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ducknotinarow · 2 years ago

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2012 Michelangelo - All Symbol Headcanons please uwu

| Send me a symbol and I will write a headcanon about… For multimuse blogs, please specify!

Mikey! I am pretty biased on 2012 mikey personally I will say blame it on his VA who is one of my favorites have even gotten to meet them uwu I just love him. I feel they didn't always give him the spot light he should but I do appreciate the show many times showing how competent Mikey is often shocking his brothers like the gang on how to figure out where Casey is using Cell phone signals simply cause its how he tracks the pizza delivery boy.

𝓕 : My muse’s handwriting. (Is it good, bad, difficult to decipher, do they prefer writing by hand or with the help of some form of machine, e.t.c.)

"Micheal at your service,"

In an episode while flirting with Renet Mikey states his name is Michael middle name Angelo which is why I did it like this and misspelled Michael cause I can see him forgetting the a there XD

Of course, Mikey also uses big letter because he is by far the most out going of all his brothers. Due to Mikeys more empathic nature he dose write with a much more softer pressure due to his confidence his signature can be read pretty easy even if Mikey sort of decided Angelo is his middle name likey due to the fact he is more often called Mikey anyway. Micheal when hes in serious trouble Michelangelo when worse trouble. Mikeys enthusiasm can also be shown thanks to how he crosses his t's making them looped and near like a cross. And well Mikey may not be able to hold the title of artist in the family he is creative and his more rounded letting shows this.

✈ : My muse and traveling. (If they do it frequently and why, if they never left their home town, e.t.c.)

"Aw man thanks to Ranet we've been all over tha place!"

As mentioned in Raph's The turtles have traveled to a lot of places in truth going to space, other worlds and even time periods. Of course, Mikey apparently has done more time traveling than his brothers claiming he and renet have hung out with them knowing.

✿ : My muse and nature. (If they are an ‘outdoorsy type’, like the sound of bird’s singing, if they have never set foot in a forest, e.t.c.)

"I've never been in the wild much I don't even know like what all turtles can do? I mean I been to Jersey before and the farm house we hid out at." Mikey is a tad inbetween I would say he is far more a city turtle loving the convince of it even if he lives in a sewer. He likes having better access to things like internet and tv after all. He liked the farm house because of the chickens though and he did enjoy camping with his brothers. Mikey was able to connect to nature pretty decently but he is far more in tune at times. HEck Mikey is more willing to rough it when him and his brothers are stuck in time eating a mub and berry bark pizza.

☼ : My muse’s first memory. (Where it was, who was with them, how this memory makes them feel, e.t.c.)

"First uh? hmmm man I guess when Splinter told us about how we got our home and when he gave me mu nunchucks?"

Im sure Mikey remembers a bit further back maybe not so much when he was a baby outside some vague things maybe, mostly he remembers when they were presented with thier weapons as one if thier passing stages for thier training under splinter. Sure Mikey dosent get much of a reason it speech behind why he got his nunchucks but Splinter well not always understanding Mikey dose seem to note his potential and ability and nunchucks require a lot of focus to be used and to Mikey this was a way of splinter stating Mikey could handle such a weapon.

He takes great care of his weapons and learned to work them in with his more unorthodox style and arcobact way of maneuvering when he fights.

☙ : My muse’s favourite food. (Bonus: A memory, be it good or bad, associated with said food.)

"P I to the doublr Z-a duh bruh it's pizza!"

of course it's Pizza mikeys real ture love is Pizza clearly this boy has stated he can eat two all by himself and often keeps boxes of pizza in his bed room to eat ot stashes slices in his shell so clearly he'll eat it stale but were gonna gloss over this fact I feel xD cause boys disgusting loves to experiment and trying different sorts of toppings and he has no limit of what he'll put on it from the usual toppings to jelly beans. Funny enough he hate pineapple but if he wants to piss of raph he'll throw some on.

♬ : My muse and music. (What type of music they like listening to and in what context, what music they would never listen to, e.t.c.)

"Ehh long as it ain't polka I'm pretty chill with an tune long as I can bust a move."

I would say mikey more into music like tencho. Pop and electric pop wven something works well when he dances or even fights since he since he has displayed the ability to fight well not thinking the best working purely off instinct. Mikey also have a decent singing voice seeing as he dose the vocals for the ice cream kitty MV. Yeah not cannon but he dose sing in the show here and there as well.

↺ : My muse and the past. (Do they live in the past and struggle to let go of past grievances, or move on more easily, is there anything in their past they want to forget, e.t.c.)

" sensie would say gotta learn from but don't ley it control ya."

Mikeys more just tries to let things go because he feels something just are not worth it. It's kond of why he let's alot of his brothers remarks go he knows in part its a brotherly thing but sometimes he can't help but hold on to what they say about him.

Because he is the youngest he sometimes feels his brothers only see him as a screw up even running away from.the farm house when feel loke thst didn't want him around anymore. He's snapped at Raphael on the angry planet showing he dose in fact get pretty hurt over Raphaels comments as well.

Byt he feels sometimes it's better to let things go because even if his brothers can be harsh on him he also knows those three would do anything to any one if he got hurt. They will chase him down to find him if he gose missing and well they are in thier own ways looking out for him so he tries to focus on that instead.

☾ : My muse and sleep. (How much they sleep, how much they wish to sleep, if there is something that never fails to put them to sleep, e.t.c.)

"Hmm I sleep fine actually now when I was younger though I sort of struggled sleeping alone when we got our own rooms think I just got used to be near my bros."

mikey dosent really snuggle with sleep head hits a pillow and he's out. When they were far younger though? Mikey often would sneak to sleep with one of his brothers due to frequent nightmares he dealt with.

✧ : My muse and art. (If they have an artistic side or not and why, favourite artist if they have one, e.t.c.)

"Raphs a great artis but I loke to dabble in the arts myself."

Mikey draws like a five year old and I love it. Definitely tries to draw loke Raph can he admires his older brother skill and tries to improve often drew a lot with raph when they were younger but cause raph is better he tended to opt for having them just so it for him instead. He loves to draw it just a fun hobby for him though she he's nit all the versed in it himself. But his favorite artis is Raphael his brother for sure.

❃ : My muse and social media. (If the muse is/would be on social media and why/why not, their general opinion on it, e.t.c.)

"Thibk I'm about on everything? I lpvr meeting people online! Just don't tell Don that I've meet a few of them in person."

As mikey has stated hes pretty much on about every platform Facebook Twitter forums ect some he uses more than others anything that allows for mkre interactions tends to be what he uses more in that day. He has a few mutual across platforms mainly from fandoms. Just as he is in personal mikey very social online and has decent followings.

He has run the risk and met a few of his online in person donnir tries to stop him anf at first it worked but once donnie got with the von of this verse Mikeu decided to be a rebeal and went to the next meet up. He is also friends with one of the pizza guys often getting free pizza because of this.

✉ : My muse and others. (If they social and outgoing or more introverted, and why. If they prefer communicating with others face to face or in written form, e.t.c.).

"I like meeting people."

Miekys a social butterfly he shoild be a bit more reserved but he can't help it hes a people person he loves social interaction and will hang out with kind of anyone who will give him attetion and yes this has been in fact a bad thing time to time

But at the same time work for the team over all since he befriend many people who started off being possible villians lole Leatherhead, Monday and that frog dude even. Unknown to his brothers mikey actually gets around and talks to a fee humans and such often flying under the radar they don't seem to be fully aware of all he dose when they aren't watching him. Sometimes it betters he's not left bored cause he will find a way to get into trouble.

▶ : My muse and level of education. (If the muse has some form of education, what education they perhaps wish they had, e.t.c.).

"I mean ninaj school I'm a master at it clearly"

Mikeys stated to have the most raw talent of course but he's also generally pretty smart even able to understand donnie when others can't even if sometimes he just joking and going along with Don's enthusiasm he by extension has learned because of this.

◐ : My muse and animals. (If they like animals and treat them well, do not care for them at all, e.t.c.).

"Aww I love them they are soo cute!"

Mikey dose like animals he took in the stray cat April found after all and felt horrible when he cause her to.mutate into ice cream kitty who he talks great care of even making sure she has a safe way to be relocates to the Fram house and back to New York after.

❒ : My muse and gifts. (If they are good/bad at finding gifts, good/bad at receiving gifts, good/bad at wrapping gifts, e.t.c.)

"I love getting gifts!"

he's the youngest what can I say can kind of saw the t pod don made is sort of a gift for mokeu since he uses the most and openly volunteered to test it out and lokely dose often for donnie experiments xD

☘ : My muse’s relation with their family. (If they speak with each other and how much, if they are close or estranged, e.t.c.).

"Family I'm all about my famillia."

I feel it can be safe to say Mikey looks up to each brother and they show it prettt well. He dosent tend to be annoyed by how they sort of baby him at times or discredit him made worse when in the 12 verse they are all the same age. But often Mikey feels his brothers forget this fact and it can greatly annoy him time to time because he's gone through a lot of the stuff they all have and then some but they tend to not always acknowledge this stuff he knkws in part its because they are older and there's a is a bit of lookong out for thier brother here.

Mikey of course dose experience a bit jealous when it comes to knew people coming into to his brothers lives April the least but they saved her so she was always an expection to Mikey. Casey and Von though both are subjects of jealously but mostly due to Mikey feeling lonely and feeling he lost a brother in a way. Because he is pretty damn close to Raph and Donnie. Not so much going against Leo because he feels he's not a good leader but more hey they are doing so I will too. Seeing how Mikey often plays the baby bro card on Leo the most and gets away with it with alot.

Raph may pick and bully Mikey a bit but Raphs also the one who jumps to protect mikeys first not to mention Mikey sort of learns smack talk from raph wanting to come off just about as tough.

Donnie is often group up with in the team B of the team later called the A- minis team. You can tell mokey seems to have an intrest in sicene and often messes in Don's lab but donnie makes seem cool and exciting but he also dosent always let mikey in the lab sooo yeah he over steps and and mess stuff pretty often but it's also be the result if accidently achievements. And it why he was able to make the antidote for the wasps.

Leo I feel mikeu got closer with over time since theu both can bind over being mega fans for a TV series.

Mikeys is always the one needing protection physically but Mikey is also the one who protects his brothers emotionally. He often step up when thier emotions lead to bad choices or making mistakes and he can sort of meet them head on when it comes to over stressing themselfs or lashing out he knows sometimes his brother can't handle thier emotions or don't want to so he sort of gives them that outlet they need so badly

#muse| hamato michelangelo #aflockoffeathers #madamkezzie #[muse head cannons]#muse bio: hamato michelangelo #meme answes #ic reply #stay queued

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higuchisora · 21 days ago

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I usually stay out of shipping discourse (and also fandoms big enough to draw in that discourse) but this needs to be said, I think especially because they're a WLW relationship. A lot of people seem to have blinders on when it comes to Sapphic relationships (when they pay attention to them at all), as if "anything goes" because they're both women.

Like, NO, just because Caitlyn's a feminine-presenting (lesbian) woman does not, in fact, mean she can't exhibit toxic behavior towards her partner, but for some reason if she's with a "tough butch" (aka as some people like to read it, "Male Lite"), all of a sudden physical violence against your partner is A-Okay! And even if it's not? Well, it's clearly the POINT that it's toxic! There's no possible way the writers just fumbled the writing! They were clearly trying to portray a toxic relationship, which is why it happens out of nowhere and no one acknowledges it or shows to any measurable degree the affects of such a toxic relationship on the people involved!

Like even toxic ships MEANT to be toxic show at least 1 person lowkey going off the deep end about it. Pardon me, but isn't the point of toxic ships the TOXICITY of it? To lean into the suffering, or the pain, or the mental/physical/emotional anguish it puts someone in, but also how they just can't let go? How they might not even WANT to let go? Or even how they don't realize, perhaps until it's too late, that there's no escape? Slowly being drawn into the trap?

Have I simply been enjoying my toxic ships incorrectly, or???? Like are intentionally toxic ships not supposed to be written with, you know, intention? Because me, personally, I can tell the difference between a toxic ship and a ship written toxically, and I prefer the former. Because usually, it's actually written well, LOL. It's the difference between Hannibal and a One Direction Wattpad fic.

Caitvi went from a budding decent ship to... banging in a prison cell set to (what was supposed to be) romantic music as Vi "realizes what she wants"??? ("what she wants" being... servicing the classist woman who beat and left her? Pop off I guess.) Like if Caitlyn's supposed to be a master manipulator or something, she really hasn't had to put in that much effort, honestly.

My hottest Arcane take is that a lot of caitvi antis come across as complete wimps whose only exposure to lesbian couples are kids cartoons and vanilla yuri manga. Like I’m fairly certain half an episode of Killing Eve would instantly make these people pass out if caitvi of all ships is their limit for fucked up relationship dynamics. Please I am begging you watch/read more lesbian media made for adults, there’s an entire world out there that you’re missing.

#anti caitvi #shipping discourse #arcane critical #i honestly think if they intended for them to be toxic they still messed up bc there was actually a LOT of potential there #like they had SO MUCH MATERIAL for a toxic ship #caitlyn had SO MUCH POWER over Vi and it wouldve made it way more interesting if she wielded it more often and with more intention #it wouldve broken my heart for vi but i wouldnt ever complain about the writing itself #arcane criticism #arcane s2

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hekateinhell · 2 years ago

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Do you think Armand knows or understands that he was groomed by Marius? I think often about how Marius’ “education” for Armand only served to reinforce old traumas and provide new ones. The healthiest education Armand received in Venice in terms of socialization and emotional well-being was the little time he spent with the other boys.

Also, thanks for your great writing and posts! They always make me smile!

Girl, first of all, thank you so much for your sweet words! Makes my heart happy 💕 not sure how you'll feel about me by the end of this lol but that's Future!Hekate's problem.

Second, you made me reach for the wine at 5pm. How could you?

Tl; dr: Armand does not!

Rambling, long answer below the cut (because apparently my brain chose to ignore my fic-writing plans & do this instead).

Okay, SO… my Marius feelings and takes are complicated (much like Armand’s). But separating from that for a minute, there are a few things I want to break down that hopefully haven’t already been said elsewhere a dozen times (they might be idk I haven’t been active on here that long).

"Does Armand know/think he was groomed by Marius?"

That’s not the read we get from TVA. In fact, up to that point, Venice seems to be the highlight of his very long, tragic life! And it’s understandable.

Even when it upsets me (and it does, often!), when I want to play around in their heads (because tbh once it comes off the page it’s headcanon, so I do what I can to try and get a decent read that makes sense with respect to characterization), I have to make allowances for their individual time periods and experiences.

Armand would have very little reason to know (care about) anything relating to psychology, child development, or trauma, even. Those are human concepts that don’t apply to him. Most of the way he behaves is logic-driven (not that his logic isn’t faulty sometimes lol he’s weird, even by vampire standards). I doubt he would see any sense in exploring this 500 years after the fact, after much worse stuff happened.

"Marius’s 'education'"…

I want to preface what I'm about to say by stating that I have zero stake in this game! This isn’t a ship I write about or want to write about, and I’ve never had any big feelings about what other people ship (it just wasn’t a “thing” back in the day in VC so this is new to me now that I’m rejoining the fandom lol). I’ll enjoy it if it’s well-written in fanon though.

This is the repetitive part: Marius is coming at this from the perspective of being a 1500 vampire. I’ve said many times that I don’t think Armand truly realized how far he was pushing Daniel over the emotional/psychological limits of a human being. I think that applies to Marius and Amadeo as well, to an extent.

Marius thinks that he’s providing Amadeo with a good life, and in a lot of ways, he is—by the textbook definition. He’s getting a very well-rounded academic education, he’s socializing, etc. Marius essentially sees Amadeo as a blank canvas, given from what he can tell from his mind (and again, the concept of trauma wasn’t something that would’ve occurred to anyone a few centuries ago, it just didn’t exist). Adding to this, wasn’t uncommon for brothels at the time to be used to supplement a sexual education, in the most literal sense of the phase. As far as Marius is concerned, he’s going the extra mile to prepare Amadeo for the world (yeah, I know).

As for the traumas themselves, I think I know what you’re getting at (but correct me if I’m wrong!)…

So Amadeo is 15 when Marius rescues him; his mental state is in pieces, and he doesn’t know his ass from his elbow. Marius absolutely sees him as a kid, in the same sense that Armand and the other vampires later see Daniel as a “boy.” He’s not thinking child development here, he’s thinking about what would settle him down and feel good to a messed up human being (having not been one himself for over a thousand years).

Anne was clearly a sex-positive writer, and there’s something to be said for the idea of “replacing” a traumatic memory with a more pleasurable one. Unlikely that Marius was thinking about it in those terms (he was not, we know this), but more as so how to distinguish himself as a “man” that didn’t just want to use Amadeo for his body, but to provide him with pleasure (for the first time in his life). Marius gets literally nothing out of this. He could bite him and induce a swoon, and they’re both happy, no further effort required.

Now, what I think are the Marius traumas...

We know that Marius really Struggles With His Emotions. And he doesn't ever seem to make any real sense of progress there (Pandora and Armand can attest). I've said before (on your post actually lol), Marius is the parent that you don't realize how fucked up they are until you grow up and it's like, "Oh wow, that's why I am the way I am. Whoops!"

Amadeo has human needs and longings for validation, attention, and connection, and Marius just absolutely misses the mark here. The switch scene and the return from Kiev scene are perfect, heartbreaking examples of this (even if Amadeo is a new fledgling in the second instance, his mind hasn’t lived beyond 18 years yet). And Marius does seem to regret his outbursts afterward (it doesn't make it right, but I think it adds a sort of context to the idea he knows he's failing in at least some regard).

And for Armand, it's easy to see how this became his blueprint for what a "relationship" should be. Because he didn't know the behind-the-scenes stuff that was happening with The Parents, he didn't know Marius's own history with kidnapping and cults, etc. And because ultimately, he never had a better reference until much, much later.

In TVA, Armand says he can't claim to never have hated Marius for giving him the Dark Gift, LEAVING HIM IN PARIS, being besties with Lestat... but nothing about their time together factors into it.

By the canon read and my interpretation, Armand doesn't consider himself as having been groomed by Marius in any modern (or otherwise) definition of the word. (And just to throw something else in there, let's not forget what Armand himself did with Denis and the others - now, that's dark!).

~ hekate out

#since this is the week everyone else agreed Vampires are Problematic™️#mildly meta #if y’all think i’m tagging this y’all are nuts

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veryholland · 4 years ago

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prompt #20 from the list! “bandaging/stitching up an injury” maybe with frat!tom getting into a fight or punching a guy from getting too close to the reader at a party? 🤍

sorry i’m spamming ur inbox lol ;p

PEACHY

pairing: frat!tom x reader | word count: 992 | warnings: mild injuries | touch prompts

a/n: liv! thank you so much for requesting this. i planned on writing requests in the order they were submitted but i really couldn't put off yours any longer. more or less by coincidence, this includes @spidey-sophie's request (17: holding the other's chin up) as well, so i hope you don't mind that i combined those! enjoy reading! x

“What the hell, Tom? Do you want everyone to know?”

With a heavy thud, the door of the upstairs bathroom slams shut behind you. The bass of the music can still be heard through the wooden surface but it might as well be the sound of your heart thumping against your ribcage. Inside, the air smells clean. Gone is the unpleasant smell of sweaty bodies grinding against each other and spilt beer. Drawing in a calming breath through your parted lips, you turn around, finally facing him.

You never intended to get involved with a frat boy. In fact, just a year ago you would’ve laughed straight into anyone’s face who even suggested diving into a relationship with a member of the frat – that was until Tom happened.

Whatever it was that the both of you shared, it was hidden away from plain sight. Concealed behind closed doors and treasured beneath sheets.

In the beginning, it was all fun and games. The exhilarating buzz of hiding your infatuation with each other – sneaking into the frat house after curfew to spend just a few treasured hours together, exchanging texts during class when none of your friends were looking and holding back when all you wanted to do was smile at him across the hallway.

All fun and games – until it wasn’t anymore. Looking at his battered and bruised face, you now realise it only led to trouble.

A frown is holding tight over his features, his muscular chest rising and falling with rapid breaths and his grey shirt is rumpled. A few curls are sticking out from beneath his cap, the frat logo woven into its dark blue fabric now almost taunting you. But what draws in your gaze the most, is the nasty cut on his cheek and another one tearing right through his rosy and plump bottom lip.

“Sit down, I can’t look at this,” you say, not even trying to downplay the sharp timbre of your voice. After gathering your hair up into a messy but nowhere near decent bun, you turn to the cabinet, rummaging through drawers in search of a first aid kit.

“No need to fuss, I told you, I’m fucking fine.”

Frustration is clearly layering his words but they are closely followed by a defeated sigh as he slumps down onto the bathtub’s edge.

Pushing around a few toiletries, you finally spot a small bottle of disinfectant and take it out with a short but triumphant hum, before putting it next to the gauze pads you found just a couple of drawers below. After gathering it all in your hold, you close the drawer with a kick of your foot and turn back around just to be met with a sight that pulls heavy at your chest.

His head hung low, Tom is cradling the already peachy and bruised knuckles of his right hand in his left palm, shoulders slumped, gaze fixed onto the ground.

“You would be fine if you hadn’t punched him.” Your voice was now remarkably softer compared to how all of this started out, but you still couldn’t drop the bitter connotation.

Charged silence wraps itself around you as you step closer. For a moment you put the bottle of disinfectant onto the bathtub’s edge, using your free hand to remove his baseball cap, allowing you to get a proper look at his cuts. Your gentle touch is a prominent contrast to your clear irritation as your fingers find his chin, tilting it up slightly.

Once your eyes meet his honeycomb ones – the dark brown colour laced with something unrecognisable – his legs subconsciously part, allowing you to step closer in order to fittingly tend to his wounds.

“This is gonna hurt,” you warn softly, waiting for his nod of confirmation before continuing. Your hand is still cradling his chin as you use the other to dab the gauze pad over the peachy skin around the bruise that now finally stopped bleeding. His eyes flutter shut and a hiss flies past his lips, but he doesn’t flinch away from your touch.

You feel his eyes on you as you work around his face in silence and although you’re still mad, you can’t help but calmly smooth the pad of your thumb over his skin whenever the stinging sensation makes him draw in a sharp breath.

The tip of your tongue pushes past your parted lips in concentration as you dab along the curve of his lip with the last bit of sterile gauze. You turn around to pick up a new pad but his fingers curl around your wrist, effectively stilling your movements.

“I do,” he says, filling the silence, his voice soft and unsure, barely audible. Eyebrows drawn together in confusion, you look down at him.

“I do,” he repeats, voice now layered with more tenacity. “I want everyone to know.”

He stands up, completely ignoring your protests, but you fall silent when his uninjured hand comes up to twist a strand of your hair around his finger and his eyes connect with yours once more, fueling the churning attraction in your belly.

“I want everyone to know that this is about more than just a stupid brawl between frat bros.” He takes a step forward.

“I want everyone to know that when you return to the dorms past curfew, it’s because we couldn’t stop watching love island episodes on my laptop.” Another step.

“I want everyone to know that the hickeys you get asked about by your friends are the marks I put onto your skin.”

„I want everyone to know about you and me.“

He’s been slowly backing you up against the door, hands now braced on either side of your head as your heart picks up speed with every single one of his passing words. Tom pauses, drawing in a deep breath before speaking up again, the timbre of his voice now remarkably soft and airy.

“I want everyone to know that I am in love with you, y/n.”

okay so, here’s that :D getting back into writing really is an unmatchable feeling and i had so much fun writing this. i’m slowly finding my way back into the flow but yeah, let me know if you liked it! tips are always welcome! sending lots of hugs x

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #frat!tom #i had more than this but you know what #from time to time i really vibe with open endings :D #once again didn’t check for typos so you’re welcome to just ignore them haha #also look at my completely unrelated title just because my brain couldn’t come up with one ahhshs

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mango-bango-bby · 4 years ago

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Can I request a part two to Dabi's tinder date with a naive darling? Please make it extra smutty 🙏🙏

♡ Be Mine (Part Two) ♡

(A/N: I kinda got carried away with this one.... and by carried away, I ended up writing 1.6k words. So hope that you like this and that it’s decent. I’m not very good at writing smut)

Summary: After agreeing to be Dabi’s little girlfriend, he decides to show you exactly what couples do for and to each other (Yan!Dabi x Fem!Reader)

(⚠️ Size kink, soft!Dabi, manipulation, corruption kink, innocence kink, virgin!reader, unsafe sex and creampie, very slight NON-CON and DUB-CON ⚠️)

Part One: Here ♡

It feels hot. You’re hot. Everything just feels on fire as Dabi places rough kisses over you neck. You let out a small whine when he bites down on the crook of your neck. “D-Dabi, that hurt” you whimper, looking at your date with teary eyes. Dabi raises an eyebrow at you before lowly chuckling at you, leaving you utterly confused.

“Babygirl” He drawls “Now that your my girl, I’ve gotta show ya’ innocent little mind the ropes” He speaks, biting down on your neck once again. You couldn’t really deny the fact that you were ‘innocent’. You never got any dirty jokes, never got when someone was hitting on you. Not that anyone else would know, but you had also never even masturbated before.

You whimper loudly when Dabi bites down even harder than he had been doing before. “That, angel, is a hickey” He explains, knowing that you clearly don’t know what he’s doing. You only nod your head, still not totally understanding him.

Dabi roughly pulls at your shirt, bringing it above your chest. You let out a yelp, pulling your shirt back down, only to be met with Dabi’s stone-cold-gaze. “C’mon, don’t act all shy on me now, dollface. You were makin’ out with me just a minute ago, don’t you wanna your boyfriend happy?” He asks, resting his hands on your waist and using his thumbs to caress your skin.

You look down, you did just agree to be his. You agreed to be his, so technically now he is your boyfriend. And, that’s what you wanted. Girlfriends were supposed to make their boyfriends happy and stuff, right?

Dabi notices your body relaxing slightly so he reaches up and pulls your top off. Even your bra is cute. Dabi doesn’t even reach behind you to unbuckle your bra, instead opting to tear it in half. Before you can reach down to cover your chest, he grabs your wrists, so you can’t shield yourself from him.

“Hey, princess?” Dabi asks, you hum in response, not wanting to look at his face out of embarrassment. “You ever touched yourself, baby?” He asks, his voice still staying completely calm even though you let out a loud flustered squeak. You turn your head away from him, letting a small “no” slip from your lips.

“No, hmm?” Dabi ponders. He had been stalking you for a while before your ‘dates’, so he had known that you were naive and innocently had his suspicions that you were a virgin but this confirmed it. “You haven’t done this before?” He asks, leaning his face dangerously close to yours while he shoves his hand down your skirt and panties. Gently and teasingly rubbing your cunt through the thin fabric of your undergarments. You moan at the unknown sensation and throbbing between your thighs.

You shake your head ‘no’ and bite your lip at the sensation. Dabi takes this a step further, ripping your panties off, now only leaving you in your skirt. Dabi let’s out a dark snicker, already feeling the slick coating his fingers. He thinks about fingering you but then he’d be wasting your virginity on his fingers.

You avert your eyes when Dabi pulls off his raggedy shirt. Even just him being shirtless is enough for you to feel incredibly flustered and hot. “D-Dabi?” Your voice small and fragile, much like your demeanor at the moment. “What?” His voice rumbles.

“D-Do we have too?” You whimper, Dabi roughly placing his thumb on your clit, rubbing slow circles on the bud. “Of course we do, bunny. You’re mine, right?” He asks, you nod your head up and down. You were technically his girlfriend now, right? “So why can’t I show my girl how much I love her?” Dabi raises an eyebrow. You look down before you mutter out an ‘ok’ of confirmation. You may be innocent but you still had basic sex-ed and knew where this was going.

Dabi lets a smirk crawl onto his face. He doesn’t even bother to take his patched pants all the way down, only enough to let his cock spring free. He truly couldn’t wait to ravish you, he’s been watching you for so long. Too long, in his opinion.

You let out a audible gulp, staring for moment before speaking up. It’s just so big. “How i-is that supposed to f-fit?” You whisper, yelping when Dabi grabs your hips to pull you closer to him. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about, doll. I can, and will, make it fit” Dabi smirks, cupping your cute face with one of his hands.

You whimper when you feel his warm tip press against your cunt. You know that sex is a normal thing in relationships but you just agreed to be his only a few minutes ago. “W-Wait-!” you begin before Dabi rough pushes into, you letting out a chocked sob and Dabi groaning at the sound and feeling. “S-Stop, it hurts” you whisper, tears falling down your face. Looking down, you can see that only the tip is in.

“I know, sugar. Don’t worry, it’s supposed too” Dabi leans forward, sweetly kissing away the stray tears on your face. “Damn, so tight” he mutters under his breath. The sweet gesture having you relax slightly in his hold, only to stiffen back up when he begins pushing in more.

You let our more whimpers while Dabi quietly shushes you, gently rubbing your clit while he pushes farther into you. “How’s it feel, babygirl?” Dabi asks, loving the clouded look in your eyes. You think for a moment before answering quietly, “Feels... feels full”

“Well, I can guarantee that I can make you feel even more full, princess” Dabi chuckles as he begins moving inside of you. You throw your head back, your body quivering as you feel him repeatedly press against your cervix as he thrusts.

You keep letting out repeated pants and chocked moans while Dabi molests your body. “What? You like it when I fuck your virgin pussy, baby? How cute, sweets” He coos while you nod your head, back arching to press yourself against his body. You want him to hold you and he does.

“Feels good” You moan, tightly holding to the couch cushions beneath you for support. Dabi hums before letting out a low groan when he feels your walls squeeze around him. “Yeah, bunny?” He snickers, listening intently to the small gasps and shy moans coming from your plush lips. Looking down at your stomach, he can feel himself get more hard when he sees the bulge every time he thrusts.

More tears than before begin falling down your cheeks as Dabi rocks his hips into yours faster. The top of his cock roughly brushing your cervix over and over again. Your stomach begins to feel knotted as your crotch begins throbbing more than it already has been.

“No, st-stop, it feels weird, Dabi” you mutter, pushing against Dabi’s chest with your much smaller hands. “Fuck” Dabi growls, feeling you clamp down on him “Shh, this is what’s supposed to happen, angelface” He comforts. By the way your squeezing him, it’s clear that the ‘weird feeling’ is your incoming orgasm. Not that you knew.

“You’re about to cum, sweetheart. C’mon, gimme your first orgasm” Dabi encourages, aggressively pushing and rubbing your clit with his fingers. You wiggle your body trying to get even more friction than you were already getting. Dabi only keeps giving words of encouragement, “You can do it, doll. Be a good girl”.

It’s only a few seconds before your orgasm actually arrives. A white light bursting behind your eyes as you sob out in pleasure. Dabi only continues fucking you through your orgasm, chasing after his own high. Not that he didn’t enjoy yours. He was truly relishing in the fact that you had just given your stalker (not that you knew yet) your virginity and first orgasm.

After about a minute or two you finally slump against Dabi and the cushions, letting out continuous moans as he continues thrusting into you, now focused on his enjoyment instead of yours. “Dabi” you whine, feeling overly sensitive after such an experience. “Shh, I’ll be done in just a minute, princess” Dabi shushes, placing a scarred finger over your lips “You’re such a good girl, baby. Cumming for me and letting me use you” he praises, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead.

You let out a loud cry when you feel Dabi throb inside of you before hot ropes of cum spurt inside of you. If you thought you felt full before, you sure did now. Even though you did practically nothing, you still feel completely exhausted. And, it’s clear that Dabi knows this.

“I’m sleepy” you mutter, leaning forward and burying your face into Dabi’s shoulder. “I bet you do, babygirl. Why don’t I put you to bed?” He asks calmly. You let out a small ‘thank you’. Dabi smiles, you didn’t lose you cute manners even after getting fucked.

You sleepily murmur against Dabi’s shoulder, not fighting back when Dabi reaches down and picks you up bridal-style. A small bead of cum coming down your thighs. Dabi wishes he could go for a few more rounds but he knows he’ll have much more with you. Maybe even some sleepy sex tomorrow morning. He’ll have more rounds with you tomorrow, especially since you’re not going home any time soon.

Dabi knows that you’ll probably be upset when he locks you in the apartment tomorrow and chains you up. However, you probably shouldn’t gone home with a man who you went on two dates with and seemed to know you just a bit too well.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

#soft yandere #yandere bnha #dabi smut #yandere dabi smut #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere!dabi #soft yandere Dabi #yandere x reader

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deidearly · 4 years ago

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Kakashi Relationship Headcanons

Guess who’s back with another relationship headcanon today? And as usual, I had a good time writing this one even got slightly carried away, hehe. Enjoy! XX.

Well— Hatake Kakashi, huh? Dating him would be such a roller coaster ride, tbh. It’s like, one moment he’s so clingy, fragile, so afraid of losing you— but one moment he’s like, “Just do what you need to do. I don’t really care.” This is due to the fact that he’s got a lot of things in his mind and occasionally struggled to sort out his priorities.

Anyway, of course you’ve complained about his ‘reading-smut-in-public’ issue, especially when you’re together. You two would come up with an agreement somehow. But to piss you off, he’d pretend like you’re the one who’s obsessed with reading smuts.

You’re browsing for some important books and he playfully yelled, “Y/N! Come here, it’s your favorite book— Icha Icha Tactics! My, I know you’ve had four books, but another one won’t hurt, right? Since you love it that much!” making everyone in the bookstore giggled.

He received “Y/N Signature Punch” that day.

To your surprise, he’s not very secretive about his relationship with you. In fact, you’ve caught him frequently use you as an excuse for him to escape some unwanted occasions.

Let’s say Gai was asking Kakashi to fight him like usual— and he wasn’t having it that day. “Gai, with all respect— I would gladly accept your challenge. But can’t you feel the springtime of romance youth is blooming? I must see Y/N immediately.”

Gai’s tearing up.

Don’t worry, he actually went to your place.

“Yo. Can we hang out? I just told Gai that I would come to your place. Please say ‘yes’ to make me less of a jerk, will you?”

Would totally show up in front of your place at an ungodly hour.

At first it surprised you but now you’re used to it.

You just finished your mission, it went pretty well but you felt there were some wasted chances due to your captain’s miscalculation. It’s nearly 2 AM but you caught yourself wide awake, reviewing back your battle– only to got distracted by a knock on your bedroom’s window. Instead of turning your head in surprise, you already knew who it was. To have a little fun for yourself, you ignored the sound, which was later followed by a second knock. Walking over to the window, you saw a silver-haired man with a mask. Although half of his face was covered, it’s obvious that a smile was apparent. “Yo.” he greeted, but you replied with a sigh. “You could actually knock on the door and I’d let you in through the door. It’s something normal people would do, Kakashi.” you grumbled, opening the window for him to get in. “Ah, spare me the lecture!”

So, reverse psychology works best for Kakashi. Like the Icha Icha Tactics– the more you ignore his behavior, he would actually try not to read his book in public like you told him to. But the more you complain, he’d read it in places where he shouldn’t be reading it at all. This method works in almost every cases.

You’ve been dating for weeks, but you haven’t seen his face.

Yes, when kissing, too.

You’ve had enough of kissing fabric.

You had planned to make a dinner together at his place. He was preparing the dishes and you’re about to finish your cooking, when he suddenly asked, “Hey, Y/N. Have you ever wondered what would I look like under this mask?” You were dying to know actually. So, now you’re stuck with two options: (a) be honest about it, (b) pull out another reverse psychological answer— and you chose the latter. “Huh? Not really,” you shrugged, “I don’t really care so it’s not like I’m eager to see it.” and of course, this was a lie. Kakashi went silent for a while. “Anyway, dinner’s re—“ you swore you could’ve dropped the whole pan when you saw an unfamiliar presence. “Kakashi?” you asked hesitantly. The man looked up with a questioning look, “Why are you blushing?” he replied casually.

“ANYONE WITH A DECENT EYESIGHT WOULD BLUSH TOO, YOU STUPID.”

He’s honestly so heavenly to look at.

Sometimes it’s just too overwhelming to see his whole face, you thought.

It’s safe to say that it’s a privilege to be able to see his face. But due to his immense charm, you’d prefer to have him with a mask on.

“Y/N, I feel naked without my mask—“ , “And I honestly feel like I’m being forced to see an illicit nudity, too. Put your mask on, it’s fine honestly.”

He’s been very good at his job for almost his whole life, a fine shinobi. So, he’s rarely exposed to mundane things, moreover a relationship. Thus, making him quite restrained in expressing himself. Plus, he was labelled with some negative titles, saying how cold-blooded he was and he just decided to live with it. This, obviously, requires a lot of patience.

But he’s determined to change, the first step he took was letting you in— into his life.

It started rocky, though.

He’d say something like how he didn’t care much about you and sadly, he really didn’t.

But as the time went by he realized how your presence has been the one that helped him through it. How you’ve always been there to comfort him, by listening to him, giving him a lot of supports, or simply by reminding him that he’s not completely alone.

And when that moment came, he’s sworn to protect you with all his might.

He had a lot of nightmares, he still does, unfortunately. But when you’re around, your presence eases him up a little.

When you’re not around, however, he’d rather spend all night unhealthily tiring himself until he fall asleep.

His personal favorite would be curling up next to you with his hand around your waist while hiding his face near the crook of your neck as he’s giving you some soft neck kisses.

Again, NECK KISSES.

He had a hard time trying to open up himself fully to you and this applies to romantic gestures, I believe. He surely would take his time to explore you, what you like, and what he likes.

Would shower you with kisses, all over your face without missing a spot. He greatly admires every inches of yourself.

Body worship, oof.

Lowkey (semi highkey) protective.

Lowkey (semi highkey) a show-off.

Would straight up jump to save you if it’s necessary.

And since he’s a show-off, he lowkey loves PDA— but the soft ones, of course. You two would always get spotted together. He would casually sling his arm around your shoulder or lazily has his hand wrapped around your waist.

Favorite time to spend with you is training together. No matter how many times you’ve told him to “fight with an intent to win” he simply refuses— saying how, he’s “far too powerful” for you.

But deep down he just doesn’t want to hurt you…

Chatting in the middle of a training

“Tsunade-sama hasn’t assigned me any missions lately *throws kunai*” , “Maybe if you threw your kunai accurately, she will. *dodge kunai*” , “Kakashi, shut your pretty mouth up. *throws MORE kunai aggressively*”

When you turned him down while he was showing off his new tricks, though, it weirdly turned him on.

He loves someone powerful, with a right amount of cocky.

Doesn’t talk big. He’s a man of action— his action speaks louder than words!

Doesn’t spoil you that much, though. Because it’s actually him who needs to be spoiled.

Really loves it when you trace your fingers all over his skin— it’s intimately soft, he claimed.

LOVES YOUR SCENT. Has it memorized probably.

He’d prefer someone independent. Someone who could actually take care of themselves instead of relying on him completely.

Anyone too childish would remind him of Team 7, tbh.

Speaking of Team 7, they would probably be the one to get introduced to you.

Naruto was so shocked to find out that his sensei was capable to develop a romantic feeling towards someone. But he had his doubt— do you really know Kakashi? He started to bombard you with questions to test your knowledge.

“So, do you know what’s Kakashi Sensei’s favorite—“ , “I’ve seen his face. Multiple times.” , “YOU WHAT?”

Complained and sulked about it, “Kakashi Sensei, we’ve trained together for years. How could you?!”

Sakura was confused.

“How? I know he’s probably very handsome under that mask but come on, Y/N, reading smut in public? That’s an absolute no.”

On the contrary, Sasuke was thrilled, internally.

“Yeah. Finally. Old man has someone to annoy besides us. About time.”

He has a pretty bad behavior, too. Unlike Gaara, who’d put an emotionless facade when he’s only in the Kazekage mode, Kakashi would treat you just how he feels like doing it that day.

Let’s be real, he has so many bottled up feelings inside his heart so it’s not a surprise that someday, somehow, a random painful emotion just hit him— hard, and he shut himself out.

The hospital is the place you immediately visit right after Kakashi’s arrival after a mission because you know he’d be there— reading his book with a few bruises here and there. But this time was a bit different. When he’s hospitalized, he would whine about you not being able to stay more than an hour— but right now you’re puzzled, since he’s been completely silent and avoiding you, answering your questions with a mere shrugs.

Tsunade told you that the mission went pretty well, thanks to Kakashi for eliminating all the enemies on the field, singlehandedly. You automatically knew that it must brought up his past traumas. “Kakashi, it’s not your fault.” you decided to speak, earning a glance from Kakashi, but that’s it. “It’s a mission and you protected all of your comrades!”

“I killed them, Y/N. I didn’t have to, but I did.” he said, with his eyes still glued elsewhere. “Every time I look at my hands, I feel dirty. It reminded me of that—“, “Kakashi, look at me.”

You moved closer to his bed, reaching out your hand and traced your fingers softly on his face. His cheeks were cold, and you could clearly see how he was slightly trembling with teary eyes. “Kakashi, if you didn’t do it— it could’ve been your own comrades. Now they’re safe and sound, thanks to you.”, you paused as he slowly began to move his sight to you. “And if I could meet you way sooner, I would remind you every day that it’s never your fault— it’s never been. You’re a good person, Kakashi. I, and all of us, are forever thankful for the things you’ve done.” you whispered, now wiping a few tears that fell down to his cheeks. A weak smile started to bloom, “I’m forever thankful for you as well, Y/N.”

#naruto #boruto #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi x y/n #kakashi headcanons #kakashi imagines #headcanons #kakashi

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ruki--mukami · 2 years ago

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If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymous or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog!

🧩 Thank you for sending me this, Admin Tea!

Well… Let’s see, I’ll try to think of more that I haven’t already shared.

1. While I haven’t been on too many vacations in my life, so far I have visited Canada, Japan, and the Philippines. I hope to visit Europe one day! Canada is a beautiful country from what I remember, though the last time I went must’ve been when I was 11 years old. As for Japan, I went there when I was 17 and I got to visit all kinds of historical as well as other fun sites such as the Pokemon Centers located all throughout. My only regret is that back when I was 17, I had the type of phone that could only take photos with 500x700 resolution. 💀 So yes, while I took a decent amount of pictures to commemorate my time there, they all have such subpar quality which makes me want to go back to Japan soon SJSJSJ. As for my time in the Philippines, well… It was definitely a cultural shock for me. I literally became Shu and napped half the days I was there though because there wasn’t much we could do in terms of sightseeing at the time.

2. For a mandatory school project, I once entered a history competition in which high school students could either submit an essay, an exhibit, a performance, or a video documentary and the judges would give you feedback and even advance you to the next level of the competition if you outdid the other contenders. Of course, I was the only one in my class who submitted a paper, because no one considered writing their strong suit I guess. And what do you know, my only other competitors were four students from a very rich and esteemed academy, yet I still managed to get 2nd place! It was a very exciting time. I share this because I vividly remember a girl around my age, possibly younger, taking notes (?) on my paper and I was just like… Is it really that great? lmao but hey at least it’s the little things like that that led me to believe “maybe I can run a blog after all.”

3. I’m actually an only child, and I’m sure it shows. Unless you count a half-brother and a step-brother, but I don’t since they have their own families now and live away from the area. I mention this because it’s fun for me to portray Ruki, the eldest of four brothers, ahaha. Truth be told I have no idea what it means to live with many siblings but I try my best to understand. And this will probably sound really selfish, but I quite enjoy being the only child. Having to share your possessions with your siblings, as well as a potential inherent rivalry I’d rather not deal with, all sound like nightmares to me. 🧩

“Rivalry…? Not all sibling relationships immediately result in a competition, Admin. Just look at my brothers and I; clearly we get along despite their noise and occasional horseplay. Who knows, maybe having a younger sibling would teach you some maturity and sense of responsibility for once.”

🧩 I— *hides the psychological articles I’ve read about siblings* ANYWAY, 🧩

#the admin speaks #ruki and admin shenanigans #yourlocaltea

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storiesofsvu · 3 years ago

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Classified Affairs Ch 15

Heather Dunbar x fem!reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, mention of degradation, mention of smut, angst/feels, mentions of weed. There’s just a lot of thoughts. a/n: for the love of all things holy (and this is not directed at most of you who are reading this) please don’t fucking come into my inbox/dm’s/replies about how this dynamic is toxic/abusive. I clearly *know* that. I am writing the story after all. Either read it and wait for the next ch’s to be uploaded to see how things are going to work out, or stop reading. We all knew from the very beginning that Heather was married, and making yn sign multiple contracts/NDA’s. She was never that great of a person. Obvi this is stretching her evilness past what canon does, and making her a little more bad. I’ve written other stories that make her much more “good” than canon, and have with other characters as well. So….yeah…deal with it, or don’t….

Groaning, you rolled over in your bed, your head was cloudy, a dull throbbing in your skull, your mouth dry and pasty. You were already regretting how you’d chosen to cope the previous night and you’d barely woken up. Rubbing at your eyes you blinked them open, reaching for your phone, it was just past noon and you wished you were still asleep, but you knew you should take advantage of your day off to get things set up for next week.

After a pit stop in the bathroom to freshen up, you left the bedroom, expecting to find Becca still on the couch. Instead, you were met with a neatly folded blanket on top of the pillows you’d given her, a little note on the top with her writing scrawled across it

‘Had a couple of afternoon classes I couldn’t miss, needed to take off. See you tomorrow’ with a little smiley face at the end of it.

You let out a sigh, wiping your hands over your face as you trudged into the kitchen, thanking God that you still had Pedialyte in the fridge. Though you hadn’t been the one to buy it, Heather had put a decent sized stock in your kitchen after your seven a.m bedtime, half of you thought it was in a near teasing way. As you sipped back the beverage you leant back against the counter, your eyes staring into space as your mind clouded over. The apartment felt overbearingly empty, and in that moment you felt immensely alone. You could feel yourself starting to crumble apart at the seams, unsure if you were going to be able to hold yourself up through the rest of the week.

The distraction of Becca and scary movies had helped you push your issues to the back of your brain the night before, the added bonus of the weed and drinks clouding your thoughts, making you focus on the good. Now, your home felt too quiet, too lonely, as your eyes focussed on the patio door you noticed even the weather seemed to agree with your mood, the sky overcast, rain strumming against the glass. Your emotional hangover was, without a doubt, far worse than your physical one.

Your mind thought back to the previous evening, Heather’s words ringing through your brain, despite the desire to not relive that conversation, you could still hear her voice, loud and clear, remembering each horrible word that spilled from her lips. Your vision blurred slightly with tears, everything was such a fucking mess right now. You wondered if you had admitted feelings on a different day if she would have reacted the same way or not, if it was the fact that she was already mad and upset, that maybe her extra harshness was part of the punishment she was giving you. As bad as it was, you didn’t want to lose what you had with her, as you’d said to Becca, the sex was incredible, and you honestly enjoyed the nights out, and didn’t mind the way that she doted on you, kept an eye on you to make sure you were taking care of yourself.

It was something entirely new to you and you weren’t used to it at all. Losing your Mom at such a young age had been one thing, but having your Dad kick you out at sixteen had left you feeling pretty fucking worthless when it came to relationships. You struggled trusting people, that they weren’t just going to abandon you out of the blue. Heather had taken you under her wing, made sure you had a nice place to live, that you constantly had healthy food, and were always safe, that surely had to mean you meant more than just her ‘sex toy’, right? Why would she keep such a watchful eye over you if the only thing you were for were sex? Sure, maybe you weren’t friends with benefits, but maybe fuck buddies was a more appropriate (though juvenile) title for what you had going on. Then again, it was pretty self explanatory, you were her sugar baby, there was no doubting that.

Your fingers gripped around the plastic bottle in your hand as you swiped a pop tart from the cupboard, not even bothering to toast it before you crossed the room and dropped down onto the couch. Flicking on the t.v in an attempt to distract yourself again you sunk into the cushions, your emotions still getting the best of you as the tears started to slowly streak over your cheeks. You knew keeping this going was probably not the greatest idea, but at least Heather said she would give you space and time to heal from her not reciprocating your feelings. That wasn’t even what was really bothering you, you were fine with her not feeling the same way about you, going into this you knew she was married, and had been for over twenty years already, that wasn’t about to change just because you came along. It was much more the way she’d treated you, you knew that it was much more stemming from the fact that she thought you had gone and broken a couple of rules, that her anger was coming in as a warm up to whatever punishment she had been planning for your bad behaviour. You honestly had no problem continuing to be her little sex toy, hell, you enjoyed it, the benefits outweighed everything else. You’d shoved your feelings deep down to be ignored forever before, and you were sure you could do it again. However you couldn’t help the new wave of tears as her words replayed through your memory.

‘God you’re pathetic.’

‘I thought you were better than this.’

Words, phrases that you felt like you’d heard far too many times over in your lifetime. Sometimes it was at work, where you could just shrug it off with a scoff and an eye roll, even if it was something under your control, you’d never let customers get to you as badly as they did when you first started serving. It was hearing someone who you personally knew, someone who was supposed to care about you, or that you thought did, use comments like that just to drag you down even further. You’d heard similar things from your Father before he’d slammed the door in your face, cutting you off forever. Sure, you had thick skin, but they still stung.

You knew Heather was rough, you knew just how derogatory she was in the bedroom, but this was the first time she’d insulted you in a situation totally not related to sex and something about that did bother you. It also just purely annoyed you that she’d gone through your phone, though, as you’d mentioned to Becca, you had left it unlocked and on the table. Your hand wiped away a tear, reaching out to your phone, opening it and swiping over to the settings, changing the lock code just in case Heather had managed to figure it out. Just to be safe, you put a lock on a couple of apps, and changed a couple of other’s passwords. You could at least hold onto one shred of privacy, Heather hadn’t bought you the phone, nor did she cover that bill (technically), you deserved a bit of your life to remain out of her spotlight. That was…if she would be returning.

You ended up passing out on the couch for a few hours, thankful that your hungover body was letting you sleep some of this off. Waking up, your stomach was growling heavily but you really didn’t have it in you to actually cook, shooting off a quick order for pizza on your phone as you regained your bearings.

It finally felt like your brain was actually fully functioning as you putted around the condo, tidying up from the previous night, tossing your laundry into the washer and attempting to gear up for the week of work ahead. It was as you paid for the pizza, tucking the debit card into your wallet that you realized it was the one your allowance came in on from Heather. You felt your heart jump into your throat, dropping the pizza box on the kitchen island briefly as your chest started to tighten. If Heather called your arrangement off…what exactly did that mean for you? When she said she ‘owned’ you she really wasn’t kidding, and wasn’t just talking about sex. You hadn’t signed anything for the condo, it was all in her name, the car had been a gift, at least the insurance was in your name, but it still came from her. The allowance she gave you was nearly double what you made in a week from your two jobs, and you’d finally been able to live not paycheque to paycheque because of it. You had a savings built up thanks to her, for the first time in your life, although…it was all in the account that she had all the banking info for. You made a mental note to start to trickle it into your personal one that she didn’t have access to, just in case. While you started to panic over the fact that your name wasn’t on any paperwork, the logical side of your brain reminded you of a piece of paperwork your name certainly was on.

Abandoning your dinner for a moment you hurried over to your desk, shifting through files in the drawer before you pulled out the blue folder, the one holding both the NDA and the contract Heather had you sign at the beginning of this whole endeavour. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you flipped to the contract, your eyes skimming the pages until you found it.

‘If/when this arrangement comes to a close…’

You let out a huge sigh of relief, the legal and binding contract stating that you would remain in possession of anything that had been bought or given to you during the time you were participating with Heather. You owned the right to them, and the right to do whatever you wanted with the allowances she had given you. Though, your gut was still telling you to tread lightly, if she could switch gears so quickly like she had the previous night, she could probably swindle you out of a lot of things. She was the one who’d gone to law school, who’d practiced law for a decade before she got to where she was today. And you’d never be able to bring your case to a lawyer because of the NDA, you were wondering if she’d somehow fucked you over before you’d even managed to realize it with loopholes.

You reminded yourself that while she may be the owner of the condo, she still had you sign a rental agreement at the start of all this, so that it looked less suspicious to the outside eye. She may have a heavy control over you, but you still had your rights, if things went south, you knew you’d be able to figure something out.

With the assurance that you wouldn’t lose it all if you couldn’t shove your feelings aside, or make them disappear, you relaxed a bit, grabbing a cider from the fridge before you settled on the couch with your pizza. All you wanted was for this drama to be done with, and for now, all you could do was give yourself time.

The following week and a half felt incredibly weird.

You worked most of the time, had your hangout with Becca after work on Sunday. (You opted for a casual dinner out at a neighbouring pub followed by the newest release at the movie theatre you were both into), you’d briefly discussed how things were going with your ‘not-girlfriend’, though you didn’t indulge any further into the actual interaction with Heather. Becca already thought going through your phone was crossing the limit, you didn’t want her to press you for more. Otherwise, you kept your head down, did your job, and made as much money as you could, picking up a few extra hours here and there when you could. Your anxiety whenever you were at Salt Line was higher than you would’ve liked, and you were popping more Ativan than normal to get through the shifts, but you never knew if Heather was going to pop up for lunch. Despite knowing she said she would give you space, if a colleague insisted on coming in for lunch and it was a working lunch or meeting, she would have no choice but to invade your space before you were ready.

Though, the weirdest thing was the absolute cut off of communication.

There were no ‘Good night Mommy.’ Or ‘Good Morning kitten’ texts daily, there was no checking in, no asking if you’d eaten that day. Out of worry of more punishment, you had kept tracking your food, and making sure you did your workouts, but there were never any comments about either. Even on the day you didn’t track anything until ten p.m, and your intake for the day was a sugary Frappuccino, McDonald’s for lunch and pizza for dinner (alongside a six pack of beer) it was pure radio silence. There were no questions or reminders to go to bed when you stayed up far into the early hours of the morning, or when you slept until the mid afternoon. The absence of Heather in your life felt strange, you willed yourself to not miss it, and honestly, you didn’t really, sometimes the texts got annoying, especially if you were working late, or she didn’t know the circumstances. But the entire thing was…different to what you’d become accustomed to over the last almost year.

Currently, you were getting ready for work, having already changed into your black on black skirt and tank, hair pinned back neatly as you started your make up in the ensuite. You still had at least an hour until you had to leave, but you wanted to make sure you were ready, and honestly, you’d been doing more makeup recently to distract yourself from everything else going on (and in hopes of getting higher tips in case shit hit the fan). That, and Becca had introduced you to a few new makeup brands and hacks through Tik-Tok you never would have known about otherwise. You had Spotify going on your phone, but your ears pricked up at what you could have sworn was the sound of the door opening, your brow furrowed at the definite sound of a heel on the hardwood. Your makeup was nearly done, just contour and highlight left to be done, brush in your hand as you stepped out of the bathroom, your head popping out of the bedroom door, not surprised when it was Heather in your condo, but also surprised that she was actually there.

“Oh..” she glanced up at the movement out of the corner of her eye, “I didn’t think you’d be home. You’re usually working.”

“I swapped to the dinner shift.” You replied, moving into the room, “if…you didn’t think I was home…why…are you here?” Your head titled, your voice soft as you questioned her.

“Your prescription is about to run out.” She pulled a bottle from her purse, placing it on the kitchen island, “or at least I figured you might need a little back up before it did, all things considered.” She then dropped the grocery bag she was carrying onto the other counter, “and I figured you probably didn’t have a lot of healthy food. I thought I’d drop it off for you while you were out.”

“Thank you.” There was a brief pause as you lingered in the doorway, Heather beginning to tuck things away into your fridge and pantry.

“Have you had some time to think kitten?” She asked, straightening up as she turned to look at you, nearly smirking at the confusion written across your face.

“About?” Honestly, your brain was so scrambled from the sight of her in your apartment you’d practically forgotten about the past two weeks.

“Do you think you’ll be able to keep this going?” She folded up the now empty grocery bag, “I don’t need it to be right away. I know things can take time, but I am curious as to where you’re at.”

“I would really like to M’am.”

“Good.” She smiled, and you could see the gleam in her eye.

“But….I…do have some…questions? Stipulations maybe?” You avoided her gaze as you stepped into the room.

“About what kitten?”

“Well..I guess first off…I really don’t like that you went through my phone. I’d understand more if it was something you’d gotten for me, but I’ve always been responsible for it on my own.”

Heather let out a soft sigh, her eyes closing briefly as she thought over her next words, wondering if she could even say them, if they would come out sincere or not.

“I…I’m sorry.”

“What?” You were instantly taken aback.

“Let me finish.” She shot you a half glare that was enough to shut you up instantly, “my curiosity got the best of me. You’d been texting with that girl all night, you had this..stupid little smile on your face every time she’d send you something, and that worried me. I thought for sure you were seeing someone, the opportunity simply presented itself when you didn’t lock your phone and then left the table. I shouldn’t have snooped.”

“Okay…” you wavered, “and…when we got back here? Did you really mean everything you said?” You dared to glance up at her, begging the emotion you felt bubbling within you to stay down, you couldn’t afford to ruin your make up now.

“Tensions were high honey….I was convinced you’d broken more than a few rules, that you were seeing someone else, if not multiple people and I let that get the best of me. The way you were acting made me feel inadequate, like you weren’t getting enough from me.”

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, glancing down.

“Kitten, don’t be. I just never realized that someone could actually feel that way for me, an alarm went off within me, something didn’t want to believe it. But…”her voice nearly hardened as she spoke, “that cannot change what we’re doing…understood?”

“Yes M’am….”

“If…you’d like to continue?” She raised a brow towards you and you nodded, probably too fast, “you can remove whatever thoughts you have, this can remain just sex?”

“Yes M’am.” You let out a little sigh, “I know you’re married. I should’ve remembered that from the beginning.”

“Good girl.”

You jumped when the alarm on your phone blared through the space, pulling you back into the ensuite for a moment as you silenced it, shoving it back into your purse as you quickly swiped on some highlighter before moving back to Heather.

“I’m gonna be late for work…”

“Alright. Go.” She gestured towards the door, “I’m going to make sure you have food for the week, text me your schedule so I can figure out our next night together.”

“Yes M’am.”

You left the condo in a flurry, partially hating that the conversation had been cut short before you’d really had time to dive into it. Though, Heather was there, she was in your home, making sure you had healthy meals for the rest of the week, bringing you meds that literally saved your mental health, and wanted to continue on with your affair despite the doubts.

That had to count for something.

___________ @lesbianologist @screenee @disaster-and-disgrace @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @laurenhope13 @imlike-so-gaydude @svulife-rl @gay-ass-bitch @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @paulson-hargitay @molllss @solemnnova @svushots @nocreditinthestraightworld @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @thatgaygiraffesquirrelgirl @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @rosiewritesagain @imaginaryoperagloves @wandasbrat @lustvolle-liebe @disn3y7 @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @swimmingstudentchaos891 @anne-gillettes-wh0r3 @season4scullyhair @whimsicallymad @alexusonfire @mmmmokdok @lazarettta @muscatmusic18 @sia2raw @ladysc @dxtery @ms-calhoun @holycrapraewth

#Heather dunbar #heather dunbar x reader #house of cards #classified affairs

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kahrma-a · 2 years ago

Audio

CARRD || PINTEREST

RULES

This blog is strictly for muns who are 21 and over. Chances are, I'm old enough to be your mom, so please respect that I do not want to engage with anyone below that age and even less minors.

This is not a follow for follow blog. I’ll follow back if I feel our muses could have interesting interactions in some shape or form, or because I really enjoy the content of your blog and your writing, so I’ll be lurking for a bit before contacting you. In that same vein, if you unfollow me please soft block me.

I personally do not have any triggers.However be advised that this blog can be triggering. Themes portrayed can and will be dark at times. I tag triggers as word tw. If there’s a trigger you’d like me to tag, don’t be shy to message me! I AM NOT MY MUSE AND SHE IS NOT ME. I do not condone the themes portrayed nor what my muse may do/say.

Banned Fandoms: 13 Reasons Why. Euphoria. Stranger Things (unless I know you or you were recommended by someone I know well). Banned FC’s: Real people and historical figures. (Using Markiplier as your fc for your muse is fine, but if you roleplay as Markiplier himself, that's a big nono for me unless it's one of his roles/characters.)

I will not tolerate hate of any kind of hate on my dash. Anyone partaking in sending hate, slandering someone in any shape or form, and perpetuating drama, as well as vagueing, will be instantly blocked. This also applies to anyone creating callout posts that hold no proof but hearsay. And I will not, under any circumstances, reblog a callout post, so don't bother asking me to do so.

I’m very opened to ships as this blog is multiship. In fact, I love them! That being said, I retain the right to be selective on who I ship Nanno with. I’m always looking for chemistry first. But don’t feel intimidated by that! Sometimes the spark happens at the least expected moments! I will not write any smut on this blog, as while Nanno is clearly much older (she doesn't age), she still passes as a 16/17 year old.

I am slow. Especially at the moment, as my health has been on the decline the last few months. I can take a day, or a month to reply, but know it does not ever indicate how much I like a thread. I go by inspiration in that moment I'm sitting at the computer. I prefer quality over quantity. Sometimes I can write novels, other times, hardly anything.

I practice mains, and I'm giving exclusives another try. However, earning exclusivity is difficult, I won't lie. I need to know you well and trust you. It's something that has burned me in the past and I'd like not to repeat that. For now, since this blog is very new, I have no mains or exclusives.

Most graphics and icons have been made by me unless stated otherwise and are not for the taking. Headcanons are not for the taking either. Artwork made by me is not for the taking either. Icons, dash icon, carrd && mobile/pinned: me. psd used: jaynedits

Lastly: be good. Be excellent with each other. Don't start drama with me or my friends. Stay away if you support homophobia, sexism, ageism,p*dophilia, incest, etc... you get the gist. Basically, just be a decent human being, and treat others as you'd like to be treated. I know I may sound harsh with some of these, but I’m literally just a shy kiwi and chances are I’m more scared of you than you are of me. Thank you for reading through this 500 pages novel (SORRY ;_; ) and remember that I love you and you deserve the best!

#Pinned.#DNI.#2022.29.12

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Eunoia - Harry Styles

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

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

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not needed at all.”

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

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

“Oh, what’s that about?”

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

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Aztecs?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Lilian?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

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

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

“You like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just asked,” he mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

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opalesense · 4 years ago

Text

the last appointment

zhongli & gn!reader

3.4k words • ~25 min. read

summary: as a studious and credible fortune teller in liyue, you discover something about your last client of the week that completely derails your outlook on life.

warnings: liyue arc spoilers, little bit of existential dread, slight mention of family member’s death

notes: might make more parts to this idk? just kinda wanted to dip my toes into genshin writing for the first time!!

LIFE IN LIYUE HARBOUR seemed to be repetitive and mundane. For the past few years, you would wake up, open your fortune telling shop, analyze the futures of your clients using your geomancy, possibly take a stroll around Liyue when you needed to run errands, and then call it a day. You performed the same routine constantly, sometimes travelling beyond the harbor to collect crystals and magical supplies for your shop, but rarely did anything truly change in your routine. If something was off in the slightest, it was never too exciting to note.

As anyone would have suspected, you were tired of your state of limbo in life. Other vision holders seemed to be going on adventures, travelling with companions and exploring the vast mountains and valleys of Teyvat. Other vision holders seemed to be fighting against evil, helping citizens, and saving the world from imminent dangers. You could even recall a recent event where the Qixing had evacuated the harbor to defeat a terrifying sea monster. The Jade Chamber had been sacrificed for the safety of the people of Liyue, and yet here you were, playing with a bunch of rocks for a living. Despite being able to grasp the glowing Geo vision that held your coat together, you could not grasp why you felt doomed to tend to this shop for the rest of your days.

You didn’t know where or how to “start” your life. The small, inherited establishment from your late aunt was located in the small alley of Chihu Rock, practically out of sight from most of the foot traffic in the harbor. Not many people came to visit, though your name was still decently known. In fact, most of your appointments were simply previous clients from your aunt, regulars that relied on her readings for years and believed you were the next best thing after she passed. Especially considering you were the first vision holder in your family, it made your credibility even stronger.

You still remember how you got your vision. The morning after your aunt had passed, the elemental gift somehow made its way into your hand as if the timing was meant to be perfect. You didn’t celebrate such a special and momentous occasion with pride or joy. Your face stiff with tears, you instead reflected on why you received your vision at that moment in the first place. With the shop doors closed upstairs, you gripped your vision and did what you felt needed to be done. With your family’s legacy and tradition on the line, adventuring like other vision wielders was not a priority at the time.

But after years alone of research, a social life consisting only of interacting with customers, and a constant state of grieving the experiences you could’ve had in your youth, you were now in your late twenties and closing the shop for the day. Your last appointment was either extremely late or not showing up at all and you were tired of working today, just like every other day. Regret gripped you tightly as you wondered how you managed to get yourself in such a boring, slow burning loop.

That is until the shop door opened, eliciting a gasp from you at the sudden noise, shattering the previous thought. You accidentally dropped the basket of cor lapis you were refilling and immediately knelt down to pick up the precious pieces that thankfully hadn’t cracked on the way down.

“Hello, [Y/N],” the tall figure practically glided through the doorway, “My deepest apologies for being late.”

He closed the door behind him, “...and for startling you, it seems.”

You sighed, checking for any scratches on the gems and sighed again with relief based on the good results. You grinned to hide the fact you had just been in deep thought. “It’s quite alright, Mr. Zhongli. It’s kind of you to stop by at the very least, even if you’re late.”

Mr. Zhongli was one of your aunt’s longtime clients. Since you were a child, your aunt had always described Mr. Zhongli as a complex yet thoughtful man that had always shown kindness to your family for many years. When Mr. Zhongli learned of your aunt’s death and began to receive readings from you instead, you quickly realized what your aunt meant by calling him complex. Mr. Zhongli was truly a tough nut to crack in every single reading, his sessions taking longer than most other cases. That is why Mr. Zhongli would always offer to take the last spot of the day at the end of every week as to not trouble any of your other clients.

As you took a few of the best cor lapis from the basket, you could see Mr. Zhongli’s acts of kindness and thoughtfulness unfold in front of you. He seemed to carry what was now clearly a gift basket at closer inspection.

“This gift is for you,” Mr. Zhongli took a few steps forward to set the basket on a countertop. “I brought you your favorites. Slow cooked bamboo shoot soup, qingxin, glaze lilies, and all the crystals I could find… needless to say, let this be a token of my appreciation for your patience and hard work from our last few sessions. I know I am not the easiest to read, but you truly have a talent.”

You were speechless at the gesture as your eyes sunk into the intricate detail of the handwoven basket and decorated items inside. No one had ever done something so kind for you in so long. It was astonishing enough that he remembered your favorite soup that you mentioned only once a few months ago, let alone your favorite flowers and crystals as well. “Thank you so much, Mr. Zhongli! I’m at a loss for words – this is so thoughtful of you!”

“I even brought you that Rex Incognito series you had mentioned, although, I am not sure why you would need to read the series when I am fully capable of educating you on the history of Rex Lapis myself,” he flaunted, taking his seat on the cushioned chair in front of the reading table.

“Now, Mr. Zhongli...” you picked out some prithiva topaz from another basket, following the usual protocol you had with such a personalized, frequent client like him. The required materials for his readings were imprinted into your memory like carvings in stone. “You know I don’t want to burden you with my curiosity. And with such an intriguing topic like Rex Lapis... once I start asking questions I’m afraid I will not stop.”

“I have all the time in the world,” he got comfortable in his seat as you sat yourself across from him, “I truly think it would benefit you to discuss the history of Rex Lapis with a learned scholar such as myself. We can even have some tea as we discuss.”

You chuckled at his eagerness. He seemed more forward than usual. “You are too kind, Mr. Zhongli. Perhaps I’ll take that offer someday, but at least let me put those books to good use first. Maybe I won’t need to bombard you with questions if I’m already well briefed on the subject.”

He sighed happily. “You make a good point. And you will enjoy them, I’m sure.”

You settled into your seat as you arranged the crystals between the two of you. “The usual for tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

Your hands meticulously placed the last crystal in its spot on the surface. You closed your eyes and hovered your hands above the rocks, clearing your mind to make way for the usual reading: a reflection on the past, any significant events of the present to focus on, and some insight into the future. You held this hand gesture for awhile, letting the energy from the rocks lift into the air and envelop your gloved palms. When you felt there was enough energy to work with, you opened your eyes to reveal the manifestation of his thoughts in front of you, able to take its physical form using the powers from your glowing vision.

No one had ever taught your this skill, not even your aunt. If you had to bloat your own ego, one could say you invented this Geo fortune telling process yourself. The process indeed came to you naturally, a true display of pure talent.

You slowly lifted your hands to allow the visual manifestation to settle on the table among the gems so Mr. Zhongli could watch his reading unfold in front of him as well.

“Let us analyze the past first,” he spoke, already knowing the routine without you needing to ask him where to start. You slowly waved your hands as if you were digging a hole in sand on a beach, the manifestation displaying ambiguous patterns that wouldn’t make sense to any commoner’s eyes but could be interpreted easily by yours.

Two pairs of focused eyes fixated on the picture as you spoke your mind out loud. “You have recently given up something extremely important to you, it seems. I see you handing over something… small, physically, yet unbelievably significant and personal. I can’t tell what it is exactly, only that it glows like the sun with its energy. But you have handed this important object over to a very... evil... figure?” you cocked your eyebrow, confused. “You seem to be brooding over the fact that its aura is dark with malicious intentions.” You hesitated, “Well, that can’t be right, can it?”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, that is indeed what happened recently. But it had to be done.”

“Didn’t we talk about a similar situation in a previous reading? If I remember correctly, I thought I had advised you to not give up whatever that object was.”

“I am aware of the consequences that will follow. Especially with your future guidance, I’m sure the events following this one questionable decision will unfold in a better way soon enough.”

“I will always be here to help you, Mr. Zhongli. But please be careful in the future with these decisions. The importance of this object seems to be off the charts.”

He nodded. “It is as you say. Please, have faith in me now. I cannot change what happened in the past, after all.”

You hovered over this image of the sacrifice. You couldn’t make out what this object was, no matter how close you tried to inspect it. It had the likings of a chess piece, but surely this wasn’t simply a chess piece, was it?

“Let us move on, if that is alright with you,” his low voice cut the silence.

You wiped the image from your mind and waved your hands again, as if you were slowly putting the sand back into the hole you dug before. If the last image wasn’t enough bad news, this new one that formed was even more painful to witness.

“You have been grieving your losses very recently,” you said gently. “Your mind is currently weighed down by your past. I see you looking out at the sea in deep thought. There are flashes of…”

You stopped as you inspected the graphic images that suddenly appeared beyond your hands. You gasped at the terrifying horrors.

“What is it?” the low voice tried to search for understanding of what you were seeing. Even though the image was clearly laid out in front of him, it was still too ambiguous to tell when he lacked your years of experience.

“There are flashes of war,” your breath stifled as you watched his thoughts splayed out in images of lifeless bodies and destruction. “Very graphic details of war and death. Mr. Zhongli, I believe this image of suffering has been weighing over your mind like an anchor in the sea.”

He paused to process your comparison. “That is... a very good way to put it.”

“Though, I believe that despite the sorrow that emanates in this image, you are in a state of relief and tranquility. It seems you are grieving, but you are simultaneously at peace,” you hesitated again, “Yet I wonder what these graphic images of war are meant to represent. Surely we are not in an actual war, are we? Perhaps you are at war with your past, wanting to move on but haunted by your memories?”

Mr. Zhongli unfortunately knew the images you were seeing were, in fact, real events he had experienced in his life time and the truth was that lately he had been reminiscing on these events. Mortal life is kind to humans for them to be blissfully unaware and carefree of these harsh realities, he internally commented.

He still put your analysis into thought, though.

“I am haunted, indeed. I have been attempting to come to terms with my troubled past, just as you advised me only a few weeks ago. I have tried to follow your guidance, and although they resurface what I have been trying to repress, I believe I am coming to peace with what happened.”

You grinned. “That is very good to hear, Mr. Zhongli. I believe you are currently making good progress when it comes to moving on. Just remember that it is okay to remember your sorrow. Let your emotions pass through you instead of repressing them or rushing to move on. It is okay to take your time and let the thoughts bubble inside of you for awhile.”

He closed his eyes as you continued, letting your advice seep in. You continued. “Imagine the stillness of the sea. Many creatures and lost remnants take their place in the depths of the waters, but on the surface we see constantly moving yet serene waves wash over what is hidden below. Your memories are there to stay, Mr. Zhongli. But your present self, the surface of the water, can peacefully coexist with whatever is hiding deep within. Let these thoughts weigh you down momentarily, but rest assured, you will find balance and acceptance in due time.”

His eyes fluttered open as he reflected over your words. You always seemed to know what to say. “Your words have truly resonated with me, [Y/N]. And you are absolutely correct. I have been fighting these memories to avoid the pain, but it had not dawned on me that sorrow is... what I am meant to feel, not push away. I suppose your advice has put my mind at a bit more ease, and I suppose I am focusing too much on when I will be able to move on rather than allowing my thoughts to coexist for a moment.”

“Now you’re getting it,” you grinned with the relief that washed over his face.

“Shall we move on?” he offered.

You got to work on the last segment of the reading. If manifesting the other images didn’t take long enough, reading one’s future always took the longest. Interpreting an event that hasn’t happened yet always made you a bit nervous with your words. You never wanted to let a client down with an inaccurate reading.

On the contrary, this reading, despite taking quite awhile to appear on the surface on the table, was very clear.

“That is undoubtedly an image of me,” your eyes glazed over the facial features of the person in the manifestation. “I apologize for the delay, Mr. Zhongli, I must have accidentally let my thoughts seep into yours–“

“Do not fret, I believe this is accurate,” he interrupted. “Keep going.”

Your perplexed expression remained as you continued the reading. “I am admittedly stumped. There is nothing left in this image. I suppose it is simply me standing in what looks like some ruins. I am holding a staff, or some kind of long object.” You paused to think out loud. “Why am I in your reading? What could this possibly mean?”

Mr. Zhongli chuckled as you thought out loud. “Perhaps this is a good time to tell you why you are in my thoughts.”

“I’d love to hear it, I have never appeared in someone’s reading in my last decade and a half of experience. This is quite unique.”

He folded his hands in his lap, “For some reason, I have had this strange vision of training you. I’m not sure why, since you don’t seem like the fighting type, but there is some voice inside me that is telling me you are destined for something great and i need to take some part in it. What do you think, now that you see this vision as well?”

Your eyebrows rose in shock. “Training me? I guess this does relate to something I have been pondering as of late. I do not want to lay out my troubles on you though, my job is to interpret your life, not mine.”

“Our lives have clearly intertwined in this vision,” he insisted, “Please do not hold back for my sake. I have the time.”

You thought for a moment. How could you form the words without seeming too selfish? How could you maintain professionalism by talking about your personal problems?

“I am not the fighting type, Mr. Zhongli. Though, lately I have been quite depressed about the fact that I am not doing as much with my vision as other vision holders are. My life is uninteresting. The truth is that I am a simple fortune teller that plays with rocks. I hope you can understand why I am failing to interpret this reading,” you apologized. “It’s because this doesn’t seem characteristic of me at all. And with all due respect, after giving you readings for years, I would have never guessed you were versed in combat to train me!”

He chuckled. “I respectfully disagree. To tell you the truth, your talents surpass the abilities of many other vision holders. Not everyone can read thoughts or tell the future. Now that I mention it, I know of one talented astrologist in Mondstadt, but think about that. You are one in hundreds of thousands in Teyvat,” he reassured. “You did not receive your vision for no reason and I truly believe you are destined for something big. I regret not being able to realize this before.”

“How are you so sure of this? I would love to believe you, but I’m afraid I am not destined for much, really. Again, I am simply a fortune teller. What could I possibly do for Liyue other than read some rocks?”

He sighed and connected his palms with yours, interrupting the reading and wiping the manifestation off the table. The hovering crystals dropped onto the surface, making you gasp at the sudden sound.

“I am not who you think I am,” his amber eyes finally met yours for the first time this evening, which sent a chill down your spine. “Promise me you will not fret, for what I am about to show you may shock you.”

“What do you mean? What are you doing, Mr. Zhongli?” you slightly panicked as he firmly grasped your hands.

Suddenly, the room was engulfed in golden light that emitted from the seat across from you. Scattered, distorted images of a mystical dragon, a devastating war, and seven seats in Celestia flashed across your eyes as you stared at the beams of light. Death seemed to swallow you, but not take you. The baskets of crystals around the room shook with the surge of energy. The world seemed to destroy itself then remake itself over and over again within fleeting moments. These thousands of years of memories made your body tremble. It all happened within fleeting moments, and after a few seconds of your senses being overwhelmed, you finally pulled yourself together and connected the dots.

His expanded knowledge of Liyue’s history. The sudden gift of your vision immediately after your aunt passed. Grieving his losses and having flooded thoughts of war and death. Offering combat training. Remembering your favorites the same way he would remember Liyue’s customs and traditions. His glowing amber eyes alone.

Mr. Zhongli was the God of Contracts and overseer of Liyue. Rex Lapis, a being that lived for millennia, sat in the seat across from you. He had been posing as a mere mortal for years, taking readings as if he were any normal customer. The realization shook you to your core as you sat there bewildered, grateful, and horrified at the same time.

He let go of your hands after seeing that the information successfully processed in your mind. He saw something in you that was yet to be awakened, where the sky was the limit under your own expectations. This daydream of his was no simple vision – it was a calling. Internally, whether you agreed to it or not, he vowed that he would not leave your life until your true destiny was fulfilled.

He would see this vow fulfilled by offering you a contract that would change the course of your life forever.

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #rex lapis #mine #boom #genshin impact x reader

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