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dei-lab-assistant · 11 months

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Nothing Builds a Friendship Like a Crisis (part 3)

Co-written with multifandoms27 Summary: Kaiba hired you to assist Mokuba as he performed his monthly inspection of the local, Domino City branch of Kaiba Land. Unfortunately, Mokuba was kidnapped before your eyes, and now there's nothing left to do but talk to Kaiba about what happened. Dub canon plus a version of DSOD. Female Reader. Set maybe two years post DSOD. Fun fact: I always write my Reader character with personality and specific description. Each reader character also has a specific place in the Yu-Gi-Oh world, and is basically an OC with set connections and feelings about the various canon characters and other reader characters. This is reader B, who is immune to the siren song of romance, cheap, eccentric, logical, and hands-on. Word count: 2,217 You can read part 1 here. You can read part 2 here. The next minutes were a blur of worrying about Mokuba, security men asking questions, and being hustled through staff-only sections of the park. After the third round of debriefing, in the second nondescript meeting room, you wished with all your heart there was a way to help instead of repeating yourself to various Kaiba Corp employees. But there was nothing you could do. You had helplessly watched as men kidnapped Mokuba, and nothing had changed since then—you were still unable to act, stuck in a state of frustration, failure, and misery. By the time you were brought to Kaiba’s office, you braced yourself for his anger. It was almost welcome. If one more soft spoken individual kindly told you that everything would be alright, the situation was under control, but would you mind answering a few questions… You hated being lied to, and all the comforting fabrications from total strangers were grating on your frayed nerves.

As the door closed behind you, you took a deep breath. You imagined running away. Each step towards Kaiba felt like a bad idea. Since the plush green carpet ate up the sound of your footsteps, the room was silent but for the urgent clacking of the keyboard as the company president steadfastly ignored you. It had been a long time since you had been here—and back then, Mokuba was filling in as the company president. Another step. Behind Kaiba, light flooded in from the windows making up the entire back wall of the office. Step again. Nestled up against the left wall was a table with a detailed model of Kaiba Land, which you remembered Mokuba showing you the night you had been here last. Step. You couldn’t think about Mokuba now. Step. You needed to stay focused, present, involved. You reached the desk. Kaiba had his laptop out beside his desktop monitor, switching back and forth between the two machines. He never looked up from his screens. You hated to interrupt, so for over a minute You stood in silence, watching his fingers fly over the keys. But if he told his men to bring you here, he must have wanted to see you, or at least chew you out. “You wanted to talk to me?” “In a moment.” Kaiba kept his eyes buried in his monitor, as you took a wider stance and clasped your hands behind your back. Eventually, he asked, “How do you feel?” What?! You thought you could count on Kaiba to not ask about your emotions—they weren’t something you wanted to talk about. “Worried. Guilty.” At last, Kaiba looked up in exasperation, “I meant physically. You were drugged, after all.” “I feel… well enough. What do you mean, ‘I was drugged?’” Kaiba reached into a cardboard box perched on the corner of his desk, and pulled out a clear plastic cup containing neon green liquid. He all but slammed the cup down on the polished wood, “Lab results show trace amounts of a rather expensive medical concoction in your drink.” “But… how? When could someone have slipped drugs into my slushy?” “This was from Bishop?” You nodded. “Yeah, and I didn’t set it down until after Mokuba left. So there’s no way anyone could have—” “I don’t have time for your naivete. Bishop drugged you.” “Wha—Why? He was always so nice to me….” Your mind reeled. No one had ever betrayed you before, but it was the simplest explanation. And you had seen three men leave the tunnel and fly off in the helicopter. “I’m sure he wanted two of the guards to stay behind with you.” Kaiba had resumed typing, although he was moving slower now, giving half his attention to you. “Kaiba, I’m really sorry. I should have stayed with Mokuba—” “And what would you have done? Got yourself shot like the other guard with my brother?” “Shot?!”

Kaiba glanced at you, “Consider yourself lucky Bishop only drugged you.” “Is he dead?” “No, but he’s in the hospital.” Kaiba almost sounded, for a fraction of a second, like he regretted his employee being in such a state. But he kept working, acting like the conversation was a secondary concern. “How did Bishop stop the roller coaster?” Your mind had been mulling over the question of stopping the cars ever since the incident. “He carried a localized field which blocked power to the brakes and triggered their failsafe, causing them to lock up until Bishop left the area.” “That’s impossible. You can’t dampen electricity like that. An EMP might have knocked the power offline, but then the cars would have been stuck there.” “It’s possible. My stepfather sold designs for such a device to the military.” You crossed your arms, “Fine, but no one would have access to those designs, much less the device itself.” “Despite my efforts, there’s still old Kaiba Corp tech scattered across the globe, and not exclusively in the US military.” “Seriously?” You supposed even Kaiba couldn’t always buy his way out of other men’s contracts. “But in this case,” Kaiba switched to his laptop, “an unauthorized individual accessed those files internally. Probably Bishop.” “He’s a hacker?” “Or his boss is, and Bishop followed his instructions in order to steal the plans, as well as several other, more recent files related to Solid Vision.” “I would have thought that was impossible too.” “Almost impossible. The bypass was impressive. I’ve been rebuilding the system’s security protocols from scratch this week, but the damage was already done.” Silence fell again, and you wondered if the conversation was over. You were tired. Shoving your hands into your pockets, you asked, “Am I still going to need to talk to the police after this?” “Why would you talk to the police?” Kaiba stopped typing and stared at you with genuine curiosity. “Because I watched your little brother get kidnapped!” “I know, but what do the police have to do with it?” “Well, yeah, okay, it’s probably the FBI’s job, and not the local police, but you know what I mean.” You were rarely sarcastic, but there was no reason for Kaiba to be so pedantic. To your surprise, Kaiba stopped typing, leaned forward on his elbows, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I thought Mokuba explained our situation to you.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You were more confused than angry. Kaiba sighed. “I’m sure you’ve heard that the super rich can do whatever they want?” “Yeah, but I’ve never believed it.” “It would be more accurate to say that we can do whatever we want, to those in our league.” You stared blankly.

“If a corporation kidnapped a random child, the government would intervene on behalf of the kid, but they won’t interfere with something like this. I’m expected to use my own resources to rescue Mokuba, or take revenge on his kidnappers—whatever I want, so long as the perpetrator is playing the same game. And of course, there’s always the possibility for further retaliation from the other side.” You grasped desperately for words. “This is…” Kaiba had ripped aside the curtain, revealing a view of the world you were never supposed to see. “Where does this leave someone like me?” “Employees of Kaiba Corp are under my protection. Any of my rivals who bothered or harmed my people would know to expect retribution. And of course, we’re careful not to harm unrelated… civilians.” Kaiba paused, as though questioning his choice of words, then continued. “If someone like Pegasus grievously hurt one of your sisters, then the government might get involved, and the whole thing could drag out in a multi-year legal battle. No one wants that.” “And where do I fit into this?” It felt like you had tumbled into a dangerous world running parallel to your own. “You?” Kaiba leaned back in his chair, “Right now, you’re an edge case. Although your decisions today will plant you squarely in, or out, of the game.” You wondered what decisions Kaiba was talking about, but didn’t feel ready to ask about them. “So, why would Bishop do something like this? Shouldn’t he be on your team?” “Until last year, Bishop worked for Knightly Rook. When he applied here, he said he didn’t respect his boss, and wanted to work for someone with real power. But now, I know he never left his previous employer.” Kaiba smirked, “The man will regret crossing me.” “Knightly Rook kidnapped Mokuba? Why on earth would they do that?” “The company has been pestering me to meet with their president for months now. Apparently, they won’t accept that I refuse to collaborate with talentless hacks.” “And their president thought kidnapping Mokuba would enable him to win you over? The man is a moron.” “He thinks he can use this to prove he’s better than me.” Kaiba aggressively struck a few keys on his keyboard and swung around his desktop monitor to show a paused video. A graying redhead with a roguish grin and playful green eyes stared out of the screen—the president of Knightly Rook, Reginald O’Malley. Wearing a silky black shirt and perfectly tailored matching suit, the man looked more professional than Kaiba; and his mahogany tie and cane added an extra smidge of respectability. As the video resumed, the camera slowly zoomed in on his face. “I tried to play nice, Mr. Kaiba, I really did. We could have built something grand together.” From behind his desk, Kaiba snorted at the assertion.

“Alas, I could handle your refusals,” the video continued, “but your spurious claims that my company is nothing but pathetic puffery were an affront to my pride, sir.” Twirling his cane with practiced ease, the man continued. “And as you can see, I’m ready to challenge you, to show the world it is Seto Kaiba who should be pitied, as I rip from your inhospitable grip everything you hold dear.” You had heard O‘Malley many times, but never like this—with menace lurking behind each cheerfully delivered word. Although as his threat grew more obvious, some of the cheeriness fell away. “But of course, I propose a fair match, Mr. Kaiba, me and my Queen, against you and yours.” O’Malley switched to a mocking tone, “And worry not, I am aware you are a pathetic man, who has never known the sweet joys of a female companion, but I speak metaphorically.” You and Kaiba shared an annoyed look at the assertion of singleness being equal to patheticness. The video continued, “I am the black king, you are the white king, and each of us shall bring our strongest piece with us into symbolic battle via your favorite game. The stakes are high, and poor, young Mokuba awaits his dear older brother.” O’Malley chuckled, “The black king has made the first move, what will you do next, Mr. Kaiba?” Kaiba paused the video and rotated his screen back to its usual position as you asked, “I thought white always made the first move in Chess?” “Correct. But apparently he overlooked that detail when composing his speech.” Kaiba crossed his arms. “Will you be my tag-duel partner against this imbecile?” You were caught off guard by Kaiba’s question, delivered without preamble, “Shouldn’t you ask Yugi to be your partner for this duel?” An image of Mokuba suffering because you lost surfaced in your imagination, only to be ruthlessly shoved away; you needed to stay focused on the conversation. Kaiba stared at the top of his desk, “Yugi’s in New York, and we’re on the clock.” The last time you had agreed to help Kaiba, the two of you had ended up scrubbing floors in Pegasus’s castle, which felt like nothing compared to what was at stake today—Mokuba’s safety. “Why choose me?” You trusted Kaiba to give you an honest answer. “I’m not the strongest duelist around.” “You care about Mokuba almost as much as I do.” Kaiba’s mask of impassivity slipped, an almost childish desperation in his eyes. “And I trust you.” Having tasted betrayal for the first time today, you understood the value of his declaration. Your mind splintered into factions, wanting to accept his offer, arguing other candidates would be a better choice than you, screaming to take action, whispering that joining Kaiba on this venture could cost you a great deal—your privacy and anonymity, your safety, your right to be excluded from these power games. But your friend was asking for help, and your almost-a-little-brother needed you to rescue him. The seconds of confusion ended. You planted your hands on the edge of the desk and leaned towards Kaiba. “I’m in. But not as an employee, or a subordinate. As friends. Equals.” Kaiba stared into your eyes, as though seeking your resolve. “Very well.” “Also, you know that outfit you had made for me last year that matched yours? I wore it to Pegasus’s party to help you try and win a bet?” “Of course.” “Do you still have that? ‘Cause if we’re gonna play this guy’s stupid game, I want to lean into the aesthetic while we trounce him.” A smile tugged at the edges of Kaiba’s mouth. “I’ll see what I can do. Here.” Reaching into the cardboard box again, he handed you the deck box you had left in a locker back at Kaiba Land. “You’ll need this.” Part 4

#Seto Kaiba x Reader #Yu-Gi-Oh #Seto Kaiba #Yugioh DM #My content

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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

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

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what is this about?”

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

“Complaints?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?! Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“This is her.”

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

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

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

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

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

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With who?”

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

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

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

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we��ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Silent

Summary: People think you talk too much so you fall silent.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, Avengers x Reader (platonic)

Characters: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers

Warnings: angst, self-doubts, the reader used to talk too much and now she’s silent, mentions of torture/imprisonment/experiments, comforting, fluff

“Does she always have to talk so much? I can’t believe someone can hold a speech over pancakes. Is she never tired of hearing her own voice?” Standing in the doorframe of the common room you clasp one hand over your mouth.

You believed Bucky enjoyed your conversations. Since he moved in two months ago you tried to be a friend, a companion he can talk to when Steve is not around.

Never in your worst nightmares would you have imagined Bucky could be annoyed by your small talk.

“Listen, Buck. She likes to talk about a things, maybe explains too much but that’s part of her personality.” Clint chuckles at Sam's words.

“You mean she can chew your ear off about her latest shopping trip.”

“Barton, that’s not funny. Y/N tried to explain how credit cards and electronic article surveillance work to him. Last time he went shopping he got lost, didn’t know how to pay.” Sam throws in. “Maybe it was a long conversation, but Y/N meant well.”

“I know, Sam.” Clint sighs. “Sometimes she just won’t stop. I had to fake to go to the restrooms last time.”

“Guys, seriously. Stop talking shit! Y/N is not talking too much. Only as men tend to only grunt or throw ten words per day at each other doesn’t mean a girl talks too much.”

Natasha slams her fist onto the kitchen counter. “She’s kind, nice, and smart. All Y/N tried was to help Barnes.”

“Exactly.” Wanda purses her lips, glaring at Clint. She’s challenging the archer. Daring him to say another word about you. “Now back to breakfast. Who’s on duty?”

No one recognized you entered and left the room after Wanda started to make breakfast for everyone…

“Did you finish the latest report?” Tony’s question brings you out of your thoughts. He’s looking at you, assuming you will tell him every little detail but all you do is nod before you hand him a manila folder. “No explanations?”

“We were all there, I wrote nothing not everyone witnessed. Report ending.” Steve cocks a brow at your short answer. Usually, you mention details but today, you barely spoke twenty words.

Natasha watches you cautiously while Clint leans back, enjoying you didn’t ask questions or explained things he already knew.

“Okay. Great, Y/N. Next point, our yearly charity gala is due in a week. I hope everyone bought a nice dress and for gents, a nice suit.” All eyes land on you.

Normally you describe your new dress, the shoes, even your hairstyle, but again, you simply nod.

“Got a dress. Mission accomplished.” Now Wanda searches your face but you block her powers, giving her a shake of your head. “If that’s all, I got places to be.”

“Don’t we have another report from you and …” Tony trails off when you get up. “Y/N?”

“Everything you need to know is in the folder. If you have questions, ask Jarvis.” Taken aback Tony nods, glancing at the folder you push against his chest.

“Something wrong, darling?” Giving Tony a cracked smile you shake your head.

He doesn’t need to know what you heard. You know, as the person bringing you into the team, Tony sees you as his little sister and would do anything to make you feel comfortable.

“I am great, Tons, don’t worry. I’ll check on a few files at my office if you need anything.” When you walk toward the door you feel eight pairs of eyes follow you. “I won’t make it to the movie night, though. Have fun.”

You are gone before Tony can ask you again if anything is wrong. “What was that? Usually, she won’t go without explaining every detail.” Tony’s eyes meet Steve’s but he’s as clueless as Tony.

“I don’t know. I was on a mission with Bruce and Maria.” Steve looks around the room, tries to make out if anyone knows anything. “Anyone knows what’s wrong with Y/N?”

“I got no clue, Steve. A few days ago, we talked for hours but over the last days Y/N barely said ten words. Her answers are always short, precise.” Natasha looks at Wanda who tries to avoid eye contact.

“Wanda?” Sam’s brows furrow when the redhead tries to sneak out of the room. “What do you know?”

“I know nothing, I swear. I…I recognized Y/N is different for a few days and tried to look into her…head.” Shrugging Wanda tries to explain why she wanted to break her own rule to never read her teammate's minds.

“She blocked me for the first time during our meeting. All I could see or rather feel was hurting and then she pushed me out.”

“Crap, Cap. Any ideas?” Steve sighs when everyone looks at him.

“Not to rhyme badly would be a start, Sam.” Sam glares at Clint who tried to lighten the mood with a joke. “Sorry, go ahead…”

“I will try to talk to Y/N. Something must be wrong as she’s always bubbly and friendly. Today, Y/N was a different person and I do not like it one bit.” Tony exclaims. “Maybe Barnes could talk to her? She seems to like him.”

“Me?” Bucky coughs, tries to not get involved in anything involving conversations. “Why? I am not good at talking to people. Steve is your man.”

“Buck, she talked to you for hours. Y/N tried to make you feel welcome and help you at the same time. I know she sometimes talks a bit too much but…”

Natasha gasps at Steve’s words. Her eyes meet Wanda’s and they suddenly know why you refuse to talk to your friends.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck, Sam!” Now Sam slams his fist onto the table, glaring at Clint.

“She heard what you said that morning! This is your fucking fault, Barnes!” Raising his hands in surrender Clint tries to stay out of the conflict.

“Don’t act innocently, Barton! You said she talks too much!” Wanda grabs Clint’s ear, tugging harshly. “You’ll apologize, both!”

“You said what and she heard…” Steve clears his throat before he gets up to glare at his friend.

“I know you are not much of a talker Buck, but she tries so hard to talk to you. Y/N only offered her friendship and you just messed everything up.”

“Let me talk to her, Capsicle. I don’t think she wants to see Barton or Barnes for a while. At least around me, she can talk as much as she wants to.” Tony sighs deeply. “Do you know why she’s talking so much?”

“No.” Bucky snaps at Tony. “As she likes to do so?”

“I found her, in a cell during a mission years ago. Our fine government wanted to create a super-soldier like Steve and you. They took blood samples, DNA. All this time, she was not allowed to talk or ask questions. If she did, they hurt her.”

Bucky feels like someone just pushed a knife into his guts.

“They electrocuted her, hit her, did awful things. When I found her, she wouldn’t talk. I thought she’s mute. It took months before I heard the first word leave her lips. I nearly got a heart attack when she called my name.”

“I…” Jumping up, nearly breaking his chair Bucky stumbles toward the door. “I got to talk to her. I need to apologize and all…”

“Doll?” Bucky enters your office. Head hung low, eyes not daring to meet yours he sighs deeply. “’m so sorry, darling.”

“Can I help you with anything, Sergeant?” Your eyes are glued to your monitor when Bucky walks toward your desk.

Normally you would jump up, drag him toward the cozy couch in the corner and tell him about your day, or ask him about his.

“I came to apologize for what I said. I…I am so sorry, Y/N.” When you meet his gaze Bucky can see your red eyes. You must’ve cried the whole time you spend in your office. “You can talk as much as you want to, doll.”

“I will shorten my conversations from now on. It’s unnecessary to tell you about my day, clothes, or stupid cat videos on YouTube. I know that.” Bucky grasps for your hand, kissing it repeatedly.

One moment he kisses the back of your hand and the next he picks you up to carry you toward the couch, making you yelp.

“No…no, doll. I like those videos. That one with the cat hunting the hedgehog was hilarious. That furry guy even tried to jump on the hedgehogs back.”

Giggling you look at Bucky. “Tell me about the next thing I should check on YouTube.”

“Dude, there was this guy, taping his eyebrows and then…” Looking at you in his arms Bucky hums while you tell him about the guy ruining his eyebrows.

“So, that poor guy has no eyebrows. Tragic.” You snicker at Bucky’s words before you hide your face in his chest.

“What about new cat videos or, this is even more important, tell me about the dress you’ll wear to the charity event.”

“It’s a black Chanel dress, backless and I like it. Don’t tell anyone, but it’s second-hand.” Whispering the words, you poke your finger into Bucky’s chest. “Swear to not tell anyone.”

“I’ll swear to not tell anyone if you agree to be my plus one. I need someone to save me from anyone asking me how it was to be the winter soldier.” Your hand gently pats his cheek, caress the scruffy skin before you move closer to press a soft kiss to his chin.

“Doll, if you tried to kiss me, mission failed, but points for trying. Let me show you how it’s done.” Stunned you feel Bucky’s lips on yours.

He swipes his tongue over the roof of your mouth, and you giggle again. “No laughing! That was a perfect kiss!”

“It was an eight, Bucky but we can try again.” He smirks before his lips are back on yours. This time he devours your mouth and you need to break the kiss to breathe.

“Better. I would say eight point five this time. We are getting closer, Barnes. How about we practice some more?”

“Will you forgive me for being a douche? I want you to talk as much as you want to. Maybe we can go to my room and talk some more.” There is a cheeky smile on his lips when you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Only talking, Sergeant Barnes. I am a good girl…”

“Yeah?” His breathing quickens when you look up at him in awe. “I will make it up to you. Every stupid word I said, doll.

How about we have our private movie night at my room and you can tell me anything about the movie before we even watched it.”

“Deal…”

“Please, never be silent again, Y/N. I hate silence when it involves you not talking.”

Snuggled into a warm blanket. Your head resting onto Bucky’s chest you snore lightly. You didn’t make it through the movie before you fell asleep.

The room is silent. You are not talking but right now, Bucky’s heart swells as you repeatedly muttered his name in your sleep.

“Love you too, doll…”

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moonlit-raven-haven · 4 years

Text

The Past

Where the reader and Harry no longer speak.

This is unedited!

Word Count: Just a bit over 3k

Warnings: angst

A/N: It’s been a minute since I’ve written something...I’m afraid it strays away from Keanu Reeves content though...sorry, but my love for Harry Styles can no longer be contained!

Inspired by the edit below from Instagram :)

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A post shared by 𝕤𝕜𝕪 (@stylessr1) on Oct 2, 2020 at 3:19pm PDT

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It has been several years since Harry left Holmes Chapel, but the small town still held the title of home. His mum, sister, friends, mentors, first job, first love, first heartbreak, and many other people and memories live within the borders of the large village that is Holmes Chapel. But beyond the people and memories he holds close to his heart, the one person that made him miss his quiet life was Y/N; his best friend.

Y/N had been there from the beginning, witnessing all of the important moments in his life. From losing his first baby tooth, to joining One Direction, she never left his side, and he never left hers. The two were inseparable. But time passes, and life changes, even when we want so desperately to grab onto our current lives, wishing that some things will never change.

When Harry joined One Direction, she was thrilled; proud, and happy to see her best friend fulfilling his dreams. And that feeling didn’t stop when he went on his first tour with the band,even if it meant that he would no longer be working with her at W Mandeville bakery, talking in between customers that walked into the shop for their morning coffee and bread. Or that they could no longer see each other daily, cuddled up together on his mum’s couch as they watched reruns of their favorite television shows after finishing hours of schoolwork. But when you’re sixteen years old, you think that friendships last forever.

Y/N and Harry texted and called on a daily basis, only stopping to rest their eyes, sometimes their fingers still wrapped loosely around phones when their eyes finally shut, sometimes soft breathing being heard on the other line. But within months of One Direction’s fame skyrocketing, the texts became more scattered, the time stamps now hours apart from one another, when before they would be within the same minute. The calls went from everyday, to every other day, until eventually they stopped all together, turning into a monthly call to check on one another. The loss of contact was slow, but never quite complete.

Every break Harry would have from his life as a star sent him back to Holmes Chapel where he would embrace his best friend and tell her about all the cool places he traveled to while on tour, the new people, and the new memories he made. And after he would finally give her every detail of his new life, the one she wasn’t a part of, they would bring snacks up to her room, cuddle up, and watch reruns of their favorite television shows into the late hours of the night, finally falling asleep holding on to each other, scared that moments like this would cease to exist, and they did.

It became a tradition of theirs after the first tour. Harry would get home to his mum’s after being gone for months at a time, drop off his bags, eat a meal with Anne and Gemma, and then head off to Y/N’s mum’s house. He would knock on the door only to be greeted by her mom smiling and telling Harry where Y/N was at, and he would practically run to her location, wrapping her in a tight hug that would knock the air out of her lungs. Then her mom would make them tea, and they would find themselves leaning against the kitchen counter with warm mugs in their hands as he told his stories. Once he was tired, or out of stories to tell, they would put their empty and cold mugs in the sink before grabbing snacks from her kitchen, the snacks she would specifically ask her mum to buy for his return, and head up to her room. They would cuddle up together and gorge on snacks before unintentionally falling asleep, wrappers scattered around them as Y/N’s mum walked in and smiled, pulling out her cell to snap a picture and send it to Anne, writing “Seems like Harry is spending the night :)” before hitting send.

By One Direction’s fourth and final tour, things had changed quite a bit. Y/N now had her own flat, where Harry would stay whenever he came to Holmes Chapel, staying at his mum’s house only for a few days before heading back to her place. She had an education she was satisfied with, and had a stable job at a publishing company, working as a successful editor, one of the youngest the company had. Harry had informed her that One Direction split up before the news hit the headlines over a cup of tea, leaning against the counter as they always did when he was gone for long periods of time. There was a comfortable silence as the pair had sipped their tea, Y/N allowing Harry to gather his thoughts before speaking.

“I dunno love…I reckon I’m upset about the band breaking up...but maybe it’s a good thing for us y’know?...” Harry trailed off when his eyes got misty, earning a small frown from the girl that was next to him as she put her mug down and wrapped her arms around his waist, careful not to knock his cup of tea out of his hands. Harry couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face in that moment despite the emotion that had overcome him. He put the mug down next to her own and wrapped his arms tightly around Y/N, breathing in her scent when he rested his chin on her head. She was home to him, bringing him comfort even when it seemed things weren’t going well.

“Maybe I can start a solo career...release music I want...have m’own tours...have you by my side...traveling the world together.” Harry had said with the small upturn of his lips as he swayed them side to side in the small kitchen.

“You would want that?...For me to travel the world with you?” Y/N’s voice was muffled by the soft fabric of his sweatshirt as her face was pressed against his chest. She swayed side to side with him, the movement coming naturally, not being forced by Harry, but rather being brought on by the comfort he brings her.

“O’course I would want that love...it’s always gonna be you and I against the world…”’ He has said softly, being content with the feeling of the warmth radiating off her body and onto his as they held each other in the comfort of their home, swaying side to side to the sound of raindrops hitting the window. But that was five years ago, and where things had gone wrong is still a mystery.

-*-*-*-

Y/N is at work, editing a book for the company’s newest client when she receives a text from Anne. Being in the sanctuary of her own private office, she picks up the phone and smiles at the text.

Anne: Come over for dinner with Gem and I? xx

Y/N: I’ll see you tonight! :)

She types up a quick reply and hits send before setting her phone to the side and focusing her eyes back on the unedited manuscript in front of her. But her mind seems to have other plans, wandering back to him. It has been five years since Y/N has seen or talked to Harry, and she wishes that the ache in her heart will leave, and as time passes, she no longer feels a sharp pain in her heart, but rather a dull pain; a dull ache of longing, longing to see and speak to her best friend again.

She still speaks to Anne and Gemma, seeing them as part of her family. When the first meeting with them occurred a few months after Harry was gone from Y/N’s life, they had asked her what happened between the two, recalling memories of Harry and Y/N from their younger days. The memories made Y/N’s chest tighten as she let out a small laugh, simply shrugging her shoulders as the conversation moved forward, leaving Y/N with a bitter taste in her mouth as she hid the ache in her heart with a smile. That was five years ago.

-*-*-*-

After her shift Y/N gathers her belongings from her desk, deciding to take the Manuscript with her as she has fallen behind due to her wandering thoughts. She puts everything in a brown satchel, one Harry had given her a few months prior to the departure of their friendship, delicately closing the bag and running her fingers over her initials engraved onto the leather with lettering that resembles that of vines. She smiles at the memory that floods her mind.

“Surprise!” Harry had shouted as he practically ran into the flat that he shared with Y/N when he was home. He dropped his bags by the door, going towards their shared room and bed...the one they shared as “friends.” She jumped slightly at the slam of the door and Harry’s voice shouting through the small flat, having been reading a book in bed moments before the loud interruption. But despite being startled and having her attention diverted from the book at hand, she couldn’t help but grin as she got up from the bed and made her way out of their room as fast as her legs could carry her.

Upon reaching the hallway she crashed into Harry, losing her balance momentarily before feeling her feet float through the air, and she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in her throat as Harry set her on the ground again, bringing her into his arms and holding her as closely as possible.

“Got a small break from the tour...m’glad you have the day off...now I get to see your beautiful face all day.” Harry had teased as he let go of her, his dopey grin adoring his features despite the bag under his eyes from the jet lag, and his hair being tossed up in five different directions from having slept on the flight. Y/N had laughed and hit his chest gently.

“I gotta be pretty for two since you seem to look like a girl who just got dumped.” She teased back as she made her way towards the kitchen. “Ready for tea?” She questioned him as she pulled out their two favorite mugs and set them on the counter, eager to continue their tradition even if he hadn’t been gone as long this time around.

“Mmm…not yet, love, I got ya a gift.” Harry hummed as he walked back to the door, and picked up a rather large gift bag before he headed back to the kitchen where Y/N raised her eyebrow at him.

“This is new...m’afraid I didn’t get you anything though...shoulda warned me about gift giving…” She mumbled as she watched Harry set the bag on the counter.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, love. It’s a one time thing...plus, I just felt like spoiling ya this one time.” Harry had said, the smile on his face never leaving. “Open it.”

Y/N pulled the large gift bad towards her across the counter, Harry watching her face with admiration and nervousness, hoping she would like the gift. She pulls off the various pieces of tissue paper from the top that were hiding a…

“Harry...it’s gorgeous!” Y/N had said with an excited upturn of her lips as she pulled out a brown leather satchel. She sets it on the counter next to the gift bags and mugs for tea. She runs her fingers over the material, her smile becoming wider as she feels her engraved initials, vines adoring the letters. Harry let’s put a soft breath he was unaware that was trapped in his lungs from nerves, but despite the breath he released, his smile gets even wider.

“‘M so glad you like it Y/N...thought it would be useful for work…plus you’ll seem like even more of a nerd at work, editing your big manuscripts.” Harry teased as he walked over to the stove and turned the kettle on.

“Thank you Harry.” She had said giddily, a smile plastered on her face as she stored the satchel back in the bag before hugging her as tightly as she could, and he embraced her, just as tightly before pulling away. She leaned against the counter as usual and waited for the kettle to sound.

“O’course, love…so last month I was in Spain and…” And just like they went back to their usual routine.

Y/N smiles fondly at the memory, glad she has great memories with him, even if she feels a dull ache in her heart whenever she thinks of him.

-*-*-*-

The drive to Anne’s was filled by Y/N’s loud stereo and singing of the songs she knew. It wasn’t the same without Harry by her side, and despite five years passing, she missed him singing every song perfectly and teasing her for her off key notes. She would roll her eyes at him and take one hand off the steering wheel, gently flicking his arm before resting it back on the wheel in front of her. Harry would laugh and shake his head at her actions, before continuing to sing.

Y/N turns onto Anne’s street, seeing the familiar house she used to spend so much time in, opting to park out on the street, but as she’s about to turn off her car, she hear the familiar beat of a song, his song, and she can’t bring herself to turn the radio off. As the opening lines of “Adore You” begin to play, she finds herself smiling and quietly singing to the song. Despite not hearing from or seeing him in five years, she couldn’t help but still feel proud of the man she had called her best friend for so long. He had worked hard to get to his current status in the music industry, and it finally paid off.

She remembered when she heard his first album, listening to it the same day it was released; it had been two years since they spoke, but her heart was filled with joy. The music had flowed gently through her new flat, her previous residence filled with too many good memories of her and Harry that made her reminisce on what used to be. She had listened to every word he sang so intently it almost had felt as if he was with her, singing songs for her like he used to. But three years later now, she has refused to listen to his newest album, “Fine Line,” afraid that perhaps it would wake up the memories and the ache that she had done so well of burying deep within her.

So deep in thought, Y/N had barely noticed that the song had faded out, now replaced by advertisements and a talk show. She sighed softly, disappointed that her mind had drifted off to him again, it seemed to be something that was more consistent. Slowly she turns off the ignition to her car, setting the keys in the brown satchel in the passenger's seat before climbing out of her car. She closes the door gently and goes around to the passengers side, opening the door and pulling the brown satchel out, Y/N swings it over her shoulder and closes the door, locking the door and heading to Anne’s house.

Y/N walks up the path and knocks in the door, shifting her weight from left to right as she hears some shuffling behind the door before Anne opens the door, smiling brightly.

“Y/N! Come in please! It’s freezing out there.” Anne beckons the girl inside, closing the door behind them as they enter the place that once was like a second home to Y/N. Upon hearing Anne usher Y/N inside, Gemma emerges from the kitchen and grins, engulfing her in a wide hug.

“Gosh how I’ve missed ya! Don’t be a stranger, Y/N.” Gemma exclaims as she pulls away from their embrace. Y/N nods and smiles at the pair as the three of them head over to the table Anne and Gemma have already set up with food and the necessary utensils. Y/N sets her satchel on the corner of the chair she is currently sat on, carrying an easy conversation with Anne and Gemma despite the memories that flooded her mind. Harry would usually be sat next to Y/N, the pair sitting across from Anne and Gemma as they all told stories from their lives away from one another. She remembers how Harry would steal food off of her plate, pretend that he didn’t, and then proceed to share whatever dessert Anne made for them.

After dinner, Y/N offers to wash the dishes as Anne and Gemma go to set up the board games for the game night they usually hold after their meal. She’s washing the final dish when she hears a knock on the door, something rather unusual for the time of day, but she decided to ignore it; perhaps Gemma had invited a date, or a neighbor was in need of some sugar. Y/N begins to rinse the dish as she hears soft footsteps make their way across the living room and the click of locks coming undone before the door opens without a sound. The dish is now rinsed, and just as Y/N puts it on the drying rack, the grip her hands once held to hold the dish is gone, and she feels her heartbeat pick up in a way that’s barely noticeable.

“Hey mum...so sorry I’m late, m’flight got delayed due to the rain that was expected...no sight of it yet though…” The voice was muffled due to the space from the main entrance to the kitchen, but she could recognize it anywhere. It’s the voice that has signified home for years, now one that she hasn’t heard in person for years. Five years to be exact. It’s his voice...Harry’s voice.

-*-*-*-

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this! It’s my first time writing Harry in YEARS.

-*-*-*-

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mysterioushogwartsrequests · 4 years

Note

Hey i wanted to ask if you could write a reader x fred fic where they learn about the mirror of erised in class and then the reader has to step in front of it to say what they see and they say smth like "fred could you step aside" or "could you get out of the frame, you are in the way" and it turns out he wasn't even close to being in the mirrors view and so they just announced that their deepest desire is fred, ik it's very specific but please🥺❤

I’ve actually been thinking about writing something like this so I am very glad you sent this in!!! And, honestly, really specific requests are always welcome because I know exactly what you all want! I love any request you send my way :).

Title: The Desired Slip-Up

ϟ ϟ ϟ

Fred and George’s Sixth Year at Hogwarts had already started off with a bang. The announcement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament had everyone in high spirits, and they all waited impatiently for the Winter holiday celebrations. Sure, they were dealing with an unpleasant scammer by the name of Ludo Bagman, but the Twins were certain they would get their way eventually.

Like any other year, Fred continued his usual school-yard scheming with his brother, occasionally stopping to view the petrifying tasks of the Tri-Wizard Tournament where Harry Potter managed to avoid the clutches of an irritated Hungarian Horntail. Despite having excellent marks, the Twins often found themselves bored with the courses at Hogwarts and were often discussing ways to avoid attending them. However, the possibility of their mother finding out about their misbehavior urged Fred and George, despite their grievances, to attend their classes.

Professor Moody currently held the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and often introduced unorthodox items in his teachings. Well, what could really be considered unorthodox at a school for Magic?

On a particularly cold Novembers’ day, Fred sauntered into the classroom, tailed by his brother, and at once caught sight of the ornate mirror at the front of the room. The students were gathered around each other’s desks, exchanging whispers as to what the mirror could do. Waiting for his students to settle, Professor Moody rapped his fingers against his desk, his blue eye ardently scanning the room as two more girls trailed in.

Fred and George took their usual seats at the center, roughly setting down his belongings behind Angelina Johnson, who turned to face the noise with a hint of annoyance.

“Making sure everyone hears you arrive?” She asked teasingly, swinging her legs over the empty space beside her.

“You know us, Angelina-” replied George with a thumbs up

“Always putting on a show” finished Fred, shooting his friend a wink before acknowledging the empty seat, “And (Y/N)?” asked Fred, earning a shrug from Angelina. However, before Fred could ask anything else, Mad-Eye Moody rose from his seat and tapped the edge of the mirror with his wand, effectively silencing the class.

“Now, I’ve prepared a very special lesson for you lot and I expect your undivided attention” Moody declared, his good eye trained on Fred Weasley, who was doodling product designs on a spare bit of parchment. George, noticing Mad-Eye’s intense stare, jabbed Fred’s side and gestured for him to look forward.

Begrudgingly setting his quill down, Fred rested his cheek against his palm as Mad-Eye cleared the first row of desks nearest to the mirror. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in Mad-Eye’s teachings, Fred just found it rather difficult to concentrate when he was plagued by thoughts of (Y/N)’s absence. Although (Y/N) (L/N) was quite the prankster herself, she was not one to miss classes, especially if the Professor was known for dealing out harsh punishments if he caught you.

“I want a nice, clean line facing the mirror” Mad-eye announced, gesturing towards the empty space he had cleared, “This isn’t your ordinary, everyday mirror so don’t let me catch you fixing your hair and makeup in front of it” He warned, eyeing the group of giggling girls lining up beside him. With a sigh, Fred pushed himself off his seat and followed George and Angelina towards the front of the class, gaze trained out the window as he wondered what it would feel like to fly through the cold-wind at this very moment.

Paying no attention to the lesson, Fred narrowed his eyes at the shape whizzing meters from the window. “Is that a person? Flying towards the castle?” he thought, subtly inching towards the glass to get a better glimpse of the robed figure, but they had already vanished. Scratching his head, Fred directed his attention towards Mad-Eye Moody, who was pointing at the calligraphy above the mirror which read:

“Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi” or “I show not your face, but your heart’s desire” as Mad-Eye translated.

“When you look into this mirror,” Mad-Eye began, stepping in front of the line so the students could only see his reflection, “You will see what your heart most desperately desires, but be careful” He added with a wicked grin, his eyes trained on his reflection, “Some of you may go mad if you stare for too long…”

Fred eyed Moody suspiciously, it seemed like he himself was transfixed with what he currently viewed in the mirror, only stepping away after giving his head vigorous shake. Bearing the same wicked smile, Professor Moody gestured towards the mirror, “Any volunteers?” he asked nonchalantly, but the prospect of going mad spooked the usual eagerness to participate out of his students. The Sixth years looked around at each other, trying to see who would be brave enough to face the Mirror of Erised.

At that moment, the door to the classroom slammed open and the sound of running footsteps filled the room. Gasping for air, (Y/N) (L/N) looked up at Professor Moody with disheveled robes and a broomstick gripped in her right hand, her satchel hanging loosely over her shoulder as she set her broom against the wall.

“Professor, I am so sorry. I lost track of time while at the Quidditch Pitch and—” but Professor Moody cut off her rambling excuses with a swift raise of his hand.

“As a result of your tardiness,” Moody growled, his good eye trained on (Y/N) as the other whizzed from her broom and back to her, “And flying around the grounds without permission” he added and (Y/N) bowed her head in shame, setting her satchel down beside Angelina’s before walking towards the front of the classroom.

“You will be the first to demonstrate the effects of the Mirror of Erised,” Moody finished, his eyes glinting with anticipation as he urged her in front of the mirror, “I’ve already explained what the mirror does, but unfortunately, you were late so you will find out on your own” he explained, looking back at the group of students behind him, “And none of you runts will tell her, got it?”As he snapped, a couple of frightened Ravenclaw girls nodded intensely causing Fred to roll his eyes for the third time in the hour.

Feeling increasingly nervous, (Y/N) looked towards Angelina with a sheepish smile, then towards the Weasley Twins. George shot her encouraging thumbs-up, but Fred only grinned at her, urging her forwards while mouthing, “This is your punishment.” She and Fred had not always been great friends, she actually despised him during their second year when a balloon full of ink fell on top of her head, spilling its contents all over her new robes. Despite being increasingly furious that day, (Y/N) found herself laughing at the prank after Professor Flitwick removed the stains of her clothes and Professor McGonagall scolded the Twins in the middle of the Courtyard. After seeing the embarrassed looks on their faces, (Y/N) went up to them and declared the beginning of a prank-war, therefore igniting the first flames of the friendship.

At the end of their second year, (Y/N) was crowned Prank Champion, complete with a parchment crown and colorful ribbon Lee Jordan had prepared for the winner. The summer after that, the Twins invited (Y/N) over to The Burrow where they spent the hot months of July playing Quidditch in a clearing and enjoying Mrs. Weasley’s delightful cooking. It was not until the 1994 Quidditch World Cup that (Y/N) realized her feelings towards Fred were more than friendship. She often recalled the late-night talks they would share in the Astronomy Tower, neglecting the homework they promised they would do that evening. But she really couldn’t help it, Fred was so easy-going that it was no arduous task to get lost in conversation with him. Now, they were in their Sixth year and she had collected an assortment of sweaters gifted to her by Molly Weasley, as well as many joke-shop prototypes from Fred and George.

With the announcement of the Yule Ball, (Y/N) immediately imagined herself in a beautiful gown, circling a ballroom with Fred Weasley at her side. As she stepped up to the mirror, she took a deep breath with her eyes closed, the image of Fred’s infectious smile fresh in her memory as she opened her eyes.

Well, it was not difficult for her to imagine Fred’s wide grin because it was staring right back at her, standing beside her with a singular rose extended towards her. Blinking rapidly, (Y/N) leered at the mirror, stepping towards it with her eyebrows furrowed, frustrated by Fred’s overconfident grin shooting towards her.

As the minutes passed, her annoyance only grew. Not only did she not know what the mirror was supposed to show, but she also had Fred’s playful gaze trained onto her. With a large huff, (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest and moved towards the right, trying to cover Fred’s presence in the mirror.

“Something the matter?” coughed Mad-Eye, whipping the droplets of his drink away from his face and stuffing his flask into his robe pocket, “Tell us what you see.”

Without taking her eyes off the mirror, (Y/N) clicked her tongue in frustration, “I really can’t see anything with Fred in the way,” she admitted, “Can you get out the way? You’ve been grinning at me like a mad man”

Fred registered George’s snort of laughter beside him, his ears flushing red as he replayed (Y/N)’s words in his head, “(Y/N), sweetheart” he spoke up, raising his hand up in the air to show how far back in the line he was, “I’m over here, love. How could I possibly be blocking your view?” teased Fred, stepping out of the line as (Y/N) whipped around to face him.

With her mouth agape, she locked eyes with Fred and realization dawned on her, it was impossible, Fred was too far away, and he was the only one the mirror was reflecting... She should’ve at least seen the rest of the class or even Mad-Eye!

Turning back towards the mirror, (Y/N) noticed Fred’s smiling face again, but also noticed the green dress robes he was wearing and how she was wearing the most magnificent purple gown she had ever laid eyes on, “I don’t understand” (Y/N) uttered out, turning her head towards Mad-Eye, “I- only see Fred and I… going to the Yule Ball together…” she admitted, lowering her voice as she did so.

“Well, Mrs. (L/N),” Moody began, “The Mirror of Erised shows your heart’s most desperate desire and it seems yours is to be Mr. Weasley’s date,” he said matter-of-factly. (Y/N) blushed furiously at his words, her eyes darting towards the real Fred, who bore the same smile as his reflection. She could verbalize the relief that washed over her when the bell, signaling the end of class, rang and immediately taking the opportunity to bolt out of the classroom, leaving her broomstick in her wake. The rest of the students exchanged whispers as Fred and George exited the classroom, making jokes about what they thought they would see in the mirror.

“Would you like some alone time?” asked George mischievously, handing Fred (Y/N)’s forgotten broom, “I’m sure there’s plenty the two of you should talk about” George then waved his brother off and ran down the corridor to join Angelina.

Fred looked down at the broomstick in his hand, his thumb trailing over the initials she had carved into the wood. A small smile appeared on his face as he caught sight of his own initials in her broomstick, the ones he had carved during the summer after (Y/N) lost the bet at the World Cup. With a newfound sense of courage, Fred strode down the corridor in search of (Y/N), determined to find her before she could hide in her common room.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

(Y/N) halted once she reached the Training Grounds, her hands placed over her knees as she took deep breaths, the crisp, frigid air filling her lungs, “Way to go!” she exclaimed angrily, stomping her heel against the ground out of pure embarrassment. Sinking down onto the snow, (Y/N) covered her face with her hands as she racked her brain for any sort of excuse she could give to Fred, but ultimately came up empty.

“You know,” called a familiar voice behind her, “If you wanted to go to the ball with me, all you had to do was ask…” stated Fred, stepping towards her curled up frame. Jumping at Fred’s words, (Y/N) pushed herself off the ground, wiping the snow off her robes before pointing a finger towards her crush. “Listen here, Fred” she stated defensively, “I-I have a perfectly clear explanation for this…” (Y/N) tried to explain, her voice wavering as he stepped closer to her, the scent of his cologne mixing with the chilly air, effectively weakening her resolve.

“I’m all ears, love” He added, a playful smirk playing at his lips as he stuck out her broomstick, “You forgot this on your way out, it’s nice to see my initials are still there” Fred winked, letting his hand rest above hers as she attempted to retrieve her broom.

“W-Well, I did lose the bet after all” muttered (Y/N), the blush returning to her cheeks as their fingers brushed together.

“And I’m sure you’ll lose this one too” added Fred casually and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him, “What do you mean by that?” she asked cautiously as he laughed.

“Well, I bet that you want to go to the ball with little old me, but you’re too afraid to ask” Fred stated confidently, smiling at the look of shock on (Y/N)’s face. He was not surprised by her reaction, not at all, it was what he had expected to see, to him, she was so easy to read. Fred understood what it meant when she scrunched up her nose during their late-night study sessions, how her leg would bounce underneath the desk when she was itching to go play Quidditch or the cute frown she bore when something did not go her way. It was not difficult to understand that this expression of shock meant he had been right on the mark.

“Am I wrong?” He asked, his hand snaking around her waist, pulling her closer to his taller frame. Closing her mouth, (Y/N) looked down at their closeness and then up at Fred, “You’re not.” she admitted, swallowing her pride for once in her life.

“Then, allow me,” whispered Fred, stepping back, and pulling out his wand before uttering the word, “Orchideous.” At that moment, a large bouquet of roses popped out of the tip of his wand, which Fred then took and dramatically brought himself down to one knee.

Clearing his throat, he raised the flowers up and said, “(Y/N) (L/N), would you do me the utmost honor of accompanying me, Frederic Weasley, to the Yule Ball?” he asked, his grin growing wider than she ever thought possible.

She would be lying if she said she had not imagined this moment playing out in her head, but never thought about it actually happening. However, there was no denying that the real thing felt better than her usual daydreams...

With her heart beating against her rib cage, (Y/N) delicately wrapped her fingers around the bouquet and brought them up to her nose, the intoxicating smell of roses easing her nerves, “I would be delighted to accompany you to the ball, Mr. Weasley” she replied with a grin, slipping her hand into his extended one as he stood up.

“Brilliant,” He whispered, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “But you know, you did lose a bet…” Fred muttered, his thumb trailing over her cheek as a faint tinge of red appeared over them once again.

“Yes, that is true,” (Y/N) admitted with a nod of the head, “I suppose there is something you want me to do?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” added Fred, stepping closer to her, and placing his other hand on her cheek, “I think the winner deserves something sweet” He stated huskily, his face dipping closer to hers, “Don’t you agree?”

(Y/N) nodded, their proximity sucking the air out of her lungs and her blush darkening as their lips brushed against each other, “I do, why don’t you show me then?” she asked teasingly, a smile appearing on her lips as the smirk on Fred’s face grew.

“Alrighty, then” With that, Fred closed the distance between them, one hand cupping her face as the other pulled her towards him by the waist. This, too, was better than anything Fred could’ve daydreamed, and he wondered why it had taken him so long to finally kiss her. He recalled the many occasions he could have kissed her, but never committed to it, afraid she might turn him down to preserve their friendship. But after the altercation in Mad-Eye Moody’s class, he knew there was nothing left to lose.

Fred Weasley had always loved (Y/N) (L/N), but it took a magic mirror for him to realize that… Not that he was complaining, better late than never.

Pulling away from their first kiss, Fred tapped his finger against his chin, “You know, I don’t think just one was enough” he admitted, sliding his arm behind (Y/N)’s knees and scooping her up into his grip, “Wouldst the fair lady grant me one more?” He asked, wagging his eyebrows at her, making her burst out laughing.

“As many as you want, My Lord,” giggled (Y/N), placing her hands on his cheeks and pulling him in for another passionate kiss.

As the snow began to fall around them, Fred carried (Y/N) out of the training grounds, both bursting with excitement for the upcoming Yule Ball and the new memories they would make together.

#fred weasley #Fred and George #Fred and George Weasley #Fred Weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #yule ball imagine #harry potter imagines #hogwarts mystery imagine #hogwarts fanfic #hogwarts imagine #Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

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serenityseventeen · 3 years

Text

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Sixth Letter

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

To: Lee Jihoon

From: Y/N

I'm sorry.

Jihoon, I will not blame you for anything. If I were in your shoes, I would have been even more irritated than you were. I'm still irritated, actually.

I know for certain that you probably hate me so I will begin this letter for you by reminding us of our good times when no one was there to butt in.

When we first met in tech audio, I was really surprised that you were a musical genius. You knew how to work the garage band app right away and since we sat next to each other, I could already tell that you were familiar with it.

You were also able to play the guitar and the piano. I've always liked music so seeing someone play those two instruments just fascinated me. Not only that, but you also played the clarinet well.

You've probably lived around music all your life, right? I listen to music almost everywhere I go, every day, it's one of my human needs, but I have to admit, even after learning a bit of piano from you, I still have almost no idea about music. Genres of music are still hard to identify for me and I can still barely tell the difference in chords. I'm still thankful that you took the time out of your worktime to help me understand more about music.

Honestly, when I first saw you, Jihoon, I was intimidated. You didn't like exactly friendly and I just stupidly thought that you were one of those ‘perfectionist’ students who only cared for their grades and being the best. Also, just the way you looked when you didn't smile gave me that impression. However, when you smiled, you looked completely different. You looked cute. We laughed a lot together too.

I bet you that on our first assignment, I must've looked like a complete tech idiot. The assignment was just to come up with your original piece of music by messing around on the app. Was my confusion that easy to see through?

I don't know, but I think the moment that you helped me was when I started to realize you as the person you are now. You taught me how to use the app in such a gentle tone, you know that? I still feel like I can listen to your voice forever and I won't get bored of it.

I was happy with our forming friendship. I felt like I could truly be your friend. Plus, we had one other class together so I was able to talk with you a lot about music. Everything you say fascinates me and makes me believe that you are a musical genius. I still believe that you are even if I can't hear your songs anymore.

Speaking of your music, I think you should become a ‘pro’ music producer, lyricist, composer, songwriter, of them all. Your talent in music is truly undeniable!

That first piece you showed me called “17”, I have to say that that song may be my favorite out of all the songs you've sent me. I still have all the music files stored in my phone and I'll never delete them. It's not because I still like you that I'm keeping them but it's because I like the song. I might put them into an mp3 player and stick them on the back of this letter. Out of the 13 songs you've shown me, there was not one that I disliked.

Your voice is also heavenly. I love it. I don't understand why you aren't getting yourself a whole career already! You don't know this but when I was playing your song “Rock”, my father was totally digging it! Even my next-door neighbor wanted to know who was the artist behind “20”!

There was also that time when you were helping me learn how to read music using the piano and our hands kept brushing against each other. Our shoulders were also glued together because the seat was so small. If your heart was racing just as much as how pink your ears turned, then please, believe me, my heart was beating twice as fast.

You didn't just teach me music and show me your creations, you also shared music that you enjoyed. A lot of the songs are still in my playlist. You have great taste in music too, Jihoon. I enjoyed every moment we spent just sitting at the window of the classroom, sharing headphones and listening to the songs you liked.

When they were love songs, I just couldn't help thinking that you chose the song for a reason. I'm quite an overthinker. I always thought that maybe one of the songs you showed me held your heart and maybe they did, but now I'll never know.

I'm your fan, Jihoon, even though you probably wouldn't want me to be anymore. I still admire you and I respect you a lot, that's why I'm deciding to write you this letter. I'm not going to get too close to you, I won't even try to bring us back to what we were because now, it's too awkward between us. I know that deep inside, you must feel so a deep hatred toward me, even if it wasn't entirely my fault.

I've realized what kind of person you are, Jihoon. You're kind, caring, talented in almost everything, shy, and stubborn. You love music. You hate it when someone who isn't close to you gets all up in your business as if they know everything. You also hate narcissists. You're selfless and humble.

I don't know who you told but I'm sorry. Your trust must have been completely broken. I mean, I can just imagine how painful it would be, being an introvert and telling someone your crush while trusting them to keep the secret only to have them spill it to the person's friends.

I hate my friends because they ruined our relationship but since they are my friends, I just can't abandon them as if we didn't spend years being best buddies. I've been distancing myself from them for a while now but I think it won't be long until we continue hanging out again. I want to hang out with you too but you must feel so... angry.

I heard that you're not friends with the guy who leaked the secret that you liked me. I truly hope that you can find a friend that is a true friend. I don't want you to live in fear and keep everything to yourself. I'll always be here for you though, so please, even if I don't speak with you, you can speak to me.

Gosh, what am I saying? It can't be fixed.

You must've overheard it when my friends dragged me away from your cafeteria table and whispered to me, “Did you know? He likes you!”

I was flustered and when I turned back to you, I still remember seeing your hands clench. That's when I sort of knew that we wouldn't be friends anymore.

Even after having your trust broken, you continued to hang out around me, which made me believe that if I confessed my feelings to you when the time was right, we could fall in love. So, I spent a lot of time learning about you.

That's when my friends came in again. They started teasing us in front of the whole class, saying all that stupid cheesy shit. I was ready angry and kept telling them to stop but they wouldn't because they just thought I was like them.

‘When you're in high school, you don't want the person in the relationship, you just want a relationship.’

That was not the case for me but that's what they thought. I wanted you, Jihoon. I was ready to teach you about me and get to know you better so that when I was ready to love, we would be able to stay together.

My friends are stupid.

They continued to pressure us to be together.

Knowing you, you must've gotten extremely annoyed and fed up with it, enough for you to end your friendship with me. And that's exactly what happened, right?

Each day, for a month, they came to our desks singing stupid love songs meant for children. They were so childish and I was growing so sick of it. I knew that you didn't like that shit. I knew that you were just enduring it but I couldn't stop it and I'm sorry.

We went through all that humiliation together. I think we could have had a better love story if your friend didn't leak your secret and my friends didn't act like children. I saw sparks in your eyes, that's why I had hope that we could fall in love together, but we couldn't even get ready to love.

I just remember that day when you ignored me. I was telling you that your piece sounded good and asked if I could get a listen, but you didn't reply to me at all. You still don't talk to me. It makes my heart ache.

When our friendship got ruined, I almost ruined my other friendships too. You don't know this but they kept pestering me, asking if you and I were finally dating and if we had a couple fight. They kept reassuring me as if they knew what we were going through and saying that it was just a small love fight and that we would recover soon. They didn't even know the problem was them so I yelled at them.

In the middle of the cafeteria, I slammed my hands on the table and shouted at them. I'm sure you heard me, you were in the same room. I'm pretty sure that you didn't know about this either but when I left the cafeteria in anger, I cried in the stall of a bathroom.

Now, I'm fine.

I wonder what you thought of me then. I mean, we still had to see each other but we didn't talk to each other like we were strangers. I was angry at you for not understanding me so I didn't want to speak or even glance in your direction, even if it did hurt to ignore you.

I think I know what you feel but all I'm thinking about your emotions are just assumptions in the end. You're a stranger to me now. A stranger that I loved.

You brought me the colors of music.

If only things didn't have to turn out so negatively. If only one friend kept his promise of keeping a secret... If only a group of friends didn't tease so annoyingly... Maybe then, things would be different.

Oh yeah, I'm sorry about this too. I overheard you playing a song the other day. Don't worry, I didn't record it but I cried to it. I just have a feeling that the song was about me. All the lyrics, the depressing but gorgeous sound of the piano, your emotional voice, it all brought tears to my eyes. Were you in pain?

I had never heard the song before. When I cried to it, I had my hands covering my mouth to keep noise from slipping. I don't know if you heard me because you just continued singing.

“Maybe I could have been a man

when everyone was telling me to.

But both choices were selfish,

keep you close or let me go,

so I chose

let's just not fall in love.”

I think your choice was for the better.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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

6/21/21 - 11:01 am

a/n: sigh... I feel like this letter was so relatable on so many levels. My former friends were like that, always wanting a relationship but not the person in the relationship. They're too desperate. + ARTHUR KYEOM COMEBACK!??!? SVT CHINESE DRAMA OST!?!?

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pitch-pearl-void · 4 years

Text

Quick summary: Phantom gives Fenton romantic advice and gets caught in a trap of his own making

Fenton’s plans to bury his face in his pillow until Jazz or Maddie dragged him downstairs for supper died, decayed, withered away when he stepped into his room and found his pillow already occupied beneath the head of one Danny Phantom. Fenton groaned and slammed the door shut behind him. Phantom, his one-time other half, full time nuisance, looked up from the space magazine he had stolen from Fenton’s desk.

“What are you doing here?” Fenton demanded. “I thought we agreed this is my room?”

“Your room,” Phantom agreed easily. He looked back down at the magazine. “Tucker said you were turned down by one of the girls at your school. I thought I would visit you, make sure you’re okay, but now I can see you just need to be kept from moping.”

Fenton glared at him, but Phantom pretended to be engrossed in the magazine and thus blind to Fenton’s irritation. Fenton scowled and tried a different tact. “Did Tucker also say why she turned me down?”

“No. He wouldn’t even tell me who she was. Who was it?”

Fenton crossed his arms and scowled at his computer desk. That was at least one embarrassment Tucker had saved him from, not that it would do much good. Phantom would find out eventually. “Because she didn’t want me, she wants you.”

Phantom snorted. “Well, that narrows it down to just about everybody.”

Fenton forced a harsh laugh. “Wow, hey! Just rub it in! I needed a little humility today, thank you.”

Phantom sighed and finally lowered the magazine, laying it down on his chest. “This is not my fault, stop trying to pick a fight with me.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes! It is! Just!” Fenton uncrossed his arms and gestured both hands at Phantom. “Look at you!”

It just wasn't fair. From the casual curl of his spectral tail to the broad shoulders beneath a skin-tight jumpsuit to the effortless way his white hair had, at some point, artfully framed his eyes, his face, Phantom looked…hot, even to Fenton. If Fenton took a picture of him right now, the other kids would kill him for it.

“And you’re not even trying,” Fenton finished, groaning the words. “It’s so unfair.” Phantom cocked his head to the side. His white hair slid across his forehead, causing Fenton’s fingers to twitch. He snapped, “Stop that!”

Phantom lifted an eyebrow and his smile quirked at one corner. “I’m not doing anything.”

He even made laughing at Fenton look attractive.

Fenton crossed his arms again. “That just makes it worse. We’re supposed to be reflections of each other, why are you so much more…” He trailed off, searching for the word he wanted.

“Attractive?” Phantom suggested smugly. He sighed then and shrugged his shoulders. “I doubt it’s me. Humans just seem to have some sort of draw to ghosts, I think.”

“It’s you,” Fenton mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Trust me, it’s you.”

Phantom considered that, the words hanging in the silence between them for several long seconds. He morphed his tail into legs and sat up on the bed. He tossed the magazine onto Fenton’s nightstand. “Perhaps I can give you some advice?”

Fenton snorted. “What good is advice going to do?”

“It might help. Come on, sit down.” Phantom crisscrossed his legs under himself and patted the mattress invitingly.

Fenton warily eyed the sheets in front of Phantom. “She already turned me down,” he said. “It’s a little late for advice.”

“Fenton,” Phantom groaned, “stop being shy and get over here.”

Fenton blushed. “I’m not being shy!” He stomped toward the bed to prove it. “I just think this is pointless!” He flopped onto the mattress and crisscrossed his legs under himself, mirroring Phantom as they faced each other. “What do you know about romance anyway? You haven’t dated anyone, have you?”

Phantom only smiled knowingly. An “I won’t answer because it’s more fun to keep you guessing” smile.

Fenton grumbled under his breath and hunched his shoulders.

“That,” Phantom said as he grabbed one of Fenton’s shoulders, “is the first thing to go.” He pushed back on Fenton’s shoulder. “Sit up straight.”

“What does it matter?” Fenton whined even as he forced himself to straighten his back. “You’re the only one here.”

“Thanks for that,” Phantom said dryly. He shook his head. “It’s a matter of habit, Fenton. The more you do it, the more natural it will feel. It’s an easy fix that is healthier and more attractive. You will look more confident. Confidence is key.”

Fenton blew out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Okay, okay. I guess yours is always straight.” He looked at the broad line of Phantom’s shoulders and then away again. “What else?”

Phantom moved his hand from Fenton’s shoulder to his hair. “This.” Phantom ran his fingers through Fenton’s hair, and Fenton fought back a reflexive shiver.

“It’s not that different from yours,” Fenton complained. “Except that it’s black.”

“Exactly! It’s black.” Phantom pointedly shook his white hair around. “My hair is white, and it glows. It looks soft. It will always only look soft. Yours could look soft if you fluff it up more, run your fingers through it, make it look inviting, or you can smooth it out and make it shine.” Phantom paused. His fingers tugged a little on Fenton’s hair, and Fenton bowed his head a little to accommodate him. “It’s already trying to shine a little. It could look really pretty…”

“Thanks,” Fenton said, somewhat absently. He wasn’t really interested in fixing up his hair. “There’s no way I can compete with your perfect hair, though.”

“We are not competing.”

Fenton snorted. “That’s a relief.” He looked down at his ankles, tugging on the rim of his sock. “I would hate to keep losing to you all the time.”

Phantom sighed. “Have you considered, perhaps, that she isn’t worth it?”

Fenton pressed his lips together and didn’t reply.

“What was your approach?”

Fenton glanced up. “What?”

“How did you ask her out?”

Fenton shrugged. “I just…did?” Phantom’s fingers moved through his hair again, brushing across his scalp. It felt good. A little too good. Fenton moved his head back and Phantom’s hand fell away. “Does it matter?”

“It can.” Phantom untucked one leg and braced his elbow on his raised knee. Fenton cursed him in his head because of course Phantom would find a way to look attractive just by sitting. “Everyone has barriers to their heart. There are a couple ways for them to lower those barriers. The first and easiest is through attraction. If they’re attracted to you, that’s one barrier down, and they’re more likely to give you a chance.”

Fenton snorted and turned his head away.

Phantom’s fingers touched Fenton’s chin and turned his head back to face him. “You are hotter than you realize, Fenton. You just need confidence.”

Phantom’s fingers were lingering on his chin, so Fenton lowered his eyes instead, looking down and to the side.

“This is how many at your school have tried to catch my attention,” Phantom continued. “Especially Paulina. They think if I find them attractive, I will seek them out, but there are so many trying to catch me, my barriers have to be stronger than that. If it was Paulina you asked out…she would be the same. Was it…?”

Fenton kept staring off to the side and didn’t answer.

Phantom blew out a breath. His fingers finally left Fenton’s chin. “Well. If it were me, I would require more than attraction. Friendship is a suitable way to test waters because few people are willing to lower their defenses to strangers. Just understand a friendship is very different from a relationship and you can’t simply trade one for the other. You might even find you don’t like her as a girlfriend once you know her as a friend.”

“And after all that?” Fenton looked at his other half again. “What about that approach thing?”

Phantom made a face but shrugged. “It’s sort of the same concept. You want her to feel comfortable when you ask. You want her to want you when you ask. Whoever she is, if you just ask her in front of others, she’s going to be embarrassed and on guard. Your best bet is to wait until you’re alone, create an intimate atmosphere, and then propose a date.”

“What?” Fenton smiled crookedly. “Like invite her to my room, sit on the bed with her, and talk about romantic things?”

Phantom caught his reference and widened his eyes. He glanced around, seeming to notice for the first time that the sun was setting, that they were arm’s length apart, that the room was almost perfectly silent. He laughed easily, though, and reflected Fenton’s crooked smile. “I guess so. Give it a shot, then.”

Fenton’s smile faded. “What?”

“Pretend I’m the girl you wanted to ask out.”

Fenton frowned and leaned back. “No.”

Phantom’s crooked smile gained a sharper, mocking edge. “Shy, Fenton?”

“No!”

“Do you need me to show you how?”

Fenton’s cheeks burned and he glared at Phantom. “My ‘barriers’ just shot up and gained steel reinforcements.”

Phantom snickered a moment before shaking his head. “I can lower them again.”

“No, you can’t.”

“I can.”

“Nope.”

Phantom’s smile spread into a wide grin. “Alright. Watch me then.”

He slid his leg out, untucking it from underneath him, and pushed himself onto his knees. Fenton set his hands on the bed behind him and started to push himself backward, but Phantom was a ghost and much faster. He levitated off the bed and flew toward Fenton. His arms wrapped around Fenton’s shoulders, his legs around his waist, holding him in place. It wasn’t necessary. Fenton had frozen in place the moment he felt Phantom’s weight land on his thighs.

Phantom leaned into him and pressed their cheeks together, lips sliding toward Fenton’s ear. “Do you wanna go out tonight, Fenton?” he whispered.

Fenton remained frozen in place, his heart leaping into his throat.

Phantom’s shoulders shook where they pressed against Fenton’s, and Fenton stiffened. Right. Phantom was playing with him, like always. Teasing was Phantom’s favorite pastime, he wasn’t actually serious, no matter how intimate it felt to have Phantom in his lap. Fenton pushed his hands between their chests and shoved the ghost backward as hard as he could. Phantom fell onto the bed, laughing and moaning a dramatic lament. His legs were still locked around Fenton’s waist, his butt was still cradled between Fenton’s crossed legs, and Fenton, his face flaming and no doubt redder than it had ever been, began tugging at Phantom’s legs, trying to make him let go. Phantom seemed intent on holding onto him for as long as possible just to make Fenton more flustered.

“Rejected!” Phantom moaned dramatically, one hand pressed against his forehead. “By my own other half! Who will love me if I cannot even love myself?”

“Dude, I hate you so much right now!” Fenton groaned. He gave up on Phantom’s legs and rose onto his own knees above him, inadvertently raising Phantom’s lower half because the stupid ghost wouldn’t let go. “You made your point, let go!”

Phantom grinned up at him, white hair wild, green eyes bright. “What point was that again?”

That you can make my heart stop without even trying, Fenton thought but didn’t say. Would never say.

He groaned and fell onto the bed beside him, forcing Phantom to turn onto his side. They faced each other on the bed, Phantom still snickering. Fenton found something inside him responding to the longing buried deep within. His heart still beat fast, there was a nervous, anxious fluttering sensation in his stomach, but Fenton still reached for Phantom’s face. He had had dreams about cupping Phantom’s cheek before, but under this pretense, he was finally able to do it, sliding fingers toward Phantom’s ear, brushing a few errant strands of perfect white hair aside.

Phantom’s laughter trailed off.

Confidence, Fenton told himself, staring into the green eyes only a few inches away from his own. He said I’m hotter than I realize. I can do this. I want this.

“Fenton?” Phantom asked softly.

Fenton took a deep breath and whispered, “Go out with me?”

Phantom stared at him. His mouth opened, but he couldn’t seem to force a word out. He just stared into Fenton’s eyes, seemingly unable to look away.

Fenton’s confidence…broke. He forced a laugh and lifted his hand from Phantom’s cheek. “What? Did I do it wrong?”

“I…” Bright green light flushed Phantom’s face. “No!” His legs released Fenton’s waist and he began to scoot backward, pulling his left leg out from beneath Fenton’s waist. “No! That was…that was great! I—I don’t know why she turned you down? You seem to have a knack for this.”

Fenton pushed himself onto his elbow to help Phantom pull his leg out. He frowned, though, watching Phantom. He had never seen his other half behave so erratic. He wasn’t even looking at Fenton anymore. “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” Phantom finally met Fenton’s eyes and flashed a bright, false grin. “Everything is fine! Why? Are you okay?”

“Ye-yes?” Fenton replied, even more unsure now. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you just got rejected by whoever it was you asked out, and I only came here to find out who it was and make sure you were okay, and if you are then…” Phantom trailed off. He stared at Fenton.

There was a thick, somewhat frantic tension in the air, and Fenton forced a laugh, trying to dispel it. “Dude, you look like you’re having an epiphany or something. Do you need me to call Jazz?”

“No!” Phantom stared at Fenton a moment longer and then looked away, shoving a hand into his hair. “Maybe...?” He shook his head. “I should go. Patrol. And. Stuff.”

“Okay,” Fenton said, still hesitant. “Will you come back? Later, I mean. Maybe if I told you who it was you can tell me where I went wrong.”

Phantom’s jaw clenched. “Yes. Maybe. Or maybe you shouldn’t tell me. I don’t think I want to know.”

“Why not?”

Phantom looked at him helplessly for a moment before shaking his head. “I might want to beat her up.”

Fenton snorted. “What, defend my honor after it was crushed?”

“Something like that.” Phantom laughed and ducked his head. “Or maybe just so I can feel sorry for myself.”

“Why? You’re the one she wants.”

“Well.” Phantom shrugged. He floated off the bed, his legs forming into a spectral tail. “That isn’t going to happen. Ever.”

Fenton sighed and fell off his elbow, landing on his back. “Thanks for that, I guess, but you don’t even know who she is yet. You might already like her.”

“I don’t like…” Phantom coughed. “I-I don’t like anyone.”

“Oh.” Fenton stared up at the ceiling. “That’s good to know.”

“Yeah…” A few seconds of silence passed between them before Phantom abruptly said, “Bye, Fenton,” and flew from the room.

Fenton waited a minute to make sure he was gone before he rolled over onto his stomach and screamed into the mattress.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #pitch pearl #mutual pining #I realized I hadn't posted anything in a while so here's a quick thing I wrote for a friend on the discord server #fanfiction #writing trance

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neon-wisp0831 · 4 years

Text

Healing broken hearts: A fatgum x reader bittersweeet fanfic

Warning: cheating and heartbreak, if you don't wanna read this you'll have to skip over it to the best of your abilities

Chapter one: The Bitter

He wasn't sure why he had to let it happen.. Why he couldn't say no despite his heart telling him to..

Then: You were working late, he had taken the day off in hopes to spend more time with you but you were called into work for an emergency, you were disappointed.. He was disappointed, but he understood either way, as a hero things could be complicated for himself, it was one of the reasons he took time off work in hopes to be closer, the relationship you both had wasn't bad, just very distant. He hated that, he loved you more than anything and he didn't want to lose you, so he wanted to find some way to make it work out, but your emergency call got in the way. He was lonely, he needed some company, but he wasn't sure what to do. That day he was scrolling through his phone, trying to keep himself entertained, looking through some media,that's when he noticed her. An old friend, a colleague back in his younger days, it seemed like the perfect time to catch up...

But it all came to this moment

Now: He was sitting in his office at his agency, skinny, nervous, his gloved fingers constantly running through his hair and over his masked face, how could he possibly tell you what happened without losing you for good?

He couldn't look at himself the same way after that night, it really did start off innocent, they talked, walked through the area.. It was a good time. But when they got back to his house that the two of you were living in, it all went downhill from there. A simple movie night, that was all it was supposed to be before she would head back home, he noticed it too late when it started happening, the way she leaned against him as they watched the film, he only brushed it off as a friendly gesture, then the flirting came, he should have stopped her there, but the attention he craved so dearly that day caved in on him, he didn't return the favor, but he didn't stop her either..

The door opened, he jumped and looked over at you, the face he grew to love so dearly had the same worried look he had

"Tai.. I got your message.. Is.. Is everything ok?" You asked walking over to him, he stood up from his desk chair, stopping you from coming any closer, the life he once had in those beautiful gold eyes burned out a while ago from the tears he had shed, his hair seemed to lose that fluffiness it had before, it looked more messy like it had just been through a rough storm, his hero outfit he was wearing had tear stains on it, one of his hands stuck in his pants pocket, the other moving up to scratch his head

"H-hey gummy bear.." Even the voice that always made your day a little brighter sounded just as gloomy and slightly hoarse, he had been crying..maybe even screaming... That's when you knew it was serious..

A week... The guilt he held onto lasted a week.. The messages that would remind him everyday how bad he messed up, came to him almost every day.. things like "if you ever need someone to satisfy your needs, you know where to come to~" "I miss you~ wanna come to my place?~" Things that would keep him at night with guilt, silently crying himself to sleep whenever he thought about it, the fact he was capable of doing something like that to you was just unbearable, him.. Taishiro Toyomitsu.. Fatgum the BMI Hero.. Could he even be called that anymore? It wouldn't be something that would be considered that villainous, not to most of the public at least.. but in his heart and soul, it was as if he had went on a major massacre out of blind rage, his heart ached knowing that he betrayed you like this.. it seemed that way, he massacred your trust in him, possibly your friendship... your Love.. In his mind, he had committed a major crime. And he was going to pay the price for it one way or another.

"I'm so sorry baby.. I-i didn't mean for it to happen-" He started to explain, but you couldn't bare it anymore, it didn't seem possible.. But the texts he showed you, the emotion put into his words, you knew it was real.. You backed away from him when he tried to come closer, your whole world felt as though it was crumbling around you, eyes flooding with tears, his arms came around you, the soft warm embrace tempted you, but you couldn't.. His words came in stutters of apologies, telling you it only happened once, how much he regretted it, but you weren't sure if you had in your heart to believe him, if he was lying, maybe you didn't know him like you thought you did.. If he was telling the truth, could you still forgive him, knowing he had done this to you?

"Let me go tai... Please..." You whimpered, lightly pushing him away.. He did..reluctantly

"I'm sorry (Y/N) I.. I'm sorry.." It was all he could say at this point, his head lowered full of shame, he really hated seeing you like this.. It broke his heart more than anything, but how could he possibly fix this? Would you hate him for the rest of your life? What would he tell Kirishima and Tamaki? They looked up to you, saw you as parenteral figure.. How this would affect them.. Or his relationship with them? Would they hate him for this too? He had no idea.. But it wouldn't be good either way.. If things had to end off between you, he'd understand, he'd at least want to stay friends, but if you didn't want that either.. It would really make things worse for him..

"(Y/N) can we.. Please.. Just talk this over? Please I know I messed up.. Really bad.. But.. Just for a little bit.. I just want to talk.."

You thought about this offer for a bit, tears rolling down your face, your heart shattered, he was doing everything he could to make this right, to fix what he could.. Your eyes slowly scaled up his mountain of a body, and as they continued your heart hurt more, you shared great memories with this man, the times you spent together, how open and honest he was throughout the whole relationship.. The moment your eyes met his, the floodgates came. Hard. You couldn't stop the tears that were flowing down your face like a dam had just broken in your head, it only hurt you more as you cried, torn between asking for his comfort, and pushing him away, your hands clenched into fists, you almost wanted to hurt him, physically..to have him feel what the pain he had put on you felt like.. But you decided against it, not only because it would seem bad to hurt a hero but because you knew he had taken worse... You turned your back to him, grabbing at the door and forcing it open, slamming it on the way out. Storming through the halls of his agency. You were making your way out of there when you noticed Kiri and Tamaki were walking in, they saw you, ready to greet you until they noticed how grim your face looked, but you stormed right pass them and out through the doors, heading back to the home you shared with the local hero, which thankfully was his own, you knew an area that had some rather cheap, yet good apartments, it was going to be a hassle moving your stuff in on short notice, but you had a friend willing to help you out in any kind of situation when you needed them. You couldn't be more grateful.

Kirishima and Tamaki were worried after seeing you like that. You had tears freely running down your face, the aura you were giving off said something was wrong..

The only thing that proved their rights to worry.. Was the sudden agonized scream that rang throughout the agency coming from their mentors office, the two boys ran as fast as they could to him, opening the door to only see him curled up on ground, one hand holding his chest, the other hitting the ground below him as he shouted towards it, it only made the sound of his voice worse as he cried, eyes burning from the tears he previously cried before, now he cursed himself for his agony.

His interns could only watch with sympathetic looks, already having an idea of what had happened. Tamaki hid his face in his hood, leaning against the office wall, trying to hide his own sorrow, kirishima could only try to hold in the tears brewing up in his eyes, he wasn't angry.. He couldn't be. Not at you or his mentor.. But it wasn't easy to take.. He wanted to help, to have his questions answered, to fix this somehow, but how can you fix two broken hearts without a even little time on your hands?

☰ ☱ ☲ ☳☰ ☱ ☲ ☳☰ ☱ ☲ ☳☰ ☱ ☲ ☳☰ ☱ ☲☳

(Well this was fun-- writing. I'm gonna go think about how to write out the next chapter... Despite the uh.. Situation going on here.. I hope you enjoyed reading this! Somehow... It's my first time trying something like this. So... dunno anyway see y'all next chapter)

#taishiro toyomitsu x reader #fatgum x reader #fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #this killed me--#I'm so sorry--

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imagine-that · 4 years

Text

Stalker much?

Warnings: swearing

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x reader

AN: holy crap I just realized I’ve been working on this one since like June 😂😂 anyway, hope you guys like itttttttt!!

You stretch out lazily on the sofa in the living room of stark tower, watching a movie with the rest of the Avengers minus the infamous god of thunder, your head resting on Steve’s lap.

“You know I’m not a pillow, right y/n?” He asks with a teasing but playful smile.

You shrug slightly. “But if not, why are you so comfortable?” You counter. He laughs in surrender and the both of you turn your attention back to the screen but not before noticing the grins on Natasha and Buckys faces at your friendship.

The crew pays attention to the movie and all is peaceful until the door slams open and reveals an irritated looking Thor.

Everyone scrambles to get up and find out what’s wrong, Steve moving your head and ushering a quick apology as he does so, but that question is quickly answered when in walks the god of Mischief himself.

Unfazed by their arrival, you remain lounging on the couch, closing your eyes in an attempt to regain the previous calm.

That is until you feel a pair of prying eyes resting on you. Slowly, you open your eyes one at a time and find Loki staring at you curiously.

“Hi?” You say, remaining in your relaxed position.

“Hello there.” He says with a devilish smirk. He seems to be analyzing your every move.

You brush some strands of your y/h/c hair out of your face and peer back up at him confidently.

“Who exactly are you?” You ask, knowing it would push his buttons.

He gives you a puzzled look, the smirk still in its place on his face. “I am Loki of Asgard, the god of mischief.” He says with a strained and obviously annoyed laugh.

“Well Loki of Asgard, the god of mischief, I’m y/n of earth, the god(dess) of... well the god(dess) of nothing really but it would be cool to be a god(dess).” You respond with a smile.

“Quite the cheeky Midgardian aren’t you?” He says with a genuine laugh.

Feeling slightly uneasy, you sit up.

“I have no clue what that means but yeah I am.” You reply. He remains staring at you in curiousity.

“It’s what Asgardians call the people of earth.” Thor interrupts, causing Loki’s smirk to be quickly replaced by a grimace of sorts.

“Ohhh. Ok.” You reply simply.

Before Loki can ask anymore questions or say anything more about you, you stand up and make your way into the kitchen.

Once you’ve opened the fridge, you grab a bottle of water and go to close the door again.

“Hello again.” A voice says and you jump about seven feet in the air.

Loki smirks at your surprise and you send a glare his way.

“What the fuck?! Are you following me?” You ask, smiling sarcastically at him.

“I find you fascinating.” He smirks again, ignoring your question and you give him a pointed look.

“And I find you annoying. Now shoo.” You argue, your patience for the god clad in green wearing thin.

“Hm well I am good at that.” He smiles a bit. For a minute you think he’s going to teleport himself or whatever it is that he does somewhere else but he stays put, leaning against the doorframe and blocking your way out.

“Move or be moved mischief boy.” You say, your mouth set in an aggravated line.

“Oh I would quite like to see how you manage to do that.” He replies with another smirk settling on his own lips.

You glare at him, remaining unamused.

“That’s enough Loki.” Thor commands from behind his brother, causing Loki’s face to contort into yet another grimace. He cursed him quietly and then shot you a charming smile before moving aside.

“Was that so hard?” You ask loudly before going into the living room, not so much as looking Loki’s way to see his reaction.

——————————————————

The next morning, you find yourself up at the crack of dawn, unable to continue sleeping. You watch the sun making it’s way up into the sky for a moment before padding your way to the kitchen, tucking stubborn strands of your hair behind your ears as you go.

With a yawn, you enter the kitchen and stumble in surprise, quickly caught in another’s arms.

“Goodmorning darling.” Loki says with a smirk, his blue eyes glistening in the early morning light.

Slapping his arms away, you stand up on your own two feet and clear your throat.

“What are you doing up so early?” You ask, turning away towards the coffee maker in attempt to show your disinterest.

Much to your dismay, it didn’t work.

“I could not sleep. Too much going on inside my head.” He explains with the irritating smirk plastered to his face.

You pretend you didn’t hear him as you pour a cup of coffee for yourself.

Truthfully you had nothing personally against him but you’d heard stories and you’d been there when he tried to take over the world so you were really skeptical about trusting him or talking to him even.

“What is that concoction?” He asks curiously, nodding to the mug held in your hands. You look back at him wide eyed.

“You don’t have coffee on Asgard?” You ask with a laugh.

He smirks again. “We do I just wanted to hear you speak to me at least once.” He purrs and you glare.

“I speak to you. You just got here.” You say as an excuse, shrugging.

“No no. You shoo me away and try to end the conversation. That is not the same as speaking to me darling.” He corrects you.

“My name isn’t darling by the way.” You mutter as you take a sip.

“Well I haven’t caught your real one yet so what am I supposed to call you?” He smirks, leaning against the doorframe.

With a sigh, you glance over at him. “It’s y/n. Y/n y/l/n.” You tell him.

“Y/n. Perfectly suits you little minx.” He purrs and you resist the blush rising in your cheeks at the sound of the way your name rolls out of his mouth as though it was supposed to be there all along.

“Well now you know it so you can stop calling me these nicknames.” You say more harsh than you meant to.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Loki replies with a shrug and yet another smirk.

Before you can reply, he’s moving to leave the room.

“See you around minx.” He says flirtatiously before stepping out of the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

———————————————

As you step into your office, you shut the door and turn around to go to your desk, instead immediately shrieking.

There, sitting in your chair with his feet up on his desk, is once again the god of mischief.

Though you knew he liked to trail you around, this was the first time in the months he’d been doing it that he had shown up at your workplace. You did enjoy his company more than you cared to admit, however it was very surprising and terrifying when he just popped up anywhere.

“Good god! Do you just have all of my schedule marked in that brain of yours?!” You hiss, a hand over your racing heart.

He chuckles at your surprise once again. “Parts of it, yes.” He admits shamelessly.

“You do realize this is a place of work right? Fury won’t appreciate you interrupting his employees.” You warn him. He rolls his eyes.

“Fury can live with a little intrusion I’m sure.” He waves off the warning, leaning back in your chair. You march over, ushering him out of your seat.

“Well I have work to do, reports to make. Not all of us can be gods.” You mutter, turning to your computer screen in order to busy yourself.

As you type, he watches over your shoulder curiously. After a few minutes of this, you spin around, this time surprising him. ‘Good’ you think to yourself with a smirk.

“Did you need something? Don’t you have things to do today? Or any of the other days you come to bother me?” You ask, obviously annoyed. The easy smirk returns to his face, irritating you.

“No not particularly. I am all yours actually.” He says, leaning against the wall.

“Lucky me.” You mutter angrily, turning back to your screen.

“Do I truly annoy you that much?” He asks with a small laugh, looking at you in disbelief.

Sighing, you turn back to face him.

“No. Not really. Work just makes me extra prickly.” You admit and he frowns in concern. You look at him, confused. You’d never seen him concerned about anyone.

He shakes his head a bit, trying to get rid of his feeling of sympathy. “Do you just do paperwork or do you have some sort of special ability I have yet to see?” He asks, taking a seat across from you.

“I do a lot of paperwork but no. I’m actually technically one of the Avengers, though no one seems to notice.” You mutter bitterly. “I have powers almost like Wandas. She controls minds and I’m somehow able to control the elements.” You explain.

“Interesting. Show me.” He insists and you sigh, getting up and grabbing a mug off of the shelf against your office wall and walking out to the water fountain just outside your office. You return and set down the mug and sit back down, causing Loki to look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Just- stay quiet so I don’t lose focus. I don’t do this for entertainment purposes most of the time.” You explain briefly and he nods, gesturing with his hand for you to continue.

You focus your gaze on the mug of water and at your wordless command, the water inside starts floating slowly out of the cup. Loki watches in amazement as you send it flying around the room a few times and finally bring it to a halt above his head.

“Wait y/n-“ he starts as he realizes what you’re doing.

With a smirk, you drop your concentration and in return lose control of the water, snickering as it splashes all over Loki.

“As a trickster I am impressed.” He says with a small smirk. “However, as a person who is now soaking wet, I am annoyed.” He adds, the smirk growing into a devilish and plotting one.

Your face falls to a frown as you realize what you’d just done. “I only did it as payback for you following me so much lately.” You say as an excuse and he laughs a bit.

“Well now you have more than me following you around a bit to worry about.” He says mischievously. You let out a loud sigh and he chuckles.

“I suppose I deserve whatever I get then.” You sigh again.

“Yes. Yes you do.” He agrees, moving even closer to you.

Out of reflex, you back away a bit quickly.

“Are you done following me now then?” You ask, smoothing down your outfit to distract yourself from your practically vibrating nerves.

“Oh does it bother you? Perhaps I should do it more often?” He teases a bit, moving to the other side of your desk.

“Oh good god please no.” You groan and he laughs.

For a few more moments, neither of you say anything, both fine with the peaceful silence that had taken over the room. You tapped keys on the keyboard of your laptop furiously while Loki toyed with the knickknacks on your desk.

“Have you, by chance, ever wondered why I follow you so much?” He asks out of the blue, keeping his eyes on the thing in his hand rather than on you.

“I mean... I guess I may have? Why do you ask?” You respond curiously.

“Forget it. It is actually quite humiliating I must admit.” He mutters shyly, avoiding your eyes.

You shift your gaze from your screen to his face and that’s all it takes for your curiosity to take over fully.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be Loki. You can tell me, if you like.” You offer, forcing your gaze to soften from its hard and concentrated expression.

“Alright...” He agrees, still sounding unsure as he clears his throat.

“I suppose... it may be possible that I fancy you a bit more than I may have let on.” He murmurs, his face going a bright shade of pink.

“No! Really?” You ask in a mock shock. He rolls his eyes as you giggle to yourself, his mouth set in a line.

“I am being serious y/n.” He groans, finally looking up to meet your y/e/c eyes with his own.

“I know you are. You showed up at my favourite coffee shop at the same time as me last week, happened to be visiting my favourite bookstore when I was there the week before and you’ve been trailing around me everywhere for months. It’s kind of easy to take a hint from that.” You giggle, smiling sweetly over at him.

He blushes an even deeper crimson, avoiding your eyes again.

“Of course you knew.” He sighs, chuckling to himself. “You are definitely intelligent enough to have figured it out.” He adds with a charismatic grin.

“You know, you didn’t have to stalk me to tell me you have a little crush. You could’ve just told me.” You respond, brushing more strands of hair out of your face.

He lets out a groan of frustration. “I was afraid. I believed you would never return the feelings.” He admits. “Me, an Asgardian god afraid of mere mortal feelings.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Mere mortal?” You question teasingly.

“No. That is not- in no way was that- I did not mean it in that way.” He responds quickly, obviously kind of flustered.

You giggle a little bit, smiling over at him. “I was kidding.” You inform him, laughing even more as he shakes his head.

“Good. I do not see you as a mere mortal, no matter how mortal you may be y/n.” He promises, holding your hand in his own.

“Good. Because I... I see you as more than just some stalker too.” You admit.

He lets out a sigh, quickly going around the desk and helping you out of your chair, pulling you into his arms, your back to his chest.

“I have been waiting to tell you that for far too long.” He whines into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Took you long enough.” You say with a smirk, tilting your head up enough to see him.

He quickly spins you around to face him, your face only a few inches from his own.

Not able to take it anymore, you close the distance, pressing your lips onto his hungrily.

He hums in approval, deepening the kiss.

“Still afraid of your feelings?” You ask as you pull away.

He laughs, still holding your hand in his own.

“No I most certainly am not.” He responds, holding you close to him.

“Good.” You giggle, going back over to your desk. He whines a little in protest, making you laugh a little more.

“Can’t believe it took you so long to tell me. I was starting to wonder if it was true or if you were just stalking me.” You tease, tapping at the keyboard.

He scoffs a little. “I assure you, it was only because I was not courageous enough to ask a fine beauty like yourself to dinner.” He laughs as your blush deepens and your eyes go wide at the compliment.

You quickly recover, smirking to yourself as a plan comes to mind.

“Well then, pick me up at the compound at 5:00 Mischief boy.” You order, going over to give him a kiss. Before he can ask any questions or say a word, you use your wind manipulation powers to blow him out of the office, giggling to yourself at the sounds of his protests when you let the door shut on his face.

You quickly return to your work, daydreaming about your upcoming date the entire day long.

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starlightsearches · 4 years

Text

Kissing Practice

I think you can accurately chart my mental state based solely on how often I write College AUs. We’ve got some enemies (not pictured) to idiots/friends to lovers in the next part, and I couldn’t be more excited!

Let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated 💖

Armitage Hux x GN Reader / College AU

Warnings: Language

“Have you ever . . . ?”

Armitage already knows he’s turning red, but his suspicions are confirmed when he catches his reflection in the small mirror sitting on the top of your desk. Unlike the rest of your room, which features a thin layer of clutter—picture frames, mugs full of pens, piles of hats and jewelry and accessories—on all flat surfaces, the desk is clear of everything but his computer and notebook, and the mirror. He wonders if you cleared everything else off for him before he arrived, but he pushes the thought away.

“No, I, uh-” he turns to you, searching for the least embarrassing words to finish the sentence, but his mind goes completely blank when he sees you, perched at the end of your bed. You sit casually, with one leg hanging over the edge, and you use the other to support your notebook as you tap your pen absentmindedly against your teeth. Your eyes, though, are completely and totally focused on him.

“It’s okay,” you say after a moment of waiting, saving him the embarrassment, “I haven’t either.”

That’s not what he expected. He can’t mask his surprise fast enough, so he leans into it instead, letting it show in his expression and bleed into his tone, “really?”

“I mean, once, but I don’t really count it. Spin the bottle, and I was, like, twelve or something—I don’t even remember.” You punctuate your sentence with a shrug before returning to your work.

Hux faces forward again—not that he’ll get any of his own work done—although he at least makes an attempt to look like he’s focused. He’s trying to figure out how you both arrived here—not just at this topic, but here. In your room. So . . . amiable. It’s not easy for him to forget how tenuous this friendship is. How long he had to wait for the biting, whispered remarks and glares from across the room to turn into something gentler—with less teeth. It took the two of you ages to learn to trust each other, but no time at all for him to forget why he was ever so wary of you in the first place.

“But still,” you break the silence, and Hux startles, “it would be nice to, you know, know what you’re doing . . . when the time comes.”

Hux furrows his brow. What did that have to do with your friendship?

You watch him closely as you wait for a response, chewing on your lip and he stiffens. Oh. You’re still talking about kissing.

His palms grow sweaty, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep his grip on his pen, but he hums in assent because it seems like the safest option; his mouth has gone dry.

“I just feel like most people have so much more, I don’t know, experience? I guess it’s stupid to stress out about it, but-” you heave a sigh, and he can feel your eyes on him, your gaze burning a hole in the side of his face, “-it’d be nice to figure it all out, you know, before it counts.”

Damn, now his mouth feels too wet—how did that happen?; he has to swallow before he speaks, “Are you suggesting . . . “

“I don’t know. Would you- I mean, we could . . .”

There’s a heavy silence as he thinks about how he should respond. Armitage knows, without any thinking at all, that he’d like to say yes. He’s not too proud to admit, to himself at least, that he’s thought about it before, on occasion. Or maybe a little more than that.

The rational part of him is louder than he’d like.

It’s the rational, or maybe self-deprecating is the better word, part of him—the one that shares his father’s voice—that reminds him that he couldn’t handle it. That he’ll always be a stupid, pining boy no matter what happens. And it feels . . . dishonest in a way, knowing that it would mean something different for him. A chance to have something he craves but hasn’t had the courage to ask for.

“Actually, you know what?” You’re speaking again before he gets the chance to, rushing to get all your words out “-It’s a really stupid idea. I don’t know why I even brought it up. You can just ignore me.” You close the textbook lying next to you with a harsh whomp, running a hand down the side of your face. He knows what you’ll say next (I’m feeling pretty tired, maybe you should go) and there’s an unexpected pang in his heart. He can’t let this slip through his fingers.

“No,” his tone is surprisingly assertive, and he adjusts it before he continues, unwilling to seem too eager, “I mean, I think we should. Since, uh, since we’re friends.” He ignores the irritating thought at the back of his mind that reminds him he’s never kissed any of his other friends.

“Right, it’s just . . . good practice.”

“And it’s not like it means anything.”

“Yes, exactly,” you’re gesturing a little wildly—the way you always seem to do when you get excited—before folding your hands in your lap, caging your fingers together to keep them under control. “ . . . so, do you want to come over here?”

“Oh, right.” Hux’s heart hammers against his chest as he arranges himself at the end of the bed next to you, resting his hands at his sides, hoping he shows more confidence than he feels.

You shift a little closer, turning to face him, and his entire body thrums. He’s never been so aware of his proximity to someone. Never felt his nerves alight like this, waiting for the first brush. There’s none yet; it’s an awkward dance as you move into each other, neither sure of the best way to begin. Although it’s becoming increasingly clear that neither of you know what you’re doing, he finds that inexperience doesn’t temper his excitement at all.

“I guess I could just-” you bring one hand to rest lightly against the flat of his cheek, the smooth pad of your thumb tracing soft lines over his skin. Your hand pulls him closer, until the tips of your noses are brushing, and he can smell the mint on your breath.

There’s a heartbeat’s pause, but no length of time could settle the growing fire that sparks over him in waves. He wonders if you can feel it, rolling off him, if you know the kind of effect you have.

Before he can ponder the question any further, you press your lips gently to his.

Oh god. Fuck. Your lips meet his, and immediately he’s overcome. Does it always feel this good to be kissed? He hopes so, since it doesn’t seem like he’ll get the opportunity to do this with you again. Your lips are softer than he had previously imagined, fitting between his own so perfectly. His hands clench to fists at his sides, his body unsure how to react to such a glorious feeling. Do you feel as good as he does?

A dim flicker of doubt smothers his elation. Is he doing this right? Or are you just putting up with him, waiting for the moment it’s over? He’s hyper-aware of each point of contact, trying to read your reaction and coming up blank.

On instinct he presses his mouth to yours, hoping to yield some kind of reaction, but he’s not thinking straight. He crushes into you, much harder than necessary and regret pools in his lungs as you flinch away.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” he stumbles over his words, sure he’s ruined everything. Even though it pains him to say it, he knows he has to give you permission to get rid of him. “We can stop if-”

“No!” you interrupt him with wide eyes, placing a hand on his arm as if to hold him there. You both turn to stare, eyes lingering on the place where your hand meets his sweater. “I mean, it’s fine. I’m fine. That’s what practice is for, I guess,” you finally meet his eyes, leaning in again but he pulls back, pausing, not completely satisfied.

“Did I hurt you?”

“I was just startled, mostly, but I’m fine now. do you want to . . . keep going?”

Although he thinks you might be downplaying your pain for his sake, he leans closer, bridging the gap between the two of you with the gentlest pressure he can manage, allowing you to set the pace. You must have enjoyed it a little, he reasons, if you’re so willing to kiss him again.

He reads no hesitation in your body now—your fingers more solid against him as you run them gently over the hair at the back of his neck, and he lets out a shuddering breath in response.

“Is this alright?” you whisper the question against his lips and he nods, his nose brushing in lines over the skin of your cheek. You’ve pressed yourself closer to him, your chest against his, and he’s not sure if it’s your heartbeat he feels pounding against his skin or his own.

This is natural, meant to be, even. The two of you move like you spend all your time wrapped up in each other. You kiss him like you know him.

The thought emboldens him, and he holds you closer, his hand to your hip. The hem of your shirt slides away under his touch, your bare skin solid beneath his palm, warm and pliant and more than he could ever hope for. When your tongue drags gently against his bottom lip, when he feels the low moan that escapes your lungs, he’s sure there’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t trade to just stay like this.

The door slams open, loudly, but your roommate manages to spit out the words, “oh my god, I’m so sorry,” before either of you think to pull away.

He sits up off you, shielding you slightly as you readjust your clothing, your hair and he tries his best to surreptitiously wipe his mouth off on the back of his hand. Your roommate sways slightly in the doorway, squinting at you with unfocused eyes—she’s a little more than a little drunk.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie, I didn’t know that you had, uh, company,” she says again, much louder than necessary before shifting to a stage whisper that both of you have no trouble hearing, “do you need me to go somewhere while you-”

“I was actually just leaving,” Armitage jumps from the bed, feeling the blush begin to spread. He runs an errant hand through his hair before throwing his notebook and computer into his bag as quickly as he can manage, halfway out the door and past your roommate before he pauses to turn back.

He can still taste you on his lips as he looks at you, crowds of words trying to force their way out of his mouth, but he lets them die there. He’s not going to be selfish. He’s not going to ruin this.

“I’ll . . . see you tomorrow in class?” Is what he says instead, and your shoulders sag—in relief, maybe—before you nod.

“Yeah, of course . . . I’ll see you tomorrow, Armitage.”

The door closes behind him with depressing finality, and he’s left alone in the dismal light of the hallway.

He’s at the staircase before he drops his bag off his shoulder, leaning back against the wall to catch his breath.

His fingers graze his lips without much thought, back and forth. It’s just skin against skin. He should feel something, even a small fragment of what he felt with you. But there’s nothing now—almost the absence of feeling in memory’s wake.

Armitage huffs, pushing himself away from the wall, down the stairs and out the door into the cold night air. There’s no use in thinking this way. Because, no matter how he feels, he’ll never get to kiss you again.

#armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux/you #armitage hux/reader #general hux x reader #general hux x you #general hux/you #general hux/reader #college au #my writing

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pixxiesdust · 4 years

Text

Better Late Than Never • Midoriya Izuku

Summary • As a hero at Deku Agency, it’s normal for you to train with him. However, you did not expect this to happen.

Pairing • Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Word Count • 3.9k

Tags and Warnings • Characters are Pro Heroes, mid to late 20s, three sentences of slight angst, fluff, kissing.

Note • This is for @bnhabookclub’s Hero Camp Bingo and Celebrating Deku event! The prompt is almost kiss and “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” A huge thank you to the lovely @freckledoriya and @etegomanere for betaing, and to @prismaroyal for helping me with the ending!

–

“Again,” you pant, pushing yourself back onto your feet. You run the back of your arm across your forehead, the skin warm from exertion.

“A-are you sure?” Midoriya asks. He’s breathing heavily too, and he lifts up the hem of his black workout tee to wipe at his face, but he doesn’t look as beat up as you are.

He is the number one hero after all, and it’s hard for you to get as many hits in as he lands on you.

You roll your shoulders, trying to ease the ache that has been building there, and arch your back to stretch out the muscles. Your loose top rises up a bit, and Midoriya’s eyes are drawn to the sliver of skin that peeks through before your shirt falls back down to cover it.

“I’m sure, Deku. No pain, no gain, right?” One of your eyes closes in a quick wink, reassuring him that you are able to continue training.

“Alright, then. Ready?”

You raise your fists up and start bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Bring it on!”

“Go!”

Midoriya charges toward you, and you run toward him, feet slapping onto the training mat with every step. He swings his arm forward, fist aiming for your stomach, but you see it coming and leap to the right. When his arm stretches past you, you grab onto it and pull him in the direction he’s traveling. You give his back an extra shove, and he stumbles a step, but he’s quick to regain his balance and whirls around to face you.

You’re already stretching out your leg in mid-kick, and Midoriya’s eyes widen at the speed of it. His reflexes are faster, though, and he ducks under it, sweeping his own leg out towards the one you’re standing on.

He knocks it out from under you. You lose your balance, and even though Midoriya knows you are a capable hero, his heart pounds just a little too quickly, and his movements falter as you fall toward the training mat. You hit the mat and roll, coming back up in one smooth motion. There’s no time for Midoriya to attack, especially since he wasted those few seconds in needless worry.

You take advantage of his hesitation, although you don’t know why he suddenly froze up, and you start a relentless attack. You swing your fists, one after the other, alternating with kicks that force Midoriya back step by step when they land.

A grin stretches across your face. “Looks like I’m winning this one, huh?” you say between swings.

But as you kick out again toward his chest, his large hands wrap around your ankle.

You freeze.

Midoriya looks at you. A satisfied smirk curls his lips up, and there’s no trace of shyness as he says, “Don’t get too cocky. This isn’t over yet.”

Your eyes widen as his hands tighten around your ankle, and you know what’s coming next. The muscles in his arms flex and strain as he heaves, pulling your leg over his shoulder, drawing your body toward his.

You know he’s going to toss you across the training mat as he’s done multiple times in the past, and you brace yourself for the landing–

But your other leg knocks against the side of his head, hard, causing Midoriya’s ears to start to ring, and he loses his balance.

He drops to the floor.

You drop with him.

Your eyes instinctively shut as the impact knocks the breath from your lungs, and your head bounces off the mat. It takes a long moment for the ringing in your ears to clear. You slowly open your eyes, blinking hard to clear your vision.

You see emeralds.

Midoriya’s eyes are wide, showing most of his vibrant green irises. He’s stiff and still above you, muscles frozen as he covers your body.

Before you can fully register the warmth of his exhales brushing across your lips, Midoriya scrambles off you, rolling his body to the side before sitting up. His cheeks are dusted pink, and his eyes are still wide. He’s shaking as he bows to you multiple times, apologies spilling out of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean– Was I too close? Are you– I didn’t want it to be like this– I have to go, I’m sorry, I’ll see you later–” And he tears away from you, legs covering the distance from the training mat to the gym door in seconds.

The door slams shut behind him.

You blink.

“W-well,” you say shakily to yourself, “that couldn’t have gone any worse.”

You bring a hand up to your parted lips, feeling the lingering warmth from the closeness of Midoriya’s own. And though your chest is tight as you remember the way he apologized and quickly retreated, your heart pounds rapidly at the thought of nearly kissing him.

If that was the closest you’d ever get with your long time crush, you’d treasure it forever.

–

Over the next few days, you only see glimpses of green in the agency. As soon as you catch sight of a head of vibrant hair, Midoriya disappears around the corner, or slips out of the room, or leaps out an open window.

And you’re getting sick of it.

So when you hear from a passing sidekick that Midoriya is busy on an important phone call, you march into the elevator and aggressively press the button for the top floor of the agency. You’re buzzing with anger and frustration, and when the elevator doors slide open, you ignore the secretary’s protests and march toward Midoriya’s office.

“He’s on a business call, I don’t think–” the secretary tries to say, but you cut her off.

“I won’t say a word until he finishes his call. But I’m waiting in there.”

You twist the handle and push the door open, slipping in quietly. You shut the door behind you with a soft click. Midoriya sits in his office chair, but he faces the floor-to-ceiling windows, displaying the city sprawled far below. Other skyscrapers stretch for the sky, but Deku Agency towers above them all.

You pad across the room with light steps, and ease yourself into the seat on the other side of his desk. Crossing your arms across your chest, your foot taps against the floor as you wait.

Midoriya continues to talk on the phone. His voice is low and soft, yet is firm—a huge contrast to what he sounded like back in U.A.

You listen to him as he talks. You catch words like “agency” and “teamwork,” but you’re more focused on just letting his voice wash over you. It’s rather calming and soothes your anger, leaving behind sadness, frustration, and an ache in your chest that you rub at absentmindedly.

You bring your legs up in the chair, curling them under you so you’re more comfortable. In most cases, this would be considered unprofessional, but you were friends before he became your boss.

Friends.

A yawn causes your mouth to drop open, and you stretch your arms up, before settling back into the seat. Midoriya’s voice continues in the background, and lulls you into a drowsy state. You battle the weight of your eyelids, but you give up, and they slide closed.

As you slip into sleep, one last thought passes through your mind.

You want to be more than friends.

–

You’re brought out of your nap as something warm settles down on your shoulders and drapes over your body. You crack open your eyes just the slightest bit and see the green of Midoriya’s hero outfit.

The weight is from one of his jackets, and he proceeds to tuck the edges around you with gentle hands and a soft look in his eyes. He straightens up and pulls his hands away, letting out a quiet sigh as he turns his back to you and moves around to sit back in his desk chair.

You watch him as he works, filling out papers on his desk, or typing into his computer. Your eyes stray from his face to his shoulders and chest, his hero costume clinging tightly to his well-muscled form. Your gaze moves back up to his eyes, taking in the green that sparkles with concentration and determination.

It’s silent in the office. But although it’s quiet, you find it peaceful and comforting to just be near him.

Your chest is warm.

You love him.

And because you love him, you need to talk to him about the not-quite kiss from training a few days ago. The conversation will completely change your friendship—and if you’re being realistic, not for the better. You try to think of the right way to say what you’re thinking, but your lips part and words tumble out of your mouth, breaking the silence.

“Is nearly kissing me so bad that you’d avoid me for it?”

Midoriya drops his pen and shoots out of his seat, eyes snapping up to lock onto yours. “I- I thought you were asleep!”

Your eyes crinkle as you give him a small, bittersweet smile. “It’s so bad that you don’t even want to talk about it?”

He sputters and stammers, and you can see him trying to think of the right words to say.

“It’s okay, Midoriya. It’s fine if you don’t return my feelings for you. But I don’t want you to ignore me because of it, or run away from me like I have the plague, because that hurts. I’ll gladly stay by your side, even as friends.”

Midoriya’s eyes widen in surprise. “Your feelings? For- for me?”

Your own eyes grow wide, but with horror. “You didn’t know? I thought- I thought you figured it out after we almost kissed, and that’s why you ran away and started avoiding me. Oh gosh, I just confessed to you.” You let out a groan and bury your head in your hands.

“Please forget what I just said,” you say, though your words are slightly muffled from your position. “It doesn’t have to be awkward, we can still be friends.”

A warm hand lands on your knee, startling you enough that you jerk your head up. Midoriya, the number one hero, kneels before you. There’s a strange expression on his face. It’s something you’ve never seen before, but it makes your skin tingle and your stomach flip.

“No,” he says softly.

Your stomach stops flipping, and you feel heavy with disappointment and despair. You blink, holding back the tears that start to prick your eyes. “N-no, we can’t be friends?”

“No!” Midoriya exclaims. “I meant that no, I won’t forget what you just said.”

He pauses to take up your hands in his own, the scars on his knuckles and on his palms a bit rough, but he holds you with care before continuing. “And I suppose no, we can’t be friends. Be- because, if you accept, only if you want to, um–”

You look at Midoriya with wide eyes as his freckled cheeks turn pink. Something light and sweet and hopeful fills your chest. Is this–

“–will you go on a date with me?”

A smile spreads across your face. You lean in close to him, until you can see the way his irises start from a forest green near the pupil and flare out into a brighter emerald, until you can feel the soft exhales from his parted lips brush against your mouth.

“Yes,” you whisper.

You withdraw your hands from Midoriya’s hold and move them up to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs stroking gently over his freckled cheeks. One of his hands slips up to support the back of your neck, the other rests on your lower back.

Your eyes flutter shut as he starts to lean in, and–

“Deku, sir, you have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

At the secretary’s voice, Midoriya jerks away from you and leaps to his feet. You yank your hands away from his face, face growing hot at being caught so close to each other.

“Um, yes! I’ll be there shortly, thank you,” Midoriya manages to say.

He watches as the secretary nods and leaves his office, pointedly leaving the door open behind her.

Midoriya looks down at you, cheeks pink, and an apologetic look on his face. “I’m so sorry, but I have to get ready for the meeting. You can stay in here if you’d like, though, and rest some more. I know you’ve been working really hard lately.”

You smile and shake your head. “Don’t apologize for anything, Midoriya. You’re the number one hero, after all. I’m lucky to be able to spend time with you almost daily.”

You get to your feet, shaking out the jacket he had draped over you, and hang it over the back of the chair you slept in.

You start walking toward the door, looking over your shoulder to smile at Midoriya. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

Midoriya calls your name. He hurries toward you, closing the distance, fiddling with his fingers in front of his body. “Are you free? Tonight? I don’t want to be too forward, but maybe–”

You rest your hands on his own, and his fidgeting stills. “Tonight would be wonderful.” You pause for a moment, thinking.

“My place at seven? We can have dinner, and that way we don’t have to worry about someone recognizing you. And,” you add on, a cheeky smile spreading across your face, “we won’t get interrupted.”

Midoriya’s face turns red, and he swallows twice before speaking. “O-okay. Yeah. That sounds good. Really good.”

“Good.” You grin at him, eyes soft and full of affection. He always looks so cute when he blushes like that, and your brain isn’t fast enough to stop your mouth from moving again. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” you blurt out.

His eyes grow wide, and you duck your head in embarrassment. “See you at seven!” you squeak, hurrying away from Midoriya.

As you leave his office and shut the door behind you, Midoriya rubs a hand over his face, his cheeks still hot and red. Then he stiffens. “The meeting!” He hurries over to his desk, sorting through the papers to find what he needs.

He manages to get to the meeting on time and greets everyone with a smile.

A smile that is bigger and brighter than usual.

–

Midoriya arrives ten minutes before seven, and he spends those ten minutes pacing in front of your door and muttering to himself anxiously. He doesn’t want to mess anything up, but the fact that he’s had a crush on you since his second year at U.A. puts all the more pressure on him.

When the time on his watch displays seven o’clock, he takes a deep breath, straightens his green dress shirt, and knocks on your door.

You pull open the door, greeting Midoriya with a bright smile that he returns. “Hi, come on in, please!”

He steps through the doorway and takes off his shoes, but his eyes are focused on what you’re wearing—something more casual than what you wear to the agency when you’re not in your hero costume—and his heart picks up speed in his chest.

How did you manage to look so good whenever he saw you?

You blink at him, and Midoriya realizes that he’s been studying you for a while now. He flushes slightly then thrusts his hands out before him, a pretty gift bag in his hands. “Here, this is for you.”

“Wow, thank you! You didn’t have to get me anything, though!” You take the gift bag from him and walk further into your apartment, gesturing for him to follow you.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing,” Midoriya says as he follows you to your dining room, with the kitchen on the other side of a high countertop. He leans against the counter as you busy yourself in the kitchen, lifting up the lid on a pot to let loose a cloud of steam. “Just some snacks and things that I think you’d like.”

You turn around and face him with a soft smile. “It means a lot, Midoriya, thank you.” With his sharp observation skills, you have no doubt that you’ll enjoy whatever he got for you.

“Izuku,” he blurts out. “Please, call me Izuku.”

You mouth parts, and you stare at him. “Are you sure?”

Smiles at your astonishment, he ruffles his hair with one hand as he replies, “Yes. Please. If we’re not in public, and- um-” He looks at you with a bit of heat in his eyes that makes your skin tingle and your face grow hot. “It wouldn’t do for the person I’m dating to call me by my last name, right?”

“The person you’re d-dating?” you squeak.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “That is, if you want to? To date?”

“I- yes, I want to!” Your heart is racing in your chest, and you discreetly pinch your arm. The slight sting tells you that this indeed is reality, and that Midoriya is asking you to date him.

Midoriya is beaming, you are beaming, and you honestly could float away with how happy and light you’re feeling. But as the pasta on the stove bubbles, your attention is brought back to the meal you’re cooking. So you turn back to your stove and shut off the heat, letting the boiling water start to cool down.

Midoriya watches with soft affection as you drain the pasta, mix it with shredded chicken and white sauce, and divide it up onto two plates. “Is there anything I can help with?” he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

You look up from the plates of pasta that you’re placing halved cherry tomatoes onto. “No, I’m almost done here! You can help by standing there and looking pretty.”

Midoriya’s spine stiffens, and he waves his hands in front of him. “You can’t just say that! I- you’re the pretty one here; you’re gorgeous.”

You laugh at his flustered words as you grab two extra plates, two forks, and two knives from a drawer. You slide them across the counter toward Midoriya, who picks them up.

“If you’ll set the table, I’ll bring the food out.”

He nods and moves to the table. You pull out the salad you had made earlier from the fridge and place it in the middle of the table, passing Midoriya with a gentle touch on his back to alert him of your presence.

As he finishes setting the table, you bring over the two plates of pasta. After you set them down, you move to your chair to take a seat, but Midoriya’s there to pull your chair out for you, and you give him a grateful smile as he pushes it in.

Midoriya settles down in the chair across from you. He takes in the salad and the pasta with sparkling green eyes, and thanks you for the food.

“Let’s dig in!”

–

Though you both finish eating in under an hour, Midoriya stays in your apartment late into the night. He helps you wash the dishes, passing them to you so you can dry them with a towel.

After that, you move to your living room. You open up the snacks Midoriya had brought for you, and share them while you talk about all kinds of things: work, U.A., favorite vacation trips, funniest memories, and so much more.

By the time there is a lull in your conversation, the clock in your living room shows that it’s nearly eleven-thirty, and Midoriya has been here for over four hours.

He’s telling you all about a cute cafe he saw on patrol a couple days ago while he slips his shoes on by the door, but Midoriya falls silent when you open it for him. He steps outside, and you do too, closing the door behind you.

Midoriya looks at you, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “Thank you for tonight. It was– it was amazing.”

“Yeah,” you say, “it really was.”

He swallows. “Would it be too forward of me to, um, ask if I can kiss you?”

Your eyes widen, but you step closer to him and slide your hands up his chest. “Would it be too forward of me to say yes?”

Midoriya instinctively dips his head closer to yours and wraps his arms around your waist. You lean into him, your body pressed up against his, until his breaths brush against your lips.

“No, it wouldn’t,” he says softly.

“It’s about time,” you tease. “Then kiss me, Izuku.”

His heart skips a beat at the sound of your voice saying his first name, and his body feels hot. “Okay.”

Midoriya closes the distance between you, and finally, finally, his lips meet your own.

His mouth is warm and soft as it moves against yours, brushing once, then twice, before he deepens the kiss. You let out a small whimper as he cups one hand behind your neck to pull you even closer. He swallows the sound, and you can feel his lips curl up in the corners as he smirks. But when you slide one of your hands up into his hair, tugging gently as you tilt your head and trace his lower lip with your tongue, he moans too.

You pull back to draw air into your lungs, staring at Midoriya as he does the same. His eyes are a dark green, pupils dilated, and they’re locked onto your lips that glisten under the light of the hallway.

He’s still staring at your lips as he says, “I have to go.”

His voice is quiet and halfhearted at best, so you easily pull his head toward yours, and you slant your mouth to cover his own again. Your lips move, and your hands wander, exploring his muscles that shift under your touch, that flex as he takes a few steps until he has you pressed between his body and your door.

You kiss, and you kiss, and you kiss.

Finally, Midoriya reluctantly steps away from you, moving his arms back down to his side. He’s breathless, his face flushed. “I- I really have to, um, go home now.”

You’re equally out of breath, but you smile at him softly and say, “Get home safely, Izuku. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

He nods and presses one last kiss against your swollen lips. His eyes are green and bright, alive, as he watches you enter your apartment and close the door behind you.

Though the slab of wood now blocks you from Midoriya, your heart still pounds, and your body still tingles. You bring a hand up to your lips and touch them gently, a content smile spreading across your face.

Sighing dreamily, you turn around, lock your apartment door, and start preparing for work tomorrow.

Even though you’re packing your bag and lunch for work, giddiness fills you as you move around your apartment.

You can only think of him.

–

Once he hears you turn the lock, Midoriya turns away from your door and takes the elevator up to the roof. He activates his quirk in a crackling of green light and leaps off the roof and into the night sky.

Though the air is cold as it cuts past him, his heart is warm with love and affection.

He can only think of you.

–

Fic Tags • @hanniejji @sadistiks

Everything Tags • @knifeewifee @ererokii

#boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #bnhabookclub #type: text #type: fanfic #fanfic: reader insert #fanfic: one-shot #fanfic: pro hero verse #type: anime #anime: boku no hero academia #ch: midoriya izuku #network: bnhabookclub #my writing #my writing: fic

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thesnowinthemountains · 4 years

Text

NCT 127’s First Time Saying I Love You

(a/n: 1. i wrote a good half of these drunk, so apologies for the excessive fluff 2. i didnt know i was whipped for mark until i wrote that okay im sorry 3. i nearly threw my laptop out the window trying to post this please love it)

Taeil

You were sitting across from each other at the small dinner table in your apartment’s kitchen - the only one you could afford for the time being. There was barely enough space for two plates and glasses, but neither of you seemed to mind the proximity, and Taeil kept staring at you, which distracted you anyway. “What is it?” You asked for the millionth time. “Nothing, nothing,” he replied calmly, going back to his food, but just pushing it around his plate. Not a minute passed before he did it again. You swallowed a bite of food, sighed, and calmly put your fork down. “Taeil, what?” You asked, sharper this time. He smiled to himself and took a second before looking at you. “Your eyes are a really nice color.” He said, failing to hide a mocking smile. You frowned. “Why are you laughing?” You were just confused at this point. “I don’t know how to do this, just-” he breathed, gathering himself. “I love you.” Now you blushed, looking down. “I love you too,” you mumbled.

Johnny

You came home from a long day of work, swearing to yourself you were going to quit. You needed to, your current job was starting to get to your head and affect your moods. You slammed the door on your way in, tossed your bag aside and launched yourself into the couch. You let out a long groan and a few seconds later, Johnny’s voice came from the hallway. “Long day?” he laughed, settling himself in the space next to you so you could lay your head in his lap. “God, you have no idea,” you sighed. You sat together quietly for a while, him playing with your hair until you were almost asleep in his lap. He let out a pensive hum. “What?” You murmured, eyes closed. “I love you,” he said simply, like it was a fact he just read online. “You just made my day,” you laughed softly.

Taeyong

You couldn’t remember what you had said, but he had smiled, his eyes bright, and you just knew. It was easy. He was so easy to fall in love with, easy to be around, your whole relationship was easy and fun. You were in a perfect space. He got excited about ducklings, and made little noises to himself when he cooked. He cooked. He liked big sweaters, and you liked borrowing them; they smelled like him. You liked to sleep in his bed, too, liked waking up surrounded with everything that was him and about him. It was a little while later and you couldn’t hold it in any longer, afraid your heart might just burst if you did. “I love you,” you said it heavily, like it had been weighing on you and just the mere action of putting it out into the world would heal you of all your ailments. “I love you too,” he smiled over the pot on the stove in front of him. You revelled in the domesticity of it, ready to pause this moment and never let it go.

Yuta

You and Yuta had met through mutual friends, ones he played soccer with, and ones you were in various classes with. You were at a study group with them one evening, going over notes from the past week’s classes, trying to gather information for an upcoming midterm essay you were dreading. One of their phones rang. “Hey, Yuta, what’s up?” You didn’t want to eavesdrop on the conversation, but your ears perked up on their own. “Study group. Yeah, she’s here, you wanna talk to her?” Your friend now looked at you from across the desk. He handed you his phone, but mumbled a quick: “Keep it short.” “Hey,” you spoke into the phone after pulling your tongue at your friend. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.” You heard the smile in Yuta’s voice. You smiled in return. “Oh?” “Yeah, I was just thinking I love you. You know, if you’re, uh... into that.” You could hear him shuffling with something on his end, and he was not a nervous person, but you could tell he was trying hard to be casual. “I see,” you decided to toy with him. “Well, then.” “Well, what?” The shuffling stopped. You hummed loudly, like you were thinking something over. He sighed. “Fine, fine, I love you too,” you smiled down at your notes before your friend snatched his phone back from your hand. “That’s enough of that,” he spoke into the phone, but looked at you, addressing you both. You pouted at him but a smile quickly crept back on your face.

Doyoung

This was to be the dinner during which you would introduce Doyoung to some friends of yours to test the waters, see how he would get along, see if they liked him. It was a work dinner, relatively casual, where some of your favorite coworkers were joking among themselves, and poking fun at other people around the table. You were in the younger ones, the newer hires, so you, Doyoung, and a handful of work friends sat at the farthest edge of the table. Doyoung was chatting away with a girl he didn’t seem to realize was in fact a close friend of yours. He looked away for a moment and she flashed you a thumbs up, and an impressed look. You smiled to yourself, happy to have the stamp of approval. “What’s so funny?” Doyoung focused all his attention on you now. You laughed to yourself quietly before meeting his eyes. “I love you,” you cocked your head. He blushed, but grabbed your hand under the table. “I love you too,” he kissed the side of your head, going back to his conversation. There was no helping your lovestruck smile, and a friend of yours across the table made fun of you for it, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

Jaehyun

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth, washing your face, doing all the final things of the day, when Jaehyun leaned into the bathroom’s door frame. He was just watching you, and when you eventually looked back at him, he looked down. You went back to what you were doing, and he walked up behind you, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck. “What’s up?” You giggled. “I love you,” he mumbled against your neck before looking at you through the mirror again. Eyes wide, you turned to face him. He looked down at you, not saying anything. “Well, I love you too, then.” You laughed, pulling him into a kiss.

Winwin

It was late, you knew it, but you and Winwin were huddled together under a big cozy blanket on the couch watching episode after episode of your current favorite show. You had noticed him dozing off time and again, waking himself up with a start each time. You didn’t want to disrupt him, but there was an important scene involving his favorite character, so you lightly shook him awake, his head coming up from your chest and his eyes opening slowly. He looked somehow like both a puppy and an angel and you couldn’t believe you got to see him in moments like these. At that point, you had forgotten why you had woken him up in the first place, and the television was just background noise. “I love you,” you breathed, and your heartbeat sped up almost instantly. He smiled a small, happy smile. “I love you too,” he whispered, laying his head back on your chest, eyes closed.

Jungwoo

You were taking a walk around the neighbourhood. It was a perfect day, the sun shining but just enough of a chill to entice you to wear your favorite sweater. He was commenting on the surroundings, making silly jokes and getting giggles out of you. In the midst of his narration of your environment - the houses and cars and the little lives of the little people in all of them, their fun names and jobs and hobbies - he cut himself off. “I love you,” he said hurriedly before going back to his antics. “What?” You laughed. “What?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, what, the “I love you”? Yeah.” He shrugged. “Is that a big surprise?” “No, I guess not,” you acquiesced, “I love you too, though.” You elbowed him playfully. “Well, good, I hope so! You’d better!” He exclaimed, then smiled to himself.

Mark

You had found that loving Mark came in stages. First, you picked up little habits he had - none too specific, but you took notice and would smile to yourself. Then, you would go out of your way to make him laugh, because the sun shone in his eyes when he did. It went on like this until you finally admitted to yourself that you were in love with him, this cute dorky guy with the weird ears and sweet smile. You never said anything, and you figured if you ever did, things would get awkward and eventually your friendship might phase out, which was worse than pretending you felt nothing at all. One night, though, the two of you were in the middle of playing video games when you made a joke that had him doubled over in laughter. “Fuck, I love you!” He exclaimed through his laughter before getting very serious very fast. “Oh, I- I mean the- the- I- uh...” he stammered on like this until he noticed the look on your face. “What?” He eventually asked, startled by his own words and your wide eyes. “I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” you said quietly, in what was probably the most serious tone you’d ever used around him. “Love me, I mean.” He stared at you, giggled, and got this big, stupid grin on his face. You thanked all your lucky stars and every light in the universe for allowing him into existence, into your life, and allowing him to feel for you as you did for him.

Haechan

You had gone to laser tag with friends, and you had made him swear he wouldn’t somehow cheat, or eliminate you in some snide way. Ultimately, you knew perfectly well that he was the sort of boy who played dirty or not at all, so when he snuck up behind you and you heard the loud sounds of your elimination, you were mildly annoyed, but not surprised. You turned to stare at him, mouth open in mock offense. “Haechan!” You cried. “It’s the game, don’t blame the player,” he held his hands up innocently. You fumed, sticking your tongue in your cheek to stop from snapping back. You moved to catch him and he ran away. “I love you?” he called back, his laughter echoing, while you sighed and returned to your team’s home base.

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jangmi-latte · 4 years

Note

Hi Chii for my request, I'd love a Trey x reader oneshot wherein it starts with mc talking to jade and trey somewhat feels jelly coz of how intimate they look(take note mc and trey are close) when they returned to the dorm they somewhat argued about it until trey suddenly confesses his feelings for her and she did the same and they start to kiss until they went to trey's bedroom and makeout(so yeah it turns out to be nsfw sorry riddle i rly love u with trey pero sakin muna sya haha) ily mamsh!

❞ 𝕿𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖌 ❝

➻ content: a jealous clover...

➻ warnings: too spicy!

➻ comments: doing this oneshot in honor of your graduation! congratulations! i'm proud of you! for sure trey would be proud of you too, yes? ily too mamsh!

࿐. . . TREY CLOVER

“I really appreciate your help, y/n.”

Jade placed the drinks on the customer’s table before facing you with a smile. The Mostro Lounge is filled with customers lately and Octavinelle needed an extra hand. Especially when Azul had fallen ill and couldn't participate in any classes or the lounge for a few days.

How worried you have become when you heard Jade was starting to feel dizzy from overworking himself. You have pushed yourself to help out with the lounge which greatly affected its services.

"I'm glad I could lend a hand I'm used to helping Heartslabyul with their unbirthday parties. It's fair I also help you out," you smiled back and wrote down some more orders from the students.

"As gratitude, would you accept my offer if I treated you out?" he asked once both of you met on the counter. You looked at him in surprise, "You don't have to, Jade."

"I insist. No feelings attached. I simply want to thank you for helping me."

"Where do you plan on taking me then?" you responded, preparing to bring another drink on the tray.

"Since the holidays are nearing, probably somewhere outside of the school?"

You hummed and smiled over at the vice dorm leader, “Sure! Thanks, Jade. You didn’t really have to,” you chuckled and began serving the drinks to the other customers.

In your eyes, Jade is simply nothing more than a friend. Someone you can rely on as he stays true to his words. It was all based on experience, actually. Projects, homework, experiments, with you being his friend we was willing to help, also you have learned how resourceful he was. Not like you’re using him to pass. Your relationship with Jade has eventually bloomed into being close friends.

You took too much of your time being around Jade to even notice a certain Heartslabyul’s student’s observant eye.

“I thought you need y/n’s help, Trey?” Cater asked as he walked along with his friend. “Well look there she is!” he pointed over, seeing you exit Octavinelle’s mirror. It’s no surprise that Jade accompanied you to the mirror chamber. At least, it is in Trey’s eyes, since he did notice how distant you have been around him lately.

Oh, no! He isn’t controlling! You have your own life, you can make your own decisions. He has no right to force you or even control who you should and shouldn’t see. Besides Riddle, you have been another special person to him. He loves you.

And yet he couldn’t stop the feeling of his chest tightening as he looked at you and Jade laugh together. He adores your smile and laughter, but seeing another man make you laugh is making himself doubt his chances with you. Again, he’s not forcing you or controlling you. He just didn’t want to lose you. As a friend or not, you’re still dear to Clover. However, that doesn’t change the fact he’s having hopes for you to say yes. A man can see his own best friend more than a friend.

“Trey?” Cater called, “Let’s head back to the dorm!” Trey moved his eyes away from you and sent his fellow third-year a smile. “Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to bring y/n?”

How he wished he could walk over and head back along with you to Heartslabyul like you usually do. He’s too kind. Seeing you happy with Jade is something he didn’t want to take away. He’s starting to tolerate himself, something he would always advise the others not to do. Over thinking has always been a mortal’s enemy.

“She’s having a conversation with Jade. I wouldn’t want to disturb her.” Trey chuckled and pulled Cater’s arm towards Heartslabyul’s mirror. “Are you sure?” Cater asked. “I mean, she’s heading over here now.”

“It’s best not to disturb her Cater.” Trey walked inside the mirror after that. At this point, Cater has become both worried and suspicious. Was Trey mad? He couldn’t be mad, his eyes say something else. The third-year looked over at you from over his shoulder. It seems like you haven’t even noticed them. “y/n!” he yelled over, catching your attention immediately, “Oh! Hey Cate!” you called before giving your attention back to Jade, “I need to go now, Jade. Thank you for the offer of tutoring me on Wednesday!.”

Bidding farewells, Jade headed back to Octavinelle while you jogged over to the waiting third-year, “Did I make you wait long?”

“Not at all! But I do need help with Trey....”

“Why? What happene–where is Trey?” You were feeling worried. It was odd for try to not be waiting in the mirror chamber like he always does. Cater’s smile was lopsided rather than his usual grin. “You see, I feel like there’s something wrong. You’re closer to him than I am so maybe you could help him?”

“Trey, please stop lying to me. I know there’s something wrong.”

You didn’t want to pressure the male. You getting confused. What happened perhaps? After Cater told you about Trey, you quickly made your way inside the chamber and had to go around Heartslabyul to find the vice dorm leader. Even Riddle has not seen the whereabouts of Trey. That was until you saw him in the Rose Garden.

All he did was give you a look and a small smile before saying, “Were you looking for me?”

Your conversation with him was beginning to sound tense. You asked if he was okay, why didn’t he wait for you, or why was he barely making any approaches lately. It was starting to get on your nerves and the fact Trey isn’t vocal with his emotions nor does he show it was angering you more. Sure, you may be going over the line by not respecting his space, but you were starting to doubt if Trey still even trusted you.

“y/n, please. This is starting to get out of hand.” There he goes again with him dodging your concerns.

“Trey, why won’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” You’re trying to keep your voice steady at this point. You wanted to yell at him to get inside his head. You also didn’t want to catch the other students’ attention, most especially Riddle.

“There’s nothing wrong. Just go back to your room. I have to finish something.”

He stormed inside Heartslabyul. Ah, nothing’s wrong so you avoid your friend’s concern. Great logic. “Why won’t you just talk to me properly?!” you called out and chased after the third-year. You do hope, in the name of the Queen of Hearts, that there are barely any students in the hallway both of you are in.

Trey sighed and shook his head. Even he was starting to lose his composure. He was trying so damn hard not to lash out on you. He was starting to question himself, why couldn’t he just admit he was jealous of seeing another man having your attention?

That’s right, pride and fear.

“y/n, I’m tired.”

“And I’m tired of you not talking to me! Did I do something wrong?! Trey, I’m starting to doubt our relationship right now! You haven’t been talking to me properly every time I try to approach you!”

Again, silence. Both of you are fast walking towards Trey’s room already, you had to walk faster to catch up with hid long strides. You wanted to cry already, taking deep breaths before having to force yourself inside his room and slamming the door behind you. Trey groaned, removing both his glasses and hat as he laid them on his desk then raking a hand through his hair.

“You know we’re currently not okay. I don’t want this to escalate further and wreck our friendship—” he gulped. “–especially when we’re not on the same boat. y/n, I—”

“Just tell me, Trey. Just tell me if I did something wrong because I really feel like it was my fault!”

“You did nothing wrong. Stop blaming yourself.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?! I just wanted to kn—”

“It’s because I love you, okay? I care about you. I didn’t want to ruin your connections with Jade just because I’m feeling selfish. If you’re happy, then I understand. If I have to keep my distance then so be it.”

“Are you insane?!” you yelled, Trey's letting out a breath of surprise at your sudden outburst. "Trey, you were jealous, weren't you? You think I would leave you just because I've been around Jade a lot? How many times do I have you tell you to stop over thinking?!" You racked your hand through your hair and huffed.

The desperation in both your lips and his were knee-weakening. It wasn’t soft, nor rough. His lips held some spark, a deep emotion he was holding for a long time. He wasn’t sure if nature rooted for this moment or if his mind tricked him into thinking this was all just a dream, but every breath he took would make his desire for your lips stronger.

“y/n...” Trey panted against your lips. His hands wandering through your hair and around your waist. Letting out your frustrations in this heated kiss. Your lips left his for a brief moment as you pushed him on the bed, sitting on his abdomen before connecting your lips once more. Hot. That’s what you’re feeling right now. Either from the fuel of your argument just minutes ago or the sudden disclosure of both your feelings, it was enough to bring out your desperation of wanting to kiss your best friend.

"You know what, fuck it."

In this state, your emotions were taking over. Something that dominated your ability to think your decisions through. You had grabbed Trey’s shirt and pulled him closer to you. Making eye contact with him as he stared at you in disbelief. He was speechless. Your other hand made its way towards his nape before slamming your lips on his.

Rather, your boyfriend.

You expected it to escalate, and it did. With just a question to trigger it all, “Are you sure about this?”

One by one your clothes began to leave your body. His tender yet firm touches lingering on your skin, your mingled breaths, and half lidded eyes. The want, need, to build that trust once more, to show the value of your relationship as it takes another step. It will all begin on his bed.

As you now laid on your back, his lips sucked on your bare neck, leaving the reddest marks he could make. Your panties being the last garment that has left your body. You were steaming, and you loved it. Trey was already heavily panting, he hasn't even slipped inside you yet.

"Damn it..." he husked against your neck, biting down on the skin under your jaw. Blinded moans slipped out your lips so wantonly, "Stop holding back," you whined. You wanted to feel him deep inside you already. Your pussy was dripping and begging to be penetrated. He loves you, doesn't he? Then making love would be something you would wish to do to fix whatever was unleashed in both your outlash.

Grunting, Trey nudged your legs open, you spreaded them out so willingly, as he moved his lips back on yours again. You gripped his hair tightly, the other under his armpit and across his shoulder. Slowly, you felt it. Your wetness helping him ease his cock deeper into your cunt. Your tight walls swallowing him greedily.

As you're stretched out, you moaned as your tongues romped against each other. Having to pull away to breathe, a string of saliva stretching in between your slobbery lips. You tilted your head back on the pillow once Trey began to rock his hips on yours.

The sounds of your pants along with the slapping of skin was aching your core, your sweaty bodies rubbing against each other.

"Ngh– Trey..m-more!" you cried out as your head dug on the pillows, your nails scratching on Trey's arms as he himself hissed and groaned above you. Your warm cunt was bringing him closer and closer to an orgasm the more he fucked you unto the mattress. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing his cock deeper into you once his hips drilled into you swiftly.

Your moans were increasing in volume the more you felt him penetrate your core. Slamming into your most sensitive spots that sent your back arching and your eyes watering. "More..m-more..!" you whined out. A loud moan left Trey's lips as your walls squeezed his dick. Having to bury his head on your neck to silence himself, the vibrations of his grunts rumbling on his chest. You had to silence yourseld. Your lips instinctively biting on Trey's shoulder before a muffled cry was heard.

"Ah–mngh–..Trey! Right there!" was your muffled cry as the tip of his penis hit that one spot. Tears were running down your eyes already as you hoarsely panted.

"I'm cumming..." Trey hissed through gritted teeth. "L-Let go..I'm pull– gah– pulling out!" His hand held on your knee that remained tightly locked around his waist.

"J-Just cum inside..." you panted. "I'm on....birth control–fuck Trey!" you gasped and arched your back. Your hands gripping on his back as you subconsciously squirted. Your cum drencing the bed and your thighs, your eyes shut tightly as you heaved. Trey kept going. Thrusting hardly into you, a hand gripping your thigh before slamming his hips once last time. You felt his warm semen shoot deep inside your walls, leaving you whining at feeling so full. Feeling how it dripped out your core and unto the sheets.

"Fuck...that's a lot..." He looked down and chuckled tiredly. He slowly pulled his softening cock out of your vagina, seeing a trails of cum leave you. On the other hand, you whined and rolled over to your belly, uncomfortably shifting your hips. "I feel so full," you whined.

Trey laid beside you with a grunt. "You told me to cum inside you," he snickered, moving your hair away from your sweaty face before kissing your nose. "I guess you're mine now. And I'm sorry for how I acted a while ago.."

"Promise me you won't over think again."

"I promise. Either way I got what I wanted now anyways." He smiled and pulled you closer. You hummed and gave a tired smile yourself, your eyes getting heavy as you tried to sit up. "Since I'm yours now–" you sat on your knees, "–bring me to the bathroom. I need to pee and clean up."

"Of course."

Unbeknownst to the both you, a certain dorm leader has accidentally entered the room while you two were having sex. Despite the embarrassment, Riddle was glad both of you didn't notice. He was red and quiet on the way back to his room.

Why did he enter? He was worried since Cater alerted him of your argument with Trey.

Let's just lock our doors next time, yes?

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #night raven college #heartslabyul #octavinelle #trey clover #trey clover x reader #jade leech #ツイストワンダーランド #cater diamond #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto

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fizzyxcustard · 4 years

Text

The Right Thing

Masterlist of all fanfics/headcanons/prompts here

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Pairings: Lucas Wolenczak x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, insecurity, age difference (but legal), language (mild)

Word count: 6505 (a longer one)

Summary: You are a Lieutenant aboard the seaQuest DSV vessel, under Captain Oliver Hudson. You have been aboard for two years and in that time have grown very close to Lucas Wolenczak. But not only are you of higher rank, you are ten years his senior (he’s 20). As your feelings deepen and Lucas opens up to you about how he feels, your anxiety rises. Will everyone be judgemental of you for loving a younger man? Others aboard the boat, and shore leave, help you to see how right you and Lucas are for each other.

Comments: If you have any questions regarding this fic and the fandom, by all means message me. I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback. I will probably try and make graphics for my fics in future if people are interested in reading more of this as I have a full length fic in the works and a prequel one-shot as well. If you would like to be added to my tag list for anything seaQuest related, please leave me a message or comment. The above image shows Captain Oliver Hudson (left) and Ensign Lucas Wolenczak (right) from the show.

Never before had you felt this awkward, torn and utterly disgusted with yourself. Whenever you sat beside Lucas on the bridge, you could feel his stare now and again as he turned his mesmerising blue eyes from the helm monitor. True, you had always had a very deep friendship with Lucas, who was now an Ensign and seemed to be on duty with you more than any other officer, but the tension was becoming too much. He was two months past twenty and you were the wrong side of thirty. However, most people assumed you to be younger than Lonnie, at twenty-one, but no, the years were against you. In fact, you were the same age as Tim O’Neill.

That day was rather uneventful. Your shift passed by without incident. You laughed with Lucas, Jim Brody and Lonnie in the mess hall. But again, you could sense Lucas’ eyes on you.

Captain Hudson was at a UEO summit meeting, leaving Commander Ford in charge. It was always more laid back and chilled when Jonathan Ford took the helm. No complaints, no shouting, no frustration. Ford had been on seaQuest now since her first tour, along with Lucas and Tim. The rest of the crew, including you, came later. All of you missed Captain Bridger, who had been more than just a Captain, but a friend and a fatherly figure.

“Have you got any plans for shore leave?” Lucas asked you suddenly.

You swallowed hard and turned to face him, pulling your headset from off your head. “Not at the moment, no,” you replied. “You?”

This was all your conversations had become now. Idle chit chat. Whereas when Captain Bridger was still your skipper, you and Lucas would spend time together, laughing at stupid movies, listening to music, taunting Tony Piccolo and simply basking in the things of youth.

Lucas knew there was something very wrong between you both; he could sense it. He didn’t have to be like Wendy Smith, psychic; he could see the cold shoulder that you gave him often. He watched you concentrate on your monitor, staring through the glasses that you always wore when on any computer or when writing. The atmosphere had changed aboard the boat when Captain Bridger left, but surely that wasn’t enough to make you grow cold.

When it was time for shift change, you walked off the bridge with Lucas. Both of you strolled slowly, side by side. “Hey, ummm,” Lucas began, stopping in the corridor. “Can we talk?”

“What about?” you asked.

Lucas sighed at the cold, abrupt edge to your tone. “Us….”

“What do you mean us?”

“No…no. It sounded weird, I know. I’m sorry,” Lucas said, silently grilling himself for sounding stupid. “Things just seem weird. We don’t spend time together like we used to, and I guess I…”

“We’ll talk later. In private,” you told him. Officers were speeding past you, starting and ending the shift rotation. It was too open for such a chat. There was a lot that needed to be said. “I’ll come to your quarters about seven. How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Lucas replied with a smile.

As you parted ways, you felt breath catch in your throat. Your hands shook and tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. You felt something for Lucas and you despised yourself, at just over ten years his senior. You were ashamed of it.

It wasn’t until you ventured from your quarters and down the corridors to Lucas’ shared quarters that you realised just how deep his feelings for you ran. You could distinctly hear his voice as you stopped outside the door, which was slightly ajar. The other person, you assumed, was Tony Piccolo.

“You need to tell her, Lucas,” the second voice came. Sure enough, it was Tony.

You waited outside the door, listening.

“I can’t stop thinking about her, Tony.”

“You’ve said that before with girls.”

“This is different. I barely knew Juliana and Sandra. I’ve spent months with her, and when I am with her, it’s like she’s my age. And she cares. I mean truly cares. Probably because she’s just as alone as I am. But lately she’s grown cold towards me. She won’t speak to me sometimes for almost an entire day. There’s no laughing anymore.”

“It’s pretty hard to laugh around here with Hudson in charge,” Tony replied.

You straightened your back and swallowed hard, bracing yourself and tapped on the door.

A few seconds later and Tony appeared. “I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t mind me,” he said, grinning at you. “Go easy on him.” Tony winked at you. All you could do was grimace and then descend the steps down into the main sleeping area which Lucas and Tony shared.

Lucas looked at you, dressed in jeans, Converse and blouse. How could you be the age you were? You looked twenty-two at most. Everything about you enthralled him; your small and discreet tattoos scattered about your body, your quirky sense of humour, the way you cared for everyone and put them before yourself, the odd looking ornaments you kept on your desk and your taste in rock music. Jim Brody had teased many times how your attitude would be suited with Tony Piccolo. But you needed people who were steady and mature.

Things were silent for a short while as you both stood a couple of feet apart, your hands shoved in pockets. Then you broke the silence and looked at Lucas. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. It’s just…Maybe I’m being arrogant, I don’t know. But I sense that you like me…”

“And does that bother you?” Lucas asked, his hands growing more and more sweaty.

“I’m a lot older than you, Lucas,” you reminded him. “You’ve only just become an adult, and I know you forget my age when we spend time together. I’m still young in my appearance and ways. Maybe I haven’t grown up myself yet.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Lucas said softly. “Why does age have to be an issue? We’re good together; I know that you know that.”

His words made something pour in your stomach and you closed your eyes, trying to shake the feelings away. “Lucas, no. Stop it, please,” you whispered.

“You have feelings for me, too. I know you do. I can see it,” he said, approaching you.

You felt his arm wind around your waist, edging you closer towards him.

“Stop it!” you cried out, pushing him away. “No means no!”

You left his quarters only moments later, leaving Lucas behind to slam his hands down onto his desk. Leaving seaQuest was the only way this would end. Lucas would move on and meet a girl his own age. And you would transfer to another boat, hopefully to ace your officer exams and get promoted to Lieutenant Commander.

That evening was long as you drowned in your own thoughts. How could Lucas be what you needed? Would he be prepared to look towards marriage and children within the next two to five years? You would be rushing him, forcing him to put aside all the years of adventure and experience to build a family. Because that was what you wanted. If you met the right man, then you would gladly take time away from your career. And Lucas seemed to think that man was him.

Around nine, a knock came to your door. Your heart leapt and you gasped, expecting it to be Lucas. But it was Tony. You knew why he was here; it didn’t take a lot for anyone to put two and two together to see the reason for his visit.

You let Tony in and sat back down in your seat. “I know why you’ve come to see me, Tony. Lucas doesn’t see the shame I feel every time I look at him.”

“I wanted to see how you’re doing, too. I know Lucas isn’t always the easiest person to say no to. In that way, he’s still a kid.”

You sighed. “We’re both still kids in a lot of ways. I’m going to put in a request for transfer. It’s the only way to solve this.”

“But you can’t,” Tony exclaimed. “Everyone loves you, you know that. It wouldn’t be the same without you. You bring a bit of life to this place.”

Tony’s words brought a smile to your face. “Thanks. This place feels more like a family than I’ve ever had anywhere else outside of my actual family.”

“Look, if you two really do like each other then nothing should stop you. Some people might think the age gap is weird, but who cares? You’re both single adults.”

You sighed again and reached for your mug of coffee which had started growing cold. “I want to think about marriage and settling down. Does Lucas want that? It’s something that needs to be thought about. I can’t be responsible for slowing him down. He’s still young.”

“And so are you. Man, you’re talkin’ as though you’re fifty. Come on!” Tony said.

You barely slept that night, constantly tossing and turning, thinking of Lucas, whom you doubted was asleep either. The air was warm and stale, and your heart raced, reminding you of the anxiety which you kept hidden. Being a Lieutenant in the Navy meant that you had been aboard vessels under attack, had nearly drowned and been shot in the leg. But it was your indecision and shame that caused you to panic uncontrollably.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you flung your legs out from the covers. You flicked on the table lamp and staggered sleepily to your chair. Writing always calmed you. In a world of discipline, uncertainty and instability, you felt so alone. Friendships were strong between you and the main crew, but you had become the glue holding them together. You listened often to Lonnie deny her budding feelings for Jonathan Ford; Tony Piccolo opened his heart to you about his unconventional family; Lucas relied on you for stability and companionship. Now was the time that you needed someone.

After finishing your journal entry, you ventured out into the corridors, finding the gentle hum of seaQuest to be soothing. In the mess hall, you poured yourself a mug of coffee from the vending machine and took a seat in the back corner of the room.

“I thought I was the only one who had insomnia,” a voice came.

“What? Oh, sorry,” you apologised, raising your head out of your hands to see Jim Brody.

“You okay?” Brody asked, approaching you. He was dressed in his uniform, obviously in the middle of night shift.

“I’ll survive,” you chuckled wryly.

“You don’t sound very convincing, you know?”

There was a sincerity in Brody’s eyes that you had always been drawn to. He never minced his words or failed in keeping his promises.

You sighed deeply and looked at your untouched coffee. “How do you handle it when you like someone but have your reservations?”

“What kind of reservations?”

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell another soul? I’m so ashamed.”

Brody began to look puzzled and slightly nervous. “Umm, okay.”

“Lucas admitted that he has feelings for me, and I know I feel something for him. But the age gap terrifies me, Jim. And you know how sulky he can be when you say no to him.”

Brody smiled and then sighed. “I know you two have always been close, but maybe if you’re feeling uncomfortable, it’s something you need to deal with yourself. You’re both adults and it’s down to you both. Don’t try and seek everyone else’s approval.”

“That’s what makes me ashamed: everyone else’s judgement.”

The shame and embarrassment of your admission made you look away and run your shaking hands through your short hair. It made you think back to the day you had your long locks cut off, which was the day before your first tour on seaQuest. It was an almost boyish cut, but there was no mistaking your femininity.”

“It’ll work out, I’m sure. Thanks for listening, Jim,” you said, forcing a smile.

You remained in the mess hall for a short while longer, sipping your coffee. The tall, broad figure of Dagwood drifted past the door as he cleaned. He never noticed you, but you watched him for a couple of seconds; his attention to his duty was unbroken and unwavering.

Sleep finally took you away a couple of hours later. In the dark of your quarters, you began counting. Gradually your heart rate slowed.

Suddenly your alarm was blaring! Pain rested behind your eyes and in your temples. No doubt it would remain with you for the rest of the day.

After a shower, you got dressed into your uniform and headed for the mess hall for breakfast. The bright overhead lights assaulted your eyes, making you wince.

Lucas, Tony and Lonnie were all sat together to the left hand side of the room. You suddenly felt sick, insanely sick. Tony looked at you, his eyes widening. Thankfully Lucas had his back to you. It was impossible for you to avoid him now; once you were up for duty, you couldn’t go back to quarters until the next shift rotation. On an almost mile-long submarine, and you couldn’t hide.

You grabbed fruit and a mug of herbal tea. With a huge sigh, you approached the table where your friends were, a spare seat having been left between Tony and Lucas.

Lucas swallowed hard and shifted in his seat as your perfume wafted up his nose, mixed with the smell of your sweet-scented hand cream.

“Morning,” you said softly. Your eyes met Lucas’ and you could see the sadness swimming in them.

“You look awful,” Lonnie said. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t sleep much last night,” you said, forcing another smile. “And it’s caught up with me this morning.”

By now and you could feel your pulse racing, thumping in your head and chest. Your hands were shaking, and you knew the day wouldn’t get any easier. Tony kept watching you as the atmosphere remained tense. Lonnie left a few minutes later, uncomfortable by the silence.

Lucas was looking down most of the time and once Tony had also left, he spoke, but didn’t look at you. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” you admitted, swallowing hard.

Lucas heard the quiver in your voice and finally looked at you. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Almost on instinct, you placed your hand on his. “We’ll be okay. Whatever happens, we’ll be okay. Shore leave in two days. We can talk more then.”

That morning seemed to ease some of the tension between Lucas and you. On the bridge, you began to ease back into your laughter. You temporarily forgot your fatigue and the events of the evening previous. Until Lucas held your gaze for a few seconds longer than usual. Normally you looked away, trying to avert his attention elsewhere, but this time you maintained eye contact and smiled.

Tony smirked to himself, recognising that look anywhere.

The next two days passed without incident. You felt more at ease now and found yourself making jokes out of mundane things. As it always had, it entertained Tony greatly. The two of you played off each other in the mess hall. A lot of your jokes were at Captain Hudson’s expense. To most people, you outwardly seemed more suited to Tony Piccolo, but those closest to you knew better. The bond you shared with Lucas was unlike any other relationship on the boat. Even though you paled into insignificance when it came to Lucas’ IQ, you could both normally tell what the other was thinking with just one smile.

On the evening before shore leave officially started, Lucas remained in his quarters after shift rotation. There was still a deep pain when he saw you. When you turned your head and smiled, your eyes shining bright, he knew that he would love no other smile. Your attention to detail was unparalleled; that was obvious from the drawings of yours which littered your bedside wall. Your mind didn’t store facts, theories and calculations like Lucas’; it was curious, deep, questioning. You observed deeply. Your genius was in colours, shape, emotion, behaviour. Not cold fact like Lucas.

The Navy had taught you to be disciplined, orderly. No more piles of clothes left at the end of your bed or un-pressed clothing that hoped no one would notice. Why had you even enlisted? Was it your wanderlust? Perhaps. Or maybe it was a way to get away from the ordinary world and embrace your difference.

A sudden knock came to your door, a metallic tap.

“Come in,” you called, placing your copy of The Lord of the Ringsback on your shelf.

Lucas entered, not quite sure why he was even visiting.

“Sorry. I was tidying. You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied.

“You think so?”

Lucas sat down on the edge of your bed and looked up at you as you placed your hands on your hips.

“Please don’t do that. You remind me of my mom,” he chuckled.

Somehow, that comment didn’t amuse you quite as much as it did Lucas. It hit a rather raw nerve that you had hoped you had figured out how to manage.

Lucas got up from his spot and stood before you, being slightly taller. “What?” he asked. You turned your head, shame surging through you again. But just then, the gentlest touch came to your cheek. Lucas’ large blue eyes were full of concern and adoration for you. His hand cupped your face and seconds later, you felt his lips against yours. Soft, unsure, but above all, kind. The kiss of a young man, some ten years your junior, was enough to remind you that there was still kindness in the world, especially amongst the male of the species.

Realisation hit you hard in the stomach and you turned from the kiss. You heard Lucas sigh and stepped back. “Have you thought about this properly? We’re at different stages in our lives. You’re just starting out in your adult years to find out what you’d like…”

Lucas cut you off. “You talk as though I have no idea what I want.”

You looked at him sadly, seeing the frustration in his face. “What experience have you had? Do you know if you want to get married? Have children? These are probably things you haven’t even considered yet. I’ve been forced to push it aside because I’m too different.”

Lucas remained quiet, not quite sure what to say.

“Please think on this more,” you said.

“I have,” he said in desperation, his hands cupping your face again. “I want to be with you, and whatever you want, you can have it.” His voice became a whisper and you kissed again.

You woke a few hours later at just after one in the morning. There was a solid warmth against your back and an arm draped over you. The two of you had fallen asleep after an evening of chatter and cuddles under the blanket.

In all the time that you had known Lucas, which was two years, you had never seen him smile so much as he had done that evening. True, since enlisting in the Navy, Lucas had had to grow up somewhat and that change in him had been amazing, going from a boy to a man. A seriousness had settled in him, overriding the boyishness.

You slid out of bed and positioned the blanket back over Lucas. He rolled over and mumbled in his sleep. Something about this still felt wrong. It made you concerned that everyone would see it as predatory. Everything that felt wrong was pushing you to begin writing up that transfer request. Crew from the infamous seaQuest were always welcomed aboard other UEO vessels. The sub still remained the pinnacle of the fleet, highly sought after by new officers for their first tour. A reserve list with thousands of names on had been written up, and if you left, then you’d open a door to someone more deserving of their placement. Allowing Lucas to get close to you had been an abuse of your authority.

“You’re making a habit of this, ain’t you?” Brody laughed, finding you in the mess hall again at an ungodly hour for the second time that week.

“Maybe I am,” you chuckled. “My sleep routine is shot to shit.”

“Did you get things sorted with Lucas?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned. “It still feels wrong. I’m seriously considering putting in a transfer. But I know that Hudson will only take a valid reason before signing off my request.”

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Brody leaned closer to you across the table.

“I can’t stay, Jim. Things are getting too deep between me and Lucas, and I know that he’s always going to expect something that I can’t give him.”

“I can’t force you to go against what you think is right, but you know we’d all miss you. None of us would want to see you go.”

“I know that, and I thank you so much. You’ve all supported me and I absolutely love working on this boat.”

“Yeah, it is a great place.”

Suddenly, you stopped rigid, eyes wide as Lucas wondered into the room. Brody turned after seeing your expression, and then wished you both a goodnight.

“You okay?” Lucas asked, replacing Brody in the seat opposite you.

“Got a lot on my mind,” you told him.

Lucas reached out and curled his hand around yours. “What’s up? Talk to me.”

Tears filled your eyes and fell down your cheeks. “I can’t do this…I’m sorry…”

“What have I done?” he whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” you sobbed. Your gripped his hand tighter until he came and sat at your side. “You need someone your own age. I’m taking advantage of you with my authority and rank.”

“How are you taking advantage of me?”

“I’m ten years older than you and I’m a Lieutenant.”

“And why should that matter?”

“I…” words were lost.

“We’re both legal age and consenting adults. So does it really matter?” You remained quiet. Then you heard the gentle whisper of your name. “Does it really matter?” he asked again.

“I was considering putting in a transfer,” you said, the words tumbling from your mouth like an avalanche.

“No….no,” Lucas begged, drawing his hand up your face. “Don’t leave me.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his hand and lean into his touch.

“Captain Bridger left. I don’t know if I could handle you leaving, too.” Lucas’ eyes were wide and full to the brim of tears. Everyone in Lucas’ life had left him or cared little, never putting him as their priority.

And you knew then that no matter the outcome of your relationship status, you couldn’t leave. Lucas needed an open ear, heart and mind to express himself to. He’d found that in you.

As everyone prepared their belongings in order to enjoy three days of shore leave, you sat in your quarters with music playing away on your com-link. There was a positive buzz outside your door and foot traffic was loud. It was always the same whenever shore leave was approaching.

A knock came to your door.

Tony appeared. “Mornin’!” he chirped happily. “All ready to go?”

“Yes, I think so,” you replied.

“Lucas told me about your conversation over the transfer. I’m glad you told him you’d thought about it. Are you still considering it?”

You sighed and looked towards Tony. “No, I’ve decided not to leave. Whatever happens, I know my place is here. Lucas has had enough people walk out on him. He needs at least one person to stay.”

“Make sure you’re stayin’ for the right reasons.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay,” you replied with a smile.

“I do. We all do. But you’ve got to want to stay for yourself.”

“Everyone here feels like the friends I never had and the family I lost touch with. Of course I don’t want to leave.”

As everyone began gathering in the corridors to head to the docking bays, you stood between Lucas and Brody, dressed in your shore uniform. As usual, Tony was telling jokes to keep everyone amused.

“Do you ever pause for breath?” you asked, laughing.

“Only when I’m sleepin’, and even then I still talk,” Tony countered.

“He’s right there,” Lucas mumbled.

Shore leave began with all of you checking into a local hotel in downtown just from the seaQuest berth. As usual, the UEO paid for all expenses incurred on shore leave.

Lucas looked on a little suspiciously when you announced that you were next door to Brody and Lonnie, but he was on the floor below. He merely smiled at you, swept a glance to Brody and Lonnie, then disappeared to his own room.

In your room, you placed your bag down on the bed and began inspecting the cleanliness of the place.

You made sure you had a bath before doing anything else. The heat relaxed you and the sweet scent of lavender and jasmine wrapped around you. For a short while and you forgot all the trials in life, all the things that kept you up at night and made you over think. Suddenly, your phone began to chime. With a groan of irritation, you lifted yourself out of the tub, wound a thick towel around yourself and picked up the ringing nuisance from your bed.

“Are you alright? You took a while to answer,” Lucas’ questioning voice came.

“I’m fine. I was taking a bath.”

“Oh, okay. Do you mind if I come and see you?”

“Give me ten minutes to get dressed. I’m in room 712.”

“Okay. Bye.”

He seemed put out somehow. You sensed disappointment in his voice. Did he think you were avoiding him purely because you took time to answer his call? There was definitely a lot that needed to be ironed out between you both.

Lucas came to your room shortly afterwards, holding two paper cups of coffee, probably from the vending machine on his floor.

You thanked him for the coffee and then sat opposite him on your bed. You pulled your leg under yourself and watched him lower his head in that way he always did when he was unsure. “If this is how things are going to be between us now, then I wish they would just go back to how they were,” he said. His voice as pained by the realisation of all the tension he’d placed on your once deep friendship. For a young man who was so intelligent, far beyond that of most people, he held a lot of insecurity and uncertainty. He wore his heart on his sleeve and had never been able to hide his true emotions. There was an honesty and innocence that drew you in. A purity of heart. But also a sadness. If everyone else had abandoned him, how could you be so selfish and do the same thing?

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

Lucas was staring blankly into his coffee. “This. All of it.” He then looked up at you. “The last few days have been hell. I haven’t known what to say or do. And even if you don’t feel anything for me, can we just go back to the way things were?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’ve driven a gap between us out of my own fear. Maybe I felt that backing away would help. Being around each other constantly only makes the feelings deepen. I’ve missed you and I do have feelings for you. A lot of them. I was scared of everyone judging me because I’m older and abusing my authority. I have to be careful, Lucas. Especially now that Captain Bridger is gone. He didn’t push Naval code like Hudson does.”

“I know that,” Lucas said, edging in a little closer towards you. That beautiful scent. It made his deeper instinct ride; butterflies were flapping with ferocity in his gut. “You worry too much about what other people think of you.”

“We’re not civilians, Lucas,” you reminded him.

“What would you have done with your life if you never enlisted?”

You took a sip of your coffee and smiled. “As a kid, I always wanted to be a vet, so I’d have worked with animals more than likely.”

“What made you enlist? You’ve never had that typical Navy way about you.”

“I finished university with a useless degree in English and I saw advertisements at a job fayre. I wanted something new and interesting. I almost failed my initial medical though.”

“Why?”

“I was taking medication for panic attacks. I stopped taking it a week before my examination and never declared it. Who wants a Naval officer who’s always anxious?”

“I don’t believe that at all. You’re probably the most chilled of anyone when we have an emergency.”

You chuckled. “I’ve learned to control it. And I find when I’m leading others, I’m more at ease. I can be calm for other people but not myself.”

That evening, a large group of you decided to head for a sit down meal at a local restaurant. Piano music was playing overhead and the lighting was dimmed, adding to a relaxing atmosphere. The waiter, a hook-nosed Italian man in overly tightly trousers, guided you over to a large, round table in the back corner.

You nudged Brody and pointed to the waiter. “It’s a wonder he doesn’t pop a nut.”

Lonnie and Tony immediately smiled, enjoying the fact that your usual self was coming back to the surface.

The whole meal was laid back, fun and light-hearted. You couldn’t help but notice the subtle glances that were exchanged between Lonnie and Jonathan Ford. Tim O’Neill seemed a little irritated by it, rolling his eyes a couple of times. When you saw Tim be so quiet, it reminded you of Miguel Ortiz, whom you had had a slight crush on when you first came aboard seaQuest. He and Tim had been good friends, and since Miguel’s passing in combat, Tim seemed a little lost at times.

By the time that the meal was over, most of the group had disappeared into the bar. There was only you, Lonnie and Jonathan Ford left at the table, which made you feel like a spare part. You excused yourself and walked out the front door of the restaurant. Chatter and laughter filled the air outside on the veranda. Dozens of people were drinking, eating and enjoying the night time air.

You began to walk, crossing the street and heading onto the empty beach. The chill in the air, the bright, full moon and the sound of crashing waves soothed you. In a hectic world where you were constantly fighting for control, you were now centred. Everything was simple. No worry. No orders. Just the stars, sand and sea.

Lucas looked for you, only to spot you standing on the beach. He could tell you from across the street. Proud shoulders, hands in pockets, bright coloured blouse, bandana in hair. That could only be you.

“You okay?” he asked.

You turned and smiled, then stepped back towards him. You curled your arm through his and put your head on his shoulder. The two of you remained quiet for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company. To Lucas’ surprise, you took his hand and held it tight.

Tony and Brody looked on from the front of the restaurant.

“If the age gap is their only concern then they’ve got more going for them than most couples,” Brody said.

“He’s definitely lucky to have her.”

By the time you made it back to the bar in the restaurant, you and Lucas were hand in hand. Tony grinned at you both and then cheered, drawing attention from the rest of the crew who were all sat in a booth together.

Laughter ensued almost immediately as all the men, apart from Lucas, began competing in a drinking game.

“One, two, three,” Tony counted, banging his free hand on the table top. All of the participants of the game tossed shots down their throats, then proceeded to continue on with a further two, downing them as quickly as possibly without vomiting. Tim O’Neill gagged, almost propelling his meal from his gut. Jim Brody fell into a coughing fit. Jonathan Ford blinked hard, pushing vodka-induced tears away. Tony merely laughed, playing a drum beat on the table.

You could sense Lucas’ eyes on you as you sat beside each other. His arm was stretched across the back of the seat behind you. His nerves were finally beginning to settle a little, reminding himself again and again that it was still you. You were the same person he had known now for almost two years and had had a bad crush on the whole time. There were so many times that he had imagined how you would feel under his fingertips, the way your lips would taste against his, the sound of your hitched breath as you kissed with passion. And you did not disappoint. All of his fantasies had fallen short of the beauty of reality.

Around midnight and the men of the group were considerably less sober than when they’d arrived for dinner just over four hours earlier. Tony was now daring Brody to go swimming in the sea naked, which the Lieutenant was actually considering to do. Ford and O’Neill were arm wrestling, leaving you to chat with Lucas and Lonnie. A bottle of expensive red wine was on the table. Lonnie sipped from her glass now and again, encouraging you to have a drink, but you never drank alcohol as it only made your anxiety worse.

“I’m going to retire to bed, I think,” you announced.

“I’ll walk you back,” Lucas proposed.

Together, you and Lucas began your short walk back to the hotel. You strolled along comfortably hand in hand. People walked past you, glancing at you for only a brief second before continuing on. No one stared like you thought they would. They were all unawares of the age gap between you both that you always thought was noticeable.

You woke the next morning to bright sunlight shining through the open curtains. Lucas was lying with his back to you. You slipped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Lucas heard the toilet flush and looked up at the ceiling, smiling. Would you regret the night previously? He hoped so much that you wouldn’t.

“Good morning,” you said with a smile, exiting the bathroom in your pyjamas.

“Morning,” Lucas replied, groggy with sleep and happiness.

You slipped back into bed and rolled over to him, kissing his lips. He seemed to gain more confidence the more that you kissed. The tension was seeping out of your actions the more that you acted on your feelings. Fear was losing its grip on you.

Both of you remained in bed for a short while, until you announced that you were getting dressed to head downstairs for breakfast.

“I’m tired,” Lucas groaned.

“Get up, Ensign. That’s an order,” you chuckled.

“Now who’s abusing their authority, Lieutenant?”

“Well if you’re expecting any kind of repeat of last night then you’re going to have to be well-behaved now, aren’t you?”

“You never seemed the type to subject me to blackmail.”

“I’m going to head down,” you said, putting the conversation back on a serious note. “Do you want me to bring you anything back up?”

Lucas just smiled. “I’ll come down with you.”

When you got downstairs, Lonnie and Commander Ford were already sat at a table for two. You and Lucas made yourself comfortable just across from them.

“How’s the head, Commander?” you chuckled.

“Strangely it’s okay. For now. No quick and sudden movements and I should be fine,” he replied with a smile.

You poured yourself a mug of English tea and began to eat your breakfast which had been served.

Tim O’Neill came half staggering into the large dining area and plopped down on a seat next to Lucas. “Remind me to never drink again,” he groaned.

Lucas looked up at you ever now and again, his blue eyes twinkling with something you hadn’t seen before. Contentment maybe? Or perhaps happiness? Whatever it was, you knew he needed both, and you hoped that you had given that to him.

The rest of that day was fairly eventful, with a visit to the local art museum with Lucas, Lonnie and Commander Ford.

Jonathan Ford couldn’t deny that he was shocked by the sudden and dramatic change in yours and Lucas’ relationship dynamic. His Navy instinct told him that something needed to be said, a warning to you both of potential consequences. But the kind side of him won out. Why try and damage that haze of happiness that was suspended around you both? Once Captain Hudson returned to the seaQuest, a relationship was something that you and Lucas would have to either end or keep secret. No way would Hudson advocate romance on his boat.

At the beach during the afternoon, Tony sat beside Lucas whilst you remained with Lonnie, enjoying an ice cream cone.

“So? What happened last night? Brody told me that you stayed in her room,” Tony enquired.

“Yeah, I stayed with her. What happened is none of your business,” Lucas replied.

“Lucas, come on! You gotta tell me. I didn’t arm you with rubber for nothin’!”

Lucas merely smirked. “Lets just say that it was put to good use.”

“Way to go, my boy!” Tony exclaimed.

“Tony, shut up. She’s only over there,” Lucas growled.

“So, I need details. How was it? Was she good?”

“None of your business,” Lucas hissed and moved away. He approached you and Lonnie, and as he looked at you, he knew there was only one word that could have described the night previously: incredible. No way was he about to disrespect you and discuss your private life with others.

“Can I borrow you for a few minutes?” he asked you.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, and got up from the warm sand. “Everything okay?”

You both moved away from the rest of the group. “Yeah. I just wanted to be alone with you for a while.”

The two of you took a slow walk down to the water’s edge, the tide returning from its long descent out towards the horizon. Hand in hand, you were silent for a few minutes. The sun’s rays were warm against your back, but a gentle breeze refreshed the air, biting through the humidity. You felt that inner calm come flooding to the surface again. Lucas’ arm wound around your waist and you prayed in silence that this was the right thing for both of you.

#seaquest #seaquest dsv #seaquest 2032 #Lucas wolenczak #captain Oliver hudson #Jonathan brandis #Michael ironside #Lucas wolenczak x you #Lucas wolenczak x reader #Lucas wolenczak x fem!reader #reader insert #lieutenant lonnie henderson #commander Jonathan ford #lieutenant James brody #dagwood #Tony piccolo #lieutenant Tim o'neill

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