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kawaii-angelanne · 2 years

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Tamaki Amajiki x Reader | Takoyaki Sprinkled With Love

fTW: all characters (except lunch rush, who is briefly mentioned) are in high school, but there is no explicit content of them!, tamaki gets insecure sometimes, very brief mirio x reader

KEY TAGS: love potion/spell au, pre-canon (spoiler free), reader has a quirk, strangers to best friends to lovers, fluff and angst, happy ending, misunderstandings, jealousy, pining, confessions, kissing

WORD COUNT: 16,791

CROSS POST: ao3

OPENING NOTE: thanks for clicking on this! please do not repost, copy, modify, or overall plagiarize this work anywhere else please. plagiarism is never acceptable, both in mla 8 format and in fanfiction! for translations, message me, and we can talk about it!

SUMMARY: "So, what does this have to do with your sudden hesitation? Well, you’ve been planning on filling these takoyaki with a crush-like feeling…for you. Don’t get the wrong idea! You don’t want to have the intended recipient of these takoyaki fall in love with you! You don’t even want a relationship with him! Well, you do, but you don’t hope to achieve that by giving these to him. No, you just wanted to see what it would feel like for him to reciprocate your feelings for only a week. The person you were hoping to give these can be pretty aloof, and you’re positive he doesn’t like you back. You don’t even think he’s interested in anyone like that. Who is this person? It’s Tamaki Amajiki, one of your best friends and fellow second year student at UA."

Or where you try to make Tamaki Amajiki fall in love with you through the power of your quirk and takoyaki to get over him, but things don't go to plan.

“Last one!”

After rotating the last takoyaki in the pan with a toothpick, you transfer it onto the small plate that was carrying the five other takoyaki, situating it on the very top of the pyramid to give it a more aesthetic appearance. Feeling the takoyaki looks naked without it, you quickly yet meticulously drizzle some takoyaki sauce and Japanese mayonnaise. Then, you sprinkle some dried green seaweed for a finishing touch. You wipe your forehead of sweat, feeling hot from being so close to the oven, which is two hundred degrees Celsius. You turn the knob to the left to turn off the stove and take a brief moment to admire your work.

Even though you’ve never cooked takoyaki before, you would say you did a pretty good job for your first time. While you do not know how it tastes yet, you had to at least give yourself a pat on the back for the delectable presentation. You only made a meager six takoyaki, a perfect sample size in case something went wrong. The takoyaki had managed to maintain most of its circular shape, and the sauce oozing off the sides of the takoyaki to the bottom of the plate would make anyone's mouth water, including your own. Don’t even mention the savory aroma dispensing throughout the room.

You move all of the leftover ingredients and cooking utensils to the far side of the counter. There is no one else in the home-ec room but you. Students in UA’s General Education Department rarely stay in the building past 4 p.m. unless they have clubs, unlike the students in the Heroes Department, who typically straggle in the training grounds until the sun sets. Cooking Club had meetings in Lunch Rush’s kitchen, so all home-ec classrooms are always available for your extensive use. You preferred cooking at UA because you enjoyed using their resources. UA has top-of-the-notch equipment for all of the departments, including the often overlooked General Education Department (your department pales in comparison to the more lustrous Heroes Department). You would be an idiot not to take advantage of that, so that’s why you’re here, utilizing your school’s resources instead of cooking in the comforts of your own home.

You engage in a staring contest with the takoyaki, heart pounding and hands sweating at the thought of what you have been planning to do with these octopus snacks. You see, your quirk is “Food Feeling.” It allows you to infuse whatever you cook with your feelings, which would then transfer onto the eater. So, for example, if you infuse happiness into these takoyaki, the eater would experience an added boost of happiness only for some time. Judging by the size of the takoyaki, you would say the effect of one takoyaki would last for only nine hours. While some emotions have an infinite capacity, such as love, most of them are finite, meaning you should keep in mind how often you use your quirk. If you use, again for example, too much happiness, you would be in a sad and despondent mood until you recover more happiness, which is done by doing things that make you happy.

So, what does this have to do with your sudden hesitation? Well, you’ve been planning on filling these takoyaki with a crush-like feeling…for you. Don’t get the wrong idea! You don’t want to have the intended recipient of these takoyaki fall in love with you! You don’t even want a relationship with him! Well, you do, but you don’t hope to achieve that by giving these to him. No, you just wanted to see what it would feel like for him to reciprocate your feelings for only a week. The person you were hoping to give these can be pretty aloof, and you’re positive he doesn’t like you back. You don’t even think he’s interested in anyone like that. Who is this person? It’s Tamaki Amajiki, one of your best friends and fellow second year student at UA.

Despite being in different departments, you somehow befriended Tamaki, Mirio Togata, and Nejire Hado. While Mirio is especially infamous for stripping naked in the school festival a few months ago, he and the others have been gradually gaining attention via their internships, and, from what you’ve been hearing, they have also been rising exponentially up the student ranks in the Heroes Department. All of UA’s departments share the same lunch time. Now, having more authority and capability as a second-year, when this school year first started, you had struck a deal with Lunch Rush where you can cook anything you want at UA and sell some of whatever you cooked every Thursday. In exchange, you would give half of your profits to UA. Anyways, your baked goods, particularly your “Confident Crêpes” and “Motivation Madeleines”, took off, and now you sell out in a matter of minutes. One day, Mirio bought some of your goods and, for a reason you have yet to know, invited you to sit with him, Tamaki, and Nejire at lunch.

“Sorry, guys, Mirio invited me to sit with him and his friends today,” you stand by the table in front of you instead of sitting down with your friends like you usually do, which puzzles them at first, “Would it be okay if I ate with them today?”

“Mirio? The one who was completely naked at the school festival?” your friend, Yaginuma Kyoko, scowls as her hair dips into the ramen broth.

“What does he want with you?” your other friend, Oshima Yoriyuki, asks you a question as well, despite his mouth being full.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, just as clueless as your friends, “I was just selling him some Energy Éclairs, and he invited me to eat with him, Nejire Hado, and Tamaki Amajiki!”

“Nejire and Tamaki as well?” Oshima finally swallows and gapes at you bug-eyed.

“What did Mirio even say?” Yaginuma ties her blonde hair back into a rushed ponytail, irritated by her hair falling into her bowl of noodles every time she leaned in to take a bite.

“Nothing crazy,” you recall the eleven words he said to you (yes, you remembered exactly what he said and counted how many words there were to make sure that what had happened was real), “He simply asked, ‘Hey, do you want to eat lunch with me and my friends?’”

“Sounds like something Mirio would say,” your blonde friend concludes, and the both of you look at her with questionable faces.

“You know him or something?” Oshima raises a brow since he’s never seen her with the hero student (the same goes for you).

“No, it just sounds like something he would do,” she slurps down her noodles before elaborating, “He’s characterized as this very friendly and lighthearted guy, or so I hear.”

“Ah,” he then shoos you away with his hands, urging you to leave, “Well, what are you waiting for then? Go ahead! We’ll see you in class later!”

“Are you sure?” you worry for your friends, scared of hurting their feelings if you left them.

“Yeah, and get Miro’s number for me!” Yaginuma calls out before continuing her meal, “Haven’t forgotten those rippling abs and those—.”

“You’re absolutely disgusting,” Oshima shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Yeah, I will not be doing that,” you roll your eyes and wave them goodbye, “Thanks for understanding! I promise to eat with you guys tomorrow! See you in class!”

With affirmations from Oshima and Yaginuma, you make your way over to where the Heroes Department is supposed to be seated (while the departments can eat with each other, they mainly keep to their own sectors). You feel a little anxious and, to be honest, awkward joining Mirio and his friends. You’ve never interacted with any of them before today, let alone talked to them. Also, lately, they’re starting to be considered celebrities in your school, even in the General Education Department. While some may also consider you to be well-known due to your part-time business at UA, sitting with them feels above your paygrade.

Before you know it, you’re less than thirty centimeters from the table, and you feel your palms begin to sweat from nervousness. Mirio and Tamaki are sitting next to each other while Nejire sits across from them with an empty seat next to her and closer to the outside. Tamaki quietly eats his food and listens attentively to Mirio and Nejire’s boisterous badinage with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. Before you could say anything, Mirio looks over to you and stands up from his seat so suddenly, his chair is pushed far back and almost into the partition behind him, startling his lunchtime companions.

“(L/N)!” he greets you with a volume you aren’t ready for and gestures to the seat across from Tamaki, “Come, have a seat! Nejire, Tamaki, this is the person who sold those Energy Éclairs and all those other treats. (L/N), these are my friends, Nejire and Tamaki!”

“H-hi!” you curse yourself for stuttering and swallow down your trepidation, prepared to give a more confident introduction, “A-as Mirio said, my name is (L/N) (Y/N)! I’m from the General Education Department. It’s nice to meet you guys!”

You look around the table to survey everyone else’s reactions, and your stomach sinks at Tamaki’s reaction. Tamaki gives you a very intense glare—so intense that it freezes you in place—but then wilts like a dying flower and stares down at his lunch tray. Mirio, who notices him cower right away, slaps him on the back and tells him that he has nothing to fear. You can’t tell if Tamaki is annoyed or uncomfortable by your appearance (probably both) and feel bad that you had intruded on their lunch. Before you can ask Mirio for a raincheck, Nejire pulls you down to your chair with a force strong enough that you practically fall onto the chair with a clatter.

“(L/N), right? I’m Nejire Hado!” she shakes your hand aggressively in a comedic way with an opulent smile, “I’m sorry if Mirio ruined any plans you had. He tends to be spontaneous like that.”

“What’s so bad about inviting a new friend?” Mirio lets out a hearty laugh, but no one does the same (not in a mean way, it seemed).

Nejire gleams at you with sparkles of keen interest in her periwinkle eyes and leans in closer to you as if she’s observing a scientific specimen in a lab, “So, (L/N), tell me about your quirk! What’s it called? What does it do? Are there any limitations?”

“Don’t scare her off already,” the blonde hero-student softly chastises and gives you an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry. Nejire here has a rather curious personality, so she asks a lot of questions, even blunt ones.”

“It’s all right,” you adjust yourself on the chair, and your nerves slow down to a calming pace as you’ll talk about a topic you’re quite familiar with, “My quirk is called ‘Food Feeling.’ I know it’s not that creative, but I have no idea what else to call it, haha! Basically, I can put my feelings into any food I cook through physical contact. So, for example, your Energy Éclairs. I made those éclairs myself and touched them to give them that energizing feeling. And, don’t worry, I wore gloves. Sanitation is a primary concern for me! However, if I do it too much, again, in this case with that energizing feeling, I would feel tired as my energy would be depleted.”

“Ohhh,” Nejire places a finger near her lips and thinks of more questions to ask, “So, your quirk can pervade clothing? What about other materials? Does it need to be your hands specifically?”

“I haven’t really tested out different materials, but,” you observe your palms to visualize how thin a material can be in order for your quirk to work, “I would say the material separating me and the food would have to be less than five centimeters. It doesn’t have to be my hand, but I don’t think anyone would want to eat food that was in contact with my foot or something.”

“Right, and—!”

“Nejire, let them eat first,” Tamaki shocks you by speaking for the first time since you came here; he doesn’t lift his head, though, and continues eating.

“N-no, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” you unzip your lunch bag and take out your thermos, unscrewing the lid to uncover what was inside, “I’m comfortable with talking about my quirk, and it’s a good way for you guys to get to know more about me.”

“Yeah, see, Tamaki?” Nejire holds a triumphant smile on her face, happy to be able to ask more questions, “Since Mr. ‘Don’t Ask Anymore Questions’ is here, I’ll just ask these last few for now. How exactly does your quirk work? Is there a time limit? Can you, like, make people have certain thoughts?”

“Well,” you take a moment to think about it to be able to explain it in lay person’s terms as how your quirk works can be difficult to understand to some, “Can I borrow your éclair for a second?”

Nejire promptly gives it to you, also giving you her complete attention, and you begin to use it as an example, “When someone eats something that was affected by my quirk, they don’t feel it from nothing. That emotion is added onto theirs. So, again with the whole energy example, if the eater has no energy in their system, eating this eclair would only give them some energy. The size is proportional to the effect. The bigger the food, the more of the emotion they would experience. Time is also proportional to size. An éclair like this would only give energy for about…twelve hours. And, as for the thoughts thing, I’m not exactly sure. Some emotions, like confidence, would give the eater different thoughts about themself, but I don’t think I can make them think a certain type of way, if you know what I mean. I haven’t tried, so, I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I don’t think I could make someone fall in love with me or something, haha!”

“Such a cool quirk! There are so many questions I want to ask you!” she reaches outward, wanting something from you, “Give me your phone, so I can text you!”

“O-oh, of course!” your heartbeat picks up at the idea of having Nejire Hado’s phone number in your phone.

You unlock your phone and hand it to her, which she snatches in an instant.

Her fingers dart across the digital keyboard as she types in her contact, and, after a quick snapshot of her face, she gives you your phone back, “Here you go! While I was putting in my number, I just thought of another question! Last one, pinky promise!”

You laugh at her extreme interest in your quirk and pocket your phone away, “Sure, what is it?”

“Can your bodily liquids also transfer emotions to food, like sweat or pee?” she asks so nonchalantly as though she is merely commenting on the sunny weather outside.

“Nejire, why?” Tamaki sags more towards the table and lunch tray, his own way of burying his face in his hands at Nejire’s question.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” she acts like she didn’t just ask such a strange question and turns back to you for your response.

“Uh…” you’re taken aback by the sudden change in questioning, not wanting to imagine such a thing, “I’m not sure, and I don’t think I want to try to find out, haha!”

You check on Tamaki to see how he’s doing. Aside from his brief remarks, Tamaki hasn’t said anything else. You glimpse at him, not wanting to make him even more uncomfortable by blatantly staring instead. He’s still staring down at his lunch tray with…shaky eyes? That’s the best way to describe it. His lips also curve downward into a twitchy frown. His lunch is hardly touched, and you begin to wonder if it was you or something else that’s making him so uneasy. It’s most likely because of you, but….

“Tamaki?” you call out his name with a hand partly reaching out in concern (you don’t want to reach too far out and burst his personal space bubble), “Are you okay?”

The indigo-haired hero-student flinches as if he wasn’t expecting for you to talk to him, and finally looks up to make eye contact with you before flickering his gaze elsewhere, “Sorry…I’ve been trying to imagine you as a carrot this whole time, so I would be able to talk to you…but I still can’t think of anything to say. Mirio and Nejire are better at conversation anyways.”

“Oh, don’t be like that Tamaki!” Mirio whacks him again on the back, and Tamaki coughs violently from the impact, “You have lots of good things to say! You just have to be more confident about yourself.”

“The carrot didn’t work this time? How about a piece of broccoli?” Nejire suggests another vegetable for him to imagine.

“The vegetable doesn’t matter,” Tamaki dismisses the idea and returns to his lunch, “It’s just weird to see someone as a vegetable with a human body.”

“Then include the body with the vegetable imagery,” Nejire shrugs as if there is nothing more that could be done.

You frown at the predicament, knowing what it’s like to be nervous in the presence of new people. Not only were you like that mere moments before you sat down (Nejire and Mirio’s enthusiasm helped you feel more comfortable and at ease with them), but it was also like that in grade school when you introduced yourself to the entire class that one time you transferred. It’s not the greatest, and you wish you could do something to help without being too intrusive.

You glance at your lunchbag and come up with an idea when you see the bun you baked this morning when preparing your lunch, as you always do. You take the baked good out of its container and contemplate what feeling you should use: confidence or calmness?

You muster an appropriate amount of calmness and, after using your quirk on the pastry, gingerly offer it to your schoolmate in front of you, “Here, Tamaki. I used my quirk on this, so you should feel calmer after eating it.”

He stares at it incredulously, and you begin to worry if you overstepped…or if it was because of your hands, “S-sorry, I should have washed my hands before I did that! You don’t have to eat it. I-I’ll just…”

You stop digging your grave any deeper and effectively stop talking. If he doesn’t respond within the next three seconds, you’re going to excuse yourself from this table and never come back. Maybe even transfer schools entirely.

“No, it’s not that,” his lips slide into an unsure slant, and his brows furrow with guilt, “You made that bun yourself, so you deserve it more than I do.”

With that poor excuse, you now urge him to take it from you, “Oh, that’s not true! You deserve this bun just as much as I do. Besides, I can make this anytime I want. Please, take it.”

After a moment of deep consideration, he takes the treat from you and slowly takes a bite. You watch him cautiously and pray that he likes it, or, at the very least, doesn’t think it’s bad since you made that yourself. When he finishes his first bite, his eyes widen but not in the same way as when they first glared at you; it’s more out of surprise, which you can’t tell if that was a good thing or not. He then takes another bite, and the quirk visibly starts to work. His shoulders slowly fall and loosen from their previously stiff and mountain-high level. His posture straightens from his slump. His head also gradually rises upward, his eyes moving on from his lunch tray to you and the others.

“How was it?” you ask, relieved and pleased to see your quirk taking effect.

“Yeah, describe how you feel right now!” Nejire excitedly adds in like she’s ready to take notes and jot down some observations.

“I feel a lot more calmer,” he looks at himself in disbelief and then directly at you, which almost makes you flinch in your seat as he’s had very fleeting glimpses at you but nothing more than that, “Not only that, the bun was a lot better than I was expecting. I mean, I knew it would taste good since I’ve had your other treats, but I didn’t think something so simple would be so delicious. Thank you, (L/N).”

“Of course,” you blush at the compliment, still not used to people giving you praise for your cooking, “I also understand what it’s like to feel anxious meeting new people, so I figured giving you something to calm you down would be best. Also, you don’t need to feel so nervous talking to me! As someone who can also be nervous talking to new people, I relate.”

He gives you nothing more than an eased expression, but you interpret it as an agreement to be less nervous around you without the use of your quirk.

“Aw, Tamaki’s all grown up!” Mirio wipes fake tears from his eyes to imitate a proud father, “Look at him making friends!”

“Quit it, Mirio,” he inwardly groans and gets embarrassed at Mirio’s faux display of paternal affection.

The rest of you laughed, and Nejire asks him more questions about your bun. You continue to eat your lunch, hoping to finish before the lunch period ends, and delightfully watch the interrogation before you as though it’s a TV show. The thought of sitting with them at lunch from now on filled you with anticipation and excitement for tomorrow’s lunch. Well, more like the day after tomorrow. You did promise your friends that you would sit with them tomorrow in exchange, which doesn’t make you upset or disappointed. You would just have to wait for the day after, and what’s stopping you from getting their numbers now to keep in contact outside of lunch? Wait, would that be too soon? But you have Nejire’s number already. Then again, she asked you.

Before you could let this mere debate escalate into a moral dilemma, Mirio asks for your number and asks for Tamaki. After all, a calm bun isn’t going to completely change Tamaki into this confident, more proactive person. You have no problem giving them your number and type it in their phones, happy to soon have more people in your contact list. As you give back the phones, you hope that this one encounter will establish a strong, long lasting friendship between the four of you.

Since then, you’ve gotten closer to the trio, especially Tamaki. You can’t pinpoint the exact reason why you felt so drawn to him when you two first met, and, as you get to learn more about him, you come up with more and more possibilities. Maybe it’s because you can relate to his social anxiety. It could be because his quirk is food-related just like yours. Is it because of his keen insight and admiration for others’ hard work? Or maybe it’s because of this calm ambience he possesses despite being a rather frantic person. Actually, that might be how you came to acquire this unfortunate crush on him.

Not too long after your first luncheon with them, Mirio added you to a group chat with him, Tamaki, and Nejire in it. This group chat helped you become closer to them, especially through the countless video calls Mirio starts almost every other night. Through those calls, you got to know more about everyone and noticed that you had a lot in common with Tamaki. From there, you began to send him memes and other pictures that reminded you of him. As the days passed, your text conversations became longer and longer, evolving from simple memes to talking about how your days went to reminiscing grade school memories. This wasn’t when you began to have a crush on him, though. Not yet.

There was one night where you just wanted some company but didn’t want to talk to anyone; you just wanted to be in someone else’s presence while you did other things, like homework or playing video games. Only one person came to mind when you were wondering who you could call: Tamaki Amajiki. He wasn’t as talkative as your other friends, and you felt close enough to be in a private call with him. You texted him, asking if it would be okay. After seeing the typing bubble fade in and out of view for a couple of minutes, he finally agreed, and you tapped the “Call” button after reading that text. He asked you if you were okay, and you told him why you wanted to call him. He said that he understood and, in a less confident tone, that you could talk to him about anything if you felt comfortable. You remember your heart skipping a beat and feeling extremely grateful for this display of concern.

You took him up on that offer, and, every now and then, you go on private calls with Tamaki. Sometimes, the two of you just bask in each other’s presence, even if both of your cameras are off. Other times, you tell him about your day, and he would either listen attentively or tell you a little bit about his day as well. However, texting is still your primary method of having conversations; you figured texting would be more convenient for him.

Anyways, last month close to Valentine’s Day, Nejire started talking about crushes and dating during lunch. After lamenting over the lack of love in her life, she turned to you and asked about your love life. You were flustered at the sudden spotlight on you and tried to answer her wide range of questions, from your sexuality to if you had dated anyone before. At this point, you’re already used to Nejire’s inquisitive yet sometimes intrusive behavior, but it doesn’t make answering her questions any easier. She then asked if you had a crush on anyone, which you immediately denied. She wiggled her eyebrows, gestured to Mirio and Tamaki, who were innocently eating their own lunches, and asked if you had a crush on either of them (whether she asked as a joke or not, you’ll never know). Embarrassed from her question, Tamaki’s cheeks flushed a bright, glowing red from the neck up and moved his gaze away from you. Meanwhile, Mirio laughed awkwardly, diving himself into his lunch and eating more ferociously. You, more hastily and urgently, told her again that you don’t have a crush on anyone, including them.

Being the little instigator she is, Nejire brought up how you had private video chats with Tamaki. You looked at her in absolute shock as you didn’t know how she knew that. It’s not that you didn’t want anyone to know; you just didn’t feel the need to tell anyone. It shouldn't be that strange for two friends to go on a video call with just the two of them anyways. Looking to Tamaki for an explanation, he looked just as surprised as you were and, this time, fully facing the partition to him out of pure mortification. Mirio stopped furiously eating his lunch and perked up at this new information. Before Nejire could press you more on the matter, Mirio graciously stopped her by changing subjects, which you silently thanked him for.

When you got home, you recalled what Nejire was suggesting and spent the majority of the day reflecting on your relationship with Tamaki. As you thought more and more about him, your stomach would fill with fluttering butterflies, and you would begin to feel feverish. Dismissing these feelings as a result of winter transitioning into spring and all the pollen that comes with it, you had successfully managed to deny that any feeling you had for Tamaki was anything other than strictly platonic for the first few days. However, when you went on another call with him one night, with those thoughts Nejire implanted inside your mind, you succumbed to the sad reality: you have a crush on your best friend.

It’s been only two weeks since this revelation, and your second year is almost over, entering its third and final term. After coming to the conclusion that you have a crush on Tamaki, you only have two options: 1) confess your feelings, which are sure to end up rejected or 2) get over him. Finding option two much more favorable, you contrived only two grand plans on how to go about this: 1) cut him off entirely, which meant you would also have to cut off Mirio and Nejire or 2) get Tamaki to have feelings for you and enjoy it while it lasts to make your crush go away. Clearly, you didn’t want to use the first method, so you decided to use the unconventional and very specific second method obtained from fanfiction. How? Well, as you explained earlier, you plan to give Tamaki these takoyaki supplemented with romantic feelings for you, so you could experience what it would be like for him to like you back. Then, after the effects wear off, you would be satisfied and move on.

Is this ethical? No, probably not. Will you possibly get even stronger feelings for him? Yeah, probably. Does this actually work? Half of the time! Does it work only because the person had a crush on the other person the entire time, so they end up in a romantic relationship? Perhaps! There’s also the chance that the romantic feelings won’t transfer over since your quirk, as far as you know, only allows you to transfer feelings, not feelings about a certain thing or person. Nevertheless, this will one hundred percent work with a ninety-nine percent chance of error!

Before you can question your actions again for the umpteenth time, you let out a deep breath and wash your hands. After slipping on some gloves, you place your hands on the takoyaki in front of you in such a way that you would be able to transfer these crush feelings in one go. Miraculously, you don’t burn from how hot the takoyaki was earlier; did it already cool down in such a short amount of time?

You close your eyes and imagine Tamaki to help better channel these feelings into the takoyaki. Even the mere thought of him boosts your body temperature by two degrees or more.

Indigo-colored hair. Raisin black eyes. Slim stature.

Walking through the park with Tamaki. Cooking up breakfast inside your kitchen with him.

Before your mind transcends to more scenarios with more detail, you stop using your quirk, so you don’t end up filling these takoyaki with very intense feelings. After all, you don’t want Tamaki to obsess over you.

As you admire your craftsmanship, the door to the home-ec room abruptly slides open, and you let out a squeal, your heart practically leaping out of your chest.

“Hey, (L/N)!” Mirio yells out while marching proudly into the room, approaching your lone figure, and Nejire and Tamaki file in behind him.

“M-Mirio!” you shout, not expecting him or anyone else to find you here at all and taking the takoyaki behind your back to hide it, “Wh-what’re you guys doing here?”

“Sorry for intruding,” Tamaki apologizes and stands diagonally behind Mirio, looking out of place with his hands in his pockets, “I told Mirio to just call you, but he thought that you wouldn’t answer. So, he asked where you were, and we ended up here.”

“We wanted to hangout today!” Mirio answers with a thumbs up and a big smile, “None of us have any internship duties, and we just finished our training. It’s Friday, so we can worry about homework on Sunday night. Are you free?”

“Uh…” you wonder if you have anything going on today and conclude that you don’t, “Yes, I should be! What did you have in mind?”

Before Mirio could list off some ideas, Nejire goes behind you to see what you’re hiding and takes the plate of takoyaki from your hands, showing it to everyone, “(Y/N), are these takoyaki?”

“N-Nejire!” you try to take the plate back from her, but she evades you with ease, “Y-yes, but those are affected by my quirk! You shouldn’t eat them!”

She lets out an “ooo” sound and inspects them from bottom to top, “What did you put in them?”

“Wh-what did I p-put in them?” you start to panic and say the first feeling you can think of, “H-happiness! T-they’re ‘Happiness Takoyaki!’”

“Huh, that doesn’t follow the alliteration you usually use,” Nejire eyes you suspiciously and charily places the plate of takoyaki back down, “Also, why are you stuttering so much? Are you hiding something, (L/N)?”

“N-no!” you stutter again and swallow, collecting your thoughts and trying to keep yourself in check, “No, I’m not hiding anything. I-it’s my first time making takoyaki. I’m also experimenting with something, so I don’t want you guys to eat them in case something happens, s-sorry.”

“‘Experimenting’?” Nejire tilts her head and doesn’t ask you what your experiment was, surprisingly, “Well, they look great for your first time! Why don’t we try some to give you feedback and help you with your experiment?”

“Yeah, they look tasty, and I could use a post-workout snack!” Mirio reaches out for one, but you take the plate away before he could take one.

You click your tongue at them like a parent scolding their children for reaching far inside the depths of the cookie jar, “Again, first time making them and experimenting. I don’t want to risk anything, especially with you three.”

Nejire pouts but then comes up with an idea, as seen when her face lights up, “I got it! Have only one of us try it. If anything happens, it’ll only affect one of us, and you can create an antidote to countermand any unwanted effects.”

“An antidote?” your grip around the plate loosens, and you listen to what she’s suggesting.

“Yeah! You could cook something and infuse that with sadness to reverse your quirk,” she turns to Tamaki, who flinches and then tries to shrink in the background due to the sudden attention on him, “Tamaki, isn’t takoyaki your favorite?”

“...Yes,” he timidly answers, scared as to where this is going.

“Why don’t you try for us?” Nejire smiles politely, even though you can feel a forceful aura from her.

“Huh?” Tamaki becomes more alert and wide-eyed, “Why?”

“Because you like takoyaki!” she reasons as if her line of thinking is flawless, “Besides, it’s made by (L/N)!”

What is that supposed to mean?

You realize that this is a great way to start your “Get Over Tamaki” plan but don’t want to force Tamaki into eating these right now (you were planning on just giving them to him as a gift), “Tamaki, you don’t have to eat these if you don’t want to. You can have one, but only if you want to.”

“Oh, so you’re fine with giving Tamaki your takoyaki but not us,” Nejire nudges you in the side, and you ignore her, fighting the urge to nudge her out the window.

He appears to contemplate whether he should take a takoyaki or not. After shifting eyes between the floor and plate of takoyaki, he swipes one from the pyramid and eats it quickly in one bite. It was so fast that, if you had blinked, you would have missed it. With bated breath, you wait for his reaction and observe his careful chews. As every second passes, your hands get sweatier and sweatier (you remove your gloves from discomfort, but the sweat makes it difficult), anxious yet hopeful for what’s about to happen.

“So, how’s it taste? Feel any happier?” Nejire asks while resting her chin on her hands on the counter, putting a suspicious emphasis on “happier.”

After chewing a couple of more times and, at last, swallowing, he thinks about what to say but doesn’t seem all too ready to give his opinion.

“Y-yeah, you can say whatever you want!” you encourage him, wanting to see if your quirk actually worked.

He wraps a hand around his arm, a telltale sign that he is unsure in what he is about to say, and has difficulty with looking you in the eyes, “Well…the takoyaki was really tasty…which of course it was since you made it! However, I don’t feel any happier…. Sorry, it probably doesn't work on me. I’m sure if Mirio or Nejire tried them, it would work.”

“D-don’t think like that, Tamaki,” You resist the urge to clutch your chest to prevent your heart from jumping out like a fish leaping out of its bowl, “This is an experiment, so it’s most likely my fault. W-what do you feel then?”

Tamaki takes some time to think and puts his thoughts together, “Like I appreciate myself more.”

You deadpan at his reaction as that was not what you expected, “Huh?”

“Did you make ‘Love Yourself Takoyaki’ by accident?” Nejire asks while taking a takoyaki for herself and rolling it between her fingers.

“I don’t think so,” you try to keep a calm air about you when you’re actually freaking out over Tamaki’s report, unsure what went wrong, “Y-you guys shouldn’t try this then. If Tamaki got this unintended effect, who knows what will happen for you guys?”

“Fine,” Nejire huffs out, upset that she wasn’t able to try your creation.

Mirio’s stomach growls loudly, which he lets out a sheepish chuckle about, “Well, why don’t we go get something to eat together? I still need that post-workout snack.”

You hear Mirio and Nejire make their way out of the classroom, discussing possible places to eat at. You stare at the takoyaki, wondering what went wrong. As you’re about to scrape the takoyaki into the trash with immense pity for their fate, Tamaki calls out to you.

“(L/N), I’m sorry your takoyaki didn’t work like you wanted,” he pauses before speaking, making you wonder what he’s about to say, “You don’t have to throw out the takoyaki. They were really good, and it would be a waste for them to end up in the trash.”

“Thanks, Tamaki,” you avoid his eyes to prevent yourself from furiously blushing, “but who’s going to eat it? I can’t give it to anyone because I don’t want them to be at risk of something bad happening to them. I could eat them myself, but—.”

“I can take them,” he interrupts you, which is very rare for him to do, “That is, if you don’t mind. They were really delicious, and we know that these takoyaki do nothing bad to me. I should be fine if I eat them.”

You remember what the takoyaki were originally meant for, but, since Tamaki is clearly not in love with you as intended, you don’t see the harm in it, “Okay, let me put this in a container for you. There should be one lying around here.”

As you go through the cabinets, closing and opening different doors, you find a stack of empty foil trays with their clear plastic lids next to them. You transfer the takoyaki precariously with a toothpick from the plate to the tray while Tamaki silently watches you. Mirio and Nejire come back, who finally noticed that you two weren’t following them.

“Come on, you two,” Mirio groans at the doorway, leaning weakly against it to exaggerate his state of hunger, “I’m starving!”

“Yeah, what were you doing here anyways?” Nejire has a mischievous smile about her like she knows exactly what happened here.

“I’m just packing this away for Tamaki, and I still need to put away all of these pans and stuff,” you fold the edges of the foil around the lid to seal it shut and pass it over to Tamaki, “Have you guys decided where we’re going?”

Mirio happily tells you and Tamaki the list he and Nejire made up, but you’re barely listening. As you put away various cooking utensils and ingredients, you only have one question in your mind.

Why didn’t it work?

The same hour of the following Monday, you’re back at it in the same home-ec room on the sixth floor with the same plate of takoyaki asking yourself the same question. You haven’t used your quirk on the takoyaki yet, so you stare at it in hopes of coming up with a solution to your problem. Over the weekend, you asked your family if any type of food cancels your quirk or has some effect on it. They said that there shouldn’t be, so the takoyaki itself shouldn’t be the issue.

You recall what Tamaki said after eating the takoyaki. He said that he felt more appreciative of himself, but he was supposed to have a crush on you instead. What is the connection between these two? Even though you ponder it for about five minutes, running over a series of possibilities and repeating questions at least three times over, you still do not have an answer. You impatiently conclude that you didn’t put enough “crush” feeling in the takoyaki and would just have to put some more in this time.

Sighing, this means Tamaki really doesn’t harbor any feelings for you. Again, your quirk only adds the feeling to how much of that feeling the eater feels. If Tamaki didn’t show any signs of having a crush on you despite eating that crush-filled takoyaki, then he doesn’t have any romantic feelings for you. You already know that, but it still hurts and crushes the minute hope you had.

These sad feelings might affect the takoyaki when you use your quirk on them, so you take a deep breath and exhale. Blue skies in, gray clouds out, as Yaginuma once told you. You do your routine of washing your hands and wearing the familiar blue gloves. Cracking your knuckles and ready to put as much crush as possible into these takoyaki, you place your hands on the takoyaki and summon Tamaki in your mind.

Suddenly, one of the doors opens, and the sound of it sliding open scares you. You lift your hands up as if you’re on a cooking show, and the judge yells, “Hands up!”

“(L/N)?” a familiar voice calls out your name, and you turn around frantically to identify who just came in.

Tamaki closes the door behind him and stuffs his hands in his pockets when making your way over to you. You sigh with relief when you find out that it’s only Tamaki but then start to panic again because it’s Tamaki.

“T-Tamaki!” you exclaim and try to calm yourself at the unexpected visit, “Y-you scared me! What’re you doing here? Where’s Mirio and Nejire?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologizes and glances over at the takoyaki in front of you, “Mirio and Nejire are busy doing hero work at their internships. Fat Gum is out of town, so I don’t have any work for now. Nejire said that you were still working on your takoyaki and sent me over to help since she couldn’t.”

“Oh, she didn’t have to do that,” you busy yourself with the takoyaki to distract yourself from him and his visage, “I’ll be okay on my own, thank you. I’m sure you want to go home like you always say, haha!”

“No, it’s okay,” he concentrates on the ground with uncertainty and doubt, “I don’t mind helping you out. I have nothing better to do…that is, if you don’t mind having me here. Sorry, I’m sure having someone around like Mirio would be more fun…”

“Oh, Tamaki,” you rush to comfort Tamaki and leave the takoyaki alone, knowing how insecure he can get, “Don’t think like that. I wouldn’t want anyone else here with me, promise! I just didn’t want to make you stay here longer than you had to. You’re more than welcome to help me out, if you want.”

He raises his head to look at you and then rapidly redirects his gaze back to the takoyaki, “Thanks. So, what is it exactly you need help with?”

“Well,” you check out your takoyaki again and think of a way to implicitly explain what you’re hoping to achieve with these treats, “I’m trying to get these takoyaki to make the eater feel a certain way. I was hoping to give these to a certain person today, but I can’t give them if they’re not working like I wanted them to.”

“Who’re you planning to give these to?” Tamkai asks innocently, and you’re left to come up with a lie on the spot.

As seen already, lying isn’t your strong suit. It was hard enough having to lie to Nejire on Friday. Lying to Tamaki is a thousand times worse! If he pushed you hard enough, you would cave in instantaneously like butter in a microwave for less than five seconds. Of course, he probably wouldn’t, but even seeing him has the same effect!

“W-well,” you stammer, hoping to stall for time, “It’s f-for…for…a s-secret someone! S-sorry, I can’t tell you!”

“Oh,” he curls in on himself like a rolly polly (the feeling of guilt immediately crawls on your back, also like a rolly polly), “And what’re you trying to make them feel? Happiness, right?”

“A-ah, yup! H-happiness indeed!” you feel your hands secrete sweat and attempt to covertly wipe them on your uniform bottoms.

Tamaki initiates eye contact with you, so you, not only fight the blood rushing to the sides of your face, surrender and tell him the truth (well, most of the truth), as predicted, “S-sorry, I really can’t tell you who it’s for. But…promise not to judge me for this?”

Receiving a quiet nod in response, you inhale deeply before beginning to recount your grand master plan without mentioning Tamaki’s role in it, “These takoyaki…. I’m trying to inject them with romantic feelings. I’m not trying to make the eater feel lovey-dovey for just anyone or everyone. I’m trying to make them have a crush…on me.”

He allows you to continue for further elaboration, so you do so to defend yourself and make yourself come off as less sleazy, “D-don’t get me wrong! I-I’m not trying to make this person fall in love with me forever and ever! I just…. I want to see what it would feel like for them to reciprocate my feelings. Only for a week, that’s it!”

After finishing your story, you brace yourself for any possible backlash over your actions and their unethicality. You even shut your eyes tight, fearful of what he has to say. At this very moment, you’ve decided that, if Tamaki expresses any disapproval, you’ll stop with the plan and live the rest of your life in total agony and hopelessly watch him get married to someone else and adopt five cats out of solitude and then—.

“O-oh,” he simply lets out, which is not the censuring reaction you were expecting, “…but I don’t think that person would want takoyaki. I think they would rather want ramen.”

“H-huh?” you open your eyes and suddenly worry that he knows the takoyaki were for him all along, “D-do you know who I’m giving these to?”

His face presents a conflicted expression, brows crinkled deeply and glower refusing to leave the linoleum floor, and he hesitates to answer your question, “...No, sorry, forget what I said.”

“A-all right,” you comply, not wanting to press him about it anymore and somehow end up having to tell him that the takoyaki are for him, “B-but yeah, that’s what these takoyaki are for. Do you…still want to help me?”

“Of course,” he pulls one of the bar stools tucked underneath the counter table and sits himself on it, “So, have you used your quirk on these yet?”

“No, I tried to figure out what I did wrong, but I came up with nothing,” you sigh and recline back on the counter behind you, “I was thinking of just putting more ‘crush’ feeling than last time and see if that helps. After all, since my quirk only adds to the eater’s feelings, it might be due to the romantic feelings you don’t have for me, haha…”

Tamaki’s cheeks go ablaze at the insinuation, and you’re eager to move on, not wanting to dwell on the fact that he doesn’t have any feelings for you at all, “A-anyways, I’ll start using my quirk on these. Are you sure you want to help me out with this? You might end up having a temporary crush on me, and we both know Nejire would have an absolute riot with that, haha!”

His laughter sounds like charming wind chimes, and he turns even redder, which gets your heart pumping straightaway, “She would…but I’m willing to go through that if this works.”

You let him know of your gratitude with a smile and refocus your attention on the takoyaki. Encapsulating the takoyaki with your hands like you did before, you take a deep breath in and out. You close your eyes and repeat the same ritual from Friday, rehashing the same scenarios. Thoughts of Tamaki and you flood your mind, blissfully swirling about like red wine in a fancy, tall, crystal glass.

Indigo-colored hair. Lazily running your fingers through his hair. Raisin black eyes. Intimately staring into each other’s eyes and drinking them in, etching the very sight into your memory. Slim stature. Wrapping yourself against his lithe body and embracing him tightly. Lean muscles capable of carrying at least twice his weight. Being carried in his arms, held tightly to ensure you don’t fall off. A black sleeveless turtleneck hugging tightly across his chest. Said turtleneck stripped to reveal the result of hours upon hours of hard workouts.

Walking through the park with a pair of butterflies flying about you two, chancely imagery to symbolize you and Tamaki. Maneuvering about a kitchen you two share, making a late Sunday breakfast for just the two of you. Tamaki, under the pseudo “Suneater,” swinging in from out of nowhere to save you from unpredicted dangers.

Whoa, you don’t know if it’s because Tamaki is in the room with you, but your imagination is running wild today!

Deeming it enough, you stop using your quirk and open your eyes only to find those raisin black irises you were fantasizing about earlier staring right back at you. Tamaki falls back from surprise, almost stumbling to the ground if the counter behind him wasn’t there. He regains his composure and can’t meet your gaze, his eyes fidgeting all over the room. You’re too stunned to do anything, and, even without a mirror, you can tell your face changed from your skin tone to a mute red. Was he looking at you the whole time?

“S-sorry! I d-didn’t mean—!” Tamaki struggles with what to say while you’re having an internal crisis, all of your systems short circuiting inside of you, “I-it’s just…y-you looked s-so—!”

He stops talking right there, a blushing, stuttering mess, and you feel as though you’ve been cheated out of a good deal. You can’t force him to say what he was going to, so you have no choice but to drop it, no matter how much you want to know what he was going to say. Also, with the state he’s in, you doubt he can give you a coherent answer.

“I-it’s all right, Tamaki,” you relieve yourself from the tightness of the gloves and slide the plate of takoyaki closer to him, “H-here, I finished. Could you try them out for me?”

Like a tentative kitten, he approaches the takoyaki and cautiously takes one from the pile. He, again, places the whole thing in his mouth. It’s not that surprising; these takoyaki are bite-sized. Chewing it a couple of times, he finally swallows, his eyes downcast.

“S-so?” you ask, wringing your hands from nervousness, “How is it? Feel any different?”

He puts his hands back in his pockets and shakes his head dismissively, “Nothing. Same as last time.”

“Dang it,” you slump onto a bar stool yourself, dismayed at the unfavorable results, “Nothing at all?”

“Well,” Tamaki’s “well” gives you a smidge of hope, and you perk up for what he has to say, “this feeling of self-appreciation is way stronger than last time’s.”

You crumple back on the stool, disheartened by the lack of progress despite this being only your second trial. Tamaki doesn’t feel any romantic feelings for you, even after you put one hundred and ten percent of your quirk into those takoyaki. This really means Tamaki doesn’t see you in that way. Even so, Tamaki should feel something. Even if the eater doesn’t have any feelings, your quirk should still have some effect. After all, your quirk adds; eventually, the eater would have to experience something. What’re you doing wrong? Is it because Tamaki’s the eater? No, your quirk works on everyone. It can’t be the takoyaki, as confirmed by your relatives. Could it be…the emotion you’re using for the takoyaki?

“(L/N),” Tamaki snaps you out of your trance, bringing you back to reality, “Can I say something?”

“Sure, something wrong?” you set your discontent and dissatisfaction aside, choosing to reflect on this stumping conundrum later.

“I don’t think you need those takoyaki,” he declares with an air of certainty about him without sounding too cocky or confident, “I’m sure that whoever you’re going to give these takoyaki to has the same feelings as you do. You’re such a wonderful person, (L/N). You’re a hard worker, like now with these takoyaki. And you make sure that all of your friends are okay and take care of them. You shine so bright in your own way, brightening everyone’s day. I can’t imagine anyone not seeing you in the same way I do.”

“Tamaki…” you flush a pale pink, heart drumming so loudly in your ears, it’s all you can hear, “Thank you for your words, but I’m certain they don’t see me in that way. And I could say the same for you too! You should be more confident in yourself because you truly are an extraordinary person. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are, and you shine in your own right, even if you don’t think so…. If only you could see yourself how I see you.”

That’s as close to a confession you’ll ever give to Tamaki. How do you have the courage to tell him all of that and not have the courage to actually say those three simple words: I like you. Maybe tack on a “more than a friend” to avoid confusion.

Tamaki turns red from head to toe, overwhelmed by your compliments. He manages to crank out a “thank you”, and the two of you sit on your stools in comfortable silence. Your heart is still pounding like crazy, and it seems impossible to stop it. You notice the sun setting outside the classroom’s window, meaning you should be getting ready to leave.

“W-we should start heading out,” you get off the stool and push it back under the counter, “Do you want these still?”

He agrees mutely and takes one last takoyaki before you prepare to wrap it up. In his haste, he ends up having a crumb on the corner of his pillowy lips. You chuckle to yourself quietly, finding it to be more adorable than anything. Tamaki looks at you with a curious brow, confused as to why you’re laughing at him. Wanting to continue the silence, you merely point to the right corner of your lips, and he mirrors your actions, becoming aware of the defiant, stray crumb. He appears embarrassed by it, unsure as to what to do about it. Without thinking, you rip off a paper towel and lean over the counter to wipe it off. Out of instinct, you gently grab a hold of his chin and delicately dust the crumb off, effacing some sauce residue off as well. When you finish, your eyes go up from his lips to his eyes, which were watching you intently, Tamaki too frozen to do anything. You’re suddenly conscious of where you are and who you were doing this with, and apologies spew from your mouth.

“S-sorry, Tamaki!” you toss the paper towel out and retreat to the counter behind you, “I-I don’t know what I was thinking! I’m so used to doing that f-for my friends and f-family! I-I—!”

“I-it’s fine, (L/N),” he stiffly replies and swipes a finger as to where the crumb was like it was still there.

“R-right,” you know that you wouldn’t be able to forget this for a long time, still feeling his jaw on fingertips, “L-let me pack this up for you, and we can go home.”

“I-I’ll go with you,” Tamaki helps you clean up the ingredients, “It’s getting late, and you don’t live that far from me.”

“A-are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you,” you imagine going home with him alone, your heart pumping at a dangerous pace despite having gone home with him before, and get the foil container again with its complementary lid.

You two work in tandem as the birds chirp outside and the skies fade from baby blue to a warm orange. As you recall the events that had just transpired, you can’t help but feel all light-headed and warm inside. You didn’t think this would be how the day ended, but you don’t regret it in the slightest. While you still have to tackle this problem with the takoyaki, you decide you can deal with it tomorrow.

For now, you just want to enjoy this blissful time with Tamaki.

The same hour of the following day, you’re back at it in the same home-ec room on the sixth floor with the same plate of takoyaki asking yourself the same question. You’ve already ruled out that it can’t be because of the takoyaki or Tamaki. Therefore, it has to be because of the feelings you’ve been putting in the takoyaki. But what could be wrong with them? You’ve been transferring your crush onto Tamaki in the takoyaki, so Tamaki would, subsequently, have a crush on you. Filling the takoyaki with your crush for him should make him have a crush on you because…well, because….

A lightbulb goes off in your head as you finally realize what you’ve been doing wrong this entire time! Because you’ve been inserting affectionate feelings for Tamaki, Tamaki would be falling in love with himself, not you! It would make perfect sense since Tamaki has told you that, after eating the takoyaki, he appreciated himself, even more so yesterday. You want to smack yourself in the face over how blatant your mistake was. If you want Tamaki to have feelings for you, you’re going to have to use the power of self-love!

Ugh, you don’t like how that sounded like a line from some corny kids show.

With a newfound determination over this breakthrough, you wash your hands thoroughly and snatch the blue gloves from its cardboard box, snapping them on yourself like a surgeon before surgery. Wiggling your fingers to better fit the glove, you’re extremely excited to use your quirk on the takoyaki, now knowing that your plan will definitely work.

As you cover the takoyaki with your hands, like you’ve been doing, you already arrive at a roadblock: you’re going to need to be in love with yourself.

How are you going to be like that? You’re not Narcissus, which is actually a good thing, but not in this case. Would you just have to just think of yourself just like how you think of Tamaki? Pretend you’re going on dates with yourself? You shudder at the thought; it’s kind of creepy to do that. Still, you’re going to have to do this in order for this to work.

With no other choice, you prepare yourself to replace Tamaki with yourself in those scenarios you have been imagining. You also remember to not go crazy with using your quirk, so Tamaki doesn’t worship the ground you walk on (not that you can imagine him doing that, even with the help of your quirk).

Your eye color. Your figure.

Walking through the park with you. Cooking up breakfast inside your kitchen with you.

You stop right then and there. Doing things with a clone of yourself is no different from doing things by yourself. You’re not a narcissist by any means, so the thought of such doesn’t make your heart rate go any faster, unlike Tamaki. How should you go about this? Your quirk won’t work unless you genuinely feel like you’re in love with yourself.

Tamaki’s words from yesterday ring in your mind, and you remember how flustered and undeserving you felt from his compliments. Would that work? Then again, you probably only felt that way because Tamaki’s the one who told you that.

You breathe out loudly through your nostrils, exasperated from being so close to getting what you want yet so far. In order for Tamaki to fall in love with you per your quirk, you would have to put feelings of self-love in the food. However, it’s not your traditional type of self-love, the kind where you appreciate everything about yourself. It would have to be a romantic type of love, which you can’t seem to, understandably, muster up for yourself.

Is there another way to make Tamaki have feelings for you? How does one have feelings? Well, if you follow the standard narrative, person A acquires feelings for person B by getting closer to person B. This is done by persons A and B getting to know more about each other and finding admirable qualities in the other person. So, should you think about what you like about yourself, or, in other words, the traditional self-love you ruled out earlier?

You want to smack yourself in the face again. At least this probable solution didn’t take you over three days to figure out. You’re not certain that this will work, but you can’t think of any other option. It’s worth a shot!

Placing your hands all over the takoyaki again, you take a deep breath and think about what you like about yourself.

Your eyes that take in the world and provide you a unique perspective in life. Your figure that adorns your clothing just as well as the mannequins in the department. Your hands that have cooked so many meals for your friends. Your arms that carry heavy packages to help your school host their well-renowned events. Your legs that rush you to your friends’ and family’s aid when they need them.

Your ability to cook delicious cuisine for your friends and family. Your concern for the wellbeing of others. Your other hobbies. Your classes. Your small business at UA.

Removing your hands from the takoyaki, a warm, fuzzy feeling pervades throughout your body. You didn’t think such a reflection would make you all sentimental. Satisfied with your work, you take off your gloves, place your hands on your hips, and admire the plate of takoyaki in front of you. Now, you just have to pack them up and—!

Wait. If Tamaki knows you’re trying to make someone fall in love with you with these takoyaki, then he’s definitely going to know you have feelings for him! Gah! Why did you have to feel all bad and tell him your intentions? Maybe you can give them to him under the guise of having him test it?

As you mull over how you’re going to give those takoyaki to Tamaki without him finding out you have a crush on him, the door behind you splits open, hitting the inside of the wall from the person sliding it so forcefully.

“(L/N)! It’s me, Mirio!”

You pivot around immediately, astonished by, not only Mirio’s surprise appearance, how many times you’ve been scared in this room by people coming into this room, “Mirio, you need to stop doing that!”

“Whoops, sorry!” he apologizes, but you know that he’s probably going to do it again if he ever finds you in here.

“You need something?” you ask absentmindedly, still wondering as to how you’re going to administer these takoyaki to Tamaki.

“Wanted to check in,” he spots the takoyaki you made and rushes over, “Oh, is that the takoyaki?!”

“Yes, but you—!”

Before you can finish giving your warning, Mirio takes a takoyaki and eats it. Your eyes widen. Your hand that tried to stop him is frozen in mid air. You’re absolutely flabbergasted. You’re positive you’ve shit yourself.

“M-Mirio!” you cry out, panicking and not knowing what to do, “You weren’t supposed to eat that!”

“Why? It’s so good!” he reaches for another, but you grab his wrist to stop him from eating any more.

You’re about to ask him if he’s feeling anything out of the ordinary, but he takes your hand in his, admiring it. Wait, wait, wait. Admiring?! Oh no, no no!

“(Y/N),” his eyes flutter from your hand to your face, “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?”

“N-no, you haven’t,” you begin to sweat and freak out from both your takoyaki working and Mirio flirting with you.

“I should have a long time ago,” he leans closer to your face, and you draw back, “I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to realize that I’ve had feelings for you all this time!”

You wrench your hand out of his, but Mirio latches back on without delay, “M-Mirio, I need to put these away. May I please have my h-hand back?”

He pouts cutely and lets go of you begrudgingly, “Fine, do you need help?”

“N-no, I can manage!” you take a foil container and its clear lid out of the cabinet right away since you already know where they are.

As you relocate the remaining takoyaki into the tupperware, you desperately try to think of a way you can give these to Tamaki. What’re you going to tell him? Should you say that you think you finally got it and need him to try it? No, it wouldn’t make sense if you would give him all seven. Should you tell him that you don’t think you got it and want to give it to him? Maybe that will work? It’s worth a shot! He would eat all of the takoyaki and not question it.

Eager to finally complete phase one of your plan, you’re almost finished transferring most of the takoyaki into the tinfoil tray until Mirio calls out your name while adoring you with glistening eyes like that one emoji. Wow, he reminds you of a golden retriever. Ah, so he’s that type of partner. Makes sense actually.

Not wanting to leave him hanging any more, you seal the clear lid into the container and carry the takoyaki in both of your hands, showing it off to Mirio, “I need to deliver these to someone. Do you think you could stay here until I come back? Also, do you happen to know where Tamaki is?”

“Okay,” he obeys but frowns, and you almost relent to how adorable and compliant he’s being right now, “And Tamaki should be heading home now. If you run, you could catch him at the front gates. Do you want me to get you for him?”

“No, I’ll be okay, thank you,” you pat Mirio on the head to placate him and resist the urge to call him a “good boy”, “I promise I’ll be back soon!”

With your promise, Mirio allows you to leave, and you sprint out of the classroom, holding the tinfoil tray tightly in your hands. You run down and across halls, taking care not to bump into any students or teachers (the chance of bumping into either of those people is low since most of them are home or heading home). To save time, you nimbly run down the stairs and skip the last few by jumping over them.

As you get closer and closer to the front gates, your resolve starts to falter, and your steps become slower (also because you’re running out of energy). Is this really okay? Yes, this isn’t the first time you’ve wondered whether you should do this or not. However, now that you’re really about to go and do it, you’re not so sure anymore. Tamaki already knows that you were going to give these takoyaki to someone and make them have feelings for you, but he doesn’t know it’s for them; bless his heart for not judging you. Knowing you, you would probably feel bad for tricking him and come clean, telling him of your feelings anyways. I mean, you’ve already told him about the takoyaki. Why wouldn’t you tell him that the takoyaki was meant for him all this time?

Your run slows to a reluctant walk. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. You may have had the determination to do this earlier, but, when you think about how Tamaki stayed behind yesterday to help you out at the risk of being infatuated with you, you begin to feel rotten inside. How could you be so selfish and make Tamaki fall in love with you, even for a moment? Dealing with this crush would be a lot better than tricking one of your closest friends and betraying his trust.

Before you could turn the other way and throw out the takoyaki back in the home-ec room, you find Tamaki coming your way from the other side of the hallway. You immediately hide the takoyaki behind your back; Tamaki would definitely ask you about them if you saw.

“Oh, (L/N),” he calls out to you, and you ensure that the takoyaki is out of his sight, “Is something wrong?”

“N-nope!” you gulp, “Why were you coming this way? I thought you were going to be going home already.”

“Sorry, I was hoping to come help you with the takoyaki earlier, but I had to make up a test,” he meets you in the hallway halfway.

“O-oh, how did that go?” you adjust the takoyaki behind you in hopes of it being completely hidden from view.

“Fine,” he looks at you, perplexed as to why you’re here, “What’re you doing down here? I thought you would be working on the takoyaki upstairs.”

“O-oh, that?” you mentally curse over the shift in conversation but don’t elaborate.

“Yeah,” he answers, clearly wanting you to explain.

“W-well…” you think of something to say and, finding no reason to lie, tell him what happened (well, only what he needs to know), revealing the takoyaki behind your back, “I got it to work!”

“Oh, really?” Tamaki deflates at your answer, “That’s good then. Well…you don’t need my help anymore. I hope everything goes well with the person you’re giving them to.”

Before you can explain to him that you’re not going to give them to anyone anymore, he begins to walk away, and you chase after him, confused over his abrupt change in mood, “Wait, Tamaki, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he tells you, but you’re not convinced, “I just remembered that Fat Gum asked me to come to the office, so I have to go, sorry.”

“Y-you sure?” you, as always, don’t want to force him into answering, but you can’t help but be concerned, wanting to know the reason behind his sudden dejection and seeing if you can help him somehow.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Tamaki continues walking away from you, “Get home safe, (L/N).”

“You too…” you let him leave to Fat Gum, not wanting to impede his internship responsibilities.

You decide you should just go home, so you, with a heavy heart, go to your locker to get your bag and shoes. Finding a garbage can nearby, you toss out the takoyaki and try to push the atrabilious image of Tamaki out of your mind. You make a note to text Tamaki later tonight to make sure he’s all right.

What made him so upset?

Yawning, you pass through the front gates of UA with your school bag slung over your shoulder. You texted Tamaki last night, but the conversation didn’t last long. Tamaki gave short replies to your questions and didn’t ask you anything like he usually would. Figuring he probably just wanted to be alone, you bid him good night and set your phone to do not disturb. Even though you were the one to end the conversation, you’re still worried for Tamaki and hope that he’s feeling better today.

Before you get inside the colossus of a building you call a school, someone rushes over to you, almost tackling you into the ground like a rugby player from how forceful they were. You spot a tuft of golden rod hair, and you freeze in place. Oh, god.

“(Y/N)! I waited all morning for you!” Mirio aggressively rubs his cheek into yours to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if static electricity sparks between you two, “Where did you go yesterday? I waited all day at the home-ec room like you asked me to, but the security guard kicked me out!”

“I-I’m sorry, I completely forgot!” you try to remove yourself from him, but he pulls you in even tighter, ignoring the curious and confused stares from other students.

You begin to panic again, awaken from your half-asleep stupor. This doesn’t make any sense. Mirio should be back to normal by now. Why is he still in love with you? He shouldn’t be…unless—!

“That’s okay, (Y/N),” he finally backs away but keeps you in place by gripping your shoulders, “Your tasty takoyaki kept me company. They were really good! Can you make me some more please?”

“Wait,” you pale at what he just said, “Mirio, did you eat more of the takoyaki?”

“Yeah!” he beams at you like there was nothing wrong with that, and imprisons you again in a hug, “You left some, so I ate them!”

You groan inwardly, realizing you’re going to have to deal with a lovesick Mirio the entire day. Well, maybe not the entire day. After all, you don’t share any classes with him, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to avoid him during lunch. But…what’re you going to do about this?

“(L/N), what’s going on with Mirio?”

You yelp to find Nejire behind you, confused at Mirio embracing you tightly at the front of the school, “N-Nejire! Well, M-Mirio—!”

“We’re in love!” he chirps out, and you whip your head to him, absolutely appalled at what he just said.

“Really, (L/N)?” Nejire has a pleasant surprised look coating her face, her mouth slightly open and then covered with her hand, “And here I’ve always thought you had a crush on Tamaki!”

“N-no, we’re not in love, Nejire!” you ignore her last remark and repeatedly pat Mirio’s back for him to let you go, “M-Mirio, could you please?”

“Y-you don’t love me, (Y/N)?” Mirio whimpers and looks as though he’s about to cry.

“N-no, I d-do!” you lie to avoid any tear spillage so early in the morning, “but, if you could let go of me, that would be great, Mirio!”

Mollified by your answer, his arms slide off from yours, and you peel yourself from him. You now face a bemused Nejire and a devoted Mirio, almost seeing a tail wagging fervently side to side behind him.

Whispering your next words to Nejire, so Mirio doesn’t hear and get his heart broken, you lean in close to her ear, “So, yesterday, Mirio ate something of mine infused with romantic feelings, and now he’s in love with me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Ah,” she says aloud and gives Mirio a one-over, “How long do you think he’ll last like this?”

“Uh,” you don’t know how many takoyaki Mirio ate, so you ask him, “Mirio, how many takoyaki did you eat yesterday?”

“I think three, but those three weren’t enough,” he pleads and tugs you in again by the shoulder, “I need you to make me some more today.”

“If you took three…” you multiply in your head to find out how long your quirk will last, “That would last twenty-seven hours…. You ate them at around 4 p.m, yesterday…. He’s going to be like this until at least seven o’clock tonight!”

“Oh, that’s not so bad,” Nejire shrugs, clearly not as distressed about this as you are, “You could just wait this out. Besides, you’re not the one who has class with him today. I don’t know how me and Tamaki are going to have to deal with a lovesick Mirio all day. I think it goes without saying that you don’t have to sit with us for lunch today. Also, why were there any love-infused takoyaki in the first place, hm, (L/N)?”

“Th-that’s not the issue right now, Nejire!” you’re never going to tell Nejire that the takoyaki were for Tamaki; she would have a field day with that, “And I feel bad for Mirio. It’s my fault he’s like this, but I’m not sure what I can do.”

“Right,” she holds her hands behind her back in thought and as calm as ever, “How about you make him something later after school? Make him something big enough to counteract the takoyaki and infuse them with hate or friendliness to reverse the love. He’ll gladly eat anything from you it seems.”

You slap your forehead at how easy the solution was, “How did I not think of that? Thanks so much, Nejire! But he’s going to have to wait until the end of the school day since I don’t have access to the cafeteria’s kitchen today. I could use a home-ec room, but I have class in the morning. Can you handle him till then?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about us,” Nejire forcibly yanks him off of you, adding more to the list of things you need to pay her back for, “Come on, big guy, let’s go.”

“But (Y/N),” Mirio lower’s lip juts out, and his arms helplessly reach out to you while Nejire drags him away like a toy wagon.

“You’ll see (L/N) later, but we have class,” she waves you a goodbye, which you return, and hauls Mirio to the front steps and into UA.

“I love you, (Y/N)!” he yells out, and you desperately wish to burrow yourself into a hole and never come out.

Who knows how many people have seen Mirio confess his feelings to you and repeatedly touch you in more-than-a-friend ways? Hopefully, this doesn’t reach Oshima and Yaginuma; you don’t want to have to explain the whole love takoyaki situation to them.

Heaving a huge sigh, you are finally able to enter the school building, heading to your locker to change your shoes. Only seven more hours until you can make that antidote for Mirio.

Also, it was a bit strange to not find Tamaki with Nejire. Usually, those three came together, but only Nejire came on her own. Mirio was understandable since he woke up at the crack of dawn to wait for you at the school gate. You hope he’s okay and pick up the pace to avoid being late to your first class.

As you’re sitting with Oshima and Yaginuma, laughing about Yaginuma’s lustrous thoughts over Chris Hemsworth in the latest trailer of the new Thor movie, Mirio strides over to your table, and you immediately want to run away.

“(Y/N)!” he picks you up from your chair bridal style as if you’re nothing but a feather, and your friends both drop their cutlery into their bowls, not having been informed of his current predicament, “I missed you so much today! Come sit with me and everyone else at lunch!”

“‘(Y/N)’?’ Oshima incredulously quotes him using your first name, something no one has done before.

“U-uh, I’ll explain later, promise!” you struggle in his arms, but he keeps you secure (curse his muscles), “M-Mirio, I promised Oshima and Yagniuma that I would sit with them today. I’m sorry!”

Like a kicked puppy, his metaphorical dog ears curl down, and he’s barely maintaining his composure, “B-but!”

Not wanting him to burst into tears like he almost did this morning, you have no choice but to eat with him at lunch, “Fine, fine, Mirio! I’ll eat with you, but could you put me down, please?”

“Nope!” he swiftly takes you away from your friends like a knight rescuing a princess from the big, scary dragon.

Becoming a spectacle for the lunch room, you cover your face in your hands, knowing it’s now impossible for there to be no rumors about you two. Mirio doesn’t necessarily run to the lunch table, but it doesn’t take long for him to stop at a table. You uncover your face to find Nejire smiling pitifully at you and Tamaki avoiding looking at the two of you, finding his lunch more interesting. They were sitting next to each other, leaving two empty pull-out chairs for you and Mirio.

“You’re sitting next to me today, (Y/N)!” he gracefully slides you in the seat on the inside facing Tamaki before sitting on the chair adjacent to you.

“He was insufferable today, (L/N),” Nejire complains before stabbing into her food, “All throughout training, he kept on going, ‘I wonder what (Y/N) is doing?’ and, ‘I can’t wait to see (Y/N) later!’ I tried to tell him that you were eating with your friends, but he wouldn’t listen. How was it in math, Tamaki?”

Tamaki, unprepared for the conversation to be handed over to him, jolts in his seat and glimpses at you and Nejire before staring back at his lunch, just like he had when he first met you, “Yeah, pretty bad as well, but it’s to be expected. It’s no surprise Mirio would be an…excited boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry for all the trouble guys,” you wince at his response, still feeling something is off with him, “Tamaki, how’re you feeling today?”

“…All right, thanks,” he curtly answers before eating more of his lunch.

“That’s good…” you can’t remember when the air was so stagnant between the two of you and don’t know what to do about it.

You’re about to unbox your lunch bag only to find that you left it with Oshima and Yagniuma. Groaning, you faceplant into the table, not happy with how today has been going.

“Oh, (L/N), where’s your lunch?” Nejire asks innocently, but the question only irates you, making you upset at Mirio for snatching you without letting you take your lunch with you.

Breathing out, you lift your head up and rest your chin on the table instead, “When Mirio took me away, I left my lunch box at my old table. So, now, I don’t have lunch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, (Y/N)!” Mirio scoops a portion of his food on his spoon and holds it out for you to take, “Here, have some of mine!”

“Oh, I’m good, Mirio,” you retract from it, not wanting to be fed by Mirio, while trying to keep your cool, fully aware that it’s no one’s fault but your fault for making him act this way.

“Nonsense, I can’t have you starve!” he force-feeds you his spoonful, and you have no choice but to accept it.

“Oh, you guys are so cute, I think I’m going to vomit,” Nejire fake gags and laughs innocently at her own comment as you sulk at her

Teasing from Nejire can be downright vexing, and you should know from all those times she’s made fun of you and Tamaki. On the other hand, Tamaki stands up from his chair and darts out of the cafeteria, his lunch unfinished. You watch his hurrying form on the way out, now extremely worried for him.

“Is he okay?” you ask Nejire; maybe he had told her instead of you.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” she rests her head on her hand while taking another bite of her meal, “He’s probably just having stomach issues or something.”

“Oh, no,” you immediately feel bad for him, not knowing he was in such pain, especially with his food-related quirk, “I’ll make him soup later then.”

“I don’t think that would help,” she took a sip from her thermos of tea without elaborating.

“Here, (Y/N)!” Mirio sticks the spoon in your mouth without warning, almost making you choke on it.

You glance at the clock in the cafeteria to gauge the time. Only four more hours, and this would end.

After giving Mirio a soup filled with friendliness, you explained to him how he ended up in that situation while he took more and more sips of the soup. The more he ate, the more terrified his face turned.

“I cannot believe I did all of that,” he buries his face in his hands while sitting at the countertop in the same home-ec room with a bowl of eaten soup before him, “I am so sorry, (L/N). I remember doing everything, but it was like I didn’t have any control over myself.”

“It’s fine,” you wave it off, pouring some soup from the pot into an empty container to give to Tamaki later, “After all, it was all my fault you fell in love with me.”

“Right,” Mirio looks confused at the bowl before him and asks you a question for the first time since you recounted what has happened in the past twenty-four hours, “Wait, I thought you were making ‘Happiness Takoyaki.’ Why were they ‘Fall-In-Love Takoyaki’?”

“O-oh, why?” you feel yourself break into a nervous sweat, fiddling with your hands, “N-no reason.”

“(L/N),” he sits up in his stool, staring at you straight in the eyes, “Does this have anything to do with your crush on Tamaki?”

“Wh-what’re you talking about?” you avert the question, not thinking he would ask you something so plainly.

“(L/N),” he calls you by your last name again as if you can’t escape this, “Nejire and I talk about it all the time. It’s so obvious you like him.”

“I—,” you raise the white flag of defeat, finding it fruitless to lie to Mirio about something he already knows about (besides, Mirio isn’t that bad when it comes to shipping you two compared to Nejire), “Sigh, yes, I do like Tamaki, and, yes, the takoyaki does have to something to do with my crush him.”

“Oh, I didn’t think you would actually admit it!” Mirio smacks his knee and laughs, “I had my suspicions, but that really confirmed it! Wait till I tell Nejire this!”

You blanch at him, having just revealed your greatest secret that not even Oshima and Yagniuma know, “Y-you didn’t actually know!?”

“Like I said,” he grins cheekily, and you feel so tempted to smack off that smug sneer of his, “I had my suspicions. Don’t worry, I’m not actually going to tell Nejire. She wouldn’t tell him, but her teasing would get far worse.”

“Thanks,” you huff out, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So, I’m assuming you were going to give those takoyaki to him?” Mirio continues eating his soup while waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” you inhale a deep breath before relaying what your grand master plan was to get over him, “I was going to give those takoyaki to him, so I could see what it would be like for Tamaki to like me. After a week, everything would go back to normal, and I would be over him. When they worked on you, I packed some for him to eat but then scrapped the idea on the way to him. Safe to say, I’m not going to do anything like this again.”

The blonde in front of you chews thoughtfully and swallows before replying, “Well, that didn’t seem like a smart plan. Wouldn’t Tamaki remember everything in the end like I did?”

You hadn’t even thought of that, and you think about how narrowly you dodged a bullet, “You’re right. It’s a good thing I didn’t go through with it.”

“You didn’t even need to do it anyways,” he drinks the remaining broth while your heart stops at his words.

“Mirio, what was that?” you ask, trying to keep your urgency at bay.

“…What was what?” he plays dumb, but you’re not going to fall for it.

“You just said, ‘You didn’t even need to do it anyways,’” you come closer to him across the counter, “What did you mean by that?”

“It’s nothing,” he tries to hide from you by eating the rest of the soup only to find he had finished it.

“Mirio,” you enjoin him for an answer, “I just told you I have a crush on Tamaki. You can’t just say that and not tell me what it means.”

“(L/N), Tamaki’s been my friend since middle school,” Mirio doesn’t budge, his eyes sterner than before, “I can’t tell you that.”

Knowing that he’s not going to tell you, you turn your back to him and put away everything you used to make the soup, snatching Mirio’s bowl in front of him. You know it’s petty, but, if he’s not going to say anything, neither are you. As you indignantly wash the dishes, the clattering of the sink and bowls causing a ruckus in the home-ec room, you hear Mirio let out a sigh.

“Why do you think he was like that today?” he caves in, not happy that he had to, though, “Why do you think he left the cafeteria in such a hurry?”

You cut off the rushing water from the tap and look back at him, “Nejire said he was having stomach problems. That’s why I made the soup.”

“It’s because he was jealous, (L/N),” he corrects you while you almost drop the wet bowl in your hands from shock, “He was jealous of me treating you like you were my significant other.”

“J-jealous?” you repeat, unsure if you heard what he just said or not, “B-but surely he knew what happened with the takoyaki!”

“Did he though?” he leaves his seat and stops by the door, “If you want to find him, he should be done with his training and on his way out now.”

Processing this information, you realize you’re going to have to run if you want to catch him in time and bolt out the door, “Thanks, Mirio! See you tomorrow!”

You don’t even hear him say goodbye back from how far you’ve managed to run already. You’re positive you’ve never ran this fast before, not even when you were in the last lap in the relay race in junior high! With what Mirio said…. Does this mean Tamaki has feelings for you? There’s just no way though…but, if what Mirio said is true, then—!

Pushing yourself to run faster, you practically fly over multiple steps and even jump down from one stairwell to the next, miraculously without injuring yourself. What were you even going to say to him? “Hey, Mirio just told me you felt extremely jealous, so do you have a crush on me?” That’s too straightforward!

Spotting the open front doors on the floor below you, you leap over the last five steps and sprint to the doors to find one lone figure with indigo hair. You catch your breath and run outside to find the sun about to set, coloring the sky a mellow pink and orange. Tamaki doesn’t seem to notice you behind him as he keeps his pace and direction.

“Tamaki!” you yell out to get his attention as you wheeze, not having run like that ever.

Startled by your shout, he swivels around to find you bent over and struggling for air, “(L-L/N)?! Is everything okay?”

“Y…yeah,” you take a huge breath of air before continuing, “Ran from…the sixth floor…home-ec room! G…give me…a minute!”

He gives you that minute, but, when you’re still unresponsive, he decides to resume the conversation, “…By the way, Nejire was right. You and Mirio do look good for each other.”

“Wh…what?” you wipe the sweat from your forehead, and your breathing returns to normal.

“I know that the takoyaki was meant for you to see what it would be like for Mirio to like you back, but,” he holds onto his arm while avoiding any eye contact with you, “I think Mirio likes you as well. So, you don’t—.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you wave your hands, trying to understand what Tamaki was saying, “You think I have a crush on Mirio?”

“Weren’t the takoyaki for Mirio?” he now looks puzzled himself, looking at you again, “I mean, it clearly worked, judging by today.”

“No, no, Tamaki,” your hands start to sweat, knowing he misunderstood everything this whole time, “The takoyaki were never for him. I don’t like Mirio like that.”

“O-oh,” he blinks and stands up straighter like a weight’s been lifted off of him, “Th-then why was he all…?”

“He accidentally ate my takoyaki when I finally got it to work,” you sigh, remembering how troublesome he was today, “I didn’t explain at lunch because I thought Nejire had already told you everything today, sorry.”

“No, she didn’t,” he shakes his head but seems better than he was before, “and it’s all right.”

The wind whistles faintly behind you, blowing your hair as well as Tamaki’s. You are both awkwardly standing there, and you remember what you had originally come down here for.

“T-Tamaki,” you swallow, preparing yourself to ask him the questions that’s been swimming around your mind since you left that home-ec room, “Mirio told me that the reason why you left the cafeteria earlier today is because…because you were jealous. I-is that true?”

His eyes widen at your question, and his head turns to the side while the grip on his arm becomes firmer, evident by how his sleeve creases under his hand. His free hand clenches and unclenches. From the side, you can see his cheeks inflame into a furious red. He slowly turns his head back to you, and his face shoots an arrow right to your heart. The blush dusts his cheeks, and his brows are nervously turnt upward.

“I-it’s true,” he buries his face in his hands, unable to admit it to your face, “I was jealous of Mirio. I’m sorry, I have no right to be jealous of him! I-I’m only your friend. I—!”

“Why were you jealous?” your chest rapidly rises up and down from your rapid intakes of breath, this time not from strenuous activity but from hope fluttering in your heart.

“I-I—!” his hands drop from his face, mortified to answer, and he clamps his eyes tight, reigning his nerves in to properly answer, “I-I was jealous because…b-because I like you, (L/N)!”

You gasp, hearing the words you thought you would hear only in your dreams and fantasies, and Tamaki takes this as a negative reaction, “I-I’m sorry, (L/N)! I-I didn’t mean to ruin our friendship like this! B-but when you told me about the takoyakis…and then Mirio…! I know you don’t like me back—I mean, how could you like someone like me?—, but please—!”

“Tamaki!” you stop him from rambling any further, not liking where it was going, “Stop! I like you as well!”

“I-I don’t want this to—!” he, at last, stops talking after he hears what you’ve said, “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Tamaki, I like you too,” you repeat and approach him closer, not believing this is happening right now, “Those takoyaki were for you all along. I’m sorry that I tried to trick you into eating them! I was hoping to feed them to you somehow and get over you that way, but I couldn’t do it in the end. But still! I still tried to do it, and I’m so sorry. I can’t apologize enough!”

“(L-L/N),” he doesn’t move from his spot, and you stop, not sure what he’s about to say, “Th-that’s okay! What matters is that you didn’t do it in the end…and I’m really glad you didn’t do it!”

You sigh with immense relief and advance forward until you’re mere centimeters apart. Despite the both of you confessing your feelings for each other, you still note Tamaki’s uneasiness and are confused. You like him. He likes you back. What’s wrong? Before you can ask him, he beats you to it.

“…Are you sure you don’t like Mirio or someone else?” he mutters, but you hear every word clearly, your heart falling to the pits of your stomach, “I mean, I’m not the most social or confident person. I have trouble talking to most people, and I always bring down the mood with my self-deprecation. Being with me…. It would only bring someone as bright as you down.”

“Oh, Tamaki,” you quickly yet gently cup his face in your hands, giving him no choice but to look into your eyes, “Tamaki, I don’t care about any of that. Yes, you are introverted, and, yes, you can be insecure. But, you are so much more than that. You are so hardworking to get where you are now. You care so much about your friends. You helped me so much with the takoyakis, even though you like me. Tamaki, I like you for you, and nothing can change that. I promise you only you can make me feel this way.”

“(L/N)…” he trails off, speechless at your confession and what you thought about him, despite hearing an attenuated version of it only two days ago, “Then, if you’ll have me, please…be mine…(Y/N).”

Hearing your first name from him spikes your heartrate up by a few beats, and you can’t help the smile that makes its way up your face, “All yours, Amajiki.”

With unfound courage and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you close your eyes and delicately place your lips over Amajiki’s, the two of you slotting together perfectly like the last two puzzle pieces to complete the picture. Amajiki stiffens, not expecting for you to kiss him so suddenly, before kissing back, his trembling hands find solace over your own. His hands cease their tremors once they confirm that this is all real, that you are kissing him. You open your eyes and regretfully break away for a need of oxygen, but, the moment you do, his hands slide to the back of your neck. Butterflies flit about in your stomach at the sudden contact, and then, after gazing into your eyes for a brief moment to drink in the sight of you, he kisses you again with a tender sort of passion, more assured of himself. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss and close your eyes again, your hands slipping from his cheeks to hang loosely behind his neck. Letting Amajiki take charge, this kiss lasts longer than the last, but, as all good things come to an end, he detaches his lips from yours, noticeably more tumescent than before.

“Was that…okay?” he breathes out, slightly out of breath from earlier.

You give him a quick peck before answering, “Absolutely perfect.”

The two of you remain in that position for a little while until Amajiki breaks the silence, “So, what happens now?”

“Well,” you hum in thought and remember the soup that’s waiting all by itself upstairs, “Nejire told me you were having stomach pains when you left so suddenly during lunch, so I made you a soup, unaffected by my quirk of course. Well, you probably don’t need it since you were only jealous.”

“Don’t remind me, (Y/N),” Amajiki hides his face in his hands, embarrassed by being jealous of his best friend, “and I would still love to eat that soup. Your cooking’s really good.”

“Then, let’s head upstairs,” you take his hand in yours, and the two of you walk back into UA and into the sixth floor home-ec room.

END NOTE: after five long months, i have returned! i actually came up with the idea for this fic way back in february the night before my first midterm and started writing this a little over two months ago. i watched a tik tok where it was a love potion au between two characters. one character accidentally tries what the other character was making, which was a love potion, and falls in love with that character. obviously, this fic heavily strayed away from the original idea, but i’m mostly happy with the way it turned out, especially my kiss scene (i guess dating someone does help your writing, haha!)! it took me so long to make this, and i only finally finished because i’m procrastinating studying for finals right now, haha! this is the first time i’ve ever written something in one part that was over ten thousand words. the second half was written when i was half tired and running out of words to use, so i’m sorry if it’s not really up to par as compared to the first half (happens a lot when i write, it seems). also, the gradient in the line breaks are tamaki and mirio's hair color! i'll be making a separate post detailing as to why i wrote tamaki, the reader, and the kiss scene the way i did because i think this post is already so long for tumblr (also because i can't add anymore photos). to end this, i wanted to show this picture by lara.png on twitter i found while looking up reference pictures for tamaki. i think it perfectly captures how i imagined tamaki to look at you during the confession scene! i hope everyone has a good night/day, and hope to see you in the near future!

here's the video to the takoyaki recipe i used to write this:

youtube

comments, likes, and reblogs are super appreciated :> if you have any other tags or tws i should mention, lemme know in the comments! i'm still not good at tagging or tws, so i'm not sure if there's anything i missed.

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

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

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

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what is this about?”

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

“Complaints?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?! Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“This is her.”

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

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

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

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

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

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With who?”

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

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

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

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

“Five!”

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

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

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

“Oh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you looked him up yet?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

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

“Not at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

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

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

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A lesson?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

Text

Stalker (Ending A) (L.MH)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of one night stands, partying, alcohol

Word Count : 6210

Synopsis : he saw her everywhere he was, so the only logical conclusion is that she’s stalking him. he finally had enough and confronted her, but she had no idea who hyunjin was. he refused to listen to her until lee minho came to her rescue, effectively shutting hyunjin up. it was a small lie that made him face feelings he didn’t expect, and began a love triangle no one thought possible. but little did they know, she only had eyes for her best friend.

Author’s Note : i’m back! and while i was gone, i wrote a lot of new imagines. figured i’d start posting again, starting with this hyunjin/minho imagine. hyunjin’s ending will be up tomorrow!

He had never seen her before, but suddenly she was everywhere. Every party, every café, absolutely everywhere, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but think she was stalking him. What other explanation could there be to her being at every place she was at?

At first, he thought it was adorable. He saw her as an adoring fan just working up the courage to talk to him. But when he spotted her across the room with her phone up, seemingly taking pictures of her, he had enough. He stormed over to her, slamming his half full cup on a nearby table before grabbing her phone from her hands, causing her to look up at him with a look of annoyance. “Give it back.”

“Stop taking pictures of me! Stop stalking me! I’m tired of seeing your face everywhere.” He yelled, holding her phone up in the air so she couldn’t reach it. She crossed her arms across her chest as her brows furrowed together, confused as to why this stranger would think she was following him.

“There’s got to be a misunderstanding.” She tried to explain, but he interrupted her, telling her not to make excuses, saying he had caught her red-handed taking pictures of him. “Look at my phone, dude.” He brought it closer to her face, seeing that the camera was not open, but a text conversation was, the last text sent asking where this person was.

Before either one of them could say anything else, someone draped their arm across her shoulders, causing both of them to meet the eyes of Lee Minho, leader of the dance team. “Is there an issue?” Minho asked, pulling the girl closer to his body. She was too much in shock at the situation to push herself away from him.

“Yes. This girl is stalking me!” Hyunjin exclaimed, earning an eye roll from the girl tucked into Minho’s side.

“You mean my girlfriend?” The crowd that was beginning to gather gasped at the new information, whispers quickly erupting from the crowd. “I can assure you she isn’t stalking you, Hyunjin. Babe, are you stalking Hyunjin?” His attention moved from Hyunjin to the girl he claimed was his girlfriend.

“I don’t even know who he is if I’m honest.” She shrugged, looking from Minho to Hyunjin, who now seemed embarrassed by the amount of people surrounding them. “Can I have my phone back now?” Hyunjin slowly slid the phone into her open hand, quietly apologizing to the mystery girl, the girl apparently dating Minho, a man he looks up to. “You didn’t have to do that.” She told Minho after Hyunjin walked away and the crowd dispersed, enjoying the party.

“Hyunjin’s a dick, he deserved to be put in his place. He thinks he’s all that and that girls fall at his feet; this was a well-deserved reality check.” Minho smiled. “I’m guessing you were looking for a friend?” She nodded, looking to see if Jisung had responded to her text to no avail.

“Looks like he’s probably wrapped up with something else.” She mumbled hoping Minho wouldn’t hear, but he did.

“Looks like I’m your company for the night.” He smiled as he pulled her towards the kitchen where the drinks were laid out on the counter. “Pick your poison.” He joked. His smile was intoxicating to her, almost addictive and she didn’t want to look away. She had heard of the infamous dance team leader, Lee Minho, but their paths never crossed before tonight. And she could see why he was so popular.

He was handsome in a way she’d never seen before. He looked like the kind of guy that was cold and aloof, but when he smiled at her, her heart felt safe. Like she could share her deepest secrets with him, and he would take them to the grave, not uttering a word of them to anyone.

She was addicted to the scent wafting off of him into her nose, a very natural and clean scent, different than other guys with their overwhelming cologne. As the two talked the whole night, she found herself not wanting to leave, now understanding how all the girls easily fall for his charms.

He was notorious around the university for being charming without even trying; girls flocking towards him, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. But he was standing in front of her, all of his attention on her, his eyes not leaving her, not even when people around them were calling his name. He was intrigued by this girl he had never seen before and wanted to learn more.

Minho wanted to learn everything about this mystery girl, but he didn’t know why. He wanted to learn her likes and dislikes. Her pet peeves and things she does when she feels stressed. Does she have any pets? What are her parents like? What’s her major? There were so many things to learn, but a party didn’t seem like the right place to ask hard hitting questions. He wanted to spend as long as he could in her presence, learning about her, but even eternity didn’t seem like long enough.

He wasn’t sure what came over him; no other girl ever made him feel like this. None of his ex-girlfriends made him this curious. Was it the way she didn’t fall at Hyunjin’s feet like every other girl at this school? Maybe it was the way she laughed at all his jokes, even the bad ones. The way her lips upturned as her smiled widened before her mouth opened, letting out a laugh that Minho could listen to for years and not get tired of.

She was confident in the way she carried herself, but not in a cocky way. She held eye contact as they spoke, not shying away when he complimented her. It was like she knew she was beautiful and didn’t need anyone to tell her. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he pretended it wasn’t and tried to hold conversation as normal. Is this what the people call love at first sight?

Before either of them knew it, the music was turned off. The house that was once filled with people, was near empty as a few drunk stragglers stayed behind, waiting for someone to help them home. “Oh wow, is it 4 in the morning already?” Minho asked, looking down at his phone that was apparently blowing up the entire time he was with Y/N, and he had no idea. He was so entranced by her beauty he didn’t feel the vibrations coming from his pocket. “Let me take you home.” She quickly agreed, loving the idea of spending more time with him. He placed his hand on her lower back as he led her out of the house and to his car parked down the street.

The two made conversation the entire drive, they didn’t even realize there was no music playing. Not even a second of silence was shared between them as their connection seemed to grow stronger. “Thank you.” She told him as they pulled up to her apartment building.

“Can I get your number? I’d really like to see you again.” She smiled, holding out her hand for his phone that he happily handed over.

“I suppose it’s the least I could do seeing as we’re apparently dating.” For what seemed like the millionth time that night, a blush crept up onto his cheeks as he took his phone back. “I hope to see you soon, Minho.” With that, she left his car and headed up to her apartment.

Had her heart not already belonged to her best friend, Han Jisung, she would have kissed him. She was hardly ever one to sit idly by and allow her feelings to go unsaid, except when it came to Han Jisung, school playboy.

Just as Minho was notorious, Jisung was as well. Jisung was a womanizer, and he loved it. Y/N was there whenever he needed help getting away from a one-night stand who wanted more. In fact, that’s why she was everywhere Hyunjin seemed to be. Jisung would invite her to parties he was invited to so she was close in case he needed her. He would call her to cafes he invited the women to if they weren’t gone when he woke up, seemingly as a nice gesture. But Y/N would be there to act like the jealous, angry girlfriend, either scaring off the girl or dragging Jisung out and effectively getting him away.

If Hyunjin paid more attention, he would see that she never noticed him. Her eyes were trained on the door, looking for the one man that gave her butterflies. He would notice the tears in her eyes as she once again acted like a girlfriend catching her boyfriend cheating. He would see how her face lit up when Jisung’s attention was trained on her instead of someone else. How her cheeks would turn a pretty pink colour when he would wrap his arms around her. If Hyunjin just paid a little more attention, he would see that she only ever had eyes for Han Jisung.

She woke up the next morning when her phone rang with Jisung’s familiar ringtone. “Regular café.” Was all he said before he hung up. She begrudgingly got herself out of bed, throwing on a simple outfit and making herself look presentable. If only her heart didn’t belong to Han Jisung, maybe she could tell him no.

She sat at her regular table, looking at her phone and glancing at the door every time the bell above it chimed. Tears pricked her eyes when Jisung walked in, his arm draped across the beautiful girls shoulders, his famous smile dancing across his lips. She watched from her spot as they got into the growing lineup, talking about something. She was so focused on the two of them, she didn’t notice her phone going off in her hands until it was too late and the call went to voicemail.

She waited until Jisung and the girl sat at a table before making her move. She stormed over to their table, her iced coffee in hand. Jisung’s eyes widened when he saw her, playing the part of a boyfriend just caught cheating. “Who are you?” She asked, allowing her voice to crack just enough to make her seem heartbroken. The girl looked between her and Jisung, confused as to what was going on. “I’m asking who you are! What are you doing with my boyfriend?” She tried to keep her voice low and even, not wanting to disturb other peoples day with her fake drama.

“Oh my god, I had no idea!” The girls eyes widened as she stood from the table, her hands up in surrender. “I swear I thought he was single. Jisung, you need to treat your girlfriend better!” She turned her attention to the man at the table. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better.” With that, the girl took her leave, allowing Y/N to sit at the table and Jisung to relax.

“You’re seriously the best friend ever.” She was silent as she nodded, staring at the text on her phone from Minho. “So I heard you’re dating Minho? Think he’d be okay that you act like my girlfriend sometimes?” Jisung chuckled, trying to lighten the sour mood.

“I’m not a huge fan.” Jisung spun around in his chair, his eyes meeting Minho’s. She smiled when she saw him, ushering him to join them.

“It’s nothing major, dude. She just says she’s my girlfriend to shake off one-night stands that want more. You know how it is.” Jisung shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.

“No, I don’t know how it is.” Minho’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Jisung, not liking this guy one bit. He hated this guy more than he disliked Hyunjin. Minho had never met a more appalling human being. He could see the heartbreak written all over her face, knowing her feelings for Jisung were more than platonic. Jisung had this beautiful, kind-hearted girl right in front of him, ready to give him the world, and he treated her like trash. Yet she stayed by his side, bending to his every whim. “Hope you don’t mind if I steal her for the rest of the day though. We have plans.” She happily stood from the table and followed Minho outside, not even waiting for Jisung’s answer.

He wanted to get her out of there, away from the man who seemed to break her heart more and more everyday. “Looks like you’re my knight in shining armour once again.” She smiled as the two fell into a similar rhythm as they walked beside each other. He didn’t want to be her knight in shining armour, he wanted to be her prince. He wanted to be the one that made her excited for the day ahead. “How can I repay you?” Silence fell over them when she asked that question. Minho stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him.

“Date me.” He said. “Pretend to be my girlfriend for three months to make it believable. I’ll help you get over Han Jisung.” She didn’t even question how he knew, knowing they had a connection that was undeniable ever since they met last night.

“What would you get out of it?” She giggled, wondering why a man who was still practically a stranger would want to help her with a task that seemed impossible.

“I’d get to bring you to the dance studio to annoy Hyunjin.” He made up a lie on the spot, knowing that just getting to call her his girlfriend would be enough for him. The satisfaction of helping her heal her heart would absolutely be enough for him.

She didn’t even have to think about it and agreed almost immediately. Maybe Minho is exactly what she needs to move passed these unrequited feelings she’s had since high school.

They just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, absolutely entranced by the other’s beauty, and without realizing it, they both were leaning in. Their lips met in the middle in a feverish kiss filled with passion and lust. He put everything he could in the kiss, hoping to silently show her his true feelings. She melted into the kiss, knowing now for certain that Lee Minho is exactly what she needed.

As promised, Minho invited her to the dance studio a few days later. She decided to pick up food on the way, knowing everyone would be hungry after practice. She made her way through the maze of dance studios in the performing arts building, bags of food in her hands and an excited smile on her face. Quietly, she opened the door, Minho immediately noticing her and stopping whatever he was doing. The other dancers turned to see what caught their leaders attention. Hyunjin rolled his eyes when he saw her, annoyed that she was officially showing up absolutely everywhere he went, the dance studio no longer an escape.

Minho walked towards her, taking the bags from her hands, and pressing a quick kiss to her lips and ushering her to the front of the room where he was standing previously. “Let’s take a quick break to eat the food my girlfriend brought for us.”

They all sat in a circle, joking, and eating. Minho could barely keep his eyes off of her. She would meet his eyes every so often, only looking away to give attention to whoever was talking.

But if they paid closer attention, they would notice another set of eyes that couldn’t seem to look away from her. Hyunjin wondered what seemed different about her today that seemed to draw him in so much. Maybe it was the obvious kindness she possessed, buying the entire team food without ever meeting them before. Maybe it was the way she seemed to glow unlike the dull lifelessness she showed the other times he noticed her. Her smile was wide and her eyes seemed to sparkle, as if someone put stars in her eyes. She possessed a beauty he hadn’t noticed before, and he could feel the jealousy build in his chest every time she looked at Minho the way he wanted her to look at him.

Hyunjin found himself wanting to get closer to her, but he did his best to hide it. He laughed at the stories she told them, their eyes meeting for a brief second each time. And when the food was eaten and it was time to go over the routine one more time, he found himself putting his all into impressing her. Minho was the leader, but Hyunjin wanted to be the center of attention, the center of her attention.

She was amazed at the beautiful choreography that Minho put together, but her eyes seemed to drift towards Hyunjin. He seemed completely entranced in the music and his body moved as if it was a liquid. It was impossible to look away from Hyunjin when he danced; he looked so ethereal and she could finally see why so many girls begged for his attention. She would too had her heart not belonged to Jisung.

“Amazing.” She exclaimed with a wide smile, and Minho wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Hyunjin wished that was him. He watched from afar as she went on and on about the choreography, saying that Minho did such a great job. “Everyone did incredible!” She clapped her hands together, everyone’s attention now on her as they thanked her for not only her kind words, but the food she brought earlier.

“I hope she comes around more! I like her company, hyung.” Another one of the members, Felix, exclaimed with a smile that seemed to mirror hers.

“If no one minds, I’m sure she’ll come to more practices.” Minho beamed; his arm now draped across her shoulders. Flashbacks of the party came to Hyunjin’s mind, and he felt embarrassed all over again.

She snuck away from Minho while he was caught up in a conversation with a couple of the guys from the team. “You were really amazing, Hyunjin.” He was slightly startled when he heard her voice. “You looked absolutely ethereal and so in your element, it was hard to look away.” She admitted, her eyes not leaving his. He saw the confidence she carried herself with that made Minho fall for her so easily.

“Thank you.” His gratitude was sincere, and she could tell by the way his cheeks burned red. “I’m really sorry about what I said at the party.” She shook her head.

“The past is the past, don’t worry about it.” He could see why she was the girl Minho let his guard down too. She was the kind of girl you don’t encounter twice in a lifetime. She was the kind of girl you hold on to and hope she doesn’t let go. Hyunjin could tell families must adore her and wish for her as a daughter-in-law. And he wondered once again how he had never seen her before. She was the kind of girl that stood out in a crowd, not because she was the most beautiful, but because she had a glow to her that seemed to have a magnetic pull.

“I’ll see you around.” He didn’t want to walk away, but he would do something he would regret if he didn’t. Hyunjin wasn’t a homewrecker, even if it meant losing the perfect girl.

“Ready to go?” Minho asked as Hyunjin walked away. She smiled up at him, nodding. If he could, Minho would buy the world and gift it to her, that’s how much he had fallen for her in such a short amount of time.

Once again she found herself sitting at her regular table at the regular café, her eyes trained on the door, waiting for Jisung to walk through with whatever girl he was with this time. She didn’t feel as heartbroken as she did before, this last month with Minho helping more than she thought possible. Honestly, she felt more annoyed than anything. It was like Jisung didn’t call to hang out anymore, only to request her assistance. She wondered where the sweet and loveable Jisung from high school disappeared to, and who this fuckboy was that replaced him.

As she waited, she didn’t notice Hyunjin watching her from afar, wondering who she was waiting for with such an angry look on her face. He could see her biting her lip as her leg bounced, and he knew it wasn’t Minho. She was never anxious like this around Minho. He seemed to bring out the best in her. He noticed her glow was once again dull, and his curiosity was growing as each second passed.

When the bell chimed and her leg stopped bouncing, he looked towards the door to see the infamous Han Jisung. Was she waiting for him? What was her business with the fuckboy of campus? He watched as she watched Jisung sit down across from another girl, and she stood to make her way to him. Hyunjin stood as well, grabbing her by the wrist before she could approach the table Jisung sat at. “What are you doing?” He asked, concern in his eyes.

“Something I always do.” She replied, snatching her wrist back and approaching Jisung. Hyunjin watched from afar, ready to jump in if anything were to go wrong.

Since the campus knew of her and Minho’s relationship, she had to take a new approach: the annoying best friend. “Who’s this?” The girl asked as Y/N took a seat beside Jisung, Jisung immediately wrapping his arms around her.

“My best friend. You don’t mind if she joins us, right?” Of course the girl agreed, not wanting Jisung to have a bad impression of her, in hopes she could be the girl that changes him.

It only took 10 minutes of the two of them completely ignoring her, talking, and laughing with each other as if she wasn’t even there, for her to leave. “You’re the best.” Jisung said as he usually did. “I’ve missed you.” Her heart no longer fluttered at his words.

“I tried calling, you never picked up.” Jisung’s heart broke at the obvious distance she was putting between them. He knew it was his fault. He was pushing her away, hoping his growing feelings would disappear, but they only seemed to grow stronger. None of these girls seemed to compare to the girl he had right in front of him all this time, and he hates that it took him so long to realize that. He hates that another man noticed it before he did and she slipped through his fingers before he even realized she was leaving.

“I’ll be better, I promise. You’re my best friend, I can’t lose you.” She nodded. From his spot, Hyunjin could tell she wanted to disappear and he decided to give her an out.

“Hey Y/N, you coming to practice today?” She met Hyunjin’s eyes, and the sparkle he was used to seeing seemed to reappear in an instant, causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

“Of course!” She exclaimed with her heart-stopping smile, and Hyunjin could see the anger and jealousy bubbling up in Jisung.

“Want to grab something to eat from the diner from last time before practice?” She slung her purse over her shoulder and stood from the table, agreeing with the notion of food.

“You don’t need anything else from me, right Sungie?” The nickname she gave to him in high school rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. Little did she know the effect that simple name had on Jisung.

“Nope, go have fun. I’ll call you later.” Jealously bubbled inside Jisung as he watched her walk away with Hyunjin, his arm draped across her shoulders. He put distance between the two of them, and she seemed to replace him. They used to spend all day together and never get bored; their stomachs aching from all the laughter. Everything seemed to change overnight, and she was really slipping through his fingers.

“Usually Minho is the one to save me.” She joked as her and Hyunjin walked towards the diner the two of them went to the previous week. Ever since that first practice she attended, the two of them grew closer and she seemed to spend more time with him than Minho.

“How do you even know Han Jisung?” Hyunjin asked, the curiosity eating at him. She smiled at the memories of her and Jisung in high school. Back when she thought there was a possibility of her feelings being reciprocated, but when they got to university, Jisung seemed to do a compete 180 and became a different person.

“We met in high school and immediately became best friends. He wasn’t always like this.” Without prompting, she delved into the memories with Jisung. How he used to be really introverted and nervous around girls. How he was the kind of guy to show up at her house in the middle of night because she was sad. How he was the kind of guy to remember all the small details and surprise her with gifts that were absolutely perfect. He knew her better than she knew herself, and that’s why she fell for him. That’s why she bent over backwards for him.

Until Minho came along and showed her she deserved more. She deserved the kind of guy Jisung used to be, the kind of guy Minho is. She deserved someone who looks at her like she put the stars in the sky and was the reason the sun rose in the morning. She deserved someone who could see her radiance, someone who saw passed her outward beauty and saw the beauty she held within. Someone like Minho. Someone like Hyunjin.

Without realizing it, both Minho and Hyunjin fell for her. Without realizing it, she got over her feelings for Jisung, and began to fall for the two handsome men by her side. A love triangle no one expected.

As the 3-month mark inched closer, Minho felt nervous. He fell harder for her than he originally thought possible and didn’t want to let her go. He could already feel her slipping through his fingers as she spent nearly everyday with Hyunjin. The two of them got close seemingly overnight, and Minho could feel himself on the verge of exploding in anger and jealousy every time he saw them together.

She seemed to smile more and laugh louder with Hyunjin than she ever did with him. The man who claimed he didn’t like skin ship, the man who barely hugged his friends, was the same man who seemed to always be touching her in some way. His arm draped across her shoulders, his arms wrapped around her waist, his arm resting on her leg when they sat beside each other. And she didn’t seem to mind. She seemed to revel in the fact that Hyunjin’s attention was solely on her, barely noticing that she’s the only girl Minho has looked at since the party.

The 3-month mark inched closer with each passing second, and she found herself hoping it would never end. Where would her and Minho stand after this? Would he stay by her side or abandon her saying he did what he told her he would?

A part of her wanted to tell Minho she wanted to continue being with him, that she didn’t want to lose everything they built over these last couple months. But another part of her was also falling for Hyunjin. He was nothing like the man that confronted her at the party. He wasn’t the man in the rumours she was always hearing. Hwang Hyunjin was so much more.

She thought getting over Jisung would make her life easier. She could stick by his side and pretend like she never wished for anything more than friendship. She could watch him be a fuckboy and maybe one day fall in love without feeling the hurt in her chest. Little did she know the price of moving on was the confusion of falling for 2 men at the exact same time. But she fell for them for different reasons.

Lee Minho was very driven; completely focused on accomplishing his dreams. She thought he was the most handsome as he came up with new choreography. He was so focused on making it flow together and easy for the other follow along that he would barely notice her make her way into the studio, watching from afar as he moved to the music, completely immersed.

But when he would finally notice her, he would smile at her, his cold exterior completely shattering as he pulls her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. He would ask for her opinion on his new dance, truly interested in what she thought despite her not being a dancer. Her opinion meant more to him than any others.

She loved watching him lead the dance team, helping them when he noticed them struggling, and beaming when they would nail the new choreography as if he was a proud father. She loved that he wasn’t afraid to show them how much he loved her, regardless of their relationship being fake. He would hold her and kiss her in front of the members and it gave her butterflies every single time.

But when it’s just the two of them and he’s open and vulnerable, that’s what she loves the most. His head in her lap as she plays with his hair while he talks about his dreams and his fears. She listens carefully, hanging onto his every word and reassuring him best she can. Little does she know; her words help him more than he would ever admit.

She fell for him with every kiss, every touch, every late night spent talking. He was only meant to help her get over her feelings for Jisung, and he did more than that without even realizing it.

And then there was Hwang Hyunjin; a man she never thought she would fall for. She didn’t want to be just another girl falling at his feet. She didn’t want to be just another fan standing in the crowd hoping he would look her way even once. But along the way, she couldn’t help but fall for him.

Just like Minho, Hyunjin was quite driven and focused on accomplishing his dreams. Dance was his passion and she could tell he was completely in his element while on the dance floor. He could take any choreography that Minho gave him and nail it almost immediately, looking absolutely ethereal while doing it.

But he was the most handsome behind the camera. Photography was a hobby she found out he had when she brought him along for a photography walk. He was beaming when she met up with him, his own camera around his neck, ready to snap pictures. The way his face would change from smiley to completely focused made her heart flutter in ways Minho couldn’t.

She felt comfortable with Hyunjin, able to open up to him about things she couldn’t even tell Jisung. Hyunjin was at her door anytime if she called. He was there to take her for late night drives when she just needed to think with no distractions. He would play her favourite songs and only speak when she pulled herself out of her thoughts.

Hyunjin was her personal hype man, getting excited even over little victories. When she aced her photography exam, he took her out to celebrate. When her assignment was chosen to compete for the school in the photography competition, his cheers were the loudest. When that same assignment won first place, shocking her into silence, he was the one pushing her towards the stage to accept her award, cheering and clapping even though everyone else was silent.

She fell for him during the silent drives when her head felt like it was about to explode, during the photography walks where she would catch him taking pictures of her instead of the scenery.

Minho gave her butterflies and made her realize she deserved so much more than Jisung was giving her. And Hyunjin made her feel calm and was by her side hyping her up for absolutely everything. They made her feel different things, and that’s why it felt near impossible to choose, but she knew she had to. But there was one thing she didn’t think of; did they even return her feelings?

“What do you do when you fall for 2 people at the same time?” She wondered out loud, Jisung sprawled out on her couch. He stared at her, studying the exhaustion on her face, this question obviously keeping her from sleeping properly.

He kept his promise of doing better, of being a better friend to her. He was tired of the distance between them, and even if she would never return his growing feelings, he wanted his best friend back. “You choose the one that makes you the happiest.” He answered simply before tossing another piece of popcorn in his mouth. “Choose the one you want to call when you get good news, and when you get bad news.” He continued, and the gears in her head were working double time. “Choose the one you feel most comfortable with, the one who makes you excited for the days ahead. Choose the one that all the love songs in the world seem to be about. The one you can see yourself dancing in the rain with. The one you can scream at during a petty argument, but in the same breath say you love them.” Jisung continued to name things and he did he realized he had always been in love with her.

She was the one he wanted to wake up to in the morning, kissing her before getting ready for the day. She was the one he always called when something happened, good or bad, and she was always there. The meaningless, cheesy love songs seemed to all be about her. He was immediately drawn to her in high school because she was his soulmate. But as he watched her ponder his words, he realized that he wasn’t hers. There was another man out there better than he ever could be. Another man that would make her happier than he ever could. And though he could feel his heart break, he would support her love if it brought back her earth-shatteringly beautiful smile.

One name came to mind for her when she thought over all of Jisung’s words. The man that came to mind when a love song played. The man that she wanted to share everything with; all the good news and the bad news. There was only one man she didn’t want to watch fall in love with someone else. And before she could chicken out, she ran out of her apartment, leaving Jisung on her couch, watching her run towards the love of her life.

She knew exactly where to find him even at this late hour. She ran through the confusing maze of dance studios, determined to hold onto Lee Minho for as long as he will let her. She barged into the familiar dance studio; the same one she’s been going to almost every day to watch her fake boyfriend lead the dance team to success. But was the relationship ever fake?

Minho stopped mid routine when he heard the door slam open, confused as to who would bother him at such a late hour, especially with finals just around the corner. But when he saw her face, he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he couldn’t nail this one move that would complete his routine.

“I don’t want to break up.” She spat out from the other side of the room, her voice echoing around them. “I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and not be able to kiss you. I don’t want to watch you fall in love with someone who isn’t me.” She kept rambling, wanting all of her thoughts out in the open. She didn’t even notice him walking towards her with the same amount of determination on his face.

He didn’t let her finish her ramblings before pressing his lips to hers like had done many times before, but this time neither one of them held back. This kiss was filled with so much more passion and love than all the others in the past. This was the kind of kiss that took your breath away and had you begging for more. “Silly girl.” He smiled as he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. “There is no other girl for me. It was always going to be you.” She pressed her lips to his once more, the words I love you on the tip of her tongue, but they didn’t need to be said out loud for him to hear them. He heard them loud and clear.

#stray kids imagine #skz imagine #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee minho #lee minho imagine #lee minho x reader #lee minho au #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagine #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #bang chan #seo changbin

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the-modernmary · 3 years

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chess, not checkers || a. hotchner x f!reader

Summary: Cross-examining Agent Hotchner should have been a lot more simple than it had been. But when the questioning slips out of your control, you find yourself being profiled right there in the middle of the courtroom. Amazing how one stranger can know you better than anybody you've ever met.

Contains: SMUT! 18+ only, minors DNI. Fingering, (light) choking, semi-public sex, adultery, anger sex, enemies to lovers, edging, lawyer hotch <3

Word Count: 8k+

Comments: This is so heavily inspired by “charcoal grey” because we all know how hot he was in that scene. Thank you to @angelfxllcm for being an absolute godsend as I wrote this and being the most supportive friend ever. (If you haven’t read her work, you absolutely should!)

“Fucking FBI and their selfish ass schedules,” you grumbled as you hurried through the hallway of the courthouse, your intern Robin on on your heels. “Court gets pushed back for a week because Agent Hotchner just had to leave with them on a case instead of working remotely, and then expects us to drop everything to go to court the second he gets back to D.C. As if we don’t have jobs too. As if I don’t have six other cases sitting on my desk that now have to be pushed back because of him.”

Robin scrambled behind you, nodding along to every word that left your mouth. “Does this happen with the, uh…”

“BAU,” you supplied.

“—BAU, right. Do court cases usually get pushed back for them?”

You shook your head as you checked your watch. A glint caught the corner of your eye. Shit, your ring. You hadn’t expected to go to court, and completely forgot to leave it at home. You pulled it off and slipped it into the outside pocket of your bag, hoping nobody noticed.

“No. Most cases from the BAU never go to court,” you explained. “There’s enough evidence against the people they arrest that it’s almost always a plea.”

The Bankers Box in Robin’s hands almost slipped as you placed another file precariously on top of it. “Then why is this case going to court?”

Your step faltered as you processed her question, and you couldn’t hide the disbelief on your face. “You did read the brief for this case, right?” you asked, unsure if you really wanted the answer, except her embarrassed blush and averted gaze gave you enough of one. “Seriously? Okay, well, first of all, because of that, you won’t be sitting at the attorney’s table with us. Instead you’ll be in the public seating. I won’t weaken my case because you decided to be unprepared. If this happens again, you won’t be welcome to join me in court at all, am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Deciding to take pity on the poor intern, you sighed as you started your explanation. “Our client claims that his arrest was unlawful and therefore none of the evidence they found should be usable. I’m inclined to agree with him, so we’re fighting all of the charges that were made with evidence found after the arrest.”

“So you don’t think he’s guilty?”

“I don’t ask that question. I’m not God and I’m not his priest, I don’t need to hear his confession. I just need to get him out of unjust and illegal charges.”

Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “So he’s going to walk free? Even after everything he did? How do you sleep at night?”

Fucking Christ, how did this girl even get into law school? You rolled your eyes, suddenly regretting your decision to take on an intern. “No, he’s not going to walk free. He’s going to get a lesser charge, because everything else was obtained illegally. And I sleep very well, actually, because my job isn’t some episode of Law & Order. Less than 10% of my cases ever go to trial. I’m not here to suddenly convince juries that the evidence is wrong. My job is making sure that everybody is given their constitutional rights, that the police are doing their jobs correctly, and that the State isn’t over-punishing. Any cop knows that, and if you ever come across one that doesn’t, you know that you should look into those cases even further. You have to realize, criminal defense lawyers—”

“— are the last line of protection against a corrupt system.” You turned to see your assistant, Marcus, making his way towards you, briefcase and your spare blazer that you keep in the office in hand. “I see you’re giving her your famous anti-prosecutor lecture.”

Marcus helped you slip on your blazer over your satin button up, his hands lingering on your skin for just a little too long to be considered professional, and it made you shiver in anticipation. “God knows she needs it. Thank you, Marcus, for bringing these so quickly. Were you able to get the physical copies of Agent Hotchner’s files?”

Marcus held up his briefcase. “All right here. Although I have to say, I’m a little lost as to why you need his service records.”

The three of you turned the corner to enter the courtroom, your heels clicking on the tiled floor. Robin obediently took her seat in the public viewing area while you and Marcus pushed through the swinging door to settle at your table. “I’ve heard stories of Agent Hotchner’s testimonies. He used to be a prosecutor, so he’s not easily tricked, but he is prideful and will defend his work. I’m going to use that to my advantage. It’s like I always say, practicing law means always playing chess, never checkers.”

Marcus took the seat next to you, making sure to sit close enough that his knee brushed yours the whole time. “You know, I was thinking, this case is complicated,” he whispered, “And we haven’t combed through everything yet… It could take more time than we planned.”

You smirked, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “Agreed. I’ll tell Tony I have to stay late at the office tonight.”

Before Marcus could continue his flirting, you were distracted by the door to the judge’s chamber opening, revealing the back of a man in a black suit. “Thank you again, your honor, for the continuance,” came the deep timbre of the man, and oh. You certainly weren’t expecting that. “A young girl was able to be reunited with her family this week because of it.”

The man in the doorway turned, and your breath caught in your throat. He was tall and buff and expensive-looking and absolutely gorgeous. His suit was tailored to fit him perfectly, the sleeves of his blazer straining against his biceps. He carried himself with an aura of confidence, like he belonged in the courtroom, and he was making his way directly towards you. Unconsciously, you separated from Marcus, putting as much distance between you and your assistant as possible without raising suspicion.

The man said something to the prosecution before turning to you, hand outstretched. He said your name as a greeting, and your name had never sounded so good. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

When you stood up to shake his hand, you tried to ignore the way his eyes raked down your body, or the way the two of you held on just a moment too long to be considered proper. It felt as if he was looking right through you, learning all of your secrets as though they were written on your body. No, you knew that look. He was studying you. “Agent Hotchner, it’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Counselor. Please, call me Aaron.”

You raised your eyebrows in Aaron’s direction, still shaking his hand, and it made your skin burn. You dropped his hand. “I’m just glad we’re able to get this case done and over with. Hopefully with no more delays.”

His eyebrows quirked upwards in what could only be described as shock. “I see your reputation precedes you,” was his only reply before going to his respective seat, and if he noticed you watching his every move, he made no indication of it. That being said, you definitely felt his gaze on the back of your head as the judge entered the room and the session began.

As the proceedings dragged on, you and Marcus continued to talk strategy, his hand finding its way to your thigh ever so often. You also continued negotiating with the prosecutor, both of you flashing Post-It notes of potential plea deals that you would be willing to accept, always careful to keep it out of the eyes of the judge and jury. By the time Aaron had been called to the stand, the offer given to you still wasn’t low enough. Fine, if the prosecution wanted to make a fool of themselves, so be it.

You listened to Aaron’s testimony with the prosecution, completely enraptured. There was something about the way he spoke, so full of authority and confidence, that made the entire room drawn to him. He was incredibly intelligent, that much was clear, and despite the many years since he had actually practiced law, that prosecutor candor hadn’t left him. Staying focused on the case had proven to be more difficult than previously expected. You found yourself staring at his lips, and it didn’t take long for your mind to conjure up some obscene and explicit situations starring the man in front of you.

Eventually, his eyes caught yours, and he watched you, his lips — god, those lips — quirked up in a smirk. Aaron watched you expectantly, and in the light of the courtroom, his eyes were almost the color of whiskey, and you wanted nothing more than to drink it all in.

A sharp “Counselor” broke you out of your trance. In the corner of your eye, you could see Marcus looking at you in concern, but he was the furthest thing from your mind now, especially as Aaron let out an amused huff of air.

“Counselor, does the prosecution wish to cross-examine the witness?” the judge asked with barely hidden annoyance, making you think that it probably wasn’t the first time she had asked the question.

You stood up quickly, smoothing down your pencil skirt as you did. “Yes, your honor. Thank you,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady as you noticed Aaron’s eyes trailing down your bare legs.

The cross-examination started normally, and Aaron answered all of your questions with careful precision that only a lawyer could pull off. He seemed to know exactly where you were trying to go with your questions, and easily sidestepped any unflattering implication you were trying to make. Long, biased questions were met with short, clipped answers, not giving you anything to work with. Whatever move you made, Aaron was right there, two steps ahead with you. Never in your life had you met somebody who could follow you so easily or could match your wit without so much breaking a sweat.

It was exhilarating.

“Agent Hotchner,” you started, hands clasped behind your back. “Could you please explain to the court how profiles are used when finding and apprehending suspects?”

Aaron sat up a little taller in the witness box. “Using behavioral research and past case studies, we’re able to construct what we call a profile of the perpetrator, or unsub. Anything they do can give us insights as to who they are — their victims, what weapons they use, even how they dispose of the bodies. Once we have a profile of who we believe is committing these crimes, we have our technical analyst run the parameters through her system. From there, narrowing down our search is easy.”

You nodded slowly, pretending to mull over what he was saying. “For clarification’s sake, in layman’s terms, you build your profile off of assumed psychology, and not concrete evidence, is that correct?”

The muscles in Aaron’s jaw flexed, a sure sign he was gritting his teeth. “Behavior analysis is a tool, just like any other—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Agent,” you interrupted, and oh, he was not happy about that.

His tongue darted out from between his lips. “The research we use for behavior is—”

“Yes. Or no.”

Aaron hesitated, his frustration building up to palpable tension that settled in the courtroom like a thick fog. You weren’t giving him a chance to explain or show off anymore, didn’t allow him to be seen as the smartest person in the room anymore, and that was getting to him.

“Yes,” he conceded, grimacing as if admitting that was physically painful for him.

“Thank you,” you replied, and he caught the unspoken that wasn’t so hard now, was it? even if the rest of the room did not. You walked back over to your table, snatching up a piece of paper and holding it in the air. “Your honor, the defense would like to submit Exhibit Seven into evidence.”

Once the judge gave her express permission, you placed the form in front of Aaron with your left hand, perfectly manicured fingers splayed out in front of his eyes. You almost missed the way his head tilted ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed, like he was staring at a puzzle half complete. “Agent, could you please tell us what’s laying in front of you now.”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the paper before meeting back with yours. “This is a part of our official report of the case. Specifically, it has the profile that was used to lead us to the apprehension of Mr. Mckenna.”

“Does it say on that paper who had the final sign off on the profile before it was circulated?”

“Yes, that would be me. As Unit Chief, my job is to sign and finalize any reports.”

“And could you please read the profile, verbatim, as written on that report?”

Aaron’s face remained neutral, with the exception of his eyebrows scrunching together. Slowly, he had started to piece together your strategy, and he didn’t like it. “The unsub is a white male, between 32 and 40 years old. He’ll most likely be unemployed and driving a van or truck — anything that would let him easily transport his equipment and victims. We believe that he’s also had run-ins with the law before, likely as a juvenile. He’ll come across as friendly, if not a little shy. We believe that this comes from a failed relationship in his past, one where he believes that he was manipulated and wronged, and now he’s going after surrogates for that woman. Killing these women is the only thing that gives him any sort of power. If we can figure out who this past relationship was, it will lead us directly to the killer.”

You paced back and forth in front of the witness stand, your skirt tightening around your legs with every step you took. “Between 32 and 40 years old, unemployed, and killing surrogates… Except Mr. Mckenna is 22 and works part time as a bartender. How do you justify arresting my client with those inconsistencies?”

“As I mentioned before,” Aaron started, his voice dangerously low, “A profile is just one tool we use of many. Not every single part of the profile will fit every single time. Which is why we also rely on outside evidence to ensure that we have the best chance at catching the unknown subject as quickly as possible.”

“Except you had no concrete evidence, which you admit in your own report!” You took two steps closer to him, getting as in his face as possible without risking being held in contempt. With every word that left your mouth, your voice got more and more forceful, and you got more and more under Aaron’s skin.

“All of it was circumstantial at best. You had a hunch, an inherent bias against my client due to his previous conviction record, and you were frustrated at your own inability to get a good lead. But you can’t arrest somebody on a hunch, or because you’re angry. You had no evidence and the man you arrested didn’t even match the profile that you came up with!”

Your eyes locked with Aaron, his gaze heavy, and neither of you dared look away first. “Objection!” came from the prosecutor behind you. Exactly what you wanted. “Argumentative and foundation.” You flashed Aaron a predatory grin.

Two moves to checkmate.

“Sustained,” said the judge.

“Withdrawn.” You tapped the witness bench, hoping to convey an air of aloofness and calm. Aaron scowled. “Agent Hotchner, before joining the FBI, you were a prosecutor, is that true?”

Confusion flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, and it gave you a twisted sense of satisfaction to know that you had the upper hand. You knew the answer to every question you were about to ask, and he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out where you were going with this line of questioning, or what the relevance even was. “Yes, that’s correct.”

You made a soft hum of approval. “Could you please walk us through your higher education?”

“I attended George Washington University for both my undergraduate and law degree.”

“What did you major in for your undergrad?”

Aaron hesitated. “Political Science.”

Check. “So all together, you’ve had about seven years in higher education. In that time, how many psychology classes did you take?”

It was almost sadistic, the way you relished in the slight twitch of his face — the realization that he had been backed into a corner. The silence was deafening as Aaron’s scowl met your smug grin.

“None,” Aaron said finally.

“None,” you repeated, performative shock dripping from your words. “Do you have any academic background in psychology or human behavior, then?”

Aaron’s jaw clenched, and as you made your way closer to the witness stand, you saw his thumb frantically moving back and forth over his fingertips. Clearly, you had struck a nerve. “The FBI has rigorous coursework in order to become a profiler, along with multiple exams and continued training as more research becomes available to us. The profiling classes are no easy feat and are written by experts in the field. Creating profiles has a long and respected history in detective work, and these profilers have caught some of the most prolific serial killers of all time.”

You placed a hand over your chest in faux modesty. “My apologies, Agent Hotchner, I believe I wasn’t very clear. I’m not calling into question the validity and effectiveness of profiles. I’m calling into question the validity and effectiveness of you as a profiler.”

You could practically see the cartoon fire spewing out of Aaron’s ears. He was so close to being in your trap, something he had to have known, too, yet he continued to toe dangerously close to that line.

“A lack of formal education in profiling,” you continued, keeping your voice light, “and the blatant disregard for basic police and legal procedure as shown in this case with my client… I mean, how many other mistakes were made in your past cases? It’s hard to believe that you can read anybody, much less the hardened criminal that you have painted my client to be.”

Checkmate.

“Objection!” cried the prosecutor again. “Your Honor, this is —”

He was cut off by the judge raising her hand. “Sustained. Counselor, I would advise you to tread lightly from here on out.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Withdrawn.” You turned around to make your way back to your table, ignoring Marcus’s look of complete disbelief. Baiting Aaron had been easy, and now all you had to do was wait.

The courtroom was uncomfortably silent for one beat… two beats…

“Not only can I read Mr. Mckenna,” echoed Aaron’s voice, “But I can also read you.”

Once you got back to your desk, you turned around, hands resting on the cool wood of the table top, but you never sat down. Instead, you leaned forward, and arched your eyebrows in a silent challenge — one he was all too eager to pursue.

“The red Harvard Law tag on your briefcase is a perfect match to your lipstick, and you wear the same one every time you go to court. Not because you’re superstitious the way most lawyers are, but because it’s your way of maintaining control in the courtroom, something you’re desperate to keep in every aspect of your life, personal and professional. I would guess that this need goes back to late high school, early college. But you’ve been worried about appearances and how you’re perceived for even longer than that.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. So he thought you were Type A? Anybody could have guessed that by your anything. All they would have to do is look at your color coded case files or your daily schedule, planned down to the minute. You had only been trying to sway the jury when you insinuated that he wasn’t a good profiler, but maybe you were actually starting to believe it yourself.

Except Aaron got a dangerous glint in his eye, causing your stomach to bubble with anxiety. Clearly, he was playing chess, too, and by the looks of it, he believed he was winning.

“In fact, you’re so worried about losing control, that despite your busy schedule, you refuse to hire a planner for your upcoming wedding.”

That got your attention. The objection that you were about to call died on your lips, and all you could do was stare with poorly hidden shock. Next to you, Marcus turned pale as a ghost.

Aaron, cocky bastard, continued his profile of you, with no clear signs of stopping anytime soon. “You have a tan where your ring usually is, and I know you’ve been wearing it recently as you subconsciously fiddle with where it would be whenever things in court aren’t going your way. Just like you’re doing now. You still have your maiden name, which you plan on giving up when you do get married because not taking his last name would arouse too many questions that you want to avoid. Just another way your concern of appearances is manifested. So you’re engaged.

“I would say congratulations, but it’s not a happy relationship, not on your side, anyway. Younger female professionals will take their rings off in fear of not being taken seriously, but you’re an established and respected lawyer. You needn't worry about that. So if it’s not about you, it’s about the fiance. You don’t want to be associated with him.”

You gripped the edge of the table, too angry to form words. Your nails dug into the varnish, and you were sure that your heavy breathing could be heard from across the room. This dick. This absolute, garbage, piece of shit dick. The worst part was how casual he sounded as he aired all of your dirty laundry for everybody to hear.

“He’s holding you back, in all aspects of life, but mostly intellectually. He doesn’t have a sliver of your capabilities. The two of you are probably high school sweethearts, prom king and queen type, but while you grew up and matured, he never did. He can’t keep up with you. Still acts the same way he did in high school, only now with more access to alcohol and money. Career wise, he doesn’t have much going for him, probably some sports related pipe dream. But you stay with him because you know how to control him and how to use him to your advantage.”

Aaron’s eyes zeroed in on Marcus, and all of the color drained from your face. The voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to object, to get the judge involved, anything, before Aaron did any more damage, but you were frozen in your spot. For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly speechless and spiraling out of control.

“That need for control is also why you’re sleeping with your assistant. It’s casual for you, but not for him anymore. You should break that off. That’s nothing new for you, though. In fact, I would bet that if we looked back at all of your affairs since your engagement, we’d find a long string of men and women, all of whom are your subordinates or of lower status than you. It’s a win-win situation — they’re more than eager to have a chance with you, and you get to stay in control. Oh, you’ll stop when you actually get married, but you continue to push that date back, as well. So…”

He leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling good about himself, and God, you could kill him. You could reach over the witness box and wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze until his whiskey colored eyes popped out of his smug, beautiful face.

Aaron lifted his chin, eyebrows raised in your direction. “Do you believe in my abilities as a profiler now, Counselor?”

That snapped you back into action. You cleared your throat and unnecessarily smoothed down your skirt in an attempt to regroup your thoughts. “Well, Agent Hotchner, thank you for that little show and tell. It’s clear that you are very passionate about your career. However, just like your profile of my client, you have no evidence for any of your unsubstantiated accusations.”

It was a pathetic attempt at saving face, and Aaron knew it, but it had to be enough for you. You turned your back towards Aaron so that you could face the judge, who, to her credit, had a perfect poker face the whole time. “Your Honor, I move to strike Agent Hotchner’s outburst” — not an outburst, Aaron was too composed to ever have one of those, but he grimaced at the word all the same — “from the record, as no question stands before the witness at this time.”

The judge looked at you dubiously, clearly debating her ruling. There shouldn’t have been any reason to worry, you were legally in the right, but there was always the chance that she wouldn’t be on your side. You noticed yourself fiddling with where your engagement ring would usually be, and you cursed yourself under your breath. How could Aaron have possibly known all of that?

“Sustained,” she said finally, “I direct the jury to disregard the witness’s, uh, example when considering the evidence.”

You let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t much of a win — everybody still heard what had happened, it was still in the back of their minds, like the ring of a bell echoing — but at least in regards to the case, you had the legal upper hand.

The judge turned back to you. “Defense, the witness is still yours, if you have any further questions.”

If you were a little more in your right mind, you would have cut your losses, but between your oath to defend your client to the best of your ability and that stupid self assured grin on Aaron’s face, you knew that you really had no choice.

Deep breath in… Slow breath out… You’re at a stalemate now.

“Agent Hotchner,” you said, causing him to perk him up in interest. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting you to continue. “Wouldn’t an ex-lawyer and an FBI agent be familiar with the rules of decorum in a courtroom?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Counselor.”

“Let me rephrase, then. Would you say that you have a history of emotional outbursts and rule breaking in your line of work? And I’ll remind you that you are still under oath.”

Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, I wouldn’t. Integrity is one of our core values, and we take that very seriously.”

With shaking hands, Marcus handed you one of the files you’d had him print out on Aaron. “If that’s so, can you explain why, since your promotion to Unit Chief in 2005, you and your team have had seven disciplinary hearings, one of which being an internal investigation into the excessive force used by one of your agents, and another being a congressional hearing?”

A sick sense of satisfaction passed over you when you saw him get visibly shocked, his poker face breaking for the first time that day. If he wanted to go for blood, you could fight back twice as hard. “I’m not at liberty to discuss either of those cases.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, Agent. So between the discrepancies in the profile, your inability to control your temper, and your history of breaking procedure, coupled with the fact that you arrested my client without any warrant by kicking in the door to an innocent civilian’s house, do you really believe that your arrest and the subsequent evidence that came from that arrest was obtained legally? Or do you just not care either way, as long as you’re able to prove that you’re right?”

Right as he opened his mouth to speak, you turned your back on him and started to walk back to your table. Aaron wasn’t even able to get a peep out before you cut him off with a sharp “Question withdrawn. At this time, the defense rests.”

“Our arrest was made on the grounds of—” Aaron tried, and you smirked to yourself. He must have been desperate if he was trying that move twice. You whipped around, gaze steeled.

“I have no further questions, Agent Hotchner,” you repeated, only letting out the slightest hint of amusement. “But thank you for your cooperation with Lady Justice today.”

Aaron’s eyes met yours, and a weight settled in the pit of your stomach. You should have hated him, but something about him had you completely and utterly entranced by him. Maybe it was the novelty of the case. Maybe it was the matching intellects and the fact that he was the only other person who could give you a challenge.

Maybe you just liked the way you got to lose control with him.

As he passed you, his arm brushed yours, and your whole body burned.

“Very cute, Counselor,” he whispered, voice dripping with condescension. “How long did it take you to come up with that little switch up?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you snapped. “I was playing chess, you were playing checkers, and that’s why you lost.”

The rest of the session went on normally, if not a little tense. To your surprise, Aaron hadn’t left immediately after his testimony, and instead took a seat in the section for the public. Good. As soon as courtroom decorum wasn’t a factor, you were sure to give him a piece of your mind.

Court adjourned for the day, and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You told Marcus to continue to push for a better plea option as you grabbed your briefcase and stormed out, pushing through the throngs of people until you could see the back of Aaron’s head.

You sped up your steps until you were right behind him, and you grabbed his wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

You pulled Aaron into an empty conference room, hoping to get some privacy before you completely blew your lid. You already had one public humiliation because of him, and you did not need another.

“What is your problem?” you hissed, locking the door behind you. “You had no right to put my personal life on blast like that.”

Aaron placed his hands on his hips, swooping the sides of his suit jacket back, and you had to make a very conscious effort to not stare. “You questioned my profiling abilities, and I proved them.”

“You didn’t prove shit,” you argued, folding your arms across your chest. “Except for the fact that you’re an insufferable bastard.”

“Are you saying that my profile was off? Because if you didn’t want to be caught committing adultery, then you shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”

You gritted your teeth and took a step towards him in a futile attempt to come across as intimidating. Even in your heels, he still seemed to be towering over you. You’d have to level the playing field somehow. You gripped his tie and used it to pull him down so that he was closer to eye level with you. “I don’t need your judgment, Aaron.”

Aaron moved closer to you, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His Adam's apple bobbed and it captivated you. “I couldn’t care less about what you do,” he said flippantly. “Matter of fact, I don’t think this fit of anger is even inherently about your little secret coming out. Do you want to know what I think it is?”

“Not at all.”

“I think,” he continued, completely ignoring your protest, “You’re angry because as much as you can dish it out, you can’t take it.”

Your grip on his tie tightened at his words. “Trust me, I can take anything,” you said, voice low and breathy.

Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips — those kissable, red stained lips of yours. You hadn’t had to reapply your lipstick once throughout the day, and he idly wondered just exactly what it would take to muss up that perfect, pouty red lip.

“I also think that for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t have control, and you liked it.” He bent down a little bit more so that his lips brushed against your ear with every word and you could feel his breath run down your spine. “Aren’t you bored of sleeping with boys who are so far beneath you?”

You’re not sure who initiated it, but the next thing you knew, your lips crashed against his, the two of you making out like it was the last kiss either of you were ever going to get. His hands felt impossibly everywhere all at once — gripping your hips, tugging at your hair, and even snaking under your work blouse to palm at your breast. His teeth nipped at the fibres of your lips. With every movement of his hands, little gasps escaped you, and you could feel the curve of his lips curling up into a smirk.

His fingers trailed up the side of your body, past the curve of your neck, and tangled themselves in your hair before yanking it back, exposing the column of your throat. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, nipping at your pulse point.

“Aaron,” you whined, trying to regain the breath he stole from your lungs. You practically melted in his arms, going completely weak at the knees, especially as his tongue trailed across the underside of your jaw. You let his tie fall from your grip, instead bringing your hands up to cup his face to pull him in for another kiss.

His lips set a bruising pace, and it caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach. You had never once been kissed like this, never once felt so all-consumed by a person. Aaron’s cologne surrounded you, making your head spin. Bruises were sure to form from how harshly he was gripping your hips, but you didn’t care. He was addicting, and you wanted more.

Hotch walked you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, his thigh shoved in between your legs, forcing your skirt to ride up. The position made his arousal obvious as he pressed against you. The way he held you was possessive, primal even, Unconsciously, you ground down on his thigh, hoping for anything to help relieve the ache between your legs.

Unfortunately for you, Aaron caught on to what you were trying to do, and he chuckled against your lips before pulling away just far enough to speak. “Look at you,” he whispered, and the raspiness of his voice only served to turn you on even more. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, and his thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging at it ever so slightly. His other hand slowly trailed its way up your thigh, nails scratching at your skin. “Skirt hiked up around your waist, desperate to get off. Your little boyfriends aren’t doing it for you anymore?”

He pressed his thigh further into you, ripping an involuntary moan from your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your hips still moving back and forth against him, not caring how needy it made you seem. “I need… I…”

“What? Big, bad lawyer doesn’t have any more smart ass comments?” he cooed sarcastically, pushing your skirt up even higher. He replaced his thigh with his hand, and his fingers ghosted over your covered pussy, teasing you, not giving you nearly enough contact. “Fuck, you’re so wet already. Go ahead, needy girl, if you’re that desperate.” Aaron yanked down your panties in one fell swoop, and you blindly kicked them off to the side. “Be a good girl and show me how much you want this.”

Without any more of a warning, one of his fingers entered you, and you let out a breathy moan that Aaron was sure to have on repeat in his mind for days to come. When the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your brain completely short circuited. You threw your head back as far as you could despite being pressed against the wall as his name clumsily tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, pressing you further against the wall. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

Electricity coursed through your veins as he added a second finger, easily finding that spot in you that made you see stars. You rocked your hips back and forth against his hand, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His lips trailed from your jawline, down your neck, and to your collarbone.

“Look at me,” Aaron ordered, tightening his grip on your chin, and your eyes shot right back open. Instead of the whiskey colored irises you had gotten used to, Aaron’s pupils were so blown that they made his eyes completely black. “I want to see you lose control all over me. Gonna make sure you come harder for me than you have for any of your boy toys.”

That wouldn’t be very difficult. Nobody had ever made you feel the way you did then, Aaron’s fingers buried deep in your cunt and lips exploring every inch of skin he could access. No part of this was for his pleasure — from the curl of his fingers to the slow circles on your clit, it was all expertly calculated to bring you to the edge with as much intensity as possible, and it was all devastatingly effective.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, and if it weren’t for the wall behind you, you would have completely lost your balance. “More, fuck, please.”

“More?” he mumbled against the column of your throat. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Coherent sentences were not an option for you at the moment, not when you were so deliciously overwhelmed with pleasure and with Aaron. Besides, how could you tell him that you wanted him to completely and utterly ruin you? That you wanted him to bend you over the conference table and pound into you until you could barely speak. You wanted Aaron to mark you and send you home to your fiance with reminders of every little thing he did to you for the days to come. You wanted raw and untamed passion. You wanted to be consumed, for him to settle in your lungs like smoke, and haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

You didn’t want nice and calculated the way every other man you’d been with had acted — you wanted Aaron Hotchner to take control.

You couldn't say any of that, so instead, you grabbed his wrist, the one that was holding your chin in place and, without breaking eye contact with him, you guided his hand down until it rested on your throat. “More,” you choked out, giving him an animalistic grin.

That was all it took. Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and desperate and swallowing all of your incoherent moans as his fingers moved harder, faster.

You clung to him like a lifeline as you felt your whole body tense up, your orgasm fast approaching. You were so fucking close and he felt so fucking good and, God, if this is what losing control felt like, then you and Aaron could do this forever and —

His fingers were gone from you, and you clenched around nothing. You cried out in protest, which only seemed to amuse him.

“Oh? Prom queen isn’t used to not getting what she wants?” Keeping his hand on your throat and you pinned against the wall, he made slow, teasing work of his belt buckle.

Your chest rose and fell in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. “What happened to watching me come undone all over you?” you shot, trying to even out your voice as much as possible. It didn’t work very well. “Did you lose your nerve?”

A dark, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess, that’s still the plan. I just never said where. I want to make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me to turn you into a moaning mess on my cock.”

In an attempt to regain some control of the situation, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah? And how do you expect to do that?”

He smirked and released your throat. Wordlessly, he grabbed your wrist, and guided your hand down your body, further and further until you reached your throbbing pussy. He used his hands to press your fingers to your clit, and you whimpered softly. God, you were dripping, and the extra stimulation didn’t help your shaking legs.

“By making you so needy and whiny that by the end of this, you're begging for me,” he hissed, lips brushing the shell of your ear with every word. He moved your fingers so that you were rubbing small, slow circles around your clit, although it wasn’t nearly enough to give any real relief. “Begging for me to come and fuck you over and over and over again. Because you know that your pathetic fiance and your string of affairs have never made you feel like this before.”

Aaron yanked your hand away from your clit and you could sob. You wanted to cum so badly that you could barely put it into words. Still holding your wrist, Aaron brought your hand up to his face. He took a brief moment to admire the way your fingers glistened, covered in your arousal, before bringing them to his lips and sucking.

Eyes wide, you made a choked noise as you committed the view of Aaron to memory. “Please, Aaron, fuck, I need you,” you whined, the start of a long string of incoherent begging. You needed him then and there, damn the consequences.

He pulled your fingers out of his mouth slowly, and you moaned at the obscene wet noise it made. “So desperate,” he murmured as he began to unbutton his slacks. “All for me. All because I edged you once.”

Aaron pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his dick, and you licked your lips involuntarily when you saw it, big and thick and leaking precum. Clearly, it gave Aaron a bit of an ego boost, because as he ran the head up and down your sensitive folds, he reminded you, “You did say you could take anything, Princess.”

Your breathing came out shaking as you shivered, waiting for him to do something — anything. You were so empty and you needed him so badly. If you didn’t get his dick in you soon, you were pretty sure you would lose your mind completely.

“Fuck me, Aaron,” you moaned, arching your back to press into him more.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips in an almost intimate gesture. “Patience is a virtue,” he chastised.

In your haze of arousal, you barely noticed him grabbing your briefcase and digging through the small pocket in the front. You especially didn’t notice his pause when his finger touched something small, round, and metal in the bottom of the bag. The only thing you cared about was him coming back to you, holding up a condom packet with a smirk.

“I knew I’d find one somewhere in your briefcase.” You let the comment slide, the excitement at the prospect of sex with Aaron Hotchner outweighing any jackass comment he could make. Aaron made quick work of putting on the condom. The second he was done, one of his hands ran up your thigh, getting a good grip on it before pulling it up and around his waist.

“Do you feel how wet you are for me? How willing you were to give up control? All for me? That—” Lips pressed to your ear, he pushed his cock into you, bottoming out with one thrust. You threw your head back in pleasure. “—Is playing chess, sweetheart.”

Aaron dropped his forehead to the crook of your neck as he began pounding into you at a desperate pace. He had held off on his own pleasure for long enough, and now he was chasing his orgasm with a ruthless determination. One hand stayed gripping your thigh, the other one braced against the wall next to your head. Aaron nipped at your neck in between moans of praise for you.

“I — oh, fuck — knew it,” he groaned, digging his fingers deeper into your thigh. “You wanted somebody to take control. Somebody who knows how to please you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You were an incoherent mess at this point, his name tumbling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew how to say. At that moment, it probably was.

“Finally, that bratty mouth of yours is good for something. You sound so pretty, moaning out my name. Say it again.” A particularly deep thrust caused you to tug at his hair. “Louder.”

Never before had you met somebody like Aaron Hotchner, and you weren’t sure if you ever would again, so you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself get lost in the absolute pleasure he was providing. You memorized everything you could — the way the calluses on his hands felt against your skin, the way he moaned out your name, how deliciously full you felt, and how for the first time in your life you felt truly seen — so that you could suspend the moment in amber to preserve in the back of your mind.

“Please,” you begged, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails. “I’m so close. Fuck, Aaron, you feel so good, please.”

Aaron tore his lips from your throat, choosing instead to press his forehead against yours. His lips brushed yours with every word he spoke, so close that you were practically kissing him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured. “Be a good girl. Be a good girl and come. All over my dick.”

When you came, it was with a cry of his name as your whole body shuddered. You clung to him as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts began to stutter, and he took the opportunity to capture your lips in one last, scorching kiss, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You think he moaned something as he came, but you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of skin slapping against skin. He fucked you through his orgasm, making sure that you felt every single inch of him. As if you could ever forget it.

The two of you stayed where you were for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of being full a little longer. Your walls fluttered around Aaron, which caused him to muffle his whimpers into your throat.

“Aaron…” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment. “That was so—”

“I know.”

“We shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know.” He pulled back just enough to leave a lingering kiss on your lips, and your whole body burned. “But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.” The confession lingered in the hair for a tense second because both of you seemed to remember where you were.

Aaron slowly pulled out of you, an act that looked almost painful for him when you let out an involuntary moan at the feeling. He could have spent all day in you, if given the chance.

The two of you adjusted yourselves in silence, both of you hoping to be able to leave the room with some semblance of professionalism. At the very least, the goal was to not look like you had just had sex in a courthouse conference room. Shame and embarrassment flooded you — what had you been thinking?

Once you felt that you were presentable enough, you grabbed your briefcase and tried to ignore Aaron burning a hole in the back of your head with his gaze.

“Well, Aaron, this was fun.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around at some point.”

You were two steps away from the door when you heard his smug, courthouse voice come back in full swing.

“Forgetting something?”

You turned around in a huff, ready to go right back to arguing with him, but what you saw made your whole body heat up in embarrassment. There was Aaron with a self-satisfied grin and dangling off his finger was your panties.

“These are cute,” he mused. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to fully appreciate them.”

You rushed over there, fully prepared to snatch them out of his hand. “And you never will,” you shot, but even as you said it, you didn’t make much of an effort to take them out of his hands. You just stared at him and his swollen lips and mussed hair, all your doing.

Ever the gentleman, Aaron started to hand your underwear back to you, but instead of taking it back like you knew you should have done, you covered his hand with yours, closing it in a fist around your panties.

“Who says you can’t?” you whispered, guiding his pantie-filled hand down to his pockets. “This way… You can keep it as collateral. To make sure I’ll come and see you again.”

His breath hitched in his throat as you guided him to put your panties into his suit pocket, and you were glad to be the one surprising him this time.

“I don’t care about your fiance,” Aaron started, and you braced yourself for the worse. “But I’m not interested in being the ‘other man’ to your affairs with your assistants, too.”

“Consider it ended,” you promised, not caring how desperate or easy it made you look. You wanted to keep Aaron around for a long, long time.

Just until the wedding, you corrected yourself.

You slung your briefcase over your shoulder, wincing as it dug into a bruise that Aaron had left. It would be there for a while — you’d have to find a way to hide it from Tony until it faded. The thought made you stupidly giddy. “I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

He nodded in goodbye, and you slipped out of the conference room on shaking legs. As soon as the door closed behind you, you reached into your bag, and reluctantly slipped on your engagement ring.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #my writing #criminal minds

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tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

aura

A/n: Hi everyone! this is a tad bit different from the things i usually write (I think) as i wanted to switch things up a little bit. I’m kinda nervous to post it so pleaseee please let me know your thoughts! As always please enjoy!! thank you to everyone who beta read for me btw :)

summary: witch!y/n can see auras and harry is blue

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N has always been able to easily empathize with others. She could see others' emotional energy— their aura— and this made it easy to know exactly what they were feeling. Not only could she see auras, but she could take away anyone’s emotional turmoil just by touching them.

One of Y/N’s most vivid memories from her childhood was when her best friend came to school one morning in tears over the death of her pet fish. When Y/N leaned in to give her a hug, she felt an overwhelming heaviness overtake her body as soon as they made contact. Upon pulling away from the hug, her friend’s demeanor was completely changed. Instead of being sad over the death of her fish, she was able to instead reflect on all the good times she had with him. Her friend was fine for the rest of the day, but Y/N was left grieving over a fish she never even owned.

Y/N went home that day, confused. How was it that her friend was so easily cheered up just from a hug? Was that all it took for Y/N to make others feel better? If that was the case, she decided she wanted to be a ‘Professional Hugger’ when she grew up. As time went on, Y/N learned that she didn’t even have to hug others to rid them of their mental pain. The slightest touch from her instantly made anyone she came into contact with feel better.

It took a few months for Y/N to realize it was her touch that healed others. Sure, that mental anguish then became hers to carry, but how many people could say they could heal someone just by touching them? If that was the price she had to pay, then so be it. From that point on Y/N made it a point to help anyone she could.

As Y/N got older and her skill with this power grew, she learned to redirect the painful energy elsewhere so she didn’t always have to sit with it. It worked some of the time, but it was something she was still learning to master. Y/N wasn’t always successful in doing this, though. While whoever Y/N touched went about their day feeling great, she would experience their emotions so intensely that she felt as if she were coming down with a cold. Y/N dealt with it in silence because the way she saw it if she was blessed with this gift, she had to be selfless and put it to good use. Y/N was a firm believer that all the good she put out would come back to her in another life at least ten times over.

It was difficult for Y/N not to touch everyone she saw whose aura reflected sadness, anxiety, or worry. She tried to stick to only doing this to people she knew, but there were some instances where Y/N encountered someone who was just so clearly unhappy that she could not help herself.

For example, right now.

Y/N immediately sensed this stranger’s emotional turmoil as soon as they entered the space. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday. Y/N had the longest, most physically demanding day at work and the last thing she wanted to do was go home and cook. Even though she had just gone grocery shopping two days prior, she stopped by her favorite Thai place on the way home. Y/N was in the middle of ordering when their presence quite literally took her breath away, causing her to stumble over her words.

She turned to look over her shoulder at the person who was so greatly distracting her and locked eyes with the most pitiful looking stranger she’d seen all day. The first thing Y/N noticed about him was his hair. It was unruly, like he had just gotten out of bed. She also noticed how tall he was–– if he had just a couple more inches on him, he would’ve had to crane his neck to enter the establishment. Upon making eye contact with Y/N the man quickly looked down at his shoes, twiddling his thumbs. His aura was a mixture of indigo and dark red when Y/N looked at him. Anger and sensitivity.

“Do you still need a moment?”

The voice of the cashier breaks Y/N out of her analytical thoughts of the stranger standing a few feet behind her. She nods, re-situating her purse on her left shoulder.

“Uh, please. He can go ahead if he’s ready.” Y/N gestures behind her and the cashier nods, asking the man behind her if he was ready to order yet. He steps up to the front counter, eyes trained on his feet as if he couldn’t walk without watching every step he took.

His energy was intense and Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could ignore it. Something about him was reeling her in— his aura wasn’t looking too bright at the moment, but she could just tell it usually was. She felt compelled to take away his pain, and she hadn’t spoken a single word to him yet. While he was placing his order, Y/N internally debated on whether or not she should “accidentally” graze his arm when they walked past each other. Would that be weird? What if she wasn’t able to redirect his negative energy elsewhere? While she did love to help whenever she could, some people’s emotional baggage was just a little too heavy. She didn’t know him. For all she knew, he could be a killer!

He turns back around once he’s finished ordering and stands by the entrance, out of Y/N’s way. The pair lock eyes again as Y/N makes her way back to the counter to order. Once again, he quickly looked away from her. Y/N’s trying to ignore the annoying nagging feeling she gets when she wants to help someone, but it’s unrelenting. She makes up her mind that once she’s done, she will approach this stranger to get a better read on his emotions.

“Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it?” She cringes at her choice of a conversation starter and hopes he doesn’t notice. Y/N folds her hands across her chest, forcing herself not to reach out to him. He nods.

“Lovely.”

The tone of his voice causes Y/N to wince. It was sharp and short. He was clearly not in the mood to converse. Although Y/N knows this, she continues on.

“I love this place. I think I come here at least twice a month–– what’s your go-to order?”

The man turns to fully face Y/N this time, his aura now more red than blue. He was beginning to grow annoyed with her small talk.

“Green curry and stir-fried vegetables.” He doesn’t ask Y/N for her order, so she takes this as her signal to stop speaking to him. The bell above the door jingles, signaling another persons’ entry. Their aura is shining gold–– Y/N would not have to interfere.

Y/N moves away from this man, deciding not to speak to him anymore. She was getting better at accepting the fact that no matter how much she wanted to, it was impossible to help everyone. As he collected his food from the front and turned to leave, not sparing Y/N another glance, she silently hoped that whatever was wrong with this man would not last.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry was in a funk. There was no denying it, and he was over feeling so terribly. He hadn’t been feeling like himself for far too long. It seemed like everyone wanted something from him when he had nothing left to give. Jeff had set unrealistic deadlines, his mother was upset with him for not calling enough, and he was exhausted from constantly traveling and waking up in a new time zone. Harry needed a break.

Harry’s mind wandered to the pretty girl in the Thai place. She seemed inquisitive. She was very curious about his go-to order, and she was standing a little too close for his comfort. Harry was surprised when she didn’t ask him for a picture. He wasn’t trying to be cocky, but nearly everyone he met asked him for a picture–– he was Harry Styles. However, it was almost like this girl didn’t know who he was. She didn’t seem starstruck in the slightest.

While Harry was waiting for the light to change, it dawned on him that he may have been a tad bit rude to her. He noticed her happy expression drop when he shut her down, but he didn’t feel like talking. He liked to move from place to place as quickly as he could in the off chance he got recognized and it started circulating on Twitter. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little bad. She was sweet like honey–– or so it seemed. In their brief interaction, she bought him comfort.

Harry wanted to turn back around and go back to the restaurant to check if she was still there. What would be the point, though? She would most likely be long gone by the time he made it back over there, as she did order immediately after him. Harry’s torn out of his thoughts when the cars behind him start honking, and he realizes the light must’ve turned green. He decides not to think about the confrontation anymore.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The world works in mysterious ways.

Y/N was sure she’d never encounter the grumpy man from her favorite Thai restaurant again but yet here she was in another situation that involved take-out and him. His aura was dark indigo this time. Stress? Isolation? Y/N didn’t know, but she wanted to help him. In her eyes, there was no reason for anyone to be down this badly. She just wanted everyone to be as happy as she (almost) always was! She takes a deep breath before approaching him.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry was absorbed in a text conversation involving his manager and stylist when a sweet, familiar voice interrupts him.

“I’m okay, thank you. Yourself? Also, we’ve spoken before, I believe.”

She nods, a troubled look on her face. “We have. At the Thai place. How are you, though? Really.”

Harry was beginning to find her a bit strange (but still incredibly gorgeous, even more than he did before now that he got a good look at her face). Why was she so concerned with how he was feeling? Was she going to ask him for a picture or not? As Harry opened his mouth to again tell her he was fine, the desire to tell her how he was really feeling came over him. So he did.

“Honestly? ‘M exhausted. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling and my manager wants a lot from me. I think I jus’ need a break.”

He radiated red. Anxiety? Anger?

“What do you do for work?” Now it was Harry’s turn to wear the troubled look.

“I don’t mean this to be rude, but you’re serious?”

Y/N nods, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder. Just as quickly as she touches him she removes her hand, and she’s almost certain he didn’t even feel her touch. She notices him let out a visible sigh of relief, his aura changing from a red to a pale yellow. Optimism. Positivity. This causes her to let out her own sigh of relief.

“You’re feeling better! That’s great.” Y/N was not able to redirect his negative energy as the restaurant was too crowded and she didn’t want to risk putting it on anyone else, and she was feeling him. He was stressed, overworked, and anxious. Y/N just wanted to go home and nap, no longer in the mood for the food she just ordered.

Harry decided she was definitely odd but in the most endearing way possible. “How do you know I’m feeling better? Wait, am I feeling better?” Y/N watches as he works through his emotions, his aura ranging in color before settling back on pale yellow.

“Are you?” Y/N knows the answer to this of course, but she wants to hear him say it.

“I think I am. I’ve been feelin’ horrible all week but saying how I felt out loud to you automatically made me feel better. Kind of weird, but I won’t question it. Thank you for asking…,” Harry scrunches his nose, a distasteful expression on his face. “I don’t think ‘ve gotten your name yet.”

Y/N gives him a small, forced smile. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around, I think.” Before Harry can tell her his name she’s gone.

And she didn’t even grab her food.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks. How one person could carry around all this emotional baggage was beyond her, but she wanted it gone. Immediately.

There was a spell Y/N kept on hand for times like these. Times when she couldn’t redirect the negative energy before it got to her. Times when it was just too much to carry. Y/N had regretfully done this spell more times than she could count and was an expert at reciting it from memory. The vile was open and ready to capture the negative energy that would shortly be leaving her.

Y/N works quickly to complete the process, unsure of what time her roommate would come barreling through the door. She had caught her doing things she deemed strange one too many times (she thought her roommate almost figured out who she really was when she caught her having a full-on conversation with her cat, Sapphire, once). She was beginning to run out of excuses for her “unusual” behavior. Y/N mutters under her breath, willing the energy to exit her.

She notices right away when it leaves her. She feels lighter— like her usual self again. She guides the energy into the vile and immediately seals it, hurrying into her room to lock it away. Y/N kept a box in her closet that she only opened if she had to. It was her Pandora’s Box, in a way. Nothing bad would be released into the world if she opened the box, but if the viles’ were opened then the bad energy she trapped would be re-released into the world, finding its way back to their original owners.

Y/N feels like she can breathe again once she bolts the box. She hoped that whatever he was doing, wherever this man was, he was still feeling okay.

Also, for his sake and everyone’s around him, she hoped he got a break.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was on Harry’s mind.

Something about her was magnetic. He wished he’d gotten more information about her than only her name, but she left him in such a hurry he could hardly process their conversation. Harry felt like a madman! He searched ‘Y/F/N Y/L/N’ on all social media platforms, but he couldn’t find her anywhere. It was dumb luck that he had ran into her twice in such a short time span, and he hoped good things happened in threes and he would see her again.

He was almost certain that Jeff thought he was losing his mind.

Harry tried explaining his interaction with Y/N first at the Thai food spot and again when he was getting Greek food, but Jeff thought Harry was so sleep deprived he was imagining things.

“How did you see a beautiful, young woman who didn’t freak out or ask for a picture? Doesn’t make sense. You’re Harry Styles.”

“That’s what I thought!” Harry exclaimed wildly. He holds his phone up. “I’m thinkin’ she really doesn’t know who I am, though. I couldn’t find her on any social media platform. It’s like she’s off the grid or somethin’.”

“No social media at all? A little weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s fitting for her. If you met her then you would understand what I meant,” Harry felt the need to defend this alluring stranger who took away his pain just by listening to him speak. “Look at me, Jeff. Don’t I seem so much better than I was jus’ a few days ago?”

His manager couldn’t deny that Harry’s mood (and attitude) had done a 360. He didn’t complain about being woken up early and he happily consented to do not one, but two interviews.

“I mean, yeah? I guess––”

“Thanks to her!” Harry cuts him off. “I’m telling you. I need to see her again and thank her for whatever she did.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Harry leaned back against the counter in Jeff’s kitchen, mulling the question over. It was a valid one. How was he going to do that? He already tried to no avail to find her on social media. He hardly knew anything about her. All he knew was her name, that they seemed to have a similar taste in food, and that she went to the Thai spot at least two times a month.

That was it.

In one last effort to contact Y/N again, Harry planned to go to the Thai food place, pray the cashier who was working when he went in earlier this week was there, and leave his number with her. It was a risky move, probably not the smartest thing he could do, and Jeff would for sure drop him as a client if he knew Harry was doing things like this. Harry didn’t care. Phone numbers could always be changed, and he was desperate.

If Harry couldn’t contact Y/N, he would wait for her to contact him.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was confused.

She stopped at her favorite Thai food spot (sooner in the month than anticipated, but she had another long day), ordered her usual, and was about to leave when the sweet cashier who was always there insisted she takes the piece of paper with ‘HARRY’ followed by a phone number scrawled on it.

“For me?” Y/N was confused. Something like this had never happened to her before. I mean, does it happen to anyone?

“He insisted,” the cashier warmly responds. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back–– knew you would soon enough.” Y/N’s face flushes at this and she makes a mental note to start cooking more.

“Well…,” Y/N trails off, not sure what to say. “Thank you? I guess I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ve done well.” The cashier’s aura shines pink. Affection. Love.

“You should. Take care!”

Y/N leaves the restaurant with the crumpled piece of paper in her sweaty hands, eager to get home as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something told her not to disregard him. His reaching out was a sign–– and Y/N did not ignore signs.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“She hasn’t called me yet.”

“It’s been five days, Harry. She probably doesn’t eat Thai food every day. I can’t believe you did something so fuckin’ stupid…”

Jeff’s reprimanding fades into the background as Harry drifts off into daydreaming about what it would be like if– when- Y/N finally called him. Would she find him obsessed? What if she thought he was stalking her? Harry decided that when she called, he would immediately clear things up. He’d thank her for her kindness (his trademark) and see how she was doing. She left the Greek food place so abruptly when he last saw her that he was under the impression something was bothering her. Harry wasn’t sure what he could do to help if something was troubling her, but he could at least extend a listening ear to her as she did to him.

“Harry, are you listening?”

“What was that?”

Jeff shakes his head at Harry, an amused expression on his face. “Man, I hope she calls you soon.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The phone rang three times. After the third ring, his gruff voice came through the other end of the phone.

“Hello?”

Y/N sharply inhales, suddenly growing nervous. “Is this Harry?” Silence. Y/N was preparing to repeat herself when he spoke again.

“Is this Y/N?”

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to be silent. Harry says nothing, awaiting her response. “Well, it is. You sound familiar–– how do we know each other?”

“Now that ’m actually able to talk to you, it sounds a bit silly…” He seems unsure of himself. “Promise y’won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

Y/N says it with such conviction that Harry believes her, and it gives him the confidence he needs to proceed. “I was havin’ a hard time a couple of weeks ago. I was in line to get some falafel and you asked me what was wrong. What was really wrong.” Y/N says nothing, so Harry continues.

“I told you I was exhausted from work ‘nd wanted a break. That’s it, y’know? But I immediately felt better afterward. I’ve actually been feelin’ great ever since. I jus’ wanted to thank you, is all. I know it sounds weird and it’s probably all in m’head but I feel like talkin’ with you was just what I needed.” Harry’s rambling, nerves finally catching up to him. She was gorgeous and he was afraid she would think he was insane.

“I’m glad to hear you’re still feeling better, Harry. That’s great.” Y/N’s voice is gentle and soft and to Harry, hearing her speak was just as comforting as getting a hug from his mum.

“I’m also really sorry that I was such a dick when you tried talkin’ to me the first time at the Thai spot,'' Harry feels embarrassed, stumbling over his words. “Not sure if you remember but I was just havin’ a shit day. I thought you were gonna ask for a picture and I just wasn’t in the mood.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything and Harry winces, certain he’s offended her when she starts talking again.

“That’s okay. I know you were having a bad day.”

“How did you know I was having a bad day?” Again, Y/N pauses before answering.

“Well, I didn’t do anything to you for you to be so rude to me. I knew it had to be a problem involving yourself.” Harry notices that Y/N speaks very slowly. It’s as if she considers every word before she speaks. He’s intrigued by her.

“That is very true.” Y/N doesn’t say anything so Harry takes it as his cue to keep talking. “I’m sorry if me leaving my number at the restaurant creeped you out. I hope you didn’t feel obligated to call me.”

“Not at all. I’ve actually been wondering how you were doing since we had our encounter at the Greek place–– that doesn’t creep you out either, right?”

Y/N was hypnotizing. Harry was infatuated.

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Course.”

“Why would I want a picture with you?”

Harry had to get to know her.

“Do y’wanna grab coffee sometime?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Something was definitely different about Y/N–– Harry just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. To begin, she truly had absolutely no idea who Harry was. At first, he thought she was just messing with him, but he quickly realized she was being serious. Y/N said she had “heard of” One Direction, but she never listened to the band’s music. Harry supposed that could account for her being unaware as to who he was. Maybe he wasn’t a “household name” like Jeff always said he was.

Harry was also right about her not having social media. When he asked Y/N why she didn’t use it, she said she preferred to occupy her time with more substantial things. She didn’t elaborate, and Harry didn’t ask. She was however very interested to learn what a big social media following Harry had. He tweeted the word “Do” and they watched as the internet went wild trying to decipher what he meant. He even started trending worldwide for it. It made sense to Y/N after that why Harry was so intent on not taking off his sunglasses and beanie.

Y/N was having a great time analyzing his aura.

She noticed that whenever someone glanced in their direction, his aura briefly turned red. Anxiety. When Y/N attempted to make a joke, it turned pink (she chose not to analyze that too much). Mainly though, his aura shone that beautiful, pale yellow that Y/N loved to see the most. Harry was doing well. He was happy. Y/N would not have to intervene today.

She couldn’t explain why, but she felt obligated to help him. Even though his energy made her feel so terribly last time, she would’ve still taken away his pain if he was blue without even thinking twice about it. Why was she so drawn to him? Y/N wasn’t sure what it was about Harry that drew her in, but she knew she would do anything to help him. Anything to see him happy.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry felt the same way.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N missed Harry terribly.

She wanted to call him–– just a brief conversation to see if he was doing okay. He mentioned when they last saw each other nearly two weeks prior that he was going to be very busy in the coming days, and she wondered if he still was. Harry told Y/N that he loved his job (of course he did!), but being so busy sometimes really hurt him. Not just mentally, but physically as well.

She longed for him.

Y/N searched through her call list for Harry’s number and immediately tapped it, listening closely as it rang. She was about to end the call in defeat when Harry answered at the last moment.

“Hello?” He sounded tired, under the weather.

“Harry,” Y/N begins. “I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I just wanted to see if all was well. How do you feel?”

“Hi Y/N,” Harry perks up slightly, but he still sounds a bit congested. “‘M not sure if you can tell from m’voice, but I’ve got a cold.”

Although Y/N wishes with every fiber of her being that she could rid Harry of his cold, she cannot. However, she can make sure all is well with his mind.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she pauses for a moment as she usually does, hoping Harry can tell how sincere she’s being on the other end. “How do you feel though? Are you still feeling happy?”

“Jus’ feelin’ not the greatest again. I’ve been stuck in my house with this fuckin’ cold and haven’t seen anyone in days.”

“I can come over.” Y/N doesn’t think twice before offering. If he had to suffer physically, she at least wanted him to feel okay mentally.

“I don’t want to get you sick. It’s okay–”

“I don’t mind, really. I’ll keep you company.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/N’s sure she must’ve creeped him out. They don’t even know each other well and here she was offering to come over to his home and keep him company while he was sick. She’s about to rescind her offer when he lets out a loud sigh.

“My manager might kill me if he finds out I did this… but sure, let me give you my address.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As soon as Harry got off the phone, he sprung into action. His home was a mess. There were crumpled up tissues all over the floor beside his bed, a sink full of dishes, and he’s pretty sure every bathroom in his house was a mess. He opted to not have anyone over to clean up after him as he didn’t want to risk getting anyone sick and man did it show.

He quickly gathered up all the tissues and threw them into the bin in the corner of his bedroom, surveying the rest of the mess before deciding he and Y/N wouldn’t be spending time in there, anyway. He was going to focus on the mess downstairs, instead. He loaded his dishwasher and record time and used disinfectant wipes on every surface he could in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. He then surveyed the bathrooms and cleaned the one with the least amount of mess, closing the doors to the other ones. He would worry about those some other time.

Harry was nervous to have Y/N over. He was just nervous to be around her in general. He missed her over the past couple of weeks but he opted out of contacting her, terrified that he was a bother. After Harry finished cleaning in record time, it dawned on him that he didn’t really have any food prepared to offer Y/N. If she was coming over to his house just to cheer him up, the least he could do was offer her something to eat. Harry hated doing things like this, but he was desperate. He texted his assistant and asked if they could drop off some food from the Greek place he and Y/N liked, making a mental note to find out what other places she enjoyed eating at for next time.

Y/N gets to his house much sooner than he was anticipating.

He rushes to his front door, looking through the peephole before opening the door. Y/N has a big smile on her face and looks absolutely gorgeous, as she usually does. She has a huge water bottle in one hand and a tote bag with the phases of the moon slung over her shoulder. He’s never seen it before and thinks it’s lovely.

“Hi,” Harry says breathlessly. “Thanks for coming. Uh, come in please.”

Y/N smiles and takes a small step forward, crossing the threshold of Harry’s home. She thought it was incredible–– and rather clean. “What can I do to help?”

Harry was getting used to Y/N’s straightforward approach to things, so he’s not phased by her question. “Jus’ you bein’ here is great, honestly.”

Y/N can see that Harry’s aura is that deep indigo that she’s not fond of, but she wonders if he can work through it himself before she steps in. “So it’s just your cold that’s got you feeling down? Can we sit down and talk about it?”

“Sure. Also, not sure if you’ve eaten yet or not but I’m gettin’ some food dropped off for us.”

“That sounds great, I haven’t had dinner yet so thank you. Can we sit?” Y/N doesn’t wait for Harry to answer. She makes her way to his plush couch in the adjoining room, walking through the place like she’s been there before. Harry loves it.

“I think I told you the gist of it on the phone earlier,” Harry says, settling onto the couch beside her. He leaves some space in between them since he doesn’t want to risk getting her sick, but he wishes he was closer to her. “I’ve been feelin’ down ‘cause I’ve been stuck in the house with this cold. S’not fun.” Y/N hums in understanding. Harry notices that she reaches out her hand to him slightly and then quickly retracts it, but he doesn’t mention it. Y/N says nothing, just continues looking inquisitively at him. Harry doesn’t feel uncomfortable under her gaze–– he stares back.

“Something’s making you feel nervous. What is it?”

Harry isn’t surprised that she was able to figure out there was more to what he was feeling than just loneliness. How was he supposed to tell Y/N that she was the reason for his nervousness, though?

“It’s nothing. I promise.”

“I don’t think so.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck nervously. “How are you so good at reading me? S’like you’re inside my brain, Y/N.” He lets out a little chuckle after saying this but quickly stops when he realizes Y/N isn’t laughing along with him.

“You’re just easy to read,” she cooly responds after a second. “Why are you so nervous? Do you have something coming up for work?”

“Not really…”

“Then what is it? Something going on with someone in your family?”

Harry was quickly realizing Y/N wouldn’t drop this unless Harry gave her an answer. He silently hopes for the best before answering her.

“It’s you,” he mumbles, shifting around uncomfortably on his couch. “You make me nervous.” Y/N watches as his aura changes from red and blue to pink, and his cheeks flush slightly.

“Why do I make you nervous?”

“You just do.”

“Why? Have I done something to hurt you?”

Y/N was so painfully oblivious that it was cute. Harry was quickly realizing that his heart doubled in size every time he talked to her.

“No. Quite the opposite, actually,” Harry reaches in the pocket of his sweatpants for a tissue, facing away from her while he pauses to blow his nose. “You’re so… you’re jus’ very interesting. Mesmerizing, really.”

Y/N feels her skin heat up at Harry’s compliment. His aura is still shining pink, the brightest pink she’s ever seen since meeting him. She was sad to see there was still quite a bit of indigo and red, though. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

Before Y/N can stop herself, she reaches out to grab Harry’s hand. Immediately she feels his energy transfer to her and without thinking, Y/N flicks her finger out of force of habit. The beautifully potted Pothos that Harry has sitting on his television stand instantly droops, leaves turning brown and wilted.

Harry’s completely perplexed.

The first thing he notices is that he’s feeling better. Great, even. He feels as good as he felt after the interaction he had with Y/N in the Greek food place all those weeks ago. The next thing he notices is that his gorgeous Pothos, a plant that is nearly impossible to kill, is dead.

And it was all Y/N’s doing.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

please let me know what you thought!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #aura #thanks for reading!

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le-poor-writer · 3 years

Text

Serve at First Sight (Kageyama Tobio x F!Reader)

"I bet I can..." Hinata mumbled and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Hah?" Kageyama glared back. "What did you just say?"

"I'm not good at setting. BUT I BET I CAN HIT THE LONGEST AND FASTEST SERVE!"

"IS THAT A CHALLENGE?"

"YOU WANNA GO NOW?"

"Uh... Kageyama, Hinata, Stop messing around or else you'll get an earful from Daichi-san." Yamaguchi tries to mediate the situation. The last time the idiotic duo did something stupid, all the first years had to run extra laps. And he was not up for that today.

"No use talking to idiots Yamaguchi." Tsukki sneered. "They have an IQ capacity of a teaspoon."

Hinata stood at the line of the court, deciding to go first. Throwing the ball into the air, he jumped as high as he could. As if he were a crow that leaped into the sky. His ball managed to land a good one meter away from line of the opposite side. A loud bang resonating the court and he beamed smugly at his tall opponent. Kageyama had a ball ready in hands as he took Hinata's place. Itching to outperformed the record set by the orange-head. Closing his eyes, he briefly replayed Oikawa's diabolical jump serve from their previous practice match. He knew he was a hundred years too early to be able to do that. Doesn't mean he won't try his luck though.

With a deep exhale, he took flight. Blocking out all sounds surrounding him, save that of his squeaking shoes and the volleyball as he slapped it forward. The stinging sensation felt on his hand causing him to grin. Not quite like Oikawa's, but still powerful. This is it, it will definitely plunge further than Hinata's. And it did. The ball flew pass that one meter mark. And hit a person. Kageyama's eyes blinked twice before the situation finally seeped through his thick skull. He had hit someone's head! Suddenly he could hear his surroundings again. Hinata panicked scream. Yamaguchi running towards the unfortunate human being who fell to the ground. Tsukki trying not to laugh at this slapstick comedy.

Kageyama sprinted towards the person. A hundred thoughts running through his mind. Is the person alright? Is he going to get in trouble with Daichi for this? Where are the third years anyway? Most importantly, when was that person there? How is it he did not notice them? What were they doing there in the first place? Surely no one would actually collapsed from that hit, right? He stood behind Yamaguchi who was trying to communicate with the seemingly unconscious person. And that was when Kageyama noticed, the person was a girl. A petite girl. He kneeled beside Yamaguchi. She seemed to be a little pale.

"Hello?" Yamaguchi tapping her shoulder. "Excuse me, can you hear me?"

No reply.

"KAGEYAMA KILLED SOMEONE!" Hinata hollered.

"What are you going to do now Kageyama?" Despite knowing that she only passed out, Tsukki decided to humour Hinata.

"I'll take her to the nurse's office." Immediately he carried her and jogged out of the court. Hoping not to run into anyone. Especially Daichi.

He couldn't help but glance at her face every three seconds. Wondering if she will wake up midway. But she didn't and that worried him more. If it weren't for her soft faint breaths he would have thought that he actually committed manslaughter with his jump serve. Besides, she has such a small frame. He was afraid if he really did break her. Kageyama held her closer to his body. Noticing how she fit snugly in his arms. And when looked closely, she's actually really cute. A blush spread quickly all over his face. What was he thinking? He doesn't even know her.

~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) blinked slowly. Feeling slightly dazed.

She woke up late today, all because of that stupid extra Japanese literature homework that had to be submitted during first period. And because she woke up late, she skipped breakfast. She wanted to get something during lunch, but had to drop by the school library to return some books that were due today. Well what do you know, apparently everyone needed to return their books today. If she had known she would've asked her friends to at least get her melon bread. She had about 10 minutes left before lunch ended, but she ran into her senior and was reminded to submit the club activities report today.

It was so hard to focus on classes for the rest of the afternoon. She drank lots of water in hopes to delay the impending dizziness. It was somewhat working. She only needed to wait until clubs and activities time. She'll get a sugary drink from the vending machine, then tell the club leader that she's going to head home early. But karma really had to be a bitch today. Her wallet was not in her bag. (Y/n) dreaded the fact that she might have dropped it somewhere. Searching for her wallet with this now nasty migraine is really going to be such a pain. That is until she suddenly remembered she left it in her drawer at home. She had forgotten about it amidst the rush.

(Y/n) crouched in front of the vending machine. What are the gods playing at exactly. Is it really so hard to get a single bite? Is this karma for denying Mr. Snuggles his treat last week? Well it was not her fault that he knocked over her pudding off the table! She was on the verge of tears when she heard the sound of volleyballs. Oh right, the vending machine was sort of close to the volleyball court... Didn't Yachi say she was recently the co-manager for Karasuno's volleyball club along with that beautiful senior Kiyoko. There is hope. She only needed a little money to get that small carton of drink.

She stood up quickly and regretted it. God, this migraine is killing her. With every ounce of determination she had left, she dragged her feet towards the court. Swaying a little every now and then. The sounds were getting louder, The ball hitting the court, shoes squeaking and people yelling? This is a good thing, it meant that she was getting closer. This is also a bad thing, because it's splitting her skull. Everything around her blurred as she entered the hall. Shit, where is Yachi? She took a few more steps before she felt a hard impact on her head. Dear lord that hurts like hell. And she lost all control of her body before everything went black.

"Oi." a gruff voice distracted her thoughts.

She sat up immediately. Hitting her head on the bed post in the process. She has realized by now that she must have passed out and someone from the volleyball club took her to the nurses office. It must have been this boy sitting beside her. But that still didn't mean she wouldn't be caught off guard. She has always been somewhat intimidated by the male species. Especially those tall towering ones that had to bend a little to talk to her. It's one of the unfortunate things one has to endure being 4'10 and having a small frame. People often joked that she could fit in a suitcase. Though seeing her other shorter friends did brought her pleasure, it still doesn't change the fact that a lot of people around her were giants.

"Idiot."

"Excuse me?" she glared. What's the big idea calling her an idiot out of nowhere. He was the one who surprised her. Sitting on a stool at her bedside, ain't that too close for a stranger, sir? Who is he again? The volleyball club is pretty popular here in Karasuno after they managed to get into the finals of Inter high recently. It was unfortunate that they lost to Aoba Johsai, but everyone acknowledged what a monster the school was. Yachi said everyone felt down but it didn't dampened their spirit, for their next chance will be the Spring Tournament.

"S-sorry." the guy replied.

Dark eyes darting away from her face. She could make out an intimidating look on his face. Eyebrows furrowing sternly. Lips set on a grim line. Yet his cheeks flushed. Or was it because of the orange hue from the setting sun (she couldn't really tell), which also made his black hair glow. It dawned upon (y/n) that if he could just smooth away his frown, he would be handsome (she thinks). And if only he weren't being gruffy. Wait a minute. Tall volleyball player, black hair, intimidating frowning face but yet somehow still good looking?

"I'm Kageyama Tobio-"

"I know."

Silence... Well that was awkward.

She cleared her throat. "I'm (L/n) (Y/n). From Class 5. Um, Yachi's friend."

"Oh." Shoot. He didn't know she was Yachi's friend. What will the manager say about this. "I'm sorry. That my jump serve knocked you out."

"No no no! I was actually a little hypoglycemic. So your uh, jump serve was just the final nail in the coffin." Damn, she knew that getting hit by any ball was going to hurt. But the ball just now, it felt like it could tear her head off. Or maybe that's just an exaggeration of being starved the whole day. She realized his expression went from frowning to horrifying. "N-not that it will literally be the final nail to my coffin! It was just an expression. Maybe not a good one. Sorry I'm just bad with words when it comes to strangers. I mean not that you're an absolute stranger. It's just that- I'm sorry, I'm blabbering too much."

"Not at all!" he yelled. Ah, he got too animated. He didn't understand why. But he just thought everything about this girl is cute. From her petite stature that makes him want to shield her from the wind. To her way of talking that showed just how shy and awkward she was as how it is with him. Trying to reassure him that it was fine. He couldn't understand this sudden grip in his heart and the tingling sensation at his fingertips. Though maybe it was because he hasn't touch the volleyball for a few hours now.

Another awkward silence ensues.

"Anyways," (Y/n) was still a bit shy. She was after all talking to one of the most popular boys at school. But seeing as how he is now, she thought she could loosen up her guard a bit. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"You wear glasses?"

They rushed back together to the volleyball court. Yachi attacked her with a hug as she lamented about the news she heard from her fellow peers. Daichi scolding him to be careful next time whilst Tanaka giving him his infamous gangster glare. Hinata coming forward with his head down as he presented (Y/n)'s broken glasses. He accidently stepped on them when he was panicking, though he only realised it when she was sent to the nurse's office. Her glasses must have fallen off her head when she got hit. That hard huh. Really God, you want to test her that much today. Fine, she'll apologize to Mr. Snuggles when she gets home.

Unbeknownst to her, Kageyama felt even worse than earlier. His ball caused her to knocked out, and now it even knocked off the glasses from her head and broke it. Stuttering on his words, he apologized again. Hands balled into a tight fist. He just felt so bad. Suga noticed how dejected he sounded. But he also noticed how pink his ears were. Oh? Well even if it wasn't what he thought, there was no harm in... light teasing. Besides, they'd looked adorable together, no?

"If you really feel guilty. Then you should walk her home today." slinging his arm over Kageyama's shoulder, Suga tried to keep a neutral expression. Well there was a slight smirk, but he tried. "What if she falls down on her way home? Or run into a pole?"

"I am short-sighted Sugawara-senpai. Not blind." (Y/n) said through gritted teeth. Really these eyesight jokes should be old by now. "Besides, I will need to stop by the optic shop to have new ones made."

"All the more for him to accompany you. It will get dark soon. Might be dangerous to be walking alone with such bad eyesight."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to burden-"

"Let's go." Kageyama interrupted. And when she declined again, he argued back. "Stop being a stubborn idiot. You still haven't eaten, you can't see well and you're so light that people can just easily carry you away."

Did he just called her an idiot for the second time in the short the period they have known each other. How rude! Not that his points were invalid. He was right. But boy does this person lack delicacy. In the end, she agreed to let him accompany her. He bought two cartons of milk from the vending machine. One for each of them, and they set off on their merry way.

~~~~~~~~~~

"No- Okay. Once again. Osmosis only works with solvents. Simple diffusion, both solvents and solutes. So in osmosis, solvents will move from low solute concentration-" (Y/n) stopped explaining when she noticed how Kageyama's brows were almost touching. His lips formed a small pout. "You know what, we have been revising for more than an hour. Let's take 5. Then continue for another hour. It's getting late and although my mum likes you, my dad wouldn't like you being in my room for too long."

Ever since that day where he sent her home, she began hanging out more with Yachi and the volleyball club. Not that she never hung out with her close friend, it's just that (y/n) felt out of place when she mingles with unfamiliar crowds. But now that every member knew her as the girl who got hit by Kageyama's jump serve, that became the basis of her acquaintanceship with the club and she got to hang out with Yachi more. And before she realized it, Kageyama has just been around her circle. Always there. Heck he has been walking her home more often now that even her mother likes him. Then they became just friends. Or she hoped it stayed that way, because she noticed her emotions began crossing unknown territories.

(Y/n) has come to learn a few things about Kageyama Tobio over the course of their friendship. One, he is an obsessed volleyball freak. A prodigy people say. But what (Y/n) sees is a person consumed by passion for the things he loves. And that isn't necessarily bad. Two, he can be quite childish. He fails to control his frustration which later comes off the wrong way whenever he expresses them. But really he means no harm, because when he is happy, he expresses them genuinely. And three, he is quite sensitive. He may want to show that he didn't care, but he actually takes things to heart. He may feel down about a comment, but he will learn to improve from it.

"Sorry."

"What for?"

"For having to teach an idiot like me."

"Oh stop it. Everyone is good and bad at something. We can't all be the perfect prodigy. That's just how things are. You may be bad at studying, but with your volleyball skills I bet you can represent Japan one day." noticing his eyes lit up, she continued. "So in order for you to attend your camp. Let's just try our best okay?"

Kageyama nodded. It was a little embarrassing to have her comforting him like this. But at the same time it brings him immense joy. When he first met her, he would get flutters looking at her cute appearance. Now, he just feels all warm and fuzzy whenever she talks to him. He liked that she didn't judge him or anyone she's ever met. She would scold him sometimes, but at the same time explained her reasoning. And he really appreciated that, how patient she was with him. It does make him guilty, but at the same time he wants to start behaving better. Is this what Suga meant when he said he has a crush on (Y/n)? Kageyama doesn't really know. He will need time to analyze everything.

"(L/n), do you have time during our Spring Tournament?" he tried looking anywhere else but her face.

"You want me to cheer on the club? Sure thing."

"Yes." Hearing her reply made him smile. With a steady gaze he stared straight into her eyes. "Watch me play, (y/n). I'll show you a really strong serve."

(Y/n) could only smile back as she felt butterflies in her stomach. "Then we better get back to studying."

#kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu fanfiction #karasuno #short reader #kageyama tobio x (y/n)#kageyama x fem reader #haikyuu fanfic rec #cute #haikyuu fluff #oneshot #one shot #accidents #haikyuu oneshot

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mah-gah-lee · 3 years

Text

be stuck with you - owen patrick joyner x (reader)

Word Count: 2303

Request: YES, from that sweet @idontcare011, hope you’ll like it !

Summary: you were late and a random boy comes into the elevator at the last minute. By some incredible force of fate (or pretty crappy weather) you find yourself stuck with the young man in this narrow cabin.

Warnings: panic attack and i think it’s all

disclaimer: I don't know Owen personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Owen's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…I heard maybe he has one, so I don’t know but I don’t want to offend her). All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove @lukeys-giggle

---

Thanks God, the quarantine was over and everyone could travel again. However, this stupid virus was not completely gone. Since the health crisis, you have adopted new habits, such as taking the stairs instead of the elevator. But today, you were in a hurry, so you entered the cabin eagerly. The conference you were due to attend was starting in no less than twenty minutes, and your itinerary had said it would take you 15 to get to your planned location. But with the weather conditions creeping in out there, you were sure you would need a lot longer than advertised. The automatic door was closing when a hand stepped in the way. A young blond man appeared and slipped into the elevator. You grumbled at the action, making you fall a few more seconds behind.

"Sorry" the boy said through his mask.

But you didn't answer.

You had almost ten floors to go down together. You looked in your bag for a while to make sure you had your recorder when you felt an uncontrolled jerk. Your body no longer held you in balance but you caught yourself on a side of the elevator as the young man accompanying you tended to stabilize you. The lights flashed for a while and then went out. Your eyes widened as your heart pounded.

"oh no no no no no no no. Anything except that, please!" you said, frantically pressing a random button.

“I think we stuck…”

"Oh yeah, what makes you think that?" The fact that we weren't moving or that the lights went out? "

The boy threw up his hands in defense, eyes wide with so much animosity.

"Hey, I'm in the same situation. You don't have to be aggressive."

You groaned before leaning against one of the elevator walls, peering into the face of your elevator failure companion. He had blond hair; his tips reached the base of his neck. But his expressive blue eyes - seeming constantly anxious - reminded you of someone, but you didn't know who. You have pushed the alarm button to warn the staff that there was someone in the lift.

“Sorry, it’s seems to be a bad day. I’m late and now I’m stuck in an elevator with a perfect stranger”

“I’m Owen…Not a stranger anymore”

“I’m y/n, but yes, you still are”

Owen laughed at your outspokenness and you gave him a polite smile before you were silent for several minutes.

After what seemed like forever - when it was only ten minutes - you looked at your phone. No networks. For no obvious reason, when everything seemed to be going well, your heart started to beat faster. The thought of being stuck here forever crossed your mind and ached in your chest. The boy in front of you seemed so calm, which made you even more anxious.

"How the hell can you stay so calm"

"Oh ... I'm dying inside, just trying to play it cool"

You can help with giving him an amused smile, he had been so frank. But this little interaction did not bring you back down from your state. You were breathing harder and harder, your chest was heaving quickly, it was nearly out of control. Owen seemed to notice that and give you a concerned look.

"Panic attack?"

You nodded briskly and Owen approached you cautiously. You saw his hands move towards you and your gaze expressed fear but you were paralyzed to do anything.

"I'm going to take that damn mask off you already."

Gently, he grabbed the fabric mask and pulled a little on it to lower it, he reproduced the gesture with his own mask.

"Look at me, just me. There's nothing around us. Take a deep breath. I'll count to 3 and then you'll breathe out. Okay?"

you nodded and when he shook his to urge you to breathe you took a deep breath, like he told you to.

"1..2..3"

You sighed, keeping your gaze on him. You started once more and when the blonde asked you if it was better, you were shaking your head negatively.

"We're starting over but… take my hands and squeeze them as much as you need. Don't worry about grinding them."

You grabbed his hands and restarted each step over, crushing his hands. But the contact with matter, your breath and Owen's comforting eyes, help you gently. A soothing silence has settled between you. Owen had helped you through this panic attack when you didn't even know each other. But you could feel deep inside that this man was good. Things seemed to calm down for you and you thanked Owen with a genuine smile.

“You know how to deal with it ... Thanks for that.”

“I also suffer from anxiety and panic attack. But the elevator is big enough here that it doesn't cause me one. Although I am a little anxious ...”

“hey, breathe Owen.” You replied with a smirk

Owen laughed and shook his head as if to say "that's a good one!" You look at the young man again, staring at him intently. It was very rude but you couldn't put a name on his face anymore. You were sure you knew him. Was he a distant cousin? A neighbor? A guy you knew in high school? Or just a guy you saw in an ad? Maybe the ad for these new cereals!

“Excuse me but ... I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I?”

“In an elevator, yeah!” he joked

You laughed he was funny

“No, I mean ... I feel like I've seen you before but I really can't remember where.”

he sighed, as if a little tired of the question. You were surprised at his reaction but Owen answers you anyway

“Yeah, I don't usually talk about that when I first meet a girl, especially when I'm stuck in an elevator with her but ... I'm an actor. I played some stuff on Nickelodeon and now I'm supposed to shoot season two of Julie and the phantoms, it's a Netflix series.”

You watched him chattering, you nodded then wide your eyes. This is where you saw it! You had been relentlessly browsing the Netflix catalog and seeing the trailer for the series he told you about, but you had avoided it, the show seemed too childish for you. You first reaction was to make fun of him

"Again, don't forget to breath Owen. But the way, I didn’t want to bother you with that question."

He laughed lightly then smiled politely at you. You didn't seem to be a hysteric or a weird person. He had a deep feeling that you were a good person, which is why Owen seemed to relax.

"It's just ... for a while, I thought you were a fan and I didn't want things to be weird all suddenly "

"Oh don't worry I haven't seen any of your shows.” you said nonchalantly

Owen burst into laughter. Once again, it was bafflingly sincere and he was really starting to enjoy being stuck in an elevator with you. You smiled, the energy in the cabin was positive that you almost forgot you were stuck with this young man for almost half an hour. You didn't know when you were going to be able to get out of here but you didn't really care anymore for the sole reason that you wanted to get to know this man. You tilted your head back, resting it against the elevator wall before sighing loudly. Seconds later, your gaze turned to Owen again.

“So tell me about this series that you’re filming. What is it about?”

"It's a pretty cool show actually. It's directed by Kenny Ortega, I don't know if you see who he is."

"Hell yeah ... he's the choreographer of Dirty Dancing"

"Himself ... So what about the storyboard ... It's about ..."

And then, you listened to him to tell you about the series. Something like a '90s band dying of food poisoning from a bad hotdog and returning twenty-five years later as ghosts to help a super talented young girl to make music after her mom passed away. It made you laugh; it was probably the dumbest death on TV after Marion Cotillard's in Batman. He couldn't even stop anymore so that he sometimes swapped over a few anecdotes from the set. You even got a little exclusive on season two before Owen stopped in the middle of a sentence.

"Sorry, I got a little carried away. But when you like your job, it's pretty easy to talk about it."

You smiled at him and Owen started asking you questions, about your work, your life, your passions and you were giving him back. The conversation was fluid, natural You learned that he was German, that his mother tongue was German until he was about four years old, that he had a sister and had lived with his parents until that year when he moved into his own apartment. Getting to know Owen was really nice and you could feel your stomach twist every time he smiled. He was a boy full of humor but also sarcasm.

You've been stuck with Owen for an hour and a half now. You ended up sitting on the floor of the elevator. Boredom was really starting to take hold of you. You rummaged through your bag for something, anything. An idea crossed your mind when you saw the small block of post-it notes.

"Owen"

"hmm?"

"How would you like to play a game?"

"What kind of game do you want to play here?"

"Who am I?"

"Obviously you are y/n" he tells you with a smirk.

You laughed before pulling out your notepad and a pencil to show it to the blonde. He claimed to have understood your intention, which made you smile even more. Of course, Owen knew the game you wanted to play. He nodded, and you'd write a celebrity's name on a sticky note before sticking it on your new friend's forehead. He did the same for you. Fortunately, your two post-its are well stuck. Owen spoke

"I start: am I a man?"

"Obviously" you say with a smirk, responding to the blonde's previous joke.

Owen laughed, catching the tone of your voice.

“But how funny she is! Is my character a man?” He continued.

You did several parts. You even teased him when he made you guess Julie and the phantoms, because the game didn't stop only with characters, celebrities but also series, movies, musicals. You were laughing when there was another shake, stronger than the first, the lights came back on and you couldn't help but be disappointed. You looked at Owen and he seemed to have the same gaze as yours. The doors barely opened and you found the hotel staff, patiently waiting to ask if you needed medical assistance, while also offering you a bottle of water. You left the elevator car, hurriedly stuffing the many post-its into your bag. You didn't really know how to act with the blond guy next to you. You had formed a little bubble in that enclosed space and now it seemed to have burst. For some strange reason, it made you sad. Now is the time to part ways with your new friend.

“well, good-goodbye, it was nice to meet you.”

you rushed into the hotel lobby a little more, but Owen seemed to catch up with you, his long legs only having to take a few strides.

"wait, y/n!"

You turned to him, you could see the embarrassment on his cheeks, asking with a frown what was the cause.

"I think you let that go"

"No, I don't"

You looked at the crumpled white paper. It even looked like a piece of chewing gum. And at first glance, Owen's perfectly white teeth were chewing one.

"I think you did."

He handed you the paper with a determination that convinces you. You bite your lip as you look at the series of numbers on the packaging: a phone number. His telephone number. Owen swallowed hard as he looked at you. His eyes never leaving your lips.

"It's pretty spontaneous of me but ... I won't start filming until next week. I hope you're still here the day after tomorrow ... because I would really like to ask you to come have a drink with me ... "

Your cheeks turned red, did he really just ask you for a date? You did not know what to answer. The urge to say yes was so present but you were afraid to rush. Perhaps humor was your only defense

"it depends"

"about what?"

"Does this appointment include a blocking session in an elevator? This is the only way it works"

Owen laughed before giving you a genuine smile, showing his perfectly aligned white teeth. God, what a beautiful man.

"I can try to fix this and find a faulty elevator."

"So expect a text from me"

You smiled back at him and gave him a wink before turning on your heels. Owen's heart skipped a beat and he when he arrived several hours late in the hairdressing section of the set, Charlie laughed at him saying that he had never seen him so happy to have a haircut. hair. But in reality, the blond was only waiting for one thing, and that was to receive a message from you, which arrived in a second.

(y/n) text : "After being stuck in an elevator, here I am stuck in traffic ... Are you sure you want a date with me, you might just end up stuck with me?"

Owen couldn't help but smile broadly.

Owen text : "I'm sure. I'd love to even be stuck with you (again).”

(y/n) text : “Fine, ghost boy. See you soon”

#owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen patrick joyner x reader #owen joyner x reader #jatp cast x reader #jatp cast imagine #julie and the phantoms #jatp

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warriorrazor · 3 years

Text

More Spooky Family AU time!

((masterpost))

This will go a bit more in depth about the lead up to the custody trial, and Pump finally getting to return to Lila and Skid.

This is going to be another half-summary-half-mini story sort of thing. I also wasn’t planning it at first, but the last part definitely turned into a full-on ficlet.

I’d also like to mention that I came up with a lot of this while bouncing ideas around with others! Thank you to everyone who’s commented, asked questions, and added their own ideas, I owe a lot of this AU’s development to those who have shared their own thoughts with me! You’re all amazing!

This one is even longer than the last post, so it’ll be under the read more as well:

After calling CPS early in the morning, a few hours went by until Skid and Pump woke up. When they did, Lila had already made them a big breakfast of chocolate pancakes and bacon. Skid, since he was asleep when Pump ran to the house in the middle of the night, had no idea why Pump was there, but was of course happy that he was with them. For those moments everything was peaceful and nothing felt wrong, together they all shared a delicious breakfast and the boys rambled about spooky month.

CPS arrived at Lila’s house very soon after, informing her that during this time Pump would need to return to his father so they could conduct the investigation. Now knowing Pump’s situation, Lila was absolutely distraught by this news, but she sadly knew she couldn’t do anything about it. She ever so carefully explained to Pump that he had to go back to his father. It took Pump a bit to finally get it, that so soon after he had found a place of safety and belonging, he had to leave it. While Lila also explained that she would do everything in her power to make it so he could stay, so that Pump didn’t have to see his father ever again, the only thing that was really registering for him was that he had to leave. Lila herself carried Pump to the CPS agent’s car, having to pry Pump off of her and watch as he gave her one last look, a look of pure fear and betrayal, a look would haunt Lila for a very long time.

The CPS investigation would take a week, and there would be another week that would lead up to the trial.

As soon as Pump was taken away, Lila immediately got to work. She began researching everything she needed to know about laws, custody, CPS, etc. though she quickly decided she would take care of Skid during the day, and work on research and filling out paperwork during the night.

Speaking of Skid, Lila had to explain to him in kid terms as best she could what exactly was happening with his best friend. Skid didn’t exactly understand all the details, but he was able to understand that Pump is in some sort of trouble. And being the empathetic and caring kid that he is, Skid wanted to help in any way he could.

While this was happening, Pump was stuck in his father’s house, confused and terrified. For most of these two weeks Pump would spend his time in his room, curled up tightly on his bed. He wanted nothing more than to be alone and away from everything that was happening. He would dread the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs, praying that whoever it was wouldn’t come into his room. It was always either his father wanting to talk with him about just how good of a father he is and that Pump should be thankful to live with him, or it was the CPS agents who would ask him personal questions that he never knew exactly how to respond to.

During this time, Pump’s father also set up a curfew for Pump so he could barely see Skid after school, and he couldn’t visit Lila’s house at all. However Pump could see Skid plenty at school, and Skid would keep close to him at all times. While Pump would try to hide it, Skid could see just how distressed his best friend was, and would do his best to offer as much comfort and support as he could.

Now knowing Pump’s father wouldn’t always pack Pump a lunch, Lila began packing an extra lunch and giving it to Skid to give to Pump. As she didn’t have any other way to communicate with Pump, she would put a note in each of his lunches telling him that he would be okay, that he was brave, that she promised she would help him.

School had quickly become the only place of sanctuary Pump felt he had.

At home, Pump’s father would try to “play nice” with Pump and do his best to drill into his head that he was the best parent Pump could have. However, after all the time Pump had spent with Skid and Lila and how much he’d learned about what a family should really be like, this only serves to utterly confuse him. Pump’s father would also be doing his own research on different laws and which ones that would in any way work in his favor. He was basically trying to throw every law that would give him any slight advantage at Lila, little did he know his onslaught only made Lila more determined to research and counter what he would come at her with.

Finally, the day of the trial would arrive. Though the trial was long and stressful, Lila would succeed, and she would gain custody of Pump.

~~~~~

Pump listened to the sounds of footsteps coming closer and closer. He groaned and buried his head in the blankets of his bed.

Pump didn’t want to think. He just wanted to sleep.

The strangers came into his room. Pump knew the routine; they’ll make him sit up, look him in the eyes, ask him questions, look at his body, and leave. If he does what they ask, then they’ll go away. But they always come back. Always.

He managed to push himself up into a sitting position. One of them sat next to him on his bed, looking at him with a concerned smile. She was talking to him, but her words just seemed to blend together. Pump listened anyway, watching her mouth move with tired eyes. Suddenly, she stood up and gestured him to follow her. Pump’s eyes widened. This was new. He didn’t want to leave his room, but he knew he couldn’t say no. He avoided her gaze as as he slowly shuffled off the bed and followed her out of his room, then down the stairs.

Pump looked at his father who was talking with a stranger. His father looked back at him with a frown. His eyes were tired, but there was something else behind his gaze that inexplicably made Pump shudder. He looked back at the strangers he was following and froze. One of them had opened the front door, and was looking at him expectantly. Pump didn’t move. She smiled and gestured for him to follow her again.

He had to listen. He didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t.

Pump swallowed thickly and gripped his shirt as he cautiously followed them out the door. He tried to glance once more at his father, but he was now out of Pump’s sight. The strangers led him to a car, and the sight of it immediately made Pump’s chest tighten. It was the car that he had to ride in when they took him away from Skid and Lila. He was terrified. Where were they going to take him this time?

Pump felt tears welling up in his eyes but kept his mouth shut as one of the strangers guided him into the backseat. The door slammed shut, and Pump was immediately overcome with a strong feeling of claustrophobia. He was trapped. His hands shook as he buckled himself in, needing a few attempts before the buckles finally clicked. The car began to move, and Pump breathed hard as he watched his father’s house disappear from view.

The car ride wasn’t long but for Pump it felt like forever. He looked out the window, watching all the houses pass by. They all seemed to blend together; it was his own neighborhood, but Pump was too panicked to recognize any of them. It felt like an alien world where nothing made sense. He could feel tears streaming down his cheeks, and watched as they dropped onto his lap.

The car then took a quick turn, and Pump suddenly realized he recognized this place.

Pump had been here many times, seen these houses over and over, remembered every twist and turn the street would take. Even if he felt he may never be able to visit Skid’s house again, he could never forget where it was. He leaned closer to the window, his heart roaring in his ears as the house he had been to so many times came into view. He felt a sudden flutter of hope in his chest, and it slowly spread through his body as the car slowed and stopped in front of the house.

Pump remembered that Skid had told him many times that he and Skid could be brothers, that he could come to Lila’s house and she could be his mother as well. He didn’t believe him, how could he? His father kept telling him that Lila didn’t want him, that she didn’t like him, that she was lying to him, that she had already given up on him...

Pump flinched harshly as the car door suddenly swung open. He slowly scooted himself out of the car and followed the stranger towards Skid’s house, his heart pounding harder with each step he took. He brushed his sleeve roughly against his eyes to clear his tear blurred vision, looking again and confirming that this was in fact not a dream.

The stranger knocked on the door.

It was only a few seconds before Skid’s mother Lila answered. He stared at her as she exchanged a few words with the stranger. Finally, she looked down at him. He felt himself begin to shake as he looked back at her with wide eyes. She gave him a bright smile, and Pump’s breath caught in his throat. The stranger stepped aside.

Pump thought his heart might burst out of his chest.

He couldn’t stop himself from running over to her, and he let out a startled gasp as she immediately scooped him up. Pump shuddered harshly at the sudden contact, but as Lila brought him close to her chest and starting stroking her hands through his curly hair, he felt a strong warmth quickly spread through his body. He tightened his grip on Lila when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone giggling, he could recognize that voice anywhere.

Skid!

Pump looked below him and saw his best friend jumping for joy and skipping around them, with the happiest smile on his face. Pump felt a fluttering in his chest as a smile started to form on his face as well. He looked back at Lila who was beaming at him, the very sight making any of Pump’s doubts and worries melt away. Lila held him closer and spun around, making Pump squeak in surprise. He had never felt anything like it, but somehow it didn’t frighten him, instead it filled him with such a strong feeling of exhilaration and bliss. He reveled in the feeling, giggling with Skid and hearing Lila laugh along as well.

Pump felt tears spilling from his eyes, but he wasn’t sad, far from it. He had never felt such a mix of positive emotions, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he buried his face into Lila’s shoulder, breathing heavily. He felt Lila rubbing soothing circles along his back. Pump relaxed into it, letting out a shaky sigh. Had he ever felt so comfortable before?

Though his thoughts were positively jumbled, he was able to force out one word, spoken so quietly that he barely heard it himself:

“Home?”

Pump felt Lila pause, then she kneeled down, still holding him close. He felt a second set of arms wrap around him and he turned his head to look at Skid, whose eyes were practically sparkling. He leaned into Skid, a strong sense of belonging being added to his pile of scattered emotions. He looked back at Lila, her comforting gaze strengthening that wonderful feeling.

“Yes Pump, this is your home now. You can live here with us,” Lila softly spoke, stroking his head, “If you want, Skid could be your new brother, and I could be your mother. Would you like that?”

Pump’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Yes,” he breathed, excitement filled his voice as it began to rise, “yes, yes!”

At this, Skid cheered and tightened his hug around him.

“I told you!” He declared, shaking with pure delight, “I told you we were gonna be brothers!”

Pump chuckled, feeling the tears begin to flow again.

“You did, you did tell me,” Pump grinned as he spoke with a shaky voice. He hesitantly let go of Lila to wrap his arms around his friend, his best friend.

His brother.

“We’re family now,” Pump heard Skid breathe, and he finally allowed himself to believe it. Pump leaned his head onto Skid’s shoulder, and closed his eyes with bliss as he felt Lila bring them both into a group hug. He’s hugged Skid so many times, but never has he felt surrounded by so much warmth. It was like being wrapped in a soft, heavy blanket, a feeling that was almost overwhelming, yet Pump never wanted it to end.

“This calls for a celebration!” Lila announced, giving both boys a squeeze.

“A bit later we can go out for icecream, then I’ll cook us a big dinner! How’s that sound?”

Pump could hardly believe his ears. Skid was the first to react, throwing his hands in the air with joy. “Great idea!” Skid exclaimed, making Lila let out a chuckle. Pump rapidly nodded his head, his eyes shining. Lila moved back a bit and looked at Pump, giving him a warm smile.

“Welcome home.”

~~~~~

Finally, the ordeal was over. Lila kept true to her word, bringing the boys out for icecream and fixing them a big, full course dinner. Afterwards, they had a small movie marathon, though Skid and Pump fell asleep before they even got to the third movie.

Just like Skid and Lila promised Pump, they are family now, and a very tight-knit one at that. They care about each other deeply, and Lila makes sure to give her boys plenty of attention and create memories for them that they’ll never forget.

While Pump didn’t have the best start to his childhood, Lila is determined to make sure that the rest of it is just as wonderful as his brother’s. And with how joyful and caring her kids are, it’s not at all difficult to do nice things for them.

#meant to post this sooner but then uhhhh #I got really unsure of my writing for some reason #so I’m just pushing through it and hoping it isn’t as bad as I think it is #if you made it down here thank you so much for reading #you’re epic #spooky month spooky family au #spooky family au #spooky month au #spooky month #spooky month skid and pump #spooky month pump and skid #skid and pump #pump and skid #spooky month lila #sr pelo spooky month #tw neglect #tw child neglect #tw abuse #tw child abuse

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

A/N: dedicated to the anon who wanted me to write a oneshot about ojiro giving the reader a gift, this fanfic is for you 💖💖 this is incredibly self-indulgent and ive been working on it for over a month now. its almost done but i’ll post what i have so far, i hope you like it!!

Contains reluctant Aizawa to soft Dadzawa, annoying brother Shinsou, pure Eri-chan, bakugou's notorious cursing, sweet and innocent fluff between reader-chan and Ojiro. First friend Ojiro to best friend and then lover. Featuring the rest of Class 1-A and them acting like hooligans.

Part 1: Crashing into Ojiro, Room Competition, meeting Class 1-A and Aizawa, who has some bad news for you when you’re discovered.

Word Count: 7k

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the busy city of Musutafu.

Ojiro had planned on taking Tokoyami with him, but his friend was still in the middle of unpacking as he was leaving.

He was on the way back to the dorms from the grocery store with a bag of ingredients and sweets as per Sato's request. It was a bit longer of a walking distance since he was so used to coming from his house and would take some getting used to, now that Heights Alliance was his home.

The streets weren't any busier than usual, but when he saw something flicker out of the corner of his eyes off to the side, he couldn't help but feel as though something was wrong.

Maybe it was his hero blood or something stronger but he didn't waste any time diving into action.

As he rounded the corner, his eyes widened as someone crashed into him, nearly toppling him over. He caught his balance just in time, steadying the person that had collided into his chest but not before he saw it.

Blood matting down your hair had his heart dropping in horror. You were trembling in his arms, positively terrified and it didn't take long to figure out what the cause of your stress was when two more figures slinked out of the shadows.

Ojiro acted quickly, using his tail to whisk the two of you higher until you were out of sight. He curled his arms tightly but carefully around your waist, making sure that you wouldn't fall.

Thanks to Ectoplasm's guidance, he had refined his skills and learned how to be unpredictable.

It wasn't until you two were safely on top of the nearest roof did he loosen his grip. Leaning over the edge cautiously, he watched the strangers bolt off in opposite directions, presumably to look for you. He was pretty sure they didn't see him take you away but he wasn't completely certain. Pulling back, he released you from his hold. But he didn't take any offense to the way you practically flew from his touch.

He could see it in your eyes. Fear as deep as yours shouldn't ever be allowed to get that far, for anyone.

You hugged your trembling body with your arms, desperately willing the anxiety to die down so that you could think straight. All you could think about was running. Far, far away where no one could get to you.

"Ah... sorry to take you away so suddenly like that, but it looked like you seemed to be in trouble." Ojiro apologized.

His sheepish tone made you finally break out of your thoughts and for a moment, the two of you didn't say anything, both of you enamored with the other as you got a proper look.

He didn't think he had ever seen anyone as beautiful as you before. Round orbs blinking up at him curiously, your fuzzy ears perched on top of your head perked up as you met his gaze, bushy tail twitching behind you.

As for you, your mouth dried at the sight of your savior. His golden hair and kind smile made your heart skip a beat for reasons unknown to you. You couldn't stop your tail from thumping excitedly against the rooftop when you saw his tail.

It was much bigger and looked much stronger than yours was and you couldn't stop from bounding over to it eagerly, stretching out a tentative hand to touch it.

But you halted at the last second and recoiled, expecting to be punished for your behavior.

Ojiro frowned, taking notice of your trepidation and offered you an encouraging smile. "It's okay, you can touch it if you'd like."

He lifted his tail slightly, inviting your curiosity forth and a bit nervously, you reached out your hand once again. A wide smile split your features as you felt the soft, short fur underneath, your other hand going up to pet your ears, as if to compare the softness.

Ojiro couldn't help but match your smile at that, finding it adorable. Tucking his legs underneath him so that you could still play with his tail, he breached the topic sensitively.

"What's your name?" He asked quietly. "Who were those guys that were after you?"

At first, you seized up and for a minute there, he was worried he went about asking you the wrong way. But a deep sigh left your lungs and testing the waters, you timidly introduced yourself and began to explain in a concise way, your current situation.

You honestly weren't entirely sure how you got there.

But one bad thing after another landed you in a pretty rough neighborhood notorious for Quirk Traffickers. They looked for people with unique abilities that would sell well on the black market. People paid a lot of money to own those they deemed exotic, particularly kids and teens with quirks that had an effect on their physical appearance.

You were no exception, having been cursed with an extremely rare wolf quirk. All it ever brought you was trouble.

You had heard that quirks were hereditary but yours definitely wasn't. You don't know which ancestor it came from when it appeared out of the blue.

Tiny fangs, fluffy ears and a tail emerged one day. But your excitement of discovering it was short-lived when you were abandoned by your parents the very next day. They had found it disgusting.

Young and innocent, you wandered the streets, not sure what you were supposed to do. That's when they caught you.

You bounced from one owner to another, never staying in one place for very long. You had been brought back to their base of operations in Japan, your last master less than satisfied with you since all you did was hide out of fear of everyone, lashing out when he tried to approach you.

You may or may not have bitten a guest when they tried to touch your ears.

Back in your homeland, that's when you saw your opening.

You didn't know what propelled your legs to start running from the men but pretty soon you were out of breath and out of options. Alone in the alleyway, but not for long, you frantically scanned for an escape route.

And that's when you crashed into him.

A shadow fell over Ojiro's face as he heard you explain your past, hands balling into fists at his sides. He wouldn't stand behind while someone was tormenting you. No hero would allow something like this to continue.

Coming to his decision instantly, he stood up, extending a hand out to you.

"Y/N, will you come with me?" He asked, gaze unwavering. "I think I know where you'll be safe, at least for now."

You paused, skeptical. "I-I... I don't know."

He squatted down beside you, patting your head gently. If there was more time, he would've been more patient but he couldn't help but feel uneasy the longer you guys stayed out in the open. Even if you were out of sight, a rooftop wasn't a permanent place for you to hide out in.

Your eyes went wide but you didn't shrink away. You didn't know why. Anytime someone reached for your head, they always had this glint in their eyes, but this time, he looked desperate.

Desperate for you to believe him.

"You must have a hard time trusting people after all you've been through." Ojiro empathized before urgency seeped into his tone. "I really don't want to leave you alone. My sensei might be able to help you but only if you come with me."

You still didn't look entirely convinced but he didn't blame you.

"If you don't like what he says, then you don't have to listen." Ojiro reassured you easily. "No one's going to force you to do anything. You can make your own choice but let me at least give you more options."

That was what finally made you drop your guard, still wary but choosing to trust him for now. After all, he did save you earlier.

You put your hand in his, cheeks warming as he squeezed it slightly.

"Okay."

The two of you traveled to Heights Alliance, the dormitory for Class 1-A of UA High School. He immediately found his teacher, Aizawa, and told him of your circumstances. The man's rough and rugged appearance caused fear to flash through you but only for an instant.

He concealed it well but he seemed kind. Not outwardly like Ojiro, but it was enough to reassure you for now.

All throughout Ojiro's explanation, you hid behind his broad back, shivering at the way his tail curled around your waist to keep you close to him.

It was weird. It didn't feel restricting like you expected it to, it almost felt protective. You kind of liked it. You giggled as the furry tip of his tail tickled your nose playfully and you batted at it, eyes shining as you momentarily forgot where you were.

Aizawa was silent as his student finished explaining why he had a wolf girl attached to his side, scratching the back of his neck as he racked his brain to come up with a solution that wouldn't land you back in that same place again but also without compromising the safety of his students.

Since you were an orphan and a minor, the police would most likely take you to an orphanage, in which case the people looking for you would certainly find you. Aizawa called Principal Nezu and got permission from him to house you at the dorms until the threat hanging over your head was dealt with by the authorities.

You blinked when he asked you if you wanted to stay with them for the time being while they ironed out all the details and see what could be done for a more permanent residence but accepted his offer with a shy and grateful smile.

Then was the matter of actually carrying it out.

The two wanted to settle you in a room of your own but your ears flattened against your head in distress at the suggestion so they quickly dropped that idea.

Aizawa ran a hand tiredly through his hair, unsure of how to resolve this when you clearly were in danger but didn't want to be left alone. The less people that knew of your whereabouts the better and even though he knew Yaoyorozu would probably do a good job looking after you, you clung to Ojiro's side like glue.

You seemed the most comfortable with him and he figured they could use that for now.

Needless to say, Ojiro was surprised when Aizawa suggested he take care of you until the man could figure out a way to accommodate you without you having an anxiety attack but he readily agreed with a slight blush on his face.

He just wanted you to be safe and happy and he was stunned that his sensei trusted him enough to be responsible for you.

Aizawa promptly handed him a small first-aid kit to take care of the blood smeared on your forehead after ensuring that it wasn't anything serious. It was just a slight nick, shallow enough not to need any stitches since it would heal relatively quickly. He told him to clean it before it got infected and his student nodded seriously.

"You can count on me, Aizawa-sensei!!" Ojiro said, bowing respectfully to thank him for all he had done before leaving.

With Ojiro guiding the way, the two of you snuck through the back door and up into his room for you to get settled in. The other students in his class were bustling around the common floor, moving all their things into their respective rooms, hoping to get it done before dark.

It was loud and chaotic, or maybe that was just your sensitive ears picking up on it more. Curiosity peaked, you peeked around the corner after you ensured you were out of their sight, gaze falling on the activity going on below from the second floor.

Ojiro softly pointed each one of them out, telling you their names as they talked over each other.

"I can't believe we get to live together!!" Ashido exclaimed happily, doing a little dance in front of Hagakure and Uraraka. "This is so exciting!!"

"I can't believe my parents agreed to it!!" The invisible girl commented, undoubtedly puffing out her cheeks.

The red-haired and yellow-haired boys who were wrestling in the corner paused for a second to join in on the girls' conversation.

"Did you have a hard time convincing them?" Kirishima asked, only to be smacked upside the head by Kaminari. "Ow, what the heck man?!"

"Why are you asking such a dumb question?" The electric boy retorted, kicking up his feet and smirking. "She could've always just snuck out of the house if they said no. You know, invisibility quirk and all."

He leaped up with a yelp as something shocked him from behind, whirling around to glare at Jirou, who was twirling her earphone jack around a finger nonchalantly.

She sighed, retracting the other one from where she had send an electric pulse through him. "What an idiot."

Kaminari gripped his hair, nearly tearing it out in frustration. "That's what I'm saying!!"

Sero, who was passing by with a box full of his things, stopped and raised an eyebrow. "You know she's talking about you, right?"

"That's not true!!" Kaminari shouted incredulously.

"It's true." Jirou retorted flatly.

The others in the vicinity burst into laughter and you couldn't help but giggle a bit along with them, muffling the sound behind your hand in fear that they would catch you spying on them.

Ojiro's tail twined around your waist gently, steering you towards the elevators. "C'mon, this way."

That contraption alone was the most nerve-wracking thing you've experienced so far. Luckily, the ride wasn't long but that was the only upside. Your tail swished nervously behind you and you didn't relax until the door to his room on the third floor softly clicked closed behind you.

Ojiro breathed a sigh of relief, glancing up at you. You had made it without being spotted by anyone. Thankfully.

He didn't have many things, so moving in wasn't a problem for him and it didn't take too long. He was one of the first ones to finish, along with Shoji, and helped Sato unpack his things until his friend noticed he needed some more ingredients for the cake he wanted to make later on.

The plastic bag crinkled as he took out the snacks he had found while he was getting Sato more flour and sugar. Your nose twitched cutely and he had to refrain from poking your cheek, lest he scare you off.

Your tail was less frazzled now and he took it as a sign that you were getting accustomed to your surroundings.

His eyes softened as you took in his room, pawing at the neat collection of books on his desk before your attention flitted up to the high shelving above your head.

This time, Ojiro couldn't contain his fond smile as he reached over you to grab what you were longingly looking at.

Your eyes went wide as his chest pressed against your back, he easily reached it since he was taller than you. A small giraffe plushie landed in your hands not long after.

He tilted his head, eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled at you. "Cute, right?"

His little sister, Holly, gave it to him as a going-away present when he moved into the dorms. He missed her so much already but the presence of this little stuffed giraffe soothed his heart.

You held it so gently, as if you were scared you would destroy it.

"Yeah..." You trailed off quietly and he beamed.

It was his first time hearing your voice so unrestrained and free from the fear that gripped you earlier but nothing could have prepared him for how pure and precious it was. He ruffled your hair gently, being mindful of your fluffy ears and looking out for any signs you were uncomfortable with the affectionate gesture.

But his heart skipped a beat when you closed your eyes at his touch, clearly enjoying it and even going so far as to butt your head against his hand in a silent plea for more pets.

You flushed when he chuckled, obliging you for a minute longer until you were like putty in his hands.

The both of you jumped when a loud crash came from downstairs, accompanied by a flurry of enraged shouting and colorful insults even through the many floors. Ojiro casted a worried glance at you but all his concern melted away when a little giggle left your lips.

Relieved that you didn't seem to be too shaken by the noise, he offered the snacks he bought earlier, taking the package and ripping it open for you when you fumbled with it.

Thanking him quietly, you nibbled on the food gratefully. The flavors exploded in your mouth and you positively beamed, radiating the same pure energy you emitted earlier when you had spoken to him.

Ojiro maneuvered around you, finding what he was looking for pretty quickly.

You looked up curiously when he came back, shifting your weight on your knees, unsure of why he was holding a water bottle in your field of vision.

"I need to treat your cut, is that okay?" He asked, unscrewing the cap and pouring a little bit on the cloth he got from the first-aid kit. He didn't want to startle you, so he narrated what he was doing.

You nodded, setting down your half-eaten cookie carefully and brushed back your tangled hair as much as you could so that it wasn't in the way.

Your breath caught in your throat when he moved closer to you. He angled your chin up, gazing into your eyes as he wiped the blood away first to assess the damage done.

"It's going to sting a little bit." He murmured, preparing the antibiotic.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you gripped onto the lapels of his blazer, practically ripping it as your claws came out when he dabbed the cut. You whimpered in pain, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes at how much it hurt.

Ojiro faltered, your whimper sending a spike straight through his heart and he hastened, not wanting you to be in pain any longer. But he was thorough, well aware that if he didn't do a good job now, there was a chance you would have to endure it again. As soon as he disinfected it, he applied a couple butterfly closures to aid the healing process.

It wasn't bleeding anymore and he sighed in relief.

You panted heavily when he was finally done. Rubbing your eyes furiously, you blinked through your blurry vision, frantically scanning the room as his warmth suddenly disappeared.

"Y/N-chan?"

The voice was close by but not close enough. Your breathing started to pick up, hands clammy and tail fluffed out. An obvious sign you were stressed.

"Y/N-chan!!"

This time, it was a lot closer and you sank back, relieved beyond belief as the familiar sensation of his tail encircling your waist returned.

You stammered out his name, blindly reaching for him.

"Where did you go?" Your whispered, fingers trembling uncontrollably as he pulled you into his chest.

"Just had to put away the bandages." He reassured you, concerned with how quickly you were to losing it. "Are you okay?"

Your ears flopped back and forth at how vigorously you nodded, as if you needed to convince him like your life depended on it and his mouth twisted into a small frown.

"You don't have to do that." He said, going to pet you once more, smiling in relief as your tail finally stopped lashing behind you.

"... 'm sorry." You mumbled sadly, clutching onto the front of his jacket.

"It's okay." Ojiro replied, stroking your hair to calm you down. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Just how much pain had you endured?

This time when he stood up, you were okay. Somehow comforted that he wasn't going to go anywhere anytime soon, you polished off your snack as he got something else from the closet.

"Here."

You perked up at the sight of the blue hoodie in his outstretched hand.

Ojiro laughed at your expression of awe as you accepted it and ran your fingers over the material. "You seemed cold so how about you hang onto this for now?"

It was one of his lounging hoodies that he didn't wear too often but it was rather warm and would hopefully stop you from shivering. That tattered dress you were wearing looked like it was about to go any second. He didn't want to know how weak your immune system was to be freezing cold in the middle of August.

You beamed happily, bowing repeatedly. "Thank you, Ojiro-san!!"

It had gotten stuck over your head when you tried to pull it down though and with a muffled squeak that gained his attention, he tugged down the hem, smiling when your ears and flushed face popped through.

Just when I thought she couldn't get any cuter... He thought to himself as you began to run around the room, climbing on anything and everything once he told you that he didn't mind.

His clothes swallowed your smaller frame and he found it incredibly endearing with the way you would flap your arms around, claiming you had sweater paws. It fell just above your knees, keeping it modest.

He steered you away from the balcony for now, wanting you to stay where he could keep an eye on you.

After a few more hours of you getting adjusted, you had tuckered yourself out and curled up into a ball on the floor at the foot of his bed.

Ojiro frowned once he noticed you taking a nap on the hard surface, abandoning his studying at his desk to take you in his arms and placing you in his bed.

You stirred, heavy eyelids struggling to open as you croaked out, "W-What? Ojiro-san, what's going on??"

"You can't sleep on the floor, Y/N-chan." He chided lightly. "It's not good for your back."

Sleepy haze diminishing, you bolted upright, nearly smacking him in the face when you realized where he had put you.

"I can't sleep in your bed!!" You burst out incredulously.

Ojiro hushed you, worriedly glancing at the door as if his friends would come barging in without any warning but luckily they didn't. He didn't put it past them but this was one time where he didn't want them to do that.

He tried to ease you back down but you wouldn't obey.

"Don't worry, the sheets are new." He reassured.

His eyebrow furrowed when you shook your head violently from side to side, wondering what you were so worked up about. You tried to climb out and he let you but didn't let you go too far.

"What's wrong?" He asked quickly, the possibility that he had offended you coming to light. "I didn't mean to—"

"I'm not allowed to!!" You suddenly blurted out.

He did a double take and you looked over his shoulder, your eyes darting everywhere else besides him.

Crouching down to your level, he soothed you gently. "Hey, it's okay. What do you mean you're not allowed to?"

You absentmindedly picked at the wound closures on your forehead, swallowing thickly when he took your hand in his to prevent you from messing with the bandages.

"Y/N-chan?" He prompted.

Your mutter was so quiet he had to strain himself to hear you right and when he did, he asked you to repeat it because by All Might was his blood boiling if he heard you correctly.

You gulped, intimidated by the brazen anger in his eyes, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie.

"They said we're animals and called us dirty. We're not supposed to sleep where humans do." With each word, you got quieter until his face was right in front of yours. "They were right... weren't they?"

Squeaking as you got engulfed in a hug, you tensed up and he broke it, apologizing profusely.

"I'm sorry, I just," He ran a hand through his hair, conflicted. "They couldn't be more wrong."

He didn't touch you but he didn't need to for you to feel his warm presence extending out towards you and covering you in the most love you've experienced since your parents left.

"You might have an animal quirk but you're human just like the rest of us and don't deserve to be treated any less than that by anyone." He emphasized, then pounded a fist to his chest. "From now on, I'll look out for you and show you what it's like to be treated like an equal, as a friend, if you'll let me."

Ojiro held out his hand. "Deal?"

You sniffled, unbelievably moved by his kindness after only knowing you for less than a day. "Deal."

You sealed it with a handshake and he gestured to the rumpled bed behind him.

Waving his hand grandly, he proclaimed, "Your napping space awaits."

He internally winced at how corny that sounded but hearing your laughter ring in the air more than made up for it. As he helped you settle beneath the covers, he reassured you constantly but patiently that you really were allowed to sleep in a bed and no, you weren't bothering him or being a burden.

After that, you couldn't fall asleep right away and he really didn't want to study anymore so the two of you talked.

He told you about his family, how he got into UA, stuttering nervously a couple of times only to shoot you a grateful smile when you didn't judge or make fun of him. He told you about his little sister, a cute, precious little girl who was growing up faster than he liked to admit. Retelling and entertaining you with stories of his classmates and their adventures, his tail flicked up excitedly when you started to chime in with experiences of your own.

Things you could remember from your past. Foods you liked, hobbies you had, friends you liked to play with, and he listened attentively through it all. When you started to drift off, you sleepily mumbled offhandedly how you liked it when he patted your head or rubbed your ears.

And you especially liked it when he would hug you with his tail.

Ojiro just smiled softly, tucking the blanket around you before brushing the hair away from your face. You looked so peaceful. He got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, jaw dropping in surprise when his gaze landed on the bag discarded on the floor. He had completely forgotten about that.

Shaking your shoulder to rouse you from your tranquil state, he whispered apologies when you finally opened your eyes.

"I'm so sorry I woke you up but I have to go to Sato-kun's room really quick to give him the flour and sugar I bought earlier, okay?" He rushed out, tripping over his words to get it out faster so that you could go back to sleep.

"Can't I go with you?" You mumbled, still half asleep.

Ojiro shook his head, remembering what Aizawa said about exposure. Sure, he trusted his classmates but there was a big difference between what he wanted and what was logical. Your chances were better off with the less that people knew you of your whereabouts so he refused, even though it nearly broke his heart when you trained your wide orbs on him.

Pushing out your bottom lip slightly, tears collected at the corner of your eyes. "You don't want me there?"

He was quick to kneel down by your side, unable to stop himself from pressing his forehead to your temple in a desperate attempt to make the sadness in your voice fade away.

"No, no, princess, it's not that at all." The pet name slipped out faster than he could stop it but he didn't even stop. "You're safer here for right now. And I'll only be gone for a minute."

He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. "Okay?"

You mustered up a wobbly smile for him. "Okay..."

He wanted to text Sato to come to his room to pick it up so that he wouldn't have to leave you but that would stir up questions, especially since he wouldn't allow his friend inside and that would undoubtedly create a mayhem within his peers at what he was hiding. For aspiring heroes, they were still teenagers after all. And they loved to bug each other like it, too.

Ojiro sighed as he forced himself to detach from you, tucking the blanket securely around you before he stepped quietly out the door.

For once in his life, he kind of wished he wasn't living with his classmates.

After he left, you tried to quell the anxiety and insecurities. Twisting and turning, your mind raced, spiraling out of control. He didn't abandon you, he was just returning something to his friend. He would be back soon. He promised you.

But as the minutes ticked by, it felt like hours and you couldn't wait any longer. Throwing off the covers, your legs shook as you stepped towards the door. However, you froze in place and your ears twitched, picking up the sounds faster than the average human which normally would've given you an advantage but you couldn't move in time.

The door flew open with a bang, slamming into the wall and making you jump nearly five feet into the air. On the other side stood the girl with pink hair and skin that you had seen earlier, along with the electric boy and a few others you didn't recognize.

You shrunk back as the group exploded into chaos, directing questions towards you faster than you could process or fend off on your own. Your panic rose as they flooded in, clutching your hands tightly to your chest at the overwhelming amount of people in the cramped space.

Then, your eyes widened as someone shouted frantically for them to move, shouldering his way through until he came to you. You willed your feet to move but they wouldn't obey no matter how hard you tried, your body still frozen in fear. It didn't matter though because he reached you within seconds.

"Guys, seriously, back off!!" Ojiro shouted above the clamor, his tail pulling you close and tucked you under his arm. "You're scaring her!!"

At the strain in his usually light tone, his friends started to quiet down one by one and he turned his full attention on you.

"You okay?" He murmured, cradling your jaw and inspecting your face for any hint that you might've been hurt.

You didn't say anything, just threw your arms around him and brushed your nose against the crook of his neck, scenting him. His warm scent eased you and brought you back down bit by bit until your feet were planted firmly on the ground.

Even though he had no clue what you were doing, it was making the tension wound in your body disappear fast so he didn't have any issues with it. But his breath hitched as a soft rumble emitted from the back of your throat in contentment, squeezing you once before letting you go. He didn't detach his tail from you though, using it as a wall to keep his overeager friends from coming too close.

Ojiro let you do what you needed in that moment and in the minutes that followed, his friends began peppering you with questions. He let you keep your face nuzzled into his chest as you shyly answered them but he answered for you whenever you hesitated so that you wouldn't be put in an uncomfortable position of refusing them.

He had already seen what you were like when something that was normal for them went against what was ingrained into you and his arms curled around you tighter in an effort to protect you.

You were thankful for him taking most of the pressure off of you, timidly straying from his side when he encouraged you to talk to the girls a little bit more. You warmed up to them much faster than the rest, your eyes brightening up excitedly when they told you there was a girl among their friend group who had a frog quirk.

He sighed as Yaoyorozu and Ashido led you away from the boys with the rest of the girls in tow to go to a space where the environment would be better for you. Feeling bad that the secret had gotten out already, he winced as he thought of the penalty he would face once he told Aizawa.

Kaminari smirked, leaning against the doorframe after you exited. "Man, where have you been hiding her?"

Ojiro shot him a look that told him to keep quiet, not in the mood for playing around. "That's not funny."

"C'mon man, we're just teasing." Kirishima added on, not picking up on the tense energy of the room. "You could've at least told us you had a girlfriend, she's really cute."

"If not a little shy." Sero grinned, elbowing him in the ribs teasingly. "Don't worry, it's not like we're going to steal her away or anything."

"You should not have a girl in your room, Ojiro!!" Iida declared, chopping his hands in the air to emphasize his point despite the inconsiderate snickering occurring on the other side of the room by the three of them. "It is not appropriate!!"

Shoji, Sato and Koda all elected to remain silent, studying their friend's shadowed expression as their other classmates relentlessly teased him.

Forehead creasing in annoyance at the continuous jabs, Ojiro blurted out, "Guys, stop!! It's not something to joke about!!"

He sank to the floor, head in his hands and for the first time since they burst in, the guys finally took notice of the way his shoulders shook and how anxiety seemed to roll off of him in waves.

"She's in real danger." Ojiro told them quietly. "There are bad people looking for her so you guys can't talk about her, alright?"

"Please." He begged, not caring how desperate he sounded.

All he wanted was for you to be safe. All he wanted was for you to live the life you had been robbed of without having to look over your shoulder to see if someone was following you or not.

Shoji uncrossed his duplicate arms, stance broadening. "We won't."

"Yeah," Kirishima inserted, rubbing the back of his neck, ashamed of his behavior earlier. "Sorry man, had no idea."

Scattered apologies followed his and reluctantly, Ojiro raised his head, mouth set in a determined line. He didn't answer too many questions about your situation, wanting to keep as much of it as he could private until he knew how you felt about telling them and stood up. Now that damage control had been dealt with, all that was left was to tell Aizawa.

Piece of cake.

Back with the girls, you were dragged back to the elevators to get to the girls' side. Since Jirou's was the closest, you guys went there. Your expression filled with awe at the many instruments that hung on the walls, wanting to touch them but you didn't want to get in trouble so you kept your hands stiffly by your sides.

Ashido enthusiastically led you to the plushiest spot on the floor and for a second, you were reminded of the little stuffed giraffe Ojiro let you play with when he caught you looking at it. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you jumped when the girls squealed.

"Who are you thinking about?" Ashido pried, eyes glimmering with mischief. "It's Ojiro-kun, isn't it?!"

Your mouth opened and closed, unable to form a response to that. You covered your ears when she shrieked excitedly, taking your silence as your answer and dancing around the room.

"Mina-chan, calm down, you're a little too loud." Yaoyorozu told her gently before reaching over to pat your shoulder. "Where did you come from?"

Mouth parting in shock at how blatant she was being, you twiddled with the strings of Ojiro's hoodie. "Um, well, they told me that my breed is mixed so I don't sell as well as a purebred but I'm fast and—"

"Oh goodness no!!" Ashido interrupted, eyes widened in horror and if you looked around you would've seen all the other girls wearing that exact same expression. "That's not what she meant!!"

Tilting your head to the side clueless, you frowned. "It's not?"

"No!!" Yaoyorozu exclaimed, horrified by what you had to have been through to respond like that on instinct. "I meant how did you get in the dormitory, in Ojiro-san's room nonetheless!!"

"Ah, well... that, um... I—" You cut off your stammering with a frustrated sigh. "I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you."

"That's okay." Uraraka reassured you easily.

Her energy reminded you of Ojiro.

"Is it true that you're in danger?" Jirou spoke up for the first time since the gang of girls invaded her room.

Your jaw dropped in shock but your expression cleared when she waved her earjacks around pointedly. That must've been how she could hear and judging by the timing of her question, you concluded that Ojiro must have been the one talking about your circumstances. And since you didn't feel like he would knowingly put you into danger, you told them what you told him.

Their expressions crumbled before you, losing all semblance of their happy-go-lucky personalities as disbelief took over.

Yaoyorozu's eyes filled with tears. "You had to endure all of that alone?"

"That's horrible!!" Ashido cried out.

"I'm so sorry!!" Uraraka and Hagakure shouted simultaneously.

"I can't imagine what that must've been like." Jirou said, her eyes sad. "You're here now though, so Aizawa-sensei must've given you permission."

You nodded, knees tucked under you as you gripped the hem of the blue sweatshirt. "Yes, but it was only supposed to be a temporary solution and no one else was supposed to find out."

Hesitating, you gulped. "If... If this gets out, I—"

"Don't worry, Y/N-chan!!" Ashido exclaimed, shooting to her feet and pumping her fist in the air. "We'll definitely protect you."

Jirou nodded, fueled by her friend. "Yeah!!"

"You can count on us!!" Hagakure jumped up beside her.

"They won't be able to touch you anymore now that you've got us!!" Yaoyorozu declared determinedly.

"Let's go!!" Uraraka cheered. "Plus Ultra!!"

You burst into sobs at their overwhelming support despite only having just met them and the girls crowded around you in the best group hug you've ever received.

After that emotional roller coaster, they were going to bring you back to Ojiro's room since that's where you wanted to stay for the night but they heard your stomach growling and collectively decided to feed you with whatever they could find in the kitchen.

Yaoyorozu was pretty sure there was some leftover pizza that the guys had bought earlier that day.

Your protests fell on deaf ears as Ashido and Uraraka dragged you all the way there, Jirou trailing behind as Yaoyorozu and Hagakure ran ahead.

"You don't want your own room?" Jirou questioned when they finally released you.

You shook your head. "I... I don't really like being alone and Ojiro-san is my first friend I've had in a long time, so I... I trust him."

She nodded understandingly. "I get it."

"That is soooo cute!!" Hagakure swooned, balancing several boxes of various packaged Japanese snacks in her arms.

You blushed beet red, flushing further when the girls cooed at how cute you were. Pulling the collar of the hoodie up to hide your smile, you pleaded for them to stop embarrassing you. Tea kettle whistling on the stove as Yaoyorozu prepared some jasmine tea, Uraraka brought out the pizza box she had just found from the industrial-sized fridge, handing it to you after heating it up.

"Isn't this someone's food?" You questioned, not touching it. You didn't want to eat it if it belonged to someone.

Jirou pushed it towards you encouragingly with her earphone jack, smirking. "Trust me, Kaminari won't miss it."

You decided to take her word for it.

You had barely finished half a slice when the front door opened and the chilly night air blew inside. Turning around, you hopped off of the stool you were perched on and ran to Ojiro, who had an extremely exhausted Aizawa in tow.

Ojiro caught you easily, wrapping his tail around you out of instinct. It was getting to be a habit by now.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he checked you over.

You giggled, prying his hands away from their dutiful inspection. "I'm okay."

He breathed a sigh of relief but the two of you stiffened when Aizawa cleared his throat from behind him.

"As much as I don't want to interrupt whatever that is," He droned monotonously. "This has gotten a lot more serious."

You shared a worried look with Ojiro and gasped when his tail tightened around your waist ever so slightly.

"You can't stay here." Aizawa told you, fixating his eyes on the students who moved to object, more flooding in as their sensei's voice carried clearly. "You need to come with me, I'll find you a place to stay for the night."

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

Update - Harry Styles

i’ve been deep inmy harry feels and this thought just wouldn’t leave me alone so i had to write it. im thinking about starting a taglist for harry, i think i’ll write more about him in the future. let me know if you’d be interested in the taglist!

word count: ~5.9k

masterlist

Sequel: The best present

Harry is not that into YouTube videos, has never really been, which is kind of ironic seeing the number of videos on the internet that is about him. The man himself who makes everyone talk online feels weird seeing someone talking on his screen, looking into his soul as if they were right there with him. But today he felt the sudden urge to be like his peers and get lost in random rambling videos from strangers, who felt the need to put themselves out there.

He has made a mean cup of tea for himself, made himself comfortable on his couch with his laptop balancing on his thighs and now is opening up his browser to unwind in an unusual way. As YouTube opens in front of his tired eyes, he stops when he tries to type in the keywords he is searching for. What is he looking for really? He thinks to himself trying to remember what he heard from his friends when they talked about funny or interesting videos. One thing is for sure, he is trying to avoid watching videos of himself in any content. He has had enough of him for the day, it’s time to focus on someone else, even if he doesn’t know the person.

He scrolls through several pages of many different keywords until he settles for a video where a girl talks about how her latest moving day went. Starting off Harry feels weird listening to her talk about such personal things as where her bed went in her room, how she packed all her stuff to fit them in the boxes, but soon enough this feeling settles and he starts to realize it’s kind of relaxing.

It doesn’t take too long for him to fall down a rabbit hole and by the time his tea empties out from his cup he is intensely watching a guy rant about his boss at Subway while doing a mukbang. The latter is a new discovery for Harry, he has never heard of it before, but he can see why some people find it satisfying.

The video ends, Harry checks the time and sees that it’s already after midnight and he hasn’t even realized how fast time flew by.

“Alright, just one more,” he mumbles to himself scrolling down the column of the recommended videos until his eyes stop at one particular upload at the very bottom.

July update for my Sammy, ready the title and an eye-catchingly beautiful girl is smiling from the thumbnail. He finds her breathtaking, the lack of makeup, the worn out hoodie she is wearing and the many various plants in the background makes it appear she is sitting in the middle of the forest.

Harry finds himself clicking on the video before he could even decide consciously to watch it. The screen loads and the girl appears in front of him, this time in a much larger size.

“Hi Sammy, welcome back to our channel,” she starts with an angelic little laugh as she pulls her shoulders up to her ears as if the camera is making her shy. She has no reason to be shy, Harry thinks to himself. His second thought is about Sammy, he is one lucky guy to know this angel and have her think about him. “It’s Y/N here, your one and only sister,” she adds.

Sister. The word brings Harry relief and he is surprised to feel this way, but he has no time to think anything of it because she starts talking again.

“Here is my July update, I’m sorry I’m a little late, but we got back from Oregon yesterday. Aunt Ella is sending you kisses and hugs, she missed you at the barbeque, or maybe it was just your helping hand at the grill,” she chuckles to herself, probably recalling the memory.

Harry has no idea who Aunt Ella is or where she lives in Oregon, but the way she talks about it makes him feel like he is part of the family a little.

Y/N carries on and starts talking about everything that has happened in July. Painting the shed at her parents’ home, buying a new armchair, one her cat absolutely adores and refuses to sleep anywhere else now, she went to the hairdresser to get a trim, but not too much. She tells about her plans for August, how she is thinking about going to the farmers’ market more often, and she has been playing with the idea of adopting another cat.

“I think Henry has been feeling a little lonely lately. He could use a buddy,” she tells the camera, her eyes moving to the side from where a weak but moody meow can be heard as an answer. “Yeah, I think he agrees,” she chuckles and Harry finds himself smiling at the screen.

At the end of the video she asks a few questions from Sammy, how he has been doing, if his wrist feels any better, even asks about a friend called Matthew. Harry wonders if she has ever gotten the answers to her questions and where Sammy saw this video. What is he doing that made her want to do an update on YouTube?

When the video ends Harry clicks on her profile faster than he would willingly admit to anyone and it’s like he opened the gate to paradise. Tens and maybe hundreds of videos are queuing on her page, monthly updates, birthday wishes, short story times about family gatherings, news and happenings in her life.

Harry gets lost in her tales. He watches video after video, noticing the smallest details about her, almost mentally taking notes about her updates, finding anything and everything she talks about so interesting as if he knew those people and places she mentions. He comes to realization that Sammy is her older brother who is serving somewhere in the military. Y/N is making the videos to update him about her life even if she knows most of them doesn’t get to him until weeks later, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. He also learns that Sammy sends them back lengthy emails once a month and always ends them with a joke they made up with his mates at the army. Y/N loves them even when they're not even funny, she never fails to mention that she smiled reading them.

Hours pass by and the rising Sun peeks inside the window pulling Harry back to his own reality, shocked that he just spent the whole night watching her videos and didn’t even realize how deep he has gotten in her life. Lucky for him he has nothing planned until the afternoon, so shutting his laptop he sets it aside and heads straight to bed, but lying between his silky sheets he catches himself staring out the window, wondering what Y/N might be doing right now. From what he collected she lives somewhere in Spokane and has family in Seattle and Portland, which puts her quite a few time zones behind him. He finds the thought of them going to bed at the same time despite the distance a little funny. He lies in bed for quite some time before he finally drifts off to sleep with a particular girl on his mind, who doesn’t even know he is thinking about her.

“Do you think you can fall for someone you have never met?”

Harry’s question catches Mitch a little off-guard, but he is kind of used to his random bits of thoughts. Pouring some sugar into his coffee he follows the wondering singer to a free table in the corner.

“Isn’t it what all your fans feel?” he answers with a question, earning a surprised look from Harry. He hasn’t thought about this side, now the situation is kind of ironic, he supposes.

“Y’re right,” he nods stirring his coffee around in the small cup.

“Want to let me in on your thoughts?”

Harry feels a little shy to admit how he has watched all of her videos in the past few days, 207 to be exact and now he feels an oddly deep connection to this girl he has never even seen outside of a screen. Last night he dug up her Instagam profile, and even though she is not posting as frequently as she does on her channel, it was a refreshing change to see her in different settings. Chilling at a lake, having drinks with her friends, playing with her parents’ puppy, it amazed him that she has a whole life outside that small portion she lets him see in her videos.

Hesitantly, but he tells his friend about his latest hobby, if it’s not too weird to call it that, while his friend patiently listens and nods along his words while sipping on his morning coffee.

“D’you think I’m crazy?” Harry sighs leaning back in his seat, looking at his friend and colleague for validation that he hasn’t lost his mind entirely.

“Definitely not,” he chuckles shaking his head. “It’s like falling for that girl in school you know so much about but never really met.”

“Only that I’m stalkin’ this poor girl.”

“This is not stalking. We both know it’s far from that.” Harry nods with slight relief that his situation doesn’t seem as bad as he has been feeling lately. “Have you gotten in touch with her?”

“And what am I supposed to do? Comment on her video that I think her cat’s a cutie and I watched all her videos in three days ‘cuz I think she’s beautiful and I find her voice soothing?”

Mitch lets out a soft chuckle at the oddly specific answer he just gave and finds it amusing how interested his friend has grown about someone in such a short time.

“Maybe phrase it a little different.”

“So you do think I should reach out?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Use your personal YouTube, leave her a nice comment. Maybe she’ll reply.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” he chuckles. “Just go with it and you’ll see. You are obviously interested in her, it’s better than just sit and watch her videos.”

Harry agrees. It wouldn’t hurt to try to reach out to her, possibly in a not too creepy way. Maybe just a sweet comment on one of her videos and if she replies… Well, he doesn’t know what comes after, but he’ll figure it out.

Y/N updates regularly. Usually once a week and mostly it’s Sunday when a new video gets uploaded. This next Sunday Harry finds himself checking her page occasionally through the day to see if there’s a new update, but it seems like she is missing today. Right until he is driving home and gets a notification from the app.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video! It reads and Harry’s heart beats a tad bit faster. He thinks about pulling over to see it right away, but he tells himself that would be a bit too much, so he is forced to wait until he is in the comfort of his home.

Finally sitting on his couch he opens up his laptop and clicks on the video that has the title: September update.

Y/N sits in her usual spot, Henry in her arms as she is gently stroking his head with a warm smile on her face.

“Hi Sammy! Welcome back to our channel,” she greets him with her usual words and Harry loves how she calls the channel theirs. “This is my September update, even though not much has happened,” she breathes out, eyes wandering to the window besides her and Harry wonders what she sees from her window every day. Does she live in the city? Is it an apartment or a house with a backyard? Are there any trees or does her room have a terrible view, maybe just another house next to hers?

She starts her talk about the month, which she spent mostly with working, a little shopping and meeting her friends. She tells him about her planned trip to the local shelter to see possible new kittens to add to her household and Harry feels himself growing excited about it. He even thinks about what kind of cat he can see get along well with Henry even though he has never even met him.

“Anyway, mom and dad miss you, I miss you too. I loved your joke about ducks in your latest email,” she chuckles sweetly, bringing a smile to Harry’s face as well. “Mom is excited to see you at Christmas, our cousins will come to Portland as well. Maya can’t wait to play Jenga with you, she said she’s been practicing.”

The video soon ends as Y/N tells Sammy how much she loves him and eventually turns the camera off.

He straight away moves the cursor to the beginning of the video and as she starts talking again he scrolls down to the comment section that’s entirely empty. There are only two views on her video, usually a hundred is the max, but she doesn’t seem to care about the views, it’s more about the message.

He clicks to type a comment, but his hands stop above the keyboard as he tries to think of what to write. Mitch was right about taking a chance at reaching out, but what is he supposed to write exactly? Everything that comes to his mind sounds so creepy and scary, and he knows it’s weird that he formed such a deep connection to an unknown girl online. At last he starts typing.

“Hi Y/N! I’ve stumbled across your videos the other day. Love how you keep your brother updated, it’s such a nice gesture. I hope life treats you and Sammy well, you truly deserve it. Good luck with finding a buddy for Henry! Love, an admirer of yours, H.”

He reads it back several times, deleting then retyping it again until he decides to just go with it. A rush of adrenaline washes over his body when he sends the comment and it’s officially out there. Secretly he wishes she would reply right away, but moments pass by, then moments turn into minutes and nothing happens. His comment stands there alone and he has to realize that maybe she will never even reply or even see it.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself as he shuts the laptop down and goes on to do his things, but he finds his thoughts wander over to her from time to time.

He has a busy day ahead of him the next day, quite a few meetings and a fitting. He checks back for a reply in the morning, but it slips his mind the moment he leaves from home and his phone rings right away. Throughout the day he basically barely has time to check his emails, his other notifications are just sitting patiently on the bar, waiting for him to acknowledge them. It’s way past five in the afternoon when he finally have some time for himself after his fitting. He is sitting in his car, people walk past him without even realizing who is sitting behind the tinted windows. Scrolling down he gets rid of everything that doesn’t seem urgent until his eyes stop at one particular notification.

“Y/N replied to your comment,” he reads it out loud, just to make it real, as if he is seeing it wrong and saying it with his own mouth brings it to life. He quickly taps on it and the familiar video opens up and while Y/N starts talking again the screen jumps down to the comments where, in fact, there is a reply from her.

“Dear H! Thank you for your heartfelt comment! I always forget it’s not just my family who sees these videos, but I’m happy you found them interesting enough to watch a few of them.”

“A few?” Harry huffs to himself feeling a little ridiculous he has watched all of them.

“I hope I didn’t bore you too much. Thank you for the well wishes for me, my brother and Henry too. He is sending his love to you. Y/N xx”

The comment was posted three hours ago. The thought that she has acknowledged his existence with not only reading but also replying to his comment brings him extreme joy. He reads her words over and over again, looking for any clue that would give away that she found his comment weird, but it seems like she was more surprised and happy that someone else saw her video besides her brother. Harry starts to type his reply without hesitation.

“Bore me? You saved me from watching another “what’s in my bag” video the other day. It was a pleasant change. I love your plants, by the way. Your room always gives off the most relaxed vibes. It reminded me I should have more of them in my home. H”

Harry smiles to himself posting his comment, the fear of appearing like a stalker long gone from him, the interaction is making his inside blossom from joy. For his biggest surprise a reply appears just a few minutes away and Harry reads Y/N’s new lines with deep hunger.

“Those videos suck the life out of me every time! I might be having a problem with buying too many plants, but I can’t help myself. They truly bring peace to me just by looking at them. I’m glad you are planning on buying some more, you won’t regret it!”

Harry is dying to reply, but he doesn’t want to look too eager and needy, so he opts for just liking her comment to let her know he read it and agrees. He locks his phone and puts it aside with the widest smile on his face as he starts his car and leaves his parking spot.

Two weeks pass by. In those two weeks Y/N uploads two more videos, one about her time with her grandparents, for a change it was filmed at their home and they even said hello in it. Harry feels wholesome seeing her with her granny and grandpa, it’s clear she cares a lot about them. The other video is just a short one where she has met some of Sammy’s old high school friends and she had a check in from them, sending a sweet message to him through the video. Harry doesn’t doubt how much these little things mean to Sammy, even if he doesn’t get to see them right away. Seeing Y/N alone boosts his mood every time she uploads a new video, he can only imagine how they make Sammy feel.

He leaves comments on her videos without a second thought and she replies to all of them, a lot of the time almost immediately. These are the highlights of his days without exception. Knowing that she has anything to do with him just fascinates him and he is starting to realize what his fans feel towards him on a different level. Whenever he sees the notification that she has replied to what he wrote or that she uploaded a new video he flies right to her page to check it, no matter what he is doing. Some of their comment threads turn out pretty lengthy, almost like a chat conversation and it has Harry wonder how they could maybe move it to somewhere else from the comment section.

He wants to ask for her number, but figures it wouldn’t be the best idea. Regardless of how much he enjoys their short little conversations, the situation is still weird and complicated and he doesn’t want to forget that.

But he is pleasantly surprised when she brings it up herself, to move the conversation to somewhere else.

“Would love to discuss that more with you. Up for exchanging IG names?” her question reads and he blinks a few before he fully comprehends that she wants to talk to him more in private. However there’s no way he can send her his real Instagram profile and making a fake one would be way too suspicious. Opening up the private messages he sends her a short, but informative message.

“I don’t use Instagram, but feel free to text me,” and then his phone number.

He sits at the dinner table anxiously, waiting for his phone to light up from a new text, and just a few minutes later it finally comes.

“Hi! It’s Y/N,” he reads from the notification and he saves the number right away.

“Hello! Save me as Harry. I haven’t even told you my name yet, how rude of me!” he replies chuckling to himself.

“Will let it slip this time. Harry. What a nice name!”

“Is it what you thought about from the H?”

“It was one of my theories. The other one was Hayes, but Harry fits you better.”

“You haven’t even seen me, how do you know what name fits me?”

“I don’t know. You had a vibe. There are many great Harries in the world, you seemed to fit between them!”

Harry wonders if she is thinking about him without even knowing that… it is him. He wants to ask her, but decides not to. Instead, he is enjoying that he can now reach her immediately and not through a comment section. He never thought this would actually happen.

The texts never stop. They have so much to talk about! Their entire life to share, millions of thoughts and so much to discuss! Harry is not proud of the time he has spent with his eyes glued to his phone, but he wouldn’t miss a chance to talk to her for anything. Their friends are not blind to the change in him, but Mitch is the only one with a guess about why he has gotten so addicted to his phone.

“Is it the girl from the videos?” he asks Harry one time when they are at the studio, having lunch break. Different food boxes are scattered around them, on the table and the couch. Harry’s phone just light up from a text and he immediately dropped his lunch to type a response.

He glances up at his friend with a shy smile nodding his head. He hasn’t talked about his newly funded friendship with Y/N yet, it feels like as if he tells it to anyone it might evaporate into just a dream.

“So you reached out, huh?”

“I did,” he nods returning to his food once his message is sent. “She’s great.”

“Does she know who she is talking to?” Harry’s lack of answer tells enough about the truth to Mitch. “You can’t hide forever, especially if you are planning on meeting her.”

“I know,” he answers shortly. “But I just don’t know how I could even bring it up to her without sounding like a mad man.”

“She’ll need proof.”

“M’not ready to show m’self to her. What if it changes everything?”

“Then it wasn’t worth it,” he simply tells him.

Deep down Harry knows it’s the truth, but he is not ready to be robbed from the joy she is bringing him. He has never felt such a deep connection to anyone before and they haven’t even met. It’s just a version of her he is seeing on the screen, not her real self. But it feels real to him and he wants to keep this reality to himself for just a little longer.

“I wish I could hear your voice, Harry. You are one big mystery to me, you know that?”

He forgets to breathe for a moment as he reads her message, lying in bed one evening, getting ready to sleep, but he wanted to check in with her before ending the day.

“You know so much about me already,” he types back.

“Not enough, I feel like. Sometimes I’m afraid Nev and Max are about to show up at my door and tell me that I’ve been catfished.”

He chuckles at her words, though he completely understands her fear.

“What do you want from me then?”

“Send me a voice message so I know you are real. That would put my suspicion to sleep. For a while…”

Harry hesitates for a long time until he decides just one voice message couldn’t hurt. Just a short one where his voice is not that recognizable so his cover won’t be over immediately.

“Good night, Y/N,” he tells into his phone and then send the recording to her.

He watches the status change from delivered to read and a couple of minutes go by before she finally responds.

“Thank you. Now I know that you are real. I hope I’ll hear your voice in real life one day.”

“I hope that too.”

His time spent undercover is coming to an end and he knows it’ll happen soon. It’s been weeks since they started chatting, almost an entire month and she’s been hinting her will to see his face and though he has been putting it off, he knows it has to happen.

Fate is playing under his hands, because he is traveling to Seattle for a few days, exactly when Y/N is traveling there to visit her parents.

“I hope you know you can’t leave without meeting finally,” she wrote when she found out they are going to be in the same city.

“It never even crossed my mind!” he wrote back chuckling to himself, however it brought him extreme anxiety that he is now going to be forced to come clean about who he really is.

He spends his whole flight to Seattle making up possible outcomes for their first official meeting. Not all of them end well and it’s just fueling his fear that he might lose her for not telling her the entire truth.

But she is a smart girl, she’ll see your reasoning, he tells himself, however he can’t entirely convince himself that it will be the case.

In hopes of squeezing in more than just one meeting into the weekend they agreed to meet almost first thing after he lands. So after checking into his hotel he heads into the city to finally meet her in real life in a local café she suggested for the occasion. Arriving to the place he is running a little late and she already texted him she’ll be waiting for him inside. Harry is wearing a beanie with shades to try to keep up his cover and it seems to be working, no one has approached him yet.

Stepping inside the cozy looking place his eyes roam around and immediately finds her sitting in the corner, pouring sugar into her coffee, not even paying attention to the door at the moment, but truth is she’s been intensely staring at it in the past ten minutes she has been there.

Harry takes a deep breath and nods to himself before heading in her way, hands shaking nervously as he stops at her table.

She glances up at him with innocent eyes, a smile spreads across her face as she sees that her mysterious Harry has arrived and she doesn’t recognize her until he finally takes his sunglasses off.

Harry watches her face turn from happiness to surprise then utter shock as she realizes who is standing in front of him.

“You are… my Harry?” she asks, confusion laced through her voice and Harry can’t ignore how she called him her Harry. He likes the ring of it.

“M’orry if it’s a little too much f’you, I really didn’t know how to tell ya.”

Keeping his eyes on her he pulls out the other chair at the table and takes a seat across her while she is still staring at him with a shocked and puzzled expression sitting on her face. Then she looks around in suspicion as he wiggles his coat off his arms, before her eyes settle on him once again.

“It’s not an episode of Catfish, right?” she asks making him chuckle.

“It is not, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being weird, but this was literally the last thing I was expecting,” she admits leaning back in her seat. “I believed things like this only happen in movies.”

“Not just there,” he smiles, slowly relieving that she is still sitting there and hasn’t ran out. It’s going way better than he expected.

She needs a little time to put the whole picture together and befriend the thought that she indeed just developed a friendship with Harry Styles through her videos for her brother. The absurdity is still shocking to her, but the more time passes by with him still sitting there, the more she finds peace with it.

Once the shock and surprise is gone they slowly realize they are seeing each other in real life finally. Harry feels overwhelmed, she is even more breathtaking than in her videos and through texts. He is mesmerized by her whole being and could listen to her talk in person forever, he wouldn’t get bored of her.

Time stops existing as they sit at the little café, talking for hours even though that’s all they’ve been doing through texts, but they just can’t get enough of hearing each other, seeing each other’s reaction and be able to see each other and not stare at a screen while talking.

Unfortunately, time never stopped just for the two of them and soon she realizes she needs to head back home. Harry doesn’t want to let go of her just yet so he offers to give her a ride, thanking himself for getting a rental for himself upon arriving. Y/N accepts the offer so the two of them head back to her parents’ home, soaking up the last minutes of their precious time spent together.

“Thank you for today, I really loved meeting you finally,” she smiles at him once they are parked on the driveway.

“I hope I didn’t shock you too much,” he chuckles scratching his chin.

“Just a little,” she admits before they both get out of the car and walking around it she stops in front of him, after a moment of hesitation she opts for a hug that he returns more than happily.

It feels as if her frame was perfectly sculpted to fit in his embrace and Harry can’t imagine how he could go this long without even seeing her in person. He knows it’s gonna be utter misery to be away from her after they leave the city.

“Will I see you before you take off?” she asks letting go of him. Harry looks down at her, the urge to kiss her growing bigger with each passing moment, but he is not sure if it would be appropriate to give it a try on their first time meeting.

“I’m free tomorrow for a lunch,” he tells her and she nods smiling.

“Then I’m free too,” she chuckles.

There’s an awkward moment where they are not sure what else should be done or said and the more they wait the weirder it’s getting so Harry clears his throat as he takes a step back, sad that he has to leave without feeling her lips on his, but he is not trying to be too greedy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he smiles walking back to his car. Y/N waves after him and sitting back to behind the wheel he takes a moment to himself to collect himself after everything that has happened today. His hands curl around the wheel and he is about to start the car when someone knocks on the window. Y/N is smiling at him through the glass and he rolls it down curiously.

“I just…” she starts hesitantly, her eyes wander down to his lips and Harry knows what’s about to happen, but it still catches him by surprise.

Y/N leans in through the window and presses her lips to Harry’s, capturing them in a sweet, long awaited first kiss they both have been dreaming of for quite a while. Harry smiles into the kiss, bringing his right hand up to cup her cheeks as they stretch the moment for as long as possible. Whenever one pulls back the other brings them back for just one more kiss that turns into two more, then three… It takes a long time for them to finally let go of each other.

“See you later, H,” she smiles backing out of the car and running up to the front door, smiling wildly as she waves in his way one last time before disappearing in the house.

Lying in bed that evening Harry is scrolling through his Instagram feed when he finally realizes he can now follow her without a worry. He is quick to find her profile again and hit that follow button. He is happy to see she was already following him.

He is just about to put his phone aside and go to bed after such a busy but exciting day when a notification pops up on the screen.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video!

He taps on it quickly and her smiling face greets him from his phone’s screen.

“Hi Sammy! It’s me again. Welcome back to our channel,” she starts with a shy smile. The setting is new this time, he supposes it’s her parents’ home this time. “This is going to be a short video, but I wanted to tell you about something. Or someone.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about where it’s heading. He listens to her voice holding his breath.

“I met someone today. We’ve been talking for a while, but I could finally hug him today. His name is Harry, and he is a wonderful man. I think you two would get along well,” she says with a soft chuckle. “I love spending time with him and I hope he feels the same way. Actually…” Her eyes move up straight to the camera, something she doesn’t do often. She usually stares out the window or plays with Henry while talking. “I think he is watching it right now. Hi Harry!”

“Hello, Beautiful,” he greets her back with a smile as if she could hear him.

“I wanted to tell you how amazing you are making me feel. I hope I didn’t disappoint. I was so nervous to meet you today, I hope I lived up to what you imagined me to be.”

“You were so much better than that,” he answers again.

“Anyway… I hope you feel the same way. You are the first guy I’m talking about in an update, so appreciate it!” she tells him and he chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you soon, H. But until then… Know that I’m thinking about you.”

“M’thinking about you too, Angel.”

“Sammy, I miss you as always. I hope everything is well, can’t wait for your next email. I love you,” she smiles before the video ends.

Harry heads straight to the comments. This time he doesn’t leave a lengthy one, just a short line, but it has everything he wanted to tell her.

“I feel the same way.” The comment reads. Just a few seconds later comes the notification and he smiles sweetly at his phone.

Y/N liked the comment.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry #styles #one direction #harry styles fanfictions

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izlaria · 3 years

Text

Someone you like (part 1)

This work is inspired by the animatic called Someone you like by honestlyprettychill. I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to do all of the povs showcased in the video, but I just really loved the idea that Lance would eventually come to like Pidge, a romance born from years of friendship. Friends to lovers is my jam.

I’m posting this on tumblr in case I never finish it, because I just wanted to share what I’ve written so far. I might upload the whole thing to AO3 later.

I made some changes to the video’s initial idea, because I wanted to follow canon ages and I didn’t want a 14-year-old to fall for a 12-year-old. At that time, it’s a pretty big difference in development. So I wanted to establish the basis for Lance to eventually romanticize their first encounter, despite not having been attracted to young Katie.

Spanish to English translations at the end.

14 years old

The truth was that Lance went to Space Camp because Veronica could be a little pest. She knew their parents wouldn’t let her go alone and so had enticed her younger brother with the promise of travel and foreign girls and no parental supervision.

Veronica had obviously left out the fact that they were essentially going to school on steroids for a month, smack in the middle of their summer break. Cool as Miami might seem, Lance wasn’t exactly excited for all the extra work the camp would entail.

“No es un acampamiento,” his sister repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. He wasn’t listening anymore. “Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” he shot back, defensive. Veronica didn’t dignify that with an answer.

As much as Lance might like to think himself very smooth, there were still times when he stumbled over his words, especially in English. More than once he’d meant to pay someone a compliment and had accidentally started an argument of some kind.

Veronica looked impatiently at her watch. “Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.”

Lance pouted at her, arms crossed over his chest. “Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.”

His sister snickered, but it was as much of an acknowledgement as he was going to get. Veronica pressed a quick kiss to his hair, already turning to go into the main building.

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!”

In all honesty, Lance wasn’t as irritated as he made Veronica believe. He knew that a summer program in Miami was a really good opportunity, especially if he wanted to get into the Garrison in the following years. It was just difficult.

He was diligent and studious, but not as naturally gifted as some of the other kids. Besides, he hadn’t been to the US in a couple years, since his parents had mostly settled down in the family farm, which meant he still had to fall back into his English, a task made even more frustrating by the xenophobic comments from one of the boys in his AP geometry class.

The teacher had put an end to it right away, but the words stuck with Lance, for some reason.

With how much humanity had progressed in terms of technology, one would think they would be able to get past petty rivalry between nationalities and usually that was true, but the influx of foreigners following the establishment of the Galaxy Garrison in the US desert still annoyed some people, despite its existence as a multinational center for space exploration. It irritated Lance to no end, especially when so many of these scientific advances came from international collaboration.

If only he could shrug off the inadequacy that now grew in his chest.

Straight ahead, there was a path that led to a green area in the middle of the campus. The other students had taken to calling it the Woods, though it was more of a middle-sized park, with benches and picnic tables where anyone from the Institute could go to relax. That’s where Lance went, mind too full to really focus on homework.

He wondered if people would react that same way if he ever made it into the Garrison. He didn’t know how Veronica dealt with it all, especially when she was alone in Arizona most of the time. Barely a week had passed and Lance already missed his parents, the tenderness of home-cooked food and well-intended lectures.

No, he had to believe that Billy Underwood was an exception. The other kids hadn’t joined in on his taunts, even if no one had moved to defend Lance. It was still too early to make conclusions on his colleagues, especially when everyone had seemed so charmed by him before then.

Lance was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize he had been standing in front of one of the benches until a new voice broke through the peace of the park.

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

The words were somewhat harsh, but when Lance lowered his eyes to their source the girl winced, grimacing. She seemed to have spoken impulsively.

“Hmm, yeah.” Lance blinked at her for a moment, before finally sitting down on the bench. He made sure to leave space between him and the girl, not wanting to make the situation even more awkward.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” the girl said after a moment of silence. She looked at him sideways and her brown eyes seemed almost golden in the sunlight. There were freckles spread across the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks, and the green ribbon in her hair swayed in the wind. It was a soft sight, a contrast to the steeliness of her posture and gaze.

“It’s fine,” Lance hurried to assure her. She looked young, but so did he, and talking to complete strangers never failed to make him nervous. “Nothing like a little girl yelling at me to bring me back to earth.”

He gave her his best grin, the one reserved for first impressions and fancy parties. It was supposed to project confidence and kindness, even though Luis said he ended up looking a bit smug.

“I didn’t yell,” the girl pointed out with a light frown. Then her eyes shifted into a more calculating look. “You’re a bit of a goofball, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term good-humored,” he replied jokingly.

She continued to stare. Lance got the feeling that the girl did this a lot. She had an untamed intelligence to her that Lance couldn’t completely understand. It was the sort of air that teachers sometimes carried, as if they could see something deeper in you if they looked long enough.

“It didn’t seem like you were feeling all that good-humored just now.” She tilted her head to the side, letting the words hang between them.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Lance found himself saying.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” She looked so doubtful that it almost made Lance laugh. The feeling, however, was overcome by the relief of finally having someone who would listen.

He had spent the week trying and failing to explain to Veronica what was truly making him feel down. She was too busy or too happy for Lance to tell her the truth, especially when it left him so vulnerable. After all, Veronica had taken to her work on the Institute like a fish to water. Lance was supposed to be more adaptable than this.

With the rest of his family away in Cuba, he felt unbearably lonely.

“Yes! Thank you!” Lance shifted in the bench to face the girl. She was taken aback by his enthusiasm, but didn’t move away. “There’s this cabrón in my class, who thought it was a good idea to mess with me, just ‘cause I said fábrica instead of factory in our first day here. He hasn’t really left me alone since…” he whined. “I speak two languages but somehow I’m the uneducated ass here!”

The girl nodded, eyes downcast. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?” He eyed the fairness of her skin and the almost ginger of her hair. “Sorry, but you look white.”

Lance’s comment must have taken her by surprise, because she actually laughed.

“I am white. I’m also Italian.” She rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in the tug of her lips. “I can be both.”

“That’s true.” Lance grinned sheepishly. It was good that she wasn’t offended by his lack of filter. “You don’t have much of an accent, though.”

“Neither do you,” the girl bit back, no real animosity in her tone.

He shrugged. “My family spent a lot of time in the US when I was younger. It used to be second nature to me. Now, I keep feeling like I have to hold back the instinct to roll my R’s.”

“I get that. My parents moved here right after I was born, but we used to speak Italian in the house.” There was a pause here, something that she couldn’t bring herself to say. “I think it’s cool that you can speak Spanish. It’s useful.”

“Yeah?” Lance sat up straight, feeling suddenly boastful.

“Sure!” she continued, encouraged by his interest. “The Bouman Aeronautics Research Institute really values multiculturalism! It is a hob of different nationalities and perspectives, created to foster new minds from around the world! Or that’s what my brother says, at least, and he is rarely wrong.” She gave him a smirk that quickly shifted into a grimace. “Don’t tell him I said that or he will never let me forget it.”

“Older brother?” At her nod, Lance smiled. “I got older siblings too. Sort of the reason I’m here in the first place, actually. One of them was accepted as a researcher and she tricked me into applying too.”

“Same, actually.” She seemed startled for a moment, pulling out her cellphone. “Freak, I have to go! I completely lost track of time while reading.” She got up to go, collecting the book she’d apparently put down to talk to him. It was a thick volume with numbers on the cover, but it didn’t look like math.

Another green ribbon fluttered to the ground, having escaped the pages of the book. Lance bent down to pick it up.

“Here.” He stretched it out to the girl. “Wouldn’t want to lose its pair,” he said with a wink.

“Thanks for reminding me!” She grabbed the ribbon hurriedly, then paused, turning back to Lance. “And for the conversation, I guess.”

Lance grinned at her. She was a little awkward but in an endearing way, like she wasn’t used to having the attention of others on her. Given she empathized with his circumstances in the Institute, it wasn’t that big of a leap to assume that she had trouble making friends.

“Bye bye, Italian girl.” He waved, glad that he could spend these few minutes with her.

“Farewell, Spanish boy.”

Lance meant to correct her about his nationality, but she took out running, clearly late for something. He laughed at the way she stumbled across the uneven ground, careless like a little kid. It was a strange juxtaposition: the thoughtfulness of her earlier words and the childishness of her smile now.

He settled back into the bench, feeling much more content than he’d been earlier. It was nice to talk to people outside of class, for a change.

And, well, Italian girl was pretty. A bit young-looking for him, but he thought guys her age should be tripping over their feet for a chance to talk to her.

“Hey, you’re Lance, right?” A boy had approached while Lance observed the girl disappear from sight. He was tall and robust, with shortly cropped hair, but his expression was friendly. “You’re in my Analytics class.”

It took Lance a second to place him. Analytics was one of the classes Lance struggled with the most, so he hadn’t had as much opportunity to joke around there.

“And you’re Hunk!” Lance snapped his fingers, smiling. “Sit down, man! What can I do for ya?”

Translations:

“No es un acampamiento.Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.” - “It’s not a camp. You know that the field of space exploration is not very well developped in Cuba. If you really do want to work in this area, then simply shut up and don’t insult anyone.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” - “When have I insulted anyone?”

“Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.” - “Look, I have a meeting with my coordinator. And you have at least two articles to read for tomorrow’s classes. Why don’t you go work for a bit in the library? I promise to buy you a burger later.”

“Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.” - “You owe me more than a burger and you know it, Ronie.”

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!” - “Thank you, little brother! You won’t regret it!”

Cabrón - Bastard

#plance #flirtyrobot #Pidgance #Lidge #Cyance #voltron #vld #vld lance #pidge gunderson #katie holt #voltron legendary defender #vld fanfiction #lance mcclain #vld syl verse

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nissakii · 3 years

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Is Nishinoya an ESFP? MBTI Analysis with Functions

With a height of 159cm and the number 4 on his back, our fierce libero of Karasuno has always a big presence wherever he is.

One of the manliest among the crows and with his apparent animal-like instincts he never fails to impress the people around him.

All those things are visible by simply looking at Nishinoya first hand by watching the anime or reading the manga.

But there is another thing: Nishinoya is an ESFP.

Something you cannot directly see on first glance.

ESFP?

Oh yes, for those of you who are not familiar with MBTI personality test, the MBTI personality test basically gives the tester four letters meaning you are either E or I, N or T, F or S, and lastly J or P.

Last time in our post we only covered those letters and didn’t go much deeper into the cognitive functions, we only went over the letters without making any connections to the stack.

As an supposed ESFP Nishinoya’s stack is the following: Se-Fi-Te-Ni.

Step by step we will cover each function, it’s meaning considering the position on the stack and also Nishinoya’s extroverted nature (E).

I will show you my deep analysis on Nishinoya’s personality type through my own observations until the latest season and the manga (status: season 3), showing you in detail why Nishinoya is potentially an ESFP. (Yes this is a spoiler warning.)

Let’s not wait any longer and dive into the journey of Nishinoya’s personality!

Extroversion:

Ever wondered that there are people who are either surrounded by a group or have someone else around, but you never see them alone?

That’s extroversion, the kind of person who feels the most energized and happy when they can be around others.

The E in ESFP stands for the trait that shows how someone ‘charges’ their battery, meaning if they get exhausted by spending time alone or with people. In case of an extrovert, they get easily drained when they are spending time alone and derive their energy when they are around others, seeking much more social contact to refill the battery.

And Nishinoya is just that kind of person if you observe him throughout the anime.

The very first indicator of his obvious extroversion can be seen right away when he is introduced in the series, someone who is very loud and open-minded, boldly saying anything that comes into his mind at the moment.

After Hinata talks to for the first time he shows an easy-going and open nature that seems ready to interact with even strangers. He gets easily excited as seen when Hinata called him senpai and he immediately got carried away by that offering him anything he wants in return, teaching him at any time he wants to.

Not only does he get excited over that single thing but in several other scenes you can see him as a moodmaker as he pushes away the most negative aura due to the excitement of a new opponent he can learn from or confront.

He doesn’t fear direct confrontation and speaking his mind, and even when got suspended, the others asked him how he was in such good form despite being absent. Nishinoya stated that he had trained with the neighborhood women and other people to keep his training on-going.

After returning to Karasuno and playing as a regular again, it’s seen that he casually talks to the new members as well as his upperclassmen.

Additionally Nishinoya is always standing next to someone, very close, jumps on their back or like in Tsukishima’s case even bites his shoulder despite the fact he isn’t that close to him.

A true extrovert through and through.

Dominant Se:

Our first actual function, the dominant Se.

What is Se?

Se is a perceiving function aka the S for Sensing and since we established Nishinoya is an extrovert the first function on his Stack is, to no surprise, also extraverted.

Therefore Nishinoya’s dominant function is extraverted Sensing.

What does that mean now?

Having a perceiving function as your dominant function can already say a lot how you interact with the world around you and it’s the first thing people will notice when they look at you without even having to interact with you.

Since the dominant function is the first one that develops in our functional stack it’s the strongest and the most natural one we use, meaning it’s the easiest to use.

The Se in Nishinoya’s stack being his first function represents a lot about how we perceive him as a person, it could also be seen as the function when you introduce someone and the first words you would describe a person with.

What are the first words you would describe Nishinoya with?

Probably a lot and I can tell you: all of them would fall into the Dom Se category!

Now after a long explanation let’s see what the Dom Se is actually telling us.

His dominant function tells us that Nishinoya interacts with the world directly as his relationship with the world is established through physical sensation, it relies on sensory experience meaning what is happening around me is a constant question that his subconscious is trying to answer by observing the things around him.

Stimulating experiences to get a kick of adrenaline and enjoying the world around him, taking any opportunity that comes his way as he spots them and takes advantage of them.

People with Dom Se can be described as adventurous, loud, bold, courageous, adaptable and entertaining.

They also think that actions speak more than words, does that ring a bell?

Starting with the most obvious part is his strong sense of focussing on opportunities as he brushes off worries and concerns that others might have by playing them off, especially Asahi is someone he always explains not to be a worrywart, he often scolds Asahi for whining a lot instead of properly doing something unlike some other Aces.

Another one would be wearing shirts with word plays on them, especially those which sounded manly to him, as he also is determined to become a manly man despite his height and does live by those principles to fulfill the desire of becoming what he wishes to be instead of simply saying it or pretending to.

This is not the only decision he made based on the excitement he felt, even joining Karasuno was due to the fact he liked the uniforms and wanted to wear them as he regarded them as cool and manly.

His way of intaking all the events happening is clearly shown in the anime many times.

Nishinoya never takes his eyes off whenever they are playing or watching someone, always having the people and events around him in sight.

In-game his reflexes are unmatched as seen in the first Dateko match in season one where he got the ball with his foot at the last second.

Shortly before the first Seijoh vs Karasuno match, Hinata and Nishinoya were sitting next to each other watching Oikawa serve against another team. Especially in the manga Nishinoya emphasizes his strong desire to receive one of his serves since he mentioned that in his middle-school years he heard about an extremely talented setter that had powerful serves, even though they were not that strong like the current Oikawa.

His adventurous and courageous side wanting to enjoy the challenges around him is seen here clearly. He never directly spoke to Oikawa and in the practice match he wasn’t there but immediately spotted him. He also got angry when Aone spoke to Karasuno before their first match as he still holds a small grudge against him, even though he wasn’t at the scene at that point he always looks around and spotted them talking, quickly joining in.

Nishinoya’s constant watch on what is happening around him is also shown when he receives during practice despite just arriving at the gym or training independently without anyone asking him to receive, he also looks out for his team members and has a close watch on his opponents all the time like Yaku from Nekoma who stated that people like Nishinoya who constantly watch others with the desire to grow are indeed scary.

Yet those parts also show us that Nishinoya’s Se can go into extremes that may be considered unhealthy.

We see that Nishinoya is very moody at times and his behaviour flips in an instant, which can be - in Daichi’s case f.e - very annoying and unpredictable.

Nishinoya is a serious player and we also see him being hard-working showing us that he actually cares about his team but at other times his simple curiosity and superficial mindset can cause more trouble, yet we see it rather off-court than on-court when he interacts with people.

Auxiliary Fi:

The second function on his stack: Auxiliary Fi.

The feeling side we can observe in Nishinoya without digging too deep is also due to the function being rather on the top of the stack as the second function works like a support for the dominant óne.

Fi stands for introverted Feeling which is one of the judging functions, since Nishinoya’s Dominant Se is a perceiving one the information he constantly gathers also needs processing to evaluate situations and develop a good moral judgement before rushing to things.

Therefore the Se-Fi works like that: Se intakes information that Fi is going to process and evaluate properly in order to reduce more damage and help his emotional state by not completely being too reckless.

Being the second function Nishinoya resisting his Fi would be quite hard so we can see a lot of moments he actually uses it in the anime as well.

We have different varieties were his Fi is present one would be when he sticks close to his Dom Se, his comfort zone and tries to ignore the Fi but it comes out in a way or another, which is displayed through brushing off important feelings or emotions, ignoring warning signs, the lack of understanding why some paths may be dangerous and unhealthy,looking down on those who are too earnest and avoiding responsibility by playing the victim.

While Nishinoya is earnest himself and also displays those types of behaviours rather than the beginning in the series we see those slight resists in some examples.

The first scene in which Noya appeared was showing that he broke a mop and was very angry as he lashed out due to his emotions. That very scene was due to Asahi declaring that he would stop playing which stirred him up, also showing that he stopped coming to the club as well (even without his suspension) because he just can’t play if Asahi is not around, making this decision heavily based on emotions only.

Nishinoya doesn’t need Asahi to play his position, rationally speaking and with his skill-level it wouldn’t be a problem at all to keep playing with other people instead, yet he simply was against it irrationally choosing what felt right to him as he tried to blame Asahi for the whole situation they were in.

We also see that when Asahi is overly earnest and tries his best Nishinoya tends to make fun of him or look down on him for his good-nature and soft heart which is one of Asahi’s good sides yet a weak point as well.

He doesn’t take any warnings either as he brushes them off easily one example would be when he ignored the warning that the vice-principle was coming and he still ignored that fact causing him to get suspended.

Still Nishinoya’s Fi also displayed itself in a manner that can be viewed as overindulging in Fi which means when still developing Fi and don’t knowing how to use it, Nishinoya for example can use it subconsciously in an extreme manner.

The Asahi example can be again taken for that.

Another one would be that negative feelings are kept unresolved and inhibit his judgement, one of that moments are few but in the case of season 4 we see that even Nishinoya can stop to function in his position as a Libero after meeting Atsumu Miya’s serve that made him remember how he messed up many times and how he used to fear everything at a point making him feel useless.

Nishinoya takes things too personally at times too, as he almost started a fight with Kageyama on the court when they played against Dateko in season 4 episode 6 and 7.

His first reaction was feeling attacked by Kageyama’s remark about him being in the way which was justified, after the matter being explained Nishinoya backed off but the immediate reaction showed his trait.

But most of the time, especially apart of the beginning where Nishinoya started to appear, we can clearly see him use his Fi in a healthy manner.

Nishinoya’s emotions are always authentic and he accepts emotions very well not making fun of them (in a serious way that is).

He wanted to play against Oikawa due to his respect to him and his immense development in that short time he had heard from him in middle-school, motivating him even more as he played against him.

All in all his emotions are easily spotted, genuine and he shows them openly. When he is sad or touched he easily cries, when angry he gets louder and yells at people, even when Hinata talked to him he got touched and therefore offered to help him right away, simply because Hinata said some nice words.

Especially when excited and happy he even jumps high and climbs on other people’s backs.

He is also very understanding towards mistakes and short-comings, being the first one to encourage his teammates no matter if it was a good play or a big mistake.

Even on the sidelines he is the first one to jump over and rush into a hug to congratulate the one who made a point.

His famous line “I got your backs”, also shows us his other ways of showing emotional encouragement and himself displaying his empathetic nature of thinking about others while pushing his own self-care of confidence.

Someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, that is Nishinoya Yuu.

Tertiary Te:

As his tertiary function is Te his balance consists of Fi-Te.

Even when someone with an auxiliary Fi tries to resist it or there is a lack in it, in Nishinoya’s case it being the second on his stack makes it hard so Te is the defense mechanism that comes in when Fi is in one of those mentioned states.

Te rewards the lacking Fi with a sense of competence and strength, this means the lacking Fi misuses the Te causing the person to fall into a Te loop that tries to find a short-term “solution” for deep-lying self-image or self-confidence issues.

Nishinoya is very stubborn when it comes to his own skills and competences, despite being an amazing Libero and proving that fact in every match he stills seems to be never satisfied with himself and always seeks to improve, as he does that in a very domineering way not letting anyone stop him or even gets angry and resentful when someones tries to threaten or advise him that he is fine as he is. He refuses help from others at those times and does what he believes his right, as long as he sees he is competent enough to reach his goal his Te rewards his Fi with that false sense of strength to make him more confident about himself for the time-being than he actually is.

When he tells himself that he can do a certain thing for sure and obsessively emphasizes that even when he is in a monologue it is mostly to negative emotions, f.e when he fails to get receives several times or especially when he is not confident.

In season 4 we also see him almost not doing an overhand receive because it was the more secure way despite Nishinoya clearly trained to do exactly that receive especially when it came to jump floaters after experiencing Hanamaki doing it in the game of season 2.

His negative emotions mostly are buried behind a facade of I got your back, I am sure I can get any receive and many other words that should express his power.

Since we saw in the manga part and anime in season one, in the first practice match against Nekoma that Nishinoya praised Yaku for his skills but didn’t recognize his own, Yaku mentioned that Nishinoya probably doesn’t even see it himself. It shows that Nishinoya might be aware he is not confident but subconsciously expresses confident manners when in a loop.

Inferior Ni:

Ni, the last one on Nishinoya’s stack and it’s also the function that could be considered the least developed one out of the four.

While Ni is there to learn about intuitive connections it’s there to encourage yourself to nurture the inner world and reflect on the things happening around you, as well as connecting them into a context so you can fill the unknown in yourself. It also provides the imagination of idealistic ideas and envisioning the future ahead of you all that is part of introverted Intuition.

Yet in Nishinoya’s case Ni is his last function on the stack, it means he is more prone to resist and ignore his NI, especially when his Dom Se is going to extremes, this can cause the ignored Ni to become louder and louder when the problems caused by the former and it even can be threatening over time.

And that’s where Ni grip comes in, it unconsciously tries to compensate for the lack of the Se or Se extremes, but since the Ni usually is still underdeveloped it doesn’t turn out well and then the so-called grip happens.

The grip can be described when people would say this isn’t like you at all since usually the one exhibiting the grip behaviour isn’t even aware of that fact.

Nishinoya in Ni grip would be almost the opposite of what he almost is.

Hard to believe that the upbeat Nishinoya could be anything but loud and excited?

Well very wrong, in season four we actually see Nishinoya in his best Ni-grip behaviour.

Where do you ask?

Atsumu Miya standing on the other side of the court.

Yes, Nishinoya may be really excited and loves the challenge but especially in the course of the match we see him being quite different than we usually know him and see a whole different side of him.

It’s almost as if he was isolating himself while he felt trapped, felt very gloomy, frustrated, helpless, unassured and doubtful which are all signs of Ni grip.

He was doubting himself over and over and panicked about not being able to move, totally frozen and paraylzed by fear.

It’s as if the Nishinoya who said I got your back was a whole other being in that moment, his calm and contemplating nature about all the mistakes he could make by getting targeted and not being able to even move for Atsumu’s serves started in entire flashback about how he used to fear everything in his life.

He himself explained he moved on from that point where he was scared and after a long time admitted he was scared yet again like he used too as he indirectly questioned his confidence, abilities and his own value.

Usually Nishinoya who might be stubborn when it comes to advice or help but still accepts that he has Daichi and the others next to him, felt totally alone and trapped in that situation, closed-off and being able to reach out if it wasn’t for Kinoshita getting him out of that wrecked thought-process.

But Nishinoya himself questioned if this is all he could do, if this is the so-called Libero he should be and was almost freaking out by not being able to do anything due to he fear that overcame him,

It was a rare moment but that vulnerable, deep in thought Nishinoya who was unusually quiet and almost going crazy due to his inability seeking much more in that moment - That’s also part of Nishinoya but only the part that comes up when he is at his lowest.

As we understand now we surely can say, it was a moment where Nishinoya’s inferior Ni worked against him in a stressed situation, seeing it not being as developed as it should be but since it’s his inferior function around his age it’s quite normal for him to subconsciously misuse it to compensate for his Se extremes.

Conclusion:

Nishinoya is the very depiction of an ESFP as he embodies all the traits that his functions should represent. His personality type that is called the entertainer fits his fierce and energized nature, unpredictable of what he is going to do next.

With his short height yet big presence, he always stands in the spotlight as his amazing skills, loud voice and strong personality overshadow his much taller allies and opponents.

Even his flashy way of talking, his hairstyle and confidence Nishinoya earns the title of an ESFP.

Never getting tired of what is possible and what has to come, and never stopping to explore much more to what is there in the world.

Can you agree or do you see other traits in Nishinoya?

Write it down in the comments!

Until next time, rushing for my tea with a rolling thuuunder!

Makii

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