#all the little things pile up and if THEY won’t be irked then *I* will be irked for them!

[poorlittleyaoyao]

Just shouted “yOU HAD A MONTH to TELL HIM. you had a MONTH!!!” at the screen because LXC agrees to have Wangxian use “the conference next month” as an opportunity to search Jinlintai for NMJ’s head. And obviously LXC can’t tell JGY about WWX, or even about just MXY, but somewhere! In that month! He could have mentioned! Bringing guests!!!!

He also could have maybe given LWJ and WWX a heads-up about MXY being expelled for harassing QS (in this canon), since 1.) WWX can adjust his behavior around QS accordingly to ensure her comfort and 2.) the harassment appears to be common knowledge and maybe assuming the identity of a guy whom everyone in Jinlintai will view with suspicion is not conducive to conducting an investigation unnoticed!

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hi. Sorry this is a bit long, but I could really use the help.

I guess I should start with who I am. I’m a member of the Creature Community, as you probably could have already surmised, but I don’t exactly look the part. You see, my genus looks rather similar to humans. That is, upon death. Our “ghosts” are almost indistinguishable from living sapios, at least for the first few years.

Now, I’ve recently died. Contrary to what many expect, it honestly hasn’t affected me too much. Sure, it takes some getting used to, and I have gone to therapy to work through the event itself, but it’s no more rattling than a particularly violent metamorphosis.

I’m lucky enough to still have some friends from before my death. One such friend, let’s call her “Amy”, has been very kind to me. She’s helped me work through this transformation, and even set up a small altar for me in her house.

The other day, Amy invited me over to her parent’s house for dinner. I was quite excited, after all, Amy had been one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, so it would only make sense her parents would be just as kind, right?

Goodness, was I wrong. Ever since my death, I can’t exactly consume food in the usual way. I was under the impression that this was conveyed to Amy’s parents, but I was mistaken. Upon sitting down at the table, I was served the same as everyone else. I assumed there’d been some kind of misunderstanding, and attempted to explain that I couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t on an altar or otherwise spiritually offered to me. Her mother seemed a bit irked, and said something along the lines of “there’s no need to be so picky.”

I tried to explain to them that I wasn’t being picky, but that I physically couldn’t eat it. It was around then I realized that Amy had never told them I wasn’t sapio, least of all that I was dead. Still, I did my best to try to explain it too them without it being seen as offensive. The food they had made did look and smell delicious, but that didn’t make it any more possible for me to eat.

That was when her father chipped in. He said, and I quote, “Well, you don’t look dead.”

I know that technically, to him, he’s right. To most humans who saw me, I did not look dead. But for some reason, what he said really upset me. I mean, what did he want me to look like, Slimer from Ghostbusters? A Haunted Mansion animatronic?!

I left pretty quickly after that, though I’ll admit I said some pretty harsh things before I went. I just don’t know what to do. I’ve already tried to apologize to Amy, but she won’t answer any of my texts or calls. I know that I was wrong for yelling at them, but I can’t help but feel that maybe they’re not all the way in the right either. How can I fix this without letting them hold onto those biases? Or should I just let it go?

I think you're being really rather hard on yourself here, reader. I don't see that this mess is yours to fix at all. First, you were put in a very awkward situation because of your friend's lack of forethought. Then you were apparently left to fend for yourself in that awkwardness, with no support from the friend in question.

You were subjected to casual sapiocentrism in a place where you might have expected to be treated more kindly. You say that, “for some reason”, you were hurt by Amy's father's comments – as if they weren't immediately, obviously insulting comments and dismissive of the variety of forms post-life vitality might take.

Finally, after being subjected to a mounting pile of microaggressions, you removed yourself from the situation. Perhaps this removal was a little less graceful than you might prefer, looking at it in retrospect. But given the givens, I think you did very well to be as polite as you were, for as long as you were.

You have even gone so far as to try to apologise for the unpleasantness of the situation – despite said unpleasantness being almost entirely the fault of other people's rudeness, ignorance, and inconsideration. But those attempts have fallen on ears that as not so much deaf as willingly plugged.

I don't think you need to worry about making amends with Amy's parents. You were their guest and they treated you poorly, with no indication that they have any interest in learning from the experience. Even if they did want to do better, you aren't their guinea pig. You have no responsibility to teach them the error of their ways, and the relationship isn't one you need to maintain.

Your friendship with Amy, however, does need some work. Amy has clearly demonstrated that she loves and cares about you. Her treatment of you following your revitalisation shows this. But sadly, love and care are not always enough to prevent harm.

I recommend offering to meet up in person to talk about the evening in question. You can certainly tell her that you want to make amends, but it's important you also make it clear that this is not a one-sided apology. Tell her you want to talk about some of the ways she could have supported you better as a person of the night in that situation, with a view to strengthening your friendship.

If she agrees to meet, remember to stay calm and be clear about the particular behaviours you want to address. This isn't about making Amy feel punished or blamed. It's about helping her to love you better. You have certain needs as a recently revived individual, and if she is going to invite you to an event, she has to make sure those needs will be met.

She also needs to understand that, while she may not see your post-death vitality as anything to write home about, that doesn't mean other people feel the same. It is unkind of her to put you into a situation where you will be expected to defend your identity or bite your tongue in the face of anti-liminal sentiments.

I sincerely hope Amy proves herself willing and able to listen to you and learn from this. Her previous behaviour suggests its certainly possible. But if she can't, please understand – this is not on you.

Sadly, some people are only interested in being kind so long as they can also be comfortable. You are better off keeping them at arm's length and keeping your more intimate feelings for those who can be trusted with them.

[ficklecat]

Oopsie daisy here’s a drabble for @kakashiweek

Day 1, 09/10

Prompt 1/A - Library

“These are overdue.”

“Yes.”

“All of these are overdue.”

“That’s very likely, yes.”

“Some of them are overdue by…six years.”

Kakashi scratched the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. He watched as the more-than-slightly-perturbed librarian swiped hastily through the stack of books he’d hauled in to return, logging each with an irritated little click-click-clack on the keys next to her. She eyed him warily as he smiled, hoping to appear apologetic and not at all like he was hiding the fact that this was only half the stack so far, the others still waiting patiently on his bookshelf at home.

“You accrue fines you know,” she said, her voice maintaining a nasal-flat tone of irritation, faced with the obvious irk of so many overdue texts showing up on her desk mere minutes before closing. Kakashi had tried to get here in time to do this earlier, truly he had - at Gai’s ever-growing behest. But he’d promised his dogs a walk, and then on the way back he’d remembered he needed to pick up leeks for dinner, and while he was at it he may as well get some other things for the week, and then of course he could say hi to Ino and get flowers for Gai, and speaking of he remembered Gai had asked him to try some of that new white peach tea they’d spied in the tea shop window the previous weekend, and really the weather was so nice this time of year, and the park was mostly empty, and his favourite spot beneath the tree was unoccupied, and then of course that meant he could probably sneak a nap in, and he had so few days off now, just a little quiet nap wouldn’t be too bad—

“Lord Sixth.”

Kakashi blinked, then smiled politely, as the librarian cocked an expectant brow. Her palm was out and he looked down squarely at the centre of it.

“I do apologize,” he said as genuinely as he could muster. “It must have slipped my mind to return these…uh…but I did get quite a bit of use out of them over the years.” He eyed the top title, Taijutsu Tactics, and wondered if he’d be fined additionally for the doodle he’d scribbled onto the corner of page 87, of Gai doing a handstand.

“I said you accrued fines,” the librarian deadpanned, not skipping a beat. “You owe the village 1,782 ryō. Lord Sixth.”

Oof.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck and heard a scoff from the charming librarian’s fellow clerk, who was gathering her things to leave. He sighed - Hokage or not he definitely didn’t carry that much money on him - and reached into his pocket. He extracted 400 ryō and placed it into the waiting hand of the librarian. Her fingers did not close and she huffed.

“That’s all I have on me for now,” he said. “Again, I do apologize. Perhaps I could come back tomorrow—“ The other clerk stood at the door tapping her foot and cleared her throat. “—earlier tomorrow, and pay the rest?”

A pause, his best little eye crinkle, a scrunched nose grin, the face of the beloved Rokudaime and definitely, absolutely not the “little shit grin” Gai so affectionately referred to it as.

The librarian huffed, counted the money, then did a few more pointed clickety-clacks before she reached down and handed Kakashi the majority of the stack back, sliding it precariously across the counter. He furrowed his brow and she patted the top of Taijutsu Tactics with a nod.

“I can’t accept these back without the fines,” she said. “Once you can pay the fines you can bring them back.”

“But…won’t that accrue more fines?”

The clerk at the door gave a soft snort. The librarian in front of him didn’t move an inch, and Kakashi very briefly thought she might’ve fallen asleep standing up, with the annoyed expression on her face, before she wordlessly nudged the pile closer to him.

Kakashi didn’t get to where he was without knowing when he was beat.

With another smile - this time a bit less polite and a bit more “little shit” - he took the books and nodded, turning to leave.

“Good evening ladies.”

“Lord Sixth.”

Sighing and hoisting the books in one arm, Kakashi headed home with a smile. Since donning the hat he’d felt unwittingly propelled into a world farther above the station he’d ever anticipated he’d be, but it was nice to know that even as the Rokudaime, there were still a few prevailing relics of bureaucracy that could make him feel like everyone else again.

[cripplemagics]

Tired

Summary: A snippet of writing describing Jay’s first time meeting Elias after he escapes, as well as the immediate aftermath.  triggers: blood, language, general creepy guy vibes (Elias is the creepy guy vibing here) mentions/implications of human sacrifices. 

Jay finds themself about to hyperventilate. The hairs on the back of their neck stand up as they walk between rooms. This building’s abandoned, yet they sense remnants of magic, dark and grotesque magic. Elias is here. They recognize the gnawing sensation along their spine. It takes everything they have to not turn and run. Lucas and the other agents are outside, waiting for any sign of danger. But Jay knows Elias will do everything to keep them from signaling for help. That’s why they have their knife and several spells they’ve learned since Elias was imprisoned. If he doesn’t know that they have the spell, he won’t be able to counter it. Or that’s what they hope.

None of the rooms show signs of being lived in. While old graffiti paints the walls, there’s no mattresses or lanterns or anything else. At least it’s that way until Jay walks into the room farthest from the entrance. Immediately the air’s knocked out of them by the smell of charred flesh. When they manage to get their breathing stable it’s only to feel their throat close in terror at the sight before them. A pile of several burned and mutilated bodies sit before a makeshift altar. Across the top a flask lays sideways, spilling what they only hope is wine or some similar red drink. There’s a dirty and matted long lock of hair, the color indiscernible. Jay gets the awful feeling it’s blonde beneath the layer of dirt. The last thing laid out is the picture of them that Lucky lost in the move. Runes frame their body. An old icon stands on the altar as well, the image too obscene and twisted for them to describe. However they know who it is. Tiranagu, the corrupt sorcerer who turned himself into incorporeal magic to live forever. The magic that possessed Elias years ago.

“I would’ve had more if you hadn’t run, you know.” Jay has a hand on their knife when they whirl around to see Elias in the doorway. He blocks their exit, blood covered arms stretched to lean against the door frame. They can’t help but notice how clean his clothes are, and it irks them.

“All this time in prison and you’re still anal about your clothes getting blood on them?” They’re not going to let him actually talk about why either of them are here. Maybe if they stall long enough the agents outside will pick up on the situation and come in anyway.

“I wanted to look nice for our reunion Jay! Is that such a bad thing?” Elias relaxes his arms, giving Jay a second to see the magic crackling around his fingers. “Besides, blood feels so much better on the skin than it does on fabric. It’s far more visceral and sensual, don’t you agree?”

“To put it simply? No,” Jay can’t help but grimace. “You’re gross and blood is gross. Do you have any idea how many diseases you could get from it? You could die!” Not that they mind the idea of that. Elias grins, a sure sign they said the wrong thing.

“I’m glad you care so much about my wellbeing, Little Bird.”

“It’s more that I’m surprised you forgot everything I taught you about the risks of blood magic. I thought you were smarter,” Jay snarks. “Don’t fucking come near me with all that on you! Do you have any idea what you’ve done anyway? Before, you at least wouldn’t murder anyone. But now you’re sacrificing people?!” They stop, hands now grasping at the hem of their shirt and twisting it. Honestly the thought about Elias sacrificing people to become more powerful is just now settling in. It makes them sick. Their heart’s racing, body thrown fully into flight or fight, except they’ve chosen to freeze.

“All for you, I promise.” Elias’s words are enough for Jay to start shaking.

This is bad, it’s time to get help. Just get to the hallway and scream.

“Jay, pay attention now. I don’t need you dissociating on me again. This is an important occasion after all.” Their eyes snap up to meet his gaze. They’re angry now and their lips are set in a defiant scowl.

“No, shut up.”

“What?” Jay would be lying if they said they didn’t relish the confused look on Elias’s face. “Baby, did you just-”

“Yes, I did just tell you to shut up. And you forgot: I’m not yours. Which means I’m not your baby.” A silent spell roars through their mind and in an instant Jay lurches out into the hallway behind Elias. They barely register a curse from him as they forego any regard for safety. Bolting down the hall they scream for Lucas to give the signal. Bad, bad, bad; what spell should I use? What can I use? Focus. No, panic! Get to safety! Find people! Go, go, go!

Jay stumbles into harsh sunlight, still screaming when someone scoops them up. “No! Get off me! I’m not gonna let you do this-”

“Holden!” It’s Lucas. “Breathe, I promise I’m not going to do anything bad.” Jay found themself trembling intensely but they manage to take deep breaths. People storm the building as they let Lucas gently pull them away to a truck set up as HQ. Cool air does nothing to calm the sting of their flushed cheeks, but it does relax their muscles. Serenity’s waiting in the door for them. The dog goes to their side without hesitation, grateful to see them unharmed. Jay’s grateful to be out of the heat, but they’re disappointed. “I botched the mission.” Lucas lets them go so they can sit. “Hey, no you didn’t. We knew going in that he most likely wasn’t going to be caught today.” “I panicked!” Jay protests. “He got under my skin again. I let him get under my skin.” They look to Lucas for an extended reprimand, but he’s too busy filling a cup with water to say much. “Hasn’t therapy taught you that healing isn’t linear? You got triggered today in a way you didn’t think you’d ever have to deal with again.” He hands them the cup. “No one’s going to hold this against you. If you want to debrief now, you can. But if you need to cool off then we can wait.” Jay sips the water, noticing a camera feed that shows the other agents bringing out the corpses. “He killed more people. They were sacrifices. That’s what unnerved me Lucas,” Jay gulps. “He’s getting worse again.” They don’t want to drink again. Water’s too much for their system in this state of panic. Nausea already twists their stomach. “I’m out of ideas.” “It’s not your job to come up with ideas Holden. It never was.” “I know! I --” Feel helpless, like I can’t do anything right, as if I’m never  going to solve this problem because all I do is make it worse. “I’m tired.” They feel Lucas’s gaze soften. It’s an uncanny ability that comes from the heightened senses of a person in crisis. Fear taints their soul like a mold spore taking root on food. Something has to change, or they’ll be susceptible to Elias’s magic again. “Then it’s time to get you off site.” Lucas holds out their backpack and their cane. “I’m not about to make you wait while the others search the scene. You’ve done more than your share of work.” “Geeze, thanks,” Jay can’t help the sarcasm dripping from their lips. They take their things, slipping a hand through the loop on Serenity’s leash once standing up. “You guys could pay me, y’know. That’d help a tiny bit when it comes to this whole situation. I’m easily doing three times more than most of the agents on your payroll.”

[fanficsat12am]

how the brothers react to playing with his hair headcanons | Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜 Lucifer & Mammon Beelzebub & Belphegor

Leviathan

The first time you did it, he was genuinely not prepared. Levi was in the middle of sewing his next cosplay when it happened. He was so engrossed in making sure every stitch was right that he failed to notice you leave the bathtub he calls a bed.

He's only reminded of your presence when he feels the tender touches of fingers brushing through his plum purple hair.

Your hand combed through his tousled mop with ease, despite him forgetting to brush it that morning.

To you, it was just a nice little gesture to show some affection. To him, it felt like a spell closely associated with those casted by sorceresses he sees in his anime, chanting charms meant to lure unsuspecting wanderers deep into the forest.

Despite Levi claiming that he cared little for the deed, his actions beg to differ. Instead of pulling away, he leaned deeper onto your hand with a blush and enjoyed the fond moment with you.

He wanted to get back in his bathtub and cuddle, but he wasn't willing to stop sewing.

Thus, the battle in his head met a compromise of multitasking instead.

He continued to sew while you continued to play with his hair.

He's become accustomed to it and likes to feel your touch no matter what he's doing, as long as you're alone of course.

Playing Bad Devil Slayer, watching new episodes of Ruri Chan, just hanging out in his room, you name it.

"Levi-chan, wanna rewatch TSL with me? I promise I'll play with your hair"

"S-sure if you want to. You don't have to do it b-but if that's your vibe, okay I guess"

such a blushing mess

Satan

It seemed that everything around him was going wrong that day. He had been snippy all morning and got irritated at even the smallest things. To be fair, being bombarded with tasks from the council and a pile of homeworks that can fill a whole shelf can make anyone pissed off.

You felt really bad for the demon and wanted to so badly help cease his inner turmoil. You knew that keeping his wrath in check was a hard task on its own. With all that’s been going on? You weren’t even sure how he was still in his normal form

So you decided to do what you do whenever he's in the middle of reading, play with his hair.

At first, he swatted your hand

"I don't have time for this, MC"

Too bad for him, you were persistent

After a few more tries, he finally succumbs and accepts his fate.

Satan was irked at first, wanting to just finish his work. After a while though, he closes his eyes and starts to melt onto your hand like wax near a flame. The moment reminded Satan of a human world fairytale he read, an image of a girl spinning straw to gold.

For a few minutes, all his worries were washed away.

Just like Lucifer, he finds comfort in your touch and immediately looks for you on rough days as well as just a past time while reading.

"Hey Love, long day today?"

" I'm teetering on the edge of a crumbling cliff and your touch is the only thing keeping me from falling, Kitten "

Asmodeus

He was known as the brother who took pride in his looks the most in the land of Devildom. He always took extra care of his appearance from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

When the both of you started dating, he still had his guard up when it concerned his physical image.

So when he saw you even try to get your hand near his tuft of champagne hair, he instinctively dodged it. The crown on top of his head took him hours to do and he won’t allow someone to mess it up in just a few seconds.

He couldn’t blame you though. Who’d want to miss the chance to have a short glimpse of the treasured “Jewel of the Heavens”, who was brought down from the Celestial Realm to be seen by everyone, let alone be able to reach and touch him.

So one day, he decided to leave his hair be for once. Asmo didn’t do anything grand with his hair and let it flow naturally. He looked for you and luckily found you in your room, reading a book probably recommended by Satan. The demon laid his head down on your lap, took your hand, and placed it on the top of his head.

You were understandably confused by his actions, knowing how he felt about just the thought of his appearance being slightly disheveled. But, he insisted you play with his hair–so you did.

The moment was magical for the Avatar of Lust. Though he was the living embodiment of sexual desire, this was different. To him it was love. To him it was affection. To him it was a desire for his heart, not just his body. Whatever it was, he wanted more of it.

And more is what he got. The brothers now often find Asmo in your arms having his hair played with. He savors the feeling of your fingers grazing his scalp, his hair making it look as if you were brushing your hand along the fine grains of sand on a beach.

“Are you sure Your Majesty? I know you have an event coming up tonight”

“MC, you've got me all wrong. I’d sacrifice every party in Devildom just to get a sliver of your touch, Darling~~”

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the support in the last post🥰I hope you liked this one as well 💕I kinda got more in-depth with these ones hehe. More are coming soon so I hope you guys stay around for that ❗❗ Feel free to lemme know your thoughts and if you guys have any requests, my inbox is always open💌 See y'all next timeeee~~

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song v (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, fluff, smut; a shit ton of kissing, oral (f), seokjin likes eye contact, slight overstimulation, he also seems to have a slight potty mouth when turned on, romantic sex, protected sex, shower scene, oral (m), this chapter is basically just sex, enjoy! (yes, the dilf dick is b i g) lingerie described found here for the visuals ~  words; 9,572

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. You were like a little kid at the lead up to Christmas. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited for something. Actually, on second thoughts, you couldn’t think of a time you were this excited for anything, period. And all over the prospect of sleeping with Seokjin, and definitely not in the innocent way… He had in no way explicitly stated that you’d be having sex this week, but the insinuation was heavy in the air. Everything leading up to this moment was suggesting come Saturday night you would not be sat in front of Seokjin’s 75” television watching boxsets… 

On the morning of you decided to pack a few things in a small case. You definitely planned on returning home in the day if needed or bored while Seokjin was at work, but the essentials were required: underwear, pyjamas, a few outfits, toiletries and skincare, your iPad, miscellaneous chargers. Soojung on the other hand was acting like you were never coming back… 

“I’m going to miss you.” She whined, having been hovering around you as you packed. “Leaving me alone with smelly Tae.” 

In a bid not to be alone in the evenings she’d invited her smelly boyfriend over for the week, but although she sounded irked it was all just an act. God knows what they’d get up to while you were gone, you dreaded to think. On second thoughts, maybe it would be best to stay at Seokjin’s place all week… You had no clue what you’d walk in on in your own home.  

“I won’t be gone the whole week. Besides, we can meet up for lunch and stuff.” You often visited her at the department store, perusing the food court until it was time for her lunch break. You weren’t secluded from the whole world while away. What did she think was happening? 

She helped you fold your clothes in momentary silence, deep in thought it seemed. “What if you love it there and want to stay permanently Dilf mansion?” 

You scoffed immediately, taking the small pile of t-shirts from her to pack away. “Soo, way to jump the gun.” You’d been dating barely six weeks, hadn’t even had sex yet, moving in together was number 1 on the highly unlikely list. Although, sliding in a couple of pairs of flats into the top pocket of your case and zipping it up, you hummed in consideration. “Dilf mansion does have a ring to it though…” 

Soojung’s attention was on another pile of clothing now – one you would be wearing this evening to leave for Seokjin’s house. Her fingertips brushed along the delicate baby blue lace of your lingerie, sitting on top of the pile and she looked up at you and grinned wickedly. “You’re going to knock his socks off with this.” 

You and her had spent yesterday browsing the mall with a very important task. To decide on the most perfect lingerie set. Knowing Seokjin for a while know, you’d noticed he had an inclination for the colour blue, so your chosen piece had to be a winner – practically see-through, littered in beautiful lace flowers. You were well and truly prepared for tonight, you were a woman on a mission. 

“His Dilf socks,” you corrected your best friend, both of you instantly exploding into a fit of giggles. 

Arin had left with her grandparents this morning, and as much as Seokjin was eager to get this weekend started and see you immediately, he actually had a few things he needed to take care of at work. It wasn’t until around 5pm that you got into your car to make the short journey, Soo waving you off proudly like you were about to attend your graduation. You were honestly quite calm given the circumstances, although one look at Seokjin as he stepped out the front door to take your case and all inner composure was lost. You were one big ball of excitement, most of it flurrying around in the pit of your stomach. Yet you kept cool on the outside, grinning at the handsome man in front of you despite your lingerie burning marks into your skin. 

And handsome he was today, (as if he wasn’t every day), his dark hair parted in the centre of his forehead naturally, his eyes crinkling as he smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You tasted a hint of mango on his mouth, an obvious sheen to his plump lips, and you presumed he’d applied some chapstick before you’d arrived – the chapstick you’d bought him not too long ago after he’d complained of cracked lips to you on the phone one night. 

“Hey,” he greeted softly, his arms around your waist, body pressed snuggly into yours. 

“Hey yourself,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck, gazing into one another’s eyes before you lightly teased him. “Are we going to stay out here all night?” 

Chuckling heartily, he reached behind you, lifting your case with ease. “Let’s go put this in my room.” 

You’d never once stepped foot onto the upper level of his house before, so you were very observant on your way to his bedroom, eyes catching art pieces (you noticed numerous of Arin’s) and photos along the walls, light fixtures, as well as the odd plant here and there. You had to walk two flights of stairs to get to your destination, one average in length, the other shorter, veering off to the left of the corridor to reach a landing leading into his bedroom. You remembered what he’d said about changing and designing his bedroom himself, so you were very curious as to what it looked like inside. Yet still, the sight of it stunned you to brief silence. 

His was the largest bedroom in the house, the master bedroom if you were being fancy, but in your opinion it was more like a mini home in itself. All it needed was a kitchen and you would be good to go. It smelt just like him – of his cologne and the recognisable vanilla scent his house seemed to waft of every time you visited. The walls were warm grey, décor similar with dashes of cream and gold. The bed matched the whole vibe of the room – insanely large, and you could already tell it was going to be the comfiest thing you’d ever slept on. Directly opposite, but a long way away, were a sofa and love seat sat around a TV hooked to the wall above a stunning fireplace. There were two sets of double windows, from the ceiling to the wooden floor, dark grey drapes open – not that it mattered. Seokjin’s house was out-of-the-way, no chance of being seen. All you were met with as you looked down, was a small patch of garden you hadn’t seen before, plain and simple, but very beautiful. Tranquil. 

To the left of the room a door opened into another, perhaps a quarter of the size – his closet, and you followed him inside, still pretty much lost for words. He said there was no point putting your belongings away tonight, you could do it tomorrow, but he’d saved a drawer for you and there was an empty section of hanging space you could use too. There was also a dressing table you could put to good use, because he sure didn’t, and then he whisked you away into the bathroom, which was probably the most beautiful room in the house. Everything was warm marble in colour. A separate bath and shower (both gigantic) and double sinks. 

“I got you a robe,” Seokjin pointed out, and you followed his gaze to behind the door, two fluffy white robes hooked to the wall. 

Oh, boy. You could get used to this. 

.

.

Seokjin ordered takeout for dinner – from an Indian restaurant Namjoon kept raving about apparently. With the amount he ordered you could have sworn he was feeding a whole party, not just the two of you. You were stuffed in no time, curling up on the sofa with a glass of red wine as Seokjin loaded the dishwasher. He still hadn’t cooked an actual meal for you, and when he joined you, of course you reminded him. This week he was preparing dinner for you one night, and that was final. You needed to see what Chef Kim had in him – even if he insisted his skills were long forgotten.  

You cuddled as you watched a movie, which more often than not meant you’d start to become sleepy – just ask Soojung – but tonight was different. You were wide awake and practically thrumming with excitement. You were begging for the movie credits an hour before they were due, and when they finally popped up your heart started to beat harder in anticipation. It was nearing 11pm. Your lingerie was still burning welts into your skin… 

Seokjin kissed the top of your head, your back pressed into his chest where you’d been snuggled into him, legs across the sofa, for the duration of the night. One of his arms was crossed around your front, the other free to drink his wine as he propped his feet up on the glass topped coffee table. You could really get used to this. 

“What did you think?” He hummed, reaching forward to place his glass on a coaster. You grabbed his hand, not wanting him to leave you and he chuckled, quickly resuming position to now loop both arms around your shoulders, pressing you further into the warmth of his body. 

“I enjoyed,” you replied with a small shrug. In all honesty it would’ve been a great movie if you hadn’t been so distracted. 

You felt him lower his head, breath hot against your ear as he spoke. “I’m glad you didn’t fall asleep on me.” You giggled as he started to kiss the column of your neck, his barely there presses of his lips tickling you. Yet still you pushed into his hold, letting your head fall back. He took the opportunity to suck your earlobe between his lips, eliciting a sweet sigh from you. “I really can’t wait to spend this entire week with you.”  He whispered. 

You tried to keep your voice as uninvolved as possible – which was a lot harder when he now had your earlobe between his teeth. “Eh. I’m so-so over it.” 

“Y/N!” He scolded playfully, groaning a laugh as he lifted his head away. “Stop. Now’s not the time for joking around.” 

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, latching onto his hands. 

“Face me,” he murmured almost suddenly. “Let me kiss you properly.” 

His kisses were gentle and loving, his hands cupping your face as you leaned into him, hands placed across his hard chest. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt tucked into some black pants, he’d looked irresistible all night. He pulled away slowly, lips upturned almost drunkenly. “What’s that grin for?” 

Seokjin’s gaze flicked from your lips to your eyes repeatedly as he replied, thumbs massaging circles into your cheeks. “I’m just very happy. Is that allowed?” 

Giggling, you pressed your mouth to his, wrapping your palms around his neck to pull him in closer. He hummed loudly – indulgently, and let you lick into his mouth, his own hands slipping down to your neck and down your torso, gripping your middle. Your chest was flush to his and you welcomed the heat of his body. You were happy too. It had been a long time since you’d last felt this content, and tonight you’d realised just how lovely it was to be able to lounge with Seokjin and be in his company so casually, so naturally like this. You would become spoiled this week, but you couldn’t feel too worried right now. 

Breaking away again, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but your mouth was a greedy thing, finding its way down his neck and across his throat as he leaned his head against the back of the sofa, his breathing shallow as he let you wonder. His fingers brushed up and down your back distractedly, until he seemed to remember what he wanted to tell you. “Hey,” he whispered, breath catching in his throat when you pinched your teeth into his Adam’s apple softly. “Hey, stop for a moment. There was something I wanted to say before…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the very obvious direction of his sentence, and as much as you wanted to nosedive straight into that pool, you pulled back to look into his eyes, waiting patiently. 

He straightened his back and you eased off him a little, finding his fond smile contagious. “I’ve enjoyed these past few weeks so much.” He began, sincerity in his tone . “I know I’m not old old by any means but dating you has made me feel like I’m young again. I mean, grinding in the middle of a bar is something I didn’t even do back in my college days.” 

“I fail to believe that,” you laughed. 

“Really,” he insisted, looking amused. “I was a nerd. A handsome one, but a nerd nonetheless.” Before you could roll your eyes he was continuing. “What I’m trying to say is that, I really like you, Y/N.” His fingers played with the ends of your hair lovingly.  “You know that already. Shit, I’m crazy about you. Just hearing your voice makes my day better. No matter how short a time we spend together, even if it’s just on the phone to say goodnight, I feel happy – I feel relaxed.” He paused to take a breath before moving to cup your face with one hand. “No matter how stressed I am you make it better by just existing.” 

“…Seokjin,” you murmured, a little lost for words at his declaration. 

He chuckled warmly, tops of his cheeks tinged somewhat rosy. “Too cheesy?”

You shook your head adamantly, reaching for his face as well. “Not at all. I’m crazy about you too.” His face lit up instantly and you couldn’t help but kiss him. “I’m so happy we met,” you confessed against his mouth. “I don’t want this summer to be over.” 

“It’s not over yet,” he laughed. “We still have time to make it even better.” You wanted that more than anything. Finding it difficult to keep away from your lips, he practically had to tear himself away. He was out of breath. “I know saying this out loud is silly given everything, but… Let’s make this official.” 

Your heart started somersaulting. You felt like you were in high school again, over the moon because Kim Rowoon had asked you to prom. Only this was better than that – much, much better. Linking your arms around Seokjin’s neck you tilted your head to the side, a grin unable to keep off your face. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Kim?” 

“What do you say?” He sounded hopeful and soft. 

You hummed out loud, thinking hard. “Can I get back to you? 3 to five business days seems about right.” You immediately squealed as you finished your sentence, Seokjin’s hands finding their way around your butt to tug you forward. You gripped onto his shoulders with the surprise. 

“Too bad because I’ve already been calling you my girlfriend at the office.” 

You didn’t have a chance to reply, the hard press of his lips against yours knocking you senseless. You found yourself in his lap not long after, fingers dragging through his hair as you clung to him, mouths moving in gradual urgency until you began to feel out of breath. Your tongues seemed to grow more daring, intent, as your soft moans mingled with his quiet groans. You hadn’t quite found yourself in this position before, usually moulded to the soft leather but this time you had Seokjin pinned tight, a heat that was quickly becoming unbearable burning between your bodies, and his hands running up and down your back didn’t help. 

Each brush of his fingertips had your skin prickling with warmth, dizzying your mind, and when you felt him brush against the curve of your left breast you leaned forward into his touch, desperate for more. Seokjin grunted, encouraged by your action as he cupped the soft flesh, his thumb grazing your nipple which hardened from the touch. Your kiss turned a lot more frenzied after that, Seokjin roaming your body with confidence, his unoccupied hand cupping your butt to rock you against his crotch. 

He was hard. You’d felt it stiffening ever since you’d climbed into his lap, but now he was solid, flesh pressing (probably painfully) against his pants, and feeling emboldened you lifted your hips, hovering over him for your hand to slot in between your bodies, cupping his erection firmly. He stiffened under your grasp, his breath hitching and you took that moment to drag your tongue along his, teasing him as you slowly started to stroke him above his slacks. He felt thick and rigid between your fingers, pulsing erratically against your hold, and he broke away from your mouth, head falling back as a loud, drawn-out groan slipped from his throat. You gazed at him – eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted as he breathed shallowly – and took a mental picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. He looked gorgeous, basking in pleasure and you wanted to pleasure him more. It was an urge so strong you practically dived on him, mouth slamming into his. He soon gained his bearings, kissing you just as wildly as his hands groped your body. 

“Do you – mm, do you want – mm – to take this upstairs?” He asked against your lips, fingers currently digging into the soft flesh of your ass. The veins in his neck were visible, his desperation for you obvious, and you pulled away from the kiss to nod rapidly. If he didn’t get you upstairs soon you’d surely explode. 

You let out a little squeak as you suddenly found yourself in the air, safely held up by Seokjin. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as he began to make the brisk walk to the hallway and towards the staircase. “Oh, my god,” you muttered, laughing as you realised he was about to carry you bridal style all the way up the stairs. 

“What?” He laughed back, his eyes twinkling warmly. Your heart melted at the sight and you leaned in to kiss him, uncaring that you both may fall backwards and break your necks. 

“I may have forgotten about the amount of stairs in this goddamn house,” he panted lightly once you’d made it past the first set. 

“Put me down then,” you giggled. 

“Never,” he sang out, pecking you on the mouth sweetly. 

Once in his bedroom, he placed you down, closing the door behind you before caging you against it, kissing you like he hadn’t seen you for months. You keened into his touch, whole body hot and ready for him, but in the end you couldn’t keep up with his mouth. He’d never kissed you like this, he was a man possessed, you physically felt weak at the knees and you clung to him, moaning softly when his mouth fell to your neck. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he confessed against the wet skin, fresh waves of arousal washing through your body. His voice was an octave lower, gruff and nothing like you’d heard before. “I can’t contain myself knowing we’re going to be alone for a whole week.” 

“What do you plan on doing to me?” You laughed weakly, but to be honest, the time for wisecracks were gone. You were hanging on by a thread, this close to begging him to tear your clothes off. 

Cupping your neck he pulled away to look you in the face. His pupils were blown out, more black than the warm brown you were used to. The tops of his cheeks were tinged red, his own arousal very evident, and when he replied he sounded as sincere as ever. “Anything you want me to.” 

Okay, if he carried on like this, he’d mess up your plan good and proper. He was rude. Very rude. And hot, and sexy, and yours. God, you really wanted him. Your body was screaming for him. You pressed a kiss to his mouth, and then another, and another, determined not to get yourself glued there no matter how much he tried to drag his tongue along the seam of your lips. “L-let me freshen up,” you managed to get out, voice shaky as you (with great difficultly) held him away at arm’s length.  

At your words, he slowly made sense of them, his eyes refocussing before he gave you a short nod and politely stepped back. “Ok.” 

Before you could be tempted by that mouth of his once more, you made a dash for his bathroom, closing the door behind you. Immediately you began to rush out of your clothes, not even bothering to fold them properly because you were in such a hurry. You’d had this planned all night, wanting him to be rendered speechless, and staring at your lingerie cladded self in the giant mirror he had hooked to the wall, you reminded yourself to take a breather. You were going to walk out there calmly, the epitome of composed as you sought out his reaction. With one last look at your reflection, you walked towards the door and opened it. 

Seokjin was sat on the edge of the bed, legs sinfully spread (but oh so casually, which just made it hotter), but he wasn’t looking your way, his eyes darting around the room a little as if he was desperately trying to find some patience. Knowing he was riled and aroused made your head even more dizzy, and stopping by the doorframe, you called out to him. 

He looked your way instantly, eyes bulging even quicker. Actually they practically popped out on storks as he took in the sight of you in the baby blue underwear. He seemed paralysed. 

“Hey,” you smiled, all of a sudden feeling a little shy as you waited for him to say something. 

It took another moment, but then he was swallowing hard, wetting his mouth as his lips parted. “Oh, shit.” 

You smiled victoriously, those simple two words satisfying you fully. 

He outstretched his hand, voice thick and raspy as he beckoned you forward. “Come here.”

You obeyed, closing the distance between you quickly and Seokjin wasted no time clasping his hands around your hips as you stood in front of him, between his legs. If felt so good to finally have his hands on your bare skin. His touch was warm, soothing, but most of all, electrifying. Goosebumps spread as he dragged his fingers up and down your sides, his eyes drowning at the sight of you. 

“Do you like it? It’s not too much?” You asked, looking down at him. You glowed under his gaze. 

He lifted his head up, arching an eyebrow. “Do I like it? Is that supposed to be a genuine question?” He sounded just as baffled as he looked and it made you giggle. His fingers started to play with the thin waistband of your panties before delicately outlining the lace flower petals on your ass. The sensation made you shiver, and a small smile grew on his face as he watched you. “You look gorgeous.” He leaned forward, beginning to place small, gentle kisses on your abdomen and your skin rippled, butterflies appearing. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured, hot puffs of air hitting you, heating you up even more. 

You curled your hand in his hair, needing something to latch on to as you watched him mouth even more kisses along your flesh. The point of his tongue dipped into your navel scandalously, and as you gasped he looked up with his eyes and smirked, tongue now swirling invisible patterns along your stomach. The sight sent you a little gooey, legs feeling weak again as your heart thrummed inside your chest. 

“However… I was looking forward to undressing you…” He teased.

You teased right back. “You still have the lingerie.” 

He couldn’t handle that, growling quietly against your stomach, his hands rounding your ass to mould the flesh in his palms firmly. He’d soon tear the panties if he kept that up. Obviously the idea of stripping you naked sent him feral – something you’d remember well for this week. You yelped when you felt him sink his teeth into your hip bone, pulling him closer to your body by his hair, desperate for more. It was when you looked behind him, did you notice the pillar candles aflame on the two nightstands that sat either side of his bed. They weren’t burning before you’d entered the bathroom. You were sure of it. 

“Seokjin, did you light candles?” You asked without realising, changing the atmosphere slightly, but you didn’t mind too much, not when the image of Seokjin rushing to burn candles for the ~ambience~ was too damn adorable. 

He lifted from your skin, looking up at you. “Um, yeah.” He sounded a little awkward before he chuckled softly. “I thought against the slow R&B music.” 

“Good choice,” you laughed, fingers rubbing small circles into the nape of his neck. That would’ve been hilarious. 

“I’m totally out of my depth here…” He admitted, nudging you backwards a little to stand in front of you. He kept his hands on your waist, ducking down to be eye level with you. “I haven’t done this in a while.” 

“Snap,” you grinned, rubbing your nose against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close. You kissed him deeply, feeling happy and relaxed. There wasn’t a nerve in sight and despite his honest words you knew he was at ease too.  

Your hands slipped over his shoulders and down his toned chest, stopping just before the waistband of his pants to tug at his t-shirt, untucking him. “You have to get naked too.” You whined, detaching your mouths. “I’m feeling sorely underdressed.” 

He let out an airy chuckle, immediately reaching for the neck of his shirt to tug it over his head. Your hands greedily started to explore his torso, running your fingers along his faintly lined abs before trailing up his hard chest. He shivered as you brushed against his nipples, a tiny laugh slipping from his throat. 

“What?” You laughed. 

“’Tickles.” He mumbled, leaning in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, loving the feeling of his bare chest against yours, but soon enough you got impatient again, hands reaching for the button of his pants. You popped it open and proceeded to unzip him, at least giving his poor erection some reprieve. It had been pressed up against your lower stomach for quite some time, still rigid but as patient as ever. 

He took over, stepping back to push them past his hips, his lips still attached to yours. “Mm–Bed.” He hummed, taking you by the hips to switch places. You pulled away and sat down, watching him kick his pants off his feet and your eyes zoned in on the curve of his erection, hidden by his Armani underwear – black with a red waistband. His thighs were perfectly toned, his skim glowing in the soft lighting. He looked good enough to eat and your heart skipped a couple of beats as he walked forward. 

You laid back against the mattress, instantly groaning at how soft it was. You practically sunk inside. “Oh, damn this is comfy.” Rolling onto your side as Seokjin climbed on the bed, you hid your smirk. “I could just go to sleep…” 

“I don’t think so,” he told you, hovering over you. His hand smacked you ass causing you to squeal, and you flipped onto your back as he took the moment to cage you under his large body. 

This time his mouth completely bypassed your lips to kiss your chest, pressing into the indents of your collarbones before slipping to the tops of your breasts. He kissed the fabric, wetting it as his tongue traced the delicate flower petals and you gripped onto his shoulders with a moan as he encased one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, soaking the lace a darker shade of blue. “You drive me crazy,” he quietly panted, his hands reaching behind your back, arched into the pleasure he was giving you. “May I?” He asked, fingers finding the clasp of your bra. You nodded hastily, moaning louder when he lifted his head to kiss your lips. His motions were firm, tight pleasure filled grunts leaving him as he freed you of your lingerie. 

Immediately he pulled away, dark eyes soaking in your bare chest like it was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. Your back arched further when his warm palms cupped your breasts, spreading a heat down your spine that settled between your legs. “You’re beautiful,” he awed, looking into your eyes, causing a sweet moan to fall from your lips. 

He moulded the soft flesh gently, before brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. That had you moaning again, pleasure you hadn’t felt in a long time rocketing up your body. It felt amazing to be touched by him, and you were greedy for more. He was on the same page, his lips replacing his thumbs, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud that had you sighing out his name, your fingers threaded in his hair. He hummed against you, squeezing your breasts and pressing his body into yours – once – his erection pressing into your thighs, before he pulled away, kissing down your sternum before licking into your navel, his hands rubbing up and down the outside of your thighs. 

His lips avoided your clothed heat, which was frustrating to say the least. You were so eager by now, unsure if you could take much more kissing before you exploded, but Seokjin was a man determined – determined on kissing every inch of your body it seemed. He made it down one thigh before moving onto the next and as he got towards your knee you couldn’t help but giggle – it was beginning to tickle, but he didn’t stop, lips pressing down your calf.  

“Seokjinn,” you whined. 

He chuckled as he made his way back up the other leg, bending you at the knee before gently getting you to spread out for him. “What?” He murmured. Although you were distracted now, realising how aroused you had become, your underwear clinging to you desperately. He was kissing the inside of your thigh now, fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and he was so close to where you wanted him you were trembling. He nosed his way to the apex of your thigh, groaning as he smelt you and then he was hastily tugging the lace down your legs, the last of your covering. Now you were totally naked in front of him, and he looked like he wanted to eat you up. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, voice gruff. He sounded so sexy. His eyes were glued to your centre yet he didn’t touch. When you didn’t reply, they flickered to your face. “Y/N. Hm?” 

You mind was a blur, you couldn’t think what to say, mainly because you wanted him to do anything and everything to you. You startled when he nosed the inside of your thigh, his hands sliding down your hips to grip the flesh underneath. “Taste you? Is that what you want?” He whispered, sending your insides somersaulting. He looked up as you nodded, and grinned. “You have to say it out loud, honey.” 

The bastard. He was teasing you. Trying to get under your skin. Your forced yourself to speak. “Taste me.” He hummed in response, pressing his mouth to your hip bone. You raised your tone, more determined. “Seokjin. Taste me.” 

He dived in. Placing gentle kisses up your slit, his lips ever so slightly brushing your clitoris. You moaned quietly, letting your eyes close as you laid back against the softest pillows you had ever felt. Your fists clutched the sheets, hips raising up when you felt the first wash of his tongue. Your breath caught, warmth turning you gooey. “Taste so good,” he mumbled into you – so quietly you wondered if you’d imagined it. 

You enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, quietly moaning intermittently before you felt the urge to take a peek. Opening your eyes and looking down your body, you saw Seokjin watching you, his eyes hungry. You quickly looked away, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth as a groan left you, your legs falling wider apart. The scene had been erotic but in all honesty you were feeling a little shy. It had been a long time since you’d had sex, so the idea of someone watching you so intimately made you feel funny. 

Seokjin was there to reassure you though. “Don’t look away, Y/N,” he murmured, pulling back to get your attention. “I want to see your face.” You looked again, watching him kneel low as he ran a hand up your thigh. His lips shone with your arousal. He looked beautiful. 

You moaned lowly when you felt him rub a finger at your entrance, and he watched you intently as he pushed inside, feeling you squeeze around the intrusion. He slowly began to curve the digit, pressing against your inner walls. Committed to pleasuring you, he watched your every reaction and this time you didn’t look away. 

“Does it feel good?” He asked, in awe as you writhed around on the bed, chasing the feeling. 

You moaned as you replied yes, only to jerk upwards when his thumb began to rub tiny circles against your clit. “Seokjin!” 

He liked that. Hearing you cry his name. He wanted to hear it more, dropping low to replace his thumb with his lips. He sucked the sensitive bud of nerves between them, flicking the tip of his tongue against it rapidly, earning him another cry, and he moaned gruffly against you, the vibrations shooting up your body. His free hand moved to your lower stomach, palm hot against your skin as he applied gentle pressure, holding you down. 

Oh god, you were a mass of pleasure, mind addled, unable to think straight. Not when he was making you feel so good. He slipped a second finger inside of you, his eyes flicking up to yours and you made it your life’s mission not to look away, chest heaving up and down as you squeezed around his digits. Your orgasm was building, pressure below getting harder to control – harder to ignore. Seokjin guessed it, breaking eye contact to bury his face further into your heat. The image was almost crude, so were the noises, but the most beautiful kind of crude. A crude that had you desperate for more. You jerked into him, rolling into each snap of his wrist, the pads of his fingers grazing your g-spot. 

“Want to make you cum,” he rasped, before sucking your clit back into his mouth and sucking determinedly. You groaned, head flinging back into the pillow, eyes clenched closed, a hand coming out to grip the roots of your hair as you rolled your hips into his face, giving into the pleasure well and truly. This orgasm was going to blow your brains out – and it did. 

In the end you had you to clamp your legs around Seokjin’s head in a bid to get him to stop, pleasure still rolling through your body as you panted like crazy. He eased from your clit, tongue dragging down your folds instead, meeting his fingers that were almost locked inside of your pulsing walls. With a grunt, he removed himself, kissing your mound one last time before he stopped. With his hands on your thighs as he kneeled between them, he watched you adoringly. 

“Oh, my god,” you panted weakly. Unsure what else you could say to describe what you’d just experienced. Why had he not been doing that from the get-go? From as soon as he’d reversed into your car?! 

That was all he needed anyway, your simple vocalisation, because no sooner had the words exited your mouth, he dived on you, kissing your mouth, your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead – whatever he could reach. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness. You could taste yourself on him. It was glorious. His hands roamed your body like it was all new to him. As if he hadn’t been it for the last forty minutes or so. “Fuck. I can’t stop touching you.”

Your stomach flipped around, the sound of him cursing sending you dizzy. You licked into his mouth, kissing him messily, your hands raking up and down his back, before they settled on his ass. You gave the meat a squeeze and he grunted, pushing his crotch into yours. He was painfully hard – and desperate. (You hadn’t missed the way he’d been rutting into the mattress while going down on you…)

“Seokjin,” you breathed, moving your head to the side to get your words out. His tongue carried on going, swirling across your cheek. You liked getting messy with him. You tugged at his underwear. “Get naked. Need you.” 

“You don’t need a minute?” He asked, tongue now in your ear. He gyrated his hips into yours, grunting as he did so. 

You shook your head. “Like hell I do.” 

He laughed at that – breathlessly, but it was something. He moved, rushing out of the last bit of clothing he had on, and your eyes drunk up the sight. The missing piece. His dick was long and thick – smooth and warm once you got your hands on him. Hovering over you, you ran your fist up and down him steadily, just enjoying getting to touch him. He dropped to your side, pecking your lips before he pulled back.  “I need to be inside you.” 

You continued to touch him, running your fingers along the rigid flesh as he stretched behind him to pull a box from the nightstand drawer. 

It caught your attention right away. You raised both eyebrows as you let go of his length. “A hundred condoms?” 

He chuckled, sounding a little sheepish. “Too enthusiastic?”

“Do you want to kill me?” Death by (Dilf) dick wasn’t how you’d expected to go, if you were being honest. 

“Not particularly,” he shrugged, pulling one of the packet. (Discarding the box to the floor.) He turned back to you with an impish grin. “That’s why I bought the bumper pack of condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest, but he grabbed your hand and kissed you, distracting you successfully. “No, if I’m being truthful,” he continued, letting you steal another kiss. “They were better value for money. I’m partial to a bargain.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed. 

“You should’ve seen me purchasing them, I have never been more embarrassed in my life.” 

“Seokjin, you’re a near 40 year old man,” you judged openly, however on second thoughts – “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed buying a 100 condoms too.” 

Seokjin shuddered, looking mortified. “Just the thought of the cashier knowing I was going to get lucky…” 

You arched an eyebrow. “Get lucky?”

He looked comically caught out, eyes wide for a second before he shook his head. “Less talking now…” And then he was kissing you again…

Between rushed mouths and eager hands, he managed to tear the condom packet, pulling out the latex to slip it over his erection. Kneeling over you, you could see perfectly when he attempted to roll it the wrong way up.  “Oh, shit. Ignore that,” he muttered, fixing it immediately. 

You stifled a laugh. “Ignored.” 

He gave himself a tug, making sure everything was secure and your mouth practically watered. “Just warning you now, this may be a three pumps and Bam! kinda thing,” he informed you as he laid over you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I am so turned on.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his middle. “I don’t mind. Just want you.” 

“I want you more.” He rubbed his nose against yours. 

Hitting his ass, you shot him a look. “It’s not a competition.” 

“Isn’t it?” He asked, pretending to be confused. 

“Quit stalling,” you whined. “Let’s have sex.” 

“Let’s,” he agreed with a warm smile. You turned gooey instantly. 

Pressing his knees to the mattress, he hovered over you, wrapping his hand around his dick to direct it between your legs. He rubbed the length up and down your slit, flesh heavy and hot, coating himself in your arousal. The sensation was good for you, but for him it seemed to blow his mind, eyes practically rolling back into his skull as he grunted. He stopped at your entrance, looking up at you as he slowly pushed the head inside. 

You shifted under him, trying to stay patient. You wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of him, but realistically you needed to take things slow. You held onto his shoulders, silently telling him to continue. He let out a strained groan as he slipped in deeper, your walls snug and hot around him, begging him for more. Inch by glorious inch, you kept on taking him, until you were filled up just right. 

“Shit,” you uttered, looking up at the ceiling as you adjusted to the sensation. 

“Was that a curse?” He asked, voice tight but greatly amused as he nosed your throat. 

“Hardly.” Your voice was barely there, desperate for him to move. 

“I’d still class it as swearing.” He was holding his breath, yet still felt the need to be a smarty-pants. You moved your hips practically a centimetre and he grunted. He didn’t want you to win though. “I want more. Maybe not tonight, but I will turn your mouth filthy by the end of the week…”

A moan tore from your throat uncontrollably, and you couldn’t look at his face because you knew you’d be met with a gloating smirk. You steeled yourself, nose in the air. “Game on.” 

Seokjin laughed obnoxiously, but couldn’t wait any longer, slowly dragging out of you and then pushing back in. His breath hitched – so did yours, and he carried on, propping himself up with one hand as he gained a steady rhythm. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned, watching your face. 

“You too.” You clung to him, feeling your face heat up and ended up dropping your gaze. 

“Honey, don’t be shy,” he whined, reaching to cup your face, in the process pressing more of his body weight into you. You clutched him tighter, wanting him as close as ever. “I like watching you. Knowing I’m making you feel good.” His mouth on yours now, you sunk into the kiss, moaning softly as his thrusts got quicker. You met each one, rolling into him. 

It wasn’t long before he was on your throat, kissing and nipping the skin, his hands exploring the rest of your body. Your ran your fingers through his hair, sighing sweety when his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, slipping the hard flesh into his mouth to suck. 

Face pressed against your chest, his movements became a little erratic, breathing heavy until he was panting. You moaned along, loving how he was making you feel. “You are honestly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He awed, voice raspy. 

You let out a weak chuckle, running your fingers through the ends of his hair. “Of course you would say that with a face full of my boobs.” 

He laughed too, kissing his way back up your chest, his hands pressing into the pillow as he leaned in for your mouth. You stared at one another for a little while, your moans mingling together, and it was the most intimate moment you’d ever shared with anyone. 

“Good?” He asked. You were unsure if he was asking how you were or if you were enjoying yourself, but regardless, the answer was the same. 

“Really good,” you smiled, running your hand down his chest. 

His thrust were getting messier, less controlled, less strategic, so it was no surprise when he had a confession to tell you, kissing you once again. “I’m-I’m… close.” 

He’d exceeded the predicted three pumps at least… “Hey, you can go a little harder,” you whispered against his mouth. 

He grunted, slacking at your words but quickly got a hold of himself. Each snap of his hips got firmer and harsher, fucking – because there was no other way to describe it – you into the expensive bed. Your cries of pleasure came out stunted and unsteady, his own grunts louder now, gruffer as he chased his end. 

“Seokjin –!” Your hands fell to his ass, holding him tight as he pounded into you. “Don’t stop,” you encouraged, which seemed to tip him over the edge – quickly. 

“Fuck. Coming…”” His face fell into the crook of your neck, panting as he tried to keep moving, and then he froze, his body hot, partly sweaty, a long drawn-out groan sounding against your ear as he came. 

You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him to you because in all honesty, you didn’t want to let him go. You could feel his heart beating against your chest rapidly, even after he’d partially caught his breath, and you knew yours was beating just as fast. You kissed his shoulder when he kissed yours, and slowly he lifted his head, turning to give you a drunken smile. He sighed contently. “That honestly beats any orgasm I’ve ever given myself lately.” 

“I should hope so!” You burst out laughing, not quite expecting those to be his first words and he immediately joined you before hugging you tight. 

.

.

You awoke naturally, light from outside peeking through the loosely closed drapes. Seokjin had his arm around you, his body curved into yours, and you could tell by his breathing he was still very much sound asleep. Proving your point, he grunted softly, rolling onto his back, his grip on you loosening. Carefully, you turned around to face him, taking in the sight of his sleeping form. His lips seemed to be pouted, eyebrows furrowed slightly – of course he had an adorable sleeping face. Of fricking course. 

The bed sheets were pushed down, draped across his pelvis, one hip sticking out, while his broad chest and toned stomach laid bare. You found yourself smiling, insanely happy, wondering if you’d been a saint in a past lifetime – you had to have been. How else had you hit the jackpot? A kind-hearted, beautiful man with a banging body? You’d struck big. 

Wanting to leave him sleep longer, you got up quietly, needing to pee, not worrying that you were butt naked, and as you left the bathroom, you moved to the closet (room) to fish for your phone in your purse. You’d left it there all evening yesterday, not wanting to be interrupted, and low and behold you had a bunch of notifications waiting for you on the screen. You got back into bed, getting comfy before you scrolled through them. Most were unimportant, news updates and social media notifications. You had a text from your mom reminding you to call your grandmother soon, one reminder regarding your phone bill going out tomorrow and then, from half an hour ago, a text message from your best friend. Why the hell was she up so early on a Sunday?! 

Soojung (8:32am) Spill the details girl! How was Mr. Dilf 🥵👨🏻🍆💦 

You snorted, pretty loudly, couldn’t help it, and when you realised you shoved a hand over your mouth, hoping you hadn’t woken your boyfriend (yes, it felt so good to finally use that word) up. You glanced over, but his eyes were still shut, a peaceful look on his face, so with a relieved inner sigh, you went back to your phone, wondering how you should reply. You had quite a lot to say, messaging her “the details” wouldn’t work. Maybe you could give her a summary? Until tomorrow when you could call her while Seokjin was at work. Maybe you could meet her for lunch. And who knew, you’d probably have more to tell her come then –

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

You jumped when you heard Seokjin’s voice, his arm wrapping around you once more as he snuggled closer, encasing you in his body warmth. 

“Seokjin,” you greeted, instantly shoving your phone onto the nightstand, face down. “Good morning.” 

“Mmm.” He rubbed his face into the crook of your neck, burrowing his arm under the covers to touch your skin, hand cupping your waist. He was still sleepy, voice groggy. You settled into his hold, closing your eyes. With a kiss to the top of your shoulder, he spoke again.  “What were you snorting at?”

Your eyes immediately flew open. He’d heard that? “Nothing,” you tried to reply casually. 

He laughed, the throaty sound shooting up your body, leaving warmth in its wake. “Come on, something made you laugh.” He lifted his head, looking at you pointedly, plump lips pressed together, mouth curving up slightly. “You have to share, it’ll be rude not to.” 

It took you a second to give in. “Fine.” It was probably time to let him know anyway. Soojung might try to kill you, but she couldn’t get you if you were gated in at Seokjin’s home…  You reached for your phone and flashed the screen on, holding it out to him. “Soojung’s an idiot,” you sighed. 

He delicately held the back of your hand, steadying the device so he could read the messages. A second later he was deeply amused, lips quirking before he let out a little laugh. “Has that been my nickname the entire time?” 

“Maybe…” Amongst other things… They could wait till later though. 

He hummed, trying to keep his expression casual, but you could tell by his eyes how amused (and smug) he was. “The emojis add a nice touch.” 

You rolled your eyes, about to tell him to shut up, but immediately his lips were pressed against yours. He kissed you sweetly – which was all just an act. When he pulled away, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, tone arrogant. “So… how was Mr. Dilf?”

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed. This couldn’t be happening. He was just as bad as Soo and Taehyung. 

Laughing loudly, he kissed you again, caging you under him smoothly. Your hands reached for his biceps, feeling them flex underneath you. “Was it good enough for a round two? Don’t expect me to keep my hands off you,” he told you, his fingers tickling your stomach as his face fell to your neck, kissing and biting the skin. 

You began to laugh, squirming under him, but no matter how much you tried to free yourself it was impossible. “Stop,” you whined. “Seokjin, you’re tickling me!” He eased off with the tickling but his mouth only seemed to ramp up, his tongue licking up your throat. “You’re so sexy,” he groaned, meeting your gaze, and instantly laughed. “I love embarrassing you.” 

You grumbled, realising you’d started to blush. “I’m not embarrassed,” you insisted. “I’m turned on.” Two could play at that game. Seokjin’s eyes widened comically, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

“Yeah?” He murmured, getting a hold of himself, mouth ghosting over yours. You nodded, dragging your hands down his back to settle on his ass. You could feel his dick rousing between your thighs. It was so easy to get him. He was like putty in your hands. 

“You’re okay though, mm?” He asked, tone softening as he stared into your eyes. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“I thought that was obvious,” you informed him, but his tenderness didn’t go ignored. God, you were really lucky. “I feel so happy,” you grinned, moving to clasp your arms around his neck. He grinned too, teeth on show, and then you couldn’t hold off any longer, kissing him eagerly.  

“Fuck,” he breathed, after you’d just licked a strip up his jaw line. His hands clung to hips. “I want you in so many ways.” 

You gave him a dangerous smirk. “We have all week, I’m sure you’ll be successful.” 

Groaning, he seemed beside himself, skin hot and sweaty, his hair dishevelled, falling into his eyes, cheeks patched red. Finally, he settled on a decision. “Would you like to shower with me?”

“Okay,” you replied instantly, your excitement already tenfold, and suddenly you were in his arms, rising off the bed to be carried (naked) bridle style to the bathroom. “Seokjin!” You squealed, clinging onto him tightly, but all he did was laugh. You could get used to this. 

His walk-in shower was grand, practically a separate wet room – two glass doors leading inside and a marbled tiled bench to the left with two panelled windows behind it. There were two showerheads – one large one attached to the ceiling and the other jutting out from the wall. Seokjin chose the centre one, knocking it on and enclosing you both in hot water. Warmth radiated from beneath your feet too – heated flooring, of course. 

You spent the next ten minutes wrapped together kissing, hands exploring one another’s soapy bodies. It wasn’t long before there was a very obvious erection bobbing against your stomach. “Someone says hello again,” Seokjin hummed against your mouth, nipping your bottom lip before he broke away and chuckled. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve been the cause of many an awkward boner.” 

You laughed, hooking one arm around his neck. “I noticed.” Your other hand wrapped around his dick, the wetness of his skin making it easy to glide your fist along the veiny shaft. You gazed up at him, admiring the way he’d pushed his wet hair above his forehead. He looked incredibly handsome – so handsome, you were finding it hard to control yourself. “Was this one of your ways?” You murmured. 

“Maybe,” he said with a smile, huffing out a little when your thumb grazed the sensitive slit across the head of his member. 

“I have a better idea…” You whispered, pushing a little at his chest. “Sit.” 

He obeyed, sitting on the bench while watching you wordlessly (but curiously), his eyes flashing when you moved to kneel in front of him. “Fuck,” he muttered, dick twitching in anticipation. You took him in your fist again, feeling oddly confident as you flicked out your tongue. It had been a long time since you’d sucked dick but you were more than ready. 

You washed your tongue across the head, hearing him grunt above you, and encouraged, you took him in your mouth, sucking firmly around the tip. His hands instantly reached for your head, fingers carding through your hair. He groaned lowly, thighs tense, but when you started to jerk your fist along his shaft, he relaxed into the pleasure, murmuring your name. 

“Okay, this idea seems better than mine,” he admitted, voice tight. 

You hummed in agreement, vibrations travelling up his length which made him groan, fingers in your hair tightening. Taking him deeper, you washed and swirled your tongue as best you could around the thick flesh. Seokjin’s length was impressive, but you had all week to grow accustomed to it, for now, you had your hand, continuing to stimulate him with both that and your mouth. The water from the shower hit your back and calves, the heat beneath you making sure you didn’t grow cold. 

“Should we go back to the bedroom?” Seokjin asked, sounding concerned, despite how good you were making him feel. A hand ran down your back soothingly. “Your knees will start aching.” 

Pulling off him, a string of saliva that attached you breaking apart, you shook your head and ran your palm all the way up his length, twisting against the tip. He bucked into your hold. “It’ll be worth it.” 

Seokjin let out a low growl, eyes dark. “Don’t say things like that.” 

You smirked, spreading your saliva up and down him slowly before speeding up, concentrating on the head. Seokjin’s mouth was open, his breathing shallow, chest littered with red blotches, making it painfully obvious how aroused he was. You wanted to run your hands all over the muscular torso, mouth too – but that could wait. First of all, you wanted to make him cum. 

“You have a pretty big dick. Has anyone ever told you that?” You purred, eyes flicking down to his crotch. 

Seokjin grinned confidently, the hand in his hair reaching to cup your cheek. “You seemed to handle it very well last night.” 

Oh. Heat exploded through your body, settling between your legs, and you took him back in your mouth, a hiss leaving his throat. He tapped your chin, gaining your attention. “Y/N, look at me,” he commanded softly. 

And you did. You watched every bit of pleasure that flitted across his face as you continued to suck his dick, never breaking eye contact, even when he did; eyelids closed, face scrunched up as he came down your throat a few minutes later…

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Anything else, Mr. Barber?

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, cheating, coercion, blow job, somniphilia, abuse of power, no edit.

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Andy Barber is fed up with his tardy assistant.

Based on these drabble requests: 

Andy Barber + somniphilia + “You’re late.” + Andy waking up the reader with sex. 

Andy Barber + losing a bet + “do it or I’ll make you.” + Reader bets on something she's confident about, and agrees (ig?) to go down on Andy if she loses. When she inevitably loses, she's reluctant… 

Andy Barber + “Do it or I’ll make you.” + abuse of power + Andy wants his cock sucked by his young assistant, but she's a little reluctant. 

Andy Barber + “Why are you crying?” + Somniphilia + Something where he forces himself on her and she doesn’t wake up until the end 

You knocked with your elbow before the voice came from the other side of the door, staunch and irritated. Fuck, you were late again. It wasn’t your fault, the cafe was crowded and your boss hated the vending machines river water. You let yourself in but Andy didn’t even look up as you entered.

You put the paper cup down as you greeted him, “Mr. Barber.”

“You’re late,” he kept his eyes on the folder in front of him.

“I got held up at--”

He took the cup and sniffed the brim. He scrunched his lips and sat up, his eyes meeting yours at last.

“Cream or milk?” he frowned.

“Milk, like always,” you wisped, your heart still beating from your frantic race to the office.

He took a sip and put it back heavily. He swallowed stiffly and cleared his throat.

“You sure?��� he gave a fickle grimace, “tastes like cream.”

“I swear I ordered milk--”

“Just like you said yesterday you wouldn’t be late again.”

“I tried, I--”

“No more excuses,” he crossed his arms, “you’re late one more time and you owe me.”

“I’ll stay late tonight,” you offered.

“No, we’ll see,” he shifted in his chair, “if you can keep track of time, maybe we won’t have to.”

“I’m sorry--”

“You have work to catch up on,” he interrupted again and dropped his arms, he leaned back and grabbed a paper from the pile, “go on.”

You left and sighed as you closed the door behind you. You went to your desk, only a few feet from his office and took off your jacket. You really tried to be on time but Andy just didn’t seem to realise that his last minute texts for you to head down to the archives or to hit the coffee shop weren’t helping. That or he just didn’t care.

You booted your computer and fished around for a pen in your bag. Your leg jiggled as you thought about the next day, maybe if you left earlier you might avoid another slip-up.

☕

A week. A whole week and every day you were right on time. Andy couldn’t complain as you brought him his dark roast with milk and his documents in their acrid folders. It cost you some sleep and some early morning road rage, but he had nothing to gripe about as you met him with a smile.

It didn’t last. You hit a train at midtown and that threw your whole day off. Usually you missed it as the freight came at the same time every morning. The universe liked to see you fail.

Again you entered after a knock. Andy didn’t say anything as you set down his cup and you hesitated to leave as you waited for his reproach. Still nothing. You went to the door and his chaired squeaked.

“Before you leave tonight, we need to talk,” he snarled.

“Yes, Mr. Barber,” you pulled the door open.

“I need the Hanson files copied,” you heard him toss the envelope and you turned around.

“Will do,” you neared and took the manila casing.

“Collated and stapled,” he stared you down, “now go. I’m done wasting time.”

You retreated and flinched as the door clicked behind you. You pushed your head back and cringed. Fucking train.

☕

This time, Andy was late. It wasn’t unusual that his hearings ran long but you knew if you left, it would be worse. The elevator dinged and you watched the doors. He stepped out and bid a goodbye to whoever else was within. He didn’t even glance at you as he quieted and swept by your desk.

He snapped his fingers as he opened the door to his office and you stood. You felt like a dog, your tail between your legs as you followed.

“Close the door,” he said and you obeyed again.

He dropped his bag against his desk and sat. He rolled the chair back as he spread his legs wide and stretched his arms behind his head. He rubbed his eyes and his hands fell onto his thighs. He tilted his head and his jaw twitched as you faced him nervously.

“How many times do we have this conversation?”

“Please, there was a train--”

“Always something. The whole world is against you,” he scowled. “Well, I’m done with warnings. You were late and you owe me.”

“Mr. Barber--”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been thinking about it all day, how to settle this all,” his lips curved slightly, “we had a deal. You’re late, you pay.”

You were silent and slightly confused. You gulped and his fingers tapped on his pants. You winced as suddenly he gripped his belt buckle and unhooked it.

“Mr--”

“Get over here,” he said.

“Wha--”

“We’re done talking, so get over here and show me you want this job,” he sneered, “because it really doesn’t seem like you do.”

“No, I-- you can’t--”

“Do it or I’ll make you,” he shifted as he reached down his dress pants and pushed down his pale blue boxers.

“Mr.--”

“You make me real tired of repeating myself and if I have to again, this conversation and your time here is over,” his eyes bore into you and you wavered on your feet.

You took a careful step, waiting for him to stop you, waiting for him to tell you he was kidding. He didn’t and you took another and another until you were behind his desk. He turned his chair to face you and stroked himself above his open fly. Your lips parted as you couldn’t help but stare.

“I don’t have to tell you how to suck it, do I?” he taunted.

You inhaled and grabbed the desk as you got to your knees. He kept playing with himself as he wheeled closer. He angled his dick forward and tapped your lips as you bent over him. You let out your breath and opened your mouth. You wetted the tip with your tongue before you stretched your lips around it.

His hand fell from his dick and went to the back of your head. He urged you down and groaned as he felt the resistance at the back of your throat. You choked as he forced himself deeper and you breathed through your nose. His other hand went to your shoulder as he guided your motion, slowly at first.

The sloppy noise of your mouth filled the office and you gripped the top of his pants as you struggled to keep going. Your eyes watered and the droplets hovered along your lashes. He moved you fast and moaned as his fingertips swirled over your scalp.

“That’s it,” he said, “knew you must be good for something.”

You murmured around his dick and he hissed. Your throat constricted around him as you gagged and he shoved your head down over and over.

“Don’t make a mess now,” he purred.

He pulled you back and slammed you down all at once. He held you there and rolled his hips as he jerked and came down your throat. You let out a pathetic sputter and gasped as you gulped down his salty cum. Your throat milked his dick and he sighed as he eased out of your mouth.

You fell back and caught yourself on your hands. He rubbed his thighs and stared down at his wet cock, “whew, well, let’s hope you’re late again tomorrow.”

☕

You weren’t late again but that only seemed to make Andy’s temper worse. Even as you arrived before him, he seemed irked by your very existence. He got his coffee, his files, and anything else he could think to demand. You got your peace even if it wasn’t entirely that.

You were tired all the time. You made double sure to be at the office a full hour before your start and you even stayed late, just in case he wanted to punish you for leaving without his say so.

Several weeks passed but things didn’t get better, especially as each time you walked into his office, you felt him in your throat, heard his dark moans. 

That day was no different as you waited for him and his black jacket flapped against you as he brushed past you without so much as a good morning. You turned and followed him into his office and put his coffee down. He shook his head and sat.

He took a drink and grimaced. “Cold,” he muttered.

“Sorry, Mr. Barber, I--”

“Go,” he waved you off.

You swallowed your voice and went. You sat at your desk and heard a sudden splat and the hollow clatter of the coffee cup. Was he mad at you? About what? You were early everyday, you got him everything he asked for, you did your job, you lived at work… what more could he want?

☕

When his assistant wasn’t late the next day, Andy was smug. He’d taught her her place and gotten off in the process.

At first, he’d nearly slapped himself for the idea. He knew it was wrong but he was tired of her being late, tired of being unhappy about everything in his life. Laurie barely looked at him as she brought her work home, Jacob was too busy with his friends to need his dad, and this woman couldn’t even bring him his coffee on time.

It was a simple solution to two problems. It eased both his stress over his errant employee and the neglect of his marriage. It didn’t last, but she wasn’t late again. Even after a week, even after two, then three. His frustration returned and so did his need.

He couldn’t look at her. Everytime he did, he saw her on her knees, head bobbing over his lap, and heard those delightful noises. She made him want it again but he didn’t know how to get her again. It was easy to justify it with her missteps but when she behaved, it made him feel rotten.

That, however, did not keep him from getting hard whenever she called him Mr. Barber or her eye lingered on him a little too long.

He didn’t know what to do, so that day, he stayed late at the courthouse. He called the office and told her to go, otherwise she would wait for him. If anything, his lesson had been effective in teaching her the importance of punctuality.

But even as he drove home, he kept thinking of her. He stopped at the corner of his street as the streetlights turned on and stared down at the dark shape of Laurie’s car. He took out his phone and dialed.

“Andy,” Laurie answered.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late, things… I’m just all tied up. I’ll be a while,” he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Fine,” she answered curtly, “see you in the morning?”

“Uh huh,” he sat up, they both knew it was an empty promise.

He headed back to the office. He searched through the old filing cabinet and pulled out the resume; hers. He read the address at the top. He hoped she hadn’t moved since then. He keyed it into his phone and got out the doors right before the cleaners locked up.

He drove to her building and sat outside. He watched the front and as less people came, he knew he had to act. He reached behind his seat and grabbed the empty paper bag from his lunch. He puffed it up and took off his suit jacket. He went to his trunk and took out the hoodie he kept for emergencies.

He ran up the steps of the building as a woman unlocked the door. He waved to her and called out, “hey,” she turned back as the door buzzed and she opened it, “you don’t mind holding that? I’ve been waiting for an answer for twenty minutes and… he waved the bag, “it’s getting cold.

“Oh, whatever,” she let him grab the door and he smiled, enlivened by his own act.

“Thanks,” he followed and watched her disappear onto the elevators.

He repeated the number in his head, 310, 310, 310…

He took the stairs up to the third floor and left the bag against a railing. He stepped into the hall and counted the doors to hers. He listened through the wood, he could hear her television. He tried the handle but it didn’t budge.

He exhaled and reached into his pocket for his keys. He still had the pocket knife from the days when Jacob was in the scouts. He remembered the trick his dad had taught him, one of many he couldn’t forget. He unfolded the nail file and jammed it in the slot.

He wiggled and the door opened as the handle almost cracked in his grip. He peeked around and pushed inside. He expected her to gasp, maybe even to scream, but she didn’t even sit up.

The deadbolt was loose, broken from his intrusion. He put the chain in place instead and approached the back of the couch. Again he braced himself for her shock. She was asleep. The coffee table was littered with a styrofoam container, a wine glass, and a half empty bottle.

He stopped and stared down at her. He tucked away the knife and took off the hoodie. He paced, hoping she’d wake up and scare him out of what he was thinking off. He had come this far, hadn’t he? He couldn’t stop now. He wouldn’t.

He unbuttoned his shirt and as he got to the last, he paused. He should go home but what was there but a silent and sleepless night beside his wife. He folded the shirt over the chair and took off his leather shoes. He rolled off his socks and stood straight. He unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down with his boxers.

He was hard and hurting. He went to the couch and sidled between it and the coffee table. He grabbed the wine bottle and swigged. For courage. His nerves were jittering as he looked down at her dark blue tee. It was longer and reached halfway down her thighs. He only ever saw her in her blouses and her skirts, a bit clueless but always put together.

He touched her leg lightly and cautiously bent it. She breathed loudly but didn’t rouse. He straightened her leg and reached under her shirt. He tugged the panties down and untangled them from her feet, watching her face with each move.

He moved her leg over the edge of the couch and got on his knees beside the other. He tickled along the hem of her shirt and bent over her, holding himself up on the arm as he stroked his dick. She was going to wake up.

He didn’t care, he needed to fuck her. He pushed against her and slid his dick back until he found her entrance. He watched himself as he thrust into her in a single motion. Her body jolted and she grumbled. He smelled the wine on her breath but she stayed asleep.

He rocked his hips and hummed at the sensation of her walls around him. He dipped into her over and over, a smooth rhythm as it got easier with each tilt of his hip. He focused on his dick gliding in and out of her as he grasped the collar of her tee in his hand.

He sped up as he felt the ecstasy bubbling inside of him. His flesh slapped against her loudly and her leg dangled against his thigh. He closed his eyes and pushed his head back as he let out a long groan. So close, so close, and all he could focus on was his climax, even as he heard her surprised voice and felt her hands bounce of his chest.

“Andy!” she cried out.

He crashed into her and she shoved against him. Her legs bent around him and she wriggled helplessly. She sobbed and he bucked one last time as he came. He spilled into her as her walls squeezed him.

“Call me Mr. Barber,” he purred as he held himself completely inside of her.

He opened his eyes as he heard her sob. He looked down and stroked her cheek. She turned her head away from him and smacked away his hand.

“Why are you crying?” he asked and pushed against her until she whimpered.

☕☕☕

Please reblog and leave some feedback if you enjoyed.

[that-blue-vault-dweller]

(If you have the time) Companions react to Sole finding a container of glitter and causing absolute chaos? This is sadly based on true events with my friends lol

Woah!!! That sounds like you have some really fun (and probably potentially frustrating) friends 😂 Fortunately, I try to keep everyone I know away from glitter. But there are no guarantees that the fake snow that you can buy from places like Walmart and whatnot won't find themselves on glass stuff everywhere. 😅👍

Thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoy!!! 🥰💙💛

Cait - When she finds her shoe filled with glitter at the bottom, she at first thinks that one of F!Sole's other companions had done it. However, when she figures out that F!Sole did it, she wastes no time in sneaking up behind F!Sole and dumping the glitter out of her shoe all over F!Sole's head.

Piper - Honestly thinks that Nat was the one that coated her sweets in glitter. But when she figures out it was her Blue? Oh, it is on. She makes sure to find some glitter of her own and at the next dinner when F!Sole leaves to wash up, Piper covers her food in glitter. When F!Sole comes back, she is met with a sparkling steak.

Curie - Is very surprised to find her mole rat claws positively covered in glitter. It is quite frustrating for her, but she does not retaliate. In fact, she tries to give F!Sole a good talking to. But F!Sole just can't stop laughing at her.

MacCready - Is very, very aggravated when she glues a little sparkliness onto his gun. Fortunately, it is pretty easy to get off, so he does not stay mad about it for long. He takes it pretty well, and actually even puts a little on her gun in return when they're on the road, getting a childish glee out of seeing her shocked face when she pulls out her prized handgun with it shining like a disco ball as the raiders around laugh and make fun of her.

Deacon - Is not angry at all when he finds glitter wonderglued to his sunglasses. He just puts them on, commenting that he looks very fancy. However, the next day, F!Sole finds her vault suit with newly added glittering accents all over it. There is an especially large amount lining her butt to bring extra attention to it. Naturally, she does her best to scrub it all off as soon as possible.

Codsworth - Is endlessly aggravated despite never having a glitter prank played on him. He is the one having to clean up after the glitter messes made everywhere, and he is frustrated as can be with F!Sole and the whole situation. While he does like the fact that it gives him something to do, he does not appreciate how it somehow always leaves its remains in places that no one would anticipate.

Hancock - Is laughing a little when he sees his box of mentats with "rotgut" written in glitter on the outside. However, when he opens the box and there is so much glitter inside that it is overfilling, he is quiet for a moment. In the end, he can't help but laugh, the whole thing just rolling off of him pretty easily. Since it's her, he does not aim to get any revenge. But if anyone else had done it, he would definitely stab them.

Danse - Is somewhere between bumfuzzled and very angry to find his power armor filled with glitter. He has no idea how she even found enough glitter to fill it, but she somehow managed it and when he opens the back of it, it all comes flowing out in a giant pile. He makes sure to have a long talk with her about keeping glitter away from serious equipment.

Preston - Cannot help but laugh a little and roll his eyes when he sees that she has glitterfied his scarf. He gets a little worried, though, when he sees that it is difficult to get off of the scarf. By the time he is done cleaning it, there is a bit of glitter left that makes it sparkle just a little, but it is mostly just a memory.

Valentine - Is very unimpressed when he finds that she has sprinkled quite a bit of glitter inside his hat when he took it off a while back and now that he puts it on, glitter is falling down his head and his face. He quickly figures out that it was her behind the whole thing, but he does not retaliate. His sheer sternness as he stares F!Sole down is plenty enough to make her feel very guilty about doing it to him.

X6-88 - Honestly does not know what to think when he finds his courser uniform lined in glitter. He is honestly quite irked by it, but he is somehow attracted to the look at the same time. However, it also makes him look less professional, but it is fancy. He is very conflicted.

Dogmeat - When she ties a glittery bandana around his neck, he is thrilled since she seems so happy. He does not really care what it looks like, but he is just happy to wear any bandana or collar since that makes him feel like he belongs to her.

Strong - Does not even flinch and just stares when she throws glitter onto his chest, the stuff falling and sticking to him all over as the sweat beads on him from his time out in the sun. He tilts his head oddly, looking down at it as he picks at it a little, his brow furrowed even more than usual. After a long moment, he asks if tiny human is trying to make him pretty.

[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!

[tadpole-san]

Hi again! I’m the user that recently asked abt Klarion lol. Could I request a Klarion x Reader (one shot or head canon is cool I’m not picky) where they have an established relationship and live together? Klarion, despite being a Lord of Chaos, wouldn’t dare hurt his s/o, but does enjoy pranking them. I was thinking he could do a small prank for this one, like moving one of his s/o’s things inch by inch until it ends up in a different room or something? :)

pairing: klarion x reader, pre-established relationship

a/n: I’m so sorry this took like,,, a longass time anon! I deadass had this drafts sitting as an open tab on my Docs for a longass time between school and everything else because i am, unfortunately, a second semester highschool junior :(

This is my first time doing headcanons on this blog, i hope you like it! I also took this ask as an excuse to rebinge all three seasons of yj for klarion content. ANYWAYS, enjoy this combination of general living with Klarion hcs and what happens when he pranks you

Have you seen the guy’s hair? He both looks and acts like a devil - the mischievous fun kind, not the kind that’ll try to eat your soul (but when you poke fun at him for his “horns” he does throw a bit of a tantrum and threaten to do that. Since he’s the Lord of Chaos and all) and living with him is guaranteed to be like living with the kind of imp trickster you’d read about in a story book

And with his magic? Definitely uses them like he’s an imp - one of his favorite pastimes has been to use them to play little tricks on you. They’re still harmless, and the worst they’ve done is inconvenience you, like whenever you’d have an outfit planned out for whatever you have going on during the day and he uses his magic to change all the colors into something wildly inappropriate for whatever it is you have planned

You don’t ever get really mad at him, but you will roll your eyes and sometimes be a little annoyed depending on how far he goes, and to get back at him you’ll usually hog Teekl and take him to your room while you lock Klarion out (even though he can technically use his magic to get into the room anyways) and pretend to ignore Klarion while he whines about being totally neglected outside

This doesn’t usually last that long because you tend to cave in and let him in with you and Teekl

He’ll then proceed to drape himself all over you - not unlike a cat - and get into some sort of one-sided argument with Teekl about stealing your attention from him. You always end up having to pull Teekl away from him when he lunges at the cat (“Babe, you need Teekl if you wanna stay in this dimension” “He’s pure evil!” “And we can unpack your feeling about this some other day when you’re less inclined to throttle the cat-”)

He talks in his sleep- a lot. His chaos-addled mind already has him saying stuff like “holy carp” and “see ya later, armadillos” and things get even weirder when he’s asleep. The result? You’ve subsequently picked up these sayings for yourself and you mutter them around… a lot. Your coworkers have given you weird looks, but they’ve taken it for the equivalent of Robin’s “holy ____ Batman”, and at this point, it’s better than explaining that no, you’re not from Gotham, and your boyfriend is actually technically the supervillain Lord of Chaos from a different dimension

“I guess I’m from Gotham” is also a pretty good explanation as to why you’d show up to work in a hot pink shirt and neon green pants. At this point, this particular prank of Klarion’s with his magic and your clothes is one of the regular almost-daily ones

The more you had to show up to work looking like - well, a literal clown - a lot of the days, the more irked you got about it; but the more often it happened was the more you saw Klarion actually brighten up and laugh when you had to go to work instead of generally sulk the way he would when you had to leave for hours on end. So that made it pretty worth it to start getting an extra pair of normal clothes ready in your car

Another one of his favorite pranks to play is to mass-duplicate random things in your apartment - like you’ll open your closet, expect to see a neon rainbow from your old clothes greeting you, and instead dozens of clothes racks will just tumble out

The first time it happened, you think your brain literally short-circuited, and Klarion found you staring at the pile at your feet

“Babe - I don’t really know what to do with this - thank you?”

That definitely wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, but he gets smug about it anyways - “you should be grateful that a Lord of Chaos such as myself would do this for you!” - and then he takes it as a sign to do it at random intervals

He’ll do it with literally anything, but he does know to definitely avoid the kitchen after you open the cupboard and a dozen identical bowls nearly fell on your head

Hearing your subsequent shriek and onslaught of swearing is what alerts Klarion to your impending dilemma, and right at the last second he’s able to freeze them in midair and save you from an inevitable concussion (and probably worse)

Lesson learned the hard way: kitchen is off limits, along with anything above eye-level

He won’t admit it, but the incident freaks him out enough that he literally hovers around you for the next few days, in midair, and when you’re at work, Teekl will “magically” show up in your office

The pranks even stop completely for the next few days - he’s definitely spooked, even if he’ll never admit it out loud, and he plays it off as throwing a tantrum that the prank didn’t work the way he wanted it to

But it’s easy for you to see past his somewhat “childish” front. You also know well enough that if you confront him on it it’ll lead to a cycle of denial, more tantrums, and finally, denial

And you love him, and you don’t like seeing him worry in his own way (hell, it’s even affecting the things he says at night) so it’s more than easy for you to cave in after a few days

“Damn, I could really use dozens of the same exact clothes hanger to completely overrun my closet. It’s a real shame I don’t know any magic to do it, huh?”

Is it the easiest trick in the book? Yes. Does it work? Absolutely. And it brings a smile back to his face, even if it’s at the expense of your poor sanity at times - but that’s still part of what comes from living with him, and you honestly wouldn’t trade it for anything else

DC Taglist: 

@cipheress-to-k-pop

[smolla-than-a-bug]

you’re definitely flirting with me

—jason todd x villain!reader

second and final part to are you flirting with me. can be read as a stand-alone tho

navi | bat boys m.list | are you flirting with me

content — language, blood, mentions of harassment, mildly suggestive (use of the word ‘daddy’ but ironically)

notes — i know that its literally been years and that i formerly posted a part two to are you flirting with me, but looking back, i didn't like how it turned out. i did find a fun drabble in my drafts with villain!reader as well, so i decided to rewrite it and use it as a continuation. i actually deleted the old parts personally, i prefer this version of the end!

"I'm in."

"Hot. You should be able to see–"

"Nothing?"

Silence.

"Is this your way of telling me you're visually impaired?"

"I will scoop your eyes out in your sleep."

"Please use an ice cream scooper. My eyeballs would fit so well, it would be so satisfying–"

"Harper."

"Okay, okay. What do you mean nothing?"

"By nothing I mean nothing, ball sack. The warehouse is fucking empty."

Frantic rustling of papers and violent knocking of objects could be heard on Roy's end of the line. Jason sighed, going to pinch the bridge of his nose before realizing he had a helmet on. 

The whole situation was throwing him off his rhythm — that much was evident. The intel they had collected on the gang of criminals seemed too obvious, too predictable. Jason had his suspicions, but Roy was quick to shut him down. 'Dude, trust me,' he said. Famous last words.

A crackle of static sounded in his earpiece. Roy's voice urgent and choppy before completely dying out. Jason could only attempt to call out to his partner in the hopes of a full response, but his efforts brought no avail. That's another thing that went wrong today.

"Hey, sexy."

What in the fuck.

"Your ass looks great from this angle. The party you're looking for is in a bar on the other side of the city, by the way."

You couldn't actually see him, but he doesn't need to know that. It's just your thing to mess with him, and by the sounds of him cussing you out for hacking into his means of communication, it was working. It was amusing. He kept you entertained.

That was all you had to say to him for now though, so you bid him goodbye. The roaring of his motorcycle over his colorful language directed at you was the last thing you heard before you cut off and allowed his partner to get back on the line.

"Jaybird? You there?"

"Ah, you're back. I'm never trusting you with getting intel again."

"Whatever. Anyway, was that...?"

"Yeah. Y/v/n."

"Hm. I don't know what she's on, but you have no ass like–"

"And yet I have more ass than you, so shut the fuck up, paddle board."

“That... That was a bit harsh, bro.”

Soft gushes of wind blew against your masked face. You shut your eyes, feeling the breeze and relishing in your little moment of peace. Lazily pacing, you hummed a random tune.

Your mischief and cunningness is something your alias was known for. Most often, it's a convenient trait to be able to slip around with ease and get the job done in a snap, but sometimes you get bored. It can be such a drag when nobody tries a confrontation with you. That's why you're so fond of the Red Hood. It's a shame that it's been a while since you've seen him around, so imagine your delight when you feel a familiar presence behind you.

You took a seat at the edge of the building. To anyone, you would've looked like you were having your main character moment, peacefully looking over the city if not for the small pile of bodies rotting away not too far from you. The dried blood on your attire and your fingers no longer irked you in the slightest. It's something you've gotten used to, which lead to your habit of picking the blood under your nails. Red gets annoyed when you do this — all the more reason to entertain your habit in front of him.

You let your legs dangle over the edge without a care. You didn't bother to greet the vigilante, who currently had a gun aimed at your back. Sigh.

“Oh, I do hate the sight of blood.”

“Well then, maybe — just maybe — you shouldn’t kill for a living.”

That got you to turn your head to face him. You cock an eyebrow — doesn’t he kill for a living too? Sure, his victims are usually criminals and thugs while yours are people you’re paid to target, usually business owners and the occasional politician, but you digress. Details. The point is, he kills people too.

A few seconds of staring and prolonging the tension passed, and Jason weighed his options before eventually putting down his gun. He then opted to join you on the ledge.

“So,” he started, “what’s your favorite color?”

Funny.

“Sweetheart, if you thought you’d be able to keep me entertained with small talk... I think I’d rather you shot me.”

You stood up from your spot on the ledge and leaned over the rooftop to examine your altitude. You grin to yourself.

“What are you doing?”

You don’t answer. You want to see something. Instead you turn your body to face Jason and mockingly salute him before leaping off the building, though not before you heard him call out your alias’ name and yell a panicked ‘Wait!’

Immediately after you, Jason followed. You chuckled when you saw him get closer. You enjoyed fooling him around almost as much as you enjoyed fooling around with him.

With no time to waste, he pulled out his grappling hook, yanked your body by the waist, and zipped to the rooftop of the nearest building — one different from the last one you were on.

Jason‘s heaving chest radiated distress.

“You’re fucking insane! You could have died!”

You stood in front of him, arms crossed and your stance relaxed. Nobody would’ve suspected that you literally jumped off a building just a few seconds ago. Aw, you pout, he cares about me.

“Would’ve made your job easier. You know, you heroes are supposed to get rid of the bad guys.”There’s humor in your eyes. Jason knows you’re enjoying this. He hates how much you enjoy this. “So, why’d you save me?”

“Why’d you help me with my mission last time?”

He’s deflecting. Cute.

“Hey, I asked you a question first.” You know he won’t budge til you give him an answer. He’s probably been asking himself that question since it happened. You mentally pout, aww he thinks of me. Sigh. Okay, fine.

“The gang you were after just so happened to have given me a job a little while ago.” You recall some of the gang members attempting to grope you. Some unpleasant memories you’d rather live without. “Pissed me off. Now your turn.”

Why’d you save me?

A pause. He shifted to look to the side. Oh, this is interesting.

“You could have died.” Ah, this again.

“Well, you’ve died,” you remind him. “Not that it really stuck.”

He says your name — your real name. You wonder when he discovered your identity, but then again, you’re not all that surprised. It’s him after all.

He can see your growing smile the longer he refuses to answer your question. He knows you’re already thinking of something, and still opts to ignore your question, allowing you to further indulge in your thoughts. He dreads you enlightening him; he knows it’s coming. Jason could not fathom how one woman could frustrate him so much.

“You like me.” There it is, he thinks. There’s your stupid smirk and your dumb air of arrogance.

“Come on, just admit it, hot shot. You can’t live without me.” Okay, maybe that one’s a bit of a stretch (just a bit), but you stand by it nonetheless.

You grin wide as you approach him. Leaning slightly forward to grab Jason by the collar and pull him down to meet your eyes, you repeat yourself.

“You like me.” Stated with more emphasis, like a significant fact that you try to drill into your head when studying for an exam.

“I’ll shoot you.”

“Please, daddy.”

© smolla-than-a-bug, 2021. please do not copy or repost my works. reblogs are appreciated!

tags — @iwriteaboutstuff @comicsgirlimagines @httpfandxms

[ellitx]

Venti with a porn stash is so legit! He would. Probably watches hentai, too. Can you imagine Himmel catching his younger twin watching porn!? Himmel just immediately walks out the room blushing. But Venti isn't even phased by Himmel walking in on him. Lol I can't

Himmel will just think that it’s natural for his brother to be like this. It’s just his phase of wanting to be in a relationship or wanting to know more about sex, that’s all.

But there are times he often comes in their shared room and he sees his brother still binge watching/reading them even after coming home from uni. Like did Venti just stay here all day to finish everything?!

I can imagine Venti is up to date with the latest issues of his fave porn magazine lol and poor Himmel can see all those stacked magazines underneath his bed and some of them are poking out that he can see the erotic cover.

Moving on, Himmel is a neat freak and he’s mostly the one cleaning the room. So seeing their room is a mess irks him so he preps all the cleaning materials. But one thing he fears the most is nearing his brother’s bed.

He wants to stay away from those porn stashes even though he wants to properly stack them up. Sighing, he just gives in and decides to do it now so he can clean off the dust piling below.

He takes them all out, as embarrassing as it is, and proceeds to sweep the room. As he was about to put them back under the bed, Himmel got a little bit curious why Venti was so intrigued by these.

Just a little peek won’t hurt, right? Gulping down in nervousness, he slowly opens up the cover. Just a little itty bitty flip of a page then he’ll put it back to where it rightfully belongs.

Unfortunately, the loud slam of the door caused him to shriek and impulsively clutched the booklet close to him as he whipped his head to see who did that.

Lo and behold, it was his dearest childhood friend, [Name] standing there before him with a burning face.

“S-sorry... I guess I came at a bad time.”

You held up your hand to cover your blushing face and quietly closed the door with a click. Himmel was so confused about what you meant by coming at the wrong time. You were always welcome here and it’s not like he was—

Oh.

OH.

Shit, he forgot to put the magazines back to Venti’s bed and they’re just exposed in the room with all these covers of women and their huge breasts bare for your eyes to see. It was a second later he realized he was holding tightly on another magazine and it came to him you misunderstood what he’s doing.

“W-wait!! [Name] it’s not what it looks like! I swear!”

[twistedlymad]

Hey there👉👉 I was wondering if you could write MC/reader talking in a foreign language and no one understands what she's saying but think it's cute, if you can't than it's cool sorry for bothering you 😁

Hewwo there!! Don’t worry at all Dear Anon!! You’re not bothering me in any way!

To be honest, while writing this story, I wanted to focus on one language in general. But, I know it’s not fair as not everyone can speak the same foreign language as others. So, I decided to turn it into a language of your own choice! That way, everyone can really insert themselves into the story just like how we insert ourselves into the game!

Anyway, thank you dear Anon for requesting this story and I hope it lives up to your standards! Thank you again and have a lovely day! Btw, I think I'm losing my touch on writing Ace... Looks like I have to spend some time with the boi. 

What if you talked in a foreign language? (Ft. Grim, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel and Sebek) (Lilia, Silver and Malleus are mentioned)

It had been a few months since you arrived at Night Raven College. Sure, everything might have been so strange to you at first, but as time goes by, you were starting to nest yourself into the wonders of Night Raven College and Twisted Wonderland.

Your life was also pretty peaceful but at the same time it was pretty hectic. As a dorm leader AND a prefect, you could feel stress piling itself onto your shoulders. And with that, there are times where you wanted to rant to your heart’s content. So, after a stressful day of either keeping Grim in check or just helping your friends with their problems in general, or even both, you would make small rants from time to time in your dorm. Now, Grim would’ve noticed and understood what you were talking about…

If it wasn’t in ANOTHER LANGUAGE.

You see, before coming to Twisted Wonderland, you had taken an extra language class as it was a compulsory thing in your home country. And for that extra language, you had chosen (Language). You aimed to study (Language) since you were young, you were fascinated with the wording, the tone and the way to say the language. All in all, you had picked up the language when you were about 5 lessons in and you were proud of it. This language was your go-to ranting language when you are frustrated with either your homework or your family member in general because only you knew what you were saying while everyone else was left in the dark.

Let me just say, you didn’t have nice words coming out of your mouth whenever you rant.

No one knew you knew how to speak the language… Until today.

You see, you didn’t really intend for them to know in any way. It just, slipped out of your mouth.

You had just finished with settling another problem between Ace and Grim. It had not really been your day up until that moment and Ace and Grim’s problem was the cherry on top of your sundae of displeasure for the day. It was pretty safe to say that you were really irked and frustrated. Your mind was already in ranting mode as you apologized on behalf of Grim.

So, when you thought Crowley had turned to leave, you started mumbling incoherently as you picked up Grim. Your mumblings didn’t go unnoticed by Crowley though, for his eyes had widen like saucers.

“What did you say?” Crowley asked you. You froze in your steps, you knew he had heard you, but did he knew what you were talking about? Ace was confused as he stood there watching the two of you.

“(Y/N), what did you say?” Crowley asked once more, slowly approaching you. You shivered slightly. It took a few moments of calming down and one big deep breath for you to turn around and face the headmaster.

“Headmaster.” You said, looking at the headmaster of Night Raven College. Crowley facepalmed himself before lecturing you in the importance of having a polite demeanor and not letting out curse words without a care. Sure, it would’ve been a normal lecture, if Crowley didn’t use the exact same language as you did.

You were dumbfounded! Crowley knew of this language as well? You just sheepishly lowered your head towards the ground while mumbling a ‘sorry’ in the language.

Ace stood there, confused. What were you guys talking about? What’s with the alien language? How are you two able to communicate like this?

“And that is why you must always prioritize your politeness! (Y/N), it’s okay to rant, but, make sure there’s no one else around beforehand! Someone could hear you one day and yours and our school’s reputation would go down! Please think of it beforehand.” Crowley said to you and you nodded.

“However, I will allow the use of this language, for I am very kind, just remember to mind your words.” And with that, Crowley left you, Ace and Grim in the hallway.

“What? Was that?” Ace immediately went up to you. “I couldn’t even understand a single thing!”

“(Y/N) has been talking like that since forever! Even I can’t understand it.” Grim said as he returned to his usual spot on your shoulder.

“So, it’s like a secret language?” Ace asked you as you and him walk back to your friends.

“No, I spent a lot of time learning this language. It’s pretty common from where I came from.” You replied with a shrug.

“Really? That’s pretty cool! Can you teach me? Maybe I can land a few words or two.” Ace asked you.

“I’ll have to think about it.” You said as you entered the classroom.

“(Y/N), Grim, Ace! Over here!” A voice shouted to you. You turned to see Deuce waving at your usual spot in the classroom, near him were Jack, Epel and Sebek. You and Ace waved back and the two of you made your way towards your group of goofballs.

“Glad you could make it before Professor Trein arrived.” Jack said as he greeted you.

“Yeah, if it wasn’t for Ace and Grim, we could’ve been here much more earlier.” You replied as you took your seat.

“You guys would not believe what had just happened!” Ace said excitedly to his friends. You knew where this was going. To be frank, you weren’t really ready to share your knowledge on (Language) to everyone yet.

“What’s got you so riled up?” Epel asked Ace. You tried to stop him, keyword: ‘tried’.

“Ace, no-“ Before you could refrain Ace from saying anything, he already cut you off.

“(Y/N) knows this cool language and no one except Crowley knows about it!” Ace said, swinging an arm over your shoulders.

“Really? What language was it?” Deuce asked.

“I don’t know, but it sounds really cool when she says it!” Ace said.

“Can we hear a few words (Y/N)?” Epel asked you. But, you had noticed something that they didn’t. Believe me, they wished they had.

“Ah… Um… No?” You said in a hushed voice.

“Eh? Why?” Ace asked you as you lowered your head.

“Because… Professor Trein is looking at us.” You whispered in a soft tone. The boys froze up as they felt the stares of their magical history teacher and his pet cat.

“Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel and Sebek! Turn around and pay attention!!” The professor yelled to them as the five boys immediately diverted their attention to the board in front of them.

“Y-YES SIR!!” They all said in unison. You just let out a small giggle while Grim snickered along with you.

“Good, if I catch you all once more, it’s off to detention. Now, turn to page 54.” The professor said followed by a meow from his cat.

It didn’t take long before the bell had rung, signaling that class had ended. You let out a small yawn and stretched yourself, trying to shake of the drowsy feeling you obtained during the lesson.

“Remember to finish all the assignments before our next class. You are all dismissed.” Professor Trein said before leaving the classroom with Lucius in his arms.

“You know, I can sort of relate to Professor Trein…” You said, packing up your books.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked you.

“I also have to carry a furball whenever I go somewhere.” You said, laughing a little.

“You do? WAIT. ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ME?!” Grim said with a hint of anger in his voice. You gave the furball a cheeky smile before saying ‘I love you’ in (Language).

It took you a few seconds to remember that the other boys were still with you. And they had heard you say something in (Language). You looked up from your stuff to see 5 pairs of eyes looking at you with bewilderment.

“See? I told you so!!” Ace said out loud.

“(Y/N)! Can you please teach me?” Epel immediately asked you.

“W-Why?” You asked back the Pomefiore first year.

“So Vil won’t know what I’ll be saying! I can actually rant without a care in the world!” Epel replied. You rolled your eyes.

“No, I won’t teach you guys.” You said calmly before exciting the classroom. The boys followed you.

“Awwww… At least tell us what you said to Grim!” Ace said.

“Guys, we shouldn’t pester (Y/N) like this, if she doesn’t want to share, then let it be.” Jack said and Sebek nodded.

“Yes, let (Y/N) decide if she wants to share the language with us, not force her into sharing it with us.” Sebek said.

“No, it’s okay, I can tell you what I said to Grim.” You said. “I said ‘I love you’ to him.” You continued as you picked up the furball. Grim’s eyes widen before looking away from you.

“Hmph!! You made fun of me!!” Grim said, but nuzzled himself into your arms. After living with the furball for these few months, you knew this was a sign that showed he loved you back. You hugged the fuball tighter after his little gesture.

But something interrupted your little embrace with Grim. Let me correct myself, a few voices interrupted your little embrace with Grim.

“What?” You asked as you placed Grim on your shoulder. You and Grim then looked at the 5 boys around you.

After knowing what ‘I love you’ stands for in (Language), the boys had decided to take it upon themselves to try and repeat what you said.

But they’re failing miserably.

You giggled and said ‘You guys are too cute for me’ in (Language).

“What did you say (Y/N)?” Jack asked you as the group just looked at you.

“Oh… Nothing, you guys don’t need to worry much.” You said and walked a few steps before stopping. You then turned around and said a certain sentence in (Language) to them. You flashed them a smile before turning around and continuing to walk away with your stuff and Grim.

“Come on you guys, our next class is Alchemy right?” You said while continuing walking forward.

“A-Ah yea! Let’s go!!” The boys said and chased up to you.

What did you say? Who knows? But, it left the boys in a blushing mess that’s for sure.

~Bonus!~

“Ugh… Grim, you’ve done it again today.” You said as you sat at your table in the cafeteria. You then proceeded to mumble a sentence in the language that you’ve learnt. Your sentence caught the ears of a certain student.

A certain Diasomnia student.

“My, my, (Y/N). Who knew you would have it in you to say those things.” A voice pipped up above you.

You jumped a little before looking upwards.

“L-Lilia-senpai?” You managed to speak out as the third-year student slowly made his way down to the ground in an upright position.

“Why (Y/N), I didn’t know you also knew (Language).” Lilia said as he took a seat beside you. You let out a small gasp.

“Lilia-senpai, you know of this language too?” You asked your upperclassman with wonder.

“Fufufu, you still have a long way to go young one.” Lilia replied and he began to talk to you in (Language).

A few jokes are shared here and there. A few roasts are also thrown between the two of you but we’ll never know who did you and Lilia roast :)

From then on, Lilia would always invite you to Diasomnia for tea and the two of you would always discuss/roast certain matters in (Language).

It certainly dumbfounded Malleus, Silver and Sebek that’s for sure. One day, while you were having tea with Lilia, the three Diasomnia dorm members were spying on the two of you from afar.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Silver asked.

“Who knows, they always talked in this language when they’re together.” Sebek replied.

“I wonder… How did this child of man manage to learn this language… And why did I have absolutely no knowledge on Lilia knowing this… Language.” Malleus said as Silver and Sebek nodded.

You actually noticed them spying on you, but you decided to play it cool, and tell Lilia about it. The two of you exchanged a few sentences before slowly turning to look at them with a semi-evil smile on your faces.

Oh boy, the three Diasomnia boys froze like deers in headlights.

“Yeah… I think we should go now.” Silver said, tugging on Malleus and Sebek.

“Agreed.” Sebek replied and with that, the two servants dragged their young lord away as fast as they could. You and Lilia were left in the common room laughing out loud at their reactions.

Oh… If only they knew what you were talking about :)

[hannie-dul-set]

between the aisles [kim mingyu]

“wherein you discover your feelings for your best friend in between the grocery aisles.”

PAIRING | kim mingyu x reader GENRE | best friends! au, fluff, comedy WARNING | language lol WORD COUNT | 2k

a/n: dedicated to @aborivin​ happy happy birthday, annie!! <3 this ended up longer than i anticipated, but hope i managed to bring your grocery gyu fantasies to reality LMAO

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong. it was right if you benefit from it, wrong if you did not. but what if you both gained and lost something along the way?

“y/n, look! this carrot has arms!”

that very voice had you sighing, questioning whether or not you had made the right decision today. whether or not you should have given in to his annoyingly endearing pout, his whiny, violence-inducing voice, or the overall kicked puppy look that he was bearing. in the end, you made the decision—

“gyu, put that down! oh my god— back on the pile, not in the cart!”

—the decision to bring kim mingyu, your irritating best friend whom you both want to punch and adore, grocery shopping with you.

“you’re so evil,” he accused, bringing the poor carrot to his chest, hugging it tightly in a protective hold as if you’d grab it from him. “don’t you have a heart? are you just gonna abandon this little guy?”

you frowned. “but i already bought vegetables last time! i showed you my list earlier and it didn’t involve vegetables, mingyu,” you reasoned, gesturing at your shopping cart to emphasize your point. it was partially filled with meat, bread, and everything else except for the produce that mingyu desperately wanted for whatever reason. he seemed adamant to keep it, the little, deformed orange root, but from your stern glare, he returned it back to the pile, although with a frown that he didn’t even bother to mask

“what’s one more?” mingyu grumbled in a soft voice before you two trucked further into the aisle. “he deserves a home too, you know.”

“his home is inside your belly, mingyu.”

he gasped. loudly. very loudly. thank god the grocery store was practically empty. “you take that back!”

from the sudden noise mingyu erupted, you instinctively moved forward to press your palms over his mouth, silencing him. yes, there were barely any customers around, but the employees were still around. you didn’t want to risk getting kicked out thanks to your best friend’s ineptitude to auditory appropriateness. his eyes were wide, staring at you in alarm and you could only harden your gaze. when he seemed to finally get the idea of you wanting him to shut the fuck up, you removed your hands, and he released a long huff of breath.

“okay—” you sighed, brushing your fingers through your hair before returning his curious glances. “how much do you want the fucking carrot?”

mingyu’s face lit up, his sharp canines bearing from the wideness of his grin, and you weren’t able to prevent a smile of your own from forming. one might think he won the lottery— not a mutated alien carrot that he had questionably gotten attached to.

“he is my son, y/n,” he proclaimed. “i’m not leaving without my son.”

it sometimes irked you how one look from him could immediately have you agreeing. you were going to monopolize his closet for this, dear god.

“go,” you sighed, and you didn’t expect him to smile even wider. “before i change my mind. i’m paying for this, remember?”

“oh my god, i love you,” the words slipped past his breath quickly. a little too quickly. he hugged you quickly, too. and the lingering feeling of his fleeting arms around you tingled over your skin belatedly when he had finally left and ran away to pick up his apparent son. he wasn’t there, but you were smiling at him, smiling at his back as he ran at to the end of the aisle, smiling when he shot back at you, raising the carrot in his hands to show it off, smiling when he finally returned to his spot before you.

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong. and right now, you've made the right decision. the stupid smile on your face says it all.

“y/n! thank you, thank you,” mingyu sang, dancing a little bit before gingerly placing the carrot on top of a cereal box inside the cart. “what’s next on the list?”

“oh, so now you care about my list?” you raised at arm to lightly smack him on the head. “ramen. don’t even say anything about preservatives, you wannabe food connoisseur. you’ve terrorized my grocery experience enough already.”

mingyu laughed, gently patting the spot on his hair where you hit him earlier, and he grinned at you. “aye aye, captain.”

the produce aisle and the instant food aisle were at the opposite ends of the grocery store spectrum— meaning that the distance needed to be covered was a bit too far for your liking. mingyu volunteered to push the shopping cart in your stead, humming along to the lyricless music blaring through the store’s speakers. he was walking at a pace far too slow for your liking, even with his long ass legs, causing you to sigh, stop, and look at him in exasperation.

“what’s wrong?” mingyu raised a brow, against the cart handles with his arms crossed.

“can’t you move a little faster? at this rate your son will start rotting before we even get to pay for him at the cash register.”

“well, we definitely won’t make it there if we stop moving,”

god you wanted to punch him. something about that stupid and smug look on his face just looked an exclusive invitation for your fist. mingyu continued strolling past you, eyeing the vast selection of milk inside the lines of freezers. still feeling bitter by your lack of a rebuttal, you resorted to physical tactics— shoving him forward as you passed by, which caused the poor guy to stumble and let out a shriek.

“again,” he breathed, barely hanging onto his life by clinging onto the freezer door handle. “you’re so evil.”

it was a surprise that it didn’t swing open and insinuated a cartoned dairy avalanche onto the male. you stuck your tongue out at him, stealing the cart away from him briskly walking away, not before shooting back a smug grin of your own. “if only you walked a little faster, gyu.”

you already passed another isle but he didn’t seem to be running after you, and it stirred your gut into unease. where the hell was he? the last thing you wanted to do today was file a missing child case. you thought of turning around, hoping that you’d spot him sneaking behind your back once you did. but the moment you stopped your movements to look behind, you felt like you were being carried into the air.

“what the fuckin— oh my god. put me down, you dumbass!”

you heard him giggle. you couldn’t see his face because the motherfucker was carrying you like a sack of potatoes right now, but you could imagine the shit eating expression he was wearing on his face right now. there was movement that you could feel— him leaning forward as well as the shuffling of contents inside your cart, and you could only ask yourself what in the world was he planning.

“there. perfect,” you were about to retort, scold him, and maybe even insert a little bit of profanities in between, but all that escaped from your lips was a high pitched scream because mingyu finally put you down, but the thing is—

he placed you inside the shopping cart.

the damned shopping cart. you couldn’t even fit inside as your legs were practically squeezing against your chest, so you had to have them dangling them out of the cart’s walls just so you can breathe.

“mingyu, what the fuck, i’m not for sale,” you were appalled, staring up at him wide-eyed and he was only grinning at you like a maniac.

“you wanted me to move faster, right?”

“well, yes, but— oh my fucking god, mingyu—!”

he was crazy. you had managed to conclude that amidst your frazzled state of mind because you were literally being steered around the grocery store’s aisles at the speed twenty-fucking-three miles per hour. your knuckles were getting cut off from blood by gripping onto the sides of the cart too tightly, and you couldn’t even think because all you could hear was wheels screeching against the slippery tiles juxtaposed with the sound of mingyu’s laughter.

“do you want me to go even faster?”

“i want you to trip over your own legs, you fucking maniac. what if we get kicked out?!”

“they can’t kick us out if they can’t catch us!”

you shot your head up to look at him, breathless from the sudden rush of adrenaline but even more so when you caught a glimpse of his widely smiling face. he stared down at you, laughing, hair flying against the wind, and the fluorescent lights of the store's ceiling raining on his golden skin made it seem like he was glowing. you weren’t sure if it was the sudden rush, or if you were also going crazy but—

had he always looked this radiant?

the cart stopped, knocking the air from your lungs, and you were finally snapped out of your dumbstruck daze. or so you thought, because the moment your eyes landed on your best friend once more— hair a mess, chest heaving, and an intoxicated smile on his face, you were deterred back into the previous screaming if your nerves.

what the fuck?

“okay, ramen,” he breathed out, probing the shelves filled with instant noodles to pick out your favorite ones. you only stared at him wordlessly. staring at the way his brows furrowed in concentration as he examined the selection, staring at the way his lips were formed in a slight pout, staring at the way he picked out a handful of the goods, until his gaze resigned back to yours with an inquisitive air. “do you want me to get you out of there or…?”

“o—oh yeah i can get out by myself, thanks,” you were still slightly out of it (well, very out of it), so it was a bit of a task to get yourself out of the tiny shopping cart. you were struggling, that you acknowledge, and it seems like mingyu did as well because you heard him release a chuckle, returning the stacks of ramen onto the shelves before coming to your rescue.

“there you go,” he hummed, pulling out of your predicament, and your feet were finally back on the ground “i was afraid you’d kill my son out of your carelessness.”

you smacked him, to which he let out a whine. “i might actually do after the whole stunt you pulled earlier.”

“but it was fun, right?”

you were about to bite back, opening your mouth to split another snarky comment, but you were only left speechless once you saw the eagerness from his upturned lips, the crinkling of his eyes, and you couldn’t help but mirror his gleam

“yeah…it was pretty fun.”

mingyu hummed in satisfaction, returning to his previous agenda of picking out the last item on your list. “let’s finish up this trip,” he said, throwing in a number of the noodles into your cart before grabbing onto the handles, ready to move on to your next destination  “where off to next?”

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong, and bringing your best friend along to your grocery trip was definitely both a right and wrong decision on your part. you lost a few screws in your head, maybe, as well as a few chunks of your patience. though, you definitely gained something else in between the aisles. 

what that was will be left unsaid, for now.

a fond smile blossomed on your face, shaking your head before moving ahead of mingyu who started to trail behind you shortly after. he waited for you to speak, earnest in his gaze, and you nudged your head towards the orange carrot, resting peacefully inside the shopping cart.

“let’s go pay for your son now, yeah?”

[mavda]

Beast Tamers

Ch.1 |  Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) | Ch.7(1) | Ch.7(2) | Ch.7(3) | Ch.7(4) | Ch.7(5) | Ch.8(1) | Ch.8(2) | Ch.8(3) | Ch.9(1) | Ch.9(2) | Ch.9(3) | Ch.9(4) | Ch.10(1) | Ch.10(2) |

Ch.10: The Two-Tails (3)

Naruto stretches his arm and searches for his wife's body in the dark. She's on her side, with her face to him, and his hand touches her belly with tentative fingers. 

He lingers and stares at the ceiling. Seeing nothing and only listening to Hinata's soft breathing and the wind rustling the leaves outside. He doesn't want to leave the bedroom. 

When he sits, he shivers as the cold finds him. He takes a second to feel Hinata's warmth and then leaves her side with a reluctant face nobody sees.

Jiraiya is always there waiting for him. And the training continues, wherever they left it at. The cold wakes Naruto and he is conscious of his body, present in whatever instruction Jiraiya shares. And yet he doesn’t see results. 

It is frustrating and annoying and it is difficult for Naruto to ground himself when he knows he needs to control this as fast as he can if he wants it to have any real effect on his body… on his lifespan. 

Hinata’s breath on his neck keeps him awake at night.

Jiraiya senses some turmoil, but Naruto knows he won’t pry. He knows he can’t do anything, and Jiraiya is pragmatic at heart. He has never inflated Naruto’s dreams, has never told him of hopes he doesn’t share. 

Naruto has forgotten what those are supposed to make him feel.

He has a baby on the way and enemies that seem to multiply. 

The shame he feels when he stands and Jiraiya tells him that he has to keep on practicing. The irk that feels him as he realizes that he can’t even focus enough on his pregnant wife. The fear that seems to seep from his bones as he merely thinks about an attack. 

And all the things that can go wrong.

There are plans. There plans and backup plans and backup plans for those backup plans. He knows them by heart, recites them inside his head when his mind runs wild.

But his feelings are always running amok. 

Shikamaru is right beside him and Tsume and Shino check time and time again their perimeter. Nothing moves without Naruto knowing. 

But they all know this is the calm before the storm. 

The Beast Tamer meeting is a taunt. A game and a chance someone is taking for reasons unknown. They gather all the information they can. Read it and classify it and read it again. They have ideas, but nothing sure, and no one really trusts what the other Beast Tamers have to say. 

Gaara is the only one they trust and although he tries his best, he comes up with the same information Naruto can gather. 

So they set out to know more. And Naruto has meetings upon meetings with his vassals. He smiles, he laughs, he pries and he tests. And his heart rests a little as he realizes that most of them are still on his side. 

With only a few exceptions. 

He can see it in their eyes, in the way their body shifts and their words come out too late, too quick. He zeroes in on one.

Lord Graff comes into the room with a smile plastered on his face. Naruto makes small conversation and offers a drink the man accepts with a slight tremble on his hand.

They could drug him, they could kidnap him, they could very well torture him to know more. 

But if their movements have been so cautious before, if this whole ordeal is a careful plan, he fears what they can do when brought into a corner. So he will play along.

And he asks about mundane things he doesn’t care about. 

Lord Graff relaxes after a while. With Naruto sharing information about the other vassals with whom he has had subsequent meetings too. He has to show himself to be cautious, but he can’t show himself to be suspicious of someone. Not yet. Not until he is where they want him to be. 

“Harsh times we are going through, huh?” Naruto says, just after sipping his sake and giving a defeated sigh. It comes to mind that he doesn’t really need to act up the anxious-worried tone he laces his voice with, and that is enough to make him huff out and add a touch of exasperation Lord Graff buys immediately.

“Indeed, my lord! Harsh times indeed! Such a shame things seem to have piled up upon you these days! But I am sure with this new Beast Meeting information you have so kindly shared with me some fruitful ideas will be laid out!”

Lord Graff is new money and has always been eager to rise the ranks, but money? Power? Naruto hadn’t pegged him as such a greedy man. His beaded eyes run over Naruto and Naruto makes sure to show his body feels fine. 

Information for what? His family doesn’t seem to be affected by this ordeal and neither does he seem to be threatened.

A grudge? Naruto has barely known him for a couple of years. 

Lord Graff babbles on without Naruto saying much. He has downed their sake on his own, as Naruto controlled his intake and encouraged the man to keep on drinking. Naruto is in fact surprised the man still can control what his mouth says in such a situation. 

Maybe he doesn’t know much. Naruto wouldn’t let a nobody know about what he plans to do. 

“Is everything all right with your lovely wife?”

Naruto doesn’t flinch. His hand doesn’t tremble and his voice comes out with a worry he practiced beforehand. “She is, thank you for asking.”

“Oh, of course! The lord’s wife is a precious person so it stands to reason that we worry so much about her. In fact, it seems that no one has seen your wife in a long while and well-”

“I am sure you can understand, you know, with all that has been going on and what not.”

“Oh, oh, absolutely, as long as everything is all right, my lord.”

“It is, thank you.” Naruto takes a deliberate slow sip out of his cup, as hostility begins to fill his body, “I take it your family is well, too?”  

“Yes, yes, my lord, thank you so much for asking.”

There is nothing Naruto gets out of him and Lord Graff leaves after a while, positively drunk and yet tight-lipped as always. 

The cold wind helps Naruto relax before walking in to the innermost part of the compound. Lord Graff is either another fool that knows nothing or his overbearing questions mean something, and Naruto wishes whoever was behind all of this would just turn up in front of him to fight it out with their fists. 

He wants peace and tranquility and his life seems to refuse to have anything to do with those concepts.  

He enters his bedroom the moment he knows his brows are not burrowed and his muscles are not taut. There is no one inside and his heart leaps inside his chest and his mind is filled with thoughts he never wants to think about. 

He begins listing places and schedules and hours and he is barely turning the first corridor when he sees Hinata walking alongside Sai and a couple maids in the distance. She is fresh out of her bath and her cheeks are rosy. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Naruto hides before anyone can see him, his back pressed to the wall, his head tilted back. He breathes in and out, and then in and out again. 

He needs to control this damned Beast, control it. But the moment he even thinks of harm coming to his family… of danger being near Hinata, his mind goes into overdrive and he knows he will tear everything apart to keep her safe. Himself included if need be. 

His hand is shaking and he stares at it till it settles. The cold wind bites at his skin and after a while he resumes his way back to his room.

 ⁂⁂⁂

Naruto comes into the room with tired eyes and Hinata is ready to let him sleep and rest and cuddle him, but the moment she walks to him to help him undress Naruto envelops her in a hug that makes her yelp. 

    “You smell good.”

    Hinata blushes as Naruto drags his nose down her neck, laying a couple of kisses on his way. 

    “I j-just took a b-bath.”

    He hums in appreciation and then rests his head on top of her head, letting a heavy sigh leave his body. 

    He must be exhausted. 

    “Sh-shall we go to bed?”

    He puts space between them and brings his finger to her chin, lifting her face to him. “Do you feel all right? Are you tired?”

    Hinata has to bite down the scoff that wants to leave her body, as he looks a hundred times more haggard than her, but she knows how worried he is and how anxious he feels about not being with her as much as he wants to, so she kissed his palm and makes him follow her into their bed. 

    She undresses him and although Naruto complains about being able to do it himself and how she has to take care of her body, she loves being able to give him comfort, so she insists. 

    He has his head on her lap as she caresses his head, their eyes on the garden outside. Naruto finds this relaxing most of the time, but he feels tense somehow, and although Hinata kisses his cheek, and does her best to soften his posture, he doesn’t budge.

    “Did s-something happen?”

    He says nothing. He only turns his face to her, blinks as if pondering and then turns his whole body to hers, his face buried between her belly and her thighs. He brings his one hand to her bottom and the other claps the hand that caresses his face.

    “I just don’t wanna go to that meeting,” he whispers. 

    And Hinata says nothing, because she doesn’t want him to go to that meeting either. She rubs her thumb over his hand and drags her fingers over his scalp. 

    “I-I’ll be waiting for you.”

    Naruto buries himself even deeper into her body and then sits with slow movements. He cups her face, maps her face with his blue eyes, then dips his head for a kiss.

     “I love you.” He says and repeats. “I’ll be back before you notice.”

    Hinata doubts it, but she can’t bring herself to tell him. Sometimes he reads her better than she can. 

    She kisses him back, brings her body closer. “I’ll be waiting.”

    Naruto licks her lips, drags his hands down her body. “You smell like soap.”

    Hinata is about to tell him again that she took a shower, but Naruto opens her sleepwear and kisses her overflowing breasts. “I’ll help you take a bath again, don’t worry.”

    Hinata laughs and Naruto brings his head up, confused and worried he may have overstepped. “Is that all right?”

    He looks so pretty under the lamp, Hinata can only stare dumbstruck. “I w-won’t need another bath.” The saliva on her skin is getting colder and it brings memories that make her legs rub together in anticipation, “I love having your s-smell on me.”

    She expects Naruto to laugh or smirk, give her one of his usual winks. Be playful like he always is. But he just gives her a bittersweet smile that makes her want to gather him in her arms and never let go. 

    Naruto is faster, though. He kisses her neck, brings her head to his shoulder, then clasps her hand and squeezes. 

    He doesn’t seem to want to let go either.

[fowl-fox]

I know I keep asking you all these random questions, but- in AF, it always irked me that we never learned about Fowl Sr.’s return to Fowl Manor, given that he was recovering from being in a coma (I know his amputation sight would have been healed by then, but I don’t think he would have been strong enough to walk on a prosthetic for a while- he probably used crutches for a bit). Like... what was that like for the Fowls. I know that the books never go into it, but I would have hoped that it was a brief period of the Fowl Family being just... happy to be together again, even as they were having to dramatically restructure their lives again to adjust to the head of the family being home again, especially for Tim and Angeline. Any thoughts or headcanons or what-not?

Ask as many questions as you like! (That goes for anyone else as well.) It gets my brain going and motivates me to start writing things. Also sorry this took a bit, I've got medical crap going on rn.

As usual, I'm gonna toss this under a Read More, because boy, did this get long, I apologize. And I'm going to warn you, a lot of this delves into how I feel about Artemis' relationship with Tim and Angeline overall. But it's those feelings that drive most of my headcanons, so I feel like it's best to talk about them.

Let's start with Artemis Sr. and his state of being after rescue. I'm gonna pull some quotes from my copies of The Arctic Incident and The Eternity Code throughout my pondering, please bear with me.

At the beginning of TAI, we're given a laundry list of ailments Fowl Sr. has when he's dragged out of the water in the beginning of the book:

"Though the man's clothes were relatively intact, his body had not fared so well. His bare hands were mottled with frostbite. One leg had been snapped below the knee, and his face was a horrific mask of burns."

"He'll lose that leg for sure, (...) A couple of fingers, too. That face doesn't look too good either."

When it's Holly's turn to drag Fowl Sr. out of the water, his heartbeat is dangerously low, due to deadly cold water. We know she kept him alive, healed the chest wound caused by the blunt force of the shell Butler shot him with, as well as a blinded eye that wasn't mentioned previously, but we're not really told anything else, which I suppose leaves it up to our imaginations as to what ailments he's left with.

We know he lost his leg, but did he lose some of those frostbitten fingers? Frostbite doesn't fuck around (Mayo Clinic link, if you'd like), and while it's not mentioned, it would be likely his captors would have had to amputate a few of those as well, to prevent the dead tissue from eventually killing their meal ticket. His face was severely burned from the explosion, how extensive was the scaring after everything was said and done? We know magic can heal scars if that's what the magic is told to do, but Holly probably wasn't worried about that in the moment, and she makes this statement:

"I got him," she gasped, "One live Mud Man. He's not pretty, but he's breathing."

So even with Holly doing what she could, it sounds like Fowl Sr.'s condition was still really rough. Rough enough to need prolonged medical attention. He'd spent nearly two years in a coma before waking up in Murmansk, and the ordeal of his rescue was enough to throw him back into a coma, as we're told in The Eternity Code.

Except wait a minute. In Artemis Jr.'s diary excerpt, we're given some information that contradicts the previous book.

"It had been over two months since Holly Short used her healing magic on his battered body, and still he lay in his Helsinki hospital bed. Immobile, unresponsive.

The doctor's could not understand it. He should be awake, they informed me. His brain waves are strong, exceptionally so. And his heart beats like a horse. It is incredible, this man should be at death's door, yet he has the muscle tone of a twenty-year old.

(…) Holly's magic has overhauled his entire being, with the exception of his left leg, (...) He has received an infusion of life, in body and mind."

(...) my father had no need of medical attention. He simply sat up, rubbed his eyes, and muttered one word: 'Angeline.'"

So now Holly's magic apparently healed everything but the lost leg? What?

I love the Artemis Fowl books, but I will always be a little frustrated with their inconsistencies. But you know what? It's great for giving yourself permission to play around with your headcanons. If Colfer changes what he wants when he wants, I certainly won't feel bad about doing it.

I'm going to go with the TAI and say that Tim was still in a really rough state after everything. Ignoring that supposedly his muscles were fine, he'd still have to learn how to walk on the prosthetic. And tbh, I'm just going to believe that his muscles weren't magically perfect. Maybe easier to build back than they would have been without the magical infusion, but there was definitely gonna be work involved. And that's ignoring probable mental trauma. He was in a coma for a large portion of his captivity, but there was a brief period of time where he was conscious, with captors that maybe couldn't kill him, but definitely didn't treat him well (though it sounds like he was being a difficult captive, but yeah, of course, he's a Fowl lol.)

(Detour Thought: My mental picture of Artemis Senior has always involved heavy facial scarring, especially on the side of his face where the damage was apparently bad enough to blind him.)

But to get back to your original inquiry (Jesus, Blue, I am so sorry at how badly I've dragged this out) I do like to think there would be a period of recovery and restructure that would involve the Fowls getting to be a happy family together. Great potential for a hurt/comfort fic, if you ask me.

--

I'm going to be frank, (and this opinion puts me at odds with the fandom at large, I know) - from my interpretations of the books overall, while Artemis certainly had a strict upbringing with parents who were usually busy and definitely irresponsible, I never got the sense that it was a loveless childhood. Nor did I ever get the sense that Artemis feared his father as a person, but rather that he feared disappointing him, which at no point are we told ever actually happened. I've read these books a million times, I've never found anything in them suggesting Artemis ever disappointed his father, nor that Tim was ever actually cruel to Artemis. Strict, yes. Overly formal? Definitely. But not cruel.

Now, the fact that he felt he had to jump through so many hoops to maintain his father's approval? Bad parenting, Tim. Also, don't encourage him to be a criminal mastermind, maybe. But also Artemis is an over-achiever by nature, which Tim just either didn't clue in on or more likely imo, thought it was in Artemis' best interests as an heir of a criminal empire to be that way.

Aside from Tim and Angeline later suggesting he try to be more 'normal' and let go of his criminal tendencies, and that one incident of Angeline pulling a guilt trip (all of which is a whole other thing I won't get into rn), Artemis' parents speak positively to and about him. I just honestly think they don't know how to be actual parents, which, being aristocrats, tracks. They function almost more like older siblings after TAI, really, which isn't exactly great, but it could be worse.

We know his father used to read to him regularly when he was little (ending with a kiss on the head, which I always thought was sweet) and we know that Angeline was always warm and available to him whenever possible (until her grief-stricken dementia set in.) Artemis has a moment of angst at how strict/formal his upbringing was compared to the twins, but overall he generally speaks positively of his parents, and he loved and missed them enough to risk his life several times for them. Even when he's frustrated by their joined presence making it harder for him to conduct criminal activities, he still misses them and thinks about them often when he's away from them.

--

Which yeah, that's what this all boils down to for me. Artemis just wants time with both of his parents, and Artemis Sr.'s recovery, in my headcannon, would absolutely allow for that time he so desperately wanted, deep down. Assisting in the physical recovery, using the down time to really talk and catch up (without mentioning his fairy adventures, of course.) It would be a drastic change and awkward to adjust to initially, but overall I think it would be good.

And as for Tim and Angeline? I think there would be of course the joy of being reunited with the love of your life, because Tim and Angeline are absolutely soul-mates. But I also imagine there were many, many conversations of regrets and questioning how to move forward as a family from this point. Angeline seems to defer to Tim as the one who makes decisions for the family as a whole, but she isn’t afraid to give her input. I bet they were scared, in a way, because not only has everything changed, but the future is uncertain. They have to restructure their whole life, and while overall the changes are positive, they’re not going to be easy.

I also feel like it would be difficult for Angeline in particular because while Tim returning is a joyful thing, she now probably has some self doubts. Why did she fall apart so tremendously, at the expense of not only her well being, but her son’s? While she isn’t the best parent, I imagine Angeline will always carry heartache about her time in the attic and how she forgot her own son. And to an extent I bet Tim does too, because it was his disappearance that triggered it.

And now I want to write a fic about all of this, which I guess I'll add to my pile of ideas I've been playing around with.

–

I'd definitely like to hear more thoughts on the matter from you if you have them!