#I did in fact not stay calm while writing this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coracaodeleao · 1 day ago

Note

Idk if you really take requests like this but I have to share

Deans assistant Viktor and reader, seven minutes in heaven at an academy party and they’re both subby and breathy and all over eachother 🙏🙏

So... this is my first request, be nice y’all!

You might notice from the way I write this I’ve clearly never been invited to this kind of game. I grew up ugly, okay?

What we’ve got here: 4.4k words, way too much plot for what it is, no-name characters, dry humping, a little hand-under-the-pants action, and a kitchen timer ticking away in the background.

Reader is gender-neutral, Viktor uses he/him pronouns, but I kept both of them genitally ambiguous — so whether you’re stroking or fingering him (and he’s doing the same to you), it’s all vibes.

The picture above is because it matches and I like those dirty little quotes I find on Pinterest.

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

How Piltover let a bunch of burnt-out students throw a party on campus is beyond you. But after a good drink — straight from the Undercity, not one of those weak non-alcoholic Topside cocktails — and some very questionable edible sweets, you’d kiss Heimerdinger right on his furry mouth to thank him for approving it.

It hadn’t taken much to convince you to be there. In fact, you practically invited yourself — especially after hearing that everyone was invited.

You even double-checked with the messenger, just to be sure. And yes, it was confirmed:

Everyone currently studying at the Academy was on the guest list.

Including the infamous Dean’s assistant.

You’ve had your eye on him since the moment he rolled his eyes at your — admittedly dumb — question about the Academy’s history.

Since then, you’ve decided you want to make those eyes roll for a whole different reason.

You came to the party with a mission in mind.

But finding him? That was a challenge.

And when you did find him — leaning against a wall, red cup in hand, cane balanced casually in the crook of his elbow — you realized you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

The place was crowded, loud, and full of people going wild. You, on the other hand, were still too sober to deal with any of that.

So you grabbed a drink, took a few laps around the room, and tried to come up with a reason to approach him that didn’t feel creepy.

While also keeping an eye out to see if anyone else had the same idea.

You circle the room once. Then again. You check the food table. Glance at the door. Anything to pretend you’re not stalling.

And he’s still there. Still leaning on the wall like it’s the only thing keeping him from floating off — aloof and untouchable, but not unaware.

His eyes flick to you. Once. Twice. Then they stay.

That’s enough of an invitation for you. So you start walking.

On your way to him, you miss the way he gestures to the person he was talking to. They leave with a few pats to his shoulder — the kind that say good luck, enjoy yourself.

You’re not sure what you expect when you finally reach him. A nod, maybe. A sigh. A quiet excuse to leave.

What you don’t expect is for him to actually stay put.

“Hey,” you say, casual. Too casual. The drink hasn’t hit you enough for this.

Viktor blinks at you. Then, slowly, he tips his head in acknowledgment — not quite a greeting, but enough to say he sees you.

You point to his drink. “Topside or Undercity?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Do I look like I drink Topside wine coolers?”

You smile. “Didn’t want to assume.”

“Assume away.” His voice is low. Calm. A little dry.

You nod and take a sip. Trying not to make it obvious you’re scanning his face like a damn research study.

“So,” you start, leaning lightly on the wall beside him, “are you here for fun? Or are you on assistant duty? Like—taking notes on who throws up first?”

That earns you something — not a laugh, but a soft exhale through his nose. His mouth curves, briefly.

“I was curious,” he says.

“About the party?”

“About what people do when no one’s grading them.”

You hum, trying not to let that line go straight to your stomach.

He shifts his weight slightly, the bottom of his cane tapping once against the wall. His eyes flick toward the crowd, then back to you. “And you?”

You shrug. “I’m here for the chaos.”

He hums again. Not disapproving. Not amused. Just… observing.

A pause.

Too long.

You search for something else to say. Something to keep the conversation going without sounding desperate.

But someone stumbles into your side — a guy carrying two drinks and zero coordination — and you’re forced to take a step back.

By the time you steady yourself, Viktor is already pulling slightly away from the wall, lowering his cane to the ground — a quiet, unmistakable signal.

He’s leaving.

“I should…” he starts.

You nod. Too fast. “Yeah. Of course. Enjoy the party.”

He doesn’t smile. But he doesn’t look away, either.

“Try not to get poisoned,” he says, nodding toward your cup.

You smirk, raising it like a toast. “Already did. That’s the point.”

His eyes linger for a beat longer than they should.

Then he turns and disappears into the crowd.

After that — frankly disappointing — encounter, you try to forget about him. Try to enjoy yourself as much as you can without cringing every time the moment replays in your head.

You spot him again later, across the room.

Your eyes find him before you can stop them — but when he looks back, you quickly turn away.

Someone shouts from the middle of the room:

“Get out now if you don’t wanna play!”

There’s movement around you. Some people laugh and leave. Others stay behind — curious, already buzzing from the drinks.

Viktor is still across from you. Still watching everybody.

“Hand me a pen already!” someone calls out.

“I’m writing the names!”

There’s giggling. Rustling. The sound of paper being folded.

A hat is tap with a dramatic flush and present it to the crowd. "Here it is! The game for today, to help us lose some steam!"

"I hope it's not True or Dare again, last time somebody broke a bone" you heard someone whisper at your back and suddenly you start to regret staying in the room.

There’s a nervous laugh nearby, and someone groans, “Yeah, but that made it way more interesting.”

You force a smile, wishing you were anywhere else — maybe hiding behind the snacks table — but here you are, caught in the middle of it all.

“Who wants to guess what it is?”

A cane rises in the air. All eyes turn to Viktor.

The hat holder rolls their eyes. “Oh yes, the almighty Dean’s assistant himself. Give us a little bit of your all-assistant wisdom.”

Viktor rolls his eyes. You bite your bottom lip at the sight.

He walks to the empty spot in the middle. “It’s Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

The hat holder squeezes their eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

Viktor uses his cane to point toward you. You hold your breath as he gazes in your direction, just behind you. At your reaction, he looks at you quickly before returning to the spot he's pointing it.

“There’s an empty closet there and a timer on the table. You do the math.”

You, like everyone else on your side of the room, turn to see the closet. The door is open and it’s so dark you can’t measure its depth. Looking back at the table, you spot the timer.

Quickly calculating the number of people around, you notice it’s not a lot — and an odd number. You realize you could potentially end up with Viktor there.

You do the math. You’re screwed.

The hat holder slams the hat down on the table. “Alright then! You got it right!” They plop furiously on the couch by the table, crossing their arms. “Because of that, you go first! Pick someone off the hat!”

Viktor presses his lips and shakes his head. “No need. I have someone in mind.”

It’s only after everyone turns to you that you realize he said your name out loud.

The room seems to stop for a moment. The buzz of laughter and chatter fades into an almost tangible silence.

You feel every pair of eyes on you — a mix of surprise, amusement, and that unmistakable spark of anticipation.

Your heart races, your throat tightens. No matter how much you could have drink before, you are a hundred percent sober now. You force a smile, pretending this was exactly what you wanted all along — even though all you want is to disappear.

Viktor keeps his gaze steady on you, that calm, unreadable expression that somehow makes everything feel heavier.

He gives a subtle nod — almost a silent invitation.

You swallow hard and move, trying to steady the shake in your legs.

Someone nearby mutters, “What you think they're going to do?”

"Viktor would probably give they a lecture or something. I doubt he is the type to make out in a closet." other chuckles low, but you’re not sure if it’s encouragement or just teasing.

By his reaction, he heard it too and he walk towards you in a confident stride as if everybody didn't matter to him.

With measured steps, you turn around and goes towards the old, dark closet. Viktor follows close behind, his cane tapping firmly against the floor.

You cast one last glance at the crowd — a mix of grins, whispers, and curious stares. The closet door creaks as you push it open a little wide, swallowing the darkness inside. He steps in after you and closes behind him.

The last thing you see is people excitedly going around the timer to start counting.

There's complete silence in the closet, you realize, once your heart stops racing. It's dark enough you can't see him, so you raise your arm to its full length to measure how much space you have — only for your elbow to jab him in the stomach.

“Ow!” he says. “I get it, you don’t like being here with me — but hitting me? Bit extreme, no?”

You don’t need to see his face to know there’s a smug little smile there. You can hear it in his voice. “Sorry,” you mutter, not entirely sorry. “Didn’t think you were standing that close.”

“I’m not,” he says, a little quieter. “You just have long arms.”

You huff a laugh. “Or you’re just in my personal space.”

There’s a pause. You can almost feel him tilt his head.

“We’re in a closet,” he says, dry. “Personal space is a not a thing here.”

You shift your stance, trying to orient yourself in the dark. You’d spent the whole night circling him like a satellite, rehearsing conversation starters. And now here you are — elbow-deep in his ribs in a closet.

All that because he asked to be you.

You hear him move slightly too — the scrape of a shoe, the soft clink of his cane against the wall. Then nothing.

What?

“Are you…” you start, voice low. “Are you just gonna stand there?”

A pause.

“Hm?” he sounds confused.

You clear your throat, trying to find the right words. “I mean… you picked me. Out of everybody else. You could’ve just pulled a random name from the hat — but you didn’t.”

“I didn’t want to be here with someone like that,” he says softly. Your heart stutters. “You think I’d trust seven minutes in the dark to a stranger?”

Ok, that's a good answer. At least he don't see me as a stranger.

In the dark, he can’t see your wide grin. “I’m flattered, then.”

“Besides…” he adds, voice quieter now. “You looked like you’d bite someone if I didn’t.”

Forget that. He thinks you're a creeper.

You huff a soft laugh, tilting your head toward the sound of his voice — not quite facing him, but close. Close enough that you think he might be holding his breath.

“I’m not that violent,” you murmur, voice low.

“You looked ready to kill someone out there,” he replies, with just the edge of a smile.

“Not kill,” you say. “Maybe… maim.”

Another pause stretches, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels like both of you are waiting. For one of you to tip the balance. Your fingers graze the wall behind you. Not because you need support, but grounding yourself feels smarter than reaching for him too soon.

You take a breath. Then ask — softer this time:

“Why me?”

Viktor doesn’t answer right away. And that says more than if he’d blurted something out. When he finally speaks, it’s slower. Quieter. Like it’s more for him than for you.

“Because I wanted you to say yes.”

That pulls the air from your lungs.

He shifts, barely. The movement makes the air between you stir.

You swallow, throat dry. “And I do. ”

You’re not sure where the boldness comes from — maybe it’s the drinks, maybe it’s the fact that you’re tired of circling this.

He doesn’t answer. Not directly. But you feel the tension radiate from him, feel it coil around your ribs. You hear the faintest sound — a breath caught in his throat.

So you lean in. Just enough for your nose to almost brush his cheek.

“Viktor.”

The way his name leaves your lips — like a secret — makes him shiver. You feel it in the small shift of his body.

“If this was something you wanted to,” you say, “then maybe you should do something to make it worth it.”

You hear him swallow. Then, softly — almost like he’s afraid to ask: “Like what?”

You tilt your head, leaning just slightly toward the sound of his voice.

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “Surprise me.”

His breath catches again, and the space between you shrinks just a little more. You feel the warmth of his body before you touch — like your presence alone is pulling him in.

“…I’ve never done this before,” he whispers.

You raise an eyebrow, even if he can’t see it. “Seven minutes in heaven? Or… closets in general?”

A pause. “This.”

There’s vulnerability in his voice. A flicker of nervous energy. Because now he’s fidgeting. Now he’s talking like he doesn’t know where to look. And that shifts something in you.

You were ready to be devoured. In your imagination, he would be the one in charge, smug and proud like you see him in his Dean's assistant duties. But if he’s not going to do it — if he’s too busy dealing with his own nerves — then someone has to take the lead. And if it has to be you?

Then fine.

You can fake confidence better than anyone.

“Good,” you say. “Then you won’t know if you’re doing it wrong.”

You let your fingers trail up, ghosting the hem of his shirt with the back of your knuckles. You wait a beat. Then another. Long enough that he could move if he wanted to.

He doesn’t.

Except the way his hand lifts — tentatively — and hovers at your hip, not quite touching.

You press just slightly into that space, and that’s all it takes for his fingers to land there, light and trembling.

You tilt your head a fraction closer.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” you murmur — not as a tease, not a threat, just a truth you’re finally saying out loud.

He exhales, shaky. “Are you warning me?”, his way to turn the situation lighter.

You hum, smiling. “Would it make you feel better if I did?”

He doesn’t reply.

But he leans in.

And that’s all the answer you need.

You close the space between you.

The second your lips touch his, it stops being careful.

He kisses you back like he’s been holding back for hours. Maybe longer. There’s nothing slow about it — it’s all heat and breath and too much, too fast. His mouth opens under yours, eager and messy, and it’s not gentle at all. It's clumsy and wet and perfect.

You grunt into his mouth as your hand fists in the front of his shirt, dragging him closer until there’s no space left between you. He stumbles, just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it to hit this hard this fast — but he follows it, follows you, like he can’t not.

His hand grabs at your waist — hard, needy — and his other arm slams against the wall behind you, bracing himself. You heard his cane hitting the floor as he does that, his hold on you now be his only support.

God, he gives so easily.

Your lips part again, wetter this time. Slower. His mouth opens under yours without hesitation now, and you kiss him again — deeper, sloppier, with heat that wasn't there before. Open-mouthed, tongues brushing, teeth barely grazing.

He moans into your mouth — soft, broken — and it feels like he’s unraveling one breath at a time.

You break the kiss for air, just enough to rest your forehead against his. His lips are swollen, parted. His chest rises and falls like he’s just run for miles.

“How was that?” you whisper.

His voice is barely audible, very breathy. “Overstimulating.”

You snort, biting your lip to contain the laugh. “You want me to stop?”

He shakes his head — you feel it more than see it. “Hello no.”

Your thumb brushes his knuckles. His forehead drops gently to your shoulder.

“You okay?” you ask.

“I think so.” Pause. “You taste like trouble and sugar.”

You grin. “You taste like Undercity whiskey and bad decisions.”

He huffs a laugh against your collarbone. “Sounds about right.”

His forehead rests gently against your shoulder, breath shaky but steadying. You can feel the heat radiating from him, a warmth that contrasts with the cold metal of his cane still resting against the wall behind him.

You want so badly to keep this going, but as both of you catch your breath, the silence opens up to the noise of the timer still going on the other side of the door.

You whisper, almost shyly, “Do you think... we’re close to seven minutes?”

He lifts his head from your shoulder, still breathless. “I am that bad of a kisser?” A soft, teasing laugh escapes him. “Already trying to get away from me?”

You scoff under your breath, smiling despite the ache between your legs. “If I wanted to leave, I wouldn’t still be all over you.”

He hums like he’s trying to believe that. His hand squeezes your side gently, almost unsure. You’re both still so close, still tangled — but something about that brief interruption makes the air shift. Not cooler, not colder — just heavier.

You’re still holding him. He’s still pressed to you. And neither of you is done.

To keep things going, you slide your hand down his side, slow and deliberate, grounding him. You can feel how wound up he still is — every breath sharp, every little shift of your touch making his whole body twitch like he’s barely holding it together.

Your lips brush along the line of his jaw — not a kiss this time, just the warm drag of your mouth across his skin, breathing him in — and you feel him lean into it, breathing you out.

Without needing to say anything else, your fingers slide slowly along his waist, under the fabric of his shirt, tracing light patterns that make him tense and shiver. His body leans into your touch, hesitant but wanting more.

You lean in, let your mouth hover near his ear.

“Is this okay?” you mutter against his hair.

“I—” he exhales. “Yes.”

He shakes a little as you brush against a few hairs in his belly, the acknowledge of his happy trail makes you feel even hotter. You contour his bellybutton with your nails and he inhales sharply at this.

Taking a step closer, feet between his own, your palm rests in his belly. A little sweaty maybe because our actions, maybe because his nerves. Either way your doing, and you are so happy for this.

Your hand slips lower — past his ribs, along the curve of his waist— slow and steady, like you’re mapping every reaction he gives you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you feel him go taut — not pulling away, not resisting, just holding his breath like he’s bracing for impact.

You pause there, not because you’re unsure, but because you want to feel him fall apart piece by piece. Your fingers tease the edge of his waistband, slipping just barely underneath, enough to feel the heat radiating from him, enough to make him tremble.

He makes a sound — barely a breath, but desperate — and it sends a pulse straight through your own core.

“Still okay?” you whisper, your voice rough now, thick with your own desire.

He nods quickly — too quickly — and lets out a shaky, “Yes.”

“You’re okay,” you whisper, your hand sliding further beneath his pants, brushing over warm skin. “You’re doing so good.”

That makes him groan — quiet, but wrecked — and he leans into you harder, mouth seeking yours again like he’s starving for it. This time, the kiss is filthier. No pretense. Just his open mouth against yours, his tongue going so wild that he marks around lips with his spit.

Your thigh slips between his legs, and you feel him gasp against your lips, his hips stuttering ever so slightly toward you. It's involuntary — needy in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck,” he breathes, so quietly, like he doesn’t mean for it to escape. His hands finally grip your waist properly, clinging now.

You pull back enough to look at him — or try to, but it’s still too dark. Doesn’t matter. You can hear everything in the way he breathes.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

He shakes his head instantly. “Please don’t.”

You smile — not smug, not cruel — just impossibly turned on. Your body is buzzing, aching with how badly you want this, how badly you want him to keep sounding like that. And when your hand finally moves again — fingers gliding lower, into the heat of him — he gasps, sharp and broken, like he’s just been punched.

The sound he makes should not be that good. It goes straight through you, clenching low in your stomach, making your thighs press together with instinctive urgency. Your own composure is fraying now, the heat between your legs unbearable. You’re just as far gone as he is — maybe worse — and it hits you all at once how badly you want to feel him lose control.

You lean into him, your mouth brushing his ear as you whisper, “You’re so fucking sensitive.”

His response is a wrecked whimper, his hips twitching toward your hand like he doesn’t know how not to chase it. And gods, that need — that raw, unfiltered need — makes something inside you crack wide open.

You press your hips against his thigh without meaning to, grinding slowly, your own breath catching as you finds friction. It's instinctive, automatic — you're not leading anymore, not exactly. You're just reacting, both of you caught in something too hot and fast to contain.

His hands, still hesitant, slide along your waist and settle low on your hips. He pulls you closer, just enough that your bodies align fully, and the contact makes you both gasp at once.

“Can I…?” he starts, barely able to finish the sentence. You feel his hands twitch, unsure.

You don't even know what he is asking, your mind too foggy. “Yes, please”

His hands go under your shirt, way faster that you did before and the way and nearly brings you to your knees when his cold hands touched your burning body. Your body arches into his hands, desperate for more. And for a moment, it’s you who’s breathless, you who’s needy, you who’s lost in the dark and the feel of him everywhere.

His touch emboldens you, and you move your hand slowly on him, watching him shudder under your fingers. He melts into your touch like he’s made for it — his hips stuttering, mouth falling open against your shoulder. And when he moans, it sounds like he’s about to come apart right there.

Your name falls from his lips — not in the demanding he said to bring you to the close but it a newer, melted and only yours way — and it makes your legs shake again. Your grip tightens in his shirt. Your kisses grow sloppier, hungrier, both of you panting against each other’s mouths like you’ve run out of air.

The moment folds in on itself — breath, friction, heat — and you’re not sure who’s taking what from who anymore.

His hand finds its way between your thighs now, guided by your own, and when his fingers press against you through your clothes, you choke on your breath and collapse forward, forehead pressed to his shoulder as you whimper.

He freezes, overwhelmed by your reaction, and for a second you both just breathe, clinging to each other like you might break apart without the contact.

“You okay?” he whispers, voice trembling.

You nod into his neck. “Yes—fuck—don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

His fingers keep moving, clumsy but eager, and the pressure is enough to make you grind into his hand without shame. You feel like you’re unraveling, like he’s pulling pleasure out of you with nothing but nervous touches and the way he keeps whispering your name like it’s holy.

You’re not leading anymore. You’re chasing the feeling now, hips rolling with abandon, your own sounds mixing with his in the stifling dark. And when you slide your hand down again and go faster, he lets out a noise — high, helpless, half-moan, half-prayer — and you know he’s close.

Your mouth finds his again, sloppy and open and almost cruel with how much you want from him. You kiss him like you're trying to swallow the sounds he makes, like you can feel him fall apart through your teeth.

And when your hand moves just right, just hard enough, he shatters.

He gasps your name, half-choked, hips bucking wildly into your palm as he comes, biting down on your shoulder in a desperate attempt to stay quiet. The heat of it spreads across your hand, and the way he whimpers through it — shaking, breath hitching — sends you over.

You press your face into his throat and break with him, trembling and raw, thighs tightening around his wrist as you come apart all over his fingers. It’s overwhelming — loud, hot, messy — and the fact that it’s him, that he did this to you like this, with shaking hands and lips swollen from your mouth—

It ruins you.

Breathing hard, clothes rumpled, hands still shoved into places they shouldn’t be. You don’t move — can’t, really. He’s slumped against you like his legs might give out, and you’re not doing much better.

Your heart’s pounding in your ears. Your hand’s still wet. His fingers are still inside your pants. Neither of you says a word.

And then — from the other side of the door — the timer finally goes off. A sharp, cheerful ding that feels completely out of place.

#arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader smut #viktor x reader

42 notes · View notes

wildestaugust · 2 days ago

Text

Daylight — Conrad Fisher

Warnings: angst, lots of agnst, slow burn.

Word count: 6.7k.

A/N: First time writing for 'The Summer I Turned Pretty'. I have an idea for a follow up, but I'd love to know what you guys think of this. Thanks!

Stanford parties were not that frequent. In fact, it was finals week so it was out of the blue that one of the fraternities organized one, exactly in the middle of such week.

She was dragged by one of her friends to attend. As much as she was into having some fun, she was extremely tired.

For almost two full months, her junior year documentary presentation had taken a toll on her day-to-day schedule as she would work on it at unspoken hours, at a point where even her friend would beg her to take a break.

"Come on! We should celebrate that this semester is practically over." Alessia, her closest friend, said enthusiastically. "You, specially you, deserve a break."

"I know." She said as she put on some lipstick. "To be honest, if I had another friend that wasn't as convincing as you, I'd bail on you even when i'm ready."

"And that's why you've got me." She replied cheekily. "Who knows, maybe we meet people we've never met."

"That's what meeting people means." She replied chuckling. "Let's go before I regret this."

"Well... I wouldn't let it happen, Miss Little Boring." Alessia mentioned laughing.

Stanford had been the dream ever since she first touched a camera. Growing up in New York meant chaos—subways at midnight, sirens blending into lullabies, her parents' lives scheduled down to the second. Palo Alto, by contrast, felt like breathing for the first time. The calm suited her. After her freshman year, her dad surprised her with a small place of her own—not far from campus, but far enough to feel like it belonged to her, not the school. It was quiet, a little sun-drenched studio where she could edit all night and nobody would knock on her door.

As she drove around the frat house, they quickly realized there was more people than they thought at first.

"Do people not want to study or did they just give up entirely for their finals?" She joked as she turned off the engine.

"I guess they gave up." Alessia replied.

As they walked into the house, she thought she was underdressed as she saw some girls in heels and mini dresses.

Alessia noticed her looking at her clothes. She wore a midi crème skirt that went a few inches below the knee, paired with a green cashmere sweater.

"You look fine. Don't worry." She assured.

They went straight to the table where various bottles of alcohol stood. She poured a cup of whiskey for herself, while Alessia opted for some vodka.

Barely minutes after, they saw Agnes. Agnes was Alessia's cousin who happened to be in pre-med at Stanford as well.

Agnes immediately introduced them to some of her friends, most of whom were in the same program as hers.

"There's another one of my friends who you guys haven't met, but it's likely that he bailed for the night." She chuckled. "But anyways, how's it going?"

"It's alright. Definitely not as anxiety-inducing as your program for sure."

"Speak for yourself. I'm fully drained from this semester." she replied. "Agnes, I don't know how you're pulling it off with the med stuff."

"If you give up sleeping, you're set." She joked. "Are you still editing your documentary?"

"Until the day we do the presentation, yes." She said. "I just follow most of feedback my teacher gives me."

"You see why I had to drag her? She'd have stayed home long enough to edit it all from scratch." Alessia said chuckling as the girls laughed.

They were talking about different things, until they mentioned the upcoming summer break.

"Hey, what are you guys up to for these months?" She asked. "My parents still don't know where we'll go."

"I was thinking on going to Big Sur." Agnes replied. "But I might come back earlier to take an extra credit."

"Oh. Well, I'm staying in Boston but I could join you there too." Alessia suggested. "Hey, don't your parents have a house in Cape Cod? Aren't you gonna be there?"

"Cape Cod? Isn't that where Taylor Swift once cosplayed being a Kennedy?" Agnes added.

Most of her summers were spent in their Cape Cod residency which had been a wedding gift from her paternal grandmother to her parents. For the last year, her father chose to renovate it although it had been taking more time than expected to be done.

"Yes. And yes... but they're renovating it, so we can't use it for the summer, unfortunately." She explained. "I'll probably stay here for a few weeks before going back to New York."

They kept talking and drinking. It had been such a long semester that she hadn't had time to properly met some of Agnes's friends. They were mostly med students too, and really fun to be around.

At one point, the music started to wear her down a bit. It wasn't exactly due to the loudness —though it was quite loud— but because her head was still half-stuck in other things. She hadn't mentioned to Alessia, but a few weeks back she found out her Dad's leukemia diagnosis.

It was something that she kept to herself and, through her documentary work, she managed to dissociate a bit from the reality they faced.

She hadn't thought about what was happening back home until she was too comfortable at the party. Maybe it was the guilt of feeling like she should be there, even though she had to attend college no matter what.

She slipped away from the circle of girls without making a big deal, whispering something about having to go to the bathroom, although she didn't go looking for one.

She walked up the stairs instead.

Once on the second floor, everything felt much quieter, as if the music had simply faded. The first door she opened led to a dimly lit room, empty except for a record player in the corner that wasn't playing anything and a window cracked just enough to let the night air in. It smelled like someone had been there earlier—cologne lingering in the fabric of a jacket tossed over the arm of the couch.

She walked in and closed the door just behind her. She needed that second to breathe properly, to get her chest back to normal.

"Are you also exhausted of pretending to have fun too?" a voice said, quiet and warm.

She turned —confused but not alarmed. A brunette boy saw in the corner of the room, half-shadowed, with one leg stretched out and a cup resting on his knee. His expression wasn't smug or performative; it was casual, like he'd been here a while and wasn't surprised to find someone else needing the same kind of escape.

She didn't recognize him, which led her to think he wasn't a film student. Stanford had a small acceptance rate, yet she obviously didn't know everyone. He looked her age—maybe a little older. Soft brown hair, sleepy eyes, and something hard to read in his face. He wasn't trying to flirt, which could've annoyed her. No, he was kind of an observant. At a point where it felt as if he was taking a break from something heavier than the party as well.

"I wouldn't say I'm pretending," she replied walking away from the door, getting close to where he sat. "But I figure I did sneak up here like an idiot."

"That makes two of us." He nodded slightly. "I bailed mid-beer pong. I've been burning my head with notes and bullet points, for god knows how many quizzes, that I didn't have enough energy anymore."

She chuckled. "So instead of leaving, you came up to sneak in someone else's room?"

"I think it's the room of this friend of Agnes. She's a friend." he said. "I think the guy already left for the summer. The record player doesn't work, by the way. I tried."

There was a big silence. Not precisely awkward, but rather filled with an interesting calmness.

"I'm friends with her cousin! Are you in pre-med too?"

He grinned faintly, not looking at her as he took another sip. "Unfortunately. I'm Conrad."

She raised a brow. "Ah. You're the one who she thought had bailed on her earlier" She added, "I'm Eloise."

"Guilty." He chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Eloise." He added with a small smirk. "I got through the kitchen because I hadn't been to one of these parties in so long that I almost got lost."

It caught her attention how soft-spoken he was. As a few thoughts lingered on her mind, she stood there, unsure if her presence was interrupting the peacefulness he was seeking. "Well... if you want me to leave your moody little hideout, just tell me."

He shook his head. "You're not annoying me."

She paused to think for a bit longer than before, with the room being in complete silence. If it hadn't been for the way they'd have been speaking to each other in those few minutes, it would've been extremely awkward.

She ended up sitting near him. "It's weirdly pleasant in here. I kind of forgot what silence feels like."

"Silence is underrated" he added.

She looked at him again, detailing him for half a second too long. "Are you always this cryptic?"

He smiled suppressing a short laugh, not entirely looking at her eyes. "No. Just tonight, I guess."

His voice hinted at something that was holding him back. Perhaps, difficult enough that he'd rather leave it at that. Either way, she knew better than to ask about it.

She looked at him while leaning her back against the wall. A respectable distance between both. "I won't ask you, don't worry. It is... none of my business."

Conrad looked back at her then, like he hadn't expected that. He once was made out to be egotistical for thinking about his feelings without being too vocal about it, but in that moment he just felt peace.

"Thanks." There was another pause. Longer, but quieter.

She looked up at the ceiling. "You ever think about how exhausting it is to always be fine? I mean, no one is ever truly happy."

He turned his head slowly, eyes meeting hers now—really meeting them. He looked into her light brown eyes for what felt like a lifetime. For the first time, something cracked open in his expression. Simple recognition.

"Yeah. A lot." he said. "I won't ask details but, is there something on your mind that's not letting you be at peace?"

She didn't smile. She gave him a light nod in understanding. She sat with it. And that—somehow—felt much more intimate than anything either of them had said or done.

The air between them felt still. For a moment, neither was a student, or someone trying to forget something, or someone trying to prove anything. They were just... there.

A knock took both of them out that silence they were enjoying.

The door cracked open, spilling light and laughter into the room.

"There you are" Alessia peeked in, eyes flicking between them. "I've been looking all over for you. Are you...? oh, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

Conrad blinked like someone waking up. The quiet bubble popped.

"It's okay," she said quickly, standing. "I needed air and I got in the first room I found. I'll come down in a sec."

Alessia nodded, eyeing the boy in the corner just long enough to make a mental note.

"Alright. Don't disappear on me" she said cheekily before closing the door again.

She turned back at him. For a second, it felt like they might say something else —maybe say goodbye properly, maybe not—.

But he just gave her a quiet look. Not cold. Not warm. Just something that would sit in her mind for days.

"I should go," she said.

He nodded once. "See you around."

She left without asking his number.

And she didn't think she'd see him again. Not when she stayed for another hour and he was yet to come down. Certainly, this boy she had no idea about, made her feel like she wanted to know a bit more. Out of the curiosity to see past that mystery look that hung over him.

"You didn't tell me you were seeing someone." Alessia said as they pulled up inside the parking garage at Eloise's apartment building.

"Well, because I'm not seeing anyone. I told you, I was trying to go somewhere quiet and when I went into that room, that guy was there." She explained turning off the engine. "He was kind of dissociating as well so he let me

stay. He's a friend of Agnes."

"Oh, I see. What's his name?" She asked.

"Conrad. I don't know his last name, but he was nice." She added.

"Well, at least you didn't have a bad night." She said, vaguely referring to some of the boys they'd encounter in previous parties. Most of the time they'd deal with disrespectful guys.

"Yeah. But anyways, I need to get some sleep." She said while they walked to Alessia's car, which was parked right in Eloise's 2nd parking spot. "Let me know when you get to the dorm. I'll be waiting."

"I know! See you tomorrow." she said as they hugged.

Once she saw her turn on the car, she walked inside the elevator. She was tired, but at least it had been a nice evening, specially when she managed to get her mind off of so many things.

She thought about Conrad for a bit, knowing his face would be hard to not think about when she went to bed.

It was finally the last day of school, which meant she was about to do the presentation of her documentary —based on the history of California— in front of her entire class.

She sat next to her teacher as some of classmates —and other people— settled into chairs. She tried not to look at the crowd, at least not directly. But then the door creaked open near the back.

Agnes walked in, whispering something to the guy beside her. He nodded quietly, sliding into the seat next to Alessia.

She froze.

It was him.

The boy from the room.

Same soft brown hair, same withdrawn calm, but it was different now. In public, he looked less like a stranger and more like a person who had unknowingly anchored something in her. Conrad. His name came back to her like a skipped beat.

He wore a white shirt under a blue crewneck sweater with some jeans while his hair was slightly messy, falling just above his eyebrows like he'd run a hand through it on his way in. It gave him the look of someone too focused to care and too effortlessly attractive for it to matter.

He didn't notice her at first since Agnes was talking to him about some internship. And then, right before the lights dimmed and the documentary began to play, his eyes met hers across the room.

She had turned back to see everyone that was already sitting, when she met his greenish-blue eyes. It felt as if time no longer mattered as the game of longing stares seemed to began.

He didn't smile, but he didn't look away either. She was flustered as she turned her head back to the screen, not realizing he had a small smile on his lips as he looked.

It took him by surprise how natural it came off, moving on his seat hoping Agnes hadn't noticed, otherwise he'd be subjected to her teasing questions on what was he smiling about.

It had been almost two years since he felt something for someone. After all, he had been in love just once and that was Belly.

Although the memory of that relationship no longer pained him —and Jeremiah's comments about her when they'd speak on the phone didn't bother him—, he drifted away from pursuing any romantic relationship.

Through therapy, he learned how to work out his feelings without pushing them in his mind and accumulating them. Still, he felt weird about doing the whole dating thing all over again.

As the credits rolled in, applaudes broke out. Not loud, but genuine. Some of her classmates turned towards her, offering small praises about the documentary that some deemed as a 'love letter to California'. Her teacher hugged.

"It was beautiful" she whispered. "Congratulations, Ms. Parker."

She nodded, her heart still pounding, but with the relief that all the effort had been worth it. All the anxiety, all the hours in Premiere Pro, everything had paid off.

As another student prepared to screen his documentary, her teacher told her she was done so she could leave. After gathering her stuff, she walked towards the exit, looking for her friends.

She didn't see neither Agnes nor Alessia, so she walked out hoping they would be outside.

Outside the auditorium, she turned to one of the benches, spotting him. He was standing as if he was waiting for something or someone.

She walked over slowly, part of her unsure if this counted as brave or foolish.

"Hey," she said, voice low.

"Hey" he replied. The same quiet tone from the night of the party.

"I didn't know you'd be here." She smiled. "Did you enjoy it?"

He shrugged slightly. "Well, Agnes said there was free coffee." They both laughed. "It was really nice, congrats."

She laughed before smiling. "Thank you, it meant a lot to me that everyone loved it."

Silence came between them once again, but not the uncomfortable type of silence. It was the one where neither wanted to be the first to move.

Finally, she asked, "So... how have you been?"

He looked at her—really looked at her. No smile, no empty compliment. Just something careful in his eyes, like he was afraid to say too much and mean all of it.

"Drowning in homework. Thankfully it's all over now, so I get the entire summer to do nothing around here." He said chuckling. "You?"

"Working on this and worrying about some other stuff. Thank god we don't come back until September." She said laughing.

Before he could respond to what she said, Alessia appeared at her side with a glowing grin.

"Oh my god, you killed it." she said "I think you will be the best director ever, please don't forget about me when you win an Oscar."

Agnes joined thems smiling. "You should've heard Alessia gasp like she was in a theater," she said to Conrad, bumping her shoulder lightly into his.

He smiled faintly, more to himself than anyone else.

"Thanks for coming," she told them both. She meant it. She hadn't expected it to matter, but it did. Maybe more than it should have.

Agnes looked between her and Conrad, perceptive in a casual way. "We were gonna grab something to eat before I have to run. You guys coming?"

Alessia nodded eagerly. "Yes, please. I'm starving."

Conrad glanced at Agnes, then back at her. "You guys go ahead. I have to go back to my apartment in a bit.

Agnes arched a brow at him but didn't argue. "Fine. Eloise?"

"Yeah... I have to do some other stuff so I'll have lunch at home." She explained. "See you guys."

Alessia mouthed something vaguely teasing as she was dragged away by Agnes —who tried not to laugh as she picked up on whatever that was going on between both of them—, but Eloise pretended not to notice.

Now it was just them again.

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, eyes flicking to the floor for a second before lifting again. "You're kind of mysterious, you know."

Conrad looked like he might deny it, but then changed his mind. "I'm kind of figuring things out."

She nodded slowly. "Me too."

A few students brushed past them on the way out, but the space between them didn't shift.

After a beat, she tilted her head. "Want to walk with me for a bit?"

He didn't smile, but something in his expression softened. "Yeah. I do."

They walked out into the bright California sun. Not touching, not speaking for a moment, just walking. Slowly. Like maybe neither of them was in a rush to get to wherever they were supposed to be next.

The campus paths were nearly empty now, just a few scattered students trailing in the distance or perched on benches in post-presentation haze. The sun cast long shadows, and the breeze pulled at the edges of her jacket.

"You're from here?" She asked.

"No, I'm from Boston." He said. "I was at Brown for a bit and then transferred here."

"Oh. Is there a particular reason why you transferred?"

"Leaving Massachusetts was a good catch." She chuckled as he spoke. "With a family like mine, you'd be saying the same. How about you?"

"I was born and raised in New York." She replied. "I almost joined Columbia, but Stanford was my dream for as long as I've wanted to study film."

"That's nice." He said softly.

They walked side by side, their footsteps in sync without meaning to be. Not talking, not needing to.

She could feel the silence again—not the kind from the party, heavy and reflective—but something easier now. The silence of two people who didn't mind just existing near each other.

At one point, she glanced over. "By the way, do you always do that?"

"Do what?" he asked, his tone still soft but confused.

"Disappear into rooms at parties. Then show up again at people's screenings out of nowhere." She explained cheekily. "I'm not mad, I just find it odd."

He looked at her sideways, and for the first time, something close to a smirk curved his mouth. "Only when I'm trying to keep the mystery alive."

She smiled at that. Not a big one. Just enough for him to notice.

They stopped at a corner of the quad, where the path forked toward different buildings.

She pulled out her phone without thinking. "In case you want to keep the act going..."

He raised a brow.

"You know," she added, trying to sound casual. "Disappear again, then randomly text me something cryptic at 2 a.m."

Conrad reached into his back pocket, pulling out his own phone. "I can work with that."

They exchanged numbers with no ceremony. No awkward hovering.

Before she could say anything else, he pocketed his phone and looked at her. Not intensely, not dramatically, just long enough for her to feel like he saw her again. Still.

"Are you doing anything this summer?" he asked. "I might stay here, so I'm preparing for a bunch of nothingness."

She chuckled. "Well, I'll go back to New York in August. I'll be spending the entire month here, maybe we can hang out before boredom tries to strike us."

"I think so too." He replied. "Well, I gotta go but it was great seeing you."

"Likewise." She replied.

And just like that, he was walking away.

Not fast. Not slow. Just enough to make her wonder when the next time would be.

The next couple of days went by in a flash. She went out occasionally to the movies or to do grocery shopping, but overall she stayed home doing practically nothing.

"Honey, is nice to see you." Said Mark, her father, as she was on FaceTime with her parents. "How's the summer going?"

"Great. I can't wait to see you guys next month." She smiled.

Her father looked healthy, even when she knew that the illness was inside of him and it was hard to tackle. She wondered how he had the energy to still smile at her like that, while she tried to pretend that none of it was real and, somehow, things would go back to normal.

"I know!" Her mom said smiling. "You know, we were thinking on going to The Hamptons while you're here."

"Yeah, what do you think, Hon? I made sure to get your room repainted since it still had the princess wallpaper." Mark added with an enthusiastic smile.

"Oh... I like the idea. But are the doctors fine with you not being nearer?" She questioned.

"Yeah. They have people over there as well, so I'll still get my treatment there." He explained. "We'll be fine. I'll be fine." Her father had a way of making her believe him, even when he knew he wasn't being entirely honest.

"Fine. I guess I'll pack my bathing suits." She smiled.

She spoke with them for over an hour before settling in her bedroom as she began playing a rom-com on the TV.

One could she chose to do nothing, as Agnes and Alessia ended going to the Big Sur trip, but she ended up not going just in case she had to leave earlier for New York.

The downside of being on her own, was that she'd check her phone from time to time waiting to see a text.

She hadn't heard from him since the day of the presentation. Not even on the day she dropped the girls at the airport, when Agnes swiftly mentioned that he was "probably driving up the coast with a podcast and a protein bar." It was okay, she said to herself. It was just a party, just a documentary, just a shared silence in a borrowed room.

Still, she checked her phone more often than she liked to admit. It made her feel pathetic.

As the night settled in, and the credits began rolling —she had seen The Holiday for the millionth time—, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth as she had eaten a bit too much of caramel popcorns.

Her phone was face-down as she went to grab it. It buzzed once.

She flipped it, half expecting it to be Alessia or her dad asking what else she wanted in her bedroom for when she came back,

Instead, it was an unknown number calling her.

"Hello?" She spoke.

"Hey. How are you?" That voice. Her heart stopped for a second—just enough to feel it—and then started again. She knew who it was.

"Oh, hi!" She replied. "I'm fine. I thought you'd chicken out."

"Me? A chicken? I wasn't born that day." He teased. "What are you up to tonight?"

"Why? Are we crashing a party to borrow another room?" She replied with a bit of banter.

"I guess you'd enjoy that." He said. "I ordered some food, I'll be watching one of my Mom's favorite films."

"Oh. Well, I spent the last two hours watching The Holiday and I'll do a little something for dinner." She mentioned. "What was your Mom's favorite film?"

"It Happened One Night." He sweetly mentioned, reminiscing on the many summers where she'd watch it as soon as they'd arrive at their Cousins house. "She had this tradition with her best friend Laurel, who's kind of an aunt to me, to watch it on the first day they arrived to our summer house."

She could feel both the melancholy and the endearing warmth with which he spoke about his mom's tradition. She could tell by the weight of those words just how much his mom meant to him.

"That's sweet. And that's objectively a very nice film." She added. "You guys have a summer house?"

"Yeah. It's this house in Cousins that my maternal grandfather left to my mom and my aunt when he passed away, but my brother and I got it after she passed." He explained, without elaborating on the heavier details like the tension with his Dad or the fact that he had his first love in that house.

"I've never been there." She said. "Well, my parents have a Hamptons house, but where I've spent many summers is in our Cape Cod house, which my grandma gave them when they got married." She sweetly remembered her childhood running around that house.

"Nice. Are you going there this summer?"

"We're going to The Hamptons. With college, it's been a while since I went, so it's a bit exciting to go back." She smiled. "By the way, I had no idea you had a brother!"

He softly laughed. Talking about Jeremiah was bittersweet at first, but he could enjoy that, in the last few months, they were in a much better place and what happened surrounding Belly was way past them.

"Yes. I've got a younger brother, his name is Jeremiah." He explained. "He goes to Finch with his girlfriend, who's the daughter of my mom's best friend."

He immediately regretted mentioning that. What would she think of him, if he told her that he used to date the same girl?

"That's interesting." She found it endearing. "Would you say they always liked each other? considering you're saying her Mom was very close to yours, so I guess she was around a lot."

Conrad had two options; either he spilled all that happened, or he keeps it simple to avoid saying something weird.

Understandably, admitting Jere and Belly were always meant for each other felt weird, but the truth was that they probably were. He no longer felt that romantic attraction towards, he barely saw her —although she'd occasionally text on his birthday or to send him pictures with Jere— and he learned to let go of the past in a healthy way.

"Yes. I think they've had that complicity since they were kids." He suggested.

"How cute. Well, I'm an only child." She said. "I did ask for a sibling during one Christmas, but it never came."

"I figured. You have the energy of an only child." He said. "In a good way."

"I get that a lot. Don't worry." She assured.

"Well, my delivery is almost here." He began. "But I wonder if you had any plans for tomorrow. If you're free, what do you say about going to my favorite coffee shop?"

It was no brainer.

"I'd be delighted. Let's go in the afternoon, unless you're a morning person." She smiled.

"Afternoon sounds perfect." He replied. "Well. I hope you have a great night."

"Likewise. Goodnight, Conrad." She sweetly said before he hung up.

Conrad sighed softly as he put his hands on his face. He couldn't believe he was actually going on a date, his first one in god knows how long.

The next morning went by smoothly. He woke up to run around for an hour, he grabbed something to eat at local shop, and got to his place to shower and get ready for the rest of day.

He had another date before seeing Eloise, maybe partly being the reason why he even had the guts to ask her out.

"Conrad Fisher?" He looked up, seeing a middle aged woman holding up a clipboard. "Dr. Morris is ready to see you."

"Thanks." He spoke as he got up.

For the last year, he had been seeing his therapist twice a month. It had been Laurel who helped him find one through one of her colleagues, whose wife happened to be one.

"Hello, Conrad." The woman said grinning as he sat in front of her. "How have you been?"

Dr. Caroline Morris had met him while he still struggled to open up about his mother's death. It was a great feeling for her that he had progressed positively since their very first appointment.

"It's been great. I'm finally done with this semester too." He said.

"Nice. Last time we spoke you were talking about maybe reaching out more often to your family. Did you?" She asked.

"Well, I've been texting Jere from time to time." He admitted. "And Laurel is apparently coming next week on her book tour, so I promised I'd take her for dinner."

"Oh that's nice. I really loved her book." She mentioned. Conrad had gifted her a signed copy that Laurel had sent. "I'd gladly attend if she ends up coming."

"Yeah, it'll probably be at The Underline." He said, referring to a small bookstore that wasn't that far from the medical center they were at the moment.

"Nice." She smiled. "And what about girls? Or am I still your only constant date?" He laughed at her joke before shaking his head.

"Well, I'm actually going on a date after our session." He said. "She's really pretty."

"Oh! that's wonderful, Conrad." She said with a lot of happiness. "Tell me all about it."

"I met her a few weeks ago at this party. I was actually drifting a bit from everyone and she walked into the same room I was." He began. "I think we were both trying to get somewhere quiet, and we just talked for a bit before she left, and then when I saw her again I asked for her number."

"Oh. That's interesting. I suppose you're getting to know her."

"Yes. But... I have this weird feeling because I'm attracted to her, but I don't want to get too close or else I'll get hurt."

"Con... We've been through this before." She warned. "You can't control nor hold back your feelings due to past experiences... How much time has it been since you and..."

"Belly." He said, finishing the sentence. "Almost four years since we left things for good. And I think I've seen her about five... six times since that." He sighed before continuing "I no longer have feelings for her, but that experience... I don't know If I could handle another disappointment."

"Well, you can." She replied. "We are all capable, within our own boundaries, to manage our emotions. And you definitely have shown that you're capable of it."

He wasn't speaking. It was rather his face the one who spoke for him.

"I tell you what. Why don't you talk me through how you'd want things to go with this girl? Give me everything that you've thought about." She suggested an exercise.

"Okay... We go on our date tomorrow and it goes fine. We talk and talk, and we keep hanging out until she leaves to visit her parents in New York." He began. "And we just keep in touch, and hopefully we date on our last college year."

"Well, don't be afraid in getting to know her." She smiled. "I want you to not be afraid to live life on your own terms due to a bad experience a few years ago."

He was out of the clinic about half an hour later. He drove around town —as he waited until it was time for the date— while he kept thinking on what they talked about during therapy.

As his mind wandered about her, his phone began buzzing.

"Hey!" She spoke. "How are you?"

"Hi. I'm great!" He replied.

"Nice. Hey, could you send me the location to where we are meeting up? I kind of forgot to ask last night." She explained.

"Sure. Do you need me to pick you up?"

"No, don't worry! I'll see you there." She assured.

As soon as she hung up, he sent her the location. Thankfully for him, she mentioned she didn't live that far so they were about five minutes away from each other.

While Conrad drove thinking intensely about her, Eloise could barely think as she approached the coffee place. It had been long since she had a date, and although she kept telling herself everything was casual, something about Conrad felt a bit more special.

She parked in front of the place and, as she got out of the car, she spotted him getting out of the car as well.

He saw her as well and smiled before speeding up to greet her.

"Hi." She said as they hugged.

She felt the warmth of him on that hug. it was the kind of hug that would last a long time, one of those hugs that wraps around you like a warm blanket.

As they walked inside the place, Conrad was kind enough to pull a chair for her while he sat right in front. Their table was at the back of the place, so they were at a much quieter area in comparison to the other tables.

They talked, a little. About nothing.

How finals went. How weird it was that campus had emptied out so quickly. A brief tangent about Agnes' obsession with black-and-white films. She mentioned her excitement to go back to New York.

"That place still feel like home?" he asked.

She glanced over at him, surprised by the question. He, of course, was oblivious to why she wanted to go back there.

"Sometimes," she said. "But mostly it just feels like going back to my childhood and all the beautiful memories I still hold from that time. And I don't want to take things for granted that, perhaps, I'll regret in the future."

Conrad nodded once, but didn't say anything at first.

"I understand. I used to live with that regret." He admitted, before swiftly changing the topic of conversation. "By the way, I didn't want to forget saying how nice you look."

A short smile formed on his lips as she looked a bit flustered from such unexpected compliment.

"...Thanks." She smiled. "You look nice too. I like the hair."

A few minutes later, the waiter walked towards them to bring their order. Conrad was having a green juice with a bagel, while Eloise preferred an avocado sandwich with coke zero.

They had a bite of each other's food while they spoke about what they liked the most about California, given it had become their home away from home.

"I love everything. Walking by the beach, driving around with no traffic... is everything I've wanted." She said. "And I think my dream is moving into one of those west atheton houses, having that nice garden and maybe kids running around." She explained. "I grew up in a New York townhouse and believe me, It was a bit isolating being on my own."

He smiled as she spoke. His mother came into his mind as she spoke about wanting a family in the future. Susannah would always go on about wanting him to marry someone who treated family like he did.

"I must say I grew up differently." He began. "Jeremiah and I not only had each other, but the kids of my mom's best friend became our best friends since we were born." He thought about Steven and Belly. How long was it since he spoke to Steven? "Steven is my childhood best friend, and then there's Belly..."

"...Jeremiah's girlfriend." She said. "How nice it is that you all grew up together."

"Yes. Until you go to college and then calls become a little less constant." He admitted. "Either way, I guess i'm grateful I had other kids to annoy my mom. Did you annoy yours?"

"Well, my Dad is just a couple of years older than my mom. When she got pregnant, he says he was really excited because he had assumed at that point that he wouldn't have children." She started. "And so when I was born, you can only imagine how easy I'd have it to get whatever I wanted." She laughed.

She remembered the many silly arguments between her parents. Her mom would argue with her dad that he couldn't get her whatever she wanted just because she cried.

"So... Actually, my mom would get annoyed with me because she was the one building character for me, while my Dad told her he didn't bring a daughter into the world to not give her whatever she wanted."

"I mean, your father wasn't wrong." He replied grinning softly. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at her.

"Yes. That's why he's the best." She said.

They spoke for a little while before deciding to leave, not before Conrad took the tab —much to her insistence on paying—. They settled on seeing each other again the following week, mainly Eloise's idea.

"So... see you around." She said.

While they hugged, he held a bit longer onto her. Just as they separated, his eyes fixated on her lips. Soft, pink.

Time suddenly turned into slow motion when he, gently, brushed her cheek with his thumb as he pulled her in for a kiss.

She was taken aback by his action, however, she softly ran her fingers through his thick brunette hair as her other hand gripped onto his arm.

It lasted for a few seconds, but Conrad swore he had felt heaven as he touched her lips. They were soft like velvet, and the way she caressed his hair made him almost melt.

As they broke off the kiss, his smiled at her, clearly, flustered face.

"I wanted to do that for as long as I've been getting to know you." He spoke. "I'm sorry if..."

"Don't apologize. I liked it." She replied with a smile. "...I must go, but I loved today. I really enjoy spending time with you, Conrad."

She kissed him once more before leaving him standing next to his car, completely head over heels for her.

After parting ways and getting to his apartment, he sat on the floor in his room for a while. Just thinking. Not even sure what about.

At some point, he pulled out his phone.

No unread messages. No missed calls. Not that he was expecting any.

He hovered over her name. He didn't text her.

But he thought about the way she made him feel less like a problem to solve and more like a person again.

She was getting under his skin.

Not fast. Not loud. Just enough.

And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't sure he wanted to stop her.

#conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fanfiction #angst #angst with a happy ending #team conrad #imagine #one shot #fanfic #the summer i turned pretty imagine

37 notes · View notes

marlsswrites · 1 year ago

Text

Summer camp AU, part 30!!

July 30th <3

Enter - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1275

First part Previous part

The night sky was a beautiful blossoming colour of dark blue, the stars shone almost as bright as James Potter's eyes right now. The constellations stood out in the sky, it was loud, busy, sweaty - everything Regulus hated. Whenever something got too much, Regulus would just tip his head to the sky and trace the flowing, sharp edged shapes through the sheet of ever dark silk.

Parties weren't exactly Regulus' forte, but there wasn't too many people here, and he knew most of them. Still, it didn't stop him from taking a few breaths, in and out, look up, breathe out.

He nursed a plastic cup of whatever soft drink had been spiked with vodka, he'd taken a cup to quench his thirst, but it smelled far too sweet and tasted like straight vodka with the amount that had been added.

There it is, he admired the sparkling orbs in the sky, the Leo constellation. His star was a part of it, the constellation took the form of a lion. Regal, fierce, brave and loving, people have always told him that the lion reflects his personality, but he's not so sure. A lion to him is sunny, protective, strong yet sweet, sharp yet soft. Doesn't that remind you of someone?

The thought dashed through his head, the singular mention of James that made his mind spiral and his leg bounce up and down as he leant against the cold, wooden wall outside the cabin.

One glimpse of that face, all he needed was that, just to see the brunettes face. On thought, he hadn't seem him in a while, he'd disappeared from the party about an hour ago. None of his friends seemed to notice, or even care. That set off a whole new string of worries in his head, one side of him hissed at him to stay put, to not worry so much, to act normal for once. What if James thinks he's being clingy, what if he's with a girl? Because of course Regulus just wasn't enough, he didn't quite meet the standards that someone had to hold to be with a man such as James Potter.

The other side was screaming at him to go, to find him, to check on him and make sure his James was alright. The thought that he was hurt, pained, upset - anything that wiped that smile away from his gorgeous, light filled face - was something that clearly doesn't deserve to walk this earth.

He took a long swig from his drink, the burning in his throat taking away from the rotten flood that was his mind. Then he pushed himself away from the wall, placed the almost empty cup into one of his friends hands - he doesn't quite recall who - and shot off towards his cabin.

Within enter, he saw James curled up on the bed, book in hand and tired eyes. Normally he has so much energy, he always has smiling cheeks and crinkled, loving eyes. But now those eyes seemed to glaze lazily over the book, his cheeks no longer looking warm, Regulus always imagined they'd be warm under his icy fingers that would trace his skin with touch as light as a shivering ghost.

"James?" He shut the door with a quiet click behind him.

As if in an instant, James' tired eyes, which were now alight with curiosity, lifted up from his book - it was actually Regulus' book - oh god no. That was Regulus' book, the one he'd made notes in, his copy of 'The Song Of Achilles'. He'd made specific notes in the book about James, about how much Achilles reminded him of the brunette. When the two shared their first kiss in the book, the tear wrenching, forbidden, heart breaking love story, he could rant for hours about that is what he longed to have with James.

A sad, beautiful, tragic love affair.

He wanted to be graced with a happy ending, but knowing his luck, he'll get pushed to second choice, like he has been his entire life.

Not quite good enough.

'He's half my soul as the poets say.'

Is he though?

"How much of that have you read?" He managed to get out, surprised that he could even open his mouth in his mortified state. His feet stayed glued to the floor, still light enough to run if he felt the need to. He hovered there, staring at James with such fright in his eyes while the older boy only put the book down slowly and stood from the bed.

He never got an answer from James, the next few moments felt so fast, so quick, so blurred, yet the memory would be tattooed in it's full, beautiful, alluring details behind his wide eyes until the day that he goes to his grave.

Hot lips were pressed against his own parted ones, eyelashes fluttered against his concerningly hot cheeks, warm, raspy breaths broke through his ears and his eyes fluttered shut under the comfort of strong hands curling around his waist and tracing patterns into the bare skin of his waist with skilled fingers.

Regulus reached one hand into his very favourite brunette hair, weaving the soft hair through his almost trembling hands. His other hand came up to the boys now smiling face, oh thank the gods he was smiling, Regulus would burn the entire world down just to keep James looking at him. Just like that, all the time. His perfect hands, the hands that seemed to fit around Regulus' waist like that was their only purpose, to hold Regulus, to protect him, to keep him safe, to touch and feel and love and admire.

His face was warm, flushed and smiling under his sweet touch.

Oh.

He really was just made for Regulus, all of those long lost fantasies he ran over and over in his head came to be true and far better than he could've ever imagined. They really did fit together like jigsaw pieces, two very stark different pieces, yet they fit, and it worked ever so well. Everything was playing through his mind like a movie, everything finally worked his way, he finally got the one thing that he'd ever desired.

His hands looped around James' neck, pulling him closer into him as James' comforting, healing, safe scent surrounded him. The other boy steadied himself as he took a few steps forward, caging Regulus between slightly tattooed, tanned arms and the wooden surface behind his bag.

Tongues collided, breaths mixed, hands fumbled and groans echoed. Both taking breaths for air, but keeping their hands on each other the entire time. One of James' hands always stayed planted on Regulus' waist, gripping onto it as if somebody was going to steal him, as if Regulus wasn't always his.

"I'm yours." Regulus reassured him with a quiet, low whisper.

That was all it took for James to moan, dipping his head back downwards to kiss Regulus, now rough and desperate, needy and lustful - and Regulus loved it. All of the sounds he made, all of the touches and the praise that spilled from James' mouth as they kept within inches of each other.

The same hands that he has always longed to touch him, hooked under his legs, lifting him from the floor as he automatically looped his legs around James' waist, kissing his neck and whispering every sinful thought he had into the other mans ear. While being pulled away from the door and towards the same bed that they would watch movies on every single night, he couldn't help but smile into James' lips as he released a hot, heavy breath.

All of those nights he longed for more, and now he finally had it.

Next and final part

#deep breaths everyone #omg omg omg #everybody stay calm #I did in fact not stay calm while writing this #I was very clearly listening to sad beautiful tragic while writing this #and this love by taylor swift #AHHHHHHHHHH #marauders #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #regulus x james #starchaser #writers on tumblr

113 notes · View notes

humanjarvis · 5 months ago

Text

the world when you're with me

synopsis: you seek out sylus for comfort after realizing you were wrong about him.

tags: comfort, fluff, implied avoidant!reader learns to trust sylus, implied avoidant!reader clings to sylus, sylus takes care of reader from afar, sylus has mephisto and the twins follow reader but wbk pairing: sylus x reader, reader is mostly mc word count: 802

a/n: is this the peak of literature? no. did i need to write it after the day i had? yes. did i need to post it today? no, because i’m trying to stagger my posts more, but here we are. anyway 4k caleb pwp coming tomorrow

For the first few weeks after you’d infiltrated the N109 Zone, you’d avoided Sylus Qin like the plague.

After being scared out of your wits by the first version of him you'd met—the cold, unavailable criminal mastermind who’d forced you to shoot him within 5 minutes of knowing one other—you were unashamedly wary of working with him again.

But Sylus’s intel was unrivaled. More and more often, you found yourself visiting the N109 Zone to meet with him, eventually not even bothering to book a place to stay. There was always a guest room at the Onychinus base prepped for your arrival.

As you spent more time with Sylus, he’d noticeably changed his approach to interacting with you. Rather than forcing you to resonate with him, he’d explained to you how his Evol worked, letting you aim his hands at some training dummies to test it out yourself. Instead of unceremoniously shutting you out when he was tired, he’d drag his robe-and-slippers-clad self to sit beside you on the sofa, answering your cautious questions by practically giving away all his secrets.

His shift in attitude hadn't stopped there. Sylus had clearly been using that endearingly incorrigible crow to keep tabs on you, but for the strangest reasons.

Whenever you had a bad day at work, some building-wide maintenance emergency would magically appear, forcing your team to cease operations for the rest of the day. He’d text you a couple hours after your early dismissal, saying he was in the city and inviting you on an evening joyride to clear your head.

The day after you’d lugged a case of water up the stairs to your apartment, having to pause a couple times to catch your breath, you came home to see your fridge mysteriously stocked with groceries. The only traces left behind were the masked twin figures you spotted scurrying away from your window.

When a new phone showed up at your doorstep one day—you never even told him you’d shattered your screen, you thought—you’d decided that Sylus wasn’t as bad as you’d once assumed. Not anywhere near as bad, in fact. He was thoughtful, generous, and helped you without taking credit or forcing you to ask for it. You’d never had that before.

Which is why, somehow, you find yourself standing in the doorway of his armory, studying him silently as he polishes an antique-looking gun.

When he notices you, Sylus looks up, raising a delicately arched eyebrow. “Something wrong, kitten?” he drawls, subtly checking your body for injuries.

Mind numb from your absolutely dreadful day, you stay silent while Sylus looks at you expectantly, his hands forgetting their earlier task.

But for the next minute, you remain hovering in the doorway. You expect him to get annoyed—you almost want him to, so you have an excuse to go back to relying only on yourself—but all you see on Sylus’s face is patience.

When you start shuffling toward him, that patience mixes with a glimmer of anticipation that he visibly tries to suppress. You need him to be calm right now—an anchor, he thinks. If he loses his composure, if he startles you with his excitement at your approach, you might bolt at any moment.

Sometime during his inner struggle, you reach him. Meekly, you stand before his chair, briefly opening your mouth before closing it.

“What is it, sweetie?” he asks softly. “Tell me, and we can figure it out together. I’ll personally track down whoever seems to have stolen your words from you.”

At his offer, you break, collapsing into his lap. His large, warm hands immediately encircle your waist, and you bury your face into his neck, inhaling his leather and spice cologne.

“Aw,” he coos in his baritone voice, rocking you slowly in his embrace. When he lifts your head an inch, you resist, letting out a soft whine. Gently, he guides your head back to his chest, his quickening heartbeat thumping in your ears and grounding you in the the moment.

After several moments of silence, your deep, shuddering breaths the only interruptions, Sylus murmurs into your ear. “When I noticed you never ask for help, I was worried the world may not be treating as well as it should. You must be very tired, hmm?” he asks, rubbing his chin against your hair.

Tightening your arms around him, you sit there for a while, his steady breaths seeming to mend a decades-long rift in your heart.

The next time Sylus tries to lift your head, you let him. He pulls your face from his neck so he can look into your eyes, hoping his gaze conveys his sincerity, before pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t need the world when you’re with me,” he promises. “I’ll treat you better than it ever could.”

#iris writes #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads x reader #love and deepspace comfort #love and deepspace fluff #lnds #sylus qin #lads fluff #lads comfort #lads sylus #lnds sylus

5K notes · View notes

81pastrys · 3 months ago

Text

He’s Married?!

Summary— Oscar brings a baby to track and hides the fact it’s his while his wife deems they should tell the world about them

Warnings— secret relationship ; secret baby

A/N— I started writing this and went off-topic but I kept going and couldn’t stop myself 😭 (streamer is sort of like this as well just Lando based)

Oscar One Shots

Request— hihi, if possible could you do a oscar piatri fic, in which he married young and forgot to mention it, and the grid finds out (ive read a few fics with this plotline and im in love) -🤍 @fctnllvrs

Oscar was very closed off, meaning absolutely no one expected him to arrive at the paddock with a baby carrier. He doesn’t even have a girlfriend or hookups or even a wife?!

“Mate who got you baby sitting on media day?” Lando joked lightheartedly. Oscar flushed a pink color and laughed it off.

“Not too good of an idea, huh?” He joined Lando’s banter hoping to ward off the ‘it’s actually my kid and I’ve been married since F2’ conversation.

Oscar went about his day, holding the little boy and doing his duties while simultaneously keeping up with the infants needs.

His wife insisted he take the boy for the day, she needed to catch up at home and it was the Australian Grand Prix. Oscar’s mum insisted she stay behind and help with organizing and cleaning up the house with Oscar’s wife.

The reporters were intrigued and asked him questions as well. “Who’s this little one?” Lawrence Baretto asked. Oscar smiled and held his baby boy to show the camera.

“This is Arlo.” Oscar said before returning his son to his chest where the baby sighed contentedly into him. No more questions followed but media had their suspicions.

Socials were no help at all to any fans or media stalkers, Oscar and his wife kept a low private social life. They never officially announced their wedding nor first born anywhere other than texts between families.

Oscar returned to his driver room and started getting Arlo ready for a nap, meaning changing the little boys diaper. If there was one thing the baby absolutely despised, it was getting changed.

There were loud cries and screams as Oscar did so, trying to keep the boy calm. “Such big feelings little man, it’s okay.” He soothed, rubbing the boys tummy when he was done. “Shhh daddy’s got you, it’s alright.” Now that Arlo was dressed and back on Oscar chest, he was calm and no longer a screaming, crying mess.

Oscar did slip up and call himself daddy though, hoping the scream died that out. Until Lando walked in quietly, shutting the door behind him. His face of pure shock and disbelief.

“Sorry, just trying to get him to sleep for a little.” Oscar said quietly with a few nods. Lando’s face softened at the little boy droopy eyed on Oscar’s chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” Lando whisper yelled, stirring the little one. “I’m sorry little man.” He apologized looking to Arlo after he flinched at Lando’s little shouting.

“Tell you what?” Oscar asked, puzzled. He didn’t realize Lando walked in on him saying ‘daddy’s got you’ so he’s left out of the loop.

“That Arlo is yours! Mate do you even have a girlfriend?” Lando asked, still quiet as for no one else to hear. “Oscar this is fucking huge! You’ve been flaunting him all day too.”

“Language and no I don’t have a girlfriend.” Oscar said to build suspense. Lando looked stressed at that comment. “I have a wife, who was overwhelmed at the mess from looking over him 24/7.” He smiled watching Lando relax.

“God mate you’re insane, how long?” Lando chuckled. He looked to Arlo as a nephew now, the sweet little boy sleeping on Oscar’s chest now a part of the McLaren family.

“4 years next month.” Oscar said looking as if he had to think about it. “Yes, I know. I don’t regret marrying her though.” Lando softened, why had Oscar kept this all a secret for so long?

“Secrets safe with me, but media is going to start speculating little Arlo here.” Lando reminded. Oscar nodded. He knew the risks and felt there wasn’t much need to hide it all anymore.

The day was done and Oscar went home to his wife and mum, a tidy home with barely any evidence that a newborn had taken over.

“How was track today? Was Arlo good?” His wife asked, scooping the newborn from his carrier. Arlo immediately relaxed in his mums hold.

“Good, I mean media is on my ass and Lando knows about us.” Oscar said casually. She hadn’t cared much about keeping it all a secret but she also didn’t want to push Oscar into it. “I was getting Arlo ready for a nap, you know how he is and when I went to calm him down Lando heard me call myself daddy so.” He laughed.

“He won’t tell anyone?” She asked, curious on Lando’s secrecy on things. “I know you trust him.”

“Yeah I mean I don’t see any threats of him just blatantly saying it or anything, it’s only a matter time people find out.” Oscar shrugged.

“Well if you want to do it before he accidentally does, we have hospital or maternity photos you could post.” She smiled, slightly joking. Oscar smiled with her and kissed her head.

“The house looks amazing by the way, you and mum did a good job tidying up.” He praised the cleanliness of the house that was once a mess. “I’ll send some pictures over to my media manager to post tomorrow before practice.”

She was going to be present for the race, but not the extras before. Arlo would not fare well with the long hours of sitting around in an unfamiliar place with loud noises.

Like Oscar said, scheduled posts from the hospital were posted the next day before he arrived at track. Him, his wife, and baby Arlo in their arms while cozied in a hospital bed widespread like wild fire.

Questions galore from reporters, congratulations from other drivers and shock from finding out the last 5 years were kept secret. Headliners read ‘Find out which McLaren driver kept wife and child under wraps for nearly 5 years’ or ‘Papaya driver released surprising post of family’ insanity flooded his phone.

The race day was even more overwhelming, fans and reporters hounding on his wife and Arlo now. Oscar was not having that. “Give them space, back up!” He said annoyed at the proximity of the people. His wife found a comfortable place in the garage where no one would bother her too much and Oscar checked in on her.

“We’re fine Osc, go do your McLaren stuff!” His wife insisted. She knew he had lots to do before a race, but he only seemed concerned on her and Arlo.

“Can I hold him before I have to go out?” Oscar asked. It was 30 minutes until he had to be in his car. She nodded and handed the boy over. “Such a sweet, loving boy.” He cooed. “I’m going to win my home race, just for you and Mama.” He whispered. He kissed the baby’s forehead and handed him back. He gave his wife a kiss as well and headed to his car on the grid.

I’m just getting over a sinus infection so apologies for being inactive.

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @itznotsophia @kallanfiona @chertik-007vvv (its Kinda dad Oscar)

2K notes · View notes

thebestandworstdayofjune · 1 year ago

Text

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence.

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt.

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission.

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now.

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.”

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile.

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?”

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection.

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!”

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.”

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.”

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?”

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings.

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud.

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other.

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?”

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.”

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?”

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.”

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.”

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.”

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.”

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.”

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.”

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door.

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.”

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice.

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side.

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet.

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.”

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?”

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit.

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

4K notes · View notes

nymphaea-blue · 4 months ago

Text

Love and Deepspace boys comforting you through stressful situations.

Info : 3.3k+ word count (about 700-900 per part), hurt/comfort, angst mixed with fluff, talks of periods (Zaynes part), mentions of throwing up (Zaynes part), mentions of harassment (Sylus part), hinted violence/murder (Sylus part).

Note : I had such a hard week I had to write about it, I hope some girlies here will relate because wow I would love to have Rafayel comfort me after I did in fact miss 3 of my trains two days ago 😭 Reqs are open!

Rafayel

The day was hard for you.

Ever since you met Rafayel, you thought your life would only be happy and it worked for a while, whenever he was with you, you were just so happy. No matter if something happened, if you messed something up, he was there to cheer you up.

But not today, since he had an exhibition to attend and one you sadly couldn't come to because of your work schedule. You were assigned a mission in a nearby city, it wasn't extremely far, about an hour away by train, but it was for multiple days which caused you to miss him, phone calls weren't enough.

Earlier that day, you were getting ready to leave to go to the station, but something came up so you had to take care of that first and later on you had to rush to catch your train but about halfway you realised it wasn't worth it. That's fine, just a minor setback, surely you will make it to the next train, right?

Wrong, just as you were getting ready to catch a taxi, you realised you didn't have your wallet so you had to run back to your hotel which took a while and you almost tripped while doing that since your suitcase was full but it didn't matter, you just wanted to make it home back to Rafayel. Well, it took way longer than you thought and you wouldn't be able to make it as you only had a few minutes and you weren't even at the station. That's okay, there is another train, you will just arrive a little later, or so you thought.

As it turned out, the next train was in two hours.

Whopping two hours.

And oh you cried, it was so stressful to miss the first few trains but now that you found it that you will have to sit two hours, in a city away from home, from your boyfriend, out in the cold, with a heavy bag - that was enough to make you break down.

In the middle of the street, you reached for your phone with a shaky hand and pressed the call button. It rang a few times and you felt so bad for interrupting him, because it was his day, but you had no idea what else to do.

He picked it up after a few moments.

“Oh hey cutie! It's so good to hear you, it's boring here without you, you know. What's up?”

You wanted to answer but hearing his cheerful voice somehow made you cry even more and you started sobbing. Clearly, he heard.

“.. Woah, are you crying? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“N-no, it's not that Rafayel…”

“What is it then, talk to me. I'll make you all feel better.”

“It's just… I missed the last few of my trains and now I have to wait two hours.. I'm so so sorry, I tried to make it, but then my coworkers needed something last minute, then later on I forgot a wallet and now it turns out the next train is in damn two hours and I don't know what to do because it's freezing cold, I'm all alone and it's getting dark and I'm scared.” You just sobbed out into the phone all your thoughts as you tightly gripped onto your bag as you did your best to hold yourself upright.

There was silence on the line for a moment as he was hearing you out and processing the information you gave him, then he finally answered.

“Don’t apologize, it happens sometimes cutie. Where are you right now?” Rafayel asked, surprisingly calm as he did his best to soothe you.

“At the train station.. I should be back home in 3 hours. I'm so sorry, I thought I would make it back home before your exhibition ends so I would be able to surprise you or perhaps attend the ending of it but I messed up..”

“Okay, don't apologize, it happens and I don't blame you, you know that right? Stay where you are, transport will be there soon enough.”

“Transport..? What do you mean?”

“I'm going to pick you up, duh. You didn't think I would let you sit out there for two hours, right?”

“No you can't do that, you have your exhibition to attend. I'll do fine on my own, really-” He cut you off. You weren't sure what you were expecting but surely it wasn't that he would pick you up, the city was almost an hour away by car.

“Yeah yeah, an important exhibition or something. Thomas can handle the rest, I sat there for longer than usual anyways, but I can't just sit here and do nothing while my lovely partner sits somewhere and is clearly uncomfortable.”

“You just hang on tight sweetheart, alright? I will be there soon, why don't you stay with me on the line while I drive so you will feel more safe, hm?” He added and you can hear the faint sounds of an engine starting from the other side of the line. He really did just decide to pick you up.

“Yeah, that will be perfect.. thank you Rafayel.” You wiped some of your tears, feeling better now after hearing his reassurance

“No problem. And hey,”

“Hm?”

“You are pretty strong, miss bodyguard, but it's no shame to let some of those tears fall sometimes, yeah?”

Zayne

You were currently crying in Zaynes bedroom as you felt another cramp in your abdomen. It hurt, it hurt so much but worse of all, you weren't expecting your period, it came early so you had to come back from work because you had no pads and practically bled through your hunters uniform, how embarrassing…

For some reason, this period was extremely painful for you. You couldn't eat because you felt nauseous, you had terrible mood swings to the point of overthinking everything, you felt dizzy whenever you moved and you were craving chocolate but you ran out. You ran out of all your supplies actually, which was just great. That was why you were at Zaynes house, he always had things stocked for you and you had the keys to it, so you sometimes went there when you needed comfort, like now.

So, with no one else to call, you decided to reach out to one person you were sure would help you when you felt like you were dying:

Zayne, your boyfriend and a doctor.

“Hello sweetheart, I just finished a surgery, is everything alright?” Your boyfriend asked and it was such a relief to hear his voice.

“No, not really… I feel really bad, Zayne. When do you get off from work?” You asked, trying not to sound desperate and to not make him worry, you felt like crying but you didn't want him to rush out of his job just to help you.

“My shift ends in about 3 hours, but what’s wrong? I can be home quicker if you need me.”

“... It's alright then, it's nothing serious, I can wait.” You tried your best to keep your voice stable as you curled into yourself more at the feeling of another cramp.

Clearly, it didn't work.

After a few moments of silence, Zayne spoke up again.

“I will be home in about 40 minutes. Try to stay calm for now, okay?” He quickly let you know and hung up before you even had the chance to tell him not to.

While you waited for him, you just lied on the bed, the heating bottle doing barely anything at this point as you sobbed at the discomfort. You felt terrible that he was rushing out of his very serious job just to help you, during something as silly as your period, you could handle it on your own after all.

After about 40 minutes, right as expected, he came back home.

“Here you are, I was so worried. What's wrong?” Zayne quickly came up to you and tilted your head gently to look you in the eyes, to try and spot any visible injury on your body and see how you were feeling.

You wanted to answer, you really did, but all that came out were sobs, pitiful, loud, sobs. He really did come home from the hospital just to help you, because he thought that you were seriously injured. He was an amazing boyfriend, you didn't deserve him for calling him for something like this.

“Hey, hey it's alright now. I'm here, calm down. Breathe in and out for me, okay?” He did his best to wipe away the tears coming down your cheeks and help you calm down, he hugged you tight and just held you in his arms until he felt you calm down slightly.

“Tell me what's wrong. I'll help you right away but I need to know what to do. I can't bear to see you cry like that..”

“I'm so so sorry, Zayne… I'm just on period, it came early and it's so goddamn painful for some reason, I was throwing up after everything I ate, I feel dizzy and overall awful and I didn't know what to do so I called you.. and now you are here, handling something stupid instead of saving someone's life, I'm sorry..” You sobbed into his shoulder as he held onto you so tightly as if you would disappear, you really hoped he would forgive you.

He was stunned for a moment, did he hear you right? You were apologising to him for asking for help? While you were sick? And he was a doctor?

Slowly and gently he pulled away from you, just to look you in the eyes as you were still sobbing.

“My love, you know you never need to feel sorry for that, right? I would drop everything even if I was in the middle of surgery if something ever happened to you.” He comforted you softly, patting your head and waving his hand through your hair in an effort to calm you down.

When your sobbing became soft crying instead, he decided to treat you. Zayne went ahead and found some painkillers, ones that should help for period pain and he also brewed some tea for you. After taking the medication, he sat next to you while you laid down on the bed, still all curled up.

“How do you feel? Are your symptoms getting better?” He asked, his voice so tender yet professional and you couldn't help but laugh at that.

“Yes, I feel much better, thanks to you Dr. Zayne.”

“Good, that's what I was hoping to hear. After your nausea goes down, I will make you something light to eat and then I can order some of those fancy desserts you like. How about that? You deserve it after such a hard day.”

Xavier

Okay, everything should be ready. Your briefcase is packed, all the documents are ready, your outfit is perfect and you even managed to wake up early to do some makeup and eat a healthy breakfast, what an amazing start to your day! Well, we won't talk about the fact you spilled coffee on your white shirt and had to change, but it worked out anyways.

You were very nervous, but also hopeful since so far everything was going almost exactly how it should be. Jenna was counting on you that day to deliver a presentation in front of the media about Linkons safety and actions your department would implement in the near future to improve even more and keep Wanderers away. It was a big deal, one that could perhaps also result in you getting a raise or a promotion so you wanted to do good.

As you were on the commute, which was of course packed, you were texting with your partner and boyfriend - Xavier. You woke up earlier than him to prepare so he was still at home as he didn't start his shift for a few more hours, despite that he still woke up early to chat with you and keep your nerves at bay.

During the ride, it was all fine at first but then at the next station even more people rushed in and the space was so tight, you could barely breathe. It was extremely uncomfortable as everyone was pressed against you and it was loud, very loud, too loud to even hear your thoughts. And of course, the commute had some issues, so you were stuck in one place for about 10 minutes.

After a very uncomfortable ride to work, you finally showed up, running quite late but you still had enough time to prepare so it was fine. You sat at your desk to go over the presentation when you realised. You forgot to bring the damn pendrive from home. You thought you saved it on your laptop but no, you searched for it and it wasn't anywhere and Jenna was about to come in and probably ask you about it!

You were ready to cry, honestly. You tried to be positive, not let everything bug you but you were stressed because you worked on the presentation for multiple days now and you were only about 10 minutes away from presenting it in front of the media but you didn't have it!

But there was still hope. You called your boyfriend who was probably napping since he didn't respond to your last text message that you sent him while you were still on your way to work, but hopefully he wouldn't be mad that you woke him up.

“Hm? Are you at work already? What's wrong?” He muttered sleepily.

“Xavier are you still at home?”

“Yes, did you forget something?”

“.. How did you know?”

“Just figured. You were nervous about this, it's only natural for someone to forget something during such a stressful day.”

“Yes, I don't have my pendrive… Could you perhaps get it from my apartment and deliver it to me, please? I'm literally about to present it in a few minutes, I can't mess this up!” You hoped he would be able to do this for you, you were almost crying but you didn't want to ruin your makeup so you held back and you guessed that he heard it.

“Okay calm down starlight. I will be there in a few moments, so take a deep breath, and you will do great. I know it. So don't stress so much and keep that wonderful smile on your face when you present, I will be there in the crowd to cheer you up.

And Xavier did come, in only two minutes he teleported to work with your pendrive and also some of your makeup to fix you up after crying. And he kept his word because he was there, in the crowd, right behind the cameras to keep your spirits up during your presentation. Afterwards, the two of you went to a hot pot spot to celebrate the successful presentation and your pay raise.

Sylus

After work, you decided to go have some fun in the nearby mall. You were working hard lately, so why not reward yourself a little bit?

There was a new movie coming out, you originally wanted to go see it with Sylus but he sadly had some work to do, so you decided to go on your own. It was amazing and you loved it, you had great seats right at the centre and there weren't many ads at the beginning so it felt like it was going to be perfect. However, somewhere in the middle of the film, you noticed two guys that were sitting next to you, they kept laughing and looking over at you, but you didn't think much of it.

After the movie you went to do some shopping. You entered one of your favourite stores and started browsing, there were a few cute things so you picked them and went to another aisle. As you walked around the store, you saw the same guys that sat next to you during the movie, but perhaps it was just a coincidence so you brushed it off. The shop had clothes for males as well after all so it was nothing suspicious, Sylus bought clothes there sometimes whenever he went shopping with you.

After you made your choice, you went ahead and paid at the till. The same two guys stood right behind you and they looked over you and your choice of clothes. There were some shoes, shirts and a few dresses, because who doesn't love a good shopping trip to spice up their wardrobe? Well, they looked at you in a way that you didn't really like, so you just swiped the black card and took your things neatly packed in bags before storming out.

It was fine, you convinced yourself. They perhaps were there looking for something. Maybe they just thought you looked familiar. Maybe they were your coworkers that you didn't recognise.

No matter, you decided to go to a nearby store to buy some makeup that you were running low on. As you peacefully browsed through the isles of products, searching for some face masks and skincare products for you and your boyfriend to enjoy later, you spotted them again. This time, however, they decided to talk to you.

“Hey, I have a question.” One guy dared to say, you decided to try and ignore him, despite how scared you were. What was their business with you? Normally you would know how to handle this but well, you were in public, so you couldn't just get rid of them as much as you wanted to.

“Did you hear me?”

“Are you single, perhaps? Or were all those beautiful clothes for some lame ass boyfriend?” The second man asked.

“Yeah, we can treat you much better, you know. Why don't you give us a show in those clothes?

And you were crying, at that point. Who the hell were these guys? Why were they doing that? And the worst part? The store was packed, so it was loud and no one else heard or paid attention to what was going on in the corner you were in.

Luckily though, someone appeared at the right moment.

It all happened quite quickly, you were crying and shaking while trying your best to ignore the guys or get away and the next moment, a certain black and red mist pulled you closer to the side of your hero, Sylus.

“I'm sure you guys would love to have a show, but that sight is only reserved for me.” He said in his usual tone yet you could see the daggers in his gaze at the guys while they stared in shock. You, however, were very happy to see him as suddenly all your worries disappeared and you hugged him tightly.

“There you are, sweetie. How are you doing? Did you have fun on your spa day?” He asked in a soft tone as his attention switched to you and he lifted your head to see how you were holding up.

“Yeah, I'm all better now… Thank you, Sy.” You smiled warmly at him as you wiped the rest of your tears.

“Wait… where are the guys that were here a minute ago?-” You asked after you looked back in the direction of where the two men stood earlier, but you saw nothing.

“Oh don't worry about it. Why don't we finish up here and then get something nice to eat, hm?”

“For the next time, if someone even dares to do this, just call me. I will always pick up if it's from you and take care of any of those pests that bother you.”

Sure enough, you never found out what happened to them but all you know is Sylus probably didn't let them get away with it alive. He took you to a fancy place to eat afterwards and you stayed the night at his place.

#lads rafayel #love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #lads #rafayel #fluff #lads fluff #lads sylus #lads xavier #lads zayne #hurt/comfort #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #sylus x reader #angst

1K notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 1 month ago

Note

Helloooooo 👋. Sorry if this is a bad time but I saw that you're writing for K-pop demon hunters now and I saw your fic with the tiger and it gave an adorable idea, so what if Manager reader had a puppy, maybe a golden retriever or something like that, who's normally a big sweetheart but the second one of the boys pet it. Ultimate zoomies, and the reader comes in to see the guys just trying to get the puppy to stay still.

Lukas was a handful.

You loved the golden retriever puppy more then life itself, always feeling alot better the moment you stared into his big puppy eyes and laughed at the lightning pace his tail went whenever he saw you. Lukas was serotonin incarnate and you knew you could never have a shit day, not when you had a beautiful bundle of fluff to always cheer you up by simply existing, becoming overjoyed with seeing you even if you had been gone for five seconds.

The months old pup made the headaches go away and the kisses he would give you was worth the slobbery trail when you knelt down to greet him with an abumdance of kisses, causing the pup to go mental with his own affection in return before darting off like a golden blur within the depths of your room, finding that it had more energy to burn off then originally expected while you went to make him some food for when he tired himself out.

You loved Lukas alot but his tendancy to get the zoomies after a simple act of affection like a head pat or a scratch behind the ear, he was off causing chaos and often times tackled himself into you when he slides across parts of wodded flooring from running too fast. It's endearing at first but soon enough you had learnt to not over indulge Lukas in affection and give him just enough to stay within a calm, relaxed state.

However you didn't pre warn the boys about Lukas' tendancy to become too excited when given too much affection when you had made them watch over your precious bundle of fluff, all you did in fact tell them before leaving to stock up on dog food was: 'if one of you looses my true happiness in golden fur, my serotonin boost with toe beans, i will make you all regret it, one by one.' All the while pointing at each and individual member with the intent of upholding your threat, before giving them a smile and shutting the door behind you.

So the minute Lukas had gotten one too many head pats and chin scratches from Abby, Romance and Jinu, he began to bolt about the room like a golden blur their eyes can barely catch up with and causing a ruckas. The boys were at a loss of what to do, having not dealt with this sort of thing before, helpessly watching your puppy as he darted from one side of the room to another within seconds, or bolting from the sofa to running down the hallway to your bedroom the minute they blink.

'what do we do?' romance asked, trying to keep his eye on the golden retriever, hoping not to trip over the golden blurr.

'(name) is so going to kill us.' Abby adds as he tried and failed to catch your puppy, Lukas' nimble and small body managing to slip through his hands like water as it darted off towards the living room once more, skidding scross the floor on a pillow he had knocked off previously.

'We have to find and calm Lukas before (name) gets back and clean up the mess he's made as to avoid suspicion.' Jinu said with finality as he and Mystery teamed up to find Lukas, letting Baby be on watchout for you, and let Romance and Abby be on catching duty for when Jinu and Mystery heard the energetic puppy towards them. It sounded easily enough of a plan to work in their favour, being demons and all but they all would soon learn that nothing is ever so easily exacuted, especially not when it came to your precious Lukas who could do no wrong.

'everyone know their positions?' jinu asked everyone, giving them a stern look.

'yes!' Abby, Romance and Mystery said in unison.

'Baby?' Jinu said, casting him a questioning look.

'Heard you loud and clear, watch out for (name) and alert you when they're coming.' Baby said his job within the plan back to Jinu, word for word, before popping the lollipop back into his mouth. Jinu made a noise of apporval as he catches a glimps of the golden puppy from the corner of his eye. 'then let us catch ourselves a puppy!' He said as he and Mystery made the first move into fishing Lukas out of the room he was causing chaos within, believeing it to be a simple job.

It wasn't in fact an simple job, the boys were loosing badly, so badly infact that Romance and Mystery were forced to sit down on the floor, having never had been left so out of breath by a small thing ever in their demonic lives. Also Baby had completely given up on his duty of watching out for you halfway through, instead finding more humour in his fellow band mates misery in capturing this small dog, smirking and snickering when the puppy seemed to get the best of four other demons in a borderline embarassing display.

So when he heard the door open, he was quick to stop laughing and looked over to see you stood in the doorway, just in time to see Jinu and Abby collide into one another as they failed to sneak up on Lukas who seemed to know what they were doing and ran from under them at the last minute; that felt intentional by the puppy, like he wanted them to be lurred into a false sense of security before bolting towards you the second he saw you, barking like mad.

'Hi honey.' You cooed as you knelt down to look at Lukas, noticing that he was filled with unbridled energy that needed to be dispersed, took notice of the state of the room and saw how trashed it seemed before seeing the exhausted states Abby, Romance, Jinu and Mystery were in as the pieces came together in quick succession. 'did you guys not read my text?' you asked, looking from Abby to Jinu as they looked at each other confused.

'text? what text?' Abby asked.

'oh i think they mean this one.' Baby said as he showed the two his phone as Mystery and Romance forced themselves to their feet to join the others in reading the text on Baby's phone screen, their faces all collectively drop after reading it, which read as follows; 'I forgot to mention this before i left, but Lukas gets really excited when given affection or excessive affection, and he will get the zoomies. So please give my lukas affection at your own discrecion. See you later.'

Romance looked at Baby, who seemed too calm for all of this and pointed at him, 'you knew and didn't bother to tell us!' He accused his band mate who only shrugged.

'You guys seemed a little busy with catching Lukas, so i'd thought i would tell you guys later, besides i'm not the only one with access to a phone. So whaat's your excuses.' Baby defends himself as he pops the lollipop he had removed to speak back into his mouth, shrugging.

'We were trying to catch the puppy while you were sat on your ass!' Abby exclaims in defense of himself, Jinu, Romance and Mystery who huffed in agreement before they all looked over at you, only to see that you had managed to calm down Lukas and wandered into the kitchen with the little chaos maker nipping at your heels in excitment of having you home as you sighed.

'Seeing as you've stopped arguing, how about you boys clean up, you’ve practically made my living space into an active war zone.’ You told them with a tight lipped smile, Lukas sitting innocently by your feet, tail wagging at a thousand miles a minute.

‘Do we have much of a choice?’ Romance asks.

You gave it some thought before responding with a resounding. ‘Nope.’

965 notes · View notes

ladadiida · 2 years ago

Text

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.

or,

you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!

𝐰𝐜 11.3k

"There you are."

Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.

He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.

"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.

You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.

An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."

"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."

"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.

"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.

Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.

"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.

However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."

Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"

"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.

Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.

On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.

You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.

Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.

It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color. You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.

You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.

"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.

Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"

A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.

Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.

Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.

You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.

Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.

Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.

It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.

The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."

You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.

"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.

His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."

In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"

"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."

You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"

"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."

"Maybe I can—"

"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.

"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.

Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.

Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"

A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"

His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."

He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.

You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.

With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.

"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."

A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.

Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"

Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"

"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"

"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.

"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.

The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."

Zeff took a deep, tired breath.

"Oh, they're ringing alright."

You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.

Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.

The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.

Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.

Or so you thought.

You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?

So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.

The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.

Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.

Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.

You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.

You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.

And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.

You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.

"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.

You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."

Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"

"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"

With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.

Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.

"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.

"Now I do."

Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.

You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"

"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."

Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.

You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"

Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.

"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.

Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.

"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."

He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."

You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"

You nodded. "I don't like it."

He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"

"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.

A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."

Oh.

Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."

He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.

But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."

Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.

"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.

"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"

Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.

But the answer was simple.

"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.

And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"

"Why not me?"

Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.

More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"

Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.

"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."

You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."

"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.

You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.

However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.

Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.

He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.

Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.

Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.

Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.

Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.

When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.

He doesn't.

⸻ • ⸻

"Are you really going to leave?"

Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.

"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.

Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."

You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.

The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."

You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."

"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.

Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.

And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.

You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.

Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?

You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.

"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.

"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"

A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?

"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."

Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.

Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."

Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.

He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.

As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.

In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.

He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.

Sanji almost dropped the plate.

It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.

He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.

You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.

"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.

That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.

You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"

"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.

"Sanji!"

He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.

Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"

It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.

Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.

"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.

He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."

That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.

Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.

You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.

He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.

Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.

A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.

You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.

Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.

"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."

"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.

Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."

The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.

You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.

Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.

The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.

But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.

"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.

You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.

"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.

Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."

You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"

He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."

The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.

It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.

As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.

"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.

The realization began to sink in.

Oh.

You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."

Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.

"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.

"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."

When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."

"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.

"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."

"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.

He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."

"No..."

"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.

"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.

However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."

You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."

"Even with me by your side?"

A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."

Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."

The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.

"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.

Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.

Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"

"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.

"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.

You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"

Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.

He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.

You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.

⸻ • ⸻

The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.

But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.

"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.

You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"

She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."

"I will."

"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.

You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"

He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.

"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"

Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"

When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."

"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.

Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.

It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.

⸻ • ⸻

The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.

A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"

You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."

The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."

"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.

Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.

Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.

You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.

You missed Sanji and everything that he was.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.

Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.

"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.

"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."

You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.

Sanji.

As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly. You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.

How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,

"There you are, ange."

taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo

#opla #opla x reader #opla x y/n #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece sanji #one piece live action sanji #sanji live action #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #angst #one piece sanji x reader #ਏਓ ladadiida

10K notes · View notes

foolinafable · 9 months ago

Text

squeeze you in

SYNOPSIS: Viktor barely has the time, but he makes it for you PAIRING: Viktor x reader WORDCOUNT: 5.2K TAGS: S1 Arcane, set around Act 1 and before Act 2, 5 year age gap, assuming arcane uses weekdays and seasons. Fem pronouns towards the end NOTES: spent all weekend writing this, hope you all enjoy. try not to mind any editing errors

This was decidedly a bad idea. Wandering the halls of the academy at night wasn’t dangerous, even with the recent attack from the undercity, that's if you could even really call it an attack. To you, it seems to be children getting involved in things they shouldn’t. You could remember them now, the swirls of brown, red and blue running along the roofs of Piltover after the explosion in the apartments of the academy. While many around you felt fear, all you saw were children. Sure, they looked only a few years your junior, but even Heimerdinger tells you that you are only on the cusp of adulthood, still shadowed by childish tendencies. You suppose that he is correct; twenty is only one year off nineteen, and that age is considered a teenager despite its adult allowances.

You take a deep breath as your hand curls around the handle to Heimerdinger's office, unsure as to why you feel so nervous. It’s not as if you're stealing anything but rather retrieving it. You had foolishly left behind your notebook during your meeting with him when it had been interrupted by the council having an impromptu meeting, something you are sure had something to do with Talis. You needed it for a meeting the next morning with another professor about your dissertation, your last piece of work as a student at the academy, and you couldn't go to the meeting without it. Least you look unprepared, surely your job offer as a researcher for the academy could be rescinded if you didn’t appear completely committed.

So, despite your better judgement, your anxiety outweighed it as usual as you slowly opened the door to the dean, your mentor's room. You crept inside, even though nobody was around, afraid even the slightest noise could get you caught snooping after hours. Quickly, you found your notebook on the chair. You had left it opposite Heimerdinger's desk; he preferred it when you told him of your research and studies without the aid of your writings, so you had placed it next to your body on the chair. You picked it up, signing in relief that this was as easy as you hoped, when another notebook caught your attention, one that certainly wasn't on the desk when you left. Curiousity about getting the better of you as you reach for it, opening it to the first page, eyes widening at the text ‘If found, please return to Jayce Talis'. Your mind quickly remembered an interaction you had overheard in this very office earlier that day.

You were walking the path towards Heimerdinger's office, only this time it was daytime, the sun was out despite the slight winter chill warming anyone in its path. You slowed as you got towards your mentor's office, frowning at the sound of voices coming from inside. Did you get the time wrong? You wondered, looking down at your watch, showing that you were, in fact, on time. Your hands are sweaty now, anxiety crawling at the idea of interrupting, deciding to stay outside for a few moments to calm down.

“Why can’t I read it?” An exacerbated voice rang out, his accent making your face feel hot

“That Talis’ work was dangerous; the explosions in the city were proof of that; you don’t need to be involved, Viktor”, Heimerdinger's voice rang out, proud as always

“I hardly see how simply reading what he was working on is such a bad thing. I thought the greatest scientific ventures were the ones that bent the rules of the institution.” The man Viktor, you assume, tries to manoeuvre the conversation to his favour, but Heimerdinger is seemingly having none of it. Moving closer to where you are by the door as if to get the boy out of his office, you quickly knock on the door, worried that he would open the door and see you eavesdropping. Both voices stop at the sound of the knock, and Heimerdinger quickly opens the door. You awkwardly smile at the dean, eyes rising to meet the amber ones of the other body occupying the room.

“Can I come back later?” You twiddle your fingers, nervousness wracking your body at interrupting whatever this is

“No, no, come in”, Heimerdinger exclaims, pulling you by the hand into his office, yelping at the sudden contact as he continues to speak. “We were done here anyways”, his eyes solely on Viktor, who seemed to have mellowed out your presence, quickly giving his goodbyes before leaving the room, closing it behind him.

So this was what the man was interested in, what he was forbidden from reading. You tap your fingers on the book cover before quickly placing your notebook on top of it, drawing your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth as you quickly depart from the office, might as well make all your worries worthwhile.

—

It wasn’t until later the next day you saw the man you were looking for; it was early afternoon, and you were packing up after having lunch when a head of unruly brown hair caught your eye, sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, coffee in one hand sandwich in the other. Grabbing Jayces book, which you had procured the night before, you quickly made your way towards the man before you lost your cool. Unceremoniously dropping the book in front of the man whose eyes darted from you to the book, mouth opening and closing in clear shock.

“I hope whatever is in there is worth it,” you muttered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before turning to leave.

“I-how?” Viktor called out, but you only replied with a cheeky smile, finger covering your mouth in secrecy as you walked away, thinking that to be the only interaction you would have with your mentor's other protege when his voice called out to you, not so far behind

“Wait”

You stood stock still as he approached quicker than you would’ve thought given his cane, but you suppose it was a silly thought that an ailment could stop a man on a mission. Once he catches up with you, he continues to walk, so you join him, slightly confused as to what he may now want.

“Have you read it?” he asks.

“It would be a lie to say I don't know of its content,” you replied, noticing his smile at your remark, eyes sparkling with wonder.

“What did you think?”

“I think...” You trail off, trying to come up with the right words as you both round a corner. “What he wants to do is revolutionary...” Your words scamper off slightly as you notice his eyes on the side of your face.

“But” he reads your mind.

“But”, you echo “I am unsure if he completely knows what he is doing or how he plans to do it”, trying to be as vague as possible due to the students scattered all around “I wrote some notes”, you gesture to the book “Things I thought could be helpful, I assume that's why you wanted it, to learn”

“And how did you get it?” he wonders aloud. “Last time I checked, Heimerdinger wasn't giving out illegal independent research to anyone”, he said with a smile on his face.

“Let's just say it certainly wasn't by asking nicely,” you tease, matching his grin with one of your own “Well, you should probably go read and hide that before Heimerdinger sends out a search party for it.”

“I probably should” Viktor smiles as he turns back the way the two of you came, the book held tightly in his unoccupied hand.

Continuing to walk the way you had been, you couldn’t help but feel relief at the fact that the book was now out of hands and the man, Viktor, seemed just as keen to keep this a secret as you did, even if you did spend all night essentially peer reviewing Jayce Talis’ work, unfortunately, your need to stay out of trouble with your superiors greatly outweighed your want to indulge in what he and assumedly Viktor was planning, you could only hope that your words you had spent all night working on where a help instead of a hindrance. You especially wanted to know how Viktor would take the words you wrote specifically for him at the front of the book:

‘The greatest scientific ventures are the ones that bend the rules of the institution’

—

One of the benefits of being the dean's newest protege was that the academy gave you your lab, a small space just for you, it even had your name on a metal plaque on the door, probably due to the academy's narcissism, thinking that they would keep you even after your graduation, not that they were wrong. A fact that slightly irritated you.

You didn’t usually get many visitors, just Heimerdinger, to see what you were working on, but those meetings were usually scheduled so he could ensure you were tallying in your lab and not at one of your usual haunts like the library. So you couldn’t help but jump at the sound of a knock on your door, eyebrows furrowed as you called out to whoever stood outside your door.

“Come in!”

Your confusion lingered as Viktor walked in. It had only been a few days since you’d given him Jayce’s book, and from what you had heard, the two were now employed to continue Jayce’s studies non-illegally this time, being funded by Councilwoman Medarda, which they have named ‘Hextech’

“You’re not an easy woman to get ahold of”, Viktor claims as he takes a seat at your desk “I have been stopping by your room for a few days, but you were never in”, he continues, eyes piercing as he takes in the view of you, stood by another desk filled with colanders and Bunsen burners

“You sound like Heimerdinger when you say that” You smiled slightly in truth, scoffing at the face he made, clearly not appreciative of your parallel “What?” you laugh “he has said similar things on various occasions”

“I understand why,” he remarked.

“I spend a lot of time in the library, researching. Especially at the moment with final deadlines coming in, as I’m sure you remember,” he hummed at your explanation “And it’s not as if I’m a professor with allocated office hours, I don't need to be here,” you tell him passively looking back at your work at the table, deciding to turn off the flame not going to get any worthwhile work done until he's gone.

“So what can I do for you?” you asked when the man still sat in silence, seemingly comfortable to just watch you work he blinked, taken away from wherever he went upon registering your words.

“Oh well, I just wanted to thank you, Jayce, as well, for getting his book and your notes, they were more than helpful with working through the kinks in his theory- instrumental really to the breakthrough”, he admitted somewhat bashfully, stumbling over his words a little not that you noticed nervousness crawling up your spine at his approval of your words.

“Oh, um, you're welcome. I mean, a fresh pair of eyes is always helpful..” you murmur, unsure of yourself now as he stares at you, not daring to make eye contact, knowing it will only make your nerves worse.

“We were wondering, Jayce and I, if you would read some of our other research in the future, help us out. We would give out any references in the future for any work you do after study” he speaks delicately, soft and slow and if worried, he would scare you off like a child being caught doing something they shouldn’t. Your heart seems to slow from its anxious thumping as you contemplate his offer.

“I don't see why not”, you ponder absentmindedly, but your mind is already made up.

“Really?” he asked, though he didn’t sound shocked, more like he was trying to egg more words out of you.

“If you can find me, that is” You smile, the nerves falling away from you as he laughs a little

“I’ll go tell Jayce the good news; he's going to be over the moon. You didn’t hear it from me, but he has always wanted to work with you. He said something about loving your approach in an article about the arcane:” You looked at the man again, but he simply walked out of the room, not sparing you another word. You had honestly forgotten that your last article had been published, and the fact that academics that you knew had read it and enjoyed it made a smile appear on your face, maybe this was going to be better than you had thought.

—

A routine had been established this past few months, as winter made way for spring, you had found yourself in a comfortable pattern with the boys.

Once a week, on a Wednesday, you would spend the entire day in your lab working, and at some point, Jayce or Viktor would drop by with some work for you to look through and maybe a comment or two on things you had written the week before. These meetings were usually brief as they quickly needed to get back to work, so you would spend hours going through papers, tweaking diagrams, and sometimes even trekking to the library for a book that might help them. It wouldn’t be until the sun had made way for the moon in the sky that you would be done, taking the work down several corridors and stairs to get to their workspace, where they would still be working to drop them off. The two would then call it time for a break, so the three of you would scamper your way to the cafeteria for a change of scenery while you all ate the food you packed for lunch but had yet to get to.

Today, however, Viktor seemed hellbent on breaking the schedule the three of you had unknowingly created. He had appeared at your lab, maybe a little earlier than he or Jayce usually decided to grace you with their presences, but it was of no matter to you, honestly, the earlier, the better, as it meant you may finish earlier than the hour of the wolf. He did bring a stack of papers with him, but instead of dropping them at your desk, sharing a few complimentary words, and then leaving, he dropped the work at your desk and then sat himself in the new chair he and Jayce had procured that was placed on the other side of your desk so they would have somewhere to sit, not that either of them had used it up until now.

“You alright?” you ask, grabbing the top paper from the pile, you could immediately tell this was Jayce’s as the handwriting is much neater and the use of a very inky pen you quickly grabbed your pink pen and started to read the words on the page only to look up and give the man a sarcastic glower at his lack of words to which he simply smiled, not even the slightest bit disheartened by your look.

“Jayce is off for the day, something to do with his sponsorship with the Kirammans. Told me to take the day off” he shuffled in the chair, attempting to get comfy as his hand grabbed at your notebook, deciding that he would read through some of your work for once

“And you have decided to spend your time here? Doing more work?” you questioned, though not paying the man much attention, mumbling to yourself on the words on the page, completely unphased by Viktor’s lack of decorum, it’s not as if it’s the first time he got bored and decided to read it. “Would mixing it with metal only make it more unstable?” you mutter, not expecting an answer “As an alloy, maybe, or would that make it worse..” you tap the pen on your cheek in thought before scrambling to write your thoughts in the margins of Jayce’s research

“I don’t see reading through your essays and research papers as work”, he admits, a shameless smile gracing his face as he watched you mumble to yourself “More of a palate cleanser, really”

“I just thought that a rest day was supposed to be resting, like having time away from work?” you tried to put the idea of leaving and maybe getting some sleep into the man’s head, his eyebags were becoming a permanent feature on his face like a shadow he cannot be rid of.

“Quite hypocritical, don’t you think?” a teasing look on his face at your words “Is today not also your day off?” he questioned even though he knew the answer. You simply rolled your eyes, trying to smile as he barked out a laugh.

While today was your break from lessons, it had quickly become anything but a rest day after you took the boys up on their offer, there was no way that you could complete your last year's work and help them if you didn’t give up your rest day- so undoubtedly you were a hypocrite, much to your chagrin.

“Just because I give up my days off to help you doesn’t mean you need to do the same,” you tell him, not wanting the man to feel obligated to help you.

“Maybe I want to?”

Well, you can’t argue with that.

The two of them work on your rather small desk with an ease you wouldn’t expect, but you find yourself very comfortable working alongside him and somehow, the work seems to go by faster.

Maybe it was because you wouldn’t need to spend countless hours trying to figure out what chicken scratch either of them had written on your own. Instead, a second pair of eyes, Viktor’s eyes, made the process go by much faster, albeit with some laughter at what on earth either of them had written. You had even managed a trip to the library, something you rarely had time for, usually going to pick up books for the boys the day after, or Jayce would go the day after with a slip of paper. Not only did you and Viktor have the time to pick up some books, but you also went through and verified if they could have something useful inside.

The sun was still shining bright in the sky when you and Viktor had dropped everything off at his lab, still a few hours left of the day. It was an uncharacteristically nice day outside, certainly warmer than you would’ve expected from the spring in Piltover, so the two of you decided to eat your packed lunches outside on a bench within the academy grounds, both too tired to bother going exploring the city for somewhere nicer.

“Now you have helped me, do you think I could convince you to go home and get some sleep, the bags under your eyes are also large enough to be considered their entities” You smiled, laughing quietly at the man sitting next to you as he coughed back his food, clearly not expecting your smartmouth

“As if you’re one to talk”, he quipped as you let out a shocked gasp, though quickly matching his smile

“How about I promise to go back to my apartments and take a breather if you go to yours?” you propositioned. Honestly, some time in bed sounded heavenly

“Only if I walk you back, I don’t want you to sneak back to your office, I hear you can often find yourself in places you aren’t supposed to”, he joked

“It’s a deal then” Both of you chose not to comment on the matching grins on your faces.

—

When Heimerdinger said your last year of study would be the hardest, you believed him. But never did you imagine you could be so swamped.

This past week, you had corralled a table in the library to yourself, spending more time sitting in the uncomfortable seat than anywhere else. It was deadline season, and to say it was hitting you hard was an understatement. No matter how well prepared you thought you were, the workload was unimaginable, leaving you with barely enough time to sleep or eat. Jayce had joked that during his last year, he essentially became a book within the library, and while it was funny at the time now, you understood why, feeling more and more like an encyclopedia by the day.

Luckily for you, your self-imprisonment was soon coming to an end; all you needed to do was read through your coursework one more time, and it would all be done, your last piece of work as a student of the academy. You would dwell on its bittersweetness another time as you read through another paragraph, completely absorbed in your work, completely missing the familiar sounds of footsteps and the tapping of a cane coming your way.

“I swear I need to get a tracker on you” Your head shot up at the sound of Viktor’s voice

“I’m not that hard to find”, you complain as he sits himself down in the chair closest to yours, cane leaning against the table

“I don’t think you get much of a say on the matter, your not the one who has to aimlessly wander around the academy”

“Whatever”, you glower, attempting to get back to your reading when his hand reaches out to grab yours. you jolt, looking up as he intertwines your fingers

“How are you doing be honest” he holds eye contact as his thumb rubs at your index fingers, stopping just after he knuckle before traveling back up

You smile “I’m drowning”

he hums “I can tell” You slump rather unceremoniously into your chair, eyes closed as he continues to rub affectionately at your knuckle, a half-hearted attempt to seep all the tension away from you “Have you got much more to do?” he questions voice soft

“No, just need to read through it once more, then it should be good to submit” You let out a large breath of annoyance, wishing you were finished, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep

“Then you’re done?” he probes

“Completly done, well, until my contract starts as a researcher in the summer”, you clarify, eyes opening slightly, not missing the slight smile on his face, looking down when you heard a rustling of papers only to see Viktor’s non-occupied hand grabbing at your work.

“Take a break; I’ll give it the last read-through. Knowing you, it’s already perfect.” his soft yet stern voice didn’t leave much room for argument, so you closed your eyes again, only for a moment letting the constant feel of his thumb lull you into a calm you had never known.

It was only, however, when you heard the unmistakable voice of Jayce that your eyes opened again, you sent a sheepish smile his way at the admittance that you had, in fact, fallen asleep, trying not to laugh too loudly at his remarks on how much Viktor must have been boring you, if only he knew.

—

Since you had officially handed in all your work and your classes had finished, you now found yourself with a lot of free time, a prospect Viktor and Jayce very much enjoyed. Coming every morning to your door to walk you to their lab for a day of work. Not that you minded, but before Hextech, your plans for the summer would’ve been reading or doing whatever Heimerdinger would see as befitting, so the work was beneficial to you, stopping you from going extensional on what it is you want to dedicate your academic life to, especially since you had no ideas, other than those to help the boys revolutionalise hextech, their current program with the hexgates you were sure was due a breakthrough any day.

You found yourself sat at Jayces desk, him gone for the afternoon schmoozing with some counsellors to try and get as much funding off them as he could. You found yourself tapping along to the melody of the song Viktor had put on, the only time you could have music was when Jayce was out, as he claimed it was too stimulating for him. Working exactly where the man had left off, creating a small prototype of the hexgate, one of many that were to be used in tests planned for later in the week. You barely batted an eye as Viktor appeared next to you, used to him appearing closer than most would

“It’s looking good”, he gestured to the model in your hand you simply hummed in response, adding the final gear, shoulders slumping when you put it down.

“How many do we need again?” you ask, hands rubbing at the tension in your neck from huddling to get a good look at what you were doing.

“Too many”, you groaned at his sheepish admittance. It was silent for a moment or so before he spoke again, an unknown quality to his voice that made you look up at him in confusion.

“Jayce and I were thinking..” he trailed off slightly

“Oh no”, you joked, smiling when you caught the amusement now on his face

“I know, how scary”, he smirked “Anyway, as you’re coming back as a scientist for the academy, we thought, why not make your place with us permanent.”

“Really?” you questioned, do they honestly want you to help them all the time with the work that could improve lives and be the history pages?

“I don’t think we’d be able to function without you now” he admitted

“I’d love to,” you tell him smiling

“Good”, the relief flooded the man “Because we already asked and got the go-ahead from Heimerdinger”, he confessed

“That confident?” you teased

“Obviously”

—

You thought you had done a good job at pretending that today was just any other day, but clearly, as Viktor sat next to you with a cupcake with a candle in it - you had been wrong.

“How did you know today was my birthday? I didn’t tell anyone?” you asked, astonished.

“Heimerdinger told me”, he revealed after you stared at him, clearly pleased with himself

“How does that end up in conversation?” you wonder

“Don’t be so nosey”, he teases, hand coming to grab at your nose

“Says the one who went to our mentor to ask about my personal life”, you accused, but the large smile on your face showed no malice in your words

“Touche”, he forfeited this round, lighting the candle on the cake before pushing it back into your face you simply sent him a look of victory before blowing out the candle, he quickly disposed of the candle before giving you the cake to eat

“Got any big plans for twenty-one?” he wondered aloud

“Work with you” You shrugged your shoulders, laughing lightly as you dug into your birthday cake

“A noble pursuit, I’m sure” It was silent for a short while as you finished your cake, but you didn’t make a move to speak, knowing the look on his face, he wasn’t done “Not going out celebrating? With a boyfriend, maybe?”

“No, no boyfriend, never had the time for any of that. Heimerdinger told me that when a woman dedicates her life to academia, she does not bother dreaming of a family or a relationship, and I agree not many would be able to handle it. Why do you ask?” you admit

“Don’t want to be stepping on anyone’s toes is all”, he speaks nonachanlty despite his words being anything but

“Well, your not”, you promise, lacing a hand with his

“Good” he brings your hand up his lips

—

You both had way too much stuff. The prospect of moving in together while still exciting the amount of work you had left made you gnaw at your bottom lip. You had a lot of help from Jayce and a rather reluctant Caitlyn to get the boxes into your and Viktor’s new home, and while she commented on its quaintness, it was certainly bigger than anywhere the two of you had ever dreamt of living in

“A family home”, Heimerdinger had teased the two of you when you told him, and you suppose he was right. You didn’t think much about the two spare rooms when you had purchased the house, thinking they would probably be offices, but Viktor absolute reluctance and disdain at your idea to turn one of the rooms into a library after looking at the sheer amount of books the two of you owned made you think differently, it wouldn’t take a smart man to know what he wanted to do with them.

“Stop that” Viktor pulled your bottom lip away from your teeth, an annoyed glint in his eyes, clearly thinking about how many times he had told you those same words you simply kissed his thumb, making him smile at your affection

“There’s so much to do”, you inwardly groaned as you rested your head on his shoulder, making sure not to put too much of your weight on him

“We have the week; don’t need to do it all tonight”, he reminds you, giving a kiss on the top of your head

“Come on, I’ve already started in our room” You straighten up and follow him into your room looking at the picture frames he had already put around the room, one was placed on his bedside table, a photo Jayce had taken at your graduation with your cap and gown arms warped around Viktor a huge smile, all teeth as you look at the camera while Viktor is smiling proudly looking at you, smiling at the photo you move on to the frame he placed on the dresser, a piece of paper framed within it your hands grip the frame looking at the familiar words you had written:

‘The greatest scientific ventures are the ones that bend the rules of the institution’

You turned to the man who was busying himself with a box filled with jumpers you had never seen him wear

“You kept this?” you smile as he turns around, noticing his bashful expression at being caught.

“You holding it, arent you?” he asked, trying to drive the conversation

“Why,” you asked, not giving up so easily even as he caressed your face in an attempt to distract you groaning, he relented, he could not give you what you wanted, ever so spoiled by him you were

“At first, it was to remind me that it was all worth it”

“At first?” you echo

“Then I kept it because it reminded me of you, of the future I want us to have, and that will only be possible if I kept working, even if it means going beyond the council and what they want.”

“I was only shadowing your view, what you had said to Heimerdinger, something I wasn’t even supposed to hear”, you remind him.

“Well, I’m glad you did”, he admits “And I’m even more glad that you stole Jayces book because bending the rules is what brought us together”, his hand not on his cane gripped at your hip.

“I’m glad I did, too”, you confirm your words with a kiss.

#viktor arcane x reader #viktor x you #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #arcane x reader #arcane

1K notes · View notes