Hi everyone! I'm ghostlygrotesquerie, or you can call me Ghost or Ghostly!! Here's a masterlist of all the current fics and headcanons I have on here; I do have a little more on AO3 (whimsnwishes)!
Witch Hat Atelier
Qifrey 💙
I Will, See Your Body Bare, Qifrey x Brimhat!Reader (HC), Words of Caress On Their Lips, Blurs the Darkness Like a Chandelier
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Qifrey seeks you out after an argument, hoping to make amends.
wc: 1.4k
cw: Manga Spoilers kind of (if you know about it then you will notice it, if you don't then like,, caution ig idk), qifrey is a little liar, angst, hurt/comfort, mostly hurt, this was supposed to go in a Completely Different direction but i got very distracted and now its sad!
Qifrey hates water. He hates the way rain patters against the roof, sending hollow knocks through the atelier that he and Olruggio built up brick by brick to house them, to home them. He hates the way the cold a storm brings with it seeps through the shutters, crawling up the walls and onto the furniture, reaching where he sits staring at the unlit hearth in a vacant stare. He hates the suffocating feeling that grips at his chest, tight, longing for comfort that he feels unable to ask for—no, he has no right to seek it out, seeing as he's the one who made you cry.
That's the type of water he hates most; The salty and warm blobs of water that first welled up in your pretty eyes after he raised his voice. He barely noticed that you were crying until he'd finally turned back to face you, searing the image of fat tears dripping down your cheeks, staining the skin with trails of moisture that served as pathways for fresh tears to follow into his frazzled mind.
Qifrey didn't mean to shout, it was a rare slip of composure, a panicked defense mechanism that raked its way up his throat in a final act of self preservation, which is ironic considering that's what you'd been squabbling about in the first place.
You'd come to him after his most recent stunt in pursuing the Brimmed Caps. Olly had given him an earful previously, but you came to him with knitted brows and bitten lips, needing to understand why he so quickly discards all reason in pursuit of his revenge. Needing him to understand how worried you were—how worried you are for him. Whenever these topics arise, Qifrey finds it difficult to balance how much to lean into your assistance and comfort with how much he needs to close away from you, lest his roots find a place to start digging.
A sigh rises in his chest before he pushes himself up from the floor. It's obvious in hindsight. Running headfirst into dangerous scenarios, getting hurt, and all for the goal of saving himself. He supposes he's silly, really, thinking about his own juxtaposition as he approaches the bedroom door. What good partner wouldn't be worried when their beloved seemingly doesn't care for what could befall them?
The knock of his knuckle against the wooden door is soft, he doesn't want to startle you. It's late, after all. Everyone should be asleep. Qifrey briefly wonders whether opening the door is selfish, but before the thought can even settle in his mind, he's clearing his throat to the sight of your back. You don't turn around.
A soft click sounds from behind his figure when the door closes, but the witch doesn't move from his place.
“Love,” he rasps, suddenly nervous. “You're working at this hour?” The questions skirts around the edge of the bigger topic. He hopes you'll reply, turn around and take the bait so that he can continue to avoid accountability. Keeping the guilt of raising his voice at you close to his heart with no words of forgiveness uttered would surely keep him anxious for life. Perhaps it would grant a break from the constant hammering of rain, because scaring you feels much more terrifying.
Your pen pauses. The soft ball of light next to your haunched over body illuminates the space around the desk, warming the area with a soft and inviting orange glow. He wants to come closer. He can't. The silence he's greeted with makes his fingers itch and they pick at each other, his nails catching on and pushing his cuticles back into his skin.
“Listen,” he mumbles, eyes downcast. “We don't have to discuss the details, but I need you to know that I am sorry for how I acted. Stay angry with me for as long as you need to, my feelings for you will never change.”
“You're such a hypocrite, Qifrey.” Your voice comes out wobbly. Perhaps you hadn't managed to stop crying in the few hours that had passed.
“I know…”
Putting your pen down, you finally turn to face him with puffy eyes. His soft gaze settles on your form as you shift on the wooden chair. Your figure is closed in, trying to shield yourself from any more hurt and he feels his heart crack at the sight. Tears still cling to your lashes, glinting in the lamps glow with every blink and the man thinks he's never seen anything more beautiful yet full of sorrow. He thinks you're pretty when you cry, but not for this reason, he can't stand it when you're hurting.
Wordlessly, he walks over to you with tentative steps, before taking a knee right in front of you.
“Please, my sweet, don't cry.” One gentle hand rises to your face. His index finger curls, using a knuckle to carefully wipe the tears threatening to drip down from under your eyes before he cups your cheek. His thumb strokes over your skin, while his other hand rests on your knee. Your partner never breaks eye contact, the habit was drilled into him throughout his years as an apprentice and now as an adult he takes great care to shift around and make sure he can always see what's swimming in the hues of your irises.
“Qifrey—”
“I know,” he repeats, voice so soft that he wonders if the words even exited from his mind. His hand drops to your shoulder, the other mirroring the positioning before he runs his palms down your arms, letting his fingers trail over the length of them until his grip envelopes your own. With a tender grasp, he brings your hands up to his lips. A gentle kiss is placed across your knuckles before he breathes out again and bows his head to you. “I'm sorry.”
He looks like he's begging, praying for your forgiveness on his knees in front of your form as he holds the backs of your fingers to his forehead. Inhaling through his nose, his grip tightens almost imperceptively before he speaks again, “I never meant to shout at you, you didn't deserve such a reaction.”
“I was… overwhelmed, but that is no excuse. It will never happen again, my love, I promise.” He doesn't move, just keeps his forehead pressed against your fingers until they move in his grip.
Wiggling your fingers free, you brush your fingers through his fluffy hair, it's always so soft. Qifrey looks up then, with an expression riddled with stress. Guilt pulls his eyebrows together, curving the inner corners upwards. He still keeps your other hand hostage for now, gripping it under his chin while his glossy, baby blue eye watches your expressions. For a man so anxious, he exercises an impressive amount of patience.
“I know you didn't mean to yell,” You whisper, nibbling on your lower lip in contemplation, “I just—your lack of care for yourself scares me…”
Qifrey's stomach churns at your words. He knows, you'd said this earlier but he was so caught up in his own thirst that he couldn't hear it. Perhaps he didn't want to hear it. Perhaps he's reckless because he knows it scares people.
“If something happened to you, what would that mean for the girls? They'd be devastated; What about Olly? What about me?” The words tumble from your lips in desperation as if you're pleading for him to hear you, to reach out and grab onto the words and forever hold them close to his heart.
He can't. That would be too kind, too comforting. He briefly considers telling you the truth, confessing that he can't completely accept how your worry and love has slipped under his skin in a warmth akin to one felt only on a fresh summer evening that leaves you feeling completely at peace. He wishes so badly to agree. Tears well up in his lash line from the turmoil and he has to swallow down a scoff. The more he considers being honest, the worse the pain in his head becomes, so he decides to lie.
“I'll be more careful,” he nods, straightening his posture, “no more acting without thinking. I'll come to you beforehand, Olly as well.”
The headache lessens.
“You promise?” Cupping his cheeks, you brush his tears away this time, trading roles.
Blurs the Darkness Like a Chandelier -- Qifrey x Reader
Qifrey x (Gender-neutral!)Reader
CW: Semi-NSFW (lime)
A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one!! Idea credit goes to Moonarch_moo on AO3! 💙
“Now girls, do you remember what I told you earlier?” You ask the four apprentices. They nod and Coco recites your previous instructions: “‘Pair up and meet back at The Starry Sword in one hour!’” You nod and tuck a strand of hair behind the girl’s ear. “Good! Now go spend your allowance!”
The girls immediately rush off and you chuckle at their haste. You feel a tickling on your neck and reach up a finger to ruffle the brushbuddy’s fur. “How many snacks do you think Richeh’ll buy, Puffpuff?” You muse, earning a chittering squeak in response.
“Her record is twelve, though that was with a lower allowance,” Qifrey interjects as he rejoins you. He gently pets Puffpuff, the brushbuddy nuzzling into the witch’s hand. “Twelve?” You question.
“Richeh may or may not have…bargained with a butcher.”
“Haggled, you mean.”
You grin as Qifrey bites back a sigh. You shake your head with a chuckle and add, “Her and Olruggio’s stubborn streak with food is truly something else.” He purses his lips but his eyes twinkle with amusement. “Speaking of Olly,” you say, “make sure I don’t forget the willowgrape again! He nearly singed my robes last time…” You reminisce with a slight scowl but Qifrey’s eyebrow raise snaps you out of it. He raises the bag in his left hand and explains, “I went ahead and purchased supplies for the next few meals while you were with the girls.” He takes a step forward and reaches for your hand; your fingers curl around his without a second thought. “We have the next hour for ourselves,” he continues. With a squeeze of your hand, you immediately lead him into the hubbub of the market.
~~~~~
The two of you end up passing multiple vendors, all selling wonderfully different wares; some sell unique paintings, some sell small household contraptions, and some sell jewelry. You wander towards the latter and glance at the various necklaces and pendants for sale. They’re so beautiful, but they’re so expensive... You had given most of your pocket change to the girls as a reward for their hard work the previous week. You reach a hand out to take a closer look at one pendant – its design is more intricate than most, as it features a spiraling filigree surrounding a dazzling gem; webbing across the gem are small curves and swirls of silver. It’s breathtaking, but before you can show Qifrey, you feel a tug at your robe from behind.
Behind you stands Tartah, leaning forward with his hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath. “Tartah! Where’d you come from in such a hurry?” You immediately kneel to look him in the eye, patting his back gently and straightening his tunic. The boy gulps a deep inhale of air and finally explains his haste. “I apologize, Mr. Qifrey and Mx. Y/N, but I needed help and saw you two over here.”
“What do you need help with?” Qifrey approaches as well, his eye sharp and posture straight. Tartah sees your tense expressions and waves his hands, hastily adding, “No no, it’s nothing bad! I just…” He trails off, looking at his boots and fiddling with his fingers. Your heart unclenches at the sight, and you fight a smile – Qifrey shares the same nervous habit. “Go ahead, Tartah,” you encourage.
The boy takes a breath and his words rush out in one long stream: “I-wanted-to-buy-a-gift-for-Coco-but-I-don’t-know-what-I-should-get-for-her-and-I-wanted-to-ask-if-you-two-could-help-me-pick.”
You and Qifrey stare at Tartah for a moment, then you two tilt your head and coo at the boy. “That’s very sweet of you, Tartah,” Qifrey says, clasping his hands together. Tartah’s cheeks flush and he goes to refute the comment but you chuckle, getting his attention. “I think that’s a wonderful thing to do, Tartah. Do you have any ideas so far?”
He nods and whispers, “I…saw a hair clip that matches her eyes….” His eyes meet yours and he asks, “Can you come with me? I want to make sure she’d like it.” His earnestness strikes a chord in you and you agree immediately. However, you realize that you’d be ditching Qifrey and likely wouldn’t see him until you regroup with the apprentices. You glance back at him and open your mouth to apologize, but he seems to have already noticed your inner turmoil and he waves a hand. “Go on, I’ll see you at The Starry Sword.” He can’t help but smile at Tartah’s blush and your crinkled eyes towards him. You always were so good with children.
~~~~~
After a few minutes of walking, you and Tartah arrive at the hair accessory vendor and he holds the clip up to you to examine. “Do you…do you think she’d like it?” His nervousness is palpable, and you ease his worries. “It’s beautiful, Tartah, don’t fret.” He exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding and you remind him, “Coco would appreciate a half-baked carapace yam, you know. I think she’d be absolutely over the moon if you gave her this.” He smiles and you gently hand the clip back to him. He goes to buy it and while the vendor takes the payment and wraps it up, Tartah turns his attention to you. “Was Mr. Qifrey buying jewelry for you?”
Now it’s your turn to fluster. “No, we were just shopping together!” Your words slip out faster than you mean to. “Not together in the romantic sense, just…together, in the physical sense.” A beat passes, and you realize that explanation sounds even worse – and to say that to Tartah makes your ears burn and you wave your hands. “Not in that way! Just…we’re not dating.” You shut your mouth before you can embarrass yourself further and Tartah nods with a knowing smirk. You sigh and shake your head as Tartah laughs. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” he reassures you, and you run a hand down your face as the two of you make your way to The Starry Sword.
~~~~~
A few minutes later, you and Tartah make your way to the alleyway outside the stationer; you find Qifrey and the four girls waiting, bags balanced in Qifrey’s grip. Coco and Tetia immediately dash over to you and Qifrey shoots you a smile as he rebalances the girls’ spoils. Richeh tugs on your robe and wordlessly offers you a meat skewer, her mouth already full with two skewers sticking out. “How many skewers did you end up buying?” You ask her, and her eyes twinkle as she gestures for Qifrey to translate. He closes his eyes and purses his lips, then answers, “She bought fifteen skewers.”
“Oh hey, new record!”
Qifrey shoots you a deadpan glance while you and Richeh eat your skewers. After a few minutes of socializing and discussing everyone’s purchases, Qifrey claps his hands together – to the best of his ability, considering his arms full of the girls’ bags – and your little family gathers to leave. Before you can fully depart, however, you place a hand on Qifrey’s shoulder and lean in close, whispering, “Give Tartah a second, he wants to give Coco the gift.” He nods and distracts the other three girls while you wave at Tartah, inclining your head towards Coco. A moment passes and his eyes light up, and he pulls her aside.
Smiling, you turn back towards the rest of the group and Qifrey stands next to you, leaning down with an impish glint in his eye. “What did you and Tartah discuss that had you so flushed earlier?” Your posture straightens and you break eye contact, which only encourages Qifrey further. He chuckles and you can feel the mirth dancing in his words; he adds, “Growing shy on me, now?” With a half-hearted slap to his shoulder, he laughs and steps back, regaining the girls’ attention, including a delighted Coco skipping back to the group, hairclip in hand. Reunited once more, the six of you make your way back to the atelier.
~~~~~
As the evening winds down and the girls head to their bedchambers, you find yourself sitting by the hearth, gazing into the fire as it crackles and pops; the flames’ orange and ochre hues reflect in your eyes. The sound of rustling fabric stirs you from your reverie as Qifrey slips beside you on the floor. “I didn’t expect Richeh to eat all fifteen skewers,” he admits, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. His shoulders slump as he adds that she wasn’t hungry at all for dinner due to her enormous lunch. You pat his arm, saying, “I’m sure one skipped meal won’t be the end of her; she’s far too stubborn to go out like that.”
The two of you share a quiet laugh, and once the bubbling chuckles ebb, Qifrey meets your gaze. “I have something for you,” he says, bringing something from behind his back. “Please, close your eyes.”
With an uncertain flutter of your hands, you cover your eyes as requested and a few moments later, Qifrey gives the go ahead for you to uncover them once more; what meets your eyes draws a gasp from your lips.
It’s the necklace you had been admiring earlier in the afternoon, before Tartah appeared. It dangles from Qifrey’s delicate grasp and you hold it reverently in your palms. In the low light, it shines even more brilliantly, and you clutch it to your heart and look to him for an explanation. “But I–”
“I purchased it after you left with Tartah,” he confesses. “Your face lit up when you saw it, and I…I thought you’d look lovely in it.”
His voice comes out uncharacteristically meek – yet earnest – and your eyes fall to his lap, where he’s fiddling with his fingers. Your heart melts at the sight and you reach a hand forward to reassure him. You run your thumb in soothing circles on the back of his hand and smile. “You’re wonderfully sweet, do you know that?”
A light dusting of pink appears on his cheek and his tension melts away at the sight of your radiant smile. “I believe I have been called ‘devastatingly dashing’ a time or two, but ‘wonderfully sweet’ may be a new compliment to add to the list,” he teases. He gestures to the necklace and tilts his head. “I’d like to see it on you. Turn for me?”
You follow his instructions and give him full access to the nape of your neck. His fingers loop the necklace in front of you and brush against your neck; the contact ends all too soon and you almost want to chase the feeling as he draws away. You turn once more to face him and his breath catches. The delicate gem rests against your collarbone and casts an iridescent glow against your tunic. “So? How does it look?”
“Absolutely lovely,” Qifrey can barely get out before he’s leaning forward to catch your lips in a quick kiss; it’s over before you can even blink and his eye meets yours. “May I…?” You lean back in and catch his lips in another kiss, and Qifrey wastes no time; one hand travels up to cradle your jaw and the other trails down from your shoulder to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. In return, you gently tug on his hair, smiling and swallowing down his surprised gasp. You pull his head back just enough for you to trace a lackadaisical path along his jaw, nipping his neck as your lips travel lower, and lower, and lower, until…
A sudden throaty whimper slips past his lips and he flushes immediately. You say nothing but his fingers tighten around your waist. “I can feel you smirking, you know,” he complains, but his annoyed tone dissipates as you lean back to meet his gaze, your eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re just adorable, what can I say?” He huffs but has no rebuttal when you resume your efforts; after a few more moments, you press a last loving kiss to his Adam’s apple, drinking up his shuddering inhale. “You’re a tease,” he warns, but his words carry no heat – instead, he brings a hand up to trace along your collarbone and to gently raise the necklace’s gem once more, admiring it. His hands retreat once more, instead cupping your face as his eye flits from yours to your lips, still slightly swollen from his earlier ministrations.
“Shall we continue this in a more…private location?”
A/N: This will likely get a Part 2, I just have work in the morning and it's already 3:11 am 😶🌫️
“No, Coco, like this.”
You demonstrate the spell once more, elegantly closing the circle and illuminating the room with twinkling cyan sparkles. The girl looks around in awe, giggling as one of the sparkles lands right in her palm. Tetia joins soon thereafter, drawn in by the sound of laughter, and you teach her the spell for pink sparkles. “Look, they even match your hair,” you point out with a smile. Sitting back and observing the two apprentices, you fail to hear the approaching footfalls of the other two girls; Richeh and Agott each appear by your side, stifling a smirk when you nearly jump. “Girls, I thought you were still out with Qifrey?”
“We just returned,” a voice interjects. Qifrey takes a step inside, removing his cap and cloak, placing them near the hearth and making his way towards you. The four girls busy themselves with the sparkling spell as Qifrey approaches and kneels next to you.
“What were you up to while we were out? Nothing too mischievous, I hope,” he teases, bringing your hand up to his lips; he leaves a soft kiss on your knuckles and you chuckle. “No, Coco and Tetia were surprisingly accident-free today. I just showed them a spell I learned when I was their age.” You turn your attention back to the girls, but Qifrey’s gaze remains fixed on you.
“Master Qifrey! Can we practice this spell outside? I wanna see if I can make it poof into different shapes!” Tetia announces, and soon enough, the four apprentices exit the atelier…leaving you and Qifrey alone – Olruggio’s out on a commission, so the two of you finally have time to yourselves.
You lean into Qifrey with an exaggerated sigh and he laughs, letting you settle against him. “I love those girls, but I don’t know how you do it everyday,” you bemoan. You run a hand down your face and Qifrey catches it in his grip, replying, “Doing what everyday, caring for them or teaching them?”
“Both.”
“Ah.” He ponders for a moment and meets your eyes. “Well, raising them has brought such meaning to my life. Those girls have such kindness and compassion behind their magic, my only wish in this life is to nurture them and support them as they come into their own.”
“That’s your only wish?” You tease, nudging him with your shoulder. Qifrey’s gaze flits from your eyes to your lips and he leans in. “Perhaps not my only wish.” Your lips meet his in a tender kiss as your hands drift up; your fingers twirl the hair at the nape of his neck and he leans in closer, his hand fluttering from your waist to your hip. As he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, the door to the atelier bursts open; the two of you fly away from one another right as Agott walks through the entranceway. Her eyes meet yours and they narrow; moving over to Qifrey, she shakes her head and purses her lips – a look you’ve seen on Olruggio more times than you can count. The rest of the qiflings file in shortly after, and you send Qifrey a look – one that promises you’d be continuing this later.
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Crocodile was a ruthless, cold-blooded man who had no time in the world for people that didn’t satisfy him. Failed business? Get out. Not good enough? You better catch the next boat home or he will “sables” you and toss you out to sea! He had no time for love or anything casual, just strictly business.
“Are you trying to freeze me to death?” Crocodile asks, mouth clenched on a cigar, shirtless, as you apply a mask onto his face, claiming that his skincare routine was failing him.
“Put a shirt on if you’re cold.” You hum a song to yourself and he tsks, fixing the newspaper in his hands. “Anything interesting?”
“Just about that Mugiwara, that’s all.”
A laugh slipped out. “I still can’t believe you got your ass kicked by a 17 year old.”
Another tsk.
If anyone else made a comment like that, they’d be sinking in either the sand or underwater, depending on the mood Crocodile was in prior to that unnecessary comment. But you? You could easily get away with it. Or so you thought.
Crocodile tossed the newspaper to the side to look at you, his eyes narrowed.
“What is it, Crocy?”
"I let you disrespect me too much." He brought a hand up to your face, his hook lightly grazing your thigh. "Perhaps that should change."
"Perhaps not." You lightly kiss his palm and he hummed. "Leave it on for 30 minutes."
When you get up to leave, Crocodile stops you.
"And where do you think you're going?" He asked, nuzzling your neck, and when you try to push him away, he laughs, that slow, velvety laugh; it caused havoc in your soul. "Can't handle a little product on your neck?"
"You're going to ruin my masterpiece!"
He let out another laugh but this time, he pulled away. "Be quick."
You nod, leave for a few minutes, and return with a bowl of water and a damp cloth. You place it to the side and leave again to grab some snacks. You come back, and sit in your rightful spot: his lap.
"Oh?" He picked up the chocolate covered fruit and tossed one in his mouth. "When did you make these?"
"A few hours ago."
He hummed, taking another. "And the bowl?"
You grin. "You look too comfortable getting up so I'll take off the mask here."
Another hum. Another bite.
"What are we watching?"
You put on your favourite movie, anime, tv show, whatever your choice was, it made Crocodile tsk.
"Again?"
"Yes again." You snap. "I love this so you're going to watch this with me."
He rose one eyebrow. "I thought this was my selfcare day."
"Well..." You trail off, then huff. "Shut up, Crocy, if I want to watch this, we're going to watch this. Stop questioning your wife."
He put the cigar back into his mouth, rolled his eyes, and closed them.
You drag out a sigh. Force back a smile. "Fine, watch whatever you want. I need to clean the microwave anyway."
Some chocolate had spilled onto the plate and you weren't a fan of leaving stains behind. When you get up to leave, he pulled you into his chest, and held you there.
"Watch your movie." He grumbled, eyes still closed.
"No you can-" He lightly pinched your sides. "Hey!"
He smirked, inhaled, exhaled, then blew the smoke to the side. He didn't want the smoke to hit your face.
"Watch it." He repeats for the final time. You couldn't help but laugh. He let out a tsk. Took the cigar from his mouth and placed it down on the ashtray. "What now, woman?"
He exhaled the last bit of smoke, and when your mouth met his, Crocodile exhaled into your mouth. His chest rumbled as he pulled you in closer. Before things could escalate, you part from him with a grin, looking flushed. He hummed again.
"Forget the movie, lets have some fun, eh?"
"Not with the mask on, Crocy." You brush his hair from his face.
Another hum.
He loved to hum instead of using his words.
Thirty minutes went by and you remove the mask from his face with the damp cloth and water, a tender expression on both of your faces, him using this as his chance to tease you with his touches. You pull away and scold him every time. He would simply laugh. Once it was over, he pulled you into him, nuzzling his face into your neck, feeling fresh.
"How about now?" He purred, mouth on your neck. "Time for some fun?"
You tilt your neck for better excess. That's all he needed before ending the night with you flushed against him.
“Y/N!” You look up when Heat mentioned your name from across the ship.
A banquet was in order after your Captain had defeated Big Mom with the help of Trafalgar Law. Now, you were overlooking the Poneglyph that Trafalgar had oh so kindly dumped on the ground.
You fought alongside the Samurai so your wounds were still healing. The last thing you wanted to do was drink.
“Put that down and party with this, eh?” He said and all the other crew members hollered and cheered in agreement.
The thing is you weren’t feeling so great. Your body was telling you to sit this one out and deal with the stress of the events that occurred in your own way. Problem is, no one on the crew liked your way, especially your Captain, who overheard the conversation from his spot beside Killer.
When the question was asked, Eustass got on his feet. “Not on my watch.”
Kindly, you decline and apologise when groans and huffs of disappointment filled the air. Soon, the attention was gone from you.
You rub your chin, and the back of your neck, resuming your reading.
“Tsk,” Eustass dragged his makeshift couch with him and put it down beside you. “Get your ass up here, you stress ball.”
“Huh? Who’s stressed?” You huff, but comply with his order anyway.
You sat beside him and his good arm rested around your shoulder, a drink in the metal one. You lean into his side and try to read the Poneglyph again but you couldn’t focus. You blink back the tears in your eyes.
“You’re such a crybaby.” Eustass huffed. “Why are you even on my damn ship?”
“That’s hilarious. I could’ve sworn I saw a tear in your eye when Nami offered me a place on Straw Hat’s ship.”
His jaw clenched. “Still can’t believe you agreed to that shit.” He spat, eyes narrowed dangerously. Then, he processed your false accusation. “Huh? Who had a tear in their eye?”
You grin at the end. “I only agreed to see your reaction.”
“No one’s taking you from me.”
You roll your eyes. You didn’t realise your hand was trembling until your Captain placed his metal hand on top of your flesh hand.
“What is it now?” He asked, eyes on you.
The last person you wanted to talk to about your problems was your egotistical Captain. He was the absolute worst when it came to comforting words so you always went to Killer for advice. But even though he wasn’t good at comforting you with words, you love the comfort his body would bring you. He was like a protective guard dog.
“What if this wasn’t the outcome?” You say, looking at the paper.
“Tsk, what ifs aren’t important.”
You scowl. “You’re the worst.”
He barked out a laugh. “I know.” He was quiet for a second. “If this wasn’t the outcome then we’d all be dead. That’s it.”
So blunt.
You lean against the couch now instead of him and he tugged you towards him, liking the feel of your body against his, and when your hands land flat on his chest, he hummed, a big smirk on his face.
“Like what you feel?”
“Shut up.” You grumble, closing your eyes. Then, the words left you before you could take them back. “I don’t know what I’d do if you were dead, Eustass.”
Not Captain, his name. You always said his name when you were serious. He looked down at you. Then at the sky.
“Can’t live without me? Good. Rely on me. I like that. But learn how to live for yourself too. I’m not here to promise anything, I’m here to lead – and that’s the most dangerous thing about being Captain.” He threw his head back to look at the night sky.
You frown. “I know.”
“Then why’s your lip doing that thing?”
“Why the hell are you staring at my lips?”
His cheeks flamed red. “Fuck off.”
You let out a laugh. You felt much better. He squeezed your arm in reassurance.
“If something happened to you, I wonder what I’d do…” You say softly. “The crew would disband, right? I’d probably get married, move someplace quiet, settle down, might have a pet or pop out a few kids if I want them, who knows.”
He was quiet.
“Captain?” You say his name, and look at his face. He had an ugly look on his face. “What’s that look for?”
“You’re not settling down with no man or having any of his kids, brat.” He snapped, a glare on his face. “I’ll fucking haunt the shit out of the place and traumatise those little bastards by dropping their shit and banging on the walls.”
You let out a laugh. “You’re so stupid.” He glared at you. “But fine, whatever. You’re not allowed to get married to someone if I die too.”
“You’re not dying before me. Not on my watch.” His voice was cold, serious, and you believed him.
“Humph, let whatever’s around decide that.”
He grits his teeth. “Well I’m around and I’ve decided that I die first.”
“Can we talk about something else now?” You huff, not wanting to hear about the death of you or your Captain.
“You’re the one in a mopey mood, shithead. Jeez, you’re like a walking thundercloud.”
You ignore him. “I wonder how Zoro’s doing…”
“Huh? That green haired shit?” He barked. “Why would you wonder about him?”
“Oh, I spoke to him in front of Yasuei’s grave for a couple of hours.” You smile and at the look, he scowled. “It was nice.”
“Yeah?” He said, voice rough. “You were getting cosy with that Trafalgar too, leaning on his shoulder and everything.”
“No one else was there, you were too busy fighting Luffy.” You frown. “I miss them all.”
He scowled at you. “Oi, don’t miss those idiots. I’m your Captain.”
“Unfortunately.” You sigh, teasing him.
“Unfortunately?” He repeats, then he grins, putting you in a headlock. His grip wasn’t tight at all. He did it to bring his face closer to yours. “Say that again, dolly.”
You grin. “Unfortunately.”
He pressed his lips to yours and when he did, you were slightly surprised but still, kiss back. He pulled back, grinning.
“Fortunately.” You correct, squishing his cheeks together. You kiss him again and pull back. “Thank you.”
“Thanking me for a kiss?”
“No, for helping me.” You say, referring to your earlier stress.
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t thank me for stupid shit. I would’ve preferred a thank you for the kiss.”
“And boost your ego? No fucking way, Captain.”
“Humph, whatever.” His fingers play with your hair when you rest your head on his lap. “Let me handle things. Don’t stress for the night. You got that?”
You were quiet for a moment. Putting your trust and faith in someone was something you’d rather not do, but you’ve been sailing with your Captain for years. You always had one foot out the door, afraid to step in and let him in completely, but the kiss you shared with him softened your doubts and whispered for you to trust him.
“Loud and clear, Captain.”
authors note: I’m on the egghead arc so I’ll be back from my hiatus once I’ve caught up with the anime! I hope anon enjoyed reading the request. I had fun writing it! :) <3
yellow! uh uhm I think you accept requests on WHA? ignore this or delete it if you dont though! I wanted to hear your thoughts on brimhat!reader x qifrey? if you have any??
Qifrey x Brimhat!Reader
Now this is an interesting question....
I think Qifrey would have a LOT (and I mean A LOOTTTTT) of conflicting feelings; I think no matter how close the two of you are, he'd be against it basically 100% of the time.
More thoughts down below, MANGA SPOILERS!!! vvvvvv
Okay so we all know of Qifrey's immense hatred for the Brimhats, especially for what they did to him when he was younger; we also know he holds major grudges, as seen by his less-than-amiable interactions with the Knights Moralis (I can't blame him, I am NOT an Easthies fan either 😭)
However....what if Reader dipped their toes into forbidden magic for Qifrey's sake....walk with me here
I'm imagining you somehow find out about Qifrey's condition and before he can erase your memories, you flee to find any type of cure, no matter how forbidden it is
It's a double-edged sword because even though he never wanted you to find out about his affliction, his apprehension about your fate -- especially if the Knights Moralis catch wind of it -- staves off the spread of the Silverwood
Very conflicting feelings; his hatred of the Brimhats and his love for you grapple each other every moment of the day. Even though you've gone down this path, he wonders about you and desperately tries not to assume the worst -- that once you get a taste of forbidden magic, you'll never be able (or want) to be rid of it.
This was never the life he wanted for either of you...but in his deepest heart of hearts, an infinitesimal glimmer of hope flickers; sometimes, he finds himself dreaming against all the odds that you'll find a cure and return to witch society -- to the atelier -- to him.
I haven't written headcanons in like six years so I hope it wasn't too egregious!! 💙
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IMAGINEE the reader has had a looong month, being commissioned for a task that was quite difficult to say the least. Only solemnly sending letters to their beloved (aka qifrey). And when the reader finally arrives back to the atelier they have welcome back party! It’s not grand, but it’s wholesome, and would have probably met coco for the first time. (+Qifrey being all over the reader during and after the party)
first time making a request, kinda nervous 🤧🤑
Here you go anon! As usual, it is unedited.
Welcome Home
Genre: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Familial Fluff
Pairing: Qifrey/Reader
Type: One-shot
Word Count: 1800+
Rating: G
Nothing is more exciting than returning home after a long trip and being greeted by...no one? Hm. How strange?
You smiled at the sweet pegasi as you hopped down from the carriage. They fluttered their wings and chuffed as you slipped a hand beneath their jaws, scratching affectionately at the junction of their neck and wings. You smiled and fished for a sugar cube from your pocket, offering it to the creatures as a show of appreciation.
“Thank you,” you hummed as you stepped away. They broke the soil with their hooves before taking off, a call of gratitude was what they returned to you.
When they dipped over the horizon you nodded with satisfaction. You spun on your heel and placed your hands on your hips. You breathed deep, liberated from the salty tang of the Great Hall and now fully embraced by the rich grass of the valley. The white and teal fabric of your cloak settled near your ankles, the weight of it no longer suffocating. Oh, how wonderful.
Home at last. The Great Hall was a welcome change but when two weeks turned into an unscheduled two months and the only contact you had with your family were hand written letters, you soon began to openly lament your stay. You missed home. You missed your warm atelier where the tiles shook off rain and melted snow, where the cobblestone lit with each step. Where your family lived, the smell of home cooking and the warmth of the hearth.
You missed your husband, your friend and your children.
You paused and tilted your head, where were they though? Whether it was a day trip to Kahln or a trek to the Hall, someone was always there to greet you when you returned. The sun was just beginning to set, you were a bit later than you had told Qifrey you’d be but he didn’t say anything to it.
You trekked along curiously as you hiked up your skirts and descended the small path to the atelier’s entrance, the stones glowing steadily underfoot. Olruggio must have done maintenance while you were gone, they were brighter than usual.
When still no one greeted you your mind plunged. Had they forgotten you were coming back? Qifrey did tend to get caught up in his work but there were no tests on the books and he would’ve told you if an emergency had cropped up.
You reached for the door knob and the lock triggering without an alarm.
Maybe the girls needed something and they couldn’t wait? Did the Starry Sword get in new stock? You knew how much Qifery loved raiding that place.
You pushed the door open gingerly, leaning forward so just your head poked through. It was dark. You could make out faint shadows in the background, casted by the little light that peaked through the closed shutters. It smelt a bit sweeter than usual but nothing seemed outwardly concerning. Maybe they really did go out?
You ducked into the room, setting your bag down and pawing at the wall for the lantern. You scribbled a sigil, it was messy and you’d have to fix it in a few minutes but it would hold just enough for you to find your way to the windows.
Just as you were about to close the circle the candles burst to life.
“Welcome home!” You spun on your heel, clutching your chest. Your family stood around the dining table, a full spread stretched across it. Your favorite sweets, a savory meal and a bundle of clearly hand picked wildflowers held together by a homemade vase sat at top of it.
The girls stood in front of the table, wearing aprons with bare feet and cheeks stained with flour. Qifrey had a playful grin, feigning it as innocent as he watched you while Olruggio stood to the side, hunched over the counter as he chopped away a bundle of vegetables.
You smiled, “hello, everyone.” The weight of the Great Hall was left at the door as you dropped your cloak on the hook beside you. You rolled up your sleeves and asked, “is this all for me?”
The girls squealed, even Agott seemed emotional, and they scrambled to get to you. You laughed and crouched, opening your arms to the three as they nearly toppled you in their haste. “My sweet girls.” You mused as you pressed your hands against their cheeks. You couldn’t get any more words out since they chose to chatter about everything they’d gotten up to since you were gone. You could barely keep up, eyes bouncing from child to child as they gestured wildly and spoke over one another.
“Now, now, give her some space.” Qifrey’s calm voice cut through their storytelling and they all turned to look at him. They were a bit miffed by the interruption. You chuckled as Tetia’s cheeks stretched into a pout, she’d been singing a tale about some strange magical creature she saw while they were on one of their picnics.
“It’s alright, you can tell me all about it a little later.” You kissed her cheek before you stood. You’d have plenty of time to share stories later. All of you, tucked around the dying embers of the evening fire, buried in pillows and shrouded with blankets. All while the children cast spells of grand adventures and fell asleep in the middle of them.
Your grin only widened as Qifrey approached. You stepped forward, careful to not knock into the kids and reached both arms towards him. He grasped your elbows as you cupped his face. His eyes were warm and they twinkled with relief. “I missed you, my dear.”
“And I you,” you leaned forward and kissed him. Slow and sweet and filled with longing. Tetia giggled and clapped. Agott rolled her eyes.
“And the queen of the house returns,” you pulled away from Qifrey, dropping your hands as you reached for the man who spoke. Olruggio was positioned a step away, a wooden bowl filled with greens tucked under his arm. You reached a hand out to him and he took it casually, pressing his lips to the back of it in greeting. You caught his fingers before he could pull away and tugged him close. Qifrey’s hands fell to your waist and you felt his fingers dig into your hips. Clinging to you like you would disappear again. You couldn’t move but you really didn’t need to.
“Hey! I’m holding stuff here—” You pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you for watching over them,” you muttered. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand casually, “just don’t be gone as long next time, you hear? I’ve grown used to you balancing them out.”
“Of course,” you chuckled as he meandered back to the place setting, dropping the bowl at the table, “I won’t do it again.”
“Yeah yeah,” he gestured towards the girls and the three of them rushed to sit. Richeh’s quiet, “I want to sit next to Mama,” heard over the sound of situating cutlery and glasses.
“I can sit with you Rich—Oh? And who is this?” Everyone froze and turned to look at the young green haired girl in the corner of the room. Her shoulders were hunched and she plucked at the hem of her dress. She looked up for a brief moment and squeaked before finding interest in her shoes. You worried she was going to disappear right into the floor with how anxious she seemed. She stood out like a sore thumb against the weathered wooden furniture. Her hair color was unusual but you had two girls with pastel hair, so who were you to judge?
You moved and Qifrey, who was reluctant to let you go, traced his fingers along your hip as you left his side but he didn’t stop you.You treated the mysterious child like you would a new born lamb. Cautious and slow. You smiled gently as you dropped down and rested your arms on your knees. You didn’t want to scare her.
“Hi, you must be Coco?” Her head shot up and you chuckled as she looked at the group behind you.
“I’ve heard that you joined our home as Qifrey’s new apprentice?” You said sweetly. Her hands moved faster, plucking at the edges of her skirt. Her face warmed with a heavy blush. She nodded and stuttered, “N-Nice to meet you…”
“You’d think we’re feeding you to a bear, Coco.” Olruggio said. The girl jumped, “Chin up, she won’t bite.”
So this was her, huh? Qifrey’s letters didn’t go into much detail about the whole affair, but you knew he’d brought a new child into the fold- My love, I have taken on a new apprentice. I will not say much but she shows great promise and I believe we will be able to nurture her to grow into a wonderful witch.
Oh, the mystery of him. You stopped questioning his decisions a long time ago.
You laughed and tilted your head, “I would never bite,” you looked up at her mischievously and brought your hand to shield your lips, “but sometimes your masters deserve it.” The little girl giggled.
You reached for her hands. “Now, let’s not destroy this beautiful work, hm?” Her blush only darkened when you guided her fingers away from her dress. The fabric would probably need mending with how many threads she had pulled from it but it was something you could fix easily. She muttered “sorry,” and you paid it no mind. She had nothing to be sorry for.
You held her hand in yours and her fingers twitched before wrapping around your palm. Your heart warmed. “Come, let’s eat, yes? Did you help make anything?”
Coco nodded her head and pointed to a fruit tart at the end of the table, “Me and Tetia made that. T-they said it was your favorite.”
“Well, they guided you well because it is.” Coco’s anxiety melted a little more, “And I’m very excited to try it, the witches in this home are particularly good at cooking. So, what do you say?”
Coco stood a little taller and held her head a little higher as you approached the group. She looked up at you with round rosy cheeks and a little less anxiety, “Yeah!”
You pulled her across the room, shifting her in front of you as you guided her to a seat. Olruggio, ever the odd man out, pulled up a stool at the head and fell into it with a sigh. The girls immediately returned to their gabbing. You slid next to Richeh, tapping her nose affectionately as she smiled up at you. Qifrey shifted to your side, making sure to press his hip against yours. He casually leaned in, planting a kiss to the side of your head and whispering low, “Welcome home.” You leaned into his touch.
“Agott pass the bread!”
“Give me the butter first, Tetia.”
“Coco, meat please.”
“Oh, here Richeh!”
“Girls, please, the food isn’t going anywhere. Now, who wants some greens?” Olruggio cut through it all.
“Ew!”
You chuckled and Qifrey placed his hand on your thigh, you placed your hand over his and watched everyone fondly, “It’s good to be home.”
Hello hello!! I wanted to ask if you were taking requests for witch hat atelier?
Hi hi!!! I haven't taken a fic request in like five years so I'm a bit nervous about the prospect, BUT!!! If y'all ever want to propose a little idea or anything to me then I'm all ears! (just no guarantee I'll 100% do it 😋)
I also write for other fandoms as well! If you want to check out my AO3 (whimsnwishes), I have fics for Gachiakuta & Devil May Cry on there already!
Summary: In the warm atmosphere of the atelier, you struggle to find a way to express your feelings for Qifrey through something as simple as cooking. Unsure and quietly overwhelmed by your own emotions, you end up working with his apprentices to prepare a cake inspired by his handwritten recipe notes.
Tags: Romantic Tension, Mild emotional insecurity / self-doubt, Fluff (kinda), Domestic setting (kitchen / atelier life), Very light anxiety around affection/validation
Word Count: 2.7k
Requested?: Yes! by: @foofferfoofles (sorry! It seems like I cant directly tag your account for some reason.)
Dividers by: @cursed-carmine & @enchanthings-a
The afternoon sunlight seeps through the ateliers windows like shimmering gold ribbons. You sit in the kitchen attempting to relax in the sun's warmth, your pencil gripped tightly pressed to your lips. Looking at your small notepad, you sigh. The small book is filled with the names of different kinds of foods, each name bearing a dark line across it, like a testament to your continued confusion.
‘What would Qifrey like…’ you thought, the question constantly ringing in your head, what do you cook for a man whose cooking could rival a trained chef?
You let out a really, really, really long breath as if to dispel the frustration, confusion, and even more frustration and what's left in your body is… love. Love for him, love for what he does. But it's this love where you find yourself picking the parts that you yourself are a bit ashamed of. You want to be the best for him, to be the best partner so why not improve?
Unfortunately, you aren’t the type to just lay out your most vulnerable feelings on the table for the whole world to see, you and Qifrey are similar in this aspect (much to Olruggio’s and Alaria’s dismay) so this dish is the next best thing… showing love through action. has to embody your appreciation and love for him as a person, friend and more importantly, a lover.
An omelet with a heart drawn with ketchup on it?... no, too obvious.
A heart shaped pizza…? No! That's practically the same as the last one, and can we even cook a pizza here?
A heart shape– enough with the hearts!
You groan loudly, these ideas are too… out there too… childish than what you want to go.
“Professor [Name]?” You jump, startled by the sudden intrusion and end up accidentally dropping your pencil and notebook.
“Ah–!” the young witch—which you conclude is Tetia due to the sound of her voice scrambles to pick up the things you dropped and hand them back to you. “Professor Name! I'm so sorry for startling you, are you alright?”
“No… I’m alright Tetia, Thank you for picking those up for me.” You smile at her as you gratefully take the pencil and notepad from her hands.
“Thank you for thanking me, Professor!... but…” She tilts her head, curiosity practically pouring out from her body, “What are you thinking so hard about? We already know what we’re having for dinner, what's that for?” She asks as she points to the notepad.
You scratch the back of your neck. “Well…”
You find yourself, sitting with the rest of Qifrey’s apprentices, Agott to your left and Coco and Richeh in front of you.
“Whats with the sudden apprentice meeting Tetia? I was just about to have a breakthrough!” Agott exclaimed.
Tetia raises both of her arms gesturing towards you. “Professor Name needs our help!”
Coco tilts her head to the side with her pointer finger beside her mouth. “Help..? with what professor?”
“I’m having a bit of difficulty wit–” “PROFESSOR [NAME] HAS LOVE PROBLEMS!!”
…
“WHAT??” All three students quickly rise up from their seats, which is surprising on Agott’s because you didn’t think that she would be the type to be interested in this kind of thing.
“L-love problems?!?!! I thought you were with Master Qifre–”
“Of course it's Master Qifrey, Coco! Professor [Name] would never–”
“What happened???”
“I-its just–” You attempt to clear the air but then Tetia steps forward, “Fret not my sister apprentices! For I will explain the situation to all of you!”
“What are you thinking so hard about? We already know what we’re having for dinner, what's that for?”
“Well…” I can tell Tetia about this right? Maybe she can help you! Tetia is a clever and observant girl after all. It's totally not weird that you’re confiding in a tween right?
“Well??” Tetia asks, pushing for you to continue. “I’m sure you noticed that I am not a very vocal witch.. And um…” “So you’re asking for advice on what to make for Professor Qifrey because you want him to feel appreciated and loved but you’re having a hard time because Professor Qifrey is a really good chef and you don’t know what to make for him?”
…Qifrey’s right, she is really observant. You blink, not knowing what to do now that your insecurity is out on the table.
“...aaaaand that's what they told me!” Tetia says.
All three students at the table think and reflect on the situation presented to them.
“Something Professor Qifrey would like…”
“...That would show Professor [Name]’s love…”
“...That is totally new to Professor Qifrey…”
Their eyebrows furrow with concentration, their minds going over every recipe they know.
“Ah!” Agott’s concentration breaks as she realizes… “What about some cake? We have some ingredients that the Master wanted to get rid of!” Richeh inspects the mentioned ingredients. “But why would the Master get rid of perfectly good cheese?”
To answer her question, the ravenette carefully lifts the block of cheese. “Because it's near its expiry date.”
“Another smart thought, from Agott!”
“Agotto agree…”
“Enough with the puns!”
“But we also have this entire bag of flour, if we use it we would have so much dough left over…” Coco says.
Tetia’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Then how about we all have cake for dessert? And spaghetti for dinner! We can save the flour for tomorrow!”
Agott’s brow raises at Tetia’s suggestion. “If I didn’t know any better Tetia, I'd think you asked for spaghetti for supper because you couldn't take any more curry." That's right… We've been having curry for 2 nights straight… honestly you wanted something different tonight too so you can't really blame Tetia if that were the case.
A long uncomfortable silence builds as Tetia, Richeh and Coco stare at Agott. “Wh-what..? Did I say something wrong?”
“Agott… did you just…” the pink haired pigtailed witch suddenly grabs her fellow apprentice on their shoulders. “Did you just tease me?! Wow, I never thought I’d be able to experience Agott teasing me!”
“W-well you all tease me all the time! I don’t see why I can't return the same energy?” Agott explained in her embarrassed state.
Time seems to slow down as you watch the girls talking with each other, but you can't lie to yourself—Cake feels like all the other possibilities are crossed away back in your notepad. It isn’t what you originally planned but…
“Alright, let us make the cake!” You stiffly exclaim, the strained smile on your face completely contradicting the positive attitude you reverberated. You walk towards the kitchen, gathering the necessary ingredients to create cake (and spaghetti).
“Wait, you're actually making the cake?” Agott asked. “It was just a suggestion Professor [Name], you don't have to go through with it….”
You reach down and pat Agott on the head. “I think cake is perfect, I know Qifrey likes it.” but is it enough?
“But does it truly communicate your point across?” Richeh asks, looking up at you as she attempts to fully close her arms around your figure. “A-and!” Tetia adds, “It’s not new to professor Qifrey! It only passes 1 out of the 3 guidelines we set!”
You can only manage a steady smile as worry flickers across their faces. The truth is… you still aren’t entirely sure whether a few small touches on a meal could ever carry everything you want to say.
Still, you gently shake your head as if to ease their concern. “I’m sure your Professor will like it no matter what. Even just the fact that you’re all thinking of him and putting in this effort… I think that alone would make him happy.”
You clap your hands lightly, as though to settle the moment before it can spiral any further. “Alright…let’s get started.”
They all nod in unison, determination burning behind their eyes as they take on the heavy (and tasty!) responsibility of saying “I love you.”
After thinking about it for a bit the 5 of you decided it was best to make a classic cheesecake, since there was a lack of flour.
You roll up your sleeves and grab the recipe from the designated area on the shelves and you soften at the sight of the little notes written on the margin of the recipe. It’s Qifrey’s personal notes. He was always such a caring man.
~Cheese Cake Recipe!~
Two packs of plain crackers
^ Make sure to crush into fine powder.
(Make sure to leave some crackers for Richeh)
90 g of Butter
^ Melt into a liquid consistency
> Then combine the crushed crackers with the liquid butter
> Grab a flat pan with high walls and press the mix flat onto the pan
> Bake in an oven for 7- 8 mins in medium heat
(It does not need to be 7-8 mins, Agott prefers it to be softer)
Mix four cups (900g) of cream cheese with 1 cup (200g) Sugar and mix into a smooth consistency.
(Maybe more sugar… Tetia loves sweets)
Then add 4 eggs, mix each egg 1 by 1
(Do not over beat)
Add 1 teaspoon of Vanilla Extract
(use 2 Teaspoons, Coco says 1 isn’t enough)
Add lemon zest
Add ½ teaspoons of cornstarch
Then a pinch of Salt
Mix everything until it's all incorporated.
Place the pan containing the cracker mixture onto a large sheet of foil and fold the foil up the sides of the pan, then pour the filling over the crust.
Place the pan into the upper shelf of the oven then place a roasting pan containing hot water underneath it.
Bake it in medium heat for 45-50 mins
(make sure the edges are set but the middle is slightly jiggly)
Once finished baking, turn off the fire then leave it in the oven for another hour.
Then allow the cheese cake to cool off to room temperature.
~End of Recipe, Have fun!~
You didn’t necessarily fail… its more like the whole kitchen is a mess and Qifrey hates messes. You would hate to be the cause of added pressure onto his shoulders.
Holding a cleaning cloth, you run it over the unclean kitchen surfaces. Making cake with his trainees, especially when it's something you're passionate about, makes you feel more connected. You were afraid that you wouldn't get along with his apprentices when you first walked into the atelier, but you wanted to because he values his students.
You are thankful to Tetia’s observant eye, if it wasn't for her taking initiative, you probably would be stuck in your previous state.
Creaaakkk…..
You flinch at the sound of the door opening, No! The kitchen isn’t clean yet–!
“Um… what happened here?” A certain white haired witch asks.
“Ah! Hello dear… we were just–”
“AHH!! PROFESSOR QIFREY IS HERE!”
"Keep the gift hidden!" “Present...?” Tetia puts her hands on her mouth as she realizes she let the secret slip. "Not a gift!” In an effort to rescue the day, Agott intervenes, saying, as she pushes Qifrey to a more secluded spot. "Professor, I have a spell I'd like you to review a spell I was just working on.”
The kitchen is filled with warm laughter and chatter from the atelier. You laugh along with them; honestly, you could live like this for the rest of your days. You sneak a glance at Qifrey, to see if he is enjoying the atmosphere, and see him with his chin resting on his hand, his eye already pointed directly at you.
Your cheeks warm at the realization that he is staring—very shamelessly. But that warmth is quickly replaced with a sense of dread. You avert your eyes, fearing that even one look might reveal what is truly behind the reasoning for that cake. What if he doesn’t like what you prepared? What if—
“Master!! Stop staring at Professor [Name] and let’s cut the cake!” Tetia exclaims, interrupting your thoughts.
You move to grab the knife, but then out of your peripheral vision you see Qifrey’s familiar silhouette approaching. He places his hand over yours, which is slightly shaking from anticipation and mild fear. As if noticing, he gently strokes your knuckles, attempting to soothe you in a subtle manner, then guides your hand with the knife and cuts the cake with you.
Across from you, the girls are wide-eyed, their faces red from the romantic display.
After distributing the slices, Qifrey is given the first bite, and he takes it.
All of his students, and especially you, watch intensely and expectantly.
“Hm?” he asks after realizing he is being watched. “Oh yes, I love it. Hearing about your lovely adventure with my partner fills me with so much joy. It pleases me to know that you all went above and beyond to help my partner in their time of need.” At that, all of his students beam with satisfaction.
Beneath the table, he takes your hand again. “I noticed that you followed my personal notes written in the recipe. Without that, I don’t think the cake would’ve turned out this way. You did wonderfully, my dear.”
“However, why spaghetti? We still have some curry left over,” he asks. Tetia responds bluntly, “Master, please don’t make us eat the same dinner for three days in a row.”
As you clean the soiled dishes, the sounds of clanking plates and running water echo through the kitchen. Normally, the apprentices would handle the dishwashing, but because of their help today, you chose to do it yourself to give them time to rest.
Suddenly, soft arms wrap slowly around your waist, and a cloud of white hair fills your peripheral vision. For a split second, you stiffen in his hold, but once you hear his soothing voice, you melt into his chest.
“Darling, I’m simply over the moon that you bonded with my apprentices.”
“It was certainly a welcome surprise,” you begin. “They are all such wonderful children.”
You bite your lip; you are never the one to initiate romantic gestures first, so this whole thing is a bit nerve-wracking. “How did you like the cake?”
“It was beautiful, just as beautiful as the witches who made it—especially the one in front of me.”
You giggle, suspecting that Qifrey had sensed your worry even before this whole event. In an attempt to soothe him in return, you take one of his hands and kiss the back of it. “So corny… perhaps you’re losing your charm?” You hear him gasp behind you.
“Losing my charm? Dear, your partner is the very definition of charm!”
But then his tone softens. “To be truthful, I really appreciated the care you put into it.” His arms tighten as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Seeing and tasting the details I wrote in the margins really showed me that you care for me—and for my students. Thank you, my love.”
He then places his hands on your waist, turning you to face him. Suddenly, the ambient sound of the atelier fades as your full attention locks onto him. He rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes.
“The surprise was wonderful, I loved it. But you need not give me anything to show your love for me.” He says in a soft manner before his lips press onto the soft mounds of your cheek. “Qifrey–?” “Your presence, your caring nature.” He kisses your nose, at that your breath hitches. “What are you–?” “Or just you being yourself.” His lips leave yours just as fast as they met, but from that one short instance you can feel what he wants to say.
“You don’t need to prove your love for me. You are enough.”
He pulls you into a deep hug, his calloused hands gently pressing your head against his neck. “I know those words alone aren’t enough to undo those feelings of yours.”
“But…” He steps back, the light of the magical lamp illuminating his determined expression. “I’ll spend every second we have together reminding you of that fact.”
a/n: YAY FINISHED! first ever fic for Witch Hat Atelier and I feel great! I do hope that this is to the requesters liking. This work is also cross posted on Ao3!
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A/N: This is a Part 2 for the last fic, "I Will", but can be read as a standalone fic!
When Qifrey asked if you’d like to clean up, you hadn’t thought he was being literal…until you find yourself in the small bathroom adjoining his bedroom. He leads you forward with a gentle hand on the small of your back; his touch, though grounding, is also light – if you wanted to pull away, you have no doubt he’d let you. You stand there, glancing around as he flits to and fro. Soon enough, his arms are full of towels, soaps, and…oil?
“I’m flattered, Qifrey, but lubricant? How lecherous of you,” You tease. His eye darts from you to the bottle and when he meets your gaze once more, his face is an adorable pink hue. “I– You– That’s not what this is!” He clears his throat and you laugh in delight. He always was so easy to fluster.
He places down the towels and gestures for you to step towards him. “I’m here to take care of you,” he explains. You approach and he guides you towards the stool beside the tub; once you sit down, he stands behind you and runs his hands over your shoulders, making you jump. He murmurs an apology and you try to ease your muscles – but no matter how hard you try, the stress won’t leave your shoulders.
“It’s alright,” He says softly, and his hands begin to knead into your shoulders. As lithe as they are, his hands carry a focused strength – they press deep but not overwhelmingly so, applying just enough pressure to soothe your weariness. You swallow back a groan at the sensation of the knots getting worked out of your system and Qifrey exhales with a smile. “Feeling any better yet?” He adds the slightest bit of pressure to a certain spot and you, almost imperceptibly, flex into his touch.
“How did you get so good at this?” You wonder aloud. He chuckles and tilts his head, reminiscing. “You know quite well how Olruggio works into the early hours of the morning,” he begins, “and how often I’ll discover he’s spent nearly half a day at his desk.”
“That does sound like Olruggio.”
“Indeed.” Qifrey hums. “His shoulders are always tense to his…lackluster posture.” Your lips quirk up at his careful choice of words but you let him continue. “I’ve worked the most difficult knots from that man’s shoulders, and I’ve learned a few tricks along the way.” His hands slow to a stop and his fingers fiddle with the fabric of your collar. His voice is much softer when he speaks again.
“I would like to try something, if that’s alright with you?”
His tone is unsure, and before you can interject, he adds, “I believe it may prove beneficial, but only if you’re comfortable with it.” After a moment or two, you nod and he pinches the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. “I’d like to use a calming blend on your skin, but to do so, I need you to take off your shirt for me.”
You nearly whirl around to cast a shocked glance his way, but you know he would never take advantage of your vulnerable state. Giving him a nod, you pull your shirt over your head, exposing your back to him. To his credit, he keeps his composure, but you can feel a slight tremble in his hands as he lathers his hands in the oil and begins running his hands up and down your shoulders. It’s quiet in the room, the two of you basking in the silence. Little by little, you ease more into Qifrey’s grasp.
“Comfortable?” His voice is much closer, his lips brushing your ear and his hair tickling your neck. You shudder at his proximity and he huffs a chuckle. “Easy now,” he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smile. Charming bastard. His hands wander further down, tracing down either side of your spine; you arch your back ever so slightly at the sensation. His lips travel from your ear to your neck and you inhale sharply, finally noticing the fruity notes of the oil he used.
“Willowgrape?”
Your voice comes out throatier than you intended, and Qifrey presses a kiss at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “We had a bottle leftover from the last visit to the market, and you know I find the flavor irresistible,” he whispers. Fingers trail up to rub circles below your scapula and his lips leave a gentle kiss in their wake. You melt even further into his touch and let a sigh slip past your lips; he presses a final kiss to your neck and trails his hands up your arms. “Would you like to take a bath, my dear?”
“A…A bath?” Your voice stutters and he maintains your gaze, his eyes remaining on your face instead of traveling your exposed form. “I can step out, if you’d prefer–”
“No, it’s fine.”
Now it’s Qifrey’s turn to stutter as you turn towards him to grab one of the soaps at his side. Though your torso is at an angle, he still catches a glance at your bare front and his blush from earlier returns. Even with an averted gaze, he helps you step into the tub, your hand in his. Once you’re settled, he turns the stopper and it immediately fills up due to its state as a contraption. Qifrey pours the soap in and, with a quick spell from his quire, the bubbles form an opaque and bouncy layer atop the water. He transforms them into the shapes of your favorite creature and you smile at the sight.
“I can see why the girls love you so much,” you say. Qifrey’s head tilts towards yours and you continue, “You have the same joy for magic that they do, it’s…refreshing.” He immediately flaps a hand to brush off the compliment, but you hold steadfast. “I mean it; with everything with the…Brimhats–” you’re cut off by the sharp twinge in his expression and you hesitate for a brief moment. “It’s just that I know the girls – and I as well – really appreciate how much you care.”
The bathroom is quiet; a beat passes, then another, and another after that. It’s you who breaks the silence. “You’re an amazing teacher and friend, Qifrey – we’re lucky to have you in our lives.”
He looks at you with an inscrutable expression and before you can blink, he’s at the edge of the tub with a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in with his lips hovering a breath away from your lips. “Do you have any idea what your words do to me?” He whispers, his eye darting between your eyes and your lips. “...What you do to me?”
His other hand cups your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “My dear Y/N…” His breath shudders for the briefest of seconds. “May I kiss you?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, you close the distance between you and your lips crash together. Unlike your usual kisses, this one is more fervent, more desperate; you stifle a gasp and your hand reaches out to grab Qifrey’s shirt, yanking him towards you. The water from the bath sloshes on both of you and bubbles spill onto the floor, but neither of you can find it in you to care. Qifrey’s hands wander down further, pressing between your shoulder blades and causing you to arch into him, and his hair tickles your cheek as he delves deeper into the kiss.
“Y/N…” Qifrey groans into the kiss, moving his lips down your jaw and towards your neck, leaving searing marks in his wake. His wandering hands swoop even lower, running up your spine and your breath hitches; he kisses your collarbone and peers up at you with a heated gaze that makes your heart skip a beat.
“I fear we may have gotten a bit carried away,” he confesses, and you huff a laugh. You place a hand on his face and bring him back up to you, pressing a sweeter, firmer kiss upon his lips and hearing the content sigh leave him. He pulls back and is shocked to find himself covered in bubbles, nearly matching your soapy appearance. “A bit?” He casts you an attempt at a withering glare but it dies as soon as he sees your smug smile. You put your arms out and he walks into your reach, letting you fiddle with the robes bunched around his waist. He gently swipes a stray bubble from your forehead and asks, “Are you feeling any better?” Nodding, you nuzzle into his hand and his smile grows sweeter. “I’m glad to hear it, even though we…got a tad side-tracked.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not one bit.”
His immediate response makes you laugh once more and he pulls away from you to collect the soaps and oil. Glancing back over his shoulder, he calls out, “I’ll return these to the cabinet then bring you some spare clothes to wear.” After a few moments, he’s true to his word and re-enters the room with a stack of clothes in hand. A warmth spreads through your chest when you realize it’s Qifrey’s clothes. He seems to come to the same realization and fights a blush. “I’ll leave you to get dressed…”
coco: let's create a warm comfortable place for the dragon to nap because qifrey-sensei says magic shouldn't be used to hurt people!
qifrey: i'm about to blast this bitch to kingdom come
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