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#FINALLY I got around to writing out a proper post for this
year-of-whump-tropes · 6 months
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Year of Whump Tropes Event!
As the name suggests, this is a whump event with a focus on tropes that tend to appear in whump.
Format:
The event will run for a whole year (2025). Each month in that year will have a general theme that appears in whump. Each month will have four weeks with their own sub-theme that falls under the monthly theme. Each week will have seven days, so each month will have 28 event days regardless of how many days are actually in the month. Each day will have a specific whump trope prompt that falls under the week's theme.
An example I gave previously was that a monthly theme could be "nonhuman whump," a weekly theme within that month could be "vampire whump," and a daily trope prompt within that week could be "burned with silver." (These aren't in the final themes list, but I still like it as an example because it's nice and clear.)
Most or all days will also have a second prompt, but what kind of prompt it is will vary from day to day, and I won't be able to fully work out the logistics of this until the event planning is further along. I'd like some days to have a dialogue prompt, some to have a discussion prompt that invites people to talk about whump/writing/preferences etc. instead of being a creative prompt, and maybe some days will have a second trope prompt depending on how many of the different kinds of prompts I come up with.
This event will be very flexible. You can use the monthly theme as a prompt, the weekly theme as a prompt, or one or both of the day's prompts; and you can switch between these at will. You don't have to fill prompts on the specific day/week/month they're listed under; you can do it anytime in the year, in any order. If you wanted to complete the whole event in one week that would be allowed (if inadvisable, lol).
There will be multiple levels of completionist, so you can be recognized for filling a prompt for each month, filling a prompt for each week, or filling a prompt for each day in the event. I'll also make an achievement somewhere along the lines of "fill a different prompt each day for 28 days straight" for people who would like to use this as a 1-month event instead of the whole year.
Participation in any format is allowed, but this is made primarily with writing in mind so prompts will tend to be geared towards writers.
Current stages:
This event will officially start at the beginning of 2025 and run through that year. However, I would like a lot of the event to be driven by participant input and feedback, so I will be providing numerous opportunities for potential participants to participate in the planning stages, which is what's currently happening.
You will be able to submit potential themes and prompts, and to vote on themes via polls. So if you're interested in being a part of that, I suggest you follow this blog so you can see announcements and polls as they come.
I'm also open to hearing any feedback and suggestions you might have. My ask and submission boxes are both open and I have anon enabled.
NOTE: The event format is tentative at this time and any aspect of it may be changed if necessary.
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dubiousdoctors · 1 year
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the combination of 'i have to hang out and have fun right now or otherwise i will explode' and 'i am feeling too ill and uncomfortable and generally unpleasant to really enjoy conversing let alone have any other kind of fun' is horrible actually
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ladadiida · 1 year
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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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
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"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."
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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
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reyenii · 4 months
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since edwin is very closed off, except for when he’s with his best friend, charles, costume designer kelli dunsmore reflected his buttoned-up mentality through his bespoke suit, complete with bowtie and collar. edwin’s outfit, along with charles’ period garb, were designed to help them stand out more in modern day port townsend. “i knew edwin would, because no one dresses like that now,” says dunsmore.
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dunsmore wanted everything about charles to feel “a little bit cool and underground,” from his union jack and the who bull’s-eye patches to his checkerboard pins. his little cross earring and chain on the outside of his shirt are also meant to be homages to the ’80s.
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in the show, crystal’s hero color is purple, which you’ll notice in her velvet coat and long silk letterman jacket, which dunsmore thought of as a psychic cloak with hand-embroidered patches, including the wilting rose of england.
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her brown trench coat represents an explosion of everything going on in her mind. dunsmore decided the scribbled words and drawings are a result of crystal writing all over it to express her inner turmoil. there are even lyrics on there from the song she’s listening to on the tube when she meets the dead boys.
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david’s connection with crystal seeps into her wardrobe, too. since david wears a flower shirt, dunsmore’s team hand-painted flowers onto crystal’s black boots. and niko is wearing a dark sweater with flowers on it when we first meet her, as an homage to crystal. the costume department also drew the same rune pattern the dead boys use to exorcise david in episode 1 onto crystal’s trench coat and on the tab of her wool bomber jacket. “so she’s always got some sort of protection,” says dunmore.
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every color niko wears is inspired by what’s happening in that episode, from the green post-sprite exodus to blue when she’s feeling sad. niko only wears a white look, with nods to her japanese heritage, in the finale as a reset. the charms on her obi belt represent the colors she’s worn all season.
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night nurse is someone who’s in control all the time and likes things to be in their proper place. dunsmore looked to vivienne westwood for inspiration, since everything in night nurse’s world is a bit exaggerated. (by the way, niko’s orange monochromatic look is a nod to her scenes with night nurse and night nurse’s red hair.)
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since david is a demon, he finds a london boy that looks cool enough for crystal to find attractive. that meant dunsmore dressing him in a shearling jacket you’d find in “all the guy ritchie movies,” black pants and creeper shoes. the costumer’s mood board for “david the d” featured radiohead and amy winehouse and her husband blake, who often wore hats similar to the one you see david wearing in the show.
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pay close attention to monty’s leather jacket and you just might spot an inlaid crow feather or two.
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it’s not only esther who wears clothes with a gilt, old-gold color — cat king and night nurse also do as a nod to their villainy. (esther and cat king also have similar fur coats.) amidst her beauty, dunsmore wanted esther to be a little rough around the edges. she wears a cuff around her hand that’s adorned with a snake and a ring with teeth all around it to represent the teeth she’s collecting from all the little girls. her eye necklace is meant to be her witch pendant.
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mischievous as ever, cat king has (cat) eyes everywhere and is aware of edwin’s affection for charles. so he wears charles’ socks the first time he meets edwin.
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lxkeee · 8 months
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE
pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fanfiction
notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]
warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR
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Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.
“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.
His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.
He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.
Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?
As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.
“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?
Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.
“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”
Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.
Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.
“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.
My Dearest Lucifer
His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer
“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.
My Dearest, Lucifer
       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.
“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).
“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.
“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?
Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.
Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.
How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.
But now...
Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.
Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.
“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.
Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.
He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.
[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.
Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.
Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.
“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.
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A bit of a timeskip....
It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.
Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.
“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.
“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”
[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.
Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”
[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”
Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”
“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.
“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.
“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.
“That's it, you've crossed the line!”
“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”
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You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.
Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.
After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.
I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.
Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.
[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.
Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.
Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.
I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.
I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.
Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?
For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.
Terrifying.
[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.
“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.
Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.
It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.
She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.
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END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE
TAGLIST:
@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover
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vivwritesfics · 11 months
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Better Than He Ever Was - MV1
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This gif makes me feral - I am on my KNEES
Y/N is pregnant and Max is sweating
Related works: Mini Me Prodigy
When Y/N Verstappen found out she was pregnant with Fabian, Max was terrified. He was utterly, utterly terrified.
He played it well, cheering and happy smiles when Y/N showed him the pregnancy test. To everybody on the outside, he was the overjoyed father to be, talking about Y/N and their baby on the way any chance he got.
There were very few people who saw beneath the facade Max was putting on. The first was Christian Horner, who himself was like a father to Max. The next was Charles Leclerc, who was way too excited at rhe prospect of being an uncle that he forgot he wouldn't actually be related to the baby.
Both said the same thing: that Max should talk to Y/N about it.
But where was he to begin? How did he tell her, after seeing how happy she was, that he wasn't ready to have a baby.
When she started showing? Oh boy.
It was never something Y/N wanted to keep hidden. As soon as she had all the tests she had taken come back positive, she posted something to all of her social media's. Max did, too, playing his part well.
Y/N didn't wear baggy clothes to hide her bump; she showed it off with pride. At every single grand prix she'd be standing beside her husband, hand over her stomach and the press took pictures of them.
Most husbands, when their wife's baby bump began showing, would be over the moon. But when Y/N started showing, it just made Max more fearful.
Y/Ns very first proper indication of the was when they were discussing baby names.
Any moment she got, Y/N was writing down potential names. She had at least twenty of each.
"How do you like Felix?" Y/N asked him as they watched a movie together. Max had been sim racing all day; this was the first proper moment she'd had to spend with him. "Or Daniel?"
"Daniel can be the middle name if it's a boy," Max said as he fed her a Malteaser.
Y/N moved over to her list of girls names. "If it's a girl, I liked Mila. Thought Mila Verstappen had a really nice ring to it."
Max just hummed.
It was two weeks after that Y/N finally sat him down.
"What's going on with you?" She asked, her hand resting on her bump. That morning her snack of choice had been stroopwafels, and she'd accidentally finished the entire box (but who could blame her? They're addictive).
"What do you mean?" Asked Max as he lifted the box to see what he was inside. Nothing, empty. He made a mental note to buy more.
A terrible, horrible feeling settled in Y/Ns stomach. "Please, Maxie," she placed her hand over his, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. "Tell me what's going on. I'm begging you!"
Max let out a huff. He hated himself. "I love you," he said, which definitely wasn't concerning. "I love you so much and I know how excited you are to have our baby, but I don't know if I can do it."
Her heart was beating so loud she was sure Max could hear it. "Wha-what are you trying to say?"
"I'm trying to say that I'm so fucking scared, Y/N. I'm terrified of being a dad. What if I raise our child like my dad raised me and the kid ends up like me? I'd never be able to forgive myself if that happened."
Oh. This wasn't a dire as Y/N thought it was. This was something she could deal with. "Come here," she said softly and tried to pull his chair closer. Max shuffled over. He let Y/N wrap her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember last summer, when we went on holiday with my sister and her kids? Do you remember how they loved you so much that they wouldn't leave you alone?"
They'd rented out a villa. Max and Y/N had just come back from their honeymoon when Y/N's sister had invited them away.
As soon as they had their things unpacked, the kids grabbed their uncle Max's hands and dragged him into the pool. "Let's race!" The oldest shouted. Max was more than happy to oblige. He raced them to the other side of the pool and back, letting them win, of course.
When Y/N and his sister started on lunch, Max was blowing up the inflatable pool toys and looking after the baby. He was a natural with all three of them. Y/N watched them out of the window as she buttered the bread and passed it to her sister. That was when she realised how wonderful of a father Max was going to be. That was when she realised she wanted to have his children.
By the end of the holiday, the children were obsessed with him. According to Y/N's sister they didn't stop talking about him until at least two weeks after the holiday.
Max nodded his head. At first he'd been secretly reluctant to entertain the kids. But he loved it, and he actually found it fun. Of course, it wouldn't be the same when it was his own child.
"You're going to be an amazing father, Max. You're so kind and caring and kids love you. Plus, you're aware of how shitty your dad was to you, you know what you have to differently," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I'll be there with you every step of the way," Y/N whispered and kissed the top of her head.
Max was still terrified, but he was trying not to be. But Y/N saw him change. He really did become that cheering and happy father he was pretending to be at the start.
Aside from Formula One, Max's life became getting Y/N whatever she and the baby were craving. Stroopwafels, mostly.
They discussed names more when Max became more comfortable. He was a big fan of Nora. Nora Sophie Verstappen. It had a very nice ring to it, Max thought. Little baby Nora.
They'd struggled to settle on a name for a boy. After Max had suggested his mothers name for the baby's middle name, Y/N was afraid Jos' name was going to be thrown into the mix. Not after all of Max's fears and anxiety. They'd decided Hugo, Hugo Verstappen was to be his name.
If it was up to Y/N, Jos wouldn't be in the child's life. But, of course, it wasn't just up to her. It was a decision she and Max had to make together.
When they found out they were having a little boy, Y/N and Max were over the moon. They decorated the nursery, painting the walls to be like a Formula One track. The bottom third was all grass, the middle was the track and the rest was blue skies with fluffy clouds.
The track went all the way around the room, with little race cars painted onto the track. There was a little Red Bull with a 33 on it, and a little Ferrari with a 16. It was a friend who painted it for them, going into intricate details for the cars and garages.
And then Y/N went into labour.
All of those fears Max had managed to get past came flooding back. His wife was about to give birth to his little boy.
Max wasn't much help through the delivery. Actually, through most of it he wasn't allowed in the delivery room, since he was panicking too much.
He wasn't a Hugo. That was what Y/N and Max decided the moment he was born. He was a Fabian. Fabian Hugo Verstappen. He was the most gorgeous little boy in the world. That was all Max could think as he stared at him, cradles in his wife's arms.
His son. His boy.
"Welcome to the world, Fabian Hugo Verstappen."
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mistywaves98 · 6 months
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Something I was just scribbling in my notes but decided to post to make up for my lack of writing these days
¡Warnings!: Super self indulgent, written at 2 am so probably has a bunch of mistakes and descriptions that don't make sense, Scara is super mean here, No proper ending, Pure smut!
Scaramouche had wanted to do this for so long, to finally corrupt your innocent little mind as he reformed your insides with his cock. When your parents announced that they were going to be away for a few days, he jumped at his chance.
The next thing you knew, the side of your face was pushing smushed against the one of the many pillows strewn across your bed. The fluff was stained with your tears, sweat and drool, your cries muffled further by the material with each push of his hand holding you down. Another propped up your hips so he could drill his dick into you from a better angle.
You had no idea how perfect you looked from his view, body limp beneath him as he pounded away at your pussy. A groan resonated in his chest when he felt you clench around him again, signaling the approaching of your nth orgasm of the night. His other hand reached down to play with your swollen clit, rolling and pinching the sensitive bud between his nimble fingers, relishing the way your hips bucked into his hand subconsciously.
You knew you were about to cum too, and dread filled your mind. You genuinely felt like you couldn't handle another orgasm, and you attempted to make it known, "Please Scara—! Hnn.. N-no more! 'S too.. Ahhn...! Too much!" Scaramouche only chuckled at your whiny pleas, purposely increasing his pace just to spite you. He was determined to make you fall apart on his cock, over and over again if he could. Because you looked so fucking beautiful everytime you did.
A partly concealed scream fell from your mouth as your climax hit you like a truck. Your juices creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he kept up his pace. His eyes narrowed as tears fell from your eyes, replacing the ones that already dried from before. Scaramouche couldn't resist leaning down, his bare chest flush against your sweaty back as his tongue darted out to lick a wet stripe up the side of your face. He swore his cock got harder as he tasted the salty liquid on his tongue and his fingers dug into your delicate hips some more,"You taste so fucking delicious. Go on, cry some more f'me, baby. Never seen someone who looked as pretty as you when they cry.."
You might pass out if you were to endure much more of this. Your teary eyes desperately searched for something to ground yourself with and they fell on your favourite teddy bear that you slept with every night. It's beady eyes stared right back at you and you felt sorry that it had to witness you in such an unbecoming state. Scaramouche didn't even let you turn the faces of your stuffed animals to the wall when he made his intentions clear. Your hand desperately reached out to the toy and you clutched it as close as you could, attempting to find comfort within your inanimate companion.
Such luxury was only momentary when you realized your grasp was empty once more and your teddy was lying pitifully on the floor next to your bed. Your cry was followed by a sadistic laugh of his own as Scaramouche moved the hand that was holding your head down to grasp your cheeks, squeezing in a way that puckered your lips as he craned your neck painfully in his direction. "Oh, you're too adorable! Trying to distract yourself with a stupid bear? I have a better idea, why don't you take what I fucking give you like a big girl, hm? You're not five anymore, you know." His words were full of condescension and mockery, clearly intended to make you miserable.
Sobs mixed with pathetic whimpers keened from your sore throat as you were cruelly reminded of his dick splitting your walls apart. Your hands found purchase within your pillow instead as you desperately wished this would be over soon. Scaramouche watched your dainty form with a smirk on his face. Your incoherent babbling was cute, as was the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the undeniable pleasure he was forcing on you.
Oh, how Scaramouche delighted in seeing you become nothing but a dumbed down doll used for nothing but his pleasure. Don't get him wrong, he loves you, but he loves breaking you more. He makes a mental note in his mind to do this more often.
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buckyshoneybunny · 2 months
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Beautiful
 Bucky Barnes + Curvy!Female!Reader 
Summary- Bucky proves to you that you are beautiful. 
W.C.- 2623 
Warnings- Fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, 18+ Mdni! Oral (female), fingering, P in V sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that) 
A/N- First time writing smut, hope you like it. This got a little personal 😬 but to all my fellow curvy + plus size girls you are beautiful 😘. I’m thinking of writing a series, with either Alpha, roommate, neighbor, or biker Bucky, I can���t pick. Any suggestions or ideas, I will gladly listen. Also, thank you so much for all the love on my first story!! Please don’t post or steal my work, feedback is welcome. Hope you enjoy!  
Masterlist
You took another deep, shaky breath as you studied your reflection for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. Tonight was the big night; you and Bucky were going to be taking the next step in your relationship. After many dates and late-night talks, you were finally ready to take the next step. Bucky, the ever so perfect guy he is, was patient with you, assured you that he was perfectly fine waiting until you were ready. 
You and Bucky were making out on your couch, you straddling his lap, when you pulled away with a gasp. Bucky starts kissing down your neck, as his hands start to slide up your shirt you freeze.  
Having noticed this, he immediately stops and pull back to look at you. “You okay, peach?” You look away. 
He gently cups your face, his cold, metal hand soothing your burning cheeks. “Talk to me Babygirl, what’s wrong?”  
You bite your lip. “I don’t think I’m ready yet,” you whisper. “I know I should have said something sooner instead of waiting until we’re both worked up but I-” 
“Peach, breathe,” be cuts off your nervous ramble. He rearranges you both so that you’re not positioned over his bulge. “It’s okay, if you aren’t ready then we wait, okay?” He says softly. 
You glance down at his lap feeling guilty. “But what about-” 
“No, don’t worry about that. It’ll go away shortly. How about we cuddle and watch our show? I’m dying to see what happened to Angela,” he suggests. 
You nod after a moment and hug him. “Thank you, Bucky,” you mumble into his neck.  
“Anything for you, peach” 
It wasn’t because you were a virgin or wanted to do things the ‘proper’ way, although you never told Bucky why, he guessed it was because of how insecure you are of your weight. Okay, yes, you were a little curvy, yes multiple guys had laughed at you when you tried to get their attention or looked at you in disgust whenever you tried to wear something that showed a little skin. 
Yes, you were insecure about your weight, but that wasn’t the reason you wanted to wait. Bucky had made sure you knew he loved your curves, no matter how hard you tried to hide them. You often chose pants over shorts and never wore tank tops, but it wasn’t because of your weight- the team made sure you knew they loved you for you, you felt comfortable around them- no, it was because of your skin. 
See, you weren’t one of those girls who had smooth, shiny skin, and that’s why you never showed off anything more than your arms. You had cellulite, bumps everywhere, and pimples in places you wished you didn’t. Not one spot on your body was smooth or clear, it didn’t matter where you shaved or moisturized, every time you slide your hands up your arms or down your legs it was bumpy. You tried everything under the sun but nothing helped, only few things made it a little better, you couldn’t even use your favorite scented lotions that often because it only made them worse. The tan on your skin helped hide it, but it was still there. 
A ding from your phone pulled you back to the present, you picked it up and noticed Bucky had texted you. 
💖My love- Hey, peach! I’m really excited for tonight, and since tonight is a very special night, I got you a little something (with the help of Nat of course), check your closet 😉.  
You walk into your closet to see a long, white, plastic bag hung up with your other dresses. When you unzip it, you can’t help but gasp.  The dress is a long, V-neck red satin dress with double slits. Phone in hand, you text him back. 
You-This is gorgeous Buck, but I don’t know if it’ll look right on me. 
💖My love-I know it’s way out of your comfort zone but believe me, you’ll be the sexiest woman to have ever existed, you already are but you’ll look even more gorgeous. You don’t have to wear it but I hope you do, see you soon, peach 😘. 
Trusting Bucky, you decide to wear it. You put on some plum scented lotion, damn your skin- at least it’ll be soft-, and put the dress on. It fits perfectly, your tan hides your skins secrets and the dress hugs your curves, for once you actually feel sexy. You take your hair out of the French braids and spray on some watermelon scented perfume. Right as you finish putting on your heels, there’s a knock at the door. You grab your clutch and look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Taking a deep breath you open the door. 
Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes you in, you do the same when you see him. He’s in a perfectly fitting suit that shows off his defined muscles, it’s cotton and black, he has a white button up under the jacket with a red tie.  
“How do I look?’ You ask nervously. When he doesn’t answer you start to overthink.  
“God damn,” he mumbles under his breath. His eyes sweep over your body again. “I don’t think I have ever wanted your thighs wrapped around my head more than I do now,” he says distractedly, staring at your thighs.  
“Bucky!” You gasp and playfully smack his chest. He grins, grabbing your wrists, he puts them around his neck as his hands settle on your waist.  
He chuckles. “Seriously though, you look absolutely gorgeous.” He kisses you then slides over to kiss your neck; he breathes in deeply and groans. “Mmm. You smell delicious,” he mumbles against your skin. He slides his hands up your sides.  
“Cut it out, we’re gonna be late,” you giggle and move before his hands can reach the bare skin of your arms, avoiding his touch. He notices.  
“Alright, alright, come on, peach.” He grins and leads you to the elevator, his hand in yours.  
As the elevator closes, he asks, “When the hell did you get that tan?” 
“When everyone was gone on that one mission.” 
“Damn, I missed this gorgeous body half naked in the sun?” He playfully pouts.   
You snort and shake your head. 
Once you both get to the restaurant, the hostess takes you to your table. It’s the fancy Italian restaurant that takes months in advance to get a reservation.  
As the waiter leaves with your orders you ask, “How did you get a table here? It takes months in advance.” 
“Tony called in a few favors,” he grins. “I want tonight to be special,” he adds softly. His hand covers yours on the table. You smile at him and interlace your fingers together. 
“How come you won’t let me touch you?” He blurts out.  
You give him a confused look, “What do you mean? You’re touching me right now.” 
“No, I mean, you won’t let me touch your bare skin. At first, I thought maybe you had scars or something, that maybe that’s way you never wear shorts. But seeing you tonight, in that dress, I can’t fathom why you would hide your body.” He pauses for a moment. “Is it because of me?” He whispers, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. 
You quickly cup his face, “God no Bucky” You take a deep breath. “It’s just...” you trail off, unsure of how to put it. 
“What, peach? Please, tell me. I understand you wanting to wait for this long, I respect that, but every time we kissed or got a little handsy I could see that you wanted to keep going but you always stopped.” 
You sigh. “Part of it is my weight-” he goes to cut you off but you keep going. “But you’ve helped me feel more confident in my weight, but the insecurities are still there. The main reason is my skin...” 
“Your skin?” He deadpans. 
“The bumps everywhere, cellulite, and pimples everywhere Bucky. I don’t have that smooth clear skin like Wanda or Nat. That’s what I’m afraid of, that you’ll see the marks, feel the bumps on my legs, stomach, hell even my ass. That you’ll see the pimples in places that shouldn’t have any and you’ll break up with me or be disgusted,” you rant.  
“Okay, Y/N, deep breath. First of all, if I ever look at you in disgust, HYDRA must’ve taken over me. I love you and a few bumps and pimples won’t change that.” He holds your hands in his.  
“It’s more than just a few Bucky.” He narrows his eyes as he studies you. The waiter brings your food, Bucky starts to shovel the food into his mouth.  
“Eat,” he says around a mouthful of garlic bread. “I need to get you home to prove to you how beautiful you are.” 
Once you both are done, he pays and all but drags you out to the car. He pushes you up against the side of the car, smashing his lips to yours.  
“If you’ll let me, I want to show you how much I love you and this body.” He says breathlessly. “Please,” he adds, almost whining. You nod.  
On the drive back, you get a burst of confidence. You glance over at Bucky, he’s tense, barely maintaining the speed limit, desperate to get home. You look down and see a very large, very noticeable bulge. Fuck he looks huge. 
You reach over and place your hand on his thigh, slowly sliding it up. Bucky glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Peach,” he warns. You cup his bulge and he inhales sharply. You trace your finger over him, teasing. You cup him again and squeeze, right as he stops for a red light. He groans and bucks his hip up into your hand, his reaction sending a shoot of arousal through you. 
Once you finally reach the tower, he drags you to his room, once inside he shoves you against the door and devours you mouth with his. He spins you around and grabs the zipper of the dress.  
“You sure you’re ready, peach?” You nod. “I need words baby,” he whispers against your neck. 
“Yes Bucky, I’m ready.” He, painfully slow, pulls the zipper down. The dress pools at your feet, he turns you back around. 
His knees almost buckle. You’re standing there in nothing but a baby pink lingerie set and black heels. “Fuck peach,” he moans. He drops to his knees and kisses your stomach. “These curves” he grips your hips, “This ass,” his hands move to squeeze your ass, bordering painful. “This body, baby, I’m never letting you keep it from me again.” His kisses his way down your stomach. “You many have bumps and pimples, and cellulite, but that just add to the uniqueness of the gorgeous body. Y/N, baby, you are perfect, so fucking sexy, just looking at you I could cum in my pants.” He throws your right leg over his shoulder.  
“Bucky,” you whimper. He noses your panty covered clit, inhaling deeply. 
“Fuck, you smell so good.” He pauses, “Do you have plum scented lotion on?” 
“Yeah...” You answer hesitantly. 
He shoves his nose in the crease of your thigh. “Fuck, I didn’t know they made that,” he groans.  
“You like it?” You giggle. 
“I fucking love it, peach.” He licks your cloth covered core, making you moan. He pulls your panties to the side and growls. “This has got to be the prettiest pussy I have ever seen Babygirl.” That’s the only warning you get before he’s eating you out like a starved man.  
He swirls his tongue around your clit before sucking it into his mouth. He brings his metal hand up and slowly inserts his pointer finger. You buck against his face, you lace your fingers through his hair, him being the only thing keeping you upright.  
“Fuck you taste so good, so fucking tight,” he moans into your pussy, sending vibrations through you. He slowly adds a second finger, then a third. Curling them to hit that spongy spot, making you see stars.  
“I-I’m close... Please don’t stop Bucky,” you moan.  
“Wouldn’t dream on it Babygirl, cum for me.” 
You go limp against the door as you cum, gripping his hair tighter, almost to the point of painful, but it only makes him harder. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, helping you ride out your high. Once you come down, he pulls away and stands up. You yank him down by his tie, crashing your lips to his, moaning at your taste on his tongue.  
“How ya feeling, peach?” He whispers against your lips. 
“I want you inside me, now,” you answer. 
He chuckles, “Yes ma’am.” He quickly sheds the rest of your clothes and shoves you on his bed, not before smothering your chest in open mouthed kisses though.  You lean up on your elbows to watch him undress, gasping as his cock springs free from his boxers.  
“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he winks and joins you on the bed. Siting on his haunches, he wraps your legs around his waist and shoves his knees under your thighs. He rubs the head of his cock through your folds, teasing you.  
“Bucky please,” you whine. 
“I like the sound of you begging,” his voice deep and rough. In one smooth motion he enters you. You gasp and he moans once he’s fully sheathed inside you. 
“Fuck you’re so big,” you moan and dig your nails into his back. He stays still, letting you adjust. When you buck your hips up to let him know you're ready, he just groans and buries his face in your neck. 
“Fuck, give me a minute,” he mumbles, already pussy drunk.  
You giggle and card your fingers through his hair. After a second, he pulls almost all the way out and sets a punishing pace.  
“God damn you’re tight, almost made me cum like a horny teenager.” You moan at his words. With atilt of his hips, the tip of his cock pounds into your g-spot.  
“James!” You moan, nails dragging down his back.  
He shivers. “Fuck, say my name again.” 
“James harder! I’m gonna cum, James, please let me cum.” You whine in his ear.  
He groans and fucks you harder. “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock like a good girl.” 
Your thighs squeeze his hips. Back arching, head thrown back, nails digging into his sides you cum, squirting all over his cock.  
“Holy shit,” he moans as he watches you. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, just barely hold his off. His thrusts grow sloppy. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, where do you want it?”  
You lock your ankles on his lower back, your hands grip his ass, nails digging into the plump flesh. “Inside, please, James, I want your cum in me” 
“Fuck! Y/N!” He roars as he cums. He buries himself as deep as he can as ropes of cum shoot into you. He collapses onto of you, panting. You rub his back and scratch at his scalp as you both catch your breath; he places open mouthed kisses on your neck. He sucks a hickey on your neck, you shiver.  
“Believe me now when is say you’re gorgeous?” He picks his head up to look at you. 
You lean your forehead against his, “I don’t know, I think I might need some more convincing.” He grins, already getting hard again thanks to the serum.  
“My pleasure.” It was going to be a looong night. 
Needless to say, you were much more confident in your looks after that. 
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rubra-wav · 7 months
Note
I had this interesting scenario where Vox one day becomes exhausted from his rivalry with Alastor after realizing that the one-sided interactions were becoming old. He later meets the reader (who can also be a part of the hotel) who starts hacking into Voxtech's database to troll the company for shits and giggles. This catches Vox's attention and he's pissed about it. You can do what you want for the rest but they continue to have this rivalry to the point where it's very well known around hell. From an outside perspective, there is just back-and-forth angry banter but there are moments where they're just;
Reader: *appears on screen* Hey Box head, guess who found some good blackmail with your name on it- Vox: *Is so close to having a breakdown, he had a bad week.* Reader: Oh shit- did something happen, are you okay? 😰
They hate each other but they don't hate hate each other. This can be taken as platonic or romantic. I sent this request to someone else but I wanted to share anyway.
Vox x troll/hacker reader: Why So Blue? (Oneshot/concept version)
Why So Blue fic Masterlist
A/N me when I get to write Vox getting utterly humiliated by a troll-y hacker demon 🫶
I changed about the order of stuff as things happen a bit and took creative liberties with this one - sorry if it's really different then the thought you originally had.
(REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, THIS WAS FROM THE LAST TIME THEY WERE OPEN)
Update: This was really well-received, and several people have requested a part 2. I've decided that I will be writing it properly from the start in a proper chapter kind of way rather than in this format so it makes continuity kind of work better rather then the drabbl-y format used here.
Cw: SFW, romantic, enemy's to lovers type beat, references to one-sided radiostatic, also references to staticmoth, mildly suggestive in one part 💀, gn reader, mostly light-hearted - idk if it qualifies as quite hurt/comfort lmao
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- It was just a normal morning for Vox when you first showed up.
- As usual, he booted up for the day, got changed out of his casual clothes, and made his morning coffee.
- As he walked into his computer room, absentmindedly sipping his coffee while looking at his phone, he sits down in his desk.
- Then promptly spits out his mouthful.
- When he finally looks up at the screens around him, he's mortified to see a muted video of himself passionately (and very drunkly) singing and dancing horribly from last night while he was out with Valentino and Velvette.
- Posted on Sinstagram from his own account.
- Hundreds of comments flooded in underneath it; laughing, saying it's cute, complimenting his singing, and talking about the caption underneath with curiosity.
- The caption reads; 'For someone who talks so big about being ahead technologically, it was awfully easy to hack old Boxy here LMAO'
- Vox flips out instantly.
- It doesn't take long to take down the post, change all of his details, and post an official apology for his lack of professionalism with a hypnotising message to forget the whole incident occurred at all. He also does a massive comb over for any other breaches and changes all of his systems to be even more impenetrable to a potional attack.
- He calms down, and the incident fades away to the back of his mind.
- But then it happens again.
- Another morning, an employee is rushing into his studio as he wakes up properly, telling him this time that someone is somehow broadcasting Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' to the entirety of hell at 6 am, interrupting every one of the scheduled programs.
- There's a message in big letters on the bottom of every screen in hell, under the god forsaken video and song playing, saying, "What is love~? - U" Underneath them.
- And that's how it starts, the infuriating thorn in Vox's side that is 'U'. No matter how hard he tries, you're constantly undermining his efforts to keep you out of the system and tormenting him in ways that aren't necessarily malignant but are extremely damaging to his image as the overlord of technology.
- For some reason, he's the only Vee you seem hellbent on coming after as well. Vel finds your pranks funny or cute when they don't inconvenience her, and Valentino just likes to prod Vox into getting angrier further.
- He just cannot work out what your motivations are at all. Is it truly that you just want to piss him off? He doesn't understand why someone with such clear skills would simply use them to taunt him and leave him messages to unveil as he undoes whatever you do.
- It vexes him even farther when these messages from you that you leave for him to decode start to sound borderline flirtatious, which makes him feel all the more humiliated.
- He is a grown demon, skilled businessman and entrepreneur, an overlord, and yet you insist upon calling him things like Box, Boxbabe, Boxbitch, and even babygirl of all things for some goddamn reason.
- The back and forth goes on for months, and 'U' quickly becomes a long lasting meme, several people, much to Vox's horror, shipping you two together and even partaking in ship wars as to whether Vox x 'U' is better then Vox x Val.
- Theres one day where Vox quickly puts his phone down after reading a rather concerning expert from what is certainly explicit fanfiction between the two of you, even him deciding that that's enough internet for today while just sitting staring off into space silently for a solid 10 seconds.
- Vox's sleepless nights pouring over his code to try and keep out your attacks, him glitching out whenever he finds infuriating messages left by you, etc. Begin to become routine and he just anticipates the consistent blows to his pride you give him at every turn.
- A weird, unconscious part of him deep down begins to enjoy your rivalry, almost wanting to see what punches you pull out next to disarm his constant losing battle to keep you out, but it gets squashed down the second he becomes aware of it.
- The rivalry is always at arms length, but sometimes he has to stop himself from replying with the same vaguely flirtatious tone you take on whenever he experiences a small win against you.
- He fights to make sure he doesn't have any potential of getting too into it.
- Things take a different turn, though, with the double blow of Alastor coming back and his on-off relationship with Valentino once again going up in flames.
- After stopping his usual monitoring of all things going on in hell online and in real life as picked up by his cameras, he presses his face into his hands with a long, exhausted groan as he fights crying.
- All the people he was actually interested in were as unrequited as per usual. He always tried so hard with Alastor, but as always, he never got anything but met with the clear reminder they would never be anything more.
- And, of course, any potential of anything more happening with Val was completely off the table. It would be stupid to even think about anything real with him.
- He shut his eyes, putting his screen on the desk in front of him.
- Was he just not worth it? Was that it?
- He startled when he heard the familiar crackle of the speakers coming to life around him. It was rare he ever heard your voice coming through his speakers, you usually preferring to just leave messages, however you decided to surprise him tonight apparently.
- Your blurred out face appears on the screens, only showing the lower half of your grinning face.
- "Oh Boooooxybooooy! I found some world-shattering cringey shit you did 2 months back, i-" You begin singing out, before stopping, seeing by his expression.
- Vox was trembling, looking as if he was about fall apart at any second. His monitor was dulled, red eyes half lidded with pixelated bags forming under them, his bottom lip slightly quivering around his sharp teeth.
- "What the- fuck- ....are you alright?" You asked unsurely.
- Vox finally snapped out of it, realising that you were here witnessing him in a way that was very much not something he wanted you of all people to see him in. His mask slid back on, but it was hardly convincing.
- "Of course it is. What the fuck do you wa-ant. I've got shit to do." He inwardly cursed as his voice glitched slightly. God fucking dammit why did you have to show up.
- He watched your lips on your mostly blurred out face slightly curl as you hummed, clearly not buying it.
- "You wanna stop with the lying bullshit and tell me the truth, Boxhead?" You somewhat chided him, your hand coming into sight as you leaned your cheek onto it. Vox let out a growling sound, going to spit some vitriol at you, but was cut off as you absentmindedly made your next comment.
"Felt you once again have a fit about the radio demon going online. Lights in my house and the houses out my windows started flashing and shit. Is it hi-" your brows shot up and eyes widened, this hidden behind the censorship as you watched Vox, leader of the Vees, your rival, let out a shuddering breath and actually start crying comically pixilated tears right before your eyes.
- Vox's claws gripped into his desk as he grit his teeth as he let out a gasping breath he fought to stifle. He was so goddamn exhausted that he just couldn't be assed to keep it all up anymore. It wasn't like you hadn't seen rather unsavoury things he'd been trying to hide anyways.
- "No shit it's about Alastor. It's always about him. Does it get you off knowing I can't get with the guy I have always wanted no matter how hard I try? There. Are you fucking happy now?" His voice cracks as he snarls the words out at you.
- You let out a long humming sound, as if thinking. "I mean, not really. I'd only be happy if you were this upset over me, not some old hazbin radio announcer who fell off years ago." You shrug with a slightly sad smile.
- Vox squinted at you, confused.
- "I mean, come on, I'm your rival too. Why neglect me so much in all this?" You press your bottom lip out in mock sadness, tone mocking again. Your words are true despite the joking tone however, it did bother you that he always seemed so much more ready to go running after the most obviously aroace man you think you had seen in your entire fucking life.
- Vox couldn't believe what he was hearing, hot embarrassment caused his monitor to start heating up a bit, painting animated flush over his cheeks. "Oh, stop taking the piss, U. Fuck off." He scoffed, rolling his eyes, looking to the side in irritation.
- You chuckle at him, shaking your head and causing the thing blurring your face to shake with it. "Is it really that hard to believe I'm into what we have going on here?" Your voice is still lined with the usual tone you take on with him, but much less so.
- Vox looks back at your blurred, smiling face incredulously. "Yes." He growled, blinking his tears away as he regained his composure a bit.
- You sigh heavily, rolling your eyes. "Ooookay, well, once you're done riding the coattails of a man who will never want you, come hit me up, Boxhead." You say through smiling lips, before abruptly pressing 'hang up' on the call so he didn't have time to actually respond.
- Vox sat in bewildered silence, not able to react properly as his brain felt as if it was working on low resolution comprehending what you just said.
- His face heated up the more he thought about it, heart beginning to hammer in his chest as he laughed in disbelief. No way. No fucking way.
- But you had said it.
- Despite his usual pessimistic nature, he allowed himself to actually believe it, chuckling.
- He looked over to his phone as a notification sound rang out to see a photo of himself presumably just now; flustered, eyes wide in disbelief and unfocused while staring off into space, a crooked grin on his face.
- It was captioned as follows; 'POV: local pathetic radio simp finds out other rival actually wants him'
- "FUCK." He yelled out in embarrassment, knocking out several of his monitors with a surge of electricity.
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I loved writing this sm omfggg.
There's definitely part 2 potential to this one, but it would have to be in a while w all the other stuff I'm gonna get to first.
Masterlist
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strniohoeee · 2 months
Note
reader is down bad for matt, like she blushes, giggles, goes mute whenever he's around and he kinda enjoys it and one day he finally asks her to go an a date and it ends super fluffy
She’s Got It Bad
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Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Y/N was out of her mind in love with Matt, but she was shy. Which left her in awkward silent situations until one day Matt puts his foot down! 🌷
Warnings⚠️: None?? Writing kind of sucks also sorry if there’s grammatical errors I never proof read till two days later after I post lolll😭
Song for imagine: This Is How It Feels- D4vd, Laufey
So this is how it feels
To fall in love with you
To always think of you
To always dreams of you
You know when you’re reading or watching a romance book or movie, and one of those super cheesy slow mo scenes happen? Where an 80s love song is queued and the two love interests stare at each other while their hair oh so dainty blows in the wind? And you’re curling your toes as your heart beats for the next scene to happen? Just thinking “I need more! Give me more!” And then it goes back to reality and they end up walking right past one another….
And it wraps you into this hour and a half or 230 page book/movie about the girl wanting the guy….but the guy not really wanting her or simply seeing her as a sister or painfully shoving her in the friend zone? And you’re itching for more. Tired of this back and forth of who will get one another first?
And if you said yes to any of those questions then you are sure looking at my life right now…stuck painfully stuck in the friend zone. Mainly because I put myself there. Let's face it, I'm deeply afraid of rejection. Why ruin something that is virtually perfect.
I had it bad for Matt and I’m not so sure he felt the same way, but I’d never in a million years ever jump at that. I’d rather rip my ears off and tape them to the concrete and then run them over consistently for an hour… okay a bit graphic and a bit over the top but you get the point. He’s off limits and I’ve got it bad for him…
Most of our interactions consisted of short conversations, me blushing like an idiot and even sometimes going silent..offering a nod here and there. It’s even gotten to the point of having to leave the hangout because I was so nervous around him. I mean what if I said something that he found cringey? What if I embarrassed myself which I tend to do a lot might I add? Or even worse…what if he didn’t find me funny?
All these terrible instances bounced off my brain like a bullet ricocheting off of metal walls. As I sat chewing my lip, suddenly my thoughts were interrupted
“Helloooooo” I heard loudly from the other end of the phone call
Blinking out of my trance I soon realized I had been on the phone.
“I’m sorry Nick I got side tracked” I replied gripping the phone again
“Yeah I can tell you went rogue for like 3 minutes there, did you even hear what I asked you?” He asked laughing
“Uhhh yeah and I think you should go with the yellow shirt” I replied praying I wasn’t so far off from what he was talking about
“That was like 10 minutes ago, I asked are you coming or what?” He said huffing
“I’m sorry? Coming? Where?” I asked again as I furrowed my eyebrows
“This is why I don’t call you, you have the attention span of a fly” he said laughing which caused me to laugh
“I’m sorryyyy I was thinking about something” I replied to him
“Aren’t you always… I was asking if you were coming over tonight for movie night?” He said shuffling around
“Ohhh duhh of course I never miss Saturday nights with you” I said getting up to pack my overnight back
“Even though Matt and Chris are joining us this time?” He asked
This is where I hadn’t been listening previously and I almost choked on my saliva trying to form a proper answer.
“Uh.. *ahem* yes of course they can join us” I replied trying to seem chill
“Wow sooo nonchalant about that” he stated sarcastically
“Oh will you shut up” I replied stuffing my duffle bag
Nick opened his mouth to speak but on the other end it sounded like someone walked in his room
“Matt get the fuck out I’m on the phone” Nick said which made me laugh a bit
“Who are you talking to?” I heard Matt ask his brother
“Your girlfriend now fuck off” he said almost hissing at Matt
“NICK STOP” I squeaked over the phone
“I don’t have a girlfriend you sicko” Matt stated sounding annoyed…. I looked up at my imaginary camera (hmm how do I take that response) I thought.
Shaking that feeling off I returned to the call
“Okayyy bye nickkkk see you in a bit” I replied rushing him off the phone
Hanging up the call I sighed deeply… if I wasn’t already nervous to possibly run into Matt then oh boy was I in for a treat
Usually, Saturday nights were for Nick and I and I rarely ever ran into Matt or Chris. Usually it was Chris and him and I had a cool bond. We’d stop to hug and chat for a bit before Chris left to go out. And if I ever ran into Matt it was him leaving with Chris which prompted me to wave slightly and avoid all hugs. Rambling on about Nick needing me for something upstairs each time and not even giving them the chance to respond.
I usually shut my eyes and shook my head when I turned away from them and even muttered a few unkind words about myself to myself….
But tonight…tonight Matt was joining us which meant I couldn’t be awkward around him or else Nick would for sure point it out.
I had gotten to their house with dinner for all of us which we landed on chilis…. Good thing I was 21 I needed a to go drink…preferably strong!
Sitting in their living room as we all began to eat, Nick scrolled through Max as we sat on the floor with our food on the coffee table.
“We should watch Silver Linings Playbook I heard it was good” I said looking over at the tv as Nick had just passed the movie
“I’m down” Chris said shrugging his shoulders
Nick and I usually watched action movies where we’d see a bunch of sweaty hot men fighting bad guys. And most of those movies we’d just yell out if we’d smash the guys or not. I don’t know that Matt and Chris would want to take part in that so a rom-com was for the win!
Max was playing a few ads before the movie and as I was sipping my margarita in a styrofoam to go cup (how niche) Matt had called my name
Looking over at him I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Do you like rom-coms?” He asked me
I felt my ears getting hot and my face too….good thing I’m drinking and I can just blame it on the alcohol.
“I do, I love them actually” I replied nodding at him
“I love them too” he said smiling at me as he ate a fry
“Nice” I said nodding my head and looking over at the tv…why the fuck were their ads still playing? Squinting I turned back around to face him
“Uhh what’s your favorite?” I asked him clearing my throat
“I’d have to say 10 things I hate about you” he replied wiping his hands
“SHUT UP! Me too” I replied getting really excited and loud (blaming it on the alcohol once again)
“No way” he replied laughing
“No! like I swear! I have all the romance movies I’ve ever seen ranked in my notes app and 10 things I hate about you is number one, look see” I replied rambling as I opened up my app and showed him
His brows raised…an impressed look might I add
“Wow Y/N didn’t know you were such a hopeless romantic” he said winning at me
This made my heart flutter and my voice disappear? Sinking into my skin I nodded at him before turning to watch the tv
Throughout the whole movie I kept catching Matt looking at me but he’d look away quickly. This made my skin crawl in a good way though
The movie finished and I found myself emotional. I mean it wasn’t a sad movie but rather beautiful. Nick and Chris had gone to lay on the couch at some point in the movie.
So to no surprise Matt and I turned to find them fast asleep. Shaking our heads we cleaned up the living room and headed to the kitchen to place everything in the trash.
The hallway light illuminating the kitchen as I washed my hands
“I almost feel like Silver Linings Playbook is my number one rom-com” Matt and I both stated at the same time
Laughing I shut the water off and turned towards him
“I guess we really are similar” I said to him as I crossed my arms over my chest
“I suppose so, but I wouldn’t know you’re always running away from me” he said quietly
“Am not!” I replied standing up straight
“You’re always running away from me as fast as possible, you don’t hate me do you” he stated as he wiped down the table
“No” I replied watching his every move
“Then why do you run away? Do I stink?” He asked laughing
“No! You just happen to catch me when I’m busy” I say lying through my teeth
“Right…I suppose so, I do know how to get you at the right time though” he stated throwing the paper out
“Do you?” I asked cocking an eyebrow
“Yeah…when I take you on a date and have all your attention so we can really get to know each other”he says
“Well we’re friends so I do know you” I reply rolling my eyes
“No…know me on a different level that’s not…friends” he says smiling at me sweetly
“Not friends?” Was all I could mutter
“Just say yes to the date you loser” he replied shaking his head
“Yes..sorry yes I will go on a date with you” I replied shaking my head and giggling
“You’ve ever seen Notting Hill?” He suddenly asks me
“I actually haven’t” I stated
“Want to watch it?” He asked me
“But Chris and Nick are sleeping” I replied pointing over my shoulder
“You miss queues don’t you?” He asked cocking an eyebrow
“They don’t call me a ditz for nothing” I replied jokingly
He looked at me with adoration in his eyes for a moment before opening his mouth
“I mean with me…just me” he replied with soft eyes
“Oh....yeah” I replied breathlessly as I shook my head…am I that fucking stupid? I thought to myself
We shut off the tv and the hallway light. Matt led me to his room as I followed behind. It felt so foreign being in a room with a new undertone to it….more than friends
“You can sit closer I won’t bite” he says as he looks over at me
“Right, sorry” I say sitting closer to Matt against the headboard
The air felt awkward as we watched the movie, but Matt slid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in
“I’m not a stranger” he replied as he snuggled me closer against him
Smiling against him I melted into his touch as we fell asleep to a romance movie. I guess being shy does work out in the end and I’ve always had it bad for Matt but after today? You’re for sure thinking
She’s got it bad!
The End
I wasn’t sure how to end this…it’s so HARD TO END A STORY WTFFFF. Anywho we’re almost at 2,600 followers🥹🥹. Yall I could cry this means so much to me I remember when I had hit 100 followers and I never thought I’d make it this far. I’m so eternally grateful for you all😩🖤🖤. I know I don’t update three times a day everyday like I used to, but I’m so glad yall are sticking around till this day when I post once to twice a week every two weeks. I don’t deserve you, thank yall so much🥹💕💕💕. Stay tuned for more work baes
-J💅🏽
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agaypanic · 8 months
Note
Adam makes a friend in the cheerleading squad and introduces her to Bree and Chase but Chase kinda keeps his distance because hes so used to everyone having a crush on Adam or Bree and pushing him aside even though reader is very open about her crush on him and she gets so frustrated that she just kisses him
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I Like Nerds (Chase Davenport X Cheerleader!Reader)
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Summary: Tired of history repeating itself, Chase doesn’t even bother trying to get to know you when Adam starts bringing you around. But when you ask him to help you out with an upcoming test, he realizes that you might not be so bad.
A/N: first fic post of the new year!!! also sorry it’s taken me so long to post something, writing’s been feeling so hard lately lol
***
You don’t know what you did wrong, to make Chase treat you this way. So cold and distant, when all you tried to be was nice. He’d been like this since the day you met, and the behavior never seemed to falter for a second.
It was really unfortunate. All you wanted from him was to like you. You were so excited when Adam invited you over to his house, because you’d finally get a proper introduction to the nerdy boy you’d been crushing on in the hallways.
“I hope they like me.” You murmured, more to yourself than to Adam, as you reached the front door of his place. When Adam invited you to hang out and meet his siblings after practice, you immediately said yes. You and Adam had gotten along the moment he joined the cheer squad, and his family seemed nice from your observations from afar. But seeing the giant house in front of you and thinking about what was on the other side of the door was starting to make you nervous.
“Don’t be silly; of course, they’ll like you!” Adam said with his usual cheerful demeanor. Without warning, he opened the door, dragging you into the house. “I like you!”
“Well, you like everyone, Adam.” You said with a laugh, the chuckle soon turning timid as you realized that Adam’s siblings were all sitting on the couch looking at the two of you. You absentmindedly smoothed out your cheer skirt, doing your best not to look at Adam’s nerdy brother too much. “Hi.” 
“Guys, this is-”
“Y/n L/n.” Adam’s other brother Leo cut him off, standing up and walking over to you with a sly smile. “Best flyer on the cheer squad and Captain Stacy Brookfield’s right-hand girl.” You giggled at the description he gave you as he shook your hand. “I’m Leo Dooley. Now… about Stacy Brookfield-”
“Okay.” Adam pushed Leo’s shoulder. “That’s enough of that.” You did your best to stifle a snort as Adam ignored Leo’s whiny protests, pointing to his sister. “This is my sister, Bree.”
“We have got to hang out; I need girl time,” Bree said in a severe tone, making you grin. “I’m surrounded by these guys every day; I’m getting so sick of it.”
“Well, I know all the best spots for good girl time.” You responded, happy that Bree had seemed to take a liking to you already. “I’ll give you my number before I leave so we can set something up.”
Bree clapped gleefully before Adam stole your attention, pointing to who was sitting on the furthest seat on the couch.
“And that’s my brother, Chase.”
He looked up at the sound of his name, eyes landing on you. You wiggled your fingers to give him a small wave.
“Hey.” You smiled, glad you were finally getting a good introduction to this cute boy. He looked you up and down for a second, took a deep breath, and then looked back at the homework he was working on.
“Hi.”
So much for a good introduction.
That was about a month ago, and not much seemed to change. It’s not like Chase was mean, just… indifferent. He was polite enough to give a short wave back to you when you passed by, but he never did anything beyond that. He didn’t feel like trying to converse with you beyond pleasantries. When you came over to the Davenport household, usually for Adam or Bree, he seemed to busy himself with homework or something else so he wouldn’t have to interact with you.
You tried to tell yourself that he was like that with everyone, so the standoffishness didn’t hurt you as much.
But now you had a chance to maybe change Chase’s attitude. Or at least find out the reason behind it. You had an upcoming test in your math class, probably your worst subject. You knew that Chase was smart, most likely the most intelligent guy in school. So, when you were in the living room waiting for Bree to get ready to go to the mall with you and saw Chase walk into the kitchen, you decided to seize your opportunity.
“Hey, Chase.” You said, a pep in your step as you walked to the kitchen and sat on one of the bar stools. He looked up at you, seeming surprised, like he hadn’t noticed you were there.
“Hey, Y/n.” His voice was timid, a bit confused.
Before he could get the chance to run off, you leaned forward on the counter.
“Chase, could you do me a favor?” You rested your head in your hands, giving him a sweet smile.
“Maybe…” He grabbed a drink from the fridge and faced you, picking at the bottle cap. “What is it?” 
“Well, I have a math test coming up, and I’m, like, the worst at remembering all the formulas and stuff. So I was wondering if you could maybe help me?” You bit your lip in anticipation, hoping he’d say yes.
Chase had a feeling you’d ask him something like this at some point. Whenever his siblings brought someone new around, more often than not, he was eventually asked to help the friend either get with his brother or sister or help them with some homework. 
He sighed, scratching the back of his neck.
“Well, I really-”
“If you need me to pay you, I totally can!” You quickly added. “I don’t wanna, like, take advantage of your brain or anything.” You said with a nervous laugh. 
“No,” Chase said without thinking. He mentally kicked himself; why would he say no to money? Although Mr. Davenport was rich, that didn’t mean Chase was. He cleared his throat. “No, you don’t have to pay me. I mean, any friend of Adam and Bree’s is a friend of mine, right?”
You grinned, happy that he was willing to help you. It stung a bit that he considered you a friend by association instead of just a friend, but you were sure that that would be fixed after a few study sessions.
“Great! Thank you so much, Chase!”
“Y/n, I’m ready.” Bree came bounding down the stairs, and although you were excited to go out with her, you were a bit disappointed that your time with Chase was being cut short.
“One second, Bee.” You said, giving her a smile before turning back to Chase. You dug around in your bag for a loose piece of paper and a pen. “Here’s my number.” You said, scribbling it down along with a smiley face before handing it to him. “Text me, and we’ll set up a date.”
Chase’s cheeks seemed to redden as he took the piece of paper from you, giving it a quick glance before smiling at you.
“Got it.”
“Y/n, come on!” Bree took hold of your arm and started to drag you out of the house. You gave Chase a quick wave and grinned when he waved back to you with slightly more enthusiasm than before.
***
A week later, the day before your test, you were about to have your third study session with Chase. You were happy to see that Chase had been warming up to you a bit. Maybe you just needed some alone time with him to get him to open up. He was starting to make small talk with you when you saw each other, greeting you first when you’d come through the door. You were honestly a bit baffled when you came over one night to watch a movie with him and his siblings, and he moved his homework out of the way instead of focusing on it so you could sit next to him.
You came to the Davenports with Adam, coming straight from cheer practice. When you got close to the house, you suddenly realized you didn’t have any comfortable clothes to change into. Sure, you had the clothes you wore to school, but you didn’t feel like going back into your jeans and top that wasn’t the best for lounging around.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, spotting the pout on your face. 
“I just realized I forgot to pack something comfy in my bag.” You groaned. “Now I either gotta stay in uniform until I get home or put my jeans back on.”
“You can borrow something from me, if you want,” Adam said. 
“Really?” You asked.
“Yeah, sure!”
You and Adam went inside and saw Chase sitting on the couch, a math textbook and some paper on the coffee table. He perked up at the sight of you.
“Hey, Chase!” You greeted, setting your backpack next to him. “I’m gonna get out of this real quick, and then we can get started.” Chase nodded, flipping the textbook open to the page you ended on from your last study session.
“Come on, Y/n. My room’s this way.” Adam’s giant hand clasped around yours, leading you down the hall, and you missed Chase snapping his head to look at the two of you walking away.
When you came back to the living room about ten minutes later, you missed the way Chase clenched his jaw at the sight of you. You were wearing Adam’s clothes, almost drowning in his oversized shirt and sweatpants, with your cheer uniform neatly folded and tucked under your arm.
“Hey.” You smiled at Chase, taking your math notebook out of your backpack and stuffing in your uniform. You settled next to Chase and grabbed a pen. “So, what are we working on?”
Chase stared at you for a second, and you started to feel a bit skittish under his gaze. He took a deep breath before looking away from you, giving a half-hearted gesture towards the open textbook.
“Just review.”
You frowned at the lackluster response from him. You wondered what had happened between ten minutes ago and now to dim Chase’s mood. But you didn’t want to poke and prod, so you simply nodded and started looking at the textbook.
A few minutes passed, and Chase was filled with thoughts that needed to be let out. 
“So, what’s up with you and Adam?” He asked, trying to appear nonchalant. You looked at him confused, before looking back at your notebook, trying to work out a problem.
“What about me and Adam?” 
“Are you guys like… together, or what?” You dropped your pen at the question, not expecting it at all. You snorted, and Chase frowned. It was bad enough that you were wearing his brother’s clothes, but laughing at him dampened his mood a bit more. Until you responded.
“God, no!” You laughed. “I mean, I like Adam, he’s really nice. But not like that.”
“Really?” Chase asked, watching you pick your pen back up.
“Not at all! I like nerds.” You didn’t mean to let that slip, but you tried not to let it show.
“Really?” Chase asked again, only this time sounding more interested.
“Yeah!” You smiled at him. “Muscles are cool and all, but I dunno. In this world, I think smarts should be considered superior.” You scribbled a few more things down before showing Chase your notebook. “Is this right?” You asked hopefully.
He only needed to take a quick glance to see whether you were correct or not, and you were. He nodded and smiled at the tiny squeal you gave out in celebration before moving on to the next review question.
***
“I’m sure you did great, Y/n,” Chase reassured you as you paced back and forth in the hall. Your eyes were glued to your phone, waiting for a notification. “You worked really hard this past week; there’s no doubt you got a good grade.”
You had taken your math test today and were now impatiently waiting for the results. Your teacher said she’d have the tests graded and put into the gradebook by the end of the school day. But it’s been fifteen minutes since the last bell of the day rang, and there’s still been no change in your grade or notification of your test results.
“No, Chase. I, like, totally blanked on half the questions. There’s no way I passed.” 
“Y/n, if you keep walking around like that, you’re gonna burn a hole through the floor.” Chase grabbed your shoulders and turned you to face him. You would’ve been flustered by the close proximity if you weren’t so worried about your academic standing. If you did about as bad as you think you did on this test, there’s no way you’d be able to cheer at the next few football games. “I’m sure you did really good.”
“But-”
“I know you did.” Chase looked like he was about to say something more when your phone buzzed. You looked down fast enough to see that it was a notification about your grade, and although you had been so impatient for it, now you didn’t want to look.
“You look at it.” You shoved the phone into Chase’s hand, clasping your own together as you waited for the blow. “Well? What did I get?”
Chase looked at your phone to see the grade and grinned up at you.
“You got an A.”
“What?”
“You got an A!”
“Oh my God!”
Any people passing by probably thought the two of you were going crazy, but you didn’t care at all. You were beyond thrilled, and Chase was so proud of you. You clapped and jumped on the balls of your feet before roping Chase into a hug, which he eagerly returned.
“Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, Chase.” You pulled back and, overwhelmed by the moment of ecstasy, pecked Chase on the lips. It was quick, but when you realized what you had done, you gasped and covered your mouth. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I-”
Chase didn’t let you continue. Instead, he pulled your hand away from your mouth and kissed you, this time longer and more focused. The hand that wasn’t still wrapped around your waist buried itself into your hair. You tried not to smile too much as you kissed him back.
Smarts were definitely superior.
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fairysongs · 2 months
Text
౨ৎ pretty scary﹕spencer reid .ᐟ
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summary: you're having an awful day and your boyfriend is kind of the best person ever.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
includes: reader struggles with bpd, reader has slight mommy issues, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, depictions of overstimulation (NOT the sexy kind), reader has slight mood swings, established relationship, silly fluff, spencer reid is the perfect boyfriend, hurt/comfort KINDA? (reader is upset, spencer soothes her), lowercase writing sorry it's a habit/my preference, Fiona Apple Mention <3
word count: 3.1k
a/n: omg.. hiiii! this is my first silly post on this silly blog and its a very self-indulgent one as someone who has bpd and is told OFTEN how irritable i can get -_- .. im so nervous.com right now bcos ive never posted my writing on here but also excited..? yes yes.. on a huge spencer reid kick so if u liked this and have any requests they are open!! likes/reblogs/any feedback much appreciated :3!
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today was just not your day.
the morning started out fine. it was actually kind of perfect. you spent the night at your boyfriend’s place, waking up just in time to see him getting ready for work. there was a smile that crept over your lips as you watched him adjust the tie hanging around his neck. you propped yourself up against the pillows as he caught your eyes in the mirror adjacent to the bed. your heart swelled at the sight of a small blush spreading across his cheeks.
“why are you staring at me like that, weirdo?” there was a little morning gravel in his voice but his tone was lighthearted enough to make you giggle. you fell back against the pillows, tucking one under your arm as you kept your gaze on him.
“what? i’m not allowed to stare at my boyfriend anymore?” you replied, a yawn falling off your lips. he playfully rolled his eyes in response, walking over to your side of his bed. he sat at the edge, one of his hands brushing some of your hair from your face.
“actually, no. they just passed that law last night while you were sleeping through coraline again.” you bit your lip, vaguely remembering begging spencer to put that movie on only to fall asleep on his shoulder twenty minutes in. you can only assume at some point he carried you from the sofa to his bed. you blushed at the thought, as if he hadn’t done it at least twenty times by now. clearly you weren’t used to the ‘princess treatment’ he liked giving you.
“oh, my fault then. please don’t arrest me, mr. fbi agent.”
“it’s dr. fbi agent, actually.”
“right…” you giggled again, beaming as he smiled down at you. “do you know if you have a case?”
“paperwork day.” his fingers started tracing small shapes against the skin of your arm. “of course if that changes, i’ll let you know. but hopefully it won’t. you can come over again tonight if you want. maybe we’ll finally finish coraline.” his voice was soft, ringing harmonies in your ear as you let your eyes flutter shut in the comfort. “need me to take you to work today?”
you hummed, reaching out to your phone sitting on his bedside table. you quickly rechecked your schedule and shook your head. “no, it’s okay. i go in a little later. it’s close enough to walk.” you tilted your head as you felt him tangle his hand in your hair again. spencer scratched delicately at your scalp.
“okay, my love. i washed the clothes you left here the other day. they should be in the second drawer of my dresser.” you nodded in response as he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead. you caught his jaw in your hands and pulled him downwards, giving him a proper kiss on his lips. he laughed quietly as you both pulled away. “have a good day, angel.”
“you too, baby.”
well to put it simply you did not have a good day. you got ready for your job at a local cafe and made it to work fine. it was when you got there that it started going downhill. you genuinely loved being a barista. you definitely had the personality for it. friendly, outgoing, kind and patient. it’s actually how you met spencer in the first place. but sometimes it was hard. especially with certain needy customers. most of your regulars were chill. you were actually friends with many of them, always asking about the new things in their lives whenever they’d come in. of course, though, there were always a few bad apples.
like this one particular older man. he came in every now and then and ordered the same thing every single time. black decaf coffee with a blueberry scone. he was always in a rather grumpy mood, not even your tender words could help that. so this morning when you gave him a black regular coffee by an honest mistake he made sure to let you know just how stupid and idiotic you were. you stood there at the counter, expression apologetic as he continued to berate you. eventually your boss told you to go in the back for a bit while she took care of things.
you practically ran to the bathroom, locking yourself in the tiny space as you tried to control your breathing. you could already feel the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. you absolutely despised how sensitive you could get. through shaky breaths, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, unlocking it with a small sob. you had a few texts and one missed call from your mother. one of the texts was from spencer, letting you know it was just gonna be a paperwork day and inquiring what you wanted to order for dinner tonight. the other texts were from your mother, reminding you about a family party that was coming up soon. there was another text after her missed call.
- Guess you’re too busy to talk. Just let me know if you can make it.
you closed your eyes, feeling the passive aggressive tone through the message. the best way you could describe your relationship with your mother was that she was both your best friend and your worst critic. she tried to support everything you aspired to do, but also hated the way you did them. it was... complicated but her text was enough to leave you in a sour mood for the remainder of the day.
you felt like you couldn’t catch up. you couldn’t get over that bump setting you back from having a good shift. your head felt like it was elsewhere and no longer attached to your body, your movements becoming monotonous and your words dull. to make things worse, your eighteen year old coworker was coming in for their shift an hour before you were leaving.
and you loved them, you really really did. often times you would joke about them being your work child, taking them under your wing. but they talked. a lot. most days you could keep up no problem but with the way your mind was on a downward spiral today, all you could feel was immense overstimulation as they yapped in your ear about the latest tv show they were binge watching. soon it was all too much for you to handle and you end up snapping at the poor kid.
“dude i’m sorry but i don’t really care. can we just be quiet for, like, five minutes?” you interrupted them mid-sentence, tired eyes looking over with a slight glare. you immediately softened, eyes wide with guilt as they looked towards you like a kicked puppy. you tried your best to stammer out an apology but was met with silent treatment until you clocked out.
they would soon accept your apology in the next coming days and you’d go back to normal because that’s how you guys were, but the guilt would eat at you for quite a bit. when you were a kid, your parents often praised you on how self-sufficient and respectful you were. in your adolescent years, with the help of an untreated personality disorder and your regular teen hormones raging inside your cage of a body, your behaviour would suddenly change. you found yourself more irritable. more prone to overstimulation. you internalized a lot of what you were going through because every time you tried to bring up your feelings, your mother would shut you down and it’d turn into a fight.
you expressed yourself through slammed doors and screaming matches. you bottled things up until they overflowed. it was how you handled the thunderstorms behind your skull. you would eventually get better in time, finally attending therapy and finding solace in little things like journaling. and when you started dating spencer, he helped a lot too. your brain could sometimes make a lot of irrational judgements and spencer would help you see reasoning instead. he was also insanely patient with you. especially in the first two months of you guys dating where you broke up with him upwards of five times. each time because you didn’t believe you deserved him. (you still don’t believe it, but at least now you’ve stopped trying to fight the good coming into your life.)
you would never forget the first time spencer met your parents. the night was going well up until dinner time when your dad decided to pull out your old high school yearbook. at first it was just classic embarrassment as spencer looked at your school photos. but then your mother, after one too many glasses of wine, brought up your old struggles with anger.
“be careful getting on her bad side, spencer!” she had said, waving a finger in the air. “she’s got a scary temper for sure! remember when we had to replace her bathroom mirror because she threw her hairbrush at it?" she spoke like she was a comedian telling her greatest joke in the world as she turned towards your father. "i can’t even remember what made her so upset! but i remember how expensive that fix was…”
“oh i’m sure i’ve dealt with far worse at my job, ma’am. i think i can handle her just fine.” he was quick to reply and the hand pressing on your bouncing knee beneath the table calmed any nerves of him looking at you differently. later that night he’d hold you as you sobbed in his arms, retelling different memories of your past. he made you a promise that he’d never see you as a bad person as long as you promised him you’d talk to him whenever you started to feel like one.
you were finally walking home after this exhausting day and it wasn’t until you were changed into your comfy clothes and curled in bed that you realized you hadn't texted spencer back at all. with your knees pulled to your chest and a low hum of a fiona apple album playing from your record player you reached across your bed for your phone. you had four texts from him and one missed call.
- Hi angel. Haven’t heard from you all day, just checking in. - Hi, you should be clocked out by now. Just wanted to know if you still wanted to come over? We can order from your favorite italian place. - One missed call from spencer ♡. - Are you having a bad day, my love? Or did I do something wrong? - I’m gonna come over. See you soon, angel.
your brows furrowed together at the last text, sent just about ten minutes ago. you could feel your eyes well with frustrated tears. you felt like shit for unintentionally ignoring him. you couldn’t even think of what to say to him, but you had to think fast because soon you heard a gentle knock at your bedroom door. with a sniffle, you stood to your feet and slowly opened it.
you met spencer’s eyes, they were desperately searching your face. trying to figure you out, trying to see what was troubling your mind. you hated it sometimes when he profiled you, but most times you were grateful he could just know when you weren’t doing okay. saved you the shame of having to actually vocalize your feelings. you stepped back as he entered your room.
“your roommate let me in. she said you went straight to your room after work and have been listening to nothing but when the pawn… by fiona apple.” he was still in his work clothes, the same ones you watched him get dressed in just that morning. felt like an eternity ago at this point. before you could even let your face fall to the ground, his hands were holding your jaw, tilting it upwards and keeping it in place. he always held you like you were made of glass. “bad day?”
“you could say that.” you words were short and you didn’t mean for them to be. you were just so exhausted. “sorry i forgot to text you back. it’s just been…” you let your words fall off, waving your hands in the air with an annoyed huff. you pulled away from his touch, slumping back into your mattress. he just watched as you ran your fingers through your hair, eyes shut tight as if you were trying to talk yourself down. he bit his lip, taking a cautious step forward.
“you look like you’re trying to compute a million things at once right now inside that little head.” he shrugged off the sweater draping over his work shirt, tugged off his tie and kicked his shoes off besides your bed. you laughed sarcastically at his words but bit your tongue from replying with a snarky comment. “did you know that one of the brain’s primary functions is to collect and process sensory information? it’s kind of like there’s a little guy in there, sitting at his desk and filing through every bit of information that gets thrown at you throughout the day.” your eyes were still shut but you felt a dip in your bed as his voice grew closer to you.
“when there’s too much sensory input, it can make the brain think there’s danger, sending off signals to the body to escape. that’s when your fight-flight-freeze response gets triggered. aka that little guy’s desk is suddenly on fire and every file has been thrown all over the place and the little guy, well, the little guy is running around screaming for help.” you feel two arms wrap around your waist and maneuver your body until you felt your head resting against the warmness of his chest. soon enough you also felt slender digits running through the locks of your hair.
“you seem to resort to a fight response i’ve noticed. your body feels like you can overpower the danger your brain thinks you’re in. resulting in intense feelings of anger. which can lead to irritability.” you feel him tracing shapes, the same ones he made on your arms earlier that morning, deep into the small of your back. he always did the same movement pattern and you always wondered if that was intentional or just a coincidence. “do you wanna talk about what’s going on in here?” he poked an index finger to the side of your temple. you shook your head. “okay. we don’t have to. but i will ask about it later, is that okay?” you nodded this time.
you didn’t realize it when it was happening, but the combination of spencer pulling you into his arms and his soft voice spewing factual information at you was enough to make your head feel almost empty. your body was melted against his, curled up in his touch. you let out a shaky breath, slowly raising your head, resting your chin on his chest as your eyes opened. “how did you do that?” you whispered, soft hues scanning his face as he just smiled down at you.
“a magician never reveals his secrets, my love.” you rolled your eyes, laughing quietly as his hand lightly brushed your cheek. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. your lips twitched in thought, a tiny frown suddenly taking over your features. spencer tilted his head. “what is it, baby?”
your eyes fell to focus on his chest, your finger tracing over the fabric of his work shirt. “do you think i’m scary? like… when i get upset?”
“scary?” he repeated, voice in small disbelief that you’d even feel the need to ask. “no, i don’t think you’re scary. i think you’re beautiful. and i think your mind can be pretty mean to you sometimes. but that’s not your fault. hey, look at me please.” you let him guide your head back up, eyes meeting each other again. he smiled at you and it made you feel warm. “why do you think you’re scary?”
your shoulder shrugged with an exasperated sigh. “because it’s what i’ve been told my whole life. when i get too overwhelmed and i just feel nothing but anger i… i feel like i can get mean and i hate feeling that way. like, i always get too snappy and i always say something that’s gonna hurt someone i care about and i…” your breathing hitches. your lashes quickly blink, trying to fight any tears from spilling yet again. “i’m so scared i’m gonna get that way with you and you’re gonna leave me.”
he was shaking his head, thumb swiping underneath your eyes at the few tears that betrayed you and fell down your cheeks. he sighed out your name. “i don’t think you understand just how much i love you. if you think i’d leave you at something so silly like that. you know, i started reading up on borderline personality disorder after that night i met your parents. i wanted to understand it more. i wanted to understand you.” he continued wiping away your tears as they kept falling.
“i can’t even imagine what you go through inside your own head every single day, but i can acknowledge how hard you’re trying to cope with it. i see it all the time. i see it in the kindness you like to spread to strangers. i see it in the way you push yourself to learn new things and the way you stopped beating yourself up if it doesn’t turn out perfect. i see it in the way you love me, and more importantly in the way you’ve allowed yourself to let me love you back. you’re such a beautiful person, my love. it’s okay to have bad days and it’s okay to let yourself be a little mean sometimes.” he laughed quietly, noticing the way your lips were fighting a smile. he leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “as long as you just communicate with me when you’re feeling bad. that’s all i ask.”
you sat there for a moment, admiring the way his big brown eyes stared at you. your eyes fell for a moment before picking back up with furrowed brows. “i snapped at my coworker today.”
“the teenager?” you nodded. “ah,” spencer’s hand resumed circling around your back as he hummed. “they’ll forgive you, i’m sure of it.” there was a pause and then a small hum coming from his throat. “are you hungry? hm? let’s order some food.”
he ordered you your favorite pasta dish from your favorite italian restaurant and you fell asleep in his arms in the middle of coraline again. he couldn’t help but admire you resting so peacefully in his arms and continued tracing the words ‘i love you’ over and over again into your back for the rest of the night.
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holdmymallowsweet · 2 months
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What are you doing here? 01
Ominis Gaunt x f!MC Word count: 4328, properly tagged on AO3
Chapter summary: Falling right between the awkwardness of their first encounter outside the Undercroft and their jaunt into the Scriptorium, Ominis and the new fifth year have an innocuous little meet up in the library. 
a/n: I’ve always wondered why Mc would offer to talk to Ominis about the Scriptorium, when their last interaction outside the Undercroft was so hostile, and I figured there could have been another conversation in between- not anything deep or meaningful, just a little chat that made it clear that they don’t hate each other. So that’s what this is, and although it’s now the first chapter/prologue of a slow-burn longfic, it was originally a oneshot and can still be read as such, if you prefer. Enjoy! And many, many thanks to @myokk for encouraging me to finally post this, you're the best ❤️
Masterlist || Chapter 02
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Chapter 01 - Invitation
Sending her that letter might have been a mistake.
Ominis Gaunt had been sitting in the library for hours now, waiting for someone who, he now realised, in all likelihood would not come.
“I heard you running around aimlessly in the defence against the dark arts tower again today. If you enjoy my company that much, perhaps you would like to join me in the library this evening. I’ll wait.”
It was supposed to be a playful way of telling her he was not angry anymore, a sort of peace offering after he had yelled at her outside the Undercroft. 
It was only after he’d sent the letter that he realised it probably sounded presumptuous and rude beyond belief. Words on parchment couldn’t tell the reader what tone of voice they’d like to be read in, at least not until someone invented a spell for that, but it was too late to take it back.
He sighed. Honestly, he could not remember what possessed him to write the blasted thing in the first place. It had been a whim, a result of his frustration and loneliness when he heard he’d be spending another evening alone because Sebastian had gotten himself detention again. He was not usually that bold, and she was practically a stranger.
They did happen to share a best friend in Sebastian though, so one could hardly blame him for trying to get to know her. In fact, it might be long overdue.
At least that was the excuse he’d use if anyone asked. Or the one he told himself, to be honest.
The truth was, she intrigued him. It took him some time to realise it, but now that he did, he couldn’t let go of the feeling. If Sebastian was to be believed, she was curious about him too, or at least she had been, for a fleeting moment- before his temper got the better of him and he took his frustrations about Sebastian’s betrayal out on her.
Ominis sighed again and ran his hand through his hair.
Someone from across the table shushed him, and his face twitched in slight annoyance.
Oh, he really hoped they’d be gone by the time she showed up, whoever they were.
If she showed up.
By now, it seemed more likely that he’d stay here sulking by his lonesome until it was time to walk back to the dungeons, perhaps facing a bemused Sebastian who’d already know where he’d been. The two of them seemed incapable of keeping secrets from one another, after all.
That would ultimately be the proper punishment for his unreasonable jealousy, her rejection delivered by his best friend.
He’d come to the library with every intention of writing the assigned essay for Herbology, determined not to care too much about whether she’d take him up on his invitation, but it was a lost cause. His self-spelling quill wouldn’t work properly unless he concentrated on the precise words he wanted to put on the parchment, but with his head filled with thoughts of the new fifth year and the undefined nature of whatever relationship they did or didn’t have, all he had managed to write so far was an embarrassing mess.
Ominis considered writing with his own hand, but thought better of it. He could, of course. He’d make notes or short letters without his enchanted quill regularly, but writing an entire essay without being able to tell when the lines would inadvertently run into one another was a daunting task. He’d have to use twice as much parchment as anyone else, and he already felt sorry for Professor Garlick, if she’d have to decipher the mess.
Finally, he decided to just give it up. The door opened, and once again, he strained his ears. He was able to recognize her footsteps by now. Not her, just some unfortunate chap getting chewed out by Madam Scribner for returning his books late.
He was starting to feel ridiculous.
It felt like hours since he’d hurried through the castle, almost slipping on the wet fallen leaves covering the stairs when he left the owlery. Heart thumping with excitement, he’d even made sure to sit at a table where he would, hopefully, be seen by her as soon as she walked in, but far enough away from the librarian to have a conversation without being reprimanded for disturbing the peace and quiet.
Actually, if he hadn’t been so concerned that she might not see him and leave, or that he might miss her coming in, he would have preferred a table in the farthest corner on the second floor, away from prying eyes. She was still the talk of the school and gathered attention wherever she went, and “What is she doing with Gaunt?” was not something he wanted to hear whispered in the corridors.
Thankfully, it was one of the last warm and sunny days before the autumn chill fully set in, so most students were happy to make the most of it and took their work outside. Even Cressida Blume still seemed determined to let Madam Scribner forget her face (not that she would), and he hadn’t heard any other classmate of theirs either. 
Sebastian’s detention was pointless busy work as usual- scrubbing or cleaning or something of the sort. Truthfully, Ominis had ceased to pay attention when his friend complained about his punishments long ago. Whatever it was, it kept him far away from the library- no one was foolish enough to try and “punish” Sebastian by letting him get his hands on even more books.
Not that it mattered whether they knew the curious onlookers or not. She was still the object of everyone’s interest and admiration, and with the way things were going, that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. Not while she was so eager and endearing, always willing to drop everything the second someone needed something from her.
Right, it wasn’t like her to deny a request from a fellow student. She’d usually jump at the chance to do someone a favour, even if it came from someone she’d never seen before, even if it was much more bothersome than studying in the library for an hour or two.
So why wasn’t she here?
She wouldn’t have shown anyone his letter, would she? Unless she didn’t have to, if the owl reached her at an inopportune time, Merlin knows who else might have read it over her shoulder.
Ominis could imagine it, them sitting in a circle in the Hufflepuff girl’s dormitory, passing his letter around, seemingly teasing her about it in a playful attempt to get her to be wary of him. Until her curiosity would get the better of her and she’d ask them why precisely they found him so disagreeable. He shuddered. 
According to Sebastian, she already knew. She knew, and didn’t care. 
According to Sebastian, she also felt apologetic and regretful about their last encounter, much like him.
And if that was the truth- he couldn’t be entirely sure it was, but if it was, why wasn’t she here? Ominis tapped his quill against the parchment, piercing tiny holes into it and probably soaking the table underneath with ink. 
He was slowly but surely getting annoyed now. If she was as regretful about invading the Undercroft as Sebastian had made it seem, she should have pounced at the chance to meet up with him and make things right.
Of course, that had been weeks ago, so she might have gotten over it by now. Still, he wasn’t good enough for her to at least show up and quietly do her homework on the opposite side of the table? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have any work to do. She always did, with all the extra assignments the Professors threw at her to help her catch up, and even if by some miracle she didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt her to simply study, for once.
She could have come. Ominis frowned. Unless she actually couldn’t.
Notorious troublemaker and rule breaker that she was, he’d often half jokingly wondered when her recklessness would come to bite her in the arse, only it wasn’t unthinkable, was it?
Her duelling skills didn’t make her invincible, it was entirely possible that she was lying dead, or dying, somewhere on the cold forest floor. Small animals and insects already crawling under her robes and the scarf she always insisted on wearing, slowly devouring her corpse while a confused owl pecked at her, trying to get her cold hands to take his stupid, embarrassing letter. 
Ominis took a deep, steadying breath in an attempt to squash the slowly rising dread.
Stop it. She was  fine, she had other things to do, or she thought she was in trouble with him again and didn’t feel like being chastised and insulted all evening. It was annoying that she didn’t even want to find out what he wanted from her- nothing, really, except perhaps a chance to clear the air- but he had no right to complain, he was the one who messed things up.
And his annoyance was merely a way to mask his fear of rejection.
He slumped down, his forehead hitting the table with a soft thud. Ears filled with the sounds of soft footsteps, turned pages and scratching quills, ink from his quill staining his fingertips but nothing to really occupy his mind in her stead.
Why couldn’t he have spent a few more minutes to rewrite that letter, although one could barely call it a letter- the note, why couldn’t he have tried to sound a bit more friendly and inviting? Then again, even a second longer might have caused him to rethink the whole thing, keeping him from sending it at all.
All things considered, that would have been a blessing in disguise, saving him from making an absolute fool of himself.
He’d heard it countless times from the Sallow twins, trying to console him in his moments of self-doubt; that he was a good person, a good friend, that he was fun to be with, but it’s not like she’d ever seen that side of him.
The two of them would make an odd, unlikely combination, but he wanted to get to know her, be near her. His invitation had been a final act of desperation- or perhaps insanity- a desire to hold on to the strange but comforting, tender feeling that rose in his chest whenever he heard her voice in class or her footsteps in the hallways nowadays.
At the very least, he wanted to make sure there was no lingering resentment between them.
The library door opened again, and the next sound to reach his ears suddenly made his head feel blissfully empty. 
It was her voice, and he instantly straightened his back and cocked his head to the side to listen better as she greeted the librarian.
She made her way through the library, with eager steps, drawing closer until he could smell her signature scent, then until he could hear her breathing. Ominis noticed she was slightly out of breath.
Had she been in a hurry?
To meet him?
In spite of the confusion, the sick feeling inside him dissolved almost instantly, all thoughts of why she made him wait only to show up hours later forgotten. She cared. She cared at least enough to give him a bit of her time.
“Hello, Ominis,” she said.
He knew she wasn’t one for formalities, calling all of her classmates by their first name without invitation. 
What surprised him more was the lack of any bitterness or trepidation he’d expected to hear in her voice, instead, she sounded cheerful, excited, almost.
“There you are. Care to sit down?” he replied, trying his best to sound unbothered while ignoring the sudden flutter of nervousness in his stomach. The scraping of the chair from across the table told him she did.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I’m really sorry.”
Are you?
She sounded genuinely apologetic. Suddenly he realised, with another bout of nerves, that this would be the first time they actually had a proper conversation. Without any shouting. She was here for no other reason than to spend time with him, and more importantly, because he asked her to.
Ominis took perhaps a bit too long to answer, but she didn’t seem to notice. It sounded like she was busy taking her textbooks out.
“It’s all right. It’s not like I was just wasting time waiting for you, I was quite busy.” It was almost not a ridiculous lie, considering he’d been busy indeed, desperately craving her company, making a mess of his homework, hoping she’d care enough to show up. He hoped she wouldn’t think too hard about the messy, half empty parchments littering the table. 
It wouldn’t be fair to be upset about it. After all, he invited her on short notice and they never agreed on a time to meet.
“I left as soon as I got your owl, but it took me a while to get here,” she sighed, casually pushing aside his mess on the table to make space for her own.
Why? Where have you been?
Obviously not on school grounds.
“Why would that be?” he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
“I was near Aranshire.”
“Aranshire? What were you up to over there?” He raised his eyebrow. He knew it was one of the Hamlets, the one close to Hogsmeade station, if he wasn’t mistaken, but he couldn’t judge exactly how far away from the castle it was.
Oh, he had a bad feeling about this, and she, ever so perceptive, noticed.
“Nothing to be concerned about.” she said airily.
She doesn’t trust me.
Ominis knew he shouldn’t hold it against her. They barely knew each other, after all, and yet he couldn’t help the tiny stab of annoyance as she was lying to him yet again. If it had been Sebastian, she would have told him. 
Then again, Sebastian had never threatened to get her in trouble with the Headmaster.
“Anyway, on my way back something came up and I looked a bit dishevelled by the end of it, and it took me a while to sort that out. That’s why I’m late. I really am sorry.”
“You looked… dishevelled?”
She hummed in agreement, taking a moment to shuffle around pieces of parchment before answering properly. “Just a bit.”
“You do know I wouldn’t be able to tell,” he said with a smirk.
She laughed, and Ominis was almost disturbed by how much he liked the sound of it.
“Fair enough, I suppose, but others would, and I wouldn‘t want to give anyone a reason to stare, or… talk more about me than they already do.”
Ominis tensed. He’d always been aware and annoyed at how much the entire school seemed to gossip about her, but he’d never considered that she’d know, or how she felt about it. There was an odd sort of undertone in her voice.
He wondered yet again how much she knew, or guessed, about the things others said behind his back, when they thought he was out of earshot, always underestimating his hearing. They were careful when Sebastian was close, but they had no reason to hold back when it was just her.
So was she concerned about what the others might say if they saw them together? For her sake, or for his? He was beginning to feel sick again.
“Why did you look ‘a bit dishevelled’ in the first place?” he asked in an attempt to return to the original subject, and perhaps lighten the mood a bit.
“Well…” she hesitated for a moment. “I had a run in with some spiders.”
Oh no.
“Really, nothing to be concerned about.” She added quickly when he furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something.
If he had to guess, this wasn’t the first time something like that had happened- in fact he knew it wasn’t. Dragons, Trolls, Dark Wizards, now this- and Merlin knew what else in between. She almost seemed to enjoy it, always roaming around, curious to see what else she could take on.
That recklessness made him uneasy. He had spent the last four years with another one like that, and the two of them being best friends felt like pouring oil in a fire.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course I am. Nothing a bath and a Wiggenweld potion couldn’t fix,” she reassured him.
So you did get hurt.
Ominis frowned. He couldn’t smell any blood, and didn’t hear any strange whispers when she came in. She also didn’t sound as if she was in any pain, so she most likely wasn’t lying when she said she was fine now. Her having just taken a bath also explained why the scent of her soap was slightly stronger than usual and not mixed with the earthy, piney smell of the forest that always clung to her when she’d been roaming around the highlands.
“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly.
The question caught Ominis by surprise. “Certainly. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem a bit tense. If there’s anything I can help you with…”
Even without sight, he could guess she was pausing to look at him expectantly. Merlin, did she think that’s why he asked her to meet him?
“No, I…” There were a lot of things he would have liked to say to her, and yet he couldn’t seem to find the right words.
He had to say something, though, because the silence between them as she waited for Ominis to finish his sentence was starting to feel oppressive.
“I’m fine,” he finally said, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how much he was stressing over what, to her, was a casual conversation she had with dozens of others on an average day.
For Merlin’s sake, they were classmates sitting in the library, making smalltalk.
Time to change the subject.
“Really though, what were you doing out there?” He tried his luck again.
“Just the usual.”
Ominis barely managed to suppress a frustrated sigh. “Which would be…?”
She seemed to consider him for a moment. The building frustration from her annoyingly vague answers must have been evident, and Ominis thought for a split second that he’d pushed too far.
“Nothing too exciting. Chatting to some of the locals. Looking for good spots to collect potion ingredients, that sort of thing.”
“Sharp must be very proud of you.”
She laughed that melodic, infuriatingly infectious laugh of hers, and Ominis was both relieved and grateful that the atmosphere lightened considerably again, even as the annoying git who shushed him earlier made a disapproving noise. If she’d heard it, she’d decided to ignore it, and Ominis was more than happy to follow her lead.
“I’m not doing it to please Professor Sharp, I quite enjoy potion making- unlike some of us,” she teased.
“I don’t-“
“Don’t bother denying it, it’s not like I’m imagining the sour look on your face every time I look at you during Potions.”
So she hadn’t been ignoring him, even after everything that had happened. His insides squirmed pleasantly. Perhaps she was still curious about him, after all.
Ominis cleared his throat.
“So, had any success in finding those potion ingredients?” he asked, awkwardly attempting to keep the conversation going.
“Hmm. I’m running out of Horklump juice, but there weren’t any around. I did find some Ashwinder eggs though, at an abandoned poacher camp nearby,” she rambled on absentmindedly, still shuffling around her pieces of parchment. “I’ve always been curious about them, you know. I’d like to see one someday.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. They’re dangerous criminals, you know.”
She held back a laugh. “I meant an Ashwinder- as in the creature, not the poachers. I’ve seen quite enough of them.” 
“...it was a joke.”
She giggled. “I’ve been thinking about how I always collect their eggs as potion ingredients, but I’ve never actually seen one,” she mused.
Well, they weren’t exactly the sociable sort, even for snakes.
Ominis had met an Ashwinder once, in the gardens behind his family home, after it had slithered out of an abandoned fire his older brother had been playing around with before he’d wandered off, bored. Excited to have someone to talk to, someone who he’d hoped wouldn’t either dismiss him or use the opportunity for some casual cruelty, Ominis had bent down to greet the little snake. It had told him to sod off and slithered away to lay its eggs. Back then, he’d been sulking the whole day over it.
The corners of his lips twitched upwards.
Shame, he thought ruefully. There he actually had a somewhat funny story about the very thing she was interested in, and he couldn’t even tell her. Not without revealing secrets about himself that he’d rather keep tightly guarded.
“Have you ever heard one?” She inquired.
Ominis stiffened instantly. So much for his tightly guarded secrets. He really would have to wring Sebastian’s neck one of these days. “What do you mean by that?”
“I only meant, well…,” she answered sheepishly, “… you obviously wouldn’t have seen one, and I know you have good hearing. Sorry, did I say something wrong?” She was obviously taken aback.
“No, of course not. I’m sorry.” He relaxed. So Sebastian hadn’t told her that, at least. He cleared his throat. “You would have to be lucky to see one. They are born from unattended magical fires and only live for about an hour, barely long enough to lay their eggs.”
“Ah.” She was fumbling with her quill, running her fingers along the feathered edges, from the sound of it, seemingly deep in thought, and thankfully not angry at him for snapping at her. “If they’re born from fires, what are they laying eggs for?”
“I think that’s a question better asked of Professor Howin,” Ominis replied. “You’re the one taking Beasts class, not me.”
“So… could I just make a fire somewhere, ‘unattend’ it and wait for one to come out?”
He gave her an amused snort, not sure if she was being serious. “Are you taking a page out of Peeve’s book, trying to burn down the castle?” Brows furrowed, he still flashed her a warm smile as she had a fit of giggles, and a pleasant warmth spread through his body.
“Perhaps I should take a page out of Peeve’s book, that’d make us even,” she said.
Ominis was waiting for her to explain that rather puzzling statement, but she didn’t.
“Meaning…?”
“Never mind.”
He brushed it off. This was all he’d wanted, sitting together, having a pleasant conversation, laughing about each other’s jokes. And yet it didn’t feel quite right, there was still a wall between them, made up of secrecy and lies.
She finally seemed to have started on her work, the scratching of her quill adding to the symphony of the rustling paper and soft hums and whispers surrounding them.
Apologise for yelling at her about the Undercroft.
Ominis wanted to, he really did, and if he was ever going to, now was the time- but he was still embarrassed just thinking about it and he didn’t want to ruin their first decent conversation by reminding her of how horrible he’d been. It might have been easier to talk about if she was the one to bring it up, and he quietly wondered why she didn’t.
Through the ambient sounds, he heard Madam Scribner get up from behind her desk, about to make a final pass through her sacred halls. Reminding students not to leave a mess, picking unwilling volunteers to tidy the mess of the ones who didn’t listen amongst the stragglers who couldn’t flee fast enough, he was almost tempted to make sure it’d be the two of them.
It wouldn’t be fair, though.
Based on her account of how she’d spent her evening so far and his own idle contemplations, they’d both need to dedicate the remaining hours of the day to schoolwork, and she’d already dropped her previous plans as soon as she received his owl- a courtesy far beyond anything he deserved.
They were out of time.
“We should probably leave.”
There she was, slipping through his fingers again. If only she’d arrived half an hour earlier, maybe he could have gathered his nerve and apologised, at least.
“Wait, weren’t we going to do our homework? I haven’t even started, to be honest.”
Ominis smirked. “The library is about to close, you know. I’ve been here for hours before you came in.” Not that he’d been very productive in that time.
“Oh.” She sounded defeated- and perhaps even a bit disappointed?
That might have been wishful thinking on his part.
“I guess I’ll head back to the common room then. If I’m lucky, Adelaide’s still up and I can copy from her.”
He let out a small chuckle. “Cheating on our assignments, are we?”
“Oh, well. I can’t always be a saint,” she said cheekily.
For a second, Ominis had the urge to walk her back to her common room, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her. It felt like it would be too much, walking around the castle with her, giving others the opportunity to make assumptions about a relationship that he himself didn’t yet fully understand. 
“Well, don’t let me keep you,” he said instead. He gathered his things, ignoring the growing regret and guilt.
“See you, Ominis. And… if you enjoyed my company enough, perhaps we could do this again?”
He felt his cheeks grow hot. “Sure.”
She laughed. “Cheers.”
And just like that, she was gone.
Her scent and her laughter still lingered and he was left wondering what, if anything, this little get together had accomplished.
Ominis could not have known this would be their last proper conversation before the three of them entered the Scriptorium.
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more a/n: Before the Scriptorium though, the next chapter will be a little trip down memory lane, featuring the earful Sebastian got for showing her the Undercroft. It’s finally here! I started working on this a while ago, so if you’ve read this far, thank you! Like I kind of hinted at in the beginning, the concept of this fic is basically “what could they have been up to ‘off-screen’, if canon events stay exactly the same” (up to and including the fact that no one ever mentions mc’s name, we’ll see if I live to regret this decision), and I don’t know if that’s interesting to anyone but myself, but I’d be happy if anyone wants to be along for the ride.  Writing from Ominis’ pov is a challenge and I try my best to keep in mind that he’s blind when describing things (so don’t expect visual descriptions of anything, ever), but hopefully without constantly drawing attention to it, I hope I managed to do that respectfully and realistically. That said, if anything feels off to you or you have questions, feel free to let me know. And finally, English is not my first language. I proofread and edit everything I write to hell and back but if I still misspelt anything or obviously misused a word, let me know so I can fix it (just be nice about it). There’s a lot more I wanted to put in the authors’ notes but I think it’s already rambly enough, so I’ll leave it at that. Until next time? (I’ve written a few chapters ahead and I’ll try to upload regularly, but realistically, I probably won’t manage it more frequently than once every 1.5 to 2 weeks)
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yourheart-inmyhands · 4 months
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hellllllllloooo your writing is great. Might I request the scared reader that you did but with Scara?
ah this was such an interesting request! i went a little more along the route of Wanderer instead of Scara but if you'd like Scaramouche, when he was in his fatui phase, i can always write that as well :D
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Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against ones will, implied kidnapping, implied forced Stockholm syndrome, restrictions around food and meals, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
If this was pre-erasure then Scaramouche would understand, he’s got a reputation, he’s known for things, regardless of how much he’s come to regret them. If this were post-erasure though, it would be a whole different story. He understands that while he has lost the intimidating, scary reputation he once had, he’s in turn taken on a mysterious, unknown one. 
He doesn’t like that you’re scared of him, especially when there’s nothing to be afraid of. Wanderer finds himself angry and confused, he doesn’t know how to make you stop being afraid of him, he can only remember how to be feared, desperate to avoid getting hurt again. And it’s not like he can just go around asking how to make you get over your silly fears. He spends a lot of time pacing around the room he keeps you in, muttering to himself and making exaggerated hand gestures. It takes him a while to come up with a plan, one that he really thinks will work, but when he does finally have his plan together, it’s impossible to change his mind on it.
It’s not his greatest plan, hell it wasn’t even a good plan, but it was the only thing he could see actually working. It’s slow at first, barely noticeable when he starts cutting back on your meals, serving slightly smaller and smaller sections each time until it becomes too obvious to ignore. He restricts you to the single room even more so than before. No more free range of the home, no more looking out the windows or even going to the nice bathroom, now if you have to go, you use the bucket. Wanderer plans to slowly break you down until you cave, begging and crying and pleading, saying you’ll do anything for some more food, for a proper bathroom, for some sunlight. 
He stands in the corner, watching as you stare at the plated meal in front of you. It could hardly be considered a proper meal, barely enough to feed a young child, it would certainly not be enough to satiate you, and he knows that. Wanderer gives you just enough to keep you from falling ill, but so little that your stomach crawls in hunger, hands clutching at your sides as you lay awake, praying for it to settle just long enough to get some sleep. He may not be a human, but he certainly understands how they work, he knows what they crave most and what depriving them of basic needs will do. 
“I could get you more if you’d like.” He sees the way you stare at him, like he’d grown three more heads, and it makes a small part of his chest tingle in excitement. Wanderer can see you hesitate, wanting more but knowing the price it comes at, the tears that well in your eyes as your head hangs low, a small nod leaving you.
He’s practically vibrating in excitement when you finally give in, letting him hold you close without fighting in exchange for more food. From there it continues to escalate, no longer does he wait for you to give in, instead he slowly starts returning things to normal and being as close and affectionate with you as he desires. If you should go back to fighting and screaming again then you can expect him to remove all your ‘privileges’ again. Wanderer will repeat the process over and over again until you give in for a final time, even if it breaks you.
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dixons-sunshine · 4 months
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Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons Part 4 | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Word count: 625.
A/n: Okay, so here's some more of my own personal headcannons for this au because I have nothing else to post lol. However, these focus more on the canon timeline, because I want to write more for this au in the show's events. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy!
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★ When the quarry camp got overrun with walkers, Daryl couldn't find you at first.
★ His whole world shattered for a moment when he called for you but you didn't answer him. He thought that the walkers had gotten you, and he was ready to kill anyone and anything in his path.
★ However, you finally called out to him. When you did, he ran to you and practically crushed your body to him.
★ He had just lost his brother. He couldn't handle losing you, too.
★ He held you that entire night. He wouldn't let you go.
★ When everyone got to the CDC, Daryl was relieved. Not only were you safe, but there was a doctor that could help deliver the baby.
★ He spent the night (while very slightly intoxicated) cuddled up on your stomach. Before he fell asleep, he whispered sweet nothings to your baby, his baby, as well as saying an endless amount of “I love you's” to you.
★ Yeah, that dream of his got ruined quickly. You think he was pissed at Jenner in the show? Multiply that by a hundred when his wife and unborn child are in danger. The only reason Jenner didn't get a beating was because you were clinging to him and trying to calm him down.
★ When those doors opened, he practically dragged you out of there. The others were still stumbling around, but the two of you were running for those doors upstairs the minute Jenner opened the doors.
★ When the horde on the highway passed and everyone was looking for Sophia, you were right by his side. He wanted you to stay by the RV but with T-Dog injured and him not fully trusting only Dale to keep you safe, he brought you along.
★ Not without a gun, though. He trusted your shooting skills. The two of you had taken up shooting practice with guns for hunting back in the day, so he felt comfortable enough with letting you carry a gun.
★ It did take a lot of threatening convincing for Shane to give in, but Daryl wouldn't let up.
★ When the farm finally came along, your escapades were put on a temporary halt.
★ Not because he didn't trust you to help look for Sophia, but because with the safety the farm provided and with a doctor available, it was time to properly start thinking of the baby.
★ Hershel gave the two of you a few baby books to read, and Daryl stayed up late into the night while you slept, reading and preparing himself for everything.
★ He did get excited when he learnt that having sex didn't hurt the baby, but he would never force you into that. It was just nice knowing that if you wanted to, he could give you what you wanted without having to worry about hurting the baby.
★ You did want it, more easily aroused than ever before because of your hormones, but there was a time and place for that—Hershel's farm while sleeping in a tent near everyone wasn't the time nor place for that.
★ Daryl really wanted the farm to work out. Unlike in the show, he'd be on Rick's side with wanting to stay. It was the safest option for you and your unborn baby, and he'd be damned if someone (Shane) ruined everything.
★ When Daryl got shot, he may or may not have been proud of you when news of you punching Andrea circled back to him.
★ He did get a proper scolding from you for scaring you like that, though.
★ He wasn't mad because he understood, and when he saw your tears, he brought you into his arms, despite the pain in his body.
★ You were the only one who was able to reach out to him when everyone found out that Sophia was dead.
★ Seeing walker Sophia instilled a new yet old fear in him—what if he failed your baby? What if your baby died because he couldn't protect them? What if you died because he couldn't protect you?
★ It took a lot of comforting to calm him down. You knew that you wouldn't be able to erase his fear, but you could be there for him and reassure him to the best of your abilities.
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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wzrd-wheezes · 8 months
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Forget Me Not - Remus Lupin x Reader
AN - this amazing idea was thought of by the lovely @thepunisherfrankcastle who posted this the other day. I couldn't not write it. Thank you for letting me write your beautiful idea.
Warnings: contains mentions of blood and an accident (nothing graphic literally a sentence) memory loss but other than that some angst and a bit off fluff.
3.8k words
It absolutely ruined him when the accident happened. The way her body fell limp in the rubble, blood smeared across her face. For a split second, everyone thought she was dead, unable to bring her back round. Remus knelt by her, brushing the dust off of her face, trying to mop up the blood with the hem of his t-shirt. 
She was in the hospital for weeks, barely allowed to have visitors. The closest Remus got to her was through the cloudy glass that looked into her room from the corridor. He spent hours with his forehead resting against the glass, trying to get a glimpse of her to see if she was okay. The doctors seemed to keep pulling the curtains around her for privacy, promising to update him if anything happened.  
He spent days waiting outside of her room, his back stiff from sitting on the hard plastic chairs, staring at the worn linoleum floor. The bright, fluorescent lights gave him a headache. He couldn’t even bring himself to read the book that he had tucked away in the back pocket of his jeans, his mind was a mess of thoughts and he found it hard to focus. Every few hours, the lady with the tea trolley would come rattling down the corridor and she would give him a sympathetic smile as she handed him his drink.  
James and Sirius came to visit, they sat with him for hours, trying to convince to go home.  
“C’mon, mate. You need to get some proper food down you at least.” James reasoned, looking at the crumpled paper coffee cups and the empty cigarette packets that were laying at Remus’s feet.  
“What if she wakes up and I’m not here?” he answered, staring into the grey-ish cup of tea he was drinking. 
“Then they’ll call you and you can come straight back.” Sirius rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, “You’ll feel better after a decent sleep. Can’t imagine you’ve had much here.” 
Remus finally looked up, weak smile forming on his lips. He nodded – Sirius was right. He had barely slept since he’d been here. The uncomfortable surroundings and constant buzzing and beeping from the machines made it near impossible. He was exhausted. There were dark smudges under his eyes that were getting worse every day, a shadow of stubble across his jaw and his hair was a mess from him anxiously running his hands through it. 
When he stood up, it felt like every bone in his body cracked, clicking back into place. Since he got here, he had barely moved, only getting up to go to the bathroom or to get a cheap coffee from the machine. He groaned, rubbing his hip to ease the pain.  James and Sirius led him back to the car, Sirius’s hand planted firmly on his back, guiding him.  
Remus could barely get his key in the door, his hands were shaking so badly, a combination of anxiety and the lack of food and sleep. His friends had offered to come in with him, to sit with him for a while. James had even offered to go and collect some of his mum’s cooking for him to eat. Remus politely declined, not feeling up to the company. Reluctantly, his friends retreated leaving Remus alone.  
He wandered around the flat for a while, rummaging in the cupboards for something to eat, slotted two slices of bread in the toaster and flicked the kettle on. Y/N would go mad when she found out he wasn’t looking after himself properly.  
The living room felt eerily empty without his girlfriend. The ticking of the clock was driving him insane, and he switched the radio on, trying to drown it out. Eating felt near enough impossible, his mouth was dry and the bread felt like he was chewing on cardboard. His fingers reached out for his mug, taking a swig of his tea trying to dislodge it from his throat. He rubbed his hand over his face. God, he was tired. The thought of sleeping in their bed alone was unbearable, the two of them hadn’t spent a night alone since they moved in together.  
He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he must have because he woke up abruptly to the sound of the landline ringing. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt disorientated. It was nighttime now, the living room was bathed in gloomy moonlight and he nearly tripped over as he rushed to the phone.  
“Hello?” His voice came out strained.  
“Hello. Can I speak to a Mr Lupin, please?” the voice asked.  
“Speaking.”  
“Ah, hello Mr Lupin. We’re just calling to let you know that Y/N has woken up. She’s still a little groggy but if you wanted to come over in the morning to see her then you can.”  
Remus felt like he could cry. It took all of his restraint to not just drive straight to the hospital now, but he knew he needed to let her rest if she had just come round. Instead, he went for a shower, finding the hot water soothing against his tired body. He ran his hands through his hair, lathering up the shampoo. For the first time since the accident, he felt like he could breathe properly again.  
The bathroom was filled with steam by the time he got out. He could barely see his reflection in the mirror as the condensation dripped down it. He winced as he saw his himself, his fingers tracing the bags under his eyes. He rummaged in the cabinet for his razor, deciding to clean himself up a little before the morning.  
That night, he decided to sleep on the sofa again, he told himself that it was just in case the hospital rang again, so he could hear the phone. Deep down, he knew that it was because he didn’t want to sleep in their bed without Y/N.  
A decent nights sleep was much needed, Remus only awoke when the morning sunlight streamed into the living room. He looked around groggily, his eyes squinting in the bright light. He wasn’t used to waking up in his own flat, the last few times that he dozed off, when he woke up it was to the fluorescent hospital lights and the doctors walking down the corridor, doing their morning rounds. 
He got dressed quickly, and gave himself a once over in the mirror before he left, running a hand through his hair, trying to tame the unruly curls.  
When he arrived at the hospital, there was a crowd of doctors and nurses that were outside of Y/N’s room. He waited anxiously for them to stop talking, nibbling on the skin of his bottom lip. 
“Mr Lupin?” one of the doctors turned around, “We’re glad you’re here-” 
“Can I go in? I need to see her.”  
“Of course. She’s having a few issues with her memory at the moment. She can’t seem to remember much from the accident but seeing a familiar face might help jog her memory.” The doctor informed him.  
Y/N looked better than he thought she would when he entered. She was propped up against some pillows, her face was patched up a bit and she had multiple wires and drips attached to her that were connected to different machines. She cocked her head when Remus walked in.  
“God, I’m so happy to see you. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Remus rushed over to her, planting a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She stayed silent for a moment, her brows knitting together.  
“I’m really sorry. Do I know you?” she pulled away from him. 
Remus stood stunned for a few seconds, at a complete loss for words. He felt like time had stood still. He hadn’t noticed that the doctor was stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand. Remus spun around when he spoke.  
“That’s normal,” the doctor began, “There tends to be memory loss in the days after someone wakes up from an accident so severe. Sometimes it takes a while for them to remember everything.” 
“What do you mean ‘a while’.” Remus stressed, “I thought you said that she couldn’t remember the accident? Not that she couldn’t remember me!”  
“She has an incredibly severe concussion. The extent of her damage is worse than we originally thought. She’s suffered a significant amount of brain trauma, which has most likely caused her to lose her memory. We’re hoping that it won’t be permanent, and her brain heals itself. But it could take days, weeks or even months.” The doctor explained carefully. 
Every trace of colour drained from his face and he felt his stomach sink. His breath caught in his throat, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The doctor left the room, saying something about giving Remus time to process – he wasn’t really listening.  
Remus moved to sit by her bed, reaching to take Y/N’s hand in his but withdrawing his fingers almost immediately. Y/N just sat silently, staring at Remus he could near enough see the cogs in her brain turning, trying to work out who he was. 
“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeated, “I feel like I’m supposed to know who you are but I just can’t remember.” She bit down on her lip. 
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Remus said, trying to remain calm. He was trying to look and sound reassuring, but tears were stinging at his eyes and he was doing his best to hold them back. 
“Something keeps coming to my mind when I look at you. It’s right on the tip of my tongue,” she looked at him earnestly, “You know when you can’t remember something but you know that you know it?” 
“I’m Remus,” he nodded, “I’m your boyfriend.” 
“My... boyfriend?” her eyes widened and she reached a hand up to her mouth, “How long? Have we been together a while?” 
“Since we were at school.” Remus confirmed, smiling sadly.  
Y/N was speechless. It was as if she was going from one emotional state to another. She looked completely lost, struggling to get her head around the idea. She looked at Remus, observing him with a newfound curiosity. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes and she swallowed hard, looking away for a moment. 
“I- I don’t remember anything.” tears were falling now, she was growing increasingly more distressed.  
“I think you should go now, Mr Lupin.” the doctor had appeared at the door again, “We need to let her rest. You can visit again tomorrow.” 
Remus stiffened as he spoke, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t agree, he didn’t want to leave her on her own. He didn’t trust himself to speak, as if the words would open the floodgates and he would lose it completely. So instead, he just reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment before he left. 
When he got home, Remus wandered aimlessly through the flat, his eyes dull and his expression sombre. He made himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the kitchen table. Sirius and James had left him messages on the answering machine, but he couldn’t muster up the effort to call them back.  
Remus just sat there, thinking over his past. Over everything they had been through together. He had known Y/N for as long as he could remember. They had met on their first day of school, forming a group with James and Sirius and had been inseparable ever since. It was when they reached their teens that Remus started seeing her in a different light. He started noticing how she would lean into him to whisper things when they were doing late night study sessions in the library. How her nose would crinkle up when she laughed, how the sun caught in her eyes when they would spend lazy afternoons by the lake.  
He had never had much in terms of affection, his childhood was pretty ropey, and he spent as much time as he could at school. Even when he grew up, girls never seemed to go with him. It was hard, when you were friends with people like James and Sirius, people who flirting and talking to people came so naturally to.  
He had never thought that someone would love him like that. The way that Y/N did. When he finally opened up to her about his feelings and she reciprocated, he felt like the happiest man in the world.  
He remembered all the times he had stayed up late studying, even though his body ached and his mind was growing less coherent by the house. He remembered the times when she would sneak off to go and make them both coffee, kissing his cheek before she left. He remembered being so damn tired the next morning but getting to spend time with her was so worth it.  
When they eventually got their flat together, he was always so excited to spend his days off with her. It was as if he never had to worry about what he would do when she was around. He could just relax. He would do little things, like leave notes in her books and whisper sweet nothings in her ear as they snuggled up on the sofa.  
The years of feeling underserving of being loved seemed so trivial now- so stupid. Y/N loved him. She loved him completely and irrevocably. Yet now, she had no idea who he was. 
His head felt heavy and sore from all the thinking, from not letting himself feel for so long. He slumped forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the table, his face buried in his hands. He hated that the accident had happened. That he had to look at her and be a stranger to her. It was like there was a knife in his gut, the blade twisting every time that Y/N said she didn’t remember him. What if she never remembered him? What if this was his one shot at love and it had been ruined? For years, Remus had had a horrible thought in the back of his mind that their relationship was purely circumstantial, that if they had met in any other scenario that she wouldn’t have fallen for him. Now, it seemed like his worst nightmare had come true.  
When he went back to the hospital the next day, he spent the walk to Y/N’s room trying to convince himself that this all was just some crazy dream, that he would walk into her room and that she would recognise him. He was devastated when she didn’t. 
“Are those for me?” she asked when he walked in, nodding towards the bunch of flowers that he was holding. 
“Yeah.” he smiled, feeling somewhat shy, “They’re your favourites.” 
“Well, I’m glad you remembered.” she joked. 
She laughed and he couldn’t help but feel his heart leap just a little. He didn’t even think that this was all new to her, that her personality might have changed. She still had her wicked sense of humour. He chuckled, but the sound felt hollow in his chest. A part of him couldn’t be completely happy, not while she still didn’t know who he was. It was bittersweet to hear her joke, it was as if nothing in the world mattered apart from the fact that she was here right now. 
“The doctor was saying I should go home soon.” she broke the silence after a few moments, “He said something about how being in familiar surroundings might help jog my memory.” 
“I think that’s a good idea.” he smiled softly, “Do you want to come home?” 
“I think so...” her voice trailed off, “I’m just worried. I mean, you say that you're my boyfriend and I believe you but I just still don’t remember anything.”  
“We can take things slowly.” he replied, “We can get to know each other again. You can get to know me...” 
It pained him to say it. His heart raced as he realised what he had just suggested. They would be starting over. He had a horrible worry in the back of his mind. What if he couldn’t make her fall for him again? 
A few days later, Remus drove her home from the hospital. They didn’t feel as uncomfortable around each other now; Remus had been at the hospital pretty much constantly for the past few days. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as the car pulled up outside of their flat, searching her face for a hint that she remembered where she was. 
He felt his heart plummet when her eyes didn’t flicker. She didn’t seem to recognise anything as they walked into the flat. She looked as if she were a stranger in this place that she called home just a few weeks ago. He led her to the sofa, sitting down next to her. Every few seconds, his eyes would wander back to her face, wanting her to notice him, to remember him. It was like he was playing tug of war in his head, part of him wanted to break down and cry, the other was telling him to stay calm. He knew he had to stay strong for her. 
“If you feel like you need space, let me know.” Remus offered, “I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable, that’s what I care about most.” 
“Thank you,” she smiled, looking down at her hands as she wrung them together in her lap. Her hands were always a sign of her stress and anxiety – he had known that since school. 
“I put together a box a stuff. Just bits and bobs from the last few years. Y’know postcards, letters, photographs, that kind of stuff. I can go and get them if you like?” 
Y/N spent hours curled up on the sofa, sifting through the box that Remus brought her. She pored over the photographs, tracing their faces with the tip of her finger. He felt his heart throb when he saw the spark of happiness light up her eyes. It seemed like she was enjoying looking through the photographs, seeing all the good times they had in the past. He watched her, her smile was infectious, momentarily making him forget about everything that had happened. 
“You wrote me all these letters?” she asked, wafting one in his direction. 
“Yeah. I started doing it when we were at school, y’know over the summer holidays and then I started leaving them around in places for you to find. I’ve done it for years.” 
“You really loved me, huh?” she mused. 
“Love.” Remus corrected her, “I really love you.” 
“Even now?” she cocked her head to look at him, “Even though I can’t remember anything?” 
“Of course. I always will.” he met her gaze, his eyes softening, “It’s such a shame that you can’t remember everything but you get to rediscover who you are and who you were. I’m just happy that I get to be there alongside you for that.” 
“But won’t it just feel like dating a stranger? Starting afresh?” her voice grew quieter and she looked down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails.  
“I get the pleasure of getting to know you all over again.”  
Over the next few weeks that they spent back at their flat together, Y/N’s attitude towards Remus shifted. She had started to become more comfortable around him, like she wasn’t seeing him as a stranger anymore. They would spend hours curled up on the sofa together while she asked Remus to tell her stories about their time at school. She would laugh at his jokes, playfully hitting him on the arm as she did so – something that she used to do when they were younger.  
For the first time since the accident, she started flirting with him. It was nice to see her back to the playful, flirty girl that she used to be. She would often tease Remus about their past and then take great delight when his cheeks went pink. Her touches started to linger and she had even started leaning against him when they sat together, her body brushing against his.  
He was starting to be more affectionate with her too, though he was hesitant to initiate it as he didn’t want to move things along too fast and spook her. A sudden rush of excitement would wash over him whenever she showed any signs of falling into their old patterns. He couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off of his face. 
One evening, while they were cooking together in the kitchen, something that they always used to do, he caught her staring at him. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in every detail like she was trying to commit it to memory.  
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Remus teased.  
“Oh, shut up.” she laughed, turning away from him to stir the pot on the stove. Remus just chuckled, shaking his head and looking back to the dishes that he was drying. They stayed in comfortable silent for a while, occasionally Y/N would sing along to songs on the radio if she remembered them, though she would often get the words muddled up. 
“Hey, Moony, can you just pass me the saltshaker?” she asked, her eyes still focused on the bubbling pan.  
“What did you just call me?” The plate that he was holding nearly slipped from his fingers and he turned around so fast that his neck could have snapped. 
“M-Moony.” she repeated, though this time the word felt unfamiliar in her mouth. It had come so casually before, dripping off her tongue like honey. 
“You haven’t called me that for ages.” he said, his voice thick with disbelief, “I didn’t think you’d remember. How did you even...” his voice trailed off. 
“I don’t know.” she moved to look at him, her eyes wide, “It just slipped out. It suits you though. Moony.” 
Remus could have fallen to his knees. This was the first time that she has remembered something. Something about him. The way she said it so easily, as if nothing had happened at all. It was the first sign of hope in weeks that her memory might start to come back. Even if it didn’t Remus was enjoying getting to know her all over again.  
While Remus lay on the sofa that evening trying to get some sleep, he had taken to sleeping on the sofa until she was more comfortable around him, he couldn’t believe that she was starting to fall for him again. The ever-present voice in the back of his mind had started to quieten. He had been so worried that his one shot at love had slipped from his grasp and it was killing him that there was nothing that he could to do make her remember what once was. He couldn’t believe his luck. The girl of his dreams had starting to like him, again. The first time wasn’t just a fluke like he always thought it had been. She liked him and she chose him again. 
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