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the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a measly encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize—nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”

“Of course.”

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @vikiii07 @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles series

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 11 hours

Text

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Content warnings for this chapter: weapons, ptsd references, implied violence

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55445686/chapters/140852350

Chapter 5 - Kaz

“It can’t be a coincidence,”

Kaz mused over Nina’s words for a moment, the cogs in his mind turning slowly to put the pieces together. It definitely didn’t feel like a coincidence. But Kaz tended to follow a strict practice of believing nothing was a coincidence. He’d told Inej that once, and she’d nodded wisely.

“Fate has plans for us all,”

She’d been sitting on his windowsill, watching the rain running down the glass. She began to trace one with her fingertip, and he followed it with his eyes. Kaz frowned. He’d left the door open, because it was raining and he didn’t want her to open the window, but for some reason he was suddenly compelled to push it shut. Like there was something here that should be hidden, that he didn’t want to entertain the possibility of anyone else ever bearing witness to. He flexed his fingers and gripped his cane tighter, refusing to move.

“Suddenly, I believe in coincidences again,”

Inej looked at him for a moment, then back to the rain.

But it seemed very unlikely that Nina landing a strange job on the Geldstraat right before this job started was a coincidence. Kaz didn’t know what it added up to yet, but he would figure it out.

“Well, anyway,” said Nina, “I spoke to Feliks, all good for the job. He’s not thrilled about it though,”

“Of course he’s not,” said Kaz.

“He said you’ll owe him for the lost income,”

That would be more concerning if Feliks didn’t already owe Kaz money. And anyway he wasn’t really paying attention to that; mind still whirring away trying to solve the puzzle of Nina’s job on the Geldstraat last night. Not a coincidence. No such thing as a coincidence. No such thing as fate either, but Kaz really shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

“Did they want you to go routinely? At the Geldstraat?”

Nina bit her lip.

“He said it could be an ongoing offer, if I wanted it. But he also said he lost an indentured Healer recently, if he gets someone else I don’t see him forking out any extra cash for the pleasure of my company,”

“When you say lost…?”

Nina grimaced.

“Concerningly vague,”

Kaz wasn’t surprised. He nodded.

“Alright, I’ll look into it. If this ends up being an ongoing job for you it might be good for intel. Inej is at the Crow Club, tell her to get a bag together - I want you at the university tonight,”

“Tonight? Kaz, you said two days, I have clients-”

“They’ll wait,”

“Kaz-”

“Update Inej. I need to talk to the old man,”

Nina huffed a little, but she turned on her heel and went on her way. Kaz watched the empty doorway for a moment before he slowly stood up - his leg was wreaking havoc today, and he leant heavily against his cane to find his balance. He was going to be vulnerable without the Wraith for a time, and now she was vanishing slightly earlier than expected. He’d set up a communication line but it still felt dangerous not to have her close by, gathering secrets.

“I’m not sure I’m following,” she’d admitted last night, when they were discussing the plan.

It was before word had come from Nina and she’d left to follow her to the Geldstraat. They sat in Kaz’s office at the Crow Club - the door was closed and the room had no window, but they needed privacy and there wasn’t much Kaz could do about that. He watched Inej, wondering if they would need to step outside, but she seemed fine perched cross-legged on a chair, posture perfect, hands planted on her knees. Kaz found himself studying the tiny movements in her fingers, the occasional movement of her boots against her knee as she shuffled her feet. He bought her the boots the night they came back to the Slat, because he was an idiot and he hadn’t brought anything with him for her to wear. She’d traipsed after him all the way from the very North of West Stave to the very South of East still dressed in those ridiculous purple silks, completely barefoot. It hadn’t helped the whispers amongst the Dregs about what he’d hired her for.

“What connection does any of this have?” she asked, beginning to drum her fingers against her knees.

“It’s about forming the connections,” he’d told her, “Just focus on getting close to the mark - or let Nina get close and follow suit. Then we can discuss what comes next,”

Kaz’s leg screamed at him all the way down the stairs, only quieting slightly when he began to cross the ground floor of the Slat towards Per Haskell’s office. The Slat was nothing special to look at - actually it was ugly as hell to look at, with its faded, faintly mossy eaves, the wonky boards at the front that made it look like it was leaning on the buildings either side of it for support, and the fact that it probably was leaning on them but the boards just accentuated it - but nothing had come as close to feeling like home to Kaz as the Slat did since he’d arrived in Ketterdam and his entire world was slowly pried from his weak little childish hands. That was what this city did; took everything from you. And this is what you did to survive it: demand something in return. Scrape and claw and bleed your way through the Labyrinth until you didn’t just defeat the monster at its centre, you became it. Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. He wasn’t quite there yet, on the very top, but he would be. He would taste the monster’s flesh, and embrace the city as his own. The Labyrinth was meant to be a prison, but if you played your cards right you could own it. And Kaz never sat down to a card game he couldn’t win.

“Enter,” came the gruff, muffled response from Per Haskell to Kaz’s sharp, single knock on the door.

It sounded like he’d already been drinking, and when the door was open the smell alone confirmed it. Kaz fought the urge to grimace, keeping his face a cool, flat mask as he closed the door behind him. There was a window in this room and for a strange, ridiculous moment Kaz almost moved to open it. He needed to get his head on straight - the Wraith wasn’t even here, and if she had been then she could open a damn window herself if she wanted to.

“Kaz, my boy,”

Haskell gestured for him to take a seat, and Kaz’s leg was putting up such a protest that for once he took up the offer.

“Sir,” he said, nodding.

Haskell grunted. He was playing with one of his little ships in a bottle things again, and for a moment just let Kaz stew whilst he drove his focus into rearranging one of the tiny pieces. Kaz didn’t get the appeal of these little models but they were popular to display in merchant houses, to sit on desks or mantelpieces like the homeowner was waiting for your gaze to linger on it just a second too long so that he could tell you a long story about it and how it’s an exact replica of a ship he, in fact, owns himself. There were two half-constructed ones sitting on Haskell’s desk that he’d given up on over the last few months, and Kaz watched the man’s meaty, and slightly shaking, fingers fumble over the details of his newest one, feeling unsurprised that he’d never been successful at finishing any. After a minute had passed Haskell sighed and plunked the thing carelessly against the table, then picked up his glass and downed the last few drops before all but slamming it back down. Kaz flexed his fingers over the crow’s head of his cane, tightening his grip.

“Brandy?” asked Haskell, as he began to pour himself another glass.

Kaz abstained.

“Alright,” the old man breathed, taking a sip before he continued: “What trouble are you here to tell me this time, then?”

What could Kaz tell him by way of trouble? That Jesper Fahey abandoned his security shift without telling anyone where he was, only for the Wraith to drag him back five hours later from a Dime Lions club? That Nina Zenik had been sent to the Geldstraat to complete a highly suspicious Tailoring job that might have had something to do with the job Kaz had been planning for so long? All he said was:

“I need Nina and Inej to start the job earlier than I thought,”

Haskell frowned.

“How long will they be gone?”

“I don’t know yet, but it’s all under control. You’ll get your twenty percent,”

Haskell’s jaw twitched. It always got on his nerves when Kaz didn’t tell him what a job was, but that wasn’t part of their agreement. And besides, Kaz didn’t want to spread the details of his plans to too many people - everything in Ketterdam leaked.

“You can’t just take my Heartrender and my best spider without telling me h-”

“They’re not yours,”

“Well they ain’t yours,” growled Haskell.

“That isn’t what I meant,”

He groaned loudly and performatively, shaking his head.

“Don’t go getting righteous on me now, boy. I want them back here within the month, at minimum,”

Kaz pursed his lips.

“I’ll try to arrange that,”

“You see that you do,”

“Yes, sir,”

Haskell snorted, but Kaz knew he lapped up every stupid politeness he gave him. He liked to think of himself as the patriarch of a large, criminally-inclined family, but everyone knew it was Kaz who did the real work. It was more of a formality for Kaz to ever tell him anything at all.

“The Black Tips are still edging away at Fifth Harbour; pushing their luck,” he said, watching Haskell run a ringer along the rim of his glass, “We should move quickly if we want to re-establish our dominance,”

Haskell waved a hand dismissively through the air,

“A mere dog yapping at our heels. Monitor the situation, if things are any worse in a few months time we can organise a parlay,”

The man really was an idiot. Kaz nodded.

“Yes, sir,”

By the time Kaz left the office, disgruntled and impatient, Nina was back at the Slat.

“Where’s Inej?”

“Upstairs getting her stuff,” Nina said, nodding vaguely towards the stairs, “You really not going to tell us anything at all?”

Kaz sighed.

“When you get to the University, go straight to the office opposite the Boeksplein; it’s 24 hour, and they should be expecting you. You just arrived from Ravka - private journey, pepper it in because the tourist ferries don’t arrive this late - and there should be transfer papers waiting in your name. They might kick up a fuss about you being early, accommodation-wise, but-”

“But we’re two young rich girls from Ravka, it’s the middle of the night, we’re exhausted from travelling, and we’ve nowhere else to go,” Nina finished in a falsely distressed voice, winking at him, “I think I can manage that,”

“Good,” he handed her a thin stack of kruge, “That’s a month’s salary in advance, if it takes longer I’ll give you more but if it’s shorter I’ll need it back,”

She narrowed her eyes.

“This is your money? Not the Dregs’?”

He shrugged. He had to pay her somehow.

“Thank you, Kaz,”

“You won’t be any use to me if you run out of cash and starve,”

Nina sighed, tucking the notes into her pocket.

“Well thank you anyway,”

26 notes · View notes

flooffybits · 2 days

Text

Such A Cliché

A soulmate is a person's other half, so the pain that one feels is a pain shared with the other. However, when circumstances aren't quite agreeable, hurting your soulmate is what you end up doing anyway.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: getting burned, yn is an ass, yoohyeon is scared of you, sad jiu, hospitals

A/N: lmao should have been done when I told you guys about it but I wanted to add more but here you go! also please tell me if i made a mistake, i had asked a friend what is unnie in chinese because i thought it would be nicer since dongie is yn's younger sister here

☕buy me a coffee☕

Gahyeon is understandably the last to get out of bed by the time morning comes. She knows that Dong had checked in on her a while ago, but she was too sleepy to even try opening her eyes, and instead batted the older woman’s hand away, grumbling about another five minutes.

So when she finally does decide to get up and get ready, the maknae was confused to see her roommate fussing around the dorm, perfectly dressed like always. “Are you heading out, unnie?” She asked while taking a seat, welcoming the quick peck Siyeon pressed to her cheek as a good morning greeting.

The Chinese woman hummed, smiling as she grabbed her bag and then began to put her hair up into a messy bun. “I’m picking my sister up from the airport today. I thought I told you last night?”

She did. Gahyeon was just too sleepy to retain everything the older woman told her.

“I don’t know why you expect her to remember after just waking up.” Bora teases, also dressed up and ready to accompany the latter. Though her comment did earn a pout from the maknae as she glared at the dancer. “I remember! I’m just still half asleep.” She argues, earning a laugh from the woman next to her before Siyeon pulls her to a hug. “Oh, no need to be so grumpy.” She cooed and Minji finally exited her room in time to see the pair putting their shoes on.

“Oh, you’re leaving already?” She questioned, smiling when she saw the now awake maknae. “Remember to be careful, alright?” She reminds them and Bora grins while giving her a thumbs up. “Like I would let anything happen to my princess.” She says with a puff of her chest and Dong only rolled her eyes in good nature before taking her girlfriend’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go, I don’t want to have her wait too long.”

Bora allowed herself to be pulled out of the dorm, waving goodbye while Dong shouted a quick ‘be right back’.

Once the door closed behind the pair, Gahyeon turned to the leader with her brows pinched together. “I forgot that Y/n unnie was coming.” She suddenly said out loud and Siyeon chuckled while she sipped her coffee. “We figured.”

Still, Gahyeon couldn’t wipe the frown off her face as she sank further in Siyeon’s arms. “Is she going to stay here?” She mumbled and Minji sent her a sympathetic look. “I don’t think so. But Dongie wants us all to hang out.” She explains, making the maknae grimace. “Come on, I know that she isn’t too fond of us, but let’s do it for Dongie.” Siyeon coaxes her before Yubin and Yoohyeon finally come to join them in the main room.

“Dong unnie and Sua unnie already left?” Yubin noted and Minji hummed in confirmation. “I don’t know how Sua unnie is going to adjust, now that Y/n unnie is moving here.” Yoohyeon muttered before Minji gave her a meaningful look. “I know that we don’t get along with her too well, but who knows? Maybe getting to see her often now could help.”

“I hope so.”

“Is it obvious that I’m nervous?” Bora blurted out as she scanned the crowded building. She’s been to the airport numerous times and she’s not really antsy with having this many people around her. But it was the fact that she would be seeing you again that had her fidgeting in place.

Dong gave her hand a reassuring squeeze while smiling under her mask. “Relax, unnie. It’s just my sister.” That didn’t help the dancer’s nerves at all. “It’s your sister, the same one who does not like us, by the way.” She reminds and Dong resisted the urge to sigh, her smile slipping away as she looked away.

“She’s just… not adjusted yet. My parents are warming up to me being away and being an idol but Y/n, you have to understand that we were inseparable as kids.” She explained, causing Bora’s lips to purse when she felt the tension her girlfriend was feeling through their link.

She hated that she had to be put in the middle of it all.

You weren’t a bad person, you were just indifferent because of the fact that you had your only sibling stripped away from you at such a young age. You had grown up together until she moved to study in South Korea and eventually became a trainee, going against your parents’ wishes, and leaving you feeling abandoned.

You tried to be supportive of her, but everytime you would see her with her group members, it always felt like you were being reminded of how you had lost your sister to seven people you didn’t know.

It was childish, you had to admit, but you missed her dearly. Dong was your best friend and you protected her at every given moment. So, after a promotion at work, you were given the opportunity to move to a different country. And seeing that South Korea was among your options, your answer was clear as day.

“There she is.”

Bora didn't want to bring the topic up again, knowing how it was a sensitive subject. So she bears the usual grin she always wore before waving her hand in an exaggerated manner, enough for you, and a handful of strangers, to notice the dancer.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes as you head over, forcing a smile for your sister, and you notice as she lets go of her soulmate's hand to welcome you into a warm hug.

"I can't believe you're actually here." You hear her voice muffled against your shoulder, and your smile becomes more genuine as you pull back to give her a proper once over. "I can't either, but I'm sure you're gonna get sick of my face one of these days now." You joke and Bora smiles from the side, witnessing your true self around your younger sister.

Though as your eyes drifted to her, the dancer smiled and her wave was more tame this time around. "It's been a while. I hope your flight was fine." She attempts and you nod stiffly, expression now blank that Dong has to nudge you. "It was alright, though I think my legs would appreciate the walk."

She's a little surprised, considering you were a little more civil compared to your first meeting years ago. But she takes it either way.

"Well, let's get you to your apartment. I want to hear all about the promotion." Your sister pipes up as she takes your arm and Bora trails after you as you speak, respecting both of your privacy.

Though she does notice how you keep a slow pace to make sure that she isn't too far behind.

"You mean she's actually civil, now?" Siyeon asks in disbelief as she sets her cup aside. Her eyes were so wide, it looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

"I was expecting her to ignore me the whole time. But she was trying." Bora explained, her face showing how she was also having troubles coming to terms with your new personality. "Then again, you are Dongie's soulmate. It's possible that she's still not too happy with the rest of us but tolerates you." Yoohyeon piped up and Bora turned to her. "I know, I thought of that, too."

Currently, Dong decided to spend a few nights with you to help you adjust, which Minji allowed.

"Dongdong actually told me that they had a serious talk when she went back home." The dancer stated while leaning against Yubin's arm. "But at least she doesn't resent you. She's trying for Dong unnie's sake."

"Dami is right. I'm sure none of us want to have Dongie pick sides. I'd probably do the same if my brother ever finds his soulmate." The leader commented and Gahyeon crinkled her nose. "Unless you find yours first." She teased, making the eldest playfully roll her eyes. "Very funny, but you know I'm not rushing into finding them."

Siyeon hums, already knowing the leader's stance after all these years. "Wouldn't it be funny if your soulmate ended up being Y/n?" Yoohyeon made a sound of protest, looking scandalized as Gahyeon laughed. "Don't say that! I can't imagine Jiu unnie with someone like Y/n unnie."

Bora rolled her eyes this time. "She isn't that bad. We don't even know what she's like aside from that one time and all the stories Dongie told us." She defended and Yubin shrugged her shoulders as she laced her fingers under her chin. "That's true, but all of unnie's stories are different from what Y/n unnie showed us."

"She's a protective older sister who had to let go of her only sibling. I'm sure you can understand how painful that must have been."

No one says anything to counter that. Even when Gahyeon was an only child, she's grown to love all the girls as though they were her own family, so she can't imagine having any of them taken away from her.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Bora spoke. "Dongie said Y/n was offering dinner for tomorrow." She looked up from her phone, the question in her eyes and Minji struggled a little to find an answer before she took a quick look around.

If Bora said you were fine, then maybe it would be alright.

"Sure. Tell them we'll meet them there."

Maybe that was her mistake.

Minji isn’t sure why, but given that you would be around more often now, she realized that you had to have some sort of civil relationship for your sister’s sake. Dong was as precious to you as she was to all of them. With you much closer now, there was no doubt that you would be around them, whether you liked it or not.

When dinner came around, Dong was leading the group through the restaurant, giving her name before they were brought to the table you had reserved for everyone, though you were nowhere in sight.

“I thought you said she was already here?” Yoohyeon asks cautiously, taking a seat and then looking around the fancy restaurant. “She sure does know how to go all out.” Siyeon comments when she looks at the various decorations and the expensive looking furniture.

Dong laughs at that, but a voice beats her into responding. “Work hard and you get rewarded, I suppose.” All heads turn to you when you finally join them and all but your sister and her soulmate straighten at your appearance.

With a nod, you take a seat beside the pair and then eye each girl. “I’ve already asked Dongie what you girls would like and ordered ahead. Though if you want to add anything, feel free to ask.” You explain, gesturing to the food that was already present on the table and answering Yubin’s silent question.

Minji shifts a little, the tension suffocating, before she decides to speak up. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope your trip was fine.” She says carefully, a kind smile on her features as you raise your eyes to meet hers. “It was alright.” Was your curt reply and Dong rolled her eyes before giving you a nudge on the side.

You give your sister a small glare before clearing your throat. “Right. Well, there was something I’ve been meaning to say.” You tell them and all eyes are on you, all of them listening very carefully while you keep a calm look on your face. “I am aware that my actions towards you all have been very childish and unpleasant.” You begin, and they aren’t sure if you notice the silent exchange they send each other or just chose to ignore it. “I didn’t make the effort to get to know any of you and merely aimed my anger and selfishness towards you all. For that, I’d like to properly apologize.”

The table is quiet for a while, the six girls looking at you in surprise and disbelief, and while you didn’t show it, you were a little nervous.

Thankfully, Yubin manages to recover before offering you a smile. “I understand why you acted the way you did, and it’s okay. I’m sure I would feel the same if I were in your shoes.” She assures and it’s like a chain reaction before everyone starts talking. “We get it, really. Family is really important to you.” Yoohyeon is the one to say, and while it was different for her, she does understand being separated from a loved one.

Slowly, the tension starts to melt away. And while it was still a little awkward, the girls found a little bit of comfort in your presence the longer you all spoke to one another. Much like Dong when she first arrived in South Korea, you weren’t too talkative.

You were still quietly gauging each of the girls’ personalities, though you knew enough about Bora to know she would take care of your sister, soulmate or not.

They all cared for one another and you could see that your little sister was, in fact, happy where she was. This was her home away from home, and you didn’t have the heart to keep blaming these girls when they made sure she was loved and taken care of.

Resigning to that fact, you decided that maybe this was for the best. You couldn’t cling to your childhood forever and it was probably time to move on.

While you're so stuck in thought, you failed to catch how Yoohyeon had accidentally knocked a bowl with her hand, effectively spilling its contents. Unfortunately, the soup in it was still hot and you were quick to wince when it came in contact with your skin.

What no one was also expecting though, was the yelp that came from across your seat. Minji had clutched her left hand in an attempt to soothe the sudden ache and Dong looked more than surprised as you cradled the exact same hand.

“Unnie, are you alright?" Gahyeon’s question caught your ears and Siyeon’s eyes widened as both you and the leader answered at the same time.

“I'm okay."

The table grew silent as the two of you finally looked up, Minji’s face growing pale when she realized what was happening. She had kept her soulmate link open, and by doing so led her connection to experience the same pain her soulmate was experiencing.

That soulmate… was you.

“I'm, uh, going to ask for more napkins." Yubin quietly muttered as she swiftly left the table and Gahyeon squirmed as her eyes shifted from one person to another. The silence was deafening at this point and Dong wasn't sure how to proceed as she looked towards Bora.

The dancer looked worried above all else, but the disbelief still showed. “I think-”

"Excuse me.”

Dong made a sound of protest as she watched you get up and leave the table. "Jie!” With a quick nod from her girlfriend, your sister quickly followed after you while the rest of the girls did their best to process what just transpired.

"So Jiu unnie’s soulmate…"

“I can't believe you jinxed it!" Yoohyeon squeaked while Siyeon tended to the leader’s hand, making sure it didn't hurt too much. “Oh god, Jiu unnie is… no, I can't even think about it.” Bora rolled her eyes at the maknae’s antics before she took the napkins from Yubin’s hands and began to wipe away the spilled soup. “Stop acting like Y/n’s some sort of disease."

“But she hates us!" Yoohyeon protested. “How can she be Jiu unnie’s soulmate?" Minji, who had been quiet the whole time, finally snaps out of her daze before looking around to assess what was happening.

She took note of the absence of you and Dong, so she's quickly on her feet and catching everyone off guard. “Unnie?"

“Where are they?" She almost feels panicked at the thought that you’d left, but Siyeon gently tugs her back down to sit. “Unnie, I think you need to let them talk and let Y/n calm down." She says softly and the leader purses her lips together. "But I… we…"

Bora frowns at her friend before shaking her head. “Just let them talk for now, okay?" And as much as Minji wants to go and chase after you right now, she reluctantly obliged, sitting stiffly in her seat while the others did their best to try and distract her.

It takes around ten minutes before Dong is walking back, a regretful look on her face, and Minji’s shoulders tense up when she doesn't see you anywhere. “Unnie went home." Oh.

Instantly, there's sorrow in the leader's chest with knowing that her soulmate intentionally chose to leave after finding out who she was. While you may not be on the best of terms, she at least hoped that you would open up to the idea and talk to her. Since you were now living in South Korea, she thought this might be your chance to repair the relationship that you had and maybe work on your bond.

But that didn't seem like the case.

“The food’s been paid for but… do you guys still want to stay?” Dong asks with a frown and Minji looks at her with pleading eyes. "Did she leave already?” She can't help asking and Dong gives her a look, analyzing her friend, and she's not sure whether or not she wants to answer.

But she knows Minji.

"She's waiting for her ride.”

That's all it takes for the leader to shoot out of her seat and out of the restaurant in hopes of catching you before your ride gets there. While Yoohyeon and Gahyeon wanted to protest, their respective partners both stopped them.

By the time Minji’s out the door, she feels the chill bite at her skin for a split second before it's mellowed down. Her heart skips a beat at the thought but pushes it down as she focuses on the task at hand. It doesn't take her long to find you though because there's only a few people there. She sees the way you rub your burnt hand and her own skin tingles at the slight pain that lingered.

"Can we talk?”

“You and I have no business with each other that would require-”

“You know that’s not true… not anymore at least.” You were stubborn, Minji knew that. But she wasn’t about to give up on a chance that allowed her to connect with someone on such a deeper level that even her words were no longer needed.

But you were having none of it. Soulmates be damned. You were not about to do that, not with her.

“It’s a stupid connection. It doesn’t mean anything to me.” You turn to give her a sharp look. “It shouldn’t mean anything to you either.” All words die in her throat when a car finally pulls up and you open the door, stepping inside without saying anything more than you already have.

Minji all but watches as you slip from her fingers and disappear into the night, leaving her with an aching heart and shattered hope.

“Unnie, are you sure?” Dong pants when she hunches over, hands on her knees while she tries to catch her breath and Minji puts away her nearly empty water bottle, blinking up at the rest of her team with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, I just keep messing up this one part.” She says regretfully and Bora gives her a look that basically screams “shut up or I just might strangle you”.

“It’s only just a little bit more practice and you girls will be free to go so don’t worry.” Sooyeon promises them and Yubin shakes her head with a grin. “It’s okay, unnie. We can handle it.” However, no one is able to pick up on the wince that the leader shows after finally stretching her arms and legs. Siyeon had only spared her a questioning stare before she’s being bothered by the overgrown puppy of the group as Bora marches in their direction.

“You alright to keep going?” Sooyeon asks her when she sees the leader staring, but Minji is quick to snap out of her thoughts and flashes a grin, nodding her head and calling everyone to attention.

The pain lingers, but she manages to push through until maybe the week after.

She quietly asked Siyeon to get her some hot packs to put on the sore area along with her legs one night before she’s just about ready to call it quits.

“Handong?”

The familiar voice meets everyone’s ears when the door opens and a dancer is quick to point to your sister, who spins around in surprise. “Jie jie! What are you doing here?” She asks when she walks over. “Actually, how did you get here?” She adds with her brows pinched together and you frown before handing her the plastic bag you were carrying. “I have a phone, you idiot.”

Bora walks over to join you, given that you were a little more welcoming of her now that you were living here and managed to get to know her on the few instances Dong had forced you to spend time together. “What’s that you got there?” She inquires while your sister finally looks at the contents of the bag, her face lighting up when she sees a few familiar names inside. “Aww! You didn’t have to come here and bring us food!” She laughed when she noticed the embarrassment on your face.

Minji blanches at the sight of you and basically shrinks next to the maknae who looks worriedly at her. “We can go out if you want, unnie.” She whispers, but the eldest only offers her a smile before shaking her head, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s okay.”

“Anyway, shouldn’t you be at work right now?” Dong asks when Bora takes the bag to set aside, telling everyone that you had gotten something for them, too. “I clocked out early. I wasn’t feeling too good.” You mumble before your sister raises a brow. “So you decided to come here instead of going home and resting?”

“I wanted to be more involved in your life.”

Your sister pauses at your words before a smile blooms across her face and a poke landed on your cheek. “You’re getting soft.” She teased and you crinkle your nose while swatting her hand away. “Shut up and go back to practice. Everyone is looking at us.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

With a laugh, Dong skips over to join the rest of her friends while you take a seat on one of the chairs to watch them do their work. While you were someone who worked in the world of business, you were honest when you told your sister that you wished to be more involved. So you pay attention to their choreography with rapt attention.

And while you don’t intend on doing so, your eyes gravitate towards the woman who was, in your opinion, a little more sluggish than she should be. It caused your brows to raise before pain flared throughout the entirety of your left side. Immediately, your hand reaches to try and soothe it, but the pain is persistent so you’re quick to look at the raven haired woman who is trying her best to power through whatever pain she was dealing with without realizing that she still kept her soulmate link open.

Looks like you were more tired than you let on because you did the same.

However, when you began to feel the sudden influx of her pain, your frown only deepened before you decided to slowly absorb whatever it was she was feeling, feeling a little relieved when she starts to move a lot more comfortably than when you arrived.

It’s like that for the rest of their practice as you quietly watched and accepted your soulmate’s discomfort without her knowledge.

“Will you be coming over tonight?” Dong asks when she comes back to you, candy in hand, and you shake your head, wincing when the nausea hits harder. “I just wanted to watch.” She scoffs before lightly punching your arm and you almost curse at how much that hurt. “You could have just gone ahead, dummy.”

Your brows knit together and at this point, Minji was already looking at you from where she stood. “I just felt like it. Now, shut up.” You grumble before swiftly walking out of the room and your sister laughs as she chases after you. “Jie jie, come on!” But your only goal right now was to escape and hide the fact that you had used your soulmate link to help Minji despite how you’ve been ignoring her.

Hell, you’ve been making her feel like utter shit with the way you talked to her since finding out she was your soulmate, but you had no idea that she was dealing with something like this.

“Be sure to eat when you get to your dorm and don’t stay up late.” You instruct as you reach your car, a pout forming on the latter’s lips as she crosses her arms. “Since when did you turn into mom?” She asks and you give her a look before getting inside. “I mean it, Dongdong.”

Sighing, she nods her head before giving you a quick hug and then shutting your door. “I will. Get some rest, okay? You look like you’re about to pass out or something.”

Shooting her a smile, you nod to the rest of the girls over her shoulder, eyes meeting Minji’s before you finally bid them all a goodnight and drive off.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Dong just stands there, but her smile is nowhere in sight as she lowers her hand and frowns in the direction you took. “Dongie?” Bora is quick to her side, noticing the sudden shift in her mood before her girlfriend shook her head. “I’ll check on unnie tomorrow.” Is all she says before she’s leading the two of them to the van that was waiting for them.

While you did avoid your soulmate like the plague, you do show up to a handful of their practices ever since then. Minji obviously noticed due to how her eyes would immediately gravitate towards you whenever you entered the room. She didn't mean to, but knowing that you were her soulmate had shifted something within her and she's a little frustrated knowing how your relationship was.

But since the first visit, Minji did notice how she was slowly feeling better. And at one point she did believe that she was finally well rested without knowing that you were the actual reason that she was better. Maybe the only time that she got a hunch was when you didn't come to their practice and she could feel the same throb on her side as before you had come to visit them.

“Y/n isn't here today?" Bora voiced out one time and Minji looked up to see your sister shaking her head in response. “She hasn't been answering any of my texts either so I think she's busy at work.” Dong tells them and Minji can't help but frown.

While you were a busy person, you always had time to text your sister on your whereabouts even though you’ve been living in South Korea for a month now.

"Doesn't unnie usually still text you though?” Yubin voices out Minji’s original thoughts. Even though she's admittedly still intimidated by your presence, Yoohyeon did show concern when she notices a difference in your usual routine. “The last message she sent me was three hours ago. She should be done with work by now.” Dong mumbles while she tries to send you another text. However when there’s still no response from you, she purses her lips before finally dialing your number.

“Maybe she’s just asleep, unnie.”

“She would have told me that she was headed home at least." Dong bites her lip as she anxiously waits for you to pick up the phone. However as soon as the line connects, she breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. “Yah! What are you doing? I've been trying to contact you-"

Everyone watches as the resident cat went quiet, her expression hardening as she listened to whoever seemed to have your phone at the moment. “What room?" Is all they hear before she's thanking the person and then quickly reaching for her bag.

“Unnie, I need to go to the hospital."

Bora and Minji’s faces were both of surprise and shock, but the former says nothing more as she follows after her soulmate while the leader and the rest of the members hurried after them. "Y/n unnie is at the hospital?” Yoohyeon asks while she did her best to avoid tripping over her own feet. "What happened?”

"That's what I want to know, too.”

As everyone huddled inside the car, Dong stares at her phone with Bora gently coaxing her into talking to her. Meanwhile, Minji’s mind can't help but run around at the possible reasons as to why you would be in the hospital.

For some reason it saddens her how she can't even feel anything that you may be feeling at the moment and all she can think of is how you've cut your connection off. It stings, but she refuses to be selfish right now and focuses on keeping her member calm and the rest in check.

As soon as they get to the hospital, Dong is the first one out and is quickly asking for directions to your room. She has no room for anything else at the moment. She just needed to see where you were. So she skips the elevator and opts for the stairs, taking two steps at a time and ignoring the protests of her roommate and soulmate.

“Uh, do you know where we're going?" Yubin can't help but question. Still no response. “Dongie, slow down or you might trip." Siyeon warns, only for the said female to abruptly turn down the next corridor, causing Yoohyeon to nearly crash into the dancer’s back.

Your sister would apologize to them later, probably. Right now, she was more concerned about your condition. When her eyes spotted the room number you were in, she quickly reached for the door before pushing it open.

“Jie jie?"

Inside, she immediately finds you sitting on the hospital bed. She's quick to give you a once over before she notices the bags under your eyes and that your skin lacks color. Her brows pinch together in worry as she comes closer and you turn your head when you hear their group.

“Dongie, what are you doing here?" Minji frowns at the question, but Dong merely scoffs as she crosses her arms across her chest. “What am I doing here? What happened to you?" She all but seethes. “You weren't answering any of my texts and when I call you, it's someone from work telling me that you're at the hospital?" Your frown deepens when the guilt stems in your chest the more your sister speaks. “I told you not to overwork yourself."

The rest of the girls are a little surprised, but then again this was her sister. It was understandable that she was upset right now.

“Dongdong, calm down." Minji gently soothes as Bora grabs her soulmate’s hand. “I know you're upset, but Y/n needs to rest right now, okay?" You watch as the leader tries to coax your sister but the glare she has is still fixed on your face as she waits for an explanation.

“It's okay." You finally interrupt. Looking around, you breathe out a sigh before gesturing for everyone to take a seat. “I suppose you'll all be here for a while so please have a seat somewhere."

“Jie-"

“I'm sorry." You cut your sister off with a heartfelt apology. “I didn't mean to worry you. In fact, I didn't think this would happen in the first place." You tell her, leaning back against the bed. “What exactly happened then?”

You're quiet for a moment, carefully considering whether or not to tell the truth with all of her members present. But then again, you were seeing them in a completely different light especially after you've been experiencing how exhausted Minji’s felt ever since you arrived.

"Jiu-ssi.”

Everyone looked surprised when you called their leader, but your soulmate only looked at you as your eyes met hers. "You haven't been feeling anything for a while, have you?” It was a simple question, but Gahyeon only frowned at the implication. "Why are you asking Jiu unnie?” But Yubin had placed a hand on the maknae’s knee while Minji shifted in her seat. "Not… really. I only got a little sore after some of our practices but they pretty much went away after."

She doesn't understand why this was relevant. You'd severed your connection with her ever since you found out she was your soulmate. It was why she couldn't feel an ounce of the pain you were feeling.

“As it turns out, the pain that you've been feeling for the past month has only been accumulating."

What?

“You were experiencing some pain on your sides the day I first visited Dongie at your company. I noticed that you weren't exactly comfortable when you were dancing so I tried something.” Wait, did that mean… “When I had reopened our soulmate bond, I was able to take that pain away, along with every other discomfort you had been feeling at the time."

Minji’s eyes widened at the admission and her back grew stiff. “I also noticed how the pain was becoming more frequent so I opted to just leave the link open." You then shake your head when you remember where you were. “Unfortunately, it looks like I've overestimated myself.”

“But I thought…”

"How come unnie never felt anything from you?” Siyeon asks when she notices that the leader was unable to find her voice. "A soulmate link can be made one way. So I opted to keep her out while letting her pain in.” Dong took your hand in hers when she took the seat closest to the bed. “You should know how exhausting that can be. You should have said something.” Your sister scolds and you only smile while squeezing her hand. "After what I said to her…" You tear your eyes away from your sister to look at your soulmate. “I thought maybe this was my way of possibly apologizing."

Minji couldn’t believe her ears, but at the same time, she was deeply moved with how you had decided to take all of her pain away even when you had told her that it all meant nothing to you. All this time she believed that you had no care for her and yet… you had been taking care of her without her knowledge.

“I know that I overreacted when I found out, but the truth is that I’m afraid of what this link may bring me.” You finally admit with a heavy breath. “I didn’t want to have another thing possibly be taken from me again, so I opted to just push you away rather than accept you and the bond that we have.”

Sensing the sensitivity of the conversation, Dong quickly gestured for everyone to get out of the room. And while Yoohyeon wanted to protest, her soulmate placed a hand over her mouth and merely dragged her outside. Bora sent her best friend a look while Dong gave you a smile before they both closed the door, leaving the two of you alone.

“I’m sorry, Jiu-ssi. I know that you’ve been miserable since we last spoke but I guess I was too prideful to admit that I was in the wrong in the first place.” You tell her and Minji forced herself to stand back up before slowly approaching your bed.

“I… can’t say that it was okay but… I do understand where you’re coming from.” She finally says while gripping her own hands. “Your sister left, you were hurt. So now that there’s something else to lose, you’re afraid.” She had hit a nail on that one as you dropped your gaze down to your lap and Minji felt her heart skip as she stopped at the edge of your hospital bed. “But Y/n… you need to know that I don’t give up on the things that matter to me.”

You lift your head in surprise to see her already staring at you, a warm look on her face as she assesses you and you wonder deep down why she isn’t screaming at you, cursing you for hurting her. “How can you possibly forgive me?” It comes out of your mouth before you can even think, and she only gives you a smile.

“I’d like to think that I’m not like most people. And if you give me a chance… maybe we can get to know more about each other's soulmate better?”

#girl group #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenarios #jiu #jiu scenarios #jiu imagines #jiu x reader #kim minji #dreamcatcher x reader

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loveinsprings · 3 days

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seasons- part 1

pairing: enzo vogrincic x f!reader

warnings: none

genre: angst-ish

notes: (1) this is my first story ever, so it might not be that good, comments and opinions are welcomed (2) the story will have three parts, this works more as a intro (3) it was inspired by my favorite wave to earth song seasons

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I can’t be your love… Look it’s too trivial for you now

She sits in the restaurant’s terrace eating her meal in silence, her eyes focused on her phone’s screen. She reads the article carefully time and time again and takes a couple of screenshots of the parts she finds interesting. She smiles and takes a sip of her beer, the response to the movie is great, she had suspected it would be good, the director and production behind it had made great films before, how could this one fail?

She opens X and searches his name again. She always feels slightly guilty while doing this, as if she’s stalking someone, but she still goes ahead and does it. People love him, and how could they not? For the eight years that she knows Enzo she knows that he’s one of a kind, someone special. He’s kind, intelligent, talented, and obviously, attractive, of course people would love him. Her friend had worked hard all these years, and while it makes sense that he gets the recognition he deserves, the way that the film-and his popularity-have exploded almost globally shocks her a little bit.

Her heart beats a little faster in an uneasy way. She takes another sip of her drink, trying to wash those feelings away. She’s happy for her friend, she’s proud. But this weird feeling keeps popping out of her heart and flooding her veins. Uneasiness, fear, confusion. She doesn’t know how things will work out. How their friendship will work out. How her feelings will work out.

She focuses on her food, it’s useless to overthink about things that haven’t happened yet, and after all, everything will turn out well for him; and she’s his friend, she will be happy for him, she’ll be by his side cheering him on his next big steps. How could she feel upset even for a bit? When everything is going so well?

Her phone’s screen lights up, it’s a message from him, he’s asking her what are her plans for next Monday, maybe she would like to go for coffee in the afternoon? After checking her calendar she quickly answers him, of course she can go for coffee, she doesn’t tell him that she’ll have to work late into Sunday evening to be able to meet a work deadline. He doesn’t need to know, it’s a trivial thing really, besides she really needs to take a break from work, and hanging out with one of best friends will help her relax.

She schedules their meeting in her calendar after she finishes her meal, and quickly writes a text to him asking him how everything’s going, he replies saying he’s super busy, but that everything’s well, he’s surprised that new appointments are being made, events are being programmed for the next couple of months at least. ‘It’s Netflix, what did you expect?’. He just laughs at her response.

While she walks back to her apartment she reminds herself that she’ll take a break from her phone, she hasn’t done much reading these days. She also reminds herself that she can’t keep going on like this, checking stuff related to him so frequently. It’s not good, she tells herself, ‘I’ve been here before, it’s no use to get hung up on him again’. She looks at her reflection on a shop’s window, ‘You made a choice all those years back-she tells herself-no one forced you, and now, for your own well being, you have to look after yourself and don’t get your feelings tangled’.

As cliche as it sounds she fell in love with her friend and of course she didn’t tell him. She won’t be telling him any time soon anyways. She finds it ridiculous, how could she end up in a situation like this? She often feels guilty, how could she call herself his friend when she has all these feelings inside of her? And that’s why she made a choice, she would be just his friend, never tell him her feelings, don’t take things too far, and don't play silly games around him.

She arrives at her place, takes off her boots and quickly takes a shower. While shampooing her hair she tells herself that it wasn’t a hard choice, it wasn’t hard at all. Years ago, when she told Silvia, her best friend, that she had, sort of, fallen in love with Enzo, and that she wouldn’t not tell him, her friend asked her if she was afraid that “it would ruin their friendship”. Her best friend wanted to argue that it was worth a shot, she had feelings for him, and if he rejected her, she could move on. She laughed, Silvia looked confused at her, she said ‘look, I did this for me, not him’.

Contrary to the cliche “I’m afraid that it would ruin our friendship, that’s why I kept my feelings for myself”, Y/N had decided to not act on her feelings because she felt that there were many things in her life that she needed to work on. At the time she felt like she was an incomplete person, and she honestly couldn’t say that her lover would be ‘her other half’. She had to have her other parts together, she had to be able to assemble all her pieces, by herself. What good would come out if she confessed her feelings to him? She felt that her insecurities would be a burden, her short temper could be hurtful, her clinginess could be a bother. She had more problems than she could count. She could end up dragging him with her instead of finding a solution.

She doesn’t pity herself, and even though it can be hard sometimes she chose to be just his friend. But, she had learned to move on with her life. She had gone on dates, she had had brief relationships with other guys. She couldn’t deny her feelings existed, nestled in her heart, sometimes they were more present, like a wind chime on an open window, tingling softly whenever the breeze hit them. Sometimes it felt like they were hidden, and the only way she could reach them was on sleepless nights when she focused on their memories together.

She had been going through the pages of her book slowly, she was actually enjoying it. Her wet hair making a damp patch on her back, the soft hum of the air con creating a soft relaxing sound, when another notification came on her phone. He had sent her a picture he took that day when he managed to go out for a bit. She jokingly told him that she was shocked that he could be a good photographer, ‘if by any chance you can’t find work as an actor, you could do this for real’ she wrote. He sent her a laughing emoji and asked her if she was busy, if she could talk for a bit.

She laid on her couch and dialed his number before he could beat her to it. It only took him a couple of seconds to answer ‘hi Y/N, how was today?’ She laughed, he sounded tired, he had never done promotions for such a big project, he was exhausted by all the things that were happening. ‘Hope you don’t forget to drink water and eat properly these days’, she told him, she didn’t think it was necessary to answer his question. She preferred to focus the conversation on him, whether she would tell herself that if she ignored her problems she wouldn’t need to deal with them, and that her friend had more important things going on.

They fell into a conversation quickly, he was tired, he felt like he needed to prepare himself better for interviews, with the popularity of the film he got more and more requests for them and he kept doubting if he was doing well. At the same time he found it amusing how things had gone so far. He genuinely hadn’t predicted that people would be so hooked on the film, he felt like he was part of a boyband. Throughout the conversation she keeps making jokes about all of this, she knows he has lots of things in his mind and she’s trying to keep things light.

He sighs, she changes her phone from her left hand to her right one, and sees that they’ve been talking for more than forty minutes. At that moment he tells her ‘Everything is so easy with you, it’s not like I won’t stop thinking about these things, but whenever I talk with you, everything seems more simple, thanks, I know I’m lucky to have you as my friend’

‘Yeah, I know, we’re lucky to have each other’s back… to be friends’

#enzo vogrincic #lsdln x reader #enzo vogrincic x reader

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saltmalkin · 7 months

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midnight parade

#wanted to see if the way I painted with oils back in college could push my digital art a bit more #been getting kinda bored of the direction my digital art has been taking lately #anyway I like how this turned out. expect more of this maybe.#fantasy #animal art #saltmalkin

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wasyago · 7 months

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IGNEOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im actually so obsessed with drawing this guy. it's too fun ough ougb ough

#wanted to simplify his design for myself but i think i made it equally as difficult. just different #oh well what can one do...#anyways! expect more igneous art tomorrow! and the day after tomorrow! and maybe later but idk about that. haven't drawn it yet #also like. im so happy with how this design turned out. its so fun so geometric so dark so vibrant maaaaaannnnn #wanted to say something else but forgot...#jrwi riptide #jrwi igneous #my art #sketch

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deiaiko · 3 months

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#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arms ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday.

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

Masterlist

Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3

☕ Buy me coffee ☕

#Whee we get to know some of their past. Specifically their turning point #I hope it flows nicely because i have rewritten this like 3 times now 😭😭😭 dialogues are just not my specialty #like how to make them reveal such information without making them come out of the blue #writing style aside. let's talk about why Agni behaves this way #I will save the details on the what and how for the prologue. but basically Agni had been through hell that he couldn't escape alone #Rak Hatz and Isu saved him (or attempted to). and Agni owed them for saving his life. thus the strong attachment that Khun doesn't have #also let me mention that Agni had trouble differentiating between hallucination and reality after the incident. So he was kind of in denial #maybe Agni had come to a conclusion that they might be dead months after that. but he was too afraid to admit it to Grace #because he thought it was partly his fault for being incompetent. and Grace would hate him for letting their friends die #not wanting to risk being left by Grace. he just put himself (and inevitably Grace too) in the illusion of truth #that there's still a chance their friends are still alive because they have no proof of their deaths #so when Agni was offered to go back to the past. he agreed to it. Already expecting that Rak Hatz Isu aren't the same ones that he looks fo #but it was as good as he could get to redeem himself. Plus they get to meet everyone else who they couldn't save #Anyway. I'm taking hiatus until April. In return I will answer if you have any questions whether it is written in the tags or sent via ask #see ya folks <3 we'll get more brothers and team bonding when I return #tower of god #tog #two sides of the same coin fic #my fic #my art #bam #25th bam #jue viole grace #khun #khun aguero agnis #khunbam #shibisu #ship leesoo #rak wraithraiser #hatz

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acutecoral · 6 months

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I'm thinking about Roier a little more, like...people have mentioned this before but just this man has been Spiralling for a while now and I deeply feel that when he ends up being pulled in to lore in the coming few days, it's going to be ugly

He was already vengeful when he was betrayed by his friends during those earlier days on the server, and that darkness only grew when Bobby died and when the Federation misled them to believe they could get Bobby back. There may be more events, but these ones are the ones peeps tend to reference back to *insert across the spiderverse sound effect*

Anyways

I was thinking about Roier because when it comes to how Cellbit's character arc could be resolved, I was thinking of grounding points; the thing that could be used to anchor him back from the path he's taking. I was thinking people like Pac, Bagi, the Eggs, his friends and family that worry for him, that would be horrified by how much he's hurting himself for them. If he gets shown and reminded about what's at stake...possibly, possibly we can see him start making his way around to something more stable, something more grounded.

But for Roier? I'm drawing a blank.

He's similar to Cellbit in terms of anchors. You have his family: Leonarda, Foolish, Vegetta, Richas, but out of everyone, Foolish is the only one left really and he's not that aware that Roier's not doing so well, and while Foolish does care I'm haven't seen them interacting enough to make an argument that Foolish can help in a big way.

Which leaves Roier's main anchor at this moment being one person.

Cellbit.

To help Cellbit is to help Roier, if Roier does take a similar spiral down with Cellbit.

But...the thing is, while it would be absolutely fun to see them be murder husbands, I think...maybe Roier could see what state Cellbit is in. Like, he won't care about what Cellbit had done, like he gets it and has shown he doesn't really mind. Instead, he'll see what his husband is doing to himself by going on this one man crusade against the Federation.

Like sure, he promised he'll be by his side to burn the Federation down, but he won't do it if he loses Cellbit too, you know?

Roier lost so much already, and like Cellbit had done, to have seen through his nonchalance and disregard when he hasn't been sleeping, when he's unable to sleep having lost his sister and son in law, Roier might just do the same for him.

To see through the blood and violence to the core cause of why Cellbit is doing what he's doing. That it's just a brave face, of a man that's felt helpless, that's felt useless, that's so scared, that felt like he's lost everything, that felt that he's got to do it all alone, that has to win the fight no matter the cost, even if it meant sacrificing himself. All for their family. All for him.

I don't know where Roier will decide to take his character, but...I'll take comfort in the fact that both he and Cellbit are each other's anchors, and care about each other so much, they won't let the other destroy themselves in the process.

#qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #qsmp posts #acuteliveblogs #mcyt #qsmp #honestly did not expect for this post to turn out to be more hopeful than i thought #but maybe that's just my personal bias of hope and healing coming through #but anyways it's what I've noticed anyways with how roier plays his characters #like luis and his cubito #just that consistency for care for concern #I'm not saying they won't destroy the Federation #but i don't imagine he wanted it this way either #he'll know immediately cellbit is not in a good space and will likely stop him #but that's what i think #either way!!!#im excited to see what will happen

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theflyingfeeling · 4 months

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okay I'm not expecting anyone to care all that much, but I was looking at the prompts for the 18th Day of Gift-Giving for my Olli/Allu fic advent calendar and I'm between two options on what to do with them, so if anyone out there wants to put in their two cents...

(see the pros and cons in the tags of the original post)

#on one hand i'd like to write a standalone with a storyline of its own #because that way i could probably manage to write a better story #on the other hand i kinda feel like i should focus on the main plot after all the standalones i've posted this week #but if i stick to the main plot my options would be more limited 🤔#because i don't feel like making either of them have a random headache/migrain or some kinda personal crisis #just for the sake of the prompt #i know there's barely any plot to begin with but i still don't want to make it too scattered 😅#i have an idea that would work alright for the main story and it would probably turn out cute enough #but some of the other prompts that wouldn't really work for the main story are soooooooo tempting #and i mean. at least 4 or 5 of the stories for next week will be related to the main plot #plus the stories for the 16th and the 17th #so there'd still be plenty for that too!#i'm probably gonna make my own decision regardless of the voting result but i'd like to hear from you anyway #i've never made a poll before and i'm kinda nervous about this lol i really am expecting this to get maybe 3 votes max 🤡#i hate how the title is so huge pls don't be annoyed with me i'm sorry for existing i promise i'll never make a post ever again 😭#not putting this in any tags. you see this if you see this

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gibbearish · 2 days

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am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes

#that being said. pressurized cabins drive me insane a little bit #and also it gives you pretty intense sea legs for a While #like. the ones from the first trip hadnt gone away by the return one. so. might be stuck with that for a few days #we shall see #also ajr live fucks severely #the albums were already incredible but that was a goddamn religious experience #like. idk the way i think abt it is theyre more djs than a regular band esp w their performance showing the making of way less sad #like their music is very electronic‚ theyre making mixes of their own sound effects more than singing in one go #so like. the vocals were a teeensy bit rough at times #notably times it has taken me Literally Hundreds Of Hours Practice to be able to consistently sing along with #and times ive found its literally physically impossible to like. no matter what #idc how big your lungs are‚ there is no human on earth who can do that final run of karma in one breath #much less to An Entire Stadium After An Hour Of Jumping And Dancing And Singing Loud As Fuck #so like i dont blame them for that‚ you dont go to live shows expecting it to be 100% perfect anyways jwbdjsbfksb #the trumpet however. well she was certainly playing sometimes. and was very enthusiastic about her flares.#however. in most of their songs they use midi trumpets to my ear at least #meaning she was likely an addition specifically for live performances and in my personal band kid opinion #prooobably was not in any of the like. higher tier bands? idk just. a lot of the mistakes she was making were hitting as stuff that got #taught out of us the instant we joined any band beyond regular concert #so i would guess she was probably just like. a friend who happened to play trumpet in high school or maybe even just middle school #and they knew that the trumpet parts in their pieces were big and distinct enough that like they /had/ to get a live player #and just kinda. didnt anticipate the audition -> performance gap #like. her tone was really fried the whole time like she was playing as hard as possible #which. she was mic'd. have the sound guy turn her up.#the way they did it made it sound like she was using a mute but not. like she only got the bad parts of a mute from it yknow #her tempo and timing were. bad. theres no nice way to put that one it just Was Bad‚ like the trumpet runs in ajr songs arent. complicated #like. quite literally if you handed me the sheet music right now i would have it down perfect in a week at absolute most #and better than that player on sightread. like. we did so many sightreading drills.#like ill share my band kid creds if anyone cares but i need to emphasize this isnt me being braggy like. they genuinely just arent hard #fuck im out of tags. w/e i think only like one of yall also listens to them anyways so i can leave it there

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peapod20001 · 1 year

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I like to think that if my tumblr pals came to my house, they’d have a good time

#random post #I don’t mean that as in ‘yea woo let’s party and get fucked up’ like no lol #I just mean. our house is a place where people get along #there’s no expectations here. wanna sit and talk? we can hang out and talk about whatever #wanna play a game? chances are a few other people do to #need to get away for a bit and maybe take a nap? we’ve got plenty of beds take your pick. we’ll make sure no one bothers you #hungry or thirsty? help yourself don’t be shy. we can always get more #like we had ppl over on Saturday and it was so FUN like ppl would talk all together and then different conversations would split off of that #we would go outside then back in. we had food and some ppl had alcohol #we were laughing SO hard about funny shit (like discovering that my sisters bf worked on the gas meter at grandpas but didn’t SAY ANYTHING #ABOUT IT LMFAO) my cousin brought his gf to meet everyone and she just fit in perfectly and so obviously had an obsession for animals #her and my sister were like sudden bffs it was hilarious. my brother and younger cousin ate at 2:40 and slept upstairs till 6:00 #and all we did was turn of the light and put on a fan for em lol. crack up at how comfortable they were #me and my lil sister were walking up and down the driveway talking and looking at the stars. the nap duo were pointing out constellations #when most everyone left it was my household and my sister and her bf. she played uno flip and incoherent with me (usually no one does lol)#and we laughed very hard at all of the adult cards. one of the hints she gave for sidechicks was ‘sad used to have a lot of these’ and #I immediately got it. it was fun. we blasted music from the 2000’s and ate bread #I slept for 11 hours that night lmao and I was tired the next day but I wouldn’t have changed it. I like them lots #it’s days like that that make me think I’m more extroverted than introverted. just because I don’t always know what to say doesn’t mean #I don’t like to talk yn? anyways I’m writing a novel in the tags but I don’t care <3 I just love us and I wish #other people were able to have love and fun times often #I hope this doesn’t sound like me bragging about my home life. trust me I know it’s not some shining light in the darkness or whatever #but it’s something. and I don’t mind sharing my love with other people

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#Oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri fanfic #Oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formual one oneshot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #honeywrites #op81

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