worry anima mia, I will do everything in my power to come back to you." he assured you, not knowing about his fortune that he will learn about throughout his journey.

Years passed and your husband still hasn’t came home.

»»--N O T E ----------►

☆ Hello!

☆ AAAAH MY FIRST REQUEST!!

☆ I was so excited when I saw a message, but then I saw the date and holy shit, why didn't I get a notification?💀

☆ Anyways, sorry for the long wait and I hope you enjoyed, dear anon! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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usopp-writes · 2 years

Note

HHHII I DIDN'T REQUEST ROGER FROM YOU FOR A LONG TIME AND I FEEL WRONG

With that. May i request some roger fluffy and cute senareio please? Thanks 🤍

Guess it's been a hot minute, hasn't it? Well, don't worry, I'm here to give you some sugary fluff with this old dork. I hope you don't get a tooth ache at the sweetness ;)

Enjoy <3

Roger x GN reader SFW Word count: 699

Being a captain had its perks; one of them was that he could boss people around so he would get what he wanted and when he wanted. Roger fully took advantage of it and would have gotten away with a lot, if it hadn’t been for Rayleigh reminding him that it was for your benefit that you knew how live on a ship and not just live in his arms, bedroom or sitting on his lap. Roger loved to coddle you, but knew that Rayleigh was right. It wasn’t safe for you, if you didn’t know how to live and survive in times where he was too distracted to protect you. It happened, he knew that and while he didn’t like it, he had to accept it.

However, once you had finished your duty and spend some time with the crew – Rayleigh had insisted that Roger let you socialize with the crew too – Roger picked you up from wherever you were and decided it was time for another round of cuddling or couple time. It made a lot of the crew’s eyes roll, though he didn’t care. He was very much in love with you and knew that his time was limited, so he would spend as much as he could of it with you.

You let out a surprised yelp, as strong arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to a well-built body. Tilting your head up, you smiled at Roger, his warm and bright smile met yours, before he leaned forward and captured your lips. A soft hum left you, as you melted into the kiss and embrace. You couldn’t get enough of him; he was like an addiction – one you never wanted to get off.

“How was your day, my lovely pearl?” Roger asked, lips still lightly pressed against yours, as if he didn’t want to be parted from you at all.

Chuckling, you gently parted your lips, smiling at the pout forming on his lips. Placing a hand on his cheek, you made him look into your eyes. You couldn’t help but feel like you were drowning in the hues; they draw you in; silently telling you a promise of a happily ever after – even though you knew that your time was short lived.

“Calm, boring at some point, but I knew that soon you would come in as a storm, tossing the boredom away and rock my world.” You smiled at him.

Roger burst into laughter. You loved how easy it was to make him laugh, loved hearing the music it was to your ears. No matter what the world thought, Roger was a laid-back man, who sailed the seas as a free man. Yes, he was strong and could be destructive, but he never really used that power to make people fear him. They only feared him because of the propaganda the marines spit out in the newspaper. You know knew better and your heart had fallen completely for him.

Kissing you again, Roger picked you up. “You’re right, my pearl. I’m going to snatch you away from boredom.” He started to walk, bring you to your room. Placing you on the bed, he kicked off his shoes, as you took off yours. Then he joined you, lying down next to you, his fingers going through your hair. A soft and loving smile was dancing on his lips, as you sighed contently into his touch.

It’d become a routine of yours. Once he and you were done with basic duties, you would go back to your room for some alone time. Often just cuddling and talking about everything and nothing, sometimes just lying next to each other – your head placed on his chest – and silently enjoying each other’s company. This was the time you and him treasured the most. Lying in his arms at night couldn’t really give you the love and peace as this moment did. As for Roger, it was the times where he felt most alive and content. It was in these moments where he felt he had everything a man’s heart could ever desire.

Your time together was a treasure you both held dear to your heart.

#roger x gn reader #self insert x canon #one piece x reader #roger x yn #sfw #one piece #gender neutral reader #fluff with more fluff

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rukafais · 5 years

Text

skamimikyu replied to your post: skamimikyu replied to your post: ...

honestly, the only HK ships i like are sheo/nailsmith and grumm (thanks to you ;P) so im not much of a WILD shipper to begin with sfjkf

dsfksg I’M SORRY I HAVE INFLUENCED YOUR TASTES THIS WAY but yeah i’m not very interested in ships either honestly! I have like one ship and I am Committed to it and that is more or less it

#skamimikyu #though dear readers there is nothing wrong with just being in it for shipping #that's fine #it's just not my speed

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thismessymasterpiece · 2 years

Text

Bride-To-Be

Summary - Spencer Reid never thought he would have the picturesque love written out in romance novels he can read in minutes. That is until he fell into perfectly requited love with his bride-to-be and realized that there is no traditional script of how love is supposed to go.

GN!Fiancé!Reader (they/them pronouns used but mentioned to be a bride and to have a bachelorette party... of sorts!) x Spencer Reid

Category - Fluffy fluff fluff :)

TW - Cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption (no actual written event of it, though), brief mention of reader being picked up, and Spencer being sickeningly in love <3

Please let me know if I missed anything!

Contains - Pre-established relationship (engagement), Spencer being somewhat uncanonically bold, a bachelorette party, implied bachelor party, unapologetic Jemily shipping, and Spencer being the romantic we all know Diana raised him to be.

Author’s Note - I will never leave this out: please never hesitate to make any comments or provide constructive criticism! I simply want to improve my writing and maybe spread some joy to anyone in need of it. Happy reading, my loves <3

"Please tell me you’re joking," Emily Prentiss deadpans, sitting herself casually in Derek Morgan's abandoned desk chair as if it is her own.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. You’re gonna have to repeat that last part,” JJ insists, moreso hoping than genuinely thinking she has heard me wrong.

“Hey, what Y/N wants is what Y/N shall receive… even if they would rather peruse the contents of a small but well-stocked library or homey, secondhand bookstore over the work bag of a,” Penelope Garcia clears her throat awkwardly, “mysterious man of the night.” Her last few words trail off in embarrassment.

“I am getting married for a reason,” I remind them, “I have no interest in, how was it that you phrased it? ‘A mysterious man of the night?’” The rest of my friends join in my lighthearted laughter at the expense of the sweet technical analyst.

“Alright, I do not appreciate being the butt of the joke when I only want to plan the most satisfying bachelorette party for you as possible!” She shrieks, stomping her beautifully heeled foot.

“It is my duty as the maid of honor to provide only the best for the bride-to-be!” She seems slightly hysterical at this point. Her volume catches the attention of a now warm faced man making his way over to his desk, carrying a mug so sweetly potent, it can be smelt even at quite the distance.

Taking notice of his arrival and conclusive end to the discussion, Penelope points an accusing finger at each and every one of us to accompany her parting words.

“Do not let Hotch take away any of you, my delectable crimefighters, because come heckiedizzle or high water, this wedding will be happening on Friday.” She raises her eyebrows and backs away slowly, never breaking her gaze, and eventually slamming her batcave door in her own face.

The way she behaves, one would be put under the impression that anyone was objecting. Then again, Penelope Garcia is nothing if not a gorgeously pure albeit rampant whore for theatrics. Don’t misunderstand, she agrees. A very drunken she, admittedly, but still. Truly, a shitfaced Penelope Garcia is like a world class standup comedian. I say standup but I mean more like “cling to my well-tailored cardigan for stability” comedian. Despite my open aversion to alcohol, I could honestly think of no better form of entertainment on my last day as a single person than a skit act from Penny toting around a badly hidden bottle of wine. Knowing my dear friend, Em, she would probably make it a prioritized goal to make that happen. The woman has at least six flasks of hard liquor stashed in her desk as we speak and she enjoys it a little too much that we all know it, too.

After a little more chitchat, a smiling Derek Morgan returns from the same break room my fiancé had just exited and forcibly removes a disgruntled Emily from his chair. To his credit, he attempted to reason verbally with her but when she took his favorite baseball off his desk and kept it as a hostage, he was reduced to the use of brute force. Her and her chuckling blonde girlfriend disperse shortly thereafter, leaving me to my thoughts… and the object of those affectionate constructs sitting directly across from me.

We had requested this desk positioning only days after the resign of my desk’s previous resident. While Hotch silently but strongly missed Elle, he wasted no time in authorizing the move. This master of the RBF and poker face simply could not restrain the grin that breaks across his face anytime anyone even suggests that his little push for Spence’s asking me out was a professional work of matchmaking. They would certainly not be wrong. The large rock on my left hand easily proves that much.

“What are you looking at?” I question him, glancing at him through my eyelashes which he couldn’t help thinking were wonderfully proportioned above warm cheeks.

“You,” He blatantly states, seeing no need for a filter when he felt so at home around me.

“Why would you be doing that?” I shyly wonder, breaking the intense eye contact and focusing on my fidgeting fingers.

“Well, that would be because I want to be doing that for the rest of my life,” He promptly raises himself up by the arms of his chair, moving swiftly around the annoyingly obtrusive desks, and perching himself on his rightful place at the edge of my desk.

He places his cup of coffee down on the surface under him and reaches out to gently place a hand beneath my chin.

“You look so beautiful,” He whispers as he guides me to meet his eyes, “You always do but I cannot help admiring you when you blush and fiddle with your ring. You are so adorable, it is literally mind-blowing.”

We both do not even notice that he has been leaning down this whole time and I up. Well, that is until Spencer feels a strong hand clap him hard on the shoulder.

Jumping practically six feet in the air and clear off my desk, he recognizes his strictly unwelcome greeter back to reality.

“Derek, what do you want?” His voice has jumped about two octaves and I cannot help but smile.

“Y’all are cute and all but Hotch has been giving you nasty looks for a while,” His mocking grin only widens when he nods behind the both of us. Hotch is framed perfectly in his office window, focusing on one certain point in the bullpen. As I mentioned before, he cannot help the small but easily noticeable smile that directly contracts his eyes that are forced to be apprehending.

Spencer nervously swallows before heading back to his desk. I cannot stop the little giggles that result from the sickeningly sweet change in his attitude.

“Oh my god, I really thought you were playing me,” Emily groans as we exit the car.

I grin at the sight of the mom-and-pop bookshop Garcia had found through some well-practiced digging.

“Yeah, I would hope so,” I nod at her outfit which is appropriate for a dignified three star night club at best, “I thought you were into JJ, not some older grandfather type likely to be working the cash register here.”

“Well, if you’re right, it’s working,” JJ comes up to Prentiss’ side and links their arms. Her presentation is slightly more appropriate with a fur coat covering the strappy shoulders of her matching black reincarnation of Emily’s red party dress.

I grin at them and follow the command of JJ’s swaying arm, requesting I lead the way into the shop. Pushing open the door, a small tinkling bell comes to life. From a door leading off into an unknown room, a beautifully wholesome elderly couple enter the room. Their arms are linked and their hands clasp as they grin broadly at me. Their smiles remain persistent as Garcia walks in behind me, wearing a lovely pink cardigan over her bright yellow dress. Their happy expressions falter only for an almost undetectable moment as they take in the getups adorned by the caboose of our strange albeit merry band of FBI hotties.

The suspected owners of the shop shuffle up to the checkout desk beside the door as one and greet us all with figuratively open arms. Their eyes twinkle as they watch the affectionate way that JJ and Emily cling to each other and Garcia and I joke around.

“How can we help you, my dears?” The shorter woman behind the desk questions.

Before I can answer, Pen takes over for me.

“Well, this lovely human,” she wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer, “is getting married this week.”

“Oh my goodness, congratulations!” The man throws his hands up slightly, smiling at us.

“Oh, no, not to me!” Garcia giggles sweetly. “But they are quite the catch, huh?”

I cut Garcia off before she goes on an appreciated but maybe not time appropriate positivity tangent.

“I would just rather spend the night looking at some nice books than…” I trail off.

“Partying?” The lady offers.

As I nod, they laugh teasingly.

Leaning in slightly, the man whispers, “Do you think your friends over there got that message?”

I play into their joke when I say, “No, probably not.”

“We may be a little busy over here in our,” Emily flicks a wrist at us from over in the corner of the shop she and JJ had wondered to, “bubble but we can still hear you.”

“I know!” I smile brightly over my shoulder at the two of them and they cannot help but succumb to laughter with me.

“Well, sweethearts,” the lady behind the desk says, “please let us know if you need anything at all.”

“We wish you a very happy life with whoever it is that you love,” the man adds and my heart melts a little at the pure couple.

After much deadpanning from JJ and Emily about how much alcohol we could have consumed by now and much shushing from Garcia, I have accumulated a respectable stash of books in my arms.

“Okay, Y/N, hotcakes,” Garcia lays the gentle foundation for her slight, “you know I support you in everything you do but… it would take Reid like, six weeks to read all that.”

“Good because some of them are for him,” I respond.

Before she can think of a witty comeback about how this is supposed to be my last night of single freedom and I am thinking about my husband-to-be, a telltale jingling comes from the door. Not even the elderly couple blocking my line of sight can stop my immediate identification of the newly arriving customers. I didn’t need to recognize the teasing voice of one member of the supposed duo when I knew the footsteps of the first.

Derek spots Garcia behind the welcoming woman.

“Baby girl,” He calls clear over the head of this woman, “what are you doing here?”

“Garcia’s here?” A squeaky, nervous, and ungodly endearing voice I would give anything to hear asks.

“Spence?” I almost yell, running through the bookshelves and into the front sector of the bookstore.

“Y/N/N?” He responds despite being as unflinchingly sure of my presence.

He does not hesitate to pull me into a hug, my weight causing him to stumble, sway, and spin a little as I go barreling into him.

“What are you doing here?” He whispers against my scalp as he kisses it.

“Just about the same thing I’m pretty sure you’re doing here,” I answer, voice muffling into the fabric of his cardigan. I take one last sniff of his musk before I allow him to place me gently back onto the floor.

“See?” Garcia chuckles from behind me, “I told you it wasn’t me they’re marrying.”

The couple laugh loudly and merrily but Spencer’s eyebrows draw together.

“Wait, huh?”

taglist, i suppose :)

@safespacespence

dividers courtesy of the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune <3

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ijwrsmff · 3 years

Note

Hello there

This one is a bit lengthy but can i please get headcanons of the straw hats reaction to an admiral reader(gender neutral please) who quits the marine to join them, and is at first is distrusted but does something to gain theirs trust

I hope it's not too much trouble

It's no trouble at all! I really like this idea, it was a ton of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it ^^

Luffy:

He found you during a fight with the marines

He noticed...you were so much stronger than the marines you were fighting with

Maybe not strong in comparison to Luffy...but he was extremely powerful so comparing to him isn’t fair

He saw you deal what should have been a finishing blow to his crewmates…

But for some reason you never hit them hard enough to kill them

Down them, sure...but never kill

He makes quick work of the other marines, and approaches you with a smile

“Join my crew!”

You looked at him baffled

“Quit the marines and throw away all my hard work to become an admiral because some...kid thinks I would be a good match for his crew? No thanks.”

Luffy left it at that, but knew he’d see you again soon

You encountered him once more at a nearby island

“Is...is that offer still on the table?”

He grinned wide and pulled you by your hand to his ship

He couldn’t put his finger on it...but something was special about you

He just knew the crew would love you

After they get over their initial distrust that is

But Luffy? He trusted you already

No hesitation, he knew you had a good heart and that’s what really mattered

Zoro:

He didn’t trust you...at all

He would go silent when you talked to him, giving you the silent treatment

He didn’t trust the marines...how was he supposed to know you weren’t there as a spy?

You tried to talk to him a couple times...but he just pretended he was sleeping

One day, he was up in the crow’s nest training and you walked in

“Mind if we spar? It’s been a while since I was able to.”

Since you left the marines

He huffed but gave a firm “sure”

He didn’t go easy on you, which surprised him when you handled yourself fairly well

You parried his attacks, and gave a few good jabs of your own

He respected your strength

He still won...but he expected to beat you within seconds

Not minutes, nearly half an hour of sparring

From then on, he’ll make small talk with you

Every once in a while he’ll go to take a nap and he’ll pull you down to lay beside him

He also sits next to you at the dinner table, even helping you fend off Luffy when he tries to steal your food

Overall...he respected strength. And if Luffy chose you...you were here to stay

Once he starts to trust you, he’ll protect you at all costs

Nami:

She trusts Luffy’s decision...but that doesn't mean she has to trust YOU

She won’t go out of her way to be mean...but she won’t help you if it means bending over backwards

She interrogates you, wanting to know why Luffy had chosen you

After days of interrogation on and off...she thinks she sees why

You were unhappy in the marines

Sure...you managed to become an admiral...but the happiness you had hoped to feel just wasn’t there

She discovered that in the short time you’ve been on this ship, you’ve felt happier than you ever did in the marines

She’ll be nicer after that, slowly building up her trust in you

“Want me to show you how I chart the islands we go to?”

Even if cartography wasn’t your thing, you figured it would help get you closer to Nami

After that, you would spend hours upon hours with Nami

She can be very...very protective

So once she trusts you, any comments about you that weren’t warranted she’d defend you

She wants to get closer to you, and spends the majority of her time with you

Either sitting on the deck or working on her maps

She even tells Sanji off if he starts to bother you, making the hearts in his eyes break

She’ll protect you...and she knows in her heart you’d protect her too

Usopp:

He is so...so scared of you at first

You were an ADMIRAL

How could you just give up that position to join a crew?

Doesn’t trust you for a good long while

He’s convinced you’re a spy

He lets his imagination get to him, and that drives a wedge between you two

You don’t blame him...the situation is sketchy, but you were genuine

You would spend all the time needed to get the crew to trust you

After only being with them a short period of time...you trusted them with your life

And that’s never happened before

In the marines...people wouldn’t go out of their way to save another if it meant getting hurt in the process

During battle, you stepped in front of Usopp and took a harsh blow, forming a long slash across your chest

After that...he’s significantly nicer to you

He visits you in the infirmary and looks...troubled

“What’s wrong Usopp?” You give him a concerned look

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you save me...you’re hurt now. Because of me.”

You smiled at him...so he did care

This was a good first step

Maybe eventually you can become even closer

Sanji:

He’s reluctant to trust you at first, but Luffy seems to see something in you…

Just like he saw something in him

So he tries to get closer to you, even going so far as to not flirt with you

Not until he got to know you better

The first time he really began to see the trust between you building was a regular day

Nothing particularly special about it, except you went into the kitchen while he was cooking

“Mind if I help?” It was your attempt to get closer to him

“Of course! Here, I need this mixed.”

You cooked together in relative silence, small talking every once in a while

Overall it was...nice

It was a bonding experience and he cherished it

That day, he sat next to you at the dinner table

You gave him a wide smile, which he returned

He would defend you to anyone who spoke ill of you after that

He could be quite protective, and it showed

Especially to Zoro, who made comments about your being a spy (which only made Usopp and Chopper panic more about the situation)

“Hey marimo! They don’t deserve the bullshit you’re throwing at them. Back off.”

“What are you gonna do about it, shitty cook?” A smirk formed on Zoro’s face

Oh dear...it looks like they’re fighting again

You went to speak up, but Nami stopped you

“They get like this sometimes. Though it’s impressive how quick Sanji was to take the bait this time...I think he likes you.” She gives you a wink and your face flushes

Who knows what the future will bring...all you know? Is that you made the right choice to join this crew

Chopper:

He wants to trust you...he really does

But the nagging fear of you hurting his crew is at the back of him mind

He avoids you, not wanting to risk getting hurt

Once you get injured in battle...he realizes how unfair it was that he did so

“I’m sorry y/n...you’re hurt. Please follow me to the infirmary.”

He keeps it relatively formal, only talking when he needed to do something to check on you

“Would you...come back in a couple days so I can check on the wound and how it’s healing?”

You gave him a smile “yes doctor! Thank you!”

“Hehe you don’t have to thank me I don’t deserve your thanks I was just doing what I’d do for any of our crew!” He swayed back and forth, his paws on his face as he smiled

You could swear you saw flowers around him…

After that, he invited you to play games with him, Usopp, and Luffy

While Usopp was still reluctant, Luffy was 100% on board

“Come on y/n! Play with us!” Chopper smiled up at you and...well...there’s no way you could say no to his adorable face

So you joined in

It was fun...more fun than you thought possible to have

You laughed as Chopper tagged you, and you spun around picking him up in a hug

“Chopper...thank you.”

He smiled and laughed, “for what? Tagging you?”

You shook your head, putting him down

“No...for being a good friend.”

And he was, he was your best friend. You grew closer to him in the days following and you were certain you made the right decision

Robin:

She knows what it’s like to not be trusted by the crew initially...but at least with her it was one pirate to another

You were a marine

And not just a marine...but an admiral

She is reluctant to trust you, but will give you the benefit of the doubt

She spends a lot of time with you, gauging if you’re a threat to her crew or not

She would sacrifice herself for any one of them...you’re no exception

She almost thinks its her JOB to determine if you’re a threat or not

It wasn’t until your first battle together that she finds she trusts you

You give her a look, and she knows to use her devil’s fruit

You both coordinate perfectly together, and it shows your trust

She has only battled so flawlessly with her crew...which means you’re entirely one of them now

She will defend you from that fight forward, and stands up for you when the others express their doubts

“Y/n? Would you like to read with me?” She pats the spot next to her and smiled at you

“Of course! What are we reading today?”

The two of you grow closer and closer, spending hours upon hours just...enjoying each other’s company

She looks at your smile and knows...she would do anything to keep that happy smile on your face

Franky:

He doesn’t trust you...but he doesn’t...NOT trust you

He’s reluctant to get close, but finds it’s really easy with you

He’s newer to the crew, but he trusts Luffy’s judgement

So he doesn’t have any reason not to give you a chance

He’ll spend time with you, requesting you sit in his workroom as he works on a specialized weapon for you

Over that time, you make a lot of small talk

It brings you closer together

“Y/n! What do you think?” He’ll say holding up your now finished weapon “Pretty super, right? Don’t you just love it?” He has a look of pride on his face that makes you grin

You take the weapon into your hands and feel the weight is perfect

Not light, but not overly heavy either

“Thank you Franky!” You jump up to hug him and miss seeing his face turn a dark crimson

“O-of course! Anything for a crewmate!” He hugs you back, lightly as if he’s afraid he’ll break you

This makes you laugh, “Franky...I was an admiral remember? I won’t break from a hug!”

“Well then...take this!” He lifts you up, spinning you around in circles

You both laugh, pulling each other closer and closer

Once he sets you down you see the fleeting color of pink on his cheeks

You were sure your face mirrored the same color

He knows in that moment he would protect you

Even if you didn’t need it

Maybe...protect isn’t the right word

It sounds so...one sided

“I’ll protect you...will you protect me?” He looks sheepish, almost as if he hated asking

You lean up and kiss his cheek

“I’ll protect you Franky. I’ll protect all of us...this crew...it’s special.”

He nods, knowing exactly what you meant

“Then we’ll protect each other.”

And it was settled

Brook:

As soon as you stepped onto the ship he approached you

“Your name is y/n...correct?”

“Yup! That’s me!”

He leaned down so your…”eyes” were level with each other

“Can I see your panties?”

SLAP

“...is that a no?”

It’s safe to assume...he doesn’t judge you for being an admirable

Though seeing some of the crew be distant from you...it only motivates him to speak to you more

You looked tired after playing with the crew on deck, so he approached you

“Would you like me to play you a song to help you sleep?”

You stared wide eyed, not knowing he was the musician on the ship

“Sure! Would you...maybe be able to teach me how to play an instrument?”

“Which instrument would you like to learn?”

You hummed, “I’m not sure. I’ll get back to you on that.”

And so he played you a song

It put not only you, but Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper to sleep

He would have grinned if he could, and looked over his crewmates with love

As he finished the song he looked at you once again

“Sleep well y/n...I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #x reader #gn reader #nami x reader #usopp x reader #sanji x reader #chopper x reader #tony tony chopper x reader #robin x reader #nico robin x reader #franky x reader #brook x reader

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panda-noosh · 3 years

Text

the game {draco x reader}

masterlist

---

you’ve been tormenting the malfoy family for what feels like forever.

it’s become a kind of game at this point, a game everyone is involved in. the malfoys pretend they don’t expect your presence, and you pretend you are tormenting them because you don’t like them. it’s back and forth, back and forth, and you’ve been doing it too long to back out now.

it starts the same way every time - the gate is open, and they pretend it’s because they forgot to close it. nobody mentions the fact that lucius malfoy hasn’t forgotten a single thing in his entire life. nobody mentions draco’s blonde head peaking out from behind the living room curtains, waiting for the arrival of a person he claims to despise.

you stroll in with the ease of someone who owns the place, smiling and waving at the white peacocks that have become so familiar with your presence by now that they don’t even make a noise upon seeing you. they lift their graceful heads, and then they bow them again - it’s as simple as that.

you knock on the door, grinning even wider when you hear narcissa’s faux exclamation of, “who could that possibly be?” you know for a fact that draco has warned her of your presence already, that all three of them have been expecting your arrival since they woke up this morning.

and then the door opens, and narcissa stands there in all her glory. such a tall, graceful woman, and you tell her that on a daily basis, making her blush because you are her favourite little Mudblood, and she lets you get away with things like that.

you lean against the door frame, spinning your wand between your ringed fingers. narcissa glares at you without speaking, her jaw working as she inspects you.

“evening,” you drawl. “how are you today, my dear?”

her nostrils flare. “how many times have we told you to stay away from our home?”

“oh, plenty of times. i’ve quite lost count.” you straighten, craning your neck to see over her tall frame, into the hallway beyond. standing in the foyer, just as you predicted, just as he always does, is draco. you give him a wave before turning back to face his mother. “is he alright? i haven’t seen him much at school recently.”

“my sons wellbeing is none of your business.”

draco appears at his mothers elbow. “you can tell professor snape i’ve been feeling ill.”

you smile - draco giving you orders is moreso his way of answering your questions without looking like he gives a shit. you appreciate it, this code you two speak in, because in all truth, you do worry about the malfoy boy quite a bit.

you met him in school, your very first year at hogwarts. you were crushed beneath adrenaline, having found out about your powers only a few weeks before being shipped off to this strange and wonderful new school. you had a wand, and a robe, and there was a giant man ushering you into a tiny boat, ready to take you to the future.

and then draco appeared, and he knew who you were. he must have looked through the first year list, must have looked you up and realised you were a muggle-born. he did his research, and that was the first point of respect he earned off you.

“let them in, mother,” draco says now. “the elves made too much food anyway; might as well put them to use whilst they’re here.”

you give a mock bow. “much appreciated, malfoy.”

he snarls, before mother and son turn on their heels and lead you into the home you have become so familiar with these past few years. you’ve traced these walls with your fingers a thousand times before, and you do the same now. upstairs, you hear the elves marching around, putting stuff back where they belong, chuntering amongst themselves; silently, you wonder where lucius is.

draco and narcissa lead you to the kitchen, where stacks upon stacks of food are set up along the grand dining table. draco hands you a glass of water before gesturing to the plates and saying, “dig in. and be grateful we haven’t got the ministry involved.”

“the ministry?” you raise a brow, taking a long, loud sip of your water before continuing. “draco, what would the ministry possibly do? you’ve been letting me into your home for years - it’s starting to get a little old hearing you say you don’t want me here.”

draco blinks, startled.

narcissa steps in, grabbing the water from your hand and slamming it upon the table. “we don’t want you here. the last thing we need is some filthy mudblood knocking on our door at all hours of the morning.”

the word doesn’t even sting any more - it’s a wound that has been closed long enough now to no longer hurt. so instead, you smile and say, “very true, narcissa. i’ll have my water back now, if you please.”

narcissa growls, turns and walks out of the kitchen. she always does this. it’s become part of the routine.

you grab the water yourself and take another sip. draco continues staring at you, a habit he adopted only recently. you remember the first time he did it, the first time it was more than a glance, more than an accidental brush of eye contact between you; he was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, those slim fingers tapping a rhythm against the expensive granite. you and lucius were chatting, lucius asking - yet again - why you’re here, why you can never leave them alone, why you aren’t at school. you were going to answer, but draco’s gaze was burning a hole into the side of your face, and you truly felt as if you had no choice but to pack it in early and go home, just to recuperate.

you’ve gotten better with it. you don’t have any plans of storming out any time soon, though his gaze still makes your face heat up and your stomach squirm.

“so, you’ve been ill, have you?” you begin. “i won’t lie, draco, you look pretty spritely to me.”

“i wouldn’t expect you to understand,” draco shoots back. “you should just mind your business.”

“i never asked you what was wrong. i was just saying - seems like you’re looking for a muggle excuse to get out of going to school.”

draco glares, though the expression has less effect now that he’s taken to never taking his eyes off you, no matter what his emotions towards you are in the moment. “i’ve told you not to call me that.”

“didn’t call you anything.”

“you called me a muggle.”

you narrow your eyes in faux confusion. “i said your excuse was muggle. don’t blow it out of proportion, mate.”

he throws his hands up, turning away for what feels like the first time since he laid eyes on you. “why are you here this time, y/n? what could you possibly want from us now?”

“i’ve never wanted anything from you.” you inspect the endless plates on the table. “although i will pinch a scotch egg, if you don’t mind.”

draco watches as you reach across the table, picking at the assortment of foods. you don’t break the eye contact, because that’s what he wants you to do. he wants you to show some sign of intimidation, some sign that he has wriggled beneath your nerves in the same way he manages with everyone else. you’re determined to show him you’re not afraid of the malfoys, have never been afraid of the malfoys, and that’s exactly why you’re here. you wanted something, and you were willing to go to the highest rank to get it.

“you know, if my father finds out about what you get up to, you’ll be sent to azkaban with a life sentence.”

you freeze, scotch egg halfway to your mouth. “so you’re bringing that up now, are you?”

“i’m just warning you.” draco shrugs, the sleeves of his black blazer stretching against the motion. “one day you’re going to walk in here, and he’s going to know. he’s going to see it in your eyes that you’re guilty.”

“he’s going to figure me out.” you scoff. “you really think the sun shines out of your father’s arse, don’t you? he’s not as smart as he likes everyone to think, draco. i’ve been running circles around that man for years now, and he’s none the wiser.”

“and what if i tell him?”

the room falls silent. your heartbeat rings in your ears. you hate talking about this with draco, because you never know whether or not to take his threats seriously.

he folds his arms over his chest. “you’re lucky i haven’t blabbed yet.”

“are you threatening me, malfoy?” you lean forward, lowering your voice to a purr. “why don’t you tell me the real reason you’ve taken two weeks out of school, hm? then we’ll both have stories to tattle to the ministry.”

draco pales. he glares at you for a moment longer before the kitchen door opens, and narcissa malfoy strolls inside once again. you straighten up, schooling your expression into one of immediate calm, like not a single thing is wrong. you pop the remaining scotch egg in your mouth and say, “i should get out of your hair now.”

narcissa simply scowls.

you give her a grin, nod at draco once before walking out the door, trying to ignore that blue-eyed gaze still burning into the back of your head.

----

it gets easier over time.

all of it does, really. the guilt becomes non-existent, and the act itself becomes second nature after a few good attempts. you’ve nearly been caught a handful of times, and you know if your actions were to come to light, you would be expelled from hogwarts in a heartbeat; not even dumbledore could show you mercy, no matter how much he likes you.

it’s easiest when the streets are full. muggles are so careless, clumped together with wallets jingling in their pockets, unprotected. they don’t even think about what might go wrong, don’t even think a wizard may be lurking amongst them, ready to snatch their belongings right from their person.

you don’t need it, of course. muggle money means nothing where you come from, but there’s some wizards and witches who would pay hundreds of galleons in trade for the things collected off muggles. it’s a black market kind of situation.

tonight, you are dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, wand stowed in your back pocket. you don’t need it; you’ve mastered the magic-free manoeuvres of sneaking things from people, and you use such skills to your advantage tonight. a man by the name of richard carpol has put in a request for a muggle passport - an irish one, preferably, but he’ll take anything you can get your hands on.

you search for what feels like hours before zoning in on the dark red booklet peaking out of a teenagers jacket pocket. their source of ID, you assume, and you feel no guilt whatsoever when you stroll past them and pluck the book free. you stuff it in your hoodie pocket before picking up your pace, ducking into a dark alleyway.

you flip it open - it’s a british passport, but richard will still pay. he’s not a picky customer, which makes your night ten times easier.

you make your way back to hogwarts, waving at people in hogsmeade before you disappear for the night. you sneak into the slytherin dormitory with no problems, stuffing the passport beneath your mattress. you wriggle beneath the sheets, ignoring pansy’s insistant questions about where you have been, if you’ve seen draco, how you managed to sneak past filch - she asks this every night, and you have never replied. you just fall asleep, another day successful.

----

“he’s back.”

like he’s some kind of god. you nearly roll your eyes, the whispers repeated over and over again throughout morning breakfast. all around you, the slytherin table is alive with anticipation, waiting for draco malfoy to stroll in through the double doors, head held high in that way it always is.

you knew draco was returning before anyone else did, as he told you the night before in a fit of faux rage at the sight of you in his bedroom, yet again. you had offered to leave, leaned casually against his mahogany wardrobe, and it could almost be considered hasty the speed at which he rushed for his door to close it, uttering a quiet, “no, you’re here now, so you might as well stay.”

but now he’s back in school, and you’re sick of him. you haven’t even seen his face once, but the whispers and the praise from your house mates is enough to set your teeth on edge. it reminds you that there is indeed a draco living outside of the malfoy manor, a draco you cannot tease and torment as easily.

“i saw him in the common room this morning putting his robes on. i think his parents got him new ones,” a fellow slytherin whispers. “and his hair has been cut a little shorter - he looks so grown up!”

you snicker into your porridge, smothering the noise to no avail. the slytherin girl singing draco’s praises shoots you a glare before noticing who you are; her glare folds in on itself, and she quickly retaliates by pretending she didn’t hear your snicker in the first place.

breakfast ticks by, and it’s only near the end does draco finally decide to grace the dining hall with his presence. the double doors open, and the chatter amongst the slytherins falls short almost immediately. you’re ashamed to admit that even you look up at the speed of light, catching one of the first glimpses of draco malfoy as he returns from what many people assumed was the dead.

his fangirl certainly wasn’t lying, you notice; his hair has been cut shorter, and he does look plenty grown up. he walks with a fresh confidence that makes you want to roll your eyes - it’s not like he needed a further confidence boost. his robes are clean, brushing the floor. his eyes are trained on the head table, though they linger there for only moments before snapping to where you are seated.

you raise a curious brow. he blushes, looks away, and takes his seat next to crabbe and goyle, both of whom clap him on the back like he’s just returned from war.

you ignore him the rest of breakfast, which is a rare action for you. you used to revel in tormenting him, coming face to face with him at every corner just to give another snide remark; it was a game back then, back when the two of you were younger and felt as if you could get away with it.

breakfast ends shortly thereafter, and you hurry to gather your things. swinging your bag over one shoulder, you duck your head down and escape into the crowded corridors, losing yourself amongst the sea of black clad students.

but you’re a fool to ever think you - of all people - could escape draco’s magnificent return to school. his cold fingers wrap around your wrist before you have a chance to turn the corridor to your next class, stopping you in your tracks. part of you wants to spin around and punch him, just floor him in front of everyone, show him that you’re not just some silly person showing up on his front doorstep every other night.

instead, you slowly turn and give him a smile, one of your big ones to let him know you don’t mean it, that you’re being hostile.

his face is set in stone, that frown so perfect and soft looking it makes you want to sob.

“where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asks, keeping his voice low because god forbid anyone catch him speaking to you.

“class,” you reply. “so kindly let go of me, malfoy.”

“not until you tell me where richard got another muggle passport to sell.”

you freeze, though you knew this would be coming eventually. richard is one of your best customers, but he’s not very bright; he’s never understood the concept of subtlety when it comes to the trading of muggle artefacts.

“he has a new one, does he?” you say. “good for him. his collection must be getting awfully big by now.”

draco scowls. “my father is starting to get very suspicious, y/n, and i don’t know how much longer i’ll be willing to cover for you.”

you pry your hand out of his grip, nearly stumbling from the momentum. “is that a threat?”

“it’s a warning,” he says. “i might not like you, but i don’t need you going down for something like this. people know we’re familiar with each other, and i don’t want you tarnishing my family name.”

you scoff. “your family name has been tarnished since you-know-who was in power.”

“shut up. don’t talk on things you don’t understand.”

“all i need to do is pick up a history book.”

draco scowls, those blues eyes ablaze. you’ve seen this look on him when he’s speaking to those gryffindors he hates so much, when a teacher takes someone else’s side over his own. you’ve seen this look on him plenty of times, but never aimed at you; for some reason, his expression is always so soft around the edges when trained on you.

“i’m trying to do you a favour,” draco mumbles. “because i’m serious when i say my father will snap you in half if he finds out you’re the one providing these artefacts to the dark market.”

“i’m not afraid of lucius,” you reply. “and i think you’re kind of forgetting the fact that your father actually likes me. at least a little bit.”

draco’s eyebrows fly up in amusement. “what’s given you that idea?”

“the fact that i’m still allowed in your house after all these years.” you grin, basking in the way draco’s own smile fades at the realisation you have indeed recognised this behaviour within his family. “yes, malfoy. you all try so hard to convince me i’m the scum of the earth, but the truth is, you appreciate my company. the truth is, you make me tea every time i visit. the truth is, you’re all a little fond of me, whether you want to admit it or not.”

his face pales even more, a feat you didn’t think possible until seeing it with your own two eyes. it’s a delicious win, a point for you in a competition you didn’t even realise you had entered.

“you’re delusional,” he mumbles. “you say you picked up a history book, then you must know how my family feel about your kind.”

“my kind?” you raise a brow, feigning ignorance just to annoy him. he hates outstretched conversations, especially with you. “are you talking about half-bloods, or pickpockets? oh! or people who can run circles around you without fear?”

you don’t give him a chance to reply, because quite frankly, you’re done with this conversation. you’re done with him for today. you prefer it when you’re in control of your daily draco interactions.

you turn on your heel and leave, rushing for your next class even as he calls your name. you can’t believe the nerve of him, approaching you like that, telling you to quit the job that’s gotten you off the streets, that’s helped you fund an education for yourself. these robes you’re wearing, the books you read in class, the wand that is an extension of your arm by now - all of it was funded by you, from your own pocket. just because the business is ruthless, not some posh, clean dealing that malfoy is used to, doesn’t mean it’s any less important.

you want to shove that explanation down his throat, just so he’ll finally look past his own privileged little bubble. you hate admitting it, but the truth is, draco wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t so blinded by his upbringing. he knows how to be nice - you’ve seen it before, experienced it before, though you never talk about those experiences with anyone. there have been a few times where draco has seen you walking past his house, soaked to the bone from the rain, and he’s let you in, warmed you up by the fire, placed a hot chocolate in your hand. he’ll insult you and call you stupid and claim he wants you out of his house as soon as possible, but he was still the man who made the move to get you out of the rain.

your feelings for draco are a jenga tower. built up to full form, but slowly, pieces get chipped away until the entire thing is falling, and you have to rebuild it and try again.

you don’t know why you keep rebuilding it after so many disasters, but as he calls your name at your retreating back, you can feel yourself already putting those blocks back together.

----

charms class really is a pain.

flitwick is nice enough. he’s patient, which is good, and very much needed when it comes to your skills in the classroom. you’re an intelligent person, always studying because you want to be the best. you love seeing the look on draco’s face when he looks over and sees you’ve got a higher grade than him. it gives you such a thrill.

but charms is your downfall, because nothing makes any sense. flitwick explains the spell, and the hand movements, and he leaves you to your own devices, and you always somehow end up messing everything up.

today, all you’re doing is tossing a pillow to the other side of the room. it’s a simple spell, a simple gesture, and yet you still manage to smash a window in the process. flitwick merely sighs, explains the charm again, and gets you to repeat the process until you’ve got it right.

it takes a while. you don’t like it when things take a while.

by the half hour mark, sweat is running down your face, and your teeth have been gritted for so long it’s starting to hurt. you throw your wand down on the table, rake your hands through your hair and say, “i’m taking a break.”

“please do,” flitwick grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head where a vase smashed into his skull, thanks to your handiwork.

you slump down on one of the pillows you have failed to charm and run a hand along your brow. it’s actually disgusting how much energy gets taken out of you from doing such a simple thing. it’s also very confusing, considering you’re able to master the most difficult spells in defence against the dark arts without so much as a second thought. why tossing a pillow to the other side of the room is getting to you is both a joke and a mystery.

as you pull yourself together, savouring your moment of rest, someone slumps down next to you. you glance over, an eyebrow raised at bailey o’boyle, a boy you’ve done business with a few times in the past. he was only dabbling in the black market at the time, too young to understand what it was actually all about, but you weren’t going to be the one to ward him off, not when he had a good few galleons with your name on it.

he looks at you now with a smile, big and dopey, just as it always is.

“can i help you?” you ask.

“yes.”

you wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. he just keeps staring at you.

you grit your teeth. “with what?”

“i need an electric scooter.”

you raise a brow. already the word ‘electric’ has got your attention, because that’s not something the wizard world is very familiar with. what bailey is doing right now is forming a business deal. you’re not usually a fan of bargaining in the middle of class, but since you have nothing better to do. . .

you turn, ducking your head and lowering your voice. “what the fuck do you need an electric scooter for?”

“to sell,” he replies. “i’ve got a man who collects them. he’s willing to pay big money, y/n. big, big money.”

you like the sound of that.

“i’m a pickpocket, you know,” you say. “it’s not going to be easy pickpocketing an entire scooter from a muggle.”

bailey shrugs. “i said i’d see what you could do. but if you’re not up to it. . .”

your eye twitches; you hate that phrase. realistically, you know this is far beyond your expertise. you steal wallets, and passports, and house keys, tiny things you can sneak away without detection. trying to get something like an electric scooter from a muggle without being caught is close enough to impossible that even the lure of galleons isn’t enough to convince you to do it.

still, of course you’re going to think about it. there are many different side streets in muggle london that you could go down, and if you do it at night, the shadows could be used to your advantage. nobody would even bat an eye if you wore-

draco grabs your wrist and pulls you from the floor.

you yelp, stumbling into his chest. he lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you’re more surprised at his strength than you are at his actions.

bailey’s eyes widen. he stutters, trying to feign innocence, but neither you nor draco are interested in him any more. you whirl on malfoy, shoving him away.

“what the hell?”

“what the hell, is right.” he grabs your arm. “come with me.”

you struggle against his grip, but truth to be told, you’re not really putting up much of a fight. you’re still in shock at how easily he was able to lift you, at the feel of his fingers around your upper arm.

he drags you from the classroom. flitwick being flitwick doesn’t even bat an eye; he’s probably relieved that’s two more students he doesn’t need to worry about.

in the hallway, draco finally lets go of you. you jerk away so fast your back hits against the wall. draco raises a brow, but he still looks furious. his nostrils are flared, his face is pale, and god, he keeps clenching his fists like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat.

god help you, you kind of want him to. just to know what it feels like.

“again,” you say. “what the hell?”

“i knew you were stupid, y/n, but that’s bad even for you.”

“excuse me?”

“you do realise blaise was listening to every word you and bailey were saying in there?” he shakes his head, jaw clenched. “i was trying to talk over you, but your loud mouth is quite difficult to ignore.”

you blink. firstly, wow. bargaining in class really isn’t a good idea, and you really should have known better.

but also, wow, draco actually tried helping you out.

you swallow and fold your arms over your chest. “i had it under control. blaise isn’t gonna do shit.”

draco laughs. “blaise’s dad is in the ministry, idiot.”

“stop calling me that. i’m smarter than you!”

“do you understand what i’m telling you, y/n? if blaise says a word about what he heard to his dad, that’s you done. there’s no getting out of that.”

a chill runs down your spine. draco glimpses the movement, and you swear his features soften slightly.

“i just can’t believe you were so careless.”

“why do you even care?” your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. you kind of hope draco doesn’t hear it, but his eyebrows shoot up, and his cheeks gain a tiny red tint that lets you know he doesn’t really know the answer to that question.

you swallow, looking up to meet his eyes. “why do you care, draco?”

“because.” his throat bobs. there is a moment of hesitation where you think he’s going to tell the truth. maybe he’s going to shock the world and just tell the god damn truth, but then he clears his throat, pulls his shoulders back and says, “i’ve already told you, y/n; if you go down, you’ll tarnish my family name. i can’t have that.”

your insides wilt like his words are acid being poured down your throat. you laugh a little too loudly, a bark more than anything close to amusement. it’s so vicious, so filled with hatred that draco actually flinches away. in that moment, you want to give him a real reason to flinch, a real reason to be afraid.

but you don’t, because he’s the boy who pulled you out of the rain.

instead, you shake your head and say, “tell flitwick i’m ill. and don’t bother talking to me ever again. let me handle my own business, thanks.” and without another word, you rush down the hallway to the dorm rooms, refusing to look back at him. this time, he doesn’t call your name, doesn’t chase after you in that hopelessly stupid way you want him to. of course he wouldn’t.

you throw your robes off the minute you burst through the doors of your dorm. it’s empty besides a fellow slytherin’s cat laying on the bed. the black and white feline lifts its head at the sound of you, and you ignore it’s confused little mews as you scramble into your own bed, pull the privacy curtain over and bury your head in your pillow.

you hate him. you really, really hate him, and that’s not even an exaggeration. he’s the worst person you’ve ever met. he’s this tormented little shit who thinks he has every right to throw his anger at everyone else, just because he isn’t tough enough to stand up to mummy and daddy. he’s so desperate to stay in line with everything his parents say, and it’s ridiculous. it’s embarrassing. it’s a cowards move.

there are so many things you wished you said to him before storming off, but there’s always that moment of hesitation when it comes to anything you want to say to draco. you either have to check it’s not too nice, and even when it’s mean, you have to check it’s not going to actually upset him, because you don’t want to do that either. you don’t know why. you should spit in his face for the shit he puts you through, the confusion he makes you feel. and he doesn’t even care. he just carries on being a little prick, like nothing is wrong in the world.

but surprise, surprise, draco. not everyone can live a lavish life, worry free.

---

you manage to ignore draco for the rest of the day. it’s easily done, considering draco doesn’t like to make a big deal out of the fact that you two actually have history; he likes to pretend he associates only with people of the purest blood, the most talented wizards, ones that come from the old families.

but he can’t keep his eyes off you.

he knows he’s hit a nerve. the way his eyes follow every movement you make, the way his jaw ticks when you don’t even give him the time of day - he’s not a stupid boy, as much as you like to tell him he is. he can see when he’s upset you.

classes drag in the rest of the day, and it’s a massive relief when you’re finally released from the confines of lessons, free to do whatever you want. after stealing a bit of food from the dining hall, you head up to the slytherin dormitory; you like it best when it’s empty, when you can just sit with your own thoughts for a while. you need it today, because today you actually let yourself be a normal teenager, and you hate it. you hate the feeling of hormones and overreactions, but sometimes it’s hard to help it. sometimes you need to let yourself feel emotional.

alone in the dorms, you reach under your bed and pull out your handy box of trinkets. most of the contents are just things you’ve stolen that never found a home - a penny from a london sidewalk, an old napkin with a mystery person’s phone number scribbled on it, a black and white photo of a couple standing in front of the ocean. however, tucked away amongst those simple, boring things is a green emerald - one you stole from the malfoy manor a few years ago.

you got it from draco’s room, because you weren’t meant to be in there, and you wanted to let him know that you had, in fact, been in there. the emerald was stitched into the collar of one of his shirts, all expensive looking and wasted. you nearly scoffed at the sight of it - when would draco ever get to wear something so glamorous anyway? plus, the emerald looked far too heavy to be confined to a shirts collar; it would be very uncomfortable, you assumed.

that’s why you grabbed a knife and cut the stitching to shreds, plucking the emerald from it to claim as your own. you tossed the shredded shirt back into draco’s wardrobe, tucked the emerald into your pocket and then walked out, content with the knowledge that draco would be yelling at you in due time once he noticed his missing jewel.

but the yelling never came.

draco knew you had stolen it. again, he isn’t stupid. his shirt was shredded, and the jewel was missing, and it was obvious who had done it - the known pickpocket who was strolling through his house every other night.

he just never said anything, like he wanted you to keep it, like he didn’t mind it was in your hands now.

you stare at it, legs crossed beneath you. you’ve always prided yourself on how little you care for expensive things - you don’t complain that you haven’t got much, that you grew up poor, never able to afford the grand things draco has. but you still handle this emerald with so much care, flipping it round in your fingers, looking at every curve and delicate groove in it’s cut.

the dormitory door opens. you trust it’s just someone who’s eaten too much and wants an early night, so you don’t panic or falter. you listen to their footsteps patter across the room, the thump of their robes hitting the floor, followed closely by their shoes. you listen to their privacy curtain screeching open, their sigh of annoyance at something you can’t see-

and then draco pops his head round your privacy curtain.

you yelp, fumbling with the emerald. it slips from your fingers, however, and crashes to the floor at draco’s bare feet. he stares at it as you curse, an eyebrow raising, and you don’t even try and hide it. you just let him stare, arms folded over your chest, annoyance brewing in your stomach just at the sight of him.

finally, he slowly looks up. “mine, i take it?”

“good guess, rich boy. can i have it back?”

he picks it up and tosses it into your lap. you’re pleasantly surprised at his cooperation, but still keep that frown on your face.

“what do you want?” you ask, violently stuffing all your belongings back into the cardboard box.

“you weren’t at dinner,” draco replies. “i wanted to make sure you weren’t causing any more trouble.”

you scoff. “oh, trouble, yes. tarnishing the malfoy name. the end goal for us all.”

draco stares at you, lips pursed. his gaze is always so warm, a physical thing that makes your skin crawl. “that comment bothered you, did it?”

“nothing you say bothers me, draco. it just baffles me how you can be so dense sometimes.”

“ouch. that one hurt.”

you roll your eyes. “why are you here? i have nothing to say to you.”

“you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted to make sure you’re alive.”

“not like you care, though, is it?”

draco’s nostrils flare. his throat bobs, eyes tracing the length of your throat like he’s a hungry vampire. his lower lip slips between his teeth, the expression startling you. he looks like he’s trying to reel himself back, like some unwanted emotion is fighting for dominance in his brain.

“you’re really stubborn, aren’t you?” he asks after a moment.

“you think?”

“i still don’t know what i did to piss you off so much.”

you bark out a laugh. “no, of course you don’t. god forbid a malfoy is self-aware for once.”

he groans. “can you not just make things simple? why do we have to go around in circles like this? it’s a waste of time!”

“is that meant to be an apology?”

“how can i apologise when i don’t even know what i did?” he’s starting to sound desperate, like this conversation is taking the life from him.

you lean back, pulling the box into your lap protectively. in truth, you don’t even know how to word why you’re so upset - it makes sense in your head, but articulating it to someone else is just going to make you sound stupid, maybe even a little delusional. you should know draco by now, people will say. you should know what he’s like, that he cares for no one besides himself. getting upset over him showing his true colours is stupid, a waste of time and energy.

but you look into his blue eyes right now, wanting nothing more than for him to just understand. understand what, you don’t even want to admit, not to yourself or anyone else.

“you hurt my feelings,” you mumble.

draco inhales sharply. “i didn’t think i could do that. i never thought you’d let me.”

“well, you did. congratulations.”

“jesus, y/n, it’s not like i wanted to. what did i even say?”

you stare at him. he stares back. the ball will drop eventually, you know, because draco is smart, smarter than you’ve ever given him credit for. he examines your expression, and you watch the moment his eyebrows start to relax in realisation, the frown form on his face. it makes anxiety coil in the pit of your stomach, because maybe this is just a little too vulnerable. maybe letting draco figure this out on his own was a bad idea.

but it’s too late now. he draws back slowly, hands curled around the privacy curtain until the fabric is creasing and knotted in his fingers. “wait. . .”

“go, draco,” you demand. “i have shit to do. business to take care of.”

“y/n-”

“go, draco!”

he stares at you a moment longer before running a hand through his hair and walking out the room. you wait till the door is closed, and then you wait till his footsteps can no longer be heard, and then you throw the box of trinkets to the ground, watching the emerald slip across the wooden floor.

---

the streets of london always look a little different when you’re angry. a little more violent. a little more real.

muggle london in itself has always felt like a very hostile place to you, but when you’re angry, things get clearer. you notice the vomit stain on the curb, the neglected baby pram in the bush, the beer bottles smashed beneath window sills. it becomes a different place - it just depends on how you’re feeling.

tonight, you are angry, and everything around you is angry, too.

you just want a set of car keys, not the actual car. muggle car keys sell at a good price, depending on who you’re dealing with. nobody has requested them, and usually you don’t go out unless asked to do so by a client, but tonight, you just want to be out. you want to be away from the wizarding world. you want to cause havoc with your fingers in the best way you know how.

it’s busy. it always is. you can guarantee that almost everyone around you has car keys in their pocket - that’s why global warming is so bad. some of them even wear them around their neck, dangling from multicoloured chains with little souvenirs banging against their chests. those would be so easy to just rip off and run away, but you’ve decided to be subtle, which means your eyes are trained on the bulges in people’s coat pockets. so many of them, so careless.

a man in a tracksuit seems like the best option. you follow him for ten minutes, keeping your head down, before he finally breaks away from his group of drunken friends. he laughs to himself, stumbling just the perfect amount - he’s drunk, but not drunk enough to be falling over himself, which makes slipping your hand into his pocket a pretty easy deal.

you go for the kill, quickening your pace, dipping your hand into his pocket-

he grabs your wrist, and before you even have a chance to blink, you’re on the ground.

a gasp is ripped from your throat at both the shock and the pain that spears up your spine. the guy is yelling, stumbling back, and holy shit, if he doesn’t shut up right now, the whole of london is going to be on you.

gathering as much strength as you can, you roll onto your side and push yourself to your knees. “hey man, calm down. sorry. i thought you were my friend.”

“did you just try and rob me?” he yells.

“no! no, of course-”

“you psycho bitch!” he lunges for you, all drunken vowels and grabby hands. you have no idea what to make of his intentions, you just know you’ve fucked up, and you need to get out of here.

his hands slam into your shoulders, knocking you on your ass. a cry escapes you, but not from the pain. a tiny snap sounds from your back pocket, and you know without having to look that your wand has just broken in half - yet again. dumbledore is going to start getting very suspicious.

“son of a bitch,” you growl, before raising your hands. “listen, hey. i’m sorry. i’ve said that already. you need to calm down before-”

“before what?” he howls. “you kill me? are you threatening me?”

your eyes widen. “no! would you just-”

the man opens his mouth to say something else, but his words are sucked back in when a hand wraps around his arm and yanks him back. you wince at the sound of his head cracking against the tarmac, but you don’t get a chance to comment before draco is kneeling beside you, one hand cradling your head, the other resting on your knee. his touch alone is enough to spread warmth through your previously frozen limbs, and you hate that. you hate it so much.

you tug your knee from his grip. “what the hell are you doing here?”

“are you bleeding?” he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. when he pulls away, his fingertip glows with a red liquid.

“oh. i guess i am.”

“christ, y/n. do you ever just...” he closes his eyes, taking a moment to redirect his anger. it’s an amusing sight, and you almost smile until you remember you’re mad at him. forever mad at him.

you jerk your head out of his grip, too. “i’m fine. stop worrying.”

“clearly i have to, or else you’re going to get yourself killed.” he glances over his shoulder, where the drunken man is struggling to sit up, still slurring protestations. “by a muggle.”

“he wouldn’t have killed me,” you grumble. “although my wand is broke, so maybe he would have.”

draco’s eyes widen. you wave him off before he has a chance to chastise you again - in truth, you just want to get out of here, car keys be damned. hastily, you push yourself to your feet, wobbling only slightly, but draco must see this tiny action as a full-on collapse risk, as he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close, grumbling curses under his breath. you’re such a pain in the arse, apparently, and god, he wishes he wasn’t stuck with you all the time, and he’s so baffled by the fact you’re still alive, it’s probably all thanks to him, blah, blah, blah.

you listen to him rant the entire way back to malfoy manor. you don’t argue his choice of location, because you can see narcissa standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise, and you already know she’s got a cup of tea waiting for you in the sitting room. you almost smile, but that would ruin the effect.

she rushes out to meet you and draco halfway, immediately grabbing your face and tilting your head back and forth. you can taste blood on your teeth.

“what happened?” she breathes, but doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “draco, take them into the lounge.”

“oh, the lounge,” you coo. “you are spoiling me!”

“be quiet,” draco hisses, doing as his mother says. he tosses you unceremoniously onto the plush sofa, and you have to ignore the inappropriate thrill that shoots up your body.

narcissa appears not ten seconds later, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. you give her a grin, which she rolls her eyes at, even as she sits beside you and brushes your hair away from your face. you take a sip of the tea, smile in thanks, and then lean your head back.

“sorry about this.”

narcissa sighs. her breath tickles your cheek, smelling oddly of incense. “i don’t know what we’re going to do with you, y/n.”

“put me down.” you make a stabbing gesture into your arm and mouth lethal injection at draco. he purses his lips, clearly not taking the joke in stride. “i didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

“you’re always worrying us,” draco hisses, which earns him a sharp look from narcissa. he meets his mothers eyes and his shoulders deflate. he runs his hands down his face. “you’re just . . . always doing something.”

“i know,” you mumble. “sorry.”

“draco, don’t stress them out,” says narcissa, which surprises you; you’ve always known narcissa has a secret soft spot for you, but she’s always tried her hardest to keep it just that - a secret. yet here she is, combing your hair back, giving you a cup of tea, telling her son to treat you nicely. it’s like you’ve entered a different world. “i’m gonna go and make some calls. keep them comfortable, okay?”

draco nods, lips still pursed, forever displeased. you used to laugh at that expression on his face, but now it just makes you feel bad.

narcissa leaves the room, and then it’s just you and draco. you watch as he watches you, eyes never wavering, shoulders never relaxing. he’s got his arms folded over his chest like he’s keeping guard.

“i meant it, you know,” you say. “i didn’t mean to worry you. i thought it would be an easy job.”

“who are you doing business with now? bailey again?”

“no.” you look down, surprisingly shameful. “it was just for myself. i needed out of the castle, and. . .” you shrug. “you know me. i can’t do anything easy.”

he scoffs. “yeah, i know.”

“so i’m sorry.”

draco closes his eyes and rubs his temples. the rings on his fingers glisten beneath the fancy lights. his knuckles pop, the veins in his arms protruding. “please stop apologising.”

you blink. “alright.”

“you act like i don’t understand why you’re doing all this, but i do.” he looks at you, hands dropping to his sides. “just because i don’t have to do it myself, doesn’t mean i don’t understand. why else do you think i haven’t stopped you?”

your breath catches. you raise a brow, tilting your head cruelly. “you wouldn’t have been able to stop me. you think i’d listen to you?”

“yeah. i think you would.”

you reel back, jaw dropping open. “excuse-”

“you always act like you hate me, but you forget you’ve been coming to my house for years. you forget i’ve known you since we were eleven. you forget that i don’t just put up with anyone. i’ve had time to figure you out, y/n, no matter how much you like to pretend i haven’t.” he folds his arms and leans against the door. his hair is rumpled, along with his shirt and jeans. so casual, so unlike himself. “but earlier on, in the dorms. . . you surprised me with that one.”

your stomach curls. oh, good god, he’s bringing that up now. you’re sat here with a busted chin and a potential criminal charge, and he’s bringing this up. you could headbutt him.

despite your glare, he continues. “i knew you didn’t hate me, but i never thought. . . i never thought you liked me, you know? especially not-”

“don’t say it.”

his lips twist. “i have to.”

“no you don’t.”

“do you love me?”

your heart falls into the pit of your stomach, which is answer enough for you. love is such a strong word, and you could easily say no, that what you feel for draco is nothing more than a little crush. he’s got the nice blue eyes, and the money, and the perfect hair. he’s got a smile that lights up rooms. it’s a crush. you fancy him, and that’s all there is to it.

but love sounds pretty accurate. more accurate, actually.

you swallow. draco watches the bob of your throat, and you watch his. above your head, the massive clock ticks, ticks, ticks.

slowly, he reaches forward and swipes his thumb over your chin. it stings just a little, but you’ve felt worse pain, so you let him do it without jerking away.

“cat got your tongue?” he whispers.

you shiver. “i don’t. . . i don’t know what you want me to say.”

“it’s not about what i want. i was asking a simple question. just give me the truth.”

“you want the truth?”

he inhales, hesitates, and then nods.

“yeah, draco,” you whisper. “i think i love you.”

slowly, draco draws away. his eyes never leave your own, that frosty blue colour reminding you of the winter sky, or a cold december morning. you remember all those christmas’s at hogwarts when draco would stay at the castle, waking him up because you thought it would annoy him to have your face be the first thing he sees. you always commented on the dreary smile that played on his lips when you did that, and he would always say, “i thought you were someone else.”

but that dreary smile is returning, pulling across his face, and it doesn’t falter. right now, there is no mistake. his eyes are on you, and he knows it is you, the person who has apparently made his life a living hell for so many years. you’re the ache in his spine, the one he can’t wait to get rid of.

but you’re also the one he rescued from the rain.

you’re the one who cursed hermione granger when she punched him in the nose.

you’re the one who’s just confessed your love to him.

shit.

“don’t look at me like that,” you say, voice hoarse. “don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

“i didn’t know,” he says immediately, like he’s desperate for you to know he was clueless. “did you know?”

“kind of. i wanted to ignore it-”

draco shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. “no, no. did you know that i love you, too?”

you open your mouth, but no words come out. your brain just short circuits, taking a second to catch on to what he’s said. that dreary smile is still playing at his lips, and you’re waiting for the moment it turns into a sneer, a mocking little smirk.

it doesn’t.

“oh right,” you mumble. “no. i had no idea.” you pause. “are you taking the piss out of me?”

he laughs, a rare and pleasant sound. he approaches you, kneels at your side on the sofa and cups your head in his hands. you melt into him, even though every instinct in your body is telling you to pull away, to run away, because this is nothing more than false hope. he’s playing a trick on you. you’ve annoyed him to breaking point, and now he’s found the perfect chance for revenge.

but his hands are so warm, and nice, and your cheek dips into his palm so easily, like it belongs there.

“you’ve always been kind of not smart in my eyes,” he says.

your eyes widen. “hey!”

“kidding. i’m kidding.” he chuckles, running his thumb along your lower lip. “but you’re not doing your intelligence any justice right now. i thought i was making my feelings pretty clear.”

you glare; he knows full well he hasn’t made his feelings clear. neither of you have. you’ve spent the past seven years pretending to hate each other.

he grins. “okay, maybe i didn’t make it so easy. but you didn’t make it easy for me, either.”

“i still don’t believe you.”

he raises a brow. “why?”

you shrug. “it just doesn’t seem possible that someone like you could fall in love with someone like me.”

his eyes soften. “wow. maybe you are not very smart.”

before you have a chance to protest, he kisses you. just like that, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, or maybe like it’s an action he’s been waiting to do for years, and now he’s finally got the chance. that’s what it’s like for you, this coil unravelling in your gut after years and years and years of ignoring it’s existence.

you run your hands through his hair, tugging on those pesky strands at the back that always stick up because he refuses to wear anything other than collared shirts. he growls into your mouth, pulling you closer, closer, closer, until your legs are tangled with his, and his fingers are tracing a line down the centre of your throat. he stops at the hollow, just to feel the bob of your throat as nerves spiral through you. he grins against your mouth, pulling away to see the shock in your eyes.

he’s so proud of himself. he’s made you a mess.

you smile awkwardly, trying to regain some amount of composure. he watches you, heavy lidded, one hand still clutching your knee as the other curls around your throat, just where your neck and shoulders meet. the way he stares at you, it’s like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

“so,” you begin. “you’re worry wasn’t actually just for your family name, was it?”

draco sighs, plonking his forehead against your own. “no, y/n, it wasn’t. my worry was losing you. which i very nearly did tonight.”

“don’t be so dramatic. i wouldn’t have died.”

“you could have.”

“but i wouldn’t have, because that guy was drunk, and a muggle, and-”

“are you two arguing again?”

you and draco jump apart as narcissa storms into the lounge, wand clutched to her chest. her narrowed eyes are firm on draco.

“i told you to keep them comfortable!” she exclaims. “can you not put your differences aside for ten minutes?”

you grin, teasingly running a finger along draco’s spine. “yeah draco. listen to mummy.”

he growls, but turns to narcissa and says, “sorry, mother. you know how y/n gets.”

“yes, i know,” narcissa mumbles. “but they’re injured. now, let me take this phone call, and then we’ll set up the guest bedroom. can i leave you alone for ten more minutes?”

“yes,” you and draco both reply immediately. narcissa hums, and walks out.

draco immediately spins, grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, slamming his lips to yours. you laugh against his mouth, melting into the embrace for only a second before pulling away and saying, “she’s trusting us to behave for ten more minutes, draco. this isn’t behaving.”

“oh, fuck that,” he scoffs. “come here.”

you let him pull you closer, closer than you have ever been with him before, because you’ve always been so convinced he never wanted you more than a few feet away from him. suddenly, everything draco has ever said to you is reconstructed in your mind, every action, every little look.

you wonder if he’s doing the same.

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