nsfw bf!sapnap x female!reader....so, minors do not interact! read it or whatever idgaf just dont reblog or comment or like the post. its pretty long already but it could have been longer lol.
so enjoy! or dont.... :) m.list
bf!sapnap who invites you over to the house to hang out like normal but it just so happens that you two get pulled into drinking by the other two
bf!sapnap who would have a few too many white claws and gets a little more touchy the more the alcohol starts to hit. feelin up the sides of you waist and hips, messing with the bottom of your shorts, and pressing himself into you
bf!sapnap who heavily denies it when george notices the bulge in his shorts and starts laughing loudly about it while calling him weird
bf!sapnap who has to pull you to his room into because he cant handle the ache between his legs. but obviously he cant pull you away without the other two saying something.
"wait, nick where are you going!?" dream asked loudly, giggling with george
"ew he's gonna go have sex" george scrunched up his face in disgust
"so what if i am?" sapnap would respond, pushing you up the stairs
bf!sapnap would then immediately kiss you once he closed the door behind him, locking it and pushing you towards the bed
he would make you sit as he gets down on his knees and starts kissing down your body
bf!sapnap who groans happily when you throw his hat off his head and grip tightly onto his hair. all while he practically rips your shorts off and kisses up and down your thighs
bf!sapnap who licks up your slit through your panties, humming at the warmth radiating from you. he forcefully tugs them off and presses rough kisses on your slit, smiling at the way you throw your head back and tug harder at his hair
HE cant handle teasing you so much. he cant help but to start eating you out desperately. if he was being honest, he was probably enjoying it more than you. with every jaw movement he made, his beard rubbed against you deliciously
bf!sapnap who would make you cum so nicely and lick up every drop that spills out of you, making you squirm away from him and push his head away.
or
bf!sapnap who gets so worked up with you sitting on his lap and kissing up and down his neck. he would have his hands holding your hips and waist, trying to grind up into you as discretely as possible
bf!sapnap who tries to act like youre not affecting him so much when you ask him if hes alright as you grind down into him slowly
bf!sapnap who cant help it when he moans at a particular grind of your hips and the unbelievable amount of heat radiating from your core
bf!sapnap who has to hurridly pull you off his lap to remove his sweatpants and boxers. and if you happen to not be moving fast enough for him, he'll help you out by practically tearing your own pants and underwear off of your legs
bf!sapnap who grips your hips tightly and forces you to straddle him before he kisses you roughly, placing one hand on your neck and the other one on your waist
he would start rocking his hips against you, shuddering at the feeling of your wet slit running along his dick
bf!sapnap who pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours when you start to rub yourself against him.
he fills with a sense of pride when you moan softly at the heat hes giving off between the lips of your pussy
bf!sapnap who helps you grind against him faster. he moans right against your ear as the wet sounds fill the room, his words barely filtering in your mind
"fuck, peaches, im not even- fuck- inside you... and you feel so fucking good. shit."
"yea?" it comes out like a whine, "you like me grinding on you like this?"
"yea- shit- cum on my cock. fuck- go ahead"
lol. it wasnt too detailed but whatever. remember to send asks, comment, or like to show support, i really appreciate it. or dont, thats fine too lol. thats it... bye -Nony
or: sapnap invites you over to carve pumpkins with his kid sister. halloween traditions ensue
not part of a series, but in the same universe as this fic. i don’t know either
tw: cursing, southern!sapnap
they/them reader
she/her for his sister, i don’t know a way around it and i also named her like oops also as usual thanks to @harbingerofheartbreak for letting me steal one of her names and always helping me uh
there’s yelling coming from inside the house.
you can see sapnap, a kiss the cook apron tied around his waist, a backwards hat on his head and one oven mitt on, yelling into another room.
but the thing is, the smile never leaves his face.
a deep breath,you fix your hair in the reflection of the door (because this is obviously not a date. just Sapnap who wanted company while carving pumpkins) and rang the doorbell.
you act like you don’t see his head whip up, fear on his face for a second as he throws the oven mitt on the table, takes his hat off to fix his hair, only to jam it back over his head.
“Don’t answer the door, it could be a stranger-“
you hear him yelling, not even able to finish it as the door freaks open, and his little sister pops her head out.
“are you here to kill us?” she asks in a small voice, and she wears the same smile Sapnap has on his face.
“Hi Ames,” you coo. “i don’t think so, not today at least.” you tease back as you kneel on the concrete steps.
“Sap, they said they weren’t here to kill us!” she yells over her shoulder, but Sapnap is behind her, rolls his eyes.
“Yeah,” he snorts, “I heard. I don’t think a killer would exactly tell us before they kill is though, hmm?”
he tickles her side and she giggles but he keeps going and she squeals into his side until he picks her up, swings her over his shoulder and tickles her as she lays on his shoulder.
“isn’t that right, darlin’?” he finishes as she giggles over his shoulder.
“Sorry about her,” Sapnaps face is lightly pink, “she’s been talking about you all day.”
“that’s not true!” she struggles to be heard over his shoulder, “Sap was! he said-“
he huffs, and she’s on the ground, a smile on her face so she obviously knows what she’s doing, Sapnap kneeling in front of her: “I put clothes on your bed. go change.”
Amelie does a fake gasp, “But my pretty dress!” her face falls, crocodile tears on the horizon, “You don’t like my dress?”
He rolls his eyes, “Of course I like your dress, darlin’’. I chose it.” he tickles her side until she’s smiling and his voice drops, “We don’t want yucky pumpkin guts on your pretty dress, right Aimes?”
she gasps, a theatrical kid, “Pumpkin guts?! Yuck!” she giggles and he nods:
“Exactly. Hurry up, put it on and we’ll get carvin’, yeah?” and she nods and all but runs out of the room.
Sapnap stands, his face pink like he’s embarrassed to show this soft side of him. “Sorry uh-c’mon, i’ll show you the kitchen. it’s not a long walk.” he snorts and jams the hat back over his head, a nervous habit of his youve slowly picked up on.
You follow closely behind, take the time to look at the walls as you pass. Sapnap is sentimental, even if he insists he’s not; art work from school and library reading programs line the wall, her name carefully written in Sapnap’s unmistakable chicken scratch writing in the corner, her age next to it.
if a wall isn’t covered in her art work, it’s covered with the two of them: her on his lap, faces pressed together, dressed up for past halloweens in handmade costumes (Sapnaps fingers covered in bandaids, obviously he stayed up countless days and hours to make them, to have her have a good halloween-)
“Short walk,” Sapnap snorts, “Here.” and he pulls a wooden chair out for you to sit on as he shuffles to the kitchen.
“Okay, confession time.” he sighs, his hand rests on the bar to the fridge. “I have bad news and good news.”
you hold in a sigh, afraid the bad news is: i hate you and you’re only here because my kid sister loves you for some reason or we need to do this quick, i want you out-
“Go ahead.” you hope your voice sounds steady.
“So,” his head disappears in the fridge, appears with a large mason jar, “I had midterms, so i didn’t have time to make apple cider. we’re telling Ames this is homemade, she won’t know the difference.”
you snort out relief, a weight from your shoulders gone, “Homemade apple cider too? I thought you hated Autumn, Sap.” you tease.
“i do!” he insists, “But Ames loves it, so unfortunately, that means i love it. It was our moms tradition so-“
there’s some weight there but it doesn’t sit, and instead you laugh and he comes back over with a smaller cup, mis matched form whats in his hand, of apple cider, warmed up, and hands it off to you:
“cheers.” he says gently and you smile back and clink the side of his cup gently, taking a sip.
Sapnap chugs it back, wipes his hands on his jeans and goes to the stove, stirring something in a pot.
“What’s the good news?” you call back gently as you watch him in his element, a smile on his face as he stirs. He hasn’t said it, but you were hit in the face by the smell of chicken noodle soup, so it’s obvious that’s it.
“Hm?” he calls back, finally looking at you.
“you said good news and bad news,” you reason, turning the cup over in your hands, “so what’s the good news?”
he snorts, “good news?” his eyes travel to the ceiling, “Hm. good news i guess is your pick of two: my amazing homemade pumpkin seeds we make or my amazing homemade soup.”
you laugh, “i think my favorite thing about you is how modest you are.” you tease back gently.
“I’ve been told before.” he teases back again, “Oh! here.” he puts the spoon on top of a box of pasta to the side, pads over to you and grabs a shirt off the chair.
“I uh-so you don’t get your shirt fucked up when we’re carvin’.” and he seems nervous, as he gently passes it over, some over sized light blue dress shirt, “use it as a smock, or whatever. we take carvin’ seriously here.”
and to hide his pink face, he beelines for the stove, occupies himself with it as you turn the shirt over in your hands.
it’s nice of him, very nice. the shirt you’re wearing is a program shirt from a library program you run, definitely not anything fancy, or anything s good wash wouldn’t get out-but it’s such a nice thought you unbutton it and slowly put your arms into it-
it smells like him.
minty, mostly. you’ve only had the smell of him linger briefly and not in a creepy way-like when you babysit Amelie late when he has a late project due, or he picks her up from a library program-he always pulls you in for this hug after, like you’re his long lost best friend or something, anything more-
Amelie comes running down the stairs, making Sapnap flinch, “Ames, if i have to take you to the hospital we won’t have time to carve pumpkins!” he reminds her gently.
she comes into the kitchen, obviously wearing one of his shirts, too big on her, is down to her knees, and long pajama bottoms, but has a large smile on her face.
“Nu uh, Sap!” she teases, “we won’t cause i’m careful!”
she’s shaking her head so hair hits either side of her face.
“mhm.” he rolls his eyes he opens a drawer in the kitchen, “c’mere, you’re a mess. you’re gonna get hair all over my kitchen table.” but he says it with fondness in his voice, he disappears, kneeling on the floor and you can see his hands carefully work through her hair, put little rubber bands around her hair.
and she appears a second later, messy piggy tails now.
“Go sit down. Apple cider?” he asks, nudging her towards the table, where she flops down next to you.
a gasp. “Mhm!” her eyes narrow, “is it homemade?”
he rolls his eyes, “of course it’s homemade! what kind of monster do you think i am?”
and you look up at him and he winks at you as he takes a cup down and pours the juice into there.
“hopefully not a monster like the ones under beds!” Amelie gasps, eyes wide as she moves her hands around, now talking to you. “Sap always checks for mon’sers under the bed before bedtime but he says he never finds any.”
sapnap tickles her side as he hands over the cup and she leans into it, giggling, as he speaks; “that’s right. cause monsters know not to mess with me.”
You bite your lip at how cute the two of them interacting is, but Amelie is standing on the chair, sapnaps hand hovering on her lower back, as she talks wildly with her hands about monsters.
“c’mon, Ames. Wanna help me carry pumpkins in?” she nods furiously, hops off the chair, and the two of you follow Sapnap to the front door, as he opens it, gently pushes to the front and hands Amelie her pumpkin first, it’s tiny and small, puts it in her hands:
“you got it, Ames?” he says gently, “careful.” he says as she slowly teeters to the kitchen table with the small pumpkin.
“i can carry yours.” you laugh, feeling like it’s the least you could do.
he snorts, “please. what kind of gentleman would i be?” and he turns around, two pumpkins under his arms, clearly struggling, “besides,you got your own to take care of.”
you stare wide eyed at him, because that’s so nice and not expected, thought you were coming over to watch and like, maybe help Amelie carve, not make your own.
you shut the front door and jog to his side, where Amelie is putting down old newspaper to cover the dining room table, “Sap,” you say gently, “you didn’t have to buy me one. lemme pay you back.”
he laughs. a hard laugh.
“I’m literally never going to take your fuckin’ money. besides, your practically part of the family, you got to at least participate in the competition, isn’t that right, Ames?” he says as he sets your pumpkin under newspaper, gently plays with Amelie’s hair.
“Mhm!” she agrees with whatever her big brother says.
“that’s nice of you,” you say gently, as Sapnap pulls your chair out again and has you sit down again, picks Amelie up by her armpits and sets her on the chair next to you. “i’m just-gonna feel so bad when i kick your butt in the competition.”
Amelie gasps and giggles, “Sap always use to win against Mama.”
he puffs his chest out, wearing it with pride. “That’s right-“
“‘cept that one year-“
“ah!” Sapnap says, face pink again as he gently has his hand over her mouth, “we don’t talk about that, remember peaches?”
she giggles and licks his hand so he pulls it away, fake horror, before he leans in and kisses her forehead.
“i’ll get the tools, gimme a second.”
and he pads to the stove, another stir of the soup, before going to a cabinet and pulling out a small orange nylon bag of tools.
“Alright, lemme get Ames set up real quick.” he’s at her side, picks her up by under her armpits and steals her seat, sets her on top of his lap as he passes her a permanent marker.
her tongue hangs out of the side of her mouth as she carefully draws a circle around the stem, caps it and hands it back.
“Good?” Sapnap asks, picks up the kitchen knife carefully, waits until she nods for confirmation, and begins sawing around the stem in a circle, her hand on top of his as he slowly, carefully cuts the top off.
her hand immediately goes into the top, starts pulling the insides out, a fit of laughter.
sapnap watches her fondly, hands over a permanent marker to you.
“you got this?” he teases gently and you roll your eyes in mock anger.
he watches you carefully the entire time, a smile on his face, as you draw the circle yourself, watches with a careful eye as you take the top off, but the seeds to the side.
he sets up across from you, eyes narrowed as he does the same, getting up occasionally to help Amelie with a seed she can’t reach or anything small like that-
“Go draw a face, darlin’.” Sapnap says as he passes her the marker again, grabs a bowl and carefully picks it apart to throw the seeds in.
Amelie is busy, humming to herself as she draw a face, that Sapnap absentmindedly comes to your side, grabs the seeds. “need help?” you ask gently, and he almost looks surprised for s second, as you’re moving without waiting for an answer, putting the seeds in.
“i gotta watch,” you tease gently, “learn the secret behind the homemade pumpkin seeds.”
he snorts, ducks his head as he pads to the sink, you in toe, and carefully wash them off, hands it back to you as you pat them dry and spread them on a cooking sheet.
“You gotta tell me the secret.” you tease again gently, “is it salt? or hm?” your eyes travel to the ceiling, where little paper bats, obviously homemade, hang up.
“the secret,” sapnap indulges, voice low but wears a smirk, “is lots of cinnamon.”
you snap your fingers, “figures. i’ll be the judge of how amazing they are.” you tease.
“Sap makes the best pumpkin seeds,” Amelie calls, her face still on the pumpkin, “everyone knows that.”
he smiles, nudges you so you know he’s kidding, “That’s right, Ames. thank you, peaches.”
you bite your lip to stop yourself from teasing him about this southern accent twang that only comes out when he’s talking to Amelie (or when he’s very excited) because you’ve mentioned it before and he pulls a face, eyebrows squished together, insists “i don’t have a fuckin’ accent!”
“you’ll see.” he teases again, nudging you, “you’ll see you’ll see.” he hums.
Sapnap shoves the baking sheet into the oven once it beeps that it’s preheated, and pads back to the chair, Amelie in his lap as he carefully cuts out the face she made.
“Spooky, Ames.” he teases gently, “Spoooooky this year.” he holds out the ‘o’
“to keep the ghouls and ghosts away, Sap!” she insists, “like that story you read!”
He looks up and you’re looking at him confused and his face flushes pink, “just-just some silly bedtime story I read her is all.” he insists, and immediately tries to change the subject.
“Think you can handle this?” Sapnap teases you, hands you a marker again.
you roll your eyes, “i think i got it. i think you’re just scared, hm?”
he snorts, “Oh, you wish-“
“Oh ye of little faith,” you sigh, a smile on your lips, “You’ll see.”
sapnap finishes first, the eyes are fucked up and crooked, but the mouth is good, scary even- promptly sets it next to Ames and pulls her onto his lap as he squishes his face against hers and tickles her, points out the little things he likes about hers (“the spooky eyes, darlin’. ooh!”)
you finish and it’s well-not great, accidentally cut half an eye off, and the mouth is crooked, but Sapnap oohs and awes at it until your face is flushed pink, picks yours and his up and grabs a lighter off the table, shoves it into his pocket and leads you outside.
night has fallen in small town suburbia, the moon high in the sky, the street lights on and crickets chirp. Amelie sets her on the top step, takes the top off and accepts the tea light candle from Sapnap gently sets it in, and he does the same for yours and his, crouches and sets the wick, Amelie’s job to put the tops on back carefully.
Sapnap knocks into your hand accidentally as the three of you step backwards and ooh and awe over the spooky pumpkins, Amelie giggling wildly and running around about them.
sapnap calls for dinner, Amelie racing in and he knocks shoulders with you, “for the record, i think you won.”
and your face flushes pink the entire time you stand in line behind Amelie, a small plastic bowl in your hand as sapnap gently serves you the soup he made, follow him to the table and you eat quietly next to him (“delicious, Sapnap. really.” “I told you.” he teases back with a smirk and a wink)
the oven beeps and you help clean up the table as Amelie gets pajamas on, Sapnap serves a small bowl of pumpkin seeds and you three pad into the front room, where he puts on a charlie brown halloween, Amelie on his lap, half falling asleep.
it’s late, when it’s time to leave, and you’re trying to hand back the shirt (“keep it,” sapnap laughs, “looks better on you, anyways.”) putting the coat he insists you wear, even though your house is literally in eyesight.
his coat is too big on you but he wraps Amelie up in a blanket on his hip, insists he walks you home, his hand keeps knocking into yours, clumsy the whole time.
you bother linger on your porch, until Amelie stirs, whimpers, a nightmare on the horizon as he says goodnight, promises to text you soon.
the entire time walking back all he can hear is the sing songy voice in the back of his head, yelling at him for being an idiot; should’ve kissed them. should’ve kissed them. should’ve kissed them. should’ve-
author's note(s): shoutout to bestie wifey mitty @mitzimania who did the ending when i started losing motivation, but anywho to everyone who put faith into me and wanted this made I love you mwa mwa I appreciate it more than you know
cw warnings: few curse words, simping for abs, (i wanna bite someones abs tbh), others if I miss pls lmk know
***<— click for visuals throughout the story!
"Have you read 50 Shades of I’m Sick of Your Shit? It's about social cues and handling rejection. You should try that some time."
Punz smirked at your snappy words still looking over your shoulder as you worked on your shared project that he was putting no effort into doing.
“Oh, someone’s got an attitude to-” The blonde's words were cut short when you elbowed him in the ribcage, finally receiving the personal space you desired.
“Ah, fuck.” He groaned, clutching his side plopping down on the stool next to yours. You give him a tight lipped smile before reading off the directions and organizing the materials in their respective places.
“Don’t you have football practice? I can do it myself, ya know..”
A grumble left your partner's lips- he was rolling his eyes.
“I’m failing Chem, so I can't attend any practices until I’m passing.”
Unfortunate- for you, not him. You had planned on doing all the work yourself when your Chemistry teacher assigned the two of you to work together, whilst he centered his attention on football. But you had to keep reminding yourself to expect the unexpected. Especially when your partner is one of the most popular boys in school and everyone wants a shot at being with him.
“Well then, I suggest you grab your notebook and take some notes.”
The clock in the library ticked loudly as another hour passed as you attempted to explain the same thing to the boy next to you for the millionth time.
“You know what, how about we just pick this up tomorrow.” You began to pack everything away before Punz had stopped you.
“Can’t. Tomorrow’s saturday.”
An eyebrow raised in his direction as if the day was supposed to mean anything to you.
“Dream and Sapnap are throwing a party tomorrow.” He scratched at the back of his head avoiding your eyes knowing you wouldn’t agree.
“And this stupid party is gonna help your grade how?”
Punz bit at his bottom lip trying to think of a solution. “How about you come over tomorrow afternoon and we can continue working while I get ready?”
Everything in you yelled no, but the part of you that was determined on keeping all of your A’s agreed reluctantly.
“Fine, just text me the address.” Ripping out a corner piece of paper you wrote down your number before handing it to him and placing everything in your backpack before leaving.
Just as you were leaving your phone began to ring, stopping in place you pulled it out looking at the unknown number before answering.
“Hello?”
“Had to make sure you didn’t give me a fake number.” Flipping him off you walked out the library making a bee line to your car ready to just get the day over with already.
-
Punz: 48 durnbill drive , is my address let me know when you get here
Y/n / Tutor / Chem Partner: okay
Punz: That’s it? Just okay?
Y/n / Tutor / Chem Partner: um yeah..? I’m stopping at starbucks, on my way
Punz: I’ll take a cookie and hot chocolate please 😍
Y/n / Tutor / Chem Partner: i didn’t say i was getting you anything
Punz: fine i’ll just take whatever you get
Y/n / Tutor / Chem Partner: fuck you
Punz: you know you love me 😉
-
When you pulled into Punz’s driveway the last thing you were expecting was to find a woman just a few years older than you sitting outside while a toddler wadded in the kiddy pool.
Your mind raced with possibilities of who the mystery woman and child could be- maybe he hooked up with her and that was his baby. Shaking your head and reminding yourself it was none of your business you sent a quick message to Punz letting him know you were outside, you exited your 2015 ford escape. ***
The woman across the yard smiled your way, pulling up her sunglasses and waving at you.
“Hey, you’re Y/n, right?”
Looking at her closely you could tell, she looked exactly like your blonde partner. Nodding you met her halfway to which she extended a hand for you to take. With a smile you noticed the few tattoos she had adorned on her upper half.
“Punz is in the shower right now, but the first door on the right as soon as you go up the stairs is his, make yourself comfortable.”
Thanking her you grabbed your backpack from your backseat as well as the drinks and food items before letting yourself into the home of a boy you hadn’t talked to in years. Around third grade you and Punz got super close when he noticed you had just moved there and had no friends.
Over the course of only a few months the two of you got really close, never hanging out unless it was during school but still being very close nonetheless. And it wasn’t until around summer of fourth grade did Punz just randomly dump you with no explanation. But as rumors began to go around you realized it was because it was “weird” to be best friends with a girl.
From that day on you stopped letting people get close to you worrying they’d use you until it was no longer cool or whenever they decided they were tired of you.
Shaking your head you walked up the stairs noticing all the pictures lined up on the wall. Each one differing from the rest of them. As you reached the top one picture in particular caught your eye.
It was a picture of you and Punz standing next to each other in front of an ice cream parlor after his first football game. He didn’t win but the effort he put in was enough to be rewarded with an ice cream sundae.
Trudging up the rest of the steps you pushed down the nostalgia trying to creep up on you as you let yourself into the first room on the right like his sister had directed. Opening the door was anything but what you were expecting.
His walls were painted black and he had multiple different bands covering the wall directly across from the front door leaving very little space for anything else. He had a few trophies on shelves above his bed, and a bookshelf with books on it to your surprise.
The water in the bathroom had come to a halt just as you sat on the end of the surprisingly neat bed taking out your notebook and a pencil, whilst trying to make sure the cardboard drink holder which was holding your pair of drinks didn’t fall.
Abruptly, a loud creak sounded from the bathroom as the door swung open. Pools of steam poured out dramatically, enveloping a muscular figure. Your Chemistry partner stood in the doorway, hair damp and shirt clutched in his hand.
You tried not to look, you really did- but something in the fog perhaps urged you to keep your eyes on him. It was impossible not to admire his physique- his arms and chest were toned and his hair dripped clear droplets down his back and cheek.
It was like a scene out of a movie. The world was moving a hundred times slower, and you could practically hear the cheesy, slow music pumping out of invisible speakers, you could basically feel the rhythm bursting through your chest. Or maybe that was just your heartbeat, you thought to yourself, just as Punz seemed to see you in his room.
It was awkward silence at first. The coming-of-age music had faded away, now the only sounds were the muffled noises of the TV from downstairs and the sporadic dripping noise of water onto the wooden floor.
“Uh…” The blond began to speak before you cut him off hurriedly.
“Your sister let me in,” you rushed, “and I didn’t think you’d be… y’know… I’m sorry-”
Punz’s cool laugh cut you off. You looked back up at his face and he seemed surprisingly unworried. You tried to scan his face for any hint of discomfort- you didn’t want to have overstepped. But you didn’t find anything but amusement, and something else- something that made his cheeks flush a rosy hue and his smile to creep across his face a little more than usual.
You weren’t an idiot. You could read the signs. Was he blushing? Because of you? A hint of a grin ghosted your own lips and a thunderous noise crept into your chest cavity- your heart thumped quick as a hare.
Unluckily for you, though, Punz wasn’t daft as well. He noticed the sudden reaction from you, he saw the bashful smile that split your face. You thought you were being subtle, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.
Something else that he noticed though, when you smiled, it made him feel like grinning more as well. He felt something soft and something sweet alight in his chest, like a dizzying flame which made his head spin with a sickly sweet scent.
You made him feel this way, he connected. You and your smile, your laugh, your face, your presence, you. Punz never thought that a single person could make him feel such an intense, blatantly bright joy- but here he was, and there you were, and this was it. This was the feeling. The feeling he never knew he needed.
It’s been established that Punz is not an idiot. But let it be known that he’s much more than that- he’s also a sly bastard with an eye for teasing. He had seen how you had reacted to him shirtless- and he liked it. So why stop?
Instead of putting his beige shirt back on, he tossed it back into his closet. Who needs it? The blond flopped onto his bed, acting unbothered. His eyes were focused on anything but you and his hands searched for his phone. You were taken aback, however. How could one be so nonchalant in this situation? You knew you were freaking out- why wasn’t he?
But the second you caught his fidgeting you knew it was an act- his tapping fingers, his bouncing knee- he was just as nervous as you. This information emboldened you, and with a surge of confidence, you sat down beside him on the bed.
He looked up at you with a crooked grin that quite possibly melted your heart into a big red puddle. “So, should we start the project?” His voice was hoarse and it made your stomach do flips.
“I guess we should.”
---
“So,” Punz laughed breathlessly, “do you think we’re done?”
It had been a few hours at this point. The two of you had slaved away to make your poster for Chemistry, decking it out to hit all the criteria and score the extra credit points that would be needed to bump Punz’s grade up just enough for him to get him to a more palatable score for the football coaches to see. Hopefully this would let him play again.
When you had gotten to his house, you had expected things to be awkward. You had imagined stolen glances and irritable smiles and tense silence, the kind only manageable by 2 best friends turned strangers.
It had been a little off at first, sure, but the two of you had quickly breezed into an old, familiar routine. It was like trekking a favorite pathway long after nature had reclaimed the pavement- eventually, your footsteps fell into place just as they had so many years ago.
So when Punz asked that question, you were disappointed. Your heart which had been in your throat the entire time had dropped to the bottom of your chest, smashing your ribs on the way down. The pink aura which had filled the room, along with the haunting echos of the pairs’ laughter died away. You felt like you had been crushed up in a dozen tiny pieces.
You looked at him and for a split second you thought- what if he was feeling this too? But you did not expect him to look back, his face only a few inches from yours.
Punz’ eyes shone with the same look from before- glints of humor and kindness, sparkles of confidence and heart, and the same look from before. It was shining warmth and desperate affection, and longing, so much longing. It made your head hurt and your knees weak and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him at that moment.
And if you were honest, you think that Punz wanted that, too. But he didn’t move and neither did you, and you wished nothing more than for some kind of push, whether it be from the breeze drifting through an open window or someone else’s hands or some kind of spirit forcing you two into each other- but nothing of the sort would happen, you knew.
You leaned away and he followed suit, clearing his throat and continuing talking as if nothing happened. You shot him a bitter look which he didn’t seem to notice, and you let yourself sink back deeper in your thoughts.
They enveloped you like a cold embrace, like humid steam, a warm hug that muffled everything else happening. You were thinking about everything and nothing at the same time- the future, the present, the past. You were so deep into your thoughts that you didn’t realize that Punz was calling your name.
“Y/n? Hello? You in there?” Punz was right in front of you now, off the bed, snapping his fingers in your face. You stared at his black-painted nails for a bit before coming to. “Sorry, just zoned out. Thinking… yeah.”
Scratching the back of your neck awkwardly, you waited for his response. You waited for him to wrap it all up with a ‘was nice working with you’ or maybe a ‘see you in class!’ What you weren’t expecting, though, is what he said next.
“So listen, y’know how I mentioned a party?” He looked oddly anxious. You could sense where this was going and elation lit up your face like a match- you nodded at him to continue and so he did.
“I think that maybe… we should go together? Only if you want to, of course,” he added on hurriedly, not meeting your eyes. He messed with his fingers nervously. You were ecstatic, you were overjoyed, you were every positive emotion a human being could feel- but a hint of suspicion crept into your mind.
“Yeah? Are you sure you’re not gonna ditch me again? Just like you did when we were kids? We were so close then, Punz, what changed?” You didn’t know what emboldened you to speak your mind but you praised the invisible spirit that gave you said courage.
Punz looked down at his floor. He looked so unbelievably guilty and you wanted to wrap him in a hug and tell him it was okay- but you knew it was better to stand your ground.
He responded after a few seconds. “I was embarrassed.” You raised your eyebrow, prompting him to continue.
“Dream and Sapnap made fun of me for being best friends with you and I got embarrassed. I’m sorry, I really am, I was a stupid kid and I wish I could take it back now, I really do. So- will you let me make it up to you? Come to the party with me, Y/n, for old time’s sake?”
The Medicine Isn’t Kicking In (But Life Is Kicking My Teeth Out)
or: the one where you invite sapnap over for dinner
FITPS!verse
TW/ cursing, alcohol, mention of nightmares, insomnia, implied past child abuse (not graphic)
“you look like shit.”
sapnap huffs, rubs a hand over his face, “Yeah, i-“
you don’t give him time to answer, using your thumb to hold his chin up to the light, turning his face over in the lights.
“Seriously Sapnap,” you shake your head, turning his ghoulish white face in the light from side to side, “are you sleeping?”
he sighs, “yeah, i’m sleeping-“
his voice is gentle, a lie, feels bad lying to you-
“seriously, sapnap,” there’s concern laced in your voice, “you look like you haven’t slept in years. tell me the truth, or i’ll ask Amelie.”
he huffs, rolls his eyes on this threat
(as if she doesn’t run into the library every day and pull on your cardigan sleeves, “Sapnap said he only got one hour of sleep last night.” she pauses, her eyebrows laced together, “i’m worried.”)
but your hand goes from oulling at his face at all these different lights and angles to resting against the side of his face.
finally, he leans against your hand, really taking in the feeling, a gentle sigh, “Just havin’ a little trouble sleeping is all, i guess.”
his eyes stay shut against your hand.
your voice drops, because you know sapnap would hate if people heard this part of him:
“sapnap,” you say gently, “is it the nightmares again?”
he huffs, the scared part of him that hides in you when you two sleep together gone,
“i’m fine, darlin’,” he says, takes your hand, “i promise.”
brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the top of it, makes you roll your eyes but red still races to your face.
you know in passing, of the nightmares. the way he tosses and turns in bed, sweating, gripping onto the sheets for dear life, waking up borderline hysterical, his face hidden in you so he doesn’t wake Amelie up, even when he’s worried he’s half dying, that his father lurks behind a doorway, down the hall, ready to pounce-
“you lie,” you say simply, drop your voice, “let me take care of you for once, come over for dinner tonight, my treat.”
he sighs, rubs his eyes, “i can’t, darlin’. i got amelie-“
you hit his shoulder gently, “the both of you, obviously.” you roll your eyes, “you two are a package deal.”
he sighs, runs his hand through his hair, “i dunno-“
mentally he goes through the list of things he has to do: laundry, pack Amelie’s lunch, bath time, homework-fuck, he should probably take a shower too-
but he thinks of spending half the night alone, amelie tangled in her own things to do, and the familiar ache and gnaw of loneliness pulls at his stomach-
“i’ll pull out my secret weapon if i have to.” you tease gently and finally, finally he smiles-
“Yeah?” he snorts, takes a step closer to you, so your bellies practically touch, “and what’s that, darlin’?”
a large, toothy smile out of you, “Amelie.”
it’s simply, all it takes, and he knows it, groans. one mention of her being able to go to your house for dinner and it’s over for him.
“fine,” he sighs, “if you’re sure-“
a nod from you, “positive. five o’ clock, don’t be late.”
and he snorts, leans in, a gentle kiss to your forehead, “five. we’ll be there.”
and he’s walking up the stairs, hand in hand with amelie before you can second guess yourself.
the problem with inviting sapnap over for dinner is mostly that fact that it’s the eighth wonder of the world how you’re alive. cooking isn’t your strong spot, and sapnap will insist on paying if you order food in (or you’ll find it in your running shoes day later)
so with the only plan to get home and try your best, you dip out of work early and race home, and start.
“Doll,” Sapnap sighs, has been pacing by the staircase the last ten minutes, “c’mon darlin, we’re gonna be late.”
some stomping, a vague noise of something being thrown, and her voice sounds like it’s stuck in something, comes back muted and far away, she yells back: “one second!”
being alone with his thoughts is dangerous.
he turns, looks in the old mirror that hangs by the closet by the front door.
fuck he thinks i need a haircut.
he adjusts his shirt sleeves. a long sleeve button down was probably too much. decides to roll the sleeve up to his elbows, hope it doesn’t look too wrinkly, though it was in the back of his closet.
his jeans are the only pair he has that don’t have rips or grease or any sort of black stain on them, a nicer pair (as far as stuff he owns goes), found them shoved in the back of his closet in a corner, told himself he’d never have an occasion to wear them-
“Aimes!” he yells again, driving if he looks at himself any long he’s going to overthink it and just not go-
only to be face to face with amelie.
she carries her stuffed rabbit under her arm, was sapnaps, passed down to her now (“to keep you safe, darlin’.” he said gently when he gave it to her)
“i’m right here, Sapnap,” she giggles, “here.”
and she passes a rubber band to him a small comb, and him, with no care in the world for being in the threshold of the door, drops to his knees and slowly combs her hair. his fingers work slowly, but delicately, a messy braid as he puts the rubber band around it-
“perfect, let’s get your coat.”
he stands, bundles her up, picks her up and she’s on his hip, the stuffed rabbit squished between their bellies-
even though it’s december, and dark early and cold, taking the truck seems like a waste of gas (and he can’t convince himself to spend anymore money on gas. plus, it would take a miracle, three prayers and a sacrifice for the truck to turn on, depending on tis mood)
by the time they get to your door, they’re all but shivering, but you usher them in, take the coats.
your fave is pink when sapnap hands his coat over, seeing him, dressed semi nicely for once, not in clothes that don’t have his shops logo on it, or an old band or hockey shirt, makes you blush for some silly reason-
“you clean up nicely.” you tease gently.
he sighs, pulls on his shrit, “yeah uhm. Amelie insisted-“
it’s a lie, and amelie gasps, “I did-“
but he covers her mouth, “darling, i think i just saw their cat in the kitchen-“
and she gasps and is off.
“kids these days,” sapnap tries to laugh, bud his face is pink, “you uh-“ he shakes his head, “look amazing.”
and now it’s your turn to snort, because he’s lying, has to be. you’re wearing an old apron, old stains no matter how much you wash it, torn and worn with age, jeans and an old reading shirt the library put together two summers ago-
“Charming, as always.” you finally say, and his face is still pink.
“oh uh-here.”
he holds up a small bag, and before you can argue, he rolls his eyes: “i’m a gentleman, god damn it. i can’t come empty handed.”
the bag contains a small bouquet of newspaper paper flowers, the kind you taught Amelie how to make a few days prior, she poured over the kitchen table, teaching sapnap, and a small bottle of wine.
“Sapnap,” you click your tongue, taking the bouquet of flowers and thinking of where to put them, turning the label of wine of
he interrupts you, “none of that, i have some manners.”
it quiet for a second, weighing the flowers and wine in your hand for a second, he claps his hands:
“put me to work. what’s left?”
and realistically, you wanted it to be like those lazy sundays in you dreamt of with him-he sleeps in, no nightmares, wakes up well rested and ready for the day. he spends the day in, and you by his side, amelie runs between you two-
you shake the thought from your head, almost too pathetic-
sapnap stirs the spaghetti sauce.
it was hidden in the bottom of the freezer, but is just as good as new, a recipe passed down and down until it finally got you-
“smells amazing,” sapnap all but gushes, wears a pink kiss the cook apron you all but insisted he wore so he didn’t ruin the nice shirt, “i hope you didn’t go through too much trouble for us.”
amelie giggles, on her belly in the middle of the kitchen, plays with the small kitten that usually darts inbetween your legs,
“Anything for you.” you say, and you mean it, smiling when you see how he blushes and messes with his shirt sleeves.
dinner is served on plates passed down to you, but it’s all the same to them. amelie sits next to sapnap and talks with her hands to the two of you about school, and sapnap engages the entire time, and a smile never leaves your face as you watch him in his element.
sapnap insists you sit while he cleans the dishes, pours a small glass of wine as you sit on the small island. he sings along quietly to the songs on the radio, even if he doesn’t know it, makes up his own lyrics as amelie dodges inbetween his legs, chasing the cat and teasing sapnap-
night falls and you two collapse onto the too small couch in your front room; sapnaps legs all but fall over the edge of it, but he doesn’t seem bothered, curled up between him and the couch, amelie passed out on the floor
his voices comes back low, deep with sleep, and you thought he was long passed out: “thank you, for tonight. i-i needed it.”
the pad of his thumb draws circles over your cheek, the only other indication he’s awake.
“always,” you say gently, looking up at him, “i mean it whenever you need it.”
a lazy laugh out of him, “i’ll remember that darlin’.”
and a few minutes later, the circles stop and a quiet snore from him, and you know you accomplished the small task.
or: sapnap takes his kid sister trick or treating. it’s wholesome.
tw: cursing, you can take southern!sapnap from my cold, dead hands. maybe some angst if you squint? it’s mentioned but not expanded upon (single! big brother sapnap?)
costume idea stolen from @harbingerofheartbreak who is infinitely creative and supportive and i love dearly
maybe part of a series? maybe not! who knows these days.
“I know you’re not right now, but when the sun sets you’re gonna be freezin’ and i don’t wanna hear it, peaches.”
your head pops up.
two figures slowly make their way down your driveway, obviously bickering between the two.
living in a small town, smack at the end of small block, you don’t see a lot of trick or treaters. to make up for it, you try and go out of your way to be know as that house, full size decorations and props, king sized candy bars, a speaker hidden in your front lawn and playing eerie sound effects
halloween snuck up on you this year.
work deadlines, family emergencies-it all piles up. you barely had time to collect candy on your way home, but still, you made it work.
two figures slowly walk up your winding driveway, one figure is taller, hunched over in an attempt to make himself smaller to the little girl who has her entire hand wrapped around his one finger, wears what must be a poorly but together knight costume: the sword tucked into his hip, his plastic and bent to hell, has the elbow guards and tunic on-
and next to him, the smaller figure, walks slowly and drags her feet, her hair in a messy braid (you wonder briefly if the man next to her did it in a hurry, half hanging out) wears a little princess costume, a dress she has to half hold up so she doesn’t trip over it, yellow and long and sparkly, a crooked crown on her head.
you bite the inside of your cheek to stop from smiling too big, because holy shit that’s cute-
suddenly, your costume feels wrong.
put together last second, white face paint on, a kids cape on, those white plastic teeth shoved in your mouth for fangs-suddenly it all feels very dumb.
you stand up a little straighter, opening your mouth to speak, wish them a happy halloween, but the taller figure speaks first.
“what do you say, peaches?” the man asks, gently shaking her hand. she bites her lip, looks at him to you, opens the pillow case in her hands and mumbles to the ground-
“trick or treat.”
He beams from her side, plays with her hair gently, and you swear you can hear him say, gently, like it’s reserved for just the two of them, “Good job, darlin’!”
a smile immediately forms on your face, and you crouch down and offer the bucket as she gasps and slowly goes through the choices.
he speaks first.
“slow night?” he teases.
“yeah uh-“ you play with the edge of the halloween bucket the candy is in, “it’s just me. not a lot of kids this year-or any year, but” you shrug, trying to downplay how disappointed you are.
his eyes are on you, watching you carefully, the girl at his hip pulls on his shirt, making him crouch down, offer his ear to her-
you brie your lip as he listens, his eyes on the sky, but a smirk on the corner of his lips, “yeah i know darlin’. Okay, I will-“
he stands, “Wanna come trick or treating with us?” he shrugs, trying to downplay it.
the smaller figure next to him speaks, “be our bodyguard! you could protect us from any dragons!”
He blushes but rolls his eyes, fond on the corner of his lips as he squeezes her hand, “That’s right, darlin’. keep us safe.”
You bite your lip, worried this is a sympathy ask, that you seem that pathetic- the girl next to him leaves, him yelling over his shoulder to stay close, instead admiring your small garden, and his voice stays low as he talks
“i’m not above beggin’,” he says gently, “I need another adult.”
the smile says it’s a joke, but you’ll take it.
“can’t handle kids?” you tease
“nah, i love my sister. she’s great i’m just fully caught up in the first grade drama and would kill for some actual conversation.”
his sister. it gnaws at you, how sweet that is that he showed up, even if he plays up the role of big brother who hates being with his younger sister-
“generous you think i’d offer anything to a conversation.”
he snorts, “As long as it’s not about playground drama, i’m sure it’s better.” he leans in, offers his hand to shake, “Sapnap, by the way.”
you lean in, offer your hand, an introduction.
“nice to meet ya,” he says gently, “We live down the road-“ he turns around, eyes narrowed as he points at a smaller house, bricks and big trees in front of it.
you know of the house; the elderly neighbor passed, a smaller family moved in, you know through town it’s just him and his sister, trying his best, trying to make non existent ends meet-you always stop on your way home just because you though the lights that hang from the tree in the front yard is pretty- “we’re new here. it’d be nice to have someone, yknow?”
and he’s not looking at you, at the dirt, kicking at it gently,
“Yeah uh-“ you nod, trying to not act like you’re excited. “sure. here-“ and you hand off the bowl of candy as you drag around furniture on your porch, set up the bowl, knowing a “please take one” sign is useless, before setting it on a folding lawn chair.
“Okay,” you smile, face flushed, “uh-i’m ready.”
he smirks, “grab a coat. we’ll wait. you’re gonna die when the sun sets and she takes trick or treating very seriously.” he jams his thumb in the direction of his sister, who is kneeling in the dirt, slowly going through her pillowcase of treats.
“right uh-“
“You’re fine,” he laughs, “we’ll wait.”
another nod and you run up the porch, grateful you didn’t eat shit running up them like you have multiple times, ignoring the mirror in front of the coat closest because you know you look like a mess, grab a coat and appear at his side again.
“good?” he asks and you nod and he’s smiling, cupping his hands together to tell for his sister.
“darlin’” her head pops up immediately, “c’mon, let’s go. we’ve got a long night.” she’s giggling and running to him, immediately to his side where he opens his hand and immediately laces fingers with her.
silence passes for a second, but it’s not awkward, as you listen to him interact with his sister.
“hey,” he takes a step closer to you, gently nudged you with his elbow and opens his hand, offering a twix, “i’m glad you came.” his voice low, like it’s a secret.
some anxiety melts off of you, and you laugh, accepting the treat. “yeah, yeah. me too.”
Having a late night with sapnap, where he breaks down about how much stress he is under with work and Amelie and stuff so you both go to bed super late. Letting sapnap sleep in the next morning cause he doesn't have work or a morning skate and to be honest he doesn't get enough sleep. Him freaking out about trying to get breakfast together for amelie and him coming downstairs to you having made breakfast for both of them, just trying to do small things to help because you care about them both so much omg I'm so soft for this series sorry I'm rambling
all credit to my beloved 🦇 anon thank you for sending this in to me
tw/angst (genuinely, this is all angst), curing, mention of past abuse/toxic family,
FITPS verse, not necessary reading, but more in the same verse here if you're interested
"Sap."
it's the third time he rolls over in bed with a huff, that you realize sleep won't be finding Sapnap tonight.
The light from the shitty convivence store the next block open with the fluorescent OPEN sign that blinks and hums in the dark shines in your eyes, no matter how you reposition yourself
He huffs, doesn't answer, scoots up in bed so his back is against the bedframe.
And you sit up, turn the light on and illuminate the small room, your hand on his chest, voice is borderline pleading: "Sapnap, talk to me."
this happens, ocassionaly.
it's been awhile, since he's been like this, when the anxiety hits and the sleepless nights find him.
But when they do find him, it's usually after a long week, him struggling to juggle Amelie, her school and hockey practice, and him-with his job; business has picked up, and while it's good for paychecks, you can't ignore the dark bags under his eyes and the groaning of his bones when he goes to pick Amelie up, throw her in the air, the missed dinners he's passed by, sleeping on the couch, too tired to even walk up the stairs-
he doesn't answer.
stares straight ahead, runs his hands through his hair, shaking, unsure of himself, his voice cracks, and he doesn't look at you, like this has been on the back of his mind for a while-
"What if all of this was a mistake?"
He laughs, but it's without humor, his eyes dark:
"Like, what if she's actually fucked by me raising her? What if she turns out like me?"
this is heavy, especially for a Thursday night, but you know this song and dance, are an expert in it-
"Sapnap, come on."
"No," He shakes his head, "You come on-"
He's spiraling, and there's only one fix.
You throw the old quilt off your body, wiggle your toes against the cold wood floors as you pad to his side, hold your hand out:
"Sapnap, come on-"
He doesn't say anything back, but allows you to tangle your hand into his, to pull him out of bed, and lead as you slowly lead down the creaking steps, to the couch where you let him fall onto, curl next to him:
"Sapnap," You try, your voice borders on pleading, "What's going on?"
You pull him closer, against his chest, your hands tangled into his hair, pulling at it gently, something he usually likes, finds comforting-
His voice is weak, like he's thought about this all week, tossed and turned, lost sleep over it-
"I don't want her to end up like me," His voice breaks somewhere in the middle, "Like, to be fucked up like me? Didn't even fucking finish school, working at a shop like a fucking loser. Maybe my Dad was right."
He snorts, but there's no humor, his eyes dark.
"Sapnap, come on. You just need some sleep." Your voice borders on pleading.
instead, his voice is dark: "Like, this is the kicker, right?" he snorts, "You grow up and your family is shit, dies early, leaves you alone to raise a kid, right?"
He laughs, shakes his head, "And the whole time, you're terrified you're going to fuck her up. Turn out like her Father, or even worse, like you, right? And you can't do a damn thing about it."
"Sapnap," You plead, "You aren't a fuck up-"
"And it's all going to be my fucking fault," He shakes his head, "I can't blame anyone but myself."
Sometimes, when he gets like this, there's no talking him off the ledge.
instead, it's laying against the couch, pulling him into you, gently ruffling his hair, letting him rant into your pajama shirt, goes from borderline yelling, to sobbing, whole body shaking weeping that leaves wet stains on your shirt that you both ignore, holding him close, praying for it to be over-
by the time he's exhausted, when his eyes are drooping and low, from lack of sleep, and from crying, he leads you by the hand up the creaking stairs, to the old bedroom-
the only saving grace, you can think of, as you lay in the bed, is that tomorrow is his only day off after a full week of working late, showing up to Amelie's practices just in time, peeling his grease stained shirt off in the parking lot, trying to look presentable after a long day, the world beating his ass day after day-
Birds outside the powerlines wake Sapnap up.
Which is unusual, since usually, his alarm has him up at 4am, when birds dare sing yet, still trying to sleep in for five more minutes-
this causes him to panic, naturally.
"Fuck!" he all but screams when he rolls over, the alarm clock says 10:06 in red, as if mocking him.
You aren't in his too small bed, and your spot on the mattress is long cold, which also worries him-
one thing at a time your voice comes through his head, the gentle voice you use on him when he's spiraling, when you hold either side of his face in your palm, making him look at you: one thing at a time, Sap. Just one-
a deep breathe and he nods, hops around on the floor as he gets into his old work jeans, worn with age and from working, covered in a mix of grease and who knows what fuck else-
he's buttoning his work shirt, which he's 90% sure smells and he'll need to Febreze, as he runs down the stairs, to the kitchen, yelling to Amelie:
"Aimes!" He yells, running his hands through his hair, is going to have to skip a shower since his alarm didn't go off, "Darlin', we got ten minutes, baby girl. You gotta get up!"
Breakfast will have to be quick, instant, something that will make the mothers in the pick up line clutch their necklaces and lean their heads in to whisper about that brother, the one who's raising his kid on a steady diet of store brand poptarts, instant oatmeal, and most days-pleading and begging with whatever god exists to stop making him a fucking joke for the love of god-
"Sapnap," Amelie giggles as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. "We're up already, silly."
she's giggling, a smile on her face as she wears one of his old shirts from marching band, far too big on her, down to her knees, is kneeling on an old mismatched stool as she helps you pour flour into a mixing bowl-
"We're-" he pauses, his shirt buttons fucked up, "Late?"
It's a question, not a satement.
"It's Sunday, honey." You smile warmly at him, walk over and fix his shirt for him, "Come on, breakfast will be ready soon."
"Sap," Amelie giggles, "We're making pancakes."
She giggles like it's a secret, when in reality, it's just a rare treat. Panckes are money and time consuming-and he has neither.
"I see, darlin'." He smiles as he sits down next to you, "With chocolate chips?' He tickles her side, kisses the side of her face, fond on his face.
"Here."
His head looks up, and he's immediately handed a warm mug of coffee into his hands.
He inhales it deeply; smells perfect-
"You didn't have to do this." His voice is gentle, small, like he's scared, isn't use to this kind of treatment-
"I know," You shrug, as you grab the bowl of batter, "But it's what you do for people you love."
and you say it so simply, so matter of fact.
the first i love you he's ever gotten, that's ever meant something, isn't matched with the rug being pulled out from under him, without the kiss of a fist-
"Yeah," Amelie parrots, "For people you love."
and you ruffle her hair as she helps you pour the batter, the love is said with the same mocking siblings do, but the smile says she loves having you around, another parental figure, someone to help sapnap-
Your eyes slowly drag up, as you realize what you said, afraid he'll be upset, or not feel the same, will yell or kick you out, scare him off-
instead, he comes into the kitchen, drags his finger through the bowl to taste it, another dip to touch it to the tip of Amelie's nose, before his hands go around your waist, his chin on your shoulder-
"Yeah," he says gently, into your ear, before he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his voice is low and deep, how you know he means it: "I love you too."
sapnap is already on the ice, pads discarded on the floor from practice, when you come in.
he sees you and instantly lights up, skating towards the edge of the link where you linger with a, “Hey, doll.”
“i just,” you huff, feeling insecure in these skates. “I don’t think humans are made to walk on ice, is all.”
he snorts, “didn’t you grow up in the midwest?” he teases gently as he offers his hand and you accept it, taking a shaky step onto the ice.
“Yeah well-“ you’re about to huff something back sarcastically when you wobble, and his voice comes back gently, quiet, not the sapnap you’ve seen on the ice, with something to prove and throwing mitts, known for talking with his hands only-
“careful, darlin’,” he says gently, “I got you. I’m not gonna let anythin’ happen to ya.”
and you believe him. you know he wouldn’t, especially how he’s bent over, to make himself smaller on the ice so he doesn’t tower over you, is looking you in your eyes as you talk-
you wobble the whole time but sapnap praises you like you’re onto something, like you’re actually doing good, even when you’re convinced you’re a walking bruise and less of a human-
“wanna try by yourself?” he asks, after three trips around the ice. his hands are white from you squeezing them so tightly, but he doesn’t complain, doesn’t talk about the loss of feeling in his hands-
your face must give it away, some wide eyed look of terror when he says it that makes him laugh, hold on tightly to your hands as he skates backwards: slowly, gently: “Id rather this way anyways.” he insists, leads you around the familiar rink.
Flowers In The Passenger Seat (Taken Out Of Context)
or part of the big brother!sapnap series
or: the time sapnap forgets about his kid sisters game
tw/ cursing, mention of past abuse, fighting (parents fighting), smoking (sapnap)
thanks, as usual, to flore /harbingerofheartbreak who helped me with a last name (and the title and everything else i need and never complains)
your car slowly putters to the corner Sapnap works at, and you pull your car into park to move the visor down and check your hair one last time.
a deep breath, and you out the car into drive, slowly rounding the corner where the shop Sapnap works at is.
You pull into a random spot, already knowing your way around the small shop and immediately step out of the car and make eye contact with Sapnap.
he’s smoking outside the small shop, a car still in the lift, above everyone’s head.
Sapnap wears the jumpsuit, dark blue and stained black with grease, a white shirt under pops out, the Sapnap sewed on the jumpsuit is stained to hell and barely legible, whistles as you walk closer to him, making you roll your eyes and face blush red as he pulls a dirty rag out of his back pocket, already stained with grease, wipes his hands on it and throws it behind him into the shop.
“Hey, darlin’,” He calls with a smirk as you walk closer, throws the cigarette on the ground and stomps at it with his toes. “long time no see.” he teases, as if you didn’t bring him lunch yesterday, made by you and Amelie, peanut butter and banana sandwiches, his favorite-
“Hey.” you say, and you aren’t able to say more before his hands are on either side of your face, stained yellow from nicotine and grease, pulls your face close and kisses you gently.
his lips stay on yours. “Hey.” he says gently, making you giggle back.
“What’re you doin’ here,” he asks, his hand tangled into yours, “Our dates tomorrow, right? Thursday.”
“Sap,” you sigh, “It’s Tuesday. Our date is tomorrow, Wednesday. I just thought we could grab lunch-“
“No,” he shakes his head, takes his baseball cap off hsi head and runs his grease covered hands over it, “Nah. ‘Cause our date is Thursday cause Wednesday is Ames game. Have it in my calendar and everything.”
Your eyes grow double their size immediately, “Sapnap, you idiot. Her game is Tuesday-“
“Nah,” He’s laughing, but it’s a nervous laugh, “Nah cause her game is Tuesday and i’d never miss one of her games-“
“Sap, it is Tuesday. C’mon, i’ll drive you.”
His eyes are wide as he pops his head into the shop, yells something about using sick time and grabs his coat off the hook, running to the car with you, hand in hand.
“I’m a horrible fucking brother,” he sighs from the passenger seat, his hand tangled into yours as he cranes his neck to see over all the traffic, “Told her i was never gonna miss one of her games.”
“Sap, you can’t beat yourself up over this.” you sigh, knowing it’s worthless to fight over, because he was absolutely going to beat himself up over it.
“Right,” he snorts without humor, “She was so fuckin’ nervous about this game. Told her i’d be front row so she could see me.”
“Sapnap, we’ll be there for the end,” you try, your voice small as you turn into the parking lot of the recreation center, “Maybe she won’t even notice.” you say in a small voice.
another snort, “She worked herself up into a panic attack over this game. said the team was rough and practices more. Promised her i’d take her to the rink for more practice but time got away from me.” he slams his head against the headrest, “Fuck!” it rips out of him as he slams his hand on the armrest.
“C’mon,” your voice is gentle, “let’s go. i’m sure she’ll understand.”
you pull on his hand gently, “c’mon. it’ll all work out, right?”
the amount of times you two have laid together, foreheads pressed together and he’s whispered the same thing to you-
sapnap opens the car door and races to open yours, speed walks in with you hand in hand as the buzzer goes off and the game ends.
it’s not hard to see her on the ice.
the jersey is far too big on her, her brothers from when he played on the same league, Johnson 11 is on the back, cracked and faded with age and time. she’s wobbly on her feet; he’s been practicing with her when he’s able to pull away from work or classes early, him in his old skates holding her hands as the slowly slowly slowly practice skating drills, her feet wobbly and you can hear a “Woah. Woah!” under her breath as she skates.
“Peaches!” Sapnap drops your hand and all but jogs to the little door on the side of the ice, she’s always the first one on the ice, the last to leave, wants to be as good as her big brother-
he crouches in the entrance as she’s huffing, skating wobbly as she slowly undoes all the protective gear, throws it on the ice.
“You said!” she immediately huffs, tears in her eyes, “you promised you’d never miss a game!”
“Darlin’ i’m so sorry. Work-i got the dates messed up-“ he tries, his voice is low, pleading.
“You promised!” she huffs, her finger jabs in his chest and he winces. “Said you’d be front row.”
“I know,” he shakes his head, all the guilt, “i know, i know, i know-“
“You said-“ her tiny fist raised, a blow on his chest, right to a grease stain. “Never miss a game-“
her tiny fists land blow after blow on his chest, again and again-
“Honey-“ he says gently-
“You promised and you lied!” she hiccups, tears fall down her face as she lands another blow, only stopping when Sapnaps hands connect with her tiny fists, engulf them and his voice is low, gentle: “Darlin’, c’mon.”
she collapses into his arms, suddenly the scared four year he remembers coming into his room when the thunderstorms got too loud, or the yelling from downstairs was too much, and he’d pull her into bed, hold her tight against his chest as she shook, promised her she was going to be okay- (“You don’t think your big brother would let anything happen to ya, darlin’”)
he hasn’t seen her like this in a long time.
“c’mon, honey. there we are.” he sighs as she rests against his chest, near hysterics as he stands, swings her onto his hip and bends down, picking up the discarded clothing and equipment, you rush to grab some of it, Sapnap sits on the bench and undoes her skates with skilled fingers, you take them and he stands, swings her onto his hip as she hides her face in the crook of his neck, walks back to the car.
it’s a quiet drive home, only broken up by the sniffling in the back seat and Sapnap sighing, rubbing his forehead and looking in the rear view mirror at his little sister
“Look-“ Sapnap turns in his seat as he parks in the driveway, the car is running but she throws the seatbelt off, runs into the house.
“I’m an asshole.” he declares to you, and you roll your eyes.
“Sap, it’s one game. How many have you been front row to?”
he snorts, but isn’t looking at you, you put your hand under his chin, so he’s looking at you: “Sap, it’s one game. she’s gonna be okay, she’ll forgive you. I promise. she adores you.”
and when he doesn’t answer still, you keep going: “Seriously, she loves you so much it borders on being annoying,” you tease, “The entire time during craft time. it’s all about you, and you working so hard and this and that-“
you roll your eyes, but there’s obvious fond on your face and he’s slowly looking at you, a small smile on his face.
“It’s one game, Sap.” you remind him gently, taking his hand into yours, the pads of his fingertips slowly connect with yours, “She’ll be okay. I promise.”
he sighs, his head against the headrest, but he pops one eye open: “You promise?”
finally, a laugh out of you. “There’s the Sapnap i know,” you tease gently. “Yeah, Sap. I promise.”
“would you even,” he shrugs, “pinky swear?”
a laugh comes out of you. “There’s the sapnap i know.” you roll your eyes, “yes i promise.”
and he holds his pinky out for you to link with, shake in the air before his hand falls and he sighs, makes his way to your door and walks into the house hand in hand with you.
it’s a stand off, for the rest of the night. Sapnap paces by the stairs for awhile, debating on going up, but you insist she needs a minute alone, to calm down, only get him to relax when you put a VHS in and drag him by the hand to the couch, lay down and gently push him onto the couch.
Amelie appears first, drags her feet to the front room where you and Sapnap are tangled into each other on a too small couch, his legs practically falling off the couch. she comes to the side first and sniffles, rubbing her eyes, before she pokes at Sapnap and sways in her spot, face red.
he releases the grip from you and you pad to the kitchen, feeling like they need a minute alone.
sapnap sits on the edge of the couch, sighs before he reaches and tucks her hair behind her ear:
“I’m sorry i missed your game, peaches.” his voice is low, sounds like he’s on the brink of tears, “I can’t promise i won’t miss another one, but i’ll try my best, alright?”
she sniffles slowly nodding, “missed you, is all.” she finally says, her voice is low, like it’s a secret.
“Oh, darlin’,” he sighs, sits up to pull her onto his lap. she’s much too big for it, but he’ll insist on it for as long as he can, “I missed you, honey.” he pulls her into a hug and sighs, is blinking back tears at this point, a messy kiss to the crown of her head.
she pulls away first and he speaks: “listen, i was thinkin’. Maybe we should have pizza for supper-“
he’s cut off with a gasp from her, eyes wide. pizza from a grocery store is a big deal, Sapnap has had many rants about it, how expensive it is, how he could make it for cheaper at home-has had one stored away in the back of the freezer for a special occasion, when it went on sale-
“Really?” she giggles
and he tickles her side, “Yes, really. A few conditions, though-“
and she’s giggling and rolling her eyes, moving his too long hair away from his forehead like he does to her, telling him to go on without saying it, “One: you gotta help me make it.”
so, the pizza isn’t really a two person job, but he missed his shadow, gone from him all day, so he’ll make it one somehow-
she immediately nods, hair hitting the side of her face: “And?” she pushes.
“and,” sapnap continues, sighs, “You have to tell me all about the game. I want every last detail.”
she giggles, “Okay.”
“Okay?” he says, tickles her side until she’s squeaking, “Okay. Okay!”
and he stands, throws her over his shoulder and walks to thr kitchen, where you stay, a drink poured for him already as he sets Amelie on a stool, take the drink from your hand and kisses your forehead, a fond look on his face as he looks at his tiny family he made.
