#and guess who just wrote out all the fluffy parts and now has to write PAIN next 😭😭😭

[ofgentleresolve]

guess who...instead of doing drafts ended up continuing the monster of a fanfic for their ocs?

[twilight-nephilim]

Ditto || Nagi Seishiro

Pairing: Nagi x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which, Nagi finds a peculiar note in his locker from a special someone…

Warning/s: None ! Just general fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Note: This is the first oneshot I’ve written for bllk or literally anyone in awhile so some grammatical errors here and there, besides that I hope you enjoy <33

Nagi walked to his locker with reo, he opens the door as he noticed a note sitting there, on top of all the books he put. Reo notices how Nagi looked stunned for a second and teases the white haired male. “Nagi~ Looks like you got your first love letter” The said male looks at him dismissively and opens the note to read it.

‘Stay in the middle, like you a little, don’t want no riddle. Why won’t you say it back, oh say it ditto ;)

- ♡ ’

He looks at the note and slightly blushes over it, but quickly goes back to his usual bored and chill demeanor, but not before catching the attention of Reo. “Seems like someone has a crush” Reo teased as Nagi just shrugged and put the note in his pocket. “I don’t, love seems like such a bother… unless it’s her…” He mumbles the last part and walks away.

You watch from a distance as you saw Nagi opening the locker, looking away in embarrassment. Too afraid to see his reaction. You turn to look back and saw Reo teasing him about it from the looks of it.

“If you’re gonna keep staring, might as well approach me already…” The voice caught you off guard as you saw Nagi, along with Reo now in front of you. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to stare I was just dozing off I guess…” You made up an excuse on the spot as Reo looked at you suspiciously while Nagi just shrugged it off.

“Yeah I get it… Wanna go to class together? Standing in the hallway is bothersome” Nagi suggested as he grabbed your arm and dragged you along with him, You gave Reo an apologetic look as he looked slightly annoyed but amused in what you and nagi were doing.

The three of you reached your next class as you sat down on your seat, beside Nagi. As he got his phone out to play another game, you caught yourself staring at him. The way he looked focused on his game, the way his hair looked so fluffy and his eyes slightly reflected from the light of the room.

You thought back on the note that you had put in his locker, You never saw his reaction but it was still nerve-wracking. Sure you’ve liked him since the two of you became friends but he would never see you the same way, but at the same time, he would never know it was you right?

Endless chatter from your classmates filled all of your ears but all you could focus on was him.

The front door opens as your teacher walks in, starting the class, you grabbed your notebook and started to take down notes, you were trying to solve an equation but you couldn’t figure out how the hell you were supposed to find x in that equation, looking beside you, you saw Nagi, who surprisingly wasn’t asleep.

You ripped a piece of paper from your notebook, writing ‘Nagiiii help I don’t get what teach is saying

(╥﹏╥) ‘ You passed it to Nagi beside you, looking at him, pleading. He sighs, before writing something for a bit then discreetly passing it back to you.

‘I’m not sure how to explain, but the solution for both equations are at the back, just re-read them over and over again and try to understand it srry :x’ You looked at the back of the paper where Nagi wrote both solutions, You slowly started to understand it and turned the paper over and writing, ‘tysm nagi ur a lifesaver •ᴗ•’, Passing it back to him, Nagi looks at you softly and quickly writes back, trying to pass it back but was caught.

“Mr. Nagi and Ms. Y/n why are the two of you passing notes in my class???” The teacher questions the two of you, and before either of you can respond, she shuts the two of you down with a raised voice. “Detention for the both of you!”

The bell rings as the teacher dismisses the class and you moved your chair slightly closer to nagi’s. “Sorry I got you dragged with me to detention… You have to miss your practice because of me…” You apologize sheepishly as he looks back at you and says, “It’s fine Y/n… It was worth it if it meant I got to help you, besides- practice is lame anyways.” Nagi pats your head reassuringly as you blush at his words and actions.

“W-Well… I have a different class from you and reo so see you later nagi and reo!” You said as you got your stuff and went to a different classroom.

“ ‘Love is a bother’ you say nagi???” Reo jeers at his friend as he tries to shrug it off again. “It’s nothing Reo, besides it’s not like she would see me as more than a friend anyways…” Nagi muttered the last part but the purple haired male somehow overheard it. “So you DO have a crush on Y/n—“ Nagi put his hand over his friend’s mouth, shutting him up. “I never said I did”

The day quickly passes by as it was time for both you and nagi to go to detention together, the teacher came in the room and told you to stay put while shes gone since she still had a meeting to attend to, as soon as she left the room, you saw Nagi getting his stuff. You looked at him dumbfoundedly.

“That teacher never comes back anyways… Are you not gonna leave with me?” Nagi says, “Wait really? Yeah I'll just go with you…” You got your stuff and as soon as you got all your things, Nagi grabbed your hand and straight up ran out of the door.

The two of you ran through the empty hallways as you tried to keep up with Nagi, “Wait Nagi! I'm not an athlete like you damnit!” You yelled out as he slowed down a tiny bit.

You both made it out of the school as you panted for air. After awhile you looked at him then said, “Now what?” You asked him. “You can stay at my apartment for awhile… I got a new game and I wanna play it with you” Nagi offered as you looked at him excitedly “Yeah we can do that!”

After rounds of continuous defeats for you, you decided to take a short break from playing. “Nagi! This isn't fair, you know all the controls and combos and I dont!” You complained after he beat you for like the tenth time in a row. “That seems like a skill issue” Nagi jabbed.

“Ugh! Screw you nagi!” You said back, annoyed, as you were about to get up from your spot, Nagi pulled you back down, causing you to land on his lap.

Your face started to heat up as you could feel his breath beside your ear as he whispered, “...ditto”. You turned to look back at him in shock, completely speechless from everything. “You're the one who sent that note right?” Nagi asked, but with full certainty to his voice.

“Wait-! But how did you know it was me-? Wait you like me back–? Wait—” Nagi cut you off by placing his hand over your mouth. “First, the handwriting is obvious, second, only you and reo know the code to my locker and third, I said ditto didn't I?”

You look at him speechless, unsure of what to say. Nagi notices and moves his hand to cup your cheeks.

“May I kiss you?”

You nod excitedly as he chuckled, “Words, angel”

“Yes! You may—” Nagi cuts you off by placing his lips on yours, fireworks went off in your head as you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

You both pulled away for air as you both panted for air while staring at each other, Nagi then laid down on the floor of his room, bringing you down with him. “Wait nagi– I have to leave–” “Stay.” That one simple word shocked you as you looked at him.

“Can we stay like this for awhile? I don't like being touchy with others, but I don't mind if it's you.”

[disasterbuck]

FanFic Ask Game

So I saw this post (linked above) and decided to answer all the questions instead of just reblogging and waiting for asks. Enjoy getting to know a bit more about me as a writer!

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

I love how fluffy it generally is and how my fics always have a happy ending 🥰

😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

I don't think I'm embarrassed about my writing? Maybe sometimes I'll write a kiss that feels a bit cringe?

👻 What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up?

'the heist wip'. Inspired by the episode Ocean's 9-1-1, I wanted to explore what situation could make them ACTUALLY turn to crime. I had a vague idea of a woman's dog being kidnapped by her abusive ex, and Buck gets all obsessed over it and eventually asks the rest of the team to help him break the dog out or something. idk. I don't have a solid enough idea and I feel like it would end up being a long fic which I just can't commit to atm. (If anyone reading this is inspired by this idea, feel free to write it!! But please tag me if you do! I would love to read it!)

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

... I don't think so?

Yeah I've just had a skim through and can't find anything that I would never share if I managed to finish it.

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

Ooohhh, I love getting comments on ALL my fics but I guess if I had to choose I'd probably go with Friends Don't (8.5k) because it has a special place in my heart.

✏️ Do you write every day?

Not strictly, but most days yes.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

"Back to my point," Chimney said once Hen's laughter died down. "You two are codependent. I bet you couldn't even go a day without having to touch each other."

Buck's face flushed a darker shade of red.

"Yes we could," Eddie argued, suddenly stubborn and confrontational. "We could go a week."

"You wanna bet, Diaz?" Chimney asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

After a quick glance to communicate with Buck, Eddie nodded and said, "You're on. What are the terms?"

don't say his name wip

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

I wrote 4 drabbles exactly 100 words each!! It took quite a bit of editing and revising but I'm really happy with how they turned out! You can read them here if you're interested: buddie month | four drabbles

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

fhdskjfhs I HOPE NOT 😅

🌙  What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

I don't really have a preferred time of day?

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

Yes. And no. lol

📊 Current number of WIPs

............................ 104 🙈

👨‍👧‍👧 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic? 

Depends ENTIRELY on the person. But generally yes. This does not equal letting them read my fics though lol.

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

Hm, good question. Maybe Athena?

📝 What is one growth area you have for your writing?

Uhhh I don't know. I feel like I'm constantly learning about writing and just generally trying to improve in all areas.

📚 Do you read your own fic?

YES ALL THE TIME. I looooove reading over my fics. Makes me so happy!!

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?

Writing kisses. Or endings. Both. Every time Buddie are about to kiss I tend to abandon the fic for a while lmaoooo and then whenever I have to wrap it up it takes me 3-5 business days.

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

Up for anything. All I've got for it so far is this:

Buck: No, I mean it. I'm up for anything. If you can come up with something I won't do you win. But I'm telling you right now I never back down from a dare.

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

fhjskfh I hate research. My deepest dive is whatever happens in the show. I'll rewatch or maybe read wikis to make sure I get show details accurate but anything else? I'm making that shit up bestie 😅

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

🙈 sweet, emotional, aaaaaand heartwarming? idk

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

I don't have headcanons about my own work! Everything is canon! They're my works! My reality! YOU can have headcanons about my works lol.

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

Of my own or someone elses?

Of my own fics, I love you (4k) is my fave.

Someone else's, the first that comes to mind is The Best Lie is a Truth (My Best Mask is My Face) (43k) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels uggghhh it is chef's kiss!! Fake dating my beloved! 💕

👩‍🏭 If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

Lazy Mornings (1k) for being so freaking adorable 🥰

⏰ Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

I think it's fairly equal? But maybe a bit more time writing, because a lot of the reading I do is of physical books rather than fic.

-

taglist because there's a sneaky snippet hidden above:

@dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc

@therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @smolfunpenguin

@awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995

@brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @sunflower-eddiediaz

@darkrose6578 @veronae-buddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @loveyouanyway @inell

@spicyrottingbrains @gnoeltop @idealuk @donationwayne @lemotmo

@smilingbuckley @realpersonwithrealfeelings @superlock-in-the-tardis @mjthe14thdoctor @strxwbereee

@idontknowwhatimdoing777 @ashleigh2658 @mari-lwyd-fannibal-blog @mineyneedsmoney

@spotsandsocks @unlifeira @pirrusstuff @buddiedaydreamer911

@littlevampireprincessuniverse @misshiss727 @i-put-the-star-in-bastard @hermioneindisguise @dangerpronebuddie

@specialbrownieeater @blue-winged-boy @bucks-daddy-issues @lightningmcqueer8

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed 💕

p.s. I'm updating my taglist, check out the info on this post

[spotsandsocks]

Fuck it Friday 🐓

Tagged by @rogerzsteven @wildlife4life @prince-buck-diaz @panbuckley @heartbeatdiaz @thewolvesof1998

I’m gonna share two things cos I want to…

Ok I wrote this silly little think because of anon with a question about chickens and some of you have seen it but thought I’d share anyway 🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

“Bobby! What on earth?”

Athena's eyes move slowly taking it all in. To say it’s not what she’d been expecting when she came home is something of an understatement. She’d never have guessed Bobby would do something so… random.

“Hi honey. You’re home early.”

“Bobby, why are there four chickens in my kitchen?”

Bobby holds out his hands, “Well two reasons really, one. I haven’t moved them to their coop yet and two Happy Anniversary!”

“It’s not our anniversary.” She speaks slowly and softly, unwilling to startle the birds who are all now looking towards her.

Bobby's smile is blinding. “Ah well that depends on what day you’re counting from, because if you count the day we met probably it’s four years today.”

“It is?” Her husband is a constant surprise.

Bobby steps carefully round the nearest chicken who’s just started wandering around now, to kiss her on the cheek.

“It’s ‘Chicken day’”

“Chicken Day?” she echoes weakly.

“Yup, so I thought we should get a chicken for each year since then.”

“Uhhuh!” There’s not much else to say really. Her eyes track the wandering birds.

Bobby points, “So meet Debra, Denise, Doris and…” he bends to scoop the closest chicken up. Athena leans back as he thrust the bird forward.

“Esmeralda.”

“Esmeralda?”

Before she knows it Athena has a chicken in her arms and Bobby is shooing the others towards the open back door.

“Come on let’s show the girls their new home.” He’s out of the doer when he calls back over his shoulder “I was thinking we could maybe get a rooster too, like Maurice.”

Athena follows her husband and the newest members of her family into the garden. What choice does she have? After all, it is Chicken day.

And…

I know I said no more purple eyed mating fic shenanigans but then people posted smutty things and I’m writing smutty things so I thought just a bit won’t hurt, prove there’s going to be mating in the mating fic that’s close to 10k right now. This is just some fluffy prelude to hotter things

Hovering over his mouth, lips almost brushing when he speaks Eddie whispers “I’m gonna kiss you know ok?”

Buck tilts his head back, eyes closed, lips parted. He nods silently asking for Eddie’s lips and Eddie’s more than happy to cooperate.

Gently he touches Buck's chin and closes the last fraction of an inch needed to bring their mouths together. The tension in him drains away at the first taste of Buck’s eager pink lips. He keeps the slip and slide of lips soft and it doesn’t take long until he feels Buck’s body relax too and he opens wider inviting more. So Eddie give him what he needs. He adds the soft stroke of his tongue just the way Buck likes and hear a soft sound of appreciation. A hand tenses on his hip pulling him tighter. The smile on his face doesn’t interrupt the kissing at all.

They kiss again and again, Eddie’s hand constantly stroking a new part of Buck, back shoulder sides, slipping across his hip and across his arse still in boxers, down to his strong things and the soft skin at the backk of his knees. They kiss and kiss and touch until Eddie’s lips are swollen and his jaw aches in the best way and Buck's hands have started their own route of exploration.

Tagging to share if they wish or enjoy this snippet if they’re inclined @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @spaceprincessem @cowboy-buddie @alyxmastershipper @thekristen999 @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @shortsighted-owl @heartshapedvows @wikiangela @bekkachaos @the-likesofus @like-the-rest-of-la @buddierights @fiona-fififi @fleurdebeton @ronordmann @megsvstheworld @honestlydarkprincess @

[mengyao]

3, 5, 6, 22!

3: What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need?

my problem is that i can always be arsed to write all the set-up and context and this is how i get into Pickles (all my wips get out of hand.) i'm sure there's something though… OH i know. it's the ling wen/pei ming/shi wudu fic of my dreams, which involves escalating bets/wagers and culminates in a sleazy threesome but they all have feelings about it but the feelings are complex and unnameable. they are not in love but they love each other but also they don't. but they do. you know.

to get the vibe i want, it couldn't just be pwp though. like i would want this to be a trojan horse of emotionally dense 3 tumours character study. but also funny, because they're comedians to me. minimum 5k of buildup necessary, and in order to do that and have it be good i would have to Get A Degree In Pei Ming And Ling Wen And Shi Wudu and tbh the reason i don't write more poly ships is that having to canon review to get two characters' voices down is enough work as it is… you expect me to do more than that……………….

5: What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

i've flippantly posted about this before but i do feel like i have an elevated level of insight into the nhs + nmj dynamic due to the circumstances of my dad's health issues/head injury/death lmao. i would never do all of that though <3

6: What character do you have the most fun writing?

nie huaisang is the obvious answer (assigned comic relief at birth. a font of earnest sadstuck. deserves to go to prison. the swiss army knife of blorbos.) but shi qingxuan is edging up there. i thought my beefleaf sex pollen fic was going to be 3k but it ended up 8k because sqx as a pov character just kept going and going and going and i was having a GREAT time. i used to shy away from writing characters who are talky and have big personalities because i felt like whatever i wrote would turn out feeling fake and/or annoying, or that it would be more obvious if my characterization was off than if the character was more subdued… i guess i'm just more self-confident now?

more than just being extroverted and chatty, i think what's sooo fun and novel to me about shi qingxuan is that they're such a doer. after primarily writing cerebral repressos for the past 15 years it's so refreshing to write a character whose reaction to most situations is to follow their instinct… they keep the plot moving! never a dull moment!

22: Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

ah ha ha ha ha yeah no i reread stuff i wrote in the last ~2 years allll the time. i know what i like! and if it already existed up to spec i wouldn't have written it! there's definitely stuff i find cringe and parts i skim if i'm not happy with them but overall i spend a lot of time on my own ao3 page......

///

you also asked about foowd extras... i still find writing + sharing these kind of mortifying because despite bravado about my trans fanfiction brand, part of my brain is still like "okay but NOW it's cringe because NOW it's not 'suicidal closeted trans character is depressed and makes bad choices' but 'comparably emotionally stable character is a known transgender and has some good things happen to her' so everyone will point and laugh over your SELF INDULGENT WISH FULFILLMENT!!!1!1!!1" because the particular brainworm i find very difficult to remove re: residual shame over writing trans fic is the idea of anything you write being automatically discounted as personal projection basically on par with readerfic rather than coming from being genuinely interested in the canon character(s). and wanting to write about nice things happening to fictional trans people being like, THE WORST MOST CRINGE thing you could ever do. but i persisteth.

it's funny because i WOULDN'T even say they are just fluffy wish fulfillment stuff... the four "chapters" i'm planning on posting have a bit of an emotional arc, and what interested me enough to write them out instead of just leaving them as comfy eyelid movies were questions like "now that it's actually happening, how WOULD nhs actually feel about the prospect of not only stepping down from sect leadership but uprooting her entire life to go join another sect," with the idea that, if that were to actually happen rather than stay an escapist fantasy, she'd probably feel... pretty conflicted about it! it would be weird (even if ultimately worth it)!

so there's that. and then there's the fact that the entire original fic largely sprung out of ideas about sangcheng eventually being in a long-term relationship that looked a certain way, and then reverse engineering the interpersonal arc that would be needed to get them there (and that becoming the main fic.) foowd proper ends when they've only just even actually "become a couple," and you don't get to see much of that... so i wanted to chuck at least SOME of what i imagine about straight married sangcheng's day to day life into the world. (not that it's even at that point yet LMAO. EVENTUALLY!!!) if for no other reason than that there's a strong chance that sometime i'll reference something from the extended foowd lore in casual conversation forgetting that no one has any idea what i'm talking about because it does not exist anywhere except my brain

[solargoose]

I wrote and illustrated a scene from this AU :) Under the read more cause it’s a bit long with both the writing and the pictures.

The moonpool was lit with a bright, starry glow, out of which stepped three cats. A fluffy, silver tom, an elegant black she-cat, and wiry brown tabby she-cat. The three sat on the surface of the water, still haloed in the blue light of Starclan, and dipped their heads in greeting to Jayfeather and Lionblaze.

Lionblaze stepped back a pace, startled by the sudden appearance of the Starclan cats. He glanced quickly at his brother. Jayfeather’s jaws were parted, drawing in the scent of the visitors. A moment later, his fur lay flat and he turned towards Lionblaze.

“I recognize their scent from Leafpool’s memory. These are the cats that appeared when we were born.” He murmured.

The silver Starclan cat nodded. “Yes, we were there. My name is Riverstar, and this is Shadowstar and Windstar. We witnessed your birth, and gave you your powers.”

“How? Why?” Lionblaze couldn’t help but ask. “We’ve heard the prophecy but it doesn’t explain anything.”

“Time is like a river. The banks are steady, and the river flows the same way. But the individual raindrops that make up the river? Those are constantly changing. The wind blows a different way and raindrops that would have joined the river soak into the ground instead.” Riverstar explained calmly. “Those raindrops are cats, the wind is life - the choices made by cats and other creatures, nature, the weather, any number of things. A cat decides to go for a walk in one area instead of another and meets a different mate, has different kits than they might have otherwise. Some raindrops reach the river, others don’t.”

Lionblaze fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I guess I understand that, sure.  But what does that have to do with our powers? We just happened to be a group of three ‘raindrops’ when you needed them?”

“No, you three aren’t raindrops. For whatever reason, you’re part of the river bank. The raindrops around you shift - who your parents are, what other apprentices you train with, even what clan you’re from. But the three of you are always together.”

Lionblaze turned again to look at his brother. His expression was unreadable, but Lionblaze didn’t think he looked surprised. I guess it’s nice, knowing that, no matter what, we’re meant to be together. 

“If we were always meant to have these powers, then why wasn’t Hollyleaf given hers?” Jayfeather demanded quietly. “And if it had to be three, how were we able to contact you without her?” His tail was flicking angrily, but his voice remained impassive.

Shadowstar stepped forward to answer him, her ears flat. “We didn’t hold her gift back as punishment, if that’s what you’re implying.” She lifted her chin. “Our connection is fragile, and your birth was difficult. By the time Hollyleaf was born, we weren’t able to reach her anymore. As for why we can communicate now, Thunderstar is assisting.”

“But this connection won’t last long either. We need to pass on the third gift now, or we may never get the chance.” Windstar warned.

Lionblaze’s shoulders drooped. “Hollyleaf is gone. Surely you know that. So how…” His words trailed off, his throat suddenly tight with the thought of his sister. Her tail disappearing into the falling rocks…we don’t even know if she’s alive or not.

Shadowstar spoke up again. “Now that we’re closer to the prophecy’s completion, it doesn’t have to be Hollyleaf. Any cat that shares blood with Firestar or some of Firestar’s kin will do. But they’ll need to be brought to us quickly.”

“Lionblaze.” Jayfeather said quietly. “Go get Goldencloud.”

Lionblaze’s eyes widened with shock. “Are you sure? Will she…” He thought of the rift that had opened between them and the cat they’d thought of as their sister. “Will she even come?” he finished softly.

Jayfeather turned to face him, a knowing look in his bright blue eyes, made all the brighter by the glow of Starclan. “She’ll come.” He declared.

Turning, feeling the shadows wrap comfortably around him, Lionblaze raced up the slope. As he neared the top of the hollow, his thoughts were so firmly fixed on Goldencloud that he nearly tripped over the two small shapes huddled at the entrance.

Startled, he scrambled to a halt and stared down at them. It was Dovekit and Ivykit, staring back at him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Lionblaze yelled, trying not to snarl at the young kits. He didn’t want to scare them, but he was startled and stressed.

The kits’ eyes widened even further. It was obvious to Lionblaze that they hadn’t really thought about what would happen if they were caught.

“We just…we wanted to know where you were going.” Dovekit mewed softly, her voice shaking slightly.

Oh no, Lionblaze thought, trying to look less intimidating in the hopes of calming the kit. Powers or no, Whitewing is going to claw my ears off when we get back.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” He murmured quickly. “Just stay here and…”

In the hollow below, Lionblaze saw the light dim and flicker. We’re running out of time. Lionblaze thought, panic squeezing his chest. Knowing it wasn’t a good idea, he made a quick choice.

Scooping up Dovekit by her scruff, Lionblaze turned and ran back into the hollow. Behind him, he heard Ivykit cry out and begin to give chase, her tiny paws thudding against the stone as she ran as hard as she could. Guilt spiked through Lionblaze, but he kept running. 

It’s the only option. There isn’t time to run back to the camp and convince Goldencloud or someone else to follow me. This is what we have to do, to save the clans. Lionblaze thought, trying to convince himself. 

At the moonpool, Jayfeather turned in surprise, his ears pricked at the sound of Lionblaze’s return and the shrill cries of Ivykit. Dovekit had remained quiet, whether out of shock or simply because she trusted Lionblaze he wasn’t sure.

“What are you-” Jayfeather began to say as Lionblaze placed Dovekit on the ground in front of the moonpool.

“We’re running out of time. They followed us here and - Whitewing is Cloudtail’s daughter, they fit the prophecy.” Lionblaze explained in a rush.

Windstar stepped forward, leaning down to touch her nose to Dovekit’s head. The blue glow briefly enveloped the tiny gray kit, and Lionblaze heard Ivykit wail softly.

“May sight and sound come to you as swiftly as the wind.” Windstar murmured. 

The light flared, then faded slowly. Dovekit uttered a small whimper as Windstar pulled back. Ivykit, finally reaching them, sprawled onto the ground beside her, panting hard. 

“Stay away - from my - sister!” Ivykit gasped out.

“Worry not, little one.” Riverstar purred, leaning down to lick Ivykit gently on the head. “Your sister is fine.”

She doesn’t really look fine. Lionblaze noted, feeling the guilt he’d tried to push away come rushing back. Dovekit was huddled silently on the ground. Every few heartbeats she flinched, her tail bristling and her eyes darting wildly. 

“Is that it, then?” Jayfeather spat, lashing his tail. “All the gifts are given and we can fix whatever’s gone wrong now?”

Shadowstar nodded and opened her mouth to speak. Before she could, the light around them flickered, then went out completely. The Starclan cats disappeared along with it, leaving the four Thunderclan cats alone in the hollow.

(ID: Three cats outlines in silvery-blue and surrounded by a blue glow with stars. From left to right, the cats are Riverstar, a fluffy silver cat with green eyes, Shadowstar, a black cat with dark green eyes, and Windstar, and brown tabby cat with yellow eyes. End ID.)

(ID: Jayfeather, a gray tabby cat with blue eyes, and Lionblaze, a golden brown tabby with amber eyes, in profile, facing the blue starry light. Jayfeather’s mouth is open, and Lionblaze has his ears back in fear or concern. End ID.)

(ID. Lionblaze running up a rocky slope. Tendrils of shadow wrap around him. End ID.)

(ID: From Lionblaze’s point of view, looking down at two kittens sitting in front of his paws. The kittens are Dovekit, a gray kit with white paws and blue eyes, and Ivykit, a white and gray tabby kit with blue eyes. Both are wide-eyed and frowning. End ID.)

(ID: Dovekit sitting in front of Windstar, who is bent over to touch her nose to Dovekit. Dovekit’s ears are back in fear. In the background, Ivykit stands looking frightened, her mouth open and ears flat. End ID.)

[withlovewendy]

Been a long time..

I don't check in here enough, seems like I don't spill my thoughts out as often as I did back in my younger days, I wonder is it a good thing or a bad thing? Being a parent for so long now.. I feel like my time is so sparse, like I constantly worry about my next duty while being present in life, and most of my time is spent on planning, worrying, thinking of what I need to do next instead of "enjoying".

Been more than 6 months since I wrote here, and so much has happened..

Firstly, Luki came to us and went opposite my house. How it happened? Well, I guess it was a really bad timing to adopt a dog, a Golden Retriever no less when you're still in the midst of shifting house and completing renovation. I held it in for two whole weeks, shifting between two houses while trying to do my mom duties, preparing the new house while maintaining the then current house. It was so much on my plate at that time, I was sleeping in a tent in my new master room, with no curtains, no mattress, the house had no furniture, no kitchen and I was cooking instant food on the floor with a ramen pot.

I loved having a dog but really, timing was so bad and I'm so thankful my neighbour decided to adopt him so I can be his part time mom, I can still do the fun things with him and return him. To me, it's a win for everyone, my neighbour who has no kids get to have a furkid to love and keep themselves busy as well. As of writing, it's been officially 7 months since I moved in, the journey was long and taxing, but I'm finally feeling settled down now, the house really feels like home now, it's cozy, safe and I don't feel like I'm trapped. I tend spend a lot more time outdoors, started a mini garden a couple of months ago and currently into fostering stray mama cats and their babies.

While I was still living at my old place, I thought of fostering cats but the lack of space made it really inconvenient and I just shut that idea out. However, after moving here, I know I can help out because it's a lot easier to access the cats and that's what I did. Two days into Luki being with us, came Emma and her six babies. I couldn't reject them this time as they were right in front of my house and I knew I had to do something. The babies were literally running onto the road and it was a matter of time before they become roadkill. So, I transformed my kid's study room into a makeshift cat room/nursery and it was a long path to getting them adopted by loving families but eventually we got there. Emma got spayed and is now living her best life, looking all shiny and fluffy compared to her matted and skinny self when she first came.

With me now is Ginger, funny enough she wasn't even my stray as she was from the next road but seeing her pregnant I knew I had to intervene. It was quite an adventure to get her in because she gave birth in my neighbour's car and there wasn't anything I could do so it took a village to extract the kittens out as they were in the undercarriage. I did the same set up again as I did for Emma and with experience now, and a settled house, the fostering process is a lot easier and enjoyable compared to Emma's time. Back then, I just remembered feeling very overwhelmed as I had to deal with Luki, and I had just recently brought Thomas, Norah, Salem and Mei Mei over to the new house and these additional 7 cats didn't make life easier.

So that's about the update for now, kids are still adjusting to the new distance to school although we've been doing it for a few months now, I'm a lot more at ease here as I tend to be able to find things to keep me busy and there's so much more to do with a bigger house (more cleaning!) but I'm not complaining because I love the space that I have in my kitchen, the openness of the house just makes me feel like I can breathe.

[heyitsthatonesmolgay]

Rant below the cut (and yes, there will be swearing. No, I don’t care.)

Listen, Connie wrote some fucked up shit. She held an account on a website that kept track of her writing streak. She maintained that streak, through blood sweat and tears, for almost two years. And she shared that writing online sometimes. It was fucked up, as previously stated. It shared dubious scenarios, perilous scenes, and in general got her flames and hate.

She’s mentioned this before, I’m sure, in the form of “journalling.” She would still write it, just keep it to herself now. After she got doxxed and got sexual assault threats, she decided it was better to get a fresh slate, start a new account where no one knew her and make some friends in a new fandom, a fandom she had adored since childhood.

Then, she integrated, and Nick became host.

Nick still wrote some fucked up shit. Maybe not as much as Connie, but he did. It was cathartic, though he couldn’t place why. It just…was. He kept it to himself, too, remembering the hurt Connie held from the myriad of threats on her person prior.

The reason I’m saying all this?

Nick feels guilty that he doesn’t create as much for posting anymore. He keeps traumatic shit to himself, but that’s about all he’s been writing lately. And there’s pretty good reason for that.

He found out why writing those stories was cathartic, about a month ago.

And we were 3 when it happened. And then again, at 18. And the time in between our father leaned on us too much, treating us like a friend instead of his child.

So. Nick has been writing fucked up shit, trying to process. But that revelation has left him depressed. He shattered a bit ago, his parts still mainly one alter but with different layers, and Nick isn’t usually the one in control, because he’s struggling with the emotional trauma realizing that we were a victim long before we could understand what that meant, long before we thought we were at first.

Oh, all of them still respond to Nick, but the one who kept that name specifically for himself isn’t as much the Nick you see today.

He feels guilty over the fact that he can’t make happy, fluffy, hurt/comfort, happy ending shit anymore. All he wants to write is dark, and depressing, and stuff that probably qualifies as what fandom nowadays treats as “dead dove.” Because while he doesn’t care as much if people know online, where he’s anonymous and goes by Nicholas Benedict, and not his legal name, he still values the friendships he’s made and doesn’t want to be pushed away because of his trauma and posting the writing he’s using to process.

He needed to let this go into the ether and let his friends be the judge of if he’s salvageable, but he also didn’t want to face the consequences if they decided no and blocked him for writing fucked up shit he kept to himself.

So we’re making this post. If you want to block us, you’re free to, I guess. It will hurt but it is your right.

If you still want to be our friend…understand that there won’t be trauma dumping on this blog as far as we can help it, and there won’t be intentionally fucked up nasty shit on our AO3. Nick keeps that to himself for a reason. But you need to understand that processing is important, and so we’ll post less than we’d like, and we’re not a content-producing machine with no feelings, so if you’re only here for fluffy or hurt/comfort MBS content you’re not going to be interacting with our blog as much for a while.

And no, we will not be answering any questions pertaining to Connie’s old accounts or what she wrote specifically. That’s private, and she didn’t share for her safety. Leave well enough alone.

Rant over, I guess.

Milligan & Two

[thebibliosphere]

Why did you write two versions of Hunger Pangs?

What’s the difference and is one more “valid” than the other?

I get a lot of questions when people find out I wrote two versions of Hunger Pangs (Phangs). To answer that second question first, the only difference is that one contains explicit sexual content, and the other merely alludes to it.

The Flirting with Fangs edition (red cover) contains multiple scenes that depict sexual acts, either solo or partnered. (link)

The Fluff and Fangs edition (blue cover) is less explicit. I say less because while the scene(s) fade to black, some elements of physical affection are still shown, along with a fairly involved conversation about consent and kink. This is in the latter half of Chapter 28, and as noted on my website, you can skip this part if it makes you uncomfortable and not miss anything important to either the plot or character development. (link)

Both versions contain heat ratings and content warnings on my website. I can’t put it in/on the books themselves because Amazon is going after authors for mentioning content warnings (link), so when in doubt, check www.joydemorra.com or send me a message!

And no, one version is not more “valid” than the other. Both are canon. If it helps, think of them as parallel universes running side by side down the narrative timeline. The plot and character development remain the same; the scenes have just been altered to accommodate reader preference. 

Then why do this at all?

As stated above, I wrote two different versions primarily to accommodate reader preference. When I first started writing Hunger Pangs: TLB, I was widely known on Tumblr for being “that erotica editor.” (link) I used to be a ghostwriter for my publishing house, too, so chances are some of you have already read my work under another author’s name*. A large chunk of my professional life has been spent writing sexually explicit content. It’s what I was then known and popular for, so it never occurred to me that anyone who was sex averse or didn’t enjoy reading about sex would be interested in my work.

And then those exact people started messaging me to let me know they were super excited about my work, couldn’t wait to buy a copy and would just skip past the sex parts that made them uncomfortable.

And that didn’t sit right with me. 

Phangs is a bit of a weird project. It was started via a Tumblr shitpost (link) and grew from there. It was funded entirely by the support of my Patreon, which people kept supporting even after it took me years longer to finish it than initially planned because my health took a proverbial nose dive into the tenth circle of hell. It is not an exaggeration to say my Patreon and Tumblr kept me alive during that time. You kept our lights on and put what little food I could eat into my fridge. You supported me both physically and emotionally during one of the worst times of my life. And during that time, I wrote the entire Phangs series, assuming it would be edited and published posthumously**. It was both my swan song and a parting gift. A means of saying thank you for all your support over the years and the fervent hope you’d feel my love on every page. Because never doubt this, I wrote Phangs for you. Phangs is a love letter to fandom from start to finish. It’s written specifically to appeal to fandom and all the things we love about it.

So when people told me they were going to buy it but skip parts of it, I felt the need to make sure they were getting equal amounts of content for their money. So the “fluff” version of the narrative was born, replacing the sex-based scenes with more emotional and “fluffy” but still intimate interactions that keep the character arcs and plot intact.

For the first book, I tried to keep the scenes as similar in theme as possible. That’s why Chapter 28 still features a frank discussion around kink and consent, as a large part of Vlad’s character arc is learning that his wants and desires matter, but more importantly, so do his boundaries. But I also purposefully wrote it so that you can skip away after that conversation and not miss anything in the lead-up to the fade to black/implied sex scene. As the series progresses, the scenes may differ more as I play around having fun with it. But the fact remains that the characterization and plot will always stay true.

It’s merely about what kind of reading experience you want.

Do I expect other authors to do this? Absolutely not. This is a labor of love. The “fluff” version being popular is merely a bonus that enables me to keep writing. So thank you. I’m off to keep working on the next story.

 *Before anyone asks, no, I can’t tell you who. I signed NDAs that are still in effect.

**Jokes on me, I guess because I lived, and now I have to edit and rewrite all 500-f*cking-k of it. 

[joshscurlyhair]

☽ 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 - 𝕛𝕠𝕤𝕙 ☽

Summary: Y/N has been dreaming of an unknown man for a while now that it is making her wondering who he is. After doing some research she finds out he’s a musician for a band. One day she walks around her town to get some air when suddenly she bumps into the man who’s from her dreams. Has he been dreaming of her to?

Word count: 1.6k { AUTHORS NOTE: Thoughts on Part 2? I also really enjoyed making this and thought the song fit perfectly along with the story vibe. Happy reading! 🍂🤎} ☾Join the Taglist!☽

Everything about him was ethereal

His pretty brown eyes

His fluffy curly hair

His perfect smile along with his perfect teeth-

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your thoughts were then cut off by your coffee machine beeping. You poured yourself a cup of coffee into your mug for the morning. You then walked over to your windows and opened the blinds letting some light into the house showing the pretty leaves that were outside on the fall crisp morning. You sip on your coffee and softly smiled at the sight. You then decided to sit down at the kitchen table and wrote in your planner, writing some to-do’s for the week. As you were writing your to-do’s you couldn’t stop thinking about that man in your dreams you were dreaming months about.

MONTHS!

You’ve never seen this man in your life before and you were dreaming of him for months now. You snap out of your thoughts and quickly grabbed your laptop and headed to Google and decided to do some digging on who exactly this man was, or even if he was real. You took another sip of your hot coffee feeling the hot liquid in your mouth. You pushed your clear glasses up to your eyes and started to stare at the screen for a bit thinking exactly what to search for first and how to word it.

You close your eyes to see if that would help you remember him more.

You were at their concert, all you could focus on was him and all he could focus on was you just staring into your eyes

His beautiful brown curly hair

His perfect smile

His facial hair that rested above his lip and on his chin

“Goddammit what can I type?” I say to myself staring at the Google search bar trying to think what to type. You shook your head and began to type:

Lead singer with brown curly hair and facial hair

Your eyes began to look through the images seeing if any of them were him.

Nope nothing

“Umm” you say as you began to think again of what to type.

Singer with curls and wears jumpsuits

You began to search with your eyes again looking at the images and found nothing again. You let out a loud groan and began typing more things that could possibly fit to get any picture or information of who this man is.

—————-

It’s been almost two hours now searching this man up and no luck. You let out a groan and started looking at the ground thinking what to do.

Guess I’ll never know who this man is

You stood up and put your coffee cup in the dishwasher then began to make some lunch for the day. You opened the fridge and start to assemble a sandwich. You decided to bring your computer up to the kitchen counter and put on a YouTube video while you made your lunch. You opened the YouTube app and began analyzing the recommended videos that popped up. You then just decided to click on a suggested playlist that was on your feed and began jamming to a couple of songs, swinging your hips side to side along with the music.

Once you were done making your lunch you sat your plate down onto the kitchen table about to sit down when suddenly you hear a guitar riff coming through your computer speaker. You never heard of the song but it sounded really good. You bobbed your head along with the music. Sounded like it was a live version since you heard what sounded like people screaming in the background.

“Champagne, caviar anyone?”

A male voice said though your computer speakers. You look up from your plate and furrow your eyebrows. Something about that voice, you couldn’t put your finger on it. You decided to turn your computer around so it was facing you and you laid eyes on the video that was right in front of you.

“Holy shit..” You let out

It was HIM

You dropped your fork on the table and pushed your plate away and brought the computer to you watching the video. “Holy shit it’s him”

You watch them preform, he was so angelic to watch. The way his hands moved, the way his hair swayed along with his movements, the way he flashed his perfect teeth with a smile.

You look at the bottom of the screen and saw the title, “Greta Van Fleet - Live at the Red Rocks Amphitheater”

You then clicked onto Google straight away and typed in the bands name. You looked at the images and saw him and his band mates, you gave a smile seeing him. He’s so pretty

Josh. Josh Kiszka is his name

You looked up his name onto Google now. You press ‘ enter ‘ and look at the thousands of pictures of him that laid before you.

Wow, this is the man I’ve been dreaming of. A man who I’ve never seen till today. He’s so fuckin beautiful

But why? Why am I dreaming of him?

You shut your computer needing to clear your head

2:30 pm

Read your phone

You stood up and got your coat so you could go for a walk to clear your mind

You closed the door behind you and heard the crunches beneath your feet from the leaves. You look around in awe at the sight of the beautiful fall day. It was just so pretty.

You continued to walk for a while until you felt like getting another coffee

“Ugh should I?” You say looking at your favorite coffee shop in front of you stopping you in your tracks. “Yeah I should”

You headed inside and ordered your per usual fall coffee order.

“For Y/N!”

I looked up from my phone and grabbed my coffee and said thank you before leaving the café.

I look down at my coffee in my hand while walking as I took a small sip closing my eyes

I felt a harsh bump on my shoulder. The hot coffee then splashed out of my cup and onto my hand. “Ow, shit” I say because of the coffee being hot.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry are you okay?-“

The man says before we both look at each other and immediately stare into each other’s eyes for what seemed like forever

It was him, Josh. The man who I’ve been dreaming of

Why was he looking at me like that? Like he knew me? Could he have been dreaming of me too?

He clears his throat and began to talk again, “Please let me buy you another coffee”

He says still staring into my eyes like he’s seen me before

Wow, he’s just as beautiful in person

I nod to his response and we both headed inside the coffee shop both getting our coffees. “Um, do you mind if we sit down together?” He says holding his coffee in his hand looking at me giving me warm eyes. I nod and we both sit down looking at each other once more.

“I’m sorry for staring-“ he starts

“-No I’m sorry as well” I say as my cheeks flush a deep red looking down.

“It’s just… This is gonna sound crazy but, I think I’ve been dreaming of you. And it’s odd because I’ve never seen you before til now.. That’s why I was staring at you, I just couldn’t believe it. Apologies if I made you feel uncomfortable” He says looking down at his coffee feeling embarrassed thinking you probably thought he was crazy.

Holy shit.. He was dreaming of me too

“I’m Jo-“ He starts but I finished for him, “Josh”

He looks up and stares at me giving me a warm smile now knowing I was dreaming of him too.

“Were you dreaming of me too?” He says now leaning a bit closer. I give a warm smile and nod. Josh let’s out a huff in relief, “Holy shit this is crazy” he whisper yells getting excited showing his perfect white teeth. I get excited along with him and chuckle.

“May I add that you’re just as beautiful in person then you were in my dreams?” He says looking up at me giving me a smile showing his dimples. I chuckle and start to blush, “You as well Josh” I add.

We both then began staring into each other’s eyes

RING RING RING

Josh’s gaze now drifts at his phone that was buzzing. “Ugh it’s my brother, hold on darling”

I blush again as I take another sip from my coffee trying to hide the redness that spread across my face.

“Okay okay” He says a bit annoyed on the phone. He then ends the call and looks at me. “That was my brother, he says he needs me now for some new album ideas”

He notices your face forms a bit of a frown, “Hey, this is crazy that this happened and I think both of us are still trying to process it haha but, I think you’re absolutely beautiful and I wanna get to know you even more” He says in awe at the sight of you.

He drops his phone on counter in front of you. “Put your number in darling” He says winking at you. You then started to type your number in the new contact, putting your name as well. Once you were done he takes his phone looking at what you put, “Y/N.. That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful person” He says smiling showing his dimples that were engraved into his cheeks. “I’ll text you and we can plan something soon!”

You nod and he headed out the door giving you a cheesy smile and a wave goodbye

Wow… The man of my dreams is absolutely adorable

You then chuckle at your thoughts and took another sip of your coffee

[iliveiloveiwrite]

A Truth Universally Acknowledged // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hi angel! I love all of your stories, especially your Bridgerton and work! Is there any way you could write something soft and fluffy for Anthony and a female reader! PLEASE AND THANK YOU - Anon.

A/N: I haven’t written for Anthony in what seems like forever! As much as I love Benedict, I do love writing Anthony fics. This isn't overly long, I just wanted to write something soft and fluffy that’s entirely domestic as well. I hope you all like! Title is a quote from the first line of Pride and Prejudice (further quotes from the book are in italics).

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: none - fluff, books, marriage, happy relationships, cute.

Word Count: 1.6k

The house is silent as Anthony strides through the waiting, open door. He nods his greeting to the Butler, Wilkins, before letting the weariness that had haunted him all day settle over his bones.

“Wilkins?” Anthony asks; no need to voice the question. Wilkins knows.

“Lady Bridgerton is in the Green-and-Gold, sir.”

Anthony smiles at the Butler. “You really do know everything.”

Wilkins smiles; nods his head. “It is my job, sir. Lady Bridgerton has already told me that you will take your final meal of the day in there, too.”

Anthony takes the stairs two at a time; refusing to accept his laboured breathing by the time he reaches the top. He was not an old man yet; he was still a very active man.

Turning left, he wanders blindly to the Green-and-Gold room named for the colour scheme of the walls and the furniture. His late grandmother had decorated the room; so fondly remembered by her ancestors that each refused to change a thing in the room save for any upholstering that needed to be done occasionally.

He finds you sitting on the left hand side of the room; the comfier side as argued by everyone who visits the room. Your legs are curled underneath you as your eyes pour over the page of an open book in your lap. From here, Anthony cannot possibly hazard a guess as to what you might be reading, but he feels a twinge of jealousy at the attention being paid to the book and not to him.

Well, love makes fools of us all, Anthony thinks to himself. “Darling,” Anthony greets in one single breath, as if the sight of you makes it all the easier for him to breathe.

“Darling,” You smile, standing from your seat, coming to greet the man you love with every fibre of your being. “How was your day?”

Anthony groans as he removes his jacket before tugging at the knot of his cravat. “Long,” He complains, struggling with the neckpiece. You smile at your husband, batting his hands away from his neck so you can take over. You feel the heat of his gaze as your hands work to do undo the knot he had tightened with a single tug; as the fabric unravels under your nimble fingers your husband reaches out to squeeze your waist.

“Thank you,” He whispers, voice full with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. Love? Weariness? A combination of both? Anthony looked ragged as you run your eyes over his face.

“I’m sorry that your day has been taxing, my love.”

“It’s all the better now that I’m here with you.”

“Flatterer,” You tease with no real heat behind your words. Anthony beams at you; eyes crinkling in the corners from the force of it as his hands tighten on your waist and his head dips to capture your lips in the kiss he has been thinking about for the better part of his day.

Breaking away, Anthony plants one, two, three kisses to your lips in quick, chaste succession leaving you breathless and highly amused. “How was your day?” He asks, curious as ever to find out what his wife does when he isn’t at home to distract you.

“Dull,” You answer plainly, enjoying the feel of Anthony’s strong arms around you.

“Dull?”

You purse your lips, thinking over your plans for the day so far. “I suppose dull doesn’t work. It hasn’t been dull at all.”

“Oh?”

“I’m only saying it because I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” He murmurs, kissing you once more. “What are you reading?” Anthony asks when he pulls away, spying the book laid delicately on the couch.

“Eloise let me borrow it. She gave me it when I called to see her this morning,” You answer, leaving the comfort of Anthony’s arms to take your seat on the couch.

“Darling, you know we have an entire library full of books, don’t you?”

Fixing him with an unimpressed look, you counter, “Your sister read this and thought of me. The least I could do is read it.”

“Alright,” Anthony sighs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “Budge up.”

“Pardon?”

Anthony gestures to the couch. “Make some room for me.”

A puzzled look settles across your face, but you follow the request, nonetheless, shifting on the couch so Anthony has room to sit down.

Anthony settles with his head on your lap; offering you a self-satisfied smile when you raise an eyebrow at him. “Comfy?” You ask, voice laced with humour.

“Very,” He responds. “Will you start from the beginning? I don’t want to miss anything.”

Chuntering about high maintenance husbands, you mark the page you got to before returning to the beginning. “Anything else before I begin?”

“Nothing… Oh, one thing.”

“That is?”

“I love you.”

Any previous ire you felt towards your husband disappears at those three magical words. The frustrated slant to your brow evens out as you reach out to stroke a hand through his hair and down the side of his face.

“I love you too,” You answer earnestly, feeling the power of the emotion running through you.

A peaceful look crosses Anthony’s face as your words sink into his skin like a balm on an open wound. He had felt neglectful lately; not spending as much time at home as he would have liked. He felt bad for leaving you so alone. Without children, you were your own companion throughout the day, and whilst you had both discussed having children, Anthony was to be left mildly vexed at the thought of you spending your days alone until a child was born.

The opening of parliament combined with Anthony’s seat in the House meant that he was spending more and more time in Westminster and less time with you.

A ratio Anthony was not fond of.

“I’m ready when you are,” He whispers; eyes focused on your face so he can watch every reaction and see every syllable leave your mouth.

Flashing an annoyed look at your husband, you take a deep breath and begin:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

“What?” Anthony asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hush,” You admonish half-heartedly before continuing.

“However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.”

“This author is a genius,” Anthony exclaims, his voice awed as he tries to catch a glimpse of the cover to see the author’s name. “Who wrote this?”

“Are you going to comment the whole way through? I’ve barely read two paragraphs.”

“Sorry, darling, but I have to know. Who wrote this?”

“Her name is Jane Austen.”

“Well Jane Austen is a genius. In two paragraphs she’s captured what it is like to be a single man with a fortune in and amongst the sharks with unattached daughters.”

“Sharks?” You ask, highly amused at your husband’s words.

“Mothers,” Anthony shudders, remembering what it was like to go through so many seasons still unmarried. A Viscount with two seats of power combined with a hefty ancestral fortune – many mothers didn’t care whether Anthony would love their daughters; they simply wanted a fortuitus marriage that would leave them set for life.

Anthony thanks any and all gods and deities out there that he found his love match in you. You had taken him by surprise; Anthony had already resigned himself to a season with countless mothers forcing their daughters onto his arm. Until one evening early into the season, he had been listening to Gregory whine about the workload at Eton when his eyes met yours from across the room. In a total state of cliché, Anthony met your gaze, and he knew. He knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you, worshipping you. He knew that whatever his future held, you would be right there weathering it alongside him. In a single glance from across the room, he knew.

You were married before the season finished; a special licence dispensed after a favour from the Archbishop called in. Anthony couldn’t wait; didn’t want to wait – he wanted to start the rest of his life with you as soon as possible.

Your light laughter breaks Anthony out of his reverie. “They aren’t all that bad,” You argue. “I suspect you’ll be worse than me when it comes to our children.”

Anthony snorts; doubting your words but loving the way you speak so openly about your hopeful future family. Clearing your throat, you continue to read on.

Anthony settles further into your lap; letting the calmness of your voice wash over him. After a moment of watching the concentration on your face, Anthony lets his eyes slip closed. He has no intention of falling asleep; he simply wants to enjoy this moment to its fullest.

“Mr Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features…”

A snore interrupts your rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Pausing mid-sentence, you look down to your lap where Anthony has fallen asleep so peacefully. Smiling softly at the man, you close the book, placing it to one side before running a hand through Anthony’s ever-unruly hair. He hums contentedly, pushing his head further into your hand as you begin to scratch at his scalp.

As you watch Anthony doze dreamily, you feel your eyes lose the fight against the growing tiredness. Your hand stills in Anthony’s hair as you fall asleep alongside your husband, utterly content at the path your life has taken considering it led you to him.

*****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​

[varietaltiger23]

okayy hear me out, your writing is so wholesomeee. i’ve scrolled through everything and im wondering can i get sth for myself too 😭

chifuyu has a boyfriend and he’s damn tall, almost as tall as draken, but he looks thin, kinda pale, and so squishy (people want to pinch his cheeks 😫), like a big puppy ya know. everyone is teasing the shit out of chifuyu saying he’s the bottom (ofc he’s not 😈) and reader said nothing ‘bout that, even dared to chuckled at him (it pissed him off 🌝). poor chifuyu got all flustered, uhm so, he wanted to teach his baby boy a lesson about attitudeee. reader kneeling in front of him and taking his cock so well i-

feel like he’s gonna be the softest dom ever too.

also, you are doing great! please keep going. i feel so miraculous that i found your blog. thank you! 💗

I'm hearing but the fluff has honestly hurt my heart, I can't handle the little fluff smut I wrote cause it's just loving.

This has/contains : deep throating, bit of cock warming, prepping, honestly a but fluffy cause of how loving chifuyu is, I can be freak nasty but the moment I see fluff or write it I'm blushing and squirming like a middle schooler seeing their crush.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Laughing, that's what chifuyu's closest friends were doing. Laughing about how he said he was the top.

Cause how could someone so short take you on. You're almost the same height as draken with only an inch separate and not only were you laughing oh no ,no, no you were making jokes about how high pitched chifuyu voice goes. In chifuyu defense you were just begging to get punishment and a nice reminder who tops who in the sheets and how to act in the streets.

That's why you're on your knees cock warming chifuyu as he watches with a blank stare. You had been still since you reached his base in hopes it would lighten his mood.

Guess it didn't since when you tried to start bobbing your head, he snapped at you to stay still and hold him in your mouth. Every part of your body ached from being in the same position for an hour.

"You enjoy making a joke outta me, bet everyone would be suprised to see you taking my dick with a trembling body." Chifuyu said as he grabbed his phone off of his bed and started scrolling through it.

So this was your punishment, cock warming him while he acts like you don't exist. The thought of using your tongue to caress the underlie of his dick seemed more and more arousing but what would the punishment evolve into.

Shit your dick hurt, maybe a small rut wouldn't hurt. Besides chifuyu was just having a fit so he can shove it. With the last thought you shove your lower body onto chifuyu foot and started rutting against his right leg while beginning to bob your head to give him some pleasure.

"You really think that's gonna help, if you stop rutting and put your back into it and I might fuck you" chifuyu said as he pushed your knees apart and pulled his legs away so you could rest in between his thighs.

With the promise of getting fucked, you start going faster allowing chifuyu to hear every gag and wet sound. Slowly trailing both hands up chifuyu with one resting and the other sneaking to massage his balls. The quicker chifuyu came then the quicker he would finally fuck you.

"Shit, shit, shit you better not think of even stopping if you don't want me to tie your ass up and leave you. " chifuyu warned as he thrusted up while letting a hand hover behind your head ready to hold you down when he cums.

Deciding now would be the perfect to start putting your tongue to work and letting it massage the underside until chifuyu finally brought his hand down. The grip of his hand would probably leave a little mark but that was the least of your worries after all now you had to swallow and focus on your surroundings.

Chifuyu watched intensely every gulp you made, even during punishments you're still so good. Always making sure he gets pleasure even when you're focused with your needs for a minute, you always think of him.

Chifuyu gently pulled you off his dick while caressing your face. And smiling as he watched you lean on him.

"You did so good, the best baby I could ever ask for. Now hop on the bed so I can get you prepped, just let on your back and I'll take care of everything else." Chifuyu whispered softly while helping you onto the bed by first picking you up and laying you down then left kisses everywhere he could reach while moving to rest between your legs.

Leading a trail of kisses from your ankle all the way down to your pelvis. Chifuyu gave one last look up and waited till you nodded to move his mouth so he could start prepping you. He started out with small licks and sucking until he decided he lubed the outside enough to start pushing his tongue inside.

"Need more fuyu, I can take it." Was the words he heard before he felt your legs move behind his arms to try and encourage him.

With confirmation from you, chifuyu started fucking you with his tongue and slipped his pointer and ring finger in while moving them in a scissor movement. You might hate how slow he's going but he rather have you stretched beyond hell thank to hurt his baby

Maybe he should just stay layed down here for a minute. It was nice, comfy, and he could feel every shudder and whine. He loved when he would feel the racking shudder letting him know he hit your prostate dead on but he would save those thoughts for maybe a round two. He still needed to fuck a good adittude into you after all.

You watched with anticipation as chifuyu pushed himself upward and jerkes himself a bit while he gazed down, watching every twitch and hip rolling.

Pushing on your stomach softly to still you while he slowly pushed in and stopping everytime you tried to push your hips towards him.

"Just relax baby, ill take care of everything. You did your part now I'm gonna do mine." Chifuyu said as he bottomed out and started a slow but deep pace.

Tonight would be a long one but at least you could remember every gentle touch and loving word.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Eunoia - Harry Styles

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!

pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.

Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.

He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.

It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.

As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.

By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.

Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.

As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.

She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.

Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.

An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.

“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.

Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.

“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.

“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.

“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.

That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.

“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.

“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.

“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.

“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.

“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.

“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.

“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.

“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”

“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.

“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.

“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.

“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”

Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.

Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.

“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”

Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.

“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.

“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.

“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”

“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.

“That’s not needed at all.”

They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.

“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.

“Of course.”

“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”

“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.

“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”

“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”

Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.

Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.

“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.

“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.

“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”

She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.

“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.

He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.

When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.

“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”

Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.

Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.

Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.

As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.

A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.

“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.

“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.

“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”

“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.

“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.

“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.

“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.

“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.

Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.

It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.

“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.

“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”

“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”

“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.

“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”

“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.

“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“The Aztecs?”

“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.

“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.

“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”

“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.

“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.

“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.

“Like what?”

“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”

“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”

Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.

“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.

“I don’t.”

“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”

“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.

“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.

They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.

Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.

His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.

Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.

“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.

“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.

“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.

“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.

“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.

Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.

He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.

As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.

“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.

“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”

“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.

“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.

“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.

Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.

“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!

She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.

“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.

“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.

“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.

“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.

“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.

“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”

“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.

Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.

“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.

“I just… love how you said when and not if.”

“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”

“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”

“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”

“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.

“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.

Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.

This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.

Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.

He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.

Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.

The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.

Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.

“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.

“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.

“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”

The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.

“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.

“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.

“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”

“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”

“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.

“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.

“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”

“You said you have some tests to go through.”

“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”

“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.

“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.

“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.

“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.

“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.

“Yes, Lilian?”

“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.

“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”

The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.

“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.

“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.

Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.

“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.

“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.

Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.

“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.

“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”

“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.

“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.

“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.

“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.

They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.

When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.

He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.

As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.

“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.

“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.

The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.

Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.

“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.

“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”

“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”

“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.

“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”

“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.

“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.

“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.

“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.

“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.

“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”

“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”

“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.

“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.

“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.

“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.

“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.

“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.

“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?

“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.

“I just asked,” he mutters.

“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.

So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.

“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.

“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.

-

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[the-cult-of-russo]

Biggest Regret

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader 

A/N: This one wasn't a request. I have Billy on the brain so much that I literally woke up and this popped into my head as I was laying there trying to fully wake up and I had to write it lmao It's just a little thing. A letter from Billy to you. I know a lot of you guys might want a part two for it, the resolution to the letter and there's a few ways it could go. So if anyone asks for a part two, let me know how you want it. Angsty? Fluffy? A mix? And I'll see what the general consensus is. I already have a slight idea about it but I wanna know what you guys want. 

Also this is my AU dreamland where Billy didn’t betray Frank looool

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness and regret from Billy. Talks of pregnancy and babies and abandonment.

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Y/N,

I know it's been a while and I don't even know if you still live where you did back then or if you'll get this. I'd say some shit like I hope you're doing well, which I am, but… I know you won't want to hear it. 

I'm overseas again right now with Anvil. Me and Frank are taking point on a serious mission we're doing. Anvil's doing pretty well right now and we just got a contract from the CIA which is how we ended up here. Being out here like this, it reminds me of being deployed. Part of me missed it, I guess.

It's given me a lot to think about. It's funny how life and death situations do that to you, puts it all in perspective. And I know… I know you probably hate me and I don't blame you but I just hope if you do get this letter that you at least read it all. 

I never should have walked away last year. I used to think I was a brave man, I mean the shit I've faced in the marines and with Anvil… I never backed down and I always fought. But with this. With you and the baby, I tucked tail and ran and I'll never forgive myself for that. 

Honestly, I was terrified. I didn't think I could be the man you and the baby needed. I don't know what it's like to have loving parents and I hate myself so much for walking away. I don't want to do to my own kid what my mom did to me. I don't want them to grow up thinking I don't care, that I don't want them. It was never about that. I was never angry you were pregnant, I was never resentful. I was just scared that I'd fuck it up beyond repair so I got out of there before I had the chance. 

I should have been there for you, Y/N. I should have been there to hold your hair from your face when you got sick. To go out at 3am and get you pickles or whatever the fuck it is that pregnant women love to eat. I should have been there with you at the birthing classes and the scans and the appointments. I should have been there to hold your hand in the delivery room, to tell you what an amazing job it is you're doing. I should have been there to hold my kid when they came into the world. To be there for you and them. 

I can't take that back. I can't rewind time and be there and I wish I could. I don't know anything about my own baby which hurts the shit outta me and it's my own fault. I don't know if they're a boy or girl, how old they are. I know they'll roughly be a few months old based on when I walked away but that's about it. Do they look more like me or you? Are they a happy or fussy baby? This is the shit that's been running through my head out here. Fuck… I don't know if…. I don't even know if you kept the baby and that shit hurts too deep to even consider. But I know you well enough. Or at least I think I do. And I don't think you would have done that. As much as it would kill me inside, if you did I wouldn't blame you. I'd left you all alone to deal with it and I know neither of us planned a kid. 

Frankie was the one who told me to write this. He's been putting up with me nonstop the last month of us being out here crying  talking about you and the baby. He and Maria miss you, the kids too. Maybe that alone should have told me back then how important you were to me. I'd never introduced any of the girls I slept with to them, but it just felt natural to me back then. I'd wanted to. I couldn't even see just how much you meant to me. 

It's like they always say, you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone. And I didn't know just how much I cared about you until that day I walked away and I fucking miss you, Y/N. Frank and Maria always ask if I'd heard anything about the baby or if I've reached out and it breaks my heart every time with how disappointed they are. I guess I never really thought they'd be excited for me to have a kid. But they're my family, of course they would be. 

Frank roughed me up, you know that? I didn't tell him right away about the baby. He'd ask about you and I told him we decided it wasn't working like the coward I am. But then a few weeks after I told him the truth. He clocked me in the jaw, yanked me around as he yelled about how stupid and selfish I was. And I let him. He was right and I deserved it. I don't think I've ever seen Frankie so mad before and that's saying something. 

I know I should have reached out sooner, but being out here on the front lines like this, it reminds me of how fleeting life can be. And I wish it didn't take something extreme like that to give me the balls to man up and write this to you but I think we've all established I'm not as brave as I once thought I was. 

I have no right asking you for anything, I know that. But I miss you and I want to be a part of our baby's life. And you can ignore this letter or tell me to go fuck myself and I'll listen. If you tell me to stay away, I will. I owe you that much. But I'd… even if you could tell me about them a little, it would mean the world everything to me. And I know I don't deserve shit but I'm selfish and asking you anyway. 

I've seen and done a lot of shit in my life and your face has haunted me every single night since the day I walked away. I saw how scared you were. You were just as terrified as me about the baby and I wasn't there for you. I didn't comfort you or reassure you that we'd get through it together. Instead I shut down and told you I couldn't do it, I wouldn't do it. And then you looked at me with such heartbreak that it makes my chest feel tight and I fucking hate it. Every time I close my eyes I remember those looks and I know I'm a piece of shit for ever putting them on your face. 

It hurts more that you just accepted it. Like you expected it from me. I guess you knew me well enough to have an idea how it would go when you told me. And then you fucking respected my wishes and didn't contact me about anything. You didn't owe me that. You should have harassed me, called me a piece of shit, fought me, got child support. Fucking something. But of course you didn't. You've always been too kind and caring for that. Always looked after me even when I least deserve it. 

And I guess I'm hoping that even through the hate and betrayal you feel for me, that maybe somewhere in there you still care even just a little. Enough to put me out of my misery. Enough to send even a letter with the bare minimum details about our kid. I'm hoping that I didn't change you because you were perfect as you were and the last thing I want is to have fucked you up because of my own insecurities. 

There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think of you. Think of the baby. I wonder how you're both doing and if you're happy. I know you'd be a great mom and despite it all, I'm glad that if I had a kid with anyone that it was you. I'm coming back stateside in three weeks. It's gonna kill me not knowing if you've wrote back or not but I won't hold it against you if you don't. 

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you. For making you go through all this alone. For walking away from you and the baby like I did. If I was there I'd be down on my knees begging for forgiveness for what I did. All I can hope is that you take some mercy on me, even just a little. 

I miss you, Y,N. I miss you so much it hurts and I'm just sorry. Whatever you decide, I'll understand and respect it. I love you. And yeah I probably shouldn't say that, might feel like a smack in the face after everything I've done, but I do. And I know I never told you that when we were together. We were never really 'serious' or whatever, or at least that's what I told myself. But it was only ever you. When I was with you there were no others. And I couldn't see it at the time but I'd fell in love with you the moment we met in that damn grocery store. I don't know if you ever felt the same about me but I know even if you did I've ruined that. I don't expect anything from you. I fucked up and I know that. But it doesn't change that I want to be there now. I want to know about our baby, I want to be part of their life. I want them to grow up knowing I care about them because I do.

I hope to hear from you when I'm back but I won't hold my breath. I hope… I hope you're both doing okay and I'm just sorry for everything. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me.

Billy 

[kusagrasskusa]

Fell! Sans X Reader - "Boss is gonna kill me-"

Here at the Hamilcult, we support fluff fanfics in cringy fandoms that likely implement OOC cannon characters. That was sarcasm but even so, just know that this might be sorta OOC and this is fluff :3

Also, prepare for a Wattpad level written story and a shitty plot. I just got done writing a 7000 worded fanfic and frankly, I need a b r e a k.

Forgive me for I have sinned writing this

~~~~~~~

Y/N yawned, rubbing her tired eyes before laying back on her chair. She sunk deep into her warm coat, the fluffy fur on the hood making her feel more relaxed. The coat was oversized black and red with big pockets, perfect for a human in a place like Snowdin. After all, at the post near the conveniently shaped lamp, Y/N was waiting in the blistering cold. Well, the scenery looked peaceful but it definitely was snowing and the air was terribly cold. The fur on the coat rubbed against her face, making her cheeks turn red from the contrast heat of it and the cold air.

She whined and pulled the coat over her head when a few snowflakes touched her face. "Cold," she mumbled tiredly. Y/N flipped her body to the side and whined again. This time, the problem was how uncomfortable her position was. So she tossed over to the other direction and laid her head against the chair. "...the chair is uncomfortable," she tiredly whined.

"If it's that bad then just fucking leave," a rough, annoyed voice spoke. It was Sans, the slightly taller skeleton with a red sweater on and without his coat. "I want my coat back anyway. You're getting ya' human scent in it and I don't want that kinda trouble," he continued. Y/N huffed and sat up straight. She was around his size to sat the least, but a bit thinner and shorter.

"But I thought you wanted me out here," she retorted. "You clearly get lonely here after a while so I wanted to stay with you."

"Yeah, well stayin' with me hasn't brought more customers, has it?" He replied, turning his head towards the younger girl. His red eyes seethe into her soul basically, but Y/N just giggled at his serious expression. The hood covered half her face so her eyes were widen, which they usually were. It's strange because even without the hoodie, something is always covering her eyes whether it's her hair or not. And without a barber in Snowdin and hundreds of people who want to murder her for being human, Y/N hair is bound to grow out anyway.

"You're so funny sometimes Sans," she complimented with a sweet smile on her face. "You have such a cute look when you're mad...well actually, I don't think I've ever seen you not mad before. I wonder what a genuine smile would look like..." she mumbled sleepily. Sans felt his cheeks light up a bit so he turned away from her, rolling his eyes. He wasn't used to such words at all.

"Huh?–" Sans jumped as he felt the girl's arms wrap around his body softly. She had slipped her arms out of the coat for Sans to out his arms in.

"Put the coat back on. It's big enough for me to fit back here," she giggled quietly as she rested her head on Sans's shoulder. Sans felt his fa e turn red and his body tense; he growled and turn his head towards her.

"I gave the damn thing to you, so wear it properly !"

"But you're cold and you're coat can fit us both."

"I don't care!" Sans hissed back, making Y/N giggled. The two friends often had times like this; wholesome and adorable with Sans getting all flustered. Sans barely even saw her a friend as he promised he would never let anyone get too close to him so he doesn't turn soft. But Y/N's persistent and sweet personality really struck him hard. Of course, he wouldn't go as far as to crush on her, right? No, their just good friends...

Y/N' cheeks puffed out and she pouted her lip like an upset toddler. "Sans, please? Just this once?" She asked as she squeezed him into a tighter hug. Sans scoffed and shook his head.

"No! What am I, some pueny pawn? I will not sink that fucking low," Sans seethed. Y/N was silent for a few moments before simply letting go of her tight grip and going lip against Sans's back. She head remained on his shoulder and luckily his sweater cushioned the feel of his bones, making this a comfortable position.

"I like this much better," she said tiredly with a warm smile on her face. Sans was sitting on a rather large chair that he got in order to find better sleeping situations without sliding off it, but because he was sitting on the edge of the chair, Y/N could easily slide behind him. She sat on her knees that were either side of him and yet it was so comfortable for her. "You're more comfortable than a chair." Her voice got lower and softer each time he spoke but it didn't lose its sweetness once.

"Yeah, well I ain't no damn pillow Y/N. Get the hell off me... Hello?" He asked when he didn't get a response. He turned his head to face the girl and saw her completely emersed into the dream world. It's true that he couldn't see her eyes, but he still could tell. He sighed heavily and turned his head in front of him.

"Huh‐ Ah!-" Y/N shrieked as she was pushed into the freezing snow.

"Ahahaha!" Sans laughed hard as he watched Y/N freak out. "I told you I wasn't no damn pillow!" He laughed as he put his hands on his knees. Y/N whined she stood straight up and glared at him. She walked over to him with a pout on her lip and lightly punched his arm.

"Hmph!" Sans chuckled at her adorable attempt at being angry and bopper her nose rough enough to push her away a bit.

"Was that supposed to make me feel bad, human? Well lemme tell ya', that just won't do," Sans spoke as his smile grew cockier.

"I wasn't even trying to hurt you, so don't start that," Y/N retorted. Sans rolled his eyes while he kept up his cocky smile. He shrugged and pu

"Yeah, sure. You fists are as strong as a fly's. You couldn't hurt me, even if you tried," he pushed. Y/N hmphed and shook her head. She pulled her arm back and punched him right in the shoulder as hard as her tired arm could. Sans just snickered and didn't even flinch.

"Wait, was that the best you got? I heard you humans are supposed to be strong." Sans shrugged his shoulders before pulling his hands out of his pockets and stretching. "Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter all that much. If you ever did decide to attack me, it's not like you'd live long enough to be able to lay a hit on me. And anyone else down here would have no problem given all they got to some little girl."

"I'm 20."

"Doesn't matter," Sans said as he put his hands back in his pockets. Y/N sighed and shook her head.

"You know I wouldn't hurt anyone down here as much as I know you wouldn't hurt me, Sans," her soft replied. To be honest, his name being spoken so sweetly had a good ring to Sans' ears.

"Yeah, well you can't blame me for being cautious. You humans put us down here, remember? You humans murdered so many monsters for no fucking reason then trapped the rest of us down here with your strong souls as aid. Then a few fallen human children came down here and either murdered a little, a large portion, or one of us. Still, you humans seem to be naturally turned to a genocide even though you have fucking everything you can possibly want on the surface. Us monsters have nothing, not even a real sun or moon, to make us happy, so our rage is justified." Sans finished his train of thought with a scowl; he turned his head towards the snow building up on the ground and glared at it. Y/N frowned, holding her arms to her chest.

"...Hey, Sans. It stopped snowing, so we don't have to worry about a blizzard keeping us from going to Grillby's," Y/N said as she looked out of the post, finally noticing the snow had stopped falling.

"Why would I worry about a blizzard? I got a shortcut that'll get us there in no time," he smirked and looked up at her. Y/N cocked her head questioning, humming. "Just follow me, aight," he spoke as he walked behind the post. Y/N caught up with him in no time while holding the sides of the coat close to together instead of zipping it. The sleeves just hung by her sides as she still wanted Sans to wear the coat with her cuddling up behind him, mostly because she could still use the hoode that way.

As they walked up to a tree, suddenly, Sans chuckled. The next moment, they were at the doorway of Grillby's and the absorbed by heat and warm light. Y/N looked around her frantically and confused, "how did you do that?"

"Ya humans got strong souls, us monsters have magic," he explained with a cocky smile. "Now let's go sit down at the bar instead of the booth this time. That drunk bunny annoys the shit outta me," he mumbled the last part as he walked over to the bar with Y/N following.

As she passed the dogs, one of them called out, "wait, is that a human? Isn't that the one we fought before?" It was Dogamy who spoke out, then causing her husband to talk back.

"I think so, yes, the one that turned into a puppy that liked to pet other dogs!"

Y/N giggled tiredly as she sat down at the bar besides Sans, listening on their conversation a few seconds longer before returning her focus to Sans alone. "I want a burger," she mumbled.

"Aight," Sans replied. He signaled for Grillby to walk over after he finished making a drink for another customer. The being of purple fire had what looked like a jagged white frown for a mouth, and he wore a skintight black vest with a white undershirt with rolled up sleeves and black jeans as his attire. He vest was also low cut, so an outline of his chest was visible. Although he had a serious tone, he definitely seemed like he could flirt successfully to any person he wanted.

"What," Grillby's echoy voice rung. The purple fire that made up his body flickered and cracked, making Y/N smile from the satisfying sound.

"Two burgers, put it on my tab," Sans replied, leaning on the counter with a mustard bottle in his hand. Grillby wrote down his order and walked towards the kitchen door with a "fire onlt" sign on it. He walked inside the kitchen and came out with a drink; it was F/D, something Y/N typically ordered when she came to the bar. He set the drink down in front of her.

"On the house," Grillby spoke. Y/N smiled softly at him, thanking him. "Tch," he responded before tending to other costumers. Grillby didn't really like Y/N, but he appreciated the little work and silence she brought him. She only spoke when spoken to, and she didn't order things that were hella hard to make and then complain about it. Sans growled, rolling his eyes.

"Fucking simp," he hissed. Y/N tilted her head, humming.

"Hmm? Why?" Y/N asked before taking a sip if her drink.

"He's losin' money by given out free drinks. And of anyone, to you."

"Well," Y/N smirked sweetly. "I come here a lot and that attracts monsters who want to see the human. So by being tourist attraction, he makes more money," she explained. Sans scoffed, his cheeks reddening.

"Whatever." Aww, our bebe skeleboi is jealous of the big, tall, muscular fire dude! Y/N giggled, patting him on the shoulder.

"I really appreciate you bringing me here with you. When you decide to pay your tab, remind me to contribute enough money to help." Sans shrugged, smirking.

"People like you are too nice down here, really."

"It feels nice to help someone."

"It's not so nice when people try to kill you over it," Sans retorted. Y/N frowned, nodding.

"I guess I didn't grow up down here so there isn't much for me to say, but I can't help but think everyone down here is kind but hurt. I mean, there's a lot about you I noticed that aren't so...pleasant, but you managed to treat me like a person with emotions and opinions. I doubt that of hundreds, you're the only one down here like that," she explained. Sans sighed again, rubbing his eyes.

"Like I said, people like you are too nice down here." Sans finished the conversation this way and then came a long moment of silence. In that time, Grillby came over with two plates with burgers on them. He set them in front of the two.

"Here."

"Thank you, Grillby," Y/N thanked with a warm smile on her face. Grillby silently nodded at her before walking away. She grabbed the ketchup and poured some on her burger, whereas Sans barely acknowledged what was happening around him. He was getting caught up in his thoughts right now, a bit overwhelmed with them actually. Finally, he stood up and walked away from the bar, heading out the front door. Y/N hummed and took a bite of her burger, watching Sans leave.

She set her food down and ran after him, leaving the restaurant right when he did. "Is everything alright?" She asked worriedly, making Sans scowl.

"God, y'know, you gotta stop assuming something's wrong. I'm fine. And either way, I wouldn't tell you some edgy shit no one cares about," Sans replied. Y/N was silent at first, then she took off the coat she still had on. Her hair brushed over her eyes as she did that, making them impossible to see. She put the hood on top of Sans' head before wrapping her arms together coldly. "Why do you're eyes always do that?"

"Do what?" She asked.

"If they ain't covered by a hood, it's covered by your hair. If not your hair, someone's or something's blocking your face. If it's not that, then you're head it turned away from view. It's weird," Sans explained. Y/N hummed, not noticing that until now.

"Well... Do you want to see my eyes?" She asked as she brought her hands up. She was wearing one of Sans's red shirts, which sorta made this moment more cliche but who cares. Sans slowly nodded, curious. Then Y/N pushed her hair out of her face, revealing her normal looking E/C eyes. Well, aside from the kindness and care that laid within them. And it was that feature that hit Sans first.

"Woah," he mumbled, tuning his full body towards her. "That's beautiful!" Y/N giggled, making Sans' face redden. He opened his mouth to form a quick insult to her in order to make him seem like he didn't mean it, but Y/N spoke first.

"Thank you. Your eyes are very pretty as well. It has a nice color to it, too," she replied softly. Sans huffed silently, looking to the side.

"I, uh...thanks," he mumbled as he put his hand in his pockets. He sighed and put coat on right, burying his face in the hood fur. It was obvious that he was pretty flustered right now and reddened, as he did truly feel his chest warm when he was around Y/N. It was strange for him to feel this way so he typically pushed his feelings away and told himself that he was just her guardian per say. But he knew deep down in his heart it wasn't true.

"Look, I got something to say to you," Sans pushed more harshly then intended. "And I don't wanna hear any of this being told or heard by other monsters, got it? This is us and us alone, ya understand? This shit is hard to say, so..." he drifted off. The snow was started to pick up again, making the scene look more aesthetic.

Y/N nodded, listening to him closely when began talking. "This shit isn't said very often down here; no, it's not said at all actually. But you're human, and you have a different heart so..." he trailed off again, scratching the back of his head. He looked Y/N in the eyes and gave her a flustered glare like if he was embarrassed, which she took no offense to. "I don't just give anyone the right to take my coat, waste my time, bother me, stop me from sleeping, and more. It's just you and Boss, and even he has less power than you."

He continued after a deep breath. "And its not because you're human or I pity you. In fact, I couldn't care less if you're soul is strong, since I could still break it; I couldn't care less if you fell down here, since we're trapped down here too. I let you do because... it's like a bandaid, just gotta say it... I care about you. Not even like a sister or close friend, no, I mean if you were about to be shot, I would jump in front of bullet so you could liev put your life happily. I love you."

Y/N was silent, sorta just staring. Her whole body was shook, frozen, and in shock. She didn't even know what she just heard or if she was dreaming. She even forgot that she was freezing due to being too caught up in her feelings. Sans stood there silently for about 10 seconds as well, before he face-palmed and grew red jn embarrassment. That's when a tear escaped the corner of Y/N's eye and a large smile grew on her features.

"Sans," she replied sweetly as she walked over to him. She fell forwards on him and wrapped her arms around the inside of the coat, around his sweater. The embraced him tightly and said, "I love you too!" Sans felt his heart move a little and a new feeling wash over him. Without being able to control it, he felt a genuine smile grow on his face as he hugged her back tightly.

"I'm so...glad," he breathed out heavily, his nerves relaxing. The two stayed in that position for a while before eventually breaking off. Y/N pecked him on the cheek before grabbing his hand.

"We should go back inside, hehe. The food'll get cold," she said as she motioned to the door. Sans nodded nervously, chuckling.

"Yeah, and Grillby will be pissed if we wasted food. I don't wanna deal with that again." The two fo them walked inside the restaurant/bar, they started their way back to the bar. Yet when they got in, the bar was silent. I mean, the restaurant was pitch silent; not only that, but many eyes were on them as they walked in. Y/N completely ignored their exists' and sat down on the barstool, picked up her burger and ate it. Luckily was still warm. Sans on the other hand was hella nervous. No, he was fucking terrified.

Grillby walked over to the two and leaned forward, so than when he whispered, only they could hear. "The bunny chick saw you two hug and kiss. Just play it cool, and they'll forget all about it in a few days." Well shit, Sans thought. Boss is gonna kill me when he finds out.

Y/N just ate her burger in peace, not really caring if other people knew about them. After all, it's their choice to laugh about like a boy kindergartener complaining about holding hands with a girl because it means their "dating," or to hear about it and mind their own business.

[andypantsx3]

say the word and you know i’ll follow

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 3,262 words

summary: While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

(A smutty oneshot sequel to my fic if i could keep cool.)

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, smut

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, cunnilingus, light bondage

notes: Also cross-posted on my AO3! The manga really has me all in my Todo feels rn but I don't wanna write a whole other fic before I finish the Hawks one, so please have this fluffy smutty one shot as a compromise. It likely won’t make sense unless you’ve read if i could keep cool first, so please check it out if you have the time!

It was sweltering when you stepped outside to make your way to Shouto’s apartment.

A thin film of sweat immediately began to build wherever your skin pressed against the box you carried, and the sun beat down furiously on the crown of your head. You instantly started to second guess your choice to take the train, wondering how dumb of a move it had been to decline an alternative means of transit. It was going to be like being packed into a sardine can and roasted over a hot stove.

Shouto had offered to send an agency car, but there were only so many more times you were going to make the trip from your crumbling student apartment to his place, and you had wanted to make the most of it. You didn’t even really need to bring boxes over just yet--as Shouto had hired a moving company to take care of everything next week--but you didn’t want to lose anything that was inside this one. This one held all your most treasured items--keepsakes from your friends, a pressed white tulip, and all the gifts Shouto had ever given you (minus, of course, the vegetables).

Steeling yourself for an uncomfortable twenty minutes, you set off towards the station, weaving through the tired crowds of people who looked just as sun-weary as you. Thankfully, with a hat over your face and a box you could shift to obscure your features, very few people seemed to recognize you as you did so.

A lot of the media attention surrounding your mishap a year ago had died down, and you had been good about keeping your relationship mostly private, so you weren’t exactly a household name to most people. But there were enough twitter-savvy teens and meme-literate college students that you were sometimes recognized as you went about your daily life.

This time, you were only eyed curiously by one pair of teenage girls as they bundled into the train car across from you, but they didn’t say anything to you, didn’t ask you to reenact the most embarrassing five seconds of your entire life into their phones, as many often did. The box hid you from the rest of the train car, and no one else seemed to take interest in your presence.

After exiting the train at downtown, you made it to Shouto’s building in record time, all but rocket-fueled by your desire to get out of the hot sun. The security team in the lobby of his building gave you friendly nods as you passed, one of them graciously pressing the button for the elevator so you didn’t have to fumble around your box.

You thanked her, making your way into the elevator and elbowing the button for Shouto’s floor. The elevator was even cooler than the lobby, and you shivered in delight as the frigid chill of air conditioning washed over you. God, this building was so fucking nice compared to yours. You were going to be spoiled as fuck once you lived here.

You made it to Shouto’s floor without incident, though digging in your bag for your keys was impossible at the moment, so you knocked on his door as firmly as you could manage with the box still balanced in your arms.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then, the door swung open and Shouto stood there, grinning at you.

His hair still looked a little damp from a recent shower, and he was wearing a dark button up over a soft tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He looked unbearably good, as boyishly handsome as ever, and your heart gave an embarrassing little stutter, like it always did whenever you saw him. You suspected it was always going to be like that, no matter how long the two of you had been dating.

Shouto’s eyebrows went up as he considered the box in your arms. That heterochromatic gaze picked over you curiously, expression going carefully blank, like it typically did when he was up to some mischief. And then, after a long moment, he spoke.

“You’re not wearing the scarf,” he said, sounding upset.

You stared up at him, feeling your brow wrinkle. The scarf? It was fucking summer, and the scarf was neatly tucked away in the box you were holding. It was literally boiling hot just outside the well-air conditioned hallways of his building. Why on earth did he think you would be wearing--

You inhaled a little sharply when the answer hit you.

The scarf.

The scarf was the first thing he had mentioned the day he had finally confessed to you. Well, after you had confessed first, really, on national television earlier that week, that you were thirsty as hell for him and were also really bad at picking up subtle clues. Or overt clues. Or any clues, honestly.

But now you were standing in his hallway with a box again, and he was clearly remembering what had happened the last time you had done so.

You wracked your brain for what you had said to him in reply that day, trying to hone in on the words past the sudden swell of embarrassment.

“Uh, it’s in here,” you finally replied, gesturing to the box.

That grey and blue gaze dropped to the parcel in your arms, then flickered up to your face. You pushed the box at him, the way you had the day he’d confessed, feeling just as squirmish as you had then.

What else had you said to him? Something very watery and over dramatic, likely. Something like...

“It’s all, um, there--if you wanted to check,” you said. “Except for the vegetables obviously. But I can pay you back, if you give me a couple months.”

Shouto was clearly suppressing a smirk as he feigned curiosity. “Pay me….what?”

You suppressed your own absurd laugh, wondering how far down mortifying memory lane he wanted to go.

“I also wrote down a recommendation for a new cleaning lady, if you want,” you said, patting the top of the box. “It’s in there. Her name’s Mika, she’s super nice. And I can message you or your manager when I have the money. Just let me know which one you’d prefer. Or I can have Mika drop it off.”

Shouto gripped the box, then, long, elegant fingers pulling back the flaps for him to peer inside. He looked absolutely delighted to find the scarf actually within. In one fluid movement, he pulled the scarf out, depositing the box behind him, and turned back to grab your sleeve, pulling you quickly into the apartment with him.

“Okay, what are you doing with the scarf this time?” you laughed, breaking character.

One white eyebrow went up as Shouto gripped your wrist firmly, eyeing you closely as he pulled off your baseball cap.

“Mm,” he hummed absently in his deep tone. “Something I should have done the first time.” He caught your other wrist, pressing it into the sinfully soft fabric of your favorite accessory.

You looked at him, bewildered, feeling your mouth twist into a slight frown. You rather liked the way things had gone the first time around, considering that you had ended up with a boyfriend at the end of it all. What was his bone to pick with the first time around?

“Uh, if I’m recalling correctly, the first time went great,” you said to him. “Like, really really great. Christening your countertops several different times great.”

There was a flash of white teeth as Shouto grinned.

“Ah, but I missed an opportunity,” he said. A soft sensation slid over your other wrist, and you looked down in confusion.

Then it hit you what he was up to, and your face instantly went up in flames.

A firm tug had your wrists knotted together, and Shouto smirked down at you, tugging you closer by the silky fabric of your scarf. Your stomach swooped at the intent look in his eye.

“I had been upset you weren’t wearing the scarf,” he said. “But there was an easy way to fix that.”

You swallowed heavily, your tongue feeling strangely thick. Your brain was suddenly, but predictably, very very empty.

“Y-yeah. But technically you, um. You did fix it,” you babbled helplessly, limbs growing shivery with static as Shouto pressed closer. He was so warm, and he was so stupidly handsome.

“I’ve, uh, worn it a lot since,” you managed.

Shouto considered you quietly, a familiar, wry little smile pressing at the corner of his mouth.

Before you’d started dating, you’d been confused as hell by that expression, suspecting it meant he was bewildered by your very existence but was too polite to say so. After just over a year together, however, you had learned that was just what his face did when he thought you were being unreasonably appealing. Which, mystifyingly, was mostly when the working part of your brain disconnected from your mouth.

You scrounged around for other coherent words, thoughts thick and sluggish, like you were thinking through pudding.

Shouto, however, was merciful, putting an end to your suffering by leaning down and taking your mouth with his.

All the coherent thought you’d managed to dredge up melted away like frost under the morning sun. You pressed yourself closer to him, leaning up to give him better access to your mouth. Shouto kissed you as stupid as he always did before a hot hand came up to cup your face, thumb sliding over your cheek affectionately.

“It seems I’ve got you in the scarf as I had wanted,” Shouto said quietly, once he let you up for air. “But now I find that the scarf is all I want you in.”

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you might have said was as much a mystery to you as anyone. But all that managed to come out was a choked, breathy little noise.

Shouto laughed.

Then there were large hands on your waist, and the next thing you knew, you were staring down at the wood paneling of Shouto’s floor as it moved underneath you. Shouto adjusted you over his shoulder briefly, and then he was charting a brisk course to his bedroom, depositing you like an errant pillow back onto his sheets.

Your cheeks burned as he crawled over you, gaze hot and searching.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked.

You nodded vehemently, eyes pulled to the little flat sliver of his abs where his shirt had ridden up.

“Good, yeah, I’m so good,” you managed to garble out. You were going to be so embarrassed about this later, but as usual when it came to him, you really couldn’t help it. If you’d learned anything in the year you’d been together, it was that you would always have the world’s fattest crush on Shouto Todoroki.

Strong fingers came up to grasp your chin, tipping your face up for another searing kiss. You managed to loop your bound arms over the back of Shouto’s neck, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and pulling him down to you more firmly.

Shouto flattened himself against you, so that you could feel every strong plane of his body, every hard muscle. You shuddered, and you could feel Shouto smirk against your mouth.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, hands pulling at your shirt. You wiggled so that he could pull it out from under you, sliding it up to rest just below the scarf. In the next second he’d also gotten you out of your pants, so that you were mostly bare to him in the cool apartment air.

Shouto looked you over for a moment, looking like he still couldn’t believe you existed. “Having you over the countertops was something that I wouldn’t change. Something that I won’t change, once you move in.”

Your face went hot and you squirmed underneath him.

“However,” he said softly, “I believe I would have liked to have been more deliberate with you. Taken my time with you,” he paused. “Perhaps...I might have made you come once for every photo of me on your twitter.”

The tips of your ears went hot. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t be serious.

You had deleted that twitter over a year ago, and though he’d apparently been allowed access to the contents by his manager (rude) there was absolutely no way he could remember how many pictures of him you’d retweeted. You’d been the one doing the retweeting, and even you didn’t remember, though you thought the number was probably embarrassingly high.

“There was like, one,” you squeaked out.

Shouto’s smile went dark and he leaned over you, his perfect, infuriating mouth so close he might have kissed you again.

“Thirteen,” he said, mouth brushing yours as he spoke. “There were thirteen photos of me on your twitter. All while you tried so hard to act like you didn’t want me, that you wanted to be just friends.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to be my friend,” you protested. You jerked when his hand slid up your side to cup a breast, thumb slipping under the band of your bra.

“You weren’t accepting my gifts,” he said, fingers grazing your nipple. You bit down on an embarrassing noise, letting out a sharp breath. “How else was I to make you take them?”

You opened your mouth to respond but Shouto made another pass over your nipple, and a moan escaped you instead.

“That’s right, love,” he said encouragingly. “Now I’m going to make you give me something in return. Thirteen somethings, in fact.”

He peeled down the cup of your bra, fastening his hot mouth over your breast. You whined, twitching when he flattened his tongue, dragging it slowly over the point of your nipple. A strong arm came up to press your hands down over your head.

“Shouto, thirteen is insane,” you panted.

He paid you no mind, instead swirling his tongue in a way that made your vision blur.

A tugging at your wrists made you look up, in time to see Shouto one-handedly looping the long end of the scarf through the slats on his headboard and pulling tight. Your whole body clenched up at the implication.

The slide of fabric over your breasts told you that Shouto had also managed to get your bra up, and hot mouth closed over your other nipple, long fingers carefully plucking at the other. “We have all weekend, love. Thirteen is ambitious but quite possible.”

You made a weak noise of acknowledgement, hips shifting forward against his stomach.

Shouto laughed, hot breath ghosting over your breast, and then he was crawling down your torso, hands grasping your underwear. He pulled it down slowly, torturously, until he managed to get it off you, then pulled your knee over his shoulder.

You whimpered, feeling like you might actually pass out from how hot he looked, one thigh thrown carelessly over his shoulder, gaze intent, staring down at you like a starving man looking at a hot meal.

You squirmed, trying to pull your arms down to get your hands on him, but the scarf held fast, pulling more firmly over your wrists.

“Shouto, please,” you said, though whether you were begging for him to touch you or to let you go, even you didn’t know.

Shouto seemed to take it as permission. Those two-toned eyes passed over you hotly, and then he was leaning down, biting down gently on the inside of your thigh. You jerked violently, but he held you in place, mouth trailing slowly, slowly down to where you wanted him.

You thought you might actually black out before he got where he was going.

“I can’t believe I ever told you you were unwelcome in my apartment,” he murmured, sucking a slow bruise into the skin at the crease of your thigh. “Once you move in, I’m never going to let you leave it.”

“Oh my god,” you said.

Shouto’s tongue flicked out, catching the edge of your sex, and you tried not to choke on air.

Then, finally, he moved, fastening his mouth over you, exactly where you wanted him. All reason completely left you.

After that, everything was an unbearable flurry of feeling--a soft tongue swirling over you, the tickle of his bangs on your stomach, the press of broad shoulders between your knees. There was the rasp of his sheets between your shoulder blades, the slow, deliberate press of two fingers inside of you, a firm grip on your thigh, fingers digging in tightly.

You could feel every point of connection with him, every minute movement of his mouth over you, and the sensation built up into something so horribly, terribly good. You were unable to do anything but writhe and pant underneath him, babbling something that sounded like it might be an approximation of his name.

Shouto hummed and sucked softly, those long fingers curling inside you. He finally hit a spot that made you see stars, and you practically lifted off the bed, back bowing. Shouto licked you through it, tongue curling expertly around your clit while you sobbed out his name, only slowing when your body went slack, collapsing back into his sheets.

When you could see straight once more, you realized he was staring up at you, that wry smile curling the corner of his mouth again.

You fought down a blush, feeling an embarrassed grin pull at the corner of your own mouth.

“You’re unreal,” you said. “I can’t believe I’m going to get to have you all the time.”

Shouto pressed a short kiss to the skin of your hip. “You already have me all the time.”

You flapped a hand in its bindings. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe we’re going to live together.”

His fingers slid gently over the back of your thigh. “I’d have had you in here sooner, if you hadn’t insisted on graduating first.”

You laughed. He was always so very straightforward about whatever he wanted.

He had been making very unsubtle noises about living together only a few months into your relationship, but you’d insisted that you wait at least a year. He’d grown up with more conservative mores, having been raised a rich boy, and taking things quickly once he knew he was serious about you seemed to be the style of things. But you, despite your frankly unreasonable thirst for your own boyfriend, knew the value of taking things just a little bit slower.

So you’d waited a year, just to be prudent, though you’d known all along how things would end up.

And now he finally had his way.

“I’m all yours now,” you promised, laughing. “Soon you’ll be sick of me hogging the bed, and leaving books everywhere, and getting so blackout at the farmer’s market that we don’t have room for all the vegetables.”

“Ah, you’re using me for vegetable access,” he accused, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the smile he was attempting to smother into your thigh.

“A girl’s gotta have her priorities,” you grinned.

Something lit up in Shouto’s gaze again, and he shifted up against your thigh to lean over you more fully. His fingers gripped the back of your knee tightly.

“I'll make you pay for that,” he promised darkly. “Twelve more times.”

You shivered as he took your mouth again, fingers sliding back between your thighs with obvious intent.

And then you really did. You paid for it.

Twelve more times.