#Had this one girl try to paint over my freckles because she said I looked like a street rat : | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jflemings · 5 months ago

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— speak your mind

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: upon realising that kate’s feelings for you might not run as deep as yours do for her, you spiral. kate’s there to set the record straight.

warnings: a lil angsty, a lil bit of anxiety, overthinking, insecurity if you squint

a/n: this is long and not fully proofread!! i hope this is okay for my first kate fic 😬 lmk how you feel!!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎰 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

one of your favourite things to do was look at kate, admiring her had become somewhat of a hobby for you. you’re certain that you’ve memorised the placement of every faint freckle on the bridge of her nose; absolutely positive that you could pick out paint swatches that match her eyes perfectly. her side profile is committed to your memory, burned in your brain for the rest of time, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

for so long you had pined after her and hoped that one day you’d finally work up the nerve to actually talk to her instead of spending your time gawking at her.

your hopes were met when the two of you found yourselves sat on the porch of some frat house talking the night away. she’d left her friends for some fresh air only to find you, and before you knew it she was giving you her number and waving you off in an uber at the end of the night.

now, the two of you lounge around on her couch lazily, trying to find something to watch. she’s got one arm around you, keeping you tucked safely under her chin, whist the other fiddles with the remote.

“stupid fucking remote” she mumbles to herself “i change the batteries three times and still, it doesn’t want to work. might as well just get a new one”

you allow yourself the time to trace her features with your eyes like you have so many times before, letting your thoughts run wild whilst she’s distracted.

you knew how you felt about kate. you knew all too well.

you loved her, wholly and deeply. if someone asked you to list off reasons why you loved kate, you’d be sitting for an eternity. there was no one reason for your feelings, and there was no one thing that led you to them, it was just a fact.

the sky is blue. grass is green. you love kate.

simple.

you’d often wonder how she got to you, though. of course, you knew how she physically came to be yours but you often found yourself wondering how emotionally, she could belong to you.

there had been others before you. others that didn’t really need to wait for kate to come around.

she wasn’t known to date or be a player, but she definitely wore her heart on her sleeve a bit. any girl that she dated knew that kate was all in, and it made your stomach churn to know that maybe you weren’t one of those girls.

what if she waited so long to ask you to be her girlfriend because she didn’t know if she wanted that? what if you dove in too quick?

“see anything you wanna watch?” she says before turning to you “or were you just not paying attention to anything other than my face?”

you crack a faint smile and sit up, suddenly feeling sick. kate’s hand falls to your waist “you okay?”

the bitter taste of doubt dances on your tongue and trickles it’s way into your stomach “i’m honestly not feeling too good, i think i’m just gonna go” you say quickly as you stand.

kate’s quick to follow your movement, sitting up and tossing the remote to the side “are you sure? you can lay down here. i’ll get you some water”

“no, no” you say holding up your hand to her as she stands “i’m just gonna go. i’ll call you later”

the blonde doesn’t get another word in before you’re running out of her door with your shoes in your hand. she stands in the middle of her living room puzzled, looking at the back of her door.

it’s been a week since you’d practically jumped up and out of kate’s arms and ran out of her apartment, and she’s barely heard from you.

since you said you weren’t feeling well, she’d offered to go over and just hang out. you declined and said you didn’t want her to get sick and that you’d just catch up with her when you felt better.

then when she tried to call you and you didn’t answer, you told her you’d been sleeping, or studying, or taking a shower, or doing anything that didn’t require you to have your phone on your person.

kate never really thought of herself as controlling, but not knowing how you were was certainly making her feel out of control. she was worried. she had the thought to maybe message your roommate leah, but ultimately decided against it when she realised that that might be overdoing it, especially since you told technically did tell her what was wrong.

there was a feeling deep in her belly that she couldn’t shake though, and it was beginning to eat her alive.

the feeling was only amplified when she crossed paths with leah on campus and still didn’t get an answer. your roommate had nervously shrugged and said that you hadn’t spoken to her before rushing off.

jada squints at her friend from across the room as she takes another slow bite of her bagel. she watches as the blonde seemingly zones out completely, a blank look etched upon her face.

the same blank look that had been plaguing her for the past week.

“what’s up with you?” she calls.

kate snaps out of it with a shake of her head “what?” she asks

“i said” jada starts again, dusting her hands of crumbs “what’s up with you. you’ve been acting strange all week and it’s really unsettling”

kate purses her lips “it’s not unsettling”

“it is when you see it first hand”

the blond rubs a hand over her brow bone and sits up straight, rolling her head on her neck before putting her head in her hands “it’s y/n” she says “we have barely spoken all week”

“i thought you said she was sick?”

“that’s what she told me, but i know something’s wrong. i can feel it in my gut”

kate is quickly beginning to resemble a kicked puppy, the slouch of her shoulders and her sad eyes making her look smaller than she actually is.

jada frowns “what about her roommate leah? have you tried talking to her?”

“we ran into eachother but she wasn’t much help” kate says as she shakes her head.

the brunette takes her bagel and plate and stands, walking over to plop herself down next to her friend and teammate “maybe you should just go over there” she suggests softly

kate slumps back again “do y’think?”

jada shrugs “you obviously know her a lot better than i do but, yeah, i do”

kate ponders for a moment before jumping up from the couch and slipping on her shoes by the front door. she grabs her keys off the hook, makes sure she has her phone, and gives jada a half assed wave before she’s out the door.

she doesn’t even bother walking or taking her time, she runs. the route is burned into her brain. she’s on autopilot as she goes as fast as her legs will take her. she’s run this route plenty of times, more times than she’d ever like to admit.

as late rounds the corner to your building she comes to a stop to catch her breath, ignoring the odd onlooker that was curious as to what she was doing. she waves them off and kept going, never once faltering as she got to your door.

she knocks three times and bounces on her toes impatiently, almost barging in when the door cracks slightly.

leah pokes her head out curiously “kate?” she cocks a brow.

“is y/n here?” kate has to resist the urge to just look straight over her head and into your place “i just need to speak to her”

“no, she’s not” leah says whilst opening the door wider , her expression telling the basketball player that she knows more then she’s letting on “but you’re more than welcome to wait for her if you’d like”

you slam your front door open and kick it shut, flinching slightly at the loud bang “i’ve fucked it!” you practically yell through your apartment “once again, i am my own worst enemy” you begin to ramble to your roommate as you dump all of your stuff on the kitchen table.

leah freezes and her eyes go wide at the sound of your voice ringing through your shared place. you barely acknowledge the way she’s gone stone still like a deer in headlights, too caught up on the fact that you have basically ghosted your girlfriend.

“what if she hates me, what if she never wants to speak to me again because of this week? oh my god” you groan loudly, the anxiety continuing to bubble inside of you “i feel fucking horrible, lee, she doesn’t deserve someone who’s gonna shut her out like this. i wouldn’t even know how to start making it up to her”

you begin to messily organise your things. you dump the water out of your waterbottle and rinse it and put your laptop on charge, your train of thought never faltering “an apology would be a good start, y/n” you mumble to yourself as if you’re stupid “hey kate! sorry for avoiding you for a week, that was super shitty of me, but i’m ready to talk about my feelings now!”

“y/n” leah hisses

you swiftly look at her and frown. her brows are pinched together and her teeth are clenched in an almost comical way, making you cock your brow “what’s that face for?” you ask.

her eyes shift from the direction of your bedroom and back to you once, twice, three times, before she raises her brows. you shake your head slightly to show her you don’t understand until dread washes over you like a tidal wave. a deep pit forms in the bottom of your stomach.

you screw your eyes shut momentarily before walking down the hall to your bedroom, puffing your cheeks up and releasing a breath as your hand grips the handle.

from behind you, leah gets up from the couch “i’m going out for a little while” she says just loud enough so that both you and the person occupying your room can hear. you turn and face her briefly, catching the sympathetic look on her face.

you turn the doorknob and push yourself into the entryway of your bedroom, coming face to face with kate.

she’s sat on your bed with her hands tucked neatly in her lap and her head hung. her shoulders are hunched slightly as she lifts her head to look at you, offering the smallest of smiles “hey” she says quietly “leah let me in, told me i could wait for you”

“oh” you say dumbly, not moving from the spot you stand in.

kate nods her head once “have— have i done something to upset you?” she asks quietly

you shake your head “no” you shut your door behind you “you haven’t done anything, kate, i swear”

“is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me?” she raises her head fully to look at you now but her hands still stay neatly tucked in her lap. she doesn’t look like she’s been crying, but the frown on her face and her glassy eyes tell you that she’s very close to it. you feel your heart crack, you’d never seen her like this.

you sigh and cross the room to her, placing your hands delicately on her shoulders “it was me” you start “i— i was getting in my head and i didn’t know how else to deal with it. i’m so sorry kate. it wasn’t fair of me to do that, especially since i’ve made you feel like you were the one at fault”

the athlete’s hands uncross themselves and come to hold your hips. she looks up at you with wide eyes like she’s trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head “i don’t understand” she says “we tell eachother everything”

“i know” you mumble, flexing your hands against her broad shoulders “i’m sorry”

kate looks down at your feet before spreading her legs slightly and pulling you towards her by your hips. you step further into her space just as she looks back up at you “you can talk to me about anything, you know that right? i’m always here for you”

you nod “i know that” you say quietly. kate squeezes you hip.

“you didn’t fuck anything up” she assures you, referring to your words as you walked through your front door. “more than anything, i was worried. i didn’t know what was going on and you weren’t answering me”

“i’m sorry for worrying you” your hands shift so that they settle in the curve between her neck and shoulder “but i still shouldn’t have just shut you out like that. it wasn’t fair”

her hands slither around your hips and hold your lower back. she tilts her head “do you wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

you take your hands back and chew slightly on your bottom lip before taking a sudden interest in your ceiling. behind your eyes feels heavy as you try to push down the lump that has lodged itself in your throat.

the hands that are around you suddenly feel too cagey, too suffocating, and you take a step back from your girlfriend. a twisted look of confusion and concern crosses the blonde’s features as she furrows her brows and allows her hands to fall back to her lap.

“i love you” you say before taking a deep breath “and i avoided you because i didn’t think i could face you knowing that you might not feel the same” you screw your eyes shut just as the tears slip out.

kate’s face relaxes into something softer, and she slowly holds her hand out for you to take “babe” she says softly “c’mere”

you hesitate for a moment before taking her hand. she pulls you back in to her space and swipes a thumb under your eye “you got yourself all worked up because you didn’t think i’d say it back?”

“i—” you begin, only to then realise that she, in fact, hadn’t said it back. you shut your mouth and play with the hem of your shirt, quickly wiping away tears with the collar.

kate’s hand moves to cradle your face “i do love you” she says softly, ducking her head slightly so she can make eye contact with you “and i have for a while”

your lip begins to wobble and you cover your face with your hands in an effort to hide from her. she isn’t having it though, and hooks a thumb in the belt loop of your jeans so that she can drag you into her.

one arm loops securely around you whilst she uses her other hand to try to pry your own off you face “babe” she says.

she smiles as you reveal your face to her and she takes one of your hands in hers “why did you think that i wouldn’t feel the same? i tried to show it, but maybe it didn’t communicate well”

you chew your lip nervously out of habit “i just thought maybe you didn’t feel the same since it took you so long to ask me to be your girlfriend” you mumble “like, maybe you weren’t sure of me or something”

kate frowns “i waited so long because i didn’t want to mess it up” she says as she squeezes your hand “i knew i liked you from our first conversation, and i didn’t want to scare you off or make you think that i was moving too fast. i’m sorry, baby”

you furrow your brows “it wasn’t your fault” you say as you shake your head “it was just me and my way of thinking”

“we’ll next time that happens i want you to speak your mind, okay?” kate stands and drags her hands delicately up your sides before she cups your face “but there’s nothing you need to worry about. my feelings for you don’t come close to anything else i’ve ever felt before”

“yeah?” you ask quietlyleaning into her touch.

“yeah” kate flashes you one of her big, toothy smiles and connects your lips. her thumbs caress the sides of your face lightly, making your skin tingle. “i love you” she mumbles against your lips.

you can’t help but smile “i love you too”

#jflemings writes #kate martin #kate martin x reader #lv aces #iowa wbb #kate martin fic #wbb x reader #wnba x reader

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pinkiipeachiikeen · 10 months ago

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Galaxy Boy (Yamaguchi x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Yamaguchi overhears Y/n talking about how much she hates her *‘freckles’ so Yamaguchi wants her to give him a makeover- but gets a whole lot more than he bargained for

*reader does not have to have freckles to read, of course

---This is a repost from my previous acc Pinkipeachiikeen (one 'i' after pink, not two like my new one) Keeping up with two accounts was too much so I decided to merge it into my main (was formerly pansexualproblemchild) and keep the name for the most part

Content warnings: VERY anxious/insecure Yams. and VERY BRIEF mentions of self harm? (Yams mentions picking freckles off)

“I look DISEASED!”

“Girl, you look fine.”

“Do you not see them! I’m hideous!

“Y/n, it’s not even that bad! Stop being so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic!” she claims as she slams her locker, causing a metallic ring through the deserted hallway, making both her and the boy peeking around the corner flinch. “Okay, Maybe I was being the slightest bit dramatic.” The girl admits, fidgeting with her fingers as she looks away sheepishly. God she’s so cute. Yamaguchi sighs. And so out of my league. The said object of the boy's affection turns her head around to almost catch his eye, but he dives behind the corner at lightning speed, holding his breath. “What are you looking at?” Her friend asks. “Nothing, I just thought I heard something.”

Yamaguchi can feel his heart almost beating out of his chest. What am I even doing here? He was just walking back from the bathroom and he heard his friend's voice and wanted to say hi, but didn’t wanna interrupt the conversation she was having. So naturally, he ends up hiding because talking to the other sex is scary, even if it’s just Y/N, someone he’s known for ages.

And someone who had a crush on them for almost as long.

Yamaguchi never meant to fall for her, it just kind of happened, like most cases of young love. Y/n is just so- How can Yamaguchi even explain it? She’s just so ethereal to him. Like a fairy, brightening up everyone's world, and pulling them out of their dark, dim shell. She speaks her mind and stands her ground, something that is so foreign to him, that he tends to forget she struggles with her own troubles from time to time as well. Yamaguchi finds himself feeling lucky he got to see her become much more outgoing and comfortable in her skin over the years, but almost gets whiplash from seeing her stumble on her words and hide behind her hair with him, then biting back with playful- but harsh- jabs with Tsukishima.

He remembers the day he met her almost like it was yesterday. Back then he had no idea that she’d change his life forever, he just liked her drawing of her pet dog. She’d always been an artist, and he remembers watching her trying out different mediums every week. She’d show up to school with her bag stuffed to the brim with different pencils, markers and even paints. She had to learn to carry all her supplies in a separate bag after one tube burst open all over the contents of her bag. After that she had bags on bags on bags filled with all the materials she planned to use throughout the day and they only got more complex over the years. Yamaguchi recalls the day she ran into their shared classroom and announced that your new canvas of choice would be skin, as she wanted to experiment with makeup. Soon after the bags of art supplies dwindled down to her makeup case and bag of skincare products she used and tried to convince him and Tsuhishima to invest in, which had little avail. Much like the times where she’d ask him and Tsukishima to pose as models in her pieces, she would ask them to be the models or ‘test subjects' for her makeup looks.

Well not exactly. She never asks Yamaguchi to model.

He has to pretend that doesn’t hurt each time.

Yamaguchi shakes his head, banishing those thoughts away from his mind, once again. He doesn’t need that right now. “I’m serious though!” Her voice draws him back to reality, and back to the conversation. How does she look diseased? He asks himself. He thinks she’s the most gorgeous being alive, but he’s just a bit biased.

“I stay in the sun too long ONCE and get all these freaking blemishes on my face. Once!” She complains, pointing to her face. Wait- is she pointing at- Her friend shakes her head. “It’s not even that bad! Can’t you use a cream or something to get rid of them?” Y/n shakes her head. “I tried everything! At this point i’m considering picking them off.” What?! Her friend sighs. “You really are dumber than I thought. How would you get to practice makeup with big old gashes on your skin? And you know they would probably just come back.” her friend reasons. Y/n flutters her lips as she adjusts her bag. “Yeah, I know. I'm just tired of looking at them And using so much makeup to cover them up all the damn time. I’m almost out of concealer. Again.” Y/n said something else as her and her friend walked back to their classroom, but they were too far out of earshot at that point and Yamaguchi couldn’t seem to care. His heart was plagued with her words.

“Diseased.”

“Hideous.”

Yamaguchi felt sick. The only thing on her face that was even relatively new that she could be talking about was her freckles. Like the ones completely decorating his face. Y/N never had freckles growing up, but she did always complain about having sensitive skin and could’ve easily gotten them from the sun like she mentioned earlier. Her words keep running through his head with no end in sight. She’d rather harm herself than have freckles? Harm herself in stead of looking like me? He’s aware that she was probably being dramatic, but logic has no place in the mind of an anxious teen. If she thinks that way about herself and her few freckles, what does she think of me? Yamaguchi takes a deep breath in and adjusts his clothing that was wrinkled against the lockers. He knows what he has to do.

“What are you even going on about?” Tsukkisima asks, barely looking away from his homework he and Yamaguchi are supposed to be working on. “It’s nothing, i’m just being stupid” Yamaguchi grumbles as he fiddles with the pencil in his hand. “What’s the answer to number six?”

“It’s four.” Tsukishima states blankly.

“‘Kay, thanks.” he replies, filling in the answer on his worksheet before the tip tap of the pencil hitting the desk returns. For every tip tap of the pencil Tsukishima’s patience only grew thinner until he grasps Yamaguchi’s twiddling pencil

. “Stop that shit. What’s up?” Yamaguchi bites his lip and mutters something incomprehensible. “Huh? Speak up.”

“Why doesn’t Y/n ask me to model for her!?” Yamaguchi shouts, bursting out of his seat and slamming his hands down on the table garnering stares from everyone else in the library. Tsukishima’s eyes widen at his friend's outburst as Yamaguchi’s flushed face only gets redder. “Sorry.” he apologizes, settling back down in his chair.

“You really wanna be Y/ns test subject?” Tsukishima side eyes Yamaguchi.

“Well I- uh- I mean.” he bites his lip. “I don’t necessarily not want to…y’know.” Yamaguchi tries to avoid Tsukishima's annoyed gaze. “It would be nice to be thought of?” Yamaguchi states trying to convince Tsukishima that any normal friend would want to be a makeup ‘test subject’, regardless of any romantic feelings involved.

“Dude.”

“Yes?”

“You’re freaking whipped. It’s pathetic.”

“ This shit has been going on for way too long. I’m starting to believe it’s a fucking kink or something since no one would actively draw this awkward pining shit out.” Yamaguchi rolls his eyes. It’s not like he would understand. He likes to bat off any and all feelings with a 5 foot pole. “I didn’t consent to observe this over the past.. .” He numbers off his fingers. “How long has it been? Four years?” Yamaguchi mutters something into the table. “Were you talking to the table or?” Tsukishima questions.

“I said,'' Yamaguchi picks his head up so his chin rests on his folded arms “five years.” A moment of silence passes. “Five fucking years? Do you not realize that means you spent a whole third of your life simping over this girl. A third! Can you imagine what you could’ve done with all that emotional turmoil instead?”

“Do you not think I ask myself that question everyday?” Yamaguchi snaps, as Tsukishima's eyes widen. Yamaguchi exhales. Calm down, Tadashi. He’s just trying to help. Yamguchi rubs his eyes trying to cast away the exhaustion creepy in. Whether it be physical or emotional, he couldn’t tell. “Look, i’m trying to work on it, ok?”

“Work on what?”

Yamaguchi swears he jumped at least a foot in his seat and his heart stopped beating, every ounce of fatigue is zapped out of him with Y/n’s subtle and friendly shoulder touch. Yamaguchi didn’t necessarily hate her touch, not in the slightest, even though her hand recoiled after his full body reaction to it, assuming he did. He loves the subtle touches she gives to her friends, even if they make him panic internally- whether he and Tsukishima were talking about her before then or not.

“I’m sorry!” She apologized. “ I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“It’s fine!” He breathed, clutching his chest and heaving. “I’m fine!”

He was not fine but he quickly gathered his senses anyway to come up with a cover story because ‘Oh we were talking about my everlasting and undeniable love and attraction for you and how it’s crippling me inside! Nothing important! Just boy things.’ isn’t something Yamaguchi just felt fine confessing; that was the root of the problem after all.

“Tsukki here,” Yamaguchi starts, pointing a friendly thumb to the visibly annoyed Tsukishima “won’t stop teasing me about my homework, and I was telling him to buzz off about it.” he gives a little chuckle and wonders if he’s visibly sweating. Y/n furrows her eyebrows, finding it hard to believe that he told anyone to buzz off at all, and even more hard to believe that he said that to Tsukishima, the salt king himself. She recalled a time where he offered to tutor her in the same subject he’s now struggling in when she fell behind after a few sick days, but she doesn’t press the matter and moves on with an awkward ‘Okaaaay?'' She turns to Tsukishima. “So Tsukishima!”- “No, I'm not gonna be your test subject. You could never pay me enough.” Tsukishima interrupts. “Damn.” she sighs. “Worth a shot!” Then Tsukishima does something so traitorous it may startle the very foundation of their extensive, and once unbreakable friendship.

“Ask Yamaguchi, he’d love to be your dress-up dolly for the night.”

Yamaguchi pales Tsukishima Kei what the hell are you doing?!?! He casts the traitor a wide eyed look and attemps to kick him in the shin, but misses and kicks the table leg. Y/n takes note of poor Yamaguchi’s immense panic (and now, pain) and quickly retorts in what she believes to be his defense. “Tsuki, don’t sign him up for things like that, it’s mean!”

Wait.

Does she not think I'm good enough?

Is it because of my freckles?

Say something, you freak!

So in a moment of immense self-pressure, he states, albeit a bit too loud (once again),

“I- I can do it!”

All three of their eyes widen in disbelief. Tsukishimas in astonishment and a bit of pride for Yamaguchi finally doing something, anything to advance his relationship and end the horrid pining, Yamaguchi in fear and surprise of his own actions and the repercussions of them and Y/n in something Yamaguchi can’t yet decipher.

“Not because I wouldn’t want you to!” she corrects after seeing him deflate in his seat. “I- I just don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to! Thats- uh- that’s why I haven’t asked you before because you are always so nice and helpful! And I- I didn’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you didn’t want to for my sake!” she clarifies with her hand fiddling with the bottom of her uniform.

“Then why do you ask me all the time?” Tsukishima chimes in. Y/n’s head and personality does a 180 as she whips her head to face him.

“Beacause, you are an asshole and it’s fun to annoy you, duh.” She states like it’s obvious before she turns back to Yamaguchi. “I would love to have you as my model, if you would have me of course.” Yamaguchi gulps and nods his head, trying to ignore what other meanings ‘if you would have me’ could have out of context. Damn, Tsukki was right. I am whipped. “Yay!” she says with a little hand clap. “I’m so excited! Text me when you can come over! I’m free most days!” Wait. Shit. Shit, shit shit! Yamaguchi, in all his newfound confidence (and pressure from his best friend) forgot that he most likely would be modeling at a house. Probably hers and most likely alone. What the hell did I get myself into?

Yamaguchi never thought a door would be so intimidating. Just knock! He tells himself. It’s not hard! He gulps. Welp. Here goes everything, I guess. He slowly raises his shaking fist to the door, just for it to swing open and make Yamaguchi jump in the air like a scared cat from a cartoon. “Hey Yams! Come on in!” She ushers, not noticing, or caring about his skittish reaction as she grabs his hand and takes him to her room.

Before he has time to really panic that ‘y/n is holding my hand, oh my freaking god! What if it’s gross? What if im sweaty? Whatifwhatifwhatif-’ He’s already in her room- which bring in a whole new set of worries. Holy shit I'm in a girls room. Holt shit. I’m in Y/N’s room. I”M IN Y/N’s ROOM. It’s not like he hasn’t been in her room before. As kids, the trio of Tsukishima, Y/n and Yamaguchi, would fight over the correct names of dinosaurs and who got to be the pterodactyl when playing with Tsukishima’s toy dinos between these four walls. The four walls, which now were painted and decorated with anime posters and pictures of her favorite idols along with some of her most treasured art works you made over the years instead of the many, many, many scribbles from half baked drawings in crayon and marker that she hid from her parents with the pictures she drew in class. He remembers you bursting into class one day a few years ago, excited to tell them that even though her parents knew of the childish scribbles you made on the wall in bouts of ‘artistic genius’ they offered to help you redecorate and paint over it .

It makes him realize how long it has been since you really spent time together.

Has it really been that long?

How far has he really drifted from you?

“Earth to Yamaguchi?” Yamaguchi snaps his head to Y/n’s voice. Shit. How long has she been talking? “There you are!” she giggles.

“Oh, i’m sorry!” he apologizes as he rubs the back of his neck. “ I just got distracted by…yknow,” he gestures to the ‘new’ redecortaed room. “All of this. It’s kind of hard to recognize without the big lion drawing on that wall.” he points.

“It was a superhero!” she corrects as he chuckles. “I can’t tell you which one it was supposed to be though.” she admits meekly. “Now come on!’ she encourages as she plops down on her rug. “Sit right here.” she points to the spot right in front of her

. “O-Okay.” he gulps and obeys, trying not to relish in the fact that he’s barely a foot away from his crush, in a house that’s empty but the two of them.

“So, I was wondering if you had any restrictions before we start?” Y/n aks as she begins to lay out her products.

“Restrictions?”

“Y’know, things you really don’t feel comfortable with. Like I won’t give you clown makeup or anything!” she promises. “But I do have a more extravagant out-of-this-world idea when it comes to you.” Out of this world? Yamguchi questions. “Oh! And I want it to be a surprise! Not because of anything bad I just really wanna see you reaction to your final look! I understand if you aren’t comfortable with that of course!” her voice starts to speed up, much like his when he feels like his is rambling on and on. “I am really grateful for you being here and letting me do this and i certainly don’t-

” “Hey.” Yamaguchi places his hand on hers, out of pure instinct, but draws it back after both pairs of eyes drifted down to them. “I- I really don’t mind either way! To be honest!” Yamaguchi reveals with a large, friendly grin as Y/n’s shoulders relax and a soft smile reaches her face.

“Okay, got it!” She says cheerfully as she pulls out a few more products from her makeup bag. “And Yamaguchi?” She turns to face him.

“Hmm?”

Her eyes meet his as she softly speaks.

“Thank you for being here. It really means a lot to me.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I..really miss you, y’know?”

Yamaguchi swears he’s never seen something as ethereal as she is right now, her figure doused by the sunset peeking through the window on her left, a sheepish, shy smile complimenting her relaxed and welcoming body.

His lips move on their own as he opens them to say “Y/n, i-”

“Oh this is just your shade!” she announces. “Don’t you think?” she asks as she puts a dollop of what Yamaguchi believes to be foundation on his wrist and rubs it in. “It fits perfectly!” She exclaims. oh. “Yeah, it does.” He agrees, with a pitch of sadness in his voice that he hopes isn’t recognizable.

As Y/n starts working on his face Yamaguchi can’t help but to slip into those deprecating thoughts that follow him around like a shadow and take him by force into the darkness. Especially in times like this.

She doesn’t like you like that! It’s very obvious, even an idiot like you should be able to see that!

She doesn’t even want you here! She’s just being polite!

She thinks you are HIDEOUS, remember? DISEASED!

Yamaguchi does what he can to combat the demons in his head and the subtle stinging in his eyes.

“And just a few drops of concealer!” she states as she blends the creamy liquid under his eyes. “But-” Yamaguchi starts. Y/n lets out a slight “hmm?” as she looks through her makeup for a specific item. “I-I don’t think that would be enough.” He stammers as her eyes meet his figure once again. “To y’know,” he gulps. “cover all of this” he motions to his cheeks. “What do you mean?” she asks. He bites his lip as a woeful look crept over her face.

“Yamaguchi..” she utters in a sorrowful tone, like she’s comforting a child. He can’t stand to look at her when she uses this voice, he already feels on the verge of tears

“W-what? Why?”

She shakes her head. “Your freckles are a part of you Yamaguchi. You’ve had them all your life and they are what makes you you. I’m not gonna hide them. I thought you told me you stopped worrying about your freckles in middle school.”

I did, for the most part. But it’s different when the love of your life basically calls you ugly.

He opens his mouth to say something, but bites his lip in shame. She starts to put her makeup into her bag. “You can ask someone else, but I can’t do that. I just can’t.” Yamaguchi is being pulled every which way by his emotions .Confusion, anger, hurt, guilt. So much so he blurts out half baked words;

“Do you think I'm hideous and disgusting?”

Y/n whips her head around from the makeup she was placing away. “What?! No! Of course not! Where did you get that id-”

“I heard you!” he says, once again far too loud. “I-in the hallway near the lockers.” he says in a much more calm and rational manner. “I wasn’t- I really wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I just wanted to say hi!” he looks away, at the floor, at the ceiling- at the abundance of plushies on her bed, anywhere but the disappointed face he expects to see “But you were talking to your friend about your freckles and how you try so hard to cover them and get rid of them and how they are disgusting, and shitty!” He’s facing her now but he can only focus on how much it hurts.The words piling and piling out, red hot from years and years of painful silence- stabbing him, branding him with the fear and self hatred he already harbored since he was young. “And you- you only have a handful of them while- while i have a freaking constellation on my face! And I-” he wipes his face, now aware of the outgoing tears. “I can’t get rid of them! No matter how many times I try to hide them, no matter how many times I try to pick them off they- they always return! And I can’t change that! No matter how many times I try! And I do try, so so fucking hard So if you- the most beautiful person thinks that they are ugly in any way shape or form, then what does that make me?!” The tears are blurring his vision now, blinding him from the horrified look on Y/n’s face, eyes wide with her own tears starting to simmer- but Yamaguchi can’t find himself to care. “I- just want to be-” he chokes as he gasps for air. “I just want to be enough for you!” he wails. “That’s all I ever wanted to be! And- and you are just so perfect in every way! How can i?” he sniffles and hiccups, calming down where he can only see her tear stricken face.

“How can I ever be enough for you?”

And suddenly, it was never about his freckles.

No, it was about a boy, a boy locked away in the tower of his own head, beaten black and blue by his demons wanting love- wanting to just be enough for someone. For anyone.

For her

For himself.

And he just opened the floodgates

What have I done?

Yamaguchi barely recognizes her touch embracing him at first, as reality settles in fast and hard, grounding him and shattering him. Shattering all the resolve he’s built up for years and years leaving him defenseless in her arms. What have I done? Oh my god.

What have I done?

“I’m so- so sorry!” She cries into his arms, but he sits still paralyzed by fear, regret and everything he doesn’t know. About her. About him. About the two of them. What have I done? “Tadashi!” she calls “Tadashi, please.” He shakes his head, trying to self medicate and take himself out of his trance. “I’m so sorry.” he whispers into the air, avoiding her eyes. She shakes her head. “Tadashi please.” she sobs. “Look at me.” she begs as he lifts his head a little bit. She holds his chin lightly and looks into his eyes. “Tadashi please, listen to me.” His eyes finally meet hers and she can see him coming through. “Tadashi, you have always been enough. Always have been and always will be.” she sniffles. “God, I'm so fucking in love with you.”

What?

“I- I know, I know it’s crazy but I loved you since the day we met, Tadashi. I remember feeling so alone- and i was so freaking awkward- sitting under that tree, drawing. I was watching all the other kids play and I felt so alone, but then like a ray of sunshine, you walked over and told me you liked the picture I was drawing of my dog. I just was so enamored of the little boy with big eyes and the cutest freckles. I might not have known it then, but I've known for a little while that I'm head over heels for you. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” she reveals as she wipes her eyes on her shirt. Her eyes locked on his, he could barely register anything she said past “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“With me?”

“I’m just so happy. I loved you for so long, Y/n.” he reveals as he wipes his eyes.

Y/n gulps. “Shit.” she utters.

“What?” he says alarmed.

“This means Tsukishima’s right. We are two pining idiots.” she reveals as Yamaguchi throws back a laugh.

“He gave you the talk too?”

She groans. “Only like every other day! I’m surprised he never spilled to either of us. No wonder why he was always so annoyed.” she giggled. Y/n clears her throat, sits straight and pushes up her imaginary glasses. “I’ve watched you simp for way too long, any longer i’m going to demand compensation. 500 yen every time I see you staring at him, 1000 for every dreamy sigh and fluttering of the eyelashes and 1500 for every time you complain about ‘how it’s illegal to be that cute.” she mimic in her best Tsukishima voice

Yamaguchi cackles “No, no no,” he corrects between breaths of laughter. “It’s like..” he clears his throat as he preforms a slightly better Tsukishima impersonation. “All this endless pining has to be a kink or some shit- and I didn’t fucking consent.” Y/n clutches her sides in laughter as Yamaguchi makes sure he processes every second of this moment, one he’s deemed to replay time and time again. Just the two of them acting like fools again, just like they did before- but now without the fear of rejection and being vulnerable. Yamaguchi could never dream of something more beautiful.

She waves her hand in his face as he snaps back to reality.

“Huh?” he questions as she laughs.

“Yamaguchi, I swear you have the attention span of a goldfish.” she teases as she nudges him.

“Yamaguchi?” he repeats slowly as she cocks her head.

. “Yes? That’s your name?” she states as he shakes his head.

“That’s not what you called me earlier.” Her face tints red as a goofy grin takes over her face. “Okay, Tah-da-shi!” she gives his nose a little boop per syllable as the same red tint and goofy grin transfers to him.

“What I was trying to ask before you went all space cadet on me was if Tsukishima actually said that.” she asks. “Hmm,” he hums as he taps his pointer finger on his chin.

“Depends if the part about you staring at me and sighing dreamily was true.” he questions with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, suddenly confident. Her jaw drops as she stammers.

“Who- who allowed you to smirk like that?”

“Who allowed you to be all cute and flustered?”

“Y-you think i’m pretty?” he whispers as she hums in agreement.

“Well you- you can count them now if- if you’d like.” he offers, hoping to all gods his voice didn’t crack like he thought it just did. “I’d love to.” she mumps and closes the distance and places a kiss on his cheek, and on one of his freckles.

“One.”

Another freckle

“Two.”

Another freckle

“Three.”

Another freckle

“Four-”

Yamaguchi couldn’t take it anymore and leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Time felt like it slowed for him as he savored every moment of her sweet, soft lips on his. It was short and sweet, but left them breathless all the same and left them smiling into each other as they caught their breath.

“Hey Tadashi?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you mean earlier? About the hallway?”

Shit. He forgot about that.

“Uh…” he bites his lip. “It doesn’t really matter, how about we just keep kissing, yeah?” he diverts as she stops him, placing her hand on his chest with a giggle.

“Ah-ah-ah. None of that.”

he pouts. “So.. what you are saying is you don’t wanna kiss me?” he retorts, biting his lip, holding in a giggle of his own

. “I definitely did not say that, Yamaguchi.”

“Tadashi.” he corrects

“Tadashi.” she repeats, playfully rolling her eyes. “I’m serious. I wanna clear it all up right now so there's no more misunderstandings with us, okay?”

“I'm not-” she starts, and attempts to act composed, but with little avail as laughter seeps through the cracks and she begins to howl in laughter as Yamaguchi crosses his arms. “I’m sorry- I really am!” she says between gasps of laughter. “But- but you think- you think these are freckles?” she questions, pointing to what Yamaguchi believes is a freckle on her face. He nods dumbly. “Yeah…what else would they be?”

“Acne!” she exclaims. “Blackheads, to be exact! Dirt, grease, grime and sweat that crept into my pores and clogged them!”

“What.”

Y/n throws her head back in laughter. “So you were so worried over nothing! This,” she takes a deep breath in to regain composure. “This is why we don’t eavesdrop.”

“I wasn’t trying to! I- I just wanted to say hi! I-It’s really not my fault you talk so loud!’ He pouts as he crosses his arms and looks away.

“Tadashi, you are so cute. Worrying over what lil ole’ me thinks.” she pinches his cheeks. “I’m not-” he nudges her grabby hand off of him with his shoulder and sits up straight, trying to maintain the smidge of dignity he has left.

“I’m not cute, first of all. Second, your ‘lil ole opinions’ mean a lot to me, if you didn’t get that earlier.” he reveals, blushing. “I wasn’t lying when I said that my freckles stopped bothering me in middle school. It's not easy to just forget and get over something I struggled with all my life.” he references to earlier. Hearing you say- or at least thinking I heard you say how much you hate them really hurt me, as much as I hate to admit. I know it’s pathetic-”

“It’s not.” she interrupts.

“It’s really not. We all have our insecurities, we all have our demons, we all have our limits. One thing that those things all have in common is the tendency people have to ignore them or pretend they don't exist.” She explains. “It’s so much easier to do then accept them, because when you finally do,” she looks into his eyes. “You learn to overcome them. It may take ages, and you may never fully get over them. But it’s a sure lot more than what most people are able to do. And you,” she pokes his chest. “Are so much stronger than you believe. Admitting your insecurities, looking them in the eye and accepting that although they may bother you some now, they don’t have half as much of a hold on you than before. It’s amazing, Tadashi. You are amazing.”

In that moment he knew that he may never feel enough for anyone or anything 24/7 and may feel the ups and downs that life will inevitably bring- but he has her and she’ll be around to remind him that he is, and that is all he needs.

“Now that that’s settled, time to finish your look!” she cheers as she claps her hands.

“Wait, what?” he questions. “I thought you didn’t wanna do my makeup anymore after I told you I wanted my freckles covered?” she shakes her head. “Nope.” she says, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “I think it’s more important to do it now than ever!” she exclaims with a smile engulfing her face. How was Yamaguchi supposed to say no to that?

“O-okay!”

Thump

Tsukishima couldn’t sleep. If you’d ask him why, he’d probably say it’s because a headache (even though the he’s bouncing a volleyball against his wall causing loud thumps guaranteed to make any headache immensely worse.) and under no circumstance him worrying for his best friend who, earlier acted like he had a date with death, instead of a date with his crush.

‘it’s not a date! Just two people hanging out and doing makeup! Just friendly activities!” Yaaguchi whined as he closed his locker. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t give a fuck. But if you two don't walk into class together holding hands i’m having Shrimpy serve a spike on your fat, dumb head.” he promises and walks away as he hears Yamaguchi complain about not having a fat head and Hinata (who came out of nowhere- as per usual) get all mad about being called Shrimpy even though he was never directly mentioned.

Hmm. Maybe Tsukishima does have a headache. A Yamaguchi sized one.

THWACK

The volleyball he was tossing bounced back past his hands- and onto his face. God damn it. He tosses the ball off of his bed and grabs his phone, in need of a mindless distraction that won’t bruise his face and break his glasses.

Oh? A mention from Yamaguchi? Isn’t he supposed to be with Y/n right now?

He clicks on it and it's the absolute last thing he’d ever expect to see.

A picture of Yamaguchi, shyly looing into the camera with the most bashful smile he’s ever seen on the boy, and a mirage of of pinks, blues and purples decorating his face, with spreckels of silver littering his face with lines connecting them, almost mirroring his freckles-no;

They were stars.

A galaxy

A Constellation.

But the most surprising feat in the photo was Y/n with he arms around his neck, looking into his eyes with nothing but clear admiration and content, with sloppy dots- freckles- across her face that she most likely had Yamaguchi do for her with makeup, ones that almost matched his everyday look. Below the picture was a caption reading;

My Galaxy Boy

With sparkles following and preceding the words. He scoffs and shakes his head playfully. That's so y/n. The he scrolls down to see where Yamaguchi tagged him;

@Tskeishima Is my fat head safe?

He smirks as he types;

@sweetyamagashi For now.

Took yall long enough.

#haikyuu #yamaguchi x reader #haikyuu yamaguchi #maevesoriginals

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practically-an-x-man · 1 year ago

Text

This has been sitting in my Google Docs practically since Stranger Things s4 came out, and I've done nothing with it since then (haven't had time with my other WIPs), so here you go! It only about half of the first chapter, but it went down well on the page.

Anyway, I'll write the full thing eventually and I'm sure I'll make some changes to it, but I felt like posting this first bit since I felt pretty good about it.

Pairing: future Eddie Munson (and maybe Steve Harrington?) x OC

Words: 2.5k, unfinished first chapter

____

Tutoring.

As if it wasn't embarrassing enough to be held back for two extra years, now the school had decided to take matters into their own hands.

In a word: humiliating. And that wasn't a term he used lightly. Eddie typically renounced shame as an overrated and generally useless emotion, but this was taking it a step too far.

Every Tuesday and Thursday after school, sitting in the library as some geeky kid with perfect grades and no will to live tried to accomplish what dozens of professional teachers had failed to do. They all did it the same way: long-winded lectures, going page-by-page through the books, then most of them eventually just giving up and sliding Eddie the class notes. And they all wore that small stupid half-smile… smirk… thing. That blend of trying-to-be-friendly mixed with oh-you-poor-thing and a little bit of thank-God-I'm-not-like-him. And a little bit of fear. Always a little fear of Eddie the Freak.

He was no stranger to this. It wasn't the first time the school had tried this. This was… Tutor Number Five? Six? The first one this year. And all the other ones were off to college to become doctors and lawyers and other professional-people, and Eddie was left in the dust.

His best record: three months. Three months of the library-lectures, dutifully plodding on in search of that just-passing D+, and then his tutor - a tall ginger girl with more freckles than she had hairs on her head - just stopped showing up. Oh well.

His worst? Nine-point-five days. Some squirrely-looking kid with glasses and a reddish-purple scar across his cheek. Eddie didn't even remember his name, he was gone that quick. He figured he must have spooked the kid somehow, because he ran off in the middle of the session. Hence the point-five.

Really, it wasn't that bad at first. Annoying, sure, but it was clear they all just saw him as any other kid in need of tutoring. The indifference was relieving, if a little dry.

Three years in, though, he'd built a reputation for himself. He didn't mind having a reputation… when he was on his own turf. Or even neutral ground, the lunchroom or the courtyard. But the library was their turf. Geekville. Population… not Eddie. Which just made him feel like he was swimming with the sharks.

This particular shark was small. A lemon shark, maybe. A dogfish at best, ready to gnaw at his ankles. She was even smaller than Dustin, though it was hard to tell with most of her figure hidden behind the table and the stack of books on top of it. Her hair was somewhere between dark blonde and light brown, tied back out of her face in a braid. She was lacking the expected glasses-and-braces, though he could see the Badge of Geekville painted all over her Purdue University sweater. Early Decision, he guessed. Maybe even graduating early. She'd be out of his hair soon, then.

"Ashley Kinzler," his counselor had said, "I think you'll like her. The two of you share a few common interests."

Yeah, right. he thought back.

Ashley Kinzler looked up as he approached, and flashed him a smile that was, of course, all straight white teeth. Maybe he wasn't so wrong about the braces, then. She must have had them at some point. Her top lip seemed to disappear when she smiled. Her bottom lip wasn't swayed quite so easily.

It wasn't the usual sort of smile he got. At the very least, he didn't see any pity-the-lost-cause or fear-the-Freak in there. That was a start.

"Ashley, right?" he guessed as he climbed into the chair across from her.

"Edward." she deadpanned in response, that smile falling, and Eddie blinked. She had gray eyes. Stony gray eyes, not a hint of laughter, and she said his name (full name, no less) with the same tone as the principal whenever he caught Eddie skipping class.

Jesus H. Christ. This was going to be some fresh Hell if this was how she was going to-

Ashley Kinzler broke out in laughter so suddenly it made Eddie's head spin. He blinked again.

"I'm kidding!" she laughed, sticking out a hand, "Only my dad calls me Ashley. It's just Ash."

Just Ash. The girl who, within five seconds of meeting him, pulled the rug out from under him (and usually that was Eddie's job). Whose gray eyes, eyes the same color as… well, ash, were now gleaming with humor. Eddie relaxed. He liked this one. For now, at least.

"Got it." he said, baring her a toothy grin of his own and shaking her offered hand, "Nice to meet you, Just Ash. I'm Just Eddie."

She laughed again, apparently ignoring the way it made a few disdainful heads turn in their direction. Maybe she wasn't quite as meek as her teeny-tiny dogfish body would imply.

His counselor's voice echoed in his head again.

"She's got a four-point-oh GPA and has taken half the AP classes at Hawkins. If anyone can help you, it's her."

"So, um," Ash stammered, tapping her nails on the desk a little nervously. She had on black nail polish. All black, all ten fingers. Eddie found that a little interesting. He would have expected… purple, maybe. Or blue, like a soft blue? Not black. That seemed a little too intense compared with the rest of her.

"Should we get started?" she asked finally, drawing his eyes back up to her face.

"Sure."

Sooner we get started, sooner we get this over with. Sooner I can go work on setting up tomorrow's Hellfire session.

"Alright," Ash said, "Three strikes."

Eddie's brow crinkled, but he recovered quickly.

"It's gonna take a lot more than three strikes to get me through pre-calc." he replied with a grin, "Can I interest you instead in a game of bowling? Y'know, where strikes are a good thing?"

"No, no, that's-" Ash cut herself off with a breathy chuckle, "That's not what I mean. It's a game- well, sorta. It's how I start all my tutoring sessions. But we don't have to do it, if you don't want to."

"I like games." Eddie said, leaning forward across the table, "Hit me."

"Okay… here's how it works. We take turns. You say something you think is true about me, I say something I think is true about you. Every time you get something wrong, you get a strike. First to three strikes loses."

Ash gave him a challenging grin, "But I always win."

"Oh yeah?"

She shrugged, eyes still gleaming. "People make more assumptions about me than you think."

"Straight A's." he said, tilting his chin at her. Ash gave a singular nod.

"Metalhead." she returned, an equally easy assumption.

"You're in band." he guessed. Another nod.

"Percussion." she answered, "And… you play guitar." She gestured at his hands, and Eddie realized he had been picking at the calluses on his fingertips.

"I'm making this too easy, aren't I?" he said, dropping his hands into his lap with a grin. Then he tilted his chin towards her, "You're going to Purdue."

"Strike one." Ash responded, a conspiratorial smile twitching at her lips. She tugged at the sleeves of her sweater, "This was my mother's."

Her gray eyes flicked over his figure, lips pursed as she hunted for some sort of clue.

"That lunchbox," she said, gesturing to the black tin box by his elbow, "That lunchbox doesn't contain food, let's put it that way."

"How'd you-"

"I pay attention." she responded vaguely, "But don't worry." She pinched her fingers and drew them across her mouth, "My lips are sealed."

Eddie pressed his lips together, but nodded.

"You're going to work in crime. A lawyer or a detective or something." He didn't have much evidence for that one (well, except for everything about this conversation), but he had a hunch.

And sure enough, Ash nodded.

"The last book you read was for school." she guessed.

"Nope." Eddie replied, popping the "p" for dramatic effect, "Strike one."

The second Monster Manual was sitting in his backpack as they spoke. Not exactly fine literature, but it definitely wasn't for school.

"You're probably into Cyndi Lauper or Fleetwood Mac." he countered.

"Strike two." Ash replied, then shrugged, "They're not bad, but not really my kind of thing."

"What is your kind of thing?"

"That's not the game." she pointed out, flashing him a cheeky grin. "Did your dad teach you guitar?"

"No. My uncle." he responded, careful to keep his tone from sounding guarded. She meant it as a harmless question. So he just tilted his head and smirked at her. "Strike two for you."

"You are a tough nut to crack, Eddie Munson."

"And you… have never done anything stronger than Tylenol."

Ash frowned at that one, as if it were a hard question to answer. After a long moment, she nodded.

"I'll give you that one. Hospitals don't count."

"Hospitals?" he repeated. Ash shot him a warning look, gray eyes going stormy. Eddie decided it was probably best to back off.

After a moment, the storm clouds gave way to clear skies again, and her eyes flicked over his shirt. Ash smiled, as if she'd just cracked some great code.

"You got the Hellfire Club thing from X-Men." she said, "Which means you… are more of a nerd than you let on."

"Not bad." he admitted, glancing down at the stylized demon on his shirt. He looked back at Ash, drumming his fingers on the table as he thought through his next play. "And you have a sister, don't you?" He thought he’d seen her before, here or there, and sometimes she was accompanied by a girl a few years younger.

"Stepsister. I'll count it." she responded, "You don't. You're an only child."

He nodded.

"Dog person?"

"Yeah. You haven't cut your hair since middle school."

"Yeah. Neither have you."

"Cheap. But you're right." Ash shrugged, "English is your best subject.”

“What, did they show you my grade records?” Eddie challenged, leaning back in his seat, “That’s cheating, you know.”

“Nope. Those are confidential.” she countered effortlessly, “I can just tell. You like telling stories. You like being a part of the stories. Which means English is probably your best."

His eyebrows must have lifted straight to his hairline, but he nodded.

"You’re good.” he huffed, competitive annoyance sparking through him. Eddie chewed his lip, dark eyes flicking over her as he tried to pick out another clue. She was still picking at the hem of her sweater, fiddling with a loose thread. It was her mother’s, she’d said. And she had a stepsister, which meant one of her parents had gotten remarried at some point. He was willing to bet it was her father.

And just like that, he had his guess.

“I'm sorry you lost your mom."

"Damn, Munson," she muttered, "Though I guess I set that one up, didn't I?"

"Just a little." he admitted, though he felt a pang of guilt for having guessed correctly. Was the game usually this intense when she played it with other people?

"You like making people laugh." Ash guessed a moment later, looking at him with those inscrutable gray eyes. It was like she was looking straight into his mind and plucking out all the thoughts that sat there. The next time he put a wizard into his Hellfire campaign, he was sure he’d give the wizard the same sharp, all-seeing gray eyes.

"Who doesn't?" he pointed out, remembering at once what she’d said.

"But I mean, you'd do anything for the sake of a joke. Like standing on lunch tables." Ash replied. He couldn't exactly argue with that.

"Yeah, alright."

The game seemed to be moving into tougher territory, past the east and obvious assumptions and moving into more difficult realms. And he wanted to give her a hardball.

"You… have had a crush on the same guy for years, but you won't ask him out because you're afraid of rejection. And he's probably on the basketball team."

And Ash laughed.

"Hell no! Those guys are assholes." she blurted, shaking her head, "Strike three, Munson. I told you I always win."

"I guess we'll have to have a rematch."

Despite the game, he still didn't know all that much about her. But, maybe even because of the game, he was curious.

“I suppose we will.” Ash agreed, shooting him a warm smile, “But another time.” She drummed her fingers on the table, and Eddie found himself wondering once again at that black nail polish. He was sure it didn’t mean anything. She probably just liked black. Enough people did. But he had a hunch.

“So,” she started, sliding a notebook off her massive stack of books and flipping it open, “Tell me about your day. Any day. What do you like to do?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing pre-calc?”

She pressed her lips together for a long moment, debating how to respond. Her fingers were tapping on the table again, and Eddie could have sworn the rhythm sounded like a few of the drum fills in For Whom the Bell Tolls.

“We could, if you really wanted to get it over with,” she finally said, “But I don’t think you’d retain much. I don’t mean that in a rude way- not at all. But it seems like that’s not your kind of learning, and it’s not really my kind of teaching either. I think this’ll go a lot better if I know a little more about you.”

He found it a little funny, how quickly she could switch from tutor-mode to what sounded like genuine friendly conversation, then back to tutor-mode just as quickly. He still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her.

“I could start, if you want.” she blurted a moment later, “If that’s more comfortable.” She didn’t give him a chance to decide, just leaned back in her seat and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Ash Kinzler. I’m nineteen years old, and I’m a senior. I grew up in Muncie, and my family moved to Hawkins two years ago. It’s me, my dad, my stepmom and stepsister, and our dog. Her name’s Layla. The dog, I mean. My stepsister’s name is Isabelle. Let’s see… I’ve played percussion since I was in sixth grade… tried out for All-State once but didn’t make it past the district level. I’d love to be in a band sometime- like, a real band, not a school band. I like music and horror novels and word puzzles, and I’m planning to study law in college.”

“Wait, you’re nineteen?” Eddie asked, so focused on that part that’s he barely heard the rest, “But-”

“Yup.” Ash replied, apparently reading his mind, “Long story short - very short - I ended up in the hospital and had to re-do my freshman year once I got back. Don’t ask, because you’re not getting anything else. Your turn.”

He didn’t miss how cagy she’d gotten at the mention of the hospital.

____

[And that's all I've got of it so far, didn't even finish the first chapter, but I really enjoyed the energy of it. Definitely need to go back and give it a little more attention once I have the chance.]

#my writing #my ocs #ash kinzler #unposted ideas #wip #my wips #stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson

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mina-star · 7 months ago

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COMFORT HOUSE CHAPTER ONE

She awoke to sound of shuffling. She peered through her blanket fort as she froze with fear. A being with what looked like 4 eyes none of its face. It slightly was visible due to the light of the alarm clock. Unlucky for her the thing saw her. It growled ripping the blanket off the bunk bed.

It's voice gravely and creepy dripping with awful intention. Not speaking only growling.

Her breathing was heavy as she tried to run for the door and she grabbed. It's hand the size of her whole waist. She screamed for her parents but nothing came out. She kicked and punched but the creature didn't move only tightening almost like it was trying to pop her like a balloon. Tears streaming down her cheeks crying out to no one. Until with one swift slice the creature fell in two letting her drop though she didn't hit the ground. She looked up to see something she couldn't believe "Hey..you ok?" Asked a familiar voice she only heard in her TV. A turtle stood holding her with blue mask with his brothers. Quickly going human at the site her fearful eyes. "I'm..dreaming..I'm.." the girl hiccupped barely being able to speak. "nope not a dream!" The younger brother smiled with a bright orange hoodie and overalls covered in patches. His fluffy hair framing his freckled covered face. The girl quickly lost consciousness. Later waking up in a house she didn't know. With voices she recognized but they shouldn't be real. She slowly sat up with the whole room looked at her. "My queen she's awoken!" "Gundham we've talked about this-" "Not the time for your unwarranted agurements." Another boy. One with bright yellow jacket and black jacket "Hey..are you alright?" "This isnt.." "This is fully real my queen." "gundham." "Don now isn't the time" she sat there wide eyed with everyone she found comfort in the people wanted to in arms off when she was upset or sad. Squeal of a pig could be heard. The girl turned her head "Waddles...?" The pig jumped into her lap. "My lady!" The pigs owner jumped on the couch hugging the girl "Mabel! Careful!!" The Tall blonde boy said with worry

"Am..i..dead..?"

"Ok we are going .further."

"No..you are alive"

" Should I get the mug? Feel like I should get the mug. I'm getting the mug."

"So..uh... astral projection.."

"How did we get there?"

The purple one with short hair brought her a mug. "read this my lady" "..I live off sarcasm and coffee"

The small girl giggled

"I made him that. WAIT I NEED TO MAKE YOU ONE!"

"So My lady. You aren't dreaming you couldn't read in a dream. You are alive. You can breathe and you aren't Astral projecting because" he grabbed her hand "I can infact touch you. You are also on the couch."

She looked around "..right..so uh.." she pet the pig in her lap which was nuzzling into her lower stomach "where..I am?"

"Your comfort house!" The girl.- Mabel said Happily

"..ok that kinda uh explains all..of you..being here....sorta..sorry I'm..kinda processing? I guess"

"your fine my lady" Mirio assured

"Why are you calling me my lady?...I'm..I don't know just me"

The girl pushed up her glasses and shrugged

"your the head of the house! We are your comfort characters! So you kinda run the house!" Tanjiro explained leaning over the couch with a bright smile

"Oh!" The girl whispered. Nodding content.

"IVE GOTTA GET THAT MUG"

'MABEL WAIT SHES IN NO STATE TO PAINT-"

The girl chuckled

Tack who had been in the back picked her up "Whoa!"

He walked up the stairs grabbing some sort of keys and unlocking a door at the middle pushing it open

"This looks..nice. I like the smell ...it smells like my mom's perfume."

Tack walked over to a picture hug on the wall of the girl and her mother. He gently but firmly grabbed her hand putting on the picture. Causing it to glow

"Is..this uh.." she looked at the glowing light "How I go home..?" Tack nodded. She went through falling onto her floor. Looking at the clock it was 5:38. "Jesus..how long was i gone for.." the growling came back. She looked up with horror. How the fuck wasn't it dead. She screamed sound actually coming out. A shining light pierced the room a Kusari-fundo wrapping the monster causing to fade.

"MY LADY!" Mikey hugged her "I heard you scream in the room..he did hurt you?" "..mentally or.. physical?" She tried to joked.

"Let's go.. physical?" "No..he didn't touch me." "Good" he got up and headed up to the rise poster which hung in her room

"Wait Mikey" he turned "Yeah?" "How do I..visit..again..?" "uhh. I'm gonna be honest I don't know. This has never happened before. I overheard Mike saying he was gonna get in contact with Ms.Miku!"

"Like Hatsune Miku?" She asked "Mhm! Posters are kinda portals! It how I got here!" He smiled. "Till next time!" And he jumped into the portal.

The girl looked around her "..how the fuck did my parents not hear that scream. Wait fans-"

#comfort house #comfort character #FINALLY A CHAPTER #MEET MY FUCKIN PASSION PROJECT.

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toasecretsanta · 2 years ago

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A New Future

A gift for @littleredniacurutu written by @ithinkiamafungi, using the prompt “Apollo and Rachel friendship”

Warnings for blood and major character death

"Hi".

Rachel looked up from her book as Apollo made his way inside.

Today he was sporting a new look, like an actor in his 40s, light stubble on face, white button up shirt and crimson pants.

Over the years, many young children at the camp had asked Rachel the same question, "But how do you recognize him every time!?" the answer was simple, his aura was unmistakable.

Rachel was in her seventies. her hair was more silver and whiter than red. she had wrinkles around her face. and her power of divine visions didn’t stop her eyesight to decline either. she has been using glasses since she entered her 40s.

But Apollo had no sign of aging like that on him. Because some kind of immortal god he was. immortals don’t age. time is stagnant for them. Even then, his aging was visible to her, it was visible in his every disguise. every new look he chose for himself in honor of some event every couple of months.

Rachel wondered who was he honoring today.

She greeted him with a smile, "I can’t believe you are here on your own free will".

"I am not here on my own free will and you know that". he said, making air quotes at “free will”. Then he sighed. "But I am here anyways".

Rachel couldn’t help but smile at that.

"Come here. I got a vision last night, so I painted it".

She brought him towards the freshly painted canvas.

It was image of a girl, blonde. with dark blue eyes and flecks of green in them. She had freckles on her warm golden-brown skin.

"pretty" Apollo commented.

"She is" Rachel admitted.

"No, I was talking about the painting" Apollo hesitated "but you are right. The girl is pretty, too".

Rachel blushed, then swatted at Apollo’s arm.

"Thanks. Now, I tried to find the girl but I had no success. maybe you can try with your divine powers, get a hint" Rachel requested.

She turned from the painting to look at Apollo, who was staring at her with a mixed expression, it looked like concern to Rachel, but Apollo masked it quickly.

"Yeah, yeah sure. " Apollo said and closed his eyes.

"Uhm, Esperanza Golde, 13-year-old, mortal. She lives in Cali. " He spoke.

"Great, I think we should visit her".

Apollo hesitated again. His hesitation was starting to annoy Rachel. She wanted to get over with this task fast, before she changed her mind, but she didn’t want to explain this to Apollo, because he would totally abort this little mission of theirs once he knew.

Apollo snapped his finger twice and teleported them to a new location.

They were standing behind a tree on a low hill now.

A group of kids were having a picnic at the foot of the hill on the soft grass.

And then Rachel spotted her, Esperanza. She was chatting cheerfully with her friends, Esperanza was dressed in all black, she had safety pins hanging from the torn areas in her ripped jeans, yet as Rachel observe her, she grew more and more fond of her with each passing minute, she reminded her of… Nico Di Angelo.

The demigod passed away a long time ago, but he was one of his kind, a rare soul,

she remembered meeting him when he was still angry at Percy, she remembered him sitting besides her when she became the new oracle because he was scared when he saw her life flicker away at that one sensitive moment.

She remembered receiving visions of him being in new Rome but never understanding them until really late when it was revealed that there was a roman camp as well, she remembered the visions of Tartarus, the moment when he brough Athena Parthenos at ChB,

the moments she spent with him afterwards, painting and chatting away, his pretty smile, his threatening scowl, his earthshaking powers, and soul wrenching kindness. She remembered it all at that moment seeing Esperanza.

Rachel wiped at a glass eye.

“I want to test her” Apollo jerked her out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“I want to test her, is she ready for the task yet, I don’t know Rachel. She seems fragile. Compared to you, I don’t think she would be able to host the oracle”

Rachel stared at him blankly, his face was giving away no emotion. What about this girl Apollo couldnt see as potential, she appeared as if she was born for this.

She wondered if Apollo was putting up a pretense, a defense wall, as if he was bottling up a lot of things inside him. Rachel wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to remove her focus from the task at hand. Because she wanted this, she wished she could do it on her terms, as and when she felt comfortable, and right now felt the rightest time.

At last, she decided to speak up.

“Don’t compare her to me Apollo, don’t do that, she looks perfect to me but, I won’t stop you from testing her, if you want to do that, go ahead. “

“I will pay a visit to her dreams tonight” Apollo told her and then teleported them back to Rachel’s cave and vanished himself after greeting a quick good bye.

Rachel was alone, she was tired, and the more she tried to process Apollo’s behavior today, or the past few days really, the more stressed she got. She remembered the day when he told Apollo she wants them to find a new oracle for the camp.

He had told her he was worried about her, that it’s been a century and more since hades’ s curse, that he never thought he would have anther oracle besides her, that he was scared. But Rachel had convinced him. Hadn’t she. Then why was he acting weird today.

Was he still worried. Is this a bad decision. What would happen after it was all over. Should she continue. Thoughts filled her head. She brought a painting can and splashed the contents onto a blank canvas. It calmed her down, if only a little, and then she picked up her brushes and started to paint. Her hand moved as if they had a brain of their own, she didn’t give the process much thought. By the time she was done, she was staring at Nico. His smile was contagious. She smiled at him.

She was tired so she went to sleep. And she dreamt.

In here dream Apollo was a young boy, almost the same age as Esperanza, dark brown skin and close-cropped hair, warm brown eyes that would melt anyone, he was talking to Esperanza. Rachel watched the whole scene unfold.

Esperanza stood straight, her arms crossed over her chest, but she was looking down while speaking.

“So… you are telling me you are Apollo, the Greek god of prophecy healing music science etc. etc. etc. etc., and the monsters are real thing, and I am going to the school of troubled kids because my parents can’t see them and y’all the way I do and they think I am lying, and that I can have the power of predicting the future if I followed your instructions”

“precisely” Apollo smiled at her.

Esperanza seemed to be in the realm of thoughts for a really long time. Then she decided to question further.

“Will I get to see my friends and family or will I be trapped?”

“Will I be able to predict what will be on my tests?”

“How dangerous are your tasks going to be?”

Apollo answered all of them as best as he could, and he clearly explained to her that the tasks can actually take her life, that they can kill her.

She remained silent after this, as if weighing all the pros and cons in her mind. Apollo didn’t care. He kept silent. But his attitude was nothing like the day, he had a warm smile pressed to his face. As if testing her every second, analyzing.

“I accept, if a god has come to me asking me if I want to join him, I wont disrespect them, its against what my mama taught me. And I dont really need to share my other reasonings do I?”

“No, you do not”, Apollo said and brought his hand forward, Esperanza shook it firmly.

Apollo kept bringing news on how Esperanza is dealing with his tests every day, they were mild at first but they were getting harsher day by day, but Esperanza was handling them well enough, and Rachel was happy. But she also felt the final day’s dread looming close and closer.

They sat together and saw her progress from Rachel’s cave, uninvited visions. Monsters. Labyrinth navigation. Rachel realized they were more or less simillar to what she experienced during her teens.

“Did you do that to me too?” she asked one day.

“Do what?”

“Test me. Give me tasks. Navigating the labyrinth, helping in a war?”

“Rachel” Apollo turned towards her “It happened as the fates spun for you and me, we were fated to form this bond, just like Esperanza is fated to be here. And no, I didn’t test you. I just thought these are good enough tasks to test her.

“How long?”

“Till I am satisfied”.

-x-

Rachel woke up in cold sweat, the sun was shining bright outside, she quickly got dressed and ran outside, the camp satyrs were running around carrying bandages and mortal medicines, she noticed that none of them had ambrosia or nectar.

“Fred” Rachel called a satyr.

“What is happening, who is injured so bad, why aren’t you using ambrosia and nectar.” Rachel asked

“My lady” Fred bowed, “there was a mortal running towards half-blood hill with 4 dracnae following behind, lord Chiron happened to be strolling near the border at that time, he gave the permission to get in the camp borders and carried her to safety. she has broken bones and other fatal injuries, lord Chiron is operating her, but since she is a mortal, we cannot use the food of gods”.

Rachel remembered what Apollo had said last night,

“If she makes it to camp, I am ninety percent sure the spirit of Delphi will accept her as a host”

She made to camp half blood alive. Rachel took a long breathe.

“Am I allowed to see her”

“Sorry milady, lord Chiron has barred everyone from seeing the girl, he says mortals are fragile and company of too many beings can make them sick”.

Rachel wanted to argue, she wanted to tell the faun that she is a mortal too, that she knows how mortals are, that she won’t make Esperanza sick. But she didn’t say anything. She let the satyr go. And she got ready to face the inevitable. Maybe facing that moment with confidence would make Nico proud. Rachel thought to herself.

Chiron didn’t let Esperanza leave the infirmary for days even after she regained her consciousness. Rachel and Apollo had decided not to tell him anything about a new oracle until the final moment. And Rachel was counting every moment.

She remembered the day she became the oracle.

She wasn’t injured like Esperanza, she wasn’t tested my Apollo every day, she had it easier than Esperanza.

But as she saw Esperanza stand on her legs with a little trouble, but with so much confidence, she felt confident in her, she knew in her heart that this girl who reminded her of her old comrade will be a great successor, the perfect Pythia for the Oracle of Delphi.

"Are you ready Esperanza? " Rachel stared into her dark blue and green eyes.

"Since the start" She affirmed.

Apollo came down towards them in his chariot, it’s happening, it’s happening right now, Rachel realized.

"Do you accept the risks?"

"I do."

"Then proceed," Apollo said.

Esperanza closed her eyes. "I accept this role. I pledge myself to Apollo, God of Oracles. I open my eyes to the future and embrace the past. I accept the spirit of Delphi, Voice of the Gods, Speaker of Riddles, Seer of Fate."

Rachel relived the moment through Esperanza while the words flowed out of her as the Mist thickened. A green column of smoke, like a huge python, uncoiled from the Rachel’s mouth and slithered down the stairs, curling affectionately around Esperanza’s feet. Rachel collapsed, Mist enveloped Rachel in a column.

For a moment she couldn’t see anything at all. Then the smoke cleared. Esperanza was lying on the ground in front of her. Nobody else had moved. Except Apollo. Who was kneeling besides Rachel. She sat up, then she coughed, and blood spilled out of her throat.

“I am sorry Rachel, I am sorry I hid this from you, you deserved to know this”. If anyone else would have heard him, they would have assumed his voice was calm, but she heard a hint of panic on his voice too.

“Shhh, Apollo, I hid this from you too, I saw it, in a vision, I never told you, but I always knew.” Rachel coughed again, and more blood came out of her mouth.

“I … I was trying to buy time, tasking Esperanza, so that I could spend more time with you, but Esperanza was…”

“is” Rachel corrected.

“But Esperanza is so skilled, it never gave me much time”

“And I”, Rachel coughed again “and I wanted to make Esperanza the oracle as soon as I could”.

“Why?”

“Because It’s my destiny, Apollo, it’s yours too, and its hers too”. Rachel looked at Esperanza, who was now sitting upright. Taken care of by various nymphs and satyrs. She smiled weakly.

“What can I do to honour you?” Apollo sobbed.

Rachel took Esperanza’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Take care of her, she’s going to make a wonderful Oracle." Rachel said through heavy breathing.

And then her whole world turned dark.

#toasecretsanta #ithinkiamafungi #littleredniacurutu #rachel elizabeth dare #pjo apollo #original character #trials of apollo #toa #riordanverse #trials of apollo fanfic #toa fanfic #riordanverse fanfic #character death #tw: blood

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hislittleraincloud · 11 months ago

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Caveat: I don't know exactly what the voters need to be looking for when judging this shit. And for all I know the paint blood F/X thing is more of a responsibility for the people behind the camera who want things to look good in the frame.

But really...I honestly cannot believe that this incongruous piece of shit makeup work from 'Woe What a Night' that I always point and laugh at when it's on my screen big or small won a goddamn Creative Arts Emmy for Outstanding Contemporary Non-Prosthetic Makeup...because shit like this exists in the episode:

In the earlier part of the scene, it's watery paint. We can see that, and we can see how it dripped onto Ortega's face in that thin film, full face coverage, then right after her vision, she zips out of the ballroom intent on getting to Eugene.

But then some ✨creative✨ thought that it would be cool to mix up actual stage blood and then dump it onto Ortega's clearly clean face, even though the paint didn't have that thicker consistency at all (because yanno...Stupid Viewers Are Stupid and Won't Notice, it's not important, so long as it looks okay! which I've never thought that it does 💀). I wouldn't take issue with this if they had just used the stage blood to begin with, but there are pro rules for that too, with professional makeup artists warning not to misuse stage blood:

"...Misusing fake blood can also quickly make a realistic design appear overtly fake. When designing a look, consider the optimal color and thickness of any fake blood you intend to use. It should closely resemble the wound or effect you are trying to create.

Pro Tip: To make a special effects makeup look more realistic, consider the direction that blood would flow from a wound, or how the blood would splatter. Don’t simply spray blood in every direction. In real life, this doesn’t happen NEARLY as much as you’d think."

I can't be the only one annoyed by the difference, SINCE WEDNESDAY EXPLICITLY SAID THAT SHE WAS DISAPPOINTED THAT THEY COULDN'T EVEN SPRING FOR PIG'S BLOOD. "IT'S ONLY PAINT." And it wasn't just on Ortega's clean face, it's on Ricci's clean face too:

✨But Tor, it LOOKS BETTER TH --✨

NO.

NO, IT DOESN'T.

This is just some bull💩 if the Academy thinks this was better contemporary makeup work than The Last of Us, AHS, or Picard. As much as I like and tolerate this show, its continuity is HORRENDOUS, as I've pointed out in Fuck Those Propmasters.

...So congrats(?) on casting some kind of spell over the voters for the win. I haven't even mentioned the CAKE on Ortega's face throughout that erases all of her freckles. Yes, I get it, she had to do whiteface since Wednesday is pale/dead looking, but there was just too much in some places that was really noticeable. (It's most evident when she talks to Enid at the beginning with her Murder Board and when Xavier makes her ask him to the Rave'N. But then it isn't caked during the Rave'N itself. It's actually not as caked on in other episode scenes, like when she's opening her snood gift. Perhaps the makeup of the Rave'N was a factor since it was nice, especially the Nightshade girls and Enid.)

Anyway, IDGAF if I sound like a raging cunt. I expect things that win awards to be legit worthy of recognition...this was not. Not for this, at least. Contemporary Costuming, fair, I guess (I mean...the Nevermore uniforms seem like an homage to Beetlejuice, the cat costumes Batman Returns, but otherwise, costuming seemed rather boring to me, but whatever, maybe it was the contrast between Wends and her colorful roommate that made it stand out). But not makeup, it was just way too inconsistent and there were better nominees.

ETA: I had to re-edit this because some of my other edits didn't save for some reason.

#signed - a very cranky ex-A&E critic #woe what a shitshow #woe what a night #paint vs stage blood #wednesday #wednesday netflix #netflix wednesday #jenna ortega #christina ricci #creative arts #emmys

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kats-chaotic-wonderland · 10 months ago

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The First Steps

This is the first in my collection of Pokemon oneshots. They're not super high stakes, just some fun moments from my playthrough of SV that I wrote into a small storyline. This is mostly a character introduction to set up one of the two main characters. Please enjoy!

It was a bright shining day in the southern province of Paldea. The sun broke through the curtains, a beam of sunlight running across and hitting the young girl sleeping peacefully in her bed, right across the eyes.

With a groan she tossed and yanked her covers over her eyes. After getting accepted to the academy she had rearranged her room, new chapters and all that. But she was starting to regret that decision. Reluctantly she sat up, yawning she glanced at the mirror in front of her, even from across the room she could see her hair was a wreck.

Cringing slightly at her morning look she forced herself out of bed. Stumbling to her bathroom she spent a while cleaning the sleep away. Before getting her hair tamed, and picking out her make up for the day she headed to the wardrobe. Taking a moment and changing into her uniform, she looked herself over in the mirror. The uniform wasn't what she liked, but she was planning to ask for an allowance to at least swap the slacks for a skirt. Adjusting her blazer she nodded, satisfied enough at her appearance. Going back to her bathroom she started to make up her face, mildly frustrated that she couldn't hide her freckles well enough. Her mother's wouldn't allow her to use foundation or concealer at her age. Their reasoning being because of the risk of breakouts. So she did her best with her eyes an lips. Muted greys to match her eyes. Satisfied she took time to style her hair, her natural curls always took a while to tame. But by the time she was finished she looked quite put together.

Smiling satisfied with her appearance she turned out all the lights, gathered her things, and headed downstairs.

Making her way to the kitchen she found her mother, Moxanne, a retired model and pokemon contest star, at the stove. She turned and gave her daughter a cold look, her eyes sharp as ever. She was always like this, seemingly distant, cold, and angry. But her wife and daughter knew better. Mox was quite kind and loving, even if she wasn't the best at showing it.

"Selena, are you ready for school?" Her voice was clear, beautiful, it was rather comforting for her daughter.

Selena nodded setting her bag beside the table,"I am, is mom still in bed?" She looked up at her mother.

"She's out back in the studio," Mox gestured towards the back door as she plated some eggs.

Selena went over to peek at the food, it mostly looked edible. Her mom was the one who could cook, her mother not so much. "She stay up again?"

"Yes, you know how her condition is." She nodded as she went to set plates on the table,"Would you please go see if she's hungry, I'd like us to eat together."

"Yes ma'am." She nodded and headed out to the studio shed in the back yard.

Her mom, Kathryn, had chronic insomnia and a few assorted health issues that resulted in her staying up several nights a week working. Mox understood how much it affected her, so she made sure that accommodations were always made for her wife, and Kathryn did her best to ensure that the situation never became a strain on the two of them.

Selena stepped into the shed and stopped just in time to dodge a flying lump of something that slapped into the wall past her and stuck before slowly slipping down. She paused and looked at it, before slowly turning to see her mom sitting at a pottery wheel, covered in multiple colors of clay slip. Kathryn blinked surprised, still in the position she had been in when the clay flew off the wheel.

"Well...." She said surprised,"....you know....i can paint, sculpt, blow glass, animate, sew, and everything in between. But I swear every time I try and throw pottery it's a disaster."

Selena smirked and shook her head,"eh, something had to be your weakness mom."

"apparently." She chuckled and grabbed a rag,"how are you this morning fusspot?"

She wrinkled her nose at the nickname,"Fine, mother made breakfast though."

Kathryn also wrinkled her nose,"Oh joy. How bad is it?"

"looks edible." She shrugged with a small smile.

"Well that's progress, but I'll make you a snack to go just in case." She chuckled as she stood and went to the sink to wash up and remove her apron.

"i would appreciate it." She smiled watching her mom.

Kathryn was an artist, and an incredible one at that. She and Moxanne had met during their days on their pokemon journeys. Eventually meeting again in their professional careers and deciding to settle down together in Paldea. They had had Selena only a year into their marriage. Mox retired from modeling to give birth, and Kath had moved her studio to the shed to be home.

Since then they had been a rather happy family. Mox assisted Kath in making a lot of the clothing and art pieces for the Paldea pokemon league, and so they had decent money to raise their daughter.

Waiting for her mom to clean up, Selena found herself distractedly looking outside. They didn't have too many Pokemon between them, but there were occasionally some that wandered in from the surrounding wilds. She found herself watching a starly flittering around the bushes. Pausing, only half listening as her mom rambled about the difficulty of throwing clay, she watched as the starly chirped and hopped across a tree branch to where her mother's Lucario was working with their Bulbasaur to water and tend her mother's flowers.

As she watched, he moved across the garden to where her mom's Appletun was napping in the sunlight. Stopping at the pond beside him, he picked up a pail, filling it with some water. When he turned to go back to watering the flowers, they locked eyes. Selena watched as he rolled his eyes, turned his nose up, and continued on. She huffed and stuck her tongue out at him. He glared at her and huffed before deliberately turning away.

He was always like that. Since she was younger Lucario had never much liked her. He wouldn't so much as speak to her like he would her mother. Always being incredibly annoyed when he had to help with her. For all his frustrations though, he'd never let her get hurt.

Selena was stirred from her thoughts as she felt her moms head rest on her shoulder suddenly, following her gaze out at the pokemon. "Hmm...still having a war of wills with mr.grumpypants?" She smiled

"I don't think he likes me." She shook her head

"Eh don't worry, he doesn't like me much either." Kathryn chuckled,"He was your mother's partner pokemon even back when we were kids. He's always been overprotective and snide."

"Snide?" Selena raised an eyebrow at her mom's word choice.

"Eh, you'll get it." She stood and ruffled her daughters hair,"Come on, lets go eat before Mox comes looking. Last thing we need is her fussing about the clay slip everywhere." There was a good natured humor to her words. Mox was often too stressed about keeping things clean, even out in the studio.

They stepped out and passed through the garden. Their home was fairly large, even by Paldea standards. It was a multi acer property surrounded by a wall. Inside was the main house, with three floors, a wrapped porch, library, vivarium, as well as bedrooms and other things. Surrounding that was the yard, decently spacious for the amount of gardens and pokemon that lived with them. There was a pond, some berry bushes, flowers, and a few large trees. Past that was the studio and stable. The studio was something of a smaller house for Kathryn to work in without disturbing anyone in the main house. And the stable was set up to house several kinds of Pokemon.

They followed the stone path from the studio to the house, passing the ever irritated Lucario on the way. He refused to look their way even as they were greeted by a rather happy Bulbasaur. Kathryn took a moment to give the small cabbage frog attention. Earning happy chirps from him. As she stood up she reached out and rubbed Lucario on the head, earning an annoyed look from him.

Selena watched curiously as the two seemed to have a silent conversation. It was always like this. They had a happy, supportive, loving, warm home. But she couldn't help but feel a little removed. Her mothers had bonds with their pokemon. And while they loved her, took great care to bond with her and spend time together. Something was missing, something they'd found while out on their own adventures. A sense of purpose bubbled up inside of her, excitement that hadn't been there when they received her academy acceptance. That feeling her friends had, that had never been present in her, was suddenly welling to the surface.

In just a few hours she would have her own pokemon. She would start her own journey. Finally, finally she would understand that look. The look behind her parents eyes. The looks they shared with their pokemon. Their peers. Finally she had hope to understand that feeling that had kept her feeling like an outsider in her own home.

Her thoughts were interrupted as her mom turned and caught her eyes. Her hand dropping from where she had been petting Lucario. "Lena?" She asked looking a little concerned

"Huh?" Selena blinked, her hand dropping from where she had been clutching her chest. She didn't even realize she'd gripped her blouse in her thoughts.

"You okay hun?" Kathryn furrowed her brow, moving to look her daughter over,"You looked like you were going to cry?"

Blinking confused she nodded,"Yeah....hey mom....did you ever feel...weird...when you left home?"

This made Kath pause,"Weird?" A look of thought crossed her eyes for a moment before she slowly smiled,"Yeah, i did." She pulled her daughter into a hug,"Don't stress kiddo, it's going to be everything you want and more."

Selena was surprised but slowly returned the hug,"I believe you."

"Good." She smiled and pulled away, patting her on the shoulders,"and remember, we're always here if you need a day or two at home."

She nodded looking up at her, a new spark in her eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago,"Yeah..."

Seeing the glimmer in Selena's eyes made Kathryn smile,"Now, breakfast."

--------

Soon the three of them were at at the table. Kathryn and Moxanne were chatting absently about some projects that the league wanted them to start on. Selena was only half listening as she watched out a window. This morning was just like any other, at her request. She didn't want anything big or sappy before heading to school. It was only a town over after all. She saw no sense in stressing everyone over such a small change.

She found herself watching her moms Arctozolt waddling around in the front yard, just goofily chasing some of the flechlings that were hopping about. Kathryn always liked pokemon that were a little awkward. Selena had grown up an array of goofy pokemon. Seeing the poor thing try to hop and puff frost at the small birds, she couldn't help but smile softly at the big silly creature.

Her thoughts were interrupted again however as her mother settled a parfait in front of her. Confused she looked up at her mother. A look of pride and joy glinting in Moxanne's eyes caught her off guard. Genuine smiles from her mother were rare. But they were always so beautiful it struck her every time.

"We know you said you didn't want anything special, but I felt like a parfait was a simple enough treat to start your journey off." She smiled sitting back down.

Kathryn slid her a spoon, giving her a proud smile,"Eat up. Vee said they'd be here pretty soon."

Selena looked at her moms and nodded before quickly digging into her treat. They had a good few minutes of family discussion, projects and classes, even talking about a vacation to Alola when break rolled around. It was almost like she wasn't leaving, like she'd be waking up in her own room tomorrow. But as that thought crossed her mind, there was a knock at the door.

Turning to look out the bay window their breakfast nook was settled in, she could see a familiar head of dark hair peeking out from the bushes near the door. Vee was here to walk with her. 'At least I'm not starting alone.' Selena thought as she grabbed her bag and finished her juice.

"Vee's here." She said as she stood up.

Mox and Kath shared a look before they got up and tidied the table. Kathryn handed Selena two sack lunches,"Here kiddo. So you two have lunch for your first day."

She took them, tucking hers in her backpack. Then Mox came over and knelt down to be eye level with her. Selina paused looking at her mother confused,"Mother?"

"Selena," she took her hands and smiled,"I'm very happy you're getting to start your journey. It's going to be an incredible, difficult, wonderful, experience." She was incredibly emotional, for Mox at least. Selena didn't know what to say, she'd never really seen her mother like this. She glanced to her mom, only to find Kath smiling. Her eyes a little misty.

Mox spoke again, drawing her daughters attention,"I know you'll get your own pokemon today. But," she pulled out a pokeball. The crescent moon on the top surprised her.

"A moon ball?" She asked confused

Mox nodded,"This is the ball my mother gave to me to help me catch my first pokemon." She placed it in Selena's hand,"Now I'm trusting you to take him with you. I know our world is very safe. But Paldea is vast, and I worry. So I want you to take Lucario with you."

This caught her completely off guard,"W-wait...what?? He can't stand me?"

"He's a little abrasive," she laughed,"But he does care. Even if he's not good at showing it."

"Mother, he won't even talk to me." She protested

"He will," she gave her a kiss on her forehead,"Please, I know I'm asking a lot, but it would make me worry less to know you have him."

Her objections crumbled as she nodded,"Yes mother, I'll take him."

"thank you my love," she cupped her cheeks,"You'll have a wonderful time. I just know it."

Selena nodded, feeling uneasy now. Lucario was never fond of her, and he probably wasn't excited to be tagging along.

"come on kiddo." Kathryn patted her shoulder, snapping her out of her worry,"There's a whole world waiting for you." She nodded towards the door,"Go do your best."

Without a word, Selena pulled them both into a tight hug. Then, pulling away, she headed to the door.

Stepping out she was met with a very Eager Vee. Vee was her best friend, they'd met when they were five, having lived nextdoor to each other all their lives. Their violet eyes were sparkling with excitement as they gave an excited wave.

Selena smiled and made a motion with her hand to greet good morning. Vee grinned and signed back the same. Moving their hands to ask if she was ready to go. Selena nodded and handed over the sack lunch. This made Vee do a little happy dance as they tucked the bag away for later.

Selena giggled and got their attention to sign,'Mom made it.'

This made Vee give her a dramatic prayer gesture, a playful way of saying thanks that it was Kathryn's cooking instead of Mox's.

"Oh," Selena gave her another motion before pulling out the moon ball and signing,'Mother gave me Lucario.'

They blinked looking at the ball flabbergasted, then frantically signed,'Seriously?? Doesn't he hate you?'

Selena shrugged,'Mother seems sure he'll protect me.'

Vee shrugged and made a looping motion by their head,'Crazy lady.'

'Sometimes,' Selina signed with a giggle.

'Come on,' Vee held out their hand,'We don't want to be late.'

Selena smiled and took their hand, they smiled and tugged her forward. They laughed as they left the walkway, taking their first steps into the great big world together.

This was the start of their journey.

Selena glanced back at the house as they walked away, catching a glimpse of her mother's watching from the window. She took a breath and smiled as she turned to the road ahead. Whatever happened, she was absolutely not ready, but she was going to do her best.

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#pokemon oc #pokemon #pokeblr #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon scarlet and violet #paldea #lucario #arctozolt #lesbians in fiction #nonbinary #mute character

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justoneacatperson · 3 years ago

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Two babies broccoli

Alpha! GN! Reader x Pregnant! Omega! Midoriya Izuku (Headcanon)

This is reupload from my old blog!

I would say that his pregnancy was accidental, not planned. You are two heroes who are trying to climb the charts, and your mate is struggling to be the number 1 hero, there are no children in your plans.

But apparently a month ago, when you both entered your cycles at the same time, blurred by lust and instincts, you forgot protection. So now the green-haired omega walks back and forth in the bathroom, muttering hundreds of questions under his breath as he waits for the time for the pregnancy tests to over.

His phone rang, announcing that the time had over. He stopped the alarm, looked in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Now is the time, he thought. He took one of the three tests, looking at how many traits had. Two large clear red lines appeared. Midoriya couldn’t believe it, looked at the other tests, seeing the same results. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to erupt like waterfalls.

Now what? He has to tell you. You’ve both commented that you want children at some point in your life, but not is the time. Deku is already in the top 10 best heroes, and you are in 17th place. It took a lot of time and effort for both of you to get to where you are now. Are you ready for that? You put a lot of time and work into reaching this position. Will you be happy or angry? He never saw you angry at him, you were the most wonderful mate in the world in many ways, but now the situation is very different from all you have been in.

It was late when you came home from a patrol and imprisoned several villains while Izuku had been home for several days due to illness.

-“Izu?” you called, taking off your shoes in the hallway. You immediately heard footsteps on the floor coming towards you. You looked up smiled when you saw your omega. -“How are you?” you asked, giving him a hug.

-“I should ask you this question.” he replied, running his finger over the cut on your shoulder.

-“A villain managed to hurt me, but it’s nothing serious, just a scratch.” you answered quickly so as not to bother your mate. -“So you?”

-“Well… I have something to tell you.” he replied, arousing your curiosity. You released him from your embrace, placing your hands on his shoulders.

-“Whatever it is, I’m listening.”

Midoriya tried to say something, but no sound came out of his mouth, so he took the test out of his pocket, showing it to your eyes. It took you a second to realize what he showed you, and immediately your eyes widened.

-”Omega, you…”

-“Yes, I’m pregnant.” he did not know what to expect before you wrapped your arms around him, lifting him off the ground and turning him a few times in a circle. -“(Y/n) !?” exclaimed Izuku, stopping you. You smiled, kissing his nose.

-“I’m very happy, Izu.” you said, touching your forehead with his. The omega chirped merrily, and tears streamed from his eyes. -“It would be amazing to have puppies together.”

First Trimester:

Midoriya wanted to keep working while he could. He takes only tasks related to patrolling and paperwork, and starting to show his pregnancy, he will go on leave maternity and will only do paperwork.

You have become very protective of your omega. You will always scent him from head to toe to mark it as your own.

You had to tell your mate’s mother. Inko was in complete ecstasy, crying and hugging her son in a bear hug, shouting how proud she was of you two and that she couldn’t wait to become a grandmother.

He had a slight morning sickness that he only had in the morning and late at night.

His sense of smell and hunger sharpened. From morning to night he eats his favorite food - katsudon, but of course you can`t leave your pregnant mate to eat only that. Midoriya has no food he hates or can’t eat, but sometimes there are many weird combinations of foods he likes to eat.

On your appointment to a doctor, you both learned that you were expecting twins. You were both in shock and joy at the same time. You didn’t expect to have more than one puppy, so you need to rearrange your plans a bit. Because he had twins, he started showing up early, and your protective alpha instinct didn’t want to put him on missions anymore, so he was left to do only paperwork.

Second Trimester:

In fact, Deku is a very nesting omega. The nest has always been the most comfortable and safe place for omega, their confidential place. The green-haired omega needed his nest more during his years of growth, due to the traumatic news that he was quirkless, the constant harassment by Katsuki had made him spend more time in his nest, seeking solace. He now has a new occupation to remodel his nest for hours until he thinks it’s okay. He was so focused that you asked if he needed anything, if you could get more things for his nest.

He had made several nests in your house. The main nest was in your bedroom, next to your bed - big, fluffy, soft, made mainly of All Might merch, of course. There are two smaller ones in the living room and in the nursery where your puppies will be.

Izuku had pain in his ankles and back from the weight of the twins. You will often smear him with oils, giving him a light massage. He always tried to tell you that he was fine and didn’t need to, but you’ve seen enough of him since his school years to be with Recovery Girl or in the hospital often, because he doesn’t take care of himself and makes life-threatening decisions, you don`t want him to get worse, you have no rejection, and your omega has no choice but to agree.

Stretch marks appeared on his abdomen and thighs, which you bless! You will not allow insecurity to crawl up to Deku, you will always show that you love him and he attracts you, no matter how he looks like.

You started making the children`s room. Your close friends like Uraraka, Iida, Shoto, Tsu, even Bakugou helped you a lot with painting the walls, assembling the furniture. (Katsuki even made very spicy ramen for the green-haired omega, as you told him that he’s been craving spicy lately).

You were above the moon when you felt the puppies kicking under your palms.

At your next checkup, you found out that your twins are girls.

Third Trimester:

In the last months of his pregnancy, Izuku did not want you to leave him alone home. His inner omega needed you more than usual and will whine when he doesn’t get enough attention or closeness from you.

Spend most of his time lying in his nest and sleeping, to your happiness and surprise. It is rare to see Izuku Midoriya do nothing You like to lie next to him and brush up his curly hair with your fingers.

Babies became very active in his womb. They move and kick. You were both in cloud nine when they began to move in his belly, and you will both enjoy those moments. But in recent months, the puppies are too strong and kick their mother in the kidneys and ribs, which does not affect him well. It is difficult to calm them, your omega manages to sleep no more than 3 to 4 hours a night, because at night they are very active. This is slightly offset by his constant bed rest.

Birth:

7 hours of labour - sweat, tears, fatigue, but they were worth it when your little ones came into the world. You held one of your daughters while Midoriya held the other. They both looked the same - curly (h/c) hair, emerald green eyes, freckles all over their faces, and their skin something between yours and his color.

-“They’re beautiful.” you said, sitting on the hospital bed next to your omega. He let out a little tired purr, leaning against your chest.

-“That’s right.” you planted a kiss on his head.

#bnha omegaverse #mha omegaverse #bnha mpreg #mha mpreg #omega izuku midoriya #omega midoriya izuku #omega deku #izuku midoriya x fem!reader #deku x fem!reader #deku x male reader

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pinkipeachiikeen · 2 years ago

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Galaxy Boy (Yamaguchi x Fem!Reader)

Hurt/comfort oneshot

Word count: 6230

Summary: Yamaguchi overhears Y/n talking about how much she hates her *‘freckles’ so Yamaguchi wants her to give him a makeover- but gets a whole lot more than he bargained for

childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, anxious yams, lots of fluff

Authors Note: I really went all out in this fic- a lot more than expected. I just relate to Yamaguchi a lot anxiety wise which took this fic from a cute little scenerio type thing to a whole 6000+ story and honestly? I’m not ashamed. I hope this can provide some comfort to others that suffer with anxiety as well

Also even though it says reader has freckles- reader is not of specific race and their was no skin tone set in mind and does not have to have freckles

Content warnings: VERY anxious Yams. and VERY brief mentions of self harm? (Yams mentions picking freckles off)

Likes, reblogs and comments are much apprecited! Tell me what you liked in the story! How it made you feel! Every comment and such is motivation for me to write more

“I look DISEASED!”

“Girl, you look fine.”

“Do you not see them! I’m hideous!

“Y/n, it’s not even that bad! Stop being so dramatic.”

And someone who had a crush on them for almost as long.

Yamaguchi never meant to fall for her, it just kind of happened, like most cases of young love. Y/n is just so- How can Yamaguchi even explain it? She’s just so ethereal to him. Like a fairy, brightening up everyone's world, and pulling them out of their dark, dim shell. She speaks her mind and stands her ground, something that is so foriegn to him, theat he tends to forget she struggles with her own troubles from time to time as well. Yamaguchi finds himself feeling lucky he got to see her become much more outgoing and comfortable in her skin over the years, but almost gets whiplash from seeing her stumble on her words and hide behind her hair with him, then biting back with playful- but harsh- jabs with Tsukishima.

He remembers the day he met her almost like it was yesterday. Back then he had no idea that she’d change his life forever, he just liked her drawing of her pet dog. She’d always been an artist, and he remembers watching her trying out different mediums every week. She’d show up to school with her bag stuffed to the brim with different pencils, markers and even paints. She had to learn to carry all her supplies in a separate bag after one tube burst open all over the contents of her bag. After that she had bags on bags on bags filled with all the materials she planned to use throughout the day and they only got more complex over the years. Yamaguchi recalls the day she ran into their shared classroom and announced that your new canvas of choice would be skin, as she wanted to experiment with makeup. Soon after the bags of art supplies dwindled down to her makeup case and bag of moisturizer she used and tried to convince him and Tsuhishima to invest in, which had little avail. Much like the times where she’d ask him and Tsukishima to pose as models in her pieces, she would ask them to be the models or ‘test subjects' for her makeup looks. Well not exactly. She never asks Yamaguchi to model.

He has to pretend that doesn’t hurt each time.

“Anyway, I stay in the sun too long ONCE and get all these freaking blemishes on my face. Once!” She complains, pointing to her face. Wait- is she pointing at- Her friend shakes her head. “It’s not even that bad! Can’t you use a cream or something to get rid of them?” Y/n shakes her head. “I tried everything! At this point i’m considering picking them off.” What?! Her friend sighs. “You really are dumber than I thought. How would you get to practice makeup with big old gashes on your skin? And you know they would probably just come back.” her friend reasons. Y/n flutters her lips as she adjusts her bag. “Yeah, I know. I'm just tired of looking at them And using so much makeup to cover them up all the damn time. I’m almost out of concealer. Again.” Y/n said something else as her and her friend walked back to their classroom, but they were too far out of earshot at that point and Yamaguchi couldn’t seem to care. His heart was plagued with her words.

“Diseased.”

“Hideous.”

“What are you even talking about?” Tsukkisima asks, while adjusting his headphones. “Whatever, it’s nothing,” Yamaguchi sighs and fiddles with the pencil in his hand. “What’s the answer to number six?” Tsukishima grasps Yamaguchi’s twiddling pencil. “Stop that shit. What’s up?” Yamaguchi bites his lip and mutters something incomprehensible. “Huh? Speak up.” “Why doesn’t Y/n ask me to model for her!?” Yamaguchi shouts, bursting out of his seat and slamming his hands down on the table garnering stares from everyone else in the library. Tsukishima’s eyes widen at his friend's outburst as Yamaguchi’s flushed face only gets redder. “Sorry.” he apologizes, settling back down in his chair.. “You really wanna be Y/ns test subject?” Tsukishima side eyes Yamaguchi. “Well I- uh- I mean.” he bites his lip. “I don’t necessarily not want to…y’know.” Yamaguchi tries to avoid Tsukishima's annoyed gaze. “It would be nice to be thought of?” Yamaguchi states trying to convince Tsukishima that any normal friend would want to be a makeup ‘test subject’, regardless of any romantic feelings involved.

“Dude.”

“Yes?”

“You’re freaking whipped. It’s pathetic.”

Damn, so much for that attempt. “I’m not…” Yamaguchi meets Tsukishima's gaze, already calling his bluff. “Okay maybe a little bit. But is that so bad?” Yamaguchi signs and clunks his head to the table. “ This shit has been going on for way too long. I’m starting to believe it’s a fucking kink or something since no one would actively draw this awkward pining shit out.” Yamaguchi rolls his eyes. It’s not like he would understand. He likes to bat off any and all feelings with a 5 foot pole. “I didn’t consent to observe this over the past.. .” He numbers off his fingers. “How long has it been? Four years?” Yamaguchi mutters something into the table. “Were you talking to the table or?” Tsukishima questions. “I said,'' Yamaguchi picks his head up so his chin rests on his folded arms “five years.” A moment of silence passes. “Five fucking years? Do you not realize that means you spent a whole third of your life simping over this girl. A third! Can you imagine what you could’ve done with all that emotional turmoil instead?” “Do you not think I ask myself that question everyday?” Yamaguchi snaps, as Tsukishima's eyes widen. Yamaguchi exhales. Calm down, Tadashi. He’s just trying to help. Yamguchi rubs his eyes trying to cast away the exhaustion creepy in. Whether it be physical or emotional, he couldn’t tell. “Look, i’m trying to work on it, ok?”

“Work on what?”

“I’m sorry!” She apologized. “ I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“It’s fine!” He breathed, clutching his chest and heaving. “I’m fine!”

“Tsukki here,” Yamaguchi starts, pointing a friendly thumb to the visibly annoyed Tsukishima “won’t stop teasing me about my English homework, and I was telling him to buzz off about it.” he gives a little chuckle and wonders if he’s visibly sweating. Y/n furrows her eyebrows, finding it hard to believe that he told anyone to buzz off at all, and even more hard to believe that he said that to Tsukishima, the salt king himself. She recalled a time where he offered to tutor her in the same subject he’s now struggling in when she fell behind after a few sick days, but she doesn’t press the matter and moves on with an awkward ‘Okaaaay?'' She turns to Tsukishima. “So Tsukishima!”- “No, I'm not gonna be your test subject. You could never pay me enough.” Tsukishima interrupts. “Damn.” she sighs. “Worth a shot!” Then Tsukishima does something so traitorous it may startle the very foundation of their extensive, and once unbreakable friendship.

“Ask Yamaguchi, he’d love to be your dress-up dolly for the night.”

Wait.

Does she not think I'm good enough?

Is it because of my freckles?

Say something, you freak!

So in a moment of immense self-pressure, he states, albeit a bit too loud (once again),

“I- I can do it!”

“What?” Y/n asks. “Um- I- Uh..” Yamaguchi gathers himself, clears his throat and sits up straight, almost regretting when he meets Y/n’s eyes. “I can help you with your makeup- as a m-model of course.” He specifies. Y/n’s eyes widen and he mouth hangs agape. “You really don’t have to!” she blurts. Yamaguchi’s heart sinks. Of course. Why would she me to model of all people. Theres as reason she hasn’t asked you, idiot. “Not because I wouldn’t want you to!” she corrects after seeing him deflate in his seat. “I- I just don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to! Thats- uh- that’s why I haven’t asked you before because you are always so nice and helpful! And I- I didn’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you didn’t want to for my sake!” she clarifies with her hand fiddling with the bottom of her uniform. “Then why do you ask me all the time?” Tsukishima chimes in. Y/n’s head and personality does a 180 as she whips her head to face him. “Beacause, you are an asshole and it’s fun to annoy you, duh.” She states like it’s obvious before she turns back to Yamaguchi. “I would love to have you as my model, if you would have me of course.” Yamaguchi gulps and nods his head, trying to ignore what other meanings ‘if you would have me’ could have out of context. Damn, Tsukki was right. I am whipped. “Yay!” she says with a little hand clap. “I’m so excited! Text me when you can come over! I’m free most days!” Wait. Shit. Shit, shit shit! Yamaguchi, in all his newfound confidence (and pressure from his best friend) forgot that he most likely would be modeling at a house. Probably hers and most likely alone. What the hell did I get myself into?

It makes him realize how long it has been since you really spent time together.

Has it really been that long?

How far has he really drifted from you?

“Earth to Yamaguchi?” Yamaguchi snaps his head to Y/n’s voice. Shit. How long has she been talking? “There you are!” she giggles. “Oh, i’m sorry!” he apologizes as he rubs the back of his neck. “ I just got distracted by…yknow,” he gestures to the ‘new’ redecortaed room. “All of this. It’s kind of hard to recognize without the big lion drawing on that wall.” he points. “It was a superhero!” she corrects as he chuckles. “I can’t tell you which one it was supposed to be though.” she admits meekly. “Now come on!’ she encourages as she plops down on her rug. “Sit right here.” she points to the spot right in front of her. “O-Okay.” he gulps and obeys, trying not to relish in the fact that he’s barely a foot away from his crush, in a house that’s empty but the two of them. “So, I was wondering if you had any restrictions before we start?” Y/n aks as she begins to lay out her products. “Restrictions?” he asks. “Y’know, things you really don’t feel comfortable with. Like I won’t give you clown makeup or anything!” she promises. “But I do have a more extravagant out-of-this-world idea when it comes to you.” Out of this world? Yamguchi questions. “Oh! And I want it to be a surprise! Not because of anything bad I just really wanna see you reaction to your final look! I understand if you aren’t comfortable with that of course!” her voice starts to speed up, much like his when he feels like his is rambling on and on. “I am really grateful for you being here and letting me do this and i certainly don’t-” “Hey.” Yamaguchi places his hand on hers, out of pure instinct, but draws it back after both pairs of eyes drifted down to them. “I- I really don’t mind either way! To be honest!” Yamaguchi reveals with a large, friendly grin as Y/n’s shoulders relax and a soft smile reaches her face. “Okay, got it!” She says cheerfully as she pulls out a few more products from her makeup bag.

“And Yamaguchi?” She turns to face him.

“Hmm?”

Her eyes meet his as she softly speaks.

“Thank you for being here. It really means a lot to me.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I..really miss you, y’know?”

His lips move on their own as he opens them to say “Y/n, i-”

She doesn’t like you like that! It’s very obvious, even an idiot like you should be able to see that!

She doesn’t even want you here! She’s just being polite!

She thinks you are HIDEOUS, remember? DISEASED!

Yamaguchi does what he can to combat the demons in his head and the subtle stinging in his eyes.

. “Is that why you wanted me to do your makeup? To cover your freckles?” He nods into his shoulders. “I-” she sighs. “I’m sorry, Yams. I can’t do that. It’s not right.” Yamaguchi quickly meets her eyes. “W-what? Why?” she shakes her head. “Your freckles are a part of you Yamaguchi. You’ve had them all your life and they are what makes you you. I’m not gonna hide them. I thought you told me you stopped worrying about your freckles in middle school.”

I did, for the most part. But it’s different when the love of your life basically calls you ugly.

He opens his mouth to say something, but bites his lip in shame.

She starts to put her makeup into her bag. “You can ask someone else, but I can’t do that. I just can’t.” Yamaguchi is being pulled every which way by his emotions .Confusion, anger, hurt, guilt. So much so he blurts out half baked words;

“Do you think I'm hideous and disgusting?”

Y/n whips her head around from the makeup she was placing away. “What?! No! Of course not! Where did you get that id-”

“I heard you!”

“I-in the hallway near the lockers. I wasn’t- I really wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I just wanted to say hi!” he looks away, at the floor, at the ceiling- at the abundance of plushies on her bed, anywhere but the disappointed face he expects to see “But you were talking to your friend about your freckles and how you try so hard to cover them and get rid of them and how they are disgusting, and shitty!” He’s facing her now but he can only focus on how much it hurts.The words piling and piling out, red hot from years and years of painful silence- stabbing him, branding him with the fear and self hatred he already harbored since he was young. “And you- you only have a handful of them while- while i have a freaking constellation on my face! And I-” he wipes his face, now aware of the outgoing tears. “I can’t get rid of them! No matter how many times I try to hide them, no matter how many times I try to pick them off they- they always return! And I can’t change that! No matter how many times I try! And I do try, so so fucking hard So if you- the most beautiful person thinks that they are ugly in any way shape or form, then what does that make me?!” The tears are blurring his vision now, blinding him from the horrified look on Y/n’s face, eyes wide with her own tears starting to simmer- but Yamaguchi can’t find himself to care. “I- just want to be-” he chokes as he gasps for air. “I just want to be enough for you!” he wails. “That’s all I ever wanted to be! And- and you are just so perfect in every way! How can i?” he sniffles and hiccups, calming down where he can only see her tear stricken face.

“How can I ever be enough for you?”

And suddenly, it was never about his freckles.

No, it was about a boy, a boy locked away in the tower of his own head, beaten black and blue by his demons wanting love- wanting to just be enough for someone. For anyone.

For her

For himself.

And he just opened the floodgates

What have I done?

What?

“I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“With me?”

She giggles as she lightly punches his arm. “Yes, you! Who else?” she confirms as he gulps. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. “But why? I’m not-” She makes a buzzer noise and shakes her head. “Yamaguchi, you are the nicest, most hardworking, most outgoing, amazing person I know. I’m lucky to have you in my life.” Yamaguchi feels his face heating up by the second. “You were the one always encouaging me to do my best with my art and supporting me even when I never though I could do it. You are the first one I want to come to when I have good or bad news and the first one I share my art pieces with. It’s you Yamaguchi.”Once again Yamaguchi feels the prickiling of tears in his eyes, but for a different reason this time. she chuckles and leans into an awkward laugh. “Wow, it feels so strange finally saying that out loud after all those years. I thought it was obvious after all the times I was caught staring at you in class, and all the times I suddenly became super clumsy around you. Hell, I was terrified of even being alone with you like this that’s why I never asked you to- Eh? No, please don’t cry!” she begs as Yamaguchi lets out a soft laugh. “I’m just so happy. I loved you for so long, Y/n.” he reveals as he wipes his eyes. Y/n gulps. “Shit.” she utters. “What?” he says alarmed. “This means Tsukishima’s right. We are two pining idiots.” she reveals as Yamaguchi throws back a laugh. “He gave you the talk too?” She groans. “Only like every other day! I’m surprised he never spilled to either of us. No wonder why he was always so annoyed.” she giggled. Y/n clears her throat, sits straight and pushes up her imaginary glasses. “I’ve watched you simp for way too long, any longer i’m going to demand compensation. 500 yen every time I see you staring at him, 1000 for every dreamy sigh and fluttering of the eyelashes and 1500 for every time you complain about ‘how it’s illegal to be that cute.” she mimic in her best Tsukishima voice. Yamaguchi cackles “No, no no,” he corrects between breaths of laughter. “It’s like..” he clears his throat as he preforms a slightly better Tsukishima impersonation. “All this endless pining has to be a kink or some shit- and I didn’t fucking consent.” Y/n clutches her sides in laughter as Yamaguchi makes sure he processes every second of this moment, one he’s deemed to replay time and time again. Just the two of them acting like fools again, just like they did before- but now without the fear of rejection and being vulnerable. Yamaguchi could never dream of something more beautiful.

She waves her hand in his face as he snaps back to reality. “Huh?” he questions as she laughs. “Yamaguchi, I swear you have the attention span of a goldfish.” she teases as she nudges him. “Yamaguchi.” he repeats slowly as she cocks her head. “Yes? That’s your name?” she states as he shakes his head. “That’s not what you called me earlier.” Her face tints red as a goofy grin takes over her face. “Okay, Tah-da-shi!” she gives his nose a little boop per syllable as the same red tint and goofy grin transfers to him. “What I was trying to ask before you went all space cadet on me was if Tsukishima actually said that.” she asks. “Hmm,” he hums as he taps his pointer finger on his chin. “Depends if the part about you staring at me and sighing dreamily was true.” he questions with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, suddenly confident. Her jaw drops as she stammers.

“Who- who allowed you to smirk like that?”

“Who allowed you to be all cute and flustered?”

“Stoppp!” she whines as she hides her face as he chuckles. “You know what!” she announces. “I did stare at you in class.” she admits as she pokes his chest. “You and all your cute freckles. I always tried counting them but always lost count or felt like a creep for staring. But-” she inches closer to his face. “I couldn’t help it, I've always been a sucker for pretty boys like you.” he gulps. “Y-you think i’m pretty?” he whispers as she hums in agreement. “Well you- you can count them now if- if you’d like.” he offers, hoping to all gods his voice didn’t crack like he thought it just did. “I’d love to.” she mumps and closes the distance and places a kiss on his cheek, and on one of his freckles.

“One.”

Another freckle

“Two.”

Another freckle

“Three.”

Another freckle

“Four-”

“Hey Tadashi?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you mean earlier? About the hallway?”

Shit. He forgot about that.

“Uh…” he bites his lip. “It doesn’t really matter, how about we just keep kissing, yeah?” he diverts as she stops him, placing her hand on his chest with a giggle. “Ah-ah-ah. None of that.” he pouts. “So.. what you are saying is you don’t wanna kiss me?” he retorts, biting his lip, holding in a giggle of his own. “I definitely did not say that, Yamaguchi.”

“Tadashi.” he corrects

“Tadashi.” she repeats, playfully rolling her eyes. “I’m serious. I wanna clear it all up right now so there's no more misunderstandings with us, okay?”

Yamaguchi sighs. “Fineeee. But please don’t make a big deal or laugh at me or anything, okay?” She frowns. “Why would I ever laugh at you?” He shrugs and takes a deep breath in.”I might have heard you in the hallway a few days ago talking about how much you hate your freckles and how you think they are shitty, and gross. You said you just use makeup to cover them so I thought you could do that for me? And when you said you wouldn’t it made me feel-” he stops as he sees her covering her mouth in what he only assumes could be an attempt to hold back her laughter. “You said you wouldn’t laugh!” he whines. “I'm not-” she starts, and attempts to act composed, but with little avail as laughter seeps through the cracks and she begins to howl in laughter as Yamaguchi crosses his arms. “I’m sorry- I really am!” she says between gasps of laughter. “But- but you think- you think these are freckles?” she questions, pointing to what Yamaguchi believes is a freckle on her face. He nods dumbly. “Yeah…what else would they be?” “Acne!” she exclaims. “Blackheads, to be exact! Dirt, grease, grime and sweat that crept into my pores and clogged them!”

“What.”

Y/n throws her head back in laughter. “So you were so worried over nothing! This,” she takes a deep breath in to regain composure. “This is why we don’t eavesdrop.” “I wasn’t trying to! I- I just wanted to say hi! I-It’s really not my fault you talk so loud!’ He pouts as he crosses his arms and looks away. “Tadashi, you are so cute. Worrying over what lil ole’ me thinks.” she pinches his cheeks. “I’m not-” he nudges her grabby hand off of him with his shoulder and sits up straight, trying to maintain the smidge of dignity he has left. “I’m not cute, first of all. Second, your ‘lil ole opinions’ mean a lot to me, if you didn’t get that earlier.” he reveals, blushing. “I wasn’t lying when I said that my freckles stopped bothering me in middle school. It's not easy to just forget and get over something I struggled with all my life.” he references to earlier. Hearing you say- or at least thinking I heard you say how much you hate them really hurt me, as much as I hate to admit. I know it’s pathetic-”

“It’s not.” she interrupts.

“Now that that’s settled, time to finish your look!” she cheers as she claps her hands.

“O-okay!”

Thump

‘it’s not a date! Just two people hanging out and doing makeup! Just friendly activities!” Yaaguchi whined as he closed his locker. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t give a fuck. But if you two don’tt walk into class together holding hands i’m having Shrimpy serve a spike on your fat, dumb head.” he promises and walks away as he hears Yamaguchi complain about not having a fat head and Hinata (who came out of nowhere- as per usual) get all mad about being called Shrimpy even though he was never directly mentioned.

Hmm. Maybe Tsukishima does have a headache. A Yamaguchi sized one.

THWACK

Oh? A mention from Yamaguchi? Isn’t he supposed to be with Y/n right now?

He clicks on it and it's the absolute last thing he’d ever expect to see.

They were stars.

A galaxy

A Constellation.

My Galaxy Boy

With sparkles following and preceding the words. He scoffs and shakes his head playfully. That's so y/n. The he scrolls down to see where Yamaguchi tagged him;

@Tskeishima Is my fat head safe?

He smirks as he types;

@sweetyamagashi For now.

Took yall long enough.

#yamaguchi x reader #haikyuu yamaguchi #Haikyuu x reader #yamaguchi x you

33 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

How about some barbarian bakugo noncon?

Prelude - One time I came home from a walk and smelled this scent so freaking thick that I could taste it, and I almost threw up cause it smelled like skinning a deer but like, ten times worse?? and I was like lol that’s kinda weird and it turns out the neighbor had caught a skunk in a catch-and-release trap (which we gave him cause we didn’t want him catching a skunk in a trap that’d kill it) and apparently decided to kill it right then and there, and just let it by the edge of his property, right by my car. That was fun.

Anyways, Katsuki makes a big deal about reader looking different in this. You can take that any way you’d like. Personally, I was feeling insecure about my freckles (I have so many that my skin almost looks even-toned because they almost all touch rip) and my hair color/odd face so I wrote him liking that reader looked different. It’s not super deep lol

Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader X slight Izuku Midoriya

Warnings - NSFW, dubcon, noncon, voyerisum, exhibistionism, blood mention lol. Idk groping?

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4FeWr4OsidcJClBjUEBHWI?si=OPHwLWXrTsiNQ42SlMKLEg

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There is a point where you stop screaming.

A point when you realize that no one is coming to save you, that you’re wasting your breath, that it’s fruitless. Does nothing more than raw your throat and grate against your own ears.

It’s no use. The Barbarian King seems unaffected, perhaps even spurred on by your ear-splitting screams. There’s no reason to scream anymore - it’d be impossible to scream forever.

——

Village in flames, corpses littering the streets. You’d heard about the stench of death from books, from traveling warriors who stop in your village for a night, regaling the people with tales of heroics and strength. It smelled quite different from what you had imagined though.

Metallic, yes, but tangy, thick enough for you to taste the iron seeping into the ground. Raw, like the scent of the butcher’s shop, heavy and suffocating - you hadn’t been able to breathe.

Everything had happened so fast, too fast. People were dead, people were dying, people were killing and being killed. You had been running, trying to escape the stifling aroma of your village being drained, the barbarians running amok through the streets leeching out it’s lifeblood.

Then you had been falling, tripped up by a loose limb on the ground, a body still warm and rattling with it’s last breaths. Shocked by the vivid image of the gore underneath you, a man reaching for his severed arm, you hadn’t been able to catch yourself as you fell, a cry leaving your lips.

Darkness.

And then light as you slowly blinked to awareness, slumped on the ground. A line of prisoners, prizes from the raid. You were one of them, hands bound to your neck, ankles tied to the people on either side of you. Two men had come by after a while, a green haired man in dress similar to your own - perhaps a captured man from the village?

The other man was bare chested, as many of the barbarians were, gold and red paint swirled across his skin in intricate, sharp patterns. He looked fearsome, and he barked at the green haired man accompanying him who scribbled furiously onto paper at each utterance of the fearsome blonde man.

They seemed to be going down the lengthy line of prisoners, assigning them? Selecting them for something? You didn’t know, couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were numb, sealed off from the horrific event you had just experienced, safe within your cocoon of forced apathy.

And then the two men were in front of you, the blonde man silent as he stared you down, the green haired man with his pen poised, though he studied you also.

But they quickly moved on, the barbarian barking something at his companion, before striding to the next prisoner.

You had been untied from your fellow captives, led through the barbarian camp. Red tents, warm fires and laughter filled the space, bare-chested warriors of both genders celebrating their recent victory.

The large red tent you had been led to was warm, a fire crackling in the deep pit in the center, silky furs softening the harshness of the ground. There was a table in front of the fire, a large basin filled with water nearby, close to the fire. A desk in the corner, near the tent flap, and a folding screen hiding the back of the tent from view.

Promptly tied to the leg of a table, you were left alone, the woman who had dragged you here leaving before you could ask what was happening.

Shortly, green hair popped through the tent flap, quickly followed by the rest of the man from earlier, the one dressed like your people.

“Izuku Midoriya!” He had introduced himself, giving a little flourish as he bowed, before being pushed aside as the fearsome blonde from before entered the tent.

Still tied to the leg of the table, numb to the world, you merely stared at the ground when the two men approached.

“What’s your name?” The green haired man - Izuku - asked.

He was met with a blank stare.

The blonde man growled at your lack of answer, spitting something in his native tongue, words you didn’t understand. Izuku seemed to shrink, before turning to address you again.

“Please tell us your name. Kacchan is not the most patient man.”

The fearsome man beside him bared his teeth towards you, and you shrank back. He did not seem the type of person who tolerated being left waiting.

“(Y/N)….” You whispered, eyes falling to the ground.

“(Y/N), ah! Such an interesting name, the first part means-“ Izuku was cut off from his ramble with a shove from the blond man - Kacchan - who crouched down in front of you, rolling your name around his tongue.

Turning, he spoke to Izuku in the same jumbled language, who listened, then addressed you as Kacchan turned back to study you again.

“Kacchan would like to know uhm, uuh.....” Izuku trailed off, uncertain eyes flickering between you and the blonde.

Kacchan scoffed, listening to Izuku’s hesitancy with disdain, saying something directed at the younger man, yet Kacchan’s eyes were fixed on you the entire time. It was intimidating.

“He uh, wants to know ifyou’reavirgin.”

Oh god.

Even though the man’s words were rushed, you understood, limbs beginning to shake. You were going to be violated.

A finger poking your calf made you jump, the blonde man leering at you, head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised as if to say “Well?”

You shook your head - lovers had existed in your life, not many, but you still cherished each one deeply, thought back on the experiences you shared fondly.

When relayed this information, the blonde man seemed to grin even wider, rising to his feet. “This will be easier then, no need to go slow.”

With a gasp, you lifted your gaze, wide eyes taking in the man hovering above you. His words were completely forgotten as you took in the shock of understanding his words. He spoke your tongue? Wasn’t he using an interpreter? Why-?

The confusion must be apparent on your face, because Kacchan scoffed, turning to stride to the table, taking a seat facing the fire.

“It pays to play dumb.”

“Loose lipped locals give information more freely when they assume that Kacchan can’t understand them.” Izuku beamed, crouching down in the Barbarian’s previous place to begin untying the rope binding your hands and feet to the table leg.

“Stand up for me please.”

You did as Izuku asked, shakily rising to your feet with a helping hand from Izuku on your arm. He began leading you towards the basin nearby, Kacchan watching the two of you with sharp eyes.

“Do you need help with the fastenings?” Giving Izuku a confused look, your eyes fell to the basin, to the fire, to Kacchan seated at the table. Were they going…. Were they going to boil you alive? Eat you?

Trembling even harder now, it was only Izuku’s surprisingly strong grip on your arm that kept you upright, knees giving out beneath you.

“Help her out, she’s damn near useless.” Kacchan’s strong voice cut through the air, the air that seemed too thick, the air that was choking you, throat closing up.

What does one even do in this situation? Do you beg for your life? Scream for help? Who would come? Accept your inevitable fate?

There was no time to make a decision, however, because Izuku’s nimble fingers were pulling at the fastening of your dress, quickly unlacing it.

You were numb again, fingers leaden, legs heavy, mind fuzzy and listless. Izuku peeled down the top of your dress, and you barely thought to cover yourself - you’d be dead in minutes anyways, what did it matter?

Still, your hands rose to your breasts, shielding them from view involuntarily. Kacchan snorted from his sweat, but said nothing.

When you were completely bare, an arm over your chest, a hand over your sex, Izuku ushered you towards the basin, prompting you to step into it.

This was it, you were going to die.

One last shot of fear raced up your spine, and you turned to the green haired man by your side, his hand falling away from the small of your back. “Please, please don’t kill me, I don’t know what I did but please spare my life. Please, I’m sorry.” Tears were burning your vision, throat choked up with thickness.

Kacchan burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna kill you, the fuck?! Goddamn, your people call us barbarians yet you’re afraid of a bath, fucking hypocrites.” There was a mirthful glint in his eyes when you looked at him, the man leaning back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he relaxed.

Izuku chuckled also, putting his hand on your lower back again, gently pushing you towards the basin. “You’ll be okay, it’s just some warm water. It’s close to the fire because we don’t want you to catch a chill. You know, the human body actually operates best when it’s within the temperatures of-“

“Deku, shut your trap before I come kick your ass, just get the girl into the water, you dumb fuck.”

The water was warm, and it felt pleasant against your skin, just on the right side of too warm, hot enough to have you relaxing your shoulders as you sank down lower, the liquid covering you up to your neck.

Izuku-Deku? Held your hair out of the way, quickly using a scoop to wet down the strands before rubbing some kind of herbal scrub through your scalp, cleaning out the dirt and debris that had gathered during the raid. You were certain you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and small scraps, half of your side crusted with dried blood and muck from falling in the bloody street.

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at your earlier panic, silly and like a stupid child, thinking that they were going to boil and eat you. It was clear now what their intent had been, but riddled with fear your thoughts had been clouded and slow.

Fear was still present, rolling through your brain in waves, goosebumps rising from your flesh as you tried to hypothesize what was going to happen to you. From their earlier questioning, you had a faint idea, but you couldn’t bear to think about that outcome, didn’t know if you could tolerate it.

Instead, you let the warm water soothe your body, washing away the grime and dust. Izuku’s hands were gentle in your hair, as he massaged your scalp, as he rinsed out the soap. You tried to ignore how his breath hitched whenever you shifted - you couldn’t keep all of your body covered, no matter how you positioned yourself.

His hands disappeared from your hair, instead prompting your to sit up straight so he could scrub at your body with a cloth smelling of the herbal soap.

It felt weird, and goosebumps arose on your skin as strange hands touched your body. You closed your eyes and endured, for there was nothing else that could be done.

Running would be a bad idea - a naked woman sprinting through the barbarian camp would surely be caught and violated, or brought back to this tent for some twisted punishment. And you could only run if you managed to get past the two men, who ere watching you like hawks, and much, much stronger than you.

Izuku’s hands paused briefly at your chest, eyes flickering over to the blonde man, who nodded in permission. Then Izuku’s hand were running the cloth across your breasts, washing them in gentle circular motions, taking care to not scrub too hard or push too deep.

You bit your tongue as you waited for it to be over.

And it was soon, at least that part. Then the green haired man was instructing you up on your knees, facing him. Telling you to grab onto his shoulder (the man was also kneeling) and spread your legs apart.

Trembling limbs obeyed, face flushing bright red as you followed his commands, eyes squeezing shut so you wouldn’t have to look at his own flushed face.

He ran the cloth down your back, over your ass, then slipped it between your legs to wash your sex with easy swipes of the cloth. The man’s breathing picked up subtly, and you could tell, leaning up against him as you were. His hands wandered, the cloth moving slower and slower upon your cunt, almost stroking at your folds, his fingers pressing through the cloth.

“Oi, Deku! Keep your shitty hands to yourself, you’re supposed to be washing her up, not feeling her up, shitbrain.” Kacchan barked, slamming his fist down against the table to get Izuku’s attention.

Both you and the man in front of you jumped, Izuku immediately blushing the deepest red you’d ever seen, flashing the blonde an apologetic look and you a nervous smile, before he seemed to gather himself, continuing to dutifully cleanse your nether regions.

It was awkward for the both of you, feeling his hands run over your private areas, over your sex, through your ass cheeks. But then he was down, rinsing you off with scoops of warm water before fetching a large towel, ushering you out of the basin, holding out the towel to wrap around your body when you stepped out.

Then you were ushered closer to the fire, sat upon a small stool as you huddled close to the warmth, clutching the towel tightly around you. The air was quite warmer than outside, but was still cold to your wet skin.

Izuku began running his fingers through your hair, parting knots, patting sections dry with a corner of the towel. By the time he was finished, you felt warm again, face rosy from the heat of the fire.

The heat felt pleasant, like the feeling of a full belly after a long day.

You were tired, exhausted from the emotional weight you had endured. Village burned, tripping over corpses and disembodied limbs, taken captive, forced away from your fellow villagers. Stripped down and fondled - at this point, you just wanted to sleep.

To sleep and sleep, wake up and have this all be a bad dream. Some twisted nightmare your mind conjured up while in the warmth and safety of your own home.

A large hand upon your shoulder roused you from your half-asleep state, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the tent. You jumped, turning to find Kacchan towering over you and Izuku both.

Kacchan crouched, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hair, then onto your cheek. “You look so fuckin’ weird.”

Izuku sputtered. “Oh my god, what he means to say, is that we’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… quite unique, and very um, attractive.”

You leaned away from the hand on your cheek, and Kacchan let you, red eyes blinking slowly as they scanned your features. He was an odd man, as was Izuku. There was an obvious dynamic of power, Izuku submitting to Kacchan willingly.

“Alright, you’re dry enough, get up.” You blinked at Kacchan, processing his words, before he huffed out a breath, rising to his own feet. “C’mon, let’s go, are you stupid? Get the fuck up.”

You scrambled to your feet, towel still wrapped tightly around your body, preserving your modesty.

Kacchan’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you along with him as he strode towards the back of the tent, towards the sectioned screen acting as a wall.

“Deku, make your ass useful and dump out the bathwater, will ya?”

You weren’t able to see Izuku move due to the hand forcing your head forward, but you could hear his footsteps as he hurried to do what Kacchan instructed.

Rounding the screen, it was clear to see that this was where the Barbarian King slept, a pile of cozy-looking furs strewn in a pile on the ground.

You were promptly shoved towards them, stumbling down to your knees as you lost your balance. The furs provided cushion though, soft and inviting.

But you were scared again.

It was happening, it was going to happen, you were going to raped by the King.

Turning back towards the man, you began to plead, hands securing the towel around your shoulders like a safety blanket. “Sir, please, don’t do this, why me? You can have anyone, not me, please not me.”

He ignored you in favor of beginning to strip, unfastening his cloak, removing his weapons. You decided to try and appeal using a more personal approach.

“Kacchan-“

Suddenly the man was in your face, his own visage twisted into a growl.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that. Stupid ass Deku made that shit up when we were kids, I’m not some brat anymore. I’m Katsuki-“ He backed away from you, leaving you trembling. “-Barbarian King.”

The man resumed removing his clothes, dropping his belt to the ground, grumbling as he began to undo his pants. “Should beat his fuckin’ ass for calling me that, so goddamn disrespectful. Fuck him, stupid little ass wipe twerp-“

You tuned him out, frozen. What could you do? Another impasse where your options were none.

A strong hand gripped your shoulder, or more accurately, your towel, tugging it forcefully away from you.

“No!” You cried, trying to pull it back, to cover yourself, but the man was stronger, ripping it away before you could utter another word.

“No! Stop, please!” You tried again, finally taking in Kacc-Katsuki before you. He was naked now, aside from the paint decorating his skin. His cock was quickly hardening, plumping up with each step he took towards you as you scrambled backwards.

“Katsuk-Katsuki, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Please just have someone else!” You sobbed, back finally meeting the wall of the tent.

Katsuki smirked, crouching down just out of your reach. “You’ll do anything? You’ll let my horde use you as a toy then?”

Dread flowed through your already fear-filled body, and you gulped thickly, eyes closing.

“No?”

Shaking your head, you started to cry silently, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re already doing fucking anything.” Katsuki growled, hand shooting out to grab your ankle, dragging you down and towards him.

A high-pitched cry left you as he pulled you under him, until he was hovering over you, grinning. “Cry all you want, ain’t gonna change a damn thing. In fact-“ He surged down, until his forehead touched your own, red eyes blazing “-It just turns me on more.”

The man pulled away, a hand falling heavily around your throat, giving a compulsory squeeze before hie started moving his hand downwards, fingers skimming across your flesh.

Immediately, your own hands caught his own, trying to still their journey as they neared your breasts. Katsuki paused, a sound akin to a growl falling from his throat as his eyes flickered away from your body and up to your own eyes.

There was a threat there, a warning. Let him touch, or else. Trembling, you removed your hands, instead grabbing at the furs you rested upon. Katsuki made a gruff sound of approval, before resuming his exploration of your body.

“You’re like nothing I’vs ever seen before, know that? Like some fuckin’ alien or something, but damn, you’re gorgeous. Didn’t even know someone could look like this.” He mused, entranced as he watched his hands splay over your body, pinching at your skin, caressing your breasts, slipping over your stomach and down between your legs.

“Oh god, pleaseee-“ You sobbed out, cringing as a finger trailed down your slit.

Katsuki stilled, quirking a brow as he smiled meanly. “Please what? You wanna cum?”

“Please stop…” You whispered, eyes clenching shut again as he found your clit, giving it a few quick rubs.

The man scoffed, before quickly teasing one of his fingers into your tight hole. “Tough shit, I’ve never had whatever the fuck you are, I ain’t stopping”

His finger burned, dry and too large, and you struggled to keep from clenching down upon it in discomfort, trying to force out the intrusion. This would go easier if you relaxed, if you let him have his way. You knew that, rationally, but it was hard to make you body obey.

Katsuki prepped you quickly, fingering you open until he deemed you ready, withdrawing his fingers and crudely wiping them off upon your thigh. You twitched away at the wetness, at your own slick being cleaned off on your skin, but Katsuki ignored you.

“Why do you look like this anyway? What the fuck happened?” Katsuki asked coarsely, shuffling off of your thighs, moving to lounge by your side, studying you.

The man seemed to be taking a break, more interested in your looks than fucking you, but you were glad for the reprieve, trying to wipe tears from your face as you struggled to think of a response.

“I-I don’t know?” You finally spoke, genuinely at a loss for how to explain your appearance.

Katsuki studied you with sharp eyes, a hand reaching down to his cock, beginning to absent-mildly pump himself while he looked you over.

“I’ve traveled through every shitty little village in the north, met with the damn piss-baby tribes of the east, I’ve ransacked the towns of spoiled nobles, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”

You sat up, subtly shuffling away from the Barbarian King while you shrugged, at a loss.

Your appearance wasn’t anything superiorly unusual, but apparently it piqued Katsuki’s interest. Yes, your skin was perhaps a bit different, but it’s not like you were inhuman.

Katuski seemed to get tired of talking though, settling further back into the furs, getting himself comfortable as he jerked himself off. You refused to look between his legs.

“Alright, whatever. Get up here.”

Pausing, you looked at him incredulously. Did he mean on his lap? His chest? You didn’t want to be anywhere near him - wouldn’t he find more pleasure with someone who was willing?

“Are you fucking deaf? C’mon, up.” He growled, patting his thigh, urging you over.

A gulp before you started moving, limbs heavy and hesitant, unwilling as you slowly crawled forward, towards the intimidating, impatient blonde.

You straddled his thighs unsteadily, swinging your leg over, trying to avoid touching his cock.

Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you caught sight of it, the red tip, the precum making his length shine, the wrinkly, darker skin of his balls, his blond pubes.

You cringed, distaste evident upon your face, and you heard Katsuki chuckle darkly before his hands grabbed your hips, dragging you forward.

“What, don’t fucking like what you see? Am I not to your taste? I’ve fucked whorebag princesses less fussy than you. Get over yourself.” He spat, before taking a hand off your hip, reaching underneath you to line himself up as his other hand kept you lifted.

You trembled in his hold, twitching and swaying to the side, but this was unavoidable.

A gasp left your lips as he entered you, tip slipping through your folds, teasing into your wet hole, stretching you out.

Katsuki let out a groan, slowly dropping you down until he could remove his hand from his cock, returning it to your hip, guiding you to push further down. You felt disgusting, his cock sliding against your velvety insides, dirtying your walls with leaking precum.

When your sit bones rested against his upper thighs, his cock resting fully inside you, it felt impossible to breathe, your chest rising to draw in air but failing, the distress you felt upon being speared open seemingly too much for your body to handle.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. You got a dirty little cunt, don’t you? Feels fucking amazing.” Katsuki groaned, moving his hips minutely, relishing the grip your inside had on his cock, how warm you were around him.

“Ride me, will you? I’m getting bored down here.” He snapped after a moment, delivering a harsh slap to your rear to emphasize his words, spurring you into tentative action.

Problem is, you didn’t want to.

Your palms rested against his heated chest, eyes raising to the ceiling as your cheeks burned. This was embarrassing, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be an active participant in your violation. What would that make you?

“Oi, princess - I don’t got all night.“ Katsuki growled, landing a significantly more-jarring hit to rear, hard enough to make you squeak and jump, hips twitching at the sensation of his cock moving around your pussy at the movement.

Afraid of more forceful repercussions, you started to move, slowly sliding up, then down, creeping along, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy the man.

It wasn’t.

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before tightening his hold on your hips, planting his feet in the furs, then plunging into you with force. The sudden movement jostled you, and you fell forward with a cry, head bouncing onto Katsuki’s chest by your hands, the man groaning as he found a satisfactory rhythm.

“There we go, that’s fuckin’ nice.”

You cried into his chest, hands clutched into fists as you were bounced up and down, the led slap of skin too loud and jarring in the tent. The paint on Katsuki’s body was beginning to smear, sweat dampening his skin and letting the paint drip onto the ground, transfer to your own skin.

It was starting to feel good, make your stomach tighten, limbs tremble with pleasure instead of fear, and you hated it.

Slick sounds reached your ears, out of rhythm with Katsuki’s quick prods. It was wet, pulsing, as if someone-

Gasping breaths reached your ears, not from the man grunting beneath you.

Another round of cold fear dampened your arousal as you honed in on the sound, realizing it was coming from the other side of the screen.

Someone was on the other side of the screen, listening in to the Barbarian King taking you against your will.

A stuttered cry left you when Katsuki pushed too hard, hitting your sweet spot, making you clench and shudder, forgetting about the other person for a second.

But they were so loud, little gasps and moans, and the shlick, shlick, shlick, was getting faster and faster, it was impossible to ignore.

Should you try to tell Katsuki? Would he stop? Would he be mad? It was so disturbing, knowing someone was sitting on the other side of the screen, jerking themselves off so obviously .

“Katsuki-Katsuki wait, oh-“ You started, quickly cut off by a series of battering thrusts against your sweet spot.

But you had to try again. “Wait, sto-o-op, wa-unh, unh, Katsuki pl-mmh!”

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care.” The man snapped, out of breath.

“But there’s-oh…. Katsuki there’s someo-“

“I don’t /fucking care/.” Katsuki reiterated, gritting his teeth. He shut you up with another perfectly placed push against your sweet spot, and a cruel spank against your already-stinging ass.

“Ow!” You yelped, clenching up. It was clear now, that Katsuki was aware of the listener, he just didn’t mind. Maybe he got off on it, knowing someone was listening to him take apart his latest conquest.

Clenching up was the wrong response, because the Barbarian King swore, before his hips sped up, bouncing you so violently on his lap that you found it hard to breath, barely able to hang on for the ride.

“Oh…. (Y/N)….” The voice behind the screen moaned lowly, almost whispering.

It was Izuku.

You shivered, at the sound, feeling creeped out with the knowledge that the gentle, timid “interpreter” was listening. He must have returned at some point from dumping out the basin. You were feeling revolted by this entire situation, disgusted with Katsuki, Izuku, and most importantly with yourself.

Pleasure was building quickly in your stomach, zapping up into your chest, making you tingle and shake with the sensations assaulting your body.

“Sit back, fucking sit back-“ Katsuki panted, pushing at one of your shoulders to push you up, so he could see you as he fucked up into you, watch your body move, your face contorting in pleasure.

You felt like you couldn’t help it, your eyes closing, mouth falling open to let out girlish, high-pitched moans.

Your breasts were being jostled, jiggling up and down with the movement of your body, and it hurt. Hands moved to hold them, stopping their bouncing, but Katsuki appreciated the view apparently, because he groaned, pushing his head back while still trying to watch you.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Keep touching yourself princess, keep moaning like a little slut. Let Deku know how fucking good I’m making you feel.”

Your body didn’t give you a choice, noises being pushed from your throat involuntarily as Katsuki pounded into you, red eyes trained on your frame, intense and unwavering.

An orgasm ripped through you, seemingly out of nowhere despite the steady buildup of it the past few minutes. You gasped, breathing catching in your throat, hips furiously grinding down against Katsuki’s as you rode it out, trying to stimulate your clit to intensify the feeling.

The noises leaving you were perverted; wet gasps, little squeaks and long moans as you fucked yourself onto Katsuki’s cock, previous hesitance forgotten in preference of chasing your pleasure.

Katsuki swore underneath you again, rabbiting his hips up into you in response, breathing raggedly as he neared his own release.

You were so lost in feeling the sensations in your own body, you didn’t register the stuttered groans on the other side of the screen, the speedy clicking of Izuku jerking himself through his own orgasm, the almost-silent spatter of his cum hitting the screen.

Katsuki swore once more, a vehement “Shit, shit!” before he pulled out quickly, orgasm apparently catching him by surprise, the first few warm strings of cum shooting into your warm cunt, adding to the wet mess of your own orgasm.

The rest was aimed onto the puffy lips of your slit, one of Katsuki’s hands leaving your hips to pump his cock as he gasped, hips twitching upward at the sudden temperature change from your burning heat to the air of the tent.

Then there was just the sound of three people breathing heavily, completely spent, sweaty and dirtied from sex.

Katsuki pulled you down onto his chest, chuckling breathlessly as he brought his clean hand to your head, ruffling your hair tiredly.

“Well, you’re a goddamn catch, pussy’s like a fuckin’ vice.” The crude comment made your cheeks color, but as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t find the energy to offer a rebuttal.

“I think you’re gonna stick around for a while.” Katsuki mused, and you felt your heart drop. “Yeah, you’re a keeper. Maybe if fuckface over there-“ The blond slapped at the screen “-can stop being a pervert, we could actually fuck without feeling creeped out.” He growled, although the blonde didn’t sound irritated in the least.

A small “Sorry Kacchan” was whispered from the other side of the screen, and Katsuki laughed dryly.

“Tell you what bastard, maybe I’ll let you touch her a bit.” Katsuki said, a hand creeping down to knead at your ass. “Then you don’t have to act like a little freak. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you fuck her if you do good translating those maps we found. Got it, you little shitnugget?”

“Mm, alright Kacchan.” Came the tired response.

You were barely awake, already drifting off on Katsuki’s warm chest, too preoccupied with the red and gold paint no doubt smearing against your cheek than with the conversation going on around you.

You could panic about that later.

#fun skunk story #srsly the air was so thicc #it made my eyes water and my stomach cramp #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #barbarian #barbarian katsuki #barbarian bakugou #tw dubcon #tw noncon #dark bakugou #kidnapping #captive #blood #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere

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jslittlebirdie · 3 years ago

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A Lazy Morning

Pairing: Soft!Ledger!Joker x Reader

Summary: Much to your delight, you wake up next to J in the morning. But suddenly your insecurities about your body and appearance make you doubt. J doesn't like that at all, so he tries to make you feel better.

Word count: 1,198

Genre: fluffy comfort / self-insert

Warnings: body insecurities; innuendo at the end of the fic, but nothing explicit

Notes: I started writing this piece a long time ago, but never finished it until now. So it's probably pretty bad. Also, I feel veeeery insecure about my softer characterization of J 😶😶 But maybe someone will like it anyway😅 As always, English is not my first language, so I apologize for any possible mistakes.

You blinked a few times to get used to the brightness of the room and yawned. You could clearly feel the warmth radiating off the man lying next to you. And this certainty that J was still with you made your heart beat faster. Because it was not unusual for him to leave the apartment in the middle of the night to go about his business, as he called it. Or even to stay away for several days, in which case you only heard from him when you turned on the TV and watched the news. You hated it so much!

But this morning was different. He must have been really tired and exhausted that he had decided to stay in bed with you. Everything was quiet around you, except for the gentle murmur of the rain and your calm and steady breathing. Even the loud howling of the engines of the cars racing through the urban canyons could barely be heard. At moments like these, you wished time would just stand still.

You rolled onto your side and immediately lost yourself in a pair of mesmerizing dark brown eyes. J was already awake and you wondered how long he had been staring at you like this.

You looked at him and his beautiful features. His tangled greasy hair framed his face like a curtain, the green gradually fading to reveal a dark blond. He was still wearing his makeup, the colors smeared into each other. You could see his skin where the grease paint had rubbed off onto the bedding. You would have to change the sheets later in the day, but right now you didn't care. You only had eyes for the little freckles on his nose that he always hid so carefully with the white paint. What you wouldn't give to kiss every single one of them. You sighed dreamily. J seemed to be relaxed and calm, a sight you unfortunately got to see far too rarely. You knew about the switchblade under his pillow and the gun on the nightstand, but the very fact that when J was with you he let his guard down to the point that he could relax around you and even sleep without having to be on high alert all the time, filled your entire being with endless love. It was truly one of the greatest proofs of trust and love you could ever get from him.

"Good morning, beautiful," he finally broke the silence in your small cozy bedroom. His voice was raspy from sleep, but the playful yet honest undertone was still clear. A sly smile was tugging at his lips.

You snorted in disbelief, never feeling particularly comfortable in your own skin. Especially in the morning, when your hair was wildly sticking out in all directions, your pajamas were out of place and you hadn't freshened up yet. What was it that J saw in you that he thought was pretty? Why did he stay with you?

Of course, J noticed how the demons in your head were eating away at you. But he said nothing. Actions spoke louder than words. So he put his arms around you like a vice and pulled you close against his warm bare chest. Driven by your doubts and insecurities, you immediately tried to squirm out of his grip. Even though it was exactly what you wanted and longed for. To be held by him. To be loved by him. And J didn't like that at all. Not. One. Bit.

"J, please don't-"

"No, no, no! Don't. Move."

His words left no room for you to retort. Just like there was no escape from his tight embrace. He looked deep into your eyes, searching for any signs that you wanted him to stop. Because unlike your words, the expression of your eyes could never lie to him. But all he could see in them was your intense longing for him.

So J began to carefully run his hands along your sides, gently rubbing and kneading your tense muscles. You immediately stiffened at his touch and sucked in air sharply through clenched teeth, so incredibly insecure and downright ashamed did you feel. When J noticed, he shushed you, muttering sweet nothings that you could barely hear but understand. His hands were all over your body, except for the parts he knew you were particularly sensitive to. And that's when you finally started to feel better. To remember. His closeness and soothing voice calmed you down. The longer he touched you, the closer he pulled you to him, the more relaxed you became. You trusted him. You felt safe and protected with him. You didn't have to pretend and hide from him. But sometimes it was just incredibly hard for you not to forget that. Goosebumps spread where skin met skin. Even though a last small part of your mind - your inner demons - still resisted, you could no longer suppress your soft sighs and moans.

J stopped and licked the scar that was parting his lower lip. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he grinned smugly at your reaction. "That's what I want to hear! There she is, my pretty girl."

You frowned at his remark and opened your mouth to say something back. But he didn't give you the time. Your protest died instantly when he took your face in his hands and his lips touched yours. It was a kiss that took your breath away. A wild and passionate kiss that made teeth clash and his scars rub against your soft cheeks. A sensation that drove you out of your mind. But it was also a kiss so full of unspoken words that didn't have to be said out loud for you to understand. Once you learned to read his love language and pay attention to all the subtle hints, it was hard not to pick up on it. You knew exactly what he was trying to tell you.

You let go of him, gasping for air. "I... love you too. You know that, right?"

He hummed as you reached out for him to stroke his smudged up cheek. Then you dropped down onto your back and pointed to the window against wich the raindrops were gently pattering.

"Does this mean you're staying home today?" Even for you, this was a feeble attempt to persuade him to stay. You knew your clown didn't care about the weather. To spread chaos, it didn't matter if it was raining or the sun was shining. Still, it was worth a try. Because you wanted nothing more than for J to stay with you a little longer.

You watched him, waiting for his answer, and of course he rolled his eyes. But then he straightened up and moved on top of your smaller form, propping himself up on his elbows so his weight wasn't completely on you. He tilted his head down towards you until his lips almost touched the sensitive spot right below your ear. His warm breath washed over your skin and sent a pleasant shiver down your spine as he whispered:

"How could I possibly refuse you, hmm?"

#my writing #ledger!joker #ledger joker #ledger!joker fanfic #ledger joker x reader #ledger!joker x reader #tdk joker #joker fanfiction #fanfiction #tdk #J #fluff #comfort

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lovely-jily · 3 years ago

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potions and locked closets

hey!! sorry this is such a long fic BUT i just wanted to say that i’m also working on this same fic but from lily’s pov lmk if you’d want that:))) thanks and i love you all so freakin much <3

James tried to steady his breathing. His heart was already beating too quickly for his liking, and he hadn't even seen her yet. He was already surprised that she agreed to be his partner; they both know that it would likely be another hour of pointless bickering but nonetheless. Lily Evans had agreed to partner with James for their weekly project Slughorn had assigned. She finally said yes to something.

"Fine," she had said after he asked her, following it up with, "But I'll undoubtedly need help with Transfiguration this week, so if you swear to help me, then I suppose we can partner."

In all honesty, James wasn't having too much trouble with his Elixer to Induce Euphoria, but he just wanted an excuse for Lily to be with him. And maybe if she saw that he had matured at least a little bit, it would make her start to tolerate him.

If that were even possible.

The dungeons were decently empty, but Lily had intentionally reserved the potions room in advance so no one else would be around. Meaning they would be completely and totally alone.

When he walked into the room, she was fiddling with the size of the fire under the cauldron. She was at the desk she usually sat in, the second row to the left, with her back to him.

"Evening Evans," He said, setting his bag on the table and standing next to her, "I see you've started already."

"Well, I actually want a good score on this," She exhaled through her mouth and flipped through her Potions book, her dainty fingers lingering on the words "Elixer to Induce Euphoria".

"I'm right there with you," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He watched Lily's eyes dart from his arms back to her textbook. From what James could see, she already gathered the ingredients and had them neatly organised in front of them.

"Alright, you can start by skinning these then?" She said, swiftly handing him the Shrivelfigs.

"Got it," he noted the way her eyes darted up to his for a second when she was handing him the Shrivelfigs, their skin touching momentarily. While it was only a second, it was long enough to cause James to hitch his breath in an all too noticeable way.

He started skinning the flower, trying to ignore the way her perfume smelled or the curve of her jaw. She tied her hair up in a low ponytail, pulling out tiny wispy hairs that framed her face. He chastised himself for the dirty thoughts that followed, but, Jesus, he couldn't help his want to do the most unholy things to her when she did that.

She started working on porcupine quills as he attempted to pull himself together.

"I wish we got Amortentia."

James took a sharp inhale, resulting in him coughing on his own spit. She, Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans who insisted she hated every fibre of his being every day since they were twelve, wanted to make a love potion with him- James! James Potter! As in the same James Potter that she would shoot daggers at any excuse, the boy she would scold any second she could, the boy-

"It's just so much more of a challenge compared to this one," she finished.

Right. Of course. That's why Lily wanted to make that potion, no other reason, as much as James wanted there to be.

"At least we didn't get Felix Felicis. That takes a while," He ignored the feeling of his heart sinking and his stomach twisting as he finished up the Shrivelfigs. He should've known that was the reason, but he couldn't help but innocently jump to conclusions with her.

"What did Amortentia smell like for you?" She asked, causing James to start jumping to conclusions again.

How do I answer this honestly without giving away the fact that I smelled her?"

"Fresh bread, rain, and- uh- my mother's shampoo," He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his mother, but it was the quickest thing he could think of on the spot, "What about you?"

She sighed, stirring in the quills, "The ocean, my mum's hot chocolate and a cologne of some kind, but I couldn't place where that one was from."

A pang of jealousy beat along with James's heart as he thought about her smelling another lads cologne. Whoever he was, he was a prick.

She shook her head quickly as she seemed to panic for a moment, hastily saying, "Anyways, I'm sure it doesn't matter."

She fiddled with the ladle, brushing the few hairs out of her face. Her cheeks were bright red.

"You alright there, Evans?" He asked as he turned to look at her. He swallowed what felt like all his dignity and pride but was actually just the extra spit that always was around with Lily.

"Just fine," She cleared her throat and handed him the Sopophorous beans, not looking at him, "Would love it if you could start working on these, though."

"Got it," he mumbled as he started dicing the beans.

"No, Potter," His heart lightened a little at the sound of his name in her voice, even if it was to chastise him, "Those are far too small. They'll dissolve too quickly."

"What do you mean, this is how Slughorn does it-"

"Slughorn always cuts things too small, but he makes up for it by moving a little quicker-"

"Well, that's stupid. What kind of a teacher-"

"James," She looked up at him, sighing, and despite her exhausted expression, his lungs lifted immensely at the sound of his first name. She never used his first name.

"Yes, Evans?"

"Could you perhaps go find more in the Potions closet? I think it'll just make things a lot easier."

"Got it."

The closet was cluttered, full of misplaced ingredients from students whose first priority clearly wasn't organisation. After a solid minute of staring at the mess, he called her in to help him.

"What do you mean 'Can't find them'- I just saw them," she huffed, shoving herself next to him in the tight space. James would be lying if he said he didn't do this on purpose but let the boy live. He would take any excuse to be in close proximity to the girl.

"Not sure how anyone could find anything in here. I feel bad for the poor bloke who has to clean this during detention," He said, hands on his hips as she stood in front of him, green eyes scanning the shelves. The closet door closed behind her, and while they weren't any closer than they were by the desks, it almost felt like she was right on top of him. It was taking his total concentration to not think about shoving her against the door and having a long-awaited snog.

"It'll probably be Sirius," she said, glancing at him, a smirk on her face.

He chuckled as he looked at the messy shelves, suddenly shy from her eye contact, "Probably. Maybe we should leave him a note."

They faced each other, her back towards the door and his towards the shelves of messy ingredients. There was just enough room between them for her to fold her arms against her chest, her smile making James's lungs feel extra airy, "Or we can charm the Wolfsbane to fall off every time he tries to put it away."

James laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his heart was beating so hard he was worried she could feel it.

"You know, for such a stickler for rules, you're quite creative with pranks."

She smirked, "I've learned that you can get away with a lot more if you aren't so obnoxious about it."

James let out a fake, dramatised gasp, "You?! A Prefect breaking rules?"

She just shrugged, a smirk still painted on her face. James took a second to look at her, feeling fortunate that not only was he was in the potions closet with her, but she had chosen to carry a conversation with him. This friendly banter was still a little rare, even though they had been getting a little closer lately. Since the incident at the end of fifth year, roughly nine months ago, James decided to get his act together. Mainly for the sake of Lily, but also the threat of war was becoming more than just rumours, and he knew that a war was no place for an immature bully like himself. He was not a person that he- or really anyone- was proud of, and he wasn't okay with that.

James was about to say something when her eyes lit up at something behind his head.

"There it is!" She said and reached her arm out to grab something just next to his ear.

Under normal circumstances, James would've been disappointed that she found it because it probably meant that his time in a closet with her, the girl he's wanted to shag since he had first laid eyes on her, was now over.

However, when Lily reached forward to grab whatever they were looking for (James had since forgotten. Other things had occupied his mind the past couple of minutes), she had subconsciously pressed her body up against his. In a panic, James put his hands on her waist. They both looked at each other with panicked eyes when they realised what was going on, faces close enough that James felt her heavy exhale as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to his lips as he was suddenly aware of how naked they felt without hers on them. He instinctively bit them.

James cleared his throat and politely turned his head away from her, trying to reduce the awkwardness.

"Er-Um-Sorry," He said, taking his hands off her waist and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lily's hand was still grasping the beans behind him, and she was staring at him, seemingly debating something. Feeling shy and awkward as she studied his face, James was staring at her left earlobe, noticing the freckle resting next to her small pearl earring.

"Don't worry about it," She mindlessly whispered, still looking intently at him. She seemed to be deep in thought and was not thinking about the words she was saying.

James was just surprised she wasn't showing any signs of being uncomfortable. He would've guessed that she would be yelling at him by now.

"So-uh- I guess we should get-" James cleared his throat as he reached for the door handle behind her. He was nervous under Lily's stare and was having a hard time keeping composure. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and that honestly bothered him more than if she was yelling at him. At least he knew how she felt then, but he was entirely in the dark right now, "We should get going. The potion's probably been simmering for too long."

Lily blinked and shook her head as if leaving a deep trance. Suddenly embarrassed and blushing, she nodded her head and cleared her throat.

"Right," She said as James tried the door handle.

It didn't move.

He tried it again.

Nothing.

"Well, shit," James said, trying to jiggle the door handle again with both hands despite knowing it wouldn't work. She probably thought he did this on purpose (Which wouldn't be a terribly bad idea if James wasn't so afraid of her), "It's locked."

Lily's eyes widened in a panic, and she promptly turned around, trying the door handle for herself. When it inevitably didn't work, she turned back around and sighed as she leaned against the door, looking up. She groaned and brushed the hair out of her face.

"I forgot that Slughorn keeps it locked," She said, still huffing, "Normally, it doesn't matter because he just keeps it open, but..."

James felt his pockets for his wand and remembered he left it on the desk, "You haven't got your wand, do you?"

Lily looked down as she felt her own pockets, looking back up as she shook her head.

It was then, at the sight of a dishevelled Lily Evans, that James realised that he was locked in a closet with her, and he had a hard time remembering why this was such a bad thing. He tried to shove out the thoughts that entered at the way she looked dishevelled and breathing heavily. The things he would do to be the one making her look like that...

"Sorry, Evans. I feel partially responsible for this predicament," He shook his head, trying to regain self-control. What was he thinking? This was Lily Evans he was thinking about. The girl who never failed to let him know just how much she wanted to strangle him at any given moment.

She said nothing, instead resumed studying his face. He sheepishly messed up his hair, unsure what to do with his body under her gaze.

"Oh, Christ, James," She said in annoyance, biting her lip softly.

"What did I do? I didn't know about the lock!" James said defensively, finding it odd that she was just now getting mad at him.

She rolled her eyes and just looked at him.

"Fuck it," She said, and before James could form a confused expression, her hands were pulling his neck forward, and her lips were being slammed against his.

"What the fuck?" James said, shock widening his eyes as he pulled away slightly. He clearly was baffled beyond logical thinking and reason because Lily would be shoved up against the door if he were thinking clearly. There was no way that Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans that swore she wouldn't ever go out with him not even nine months ago, had just kissed him. Passionately, at that.

"Are you complaining?" She asked, a soft smirk resting on the lips that James was just kissing.

"What-No? Of course not, I just-"

"Then shut up," She whispered, feeling her way from his neck to his tie, which she pulled him forward with so their faces were close again, "And give me a good snog."

"Yes, ma'am," James smirked and tilted his head, pushing her against the door and kissing her firmly without a second thought.

#jily #jily fic #james and lily #james potter and lily evans #james potter supremacy #james and lily potter #lily and james #lily evans and james potter

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Eunoia - Harry Styles

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!

pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.

Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.

He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.

It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.

As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.

By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.

Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.

As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.

She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.

Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.

An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.

“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.

Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.

“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.

“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.

“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.

That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.

“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.

“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.

“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.

“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.

“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.

“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.

“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.

“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”

“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.

“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.

“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.

“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”

Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.

Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.

“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”

Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.

“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.

“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.

“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”

“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.

“That’s not needed at all.”

They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.

“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.

“Of course.”

“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”

“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.

“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”

“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”

Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.

Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.

“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.

“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.

“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”

She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.

“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.

He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.

When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.

“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”

Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.

Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.

Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.

As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.

A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.

“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.

“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.

“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”

“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.

“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.

“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.

“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.

“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.

Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.

It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.

“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.

“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”

“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”

“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.

“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”

“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.

“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“The Aztecs?”

“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.

“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.

“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”

“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.

“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.

“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.

“Like what?”

“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”

“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”

Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.

“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.

“I don’t.”

“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”

“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.

“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.

They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.

Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.

His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.

Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.

“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.

“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.

“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.

“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.

“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.

Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.

He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.

As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.

“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.

“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”

“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.

“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.

“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.

Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.

“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!

She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.

“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.

“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.

“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.

“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.

“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.

“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”

“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.

Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.

“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.

“I just… love how you said when and not if.”

“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”

“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”

“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”

“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.

“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.

Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.

This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.

Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.

He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.

Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.

The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.

Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.

“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.

“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.

“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”

The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.

“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.

“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.

“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”

“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”

“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.

“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.

“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”

“You said you have some tests to go through.”

“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”

“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.

“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.

“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.

“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.

“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.

“Yes, Lilian?”

“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.

“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”

The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.

“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.

“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.

Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.

“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.

“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.

Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.

“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.

“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”

“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.

“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.

“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.

“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.

They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.

When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.

He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.

As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.

“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.

“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.

The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.

Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.

“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.

“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”

“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”

“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.

“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”

“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.

“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.

“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.

“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.

“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.

“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”

“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”

“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.

“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.

“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.

“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.

“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.

“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.

“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?

“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.

“I just asked,” he mutters.

“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.

So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.

“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.

“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

Text

a little unconventional (part one)

[foster au]

this is set in America because i don't know how Romania works

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

rapture rising

“Alcina, my beloved sister, are you sure all of this is necessary?”

Alcina shot a glare over her shoulder at her toddling younger brother, who she was making carry in several boxes full of various items into one of the many rooms in her mansion. This one wasn’t one of the bedrooms, but rather a temporary storage room for all the things she had recently bought. She was going to have everything set up for the children to choose from when they eventually arrived. Just thinking about them getting to pick out their bedsheets and paint for their new rooms made a smile come to her lips, excitement rushing through her like dozens of butterflies flying for the first time.

…And then her idiot brother bumped into the doorframe and caused an avalanche of boxes to come down on top of him.

“Be careful!” Alcina barked, whirling around to him. She bent down to start picking the boxes up. “You’re lucky there was nothing fragile in here.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Heisenberg grunted, rubbing his head.

“And to answer your questions, dearest brother, yes, this is all very necessary,” Alcina said. “I need this to be perfect for them. This may be the first time those little girls get a real home.”

“Inflating your ego, aren’t you?”

Alcina stepped on his foot.

“I have the paints.” Moreau, Alcina’s other brother, shuffled inside, holding several cans of paint on his arms. If they were hurting him, he didn’t say anything. He seemed pleased with himself for being so useful.

“Thank you, Sal,” Alcina said. She took the cans from him and placed them against the wall. “Yellow, green, red, blue, pink, purple… Do you think that’s enough? What if they want, like, a mauve room?”

“Mauve?” Heisenberg echoed as he was crow hopping on one foot, still recovering from being stomped on.

“It’s a shade of purple,” Moreau supplied.

“I know what mauve is, asshole,” Heisenberg hissed. “I was just saying.”

“And I’m just saying, what if they want a lighter-colored room?” Alcina said. “This purple is dark. Should I go buy more?”

“You could mix white into the paint?” Moreau suggested.

Alcina thought it over, then nodded. “Yes, I could do that. Good idea.”

“Who wants a mauve bedroom, anyway?” Heisenberg muttered.

“Alcina!” A fourth voice echoed throughout the house, and Alcina’s sister entered the room. Donna looked uncharacteristically bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She was clutching something in her hands. “Alcina, I have finished them!”

“When did you get here?” Heisenberg looked at her.

“Just now,” Donna said. “It doesn’t matter. Look!”

A beautiful doll was presented to Alcina. It was hand-stitched and dressed with great care. All the little details, down to the freckles and shiny eyes, were incredibly-made, and Alcina couldn’t help but pick it up tentatively, as though she were afraid of accidentally destroying it.

“Oh, Donna,” she said. “It’s beautiful! Thank you.”

Donna beamed. “I have also made stuffed animals and toy clothes for them. An entire wardrobe, in fact. Many selections.”

“Damn,” Heisenberg looked impressed. “Toys dress better than I do.”

“We know,” the other three said in sync, eyeing his ratty trenchcoat and old cowboy hat that he insisted on wearing everywhere.

“You weren’t supposed to agree!” Heisenberg barked like one of his dogs.

“Shouldn’t have said anything,” Alcina shrugged daintily. She looked back at Donna and smiled. “Thank you, Donna. I really appreciate your support. I appreciate all of your support. Even yours, Karl.”

“Sure, sure…” Heisenberg said, though Alcina didn’t miss the glint of fondness in his eyes.

“This is so exciting,” Donna said. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, Alcina. Do you remember when we were all adopted by Mother?”

Heisenberg snorted. “I remember being kidnapped as a child and held for ransom, and then being one of the abduction victims to be actually found alive, only to discover that my parents had been killed while trying to get me back, to which I was then thrown into a home with you three.”

Donna winced. “Not…quite what I had in mind.”

“And you say ‘you three’ like we weren’t your best friends growing up,” Moreau pointed out idly, not looking at Heisenberg as he was helping unload some of the boxes. That one in particular held a wide selection of different bed sheets, ranging from leopard print to floral to plain blue.

Heisenberg raised his nose and huffed. “Well. Still.”

Alcina shook her head with a warm smile.

She vividly remembered life with her adoptive mother, Miranda, and her three other siblings. She was reborn from ash and flame after her old family estate burned down to the ground, smoldering the life she used to have and taking her parents with it. Yes, she could still smell the smoke, taste the embers on her tongue, even now, thirty-five years later. She was so small back then, only nine years old when the fire started, and she watched her home crumble to pieces right before her teary eyes. She thought it was over, that she had nothing, that she was going to be alone forever without her mother and father, but then a woman in a black cowl whisked her up into tender arms and took her under her wing as though she were the chicken to a nurturing mother bird.

She was the first of Miranda’s ragtag rascal children with harsh upbringings. For two years, it was just the both of them, reading books and watching movies in a beautiful countryside manor that quickly became her new home. Though the wounds had still been raw, the burns were very fresh, Miranda filled the void in her heart that her parents’ death left behind, extinguishing that eternal fire of survivor guilt and mourning.

And then the others came along.

At the time, Alcina had been rather indignant at the idea of having siblings. She was an only child with her birth family and she preferred to stay an only child with her new one, too, but she never voiced this opinion to Miranda. She grinned and bore it, even if it meant losing the attention of her mother.

Though, they didn’t end up being that bad…

The first of the “intruders” as she used to call them was Salvatore Moreau, a boy her age, though three months younger, and with a story similar to her own. He had been in a car crash after his drunken father got into a pretty nasty collision. The engine caught fire and it wasn’t long until the rest of the car followed. Moreau was trapped in the inferno, but managed to get out, running towards a nearby lake to extinguish the flames that were trying to make him its newest pyre. Unfortunately, the event left him badly burned, the scar still lingering all these years later, and nobody wanted to take in such a “disfigured child.” Miranda, however, stepped up to the challenge and fostered the boy, eventually adopting him fully later on.

Alcina was, admittedly, rather uneased by her new brother’s appearance at first, but she quickly got accustomed to him, even protective. There were several moments in school where she verbally (and sometimes even physically) pummeled any kids who dared to make fun of him, drilling into the bullies that he was not to be messed with while she was around. Some of her best retributions were when she threatened to leak unwarranted dick pics to the entire school, as it wasn’t uncommon for horny teenage boys to try to get into her pants, and that always shut them up quickly, especially when she loudly proclaimed details on their pathetic excuse for a penis, like the size and shape.

She and Moreau grew close rather quickly, much quicker than Miranda had been expecting. They both enjoyed more mellow things, like reading books and going on walks through the forest. Moreau was the sole reason she passed any English assignments done on Shakespearean literature, as he actually knew how to discern the confusing text, while she had to reread the same page over and over again to simply get a loose grasp on the grammar. He enjoyed cheesy romcoms, birdwatching, and swimming, the last of which he had a strong affinity for because of how the lake beside the car wreck very well could have been the only reason he survived. Now, he owned that very lake and made it into a popular fishing and boating destination for locals and tourists alike.

The second to arrive was Donna Beneviento, when Alcina and Moreau were both twelve. She was a full five years younger than the two of them and didn’t talk very often, at least for a good chunk of the first year she was there. She was put into the foster program after her parents commit suicide, leaving her with nothing but anxiety, trauma-induced selective muteness, and a doll named Angie.

It took time, but Donna eventually started opening up. First to Miranda, and then to Alcina and Moreau. Alcina strongly remembered a time when her little sister came to her room during a thunderstorm, lips quivering, tears glistening in her eyes, Angie clutched in a vice from her thin arms. She didn’t say anything, just stared from the doorway, whimpering and shivering.

“Alright,” Alcina had sighed. She flipped open her comforter, welcoming Donna. “Come on.”

Donna had brightened and skittered into the bed, snuggling right up against Alcina’s side. Alcina didn’t mind and resumed the book she had been reading before--Animal Farm, she believed. Donna pointed at the pages and then looked up at her curiously.

“Oh, this?” Alcina had said. “It’s called Animal Farm. It’s about these talking farm animals overthrowing their farmer to gain freedom, only to then be ruled by a communist pig.”

Donna blinked. “What’s a communist?”

“Well, you see…”

Her late-night explanation was certainly aided by the fact that they were in the middle of the Cold War at the time.

Overtime, Donna slowly grew out of her shell. Though she was still soft-spoken and reserved, she was also very kind-hearted and incredibly creative, which she showed through paintings, arts and crafts, and doll making. She would make dolls out of anything she could find--wood, thread, clay--so it made sense when she eventually became a toymaker once she grew up.

Finally, there was Karl Heisenberg when Alcina and Moreau were thirteen and Donna was eight. Right from the start, he was a loud, spitfire ten-year-old that broke the serene silence that used to hang over Miranda’s estate. He caused a great amount of mischief and mayhem, though Alcina would later discover it was to hide the fact that he was deeply traumatized by what exactly had happened to make him a foster child.

Even now, so many years later, Alcina still didn’t know the full story. Miranda said it wasn’t her tale to share and Heisenberg simply didn’t like talking about it very much. But from what she did know, Heisenberg used to belong to an incredibly wealthy business owner that ruled over their company with an iron fist. Due to the harshness his parents inflicted on their employees, it caused the workers to revolt against the abuse. A certain group took this way too far and kidnapped Heisenberg, holding him for ransom so they could get better treatment and pay at their work. Something ended up happening during the time between Heisenberg being held hostage and his parents paying up, and it left his mother and father in a way that he could never bring himself to explain. She only got snippets of the brutality of their deaths through brief moments when he would come to after vicious nightmares, one of which she actually stepped in to stop when she heard him struggling one night.

“Their heads, Alci,” Heisenberg had gasped, clawing manically for a desperate grasp on her arms, his body jerking and spasming in terror as his nightmare was still releasing his small, twelve-year-old body. “Their heads-- their brains were--” And then he stopped and keeled into her chest, sobbing in a way Alcina had never seen him do before in the two years he was living with her before that moment. Despite her occasional vex towards the boy, he was still her little brother and she was still his big sister, so she had wrapped her arms around him and held him close while he trembled and cried.

She never did find out what Heisenberg meant by “their heads,” but she had a hunch. Still, she never asked.

Nowadays, Heisenberg ran his own factory, where he treated his employees the way his parents should have treated theirs, learning from their mistakes. He also fostered all different kinds of dog breeds until they found their forever homes and rescued the more ‘vicious’ ones, like pit bulls and rottweilers, all of which he treated like royalty.

A freakishly tall girl, a burned boy, a selective mute, and a dog lover… They certainly weren’t the epitome of the stereotypical nuclear family, but they were family through and through, if not by blood, then by bloodshed.

“Do you guys remember the time Karl tried to clean the dishwasher with Kool-Aid?” Donna reminisced with a giggle.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Heisenberg said.

“Absolutely not,” Donna grinned at him.

“I still don’t know how you came to the conclusion that that would work,” Alcina shook her head.

Heisenberg threw his arms up into the air. “John said it did!”

“John also tried to steal a school urinal.”

“Also, you’re supposed to take all of the dishes out before you try to clean it with Kool-Aid,” Moreau spoke up. “You left all of the pots and plates and silverware in it.”

“And he didn’t even put it in the right spot!” Alcina joined, cackling. “You’re supposed to put the powder in the detergent dispenser. Karl, you just poured it out all over the dishes!”

“It wasn’t even the right powder,” Donna put in. “You’re supposed to strictly use unsweetened lemonade only. You used tropical punch!”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all burst into laughter, while Heisenberg crossed his arms and glared at them.

“John never specified any of that!” he blustered.

“Never trust John, dear,” Alcina tittered.

“Well, it happened!” Heisenberg said. “It’s over! What other boxes do you need to move!”

More laughter.

“I’m serious! I’ll get the boxes! Also WHAT IS THAT.”

They all turned to see a patchy tortoiseshell cat lazily strolling into the room with them. It looked like it had been run over, dismembered, run over again, and then put back together by a blind surgeon, but it held itself like it was the most pristine lion to ever walk the earth. It glanced over at the four siblings, meowed at them, then continued on its stroll to one of the empty boxes, which it jumped into and made itself comfortable inside.

“It’s a cat,” Donna said as if it should have been obvious, earning a snort from Moreau and then a glare from Heisenberg.

“It’s not funny,” Moreau said quickly after Heisenberg glared at him, too, but it was obvious Heisenberg’s leer was all in good fun.

“No, no. Tom from Tom and Jerry is a cat,” Heisenberg said. “THAT is an overgrown street rat.”

“Well, one could assume the same about you, but you don’t see us pointing it out,” Donna said breezily.

Another bout of laughter, this time with Heisenberg included.

“Okay, okay, you got me there,” Heisenberg said.

“Must you insist on reacting the same way every single time you see Tea Cake?” Alcina finally spoke up through the playful bickering. She crouched down next to the cat and stroked its back, which caused it to purr in content.

“It’s my trademark,” Heisenberg said with a shrug. “That old woman is still alive?”

“And kicking,” Alcina smiled fondly at her pet.

Tea Cake had been with her for a long fourteen years, witnessing more than a few existential crises and drunken concerts put on to chase off her lurking PTSD. That cat came during the worst part of her life, and Alcina owed everything to that little beast. She learned how to laugh and smile and genuinely feel again, not hide behind the facade that she was a strong, powerful woman who could take on everything and come out without a scratch.

And, yes, Alcina had known- still knew, that she had Miranda and her siblings, but sometimes they were not enough, not back then, not when she was filled with so much shame and self-hatred and disgust. Animals were different in a way people couldn’t be. Animals didn’t lie, they didn’t judge or think about how messed up you were in their heads. They didn’t share your secrets or give you false hope. They just--be there. They listened and lent their presence and, sometimes, that was all that was needed, and some people didn’t seem to understand that.

Tea Cake’s fur had dried more of Alcina’s tears than anyone else ever had because she never let them fall in front of others. Tea Cake didn’t get upset when Alcina touched her; she didn’t understand the concept of emotional trauma and sexual harassment and body image issues. She just cared, even if she didn’t quite get it.

Alcina would probably be dead if it weren’t for her.

Yes, she remembered that fateful night… The wind in her shaggy hair she hadn’t washed in days, the moonglow on her ashen skin, the tears burning in her eyes--all of it was so clear, even now. She remembered how horribly, hopelessly depressed she had been and how she drove out to a field with a note on the dashboard and a gun in the passenger seat.

At the time, nothing had helped her. Her antidepressants weren’t working, going out only made her feel unsafe, and her family’s presence no longer brought her comfort and happiness, rather guilt and shame. The only thing that ever helped was when she drowned herself in the alcohol she made for a living, drinking away her despair and trauma until her body tingled and the phantom hands went away. She was surprised her liver never exploded inside of her during those awful few months.

She had sat in her car for a while, leaning her head on the steering wheel and wallowing in silence and darkness. Then, she got out, made sure the note was visible, and grabbed the gun.

She considered calling or texting her mother and siblings, but that would make it hurt worse. It was better to leave them with their last memories of her than to have this sudden news of a goodbye that they wouldn’t be able to stop.

She placed the pistol’s barrel in her mouth and rested her finger on the trigger. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes like some movies or books say it did, and she was quite thankful for it. She didn’t want to relive the agony she had been put through that led her up to that point. She just shut her eyes as tight as possible in preparation for the bullet to pass through her brain…

Then, there was a rustling from the grass nearby.

Alcina hesitated. The metallic taste of the gun left her tongue and she looked in the direction of the noise.

“Hello?” she had called out in her best possible not-about-to-kill-herself voice.

A tiny meow answered her.

“Your roadkill wants you,” Heisenberg’s voice cut through the daze that had momentarily descended upon Alcina’s mind.

Blinking, Alcina realized that Tea Cake was gnawing on her finger and meowing. She smiled.

“It’s probably dinner time,” Alcina said. She stood up straight. “Come on, children. I have news to share.”

Curious, her three younger siblings followed her out of the room and to her kitchen, Tea Cake padding after them eagerly. Her house was a beautiful creation of the finest wood and the most luxurious stonework. Top-of-the-line appliances filled the space and every little detail, down to the hanging droplets on the chandelier and the grooves in the staircase railing, were customized to her preference. 6 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, 17,182 square feet, 14.99 acres filled by lush vineyards, and $5,500,000 later, and you had the Dimitrescu Estate.

And it was a barren prison.

It had always been there, ever since she moved in: that lingering loneliness that seemed to shroud every hallway. She had so much space, but nobody to fill it. Nobody except herself, Tea Cake, and her maids, of course. Lying awake one night, thinking about this issue as she often did, a solution had finally come to her.

After pouring some wet food into Tea Cake’s food bowl, Alcina grabbed a bottle of sweet butter wine out of her wine fridge and poured a glass for herself and each of her siblings, all of which were staring at her curiously. After taking a long sip, she finally began: “As you all know, I have plans to foster a child. And I greatly appreciate all of the support you three have provided me up until now.”

“Is this an award ceremony or something?” Heisenberg joked light-heartedly. “Can I have the award for most boxes carried? I think I deserve that one.”

“You mean most boxes dropped?” Donna giggled, earning her a playful poke in the side.

“No, it is not an award ceremony,” Alcina glared at Heisenberg without any fire in her gaze. She opened up a drawer in the stainless kitchen island they were gathered around. “Though, this may very well be an award…” She pulled out a blue folder packed full of papers and set it on the marble countertop, grinning brightly. “I just wanted to let you all know first that my training is done. I’ve completed all the classes.” Her heart swelled in her heart as she spoke her next words: “I’m a foster mom now.”

All at once, her younger siblings lit up brighter than the sun’s supernova, throwing their arms up into the air and letting out a celebratory shout. Donna and Moreau even raced around the island to hug Alcina, which she returned with a laugh.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, Alcina!” Donna said, squeezing her with surprising strength. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Me too,” Moreau agreed.

“Sal, are you crying?”

“No!” Moreau yelped, then sniffled. “I just have something in my eye, that’s all.”

“You mean tears?” Heisenberg teased. He then looked at Alcina. “That’s amazing, Alcina. I’m really happy for you. You deserve this.”

“Aww,” Alcina crooned. “Is my little brother going soft?”

Heisenberg instantly steeled himself. “Me? No way! I was just saying what you would want to hear.”

Still being embraced on either side by her other brother and sister, Alcina chuckled. “I see.”

“Do you know your placement yet?” Donna asked, looking up at Alcina as though she were a child again.

“Placements,” Alcina corrected. She couldn’t help but grin again as she spoke of her future children. “Two. I’m getting two little girls.”

“Aww!” Donna and Moreau both cooed.

Heisenberg was nodding. “Girls. Yes. I can do girls.” He looked up at Alcina. “I’m getting them a puppy.”

“Oh, you don’t have--”

“I’m getting them a puppy,” Heisenberg said again, and it was clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Alcina chuckled. “Alright. A puppy it is.”

Donna and Moreau began to join in on plans for being the greatest aunt and uncle, with Moreau saying that they needed to come to his lake for a swim and Donna listing off all the toys she would make for them. Alcina listened to them with a fond smile, happy to have such a supportive family. This was exactly what her daughters were going to need.

Daughters.

Just thinking about that word made her heart flutter in her chest. Her grin turned giddy. She was going to be a mother soon.

As she sipped from her wine glass, she thought about her placements. She had gotten the call four days ago and was scheduled to meet the little ones in the next two weeks. She could still hear her caseworker’s words in her ears during the conversation as she recalled it to her siblings.

“The first is named Daniela,” Duke had said. He was a studious, patient man with a warm smile and hands like chipmunk paws, keen on helping Alcina ever since she started her training to become a foster parent six months ago. “She’s a little girl and eleven years old. Her parents have, unfortunately, recently died due to a car crash. Her living relatives are unfit to take care of her, so she’s been placed into the foster system. Right now, she’s staying with her aunt and uncle, but she cannot be kept there much longer because of, ah…jealousy issues with their actual child.

The second is named Cassandra. Another girl, this one twelve years old. She’s been in the foster program ever since she was a baby when she was given up, as she was born from a teenager who couldn’t take care of her. She’s had…quite a few foster homes, all of which had given her up to someone else due to…issues. I understand if you don’t want to take this child. She’s been known to cause problems in her houses and pick fights. There is-- woo, that’s a lot of complaints… There are some notes on her left by her former families and-- Goddamn. They’re writing of her like she’s a monster or something…”

“Of course, I couldn’t turn down either of them,” Alcina concluded her retelling. “Especially the second one. Cassandra. The poor thing sounds like she needs a good home.”

“You’re so sweet, Alci,” Donna said, smiling at her.

“Think you can handle it?” Heisenberg asked. “I’m not doubting your abilities, but from what you said about the kid… Well, she just sounds difficult.”

“You were difficult,” Alcina said, grinning at him. “And everything turned out just fine, didn’t it?”

Her youngest brother’s concern didn’t diminish. “Yes, but… I don’t want anything to happen to you or my niece.”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all cooed. Heisenberg huffed.

“Oh, shut it! I have a heart!”

“You do,” Alcina’s smile lightened slightly. “But don’t worry: everything will be okay. I can do this. I need to do this. Those two little girls need a mother.”

Heisenberg considered her for a moment, then nodded. He smiled at her. “You’ve got a good heart, Alcina,” he said. “If you ever need any help, I’m here.”

“Me too!” Donna joined in.

“Me three!” Moreau piped up.

Alcina laughed. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot to me. Now…” She raised her glass. “Let’s drink before we have to cut back because there will be children around!”

Her siblings laughed and mimicked her gesture.

Alcina couldn’t wait.

#foster au #resident evil au #resident evil fanfic #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #dimitrescu daughters #a little unconventional

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vibraniumwing · 4 years ago

Text

my heart belongs to you.

a neville longbottom x reader wherein despite of everyone wanting the reader, the reader’s heart only belongs to a certain gryffindor.

WARNING: long fic (really), slow burn, mentions of blood (nothing too bad) but aside from that, nothing else.

A/N: okay so this is an anon request and i honestly just got carried away in writing this. this is so adorable and akdfnksjf okay nonnie i hope you like this. also, this is the first long fic i’ll be posting so aaaa yay for me i guess ?? anyways here, let me shower you with neville fluff. also do you like the banner ?? its kinda bad i know, but i made it uwu

word count: 5.6k

---

The Sorting Ceremony is always exciting for any person who shall start their journey in any Magical school, but if you were a 15 year old in the middle of small 11 year olds, it was hard to say that you could feel the excitement due to the shyness that took over you; sticking out like a sore thumb wasn’t exactly all that pleasing.

As you reached the front of the Great Hall alongside the tiny children, almost all the boys had their eyes on you, instantly swooning at how elegant you carried yourself; causing half the girls inside the room to roll their eyes at how many men were already having heart-eyes at you.

You didn’t have a clue what the other students were thinking but it made you shift uncomfortably, feeling everyone’s eyes at you and how the whispers seemingly all arrow down at you.

“I wonder who’s that,” Ron whispered to Harry, motioning to the front, his eyes trained on you, “Seems like she’s in our year.” the ginger continued, lifting his head to get a better view of you.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!” You were called by Mcgonagall, motioning you to sit as the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, the pounding that your heart had is ringing through your ears; the anxiousness settling in as the hat made its judgement, “GRYFFINDOR!” it exclaimed, causing the long table of students who had red adoring their robes to cheer quite loudly.

Slowly getting up, you made your way to the long table where a few cheers and greetings came across your way from the students. Your eyes were frantic in searching for an empty spot at the table, spotting one to next to a boy with round glasses.

You walked over to the available seat, hesitantly motioning if the spot was taken by anyone, to which the brunette replied with, “I-It’s not taken.” as he barely spared you a glance. Quietly thanking him, you sat down; it was an awkward encounter, no doubt, but you couldn’t blame him You were as timid as he is when it comes to meeting new people.

“Seriously Harry- Alright let me switch places with you.” The girl next to him said, motioning the two of them to swap places which the other happily complied with. She then turned to face you with a warm smile, “I’m Hermione Granger” She introduced herself, offering her hand which you gratefully accepted and shook.

“I know you’ve heard already but I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). I studied in Ilvermorny for the first four years before moving back here because of my dad’s work,” You properly introduce yourself, now settling down on the bench as the food popped up from the table, making you jump lightly. “Pleasure to meet you, Hermione.”

She smiled once more, “The pleasure’s mine.” her words calming the nerves that had been bugging you since the start of the night. As the two of you turned to silence, you took this moment to finally munch on some snacks.

The two males next to her nudged her from behind, making the girl look at them with a serious face, discussing something in a hushed tone before turning back to you, “So (Y/N), these two are my friends” Her words making you look at her with a small smile.

“I’m Ron Weasley.” The ginger introduced, giving you a single nod which you returned.

The one with round glasses then spoke up, “I’m Harry, Harry Potter” as he mirrored the smile you had.

You looked at the both of him with a happy expression, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

The night then rolled on normally—with the exception of Umbridge’s interruption of Dumbledore’s speech— and you soon found yourself walking up the moving staircase with the trio. Usually, it was hard for you to converse with anyone at first meet but something about these three just made you blend in so well.

That’s when you knew you would fit right in.

---

The next day soon came and you were skipping your way down to the Common Room to go head for breakfast when a tiny firework that burst in front of your face made you stop in your tracks. The quiet little pop it made resonated throughout the room of what seems to be rather sleepy first years who were also waiting on their friends.

“Oh sorry about that!” A rather tall ginger approached you, giving you a sheepish grin as he rubbed the nape of his neck. Your eyes observed how he shared the freckle-littered skin Ron has and how he sported the same fiery orange your friend has. ‘Must be his brother’ You thought, shrugging lightly as you sat down by the table. “No harm done, Weasley.”

The surprised look on his face was dead give away that your guess was correct, “How’d you know I was a Weasley?” he questioned, grabbing the seat next to you as he squinted his eyes, “Are you a Legilimens?”

His question made you laugh, shaking your head the thought he had, “Sadly, I’m not. The freckles and the hair were pretty solid evidence that you are— not to mention, the reaction you had when I called you by your last name.” You explained, the shit-eating grin never leaving your lips as his face contorted into one of amazement.

He was about to open his mouth when someone who looked exactly like him popped up from behind him, “Freddie, getting along already with the new girl?” making ‘Freddie’ look at him with a smirk similar to yours, nodding. “Well I was about to, George.”

“You two are twins?” You suddenly asked, making the two of them stop in their conversation to look at you; the realization of how stupid your question was made you visibly cringe, your nose scrunching up as you shook your head, “Okay wait, let me rephrase that queston— who’s who?”

The two chuckled lightly, the one standing leaning against the backrest of the chair as the other one leaned forward on the table. “Try to guess who is who” they both replied at the same time, confused even more.

“Oh stop it you two” Another ginger spoke up, making you look at her in surprise. You took note of how she had the same features the twins and Ron had, thinking that maybe she was their sibling as well. She was with Hermione who was looking at you rather curiously.

“Sister dearest, we were only asking if she could tell who is who” the one standing answered, giving you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes playfully at the way he was so laid-back with his actions.

“Just so you know, I don’t even know your proper names. I only heard you say Georgie and Freddie.” You retorted, standing up and walking over to the two girls who were already giving them smirks.

The girl from earlier spoke up as you joined them, “I’m Ginny, by the way. Theirs and Ron’s youngest sister.” She introduced herself, giving you a warm smile to which you mirrored, offering your hand, “I’m (Y/N)”

“The one standing is George and that one on the chair is Fred.” Ginny explained, pointing at the twins who were playfully scowling at the girl for giving away their identity so easily.

You turned back to look at them, “Pleasure to meet the both of you” You say, bowing playfully before looking back at Ginny and Hermione who were quietly snickering, “Right, shall we go get breakfast now?”

---

The rest of the day flew by rather quickly, you’ve enjoyed all your classes except your Defense Against the Dark Arts (for obvious reasons) but that didn’t really affect your day.

You were now lounging around the Common Room with Ginny, watching how Fred and George were selling their products to first years, laughing at the effects of the treats they were giving them. “Your brothers are natural businessmen, Ginny.” you commented, sitting back down on the seat comfortably.

Ginny shrugged lightly as a proud expression painted over her face, “They’ve got a knack for trouble that’s for sure, but their inventions are no doubt the best.” She said, getting comfortable on the floor as she leaned back into the seat that you were in.

Your eyes roamed the room and you saw a brunette quietly tending to his Mimbulus Mimbletonia alone, you didn’t know what it was but he immediately piqued your interest as you remembered him to be the one to speak up after Harry and Seamus’ feud the night before, making you tap Ginny’s shoulder, “Who’s that?” as you motioned to the male.

Ginny looked over to where you pointed at, “Oh that’s Neville Longbottom” she replied, looking at you curiously, “What’s up with him?”

You shook your head, eyes never leaving his peaceful expression while caring for his plant, “He does quite well in taking care of his plant. It just intrigued me, that’s all.” you lied, shrugging as you tore your gaze from him to look back at Ginny.

She nodded, “I’m guessing you have a thing for plants as well. You’d get along with him, he’s invested in Herbology.” Ginny shared, munching on the muffin she had sneaked out from the kitchens and looked back at you. “He’s very shy at first but he’s no harm.”

You hummed softly, pretending to look back on the book that was resting on your lap as your eyes glanced at him from time to time, biting down on your lip in an attempt to stop the smile that the butterflies in your stomach are starting to give you.

“Oh just go over there and stop being a wuss and go talk to him, I’m sure he’ll like you.” Ginny nudged, head secretly pointing at the male with a devilish smile on her lips.

Knowing that devious smile of hers meant trouble, you gave in and stood up, glancing down at her with a ‘if this fails i will jinx you’ look before making your way towards the quiet Gryffindor. You were always nervous when approaching people for the first time, but nothing could compare to how you were feeling right now.

“That’s a Mimbulus Mimbletonia, right? Those are very rare.” You spoke up as you reached the table, giving Neville a small smile as he looked at you with a surprised expression. “My mom only saw that once back at my aunt’s place in America, the nasty little thing spurted out this sap that smelled so rancid.” You shared, laughing softly at the memory.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way” You introduced yourself, giving him a warm smile as you grabbed the vacant chair and sat across him, playfully peering through the magical plant.

“I’m Neville, Neville Longbottom” he introduced himself, carefully moving the plant to the side to get a better view of you. His cheeks were flared at the realization that the girl everyone was talking about was talking to him, let alone be the first to approach. “Y-You seem like you know a lot about magical plants.” He continued, placing the tweezers he was using on the table, putting his attention on you.

“My mom’s a Herbologist so I’ve started young, honestly” You told him, looking at the plant before looking back at him with a grin, “Where on earth did you get this plant in the first place?”

His eyes glanced at the plant before looking back at you with a proud expression, “This was a gift to me” making your lips form a small ‘o’ in amazement.

“Actually, did you know that…”

The conversation that soon followed was so natural and fun that you didn’t even notice the Common Room slowly being emptied out, until Neville brought it up. “Oh, we’re the only ones left” he said, making you look around to see that indeed, the two of you were left.

“Oh we should head back to our dorms then” You told him, standing up from your seat and gave him a smile, walking towards the stairs and turning around to look at him, “See you tomorrow, Nev”

This made the male turn around and sported a toothy grin, “See you, (Y/N).”

---

“Okay fifth-years, today we are learning about the Chinese Chomping Cabbage and how to re-pot them.” Professor Sprout’s voice echoed through the Greenhouse, making all of you look at the teacher, peering over to see the plant chomping on a carrot. You’ve encountered this plant numerous times due to your mother’s side-job of growing these to brew Skele-Gros.

You leaned to your side to whisper to Neville about your experience with the said magical plant, but when you turned around, Neville was pushed to the far back and was placed with an unfamiliar face, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Uh, not to be rude or anything but who are you exactly?” you questioned the boy, upset that your friend had been kicked to the back of him and his side goons.

A confident smirk washed over his lips and stood proudly, “I’m Callum Williams, a Ravenclaw.” the young boy introduced, making you smile at him with disinterest, turning back to listen to Professor Sprout who was already showing everyone how to carefully re-pot the biting creature without getting hurt or breaking anything.

“Alright now, carefully-” Her voice was drowned out with the same boy whispering in your ear, “These are Chinese Chomping Cabbages. Saw a few of them myself back in the summer.” Callum shared, making you look back at him with an irritated expression, nodding and turning back to listen to the teacher in front.

“Now, do it yourselves” Was Professor Sprout's last instruction, giving everyone the leeway to do their own thing in replacing the biting vegetable. Your eyes looked back at Neville who was already readying the next pot for the plant, looking up to meet your gaze and shoot you a grin, making you shoot him an apologetic one in return.

You heard the male next to you clear his throat, making you sigh and look back at him, “As I was saying, these plants couldn’t do no harm to me at all. Look.” Callum boasted, playfully waving the wand at the calm cabbage making you widen your eyes, knowing better than to do something as foolish as that.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you-” but your words were too late for the poor boy as the plant reached over and chomped on the wand, effectively bending it in half, making you cringe and snicker at his own ignorance of the subject.

“Mr. Williams! Haven’t you been listening to what I instructed? 5 points from Ravenclaw” Professor Sprout said, making everyone from his house groan and the male blush a deep hue in shame for his actions, making you look at him with a teasing grin, patting his shoulder.

“Maybe try not to be a show-off next time and listen to the professor’s instruction.” you said, your tone a very teasing one as your irritation from earlier was slowly fading away, seeing Neville laughing quietly to himself.

The sight gave you the same butterflies you felt the first time you saw him, making you smile as you tended to the plant in front of you.

---

After William’s attempt in flirting with you, a lot of other boys tried to sway your emotions with gifts and Herbology facts after knowing your love for the subject, but all of them deemed ineffective as your eyes were only trained to one person, who was actually sitting in front of you.

“Hey (Y/N), are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” McLaggen suddenly approached, plopping down on the seat next to you, his awful cologne hitting your senses way too soon making you shift away from him.

“Uh yes, I am actually.” You answered, trying to be polite as you went back to your dinner, praying to Godric that he leaves you alone. His mere presence annoys the living light out of you and you aren't sure how long you can keep up this kindness for him. “I’m actually going with someone, if you were going to ask that.”

This came as a surprise for the male, making him look at you in disbelief, “and who might that be?”

“Neville. I’m very much excited for tomorrow, actually.” You were quick to answer, making the boy in front of you choke on his dinner, caught off guard at the mention of his name, but was quick to catch on, coughing as he sipped on his pumpkin juice.

“I can’t believe this,” Cormac said, shaking his head as he stood up, retreating back to his original spot, making you sigh in relaxation, actually happy that he was gone.

“I’m so sorry about dragging into this mess, Nev.” you apologized, giving him a sad smile, feeling bad about using him to get away from a male yet again.

He shook his head, brows furrowing lightly as he leaned into the table, a small smile on his lips, “I was actually planning on asking you after dinner.” Neville said, making you blush in surprise, the butterflies in your stomach.

“See you tomorrow then.”

---

“A little bird told me you scored a date with your lil ol’ crush” Ginny’s voice bounced through your dorms, making you bump your head against the cover of your trunk. You looked back at her with a slight glare as you rubbed the spot you’ve hit.

You then looked at Hermione who was pretending to read a book, failing to hide the smile that was on her lips, “It’s not a date!” You told Ginny, resuming to find a sweater you were going to wear for tomorrow’s event with Neville.

“Oh sure it’s not and I’m not a Weasley” Ginny answered back, sitting down beside you with the same shit-eating grin plastered on her lips, “If it’s not a date, why are you desperately looking for something to wear tomorrow, hmm?”

This made you drop whatever you were doing and looked at the ginger, realizing that you were, in fact, a worried mess for tomorrow. You never cared for what you wore during your weekends at Hogsmeade, usually throwing on whatever was for the weather and headed down with Ginny and her friends, but there was something different with Neville.

“Okay maybe I am worried for tomorrow, what if I look ugly and he takes it back and goes with his friends instead?” You sighed, shoulders slumping at the thought.

This was where Hermione chimed in, looking at the mess of clothes before sitting on your bed, “That’s where you’re wrong, (Y/N). Have you seen how Neville looks at you? He’s clearly mad for you.” She exclaimed, quite surprised that you’ve said that about yourself.

“Clearly, you haven’t seen the amount of boys who try to hit on you because you’re all googly eyes for him.” Ginny continued, also looking into the trunk when she saw the perfect gray knitted sweater for you to wear. “Now how about this?”

You turned to look and saw the sweater, making you nod in agreement, “Alright. I’ll wear this one then.” taking clothing from her and folding it by your lap, looking at the both of them with a smile, “I don’t know how I’d survive without the two of you.”

“We know.”

---

You looked at yourself once more in the mirror, straightening out the jacket you wore over your knitted sweater and headed on down to the Common Room to see Neville waiting for you by the end of the stairs.

“Good morning, (Y/N)” he greeted, giving you a smile as you stood beside him, securing his scarf before motioning you to walk with him, “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Nev.”

---

“Where on earth are you taking me, Mr. Longbottom?” You asked him, following his brisk movement along the village, your teeth chattering from the cold wind gushing through your face.

He stopped in his tracks, facing you with a small smile, “You’ll see soon enou- wait are you cold? Why didn’t you tell me?” Neville said, quickly taking off his scarf to wrap it around your neck, securing it with a loose knot.

“B-but what about you?” You asked him, eyes wide at his gesture.

He shook his head and replied, “I’m not that cold anyways. Keep that as long as you need it.”

And with that, the two of you kept walking until you reached a somewhat run-down inn, your eyes reading ‘Hog’s Head Inn’ sign before noticing Dean who was waiting by the door, “Took the two of you long enough! Let’s go in, it’s freezing in here.” He shouted, opening the door to the pub before turning back to the both of you, “By the way, nice matching sweaters,” He teased, making the two of you look down to see that indeed, you were wearing the same clothing.

“L-let’s go in, shall we?” You asked, motioning to the door. Neville shyly nodded, walking towards the door and opening it for you, “After you, (Y/N)”

You smiled, walking inside the shabby looking place with him behind you.

---

The next sort of events happened in such a whirlwind, finding your eyes wide in surprise at what Harry had gone through within his stay at Hogwarts. You believed that You-Know-Who was back because of your Aunt’s warnings to stay in America rather than to go back to London; but you didn’t know that it was Harry who had faced him the flesh.

You had this big resentment towards Umbridge as well so you were completely on-board with joining this secret organization your friends have made. “D-did he really kill a Basilisk?” you whispered to Neville, eyes still on Harry as he explained what could possibly happen when you’re actually in battle. Neville nodded, “He did, it was amazing how he did it honestly.” he replied, making you nod in agreement.

“That’s why we need your help, because if we’re going to have any chance at beating—” Hermione explained, stumbling over her words “—Voldemort.” she finished, glancing at all of you before looking back at Harry.

“He’s really back?” The boy in front of you (which you learned his name to be Nigel) asked, making Harry nod once.

“Well then, if You-Know-Who’s really somewhere out there, I’m here to support Harry any way I can.” You spoke up, giving the trio a knowing smile which they returned with grateful faces.

You were now writing your name on the list of students who would join Dumbledore’s Army when Ron leaned in to whisper, “You and Neville look great together” making you look at him in shock, shaking your head immediately as his assumption. Your head snapped up and looked at Ron, then at Hermione and Harry who were agreeing with Ron.

“W-we’re just friends, nothing else.” You denied, knowing that he doesn’t feel the same way as you do. You shot the three a small smile as you set the pencil down, walking over to Neville who was chatting with Dean.

“Blimey (Y/N), you even have Neville’s scarf? Is there something going on between the two of you?” The talled boy asked, making the both of you shake your head in disagreement, cheeks both flushed red at the question.

“We’re friends, Dean.” Neville was the one to answer this time, giving you a tight-lipped smile as he looked back at his friend to resume whatever topic they were speaking about.

You were the first one to deny any speculations about the two of you, but why were you so hurt when Neville was the one to say it?

---

The holiday break was over and all of you were back at Hogwarts, meaning that the D.A meetings were back on track and you were more than ecstatic to learn more spells. You were arranging your clothes back into your drawer when you caught sight of an unfamiliar scarf, grabbing it from under the heap of clothes, you finally saw the scribbled “Longbottom” on one of the ends.

You smiled fondly, recalling how he gave it to you without hesitation, making your heart flutter at the gesture. Bringing the piece of clothing up to your nose, you can barely pick up Neville’s minty scent, making you smile even more.

“I guess it’s time to give you back, I guess.”

---

You carefully looked around the hallway, eyeing for anyone from the Inquistorial Squad before entering the Room of Requirement.

Instead of seeing a room filled with students, you were greeted by Neville and Harry’s backs, deep in conversation. “I’m quite proud to be their son.” Neville’s voice echoed through the empty space, “but i’m not sure if i’m ready for anyone to know just yet.” He continued, his voice laced with sadness.

You knew what he meant, remembering every story he’s ever told you about his parents, how his mother would give him gum wrappers whenever they visit— even showing you how many he’s kept over the years of him visiting with his grandmother— and your heart swelled even more for the boy, knowing that what he’s doing is not only for himself, but for his parents as well.

“We’re gonna make them proud, Neville. That’s a promise.” Harry’s voice soon followed and as their conversation stopped, you stepped in, clearing your throat. The both of them looked back, relieved to see that it was only you.

“Mind if I have a word with Neville, Potter?” You asked, to which he shook his head, stepping aside and playfully motioning his hand over to the latter, patting him on the shoulder before leaving the two of you alone.

Your heart was pounding at the sudden quietness that enveloped the two of you, your hand gripping the scarf tighter, “Neville, just so you know, I think your mum and dad are very proud of you.” you said gently, stepping towards him with a warm smile, to which he returned with a similar one.

His eyes avoided yours, the tip of his ears red that you’ve caught him in such a vulnerable state, “And if it means anything, I’m also very proud of you.” you added, stepping another inch closer, now making him look at you.

When he looked into your eyes, Neville only saw sincerity and love filling them, making his heartbeat quicken in its pace. He’s always had a crush on you but he never really put anything into action because of the fear that you might not feel the same way. He was about to open his mouth, about to admit his feelings when you heard the door open once again, the voices of the other members filling the room.

He shut his mouth and sighed in defeat, thinking that maybe it wasn’t the right time for his feelings.

“H-here’s your scarf, by the way. I accidentally brought it home for the break.” You spoke up, coughing lightly as your cheeks reddened, realizing how close the two of you were before stepping back to hand him his scarf, “Good luck with today’s spells, Nev.” You bid him before turning your back to run towards Ginny and Hermione.

---

“A full-bodied patronus is the most difficult to produce but shield forms can also be queally useful against a variety of opponents.” Harry explained, walking around the litter of students who were trying their hardest to conjure their patronus.

You were by the corner, struggling to even produce a single stream of light when Harry spoke up again, “Fantastic, Ginny!”, making you look her way to see that she had actually conjured a full-grown horse while you couldn’t even make anything out of it. Your shoulders were slumped at the frustration you feel for yourself.

“Think of the happiest thing you can.” You heard the golden boy’s voice once more, causing you to avert your attention to Neville who was also struggling to make his patronus, smiling at how adorable his focused look was.

Your eyes lingered around everyone who was fascinated by the animals that filled the Room of Requirement, amazed at how powerful happy memories are to protect a person. As you turned to look at Ron, you were surprised to see the figure of a Jack Russell Terrier run and knocking an unsuspecting Neville down.

You snickered quietly at your friend’s unfortunate set-up, you closed your eyes to try and focus on something that truly made you happy; head raking through the endless memories you have made with different people that made your heart bounce with joy.

Until Neville’s goofy smile popped up in your mind, making you smile at the small memory of his features carved deep within your mind and heart.

As you opened your eyes, you muttered the incantation and with the flick of your wand, a St. Bernard dog leaped from the ray of light and wagged its tail, walking around the people in the room.

Your head turned around to call Neville, wanting him to witness this moment when a sudden boom echoed from the other side of the wall, making everyone stop in their tracks. The spirit animals of the students slowly vanished as the wall of their entrance continued to create noise.

As Harry and Nigel got closer to the source of the noise, Neville was quick to rush to your side and put you behind his back as small pieces of the wall flew around the room. You peeked against his side, heart racing as his subtle minty smell filled your senses, managing to calm down your fast heartbeat.

The next thing you knew, the whole wall imploded and Neville’s arms were around you, shielding you from the big chunks of the wall. As he let go, you saw Umbridge, Flich, The Inquisitorial Squad and a guilty looking Cho on the other side.

---

You balled your hand into a fist as you walked out of the Great Hall, jaw clenched as you tried to fight back the tears that welled up.

Dumbledore’s Army had been caught by the Inquisitorial Squad and all of you were sent into detention, forced to use the black quill that engraved deep scars into your hands, as “a reminder of what happens to students who disobey the rules”

As you reached the Common Room, you sat down by the couch, letting your wounded hand’s blood freely drip down. You were too tired to even cast a basic healing spell on yourself, drained from Umbridge’s horrid ways.

Almost lulled into slumber, you’ve been awakened by Neville who grabbed your wounded hand and continued to clean up the mess, gently wiping away the blood with his handkerchief. Silence wrapped the both of you up comfortably, his wordless actions making a warm feeling spread across your chest, sending you into a wholesome state of euphoria at the realization of how much you adored the dark-haired boy.

“Neville” You whispered, making his brown eyes meet yours for a split second before placing your lips against his slightly chapped ones, capturing it in a sweet kiss.

His eyes were wide with your sudden gesture, remaining still as the both of you stayed in that position. Neville was in more than just disbelief, his heart beating out of his ribcage when he felt you slowly pull away from his lips, frowning subtly at the loss of your warmth against him. He searched for the adoration that he’s always seen in your (E/C) orbs, finding comfort in knowing that his feelings were reciprocated.

That the girl who had everyone wrapped around her finger, returned the emotions he swore to keep under the carpet.

His silence broke your heart, thinking that you were rejected and you ruined the only thing that made you happy. “N-Nev, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what came over me, you just looked so perfect and-” but what you didn’t expect was for his lips to be reconnected with yours, his larger hand holding your smaller ones gently, thumb coaxing against your knuckles.

Neville broke away from the kiss, opting to rest his forehead against yours as he asked, “Y-you like me too?” his voice laced with hope and happiness as his eyes met yours once again.

You hummed in agreement, letting your other hand reach up to place it against his neck, the pad of your thumb coaxing his soft skin, “I’ve always had, Neville.”

Leaning back, you saw the confusion etched on his features, “But there were so many boys who are much more good looking and worthy than me, s-so why?” He asked, tone now filled with worry at the realization that he might not be the right person for you.

“Because it was always you Neville. In the sea of people who liked me for my physical appearance, you were the only one who looked passed that and saw me for who I really was. You are worth so much more than what you think of, my love.” comes your answer, heart fluttering at the sight of him leaning into your palm, feeling the tension of his body release.

“I may not come from much, (Y/N), but I promise to always protect you. I promise that my heart only belongs to you.” Neville said, showing you the same smile that filled your heart with joy, the memory that made you the happiest.

“So does my heart, Neville. My heart belongs to you.”

---

BONUS:

“Oi Fred! George! You owe us four sickles” a certain Weasley and a brown haired girl whispered, overlooking the sweet moment the two of you shared by the stairs.

As much as they loved the slow burn the two of you had, they needed their own fun by placing bets who would confess their love first and how it would go down. Your two friends betted that you were the first to move while the twins went with Neville.

“Merlin, remind me to never trust Longbottom again.”

“I swear this is your fault, Freddie.”

---

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