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dreamcubed · 2 years

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this is why we can’t have nice things | pansy parkinson x reader

song; this is why we can't have nice things [taylor swift] pairing; pansy parkinson x gender neutral!reader genre; angst, established relationship, break-up word count; 1,8k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, mentions of cheating, public humiliation (not of y/n), mild verbal conflict summary; you had already given pansy a second chance, but she really had proven that she couldn't be trusted, and that your relationship had to be ended for good

masterlist

"there i was giving you a second chance, but you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand."

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Your gut instincts were always right - of course, this time you had the advantage of having lived through the signs of the same scenario before. Pansy becoming secretive, dismissive, distant, etc... all signs of her disloyalty that you had ignored last time out of the benefit of the doubt. She didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt again.

The undeniable sign the first time this happened was turning the corner in Hogsmeade to see Pansy wrapped in the arms of Draco Malfoy with her lips fused to his. Naturally, you had ran off afterwards, and refused to talk to her for a week: something about her eventual apology had seemed so genuine through the tears and sobs that you decided to give her a second chance. Now, as you watched Pansy walk away from turning down a study date with you, you couldn't help but feel as if that may have been a mistake.

It was the third time this week she had refused a study date with you in favour of studying alone: Pansy didn't like to study alone. That suggested to you that she wasn't studying - studying a subject the school offered, anyway. Maybe she was studying someone's genitals.

"Y/N," a familiar voice spoke, causing you to turn around to be met with Blaise Zabini's gaze, "You do know where she's going, don't you?"

You let out a sigh, "I have a feeling."

***

"In honour of the muggle subject of English literature, your assignment is to write a poem," your muggle studies teacher, Professor Burbage, spoke, "The subject can be anything that isn't exclusive to the wizarding world. If muggles don't know about it, don't write about it."

Longbottom raised his hand, "Will we have to read them to the class?"

"I would like for a couple volunteers to, but ultimately no. I do want each and every poem handed in, however."

You clutched your quill in thought, eyes flicking over to Pansy, who you had yet to address your suspicions with. She caught your eye and offered you a soft smile, which you returned, but the negative thoughts remained settled in your mind.

Blaise, who sat next to you, watched the interaction and gave you an incredulous look when you turned back to him. You rolled your eyes, but couldn't stop the smile from tugging at your lips. He was your most trusted friend, and the only person you would tell your plan to humiliate Pansy about, you had decided.

The plan had come to you during a study session in which Pansy failed to show up for, despite agreeing to. She never apologised for it, and you never brought it up, so she must have been very pre-occupied for the thought to never enter her mind again.

It was when her tardiness reached the twenty-minute mark that your hurt started dissipating into anger, a familiar feeling since she first cheated. Being surrounded by the knowledge of the library, it was only natural your brain was in a thinking state, and thus you found yourself fantasising about many scenarios of humiliation for Pansy. There was no way you would cheat on her in return - that felt cheap and underwhelming, aside from the fact you were sure that you would feel dirty afterwards. Regardless of the circumstances, it would still brand you as a cheater, and you didn't want that.

As it turned out, you wouldn't have to do much plotting, as the opportunity would fall right into your lap, courtesy of Professor Burbage.

***

Another Hogsmeade trip.

Honestly, the place somewhat left a bitter taste in your mouth ever since you found Pansy and Draco together there. Still, you needed a sweets restock to satisfy your everlasting sweet tooth, and the butterbeer of the Three Broomsticks tasted divine.

Perhaps less divine when you had to share a table with both Pansy and Draco.

Your friendship group had been more than awkward ever since the incident, and it had become clear there was on-going tension. After you had taken Pansy back, it had mainly been with Draco, but it was beginning to return with Pansy as well. Blaise had made his siding with you perfectly clear to the rest of the group, which you appreciated, while Crabbe and Goyle, like usual, remained opinionless - obedient servants to Draco. Theo had voiced his distaste towards Pansy and Draco's actions, but had not changed the way he treated them.

To be honest, you didn't really care. For you, one completely loyal and trustworthy friend was more than enough, and Blaise provided that.

Pansy was sat by your side, with your hands interlocked, but her attention was all upon Draco. It was strange, frankly, how numb to the situation you felt. By that point, Blaise knew of your plans to humiliate Pansy, and he also knew that your love for her was disappearing - although it wasn't all gone just yet, that would take time. So, all he could do was bite his tongue as he watched the brunette Slytherin girl believe she was getting away with cheating.

It was when Pansy shifted far enough back in her seat, for the briefest of moments, that you caught sight of the undeniable physical evidence you had yet to see. Draco, who sat on her other side, had his hand placed casually on her thigh.

You didn't feel a rush of anger, surprisingly. Instead, you felt a smirk grow on your face, now knowing for sure that you wouldn't regret your actions for even a second.

***

"Now, as terrifying as the prospect might be, do we have any volunteers to read their poems to the class?" Burbage asked, looking around the class with clearly very little hope.

You raised your hand instantly, taking your teacher by surprise.

"How courageous of you," was the remark you received, "Please, come to the front."

The anticipation screamed and twisted inside of you, fuelling your powerful stride to the front with your notebook in hand. In your mind's eye, you could picture Blaise smiling knowingly about what was about to happen, while Pansy sat obliviously in her seat, ogling at Draco from across the class.

"My poem is called This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things," you introduced, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"It was so nice throwing big parties Jumping into the pool from the balcony Everyone swimming in a champagne sea And there are no rules when you show up here Bass beat rattling the chandelier Feeling so Gatsby for that whole year."

You had to suppress a chuckle - Pansy didn't even know who Gatsby was. That was a neat little reference for the magic folk in your class to feel special about if they understood it.

"So why'd you have to rain on my parade? I'm shaking my head, I'm closing the gates."

Then, you allowed yourself to look up to make eye contact with Pansy, knowing that you had the next part memorised word for word.

"It was so nice being together again There I was giving you a second chance But you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand."

Her eyes widened, and people began to look in the direction that you were gazing, as your tone gave away that this poem was personal.

"And therein lies the issue, lovers don't try to trick you Get you all alone and mind-twist you And so I took an axe to a mended fence."

By this point, everybody was glancing between you and Pansy, whispering amongst each other as you continued.

"But I'm not the only friend you've lost lately," you tilted your head and pouted mockingly at her, "If only you weren't so shady.

"This is why we can't have nice things, darling Because you break them, I had to take them away Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you do without me?"

"Y/N-" she tried to speak, but you cut her off.

"Here's a toast to my real friends They don't care about the he said, she said And here's to my dignity I'm glad I found it again recently And here's to you 'Cause forgiveness is a nice thing to do."

You beamed proudly at her after that line, as you had said it in such a perfect imitation of a genuine tone, allowing the tiniest of smiles to etch on her face.

"I'm kidding, obviously This is why we can't have nice things."

Blaise didn't hesitate to start applauding, and out of obligation the rest of the class rippled into applause as well. All except Pansy, of course, who sat in a state of shock at her spot along the front row. You gave her a sweet smile, deciding to indulge yourself in the luxury of a bow to your audience.

Professor Burbage then regained composure, having initially been taken aback by the atmosphere in the room, and returned to the front, "Right, well, that was a very creative poem... thank you."

"You're welcome," you couldn't help but grin, "It was a joy writing it."

You then went back to your seat, keeping your chin held high as you walked past the rows of desks.

"Would anyone else like to read their poems?"

After your startling opener, no one else could find the bravery within them to volunteer, even if they had originally been planning on it.

***

Pansy found you after class, of course, and began spluttering her way through countless apologies, none of wish you cared for.

"Please, Y/N, please forgive me."

"No," you said, "I don't think I will."

"I know I fucked up but I-"

"Will only do it again," you finished for her, "So why don't you just save yourself the trouble of being tied to someone else? If you're single, you can fuck who you want, when you want, without hurting anyone."

"But I-"

"Or is it the kick of knowing you're doing something that you shouldn't that gets you?" you pondered aloud, before shrugging, "Either way, you're no longer my problem, so kindly bother someone else with your complaints. Perhaps Draco? You two are as close as ever, after all."

You turned away from her, relishing delightfully in the feeling that burned with you: revenge, justice, karma.

You felt like a bitch, and you loved it.

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i <3 10 things i hate about you

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written; 30/07/2022 —> 10/08/2022 published; 11/08/2022 edited; —/—/——

#pansy parkinson #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson x you #pansy parkinson x y/n #pansy x reader #pansy x you #pansy x y/n #draco x pansy #pansy x draco #blaise zabini #hp oneshot #hp fanfic #hp #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfic #break up

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duggarsetal · 2 years

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Okay, so, I am here today to talk to you about She Works Smart, Bethany Beal’s newest business venture.

What exactly is She Works Smart?

Well, I’ll let Bethany herself tell you. This is from the intro video she posted on her personal instagram.

Transcript: “ If you’re a stay-at-home mom and you’re wanting to bring extra income into your family, without having to spend a ton of time outside of the home, that’s what I’m gonna help you with. My passion is teaching women how to make passive income. So. I mean, they work hard one time on a specific project, and then from there they just promote it. They just talk about it and the income comes in. Um, so stick with me because I’m gonna show you over the next few months how you can take whatever you’re passionate about, whatever your expertise is - whether you are an expert at homeschooling or, you know, micro, a farmstead, having chickens in the city! Um, whether you are an English teacher, a nutritionist, whatever it is, I’m gonna teach you how to take that skillset and bring in over six figures a year with that specific skillset. Stick with me, I can’t wait to teach you all my tips and tricks, and hopefully, as a result, you will bless your family and have more time at home with your family.

That works as a reasonable summary - she’s gonna teach you how to make six figures per year in passive income.

But how, exactly??

An online course of course! An online course about how to make an online course.

Wait, what qualifies Bethany to be teaching you all of this?

Why, she’s an Online Course Creator - something of an expert*

*although Bethany doesn’t brand herself using that specific word, she repeatedly talks about the importance of presenting yourself as an expert.

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A post shared by Bethany | Online Course Coach (@sheworkssmart)

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Transcript: “Here are three reasons you absolutely must present yourself as an expert in your niche. The last one is the most important. Number one - an expert is just someone who has a comprehensive understanding of a particular skill, subject, topic. So if you do not have a comprehensive understanding of that, you need to get there so that you can be an expert. Number two - the more you understand your subject, the more you are going to be passionate about sharing it. So always continue learning, always continue growing, so that your expertise can continue to grow. And number three, the most important - if you do not believe in your knowledge and your skillset and your ability to teach your community, your community is gonna catch onto that, and they’re gonna go somewhere else. They’re not gonna follow along because they will see that you lack the confidence, that you don’t really believe in the service or product that you are offering. So, are you an expert? Well, that’s up to you - do you have the comprehensive knowledge to teach, to share that subject? And, like I said, if you don’t believe you do - get there! Because that’s what being an expert means, and your community needs to trust that you are the expert, and they need to come to you for your advice.”

I’m assuming that she’s taking her own advice and bolstering her own credentials, knowledge and ability. I think this largely because, Dav is the one actually doing a lot of the actual work.

Transcript: “...I’ve done this before, I have experience with it, so I know the process, I know the ropes. But I also have my husband who’s gonna be helping me with all of the online setup, which I hate. So the whole Kajabi* - getting all of that set up and doing all of the videos, like editing them all for me. Which I could do, but I just like, really don’t like it and he’s much better at it. So that’s gonna save me a ton of time and he’ll just be so much quicker”

*Kajabi is the platform through which the course will be sold/accessed

So, what else do we have?

Maybe some hints as to the content that’ll be included?

Well, it certainly won’t be covering any copyright laws.

Now, you may have noticed that the course won’t actually be released until September. So, what has she been doing?

Mostly posting cringy reels, complaining about not getting enough engagement and trying to go viral.

Oh, and when this course does get released, expect to pay a hefty sum to get access!

Anyway, that's all for now, coming up, we'll take a look at some of her best, worst, and cringiest reels!

#sheworkssmart #bethany beal #girl defined #Instagram

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saltygilmores · 1 year

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls: Season 1, Episode 21 (Love, Daisies, and Troubadors). Part II

Want to read part 1 and the rest of my season 1 reviews? Check out my pinned post.

Dean's empty chair. This portrait belongs in the Stars Hollow Museum, with the caption stating: "This Chair Represents A Time Dean Forrester Left And Wasn't Around And Everyone Was Happy."

Tomatos Sign: Spotted. Luke: Nothing much pressing at the town meeting. LOL the casual non-mention of Rory's speech. My second hand embarrassment meter is just throbbing hot right now for poor Rory. To get ya'll up to speed, several minutes ago, Luke was having a discussion with Lorelai about his difficulty making the transition from "loner" to "Having Girlfriend". But this is no longer an issue as Rachel has decided to go bye bye. Luke: Is there another guy? Rachel: No, it's another girl. Luke: *brain malfunctions* *sizzle* *fatal error*

Errr, I think you oughta just come right out and say what you really mean, girl. You're about to give him a stroke.

"What other girl...Ohhhhh."

Bye. Off to the Land of Short Lived & Unremarkable Exes You Go, Honey. You can spend your days frolicking with Nicole, that guy Alex (I liked Alex), and Shane. Rachel: Don't wait too long...to tell her. Narrator: And he would wait way too long to tell her.

Buzzfeed Quiz: Are you A Slutty Thursday Afternoon Girl, A Virgin Mary, or A Milk Whore?

Paris gazes at Rory with quiet awe, before lashing out at her in another transparent attempt to mask her true feelings for the love of her life. Paris: When I first met you I didn't like you because I thought you were just some rube from the sticks and I have no patience for rubes. But then I realized you're not dumb and you can be modestly interesting sometimes. Go on. Paris: I gave the music reviewer job to Louise. Rory: But she only owns two cds! Sick early 2000's burn.

They may not own many compact discs, but they still rule the school. And now for another one of our favorite segments, L&L throwing around tool-related words which make any conversation sound filthy.

Lorelai: I named your toolbox Bert and I have conversations with him. Luke: Thanks for taking care of my toolbox. Speaking of tools.

These two are gross and insufferable. Just twist the fucking knife into poor Luke's heart not 15 seconds after he told you he just got dumped. He doesn't need to see that shit.

He has the greatest Folgers.

Lorelai prefers MY toolbox. She wants to keep MY toolbox in her house. She loves my toolbox so much she NAMED IT and she TALKS to it.

I can fix her porch rail like a MAN. I fixed her porch rail three times today. I broke her porch rail just so I could bang on it again. She was all like, "Luke please pound it one more time" and "Luke, won't this wake the neighbors!" What do you have to offer, a ring pop?

Oh I bet he is.

MAX'S FACE. Maybe Rachel & Max should get together and bond after being sidelined by Luke & Lorelai, to form the big suckhole of mediocrity the world has ever seen, and breed a bunch of mediocre High School English Teacher Photojournalist babies.

Your penises she means your penises.

Lorelai, you filthy lying Milk Whore. MaxMedina: We were apart for a while, I didn't assume you joined a convent or anything. Max is about to propose to her-the second impromptu proposal Lorelai has recieved in just one season, having already fended off Christopher's advances. Honestly at this point if I were Lorelai I would be done with men and join a convent (or live with Mrs. Kim). Rory, you're on your own kid. Christopher proposed to her in the kitchen to end an argument, while Max chose the classier option and proposes in the living room to end an argument. Max and Lorelai get into a pointless argument about how much they dated around while they were broken up. Max confesses to being a bit of a Thursday Afternoon Milk Whore. Giving out a lot of ring pops.

LETS.

Listen lady, I appreciate your blunt honesty but I'm trying to get over that traumatic incident okay? And also the fact that you disclosed Rory was concieved on said balcony. Max: There's only one thing we could do to fix our relationship. Lorelai: Well, I'm not into the Murder-suicide thing.

I think I would have been happier with the murder-suicide option. Instead of saying "You can fuck right off with your mediocore English-Teaching, soda-sipping, ring-pop sucking ass" to her short-term, on-again-off-again boyfriend, Lorelai doesn't immeadiately say no, but instead gives him advice on how to propose to her properly. Lorelai then says uhh, let's just have a little do over, forgives him, and they go on with their evening forgetting that he just proposed marriage to her. As they walk out the door, Lorelai says goodbye to Bert (Luke's toolbox/ penis metaphor). Diet Logan harrasses Rory about not taking his concert ticket. Rory:"Just when I was making progress with Paris, now she hates me again." DL: "Well, the damge is already done so you might as well come with me." God, what an assclown.

Enjoying this assertive version of Rory while I still can because she isn't going to be around forever. . DL: Those tickets cost a fortune. RoryGil: They cost your daddy a fortune. Now why couldn't she say more shit like that to Logan? Ugh. He would have never made any headway into her life if she stood her ground like this as an adult. DL: I don't know anyone who's into this stupid guy. RoryGil: PJ Harvey's a woman. Bahahahahaa. Diet Logan, you clown. DL fucking GRABS RORY'S BOOKS AND TRIES TO BLACKMAIL HER TO GET THEM BACK. I'm sorry, what?!

Listen Rory, maybe now would be a good time to think about joining that convent with your mother/living with Mrs. Kim. There is no hope for TeenageBoyKind. Yeah, yeah, I know Jess is just around the corner but that's going to be an even bigger shit show. A shit show of massive proportions. Cut off the male species at the pass and call it a loss. Run away with Paris Geller, the real love of your life. How can get this scene get any worse? Hold onto your ring pops, folks. Stock up on eye bleach. We're about to witness the most awkward and disgusting kiss in the entire series, perhaps even a notch above the time Paris was making out with that old man professor boyfriend. I come bearing screen shots, people. You have been warned. Turn back now. Only the courageous of heart should proceed.

What a charmer. You too can be a Dean if you follow these simple steps: 1.Wear stupid leather jacket and drive stupid car. 2.Drive stupid car and wear stupid leather jacket to surprise ex girlfriend at school. 3.See ex girlfriend in the presence of another boy with no other context whatsoever. 4.Rage. 5.Proceed to do a little manipulative, pouty act. 6."I'm an idiot." 7."I shouldn't have come here." 8..Wait for girlfriend to cry "Dean, no, wait" 9.Pout some more. 10."I came out all the way out here and I see you with HIM!" 11."That's just GREAT." 12.Manipulate ex girlfriend into apologizing to YOU when she didn't want the other boy around in the first place and didn't ask you to be there either. 13. Act pissy when Ex girlfriend gives you the explanation you wanted as to why Diet Logan has her books. 14. Repeat step 7 as she's apologizing to you for no reason and start walking away. Ah yes, Diet Logan, the boy Rory is so madly in love with and four seconds earlier wasn't thinking about pushing off a steep cliff.

Rory's What The Hell is Happening to Me Right Now face. Dean has a box of RoryStuff, just like Rory has a DeanBox, and somehow that's so much worse. SO much worse. No wonder Dean doesn't want Clara in his room. She doesn't need to find his sick mementos. He's probably got like, a lock of her hair and one of her teeth in that box.

RORY-GIL THIS IS NOT THE TIME NOR THE PLACE FOR POLITE CONVERSATION. YOU NEED TO FLEE.

Hey there Buttzilla, I will not tolerate any disrespect for Rory's courageous, heartfelt, and deliciously cheesy speech. She is a role model for us introverts. We should all wish to emulate Season 1 RoryGil's heart, courage and tenacity to give that speech in the room full of weird townies, only to recieve no reaction. She's been through it. You sir, can go take a flying leap into an active volcano. I hear dumb teenage boys in ugly leather jackets who don't know how to kiss make the best volcanic sacrifices. Oooh boy people, we're going to have to make this a three-parter. Ran out of room again! I will not sacrifice screen shots for my art. See you soon for the thrilling conclusion. Happy Thanksgiving, I'm about to ruin it!

#gilmore girls #paris geller #paris gellar #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 1 #love daisies and troubadors #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #Anti Dean Forrester #Max Medina #ring pops

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jimins-goodgirl · 2 years

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A/n; hey guys, im back. Sorry for not writing for almost a year now, I've been really down lately and this year hasn't been tye best. I hope you can understand. This is a short story I wrote for you, not explicit mostly just some kissing. Again, thank for understanding and reblog if you liked this. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Sorry for bad spelling or grammar! Keep in mind, english isn't my first language 😮‍💨

Prom au!

Around 400 words

Warnings: literally pure fluff, unless you consider kissing a warning 🤷

Dancefloor 🪐

Music blasting as you and your friends get ready for what may just be one of the most memorable days of your life. Earlier in the year you and your friends had all agreed to come over to you'r house to get ready for prom. No exceptions. The night finally came and you found yourself singing along to cringy love songs with your friends while dressing up.

After hours of talking and getting ready you were finally done and on your way to prom. As soon as you arrive and step foot into you schools what was an old gymnasium, you were mesmerised by how beautiful the school heads and students made it look. The venue covered in shiny glitters and dreamy fairy lights looked breathing.

Since you arrived a bit later because you weren't about to listen to a sappy hour long speech from your teachers about how far you've all come and how they wish you the best of luck for you incoming education and/or job, the people had already started to go out to the dance floor with their dates to dance to slow classic music. You and your friends had made a mission that you all pick up one of the single guys there and dance with them.

Time started to pass and all of your friends suddenly all had dates leaving you all alone standing stiffly by the side or the dance floor right across the white tables with snacks. At that point you were sure that all the descent respectfully guys, that didn't only want sex were taken. When you feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

You look up to see none other then Jimin sitting right across you munching on some snacks all while staring at you. You and him haven't talked to much in general but he was very welcome in your friend group so he would come by during lunch to sit with you guys. You knew his personality very well for someone who wasn't very known at the school.

You've always had an attraction to this boy, and you could feel he felt the same attraction towards you. Time was ticking by and you had no one to dance with so you decided 'fuck it'. You look back at him with a flirty look on your face and gesture him to come over. You weren't actually sure if he'd take the offer but not even 2 milliseconds later you see him almost fall of the chair he was sitting on to jog over to you.

He arranges his hair as he walks up to you. ".....hey" he said with a cute smile, trying so very hard to conceal the fact the he was out of breath from running to you. "Hi" you reply back, flashing the same cute smile that he gave you back at him. "Soo uh, wanna dance?" He asked as he offered his hand to you like the gentleman he truly is. You nod in agreement and take his hand. You slowly walk onto the dancefloor and start to slowly get comfortable with eachother's bodies as you both sway across eachother while holding hands.

This whole dance thing with him earned you a few glares from the girls that fancied him but you decided to block them out. Jimin slowly starts nudging closer towards you when finally your touching foreheads as your bodies find the rhythm of the music, slowly swaying as you pull eachother close. He keeps looking straight into your eyes. His eyes are almost intoxicating.

The first proper sentace hes said to you shocked you a bit. "I really want to kiss you..." He blurted out. You feel his hot breath against your lips. "Then do it-'', you didn't have time to finish your statement before he closed the gap between your faces. His lips felt warm and extremely soft as he worked his mouth over yours.

He rips away from you with a deep breath. "I liked that." You announced. "Wanna do it again?" He asked although he was sure of the answer. "Oh god yes." He finished your sentence with another one of his beautiful kisses. This time you felt his tongue slip into your mouth. You didn't even fight over dominance because you know he'd win.

As slowly as the time goes by, you and him had already spent the whole night dancing, talking,and kissing. Every time you kissed, it felt like an angel had came down from heaven onto your lips. You both were lost in the passion. Unfortunately the night must come to an end. "So you wanna be something?" He asks you shyly looking to his feet. Which is a bit wierd considering you were just sucking eachother's faces off about a few minutes ago. "Yeah, id love that" you answer and you see his face light up. You swore you could see stars in his eyes the moment he looked up to face you.

You take his phone and dial in your number signing the contract name of as ''my girl💓💓''. " Here you go babe, call me whenever you want to go on a date" you say with a smile as you start to walk away from him. Suddenly you feel him grab your wrist and turn you back around straight into his arms to kiss you. After pulling away he mutters "Sure thing, 'my girl' " with a giggle while waving his phone with your brand new contact profile in his hand.

With one last smile of the night, you part ways, you can now go to sleep knowing you have a cute-ass boyfriend and that this truly was a memorable night after all.

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A/n; thanks for reading till the end! The best way you can help me get reach is by rebloging this post if you liked it :) Love you all sweethearts, have a great day/night!❤️‍🔥

#bts jimin #bts au #bts fanfic #park jimin x you #park jimin fluff #jimin x reader #park jimin #jimin imagine #bts fic

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messers-moony · 3 years

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Help | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Daughter!Reader

Summary: At first it was for him, now everything he does is for her.

Warnings: Rape, cursing, death, etc

Being wise comes with living. Dumbledore had lived a lot of years. Everyone knows that. The man worked his way up the hierarchy from being a Transfiguration teacher to the headmaster at Hogwarts. He was even offered a place as the Minister of Magic. What people didn’t comprehend or, rather, didn’t think about was, when living that long you realize every button to push, every nook and cranny to get your way.

Manipulation at its finest. Now, truth be told, manipulation isn’t always evil. It can be good, per se, manipulating someone to stop doing something that’s particularly harmful - alcohol, smoking. But when used negatively, it could make everything worse.

The Order of the Phoenix was manipulated. From beginning to end. Dumbledore convinced the young kids - naive kids - that they were safe and that’s what they needed. These kids needed reassurance that everything would be okay, and Dumbledore assured them that they were safe.

But were they safe when the McKinnon family died? Were they safe when Fabian and Gidian Prewett died? Could James and Lily truly depend on Dumbledore to keep them safe with a newborn?

When Sirius Black joined the order, he had one request. Just one. A linear, singular request. It was saving Regulus Black. That’s all Sirius wanted, was for his little brother to be safe. Sirius knew about Regulus being a death eater, and he needed saving. Regulus didn’t want this life, and he especially didn’t want this with a baby girl.

He was seventeen, and he was forced. Sirius knew it. James knew it. Remus knew it. Regulus had come to the Gryffindor portrait crying on his knees, begging - no - pleading for his older brother. The Fat Lady was cursing him out for not having the password and being a Slytherin. Luckily, James heard the ruckus and ran to his aid. He was yelling for Sirius.

“Sirius! Sirius, I need you!” James had never sounded so frantic, so panicky, “Sirius, now!”

Sirius threw the textbook on the floor. James’ voice reminded him of an alarm - crazed, loud, repetitive. The black-haired boy ran down the dorm steps, almost falling over his feet to see the portrait wide open. Everything went in a vignette, zoomed in and black around the edges. Immediately Sirius was pushing James off his little brother and embracing him tightly.

“S- Sirius.”

Godric, he sounded so broken, “‘S okay, Reggie. ‘S okay. I got you. It’s me, Sirius. You’re safe here, Frère.”

“It- It hurts.” Regulus muttered, his voice shaky and helpless, “Need you.”

“You’re okay.”

Sirius looked up into James’ worried hazel eyes, “C’mon. We’re bringing him up.”

“Are you mental?!”

“James, he’s my brother!”

James scowled, “He’s also a Slytherin!”

“He needs me. I’m not letting him go.” It was the first time Sirius’ voice had gone stern with James, “Either I’m sleeping out here with my brother, or you’re helping me bring him up to the dorm.”

“Fine, fine.”

Sirius looked down at his brother, who was tucked under his chin, silver streams trailing down his flushed cheeks. His cheeks glistened with anguish and pain. His fists were balling the back of Sirius’ white button-up, tightly, stressed.

“Reggie.” For the first time, Regulus didn’t cringe, and instead, he melted into Sirius’ warmth, “James and I are going to bring you into our dorm, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Gently Sirius helped him up, placing an arm around his shoulder. James put his other arm around his shoulder. Both boys helped the sixth year into the Gryffindor common room, getting multiple stares and glares. Regulus managed to up the stairs onto Sirius’ bed, a sniffling and trembling mess.

James smiled gently at them, and Sirius sat beside Regulus on the edge of his bed, “What happened?”

“She- She forced me. I didn’t want to. Please, Sirius, I didn’t want this.”

“Want what?”

“She touched me.” Regulus whispered, and Sirius rubbed his back, “I- I didn’t want it….”

Sirius hesitated, “Did- Did mum have anything to do with this?”

Regulus nodded, and silent tears fell down his cheeks, “She- Mum, is the reason. I was supposed to be arranged to this woman but- but she did this and- and-“

“It’s too much.” Regulus wailed.

Sirius held his brother close until he fell asleep. The trails of tears dried on his cheeks, and Sirius laid his head on the feathery pillow. The fleece comforter was placed over his wrinkled button-up, black pants, and socks. Regulus’ black curls contrasted the pillow, and his cheeks were a pale pink. Sirius had never felt so upset.

Releasing a breath of air, he left the dorm room to go to the common room where the boys were sitting. James perked up, and Remus’ head was pulled into a book, a cup of tea on the table beside him. Peter was playing chess with a fellow Gryffindor across the room, not paying attention to anything but the checkered table before him.

“Is he okay?”

Sirius plopped beside James, “He will be.”

The silence was killing Remus to the point of his curiosity tipping over, “What happened exactly?”

“Some girl, my mum, arranged him with did something that he didn’t consent to.”

The teacup that was in Remus’ hand dropped to the carpeted floor, staining, “You’re shitting me?”

Regulus was in pain, physically and emotionally. Although the boys didn’t understand completely, they understood that Sirius’s time would be dedicated to his little brother. No matter what was going on in the wizarding world at present, Sirius’ time was needed with Regulus.

It was nine months later. Thirty-nine weeks later. Two hundred and seventy-three days later. Left on the doorstep of the Noble House of Black’s residence was a baby girl. Orion and Walburga had left the house previously, leaving Regulus alone with Kreacher, their house elf. The baby girl was crying and helpless.

His lifeless grey eyes met the young girl's e/c ones, and everything clicked. This was the product of his emotional pain in his sixth year. Regulus couldn’t deny the warmth in his heart looking at the young girl. Gently he leaned down to take her in his arms. A pink silk blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm despite the summer months.

Once in his arms, the girls stopped crying. The warmth of his body and the softness in his eyes calmed her down. There was an envelope inside the baby blanket, which Regulus opened after placing the sleeping child on his lap. Essentially the letter was telling him to name the baby girl and her birthday. Along with now that the marriage was called off, she wanted nothing to do with him.

Regulus threw the parchment to the side furiously. Despite his frustration, he picked up his daughter and smiled at her, “I dunno what to name you precious.”

The girl wrapped her hand around his thumb that had been caressing her cheek, “Y/n? I like that name.”

She smiled, and so did he, “You like that too, don’t you, précieux.”

Regulus placed a kiss on Y/n’s forehead, rocking her back and forth, “I love you so much.”

During the school year, Y/n stayed with Sirius, who was overjoyed to stay with his niece. Regulus only saw his daughter one more time before he decided it was his end. Regulus knocked on Sirius’ flat, looking utterly exhausted. Sirius answered with a big smile on his face.

“Heya Reggie!”

Regulus struggled to smile, “Hey, Siri.”

“Come on.” Sirius beckoned, “Y/n is sleeping, but you can see her if you’d like.”

He walked in to see a door open to a small room. Inside it was painted in a pale lavender color with white furniture. Regulus walked inside to find a crib with his one-year-old girl sleeping inside. She made this so much harder. Regulus didn’t want to do this, but he needed to do it if he wished Y/n to have a safe life.

Regulus’ arms cradled his daughter to his chest, “I love you, précieux. I love you too much to express. I know that you’ll never remember me. I’m praying that Sirius will tell you about me.”

“You’re my baby girl. You’ll always be my baby girl.” Regulus’ eyes welled with tears, “And- And I’ll be with you no matter what.”

Y/n’s eyes opened, and she smiled, being cradled in her father's arms, “Dada?”

Regulus had tears streaming down his face, and Sirius watched from the doorway, “Yes, hi petite fille.”

She giggled, and Regulus had the brightest smile on his face; he nuzzled his nose with hers, “Dada’s here, little girl.”

He spent an hour with her. The last sixty minutes of his freedom was spent cooing and coddling. Regulus wanted to engrave her beautiful e/c eyes in his head, her soft smile, smooth skin, and fuzzy hair. Regulus placed his daughter back in the crib and kissed her forehead one more time.

Walking back out into the living room of the flat, he saw Sirius waiting for him. Regulus didn’t make any appoint to try and sit down. That’s how Sirius knew was something wrong. He released an air of breath and dried his tears.

“Sirius, you may have to keep Y/n with you a little longer until it’s safe, okay?”

“‘Course Reggie.”

“If- If I don’t come back-“

“Don't say that, please.”

Regulus looked at his brother solemnly, “But it’s realistic.”

“Okay, just- try to make it back.” Sirius replied.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try.” He lied, “I- I want you to tell her about me, yeah?”

Sirius chuckled, “You’re her father, Regulus. I wouldn’t not tell her.”

“Don’t let her mum take her. I don’t care what she says Y/n will be in your care.”

Sirius nodded, “One- One more thing. This may sound stupid but, teach her French?”

“Teach her French? Why?”

“It’s how I used to talk to her before seventh year started. I want her to know how to speak it. French was something I enjoyed learning, something that kept me sane at our horror house.” Regulus confessed, “I want her to learn it.”

“If it means that much to you, Reggie.” Sirius replied, and Regulus nodded, “It does.”

“Then Y/n will learn French, after English.”

“Good.”

Regulus began walking out the door when he felt arms around him from behind and a head in the crook of his neck, “Come back alive, okay?”

“I’m gonna try, Siri.”

He never came back alive. Regulus walked toward the entrance of that cave, knowing that today he was going to die. In the start, this was for Regulus to right his wrongs. Now it’s for his daughter. If anything, Y/n deserved a happy, exciting life. Not one of pain and suffering like Regulus had.

The Daily Prophet the next day said everything it needed to, “REGULUS BLACK DECLARED DEAD.” This was it. Regulus had inevitably left his daughter and got himself killed. Sirius cried - sobbed - for his little brother who had a child. He wept for his niece, who would grow up not knowing her father.

Ten years later, Y/n was getting ready for her first year at Hogwarts. Sirius had introduced baby Harry with one-year-old Y/n at the time where they became best friends. Harry was gravely disappointed at his best friend leaving but excited that he’d see her the following year.

In the bathroom, Y/n was sitting in front of the mirror with Sirius behind her. Sirius was brushing her hair, not because she couldn’t do it but because Sirius didn’t really want to let her go. After setting the brush on the counter, he placed his hands on her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror. She looked so much like him. His hands twirled through her h/c hair.

“You look like your father.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “I- I do?”

“You do.”

“I don’t remember much from him.” Y/n stated, “I remember him calling me précieux, vaguely, which I know now is precious.”

Sirius chuckled, “He also made me teach you, French. It was one of his wishes before he- you know.”

“Why?”

“Learning French is a pure-blood thing. Regulus said it kept him sane.” Sirius answered, “I honored that even if I hated that language.”

It was silent for a while, “You know, sometimes when you’re angry, you just start ranting in French?”

“I don’t!”

Sirius laughed, “You do. You definitely do, amour.”

Y/n giggled, and Sirius began tickling her sides. Her laughter and smile were contagious, just like how Regulus’ was. Regulus had such an infectious laugh and beautiful smile. Sirius was almost glad Y/n inherited it. After tickling her, she melted into Sirius’ embrace, hugging him tightly.

“Je t'aime, oncle Sirius.”

“Je t'aime aussi, amour.”

It was a system Sirius had created with her instead of saying, “Toujours Pur,” like his mother had made him and Regulus say. Y/n is what made him love French again. The way she swore in the language unintentionally. How she’d say the language like a native, just like her father. It meant everything to him.

Years later. Y/n was in fifth year, and the Triwizard tournament members had just been called. Viktor Krum was called first. Then Fleur Delacour. Then Cedric Diggory. That was meant to be the finality, but nonetheless, Harry Potter’s name got called. As all the members walked into a room away from the Great Hall, Dumbledore began speaking to the worried children.

One sentence stood out to Y/n particularly, “Help will always be given at Hogwarts for those who deserve it.”

It brought so much rage in her that she couldn’t help but speak, “That’s bullshit!”

Everyone stared with jaws slack, “My father deserved help! Hell, he needed to be saved, and here because of your bullshit, he died! My father is gone because of you and your shitty manipulative ways!”

“He may have been a death eater, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Godric, he needed saving! His own brother turned on him. So fuck you and fuck your stupid sayings. Because you aren’t a saint, and I don’t have to fall to your knees like a worthless soldier.”

Dumbledore was astonished by her attitude as she began leaving the Great Hall, “That's one hundred points from Gryffindor, Ms.Black!” McGonagall yelled.

“Pardonnez mon français, mais je m'en fous.” Y/n yelled as she flicked off everyone in the room.

Before she left, she turned around and faced everyone, “If anyone- and I mean anyone, touches, talks badly, or even remotely glares at Harry Potter, so help me, I won’t hesitate to hex you.”

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cutelanguagestuff · 3 years

Text

My Favourite Youtube Channels for Studying Languages 🌷

- innerFrench -

innerFrench is a channel ran by Hugo Cotton, a French teacher situated in Poland. Hugo is a native French speaker and speaks only in this language on his channel - you will never hear a word of English! Even when he explains the meanings of more obscure French words, he still uses French to both convey the word’s meaning, and enable his viewers to continue practicing their comprehension skills. The French Hugo uses is slow, clear and easy to understand for intermediate speakers. Begginners will also find this channel useful as a way to immerse themselves in the language. Hugo focuses on explaining different aspects of French culture in his videos, with a foreign target audience in mind. Since he is both a French teacher, and has had to learn Polish, it’s fair to say that Hugo understands the struggles of learning a foreign language and so is able to help his viewers improve their French skills in a suitable way. This is by far my favourite channel for learning French and I truly believe it has helped me a lot over the years!

- The Purple Palace -

The Purple Palace is a channel ran by Shayna Klee, an artist from the US who moved to Paris for art school. She makes videos in both English and French, often combining the two. When she speaks in French, she always includes English subtitles so that beginners don’t feel lost. Most of Shayna’s videos are vlogs in which she talks about art (which is incredible btw), fashion, French lifestyle / culture and her own personal life. She is quite open about her personal life which definitely makes her viewers feel more close to her as a person. What makes Shayna’s channel so unique is her artwork. I have never seen anything like it before! Seeing her creations makes learning French so much more enjoyable. If you love art or French culture you must explore this channel!

- Easy German -

This is my favourite channel to use for learning German. The hosts of Easy German just seem so sweet and every video puts me in such a positive mood. The Easy Languages network make videos on a range of languages (German, Spanish, French, Italian, Catalan, Polish, Greek, English, Russian, Turkish and many more) and the main premise of their videos is to “learn from the streets”. Most of their videos consist of street interviews with native speakers on various topics. This, of course, is a great way of learning because you get to hear conversational phrases, different accents and see different parts of the world. What makes Easy German so special is definetely the hosts. The channel has several hosts but the two main ones seem to be Cari and Janusz who just seem so lovely. Idk why but it seems like everyone they interview is always so friendly and sweet. It definetly breaks the stereotype that Germans are cold and distant. Easy German also make videos about grammar, vocab and any other things about German which they feel are important to point out. Another thing about this channel is that they don’t just focus on Germany - they also have videos situated in Austria and videos that talk about Swiss German and Austrian German.

- Spanish After Hours -

This channel reminds me of innerFrench as the host (Laura) speaks only in Spanish. Like Hugo from innerFrench, Laura uses a clear, slow register that makes it very easy for intermediate speakers to comprehend. Laura is a native Spanish speaker from Spain and so, if you are looking to speak Castilian Spanish, her accent is perfect to take inspiration from. Her videos are usually shorter than those at innerFrench which might help viewers who find it hard to concentrate for long periods of time. Laura’s videos are very diverse. In some she reads Spanish children’s stories, in others she does ASMR and sometimes she focuses on vocabulary. Nevertheless, her videos are always enjoyable and have definetly helped me with my Spanish listening skills recently.

- Parpalhon Blau -

This channel focuses on the Occitan language which is definetly a language which has very few learning resources. Occitan is a minority language, referring to several dialects spoken in Southern France, Monaco, Northern Spain and Western Italy. It is a romance language which has very close ties to Catalan. On Parpalhon Blau (which means blue butterfly), Gabrièu teaches his viewers how to pronounce Occitan words and helps them to improve their listening skills, catering for both beginners and intermediate learners. Before finding this channel, I had never even heard of Occitan but after hearing how beautiful it sounds, I just had to subscribe. Often with smaller languages like Occitan, the learning resources are very limited and the ones that do exist aren’t really the best quality. Parpalhon Blau however, is a great channel and the perfect introduction to the language.

- Langfocus -

On Langfocus, Paul makes videos surrounding an incredible range of languages. He has videos on almost every language I can think of! the chances are, if you are studying a language, Paul will have made a video about it. I genuinely cannot understand how one person can know so much about so many languages. Most of his videos focus on individual languages or dialects, however, he also has some very interesting ones in where he compares two languages together, highlighting the differences and similarities between them, whilst also explaining the reasons behind this. In each video, Paul aims to give a good overview of the language, discussing it’s origins, pronounciation, alphabet and grammar. Sometimes these videos can be a bit overwhelming if you don’t know anything at all about the language so I mostly use his videos to learn more about languages I am already studying or as an introduction to a language I want to study in the future.

- JuLingo -

This channel is quite similar to Langfocus in the way that Julie mostly focuses on a different language per video, offering a general overview of it. Julie tends to focus on smaller languages, like Ainu and Basque that people may not know a lot about rather than more popular languages like Spanish and French. Julie’s channel is a great way of exploring new languages that you may have never thought to learn before. Like Paul from Langfocus, she doesn’t just talk about grammar and sentence structure, she also includes information on the language’s origins, which I personally find fascinating.

- Ecolinguist -

On Ecolinguist, Norbert challenges native speakers of different languages to try and understand a language foreign to them. Through these experiments, he reveals how similar and how different languages are to one another. Usually, he chooses speakers of the same language family as the language which they are listening to and, being a viewer, you are invited to test yourself too. As a native English speaker, I particularly enjoyed discovering how much Old English I could decipher but also since I speak intermediate French and Spanish, I was able to test myself against Latin, Italian, Romanian and Lombard too. Since Norbert is Polish, he also makes videos focused on learning Polish, mostly regarding speaking and listening. Another series Norbet has is his guess the language challenge, in which a guest is presented with audios of language from anywhere in the world and has to guess it. Although I am very bad at these theyre always fun to watch. Its incredible how skilled his guests are!

#language #langblr #language learning #polish #german #spanish #french #occitan #linguistics

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spideykaiparker · 3 years

Text

Not Your Average Field trip

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Field trip trope

warning(s) : slight smut, fluff

summary : peter's decathlon team are going on a field trip to Stark Industries, but peter wasn't allowed to go, long story short, they bumped into peter in the hallway, catching peter in a slight compromising situation.

author's note : okay, so this is my second peter parker fanfic, this is your typical peter parker field trip trope but with a slight twist, i had this idea for a while, so i hope you like it! it's okay if you don't, cause i just wrote this for my own entertainment, hehe. english is not my first language, so sorry if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes.

I'm really sorry if it's bad, but i promise it gets better along the way!

anyways, happy reading! ^_^

it was noisy in the decathlon room, Mr. Harrington was in the principal's office because apparently there's some big news for the team.

about 45 minutes later, Mr. Harrington came back to the room with a bunch of papers, wearing an excited face. immediately all of the noise stopped and the focus was on Mr. Harrington.

"okay everyone, i have some exciting news here" Mr. Harrington said, practically shaking because he couldn't contain his excitement. "we're going to Stark Industries on Friday!" he continued with a huge grin.

"what?!"

"how?"

"we're going where?"

all of peter's decathlon teammates were freaking out, excited by the news, but peter, he was freaking out because of the fact that they were going to his work place.

but then again, his teammates except ned and mj doesn't even believe that peter got an internship at Stark Industries, they think that he's lying about his internship, hell, even some of his teachers doesn't believe him, even if he already gave them the legal documents, they still won't believe him, saying that he's forging the documents. where in reality, he really got an internship. Mr. Stark has gave him a real internship seeing as he's really intelligent, some might even say he's on par with Tony Stark himself. Mr. Stark made him his personal intern, but he could still work with the other interns.

"okay calm down everybody, I'm going to hand out these forms for your parents or guardians to sign, make sure to hand it in to me on thursday" Mr. Harrington explained while handing out the forms, still a bit excited himself.

"okay you may go now"

just as peter was heading out, Mr. Harrington called him over. "pete can you come here for a second" he said while gesturing with his hand for peter to come over.

"yes Mr. Harrington? is anything wrong?"

"ah yes, unfortunately, because some of the teachers don't believe that you really have an internship at Starks Industries, they decided to not let you go, they said that your lying has gone too far, and should be punished for it, therefore you can't come on the field trip"

"what? but I'm not lying, Mr. Harrington" peter questioned, a bit hurt that his teachers don't even believe him, but also a bit relieved, because he wouldn't have to go on a field trip to his own work place.

"i know you're not pete, but unfortunately the other teachers don't think so, but you can just stay at home instead of going to school" Mr. Harrington explained, feeling sorry for peter.

"okay, Mr. Harrington, thanks for informing me" peter said while walking outside.

peter went straight to Stark Industries after that, because May finally agreed for them to stay at Stark Industries after a lot of provoking from Mr. Stark.

once he arrived at Stark Industries, he went straight up to the living quarters, more specifically to Y/N stark's room, without needing to scan his badge because the employees there already knows him.

when he reached the top he went straight to Y/N's room, only to see her sleeping in front of her desk with a bunch of unfinished projects that she's working on.

smiling at the sight, peter slowly made his way to Y/N, picking her up gently, and carrying her to her bed, then getting inside under the covers himself. Y/N automatically snuggled closer to peter, feeling his warmth, inhaling his familiar scent.

"mm.. you're back" Y/N said while rubbing her face in peter's sweatshirt like a cat.

"yeah i just got back, baby" peter replied while stroking the back of her head, smiling down at her.

"what time is it?" Y/N questioned whilst rubbing her eyes.

"uhh, i think it's a little past four pm"

"let's head to the kitchen, I'm hungryy" Y/N suggested while slowly getting up from the bed, still gaining consciousness.

once they reached the kitchen, Y/N sat down on the counter, while peter made a sandwich for both of them.

Y/N, who was still a bit drowsy from sleep, noticed the sad look on peter's face while he was making a sandwich. she made her way to peter, hugging him from the back, resting her chin on his shoulder, but can't quite reach it because of the slight height difference. so she opted to just snuggle her face on the back of his right shoulder.

"is everything okay?" she questioned, tightening her grip around his waist.

"yeah.. it's just- i was supposed to go on a field trip here on friday, but the teachers wouldn't let me go because they think I'm lying about my internship" peter answered with a frown.

"what? how could they, they can't just do that, you gave them the documents, proof that you're really an intern here" Y/N said with anger clear in her voice, hugging peter a bit tighter.

"i know, but they think that I'm forging the documents" peter answered with a defeated look on his face.

"let's go talk to my dad, I'm sure he'll do something about it"

"no, it's okay, i don't care if they don't believe me, it's fine if i don't go on the field trip, i literally live here, why would i want to go on a field trip to my own home" peter retaliated

"but still—" she got cut off by peter turning around in her hold, hugging her back, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"it's fine, Y/N, I'm okay" he said with a small smile.

still a bit mad, Y/N just nodded her head with a small pout, resting her head on his chest, hugging him tighter.

peter laughed at her cuteness, resting his head on top of her's in return, rubbing the back of her head lovingly.

they spent the rest of the day watching netflix, talking about random stuff, just enjoying each others company.

thursday, they were supposed to hand in their forms to Mr. Harrington, and while his teammates excitedly talked about going to Stark Industries, peter was just resting his head on the table, waiting for the day to go by. ned offered to not go on the field trip and just hang out with peter, but peter couldn't do that to ned, so he insisted for ned to go the field trip.

peter just couldn't wait to go home, flash has been taunting him every second about his internship, saying that he couldn't wait to prove to the whole school that penis parker is lying about his internship.

"why the sour face, parker? scared that your fake internship would be exposed?" flash taunted.

peter didn't reply, instead he just buried his head in his arms, wishing for this to all be over so he could head home and cuddle with Y/N.

"not answering, are we? afraid that I'm right?" flash continued taunting peter with a smirk.

"just leave me alone, flash" peter answered, with a tired look.

"tch, fine, I'm going to prove everyone I'm right tommorow anyways"

"whatever you say, flash" peter said while rolling his eyes.

when it was time to go home, peter practically sprinted out of the room, can't wait any longer to go home and spend time with Y/N.

when he reached the tower, he went straight to Y/N's room, finding her working on a project she's been working on for weeks.

"oh peter, you're here" Y/N said, getting up from her desk and immediately hugging peter.

peter hugged her back tightly, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her comforting scent, immediately forgetting about today's events.

when nighttime came, they laid on the bed, talking about each other's days. but peter got distracted by the way her lips move, thinking about how her lips wrapped around him, taking in his entire length in her mouth, teasingly playing with the head with her tongue.

"—pete? are you listening?" she asked with a slight smirk. she knows that peter has been staring at her lips for a quite while, she could practically see what he was imagining in his mind.

"huh? y-yeah? what?" peter breaks out of his trance, looking into her eyes that held a mishchievious glint.

"i said, were you listening?" she asked with an innocent look.

"y-yeah, i was" peter stuttered back.

"really? i could've sworn you've been looking at my lips for a while then" she climbed onto his lap "probably imagining how it would look wrapped around your pretty cock, aren't you? how i would lick the head like a lollipop, or how i would take you whole, slowly rubbing your thighs.." she trailed off, kissing his neck, running one of her hand down his chest, resting it on his growing bulge.

peter gulped, looking up at her with doe eyes, gripping her waist tightly.

"i know you said that you're fine about the field trip peter, but i could see the look on your face everytime someone mentions it, so, let me take care of you, okay?" Y/N said, slowly rubbing his growing erection through the material of his pants. she tugged on his shirt signaling him to take of his shirt, he did it almost immediately.

she got off him, only to go down in front of his erection, slowly unbuttoning his pants, sliding it down his legs, leaving his boxer briefs behind.

she kissed the insides of his thighs, leaving bite marks on her way, slowly making her way to his clothed erection.

she rubbed him through the material of his briefs, teasing him while kissing his stomach and hips continuing to leave marks.

peter couldn't contain his moans, he threw his head back moaning loudly not caring if anybody hears, gripping the bed sheets, he couldn't wait for Y/N to finally wrap her lips around him.

Y/N went up in fornt of his face, kissing him roughly, still rubbing her hand up and down his shaft. then slowly making her way down, kissing his neck, leaving marks, going down to his chest.

she wrapped her lips around one of his nipples, swirling her tongue around it, slightly biting it, while her free hand went to his other nipple, pinching it slightly with her index and thumb, occasionally switching to rolling it with her thumb.

peter was absolutely losing it, the feeling of her lips around his nipples, combined with her hand slowly rubbing his hard on. he feels as if he's going to explode if she doesn't put him in her mouth immediately.

she then continued her way down, hooking her fingers around the waistband of his briefs, finally letting it out of its confinement. his member sprung up hitting his lower abdomen, precum leaking out of the pink tip, twitching when she wrapped her hand around it.

she slowly moved her hand up and down his hard shaft, her thumb gently pressing down on the head, immediately getting a loud moan out of him.

she leaned a bit, giving small kitten licks on the head, then finally wrapping her lips around the head first, swirling her tongue around it, then slowly went down further, until her nose brushed against the base. one of her hand playing with his balls, kneading it.

peter moaned loudly, throwing his head back, one of his hand making its way to her hair gripping it tightly, guiding her head to move up and down. peter couldn't hold his hips back from thrusting into her mouth roughly, hitting the back of her throat.

this slightly surprised Y/N, choking her slightly, but doing her best to keep up with his pace.

his thrusts becoming sloppy, his member twitching inside her mouth, indicating her that he was about to cum.

"i-i'm cumming" peter said, eyes closed, his thrusts becoming even more sloppy.

with a few more thrusts, he came inside her mouth, she removed herself from him, swallowing his load, helping him with his high, running her hand up and down his shaft, with some of the cum going onto her face.

when he was done, they were both panting, looking into each others eyes with blush coating both of their faces.

he leaned down and kissed her, slightly tasting himself on her tongue. the kiss was slow, and passionate, opposite of their kiss earlier.

they pulled back and smiled at each other, until peter remember something.

"wait, i didn't get to return the favor"

"it's fine peter, i told you i was the one who's taking care of you today, you can make it up to me some other time, okay?" she said, cupping his cheeks with her hands, kissing his lips one more time.

"okay..."

"okay, I'm going to wash my face now, then we can go to sleep" she said once again, while getting up from the bed heading to the bathroom. peter just wore his briefs, too tired to do anything else.

once she was done, they cuddled the rest of the night, with her head on his chest, her arm wrapped around his neck, and one of her leg was thrown over his thighs, while his arms wrapped themselves around her waist, burying his head in her hair.

the next morning, they woke up around 10.30 a.m, because of last nights... events. after they woke up, they decided to stay a little longer in bed, just talking, maybe sneaking in some kisses in between. they were both too distracted by each other that they forgot it was friday, a.k.a the day when peter's decathlon team have a field trip to Stark Industries.

the decathlon team arrived not too long ago. usually, Stark Industries doesn't allow school field trips to go higher than the general labs. but, their tour guide, harley keener, was specifically instructed by Tony Stark himself to allow them to go to the higher levels, where tony's and bruce's labs were at. but not only that, that's also where the avengers living quarters, common rooms, and training room/gym were at. just so he can prove everyone that peter is not lying.

"okay, so just a reminder, you are not allowed to touch or take anything from here" harley informed the team while walking down the hallway after going out of the elevator.

"so as you can see, these are some of the avenger's rooms, each of their names are labeled on the door"

the team was in awe with everything, they couldn't believe that they were allowed to go to the higher levels.

"woah is that Y/N stark's room?!" one of the kid's exclaimed.

just as they were about to pass Y/N's room, the door suddenly opened, and out comes peter, only wearing some gray sweatpants, his neck and bare chest littered with hickeys, and Y/N with an oversized t-shirt —probably peter's, with some short's that almost covered by the t-shirt. "yeah i was thinking about pancakes—"

"—peter?"

"—Y/N Stark?"

the decathlon team's mouths hang wide open shocked by the scene infront of them, even ned, mj was slightly surprised but didn't showed it. they couldn't believe that penis parker the nerd was coming out of Y/N Stark's room, shirtless, with hickeys littered around his torso, and has abs.

"huh?" they —peter and Y/N, turned their heads, and when they saw who made the noise, their eyes widened.

"harley! what are they doing here!, they aren't supposed to be here!" peter exclaimed, covering his chest, standing behind Y/N.

"i don't know man, Tony told me they were allowed to go here" harley answered with a shrug.

"but i see you had some fun last night" he continued with a huge smirk on his face.

peter blushed, wanting to just bury himself in the ground and forget this ever happened.

"peter! you really work here?" one of his teammates asked.

"well yeah, i did already told you guys, didn't i? you guys just didn't want to believe me"

"i believed you since the beginning, peter!" ned exclaimed happily.

"and thank you for that" peter smiled, still can't grasp the fact that this is actually happening, his teammates caught him coming out of Y/N's room, with him looking like that.

"peter! are you really dating Y/N stark?" one of his teammates asked again, wanting to know as much as possible about the situation right now.

"umm.." he paused, looking at Y/N, silently asking her if he should tell them, when Y/N nodded with a comforting smile, he continued, "yeah.."

hearing his answer, his teammates were once again shocked by the fact that peter was really dating Y/N.

"why?" a voice asked from the back, they all looked behind them, making way for the person to come forward. the person walked forwards confidently, with smug look on his face.

"why penis parker?" it was flash. once again not wanting for peter to have such a nice life.

"what did you just called him?" Y/N asked, daring him to call peter that again, her smile immediately turning into a scowl, eyes practically boring in flash's skull.

"penis parker, why him? out of all the people you could have, for example me" flash answered, still looking smug, but a slight fear crossed his eyes. his teammates were silently watching the scene unfold infront of them, slightly scared for flash, but also knowing that he deserves it.

"why, you ask? why not? he's smart, kind, selfless, caring, got a body to die for, a face that's cute and hot on the same time, i mean how is that even possible? he's perfect, he's everything you're not ever going to be.' Y/N answered, venom practically lacing every word she utters.

before flash can utter a word, she continued, "—you think you're perfect for me? have you looked at yourself? you think you're all that, flaunting all that money, but in reality, that's just your daddy's money" she said with a mocking pout, "but after this, are you sure you're still going to have money?, you better be scared for your dad, because after the stunt you just pulled here, I'm sure dad's going to take action about it. and before you say anything about me being a daddy's girl, having her dad take care of her problems, using all of her dad's money, no. unlike you, i actually help here, i actually earn the money that's been given to me, infact, most of the avengers gears were designed with the help of me." she ended, arms crossing infront of her chest, looking intimidatingly at flash, daring him to argue.

but flash couldn't even utter a single word, mouth opening and closing like a fish, embarrassed, not looking so confident now.

peter's teammates who were just observing, was also shocked by the words uttered by the Stark girl, feeling embarrassed for flash, and admiring her intimidating aura. peter looking at her with heart eyes, practically falling in love all over again with her.

when flash didn't utter a single word, she smirked, "so now that that's settled, peter and i are going to head on our way now, bye bye~" she waved her fingers with one hand, the other pulling peter away from his teammates.

"oh yeah, one more thing, you're all going to sign NDA'S to make sure, none of this is going to get out, if you were to even utter a single word about today to anyone, you better watch out because we are going to take action." she walked out, dragging peter with her, slightly swaying her hips, peter behind her looking at her with admiration.

his teammates were once again left shocked by the whole encounter, looking back at their retreating bodies with a new found astonishment.

it was silent for a second, then all of a sudden they all started freaking out, talking about the encounter.

"okay, so that happened, come on now let's continue the tour" harley cuts, silencing everyone.

peter and Y/N decided to have breakfast, or probably brunch, and then deciding to train for a while. they headed to the training room. they changed into their workout clothes, peter just wearing a tight t-shirt, kind of like the ones steve likes to wear, paired with some shorts, and Y/N wearing a sports bra, with some matching leggings on.

they continued sparring for a while, too distracted by each other, that they didn't realize that the decathlon team was once again at the door, watching them spar with each other with astonishment, still having the difficulty to grasp that penis parker was actually cool.

somehow, they ended up with peter being pinned down on the ground, with Y/N straddling him.

Y/N smirked, leaning down, her hands still bunched up around peter's collar, using that to slightly pull peter up, making him lean his body on his elbows, then kissing him. peter kissed back almost immediately, one of his hand coming around to grip her waist.

the decathlon team who was watching the scene unfold infront of them, was once again shocked.

"...okay, let's just leave them alone now." harley awkwardly suggested, ushering everyone out.

one by one, they left the training room with shocked looks on their faces, leaving peter and Y/N in their own worlds.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker fic #peter parker smut #tom holland x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker field trip #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker fluff #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #tom holland imagine

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crush-x-reader-fluff-angst-smut · 3 years

Text

Romeo and Juliet || Jock!Crush x Female Shy!Reader

FOR: @a-very-bored-blogger REQUESTED: Yes!

”hii may i request a jock male crush x shy insecure fem reader? if possible, smth abt the crush confronting the reader that she is much better than she think she is? tysm i love ur blog 💓💓“

I had fun with this! It took a bit of a turn, but I thought it was pretty wholesome.

TW: body insecurities

y/n l/n had never thought of herself as pretty, even though she sure as hell was. She had beautiful h/c hair and mesmerizing e/c eyes. yet she was so insecure. Seeing all the beautiful, thin, cheerleaders made her jealous and insecure, considering her crush was an athlete.

oh c/n c/l/n. He was hot. His gorgeous e/c eyes and muscular build, y/n thought it must be impossible not to fall for the cute boy.

But, would y/n ever talk to him? No. Would she consider it? No.

until one day, a very special day. A day where y/n liked her english teacher for once.

”Class! Today I will be pairing you all in groups of 5 to perform a short version of a Shakespeare play for class. Before you ask, I will be making the groups myself. Group one, doing Hamlet, will be Justin, Cassidy, Sierra, Carter, and Sophia. Group two doing Macbeth will be b/f/n, f/n, Jackson, Tony, and Juan..” the teacher went on, until y/n heard the play she wanted to hear.

”Group 4 Romeo and Juliet. C/n, Chloe, Mariah, Wilbur, and Y/N.”

Her heart was racing, she felt a little sick, but she also felt a little amazing. The thought of playing the love interest with c/n made her blush. The teacher handed scripts with pre-assigned roles to a group member.

”disperse!” the teacher yelled.

c/n ran to y/n with the scripts.

”Just so you know, I got Romeo and you got Juliet, and I don’t want you to feel awkward having to kiss me, so I can switch with Wilbur if you’d like-“ c/n started to say before getting cut off by y/n.

”oh- um, t’s okay c/n,” y/n said, sincerely.

”do you wanna rehearse after school? My place?” C/n offered.

Y/n nodded, her face the exact shade of a tomato.

later that day, y/n arrived at c/n’s house. She had dressed up a bit, and even put on perfume, something she rarely did.

y/n rang the doorbell and c/n answered.

”come in!” he said as soon as he saw her.

she entered the house. It was pretty big, and modern looking.

”should we go up to my room?” c/n suggested.

y/n nodded and they went up to his room. The to started to rehearse until they got to the “kiss scene“ as y/n called it.

they had gotten pretty far until c/n spoke, “then move not, while my prayers effect, I take.”

He gulped and leaned in to kiss y/n when she pulled away at the last minute.

”I-I’m sorry c/n. I can’t,” y/n said with a shaky breath.

”I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or something I can-“ he started to offer before y/n stepped in.

”it’s not you, it’s me. I just- when I think of Juliet, I picture a beautiful, perfect girl, with a perfect figure, and a perfect smile. and that’s not me,” she admitted.

”What do you mean y/n? You are beautiful. I’ve had a huge crush on you since the 6th grade. Kissing you is all I’ve ever wanted. You are beautiful, and you are the perfect Juliet,” c/n said with a slight smile.

”I-I’ve liked you since 5th grade, and you’re telling me this now?” she said with a laugh.

c/n smiled and laughed.

”can we chat more. over a date this time? Will you be my Juliet?”

”Only if you’ll be my Romeo.”

#Romeo and Juliet #crush x reader #crush x reader smut #crush x reader fluff #crush x reader angst #crush x reader imagines #crush imagines

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the-swedes-knees · 3 years

Text

Time in A Bottle (Agent Mobius x Reader)

Summary: Everyone has a guilty pleasure. For Mobius, it's a slice of pie in a very specific slice of time.

Word Count: 1.8k

Located in the middle of Downtown, bordering on the corner of old-time druggies and newly gentrified condos was a moderate sized building with an exorbitant monthly rent.

It was a theme restaurant, if the theme was 'we opened in 1953 and we'll be damned if we change the decor'- done up in chrome and frosted glass windows that clashed against the surrounding brick and mortar. The neon sign bearing the establishment's name had burnt out years ago, but it wasn't the type of place one would seek out.

Unless you were Mobius, that is.

[09:45:00]

Technically, he shouldn't be here.

His unit was nearly a mile out, or, more accurately, they would be within the hour. Dates like this, where a simple flap of a fat pigeon's wing could ripple into Nexus event after Nexus event had a name. A proper designation in their severity and frequency of necessary resets.

But he just always referred to them as 'a real pickle'.

You glance up at the front door as the brass bell affixed to the frame jingles loudly. The man that enters looks around the place before making eye contact with you and smiles. He points to the empty bar and you nod your head.

Once you finish refilling the other customer's drink, you see that he's made himself comfortable in the middle stool.

"Hey there." You greet from the opposite side of the counter. He offers a sheepish greeting in response as you set a water down in front of him, balancing a plastic straw on the rim of the glass. "Can I start you off with some coffee? Just made a fresh pot."

"That'd be great, thanks."

You place the mug and matching saucer in front of him and pour. For a moment you look up at him, and he's smiling a very genuine smile- something very rare these days.

As soon as it's full to the brim you're reaching under the counter and grabbing a clean glass sugar pourer, placing it right next to his cup.

"How'd you know?"

"Customer service intuition, I guess." He thanks you before unfurling the napkin containing his flatware. Like someone with real proper manners, he drapes the napkin over one of his legs before stirring an ample amount of sugar into his drink.

You can't help but notice just how much he fits in to the whole aesthetic with his well fitted brown suit and slim tie. New York offered a multiplicity of personalities, and you'd become quite numb to anything and everything that would walk through that door.

Yet, someone about this man was intriguing, familiar in a way. Like in the past life he was a PI that you hired to confirm your husband's affair.

Both a confidant, and a stranger.

"Feel free to take your time, but, do you know what you'd like?" You note his closed menu pushed to the side. He raises his eyebrows and nods while mid-sip, and you pull out a notepad and pen from your apron.

"Sure do, could I get two slices?" He points the vintage rotating pie cooler to your left and specifies his selection.

Easy enough. You put two generous slices onto separate plates, and he declines your offer of whipped cream or ice cream on top.

"Good choice, this one's my favorite."

"You don't say." The knowing twinkle in his eye wasn't noticed as you busied yourself with refilling his coffee. He holds his hands up in mock defeat and sighs. "Well, I guess you'll have to join me." The ceramic scraped against the quartz tabletop as he pushed one of the plates across the bar, directly opposite himself.

"I'm on the clock-"

"Don't worry, another customer doesn't come in for-" He pauses to flex his arm, riding his jacket sleeve up just enough to check his wristwatch. "12 minutes and 43 seconds."

[09:52:16]

"Am I supposed to trust you on that?" You raise an eyebrow, and his only response is a slight head tilt and pushing the second slice a nudge closer to you.

It wasn't every day courteous men offered you a break in the form of your favorite desert. Your face screwed up in contemplation as you looked at the only other two patrons in the diner before giving in and grabbing a second set of flatware. "Well, it is slow-"

"For a Friday?" He has another bite before setting down his fork and dabbing at his face with his napkin.

"Is it Friday already?" You sigh, bent over the counter to take a bite of the pie. Delicious as ever. "Hardly feels like it, all the days are melding together."

"I think this one will stand out."

"What is the date, anyway?"

"May 4th." You make a hum of acknowledgement and he gives you a lopsided grin. "2012, incase you forgot the year too."

"I'll mark it in my calendar," You laugh, using your hand to cover your mouth as you continue to chew. "'The Day I Met-'"

"Mobius." He introduces himself, extending his hand over the counter and you shake it. His grip is firm, authoritative. Before you can reply with your own name, he refers to you by it while maintaining perfect eye contact.

You can't explain why, but it feels so right when he says it. Like it was perfectly made to be pronounced in his charming Texan drawl with just the faintest hint of gravel.

While you're fixed in a stunned silence his eyes deliberately dart to the lapel of your uniform. You follow his gaze and laugh at yourself for neglecting that you were indeed wearing a nametag.

"So Mobius... like, from maths?"

"Yeah, like math." He eyes his untouched water and picks up the plastic straw. His fingers move carefully, removing the straw from the perorated paper. You watch with curiosity as the man twists the paper once and pinches the two ends together with his thumb and index finger.

Mobius holds his opposite hand out to you, confident, waiting. With a bemused smile you allow him to guide your hand. His skin is warm, presumably from the way he had cradled his coffee mug, but it's comforting in a way. His rough hand guides you, your finger tracing the geometry of the paper-straw shape.

"A path that twists and turns... but always ends back at the same spot."

"I wasn't very good at math." You admit, and gesture around as if working in a place like this was a testament to that fact. "Why does it matter that it always ends where it began?"

"Well, that all depends on perspective. Maybe it doesn't matter. But to the one who observes it, it makes all the difference." You quirk an eyebrow, silently pressing him to elaborate. "Maybe that point's... where you got your first kiss, the feeling when your favorite football team scores a winning touchdown, a perfect sunset-"

Mobius catches himself trailing off, and looks down at his plate. He puts another bite onto his fork and cheers it to you.

"Or having pie in good company."

You look around the mostly empty diner before bracing your arms against the counter, leaning in as if you were to whisper some great secret.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit odd?"

[09:59:06]

"No-" His eyes crinkle as he laughs. "No, that's a new one. But you find it charming." He winked, actually winked, and leaned back in his stool, smirking into his coffee.

Your fork was halfway to your mouth as your just stared at him, frozen. You feel your mouth open and close a few times as you try to think of a somewhat dignified response.

"How would you know that?"

"I just know things." He shrugged.

"Like what?" You challenged.

"How about, Paul- over there." You crane your head to follow his line of eye, your coworker currently bussing a table that had just left. "Worked in this place five years, loves Coke- from the glass bottle, nothing else. Has a girl on the Upper East Side and runs a decent sized internet radio station out of his apartment."

"You're one of his listeners." You narrowed your eyes at him, a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"Oh, no. Hyperpop... not my style."

"Alright, BBC Sherlock-" You countered. You give a subtle head tilt to a woman sitting in a far off booth, papers spread out on the table around her pancake combo. Whoever she was, she definitely wasn't a regular. "How about her?"

"Mrs. Braverman. Youngest of eight siblings, English teacher at the charter school up the avenue. Actually prefers imitation maple syrup to the real thing."

You know very well Mobius could be talking out of his ass. But he's confident, nonchalantly so- like this was a game to him and he was obviously winning.

"What about me?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Your anticipation is palpable as he swallows his final bite, taking the time to wipe his face of crumbs before smiling softly at you.

"You are... a poem of a person. Charming, capable, when you walk into a room people notice- even if you convince yourself that they don't." His gaze is steady, patient, and he's looking at you as if you're the only person in the universe. "You have big dreams, far beyond all... this... and you're gonna make it."

[10:04:59]

The sound of the door chime breaks you out of whatever hypnotic state you had found yourself in. Sucking in a breath and blinking away the very beginnings of tears in your eyes you tell the new customer to sit wherever they like.

Mobius took this chance to check his handheld, sighing at the time and the ever-growing slope of the branch variation.

The reset charge would be set soon, with or without him there.

"Look at that. Duty calls." He stands up and pulls a billfold from his jacket pocket, not even counting as he puts the cash down on the counter.

Mobius turns to leave, but hesitates. He turns back around to face you and places his hands on his hips. Allowing himself to play into the fleeting illusion just a tad longer.

"One more thing I know about you-" Mobius rubbed his chin in careful consideration. "You have a date tonight."

"Ah-" You wag your finger at him and shake your head side to side, "got one wrong."

"Did I? Ah- well... How about we change that?"

You pause. The plates you had been holding found their way back to the counter as you set them down slowly. Once again in a very short time span, he had left you speechless.

"That... was possibly the lamest pickup line I've ever heard." Though you mean it to be snarky, it sounds more like praise coming from your smiling lips. "I get off at 6:30."

"Alright." He looks perfectly pleased with himself as he lightly knocks on the counter with his fist. "It's a date."

Walking out the door, Mobius gave one last look at the diner before reporting to the event site.

He knew would see you again, always at 9:45.

#agent mobius #mobius #mobius m. mobius #agent mobius x reader #mobius x reader #loki series #loki #marvel #marvel x reader #sorry for the interruption from my usual content #but I love time traveling men

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thedaredevilsgirl · 3 years

Note

Can you do a smut fic about professor tom and y/n is his student and he takes a liking to her and yes smut lol

Dear Teacher

Warnings: reader over 18 (between 19 and 22 years old) teacher-student relationship (please don't get involved with your teachers, this is wrong) Smut (Oral -Fem! Receiving- fingering, thumb sucking?? doggy style, hair pulling, breathing kink)There may be some grammatical errors, English is not my primary language

Word count:2283

N/A: I've been gone for a while, I was kinda sad these days and wasn't getting around to writing, so apologies for the delay in requests. I loved writing this one shot, it was for sure the filthiest thing I've ever done and I'm already planning a part two for it.

Part 2

You look at the time one more time. 23:40. He should have been here two hours ago. You didn't know why you still ended up in these situations.

At the beginning of the week a boy had asked you out on a date, he had been kind of insisting on it for several days and then you finally gave in, to be honest you thought it would be a good idea, you were really trying to get over someone else. You had gotten all dressed up for the date, wearing your new red dress matching the color of the lipstick on your lips, but of course something had to go wrong, without even sending a message warning you that you would be late leaving you there alone at the bar for two hours.

Your cell phone beeps inside your purse and you quickly pick it up seeing a message notification.

"Sorry, I won't be able to make it" the message said.

"Asshole" you say to yourself taking the last sip of your third glass of wine that night already getting ready to leave. As soon as you get up from your chair you feel an arm hitting you, the person quickly turns around and if you thought the night couldn't get any worse you were completely wrong.

"Excuse me" He says still without looking at your face, but as soon as he does he gives you one of those "Miss Y/N" smiles.

"Mr Holland" you say a little nervously.

Tom was too young to be a college professor, he was barely out of one, but he was able to quickly show how effective he was at doing this. It had been over a year since he had started to be your literature professor, you still remember your first day when he walked into the auditorium and you could tell how nervous he was, it was so cute, the way he talked and nervously put his glasses on his face, but after a while he built up a certain confidence, and all that confidence caused not only you but all the female students in that class to sigh.

You had been avoiding him for two weeks or so since you realized you couldn't contain your feelings, you always sat in the back of the room hoping he wouldn't see you and now fate decided it would be a good idea to put him and you in the same bar.

"It seems like it's been so long since I've seen you" he says "I know you're going to my classes because I always get your assignments, but still..."

"I'm sorry, I've just been a little distant these last few weeks" you give a shy smile.

"Got it" His gaze goes down your body looking at your dress before looking back into your eyes "so, did you come to meet your boyfriend?"

He couldn't have been more discreet than that. Tom had been in love with you since the first day he met you, always paying attention in your class like it was the best thing in the world and answering your questions correctly and after you started helping him at the end of class he got even more caught up in your fingers, you were so smart and so beautiful, you were everything he wanted and could never have.

"I don't have a boyfriend" he almost lets out a sigh of relief at your answer "I'm alone today".

"Me too..." He watches her for a moment again "You could sit with me" he offers gently.

"I don't want to bother you".

"It won't be any bother, you know I enjoy your company" He lets slip.

"Perhaps I could stay here a little longer".

He sits down right next to he at the table and orders a drink for the two of them.

"Don't worry, I'll buy it for you." From another one of those charming smiles that sent shivers down your body.

You notice, the black pants that fit so well on his body and the white social shirt with the first few buttons open, he had probably just finished his last class of the day before going to the bar.

"I read your latest work on the Brontë sisters, it was impeccable, as always" he compliments making you smile.

"I think it was the easiest assignment of the year, I love their books".

"I'm sure you do" he speak with a smile.

"What do you mean?"

"I think I know you pretty well, I'm sure I can tell all your favorite books just by looking at your eyes."

"Really?" He asks laughing.

"Yes" He says smugly.

"Then Mr Holland" you say in a tone of challenge approaching him "Tell me by looking into my eyes what my favorite books are" He looks at you, watching you intently in silence for a few minutes.

"I'm sure you love classics, Pride and Prejudice or Emma must be your favorites, and your favorite Brontë is Emily, surely you've read The Hill of Howling Winds more than once" He answers with surprising certainty without breaking eye contact, you blush over his gaze, he seemed to be reading you "So did I get it right?"

"Almost, really my favorite book is Emma, I love classics, but I am also passionate about books like Twilight" you both laugh together " but you got one thing wrong, my favorite Brontë is Charlotte, nothing will ever compare to Jane Eyre"

"I was almost entirely right" he defends himself as a joke.

"You are almost always right Mr. Holland".

"We are not in college, you don't have to call me Sir, you can call me Tom".

"Sure, Tom" You look down at your cup taking another sip of your drink.

He watches you intently as you bring the drink to your lips, the dress fit so well on your body, as if it was made exactly for him, and those red lips were driving him crazy, he wanted so much to kiss you, to taste the flavor of that wine on your lips.

The hours pass quickly as they talk, soon it is already 02:00 in the morning and the two of them are still there together.

"Why are you here alone on a Friday night?" You ask curiously after a while.

"I was correcting the last assignments of this semester and needed a stiff drink after I finished" he says before taking a sip of the whiskey in his glass "And you, why are you alone here? Shouldn't you be at some frat party or something?"

"No" you laugh "I had a date" you say shyly.

"I thought you hadn't a boyfriend."

"I don't, it was just a date, but he kind of dumped me, so I ended up alone here."

"What an idiot, I would never let you get away" He says and your eyes meet for the thousandth time that night. You were already sitting very close together "I'm sure he'll be very sorry later" he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"Why?" Your breath starts to get a little shallow with the closeness, your lips were already so close, you bite your lower lip making his gaze go straight to your mouth.

"Because you're perfect, any guy who has you is going to be so lucky" he takes a deep breath for a moment "God, you're so beautiful."

You finally break the distance between the two of you and kiss him. You pull away soon after, thinking that you had misinterpreted the moment and that maybe he was just being nice to you, but then he kisses you again, but intensely this time. One of his hands goes up your thigh, slowly lifting your dress and leaving a firm grip on it.

"I've been waiting for this for so long," he whispers with his lips still close to yours.

"Me too..."

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

Tom closes the door of his apartment and puts her against it kissing her again, his hands going all over her body, now his hands find her hair pulling it lightly making her moan between the kiss.

Their hands finally reach the zipper of your dress opening it and letting it fall on your feet leaving her only in lingerie, he looks admiringly at her body biting his lip.

"More beautiful than I ever imagined."

"Do you imagine me much without clothes Mr.Holland?" He asks in a cheeky tone.

Tom was already used to you calling him that way, but not with that sexy tone of voice you used this time, he felt a sting in his cock when you ask him that, like he was getting harder just from your words.

"More than I should dear."

"What kinds of thoughts go through your head?"

"Don't worry honey, I'll show you" he says suggestively.

He begins to spread kisses down your neck, down to the top of her breasts, then down her belly, until he is on his knees in front of her, Tom runs one of his fingers down her still clothed slit.

"You are so wet, princess, is this all for me?" You just moan in response "I'll take that as a yes".

His hands pull your panties down removing them from your body, he places one of your legs over his shoulder leaving kisses along your thigh without looking away from your face. His kisses finally reach her center, he runs his tongue slowly from her entrance to her clit trapping it between his lips as soon as he finds it.

"Fuck, Tom" his hands grab her hair making him moan, the vibrations increasing your pleasure.

He would take her close to her apex and stop before you could cum and then repeat it all over again.

He holds your clit between his lips again, running his tongue over the little pink bud, but this time he decides to add his fingers to the tease, you were already so wet that the first finger goes in easily and then the second, in and out of you making you roll your eyes with pleasure.

"Please Tom."

"Please what princess?" He asks after taking his mouth off your intimacy without taking his fingers off you.

"Please Mr Holland" you say innocently "I need to cum".

"Good girl" he sucks you again until you finally reach your climax in his mouth and fingers.

He stands up quickly showing you the fingers that were inside you and placing them over your lips.

"Suck" He says authoritatively, you open your mouth quickly sucking your own furrows from his fingers, tongue curling around them as if you were sucking his cock. You moan in protest as he removes them from you, missing the weight on your tongue.

Finally they arrive in your room, placing you on his bed as he removes your clothes, and he makes you turn around, your belly and chest against the bed and your hips thrusting toward him. You hear the sound of the condom packet being opened before you feel him brush his cock against your pussy, from entrance to clit without penetrating making you moan slyly.

"Are you ready princess?" He asks.

"Yes please" you practically beg to have him.

His hands grab your hips, he finally enters you making you both moan loudly, Tom throws his head back feeling how pleasurable it was to have you.

"So tight, you feel so good around me" He says.

Moving in and out of you slowly, just to tease you, you roll your eyes and moan against the sheets, he finds your G-spot quickly increasing the pleasure.

"God, so so good"

His fingers curl into your hair pulling you in and the other hand finds your throat choking you slightly and pulling your body until your back is glued against his firm chest, the hand against your throat was the best part, the fingers squeezing on top of your pulse point and turning your face to him kissing you deeply.

"You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you princess?" He whispers in her ear.

"Yes" she replies almost voicelessly.

"You're a good girl for me, so wet..."

"Tom, please" she begs throwing her head back over his shoulder.

"Do you want to cum baby?" You ask penetrating her even faster "Cum for me."

Your body seems to obey his command and you are cumming seconds later, he comes soon after.

He pulls out of you and helps you to lie down on the bed, you fall tiredly against the pillow breathing quickly. Tom gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom attached to the bedroom. When he comes back already dressed in his pits and with a wet towel wiping you down, he then helps you put on your shirt before lying down beside you.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

When you wake up, the first thing you see is Tom, his arm around your body keeping you close.

"Shit," you say softly so as not to wake him.

Remembering everything that happened last night you are desperate, you can't regret what happened, it was certainly the best sex of your life. But it was so wrong.

You get out of bed slowly, pulling his arm away from your body, luckily he doesn't wake up and you manage to get up. You grab your clothes and quickly get dressed and get out of there. This couldn't happen again, it certainly couldn't.

You wouldn't fall into temptation again.

#tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #peter parker x y/n #sam holland x reader #peter parker oneshot #harry holland x reader #sam holland #peter parker x reader #professor!tom

567 notes · View notes

mae-gi-writes · 3 years

Text

Once Again (PT.I) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN : PART ONE

Summary:�� Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, slight angst, f!reader x dad! Iwaizumi

A/N: There will be 2 or 3 parts of this oneshot! Depending on how long I feel like writing. Thanks for checking it out and stopping by! Let’s dive into some Iwa moments :,)

NEXT PART -->

---

“What’s your return policy on rings?”

The saleswoman smiles sympathetically behind the counter. That stupid sympathetic smile he’s been getting for weeks on end now. And it never stops; with his co-workers, with his family, his friends...

Iwaizumi’s sick of it. He’s sick of having to prove that he’s doing just fine, thank you very much. When in truth, his heart is constantly being torn apart and stomped upon as is people have nothing better to do than torture him in their free time.

“I’m sorry, but these rings have been brought more than three years ago, and our warrant only lasts for three years,” the saleswoman keeps on talking but it doesn’t matter, for Iwaizumi can already feel the anger slowly creep up through the back of his neck, can already feel the vibrating emotions clogging up his sense of judgement.

His fists clench at his sides upon impulse, the physical pain of his nails driving into his palms enough to remind him to stay cordial. It’s not the woman’s fault, the better part of him chants, it’s not her fault at all.

“Fine,” he manages to grovel out, barely, “thanks anyway.”

He all but storms out of the shop while shoving the rectangular box back in his pant pocket, and though it’s been more than four months since his ugly divorce with the woman he’d hoped to share the rest of his life with, the weight of their promise hangs heavy and hot upon his thigh.

The thing is, Iwaizumi is mad. He is seething. If one were to give him a bat, he’d probably destroy the entire town by himself. Not because she was the one that cheated, not because she was the one going behind his back numerous times a week to seek out her lover when he’d been basically driven mad between Hoisuke’s cries and the stress of call meetings scheduled back to back.

No, he’s angry. Because how the fuck could she do this to Hoisuke? How can she break the child’s heart like that, so ruthlessly, without even thinking twice about the consequences?

Because if there is a victim in all this, then it’s definitely Hoisuke. And not only that, Hoisuke understands that his mother has been acting strange, that she doesn’t return at regular times and that her hugs now smell of cigarette smoke with a bittertaste of alcohol.

Iwaizumi is so caught up in anger that he almost blunders past his battered Hyundai, red and chipping away at the corners. Still, this car holds so many memories, the good and the bad ones.

“Can’t you get a newer car? I thought your company could sponsor you,” the ghost of his wife’s voice echoes through his head, a blatant reminder of all the things she’d found wrong in his life.

“Why?” he’d tilted his head around to fix his gaze on her figure bending over the sink. The TV was playing in the background and he thanked the gods that the morning comics were taking up Hoisuke’s attention, enough to distract him from his parents’ quibbles.

“It’s just--so old and tacky.”

“It still works well, doesn’t it? Why change it now?”

She’d paused, hesitated slightly before blundering on, “It’s embarrassing. My colleagues keep asking if we're poor or something."

"Who cares what your colleagues think?"

Fuck her, Iwaizumi mentally swears as he turns on the ignition. Fuck her and all her needs for a better life. As if the life they had wasn't more than enough. Pulling out into the street to join the incoming traffic, he blinks away the sudden tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes and swears once more, this time aloud, glad that Hoisuke isn't in his presence when he gets in such a foul mood.

Iwaixumi may be angry. He may be filled with pent-up rage from the memory still attached to the day he'd discovered a used condom in their bathroom trash. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That doesn't mean he does not still cry into his pillow over it every night.

----

"Please don't forget to do your homework for tomorrow! We'll correct them before moving on to the next chapter," you call out to your students as excited chatter fills the air. Students rise from their seats, some calling you bye and waving as they all file out of the classroom and you can't help the small smile lingering over your lips even though your feet are killing you.

Outside, parents have already lined up to collect their kids, the chatter and bustle of people ebbing away down the corridor as you let out a soft sigh.

"Miss?"

You jolt, not realizing that one of your students stands by the table wringing his hands, "what's wrong Hoisuke? Dad's not here yet?"

He shakes his head, watery eyes blinking up at you as he raises his thumb to his lips. You stand quickly and motion him to come close until he's within reach before your hand smoothes over the back of his head, "it's okay. He's probably stuck in traffic. I'll wait with you."

It's not surprising that parents get tardy once in a while and you're all too accustomed to those slight change in plans. Thankfully, you manage to distract the young boy with some coloured crayons and a piece of paper while you dial for his father's number.

It keeps ringing. No one picks up.

You try once more, one more time after that. But still, nothing. It shifts to voicemail. You decide it's better than nothing, "hi Iwaizumi-san. This is Y/N, Hoisuke's teacher. I was just wondering what time you would be picking up Hoisuke? Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you."

You end the call only to spot Hoisuke's eyes on you, intent and impatient for you to explain, "it's okay," you tell him with a smile, "he'll be here soon. Don't worry. Do you want to keep colouring some more?"

Hoisuke nods, to which your smile widens. It's those special moments, where your shyest students express themselves, that your chest warms with sympathy and affection. You've been there, you know how it feels like not to be heard, and you appreciate every interaction they offer you.

Being a primary school teacher is tough, especially since it wasn't in your original plans. But the satisfaction of bringing up some of the world's future leaders cancelled out all the late nights correcting tests and scrambled weekends trying to finish off as many worksheets as you possibly could for the coming week. You can’t complain, not when you have a decent salary that keeps bread on the table and a roof over your head.

A tug on your sleeve brings you back to Hoisuke looking up at you, a scribbled drawing of what seems to be of him and his dad. You feel yourself chuckling at how he's drawn both their hair in brown spikes, erratically extravagant and yet so close to reality.

"That's really good, Hoisuke!" You beam down at him, "what do you and your dad do on weekends?"

He shrugs shyly, head averted to the side so that there's no need for eye contact. And in the shyest voice he can muster up, he says:

"Daddy brings me...to see Mama," Hoisuke's words are barely above a mumble, "they live in different houses. They can't live together anymore."

Uneasiness squeeses in your stomach, followed by sympathy for this soft-hearted boy. You had overheard some of your colleagues giggling about Hoisuke's dad being attractive and single -- a combo that teachers adore -- but that doesn't mean that the weight of his words don't lay heavy on your own conscience.

"Do you miss your Mama a lot?" You ask him softly. Unconsciously, your hand finds a way to smooth over his head.

The boy doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, "sometimes. But it is better this way. Daddy smiles more now. And there's no one to shout and make noise."

"Are you happy, Hoisuke? With your dad?"

He nods and to your amazement grins, "daddy is funny. He tells me not to swear but when he burns the food he always swears. And then he says to shush and tells me to close my ears. He also makes me pancakes every Saturday morning before I go see Mama."

Right on cue, a figure bursts through the open classroom door and both your heads snap to see a drenched, older version of Hoisuke who looks like he just finished running a marathon.

"I'm--" he wheezes, causing you to stand in alarm and concern, "I'm sorry I'm--so late--"

"Daddy, you forgot me again!" Comes Hoisuke's statement as you ask Iwaizumi if he's okay. He shakes off your worry with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head, "I'm fine. Sorry-- there's a nasty rain outside--"

"It's okay," you reassure him as Hoisuke practically barrels into his father and almosy knocks him off his feet.

"Sorry Hoisuke," you watch Iwaizumi's hardened features soften ever so slightly as he ruffles his son's hair. Then, looking back up at you as you bring over Hoisuke's backpack, he says, "thank you. For looking after him."

"It's no problem, honestly. We had fun didn't we?" You grin down at your student and are delighted to find Hoisuke grinning back up at you, albeit shyly, "I put his homework in his diary. He'll need to complete it for tomorrow so that he doesn't fall behind in class."

His father nods, "alright. Thanks."

"Daddy, your hair looks atrocious," Hoisuke says, tugging onto his shirt.

"Atrocious huh?" Iwazumi's eyebrow rise, "someone was listening in their English class today."

"Atrocious means that it looks bad. Daddy, your hair looks bad."

"Thanks buddy, I knew that. Now say bye to Miss Y/N."

"Bye bye, miss Y/N," Hoisuke says, wriggling his short arm through the air as you wave back with a giggle. His father nods at you in silent thanks, makes a move to walk out of the class, only to swivel back to you just as you're collecting your bag.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, causing you to jump slightly, "yes?" You blink back at him and try hard not to stare at the way his white shirt clings to his toned chest, translucent from the rain.

"Do you need a ride?"

-----

You've known Iwaizumi since high school. Having graduated just two years later than he did, his reputation had preceded him throughout the school halls even though you'd never actually had any face to face interaction with the said man. Iwaizumi doesn't know this of course and you are adamant about keeping it a secret. But that plan seems to be unraveling before your very eyes the moment your small talk turns towards your academic history.

"You're from Aoba Johsai?" His surprised glance doesn't escape your notice, especially since that's the most reaction you've gotten out of him.

"Yeah," your eyes stay glued to the row of cars crawling through the motorway, "I remember you went there too, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You were Aoba's ace volleyball player. Everyone knew who you were."

His silence answers you and for a moment, you fear that you might have offended him. Not that it's something to be offended about.

Before you try to scratch your brain for some kind of response -- any response -- Hoisuke pipes up from the back seat, "Daddy was famous back when he was in high school. He hit the ball like kapow! And jumped so high he can touch the sky."

"Oh? Have you seen him on camera?" You turn slightly, a small smile dangling off your lips at how adorably amazed and excited Hoisuke seems to be.

"Yeah! His spikes are so awesome! It goes pow! And it zooms! Like a cannon ball!"

You burst out laughing, "yes, your father was amazing whenever he was on the court. Every girl in our class had a crush on him."

"What's a crush?"

"Hmm, you know when you really like someone. You like like them, you want to be together with them. Like, girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Oh," Hoisuke draws out, "did you really like daddy too?"

"Yeah I did."

"What?" Iwaizumi almost chokes on his own spit at the same time traffic eases and you're glad for the distraction, for you're certain there's a scattering of colour upon your cheeks.

"Do you really like him now?" Hoisuke persists, undoubtly untouched by the embarrassment taking over his father's features and you swear that more than ever, you want to laugh at how flustered Iwaizumi looks.

You decide to play nice though and instead turn to wink at your student, "that's a secret for me to keep."

You don't have to look twice to know that the man beside you is bursting into hot flames.

-----

"Did you really like Mama before you started living separately?"

Iwaizumi swears that he's never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Not when he's had to state that he was divorced, not when he had to sign divorce papers half drunk off his ass. Not even when he'd raged after his said ex-wife after finding a tie that wasn't his own in his laundry pile.

Now is probably a good definition of what uncomfortable means.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook are you?" He steals a glance at Hoisuke from over his shoulder while stirring the vegetable curry, "yes, I really liked your mother."

"Did she?"

The word 'yes' almost slips past his mouth. Except, he isn't sure whether that's the truth and decides to shoot back with, "have you finished your homework, Hoisuke? You know it's due tomorrow. Miss Y/N said so."

"Do you really like miss Y/N?"

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns, "well--no. Not like that."

"Why?" His son whines, "I really really like Miss Y/N. She's nice to me and she never shouts. And she bakes good cookies!"

"How'd you know that?" Iwaizumi leans over to taste a bit of the sauce. Not bad, he thinks and mentally pats himself on the back. A few weeks ago, he would've probably burnt the entire house down.

"Because she bakes them every month. Every time we finish a test."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," there's a pause as the man fishes out a bowl in which to serve the curry, "daddy, what do you do when you really like someone? Do you marry them like you and Mama did?"

"Uh--yeah. Sure."

"Then does that mean I need to marry Miss Y/N if I really like her?"

"Yup."

"Daddy!"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. Turning off the stovetop and bringing the bowl over to the dining table, he reaches out to ruffle his son's hair with a grin, "you're the one who has a crush on miss Y/N."

"She's too old for me Daddy," grumbles Hoisuke while scooping out two rice bowls as the pair sit down for dinner, "but she'll be good for you."

"Not that simple, buddy," Iwaizumi says as he dumps two spoonfuls of curry into his son's bowl, before doing the same with his own, "there's a difference between like and love."

A frown falls over his son's face, so like his own that Iwaizumi can't help but chuckle, "what is the difference?"

"Well, when you really like someone, you might want to get to know them better. Or play with them andd shit--stuff like that. When you love someone, it's..." he hesitates, "it's different."

"Why?"

There goes that innocent question that punctures his chesy a little too deeply. The brown-haired man steadies his gaze upon the calendar fixed on the wall opposite him as he answers with:

"When you love someone, you want to live with them. You want to start a family with them. Their happiness," his brown orbs switch back to his son's focused attention, "their happiness is all that matters."

Maybe it's the fact that he's not used to speaking so truthfully about such things. Maybe it's just Hoisuke who suddenly realizes the layers hidden beneath his father's poker-faced exterior. But for a moment, neither of them speak, as if bewitched by a silencing spell if broken by the scraping of cutlery against porcelain.

"Did you love mama?"

Hoisuke's voice is small, fragile. So fragile that Iwaizumi pauses just as his spoon reaches his mouth, glancing over at his boy. His beautiful boy.

"Yeah."

Another short pause. "Did she love me?"

"Of course she did," Iwaizumi's face softens. To be honest, Hoisuke hadn't showed any kind of restraint during the entire divorce procedure, had merely accepted things as they had unfolded before his very eyes. But sometimes, Iwaizumi fears his son might be keeping more from him than he lets on.

He ressembles his mother a lot in that sense.

"Then," wet coffee-coloured eyes blink up at him, lips trembling with a hoarse whisper, "why'd she leave?"

Before his father can say anything, the young boy bursts into tears.

Iwaizumi rushes over, clasping Hoisuke in his embrace as the child buries his face into his neck and cries and cries and cries. His little heart beats like wild horses and with every sob echoing through hid body, Iwaizumi feels his own heart break over and over again. One of his hands rub comforting circles of Hoisuke's back, while the other smoothes over the back of his head as he murmurs soft nothings in hopes that it will calm down the young child.

"I want--" Hoisuke's voice is thick with tears, "I want Mama--"

"Shh, hey it's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs out, "s'alright kiddo. I got you."

Hoisuke falls asleep eventually, the soft sniffles dying out into even breaths as he slumps against his father’s shoulder, probably tired out from his earlier emotions. Iwaizumi takes this as his chance to tuck the boy into bed, glad that he’d listened to the small subconscious in his head telling him that Hoisuke would be falling asleep sooner rather than latter.

As he smoothes over his son’s hair, a part of him wonders how much Hoisuke is still silently hurting from his mother’s departure. He can’t imagine it; suddenly changing lives like you’ve merely changed your bed sheets and Iwaizumi had been so caught up in his own heartbreak, in his own bout of silent rage, that he’d forgotten that along the way, Hoisuke was also a victim to their endless fighting, the cold war that had broken his family apart.

He wishes he can take the pain away, ease it somehow. But it’s not that simple. The truth is, no one can actually predict how a heart gets broken, nor when it does. The only evidence are the repurcussions. And it’s only now that Iwaizumi gets to see it truly take its form.

Leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hoisuke’s forehead, Iwaizumi murmurs his silent goodnight before walking out and gently closing the bedroom door behind him.

He leans onto the hard wooden surface and rubs his eyes. It is only upon pulling them away that he takes notice of the family photograph hanging on the opposite wall, frozen smiles wrapped up in lies.

He really needs to take that down.

-----

747 notes · View notes

chefdoeuvre · 3 years

Text

Aftermath

Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Sister!Reader

Description: People always tend to forget about the aftermath.

Words: 2,122

Requested: yes by anonymous; second, if it's ok i wanted to request a part two to the imagine? i was wondering if you could just explore the aftermath of her assault, as she continues to heal and accept what's happened to her. by this i mean experiencing ptsd and having nightmares, flashbacks and dealing with certain triggers. also, maybe she could still sometimes turn to substances as many survivors do, and just break down sometimes. obviously since it's a halstead sister fic and i love the support system in the last story, i'd love to see jay helping her through everything and being super protective + some scenes with the rest of intelligence? but it's obviously up to you. thank you so much <3

Warnings: mention of drinking, sexual assault, drugs, language, PTSD, Jay Halstead and all of Intelligence being the best.

A/N: This is the long awaited part two to Infliction, and by long-awaited I mean like a month later. I tried to make the end light hearted because it seemed like a good way to go. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.

—

It had been a few weeks since the party and things were beginning to look up. You and Brayden started hanging out more and it was safe to say the two of you were on your way to becoming best friends. The group of guys had all been arrested and sent far away from you. You, Jay, and Will have been having more frequent family movie nights instead of them heading out to Molly's every free night they got. Intelligence had basically adopted you as one of their own and even went out of their way to hang out with you. Kim and Hailey had girls nights away from the ever-annoying guys they work with. Adam and Kevin practically chauffeured you to hangouts with Brayden and took you out to your favorite diner on the weekends. Even Hank had called you once in a while as a check-in and to keep you informed about your case. Overall things seemed to be getting better for you.

Except for one little detail. Your PTSD was hitting you like a truck. Of course, the only person who even remotely knew what was happening was Brayden because he was the one person you spent most of your time with. Thankfully he was there to help ground you and calm you down when it all became too much for you. This wasn't sudden, it's been building up since it happened and clearly you needed to work on accepting it rather than shoving it all down. That's one thing you and Jay had in common, the two of you always had trouble addressing your problems no matter how big they became.

Currently, you were laying in bed and staring up at your ceiling that Jay had covered in stars for you. If there was one thing about you is that you still are a child at heart. You had been shocked awake by your recurring nightmare. It always followed the same premise of the night of the party but every night there were either different people, points of view, or different actions you took that still led you to the same outcome. There were dried tears staining your cheeks that you hadn't bothered to wipe away and every few moments there would be a soft sniffle to break the eerie silence.

Having enough of staring up at your ceiling you let out a low huff and pushed yourself up to a sitting position. You turned to the side and looked at the clock resting on your nightstand. The clock read 4:19 AM which was clearly too early for you to be up but too late for you to try and go back to sleep before Jay's rustling while getting ready would wake you up. Reaching over to open the drawer in your nightstand you checked the small bottle hidden under the glasses case that held your blue light ones. It was three-quarters full of vodka you had inconspicuously stolen from Jay's cabinet. You kept promising yourself that you wouldn't drink anymore, but clearly, that wasn't really panning out in your favor. Sure you would have a swig or two before braving yourself and heading off to school but it was to take the edge off, not to get drunk.

If Jay were to check through your drawer he'd probably think otherwise. You had stopped with the pills since he had found you, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him so you continued to drink. Obviously, it wasn't a lot and definitely not enough to get you drunk off your ass. You just wanted to be buzzed enough to have the courage to walk into your dreaded school every morning and deal with the numerous triggers you kept on discovering.

Eventually, it was time for you actually start getting ready for school. Jay had already left for work a while ago, leaving a kiss on your head before stepping out the door. You pulled on a random outfit that was comfortable and your usual pair of shoes before throwing your backpack over your shoulder and walked downstairs. Deciding against your worst judgment you made the choice to brave the day without the buzz of alcohol. Waiting at the front entrance of your building was Brayden. Like every morning the two of you would walk to school together if Jay had to go into the district early. If Jay only had paperwork that day he would drive the two of you to school instead, but that didn't happen very often.

The two of you walked to school silently, only exchanging a few words of greeting. Once you had made it to the large building you both had to split up for your classes. The day went on like usual, boring teachers droning on about upcoming assignments and tests. Lunch had arrived after what seemed like forever and you sat at an empty table practically half asleep. You held your head in your hand as you kept your eyes from slipping shut at the exhaustion.

"You not feeling too hot there?" One of your classmates from English asked as he passed by.

You froze at the familiar words before shaking yourself out of the memory.

"Fine, just tired." You brushed off their comment as he nodded with an understanding smile before continuing to his table.

Moments later the door opened and you picked your head up reluctantly. It was a few guys on the football team.

"You not feeling too hot there?" One of the seniors asked you.

You simply shook your head which only worsened the pain in it. The boys walked a few steps closer before placing their hands on your shoulders. They shoved you back onto the bed and immediately your body began to react.

You kicked and punched aimlessly to get them off of you but your movements were uncoordinated and your mind was foggy. There were too many of them and they began to overpower you, their hands wandering to unwanted places.

“Y/N?” Brayden’s voice pulled you out of the flashback.

“Huh?” Your teary eyes darted around his face before focusing on his concerned expression.

“Let’s head to the library, all right?” Brayden suggested already standing up from his seat across from you.

You nodded silently before hiking your bag over your shoulder and walked to the library beside him. Luckily at your school, they were lenient enough to let you head to the library during lunch. Usually, the kids didn’t take advantage of it but it was an unspoken spot of peace for you and Brayden.

The two of you sat at a table near the back and Brayden pulled a chair up beside you.

“Want to talk about what happened back at lunch?” Brayden asked softly.

You bit your lip in contemplation. This had been happening for weeks and every time you’d shake your head and change the subject. But the fact was it wasn’t getting better and you just needed to tell somebody that you weren’t okay. A few tears slipped out of your eyes which led to quiet sobs escaping from your lips. Brayden offered you a hug with outstretched arms, making sure to check if you were okay with it. You leaned forward into his embrace and squeezed his waist tightly. He held you there while rubbing soothing circles on your back until your cries stopped. You lifted your head off his chest and wiped away the remained tears on your cheeks before speaking up.

“Uh, flashbacks. I’ve been getting them for a while. I thought they’d go away, but they haven’t.” You explained with a sigh, avoiding his gaze and instead taking interest in your hands.

“Okay first, if they happen again tell me, or pull on my sleeve and I’ll get you somewhere quiet. Got it?” Brayden bent his head to try and get into your eye line.

You nodded your head with a hum before he spoke up again, “since they haven’t gone away maybe you should talk to someone. Preferably a professional, but if you’re only comfortable telling me then I’m all ears. Although, I’m not sure that I can cure you with magic, wish I could though.” Brayden tried to lighten the mood with his magic comment.

“Thanks, Brayden. Jay actually has been bugging me about seeing a therapist. Said it helped him with his PTSD, I think I might take him up on it.” You looked up at the boy with pursed lips.

“That’s good. Just know we’re not trying to force you into anything, we just want you to feel better however long that may take.” Brayden gave you a soft smile.

“You are wise beyond your years, you know that?” You smiled back with a small laugh.

“I try, I try.” Brayden shrugged nonchalantly.

“Can you come with me to the district after school?” You asked cautiously.

“Of course, not like I’d rather do my homework.” Brayden laughed.

“And there’s the Brayden I know.” You smiled widely.

Soon enough you and Brayden had been making your way to the twenty-first district to talk with Jay and probably the rest of Intelligence. The air was lighter between the two of you once you had finally started to open up. Of course, you hadn’t spilled everything but the little you had told him made the weight on your shoulders lessen slightly.

“Ah, baby Halstead and company, what brings you here?” Trudy greeted from the front desk with a tight-lipped smile. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, she had a soft spot for you.

“Can you ring us upstairs? I need to talk with Jay.” You asked.

“You’re lucky they haven’t caught a case today.” Trudy walked out from behind her desk and led you and Brayden upstairs.

“Thank you, Trudy.” You smiled and followed the woman.

“I have a special delivery for Detective Chuckles.” Trudy spoke up once the three of you reached the top of the steps.

Jay’s head snapped up from his desk with a look of confusion when his eyes landed on you. He quickly stood up and scanned you over for anything.

“What happened, are you all right?” Jay cupped your cheek in concern before sparing a glance at Brayden for any sign of something bad.

“I’m okay, I just needed to talk to you.” You reassured him.

“All right. You wanna head into the kitchen?” Jay asked.

“No, we could talk at your desk. They’re all gonna find out anyway.” You gestured to the rest of the unit who was watching the two of you intently.

Jay nodded his head and led you to his desk. You reached out and held onto Brayden’s arm as you pulled him along to take a seat and sit beside you. Of course, at this, the entire unit had gathered around with concerned faces once you started to explain to them. Jay’s expression was held with soft eyes as he listened to you agree with wanting to try therapy and asking for help.

Once you were done Jay stood up and placed a kiss on the top of your head before whispering into your hair, “I’m proud of you.” Jay pulled away to give you a warm smile.

“All right come here you little muffin.” Kim held out her arms with a smile.

You stepped forward into her embrace as she squeezed you tightly, she rocked the two of you from side to side eliciting a small giggle out of you. Hailey joined the hug with a laugh once Kim pulled her by the arm.

Antonio placed a hand on your shoulder once you, Hailey, and Kim pulled away, “I’m proud of you, kiddo.” He offered you a kind nod.

“So proud.” Kevin gave you one of his signature bear hugs.

“Okay, it’s my turn.” Adam squeezed his way to stand in front of you. Which caused everyone to laugh at his eagerness.

“I could never forget about you, Ruz.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he lifted your toes off the ground.

“Are we done yet? You guys are treating my sister like an attraction.” Jay sassed.

“You’re just mad that you only got to kiss me on the head and not a hug.” You retorted from leaning back into Brayden with a smirk.

“No, not true.” Jay shook his head with furrowed brows.

“Yup, totally jealous.” You nodded convinced.

“How did we go from a serious topic to Halstead and mini Halstead having a sarcasm battle?” Adam questioned with a confused expression.

“I learned to stop questioning it.” Brayden shrugged from behind you.

“It’s how we cope. Halstead thing, I guess.” You said with raised brows.

“Fair enough.” Jay sighed.

#chicago pd fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #request #one shot #one chicago #one chicago fanfiction #one chicago imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x sister!reader #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

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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17wishbones · 3 years

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Whew! It is now time to post the sequel for this little short series I made. Again, it’ll be no more than 7 chapters with the parts split if it’s a continuation. I’m super ecstatic to post this. I’ve been thinking, editing, and brainstorming ideas for this so I hope it reads well for you all. So please, come and enjoy KIMETSU DAIGAKU: SUNFLOWER’S BLESSING. The name may change in the future. Other than that, enjoy chapter 1! :> SN: All are welcome to read, but this is a POC reader insert, FYI. That is all! SN2: I studied Japanese for a time and studied abroad but that was years ago so excuse me if some of the written dialogue is rough. Wanted to show (reader) learning the language even if it’s real easy, conversational sentences. SN3: Rengoku in a button-up white shirt, khakis and a tie? *slams down credit card* - - - - - - - - Chapter I: RENGOKU-SENSEI, RENGOKU-SENSEI

Everyday, so far, was a surprise when it came to Rengoku.

You honestly didn’t know what to do with yourself. You had thought studying with Rengoku would be an after school sort of thing as you mingled in classes with other students but somehow, he was able to catch you from different periods for almost a whole week!

Mayamoto-sensei encouraged engagement with local students at the university so she allowed you to go with your new teacher everyday. Jealousy riled the others on how you were getting special treatment other than being the only brown-skinned girl on this trip.

It bothered you sometimes, because it wasn’t anything like that! But every greeting from Rengoku was positive and enthusiastic. He greeted you kindly in both English and Japanese. He taught you well, proving that he can be strict, attentive, and instructive. Then, at the end, he’d engage you in short conversations to see how well he was doing teaching you the language and how well you were catching on.

“You did great today, _____! You’ve already made great strides on your flow!”

“That’s because you’re a great teacher, Rengoku-sensei. You did have me sweating bullets the first few days, though. I didn’t think I would catch up.” You closed and put your notebook in your bag. “I feel bad because the others don’t like that I get one-on-one time with you like this.”

“Ah, they’re jealous, I see!” He crossed his arms over his chest, his smile forever wide. It was this pose that had you thinking this was déjà vu, but you don’t know why. “Then it can’t be helped! Don’t worry yourself about what they think!”

“I shouldn’t?”

“Nn!” He locked eyes with you again and spoke proudly with his chest out. “Set your heart ablaze and move onward!” An explosive aura filled the room and warmed your body. “No matter what anyone else says, you do what you think in your heart is right!”

Your heart beat fast and your stomach fluttered with butterflies. ‘Why does he look at me like that? Why does he make me feel this way?’ His burning gaze made you feel like he only saw you in his world, but you shook the thought away.

“Is there something on your mind, _____?”

Your eyes shifted, looking for anything else to say other than what was on your mind. It’d be weird to just be like, ‘hey, I like you and would jump your bones anytime!’ Instead, you found the clock and remembered. “I wanted to visit the flower shop, and see the flower arrangements. I saw one on my way to the girls’ dorm.”

“Let me accompany you!” Rengoku’s open offer made you blush. “I freed myself for the evening just in case!”

This shocked you. “W-what about your schoolwork?”

“I finished it all this morning before meeting with you!”

“And your… colorful friends??” You saw him speak with a few interesting people but he quickly came to you the moment you walked into the fray.

“I have already informed them of my plans this morning!” Your face cracked. He had an answer for everything! “I want to be a good teacher for you and help you as much as I can!”

“Why, Rengoku-sensei?” You asked, curious at what his reason could be.

“Because I like you, _____-chan!”

Your eyes almost popped out. ‘Like me? Like… ‘like me’ like me? Or just like being around me? Whew, boy, you need to stop playing with me because I don’t think my heart can take all of this!’

“Are you ready to go to the flower shop?”

“Y-Yes! Let me get my things, Rengoku-sensei.”

“Kyōjurō.” He corrected you.

“Oh! Kyōjurō…” you circled through the honorifics that he taught you, trying to remember which one was appropriate. “...-kun?”

“Hmm?” He sounded, wanting you to repeat yourself once more.

“Kyōjurō-kun, right?”

A small blush warmed his fair cheeks as he nodded in agreement. “Nn!” He hadn’t expected you to call him that fondly and it ignited his determination to get close to you. A month was not enough time, but he was going to make it work.

You both headed down the slope of the school, crossing a lone shop with beautiful arrangements set everywhere. You ‘ooh’ed and ‘awe’d at each flower that Rengoku named outloud. You repeated, of course. You felt like you were in your own heaven as you gazed at, touched, and smelled the flowers.

You were so happy.

What caught your eyes next were the large, golden blooms held high on long stalks. “Kyōjurō-kun,” he looked over and an overwhelming feeling washed over him when you stood next to the sunflowers, grinning from ear to ear as you asked him, “What’s a sunflower called?”

‘_____, if I could name them after you.’ He walked up next to you, bathing himself in your presence. “Himawari.”

“Himawari. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful flower.”

“I think so, too.” Rengoku wasn’t talking about the sunflower, however.

“Ah, konnichiwa,” you greeted the florist, “Kore wa ikura desu ka?” (How much is this?)

“Go-hyaku-jyuu yen desu.” (500 yen.)

“That’s like… 500 yen, yeah? I think I got it.” As you looked in your bag for the coins instead of breaking the 1000 yen bill.

“Arigatou gozaimasu!” (Thank you so much!) Rengoku bowed and received your wrapped sunflower before handing it to you. “Douzo, _____-chan!” (Here, _____!)

“Ah, Kyōjurō-kun, you didn’t have to buy it for me, but thank you so much!”

“Why wouldn’t I want to buy something for you?” He questioned as you both left the shop. “As I said, I like you, _____-chan! And I want to spend time with you outside of school.”

“Like… together?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, well, honestly, I’d be down for that! Since boys aren’t allowed in the girls dorm, where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”

“I want to kiss you,” he answered shamelessly, “Hold you, and never let you go!” You both made eye contact on the walk back. “Though, I have been holding myself back in case you didn’t like me.”

His words electrified you and he hadn’t even touched you yet in any way whatsoever. “It’s not like you’re handsome or anything…”

“You think I’m handsome?” He beamed suddenly.

You tried playing coy but this kind of mannerism didn’t work for you and, honestly, you liked Rengoku’s straightforwardness. “Yes, I do. When we first met, I liked you instantly. You made me feel so nervous and so excited at the same time.”

“Oh?” He thought for a moment. “Can I hold your hand?” He asked sweetly. “I don’t want you to feel nervous around me, only excited! Happy! Loved!”

“Are you sure that’s okay? Won’t people stare more than they already do at us?”

“I don’t care if they do or don’t! Let them stare! As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.” He gently linked his rough hands with your soft ones, locking them. “I feel I am the luckiest man alive right now because you’re here with me!”

“How many girls have you told that to?”

“Only you, my Sunflower!”

You choked on your own spit. “Your Sunflower? You’re so sure I’m not taken?”

“Yes and yes! I hope to have you for myself as well.”

“For my short time here?”

Rengoku shook his head. “Forever.”

‘Oh my god. Did he just charm his way into my heart?’ You felt the sincerity in his words and saw the genuity in his owlish eyes. “This all really feels like déjà vu.”

“Déjà vu?”

“Like this happened before. It’s… familiar.”

“Nn! It’s fate that we met as we did!”

‘Fate, huh?’ You didn’t notice that you arrived at the girls’ dorm. “Oh, we’re here!” You thought to loosen your hand from his but your arm suddenly didn’t work with you. He wasn’t letting go either. “Our plans tonight are…?”

“Nani o shitai desu ka?” (What do you want to do?)

“Uh!” Always catching you off guard like that kept you on your toes. Besides, practice made perfect. “Karaoke… ni ikitai desu yo!” (I want to go to Karaoke!)

“Nanji ni ikitai desu ka?” (What time do you want to go?)

Your thinking of literally translating what you wanted to say from English to Japanese made each response a little slow. It took time to gain fluency. “Hachiji ii desu ka?” (8 o’clock okay?)

“Close! “Hachiji de ii desu ka” but you did a great job nonetheless! And yes, 8 is fine with me.”

“So…” you felt reluctant to leave him now even if for a few hours, “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll wait for you to change and pack up some clothes!” You looked at him incredulously. “As I said, I want to kiss you, hold you, and never let you go! At least for a night!” Though he spoke his desire, ‘Am I asking too much from her all of a sudden? I can’t read the cute and twisted expressions on her face yet. It is her choice to—’

“Let’s do it!” Rengoku’s mouth dropped in surprise. “The dorm gates close at 9pm anyway, for whatever reason, while the boys are allowed to go out and do as they please with the gate open.” You huffed, annoyed. “Oh. Where do you live?”

“I live in an apartment 20 minutes down the road.”

“All by yourself?”

“Mhm! I can’t wait to show you! So be quick, Sunflower!” He happily guided you across the gate by the small of your back.

You held in your panic as you got a set of clothes for tomorrow, gathering what you could quickly so you didn’t cross the other students and was out and about with Rengoku as soon as possible.

Honestly, you barely avoided them as you came outside, took him by the hand, and rushed off. They were sure to talk about you, or maybe not at all. You had an over friendly and trusting disposition to a fault, but you were adventurous and open minded. - - - - - - - - - - - Chapters: 1 (Part 1)/ (Part 2)/ (Part 3) | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

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