#I guess I’m nostalgic already damn

[kindlyrot]

I drew them from memory at 4AM. I could hear the birds chirping.

[hoshifighting]

hii can you plsss do college fling!joshua too (with smut if you like!) thank you <3

warnings: smut, dorm-kitchen counter sex, clit stimulation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, teasing.

college fling!joshua’s definitely not the type to be found at some wild frat party, shirt half-buttoned, shouting about shots. he’s more… chill. like, you can see him with a small group of people, maybe talking about some obscure trivia fact or just hanging back with his guitar, strumming casually. and you notice him in those quiet corners, head down, minding his business, but when people need help, he’s there, no hesitation. just this soft smile, eyes that look like they’ve got their own glow. no front, no ego.

it’s karaoke night when you really notice him, though. one of those lowkey, “organized by the student council” kinda nights, where everyone’s already a little awkward, shifting in their seats, waiting for someone to break the ice. and there’s joshua, sitting off to the side, fingers tapping lightly against his leg to the beat of some old song. you’re not even surprised when the karaoke machine starts acting up, some tech issue, because of course, it would. you glance over at joshua, who's already looking around for someone to fix the damn thing. you try messing with the settings on the machine yourself, but the screen flashes error messages, and honestly, you just wanna punch the damn thing. you groan under your breath, “seriously? i’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

“need a hand?” joshua’s voice pulls you out of your frustration, and you turn to see him standing there, that soft smile of his doing most of the talking. like he’s amused at your mini-meltdown but too nice to say it.

“yeah, this thing’s giving me hell.” you lean back, giving up for a second, hands raised like you’re surrendering to the machine. “you know anything about fixing this?”

“nah, but i can try,” he says, stepping in a little closer. and you can smell him—fresh, like he doesn’t even have to try. just naturally… clean, if that’s a thing. his fingers brush the buttons, the machine beeping a little, but still refusing to cooperate. he chuckles under his breath. “guess it’s not in the mood.”

you smirk, feeling the tension ease a little with him around. “yeah, technology’s a bitch sometimes.”

“always.” he laughs, this soft, almost shy sound, but then his gaze lands on the guitar sitting by the stage. “y’know… if this thing’s not working, we could just do it old-school.”

you raise a brow, curious. “old-school? like… live music?”

he nods, picking up the guitar like it’s second nature to him. “yeah, i mean… it’s karaoke night, right? we’ll make our own music.” there’s something about the way he says it, all easy and laid-back, that makes you wanna go along with it. he’s not pushy, but you feel pulled in by his vibe. the room’s already a bit more relaxed, people chatting amongst themselves, so you shrug and sit back on one of the chairs in front of the stage. “alright, hit me with your best shot.”

he laughs, adjusting the guitar strap, and then strums a few chords, testing the waters. it’s a familiar tune, something simple and nostalgic, and he hums along softly, almost like he’s figuring out the right words to sing. and when he finally starts, his voice is buttery smooth, like it was made to just slip into your ears and settle in. it’s not showy, not overly polished, just nice. like something you didn’t know you needed until you heard it. you can’t help but watch him, a little too closely maybe, as his fingers move over the strings, his body swaying a little with the rhythm. his eyes flick up to yours, and for a split second, it’s like the room disappears. there’s just you and him, and this stupid little connection through music. cheesy as hell just like the barbie's movie says, but it’s there.

“you wanna sing along?” he asks, like he’s already expecting you to say no, but he’s hopeful anyway.

you bite your lip, half-laughing. “if i do, i’ll ruin the vibe.”

he tilts his head, amused. “nah, you won’t. c’mon, what’s your go-to song?”

you hesitate, feeling a little exposed, but then screw it. if joshua can stand up there and casually play a whole damn song in front of people, you can at least join him. you mutter the name of some old song, and before you know it, he’s playing the first chords. you start singing, a little unsure at first, but his guitar backs you up, makes you feel more confident.

and it’s weird, ‘cause it’s so not what you expected to be doing tonight—singing a duet with joshua hong of all people. but here you are, the two of you vibing, making the room your own little bubble for a while.

after a while, you stop caring if anyone else is even paying attention. it’s just fun, and you’re actually enjoying yourself, which… yeah, is rare for these kinds of school-organized things.

“see? not so bad, right?” he says, a little breathless, guitar still in his hands.

“yeah, i guess that wasn’t too bad,” you admit, feeling your face heat up a little.

and just like that, you’re kinda hooked. you don’t even know why, but there’s something about how easy it is with him. he’s not forcing anything, just letting shit happen, and it’s fun. more fun than you’ve had in a while, honestly. “thanks for, uh… saving karaoke night,” you say, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.

he shrugs, smile never leaving his face. “anytime. but, um… maybe next time, we won’t need the machine at all.”

and there it is again, that little spark of something—like he’s leaving the door open for whatever comes next. not pushing, not expecting. just waiting to see if you’re gonna step through.

you smile back at him, feeling your heart beat just a little faster. “yeah… maybe.”

college fling!joshua that would approach you with his shy ass in the hallway like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. ‘cause he wasn’t the type to just walk up to someone and invite them over. you weren’t expecting it either. but there he was, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it casual like it didn’t take him a full two minutes to get the words out.

“uh… i’m having a few friends over on friday. you know, snacks, music, nothing crazy. you should come.”

you remember his smile, that little tilt of his lips that had your stomach flipping like you’d already said yes before your brain could process. and obviously, you agreed.

so friday night rolls around, and you’re standing in front of his dorm in this fresh little dress you threw on last minute. not like you’re trying to impress him or anything, but you catch the way his eyes drop the second you step in. joshua’s trying to keep it together, but you can feel his gaze like a burn, lingering on your legs before he quickly looks away. there’s this subtle hitch in his breath when he greets you, and his cheeks turn a little pink, but he pulls himself back into being the polite, nice guy he is.

his dorm’s small but neat, smelling like fresh laundry and some subtle citrus scent from the diffusers he’s got stashed in the corners. there’s a few of his friends scattered around, all of them chill, chatting over music that’s playing just loud enough to vibe to. joshua’s close-knit group, not the party type, exactly what you expected. he’s quick to make sure you’ve got everything—“you want a drink? water? soda?”—and then asks if you need a blanket when he notices your legs.

“you good? it’s a bit chilly, i can grab something if you want.”

you almost laugh at how hard he’s trying to be respectful, like the thought of your legs exposed is messing with him more than he’s willing to admit. but you shake your head, leaning back on the couch with your drink and teasing him a little. “i’m fine, joshua. don’t worry.”

he gives you this awkward smile like he’s low-key relieved, but you see him still trying to fight his instincts to look.

after a couple of hours, his friends head out, leaving the place a little messy—empty cups and snack wrappers scattered on the table. you’re quick to start picking things up, despite joshua’s protests.

“seriously, you don’t have to clean up. i got it.”

but you insist, throwing away trash and stacking cups, and before you know it, it’s just the two of you alone in his small dorm. the quiet settles in, just the low hum of music in the background, and you notice how much more intense it feels without anyone else around. joshua’s hovering by the window, glancing out towards the campus, and then he shuts it without saying anything, locking the latch with this quiet click.

“just in case,” he mutters to himself, not looking at you.

you’re leaning against the counter now, arms crossed, watching him. there’s something in the way he’s moving slower. like he’s waiting for you to make the next move. but you don’t, ‘cause part of you wants to see where he’ll take it.

joshua turns, finally meeting your eyes again, and it’s different this time. there’s no one else here, no distractions, and he’s got that nervous energy radiating off him. “thanks for, uh, staying to help,” he says, his voice softer now, stepping a little closer.

“no problem.” you smile, and it’s so obvious what’s happening, but neither of you is calling it out.

he’s standing in front of you now, closer than he was before, eyes flicking between yours and then down to your lips. it’s subtle, but you catch it, and it’s like that’s all the signal you needed. your heart’s racing, but you stay calm, lifting your chin just slightly as if daring him to do something.

and he does.

slowly, almost like he’s scared to break the moment, joshua reaches out, one hand finding your waist, his fingers hesitant at first. then he pulls you in, just enough that there’s barely any space left between your bodies. you feel the warmth of him, and when he leans down, his breath ghosts over your lips.

you can tell he’s thinking about it—overthinking, probably—because he pauses, eyes searching yours, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. but you don’t. instead, you close the gap, brushing your lips against his. he lets out this shaky breath, and suddenly his hands are on you, one cupping your face, the other steadying your waist. he deepens the kiss, slow but knowing, like he’s taking pleasure in every second. his lips are warm, soft, but there’s this need in the way he moves.

your hands find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. he responds by pressing you back against the counter, not forceful, but enough that you can feel the solidness of his body, everything intensifying.

“is this… okay?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice low and breathless, and you swear the way he asks, so fucking polite in the middle of a heated kiss, makes you want to open your legs for him even more.

“yeah, joshua,” you whisper back, pulling him in tighter.

his lips are still on yours, but there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s kissing you anymore. “turn around.” your breath catches because the tone’s different. he’s not asking now, he’s telling, and the sudden deep voice is doing things to you. so you turn around, heart racing, hands bracing yourself against the counter. you feel his body press up behind yours, and his hand, slides down your waist, squeezing, as he grinds into you. it’s slow, teasing, and already you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

“fuck, joshua…” the words come out in a breathy gasp, ‘cause honestly? you didn’t expect this from him—not the shy guy who asked you to his dorm like it was some casual hangout.

“sorry,” he breathes out, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “can’t… fuck, i can’t help it.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay steady, but he’s not giving you the chance. his other hand comes up, gently pushing your back down until you’re bent over the small counter, ass pressed right up against him. you’re not even sure how it escalated this quickly, but fuck, you’re not complaining.

then you feel him, fingers brushing against the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose more skin, and his hand lands firmly on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make you gasp, your body arching a little further into him. “you okay?” his voice comes out breathy, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s fighting to hold back. and before you can even respond, he’s slipping a hand between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clothed heat, and you swear you hear him let out this needy ass moan, “fuck, you’re already so wet.”

you nod, holding back a whimper, pushing back into him for more. but he doesn’t rush it. his fingers slip under the fabric, pressing right where you need him, just enough to make you moan, and he chuckles—this soft, wicked sound that makes your skin burn.

“such a good girl for me, hm?” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear now as his fingers start rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. he’s not just pressing down; he’s moving in these subtle little zig-zags, shaking his fingers side to side, making your legs shake from how fast they are. it’s like he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to get you off, without giving you too much too soon.

you whimper, your back arching even more as his other hand slides up your back, then gently wraps around your throat. and it’s not hard, not really, but just the feel of his fingers there makes your mind go blank, and you moan, “joshua, please.”

“please, what?” he whispers against your ear, and his voice is so soft, so sweet, but his fingers on your clit are ruthless, moving faster now, leaving you sensitive enough so you can feel every inch of him after. “you gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.”

you let out a desperate moan, pushing back against him, “i need you to fuck me, joshua.”

you can feel him tense up behind you, and he curses under his breath, hands moving quickly now, yanking your panties down. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back as he fumbles with his belt, and you’re so on edge. the second you hear the metal clink of his belt hitting the floor, you’re already bracing yourself, because you can feel it—the way he’s lined up behind you, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, driving you insane.

he pushes in slow at first, but you can feel how fucking hard he is, stretching you open inch by inch, and it’s so much, so thick that you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. and joshua’s not saying anything, but his breathing’s ragged, and he lets out this low, drawn-out moan, like he’s trying to hold it in but can’t help himself.

“f-fuck,” he groans, his hips pushing in deeper until he’s fully inside you. he pauses there for a second, like he’s savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, and you hear this desperate little “ahh!” leave his lips, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

and you? you’re clenching around him, your body so fucking desperate for more. you try to move, but his grip tightens on your hips, holding you still. “no— fuck, no” he mutters. “lemme just… ngh.. fuck, you feel so good.”

then he starts moving, almost like he’s teasing you, his hips rolling into you in these deep, measured thrusts. but it’s not enough—you need more, and you try to push back against him, but he’s got you locked in place, his hand still around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure that has you gasping.

“joshua, please, more. i n-eed more!” you beg, words sounding more like a whimper.

his grip on your throat tightens just a little, his fingers flexing as he starts thrusting harder, rougher, his cock slamming into you with this wet, filthy sound that has you both moaning. his hips snap into yours, relentless now, and he’s fucking you like he wants to be engraved on your mind.the polite, careful joshua you thought you knew is missing, replaced by someone who’s desperate to ruin you.

he leans forward, his lips right against your ear as he groans, “you like this, huh? you like how i fuck you? hm? can you feel how your pussy 's swallowing my cock?”

and you can’t even speak at this point, just a mess of moans and gasps, your hands gripping the counter so hard that your knuckles hurt. all you can do is nod, your body trembling with every hard thrust, your clit throbbing as his hips grind into you.

then his hand leaves your throat and slides down between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, rubbing those same zigzagging from earlier, but this time faster. your legs nearly buckle, a scream leaving your throat and you're sure he's going to have a problem with his dorm neighbours later, and he’s moaning in your ear now, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking tight, i’m not gonna last long.”

you’re shaking, so fucking close, and you can feel him getting sloppier, his thrusts losing rhythm. his fingers press harder against your clit, now moving in these frantic little circles that make your body explode with pleasure.

“cum for me,” he groans, his voice all breathy and wrecked. “c’mon, baby, i wanna feel you cum around my cock. wet me all over, come on…”

your orgasm hits you before you can even take another breath, your whole body contorting as you cry out, legs tremulous beneath you. you clench around him so tight, and joshua lets out this filthy moan—“oh fuck”—his hips slamming into you one last time before he’s spilling inside you, groaning loud as he rides out his orgasm.

he’s the first to move, pulling out slowly, nearly timidly, and you hear him mutter something under his breath—probably apologizing, because of course he is. you push yourself up from the counter, your legs still shaking, and turn to face him. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and there’s this sheepish, almost embarrassed look on his face, like he can’t believe what just happened.

he smiles, a little shy but still clearly proud of himself. and then, just like that, he’s back to being the joshua you know—sweet, considerate, polite—offering you a towel and asking if you’re thirsty again, like he didn’t just fuck you into oblivion against the counter.

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Eight

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: sorry about how long this took i am busy and tired and also didn't want to write all this sad shit but alas, i did it. we are officially done with season one! i will be taking a small hiatus before i get to posting the next chapters for season two, but i cannot wait to continue this for you all. mwah mwah mwah

Word count: 8.8k

Chapter Eight

As your final week at the Dogtrack began, you found yourself already getting nostalgic. You wandered the lower levels gently, strolling in and out of every room, before you ascended the steps to the upper levels. You slalomed through the concessions, waving hello to the bar workers, cleaners, and others who were getting ready for the final game of the season that Saturday. You ascended another level to reach Rebecca’s office, and when her door loomed before you, you knocked upon it. 

Rebecca shot you a look of understanding when you entered her office, almost sullenly. You tried to keep your spirits up, but she could see right through you about this– the same way everyone else could when you gently popped your head around the locker room door that morning. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rebecca said, opening her arms warmly as you clicked the door shut behind you. 

You allowed her to encase you in a hug, one where you couldn’t help but imagine her as the Virgin Mary and you as her tiny baby Jesus. Rebecca’s bosom was just that comforting that you couldn’t liken it to anything else, but you would never tell her that. Not in a million years.

“Are you okay?” she asked, as she removed her calming grip from you. 

You nodded once. “Yeah,” you said, but your voice cracked involuntarily. “Maybe,” you added, and it only made Rebecca laugh sympathetically. 

“Did you submit your final assignment?” she asked. 

“Yes, thank fuck,” you breathed out, before you flopped yourself onto the sofa. “Every last thing I needed to do has been done, so now I just… wait, I guess.”

Rebecca dropped herself beside you and crossed her legs. “Waiting isn’t so bad of a thing, I suppose. I waited to see the Spice Girls live for over a year, and it turned out brilliant.”

“I think waiting for a concert is vastly different than this, Rebecca,” you let out. You spread yourself out on her sofa, starfish style. She reached out and grabbed your knee affectionately. “I’m not waiting for a once in a lifetime performance, I’m waiting for the inevitable end of coming to this place every fucking day.” You lifted your head up quickly, and shot a wild gaze her way. “What if they all forget about me?”

“That’s not fucking possible,” she said strongly. “And if you go off the radar then you can count on Keeley and I coming to batter down your damn door, or someone else.”

“Someone else?” you questioned, and your mind immediately went to Lasso. “I don’t think Ted would do that. He’s far too soft and squishy to break down a door, don’t you think?” you rattled off. 

“I didn’t mean Ted,” Rebecca said, squeezing your knee gently. You inhaled when she looked at you knowingly, before you dropped your head back down to stare at the ceiling. She didn’t need to say a name for you to know that she meant Roy. 

Roy Kent would definitely batter down doors, you thought, but whether or not yours would come into that equation was a mystery. He hadn’t battered down your door before, only knocked and begged to come inside… 

Was that the same thing?

“They’re going to bench him,” you said plainly. 

“I know,” Rebecca said. 

“I think he knows it, too,” you said. 

“I think you’re right,” Rebecca said, before she retracted her grip from you. She stood up strongly, and peered down at you like a giant. “No more moping, come on,” she said, as you allowed her to hoist you from the sofa. 

“If I can’t mope, what the fuck am I supposed to do for the next five days?” 

Rebecca smiled. “Enjoy it,” she said. “Before it’s all over, enjoy it.” 

On Tuesday, you grabbed a coffee from the cafe in the morning like normal. You scuffed your feet on the concrete as you headed to your office afterwards, but got immediately side tracked when you heard a ruckus from the locker room. Without dropping off your belongings, you headed there first to check out what was wrong. 

You entered the uncharacteristically quiet locker room, only to discover Ted, Nate, Higgins and Rebecca. 

“Why so hostile, Nathan?” Rebecca said, as a mischievous smile graced her face. 

“Wait… you know my name?” Nate asked, as you slowed to an almost comically paced slow walk. You held your breath, not wanting to interrupt the four of them. 

“I needed to know it for when I wrote your contract,” she said, before she sent a look your way. She winked at you, and you were reminded of a text from Roy a few weeks prior– Nate was due to get promoted, but for the past month he’d been afraid he was going to get fired. 

You had to admit it, but the look on his face was fucking hilarious. 

Ted smacked a hand down on Nate’s shoulder. “You’re not getting fired, buddy, you’re getting promoted!”

All of a sudden, the closed blinds of the manager’s office revealed the screaming team of AFC Richmond behind. They yelled and cheered, and Colin let off a confetti cannon as he burst through the door and into the main locker room. Nate’s shock and fear dissipated immediately, turning into excitement and appreciation, as soon as he locked eyes with Rebecca again. 

She handed him his contract, and the word coach at the top made him want to cry. This was what he’d wanted for so long, but what he’d never dared to think about achieving. Seeing his name on this contract, however, made everything change. He’d made it. He’d really fucking made it. The guys gathered like a swarm of bugs, picking Nate easily off the floor and gently swinging him in the air triumphantly. You laughed at their joy, their excitement, as you peered up at him atop Isaac’s and Sam’s shoulders. 

Roy gently approached you from behind. He skidded his knuckles across your lower back, alerting you to his presence. You crossed your arms and leaned back into him without even thinking. Your upper back thumped against his chest gently, as the two of you kept your eyes on an overjoyed Nathan.

You twisted yourself around and looked up at the smile on Roy’s face. You jabbed him in the abdomen gently, as he peered down at you. “You’ve gone soft,” you said, just loud enough for him to hear. 

Roy sniffed, trying to puff out his chest to counteract your words. “No I fucking haven’t,” he said, but it was clear that you were right. 

Without hesitation, you raised your hand to his face and gently prodded his cheek. “I think I just felt a tear,” you joked, before you prodded again. You widened your eyes in false shock. “No, I definitely did. You’re on the brink of crying, aren’t you?” 

Roy’s attempt at staying stoic went out the window upon your second prod. He swiftly pushed your hand away and guided your shoulders around to face the rest of the room, before he playfully wrapped his arms over your shoulders and chest. You leaned further into him, bringing your hands to grab hold of his forearms strongly. He was so close to resting his chin on the top of your head, and part of him wanted to, but he didn’t. You refrained from tilting your head back from fear that he’d pull away. 

Instead, the two of you swayed from side to side gently, smiling, laughing, peering out at the joyous scene before you. Neither of you dared to question the position you were in, whether mental or physical. You simply held on for dear life, and chose not to focus on the fact this would all be over in a matter of days. 

On Wednesday, you took your laptop outside to the stands. You sat there for most of the day, tapping upon your keyboard, until the late afternoon sun shone against the blue and red plastic seats of the Dogtrack. You only went inside to piss, or eat, or drink, but even those times were sparse. Even by the time practice had been and gone, you were still outside, soaking up the sun. 

The echo of footsteps on the opposite side of the stadium hit you, and when you looked up you were surprised to see the small outline of Roy. He headed to one of the blue seats in the stands, hands in his leather jacket pockets. You gently went to close your laptop, thinking about joining him, but you stopped when you saw another figure emerge. Ted walked up the stairs of the stands, before he slotted himself beside Roy in the sea of blue. 

Innately, you knew what they were going to talk about. Pulling off the bandaid. Quickly and without fuss, you grabbed your belongings and headed back inside. The guys were packing up to head home after a long day. You bumped into Sam in the corridor, and strolled to the car park together. 

“Do you need a lift? I can drop you home,” he offered, as you approached his car. Further down the car park, you saw Roy’s Jeep. 

You shook your head gently. “Thank you, but I’m good,” you said. Sam followed your eyes to Roy’s Jeep, and when he looked back at you, there was an understanding look on his face. 

“See you tomorrow?” he questioned. 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you replied, beaming. 

Sam drove off a moment later. When you were alone, you strolled towards Roy’s Jeep and leaned against the passenger side door gently. The Spring sun shone off the hood, casting an orange glow over the entire car park. This reminded you of before, the first time he’d ever driven you home from the stadium. The sun was the same colour, and it was so vibrant that his pitch black car had erupted with a volcanic glow. 

Secretly, you thought the colour orange suited Roy. 

You crossed your arms and looked at the ground, waiting for the inevitable moment that Roy appeared. You didn’t want him to be alone, not for this–  not ever, really– so you planted yourself on the concrete, content with waiting for him to finally leave for home. 

Roy stormed through the stadium, gym bag in one hand and his car keys in the other. He huffed through his nose painfully as he opened the doors to the car park, and was ready to scream at the top of his fucking lungs– until he saw you. You leaned against his Jeep, head down to the point where your hair covered the obviously sleepy expression on your face. Your arms were crossed over your chest, and your knees were slightly bent from tiredness. 

He slowed his pace as he approached you, and unlocked his car with his keys. You felt the car vibrate behind you, and noticed the flash of lights as it unlocked. When you looked up, Roy was no more than a metre away from you, and still fast approaching. You sucked in a gentle breath as he tugged open the passenger side door for you. 

“Jump in,” was all he said, and you didn’t have to be told twice. He shut the door behind you after you were settled and jumped into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, leaving the car park as fast as he possibly could.

The drive was silent. Roy didn’t turn on the radio, nor did you ask him to, either. When he turned down your street, he pulled onto the curb outside your building. He cut the engine, and the interior went utterly silent. Gently, you looked at him. He looked back, and his stare was enough to make you melt. 

You sucked in a deep breath. “Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. 

Roy’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. His entire body tensed. “No,” he said plainly. 

“Okay,” you said gently, shooting him a small smile in understanding. “If you want to, you know where I am.”

Roy nodded, trying to keep it together. “Yeah,” he said, but it came out forcefully, like he didn’t want to show what he was truly feeling. You didn’t press him, but instead grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. 

“See you tomorrow?” you asked, as you laid your hand on the door handle. 

“Yeah,” Roy said again, hiding behind the pain in his chest.

You got out of his Jeep, and slammed the door shut behind you. You sent him a small wave from the pavement, and before you could even reach your door, he’d switched on the ignition and veered off down the road. 

On Thursday, Roy didn’t come to the stadium. His absence was felt by everyone, especially the team. Ted was quiet for most of the day, trying to keep up his commonplace enthusiasm, but it was clear that he felt guilty. No one blamed him, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like he’d done the unthinkable. 

You grabbed lunch with Keeley, but the quiet and sombre feeling from the stadium had rubbed off on you, too. You swirled your fork in your plate of pasta, and had hardly touched your glass of wine. Keeley cleared her throat opposite you, before she leaned forward gently. 

“Babe,” she started, as you met her eye. “It’ll be alright,” she said, trying to keep things light. 

“Sorry, I’m being such a fucking downer, aren’t I?” you breathed out, before attempting to perk yourself up. 

“It’s understandable. Change is scary,” she said. 

“It’s like, even though I try not to, I’m counting down the minutes until it’s all over. At five o’clock tomorrow evening, I’ll be done at Richmond.” Saying it outloud had you getting choked up. You swallowed quickly to stop your throat from closing up. 

The cogs in Keeley’s brain started whirring. “You sound just like Roy, you know? In your article, when he talked about not knowing what to do after he retired.” You listened to her intently, thankful for her kindness. “There will always be opportunities beyond the now, especially for talented fuckers like you and him,” she said, and you huffed at her bluntness. “You must have had employers in touch after the article, surely?”

You nodded at her, and thought about your inbox full of job offers. “I’ve had a few, yeah. That’s not what I’m worried about, though. I could work anywhere, I think it’s just… everything else, that’s getting me down.”

The end of the season. The threat of relegation. Saying goodbye. Every-fucking-thing. 

“You’ve got time,” Keeley reassured you. “Your lease at the flat doesn’t end until July, you’ve got job offers left right and fucking centre, and, well– you’ve got Roy.”

You furrowed your brows quizzically, but that was counteracted by the small smile that curled onto your lips. “Got Roy for what?”

Keeley sent you an amused look. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that,” she said, as she shoved another mouthful of pasta in her gob. “I see the way you two are when you’re together.”

You huffed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, here.”

Keeley dropped her fork and pointed at you abruptly. “You’re in denial, babes.”

“I am not–”

“Yes, you fucking are! You’ve been around a whole bunch of sexy footballers for months now, one of which has gone out of his way for you, your degree and your future, not to mention he showed up at your door with an apology fit for a fucking queen. All I’m saying is, if I was in your shoes, I would have had him at least three times by now–”

“Keeley,” you warned her, through a wave of amusement. 

“What? Not even a fucking kiss? What a bloody waste,” she said, before she grinned at you with her teeth mischievously. 

“The last thing Roy needs right now is me scuttling around him.” You took a sip of your wine. “He’s got enough on his plate as it is, and I don’t want to make it worse.”

“Do you hear yourself, babes?” Keeley said, her eyes wide. “You’re exactly what he fucking needs right now.”

You scoffed at that, reminded of yesterday in his car. “No, I’m not. Even at the best of times, Roy has the emotional output of a fucking teacup, but yesterday…” you trailed off, taking another sip– more like a gulp– of wine. 

“Was it bad?” Keeley asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, it was bad.” 

Keeley leant across the table and grabbed your hand quickly. Her touch had superpowers, you thought. You always felt infinitely better when she found a soft way to reassure you. “His feelings aren’t your problem to fix, babes. You’ve let him know you’re there to support him, which is all any of us can do.”

You nodded, and let out a pent up breath. “Yeah,” you said, smiling at her. “You’re right, it’ll be fine.”

“All you need to focus on is enjoying the last days of your placement, alright?”

You chuckled at her. “I can do that. For you, I can do that.” 

Keeley squeezed your hand harder, and you let her. The two of you clinked your glasses together, as you enjoyed the final lunch break meal of your placement at AFC Richmond. 

On Friday, you started clearing out your office. You shoved all your supplies, books, post-its from Sam and the like, into a cardboard box that you could walk home with at the end of the day. You sat at your desk in the morning for the last time, and opened up your laptop despite having no fucking work to do. You skimmed through your emails, and added interview dates in your calendar, but you had to stop and hold your breath when you saw a new email fly into your inbox. 

It was from Pluto Press, the publisher that you’d meant to have your original placement with. They reached out after reading your article in the Independent, and had asked to set up a meeting for a possible job opening. Just like that, cogs had started flying into place. 

If you got a job there, you’d be able to stay in Richmond. In your flat, around your friends, around the boys, and around the club. You emailed back immediately, letting them your availability for an interview, and started curating a portfolio of your work before and during your time at AFC Richmond. Keeley was right— change was scary, but it was also exciting.

You just had to let yourself believe it all.

By lunch, you’d cleared out your entire office. It looked too bare, too empty. You swiped your hands over the cinder block walls— walls that you’d become so familiar with that it seemed painful to know you’d be leaving them behind in a matter of hours. 

Behind you, Sam knocked at your door. You turned and met his eye, and sent him a saddened smile.

“All packed up?” he asked, looking at the emptiness of it all.

You nodded, letting out a huff. “It feels so weird. I feel like I haven’t been here nearly long enough, but also for years at the same time.”

He strolled further into your office. You felt calm when he was near. “This place will do that to you. Make you settled and comfortable, but that is when time passes you by without realising.” 

“Yeah,” you acknowledged him gently, before sighing. “Are you on your second workout already?” Sam nodded. You stepped forward, and could see the other guys headed to the gym together through the door. A question danced in your mind. “No Roy today?” 

Sam shook his head. “We think he switched off his mobile. We’ve tried to reach out, but—,” He shrugged. “Nothing.” 

“I tried on Wednesday,” you said, as you leaned against your empty desk. “It was the same. Like he was feeling everything and nothing at the same time.”

“That has always been Roy’s way, I think,” Sam said. “He will come back if he wants to, and he knows we will be here if he does. No one is to blame for this.” 

“I know,” you breathed out shakily. “But, that’s just it, isn’t it?” You peered up at Sam’s soft and welcoming face, and you knew then that he understood you wholeheartedly. It felt good to be known. “It’s out of our control— but that’s when I want to fix things even more. It’s gutting to know we can’t do anything.” 

“That is because you are kind,” Sam said, and stepped towards you once more. “Too kind for your own good, sometimes. You want to fix everything all of the time, and feel responsible for other people’s feelings far too much, might I add.”

You huffed, feeling vulnerable. “Come off it.” 

“See!” Sam exclaimed. “You just proved my point for me.” 

You waved him off playfully. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” you trailed off. 

Sam settled comfortably. “I am going to miss this.” 

This. Your chats. Your moments of shared clarity. Sharing a space with one another every day of the week. 

You ignored the strain you felt when your throat closed suddenly. You swallowed away the urge to cry. “Me too.” 

He headed towards your door then, smiling knowingly as he left. “I will see you after?” he asked, lingering on the doorway.

You nodded strongly, despite the rapid way your eyes were welling up. “I’ll be here.” 

You finished up some final emails in your bare office, before you sat in the cafe with a cup of tea for the remainder of the day. When the clock hit 4:30pm, you left sullenly. You felt a strange sense of peace as you navigated the empty corridors of the lower level, and were surprised to find the gym and locker room utterly empty.

The guys were nowhere to be seen, and Ted and Beard’s office was quiet of all Americans and Brits alike, too. You sighed to yourself, as you looked up at the yellow believe poster above the manager’s doorway.

You couldn’t believe this was it. Your last day. You’d spent nine months strolling up and down these corridors and rooms, sharing smiles and commiserations with the team, a joke with Ted, a look at Roy. When you thought back to the September before, you’d been so annoyed to be in this position, but now? 

You wouldn’t trade this experience for the world. 

It didn’t feel right, though. It didn’t feel like closure, because you knew that someone was missing. Roy wasn’t here. He wasn’t here on your final day to roll his eyes, or boom profanity, or offer to drive you home just to spend a few more moments with you. He wouldn’t be starting on the pitch tomorrow, or may not even show up at all, as you sat in the stands for your last game under contract at the club. 

It was almost too much to bear. You’d started your journey here with Roy, and it seemed only right to end it with him— but that wasn’t an option anymore.

You let the last of your composure fall away as you finally let go. Your eyes welled past the point of staying dry, as tears crept down your cheeks, tracking shining lines down your face. You peered around the room as you held yourself, taking in the red and blue everywhere, the numbers and names on the cubbies, and fluorescent lights overhead. You’d never expected for it all to feel so sad. Leaving, saying goodbye, moving onto other things. 

You realised then that, if you had the option, you’d stay at Richmond in a heartbeat. Fuck publishing. Fuck your book. You wanted the comfort of the cinder block walls and the laughter trickling from every room. 

You wanted to stay.

“Is it really the end already?” Ted said from the doorway. You jumped from the surprise, and turned to him quickly.

You wiped your tears away frantically, trying to hide your face, but when his soft and knowing smile hit you, it only increased your sadness. He strolled towards you gently, hands in his pockets. 

You sucked in a shaking breath before forcing yourself

to speak. “Give or take twenty minutes, but… yeah,” you let out, sputtering out embarrassed chuckles as you did so. 

Ted peered down at you. Him and his moustache smiled at you. “Come here,” he said gently, before he encased you in a hug. 

You let him hold you, as you laid your head on his shoulder and sniffed away the last of your tears. 

“I might be joining you on the goodbye train out of here, too, y’know?” he said, as you pulled away from his embrace. “Oh! You should come and visit Kansas!” You chuckled at the ease in his change of tone. “We’ve got great barbeque, and none of that brown watered monstrosity that you call tea.” 

“I love tea,” you croaked, as your voice levelled out and away from a wobbling mess.

“I just don’t get it! Roy said the same thing last night,” Ted whittled on. Your gut lurched at the mention of Roy’s name.

“You saw Roy?” you asked.

“I sure did. He stopped me from getting hit by one of those taxis— sorry, black cabs— last night. And we had a little chat afterwards at my place.” 

“How is he?” you asked, trying to keep the desperation from your voice, if that was even possible. 

Even just a few days without Roy had you feeling fucking crazy, especially after your drive home earlier in the week.

“He’s doing alright,” Ted’s voice settled. “About tomorrow’s match though, well… we’ll see.” 

You nodded in understanding. At the end of the day, it was Roy’s decision whether he wanted to show up or not. You prayed he would, prayed he’d be there to hear you scream your lungs out in the owner’s box for the last time during your placement. 

“I’ve got something for you,” Ted said suddenly, before he pulled out something from his pocket. You hovered your hand out for him, and he placed a small, green army man in your palm. “For protection. Just a little goodbye present,” he added, and your heart swelled.

You held it in your fingers, and felt a finality surge through you. You peered up at Ted thankfully. “I’ll miss you,” you said. 

“You, too.” Ted smiled. “Now, come on! The guys have something planned for you.” 

You followed Ted out of the locker room, sniffing away the last of your tears as you did so. He zoomed ahead as you tried to keep up with him, and turned to the left towards the tunnel towards the pitch. You emerged into the late afternoon light behind Ted, and what met your gaze had your heart in your throat immediately. 

The boys stood on the pitch, holding individual signs with letters upon them that spelled out the words– write about us. 

Starting from Isaac, all the way to Sam at the other end, those twelve letters burned themselves into your retinas. Behind those boys, the rest of the team cheered. As your last day at AFC Richmond came to its end, you felt more known than you ever had before. Each of these players, and coaches, and crew, knew you so wholeheartedly that you could hardly believe it. Your impact had spread around the stadium off Nelson Road like wildfire.

It only cemented the love you felt for them all. Even if you wanted to, they wouldn’t let you remove yourself from their team after this. You were Richmond till you died, and you had never been happier about something being set in stone.

As the group dispersed, Sam, Colin and Isaac approached you quickly. You let them encase you immediately, ignoring the slight suffocation of knotted limbs and laughing bellies that surrounded all of you. You would have let them smother you to death in a heartbeat. What a wonderful way to die that would be. 

“When you go out tonight, you better have enough drinks for all of us, bruv,” Isaac said, as the four of you gently parted. 

“I’d be downing a pint with you if it weren’t for Man City tomorrow,” Colin said. “It’s best we get an early night and keep up our strength for the game instead, you know?”

You smiled in understanding. “Don’t worry about me. Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll be drinking in the pub after the game, anyway.”

Sam placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “I am already looking forward to it.”

You sent a look at each of them in turn, trying to portray just how much you appreciated them, how much you loved them, but you felt like it had to be said in words. You sucked in a deep breath. “I will,” you started, but noticed their confused faces. “Write about you, I mean. There’s already too much of you all within me that I’ll have to get it out on paper sooner or later.” 

Colin and Sam smiled like the sun. Isaac’s face scrunched up painfully, until it was clear he was holding back tears in his eyes. 

You walked home in the dwindling Spring sun. Down Nelson Road, across Richmond green, past Mae’s pub, and the like– you knew Richmond like the back of your hand now, and had no desire to leave. Lucky for you, you had a feeling you’d land a position at Pluto Press soon, which meant you wouldn’t have to uproot yourself again. You could stay in your flat, stay close to the guys, stay close to Roy–

You cleared your throat abruptly at the thought of the Richmond captain. You hadn’t heard from him in two days, and didn’t know if he was going to show at the game tomorrow. It was none of your business, either, but you still felt a craving to let him know that you were there for him; through thick or thin, despite all the shit between you in the past, and even now. Roy Kent deserved to know how much you loved him, and your time at the stadium that day had only made you all the more nostalgic and emotional. 

When you got back to your flat, you quickly opened your laptop and printed out what you had in mind. You were practically jumping by your printer as the ink cascaded over the once blank page, and were bounding out of your door before the words had even dried.

You rushed down your road towards Roy’s house, not even thinking about what you’d do or say if he was at home or opened his door. As the sun began to fully set over your small neighbourhood in Richmond, the fancy houses that you passed seemed to almost loom over you. They cast shadows upon the pavements and empty roads, but you didn’t hesitate as you approached Roy’s driveway. 

Gently, you folded up the small piece of paper you’d printed, and placed it on his welcome mat by the front door. Inside, the lights were off, but you still knocked quickly before you turned on your heels and left. You weren’t about to wait around, or call in on him out of the blue– not after his long week. So, you left as soon as your knuckles were done wrapping on his door, and rounded his driveway before he could’ve opened his door and caught you. 

Roy saw you leave. Through the windows in his porch, and the large panes of glass that showed off his living room, he saw you approach his home and leave immediately after knocking. Before he could reach his door, you’d already turned the corner of his drive, back towards your building. 

The urge was there to shout out, to run after you and acknowledge how today was your final day at the club, but he held himself back. He hadn’t seen you since he’d driven you home, since he’d been feeling everything and nothing at the same time. He didn’t want to face you while he still felt the repercussions of it all, and especially not before the game. 

It was selfish, he knew, but you would have stuck around if you’d wanted to see him, too. As he looked out at his driveway, he wondered why you’d even bothered to knock upon his door and leave straight away– until he looked down. On his welcome mat was a small, folded piece of paper. Roy bent down and grabbed it, before he retreated inside, back to the dark. 

He didn’t like turning on his lights a lot of the time. It angered him that he had to pay to put on the lights in his home, and it felt even stupider that he needed them when he mostly looked at his phone screen, or the television. They were pointless, most of the time, but as he sat at his dining table, he turned on a lamp to the side of him.

He unfurled the note you’d left him, and as his eyes traced the printed ink– alongside some of your own writing– he found himself smiling. 

It was the email from your lecturer, when he’d told you about Roy’s impromptu visit to your university, all those months ago. It felt like it’d been five years, not a little over nine months. Beneath the email, you’d written something short and heartfelt– A reminder of the time that we became friends. Thank you for everything during my time at the club. Whether you play or not tomorrow, I’ll be yelling from the owner’s box for you. 

Roy sat back and inhaled deeply. “Fuuuuck,” he whispered. It cemented his decision for tomorrow in a millisecond; he would go, even if he was on the bench. He would go for you. 

As you walked to Nelson Road the next day, nerves bubbled in your gut incessantly. This was it, the final hurrah. Richmond’s threat of relegation was imminent, and it was only a matter of time before them and all the fans would witness their downfall. You didn’t even want to think about it, it felt blasphemous, but it was almost impossible not to understand how much this game meant. 

Even more so when you thought about Jamie Tartt. This was the first time in a while that he’d been back at Man City, and against his former teammates as a consequence. You knew that Jamie wouldn’t care– he’d go out there and play like he normally did, to an annoyingly good level despite his ego, and wouldn’t think twice about dominating against his old team. 

But the guys– they would feel every sting, they would take every hit, and they would be heading outside onto the pitch for an all out battle. You knew it well. 

Against your wishes, you chose not to go to the locker room and greet the guys before this game. Instead, you headed for the owner’s box immediately, and found yourself sitting there alone for the first twenty minutes before the pre-game started. You knew that Keeley and Rebecca would be around, but you were almost glad that you got some time to yourself. Just to breathe, to soak it all in, before you got ready to yell for your life. 

As the stadium started to fill up, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, and when your eyes traced over the message,  the butterflies in your stomach seemed to mellow out. It was from Roy.

Still in the owner’s box? 

You smiled as you typed your reply, and sent it without any hesitation. 

Of course. Still not the caretaker?

Roy smiled at his phone in the locker room, sitting quietly as everyone prepared for the game. He’d just handed off his Captain armband to Isaac McAdoo, and didn’t fully know what he was feeling. Knowing you’d be outside when he stepped upon the pitch was enough at this moment. 

Not yet. I’ve still got game in me, even if I am on the fucking bench for this. 

It’s too bad. I was hoping to see you rightfully start on Jamie, but this time you’d be on the opposing team. All the more dramatic. 

Roy huffed to himself. It was impossible not to feel the comedy in your words as you sent them his way, both over text and in person. 

Don’t tempt me. I’ll still fucking do it if I get the chance. 

Looking forward to it. 

“Alright, fellas!” Ted clapped his hands together. Roy sent one last message, before he put his phone in his bag and out of the way. The boys settled into their pre-match pep talk, and that was that. 

You read Roy’s final reply, feeling a warmth that you’d never be able to describe. 

See you out there. 

Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins joined you soon after. As the minutes whittled down before kick-off, you tried and failed to place yourself in some kind of zen mode. The air was almost too thick, and coupled with the upset you felt about leaving Richmond, you spent the majority of the time until the players emerged trying not to fucking cry. 

The atmosphere shifted as soon as the players ran out of the tunnel. You held your breath as they lined up for the anthem, and leaned over the edge of the box so you could see them all better. The unmistakable look of a Captain band was on Isaac’s arm, over Roy’s, and you felt proud of them both. It mustn’t have been an easy decision for Roy to make, but he’d still done it. Isaac must have been feeling nerves ten times what he was used to, but he wore the band with pride. 

After the anthem, the teams split up on each side of the pitch. When Roy would usually head to his starting position, he exited off to the sides and headed towards Richmond’s bench. He slipped on a long-sleeve thermal, before he took a few moments to peer around the stadium stands. Richmond’s bench and coaches were right beneath the owner’s box; you had a full view of all the second string players and Ted and Beard alike. Seeing Roy there was like an entirely different feeling– he was closer to you, which you didn’t mind in the slightest. 

As Roy peered around the entire stadium, he twisted himself around to land his gaze upon the owner’s box. His eyes found you in seconds, and yours glued onto his in response. You leaned further over the lip of the box, and rested your chin on your knuckles as you looked at him. You smiled. He smiled back. Quickly, you shuffled your hand from beneath your chin and made a simple OK sign with your fingers. Roy chuckled to himself unavoidably, before he gently sent you an OK sign back. 

You glanced quickly at the pitch, and the match was about to begin. You stood abruptly, with Roy’s eyes still on you from below. Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled it alongside your loudest Come on, Richmond! imaginable. 

Roy had to turn away to hide his smile. It was colossal as he headed towards the bench and sat down. It didn’t go away until the whistle blew and the game began. He waa going to miss seeing you everyday, but he knew that you would still go to games at the Dogtrack. That should have given him some comfort, but it didn’t. He knew his time was up. 

The game started, and you didn’t sit down for the first half in its entirety. Dani scored halfway through the first half, and you erupted when he did. You hugged Rebecca and Keeley like there was no tomorrow, and that early had the team in great spirits for the rest of the half– until it was fucked. A sneak attack had Man City emerge into the box, and with two minutes to go until the whistle blew for halftime, they equalised. You let out a heartfelt “Fuck!” when they did so, and found yourself dropping back into your seat glumly. They’d been so close, but they simply had to hold it together now. You watched silently as the team scuttled back to the locker room for the interval.

Ted had a plan up his sleeve. He had the power of Beard and Nate on his side, and they had the advantage of knowing City’s star player through and through– Jamie Tartt. If he was still the same after he left, then there was a chance that the guys knew how to get to him and mess up his game. It was a longshot, but it was a good place to start. 

They needed speed, that was for sure. When Jamie got the ball, it instilled the fear of man into every single person on the opposing team. He was unstoppable, and almost impossible to tackle when he got going. That was the goal– keep the ball as far away from Jamie fucking Tartt as they could. 

“We’re so close, guys,” Isaac spoke up suddenly. “Another goal, and we clinch the win. We just have to hold our defence together, you get me?” 

“Keep that ball away from Jamie,” Richard said, and nods of agreement rounded the room. 

“Exactly right, boys,” Ted joined in. “If we get out there, if we believe, we can do this!” The energy shifted tenfold, and the priorly defeated guys were pumped up once more. “Roy, you’re starting in the next half. I want you back on that pitch,” Ted added finally, before players started trickling out of the locker room. 

Roy glanced over at Isaac. Isaac gave him back his Captain armband without a second glance, smacking a hand on Roy’s shoulder warmly before they headed back to the pitch. 

Your heart jolted when Roy started in the second half. You knew Ted well enough to know that he wouldn’t bench Roy for the entire game, but it was a surprise when he swapped him out after halftime. It was true that Richmond needed fast players to keep up defensively, and despite Roy being slow now, you knew that he held more in terms of power. 

Players were scared of him. He had an anger that always came out on the pitch, one that left players, referees and coaches alike with a similar mindset– do not get on Roy Kent’s bad side, because he will make you pay. 

As the second half proceeded, it was anxiety inducing how little things happened. It was a full back and forth, with hardly any opportunities for Richmond or Man City to go for a goal. Both teams had put their defences up tenfold, and neither wanted to risk that and fuck up the rest of their game. It was almost like a stalemate, like a disaster waiting to happen. 

As full time approached, you could hardly fucking breathe. You clutched Keeley’s hand tightly as the guys kept up with each other, and simply tried to get through this shit. Jamie hadn’t yet found an opportunity to break through, until there were less than five minutes in it. When he snuck through, you shot up from your seat and screamed. 

“Tartt’s going for the box!” you screeched at the top of your lungs, clutching your hand over your heart and crunkling the Richmond shirt that you donned fondly. 

The home fans in the crowd rose intensely, as they noticed a player creeping up behind Jamie. Even Arlo and Chris in the commentator box could hardly believe it– Roy was going for Tartt, running at speeds that hadn’t been seen from him for a matter of years. He was stealthy, pumping his arms in perfect harmony with his legs, until he launched himself into a perfect sliding tackle.

You raised your hands to your mouth as he did so, and the ball was knocked from Jamie’s orbit as the two of them dropped to the grass harshly. The cheers for Roy were impossible to block out, and you joined in as soon as you recognised the familiar tune. 

He’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where! Roy Kent! Roy Kent! 

You rejoiced with Keeley and Higgins in turn, pumping your arms triumphantly within the owner’s box, until the clock restarted– but that moment didn’t come. Instead, as you laid your eyes back out onto the pitch, Jamie reluctantly stood and shook himself off after that tackle, but Roy…

“He’s not getting up,” Keeley said, confused. “Why isn’t he getting up?”

Your eyes burned as you took in the image of Roy, sprawled on the ground, clutching his kneecap. Something was wrong, and that was plain to see. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. This couldn’t be it, surely. This couldn’t be the time he wasn’t able to get up and keep playing. Not now. 

Sam and Isaac approached him quickly, and huddled around him. The physio was on stand-by, and Ted and Beard were practically chewing off their fingernails in anticipation. Sam helped Roy up slowly, dragging him up from the pitch as he took in the chant that he’d become so accustomed too. It had echoed throughout the Premier League for more than a decade, almost two. He was a household name, respected by footballers, pundits, coaches– you. 

Roy limped off the pitch, waving to the crowd in good nature. He would never be wheeled off, or walked off with help, you knew that. Before he fully left for the tunnel, he quickly pulled the Captain band off his arm and passed it to Isaac. The two shared a moment that had your heart bombarding into your throat–

This was it. The moment that Roy had been talking about before. His last day of playing football. With an injury that bad, that had been settling for years and damaged further by overuse of his joints, you didn’t have to be a rheumatologist to know that he was done for. That final tackle had fully fucked his knee.

As he hobbled out of view, you couldn’t bear it any longer. You abruptly stood, and left the owner’s box without a word. Keeley and Rebecca saw you go, but said nothing to stop you. Instead, they shared a look with each other that said a thousand words– you were exactly what Roy needed. 

You fast-walked along the corridors of the Dogtrack, descending to the lower levels until you hit the familiar grey concrete floors. You passed by the full size pictures of players on the walls, and ignored the uncomfortable beat of your heart, until you stumbled around the corner to the locker room. 

You lingered by the door, and swallowed painfully, before you emerged into the doorway. Roy sat by his cubby. He’d shrugged off his shirt and thrown it on the floor unceremoniously. His right knee was red and already bruising, as he attempted to make himself comfortable. It was no use, though, not alongside the tears in his eyes that were welled so full it was a miracle they hadn’t already dropped down his face. 

You stepped into the room gently, and Roy jumped when he saw you. “No one’s allowed back here during a game,” he said bluntly, but the wobble of his words was enough to make your heart subtly crack. 

“I won’t tell,” you said gently, trying to diffuse the tension as best as you could. Roy knew you weren’t going to leave, but when goosebumps hit his skin, he flinched further away from you. 

“I told you, you have to get out,” he tried again. You only kept up your slow pace towards him. You weren’t going to back away from this, not when he needed you most. 

Roy’s aversions to being social, to being emotional, to being vulnerable, scattered all over the floor before you. You ignored them, and continued placing one foot in front of the other, until his attempts to deter you heightened even further. 

“I mean it– stay the fuck away from me!” 

You stopped when he said that, but still stayed in place. Peering down at Roy softly, you flicked your gaze over his face gently. He looked wounded, in more ways than one. You knew this day would fucking suck for him, and wanted to be there for him desperately. As much as he’d yelled at you to leave, you knew that was the opposite of what he needed. 

Slowly, you closed the gap between you. Instead of sitting beside him on the bench, you knelt to the floor before him. At this level, you were practically face to face, and Roy could easily see your intentions. Gently, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. Your fingers skimmed his jaw on the way, and his eyes stuttered shut at your touch. He leaned into it, and brought his hand up to cover your own softly.

You shuffled closer to him, placing yourself between his legs, as you leant upon his healthy leg. He let you, and urged you to do so, as he leant further down towards you. Roy’s breaths were shaking as he inhaled and exhaled, and a few tears fell from his closed eyes and splattered upon the concrete floor. 

“I don’t know what to fucking say,” Roy croaked painfully, as he opened his eyes and landed his stare upon you. 

You peered up at him thoughtfully, and swiped your thumb across his damp cheek, mopping up a few tears unintentionally. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Roy exhaled shakily once more, before he gently dropped his forehead onto your own. They bonked together almost clumsily, but you held each other in place for dear life. “Okay,” he said, trying to calm down. For a moment, he removed his forehead from yours and replaced it with a chaste kiss, just for a second. You shut your eyes as every hair on your body stood up on end, before he replaced his forehead back onto your own. “Thank you,” he said. 

As roars sounded from outside, neither of you knew which direction the match had gone in. All you knew was that the other was breathing, and this was something new for both of you. After all this time, being close to Roy didn’t feel shocking, or abrupt, or anything of the sort– it felt normal. The two of you stayed close until his heart had calmed down, and the adrenaline in his body had disappeared enough for his knee to start fucking killing him. 

You found an ice pack from the training room, and rushed back to his aid as soon as you could. Then, you sat next to him on the bench silently. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, and you draped your arm around him to fiddle with the hair at the nape of his neck. Roy’s fingers traced your knuckles distractedly, and the two of you stayed like that until the unmistakable echoes of his teammates emerged from the corridor. You didn’t want to move away, neither did he. 

As the season and your placement drew to a close, you knew that new things were out there. For you, for Roy, for the rest. Roy knew it too, as he contemplated his options after this injury, and this loss. All he had the energy to rationalise in those moments after the result were you related– would you still be near, would you still give him your time, would you still hold him this close? 

As much as he felt your warmth, radiating from every pore and crevice and fingertip and the like, invigorating his flesh and bones and blood and everything that made him, him– he couldn’t help but wonder… would all of this fade alongside this change?

As you laughed alongside his teammates, after their relegation, and his fucked up knee, and Ted’s possible resignation, he found himself smiling about all the good you offered every single person in that room. But, it wasn’t entirely truthful. Roy was afraid. But, he put on a happy face. He held your hand when it felt right, and he let you lean into him during Ted’s post-match talk. He smelled your perfume in wafts and held himself back from looking you directly in the eye, from fear that he’d do something stupid and place his lips upon yours. 

Roy Kent had often held himself back, but he didn’t want to do it with you. Not now, not after all the shit that had happened over the past nine months, and the fact that he’d become so used to your presence. But as he sat there, laughing through the pain with his team, and his coach, and you– he knew that want and circumstance were different things. 

Sometimes you couldn’t help the way things turned out– and not even you, or Roy, or AFC Richmond, were immune to those sullen twists of fate. 

CHAPTER NINE

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff@ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax @kingleahhh @hoalkk1 @sunderland-6 @ellouisa17 @thesestrangerslikeme @elissaa @scrumptiousroadponymoney @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @ysmmsy @seacactusplant@pedritosgirl2000 

[nehswritesstuffs]

Sanji, Warrior of the Sea

So, um, my husband very specifically asked for this fic so everybody pls thank Mr. Nehs; this is very silly; things don’t happen in here precisely as in the series canon, but what do I care?; essentially rated T but with a bunch of strong cussing (and that bathhouse scene) so be warned I guess; no shipping unless you put goggles on idc

Sanji, fresh out of Whole Cake Island, decides to make good of a shit situation and have Franky tinker with his raid suit. He just didn't take one thing into account: NERDS. [3696 words]

The weight of the canister was heavy in Sanji’s hand as he removed it from his inner jacket pocket. He and the rest of the crew were headed towards Wano, where the advance party was already in place. Leaning against the railing of the Sunny, he was tempted to chuck the thing as far as he could and forget about it, leaving the device to the briny depths of the ocean. It was only just barely slipped to him by Reiju, her ability for sleight of hand almost nostalgic.

“Use it better than we ever did,” she had whispered, and then had been gone. Now he was leagues upon leagues away, with little instruction on how or why.

He might have been his mother’s son, but as he held the device he thought of his father and what he would say. The geezer would cuss and kick him with the peg, most likely, but would also tell him to figure out a way to use it better than those sacks of skin that called themselves his family. Beat them at their own game and all that shit. He weighed his options: use it, shove it deep in his locker, or fucking yeet the piece of garbage as far as he could, use Moonwalk to catch it, and then throw it again for maximum coverage.

Then again, when he boiled it down, there was one more option that he needed to consider…

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You want me to what?” Franosuke slurped up soba as he looked at the device in Sangoro’s hand. It didn’t look like much, but from what the cook was implying, it was honestly one of the highest-tech pieces of equipment either of them had ever touched, which was impressive given the present company.

“See what you can do about making this thing… better,” Sangoro said. “I got it from my sister—Father thought he knew best and made one for each of us.”

“…even though you hate him?”

“He was hoping that I’d… come around one day.” Franosuke scoffed at that. “You get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, yeah; I get you, brother,” Franosuke chuckled. He held out his hand and Sangoro handed over the device. “Usohachi and I are supposed to be hanging out tonight to work on some other projects, so I think we can fit this in.”

“Thanks; I owe you one,” Sangoro said. “Burgers might be a stretch, but I think I can manage some steak if you want.”

“Nah… I’ll take a rain check on that. Too busy this week.” Franosuke pocketed the device and went back to his soba. “This is good eatin’ though. Wouldn’t mind maybe an extra serving of this.”

Eh; he’d think about it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sanji kicked the dinosaur in the face, hard. Who the fuck was this guy, thinking he could just destroy people’s lives just because he was searching for him? He hated assholes like this, acting like nothing they ever did came with consequence, and he’d had enough. Taking the canister out of his kimono sleeve, he activated it, knowing that although he could take the asshole without it, he was going to need some seriously big guns to stop him before anyone else got hurt in the middle of the sleeping city.

Out of the canister came a costume, which wrapped around his body with precision accuracy. Sanji could feel that the fabrics were different from what his sperm donor had engineered and he was put more at-ease because of it. The raid suit finished forming and he felt damn good, like he was taking everything those bastards worked for and was pissing and ashing on it simultaneously. His opponent scoffed, however, or at least as much as a spinosaur could.

“Are you mocking me?!” he growled. “Real men don’t use a fight to play dress-up.”

“That’s selling it short,” Sanji smirked. He pressed his fingertips to the side of the helmet, activating the sensors. Varied readouts and stats flashed across the visor—bingo.

Using Moonwalk, Sanji bounced around in the air, confusing the shit-mannered mook until he was able to find an opening. Once he saw it, he acted swiftly, slamming a flaming foot into the back of the dinosaur’s neck. His opponent was knocked out cold without him damaging any other buildings.

“That’ll teach you,” he smirked. He watched as the spinosaur shrank down to a Human shape. Tch; asshole had no right to challenge him. It was then, however, that Sanji heard a surprised gasp. He turned around and saw… Traffy…?

“Holy shit,” Traffy marveled. “It’s Sora!” Sanji cringed at the sound of his mother’s name—what the fuck?!

“I’m no one!” he claimed. “Just… uh… just passing through!” Traffy replaced himself with a pebble and got directly within Sanji’s personal bubble, touching his cape and admiring his clothes.

“The attention to detail is absolutely exquisite,” he said. “Excellent craftsmanship; they spared no expense.”

“Get off me,” Sanji grumbled. Where the fuck was Traffy when the dino-jerk attacked? Way to have shit timing. He pulled the cloak out of Law’s hand and sneered. “Don’t touch the goods.”

“Uh… yes, sir,” Traffy mumbled. Sanji did not like the way his captain’s ally was looking at him, so he took one step back, found where the settings were, and… oh, thank fuck, Franky kept it. He turned on the cloaking device, essentially granting him invisibility, hoping it would allow for a quick getaway.

Trafalgar Law instead squealed like little kid…? Oh, he did not have enough smokes on-hand to unpack that.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Okay, granted, Sanji knew that sliding into the mixed baths was going to be trouble. He was likely to see way too much man peen for his liking, not to mention be in a position to get caught, but it was worth it to spy on wome—ahem—test the limits of his raid suit. Opportunities like this were becoming fewer and farther between as everyone prepared for the upcoming raid on Onigashima, and he needed to know exactly what the thing could do before throwing himself headlong into battle.

It was practical, okay? Field testing. Tactical information gathering.

Oh, there were a lot of women in the bathhouse that afternoon that made his heart race and the front of his pants feel tight. He swallowed hard as he watched them all from his perch in the rafters, above where others might see his invisible form displacing steam. The desire to palm himself was almost unbearable—this was definitely good… erm… data he was collecting.

Usopp was going to shit bricks when he told him what this thing could do.

Then, suddenly, he saw her come out of the changing room: Nami. All others seemed to fade into nothingness as he drank in the beauty of her in a towel. She was gorgeous, as always, with her silky skin and curvaceous body. A paragon amongst goddesses, she was, and it was enough for him to cave. He put his gloved hand on the front of his crotch and felt how hard his cock was underneath it all. Beloved Nami-swan, who graciously allowed the world to merely glimpse a tiny fraction of her beauty, was right here for all to see, and she was only in a towel.

Sanji stayed where he was for a moment while Nami was attempting to lay low, which was near-impossible thanks to all the looks she was getting. The local ladies loved her—fine by him—but… wait a second?! What were those men doing leering at her?! How dare they! He was certain that they couldn’t appreciate Nami like was right and proper! What did they know about a woman’s form? There was no way these men knew what he, a true connoisseur, did after all! He was so incensed by their unrefined palates that he nearly did not notice the new person walk in: Hawkins.

Shit; he was looking for people with the reverse crescent moon tattoo. A bathhouse was the perfect place to look for such a thing, wasn’t it? Oh no, what was he going to do?! He couldn’t give away his position, but Nami might be in danger. Well, she was strong and could take care of herself, but did she have her Climatact tucked away under the towel? What about the other women? He didn’t trust these losers to protect them, not to mention the fact that Nami shouldn’t have to protect herself unless there wasn’t a man like him around! Shit, shit shit… how was he going to explain this…? His infidelity to Nami’s beauty…?

Then it happened.

Like a shimmering light shining forth in the darkness!

A beacon of hope for all those who felt lost!

The pinnacle of the feminine form!

Nami-swan dropped her towel!

Maximum full-frontal!!

Sanji couldn’t take it any longer! Oh, the unfettered beauty! The pristine curves! The raw, natural majesty! He blacked for a moment, for the next thing he knew he was covered in blood down his front and everyone was staring at him.

Oh shit.

“Drake…” Hawkins said, his voice cracking high. He didn’t pull his eyes off Sanji despite the fact he was trying to gesture and grab at the same time with the arm closest to the door. “Drake, it’s him!”

“Did you find a suspect?” asked a voice from the foyer. X Drake… oh, the last thing he needed was another dinosaur idiot to deal with. Drake stepped into the bath area and glared at Hawkins, though once he saw Nami he froze in place, eyes wide and face red in blush. “That’s not a suspect, is it?”

“Not her, you idiot!” Hawkins hissed. “It’s Sora!” There was that name again! It was really beginning to grate on Sanji’s nerves, but he guessed he could handle it if it meant that Hawkins and Drake were distracted enough to let the people who were escaping… well… escape. Hawkins side-shuffled over to Drake and touched the other man’s face, turning it towards Sanji.

When Drake’s eyes finally followed his face, his jaw flopped open.

“It’s Sora, Warrior of the Sea!” Drake gasped. “That’s his vintage uniform from the Jutrich Island Saga!”

“Specifically his landing in Kester,” Hawkins agreed. By now, Sanji was on his feet and feeling incredibly awkward—what the fuck were they talking about? “He is more dashing in person, isn’t he?”

“That’s… not the word I’d use.”

“That is because you have no taste.”

“What in the hell are you two talking about?” Sanji scoffed. He activated the readouts on his visor again and they showed that the three of them were quickly becoming the only ones in the building—excellent.

“Surely you jest,” Hawkins said, trying to sound casual. “That uniform? The cape? Helmet? You are none other than Sora, Warrior of the Sea, taken straight from the comic pages.”

…comic pages?!

“Neither of you have known the touch of a woman, have you?” Sanji deadpanned.

“Like you’re one to talk!” Nami snapped. Sanji glanced over towards her and saw that a robe was now covering her as she scrambled to leave with, wait, Robin-chan was there too?! Oh, and they were there with Shinobu. He needed to make sure they got out safely, but with the way these two were… seas… ogling him, he wasn’t sure that they’d get out of there if he moved even an inch. “Keep them distracted! We’ll meet you later!”

“Nami-swan, I…!” Sanji reached out with his hand, but he was too late… she was gone. He let his hand clench into a fist and turned towards Hawkins and Drake, who both seemed too star-struck to care that potential captives were fleeing the scene. “You two made me lose my chance with Nami-swan!”

“I didn’t think he’d be based off a real person,” Drake marveled. He looked… deeply confused, but also like he wanted to screech happily like a little kid that just found a frog.

“You need to answer us something,” Hawkins said. He somehow narrowed his eyes further. “Something only the real Sora would know: how did you escape from Germa 66’s clutches in the Gezelligate Arc?”

Sanji was ready to murder something.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Law stood in the prison corridor, Drake not too far away, as he waited impaitently. He didn’t like doing it this way—neither did the dinosaur, it seemed—but at least it was doable. It could fit in his grand plan. Not very well, but it fit.

“Here you are,” Hawkins announced from around the corner. Law’s ears perked up and he watched as the aforementioned Supernova led Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo into view, all three of his crewmates half-in tears.

“We’re sorry, Captain!” Bepo sniffled. “We didn’t mean to get caught!”

“No worries,” he replied coolly. “I know something they don’t realize.

“What’s that?” Penguin wondered. Law simply smirked and opened a Room.

“The famed Warrior of the Sea is on our side.”

Before his crewmates had a chance to react, Law swapped them out with pebbles and dropped the Room. He held up his arms in surrender, unable to not laugh at the look of horror on Hawkins’s face.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t think I knew?” He felt Drake put seastone cuffs on him from behind, jostling him roughly. “Hey, watch the goods—I need those hands to perform surgery.”

“Like you have a medical degree,” Drake grumbled.

“…and for all I know, you’re probably still a cop,” Law scoffed. For that, Drake pushed him towards Hawkins, letting their prisoner stumble into the dirt floor. “Hit a nerve?”

“You know what? I don’t even care anymore.” Drake took a step back before turning to walk away. “Do whatever hoodoo nonsense you want to him. I’m washing my hands of it.”

“Hoodoo is a completely different discipline,” Hawkins droned, “but I’ll try.” He snapped his fingers and two Pleasures guards came by to lift Law from the floor and drag him off to a torture cell. “I’ll make him regret invoking the name of Sora.”

Law chuckled to himself as the mooks dragged him away. These two losers were in for it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Okay, mooks taken out and transported to varied Flower Capitol alleyways, check. Hawkins—aka: Senior Mook—unconscious and bleeding out on the floor, check. His sword and hat back—check. Information he pried out of Senior Mook before allowing him to pass out. Check and noted. Law was feeling good as he got ready to leave the prison house. Just a few more moment of checking out the outlying areas with his Devil Fruit and he could accurately pinpoint a safe getaway. He stepped out into the corridor and began to walk out—he was a free man, after all.

“Trafalgar.” Oh, yeah, there was one more that he didn’t get rid of, though to be honest, it felt like an afterthought. He turned and saw Drake standing there, staring at him with an… well, the look eas cryptic, that was for certain.

“You’re not stopping me,” Law said casually. “I’m finding a place to go as we speak.”

“Then before you leave, I have a request,” Drake said. Law raised an eyebrow.

“What’s a not-cop want from a humble pirate like myself?”

“Do you think…” Drake blushed, not believing he was saying this. “I mean… could you get me an autograph from Sora?”

“We’re on different sides… you know that, right?”

“All my time I was in the Navy, he was their best-kept secret. To get an autograph from one of the best special ops agent? Whose solo work inspired all of us? It might get you a favor or two.”

“Hmm… I’ll think about it.”

In a flash, the man vanished and an upset tomcat appeared in his place.

Well, it was worth a shot.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“What the fuck did you do to this thing?!” Sanji hissed, shoving his raid suit in Franky’s face. The cyborg simply scoffed and kept on eating.

“I improved it—made it super—just like you asked, brother,” he replied. It was the night before they were to raid Onigashima and all he wanted was some relaxation time before putting his nose to the grindstone. The surrounding area was a mishmash collection of their crew and varied allies, whether reluctant or not, the vast majority not paying attention to them. “I don’t know why you’re so pissed off.”

“I’m pissed off because I keep on running into weirdos and creeps who think I look like a comic book character!” Sanji complained. “Did you design it to look like something else, or did you use an original design?!”

“It’s just a little thing I remember from when I was a kid,” Franky shrugged. “Every so often in Water 7 we’d get these collection books of this super comic where a guy with a robot and pet seagull would fight bad guys. Only ever got a couple of books—flat broke compared with only ever seeing random volumes. Probably wasn’t something that did too well.”

“It did well enough that three different people have called me by the exact same name,” Sanji scowled. “What was the name of the comic?”

“I dunno—Sorne… Sorley… Sohan… Solly…” Franky snapped his fingers between each name as he tried to remember. “…Sorrel… Soslan… Sota… Sora…”

“That’s it!” Sanji shouted, pointing at Franky. Ooohhhhh… he couldn’t believe this was happening! “That’s what those nutjobs keep calling me!”

“Sora…?” A moment, then it clicked. “Oh yeah, that’s right! Sora, Warrior of the Sea! Kind of a weird series if you ask me. Total Naval propaganda. Then again, I was only really there for the robot…”

Sanji screamed in anguish and began to storm away, stomping his feet angrily as he went off to have an entire packet of smokes at once. He slammed his shoulder into Law on his way, which caused the other to stop and glare—what the hell…?

“What’s the matter with him?” he asked Franky. The cyborg simply shrugged.

“No whimsy,” he claimed. “Meanwhile, I’m full of it this week.”

Law simply shrugged and walked off—not his crew, not his problem.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was the Raid on Onigashima. Sanji was attempting to hold his own against the throng of solders that were coming at him. Okay, so he wasn’t attempting so much as succeeding, but it was beginning to wear on his nerves that each time he knocked one of the Beast Pirate freaks down, five more popped up in their place. It was like there was a never-ending sea of them waking up and he smelled like breakfast.

Suddenly, over the din of the battle, Sanji heard a familiar scream. He looked up and saw that Kaidou was up on a balcony, holding Momonosuke over the drop that would have the boy splatter on the Performance Floor. As much as he wanted to trust that Momonosuke could turn into a dragon and fly away once let go, he also didn’t trust that Kaidou or any of his goons had gone and put seastone on—let alone in—the kid.

Shit. No matter what, this wasn’t going to be good. He could let the perverted little shrimp fall to his potential doom, but… Nami would be really pissed at him for letting that happen, wouldn’t she? Not to mention Luffy. Damn it. Sanji decided to break out the big guns and put on his raid suit, immediately cloaking himself in invisibility. The Beast Pirates he had been fighting all stared in confusion—there had been someone there before, wasn’t there?

As Sanji catapulted himself up into the air with Moonwalk, Kaidou did precisely what Sanji thought he would and dropped Momonosuke. Lucky, he was able to snatch the kid after he fell only a few feet, bringing him back up to Kaidou’s level while still invisible.

“What the fuck is this?” Kaidou slurred. He grabbed a large bottle of sake from a nearby Beast Pirate and took a swig—he clearly didn’t know if he was too drunk or not drunk enough. “I didn’t think little piss-brats like you could fly.”

“Who has hold of me?!” Momonosuke whispered in a panic. He grabbed hold of Sanji’s cape and attempted to pull it around himself. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sanji grumbled. Someone unseen threw a rock, meaning to hit Momonosuke but hitting Sanji in the side of his helmet instead. His cloaking device sparked before fizzling out—it overloaded and needed some time to reactivate.

“Who the fuck are you?” Kaidou frowned. He did not seem like he was very amused by the whole thing.

“Hey, I know that tech,” Queen realized. “You’re one of Judge’s brats, aren’t you?”

“Wrong: I’m Sora’s boy,” Sanji spat. Without another word, he turned on his heel mid-air and jettisoned himself towards the Performance Floor. There, he was able to spot a trio of Traffy’s men—the Mink and two of the ones with dumb hats—and he tossed Momonosuke at them. “Keep him safe until someone approved comes to get him, alright?”

“Yes, sir, Sora, sir!” Penguin said as he picked up Momonosuke. Shachi saluted. Fuck… more of them…

“Uh… guys…” Bepo seemed to be uncomfortable. “That’s just one of the Straw Hats…”

“Bepo, Bepo, Bepo…” Shachi tutted. “Here we thought we raised you right! The Captain said it’s Sora, so it has to be Sora!”

“…but that’s clearly…”

“Sora!” Stupid One and Stupid Two said in unison. Sanji honestly felt ready to kill them both, Traffy and the alliance be damned. At least the Mink was able to use his brain…

“There he is!” Sanji looked over his shoulder and saw Law, Hawkins, and Drake all running towards him. Shit! He turned his attention towards the Mink and nodded gravely.

“All of you are from the same place, aren’t you?”

“The North Blue, yeah,” Bepo said, “but I’m originally from Zou.”

“Then I thank you for your service,” Sanji replied. The Mink seemed puzzled, only to yelp in surprise as Sanji picked him up and tossed him at the three incoming Supernovas before running away.

Goddamned nerds needed to leave him the fuck alone!

[mydictionary-yume]

A3! Lucille Hatano SR “Trajectory of Romance” | Backstage: “The Girl of Your Dreams” Part 1

Sakuya: …and Sakura took way too long talking about the little penguin toy she got from her Papa, she liked it so much!

Lucille: Haha, then it seems like the daycare’s show and tell was a success, huh?

Sakuya: It really was! The kids liked it a lot more than I thought they would.

Lucille: Now that I think about it, I think we did something similar when we were their age, too. I remember bringing in a plushie, but I don’t think I was good at keeping it hidden away until I had to show it off. 

Sakuya: Some kids did that today, too! I guess some things never change. 

Lucille: Do you remember ever doing one?

Sakuya: I don’t think so… A lot of that time is pretty fuzzy for me, sorry. 

Lucille: You’re fine, I don’t blame you. Then, if you had to do it now, what would you choose?

Sakuya: Hmm… Maybe a stuffed animal? 

Lucille: Even now?

Sakuya: Well, all of them are from my favorite people, and they all hold a lot of special memories, like Blue!

Lucille: Oh, that’s true! He is pretty important to you, huh?

Lucille: (Memories, huh… stuffed animals are pretty nostalgic, but I didn’t even consider that they could be that special.) 

Izumi: Oh, Sakuya, Lucille, I didn’t realize you two were still in here! It’s getting late, isn’t it?

Sakuya: Director! I didn’t know you were still up. 

Izumi: Well, I’m helping out a friend’s troupe this week, so I’ve gotta finish up a few more blocking notes… Right now, I just need some caffeine.

Lucille: Director, don’t pull a Tsuzuru on us! Get some sleep! 

Izumi: Not until you two do.

Izumi: Do you need a ride home, Lu? It’s getting kind of late, and you probably shouldn’t be walking out alone.

Lucille: A-are you sure? I’ve heard, um, things, about your driving. 

Izumi: Nonsense! You’re only a few blocks away, it’ll be just fine, I promise. C’mon, it’s already a few hours after that damn curfew, you should be getting home anyway.

Lucille: Sigh… Alright. Saku, pray for me.

Sakuya: It won’t be that bad!

Izumi: He’s right, you know.

Sakuya: Good luck out there. I love you. 

Lucille: I love you too.

Lucille: *Chu!*

Lucille: Let that be your last memory of me before I fade…. away…

Izumi: I heard that!

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

Lucille: …

Izumi: …

Lucille: …Hey, Izumi?

Izumi: Yeah?

Lucille: Can I ask something weird?

Izumi: Of course!

Lucille: What do you think Saku values most?

Izumi: Sakuya’s values?

Lucille: Yeah… I’m trying to figure out an anniversary present for him, and I'm kinda out of ideas.

Izumi: Oh, that’s coming up soon, isn’t it? It’s hard to believe you two have been together that long.

Izumi: Well, to answer your question, I’d think it’s pretty simple, right? He cares a lot about what he loves: acting, his family, and, of course, you. 

Lucille: Me?

Izumi: Yeah, you! You should see him when you’re not around. Citron even tells me he murmurs your name in his sleep. 

Lucille: Really? Even then?

Izumi: Yep. I don’t think I’ve seen him so passionate about anything other than theater before. You should consider yourself lucky.

Lucille: (He dreams about me. Oh my god he dreams about me. How often am I on his mind? Does he really miss me then?)

Lucille: (Wait. If I’m a part of his sleep, maybe I can get him something like that…)

Izumi: Hey, Lu, this is your uni, right?

Lucille: Huh? Oh, yeah, it is. I can make it to the dorm from here, thanks for the ride.

Izumi: Mhm! And, hey. Good luck on that anniversary present of yours.

Lucille: Thanks! Good night!

Izumi: 'Night. Stay safe.

Lucille: (I think I know just what I’m gonna get him.)

Next part >

[onceonafullmoon]

Dreams of the Past and Coffee in the Morning

Dazai x Fem! Reader

Just a short lil drabble I typed up, dedicated to @shadyteacup for trying to help me with recovering my past fics, thanks Minnie! No warnings! Reader has prophetic(sorta?) dreams, but is unaware of it. Dazai is a little shit, as always. Slightly suggestive.

You don’t know if you want to punch him or just leave the cafe. Briefly, you consider the third option of just pouring your remaining coffee on him, but decide against it, caring too much about your precious coffee to spill it.

“You know, I had a dream about you last night.” You remark casually, taking an idle sip from your cup.

“Definitely needs more sugar.” You think.

He seems to perk up at this, leaning in to what would be too close for comfort had he been anyone else, and then waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh? And what sort of naughty things were you dreaming up?” He says a smirk playing on his lips.

You roll your eyes at his antics, ignoring the slight blush you feel rising up and reach for a sugar packet.

“Not like that, and not ever.” You say glaring at him, tearing your packet open a bit more viciously than necessary. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

He leans back pouting. 

“Not ever?”

You decide to ignore him in favor of killing your own embarrassment, and continue on with your original topic, stirring in your sugar whilst you think back on your dream.

“Anyways, it seemed weirdly realistic, like that dream I had about that tiger. Like the same feeling of witnessing something while lucid.”

“...Yeah? What happened?”

“Nothing too crazy, it was just you at a bar talking to a man with auburn colored hair and a stubble… you guys seemed close. The bar seemed cozy, dimly lit, and you were drinking… whiskey? I think. You had bandages on your face and you were wearing a black coat.”

You pause, unaware of the way the man next to you stiffened at your words, continuing to stir your coffee rather absentmindedly.

“Actually come to think of it, I thought it was strange that the stubbled man was wearing your coat… but that’s neither here nor there.”

You ramble.

“I couldn’t make out what the conversation was, but you guys seemed happy. Well the auburn haired man and you were. There was another one, he had glasses and black hair, looked annoyed with you both… but… I think he was happy too deep down.”

“That so?” Dazai mutters, seemingly lost in thought.

“I’m not sure why… I just got the feeling that you were all very close. Like it was some precious moment to be cherished.” 

You pause again, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Just right.

“I dunno, I guess that’s why I felt like I had to tell you. Because it seemed so important, even if it was just a dream.” You finish, turning over to him, only to see a strange look on his face.

Nostalgic maybe? Almost pained, if you didn’t know any better.

You give him a slightly concerned look. 

“...Uh, are you okay?”

Dazai lowers his head, making you feel even more concerned.

“Okay…” He murmurs, making you furrow your eyebrows in worry.

Worried, at least, until he dramatically throws his head back, making you jerk in surprise.

“Okay?! How could I possibly be okay? A cute girl dreams of me and she’s only focused on other men?!”

…

“What.”

“Tell me, (Name), what am I lacking? What can I do to make you only see me?!” He practically begs, clasping your free hand in both of his, making the waitress glance over at you both amusedly.

You don’t know if you want to punch him or just leave the cafe.

Briefly, you consider the third option of just pouring your remaining coffee on him, but decide against it, caring too much about your precious coffee to spill it.

“Stop that!” You hiss, pulling your hand back from his grasp. “I’ve already made it clear that I’ll never dream of you like that anyways.”

“Oh-“ Dazai slumps into his seat, a hand over his heart. “The sting of rejection… but every beautiful rose has its thorns.”

“Then don’t pick the damn flowers.” You snap.

“But that’s the allure isn’t it?” He whines.

“You’re hopeless.” You sigh.

“Be my hope then?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off.

“One more crude joke and I’m out.”

He whines incoherently, but you just roll your eyes and take another sip of your coffee, hiding the small, begrudging, smile on your lips.

Just another typical Monday morning, but somehow you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lookismaddict]

Lookism Chapter 432 Memes/Thoughts I Have:

(SPOILERS !!! I don’t own any of the Lookism panels and the translations. Only the memes that I made.)

I’d like to say, thank you for reading my reviews and thoughts for each chapter so far. And thank you for liking the memes. 😳💖 But bruh, this chapter man… There’s a lot being revealed, so let’s get into it!!! 😌✨

Well crap. Eugene’s got some leverage on James Lee too. Wtffff 😭😭😭

WELL… SHIT. R.I.P. JAMES LEE IS GOING TO BE U S E D ✨

HE LOOKS SO UPSET SITTING IN THAT LOW ASS CHAIR NOW. I CAN’T GET OVER THE WAY HE’S SITTING ON THAT CHAIR FROM LAST CHAPTER. SORRY GUYS. 💀

And let me guess, you gonna do that to James too...? 🤔 

DAMN. HIT EM WITH THE THREAT, JAMES LMAAAOOOOOOO. THESE TWO ARE ALREADY THREATENING EACH OTHER SDFHSDKFHSAKJDFHSDF. I’M- 💀💀💀

GOOD LUCK WITH THAT!!! HAHAHAHAHA... 😶 (Also, James. That’s Crystal’s dad too. She’s might hate you for it lol. UNLESS-  👀 Plot twist: she hates her dad too.)

Ok, I kinda get WHY he’d bring up James’s murder case in the first place. It’s like the “check and balance” thing where you counter them if they do something wrong or betray you. I get it. Eugene and James both have dirt on each other in case one betrays the other, but it sucks to think that Eugene has the upper-hand here because of his connections with the police. He can cover up ANY dirty thing that he does. Also, he can use his knowledge against James whenever he wants so James is just... stuck. Poor guy. Imagine having your ex-boss blackmail you and NOW your new ally blackmails you just to help him. 😭

Yayyyyy killer bros together!!! 😍😍😍 The Psycho Alliance has made a brand new treaty. 🤭

Literally, it really be like this. 

Ok, but why do I find this hilarious? They’re still young, and they have so much time and opportunities to spend their youth without doing any illegal or gang related activities. Yet, their main goal is to kill an old guy. LMFAO OK, JUST IMAGINE. A random old guy sees them chatting outside in front of a cafe or something. discussing their plans about taking down Charles Choi. Then, this old man walks up to them, right? He asks them, “Oh my, you kids are so young! Don’t you have any special things that you want to do in your lives? Don’t just sit around and let time go by. You should go out and do something with your lives!” and then they reply with, “Oh, we are! We’re off to kill an old guy because we hate him!” Like... 👁👄👁  Bros, are you good? LMAAAOOOOOOOO 

Also, if you think this template is familiar, then you’re right. I couldn’t resist reusing this template because EUGENE REALLY GOT +25 CARDS UP PEOPLE’S ASSES. ESPECIALLY JAMES’S IN THIS SITUATION.

“Hey Alexa, play Often by The Weeknd!” 🥵🥵🥵

I’M SORRY. YOU GUYS ARE TIRED OF ME OBSESSING OVER THIS MAN, BUT LOOOOOOOOOOK AT HIM!!! 😍😍😍😍😍 LIKE GAAHHH DAYUUUUUUUM. THIS MAN CHANGED INTO A SIMPLER OUTFIT, BUT HE STILL LOOKS SO FIIINNNEEEEE!!!! UGGGHHHH. Ayo he can bend me backwards bro, I DON’T CARE. Gawk Gawk 9000? Uhhhh... LET ME CONSIDER- 👀 NAH I’M KIDDING... Or am I...? 😏 I’D LET HIM FOLD ME TOO. 😭😭😭💀💀💀💀💀 (And ofc he’s drinking Hibiki. 😂 Like brooooooo... hottest Yakuza I’ve ever seen. You can’t DENY.) 

*N S F W  M E M E S  W A R N I N G*

Sorry. I just had to. 💀 ALSO, COMPLETELY UNRELATED BUT...

I APOLOGIZE. I GOT NO “STOP” BUTTON WHEN IT COMES TO THIS MAN. 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 I’M SO SORRY!!! 

*E N D  O F  N S F W  M E M E S*

AAAAAAAAND THE OLD MAN AGREES. HAHAHAHAHAHA Bruh, I’ve never seen him genuinely smile before. Is it just me? He always look so grumpy and serious all the time like  >:(  Tbh this panel really surprised me lol. 

EW. BRUV. WHO BROUGHT IN TRASH OVER HERE??? 😭😭😭😭 HAVEN’T SEEN THEM IN FOREVER PERO LIKE, I DON’T MISS ANY OF YOU LMFAOOOOOO GTFO.

OK, BUT THIS IS SO NOSTALGIC!!! SEEING LITTLE DANIEL BEAT THEM UP. 🥺🥺 This makes me reminisce the older Lookism chapters.

Also nah, nah, nah, nah, nah. You’re all getting your asses beaten for sure. Daniel will clap you all. Each. 👏🏽 And. 👏🏽 Every. 👏🏽 One. 👏🏽 Of. 👏🏽 You. 👏🏽

OHHHHHH... WELL, SPEAKING ABOUT DANIEL-

TIME TO GET HELLA CLAPPED!!!! 😆😆😆😆😆😆😆

These fools. Smh. 

OMGGGGGG IT’S DANIEL’S MOM!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH IT’S BEEN FOREVER. 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ BEST MOM EVER!!! WE LOVE YOU!!!! ALSO, NAH. YOU FUCKERS ARE FUCKED NOW. HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT SOMEONE’S MOM, LIKE WTF IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU? Do they not have respect for anybody? Sometimes I think about these so called “bullies” in this Webtoon. Like no wonder you guys are so fucked up, y’all don’t got any parents or something? No guardians who’d teach you how to be a decent person??? Any manners? 💀 At least Daniel has a mom who knows how to treat her own son. I’m guessing y’all are just jealous that you don’t have a great mom like Daniel who’d sacrifice herself just for her son because she LOVES HIMMMMM!!! 😤😤😤😤 If any of them approach me, I’m throwing hands. Idc. 

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🏃🏽‍♂️🏃🏽‍♂️🏃🏽‍♂️🏃🏽‍♂️🏃🏽‍♂️🏃🏽‍♂️

 Daniel Park for FIFA World Cup 2026. ⚽️🏆

YEEEEESSSSSSS THAT’S OUR BOI. AHHHHH I’M SO PROUD OF HIM!!

And when that one bitch from your old high school called you ugly, but now thinks you’re hot... 😑 

OH MY GOD. IT’S HAPPENING!!!!

OH MY GOOOOOOODDDDDDD!!! 

MA’AM, WE WERE AS SURPRISED AS YOU ARE WHEN WE FIRST SAW HIM CHANGE  TOO. 💀 AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! FINALLYYYYYY. WE GOT TO SEE HER REACTION TO HIS TRANSFORMATION!!! UGH. I’M GONNA GO CRY NOW. 😭😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

He has matured into a very good man. And a fine one too... I’m so proud of him. His character development had come such a long way. 😭💞

THIS IS JUST MY THEORY. (Before any of you argue about this and flame my ass, I’m telling you now. This is just my opinion. Pls don’t get heated by it. Thank you.)  💀

You know it’s about to get serious when an old person did the, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” pose. 🚨

FINALLY. Jinyeong Park’s time to shine. 🤩 I’m getting a Darth Vader and Luke moment here. “Luke.... I am your father.” (That’s the only Star Wars reference I know. My bad.) And Jinyeong belongs to the dark side (The Worker’s First Affiliate), while Daniel is the main protagonist who belongs on the good side. Call me goofy, I know. Because my wack ideas make me think about my life choices sometimes. LMFAO But ANYWAYS, I CAN’T WAIT FOR DANIEL’S MOM TO EXPLAIN WHO JINYEONG PARK IS. I’m just glad that Daniel got to see his mom after everything that he had been through. The kid needs a break, and I’m here for it. ❤️

ALSO I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE HIS FAMILY’S REACTION TO HIS TRANSFORMATION. AHHHHHHH I’M SO EXCITED!!! 🤪

[latinapoetbts]

Nostalgic Love 2 | KTH & Reader (Latina)

Third Base: First Touch Summary: Prom Night make out, kissing, finger and oral (male receiving), weed smoking two high school students who were best friends. Unrequited love. Note: Written in all in one go, no editing. Third Base: First Touch

I was nervous to ask him, but it truly was always how I wanted it to play out. It was how I envisioned it and dreamed about it since entering high school. Now it wasn’t exactly the circumstances I wanted it to be, but I certainly would take what I could get. I typed the text over and over again second guessing myself, wondering if asking over text was lame or if I was being too old-fashioned to want to just call him and ask. 

It’s not a real date. It’s not a real date. He will probably say no. So I’m already prepared. It’s no big deal. 

I take a deep breath and decide to be brave and rational. He is my best friend so he would expect for me to call him and not just send a text. Damn, it was exhausting managing my emotions with him. Trying to be causal and act like a best friend who is not madly in love with their best friend. It was so fucking hard. I’m going to need therapy most definitely in college just for the amount of anxiety I have built up on hiding my feelings. I tried to play everything out in my head. He’ll be mad I didn’t tell him what happened sooner and confused if I’m not reacting as any normal person should react to what happened to me. But I was already just all cried out. There were not that many tears to begin with and the tears I did share were the thoughts I had regarding whether I was worthy of any love at this point. 

Here we go. Just do it already. I send the text ask him how his day was, send him a random photo of the day with friends, and ask if he has some time to get on a video call. It was Wednesday and I knew it would be just a few more days before I got to see him for the weekend. I knew that it was date night for him and Jenni but I needed to get it out. I pick up the video call his immediate response.

I see his beautiful beaming smile and feel instantly at peace, “Hey, y/n, what’s up. By the way, that picture is too funny.”, I smile. 

“Ya, I thought you would think so. So, I know it's your time with Jenni, but I really just couldn't wait till Friday to ask and we don’t need to get all the details Tae just think about it.”, I bit at my lip, I know I’m giving myself away.

“Hey, y/n it’s ok, you know I’m here for whatever you need. Just ask me.” I smile my heart fluttering any time he’s so sincere with me. I also would be lying if I didn’t feel thrilled that Jenni would probably be pretty irritated I was interrupting their date night. She has not been very warm and fuzzy with me since they started dating shortly after Tae gave me that kissing lesson. I stop the thoughts, I didn’t want to relieve the pain and rejection I felt after experiencing my first kiss with him and then he immediately started dating Jeeni a girl from his school. This was the driving force that led me to where I am this very moment. 

“I wanted to know if you free oh say, May 18th from 6 to 10?” I bit my lip now with a playfulness because of my aloofness and lack of directness.

“I’m let me check my calender, I think Im working but you know I’ game right when I get off for anything.” I see the camera go blacking know he’s looking at his calender.

“Wait!? That’s your prom night! What the fuck happen? Are you not going? What did did he do? That asshole, I know he did something….” I let out a sign.

“Let's talk about it later Tae… I’ll..”, I try to to avoid the conversation.

“Y/N, hell no, tell me what he did, I’m not letting this go…”, My whole body warmed at his protectiveness of me. 

“Tae, not right now ok, I swear I’ll tell you everything….” 

“Fuck, y/n you better! And yes, I’m available no matter what. I’ll be there to do whatever you want ok..Hold on I’ll be right there!”, I heard Jenny voice in the background, I knew I should just say goodbye.

“Hey, Tae it's cool I’ll see you Friday ok! …” I smile at him.

“You sure, you ok, I can talk it out with you right now…. Wait! Fuck,...”  I couldn't help but smile more seeing how annoyed he was with her calling out to him.

“I'm fine really, go, go,... I don't want her to hate me more… bye…”

“She doesn’t hate you y/n.. She…” I shush him.

“Shhh, ok. Ok. bye. I’ll see you Friday!” I hang up not letting him get in the last word. I hoped there would not be a fight between the two of them because of me but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I secretly wished they were not together. 

The night was perfect. I felt beautiful and Tae looked beautiful. He was also so sweet to me, from the moment he arrived at my house. We took pictures and my brother gave us “the talk.” Since our parents were out of town celebrating their anniversary he felt the need to be my personal cock blocker. After telling Tae Hyung that he would hang him from his balls from our backyard tree if, “you even think of fucking my sister tonight. So imagine what will happen if you do fuck her”. I was not too embarrassed because this was typical behavior from my youngest older brother. The actual prom dance was fun and loved every minute of dancing with Tae Hyung. There were a few rough patches between Chris and I. But Tae Hyung was right by my side so I didn’t have to speak with Chris and neither did I want to. I half expected him to confront me and half not. But I always wasn’t too surprised that he had ignored me nearly the entire night, busy with Jennifer. The girl he cheated with on me. I believed that without Tae Hyung by my side, I would have felt all those feelings of rejection and worthlessness, seeing how easy it was for him to cheat on me. I know my heart wasn’t fully given over to Chris because Tae Hyung had a huge portion of my heart but I was trying to move on, and Christ truly was helping me. I cared for him and could see myself falling for him at some point. Maybe. But I would be a liar if I didn’t admit seeing him making out with Jennifer stung. But Tae Hyungs smile was like healing to my soul. Tae Hyung had decided to leave it was only 30 minutes before they closed the dance down and people were making their plans for the “prom after party”. 

“What do you want to do Tae? I’m up for anything…” I tell him adjusting the hairpiece in my hair looking over his shoulder and watching people leave. 

“I’m not really up do going to a party if that’s ok with you because I do still have to work tomorrow, but if you want too…”, I smile at him.

“It’s fine Tae. I didn’t really want to either. Lets go…”. He smiles back at me.

“Ok. I’m just going to run in and use the bathroom, I drank way too much water!”, I laughed and nodded at him, grabbing the keys from his hand and turning to walk to his dad’s car. I saw someone approaching from my side thinking it was some of my classmates ready to leave.

“ Why did you big him? Huh? Because you wanted to rub it in my face. You a fucking a slut..”, And that’s when I heard his voice, tone irritated. How dare he call me a slut after everything he did.

“What!? What the fuck are you talking about? Don't call me that, you asshole!” I gritted my teeth at him, my whole body going tense. 

“What? You expect me to believe that you were not fucking him the whole time you were with me! Fucking him and not fucking me!”, He neared my face, and I could smell he had been drinking.

“No,! That's not true, I never had sex with Tae! I’m not a slut! Fuck you, Chris! And get the fuck away from me!” I shouted turning to open the car door my body trembling with anger. 

“Whatever I don’t want nasty seconds anyway, bit-!”

Chris was not able to even finish his sentence before Tae Hyung’s fit made contact with his face knocking him to the ground in one go! I was shocked. Within seconds Tae Hyung was on Chris landing punch after punch on his face. It took three guys to pull him off of Chris. Thankfully the guys were friends of mine who had seen the whole thing take place. They help get Chris up and out of our way so that we can head home.

“Hey you ok?”, I asked my body still shaking slightly from witnessing the amount of aggression Tae displayed. I had never seen him that angry or ever fight with anyone.

“Ya, I’m fine. I can’t believe that piece of shit called you a slut. I’m so sorry y/n.” I looked at his hands on the steering wheel seeing how bruised and bloody his knuckles were, I had to admit I was slightly turned on. 

“It’s ok tae, it was sweet of you to defend me but you could get in trouble for what happened…” I couldn't hide the worried tone in my voice.

“He deserved it and he sure as hell didn’t deserve you…”, I see his hands tighten on the stirring wheel and blood starts to ooze a little. 

“Your bleeding Tae”. My voice was soft. The car rolls to a stop in front of my home.

“Come on inside, let me take a look at your hands,” I tell him in a commanding voice my eyes tell him I’m not taking no for an answer. 

“Ok, Dr. First Aid…” opening the car door. Immediately after walking inside with him, I tended to his bloodied knuckles in the guest bathroom. His shirt was ruffled the three buttons were missing and his hair was scattered like it had been wind-whipped. He looked even hotter like this, I was losing my shit. His eyes locked on me the entire time I tended to his beautiful hands but I refused to meet his eyes. I could not because I felt like I’d burst into flames with how hot my body felt being this close to him in such a small space. 

“Ok all done! How does it feel now”. I beam.

“Fucking hurts, but it was worth it. You got any good pain meds?” He follows me as I walk out of the bathroom. I tell him I will change and look around in my parent's room and our upstairs bathroom. I couldn't find any pain meds not even Tylenol because my family was all anti- modern medication, I could take generational racial trauma for that. Then the thought occurred to me that my brother's weed stash should do the trick. I grab a pre-rolled joint and quickly throw on my cutest pair of silk pajama shorts and a button-down top.

“No pain meds, but this might do the trick…” I hold the joint up in my hands. He grabs it from my hand grinning from ear to ear and grabs my hand leading us to the backyard and inside our tree house. It truly was ours, as we worked for two summers around the neighborhood, saving our money to buy the materials and build the tree house. 

“This is perfect.” he turns on our solar lights and we get comfortable on the floor mats. He lays next to me holding the joint in front of our faces.

“You want to go first?”. I nod my head.

“Sure, I’ll get us started…”, he grins, his lips smirking, meaning he was about to say some snarking comment.

“Oh, are you doing to show me how it's done y/n? I didn’t know you ever smoked! I’m hurt. I’m starting to doubt I’m your best friend, now that you have been keeping secrets from me. What else have you been hiding?” He wags his eyebrows at me his hand over his heart like he is hurt. My confidence rising I tease him right back.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” I tease and light up the joint letting the smoke fill my lungs. 

“I do want to know what kind of —-” My deep coughing, and hacking from the smoke stops him mid-sentence.

“Damn y/n…” He starts to laugh.

“Shut the fuck up and smoke already, or let me have it…” I bark out laughing as well.

“Ok. Ok…” he takes a huge deep inhale from the joint, holding it in his mouth. Looks like he had plenty of experience smoking and I wondered with who? He had more experience than me because he barely coughed. We spent the next 10 minutes in silence just passing joint back and forth between us. I loved this moment so much, our bodies lying inches from each other, my anxiety completely gone because of the weed. 

“Damn, why is it so cold its basically summer already.” I break the silence feeling the goose bumps on my skin when the draft from the cool night breeze flowing through the open tree house window hits me. I prop myself up scanning the room with my eyes.

“Well, you are practically wearing nothing in those little ass shorts. Come here I’ll help keep you warm” I whip my head at him a giggle spilling from my mouth. He reaches out with his arms his hands making grabby fingers like a toddler. 

“That’s a terrible pickup line and you look like a toddler like that”, more laughter spilling from my lips as I turn poking his ribs with my finger. 

“And what would you keep me warm with…” He props himself up and leans over towards me his eyes flashing.

“Only good girls get to find out how I can keep them warm”, he laughs wagging his eyebrows up and down at me and I laugh too.

“Wow. Is this how you make girls fall at your feet? I laugh more falling backwards against the floormat. I couldn’t stop laughing.

“Well, sadly it doesn't work on everyone…buuuut I know a few different ways I can keep you warm…” I felt the heat of his body as he shifted even closer to me. When I open my eyes his head is propped up on his arm and his eyes are slowly trailing from my lips to my breast. His fingertips feather across my exposed midriff and trace the skin at the heam of my shorts. I laugh even more and my body warms hearing him join me. We were both giggling fools.

“How are you so lame but so fucking hot at the same time…”, a grunt sounded from my throatand  I felt my body heat as I turn my head to face him. God, he was fucking beautiful. The moment our eyes locked, I licked my lips.

“So What do bad girls get?” a smirk filled his lips as he cocked an eyebrow high at me.

“Punishment…” His lips swoop in tasting my neck. I suck in a breath my chest rising and falling. His fingers slip below my shorts. Everything was happening so fast. I felt like I was on fire and I was desperate for more. I hiss feeling the soft pads of his finger tips stroke my pussy lips so gently, causing my body to shudder. He continued to suck and lick at my neck, his teeth grating against my skin. Deep gurtteral moans forced themselves from the pit of my core unleashing into the night without my control. My carnal sounds only urge him on and that was perfect because I wanted more. Finally his fingers pierced through my swollen, tender wet lips but not nearly deep enough.

“Oh fuck, y/n. Your so wet.”, I was damn near rabid with want as I arched and thrusted my hips against his fingers desperate for him to explore the depth of my core. 

“You want more? (kissing) But, you’ve been a bad girl, y/n (sucking), teasing me with your tits barely covered (nipping) and with your ass (licking) hanging out of those shorts”. I was panting burning against is lavaishing of my neck. He began working his blessed mouth down my collarbone and over my clevage. 

“Please..Tae..”, I was reduced to begging, as I grabbed his hand, forcing his fingers to plunch deep with in me. I gasp escaped me at the delicious and foreign feeling fo fullness from his fingers. I had touched myself to salasoush thoughts and fantasy of him for so long but having his fingers finally inside was everything. I thursted my hips against his fingers chasing the building burning in my core, anything to feel more of him. His warm wet mouth licked and sucked at my nipple over the thin fabric of my tank top cause my moans to fall from my lips.

“Y/N, fucking hell, Im going to cum like this…” he mummbled over my nipple rolling the pebble in his mouth a grunt springing from my mouth. My fingers laced into his hair smashing his mouth harder into my breast.

“No!... Not until I suck your dick….” I panted in a commanding desprate tone as he brought my bodying higher, trembling and matching each thrust of his fingers. I cry out feeling my whole body seize as he fingers me through my orgasm still sucking and lapping at my nipple harshly through my tanktop. I was so horny for him I couldn’t stop myself the weed egeing me on. I push him back making quick work to unzip his pants and jerk down his clothes as I could free him. I had dreamed of tasting him for so long, I could not wait another moment. 

“Y/n…oh….fuck….sh—ttt…slow…down…”, I devoured him, bobing my head, sucking and hollowing out as if my life depended on it. I aletnereted between licks, sucks, kisses and taking him down my throat. I had never sucked a dick but something in me or maybe it was the weed clicked within me. I had him a shutterin, moaning, seizing mess. I loved every moment of it. I pause on for a moment to catch my breath kiss his lips and take his figures still coated with my cum in to my mouth before I continue to divour his beautiful dick. 

“Y/n, oh,... fuck… your…so hot…your perfect…fucking beautiful like this…” my eyes flicker towards him and I watch the way he takes me in enjoying watching my worship his dick. 

“Fuck… I’m going to cum….slow down….”

“Y/N! Where are you! I swear to God, Tae Hee or whatever the fuck better not be here! You better not have fucked my sister! I’ll fucking kill you!” I froze at the sound of my brothers voice yelling in the house.

“Fuck! We have to get dressed!” I jumped up strainted my hair and nearly flew down the tree house. I scrambled to the lawn chairs and acted like I was watching the stars. I knew my brother would defiantly punch Tae a minum if we were caught, and I’d be ground till I moved out of the house for sure if my parents found out. 

“Tae! Stay in the tree house… just for a bit…”

“Ok” he whispered back to me”

I go into the house and explain to my brother that tae hand fallan asleep and that I had went to get him a pillow. My brother bough the story and was made that we smoked weed. He brought Tae a blanket and told him he could stay the night since he was high in the living room but better not even think of touching his sister. I couldnt help but laugh. The moment was sweet while it lasted. It was a memory I kept with me and dear to my heart for several years locked away in my Nostalgic Teen years. 

In the morning Tae Hyung was gone. A week went by without a text from him nor from I. I was terrified not sure what to do, what to say. His social media was silent other than his girl friend. Looks like they had gotten back together a few days after our tree house play. I was crushed seeing her pictures of them together nearly everyday. Another 7 days went by and still not calls or text messages or visits from him. I was starting to grow angery and bitter. 

Finally, on the third week, days before graduation, he texted me that he would meet to talk. I agree, like a pathetic whipped girl in love. He apologized for what happened in the tree house, and he should not have smoked with me. He felt terrible for taking advantage of the situation and begged for forgiveness. I, of course, forgave him to save my pride and told him I only saw him as a friend anyway and it was good for me to get some experience before we left for college and I trusted him and that it was fine and I was fine. I lied. I was far from fine. I was crushed. He then continued to crush my soul and let me know he had decided to attend NYU and would not be staying in Austin to go to college together as we had always planned. It was the beginning of the end for us. The next 4 years between us were never the same, and our friendship was never recovered, never returned to what it was.

[jujumin-translates]

Sakuya Sakuma | [R] Borrowed Textbook | Memorable Textbook

Sakuya: Waah, how nostalgic.

Citron: What is it, Sakuya?

Sakuya: I was tidying up my desk and I found this English textbook I used in high school.

Citron: Oh, back when Sakuya was in high school! You were always so cutely diligent back then!

Sakuya: Ahaha, really? I mean, I was the type to get my stuff ready the day beforehand…

Sakuya: But one time I did actually end up going to school without this textbook.

Citron: Really? I never knew!

Sakuya: Ah, I must’ve not told you about it, Citron-san. Back then I…

*Flashback*

Homeroom Teacher: Your modern Japanese teacher is taking the day off tomorrow, so you’ll have English then instead.

Students: Understood!

Sakuya: (Got it, there’s a schedule change tomorrow. I’ll have to remember that…)

Homeroom Teacher: Well then, that’s it for homeroom. See you all tomorrow.

*Bell rings*

Sakuya: (Now that I have English tomorrow, I’d better take my textbook home to do my homework…)

Classmate: See you tomorrow, Sakuma.

Sakuya: Yeah, see you tomorrow. Good luck with your club!

Sakuya: (The sooner I get home and get my homework done, the sooner I can practice that script I’ve been reading!)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: Oh man, it’s already that late!? Umm, today’s classes are…

*Door opens*

Masumi: …Sakuya, you’re not ready yet?

Sakuya: Ah, sorry, Masumi-kun! Just putting my books in my backpack…!

*Knock on door and door opens*

Banri: I’m ready to head out. …Damn, that’s not like you to be this flustered in the morning, Sakuya.

Sakuya: I was up late last night practicing on my own, so I ended up going to bed without getting my stuff ready…

Sakuya: I got up early this morning, but I started practicing again and before I knew it, it was already this late.

Banri: Gotcha.

Sakuya: …Alright, I’m ready now. Sorry for making you wait!

Masumi: Took you long enough.

Sakuya: I’m really sorry, guys. But thanks for waiting!

Banri: Aight, let’s go.

· • — ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ — • ·

*Bell rings*

Sakuya: My next class would be modern Japanese but it was changed to English. Umm, notebook and textbook…

Sakuya: H-Huh? I don’t have my English textbook…!

Sakuya: I used it yesterday when I did my homework and must’ve forgotten to put it back in my backpack…!

Classmate: Huh, you forgot your textbook, Sakuma? That’s not like you.

Sakuya: Yeah. I was a little flustered this morning, so I guess I left without it…

Classmate: How about you borrow one from someone in another class? There’s gotta be someone who has one!

Sakuya: Ah, yeah! Thanks, I’ll go ask around!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: (I’ll go ask Banri-kun first! Hopefully he has his English textbook today.)

*Door slides open*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: Um, is Banri-kun here?

Banri’s Classmate: Yeah, he’s here, just a sec. Yo, Settsu! Sakuma wants you!

Banri: Sakuya?

*Footsteps*

Banri: Ain’t even noon yet and you’re already over here? Somethin’ wrong?

Sakuya: Um, do you happen to have your English textbook, Banri-kun? And if you do, can I borrow it…?

Banri: Ah, forgot yours, huh? You were pretty flustered this morning.

Sakuya: Yeah…

Banri: Just a sec. I’ll grab it for ya.

Banri: Here, one English textbook.

Sakuya: Thanks…! Sorry for this, I’ll give it back as soon as I’m finished with it.

Banri: Nah, I ain’t using it today, so you can just give it back at lunch.

Sakuya: Got it, I’ll give it back then.

Banri: No problem.

Banri: Oh, by the way, I usually leave all my shit at school, so if you forget somethin’ again, I can always lend you whatever.

Sakuya: Ahaha, hopefully, I won’t need to borrow something again, but if it ever happens, I’ll be sure to come to you.

Banri: Yeah, I’ve got your back.

Sakuya: Really, thank you so much! Well then, I better get back to class!

*Flashback end*

Sakuya: …And that’s what happened.

Citron: Good thing Banri had all his textbooks~!

Sakuya: I was really thankful to Banri-kun for saving me back then!

Sakuya: So when I gave back his textbook, I also got him a can of coffee and a snack as a thank you.

Citron: Was he happy with it?

Sakuya: Yeah! At first, he said he didn’t need it, but he ended up taking it anyway…!

Sakuya: Ahaha, I was pretty happy to feel like I had gotten to know Banri-kun a little better!

Sakuya: So that’s why that day became one of my most important memories from Hana High!

[upsidedowndreamland]

It’s 1 in the morning and I’m all up in my feelings, so I’m here to rant, I guess. First thing’s first, as of the time of this writing (12:46 AM EST, Saturday, May 20th, 2023) I have one more day until I am seventeen years old. It will have been (if I remember correctly) around a decade since I first got introduced to Kirby. I was seven years old (again, I believe I was but I’m not sure. Could’ve just been around that time) My mom took me to Target. What for? Who knows. But while we were in checkout, I came across Kirby Triple Deluxe on the shelf that was in the checkout aisle. I was disappointed because I couldn’t find a Mario game (don’t even remember what I was looking for) so my mom got me Triple Deluxe.

And it’s been a whirlwind of Kirby ever since.

Listening to tracks from Triple Deluxe… replaying the game… it’s so… bittersweet, almost a decade later. Tracks like Floral Fields, Keychain Collecting, A Forest Hike, and ESPECIALLY Toy Rhythm and Spring Smash Factory all just feel so… bittersweet (I know I’ve already used that word but nothing else can describe it). Kirby canonically embodies childlike innocence and joy. In a way, Kirby himself IS the “good old days” in a literal sense. He’s the embodiment of that concept, which is really neat considering he’s a video game character that generations’ worth of children are going to grow up with, outgrow, produce more generations to introduce to Kirby, then that generation outgrows him, and so on. I don’t really know of any other video game character whose character kinda REVOLVES around being nostalgic. It’s special to me that the one I do know of… is the one I grew up with, so I can properly appreciate it. After all, I didn’t grow up with, say, Sonic, so I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it if he was supposed to embody the “good old days” of my childhood.

But Kirby. Kirby, I appreciate perhaps a bit more than I want to, because appreciating nostalgia hurts. It kinda has to, because nostalgia ITSELF is an innately painful feeling. Those are days you can never get back, never (fully) recreate, because at the end of the day, you’re just not the same person anymore. At thirteen, you will never be eight again. At sixteen, you’ll never be six again, and so on.

I’m not exaggerating when I say I wouldn’t be the person I am today without Kirby. Not to shit on Mario or it’s fans, but that’s what I grew up on until Kirby; and the Mario series (aside from its best game and a game I’m probably more nostalgic for than Triple Deluxe: Galaxy) isn’t exactly known for telling thought-provoking stories. Kirby, on the other hand…

I never really made it past the third world of Triple Deluxe as a kid. Because of that, after seeing the thumbnail of YTSunny’s Triple Deluxe final Boss video… I couldn’t help but click.

And then on I went for literal YEARS, watching every Kirby video I found, reading Kirby Wiki and WiKirby entries (damn near every article each wiki had to offer; from characters to plot synopses to trivia to weapons and items), and watching Kirby top 10 and “evolution of” videos (like the victory dance) until I was practically bleeding Kirby from my ears. I listened to every song I could find, read every variation of each game’s plot synopsis from website to website, spoiled myself on every game (because from my point of view at the time, I was never gonna play GBA Kirby), read fanfiction both crappy and great, and watched Kirby theories by every channel sellin’ em, though especially Meteorz’ What Is Kirby Canon? videos. I would scroll for hours through the 3DS Eshop, upset because I couldn’t find the old Kirby games I learned of and wanted to play thanks to the keychains in Triple Deluxe. I’d usually end up watching hours of trailers for Triple Deluxe and Planet Robobot (before the latter released when I was ten years old) and that’s how I found the Kirby 3D episode, and Right Back At Ya as a result of that, leaving me with yet another (now nostalgic) channel of Kirby to feed off of. I had an endless desire to know and consume MORE. It was like it either created or awoke what was already in my brain.

A love of stories.

I absolutely love stories. I love ancient mythology, urban legends, all of it. It fascinates me. I’ve always had the weird tendency of fixating on something: if I like it enough, I end up knowing everything about it, down to every last meaningless scrap of trivia. The Kirby series and its endless wealth of stories, background info and interconnected lore hooked me and woke up the writer part of my brain, and now that’s what I want to do for a living. I want to write. And it’s all because I fell in love with a dumb little video game series about a pink marshmallow who lives on a star, eats cake, and gets beat up by a penguin. If my writing career ever ends up taking off, I will owe it all to Kirby, who started me down the path of storytelling (yeah, not just reading, TELLING. Twelve-year-old me would literally cram Kirby stories down my stepmom’s throat during car rides, and it’s literally prepared me for how I now share serious, original stories I may do more with professionally some day with her).

Now, I’m about to be seventeen and, to be honest? I’m scared to death. I’m scared to leave behind my childhood, obviously, because it’s (again, quite obviously) all I’ve ever known. Soon, I’m going to be working and stressing and paying bills like any other adult; and living alone, at least for a while. I’m about to enter the real world, and I’ve been increasingly retreating into my childhood memories of Kirby and countless other things recently. And the nostalgia frickin’ hurts, dude. I want to go back so bad. I want to go back to those slow, after-school afternoons I’d play Triple Deluxe in the back office of the tropical smoothie my grandmother worked at. I want to go back to the car rides home with that game, with playing it while waiting for dinner to be done, with my grandfather sitting on the couch next to me watching ancient aliens or the curse of oak island or something.

For now, though, I’ll honor the way Kirby changed my life by pressing on and looking into writing careers; and in the meantime, I’ll pay tribute to my roots by continuing to write for the series I love so much.

Thank you, Kirby. Here’s to another seventeen.

[aliassinvestigations]

KILLGRAVE

The same dream, it was always that dream. Her bedroom was a sensual ambience pulling her into a moment of serenity. Jessica Jones laid next to Faith and lit oak and vanilla incense. This was perfect; a movie and her girlfriend. For the first time since Killgrave, there was a sense of normality. Her cases gave her money and Faith gave her those fulfilling moments of being a real hero.

She turned to look at Faith, the candles lit and filling the room with a warm scent.

"Where did you go my love?" Faith asked, resting her head on Jessica's chest.

Jessica tilted her head to look down into Faith's curious stare. "Nowhere, what are-- oh." Jessica Jones jumped at a loud bang that snapped through her ears, buzzing filled her mind as she looked up to see herself and that Bastard standing at the foot of the bed.

Looking back down, Faith's listless face stared up at her and blood seeping into their blue sheets.

Jessica Jones snapped awake to the screaming of her alarm. Her head buzzed and stomach doing flips from the two bottles of Jack she'd had the night before. Same damn memory, how long until that asshole would stop haunting her? At this rate "till death do you part" wasn't a marriage vow, but a promise that if you stay with someone too long, they'll be burned in your subconscious till you were buried.

She laid on her back and stared at the spinning ceiling. She tried to remember her, the good memories were fading too quickly and being replaced by his poison. Faith jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to purge the remnants of liquor. If only she could purge those memories of Killgrave too. It was never that easy, no matter how much she wished it was.

Jessica sat on the floor and rest her head against the sink. She reached under the sink and pulled out a dusty candle from the back of the cupboard. Oak and Vanilla mixed with dust wafted a nostalgic smell. It became her smell, the last memento that she once existed in this space before that night.

She stood and lit the candle, letting pull her into a memory-- any memory that wasn't with him.

Everything hurt. Her muscles burned and her stomach tumbled and lurched from last night. Her head was split in two, throbbing and pulsing.

A knocking on her front door snapped Jessica’s eyes open. She stood up, gagging from the abrupt movement. She stumbled to her bed and searched for her pants. Another knock, she cursed and looked for her shirt. Screw it. Jessica threw open the door in nothing but a sports bra and blood stained jeans. 

“What?” She said.

“Jessica Jones?”

“You are?” Said Jessica. Her eyes straining from the bright lights in the hallway.

“I’m detective Ben Hargreeves, I was hoping I could speak to you about a recent homicide I’m investigating.” He stepped inside and let Jessica get comfortable at her desk. 

“So, you need a consult or...” Jessica reached under her desk and pulled out a few forms. 

“No nothing like that. I’m here because Patricia Walker is deceased.” He sat down across from her and pulled out a folder with her autopsy reports and other details. He guessed from research she’d want to see all the evidence up front, otherwise shut down and deny it. “We suspect she’d been--”

Her heart seized and breath ripped from her lungs. “Murdered.” Jessica cut him off. Why else come with paperwork? She couldn’t process it, instead she forced herself to treat this like any other case. There was time for tears later, she had a killer to find. 

Jessica reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch on it’s final swigs. “What do you already know about this guy?” First thought, a stalker. Trish was a popular radio and podcast host. She was an advice columnist and all around was in the lime light. Her charisma would put her in the crosshairs of sick freak.

Telling her to not get involved was futile. Ben saw the gears spinning behind her cold gaze. She was already running through a victim pool, “Do you know anyone who’d want to hurt her?” 

Jessica stood up and strode over to the couch to grab her jacket off the armrest. “Lets go find out. You drive.” She knew this song and dance, she wasn’t going to play it. If he wanted to know, then he could take her to Trish’s himself.

Ben drove them to the crime scene, he was going to hear about this later. Jessica was too close to the case. They’d been able to rule her out as a suspect, but, bringing a victim’s family to the crime scene wasn’t a good idea. Jessica would’ve gone anyway, he reasoned, this way he could ensure she’d preserve the crime scene.

The apartment was pristine as they walked in. Markers set up in an otherwise unassuming modern home. When Jessica circled into the kitchen, she froze at the red streaking the sink and countertops. Her stomach clenched and bile stung her throat. They moved her for autopsy, all Jessica could see was the remnants of what transpired. She tore her eyes from the blood spatter on the countertops and walked the house.

“What are you looking for?” Ben said as he followed her down the hall.

Jessica looked at the fortress Trish built in her gym. It doubled as her panic room by the looks of how it was reenforced. Smart move. Jessica tried to get inside Trish’s mind, where would she put her valuables? She felt around the walls, ignoring Ben’s curious stare. A tiny compartment popped out behind the wrack of barbells, Jessica pulled out a small USB drive. Jessica pocketed it and looked around the room for anything else. There wasn’t anything she immediately noticed, but, knowing Trish this room was likely one of many that housed her secrets. Jessica brushed past Ben and continued searching the house for more clues. She found a pocketbook containing only a list of first names and couple of other oddities. Jessica feared Trish was going off the deep end again, trying to drive herself to some 

[ayyy-pee]

Strangers in Love

Chapter 3

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: Dinner with Nanami finally happens.

Genre: Divorce AU

Story Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Divorce, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Arguments, Ex-Husband Nanami Kento

About a week after your run in with Nanami, you’re sitting in a meeting at work jotting down notes as your supervisor droned on about the next company product release. Your phone vibrated and you flipped it over from its facedown position on the long table to see Nanami’s name light up on the screen. 

Nanami Kento: Good afternoon. I hope your day is going well. I never heard back from you about a potential meetup. I don’t want to bother you, so if you’re not comfortable with it, please let me know. I completely understand if you’re not. 

You would reply later. Maybe. Probably not. You were about to lay your phone back down when it vibrated with another message from him. 

Nanami Kento: Although, I cannot say I wouldn’t love the opportunity to see you again. If you are still open to making plans, I’d be happy to take you to lunch or dinner. 

You felt your heart crawl into your throat at his words. During your marriage, Nanami had never been a big texter even when things were good between you two. This Nanami, who was more open and put in the effort to reach out, was… nice, different . You had to admit the nostalgic part of you yearned to see him again. 

Okay, I guess it wouldn’t hurt, you thought even though you didn’t believe it. You would meet Nanami for dinner, pretend you weren't together for a good chunk of your younger years, catch-up like old friends. After that, you would move on with your life and forget about Nanami again.

You put your phone back down until the meeting was wrapped up. Once back in your office, you checked your calendar for availability before texting Nanami back. 

You: Hi Nanami. My day is going well. I hope it’s the same for you. I’m available at 6pm next Friday if that works for you?

It took him all of two minutes to text you back. 

Nanami Kento: Excellent. Would you like me to pick you up? I don’t mind.

You hesitated, the idea of Nanami knowing where you live feeling too intimate for your currently strained relationship - or lack thereof. 

You: Thank you for the offer, but I’ll meet you there. 

Nanami Kento: Okay. I will text you the details later. Have a good rest of your day. See you next week.

Now, on the night of your dinner, you’re pacing around your apartment, phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you attempt to put your earrings on. You’ve gone through about twelve pairs by now and have changed your outfit at least four times. Nothing you put on feels quite right. You settle on a simple strapless form fitting dress and heels. 

“Are you sure you wanna meet up with him?” Satoru asks on the other end of the line. His voice is muffled, no doubt scarfing down some too sweet snack. 

Gojo’s question rang through your mind as you adjusted your dress. No, you were not sure but you were curious to see why Nanami pushed so hard for this. A part of you would be lying if you didn’t say you were feeling excited. Nervous, fucking terrified , but excited nonetheless. At some point in time, you and Nanami shared a friendship and you hoped that made this dinner easier to get through.

“It’s a little late to change my mind, Satoru. I’m damn near out the door already.” 

He hummed. “Do you want me to go? Just for support. You won’t even know I’m there. I’ll like…hide behind a plant or something.”

You snorted. “Yeah, the bright white hair and eyes that practically glow in the dark won’t give you away at all.”

Gojo lets out a loud laugh. “Well, I offered. Let me know how it goes. Call me if you need an excuse to leave. Good luck!” 

You ended the call, giving yourself a once over before grabbing your keys and heading to the train station.

———

You entered the restaurant, eyes immediately landing on Nanami who stood to wave you over. You smiled politely to the hostess as you moved past her and made your way to the table. The restaurant was bustling, full of couples and coworkers out to dinner and you couldn’t help but note the dim lighting adding an almost romantic ambience. It only added to your nerves.

The closer you got to Nanami, the more overwhelmed you became seeing him dressed up in a nice navy suit with your chair pulled out waiting for you. He looked so incredibly handsome and you hated that you thought so.

“You look lovely,” he stated matter of fact, motioning for you to sit down. Still a gentleman when he wants to be. 

“Thank you. You look good too,” you returned the compliment, taking the seat and letting Nanami push your chair in. You let out a shaky breath, goosebumps spreading up your arms and your cheeks heating up as your body reacted to the familiar smell of Nanami’s cologne surrounding you. After all this time, he still had an effect on you with little to no effort made on his part. He took the seat across from you. The soft light from the candle sitting on the table added to the sharpness of his face and you thought he looked so much younger than you remembered - definitely far less tired. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” he spoke softly, “I went ahead and ordered a bottle of merlot for us.”

“Oh,” you replied in surprise, which must have made Nanami’s nerves kick in because he pinched the bridge of his nose and suddenly began rambling.

“I apologize. That was presumptuous of me. I should have asked first beforehand. I don’t even know if you still like merlot. I just thought—“

“Nanami,” you interrupted. “It’s totally fine. Merlot is still my favorite. Thank you.” You offered him a soft smile, hoping to ease his obvious anxiety and your own. He returned the gesture, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. 

The waiter arrived shortly with two glasses and the bottle of merlot Nanami had ordered. He poured for you both before agreeing to give you a few minutes to look over the menu.

“Thank you for coming out tonight.”

“Yeah, of course.” You lied. You almost didn’t come. You brought your glass of wine up to your lips trying to busy yourself as the silence between you two grew.

“I will be honest. This is a little awkward.” Nanami spoke up.

You spit your wine back into your glass as a laugh escaped you. That was an understatement.

“Yeah, just a little bit. I’m sorry. This is so weird. I guess I should ask how you’ve been?” You tried to push past how uncomfortable this was quickly becoming. 

Nanami nodded, hands coming up from his lap to smooth down the tablecloth in front of him and you recognized this as a nervous tick he still had. You remembered Nanami would fidget when uncomfortable, doing anything to keep his hands moving and soothe his nerves. It was comforting to know that that had not changed.

“I’ve been good. Spent some time in Sendai - a few years actually. Very nice place. You should go and see it if you ever get a chance. I just recently moved back and started my new position a few weeks ago.”

“Oh?” You questioned as you opened your menu to browse your options. Chicken sounded good tonight. “Are you still working as a salaryman?”

He shook his head, his nose scrunching at your question as he looked over his own menu. “Absolutely not. I’m a marketing manager now for a major company in Tokyo.”

You hummed, eyes landing on what you wanted to order. “Sounds busy.”

Nanami shut his menu and placed it on the edge of the table before replying, “Actually, it’s the most free I’ve ever felt working. I come and go as I please. I get my weekends off and plenty of vacation time.”

You glanced up to find him staring intensely at you, almost as though he was gauging your reaction.

“That’s nice, Nanami. You deserve a job where you’re able to relax and have some free time to yourself.”

Nanami opened his mouth to speak, but the waiter approached to take your orders, sticking a metaphorical pin in this conversation. Once your orders had been placed and your waiter left the two of you alone, you found it a bit difficult to start the conversation back up. You figured this would be strange, but damn it was downright painful whenever it was silent. Nanami again, was the first to speak up.

“Thank you again for coming. I know it must have taken a lot of thought before agreeing.”

You nodded. He was right. 

“I definitely was not sure I wanted to do this if I’m being completely honest.” It was your turn to fidget now. You smoothed down your already smooth dress in your lap, avoiding Nanami’s gaze. 

He hummed in response before pushing forward. 

“So, tell me what you’ve been up to”, he offers. He’s trying to move the conversation along and you can appreciate that.

“Hmm, well I’m working now as a Senior Project Manager at the moment. It’s a good job, well paying and not stressful. I’ve been taking cooking classes recently. I make a mean rotisserie chicken.” You fill Nanami in on the basic parts of your life as your food arrives. 

Nanami smiles softly as you speak, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight as he sips his wine. His gaze never leaves yours, an indicator that you have his full attention and your heart flutters in your chest because you can’t even deny that you missed this. 

You finally let a comfortable silence fall over you both as you eat, the only sounds being the background noise of the restaurant and your cutlery hitting the plate. The food is delicious and it reminds you all the times you and Nanami used to share meals together, simply enjoying each other’s company. 

Nanami finishes his meal first, his eyes roving over you as he finishes his glass of wine and pours another. He clears his throat before speaking.

“It sounds like life is quite interesting for you”, he begins. You finish your meal, wiping your mouth with a napkin as he continues. “I’m glad you’re doing well for yourself.”

“Likewise”, you offer. The night has gone so well. You aren’t sure what you were worried about, or Gojo for that matter. You chuckle to yourself as you remember his earlier offer. 

“What’s so funny?” Nanami asks, his own smile spreading across his cheeks as he watches your amusement. You shake your head, deciding the night has gone well enough that Nanami may find this funny as well. 

“Just that when I was getting ready to come here, I was on the phone with Satoru”, you somehow missed the tick in Nanami’s jaw at the mention of your friend’s name. “And he could tell I was nervous. He’s so funny…he actually offered to come here and hide behind a plant to spy on us.” You giggle, recalling Gojo’s joke to Nanami.

Nanami gives you a dry chuckle. “Hilarious”, he deadpans.

He’s watching you intensely again. Like he wants to say something, but he’s thinking better of it. You hope he keeps his thoughts to himself, but he doesn’t. 

“Satoru…” he mumbles, testing the name. “You two must be close for you to be using his first name so casually now.”

You don’t particularly like his tone, but you know there’s history between Nanami and Gojo. They weren’t exactly the best of friends in high school, both of them having polar opposite personalities. They just didn’t quite mesh. But that had no bearing on the present. Yes, you were close with Gojo. Over the years, he had become a good friend and nothing more. You don’t know why you feel the need to stress this to Nanami, but you do.

“I mean, yes. We’re close, but—.”

“Are you together? Dating?” He interrupts, which only irritates you. 

“What? No, Satoru and I are just friends, Nanami.”

He scoffs, unable to hide the crease in his brow holding his irritation. “Right. With the way you ogled each other that day at the coffee shop, I’m sure.”

You blink, eyes wide. You’re taken aback from this sudden shift in his mood. Where was this coming from?

“Even if Satoru and I were dating, it’s honestly none of your business. You don’t think it’s a little weird asking me this, Nanami?”

“So it’s Satoru for him, but I’m just Nanami now?” He sighed. 

“What else do you expect me to call you? I haven’t seen you in half a decade. A little weird to call you Ken or Kento now, don’t you think?”

“Even so, I’ve known you longer. We were married once—“

“ And now we’re not .” You hiss, cutting him off. His eyes widen slightly at your tone. You never were one to lose your temper with him, but he was starting to push you. You took a deep breath, making sure to lower your voice. “You have to be kidding me with this petty shit right now.”

The conversation came to a brief pause as the waiter approached to clear your table of your plates and drop off the check. Nanami reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his card, handing it to the waiter without glancing at the paper. His eyes never left yours, the tension is his jaw apparent.

As the waiter left, Nanami cleared his throat to speak, but you cut him off again.

“After everything, you have no right to try and pry into my personal life and then get upset with me based on your own assumptions. You lost that right when you chose not to fight for our marriage and took a nap instead.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Maybe it was the wine talking, or the tension between you both, or the way Nanami was acting like he still had some sort of claim over you, but you weren’t going to back down from him this time.

He’s shocked, his brows stitching together in anger. “Or you could have been an adult that night. Instead of waiting to talk about it when I wasn’t exhausted from working towards our dream, you ran away.”

“It was never our dream, Nanami! It was always yours.” You spit back at him, trying to ignore the angry tears threatening to spill. “ You wanted to move, you saw a future in Malaysia and you let it consume everything around you until you had nothing left. Explain to me how that’s my fault.” Your voice shook with rage, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. This man was so infuriating.

Okay. Clearly, you both had some unresolved feelings. While you felt a weight lifted off your chest, a relief you didn’t know you needed telling him this, you knew one thing - you never wanted to see Kento Nanami again after tonight.

Nanami said nothing and you watched as the muscle in his jaw ticked over and over and over, the growing silence only fueling your irritation. 

“Nothing to say now?” You let out a dry laugh. “So on brand for you honestly. I don’t know why I expected you could have an actual conversation about the hard stuff instead of dismissing it.”

You stood from your chair, grabbing your belongings. “Thank you for dinner, Nanami”, you muttered, not meeting his eyes. “Please don’t contact me again.”

You scurried past him and to the elevators, not bothering to wipe the tears now falling. You pressed the button to go down, wishing the elevator doors to open so you could leave as quickly as possible. You chanced a glance back at Nanami only to see his chair empty. Maybe he took the stairs. The elevator doors opened and you stepped inside, pressing the lobby button. 

This was not how you wanted the night to end. Nanami had never been a jealous person in all the time you had known him, but you calling Gojo by his first name was what set him off? You couldn’t wrap your head around it. And what he said to you…

You shook the memories from your head as you leaned back against the wall, letting out a deep sigh as the doors started shutting. Finally, you could run away from here and never look back, never see Nanami again and fully move on with your life. A large hand flew between the doors and your stomach sank, watching as the doors reopened and Nanami stepped into the elevator. Unfortunately for you, the doors closed and left you two alone.

Nanami wasted no time, turning to face you, stopping when he sees your tear stained cheeks. He takes a step towards you and reaches a hand forward. You know you should move, step out of his reach, but you don’t. You let Nanami brush his fingers across your cheek before his hand cups the back of your head and pulls you forward into an embrace.

Your face is buried in his chest, your senses completely overwhelmed with only him. Nanami runs his fingers through your hair and the dam breaks. Your hands fly up to grab on to his jacket, balling the material up in your fists and you sob into him. Your tears soak through his shirt, but you don’t care. The weight of tonight - of seeing Nanami, being reminded of why you left, of your argument - it all comes crashing down on you and you can’t help but to cry into him. 

His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry”, he breathes into your hair. You didn’t expect this. You fully expected Nanami to let you leave and do what he did originally - leave you alone. You lean back slightly to look up at him, finally calming yourself down. He looks genuinely remorseful, his own eyes appearing to be holding back their own tears. You hadn’t seen this side of Nanami in so long. You felt your cheeks heat up, no doubt darkening as you both stared intensely into each other’s eyes.

His hands slide up to hold your face and you find yourself holding your breath, your own hands coming up to gently hold his wrists. Your heart is pounding so hard, you wonder if Nanami can hear it. He leans forward and you think he’s going to kiss you, your head automatically tilting up to meet him. But he doesn’t. He runs the tip of his nose up and down the bridge of yours over and over, letting out a shaky breath before he presses his forehead to yours.

“I’m a jealous man and I know I have no right to be. But I can’t stand before you and lie. I acted out. I’m so sorry. Don’t hate me.”

The hold you have on his wrists tighten as you move your nose against his - a small act of intimacy you both indulged in ages ago that you had honestly forgotten about, though your body seemed to remember on its own.

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me”, He begs. And for a moment, you wonder if he’s apologizing for more than just tonight. “I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t shut me out again. I can’t lose you again. I’m sorry. ”

You inhale shakily. How could you say no to him when he had been trying so hard all night? And though the night went left, a part of you didn’t want to lose Nanami again either.

“Okay”, you whisper.

You’re both standing in the elevator, noses kissing repeatedly until the sound of someone clearing their throat breaks through the silence. You jump apart, quickly realizing you were in the lobby and had an audience waiting to get in. You both apologized profusely before stepping out together.

Nanami checks his watch before turning to you. “Can I- uh give you a ride home? It’s pretty late.”

You nod, accepting that you don’t want to go your separate ways just yet.

———

The ride to your apartment is quiet, but this time it’s a comfortable silence. You can feel Nanami sneaking peeks at you, maybe wanting to speak up but ultimately deciding against it lest he put his foot in his mouth again. You don’t hold it against him. You’re happy to sit in this pocket of peace with him for the time being.

As you pull up, you feel your heartbeat pick up again knowing the end of the night is upon you. Nanami parks the car and turns it off before he gets out and moves to your side to open the door for you. You climb out and give him a gracious smile, moving past him to walk to your door. He follows you, eyes scanning your surroundings.

You reach your door and unlock it. You turn back to Nanami, whose eyes are glued to you. You take in his features. That blonde hair you once loved running your fingers through, those sharp cheekbones you once loved to kiss, those big hands he used to hold you with and you admit to yourself that you miss him. You’ve missed him for so long you can’t remember a time when you didn’t. You missing him was the entire reason you left. You missing him was the reason you couldn’t seem to tell him goodnight and go into your apartment.

Nanami smiles down at you. “Thank you again for having dinner with me. I know the night ended on a sour note and I can’t apologize enough.” He leans down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, wishing you goodnight after.

He turns to leave and like a reflex, your hand shoots out to grab his arm. He spins around, giving you a quizzical look. You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know why you’re doing it. You only know that you miss him . So before you can change your mind, you open the door to your apartment and whisper, “Stay”.

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I��ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

-

taglist

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!

@mariamuses​ @pastequeharry​ @f-vasquezp​ @jgtfvhsg​ @trulymadlykiki​ @bookwormandtea​ @sltwins​

[fuegofierce]

Jada finding out more about Wildmoore

Part 2 of 2

*Jada with Wildmoore in a fancy restaurant *

Jada: So the taco story is true?

Sophie: Yeah. It just wasn’t our first meeting. It was actually one of our girls night out that took a turn

Ryan: A very drunkenly turn…

Flashback

*scene changes to the loft*

Mary: Okay…I say we go out tonight. Have a ladies night. Luke is doing the surveillance and we haven’t had a time to just have fun. What do you say?

Ryan: Fine but if the bat signal go off or I hear something, it’s back to work. Deal?

Mary: Deal.

Ryan: *smiles* alright let’s have fun!

Mary: Yes! Oh by the way I already invited Sophie

Ryan: wait what?

*scene changes to the hold up. Everyone is partying and drinking *

Mary: Okay! Next shot!

*Mary, Ryan, and Sophie drink*

Sophie: I haven’t had this much fun and forever

Ryan: I didn’t know crows could have fun

Sophie: Former crow and yes I can have fun *smirks at Ryan*

Ryan: *lifts eyebrow* okay Sophie, let’s see how much fun you can have.

*montage of the ladies enjoying drinking games and karaoke then finally resting at the bar*

Ryan: *laughing and smiling * the bird can hold a lil note.

Sophie: A little note? I was amazing, Diana Ross would be proud at the way I sung her song

Ryan: *laughs* okay I will give credit where credit is due

*Mary looks up from her phone excitedly*

Mary: Hot bakery guy just pulled up. I will see you too later. The party for me has gone to a different location. *starts leaving*

Ryan: Whew! You go girl!

Sophie: Get’em Mary!

*Mary exits*

Sophie: I guess that’s my cue to leave

Ryan: What? Don’t be ridiculous. The bar is still open and we have songs to sing. I think them ladies in that booth have it out for us and I say we take them down. *extends her hand for a handshake and gives her charming smile*

Sophie: *rolls eyes and smile* I can oddly never say no to you

Ryan: Good *winks*

*They drink, sing, and talk until the bar starts to close*

Ryan: Damn! *looks at watch* We been here all night

Sophie: Yeah we have

Ryan: *eats a chip and starts to choke*

* Sophie hands Ryan a glass of water, they hands touch. They both get flustered*

Sophie: Looks like I saved your life again Ryan Wilder…I think you should start paying me. It’s becoming a habit.

Ryan: *rolls her eyes* One kryptonite bullet almost takes me out and you think your my personal Superwoman. Bye *chuckles*

Sophie: Your personal Superwoman? I like that. *takes out phone to record* I just want to mark this amazing Taco Tuesday as the day Ryan Wilder names me her Personal Superwoman. Ladies and Ladies, I have upgraded in the book of Wilder *laughs* and now I send to you for your memories

Ryan: You are crazy

*Ryan phones light up and it says from “Crowphie”, Sophie notices*

Sophie: Hold up!

Ryan: What?

Sophie: *takes Ryan’s phone* I’m still in here as Crowphie. I thought we have leveled up in this relationship

Ryan: *struggling to get phone back* We have *laughs* I just never changed your name. It feels nostalgic.

Sophie: Nope *changes her name in Ryan’s phone* there, that’s better

*she hands phone to Ryan and it reads “Sophie Moore”, Ryan laughs *

Ryan: Sophie Moore?

Sophie: That’s my name *drops voice and looks Ryan directly in her eyes* Don’t wear it out *winks and starts to get up *

*Ryan blushes *

Sophie: I should get going Wilder

Ryan: *grabs Sophie’s wrist* What’s my name in your phone?

Sophie: *whispers in Ryan ear* Nunya damn business *laughs*

Ryan: oh it’s like that. Must be something kinky *wiggles eyebrows *

Sophie: You wish Wilder *smiles*

Ryan: You want a cool way to go home?

Sophie: *confused* huh?

*Ryan and Sophie grapple to Sophie’s apartment and they land on the balcony against the wall together. They look into each other’s eyes and their breaths obviously hitch. They start to lean in when Sophie breaks the silence*

Sophie: I had fun tonight Ryan

Ryan: *backing off Sophie* So did I Soph *smiles wildly *

Sophie: You still giving me a nickname

Ryan: At least it beats Crowphie *smirks* we should do this again…just the two of us.

Sophie: The two of us?

Ryan: We are friends right?

Sophie: Of course. I would love that.

Ryan: Good. Have a good night Soph

Sophie: *kisses Ryan on the cheek* You too Wilder *enters through her balcony*

Ryan: *gives that dumb smile she gave in the woods*

Present

Sophie: I can’t believe you remember all that night. Half of it was a blur to me *laughs*

Ryan: Of course I remember. That was the night I realized I liked you Sophie Moore. The day you became My Soph *gives Sophie the “Sophie Smile”*

Sophie: You never told me that

Jada: So sweet. But I got to ask…what was Ryan name in your phone?

Ryan: Yeah! What was it Sophie Moore?

Sophie: Wilder with a heart emoji

Ryan: Damn…you on me bad *gives Sophie a soft kiss*

*they all laugh*

The end! Hope you enjoyed 😁

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The First Year

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapters will have additional warning when necessary.

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

//////////////////////////////////

Part I - The First Year

Hogwarts will be fun was the first thought you had when you opened the letter in your hands.

Tony, your older brother, ruffled your hair slightly as he came down into the kitchen and watched you open the mail.

"Your letter finally arrived, huh, little witch?" He joked with a smile as he sat down at the table. 

"I can't wait to go!" You commented excitedly rereading the acceptance letter for the third time.

"Miss, after coffee, can we go to diagonal alley if you like?" Jarvis, your butler, asked you politely as he poured Tony's coffee making you hesitate slightly. Tony, who had his eye on you, forced a smile as he patted you on the arm.

"I'll go with you, don't worry." He assured and you nodded.

"I wish dad would come." You grumble as you sit down and Tony sighs.

" Yeah, me too." He says. "But you know he's busy, and we can't leave it to the last minute."

You mumble in agreement as you serve some sweetbreads on your plate.

Eating in silence for a few moments, you are startled slightly when Tony lets out an exclamation.

"Damn, I forgot to write back to Steve." He announces getting up and walking over to the next shelf where there were some stationery and pen.

"Your boyfriend will be upset." You tease lightly, and Tony mumbles softly without responding.

When he finishes writing the letter, he goes to the kitchen window and opens the metal, whistling loudly in a familiar rhythm. A few seconds later, Iron, his barn owl lands in front of him. Tony stroked the animal gently before dangling the letter in his paws.

" Please take this to Steve, Iron." He ordered and the animal made a noise before flying away again.

"Jarvis, I'll get ready to go." You tell the man as soon as you finish eating and head off toward the stairs.

//-//

Diagonal Alley is a noisy place.

Tony asked you to walk beside him, but you stopped walking at the first Quidditch shop you spotted, and he had to turn back halfway when he noticed you were no longer beside him.

"Don't do that." He warned, mildly annoyed, but you glazed over at the exposed broom in front of you, and he let out a chuckle when he noticed. "Come on, Y/N, you already have a broom."

"But that's no ordinary broom." You retorted with an impressed look. "It's a Nimbus 2000, it's the fastest broom there is."

"You have the 99, I don't understand the difference." He retorted with his hands in his pockets and you shrugged.

"Tony, can we buy it?" You asked pleadingly, making your brother laugh slightly.

"Let's buy your stuff first please" He retorted with a smile and you grumbled but accepted the arm he offered for you to hang on. Jarvis walked behind you with a keen eye on your surroundings.

After you had bought the vast majority of your supplies and replenished your stocks of potions items for Tony, Jarvis took you to Blossoms and Blurbs to buy this year's books.

"Good morning! Hogwarts, third and first year books, please." You heard Jarvis tell the clerk who approached you three. Tony nodded his head signaling you to feel free to walk around the bookstore in the meantime, and that is exactly what you did.

You found many interesting books in the place as you walked among the shelves. One in particular caught your attention, as there seemed to be little miniature magical creatures trying to jump out of the cover, and you grabbed it on a table, watching the item carefully.

You smiled when an ink dragon jumped into your hand, moving your head as if you were looking around. Distracted by the book, you let out a low exclamation when someone bumped into you.

"Sorry, kid." You heard a female voice speak in a humorous tone. It is a girl taller than you, short red hair. "I ended up tripping over some of those runner books."

"It's okay." You said with a smile. The girl looked at the one book in your hands for a moment.

"Do you enjoy creature tracts?" She asks casually as she reaches for a book on the bookshelf beside her.

"I don't know yet." You say and she looks at you slightly confused, "I never studied."

"Ah, first-year." She understands and you nod in agreement. "Hogwarts too or some other?"

"Hogwarts." 

"Cool, I guess I'll see you there then." She says. "I'm from Slytherin, third year."

You let out a surprised exclamation.

"Maybe you know my brother." You say and the girl takes her gaze from the books in her hand she was checking to look at you with her eyebrow raised in curiosity. "His name is Tony Stark, he's also from your house."

The girl lets out a short laugh.

"I can't believe you are Stark's sister." She says. "We're not exactly friends, but I've seen him around the dorm several times. And your brother is a pain in the ass, by the way."

You laugh lightly, agreeing.

"I am Natasha Romanoff." She introduces herself next, balancing her books in one hand to greet you. You introduce yourself with a gentle smile. "Good luck with your books." She says before turning away.

You think it's cool that you already know someone besides your brother before you start at Hogwarts.

//-//

Buying your wand is a rather strange experience.

Mr. Ollivander has a glint in his eye as if he knows everyone's secrets, and seems to disappear and reappear in his store very easily.

Tony sat on one of the stools while he waited for you, and Jarvis went to buy something for you two to eat.

After trying almost five wands, and exploding a glass vase when he tried the last one, Mr. Ollivander sighed.

"Sorry, I don't know why it's not working." You asked feeling nervous, but he smiled.

"Don't worry, dear." He said. "Difficult customers are so much fun." 

He walked back in between the shelves after that, and then reappeared with three new packages.

"I remember when Howard Stark bought his wand." He told smiling nostalgically as you opened one of the packages, a black wand in front of you. "Phoenix, Cedar, slightly flexible."

"Dad has changed wands thousands of times." Added Tony wryly, but Mr. Ollivander didn't seem to mind.

The wand you tested let out a faint spark when you tried to cast a simple conjuration spell, and the man in front of you was quick to take it from your hand the next second.

"I think I have a better idea." He announced turning around, and then climbed the ladder supported by the wall, picking up a package at the top.

"Try this one dear." He asked handing you a dark wand, the wood was shiny, a color you didn't know exactly what it was, but it was beautiful. 

When you grabbed the item, you felt a tingling sensation spread throughout your hand, and the wand vibrated slightly for a few seconds, causing Ollivander to let out a noise of excitement.

"You see, I knew I would find an owner for you dear." He spoke and you realized that he was speaking with the item in your hands. Soon he turned his gaze back to you. "Take good care of this one, will you, it was quite difficult to get dark elf blood for the core."

"R-right." You said with a slight frown, not quite sure what to make of that information.

Tony laughed lightly at the interaction, he should be used to Mr. Ollivander's eccentric manner by now, since he kept breaking his wands just like your father and often returned to the store to get a new one.

After paying, you and Tony met Jarvis outside, he was carrying some sweet rolls.

//-//

July ended too quickly for your happiness. You were very eager to go to school.

You spent most of August at home, playing quidditch with Tony in the backyard, curiously reading the magic books you bought, and trying to peek into the basement where your father worked, but he always caught you looking and smiled, asking you to go back to your room.

You would like your father to take you to the station, but he said he had a magic conference in September, and would be traveling for the next few weeks. Tony was upset, but he put his arm around your shoulders and asked you to hurry to get your bags.

When you finally got to the station, you were slightly nervous about going through a wall, but Tony laughed, and showed you how to go first.

You hugged Jarvis good-bye before following your brother along the way.

Tony dragged you across the train cars to the first empty cabin he could find. He commented that it would be nice if you made your own friends, but that he would like you to sit with him.

So here you were, sitting with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, Tony's best friends since the first year. The boys smiled encouragingly at you. You already knew them, because Tony kept inviting them to spend holidays with him all the time.

"Hey, Y/N, how was your vacation?" Steve asked as soon as you sat down next to him. You shrugged, saying that it was nice, but that you were looking forward to attending Hogwarts.

Soon the boys started talking about what they were excited about next year, and you did your best to keep up, not knowing exactly who the people they mentioned were, or knowing the classes they talked about.

Many minutes after the train was moving, a girl opened the cabin door.

"Hey, strangers." She greeted with a smile. 

"Hi Peggy." Steve said with a smile, you frowned at the slight scowl on your brother's face.

"They're calling for us in the prefects compartment, Steve." She warned and Steve nodded, getting up. He and the girl then left, and Tony crossed his arms.

"What's wrong?" You asked noticing his posture and the way Bucky had a little smile on his face.

"It's nothing." Grumbled your brother, and as he turned his face to the window, Bucky who was standing in front of you, whispered to you.

"Tony thinks Peggy likes Steve." He recounted. "So he doesn't like Peggy very much."

"Oh." You said, pretending to understand the whole plot. It didn't make much sense to you because everyone couldn't be friends, but you figured that when you were your brother's age you would understand better.

//-//

The Hogwarts Express only stopped at night.

Properly uniformed, you smiled when your brother patted you on the shoulder, telling you that he would meet you at the castle, since the first-year students had to go by boat.

Your hands were sweating a little as you walked up to the extraordinarily tall man who introduced himself as Drax.

"First-year students, please, six in each boat." He shouted to the crowd, and the students moved closer together.

You sat in one of the first little boats, five other children you didn't know surrounding you.

"I'm so excited." A blonde girl commented cheerfully, waving her hands. She smiled at everyone as she introduced herself as "Harley Quinn". 

"I bet you''ll blow something up once we get there, Harley" Added a redheaded girl sitting next to you, you could tell by her tone that they were probably friends. The blonde, Harley, laughed.

"Shut up, Ivy." She said, and then Drax was back, climbing into one of the boats beside her. He checked the boats one last time, then waved his hand, and the transports began to move.

Everyone, including you, let out a chorus of excitement.

When you noticed the castle, you smiled. It was huge, and just as amazing as Tony used to tell you. 

"Wow, it must be amazing to fly over all that." You quietly observed, and the girl next to you turned her head in your direction, smiling.

"Do you like flying?" She asked, and you nodded. She looked at you for a moment and then held out her hand to greet you. "I am Diana. Diana Prince."

"Hi, Diana." You said introducing yourself next. "Do you also like to fly?"

"I love it." She says. "I hope i can make it onto the team."

"I don't know if the first-years have any chance, but I'll be rooting for you." You assure, and Diana smiles.

When the boats stop in the harbor, the students are all excited to get out and see the castle, but Drax's almost intimidating posture makes everyone properly behaved.

He leads the crowd to the staircase, and then there is a lobby. There is a woman waiting for everyone, her strict posture makes you think she is someone you wouldn't want to upset.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." She announces. "I am Professor Okoye, head of Gryffindor house."

The students exchange burbles next, but the teacher's gaze shuts them up almost immediately.

"As long as you are here, your houses will be like your families." She continues. "Your triumphs will earn you points, and if you break any rules, those points will be taken away." 

She says, casting a disapproving glance at one of the students in the corner, who giggled. "In a few moments we will begin the sorting hat ceremony."

The teacher then turns around, heading toward a large bronze door, and talking to someone on the other side. You hear someone laughing near you, and you turn your head to the side in curiosity.

It was a blond boy, and he seemed to be enjoying himself as he balanced one of the gold cups he picked up from the surrounding shelves. You thought he would be in trouble if he knocked it over, and this seemed to be exactly the same opinion as the girl next to him, who was looking at him disapprovingly.

"Stop being an idiot, Peter, put that back." She complained and he laughed, shrugging.

"Gamora, you're a spoilsport you know." He retorted and when he put the cup back, it spun and fell to the floor, breaking into several pieces. The boy turned pale as Teacher Okoye turned her head in his direction.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to them.

"Reparo" You said drawing your wand as you pointed at the broken object. Some children let out impressed exclamations when they saw the bowl form again, but you just put your wand away in shame. It was no big deal. Okoye caught up with the three of you next, looking reproachfully at the boy.

"I expect better behavior during the ceremony, sir..."

"Quill"

"Mister Quill." She completed and took one last look at the boy that had with his head down before turning back to the front of the crowd again, waving for the students to follow her.

"Hey, that was pretty cool." Peter commented beside you as you walked. You shrugged, focusing on the path.

//-//

The sorting hat was something exceptional.

Tony never told you how the choice was made, and you knew it was only to annoy you. He had sometimes joked that the students faced each other in a duel, and even though you told him to shut up, you had a look at his spell book before you came.

The actual ceremony was much simpler, however.

When it was your turn to climb onto the small stool, you bit your lips, hoping that everything would go smoothly. Just as the old cloth of the hat fell over your eyes, blocking your view of the rest of the hall, you heard a voice in your head.

" Hello, dear, no need to be so nervous." Announced the hat gently. "You are a curious little thing, I see."

"Is that a good thing?" You thought, and the hat chuckled lightly.

"It might be." He said mysteriously. "Interesting what I see here. Very interesting."

"What are you seeing?"

"Your memories, dear."

"Oh." You thought, feeling slightly embarrassed. That seemed like an intrusion of your privacy. The hat laughed again, and you remembered that he was on your head.

"You're hard to sort out." He says, and you squeeze the stool. "Don't worry, I'm not going to send you home, that's not how it works."

"Oh, right."

Hat was silent a few moments. 

"I see courage in your heart." He says and you try to remember the characteristics of the houses. "But that courage is well forged with your loyalty."

You swallow dryly, feeling your anxiety rising. This was definitely taking much longer than the people who went before you.

"You are as smart as your father and brother, both members of the Slytherin house." He says.  "There's a willingness not to let them down."

"That's personal." You grumble feeling your cheeks flush, but the hat doesn't care to apologize for bringing up your insecurities.

"Ah, this is interesting here. A pure kindness, yet pruned in your origins of shallow paternal affection”.

You frown, not understanding what he is saying.

"You are quite adaptable child, it has always been one of your best virtues." The hat remarks, and you get the impression that the next part is only said for you. "Tell me, where would you like to stay?"

"Isn't that your job?" You retort in thought, and hear him laugh again. You rush to correct yourself, not wanting to be rude. "Sorry, hat. I don't really know. I'd like to stay where I fit in best."

"You would do well anywhere." He retorts, and you frown. "And that's pretty impressive, you know. I haven't met another hatstall since the last century."

You swallow dryly, not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I'll work hard, sir." You tell him. "I don't want people to think I'm a special witch just because of my family. That's something I'm sure, I don't know if it helps you choose."

Hat lets out a sigh of relief.

"Actually, that's exactly what I needed."

It takes a moment for him to speak again, and when he does, you feel your whole body shake.

"Hufflepuff"

//-//

Steve Rogers is the head boy of Hufflepuff and he celebrates excitedly when you sit down at the table next to him.

"That's so cool" He comments. "I'll be able to tease Tony all year about it."

After that, director Agatha Harkness, made the announcement of the beginning of the year. If her goal was to scare the students, she succeeded when she talked about the deadly dangers surrounding the forbidden forest and the punishments for the disobedient. Professor Strange interrupted her speech as he cleared his throat, awkwardly waving for Agatha to stop saying such things, and the woman giggled. 

Dinner is delicious, and then you are following the crowd of students into the communal rooms. 

"Butterbeer" Steve said to the portrait on the wall, and you blinked in surprise when the painting moved to the side, a door behind.

You sighed when you realized how cozy the Hufflepuff's common room was.

"Everyone please come in." Asked Steve in the center of the room, waving to the students who stayed behind. When everyone was around him, he smiled. "The dorms are divided by gender, but you can sleep wherever you feel most comfortable. I will only suggest that none of you try to sleep with the seventh graders, because they are scary." Steve joked making the crowd laugh lightly. "We have a supply of food in those lockers, just in case you feel like having a snack in the early morning, outside of the permitted hours for walking around the castle." He continues and stands thoughtfully for a few moments. "Most of the things you need to know are on the bulletin board on that wall, and you can also ask me anything you want. Your belongings have already been taken to the free beds, but if you want any help, you can organize among yourselves or just come talk to me."

Steve smiled as the crowd moved. You headed in the direction where he said the rooms were.

//-//

You let out a surprised exclamation as something landed on your head.

"Damn, sorry!" Asked an asian girl approaching you, and pulling the small being out of your hair as you entered the room. "Groot, I told you to behave yourself."

"I am groot." Grumbled the little creature. You looked at it wide-eyed, impressed.

"Wow, is that a tree?"

The girl laughed, putting the small creature sitting on her shoulder, sitting on the bed next to the one you identified as having your things.

"Yes and no." She said. "I found Groot in my garden over the vacations, and well, I don't know what he is exactly. But I think he was trying to make my mother's plants grow."

"He's really cute." You commented approaching with your finger extended. Groot smiled, accepting your touch.

"I am Mantis." Says the girl next and you smile at her as you introduce yourself. "We're going to be roommates."

"Yes, and so is Groot." You add as you take off your cape to throw on the bed that would be yours.

After eating so well at dinner, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. 

You dream of glowing green eyes and a red light, but you don't recognize them or understand what it means, and when you wake up, you no longer remember.

//-//

Two weeks since you started at Hogwarts, you are used to how eccentric everything can be.

The classes weren't as difficult as you imagined, but that's probably because you've had contact with magic all your life and always had an easy time learning things. All the teachers were unique in their own way. 

Professor Rocket, for example, taught Transfiguration and spent almost the entire period transfigured into a raccoon, even outside of class hours. He was temperamental and got irritated very easily when students talked too much in his class, so it was not recommended to do so.

There was also Professor Fury, who had an eye patch as a mandatory piece in his daily costume, and all the students spent more time trying to guess how this happened, than listening to his explanations of defense spells against the dark art.

Your astronomy class on Wednesdays was taught by Professor Odin, who like to claim that he was a descendant of the Olympian gods, but no one believed him. He was also the father of two of your classmates, Thor and Loki Odinson, who were the exact opposite of each other. While Thor was warm and friendly, Loki was cold and reclusive, plus the former was from Gryffindor and the other from Slytherin. Surprisingly, you liked them both. 

You ended up meeting the head of your house only on the second day.  

Professor Heimdall taught Divination, so you wouldn't have any classes with him until the third year.You bumped into him when you were late for fifth period and had to run to the common room for your Potions books, and almost fell on the floor when you turned the corner without looking and the professor was there.  He prevented you from falling with a wave of his wand, smiling gently. 

" Forgive me." You said clumsily, feeling slightly intimidated by the yellow irises as the magic set you on your feet properly, as well as catching your books in the air and placing them in your hands again. 

"Be careful with the castle corridors, Miss Stark." Said the man, and for some reason, you thought he wasn't just talking about this little incident.

"Professor Heimdall, let's talk in a private place, please."  Asked Professor Okoye, who was standing at his side, she looked at you with a certain disapproval, and you couldn't tell whether it was because of your intrusion, or the fact that your tie was hanging loosely around your neck, in addition to the open buttons on your shirt.

After this little incident, you asked Steve who Professor Heimdall was, and he explained that he was the head of Hufflepuff, and might seem intimidating at first glance, but that he was very kind.

But so far, the professor who has intrigued you the most was Professor Erik Lehnsherr, who taught Potions. He didn't say anything that wasn't related to the subject, didn't make any comments about behavior or events at school. And he had such a stern and mysterious look in his eyes that no student had the courage to ask him anything. You heard Peter Quill make a bet with Thor Odinson that Professor Erik was unable to smile because of some particular sorcery, but you thought it best not to laugh, especially since Mr. Lehnsherr was looking at your direction.

When you had your first Potions period with Slytherin, after herbology professor T'Challa needed to reschedule classes for an appointment, you were surprised to discover that professor Lehnsherr had children.

Gamora ended up on the same bench as you, and she was talking to her sister, Nebula, about an incident that occurred in their dormitory.

"Clearly, the professors' children have an easy time getting away with punishment." Nebula bitterly remarked, and you frowned in confusion. 

"I don't think it was the girl's fault." Gamora retorted as she put the ingredients into her cauldron. She looked at you quickly, realizing that you were listening to the conversation, but she didn't scold you, she just kept stirring the mixture.

"What happened?" you asked next, and Nebula looked at you with mild irritation. She seemed about to tell you to mind your own business, but Gamora smiled, moving closer to whisper to you.

"A girl lost her temper in the Slytherin dorm bathrooms last night." She told. "She's a second year, her name is Wanda Maximoff. She and her brother are Professor Lehnsherr's kids, and everyone is saying that she didn't go to detention because of it."

Your jaw dropped, impressed. 

"I can't believe Magneto has children." You said making Gamora and Nebula laugh at the nickname. Last week you found out that the school had been calling Erik that since he stopped the hall chandelier from falling on the teachers' desk two years ago when he used non-verbal magic to attract the metal, and everyone started calling him that behind his back. Tony told you and you liked the story.

"I know right, he seems so self-contained." Gamora remarked looking back briefly. Professor Erik was focused on his own potions book.

"That noisy kid from Gryffindor said he's married." Nebula added next and Gamora laughed lightly.

"Peter Quill?"

"Yes."

"Wow, that's surprising." Says the girl. You both return to stirring your cauldrons in silence after that little conversation.

When you have finished your mixing, Professor Erik gives Hufflepuff five points for your good work, and you smile with red cheeks.

"You're nice." Nebula suddenly said beside you as you were leaving the room. Gamora stood next to her. "Do you want to walk around with us?"

"We're already walking." You joked and Gamora laughed unlike her sister who grimaced.

"Yep, definitely cool." She added. "Do you want to have lunch with us?"

"At your table or mine?"

Gamora and Nebula exchanged glances.

"I'm not sitting with Hufflepuff." Nebula declared and you sighed, rolling your eyes.

"You know I'm from Hufflepuff, right?"

"I'm reconsidering the invitation." She retorted and you frowned, but Gamora smiled at you.

"Will you sit with us, please?"

You sighed, nodding in agreement. You could talk to Tony after all.

//-//

Lunch at the Slytherin table became an everyday thing after that day. It took two weeks for Mantis to start joining you, and then you realized that you had a small group of friends now.

At Christmas, neither you nor Tony came home, because your father was working and you didn't want to be alone in the Stark mansion. You ended up turning down Tony's invitation to spend Christmas with Steve Rogers and his family, because you weren't really friends with Steve. Tony insisted, not wanting you to be alone, but you assured him that you would be fine in the company of your friends, and that he needn't worry.

On Christmas morning, Groot woke you up by jumping on your face. You laughed lightly because he was so small that he was like a tickle, and stood up as you returned the little creature to Mantis' bedside table.

A few hours later, as you were opening your presents at the Slytherin table along with Gamora, Nebula, Mantis, and Peter Quill, who had also stayed at Hogwarts for the end of the year, you let out an excited exclamation.

"I can' believe it." You spoke, opening the package in front of you. It was a large box, it was bewitched and only revealed the actual wrapping once you tore the paper off. It was actually a broom.

"Wow, that's cool." Peter remarked as he looked at your present. 

That's how you ended up in the middle of the snow, testing your new broom while your friends cheered and celebrated below you.

"Are you sure you can fly?" You asked Peter as soon as he asked you if he could ride. He shrugged, smiling.

You and the girls watched as he controlled the broom for a few feet above the ground, and then he overspeeded it and sped away.

You all ran into his direction, while the broom seemed almost annoyed at his lack of control, and knocked him into a tree. Peter fell between the branches, onto someone who was resting under it.

When you all reached him, you frowned when there was a boy pushing Quill.

"Watch it, dude!" Warned the boy, but before you could say anything, Gamora was already stepping forward, wand in hand.

"It was just an accident." She said and the boy looked at her surprised with her wand outstretched. He crossed his arms however, not looking scared.

"Oh, you're going to spell me now, are you?" He teased.

"Piss off, Maximoff." Warned Nebula next, taking a step beside her sister. So this was Pietro Maximoff. You figured that confidence should come from being the son of one of the professors.

"I suggest you leave my brother alone." Warned a voice behind you. You turned next, only to catch sight of a girl with brown hair, green eyes that glittered with anger. 

Gamora clenched her jaw, and Nebula drew her own wand toward the girl, who also had her wand in her hands.

You sighed, raising your hands as you stood in the line of fire.

"Would everyone please calm down?" You asked. "It was just a misunderstanding, and the broom is mine anyway, no need to fight about it."

It takes a moment, but Gamora puts down her wand, and everyone follows her after that. She has an insinuating smile on her face.

"You really are a Hufflepuff, aren't you Stark?" She teases, and you laugh sheepishly, putting your hands in your pockets.  "Come on Quill." 

Gamora warns and the boy shoots Pietro an ugly look as he leaves. You accept your broom that he hands to you, and turn around, your gaze meeting that of the girl who is supposed to be Wanda Maximoff for a moment. You feel your face heat up at the intensity of the angry look, and you look away, following your friends.

//-//

The months went by quickly as the rest of the school year passed. You managed to do very well on the exams, and didn't get involved in any near-fights again.

When the year ended and the Hufflepuff didn't win the House Cup, you thought you should have been more upset, but you didn't mind having Gamora and Nebula celebrating beside you, laughing and hugging you excitedly.

You also didn't understand why you felt your stomach turn when you caught Wanda Maximoff smiling amidst the Slytherin celebration when you looked around.

[bubblyhoney]

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

-

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think