#and i was gonna write like 3 things for valentines day but i don’t think any of them are happening 😭

[atlabeth]

a rose and her thorns | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader

summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.

a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao

wc: 3.3k

warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3

You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.

Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.  

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around. 

“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly. 

You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.” 

Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down. 

“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.” 

“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?” 

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?” 

He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.” 

“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice. 

You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.” 

It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning. 

“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?” 

“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.” 

“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?” 

“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.” 

“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line. 

“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!” 

You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.” 

“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket. 

“That’s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.” 

“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.” 

You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.” 

“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.” 

You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.  

“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”

“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement. 

“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.” 

“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.” 

Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged. 

“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. 

You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist. 

“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked. 

“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said. 

“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?” 

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.” 

Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile. 

“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.” 

Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so. 

“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.” 

“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.” 

“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly. 

“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”

You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes. 

“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” 

“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent. 

A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.” 

It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke. 

“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?” 

You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified. 

“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.” 

“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.” 

“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?” 

“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.” 

Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?” 

Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.” 

“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for  a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.” 

“And would you have accepted?” he asked. 

“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.” 

He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you. 

You frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.” 

You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again. 

“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.” 

“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?” 

“Be my Valentine.” 

“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?” 

“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile. 

“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.” 

“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose. 

Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.” 

“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke. 

“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.” 

“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.” 

“Really?” he asked. 

“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose. 

“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.” 

“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly. 

You looked at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—” 

Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.” 

You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.” 

“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.” 

“How’s your schedule?” 

“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.” 

Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?” 

“That depends what it is,” you said. 

“It’s a secret,” he said. 

You stared at him. “A secret?” 

He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—” 

You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”

“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.” 

You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?” 

“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.” 

“You read my mind,” you mused. 

“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?” 

“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.” 

-

Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back. 

You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different. 

(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.) 

Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin. 

“Nice touch.” 

Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.” 

“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.” 

He frowned. “You were actually serious?” 

“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.” 

“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in. 

“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?” 

“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.” 

“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in. 

“He takes that as a compliment?” 

“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up. 

“And he protects you?” she asked. 

You shrugged. “We protect each other.” 

“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted. 

You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?” 

“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.” 

You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy. 

“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.” 

Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.” 

Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.” 

You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.” 

He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.” 

“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.” 

Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.” 

“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly. 

“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!” 

Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning. 

“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.” 

“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.” 

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.” 

“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.” 

He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?” 

You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.” 

“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you. 

“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused. 

His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?” 

“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?” 

Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting. 

He was surely blessed by your mother. 

“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.” 

“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly. 

“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?” 

“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.” 

“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.” 

You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.” 

“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.” 

You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?” 

“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.” 

“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.” 

[sandwhitches]

hii! can i have a cherry popsicle abt suna confessing to the reader but he’s super nervous?? thanks so much! feel free to request smth from me if you’d like to do a little exchange:)

a/n: u must be a mind reader because i’ve LITERALLY been working on this exact prompt omg!!! it’s longer than a drabble (lowkey really long so i just formatted it like a fic☠️) because i already had most of it written when u requested so enjoy :3!! also u BET im gonna send u a request yay!!!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

desc: suna is an idiot and seeks the help of an unlikely (and annoying, in his humble opinion) ally to help him confess to you

content: fem. reader, language, suna’s little sister guest star!!!!! (i love that he canonically has a little sister; she’s like middle school age in this ughhhh suna as a big brother makes me want to combust), suna pining for you like a big stupid idiot

wc: 1.5k

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

Suna Rintaro knows two things for certain: firstly, he’s absolutely in love with you, and secondly, he hasn’t a clue what to do about it. It was easier for him to come to terms with the latter, seeing as he’d spent most of his teenage years rolling his eyes at mushy displays of affection and taking the piss out of his friends who seemed to have traded all necessary brain function in exchange for falling in love. 

To him, falling in love this early on in life was as worthless and cheap as the chocolate he watched be gifted every Valentines Day; eventually, they’ll eat what they like and throw what they don’t in the trash, he’s seen it done countless times before, and he’d be stupid to let something like that happen to him. 

Still, here he is, knee-deep and sinking even deeper as the moments go by, he thinks falling in love might be like being pushed into quicksand. As odd as it is for him to admit it to himself, he doesn’t mind it at all.

There’s a certain giddiness that can’t be awarded any time other than when you talk to him. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking about your conversations, wondering if he said something wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have prolonged the exchange, and smiling fondly when he remembers he managed to make you laugh three times (a new record for him).

“What’s with that face?” Atsumu had interrupted Suna during one of the breaks at volleyball practice, his idiotic grin on full display in Rintaro’s face. Had he really been smiling just from thinking about you?

Suna had mumbled something that sounded like an awkward mixture of shut up and fuck off, quick to storm away in hopes that Atsumu didn’t catch the violent reddening of his cheeks. This is not good, he thinks, love can’t really be this hard to ignore, can it?

He’s put up a hard battle against this exact scenario, and he’s afraid you might have unknowingly thrown a wrench right into his fine tuned machine of a brain. If this really was a battle, he’s fine raising a white flag in order to get to make you laugh more often, for the slight possibility of getting to know if your lips really feel as soft as they appear, and the hope that one day he might forget all about what it was like not to be entirely in love with you. 

This is the nail in the coffin, his final surrender. Being in love really must make people stupid, because he’s nervously tugging his collar as he knocks on his younger sister's door. She chirps a surprised “Come in!” and Rintaro struggles to actually reach for the door, consumed with the reality of the fact that this really is where he’s ended up in his life. Great.

His sister gives him an incredulous look when she realizes it had been him who knocked, eyeing him suspiciously, “What do you want?” She mumbles in confusion, setting her pencil down. Suna parts his lips, mouth running dry, then sighs loudly, shaking his head. 

“What is it?” She inquires, sudden agitation laced in her tone. Rintaro looks at the ground, too embarrassed to see the inevitable shift in her expression when he asks, “What’s the right way to ask out a girl?” 

A silence follows that isn’t long enough in Suna’s opinion, quickly cut off by a loud bark of laughter, “No way! You’re asking me for advice?” 

Here’s another thing Suna Rintaro knew for certain, there’s no word that describes the extent in which his younger sister is the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Suna mutters self-consciously. This probably was a bad idea in theory, but as much as it pains him to admit it, this is his last resort. He knows next to nothing about how to be normal about talking to you, let alone confess; something is better than nothing in this situation, and he swears to himself that he will make sure he never has to ask his sister for advice like this again. 

Love, when it comes to you, has to be a one and done thing. He’s sincerely praying to whoever is watching over him that he never has to feel the terror of confessing to anyone else again. It just has to be you. 

That’s why he’s here, standing about as stiff as a marble statue as he pushes a shaky finger to your doorbell, drawing his hand back swiftly as if it burned him. In a spurt of unexplainable confidence, Suna had asked if you wanted to hang out on Saturday, conveniently leaving out the part where he desperately wished for it to be more than just a hang out.

Earlier that morning, he’d been so close to chickening out that his sister, of all people, angrily dragged him to the nearest grocery store with a scowl.

 “Don’t get her roses, it’s way too soon for that kind of flower!” She snapped, swatting Suna’s hand away from the bouquet.

“Daisies? Seriously? Are you a serious?”

It would be an utter lie if Suna did not admit that he had no idea what his sister was talking about. If love really is this complex, maybe he’s not the right person for it. Still, he finds himself lingering on the face you make when you laugh, the way you’re the first person that he never got sick of texting into the early hours of the morning, and how you’re the only person that could ever make him reconsider that puppy love and crushes might mean something more than he’d given them credit for.

After all, the way he felt for you is what people call love, isn’t it?

Suna grips the assorted bouquet of colorful flowers that his sister had deemed good enough, listening to the sound of your front door clicking open. He’s doomed, this is a bad idea, and yet it’s the only thing he wants to do. 

How’d you get to be so beautiful? Suna wonders that a lot, in fact, it makes him angry that you’d just waltzed into his life like you did. It’s absolutely unfair, he was a dead man before he could even put up a fight. Falling in love with you was unavoidable from the beginning, but he seems to be just okay with that. 

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, nonplussed by the bouquet in his hands, “Flowers for me?” You snicker, your laughter is probably the worst thing that could possibly happen right now, it makes everything ten times harder to do.

“Yeah, um-” Rintaro sputters, nervously darting his eyes around for the answer to your question. He knew the answer. You knew the answer.

Hastily, he holds it out for you to take, which you do without hesitation, “What’s the occasion?” 

Suna Rintaro knows two more things for certain: firstly, he’ll die if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, and secondly, you’re smart enough to have already surmised exactly what the occasion is. 

Everything his sister told him, advisories of “That’s too creepy!” and “Don’t be so blunt about it!” all fly to the back of his mind in exchange for the only things he can really manage to say. 

“Well,” Suna starts, cringing at the way his voice cracks, he knows this is about to be the world’s worst confession. 

“I, um, I got these for you because I think you’re really pretty,” you watch in bewilderment as his cheeks gradually saturate into a bright red, “but, that’s not just it!” Suna blurts, “You’re also really smart, and funny, and you’re probably the only person I could sit and talk to for hours without getting annoyed by-” Now, Suna is blatantly breaking the third piece of advice his sister had given him, don’t ramble.

“And, I really look forward to talking to you, even if it’s about boring stuff, I still want to hear you talk all day. Which, saying that out loud is really embarrassing for me, but, not because I’m embarrassed of you, I’m just embarrassed that I’m so-”

“Suna-” you interrupt, the cellophane wrap of the bouquet you held crackles as you lower it to see him better. You watch, partially in amusement, while the boy across from you struggles to comprehend everything he just said. 

Suna is done for when it comes to you, this was priorly understood, so why is it so hard to put it into words if it’s all he ever thinks about? “I like you a lot…is that okay?” He finally sighs, pale green eyes flickering up to search for a silent answer in the faltering of your expression. 

“That’s okay.” You nod, dumbfounded by the sudden declaration, each word was spoken with more confidence than anything you’ve ever heard him say before.

“Cool.” Suna nods dumbly.

“Cool.”

[godslino]

IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway. 

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges. 

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned. 

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip. 

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron. 

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind. 

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched. 

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.” 

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.” 

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?” 

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant. 

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find. 

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful. 

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.” 

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain. 

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf. 

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all. 

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun. 

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way. 

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season. 

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.” 

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones. 

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs. 

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today. 

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted. 

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later. 

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach. 

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears. 

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung. 

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat. 

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.” 

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember. 

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong. 

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides. 

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. 

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them. 

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family. 

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake. 

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. 

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep. 

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own. 

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.” 

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world. 

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.” 

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own. 

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning. 

“But I can’t.” you choked. 

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you. 

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair. 

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend. 

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night. 

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles. 

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?” 

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you. 

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.” 

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.” 

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?” 

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going. 

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking. 

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?” 

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater. 

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder. 

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin. 

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others. 

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it. 

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub. 

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear. 

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias. 

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by. 

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm. 

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this. 

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting. 

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view. 

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers. 

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance. 

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything. 

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does. 

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible. 

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused. 

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away. 

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes. 

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust. 

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile. 

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench. 

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul. 

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?” 

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!” 

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back. 

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?” 

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with. 

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate. 

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him. 

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt. 

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest. 

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.” 

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set. 

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays. 

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets. 

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat. 

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh. 

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face. 

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further. 

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine. 

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out. 

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything. 

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat.. 

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him. 

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm. 

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.  

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics. 

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot. 

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.” 

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points. 

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?” 

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home. 

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. 

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true. 

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin. 

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick. 

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours. 

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life. 

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles. 

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him. 

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home. 

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways. 

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover. 

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. 

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip. 

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand. 

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual. 

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet. 

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass. 

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon. 

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no–  I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment. 

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.” 

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair. 

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“I love you.” you say first this time. 

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony. 

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless. 

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs. 

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter. 

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?” 

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin. 

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room. 

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks. 

You nod, slowly. 

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds. 

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.” 

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock. 

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving. 

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around. 

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded. 

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked. 

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle. 

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving. 

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere. 

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored. 

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks. 

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say. 

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.” 

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals. 

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place. 

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips. 

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

[ghost-proofbaby]

fictional boyfriends (e.m.)

summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.

warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.

wc: 2.5k+

a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink

It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.

Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.” 

Until that damn game.

When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections. 

“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle. 

“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“

“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”

For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now. 

“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“

“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”

You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.

More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention. 

“Fine.” 

The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.

He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.

“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not. 

“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?” 

“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”

“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”

“Well that makes one of us.” 

Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”

He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration. 

Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t. 

You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“

“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.” 

He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.

“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you. 

He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.

Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend. 

“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“

He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.

You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?” 

You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized. 

God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.

“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.” 

He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not.  You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.

“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”  

His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.

“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.

You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight. 

And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.

You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game. 

“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.” 

If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation. 

But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat. 

Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.

When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.

He bites.

Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.

You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?

If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.

He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture. 

Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of. 

“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault. 

He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent. 

Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of. 

“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it. 

“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.” 

Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.” 

He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”

“I do not-”

He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point. 

“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.” 

You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.” 

“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”

“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.” 

His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.

“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.” 

Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.

He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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[sc0tters]

Out of It | Mat Barzal

summary: as your relationship with Tito finally hits a breaking point, what happens when Mat is there to pick up your pieces?

request: yes/no

warnings: cheating, failed relationship, drinking, allusions to sex, swearing.

word count: 3.2k

authors note: Kei said I could use the chaotic ending so I did, probably means we’re gonna have to have a part 2 (let me know if you want it). Request said something sad for Tito but happy for Mat and this is what my mind came up with. I actually enjoyed writing this one a lot so I hope you all enjoy reading it! But also don’t cheat on your partners, that’s very fucked up!

part two | part three

Things hadn’t been good for months.

When Anthony was first traded to the Canucks your boyfriend of three years always just assumed that you would join him. But you didn’t, your entire working career was spent in New York building up the your name and you weren’t ready to leave it for some city in Vancouver without the guarantee of a job waiting for you.

That seemed to be the first sign that things were changing as the boy took it as you not loving him.

Tito slammed his hands against your kitchen counter “do you ever support me in this move?” The man groaned in frustration making you taken aback by his outburst.

The accusation hurt you “of course I do.” You yelled back making his irritated tone “the fact that you think I’m gonna pack my life up at the drop of a hat makes me question how you feel about me though.” You crossed your arms sending him a glare.

This argument had gone on for the last fifteen minutes and there was still no clear sign of the end of this argument “look I can’t live in Vancouver but I can split my time between the two cities.” You offered growing tired of the way this was continuing to drag on.

But Anthony didn’t like that offer, in fact that almost felt worse than you just staying in New York “don’t bother.” He sighed pushing past you.

The hockey player moved towards the door “where are you going?” You croaked feeling your throat grow tight “I’ll spend the night with Mat.” Anthony sighed grabbing his shoes from the rack.

Your feet pulled you to the door “we don’t go to bed angry,” you reminded him “you promise.” Tears began rolling down your cheeks as you felt like you were loosing the love of your life “I’ll be back in the morning.” The boy mumbled kissing your forehead.

His lips left their print on your skin before he walked out of the apartment leaving you alone.

You two never actually spoke about that argument again, instead just choosing to ignore the fact that for the first time since you two moved in together Anthony didn’t sleep at home when he was in New York.

It felt like it was meant to be the one anomaly in your relationship or at least until February hit. Valentine’s Day you were meant to be in Vancouver with flights booked and everything but when a last minute meeting came up you had to pull out. Much to the annoyance of Anthony though.

Thinking you were doing the right thing you told him to go enjoy the dinner reservations he made. But after your long day of work when you came home the last thing you expected to see was the rumour mill that twitter made talking about how Anthony had a new girlfriend.

She was taller than you and looked like a blonde supermodel. Through frustration you grumbled something to yourself before you dialled in your boyfriends number “hey y/n!” Anthony was always good about picking up on the first or second ring “yeah I’ll be done in a sec,” he added clearly talking to someone on his side of the call.

You never liked admitting that you felt insecure in your relationship, but how could you not when you were with some hotshot hockey player? It also wasn’t helped by the fact that he lived 3 hours behind you and in a different country “don’t tell me she’s there,” you choked on the words as tears formed in your eyes.

Anthony clicked his tongue hearing the soft whimper you let out “who baby?” His nickname always had you melting into his hand but now you felt repulsed by it “that girl-“ your eyebrows knitted together as you thought the boy was playing tricks on you acting all oblivious.

The hockey player cut you off “told you that Twitter isn’t good for you.” His reminder felt condescending as you sat down feeing like you were having his lecture in person “why are they all talking about it?” Your voice was soft as you wiped your cheek with the back of your hand to clean the tears away from you.

He almost forgot he was on the phone to you as he stared at the girl who was on his couch pointing at her watch to signal that they were late “when she realised that we both had no plans tonight I said she should come with me.” Tito explained leaving you silent as he wasn’t denying that he spent the night with this bombshell of a girl “she’s just a friend though baby you got nothing to worry about.” Somehow his attempt to comfort you only made your nerves stick out more.

You tried to formulate a coherent sentence as you felt stupid for getting all upset “look I’ve got a few days off next week, why don’t I come see you?” He proposed causing that stupid love drunk smile to form on your face “I’d like that a lot.” You nodded missing your boyfriend now more than ever.

From the moment he arrived in New York you two could feel that something was different. As you invited some of his favourite old teammates over for dinner you felt relieved that you weren’t having to spend the night alone with him.

But of course that sense of peace had to be disturbed “baby why don’t you leave those for the morning?” You asked seeing Anthony’s back towards you as you entered the kitchen.

If there was one thing that usually fixed your problems it was sex. Sure that sounded stupid and like you were both teenagers, but as a couple your favourite way to end even the smallest of fights as with sex.

Which is why you thought it was the fix this problem needed “I want to wake up to a clean kitchen.” The Canadian always felt this rewarding feeling whenever he got to see an empty set of sinks in the morning.

You decided to try a little harder as you walked over to him “think I’ve got something a little more fun for you to do before that though.” You mumbled letting your hands slide up the front of his shirt.

That only seemed to piss him off “Jesus y/n let me finish the fucking-” the moment he began lashing out you stepped back keeping your lips shut until he spun around to look at you.

It didn’t take his eyes long to make their way down your body as you tied the string around your robe up clearly deciding that it wasn’t right for tonight “oh,” Anthony’s voice was soft as he realised that you were wearing his favourite lingerie.

The set was something you bought when he was on a long road trip once and you sent him pictures of each set you tried on in the store and when he picked the blue set you went to the airport to pick him up in a coat with nothing on underneath besides for that new set “forget it.” You rolled your eyes now feeling embarrassed as you turned around heading back to your bedroom where you sat on your bed for fifteen minutes waiting for him to come after you.

But he never did and you felt like an idiot.

April came around and you were now onto month four of feeling like something was wrong but you never felt confident enough to talk to Anthony about it so instead you let your relationship get to the worst it had ever been. Excuses were made each time one of you was meant to see the other and as the time between phone calls grew, the amount of fight you put up to see the other person decreased.

Tonight you were going out with some of the guys from the Islanders team. Mat invited you along as they were celebrating their place in the playoff “I know they are your friends.” You rolled your eyes at the phone call as Anthony couldn’t understand how his best friend invited you along.

It was somewhat amusing because Mat was the one who introduced you to your boyfriend “I’m going to support the boys okay?” You heard a knock at the door making you open it.

A smile formed on your face seeing older Canadian as you ushered him inside motioning to him to keep quiet as you were on the phone “yes I’ll let you know when I’m home.” It sounded like you were talking to a parent rather than your boyfriend.

Mat made himself comfortable on your couch as his spread his legs leaning into the soft fabric “I’m going to go now.” And with that you hung up. It irritated you how the first time he called you in over a month was because one of his old teammates mentioned that he was seeing you tonight “you okay kid?” Mat asked furrowing his eyebrows.

Despite the fact that there was only a two year age gap between you both when he met you, you were a freshman in college in your Maple Leafs jersey as you willingly spent your morning in a cafe arguing with the Islander player about how the Canadian team was better. Mat would never admit this to you or Anthony but he thought you were hot, that’s why he invited you to the game when the Maple Leafs came to visit. Why he scored a goal and pointed right up to the box where you sat, but even more so why he scored three goals. But no matter how hard Mat tried to impress you, it was no match against Anthony’s soft smile that he sent you making you weak in the knees.

You sighed sitting next to him “Tito is mad at me again.” You mumbled fiddling with the bracelet that the older boy gave you for your twenty first, the piece of jewellery that you now never take off.

Mat slipped his hand onto your knee giving it a squeeze “don’t worry about him.” The Canadian wanted to act like his crush on you had diminished over the years but when you called him in tears because you realised that you were drowning your sorrows in too much Chinese food for one person to ear during Anthony’s first night in Vancouver. The speed Mat drove across the city going through each red light told him otherwise.

Having him around always comforted you “think I just need to let loose tonight.” You mumbled running your hand through your hair pushing it back unintentionally revealing your collar bones that were highlighted by the low cut of your dress “finally give you a reason to keep up with me.” Mat always drank faster than you as you wrote it down to his lack of a college career where he never got the chance to grow out of it.

You rolled your eyes letting out a laugh “think you’ll be keeping up with me tonight.” You mumbled looking down at your phone to see the time “we’re late,” you groaned quickly getting up. Mat followed your actions with a smile “only means we have to make up for the lost time.” He pointed out making you laugh.

Oh how pretty that sound was.

The bar was packed full of players and their partners with you being the only plus one without a romantic connection to the team. You had practically drunk your way through the bar as the wags believed that you were making up for lost time after you turned down each of their offers to join them on girls night since Anthony left. It was stupid sure, but you always felt out of place when you were with them, so you thought that you’d feel worse without your boyfriend there.

But instead you surprisingly felt like you fitted in as Mat’s arm snaked around your waist “you want another one?” He asked motioning to your empty glass.

The girls had smirks on their faces as they watched your cheeks turn pink feeling his breath on your neck “I’ll come!” You blurted out making them bite the inside of their cheeks to hold in the giggles.

Whilst everyone thought you would marry Anthony, it made all of the girls happy to see you smile and until you or Mat did anything that crossed a line. They didn’t see the point in telling Anthony that his friend was taking care of his girlfriend.

Because to them everything that Mat and you did was friendly, the touches, the smiles, the looks. But what none of them knew was how each of your heart rates increased at the mere thought of the other. Mat locked his hand into yours as he pulled you through the crowd “two refills please.” He asked the bartender with his signature smile.

When the hockey player turned to you he realised you had been staring “what are you thinking about kid?” Mat’s voice was soft as he sat you in the barstool in front of him “how bad would it be if we left?” You cocked your head staring at his Hazel orbs that seemed to be locked into your soul.

Your question made Mat laugh “you had enough?” He frowned wanting to have more of your company for longer. You were quick to shake your head “no of course not,” your cheeks turned pink as you panicked “I just want ice cream and some vodka right now.” The pairing was weird but it seemed to be the only thing going through your mind “well it’s a good thing that I have both of those in my apartment then isn’t it?” His comment made your eyes light up with excitement.

Without thinking he held his hand out to you “they’re all so drunk I don’t think they’ll notice us leave.” Mat mumbled causing you to nod as he pulled you out of the bar somehow without anyone noticing.

During the drive back to his you remained fairly quiet as the Uber driver continued to talk to Mat about what it was like being a hockey player “I’m telling you I think he loves you.” You got the words out between your fit of giggles.

Mat groaned shaking his head “was nervous to have such a pretty girl in his car.” The boy shot back shoving his spoon back into the Häagen-Dazs ice cream container as he ignored the workout he was going to have to do tomorrow.

His compliment made your stomach do flips “think he’d be more affected by you,” you shook your head taking a sip of the expensive vodka that he had given you to drink “if he was gay-“ before you could swallow you let out a laugh resulting in a cough from you.

The hockey player grew alarmed watching your face turn red “you okay?” All you could do was nod until your throat calmed down “you care about me.” You teased rubbing your elbow with his as you smiled.

As much as Mat tried to ignore how he felt about you it was no longer working “of course I do.” The Canadian wanted to scoff that you would ever even consider to think that he didn’t.

But what he didn’t expect as your eyes locked with his was that you would lean forward to kiss him. At first Mat melted into the kiss as this was something he always wanted but as you moved to his lap he was reminded of the fact that you weren’t his “what about Tito?” Mat gasped forcing himself to feel guilty about the situation. Your lips formed a frown “he doesn’t love me anymore Mat,” you shook your head as tears formed in your eyes “and I don’t love him.” It was the first time you had ever actually said that out loud.

Yet it was all true, the fire that was once burning underneath your relationship turned to an occasional spark that had gone into hiding for the last few months. Mat stared at your soft facial expression “why don’t you leave him?” He asked furrowing his brows “don’t want to be alone.” Your confession made you seem week.

Truthfully though you had grown used to Anthony’s company and you were scared to see if you could survive without a boyfriend in your life “you aren’t alone.” Mat sighed tracing his finger along your jaw letting his thumb settle on your lip.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but if he showed you that he was here for you then maybe you’d leave Anthony for good “prove it to me then baby.” You pushed your lips back into his as the boy walked the two of you to his room letting your body hit his mattress.

Mat was finally going to have his way with you.

The next morning.

You let out a groan as you heard a loud knock at the door “baby go get it,” you grumbled wanting to go back to sleep “fine.” Hearing Mats voice from beside you had the events of last night quickly falling back into your head.

Somehow though the boy seemed calmer about it all as he sent you a smile “could get used to this.” You were wearing one of his old Islanders shirts, the first time you were wearing a piece of merch from the team that wasn’t from Anthony.

It reminded you of the fact that you still had a boyfriend but here you were in his best friends bed covered in hickies whilst he was covered in scratches “you should answer the door.” You pushed your hair out of your face as you began to feel sick. You weren’t upset about last night, you loved the reminder of feeling what it was like to be loved.

To put it simply you felt bad that you had done it to a guy like Anthony, your mother raised you better than that “I’ll send them on their way and then we can talk about last night.” Mat wasn’t an idiot, he could see that you weren’t thinking about Anthony by the way you stared at the promise ring on your finger that he gave you when he came back in February.

It only took you two months to go ahead and fuck that one up “okay,” you nodded biting the inside of your cheek as you struggled to comprehend how you would talk to Anthony after this.

Your stomach did flips as you stared at yourself in Mats bedroom mirror. In that moment you felt like a horrible person and there was honestly no denying that you were one. Your precious Anthony would never cross a line like the one that you had and you only hoped that you had enough time to fix it before everything was thrown back in your face “what took you so long dude?”

That voice sent a chill down your spine as your eyes went wide with any desire of wanting extra sleep quickly being thrown out of the window.

What the fuck was Anthony doing at Mat’s door?

[cheoliehansolie]

Flowers (Valentine's Day Special)

Summary: It's your first Valentine's Day with your boyfriend Wonwoo and he wants to make sure it's the best Valentine's Day ever.

an: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing something like this so please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it! Sorry in advance if there are any mistakes, I may have missed some.

wc: ~2.6 k

Y/N’s point of view - T minus 3 days 'till Valentine’s Day

You just got home from a long day of classes. As you tug your shoes off in the entryway of the apartment you share with your boyfriend Wonwoo, all you can think about is changing out of your stuffy clothes into one of your boyfriend’s hoodies and laying on the couch until he gets home. As you make your way further into the apartment, throwing your bag onto the floor you let out a huff of frustration when you hear your phone ring. I guess my plans of relaxing are gonna have to wait, you think to yourself as you pull your phone out of your pocket.

“Hey sis.” you say once the video call connects.

“Hey! What’s up with the glum face? Rough day?” your older sister asks, her concerned face staring back at you through your screen.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask as you flop onto the couch.

“I’m your older sister, I can tell when something’s bothering you. Now spill. Do I have to punch someone?”

“Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal. I just got home from being on campus all day and I had a really long day. The group project I’m working on for my business class is taking longer than I thought it would and no one wants to step up and get the work done so it’s been like pulling teeth getting my group members to get stuff done.” you complain. “Anyways, that’s enough about my day, why’d you call?”

Your sister visibly perks and she can’t hide her excitement. “I actually called because your sweet brother-in-law just told me what he’s planning for Valentine's Day coming up.”

“I thought normally he keeps it a surprise?”

“He does, and it still kind of is. All he told me that he’s taking me on a trip somewhere tropical and warm for the whole week of Valentine’s Day.”

“OMG, really!” you exclaim. “I can’t believe he planned something so sweet for you!”

“Hey, he can be sweet when he wants to.” your sister pouts.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. When are you leaving?”

“He said we leave tomorrow, but he hasn’t told me anything else besides packing for tropical weather.”

“Wow, that sounds so romantic.”

You’re so focused on your conversation with your sister that you don’t even hear Wonwoo open the door to your shared apartment. He’s about to announce his presence when he hears your older sister ask, “So, has Wonwoo dropped any hints about any Valentine’s Day plans yet?” in a teasing tone as she wiggles her eyebrows at you. He stops with his mouth still open as he waits and listens to see what you’ll say.

“Not yet, but it’s honestly fine if we don’t do anything big and fancy. We’re both broke college students and I doubt he has time to plan a big lavish thing with his busy class schedule while taking up extra shifts at the bookstore.”

“Yeah, I get that, but don’t you have anything you want? I get that you don’t want to be a burden, even though we all know that Wonwoo sees you as the most precious person in the world, but if he were to get you anything, what do you want him to get you?”

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself as you think while Wonwoo stands at the entryway waiting patiently to see what you have to say. “You know what would be romantic? A bouquet of flowers.”

“That’s it?” your sister asks, appalled in your simple answer. “You’re so high maintenance that I thought you would say something like a necklace or something. Plus, flowers don’t last forever and this is your first Valentine’s Day together. Don’t you want something that you can remember the day by?”

Wonwoo, still glued to his position at the entryway, mentally asks you the same question. He knows you aren’t super materialistic and rarely ever take gifts from him not wanting him to waste his money on you (even though Wonwoo sees it as anything but a waste of money), but he thought that at least while talking to your sister you would say something special like jewelry. He’d been taking extra shifts at the bookstore to be able to buy you something to remember the day by.

“Yeah, I get that it’s simple, but I’ve never gotten flowers from anyone before.” you explain. 

“I guess, but all you want is flowers? Nothing else?” your sister prods on.

“Well, I guess there’s something else.” Wonwoo’s ears perk as he makes a mental note to find the best flowers he can get you. You didn’t tell him that you’ve never gotten flowers before and if he had known earlier he definitely would’ve gotten them for you sooner.

“What is it?” your sister asks.

“We’ve both been really busy lately with work and school that we don’t really have a lot of time to see each other and spend quality time together. Going out for dinner or spending a night at home watching movies or playing games would be so much fun. I don’t even remember the last time we got to spend time together like that when we weren't exhausted.”

“That sounds really sweet, I hope Wonwoo will plan something like that for you.” 

“Me too. Sis, I have to go, I still have so much work to do and I need to get Jihoon to focus on getting our project done as much as he focuses on making his music. I’ll call you later and have fun on your mystery vacation!”

“Bye y/n. Don’t stress too much about your project. If Jihoon doesn’t do his part, give me his number and I’ll give him a stern talking to.”

“Okay mom,” you joke as you wave and hang up on your sister.

Wonwoo sees this as the best time to make his presence known as he jiggles his keys loudly in the keyhole and acts like he’s stepping through the door for the first time today. You look up from your phone and smile.

“Hey y/n.” Wonwoo greets as he takes his shoes off and makes his way over to you. “What’re you up to?” he asks as he plants a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey Wonwoo. Not much, I just got off the phone with my sister.”

“Oh really, what’d you talk about?”

“Nothing much, she just called to tell me that my brother-in-law’s taking her on a trip to the tropics for Valentine’s Day.” you explain as you get up to make your way to your shared room to finally change into something comfier. 

Wonwoo trails behind, listening to you continue to ramble about your day as he begins to mentally plan how to make this the best Valentine’s Day ever.

-----------

Wonwoo’s point of view - T minus 2 days 'till Valentine’s Day

The next day, all Wonwoo can think about is what kind of flowers to get you and what else he can do to make Valentine’s Day as special as possible. You hadn’t said anything about what kind of flowers you like when you were on call with your sister, and he couldn’t exactly ask you now because that would just give away his entire plan. He’s so engrossed in looking at pictures of bouquets on different florist websites that he doesn’t even notice when the professor ends class and everyone starts packing up their things. 

“Hey, you coming?” Soonyoung asks him as he stands in the aisle staring at Wonwoo.

“Yeah, you’re blocking the exit and I can’t get out.” Mingyu whines as he impatiently taps his foot. “What’re you even looking at?” Mingyu asks as he leans down to steal a glance at Wonwoo’s laptop screen.

“It’s nothing.” Wonwoo replies nonchalantly as he tries to close his laptop before Mingyu can see, but to no avail.

“Really? Because it looks like someone’s looking for flowers to buy for a special someone named y/n for a special day coming up.” Mingyu teases as Wonwoo’s ears turn red. This is exactly why he didn’t want his friends to see what he was up to. I guess the cat’s out of the bag now. Wonwoo thinks as he packs up his things.

“Wow, I didn’t know Wonwoo was so whipped. Look at his ears, Gyu, he’s shyyy.” Soonyoung teases as Mingyu and him burst into giggles.

“Yeah, I was looking for flowers for my girlfriend, is that a crime?” Wonwoo asks.

“No it’s not, but it’s fun to make fun of you.” Soonyoung responds as the trio makes their way out of the lecture hall to grab a bite to eat at the dining hall.

“Besides, aren’t flowers a really basic gift? Where’s the heart? Where’s the romance? Where’s the uniqueness?” Mingyu asks as they step out into the cold.

“Yeah!” Soonyoung agrees loudly. “I thought you’re obsessed with her? I thought you would get her a bracelet or something. Oh, oh, oh! Or you could get her a necklace with a W on it like Troy gave Gabriella at the beginning of High School Musical 2! That scene made my heart flutter.”

“Well, Soonyoung, I’m not trying to make your heart flutter, I’m trying to make y/n’s heart flutter. And you two can complain about flowers being the least romantic thing in the world, but I heard y/n on the phone with her sister yesterday when I got home. She asked y/n what she wants for Valentine’s Day and she said flowers because no one’s gotten her flowers before.” Wonwoo explains to his friends hoping that they’ll be satisfied with this answer and they’ll drop the subject.

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” Soonyoung coos.

“But, you’re not just getting her flowers, right? Are you planning anything else?” Mingyu asks as they finally enter the warmth of the dining hall.

“Well, I’m trying to plan what else we could do. When she was on the phone, y/n said she wanted to do something where we could really spend time together because we’ve both been so busy recently.”

“Wow, she really gave you a step by step guide of what she wants.” Soonyoung admires.

“Well, she actually gave her sister a step by step guide. Wonwoo here was just lucky and was in the right place at the right time.” Mingyu corrects.

“I guess you could say that, but I still need to plan the details. She said she wanted flowers, but nothing about what kind of flowers and she didn’t even say what she wants to do together. All she said was that she wants to spend time together, but I don’t know what we could do together.” Wonwoo complains as they make their way over to grab their food.

“I would suggest you cook her a nice dinner, but that’s off the table since we all know you can’t cook to save your life.” Soonyoung says as they make their way to an empty table.

“It’s not like you’re any better Soonyoung.” Wonwoo teases back. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out, I want to make sure it’s something she actually enjoys.”

The conversation eventually shifts, but Wonwoo can’t stop thinking about what to do on Valentine’s Day.

-----------

Y/N’s point of view - Valentine’s Day

As you make your way back to your apartment after your classes, you can’t help but feel like there’s something off with Wonwoo recently. He’s been so engrossed in his thoughts that it’s like he’s on another planet sometimes. You wonder if he even remembers today's Valentine’s Day because he hasn’t brought it up at all. You decide not to get your hopes up as you walk out of the elevator. He’s busy so you understand if he completely forgot about it. Maybe you could get him to watch a movie with you tonight just to spend some time together.

“Wonwoo, I’m home!” you say as you walk through the door. 

You’re so focused on getting your shoes off that you don’t even notice the state of your apartment until you step farther into the apartment. When you finally look up, you see it. There are tea candles all around the kitchen island, red rose petals scattered around the island, little paper hearts stringed together to make a garland around the edge of the island, and standing there next to this beautiful display is Wonwoo in a cute burgundy polo sweater and jeans. In the middle of the island sits a bouquet of pink roses.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Wonwoo says as he makes his way towards you with a smile on his face. As he reaches down to take your bag from your hands, he notices the tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/n, are you okay? Why are you crying? Do you not like it?” Wonwoo asks, concern laced in his voice.

“No, I’m fine. I love it so much, Wonwoo. It’s so pretty. No one’s ever done anything so thoughtful for me.” you explain, blinking away your tears and Wonwoo visibly relaxes.

“I’m glad you like it, but that’s not all.”

“Really? You didn’t need to do anything else, this is already so much.”

“This is barely scratching the surface. Now close your eyes, I have another gift to give you.” 

“Wow so many surprises today, I must be the luckiest girl in the world.” you say as you close your eyes.

You hear Wonwoo pull something out of his pocket and a few seconds later you feel his hands gently lifting your hair away from your neck. You feel the cold metal of a necklace against your skin and shiver causing Wonwoo to chuckle. 

“You can open your eyes now.” Wonwoo says as he fixes your hair.

You look down at your neck and you see a beautiful gold chain with a cursive W pendant. You look up at him with shock as you say “Wow, Wonwoo this is beautiful.”

“Really? I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” He says sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I love it, it’s gorgeous.” You say as you go up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss to his lips. “It’s like we’re Troy and Gabriella from High School Musical.” you joke.

“That’s funny, that’s exactly what Soonyoung said.” Wonwoo laughs. “Well this isn’t all, I still have more planned.” 

“Jeon Wonwoo!” you gasp out, “How much more are you going to spoil me today?” 

“Definitely not as much as I want to, but it’ll have to do for now. You don’t even know what I have planned, you can’t be mad yet.”

“I guess so. Enlighten me then Wonwoo, what else do you have up your sleeve?”

“I ordered take out from your favorite restaurant so we could have a night in together. We’ve both been so busy these past few weeks with school and work that I thought it would be nice to eat together and catch up on what’s been going on.”

“Wonwoo, that’s so sweet, I can’t believe you planned all of this for me.” 

As you both work to unpack all of the food Wonwoo bought, you slip into comfortable conversation asking each other questions about your day. As you sit across from each other to begin eating your meal, you can’t help but think to yourself how lucky you are to have the sweetest boyfriend ever. As Wonwoo reaches over to put some food on your plate, you say “I love you.” as you stare lovingly into his eyes.

“Yeah? I love you too, y/n.” Wonwoo replies as he takes your hand in his and brings it up to his lips to place a chaste kiss on your hand.

Yeah, you’re definitely the luckiest girl in the world.

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an: Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it! If you did be sure to like and reblog. This is my first time writing fanfic so please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it and if I should change anything for the next one 💕

[spideystevie]

💘 “it’s not much, but i got you this.” with stevie but friends to lovers vibes 🤭🤭 maybe u got stood up on a valentines date or smth

ruby your brain is sooooo…… the friends to lovers vibe here KILLS me! the way i was giving myself the butterflies writing this…it’s bad for me out here. mutual pining...idiots in love....love being in the little things.... yeah <3 [1.1k] | join the party!

Getting stood up sucked but something about it being Valentine’s Day rubbed just a little bit more salt into the wound. You’re not sure how many more sympathetic, pitying looks you can take. 

“Sweetie, if you’re not gonna order we’re gonna have to ask you to give up the table,” your waitress says, that same sad smile on her face. Her eyes are kind and you know she means well but you can’t handle any more sympathy tonight. You smile at her tightly. 

“Okay,” you relent, pushing your chair out. You pull out a few spare dollar bills you had in your purse and leave them on the table before leaving. When you’re outside and pulling your jacket around yourself to help against the wind, you’re wishing you asked to use their phone.

There’s a payphone maybe a block away you think and you start your trek to it, feeling more angry than anything else now. Stupid Bobby Skeeter, leaving you stranded like that. You scoff to yourself, kicking a pebble with the toe of your boot. 

When you get to the payphone and punch in Steve’s number, you hardly expect him to answer on the first ring.

“Steve?” he responds with your name and before he can get far, you cut him off. “I’m at the payphone off Cherry and Main.” You can hear him shuffling on the other line, hear the jingling of his keys getting snatched off the counter. “Bobby didn’t….”

“I’m on my way,” is all he says and then he hangs up. You stand with the phone to your ear listening to the dial tone for a second before setting it back on the receiver. 

Steve’s headlights flash over where you’re sitting on the curb when he pulls up not even ten minutes later. It should’ve taken him longer but you don’t dare question it. You rise to your feet as Steve gets out of his car and rounds it to give you a hug. 

You hadn’t been all that sad before if you had to be honest with yourself but feeling Steve’s arms around you, squeezing you tight breaks some kind of dam behind your eyes. The first tear slips down your cheek as you wrap your arms tighter around Steve’s neck and hide your face against his collarbone. 

He rubs a hand up your back and lets you hold on for as long as you need in the shine of his headlights. The car is still running behind you two and you can faintly hear a Bruce Springsteen song playing over his stereo. After the song ends, Steve speaks up. 

“Are you hungry?”

You pull your head back with a small, wet laugh and nod. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, taking a step back. It’s only then does Steve realize how pretty you look, done up for a date that didn’t deserve you. “Starving.”

He takes you to a small diner off Fifth Street on the edge of town and you fill yourselves on greasy cheeseburgers and salty french fries and Steve insists on the two of you getting milkshakes. He makes you laugh and you almost forget all about your failed date.

Afterwards, he takes you home. You sit in his car in front of your house for a minute. In the silence, it’s easy to feel sad and sorry for yourself again. You bite back the prick of tears at the corner of your eyes. 

“I wasn’t even sad at first,” you say, feeling like you need to explain yourself. Steve looks at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “At first, I was pissed and I spent the whole walk to the payphone cursing his entire existence. And then…I don’t know,” you scrunch your nose and wipe at your eyes. “I guess it was just a way for me to hide how much it hurt me, you know?”

Steve frowns, eyes scanning over you. He grabs your hand and squeezes it three times, like an apology he doesn’t need to give and a way of letting you know he’s there and he cares. 

“Barry’s an idiot,” he says, purposely getting his name wrong because he knows it’ll make you smile. You roll your eyes. 

“Bobby.”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “Same syllables.”

You let out a soft laugh, looking down at your hands in your lap. 

“I, um. I’ve got something for you,” he says, letting go of your hand and leaning across you to open the glovebox. He pulls out a small wrapped gift and your eyes track it, your heart slowly starting to inflate. He holds it out to you. 

“It’s not much..” you look at Steve and his heart chips away in his chest from how sad your eyes look. “But I got you this.”

You sniffle and wipe your nose with the sleeve of your jacket. You take the wrapped gift from his hands, shifting against the passenger’s seat of the car. 

“You got me a Valentine’s gift?” you ask, voice sounding small. Steve’s cheeks start to warm, turning a light shade of pink that he prays doesn’t show in the dark. His eyes meet yours and he nods, a tight lipped smile on his face. 

“‘Course. Open it,” he nods towards it and you look down at the gift in your lap. You glance back at him once, a tiny smile starting to lift your cheeks. The wrapping is an old brown paper bag but it’s wrapped nice and neat like he took his time with it. (He did.)

You pick at a corner of it and slowly peel back the paper. It doesn’t take you long to uncover his gift to you. It’s a new cassette for your walkman, the one you’d been eyeing lately. The one you’re not even sure you’ve mentioned but one time offhandedly. You think you might start crying again.

“Oh..Steve,” you utter his name so softly, like it’s something delicate and fragile. You swallow, tracing along the album cover art. He follows the movement of your hands with his eyes and then looks back up at your face, just as you’ve wiped away a new set of tears. 

“Oh god...do you..is it..” he can’t get his words out and when you look at him with a beaming smile, eyes teary, he’s truly rendered speechless. 

“It’s perfect. I love it,” I love you, you want to say but you bite your tongue. Instead, you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Stevie.”

He blinks, cheeks burning furiously now. He smiles at you and nods once. 

“Anything for you.”

You have to bite on your lip to contain your grin.

[witchlingcirce]

Opinions on the Better in Black stories? What do you think each one will be about? I’m so happy Sizzy is being included 😋 I wanna see their wedding

IMGGG better in black!! It needs to come NEOWW I am so excited. And yes I DO have opinions on the better in black stories!!

So if you don’t know these are the stories featured in better in black. The absolute uproar these comments where in other the characters where really obnoxious to me. Cassandra doesn’t OWE you writing any specific pairing 😭😭 anon this isn’t about you but everytime I see these comments I get mad.

The only thing I would have done is add characters we haven’t seen in awhile. IE, maybe swap Sophie & Gideon/ Cecily and Gabriel with some couples we’ve already seen a lot (Clace, black stairs ect). But again, I don’t really have any complaints! Quite happy with the pairings.

WHAT do I think each story will be about?? Well some of them I’m kind of not really opinionated on BUTTT I will tell you what I think for some of them!!

Wessa —> I think Wessa’s story will be them in Paris! If you look at the cover it seems like there the ones who near the Eiffel tower. What are they doing? Who knows. I don’t think it will be an adventure pursue, but I feel like maybe there gonna have a love confession on the Eiffel Tower.

Sebastian and the Seelie queen —> if I remember correctly, Cassandra said this was going to be a romance story in particular. So i definitely feel as though this will be some kind of political story. Ie: Sebastian and the Seelie queen trying to manipulate each other through pleasantries or coming to some kind of agreement. I honestly think this story will give us some kind of insight into Ash in particular.

Mark, Kieran and Cristina —> WELL, if anything- I think this book will 100% be them in the faerie cottage. Doing what? Who knows… but doing who? Well… JOKES. If anything, I could see maybe them dealing with some kind of fae problem. Or maybe Mark & Cristina visiting Kieran in the unseelie court, helping out!!<3

Jocelyn and Luke —> no one rlly gaf about this story as much as me. I think the fact it’s in the PAST is what excites me most. So there’s two possibilities for this story.

1. It’s them in the circle days, kind of crushing on each other but yk, Targaryen wannabe Valentine Morgenstern is in the way. I think seeing the teenage crush that Luke had on Jocelyn would be oober cute and sad.

2. This is the one I think is the most plausible, them raising clary <3. Them both adjusting to there newer lives while also taking care of this tiny new infant. It would be so cute!!! Also it would be really cute to see a younger clary (of any age really). Like imagine them going to Luke’s book store like Lorelai and Rory going to Luke’s diner :,)

For the other characters?? I don’t really know to be honest. I’ll let the wind take me with there stories.

ALSO SIZZY. I am sorry I’ve made you absolutely lug through this entire post anon, but the fact where getting sizzy content for the first time in 2. Billion years… don’t even talk to me!!

I have a multitude of sizzy ideas that I have actually made in an entirely different post here

ANYWAYS ANON TYSM FKR THE ASK!!

[maislovebot]

Valentine’s Day with my fav ADA members!

Characters included: Atsushi and Kunikida. I was gonna include Francis but I don’t wanna keep you guys waiting any longer</3

This will consist of sfw and nsfw hcs of what I think my favs would do with you on valentine’s day:3 there will be a separate wc and tags for each character! Reader is afab + gn in each chapter

Keep in mind that this is taking a more western take on Valentine’s Day. I know that the more realistic day for this to take place would be White Day, but I don’t know nearly enough about it to comfortably write it. Writing it this way just made it easier on me!!

Atsushi!:

Contains: no warnings for the fluff section, reader is wearing shorts, fingering (reader receiving), not proofread

• Atsushi goes crazy on Valentine’s. He doesn’t really know a lot of the things that people do because he grew up in a generally unromantic place, but he goes crazy once you tell him that it’s just a holiday where you show your appreciation for someone!

• He had heard that you buy people chocolates for Valentine’s before, but he didn’t know how much truth was in that tradition so he didn’t risk it. But my god he absolutely melted when you returned home after a long day of work with a box of chocolates just for him?? They were nice too! He could tell that they were a pretty penny. He felt bad for not getting you anything, but you insisted that you didn’t mind. It’s his first Valentine’s Day after all! You wanted to pamper him.

• Nonetheless, he ran to the store first thing in the morning the following day and bought you some chocolate, and he was very pleased to see that they were half off! He is on a budget after all..

• He most certainly tried to make up for it for the rest of the night though. He’s always had a preference for taking care of you, it makes him feel like he’s doing something right. He would like to take you out to eat somewhere, but he doesn’t have nearly enough money to take you somewhere nice, but he did take you out to a normal dinner. Nothing crazy romantic, but it was sweet. He’s learned what your favorite foods are, so he’s spent a lot of time learning where your favorites are sold for a less expensive price.

• Once you are finished, I’d like to imagine Atsushi would prefer to watch a movie, but I don’t think you’d get very far before he’d be all over you. He’d have you straddle his hips and kiss you deeply for as long as possible. He’s always liked this part of sex, after all. When you two are still fully clothed, grinding against one another.

• He’d lift his dominant hand up and sneak it through the waistband of your shorts and push your panties to the side to rub small circles on your clit, making you grind against his hand desperately.

• “A-ah, Atsu—” you whimpered out as he slowly pushed one of his fingers inside your tight cunt. He gasped at the feeling, wrapping his other hand around your waist, guiding you back and forth gently.

• Needless to say, you two had a great night ♡

Wc - 0.4k

Kunikida!:

Contains: no warnings for the fluff, reader does work at the agency, reader is wearing a summer dress (despite it being February..), you jerk him off, not proofread

• No, because Kunikida would plan the night perfectly?? He keeps note of your favorite foods, candy, movies, etc. He is prepared!

• You’re woken up to a nice breakfast, only for you to check the time and see that work started an hour or so ago. Kunikida told you that he decided to take the day off for the both of you, so he could really show his appreciation for you. He never does that, so it made your heart melt a little because it proved that he truly did care about you.

• As we all know, Kunikida is a really good cook. You could swear that what he served you tasted like it was straight out of a restaurant! Your endless compliments inevitably made the tips of Kunikida’s ears heat up, and of course he told you to stop messing around and eat your food.

• Once you were finished, you told him to get back into bed. He doesn’t have work today, so he should be lazy too! He sighed but did as you asked, today was about what you wanted after all. He’d be lying if he said the idea wasn’t alluring.

• You two sat in comfortable silence, wrapping your legs around him and holding him close. You’d nuzzle your head into his chest, allowing Kunikida to rest his head atop yours.

• Kunikida did love this, but he couldn’t keep still for long before feeling like he’s being lazy and needing to get up, so of course he’d force you out of bed.

• “I have a whole day planned, so you better get dressed and ready.”

• You rushed out of bed to get ready, he always took very little time to get ready after all! You wanted to make sure to take care of yourself, so you got dressed in one of your favorite summer dresses and put on your favorite perfume. The scent of it always drove Kunikida crazy, and you still weren’t sure why.

• You two enjoyed a fun day on the town! He had been saving up for Valentine’s Day to make sure he could buy you something nice, and it was nice to hold your hand and be dragged around town as you went inside every little corner store that interested you.

• You felt bad that you hadn’t gotten him anything, but he promised that he liked things this way. He liked taking care of you, it made him proud. You sighed, you’d have to make up for it at home that night.

• You two enjoyed a nice dinner. It wasn’t crazy expensive, but it was still rather nice. You could tell it was going to be worth more than you wanted him to pay on your own, so you demanded to at least pay for your meal! He tried to tell you that he really didn’t mind, that he actually liked things this way, but he couldn’t win against you. So, he had to turn to less fair methods.

• You were in the middle of trying to convince him to let you pay, but he interrupted you. “Ah, dear, you’ve got something on your face,”

• “What is it?” You rubbed the tip of your nose, and cheeks, trying to figure out what it was. Kunikida just shrugged, and you made your way over to the bathroom, and Kunikida used that time to pay for dinner.

• By the time you realized what he did, it was too late and he was already waiting in the doorway for you.

• “You’re so sneaky!” You held his hand, before eventually wrapping your whole arm around his.

• “What can I say?” He smiled, looking over to you. “Today is all about you.”

• You mumbled something to yourself, but ultimately chose to stay quiet. Kunikida noticed your dress was short sleeved, and as cliche as it sounds, he took off his blazer and put it on your shoulders. You giggled to yourself, rolling your eyes at how cliche it was.

• “How romantic,” you said sarcastically. He shrugged again, wrapping his arms around you. It was dark out, and you could tell he wanted to hold you close out of worry.

• You got back to your guys’ shared apartment, caught off guard when he kissed you, placing his hands on your shoulders to push you against the door. He pushed his knee between your thighs, grinding against your cunt. You let out a small noise of friction, making Kunikida smile against your lips.

• You lead him to your bedroom, undoing his button up and pulling his pants down just enough to pull his cock out.

• “You’ve done so much for me, why don’t you let me return the favor?” You said into his skin, pulling him closer to you. Kunikida shut his eyes tight, nodding. He wanted to take care of you, but you rendered him speechless when you spread his precum across his tip and down his cock.

Wc - 0.8k

[mylovenox]

hey! how are u?? sorry if i'm bothering but could u do headcanons of Vance Hopper x Male reader who is like very sweet, kind but also very insecure and sensitive? love your writing!!

have a good day/night<3

Yes sir I gotchu :3

I’m honestly sooo in love with Vance Hopper dude it’s not even funny- Also like- IM SO SORRY FOR IT TAKING SO DAMN LIKE FOR YOU TO GET THIS-😭 I’ve been struggling a lot so I haven’t had the energy to write but please request as my as you want because it will ALWAYS. Get done :3

TW kissing, fighting, cussing- I’m dumb ash so tell me if there’s more

Vance Hopper x male reader headcanons <3

⋆Vance adores how sweet you are, he loves that you’re still sweet and kind even when he’s upset about something. (When’s he not?🥰)

⋆If anyone and I mean anyone. Says anything that even the slightest bit upset you or makes you feel bad about yourself we all already know that persons gonna have a trip to the hospital.

⋆because your his boyfriend? He’s not gonna let anyone make his partner feel bad in any sense.

⋆if he’s ever done/said smth that made you get all sensitive he’d feel really bad. Tho Vance is rude and violent in the movie he still would put his whole life into making sure he never did something to get you in a state like that.

⋆he loves you a lot! You’re the best boyfriend he could ask for!

⋆you guys listen to music all the time together whether it’s blondie, the runaways, kizz, weezer, Joan Jett, The Cramps.

⋆i think his fav song is Cherry Bomb by the runaways. Because who could blame him? It’s an amazing ass song!

⋆Vance definitely likes caramel candy- just had to say that-

⋆again Vance loves how sweet you are. A lot of the time he’ll go to you when upset just to hear your soft voice tell him that everything is okay

⋆he loves seeing your sweet adorable smile.

⋆he loves seeing how sweet and kind you are to others

⋆and ya a lot of people do think your relationship is “weird” because Vance is loud, aggressive and rude and your quiet, soft and sweet

⋆opposites attract 🤷🏻 I don’t make the rules.

⋆if he ever says something that makes you feel insecure he’d feel horrible. He’d be all over you, kiss you everywhere especially where he made you feel insecure and if it’s nothing with your body then he’d kiss your head as a way to “kiss away the thought”

⋆you guys definitely go on walks in the forest.

⋆he buys those bags of gummy’s that have gummy rings in them and he’d take all the gummy rings and purpose to you with them all and put every single one on your fingers.

“My beloved Y/N..will you make me the happiest guy alive and be my husband forever?”

⋆he’d say teasingly and kiss your check/lips after

⋆Vance obviously LOVES dogs. Tiny dogs- big dogs- he loves them!

⋆I can’t really see him as a cat person but at the same time I do….maybe it’s just if the cat is resting on his lap while he does whatever.

⋆one time you and Vance went to the grab ‘n’ go and were getting slushies and someone had randomly pointed at you and laughed an oh boy. They knew what they had coming. Vance set his slushie down and kissed your nose and told you to look away or don’t get close and then went up to the boy and proceeded to beat the ever loving shit out of him and you had to drag Vance out (leaving your slushies behind😔🤙🏻) and run off to hide because the cashier called the cops.

⋆for Valentine’s Day he got you a teddy bear and took you to grab ‘n’ go to get a bunch of snacks you wanted and then you guys would go home and watch movies all night.

⋆for Valentine’s Day one of the things you got him was matching pj pants which he loved-!!

⋆I see you guys baking to together even if he smashes and egg on your head just for the fun of it🥰🤙🏻 but if that upset you in anyway and made you sad he’d apologize and help you clean it out of your hair before giving you a gentle kiss on the hand

⋆gives you lots of piggy back rides and I mean a lot- he also does the thing where he pretends drop you but doesn’t actually, but he’ll stop if you don’t like that

⋆just cuz he loves you sm :)

⋆he sneaks through your window a lot and stays that night, your caregiver wasn’t to happy at first but saw how happy you were and you guys were also so cute sleeping together. They definitely took photos and there’s some around the house in frames.

⋆whenever he doesn’t come over you guys call alllll night!

OMGG!! This was so cute to make:) lmk if I should do more because I so will 🤗

[frenchoravocadotoast]

Love your writing and your blog!! 💞

It’s a little bit ways out 😆 but how do you think modern!era Basim would celebrate Valentine’s with his s/o?

Thank you so much queen!! <3

Modern!Basim Ibn Ishaq - Valentine's Day headcanons

Basim Ibn Ishaq x GN!Reader

Word count: 615

He’s a romantic at heart, so he loves having a good reason to shower you with affection (not that he needs a reason to begin with).

Valentine’s Day with Basim is kind of like any other day, since he’s always trying to woo you. The only difference is that this time he has an excuse to buy you more things than usual.

He’s the type of person who tries to look cool and scoffs when he sees Valentine’s Day merch in every shop, but gives in and buys lots of stuff anyway.

Basim, with 5 bouquets of flowers: “I’m a victim of consumerism.”

I hope you like sweets because he’s going to buy you lots of those. You could go into hibernation and live off of candy if you pleased.

“That box of chocolates you got me was really good.”

“Would you like more?”

“I’m good–”

“Here’s 10 more.”

Truth be told, he enjoys spending time together more than exchanging gifts. Breakfast in bed, a picnic with homemade food and stargazing are some of his personal favorites (you’ll have him wrapped around your finger if you do all three on the same day) (he’ll be all yours for the night).

Anyways–

Yes, he gets changed for the sake of your date (thank God). He ditches those cargo pants and wolf shirt in favor of a more formal attire.

He also cancels all plans for the day. Valentine’s Day is all about you two, and being so sickeningly sweet to each other that Shaun gags at the sight of you. Basim presses kisses on your nape whenever he can, and the Brit can’t help but retch like a cat trying to hairball.

“Step back I think I’m gonna vomit–”

Basim is kind of quiet, so you fill the silence. You’re at a picnic, ranting about one of your interests again when you hear the shutter of a camera, and see Basim pointing his phone at you. He’s snapping pictures of you when you’re not looking and adding them to his folder.

“Apologies, songbird. What were you saying?”

(it’s all pictures of you sleeping, working, or dancing. You try to get him to erase the more embarrassing photos, but he says they hold a special place in his heart)

Speaking of photos, he keeps his favorite in his wallet. It’s a Polaroid photo of you snuggled up on the couch as you read. He shows it off to anyone who is willing –or unwilling– to listen.

For the love of God, don’t take him to an art gallery. He’s an art critic with incredibly high standards and will not hold back.

“Is this what people call art these days?”

“It’s just a banana taped to a wall.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Sir, please stop ripping the artwork.”

Gives you lots of pet names throughout the day. He usually calls you “my dear”, but when February 14th rolls around, he goes all out. You’re his dear, but also his beloved, his sweetheart, his soul.

He’s always touching you – a hand on your lower back, your fingers laced together, his knuckles caressing your face... He’s like a leech for the next 24 hours.

You spend the evening baking some muffins and watching a movie. You’re sprawled out on the couch, limbs tangled together; and eventually, you become more invested in his touch than whatever bank the characters in the film are trying to rob. Things grow steamy as you kiss in the privacy of your own apartment, with no Abstergo agents barging through your door, and it’s difficult to hold yourself back when you feel his smirk against your lips.

You decide how to end the date. He won’t complain either way👀

[ghulehthezombiequeen]

little sunshine. - i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)

cardinal copia x sister of sin! reader part 6.

masterlist. / little sunshine masterlist.

taglist: @gothicwonderlust, @jaymechaos, @siouxbauhaus, @millerthats

a/n: dude... idk why this took me so long to write but i really really hope you enjoy it! this is the longest chapter i've ever written (i think) as well! also we're not gonna talk about the theme being winter when valentine's day is literally next week,,,,,, i swear i started this in january ok

warnings/things to note: female reader, pet names, autistic Copia (perhaps), established relationship, this is basically the 'prom' episode of the series ykwim

enjoy <3

word count: 3,012 words.

The weeks preparing had flown by, the decorations slowly but surely popping up around the halls of the Ministry. You were walking to pick up your dress from the dry cleaner’s. It wasn’t new (you’d found it hanging in your closet left by the previous Sister who’d moved away), but it fit you perfectly, as if the previous owner had left it for you on purpose. The dress itself was drop-dead gorgeous— a wine red with some black lace trim on the Halter-strap bodice, and the Grucifix logo embroidered on the left side of the hip, the skirt flowing downwards in a trumpet style. 

As you carried it to your room, your friend Sister Lucie was walking along with you, chatting about some sort of ghoul drama. 

“Allegedly he tried to bury them in the garden, but one of them escaped the hole and lit half of the plants on fire!” She tittered, holding her royal blue dress delicately. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as well. “That seems so silly. Do you know whose ghoul that was?” “Oh, uh… I think it was your boyfriend’s.” 

That made you stop in your tracks, your heart dropping to your stomach. “Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”  Lucie stopped as well. “Well, yeah… you and that Cardinal dude, the one with the rats? You guys fucked, didn’t you?” 

You coughed, your face heating up. “Just because I spent the night in his room doesn’t mean we fucked!”  Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh… sorry. But you guys are an item though, right? Sister Audrey caught y’all making out in the kitchen a few weeks ago.” 

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “It’s fine. And yes, we did. But we’re not… official yet, I don’t think. I mean, I’d like to be, but he’s, y’know, pretty shy about all this, so..”  She nodded in understanding. “I get it. But really?? Copia, of all the Cardinals?? I don’t mean to be rude, but girl— you can do better than him!”  You shook your head and smiled. “I know, but I really like him!” 

Finally, you reach your room, where Sister Leah was already starting to get ready, her hair in silk curlers which she’d left in overnight. “Who’s your date, hm?” You teased as you hung up your dress, sitting on your side at the shared vanity space.  

“I’m going by myself, you know me. I like being single, thank you very much.” Leah replied, rolling her eyes as she slid into her dress— a black-and-gold fitted dress, with off the shoulder sleeves. 

You checked her out and smiled. “You’re gorgeous, girlie! What are you going to do with your hair though?”  She took out her curlers and lightly combed her raven-colored hair, matching perfectly with her tan skin. “No idea. Maybe just this or have Melissa braid it for me when I’m there so it won’t get in the way when I dance. Oh, I forgot to ask! You’re coming down with us, right?” 

“No, no this time.” You shook your head and smiled. “I’m going with Copia!” 

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Seriously?! You were for real about that?! Is he, like, holding you at gunpoint or something?! Did his rats bite you and you’re contracting rabies?!”  You laughed. “No! I just… I like him a lot. He’s actually really sweet and considerate. He’s very old-fashioned, you know? Not because he’s old, but— you know what I mean, right?” 

She made a face, sitting next to you as she started to apply her makeup. “Whatever you say.” 

Around 7pm, you were ready to go. Leah and a few of your friends were making TikTok’s about their outfits and hairstyles. You wore dark red-to-black eyeshadow, fiercely sharp cat-eye black eyeliner, and of course, deep red lipstick to match your dress. You’d also put your hair half up half down, lightly curled and adorned with golden rose charms. Your friends were all gorgeous, but your beauty was unmatched.

“Ugh, all my friends are hot!!” Sister Calista whined as she looked at the photos on her phone.

You and Copia had been texting back and forth as well, sending snippets of each other’s outfits. The one that made you audibly snort was when he tried taking a mirror selfie, but he was holding Biscotti in one hand and on the verge of dropping him as Biscotti seemed more interested in chewing the phone case than posing for the photo. 

You made it your lock screen because it was just so adorable. 

Five or so minutes later, you heard a knock on the door, causing everyone’s heads to turn. You stood up in your black platform Mary Janes, making you maybe two or three inches taller than usual, and opened the door to see a nervous Copia standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses. His suit was similar to his Cardinal’s robes, probably a standard uniform for formal events, you figured. Only this time he was wearing a tie with the Grucifix logo printed on it as a design. 

Upon seeing your beauty, of course his face would immediately flush almost as red as your dress. “Eh…. You look… Wow. I-I mean—! Ugh, why is this so difficult…” he mumbled, turning his head and holding out the bouquet for you. “These- these are- they’re for you. You like roses, yes? Please say yes…” 

You were so touched by the romantic gesture, taking them delicately and cooing. “You’re so sweet, thank you! Give me one minute, I’ll put these by my bed.” 

“Oh, okay. Good. Yeah, go— go do that. Mhm.” He nodded awkwardly, giving you a lopsided smile as you closed the door briefly, showing off the flowers to your girlfriends, who also collectively ‘aww’ed. 

“I’ll see you guys there!” You called as you opened the door again, stepping out and holding your black clutch bag. “Aww, you got all dressed up for me.” You purred, smirking mischievously as he stood staring at you like a dumb fool. 

“Eh? Oh! Y-Yes, hello!” He cleared his throat and fixed his tie before offering his arm out. “I-I can take your bag? Or you can keep it, that’s- that’s fine too.” 

You handed your clutch to him with a small titter, lacing your arm into his as well. “I-I’m so glad we can do this… you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amore mio…” he mumbled timidly. 

“And you are the most handsome, sweetheart.” You smiled and he flushed even redder, this man was pathetic. But you loved him either way.

The formal was being held in the main chapel of the Ministry, all the pews cleared off to the sides and replaced with round tables and chairs. There was an opening in the middle, presumably the dance floor. To the left, a photobooth where a group of Siblings were bombarding the poor photographer. To the right was the dessert and beverage bar, ranging in many different cuisines to fit everyone’s dieting habits. Everything was decorated with icicles and snowflakes, little ice skates placed intricately around the room and miniature light-up snow globes as centerpieces. Copia let out a low whistle as he checked out the area. “Wow… very fancy-shmancy, ain’t it?” 

You nodded with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, they really went all out this year. Wonder why?” 

He shrugged. “Did you, um… want to take a photo when it’s not busy? O-Or we don’t have to! I… I don’t know. I just wanted a nice photo of you for my wallet. N-Not in the stalker way, though! Like, eh… W-We’re together now, right? S-So– I-I mean!–”  

He buried his face in his hands again, and you pried them away gently with a soft smile playing at your lips. “You’re so silly. Never change, Copia. Never change.” 

He gulped and nodded, unable to look you in the eye as his cheeks continued to burn red. “You’re too good to me. I-I don’t deserve you… I’m so pathetic.” 

“Hey, hey.” You took the sides of his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Don’t talk like that. You are just as deserving of love as anyone else in this room, okay? Now, we’re here to have fun and celebrate the new year, yeah?” 

He nodded, an apologetic smile on his face, leaning to yours and lightly pecking your nose. “Thank you, amore.”

You hummed in contentment, releasing his face but not before you returned the gesture, your lipstick transferring onto his nose but neither of you noticed. As you sat at your assigned table together, chatting about some of your interests (he was heavily invested in some retro game called ‘Driving Miss Daisy,’ which you’d never heard of before), a ghoul approached you both and got you two as it was your turn for the photo booth. 

“Ahm.. good. Good-good, let’s go, yes?” he smiled crookedly, offering his arm yet again.

You walked arm in arm and stood in front of a periwinkle backdrop decorated with sparkly blue and white streamers, along with snowflake cutouts and a few blue and silver balloons. The ghoul told you both that you could take up to four photos, and pointed to the table nearby where there were cutout props and cheap boas in different colors. You took a white one and wrapped it around Copia’s neck, drawing him in closer until your bodies were flushed together. You smiled and looked at the camera, where the ghoul was ready to take the first photo. Copia on the other hand was mumbling a multitude of unintelligible words in Itanglese as the ghoul snapped the photo, the flash stinging your eyes a bit. “Aw, c’mon, baby! Smile!” you giggled and tossed the boa back to the table, now switching your pose to the classic prom pose, only your arms were around his waist, his back pressed against your chest as you hugged him closer. 

“Eh… Amore, this– this is the wrong way,” he mumbled. “I’m supposed to be holding the girl, n-not– um..” 

“But you’re the babygirl in this relationship,” you teased as you propped your chin on his shoulder, your cheeks grazing each other’s. He squeaked and whimpered a weak reply, his voice unable to be comprehensible. 

The ghoul took another photo, cooing softly at the sight of you two being so affectionate. 

You took two more photos, one of him with your lips hovering over your cheek and you copying him in the other. However, you actually kissed his cheek, and this time you did notice that your dark lipstick had left an imprint on his pale complexion. You chuckled but didn’t say anything, taking his hand and waiting for the ghoul to put the photos in a collage and print out two copies. 

Copia kept glancing around nervously, as if he was ashamed to be seen with you in fear of others thinking you took him to this event out of pity. 

You lightly squeezed his hand, causing his head to snap back at you. He gulped as he saw your warning expression, causing him to nod and take a deep breath.

The ghoul chirped to get both of your attention, holding out the photo strips for you to take. You thanked the ghoul and gave him a few appreciative scritches to his chin, causing him to trill and clap his hands in joy. 

You handed him his copy as he led you back to the table, noticing a few Siblings giving him playful smiles as he still hadn’t noticed the kiss mark you left on him. However, he turned to you as you both sat down, looking at you timidly. “Do I… have something on my face?” 

“Oh, only a little gift I left you from earlier,” you hummed and opened your clutch, handing him your compact mirror so he could see. His eyes widened as he saw the outline of your lips on his left cheek. 

“S-Sorella! Amore mio, perché non me l'hai detto prima? I-I-I look like un idiota!” he sputtered out quickly, taking his glove off and rapidly swiping at it to get it off. His face was almost as scarlet as your dress from how embarrassed he was. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking out a makeup remover wipe and helping him. 

“Ugh, you torture an old man,” he groaned. 

“Oh, honey, it’s not that bad.” 

“It is! Now I look even more pathetic…” 

You were about to say something sarcastic in return, but more Siblings and their dates had arrived at your table and kept grabbing your attention. However you kept your hand securely fitted with Copia’s under the table, trying your best to include him in the conversation but it seemed like the Siblings were too scared to confront him due to his rank. 

As more people filed in, Copia’s hand gripped your own hand tighter. He was anxious, he had never been good with big crowds of people that he knew. Sure, he could sing nonstop for two hours for thousands of people, but these were people he saw on a day-to-day basis. 

You held up his hand and pressed a kiss to the back, running your thumb on the side soothingly in hopes to calm him down, which evidently worked; he took in a deep breath and smiled weakly. 

“I-I’ll go get some drinks. Did you want anything, water, soda?” he offered, he was so polite. 

You opted for water, smiling and watching him as he wandered to the beverage bar. The Siblings sitting at the table with you took this opportunity to talk to you alone. 

“Girl, why?” Brother Nathan asked. 

“What do you mean ‘why?’” 

“Because he’s– eugh!” Brother Theo made a sour face, holding onto Nathan’s hand tightly. “He’s a Cardinal, much higher ranking than you! Is he your sugar daddy or something? Because honey, we can call someone to raise your paycheck at the library–” 

“Stop, ew! He’s not doing anything like that!” You scoffed. “I actually really enjoy his company. He’s just shy, if you would just give him a chance to warm up to you, and maybe even warm up to him in return, you'll know he’s very sweet and considerate!” 

“Right… and this is the guy that has like… fifteen rats?” Sibling Everest grimaced. 

“Oh, stop it, E.” Sister Nicole huffed. “Don’t say that like we don’t have a pet snake in our room.” 

“But it’s only one of Nugget! There’s multiple rats!” They defended themself. 

“Guys, maybe we should chill. I don’t think he’d appreciate us talking smack about him behind his back like this. We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?” Theo spoke up before the argument got heated. 

Everest sighed. “Whatever.” 

Copia returned not a minute later, holding five drinks in both hands. “Eh… I got you all some, uh.. Some water. Here,” he passed them along the table, now noticing some tension in the air from the previous conversation. 

“Ah… it’s about my rats, isn’t it?” he chuckled sheepishly. “They are perfectly healthy, no- no bad germs, I can assure. And they mostly stay in my room, don’t worry.” 

You chuckled as he attempted to socialize, holding his hand gently in reassurance. The rest of the Siblings nodded and tried to be more friendly, though every time they spoke to him, they gave you all skeptical looks. 

After everyone had filled their stomachs with food and drinks, Sister Imperator made a few announcements congratulating the upper ranks on a very successful turnout of new Siblings and churchgoers, along with a few achievements from the newly summoned ghouls. She made it pretty short as Papa Nihil needed some medical attention and was wheeled out of the room on oxygen, clutching his saxophone and grumbled in a rusty voice, “I can still play, Seestor! Let me play just once!” 

Soon after, I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston started playing, courtesy of the ghoul manning the DJ booth. Siblings just sat awkwardly, unsure if they could dance on the floor or not. You took this opportunity to grab Copia’s hands and yank him out of the chair, pulling him to the dance floor. “C’mon, baby! Let’s go make this official!” 

“A-A-Amore, I cannot dance!” he whimpered shakily as you took him to the middle of the dance floor, suddenly twirling him around and making him do the same to you, causing you to giggle. “Yes, you can dance! I’ve seen you on stage before!” “Well, y-yes, but not like this!!” he gasped as you dipped him, pecking him on the lips once more, the watchful eyes of the Siblings widening and a few gasping in shock and amusement. Not a moment later, more Siblings were slowly crawling to the dance floor, singing along and dancing with their friends or partners. 

“I-I don’t know the dance to this song, amore!” Copia mumbled, letting you take the lead as you sang the lyrics to him, laughing. “There’s not supposed to be a certain dance, hon! Just feel the music!” 

As the song continued, Copia began to feel more confident, finally twirling you around a few times and dipping you in return. “Is it like this, eh… baby?” 

“Mhm,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you upright again. You both took a breather to gaze into one another’s eyes, a faint blush on both of your faces. Copia gulped before impulsively leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, holding the kiss for several seconds. You could feel his hands starting to coil around your waist as you both ignored the collective oohing from your peers, and just as he pulled away you followed him, kissing back. This wasn’t a kiss of lust, nor of desire. This felt natural, as if you two were meant to be together, in each other’s arms. It felt like true love. 

As you finally pulled away with a chuckle, you could swear you could hear Copia singing under his breath, “I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me…”

~~~

previous chapter. | ???

[stabbyfoxandrew]

good morning and happy wipwednesday <3

I'm so happy to see you're excited to write this week and I'll humbly request arsonist!neil

also happy valentines day (if that's what people say we don't really have that in my country) <3

WIP Wednesday (2/14) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 95)

As usual, Andrew is the first to board the Fire Bus. He taps his foot against the floorboard and waits for a couple minutes before the rest of his motley crew finally get their ducks in a row. Boyd is the next to show, dropping into the driver’s seat like a block of lead. He turns the engine over and starts tapping an address into the GPS monitor. Andrew doesn’t give it a second thought, until Renee climbs up. 

She glances up into the front and gasps, “Matt, are we going to St. Agnes’?”

Ah, that’s why it was familiar.

“Uh, yeah.” Boyd says, half turning in his seat.

Renee’s eyes widen and her hand comes to cover her mouth. “Oh no. Did they say how bad?”

“No, but it’s gonna be fine. Best in the business on our way,” Boyd smiles. “As soon as my wife gets in here.”

The passenger door opens and Wilds hops in as if on cue. “I’m ready, let’s roll.”

“It’ll be alright, Renee.” Andrew says softly. Renee nods, then says something under her breath that must be a prayer.

—

There is not a fire at St. Anges’. There is nothing at all going on at St. Agnes’, well except for Mass. Andrew isn’t exactly sure what that means, but when the truck rolls up an old guy wearing robes comes out.

“There isn’t any fire. I don’t know who could’ve called that in.” He says, looking confused. “Service is just about to start, if you’d like—”

At that, Andrew turns on his heel and returns to his beloved backseat. He’d rather lick the trucks’ tires— all six of them— than listen to that. He sighs and pulls off his coat to drop it on the bench beside him. False alarms are better than having to stand in an inferno for hours, Andrew thinks. If his evening is going to be free, he can spend it talking to a certain idiot instead.

It only takes a couple more minutes for the rest of the team to return. And once they’re inside, Boyd starts up the truck— again— and turns them back towards the station. Renee gives Andrew a look before shaking her head.

“What.”

“You know what. That was really rude. Father Paul is very nice.”

“He’s not my Father,” Andrew says, crossing his arms. “And I don’t see why he felt the need to invite us in. We aren’t vampires. Or are we?”

“Andrew,” Renee rolls her eyes, then laughs. 

“Perhaps St. Agnes put out the fire for us,” Andrew says, contemplatively. “Can’t saints do that kind of thing?”

“Actually… Maybe. But St. Florian is the saint of firefighters,” Renee says.

“And Agnes is what? The saint of golfers?”

“Nope. Rape survivors."

“Oh." Andrew sits there with his foot in his mouth for a second. "Well, good for her.”

[coffinsister]

julia ropes in the siblings to help her bake something for valentine's day as a throuple activity?

Hey! It's technically White Day here where we live, and I felt very motivated to write finally, so here it is, we hope you enjoy it :D !!! <3

Julia had never thought baking cookies would be this hard.

Julia was no fool, she knew baking was no simpleton’s task, baking was a capricious mistress, who rarely smiled upon the poor devils attempting to earn her good graces.

But! She had made cookies many times before, for many different people. She had been making cookies for her friends and family since she was allowed into the kitchen.

Julia looked down at the mess of ingredients, and the (1) singular spoon, on the tiny wooden counter before her.

With a serious expression on her face, she decided to grab a little knife and add it to her arsenal as well.

“Amhm” Okay, maybe she should have taken into consideration her current “Unique” Circumstances.  

“Why are you whining already? This was your idea!” Ashley screamed at her from in front of their stove. 

Except, Julia reminded herself with a headache, their stove, didn't have an oven, only the fire part, below it, there was only a hollow dark void, where she figured some cabinet, or maybe, you know, an oven, should be. 

But there wasn't, and Julia didn't even want to ask how exactly their weird thing worked, because, as she also reminded herself, this was technically a deadman’s stolen apartment, that she had been forcefully brought into, and locked up in for a few months now.

Funny how that works.

She pulled her sleeves lower down, to try to ignore the many red and fresh cuts on her arms, or the two discolored scars, from when they had tied her up with old itchy rope to their walls.

Julia looked to the side, this kitchen was so unbearably small, and they were pressed so close together, that she barely had to look behind her to catch Ashley's eyes.

“...I don’t think you need to scream so loud in this tiny kitchen, Ashley.”

Ashley gasped and bumped into her, as she turned to look at Julia in the eyes. 

“It’s my house! I will scream whenever I want!”

“Shut up, Ashley!” Andrew bonked Ashley in the head, with a large roll of paper towels. “This whole cooking thing is already giving me a headache, and you are making it worse.”

“It’s not even cooking! It’s just baking, phlew” Ashley rolled her eyes, walking closer to her brother, and out of the kitchen, finally giving Julia some space to breathe.

With her newly acquired autonomy and space.

Julia was determined to make-do with what they had, which was basically just some flour, a little sugar, and exactly two bars of butter, oh and that little bag of chocolate chips, that apparently Ashley had pressured Andrew into shoplifting for absolutely no reason. 

“Don’t think you are both going to get away with not helping me” Julia stood before both siblings, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“Andrew, your ex-girlfriend frowns like a cat,” Ashley said, looking right past Julia.

“Don't call her that.”

“Ex-girlfriend or catty?”

“Neither.”

“Ohh, how sensitive.”

Julia just sighed and shook her head. Conceding was a strength “Andrew, can you help me out with this?”

She had already looked through their cabinets, and this sort of flat soup spoon was the closest they had to a scraper, so she was making it work

“Suree” Andrew sounded a little insecure, being invited into the kitchen, which lead Julia to wonder if prior to this, Ashley had really cooked for the both of them every single time.

Andrew entered the kitchen.

He stood behind her, very very close. 

Julia wondered how having a kitchen this small was even legal at all, surely this was some sort of violation to human rights. 

She ignored the sorta warm feeling in her chest.

“I'm gonna beat up this butter” Julia said, her tone incredibly serious “You just pour the sugar, and then the flour, slowly, alright?”

“Alright” Andrew grabbed the little bowl with the sugar, while Julia began to amass the butter underneath her spoon. It had been outside quite a good while already, but their apartment was so cold all the time, it didn't really make much of a difference.

She appreciated Andrew following her instructions without questioning her too much, obviously this whole thing would be way easier if they had an actual filter, but as she said, making-do.

Julia gulped down, and plastered the butter against the bowl as hard as she could.

She supposed it would also be way easier, if she could stop leaning against Andrew behind her. 

Julia had to consciously stop herself from looking at him through the corner of her eye, and then, had to stop herself from searching for his reflection on the reflection of the bowl.

Finally, Andrew finished pouring both of the solids into her now, sort of soft, butter paste.

“Hey” Julia choked out a little, as she pressed herself closer to the counter “Do you want to help too, Ashley?”

Ashley just stared at her like she was dirtying up her kitchen, and salting her crops, which, yeah, probably, but still.

“You look like you are already getting plenty of help, Julia. Never knew you were this greedy” Ashley's tone was obviously high-pitched and mocking, but Julia decided to look past it.

Cohabiting demanded sacrifices, of many different kinds and natures, after all.

“Well, you made Andrew get the chocolate chips, right? So I figu-”

“I didn't make him do shit! Is that what he told you? He wanted them too! He just didn't want to tell you. because he's a little bitc-!”

“Ashley!” Andrew pushed himself closer to Julia, trying to get closer to Ashley. 

Julia yelped, but neither one of them stopped staring at each other to stare at her instead.   

“What!?”

Andrew tsked “Just get over here, and make yourself useful for once.”

It sounded more like a warning than anything else. 

Ashley pursed her lips, stomping closer to the kitchen, her teeth strongly gritted, she stood right in front of them, on the opposite side of the counter.

“What does our lovely little guest need?”

It took Julia a second to realize Andrew was not only referring to her, but actually talking to her, there was always this small degree of degradation, Ashley would speak about Julia, like Julia was a dog that couldn't understand her sometimes. 

“Here” Julia took the kneaded mass out of the bowl “Andrew, can you put the bowl in the sink?”

“Aja” Andrew twisted his body in a rather awkward motion, and tossed it into their metal sink. 

Julia panned out the dough as far as it would go “Help me put the chocolate chips in it. We gotta put lots, so between the three of us it should be quicker.”

“Charming” Ashley said, her eyes dead and boring, but Julia ignored it and powered through. 

She handed Ashley the little plastic bag, then Ashley handed it to Andrew, then Andrew bit it open, and handed it back to Julia, which was, for sure, a way to go about doing that.

Julia let most of the cookie chips fall into the dough, she could tell the mass was way heavier and denser than it technically should be for this, but hey, they had already gotten this far, right. 

“Wait, why don't we just pour the chocolate on top?” Andrew asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“The chocolate chips spread unevenly, if you throw them on top, a bunch of the dough will end up super empty, and the rest, super full, and when we cut them-”

“Ahm- acktually” Ashley interrupted her “While you are being a nerd, I already started.”

Ashley was making little sad faces into her side of the dough. Julia decided not to question her art. 

“Abstract. Love it” Andrew stated, completely blanked face, and began working too.

“A-Ah, actually!” Julia felt a little embarrassed about actually saying it out loud “We can cut them into shapes first, if you want.”

Julia thought she had cookie cutters back home, that would do the job a lot better, but then she remembered that she didn't really have anything anywhere anymore.

Well, she had two kidnappers here, Julia supposed.

“Ohh” Ashley leaned over the counter to get closer to Andrew, in the process, getting way too close to Julia “Lend me your-”

“You are not using my cleaver to cut cookies, Ashley.”

“You are such a tyrant!” Ashley leaned away from the counter, and Julia allowed herself to breathe once more. 

“Let’s use this one instead, okay?” Julia handed Ashley a far more-appropriate- for- the-task knife, and Ashley recklessly snatched it from her hands.

Not like it would be the first time Ashley carelessly cut her. 

“I’m making rabbits” Ashley proudly declared, before focusing her gaze on that bit of dough, and getting to cutting. 

Julia nodded with a small smile on her face, she stepped slightly away from the counter, knocking her back softly against Andrew's chest.

Julia had to crank up her neck, and look directly above her, to look Andrew in the eye. 

“Do you want to make shapes too?” She softly asked him.

“Nah, let Ashley have her fun.”

He sounded dismissive, but Julia knew that was just another facet of his way of caring.

She nodded “Okay” And they continued slowly placing the chocolate chips on top of Ashley's bunnies.

They kept going until they heard her whine “Aw, Jules make more dough” So Ashley had run out of space already. 

“I will when you guys get an oven.”

“Do you know how much an oven costs?”

“I-”

“Do any of us know how much an oven costs?”

Ashley looked down “...Fair enough.”

“Actually, how do you bake cookies without an oven?” Andrew asked.

“You can bake them in a pan. I haven't really done it before, but… it should work out” Sounding super self-confident there, Julia.

“Hey! I can do that” Ashley said, actually sounding super self-confident there “Leave it to me.”

“Are you sure, Ashley?” Julia asked.

“Duh! Who do you think does all the actual cooking in this house?”

“Doing the cooking we eat is not something to brag about.”

“Oh, c'mon, dude.” 

Ashley made her way back inside their kitchen, and Julia was promptly forced to make her way out. Now they stood in opposite spots, with Julia looking in from the outside.

Both siblings stood near each other, as comfortable as she had ever seen them, Andrew's hand was confidently resting on Ashley's lower back.

Things Julia didn't really need to question anymore. 

“I told you I can take care of this, Jules!” Ashley confidently remarked.

“Are you sure this is how that’s supposed to be, Ashley?”

“Geez, have some faith in your sister-wife for once, Andrew.”

Both Andrew and Julia cringed at that, looking away, like they could escape the crime scene they had chosen to live in. They, at least, had that in common.

And then, like 10 minutes later, Ashley turned the stove off, and presented Julia with the most utterly burnt plate of cookies Julia had never seen.

They placed it on the wooden counter.

“Sooo, who’s gonna take one for the team, and do the first bite?”

“You burned it, you eat it” Andrew told her.

Ashley made a bitter face at that.

“...You don't have to eat it,, if you don't want it” Julia chewed out her words, looking down to the plate of burnt butter cookies.

She had almost made it work.

“Eh? You want me to waste food?” Ashley said, a serious frown in her face, as she picked up the least burnt cookie from the bunch “Guess you’ve never been starved for 3 months straight!”

And she bit straight into it.

Julia’s eyes widened at the loud cough that came out of Ashley, her expression looked bitter, and disoriented, but she still swallowed it down, without wasting a bit of it. 

“A-Are you sure?”

“You are such a baby” Andrew poked his little sister’s forehead, rolling his eyes, a teasing smile on his face “They don't even taste that bad.”

Julia had always thought that his eyes were a little cold, a little perpetually disinterested in the world around him, but his countenance always seemed to soften up when Ashley was nearby.

“How do you know that?” Ashley poked her tongue out at her brother “You haven't even tasted them yet.”

Ashley grabbed one of the most generously burnt cookies, and shoved it into Andrew's hands.

Julia grabbed his elbow, holding onto the black fabric of his sweater “Really, Andrew, you don't have to, I know they came out horrible and-” Julia was already going into a small babbling rant.

She was trying not to be this way so much anymore, but she wasn't always successful at her attempts. 

Andrew made a little bitter expression at the burnt pastry, but after a second, he simply shrugged. 

“I mean, it is edible, isn't it?” Andrew nodded to his right, towards Ashley's “This bitch ate it and she hasn't died yet, soo, it’s probably safe.”

“But it tastes awful” Julia felt like she was pleading to him. Maybe, she always was. 

Andrew looked uncomfortably away from her, fixing his gaze carefully just to the side of her face “Trust me, I’ve tasted worse.”

“Rude,” Ashley said, her mouth hidden behind her palm. 

And knowing the implications of that, Julia decided to stop pleading.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Ashley's mocking Cheshire Cat Smile.

Andrew bit minutely into the cookie, he grunted a little under his breath, like the taste caught him off guard, even though, Julia had just warned him.

“Told you so” Julia let go of Andrew's sweater.

Andrew finished it, and wiped the yellowy crumbs off his white face “Eh, it wasn't that bad” He looked oddly bored while saying it. 

Julia supposed they did have far more exciting lives than she would ever really get to see.

“But that seemed really bad…”

“No, I still have had worse” He eyed Ashley.

“Okay, now you are really pushing it” Ashley lightly hit him on the shoulder, Andrew didn't even acknowledge it.

But, Julia didn't quite think that was a good thing, though. 

“Well, we both already tasted your awful baking, so now it’s your turn” Ashley pushed the plastic plate closer to her.

Julia felt her whole body get paler.

“C'mon, don't be a scaredy cat, Jules!” 

Ashley grabbed another one of the extra burnt cookies, she began making airplane noises, while moving the cookie back and forth closer to Julia’s mouth each time, somehow, this reminded Julia of a scene from her childhood, a little too much.  

“Ashley!” Andrew reprimanded her, that same old, done-with, expression on his face “Give it to me” He sounded so stern.

“Bohoo! You are no fun” Ashley pouted, her lips pursed together. 

Andrew sighed. 

Rolling his eyes, carefully on top of the plate, so as to not make an even greater mess, than the one that was already in their kitchen, he began to remove all the black and orange burnt off bits of the cookie.

Once Andrew concluded there wasn't anything left to be salvaged from the poor thing, he looked back up to Julia, his eyes trained on her freckles, never on her eyes. 

“Here” Andrew handed it over to her, and Julia opened up her hands, like she was receiving water from a well “You can eat it now.”

“Ah?” Really, that's what he was worried about? Julia couldn't help but think.

This was the guy she had fallen in love with after all.

“Well, you already went through all that hard work, didn't you?” Julia teased him a little bit, her smile lopsided. 

She thought, she was becoming a weirder and weirder person by the moment, like The Graves oddities were rubbing off on her, infecting her in ways that would leave her irreparably changed.

But yet again, Julia knew for a fact, there were far more terrible fates out there. 

“I did” Andrew nodded, the deep eyebags around his eyes, making his lighthearted smile appear far more tired than it probably was “You should eat it before it gets even colder.”

“Responsible!” Julia grinned at him, these strange moments of normalcy felt even heavier than the moments of plain weirdness, but she rejoiced in them. 

“Isn't he?” Ashley said, with her arms crossed, her eyes fixated on Andrew's face.

Julia nodded, holding the cookie up to her face, it felt like forcing herself to drink bitter medicine. 

“...Here goes nothing.” 

And she bit into it.

“Ew!”

Julia spat out the rest of the cookie.

She looked up like she had been zapped. Julia heard laughter all around her.

The Grave Siblings were loudly laughing at her.

“Are you really doubled over laughing at me, Ashley!?”

“You should look at your face!” Ashley screamed out between giggles, pointing with her index finger right at her. 

“Sh-Shut up, Ashley” Andrew was struggling between breathing and laughing, obviously attempting to hide his face behind his arms, and very obviously, strenuously, failing at it.

“You are laughing too, jackass!” Ashley screamed back, her laughter growing louder, and more high-pitched.

“I'm laughing at you, dumbass!”

“I hate you both!” Julia screamed out. 

Her face bright red, she stomped the floor with her right foot like an anxious bunny would.

She turned to run away from them, but before she could, Andrew held onto her elbow, his hand, corpse-like, cold.

“Don't leave” He could barely breathe, and Julia wasn't even sure he was trying to finish an actual sentence, all that came out of Andrew's lips was that simple statement.

“We’ll make up to you” Ashley said, cheerfully and self-confident “We will eat another one ourselves.”

“You will?”

“We will?”

“We will!”

And to her surprise, Andrew just nodded, and the Graves kept their promise, but really, Julia should know better by now, because after Ashley so-bravely downed her own cookie, she demanded Julia do the same, to ‘keep it fair.’

And well, Julia couldn't help being who she was. 

At least Andrew stole some of the decent chocolate chips, the ones that don’t burn and only melt, which was a sort of a positive point on their corner.

Somehow, before Julia even realized it, their cookie plate was empty, and they went to sleep, and she didn't feel painfully empty for once.

[the-kinnie-in-me]

Okay, well then I hope you don’t mind me returning with yet another request. I can’t help it, I just really love your writing <3

I would love some headcanons for tasm Peter falling in love again for the first time since Gwen (god, just typing that made me tear up lmao)!

Take your time, have fun with it, and have a lovely day/night :)

A/n: This has been in my ask box for so long holy shit- I'm so sorry about that. I was on an intense writer's block and I think the fact that its Valentines' Day where I'm at kinda inspired me. This is not my best work since romantic writing isn't my cup of tea 😭 But I still hope you enjoy this-

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌! 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐰𝐞𝐧:

⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎

(I’m basing this off before he met the other Peters btw)

Let's start with some pre-relationship stuff-

I don’t really see it as love at 1st sight

It might take some since yk- his ex died because he couldn’t save her

How much time it would take would depend on how persistent you are in befriending him 1st

 There's definitely some remaining guilt and self-loathing so please be patient with him

He’s still a nice and friendly person so it isn’t that hard to befriend him 

In other words- You’re gonna have to buckle up since you’re about to experience the slowest slow-burn friends-to-lovers in history (Tho the fluff post and pre-relationship make it worth it)

Now onto the relationship itself

Aunt May adores you

She saw how you make her nephew happy after what happened with Gwen and approved of you immediately

“I saw how that boy mourned Gwen. I raised him for most of his life and it was devastating for me to see him like that. Then he met you, it was like it never happened and he was as happy as he was before. And I can’t express how thankful I am to you.”

We all saw how much effort he put into his and Gwen’s relationship- He would do the 1000% same thing with you

This is a bit angsty but- It just doesn’t feel the same?? THO IT DOESN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH HOW MUCH HE LOVES YOU- When he was doing that stuff for Gwen he had a lot more self-esteem if you get what I mean?

HELP HIM GAIN HIS CONFIDENCE BACK

There have to be a lot of words of affirmation in this relationship homeboy needs it

After he gains his confidence it's mostly rainbows and sunshine

The reason why I say mostly? The topic of Spiderman.

I mean- He would tell you but he doesn’t want you to get involved 

He is very much persistent about that

He will give you every reason to not  get involved 

There’s honestly no win in this situation

If you don’t get involved you worry about him daily

*Peter enters your bedroom through your window*

“The hell happened this time?”

“They um- got me pretty bad”

You rush to grab the First Aid kit

“Yeah. I can see that.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure…Because your tone kinda says otherwise”

*Sighs* “I’m not mad. Just stressed and worried because of you.”

If you do get involved he worries about you daily

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“SAVING YOUR ASS”

Or

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be out doing Spiderman things?”

“Yeah about that- Whatever I was fighting got away and it seemed pretty pissed. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t gonna be petty and go after you”

I just realized the majority of this has been angst or about Gwen’s death in some way-

He doesn’t confront people when jealous

Poor boy just wants to leave with you beside him

He tries to hide it but it's kinda obvious

Tease him about it and see how long it takes for him to admit it I wanna test a theory

He is a total softy for you

Why can’t I find a bf like that on E-bay

A sane amount of PDA

Like hand-holding, falling asleep on him (albeit accidentally), and kissing on the cheek

He likes cuddling in private tho

Everything he does for and says to you just seems to be genuine-

A gentleman that was raised well fr

He will do so many things for you that it's concerning how fast he agrees,

“Hey Pete can you-”

“Of course”

This is entirely my opinion/ idea of him- I don’t see him calling you any pet names besides the occasional “babe” 

BUT- the amount of love and emotion traced whenever he just simply says your name makes up for it completely

Before I end this I just want to make 1 thing clear-

You are NOT a rebound 

He will do anything to prove that he never considered you a replacement for Gwen the moment he senses you feel that way

In his eyes, Gwen is his past 

In his eyes, you are his present and future

In his eyes, you are his everything.

[yourstrulyrika]

hey there !! sorry for my absence but health problems… i’ll probably need the surgery faster than expected and yeah :( hurts a lot. i’ll try to write though.

today’s smut is jill x fem reader ♡ random thing but whenever i think of jill, heavy metal lover by lady gaga plays in my head.

decided to do a guided masturbation. like jill helping you masturbate bc jill <3 love her sm

no warnings, fem!reader as always, dom!jill, use of toys, jill’s a tease, think that’s all! ♡ reader is implied to be shy but she doesn’t speak. i don’t like including dialogues for reader.

this is me. this is who’s writing all of this filth. face reveal /j

this one’s gonna be a bit short, sorry everyone. need to get back into the rhythm of writing once every two days or something. still, wanna write things before/during valentine’s

Jill is a girlfriend material. literally all you could ask for; protective, loving. her love is gentle, despite seeming rough sometimes. despite that, she likes to tease you from time to time. you’re just too cute. the way you flutter your eyes, try to get closer to her, touch her, but you never seem to find a way. you give hints, and she has to pick up on them. but that’s okay, she thinks it’s sweet, really.

that doesn’t stop her from trying to get you out of your shell. she started giving hints, too, but never actually initiating a thing. your surprise makes her chuckle. so sweet, truly. she’s touching you, gripping your thigh, but never doing more than that. and it worked, rather quick.

in a couple of days, maybe a week or so, she managed to get you to ask her to help you touch yourself because Jill touches you the way you see stars. you don’t know how she’s doing that, or at least, not like Jill. it’s as if your body is unable to get off if it’s not Jill.

but, this is exactly what Jill wanted. for you to come to her, with that quiet voice of yours, begging for her strap to fuck you into oblivion like she always does. however, that’s not what’s happening today.

“My princess needs help huh? C’here,”

she puts you on her lap, but instead of putting a strap right into your snug walls, she shoves it into your mouth, making you suck on it. you gag and whine a bit but you love it, and she likes soothing your oral fixation. she can feel you already soaking, and she just has to press a kiss to the top of your cute head.

“That cunt’s begging for me, huh? Cute little thing.” she whispers it right into your ear, placing a hand on your clothed pussy, throwing the panties off, somewhere to the side, already circling your clit. you look so pretty with mouth full of silicone cock, makes her horny as hell. she teases you, pushing the tips of her fingers into your hole, before instantly pulling out, smirking as she sees the shift of your hips. you’re desperate, she knows. her poor girl, so wet for her.

she reaches out to pull out a magic wand, pressing it against your clit, grinning as you clench around nothing. Jill lives for your reactions. she cups your breast, sucking on it while playing with the other breast. she makes sure you keep sucking the strap, while playing with your sweet little cunt until it’s weeping for release.

still, she wanted to make you beg for it. when she feels you’re close, she suddenly pulls away, making you mewl and whine out at the loss of the stimulation.

“What’s up, baby? Can’t hear you when you’re so quiet.” obviously you’re not quiet, but you know what she means — beg for it. she really just wants you to get you out of your shell. you get the hint, and although you can’t find good words, you slur out a mess of words filled with want about how much you want her to continue.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” she responds, staring at you with so much appreciation. slow, but steady, right? next time she’s gonna make you talk more, that’s for sure. noticing you’re getting flustered, she chuckles, restoring her movements and making you lose your mind again. it wouldn’t feel good if it wasn’t Jill touching you — she just makes everything magical, in some way. it feels overwhelming, but you want more— it just feels too good, the way Jill’s playing with your tits, pressing the wand in all the right places. you just can’t help but buck your hips, cumming all over with a loud whine.

satisfied, Jill decides to give you some peace from stimulation, for now. still, she lays down with you, patting her thigh, muttering words, using just the right tone to make your head cloudy,

“Surely you won’t leave me all soaking right?”