#the daffodils look lovely today

[warriorteam1924]

The daffodils look lovely today

Freddie Mercury x Jim Hutton

Author’s note : Hello my beauties. This piece is very special because it is for a special event. This is for Freddie Mercury weekend 22, hopefully fitting the prompt ‘petals’ I’m not tagging the host cause i don’t expect a mere reblog just because or to have visibility. I want to express my love for Freddie, Jim, Queen, while I’m not particularly at a good place at this very moment. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback. Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes….

Warnings : none, despite it’s not my fave genre, this is fluff.... 

Summary : Flowers and Petals in Garden Lodge.... 

Words count : 1,343words

Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose​ @orionis8689​ @queenlover05​ (I’m begging you to let me know if the tags bother you please) 

Jim Hutton wasn’t sure if he was truly a gardener or not, all he knew was he adored flowers. All of them were so wonderful, so unique, and their smell was so exquisite. Being outside Garden Lodge was always a blessing for him. No matter the season, he enjoyed being surrounded by nature. Psithurism was surely one of his favorite melodies. But it was before he met Freddie Mercury.

 Jim couldn’t exactly recall when he realized he was in love with this wonderful man. All he knew was that he couldn’t bear to live another day without being by his side. Jim loved everything about Freddie. His charisma, his kindness, his extravagance in public while actually being sometimes reserved in private. He was of course such a handsome man, Jim couldn’t deny it. And his voice. Freddie had managed to seduce the world with his voice, and Jim knew why. He had fallen for it as well. No matter what Freddie was saying, just rambling about the very often unpleasant British weather, or enthusiastically moving his arms as he was talking about the last opera record he got, Jim found it was always the most wonderful sound to come to his ears.

 Jim didn’t know what Freddie found attractive in him. He was an average man, not really good looking. But eventually, he convinced his own mind that Freddie also loved him back for who he was, that there was no need to try and be anyone else, since the singer was always sincere and genuine with him. There was no longer need to doubt, no time to waste with questions and uncertainty.

 As he was spending a lot of time in the garden while Freddie was in the studio recording or arranging music with his band, Jim particularly enjoyed taking care of the garden, making sure there were flowers all year long. This way, he always had an excuse to offer a fresh bouquet to his lover.

 Freddie was always delighted when he got flowers from Jim. He was taking them in his arms with a wide smile, and Jim felt his heart melt every time the singer was grinning, aware he was one of the rare persons on this planet to have such a privilege.

 Yet, before the bouquets could even wilt, Jim always noticed the vase was emptied. Every time he passed in front of the emptied and cleaned vase, he wondered if one of the cats had knocked the flowers over, but also asked himself why the vase wasn’t broken. Yet, despite the questions, Jim carried on making sure there were blossoming flowers in the garden, and always a nice bouquet for his lover in the house.

 It was another day and yet another celebration for Freddie. He was proud of Garden Lodge and loved to have guests around, taking any excuse to have people coming over. Jim wasn’t fully sure as for why the singer liked to have guests so often, but as long as it made him happy, he didn’t care much.

 “Jim, darling, could you bring us our hats, please? I don’t want our heads to overheat while we’re outside.”, Freddie asked his lover, then pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You know, the ones with the flowers. I wouldn’t want to be out of tune in this wonderful garden.”, he added with a wink, shaking his hips a little with a smirk.

 How could Jim ever say no to him? With a smile, and feeling like he blushed a bit all the same after Freddie’s kiss, Jim headed inside then went upstairs, looking for these outrageously big hats.

 Freddie was a very conscientious man, but him seeking for perfection only applied to music it seemed. This wardrobe was an absolute mess. There were clothes everywhere, only a few things actually properly folded. Jim sighed, but began to move the T-shirts and other colorful tops to find the hats.

 “There is even a carton box in here, what the hell….?”, Jim sighed, exasperation slowly winning over his patience.

 He put it aside, willing to carry on looking, but he couldn’t find the hats Freddie was talking about. Maybe he had put them somewhere else….

 Jim turned again, putting the clothes back inside the wardrobe. There was no time to fold them properly anyways. Freddie and the guests were still waiting in the garden.

 He looked around to make sure he didn’t forget anything, but he noticed he had left the carton box on the bedroom floor. Rolling his eyes as he wondered how on earth he was going to fit it back in the wardrobe, he took a closer look all the same. And he even dared to open it after reading the label that was written on top of it.

 Freddie was still in the garden with his guests, looking towards the bedroom windows, wondering what was taking Jim so long. He excused himself then headed back inside, willing to find Jim.

 The singer directly walked towards the bedroom, where he found Jim seated on the floor, with a notebook open in front of him. The carton box was still on the floor, open as well.

 “Oh.”, Freddie let out as he saw this scene.

 “Freddie….”, Jim said, half whispering, half sobbing.

 “Oh, no, no, please don’t cry, darling, or I’m gonna cry as well….”, the singer hastily said, rushing towards his lover, sitting next to him.

 “Fred…. What does it mean?”, Jim asked, pointing at the box. “Where does this come from?”.

 “Well.”, he replied, passing his hand in his shiny black hair. “I gathered a few petals from the bouquets you’ve been offering me from the beginning….”, he explained, feeling embarrassed. “All of them, actually….”.

 “Oh, Freddie….”, Jim said, tears running in his cheeks again.

 “And in the notebook you have in your hands, I taped all the notes you wrote to me, when you gave me the flowers….”, the singer carried on explaining.

 “That’s so so sweet of you.”, Jim said, placing a hand on his lover’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “But…. This doesn’t explain what’s written on the carton box….”, he pointed out.

 “Well. It’s…. I ….”, Freddie hesitated, mumbling slightly. “I keep those for the kids to throw the petals on the aisle when we get married. Hence, the ‘our wedding’ note on the box….”, he said, lowering his head.

 “But….”, Jim hesitated.

 “I know.”, Freddie replied, fully aware they couldn’t legally get married.

 The two of them remained silent, dreamily staring at the carton box, fully of colorful petals Freddie had gathered.

 “Will you marry me?”, Jim suddenly asked, as if it was coming out of nowhere.

 “What?”, Freddie asked.

 “Freddie Mercury, will you marry me?”, Jim repeated, looking at him in the eyes.

 The singer frowned, not really knowing what to do. He knew it would never lead them to a real marriage with a real administrative proof the two of them were legally partners. But he also knew he loved the man standing next to him, the man who still had his cheeks wet because of the tears, more than his own life. There was no need to pounder the question.

 “Yes. I want to be your husband, Jim.”, Freddie eventually replied with a smile.

 The two men embraced each other, both of them rolling on the floor, kisses covering the other’s face. They carried on rolling on the floor, pecks still pressing on their respective skins, until they bumped in the edge of the bed.

 “Ah, look, here are the hats….”, Jim said, as he looked under their bed. “The guests are surely wondering where we are….”.

 “Yes, probably. But I don’t care. I’m your fiancé now. Nothing else in this universe matters.”, Freddie replied, putting yet another kiss on his lover’s lips.

 They eventually grabbed the hats and went back to the gardens with their guests, enjoying this beautiful day.

 And it was the most wonderful of them all, because once again, Jim and Freddie’s hearts were filled with the other’s love. 

[foxsoulcourt]

greens, yellows + more for @bishybarnaby

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

My precious Jewel ♧

Bale!Bruce Wayne x soon-to-be wife!reader

A/N: I got carried away. I'm very passionate about Bale!Bruce and just lost control at one point. I'm not sorry, hehe! This is for all my Bale!Bruce girlies. Can be read for any Bruce, though! Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Prompt: Bruce spoiling you to the high heavens and only wanting your love in return.

Requested by: my lovely mutual @vampkennedy

Warnings: NFSW CONTENT. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, very very fluffy, kinda possessive Bruce

Word count: 3.6k

PART 2 ♡

Please don't copy my work. I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

❤️◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇💍◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇❤️

❤️◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇💍◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇❤️

There was not a morning where you didn't wake up like this. You were alone, yes, but you knew he wasn't far. He never was. This had turned into a game of sorts. A spiel where he would shower you in lavish gifts every single morning. It was his way of showing you just how much you meant to him and that you held his heart in your hands.

You sat up in your shared bed and stretched your arms, letting out a yawn. Your gaze fell to the sliver of light that your curtains couldn't keep out. Getting up, you followed it carefully, knowing that he wanted you to. He was Bruce Wayne, nothing was a coincidence. Everything was intenional. A small, red box sat on your vanity, a note right next to it. It was being perfectly illuminated by the slice of sunshine cutting through the darkness of the room. A smile crept onto your face as you read the note your lover had left you.

My beloved,

May this bring a sparkle to your life, just as you have brought to mine.

Love,

Bruce ♡

You rolled your eyes at how corny this was, but it still tugged at your heart strings in the best way possible. Every day there would be a new box and note for you to discover. Placing the gifts in just the right spot and, like today, draping the curtain just at the perfect angle to guide the way to his love. He was always awake before you were but that didn't stop him. He'd never missed a day and you doubt he ever would.

You looked forward to this as well, but not because of the jewelry or whatever other expensive gifts he had prepared. No. It was the notes. It were the cruelly scribbled down words that made your heart beat out of your chest.

You loved the gifts as well, but the notes held a special place in your heart. Putting down the piece of paper, you carefully picked up the tiny box and opened the lid. Your mouth fell slightly agape at the sight before you. In the smooth, white pillows sat a delicate necklace. It was glistening in the morning glow ever so nicely.

A beautifully crafted rose pendant hung from it, the intricate petals were cold to the touch as you gently grazed the tips of your fingers over them. This had been one of most extravagant presents he'd ever given you. Bruce did always call you his flower. You brought so much to his once dull and gray life; his heart and soul bloomed like the delicate daffodils did in early spring everytime he thought of you. You brought color and joy. Just like flowers did.

"Oh, Bruce..." you sniffled, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks. Carefully picking it up, you placed it around your neck and fastened the clasp. It fit perfectly, sitting ever so delicately on your skin. You admired yourself in your vanity mirror, your fingers slightly grazing the skin just around the necklace.

You couldn't wait to show Bruce. Yes, he'd picked it out but it looked so different on you than it did on the silken interior of the small box.

Throwing on one of your many, many silk robes that Bruce insisted on getting in every single color, you quickly made your way down the grand staircase. The cold marble tiles sending a delightfully cool feeling up your spine each time you took a step. You rushed down the stairs, a steady grasp on the railing. The sunlight streaming in through the many windows fell right onto your ring.

Slowing your pace, you held your hand up to the light and examined the shimmering band. A reminder of his love. He had proposed to you just a few days ago. It was incredibly special, just the two of you under the stars. He popped the question in the stunning garden of Wayne manor that Alfred worked so hard on.

Speaking of Alfred, he was more excited than either of you. He had to sit down and went through an entire box of tissues when you broke the news. What a kind soul. You had the dumbest smile on your face recalling the events from a couple of days ago. Letting out a squeal, you pressed your hands to your heart. You were getting married. Not only that, but to him. The love of your life.

You couldn't wait any longer, you had to see him. Hurrying the rest of the way to the dinning hall, you composed yourself before entering. And the sight. Dear God. Bruce was sat at the head of the table in his boxers and a white T-shirt, coffee cup in one hand, newspaper in the other. He looked so domestic, so peaceful. Not like previous nights where he'd limp in, all battered and bruised.

Slightly looking up, his furrowed brows were immediately replaced with a wide grin when he spotted you. Putting down the mug and the paper he got out of his chair, walking your way. You met him halfway, your arms thrown loosely around his neck as his snaked around your waist.

"If it isn't my beautiful wife." He grinned, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. "Ah, soon-to-be wife." You corrected him, the smile on your cheeks never leaving. He chuckled lowly and shook his head. "What took you so long, Honey?" He questioned softly. You laughed at his eagerness to see you. "I was held up by your generosity, Mr. Wayne." You teased, taking one of his hands and placing it on your collarbone, right next to the stunning piece of jewelry.

His gaze fell to your neck and his smile faded, leaving him wide-eyed and with his mouth slightly agape. He tenderly caressed your soft skin with his thumb, tracing the shape of the necklace. "I knew it'd be perfect," He breathed out, followed by a breathy chuckle. Your cheeks flushed and you brought his hand up to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles.

"Thank you, Sweetheart. For all these precious gifts. For always making me wake up with a smile on my face. You've made me the happiest girl in the world." You confessed, the softest smile on your face. Bruce swear his heart just melted inside his chest. He made you the happiest girl in the world? You have no idea how happy you made him. He felt invincible, like the king of the world. He was convinced he only needed your love to accomplish whatever he set his mind to. You were his oxygen, the blood in his veins, the very spirit of his soul.

Bruce was determined to show you just how much you meant to him, if that was possible. "Anything for you, my love." He said, having the most adoring look in his eyes. You'd placed your hand on his cheek in the meantime, the golden engagement band cold against his skin. "I love you, Bruce." You whispered, gently leaning in for a tender kiss. He didn't hesitate, pulling you closer to him by your waist. You relaxed against his lips, tightening the grip you had on the back of his neck.

You needed more, you needed him. He chuckled against your lips but complied, deepening the kiss. Pulling away for air, you were breathless and your lips were puffy. He would kiss you breathless forever if he could. And God knows you would let him. His playboy days paid off for something because this man could kiss. And you loved how you were the only one to feel those kisses.

"Look at you. My eager, little wife." A sly smirk was on his face and he made sure to emphasize the last word. You opened your mouth to correct him again, but he quickly interrupted you with another breathtaking yet soft kiss. You didn't now why you were so easily flustered by his kisses, you'd been together for years. There just something so electric and new about being his. Truly being his. Him being yours.

"I know we're not married yet, but I can call you whatever I want. You're mine." He said lowly, pupils dilated. His grip on your waist tightend. He's never done that. Never called you his. Told you you were his. It was implied, of course, but he'd never said the actual words. You just stood there, face flushed to the high heavens with the biggest lovesick smile on your face. His tone softened again when he spoke.

"I want you to wear the necklace to the Gala tonight." Your brows furrowed and you slightly tilted your head in confusion. "What Gala?" You asked, no idea what he was talking about. "Oh, it's a... spontaneous thing. There's a new dress in the closet." He answered. You squinted your eyes in suspicion. "Spontaneous, huh? Also, we talked about this, Sweetheart. I don't need a new dress for every event! I've barely worn the other hundreds." You laughed.

He just grinned in response. You knew he loved to see you in something new each time, he loved spoiling you. Only the best for his love. "That's where we disagree. Would you wrap a diamond ring in used wrapping paper?" He teased. You playfully rolled your eyes at him. "No, I wouldn't." You sighed.

"All the other dress just can't keep up with your inner beauty." He breathed, a soft look in his eyes. You folded. You could never be upset with him for long, you loved him too much. "Fine, I'll wear it. You're lucky I love you," you pouted. He wanted you to never stop saying that. That you loved him. Something he'd longed for, for so long. To be loved, truly loved. Not for his money, his status, his looks. But because of who he was. And you did just that. From the odd noises he made when he slept, to the extremely bad jokes he made. You were always there, tending to his wounds, whether they affected his body or his soul. Holding him so softly after a hard night, he feared you'd crumble under his calloused hands.

"Well, I'll get ready for the day. I'll see you later, okay?" You said, pressing a quick peck to his lips. He hummed in response as you slipped from his grasp.

"Honey?" you turned around, already halfway up the stairs.

"There will be a lot more press and paparazzi there today," he said. "Why?" You asked curiously, fully turning around on the stairs. "They're expecting Mrs. Wayne." He shot you a wink and gave you one of those signature smiles as he walked away.

He was right. There were a lot more people. The streets leading up to the location were lined completely with camera wielding, and very nosy paparazzi and news anchors. Everyone was hoping to catch a glimpse. This was huge for the press. They probably thought that this day would never come. Bruce Wayne, Gothams millionaire playboy was settling down? Impossible. The moment you stepped out of the car they were all over you. Invading your personal space, shoving cameras and microphones in your face. This was sensational. They wanted to know more about the woman who tightly held Bruce Wayne's heart in her delicate hands.

They had written some pretty bad stuff about Bruce in the past, not that he cared. But when one peticular news article labeled you as just a trophy wife, all hell broke loose. He sued them until bankruptcy. How dare they. How dare they lable his wife, his world, his precious jewel, as just a trophy. You were the light of his life, you loved him and he loved you. He loved you more than they would ever know and he would burn them to the ground if they ever suggested otherwise again. No press had the guts to call you names again, or they would feel the wrath of a very in love Bruce Wayne.

He came to your rescue pretty quickly. Positioning himself between you and the paparazzi, acting as human shield. Bruce gently placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you through the doors. You let out a breath you didn't know you held.

"Jesus, do they not have better things to do.." you mumbled, hooking your arm with his. "This is their job, so no, Honey." He grinned. You rolled your eyes at him. You knew that, but did they have to be so obnoxious? If they asked nicely maybe you would actually answer some of their absurd questions. You made your way into the center of the room where the upper class of Gotham was already mingling with a glass of very expensive champagne in hand.

Bruce couldn't stop glancing over at you. The floor length, satin gown was tailored to perfection, showing of your body in the best way. The rose necklace sat nicely around your neck, sparkling under the bright light of the many chandeliers. Your hair was in an updo, showing off your earrings perfectly as they lightly swaying as you walked. Your soft hands were decorated with the many rings he had showered you with, the extravagant engagement band catching everyone's eye.

God, you looked so elegant on his arm, almost floating along the granite floor. The bright smile on your lips melted his heart as you greeted people. Unimportant people, if you ask him. "You look absolutely beautiful, my love," he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning over your neck, sending a chill down your spine.

"You flatter me, Darling. I'm glad you wore this suit, it's my favorite," you gently ran your hand down his chest. It too, was tailored just right. His heart beat faster. He didn't know you had a favorite suit. One that you longed to see him wear because it just made him look that good. "What's this Gala for anyway?" You asked, toying with the lapel of his jacket.

"Oh, you know, just some... charity," he responded with a breathy laugh. You raised your eyebrows at him. Your eyes widened in realization and a knowing smirk made its way on your pretty face. "Did you plan this whole thing just to show me off?" You questioned amused. He stumbled over his words, a very rare occurrence.

"What? Of course not, Honey, that-that'd be absurd-" you interrupted him by pressing a finger over his lips. "Fine. Let them see. Let them see how much I love you." You whispered, smashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. One hand was on the back of his neck, keeping him close to you, the other was steadied on his chest. His hands instinctively snaked around your middle, holding you tightly.

All eyes were on you, hushed whispers and gasps filling the room. You pulled away, chest heaving. Bruce's pupils were dilated. "God, you're perfect..." he whispered breathlessly. He couldn't wait to leave this stupid event and shower you in his affection.

The Gala was a success and you were finally back at the manor. You were standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom and admired yourself one last time before you'd take it all off. Bruce came up behind you, the jacket of his suit discarded and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, trailing kisses along your exposed skin. You let out a breathy laugh. "Look who's eager now," you teased.

Bruce chuckled against your neck. "Can you blame me when you look like that?" He said lowly. He dragged his hands up your back and slowly pulled the zipper to your dress down. With a gentle brush of his hand, he let the dress slip off your shoulders and onto the floor. You were left in nothing but your panties, which quickly joined your gown and the floor as he pushed them down your plush hips.

"You're a little overdressed, don't you think?" You said softly, yet seductively as he continued placing wet kisses along your bare shoulder and neck. "You tell me, Honey," he answered. The taste of your skin was intoxicating. You turned around, putting your hands on his chest and slowly pushing him towards the bed. When the back of his thighs hit the bed, he sat down, pulling you into his lap.

"I think you are," you mumbled hazily, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the ground. You moved your hips over his hard cock, straining against his pants. A low groan erupted from his throat at your actions. You could feel your wetness dripping from you, leaving a wet patch on his crotch. He pulled you in for a desperate kiss as you reached down to unbuckle his belt and slip off his pants.

Bruce was left in his boxers, which were quickly taken care of. His throbbing cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. You took his dick into your ring clad hand and pumped up and down a few times, making his head fall back. "Fuck, Baby..." he groaned, squeezing your hips. Lifting your hips, you lined his length up with your pussy and sank down onto it, a long moan falling from your lips. "G-God.. you fit so well. It's like you were made for me.." you mumbled out, your hands finding their place on his shoulders. He was made for you, he was sure of it. He was yours, until the end.

He moaned out your name when you started moving your hips, which he guided with his hands. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, occasionally tugging and pulling at it. Bruce looked up at you as you bounced on his cock. Your beautiful face was contorted in pleasure, and the jewelry he had bought you still adorned you so nicely. There was a layer of sweat covering your skin, making you shine. Just like your necklace glistened in the dimly lit room. You looked like a Goddess above him, decorated with delicate pieces of jewelry. Jewelry he bought for you.

God, he wasn't sure he wanted to fuck you another way ever again. Your ring was cold against his skin, reminding him that you were his. For him to take, however he pleased. He would buy every diamond in Gotham if it meant having a sight like this before him. Your hips started moving faster, as you moaned. "Shit...M'getting c-close," you breathed out, letting your head fall against his shoulder.

He was almost upset at you for taking away his privilege of admiring you, but he never got the chance once he heard your cute little moans and whines right beside his ear. "Me too, Honey, keep going.." he panted. You pressed your body to his, your tits sitting beautifully against his chest. Bruce glanced down and saw the curves of your soft tits adorned with the stunning necklace.

It molded to their curve so perfectly, making him tighten the grip on your hips, frantically moving you up and down his cock. He chased his release, your warm, wet walls feeling too good. You gasped as his dick hit that one that that made your head spin. "Oh fuck, I can't wait to call you my husband.." you rambled out, barely registering what you'd confessed.

That pushed him over the edge as he shot his load inside you with a guttural groan, filling you up. Your husband. That was music to his ears. That's all he wants, to be yours, to be loved by you. You clenched around him and came with a cry of his name. Panting, you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "Did you mean that?" He asked quietly, kneading the flesh of your hips.

"Did I mean what?" You asked, breathing heavily. Bruce hestitated, letting out a nervous chuckle. "That you can't wait to call me your husband."

"Oh.. I did. I love you so much, Sweetheart. More than you'll ever know. My heart is yours, Bruce," you said softly, stroking his cheek. "I love you too, Honey." He responded, kissing you passionately.

"I'll draw us a bath," you breathed, raking your fingers through his locks. He hummed in response, reluctantly letting go of you. You slipped off his cock. He watched his cum trickling down your thigh as you walked towards the bathroom. He groaned at the sight, falling back onto the bed with a smile.

Bruce was laying with his head against your chest, surrounded by bubbles and soap. His back was pressed to your front and your hands were wrapped around him. You could feel him relax against you, the tension in his shoulders fading. "I keep them, you know," you said softly from behind him. The water rippled as he turned his head to look at you.

"Keep what?" He asked. "The notes. The ones you always place next to my gifts? I keep all of them," you spoke, tracing patterns on his pecs. "You do?" He smiled. "Yeah, I read them when you're gone and I'm feeling sad. They're in a box in my nightstand." You mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you so much, Honey," he said quietly. "I love you more, Bruce."

From that moment on, he put more effort into his notes. They keep getting longer and longer, almost turning into letters as he confessed his love to you every single day. You would still read them when you're old and gray, because his love for you would never fade. Just like how your love for him would never be lost to time, you would love him until the end, continuing in your next life. Your souls and hearts were bound, and they would never stop searching until they found eachother once again.

❤️◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇💍◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇❤️

[writersblockiskillingme]

hiiii here’s my request idea 🫶🏽 after getting sent to district 12 coriolanus meets fem!reader (who’s a part of the covey) he thought he was in love with lucy gray but ends up falling for reader way more intensely than he did for lucy gray but reader feels guilty because lucy gray seems to really like him and she doesn’t want to betray her

Another Love | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (Covey!reader)

Summary: He loved her from a moment he saw her, but she can't love him back.

Warning/s: angst, heartbreak, forbidden love, two or three curse words, tears, possessive Coriolanus, reader's abusive ex, ex touching the reader without permission (nothing graphic, he just grabs reader's arm), no happy ending, grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I used some of the lyrics of Taylor Swift's King of My Heart as a song that "reader wrote for Coryo" and I skipped one part of the main song that I used because I felt like it wouldn't fit the timeline. So, this one's been a long time coming, but I hope you enjoy!

(Y/N) - your name

(Y/H/C) - your hair color

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care

But it's so cold and I don't know where

I brought you daffodils in a pretty string

But they won't flower like they did last spring

Coriolanus Snow felt his nerves getting the best of him. He felt shivers going down his spine as Lucy Gray and him got closer and closer to their destination.

He was supposed to meet the rest of the Covey, her family, today. Lucy Gray held his hand tightly, squeezing it a bit more as she noticed just how nervous he truly seemed to be.

It didn't comfort him much.

Not her hand in his, it felt too small now. Nor her presence next to him. It didn't excite him as much as it did once. Yet he loved her, right?

Right?

As they finally got to the lake the lake he noticed a group of people sitting by the edge of the lake.

He could practically feel the excitement radiating off of Lucy Gray as he noticed one of them turned around noticing them and taping the ones close to gain their attention to the arrivals, too.

Lucy Gray didn't let go of him as she eagerly introduced him to evey single member of her family, the Covey.

That day Coriolanus met little Maude Ivory, Barb Azure, Tam Amber and Clerk Carmine Clade.

"And finally my big cousin, (Y/N) Baird." Lucy Gray smiled and when you looked up Coriolanus could've sworn that his heart stopped.

Your beauty was truly unmatched, your kind smile so radiant so infection that he was willing to die because of it any day you wished. Your hair was graciously flowing around in the wind just like your light summer dress. Your posture, your face. But once you spoke he knew that he was a gonner.

"Nice to meet you, Coriolanus Snow." Your voice was as kind as your eyes, it matched you perfectly.

Later on, he saw you sitting under the tree, away from the sun, away from the rest of your family.

Coriolanus felt truly, utterly, stupid for a bit as he stood a few feet away from Lucy Gray's, obviously favorite, cousin as he held a young, brightly yellow, daffodil that he found by the edge of the forest, not that far away from the lake where the rest of the Covey were.

He didn't know why did he do it. He didn't know why would he pick a flower and give it to you. He just figured that the flower was pretty (just like you were) and that you will probably like it.

But deep down he knew, but just yet wouldn't admit it to himself.

"For you."

You looked up, your eyes meeting with gorgeous blue ones as he held out a gorgeous daffodil to you. You couldn't help but to laugh out loud at the irony that consumed you.

Coriolanus watched you laugh, he never heard a sound as angelic as this, not even when he heard Lucy Gray sing.

He hated himself for it. He hated himself for wanting to bottle up that angelic laugh and keep it for himself, to protect it, to own it. But he couldn't help but to wonder why are you laughing.

"What's funny if I may ask?" He gently asked, afraid that you were laughing at him, finding his stupidity oh so amazing. He was scared of rejection, but why?

He's with Lucy Gray.

"It's just-" Your laughter turned into a giggle, Coriolanus felt blood suddenly rushing into his cheeks as he heard the sound that you were making, because of him.

"Daffodils are my favorite flowers, it's a little funny that you picked a random flower and guessed this."

Coriolanus couldn't help himself. He found himself laughing too as he sat down and got to know you.

The day passed quickly, probably because he spent it with you. So as he stepped away from you after saying goodbye and as he slipped his hand into Lucy Gray's hand he knew he fucked up.

The way his chest tightened when you laughed, the way his hand accidentally brushed against yours when you talked he realized that it fit his perfectly. Like it was made to be held by him. The way that your hair fell in front of your eyes, shielding them from him... all he wanted was to brush it away, yet he knew he couldn't.

And as Lucy Gray talked about how happy she was that he got along with everyone amazingly, he knew he fucked up because he realized that he fell in love with you even though he knew that he shouldn't have.

And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight

But my hand's been broken one too many times

So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude

Words, they always win, but I know I'll lose

"Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping"

Your voice echoed through the bar as you sang your heart out on the stage.

The people around were dancing and singing along with your beautiful, angelic yet strong voice like their life dependent on it.

Coriolanus was standing in the corner, leaned against the weirdly wet wall, smile placed onto his face as he watched you perform. Warm feeling spreaded across his chest as he watched you. A fire that will soon be drowned buy cold icy feeling as he watched someone coming up to you. Talking to you while you clearly didn't want to talk to him.

"Let go of me, now!"

Coriolanus took one step forward so he could see better and try to figure out who is bothering you and clearly making you uncomfortable. He felt himself freeze once he realized who it was.

Thomas Vill. Your abusive ex.

He remembered Lucy Gray talking to him about your ex. He remembered her saying that he made your life a living hell.

Coriolanus instantly saw red the moment he realized that he harshly grabbed your hand, not letting you go. The fear in your eyes was enough to set Coriolanus to move toward the stage as quickly as he could.

He still doesn't remember how that happened, but he grabbed Thomas by his shoulders as he planted his fist directly into his face, blood spraying his fist the moment it locked onto Thomas' face.

He heard you gasp at the sight, but he didn't stop.

Coriolanus pushed Thomas onto the floor as he started to beat the audacity out of him. You never saw him this angry before.

You quickly, somehow, snapped out of the shock and started to try and pull Coriolanus off of him because you realized that if you didn't do something, he will kill him in front of you.

And it's not like Thomas didn't deserve it, but you didn't want Coryo to get into more trouble now that he had finally somewhat gotten his life into control.

Sejanus Plinth saw what happened. He was quick to join you and started to pull Coriolanus off of Thomas. He lucky succeed because he was stronger. He was a Peacekeeper after all.

You felt panic arise into your throat as you looked around and realized that almost everyone was staring at you.

Without spearing Thomas a second glance, you ran after Coriolanus and Sejanus. Your mind racing, what will Lucy Gray think? Why did her love beat up her cousin's ex in front of more than half of District 12.

Once you pushed yourself through the crowd you finally reached the outside where you saw Coriolanus spitting some blood from his mouth, your heart braking at the sight.

"What did you think that you were doing?!" You couldn't help to yell at him as you finally reached him.

"He was lucky I didn't kill him." Coriolanus answered calmly as he rubbed his lips to get rid of the blood.

"You can't do that, Coryo!" You continued, finally spilling your emotions out in front of the man you loved.

"So what?!" Coriolanus raised his voice now, too. "I could've just let that bastard touch you against your will?!"

"No!" You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. "But what would Lucy Gray think if she saw you doing that?"

You were so scared.

Was he not thinking rationally?

"I don't care." He answered, truthfully, you knew that and it scared you.

For a moment you were quiet until he spoke up again.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked you, peeking at you in the night, moonlight reflected the beauty of his deep blue eyes.

"No..." You felt every last bit of air leave your lungs as you spoke, panic raising in your chest. "You can't love me, Coryo."

"Why not?" He asked in frustration, his chest moving up and down in desperate attempt to calm himself, to try and rid himself of this injustice.

"Don't-" your voice broke. "Don't do this to me." You begged.

He gently grabbed your hand and your breath quickened, it was nothing like when Thomas grabbed you earlier. This was soft, caring even as he brought your body closer to his.

"Tell me why." He was begging now, oh God how much did he hate this. "Tell me that you don't love me."

"I-"

"Look me in the eyes, (Y/N), and tell me that you don't love me and I will walk away." Coriolanus spoke, his breath on your cold cheeks as he spoke. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't want me."

"Coryo-"

"Break my heart the way it's supposed to happen." He breathed out. "Go on."

"I-" You took a deep breath, meeting his eyes not realizing that you're crying. "I love you, but I can't."

"(Y/N)-"

"You can want to love me and I can do that too, but I can't do it to my cousin." You spoke separating yourself from him as you left him in the middle of the cold night, tears streaming down your cheeks as you went.

Lucy Gray.

And I'd sing a song that'd be just ours

But I sang 'em all to another heart

And I wanna cry, I wanna learn to love

But all my tears have been used up

"Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep."

Lucy Gray's voice echoed through the bar as she played the guitar and sang the song you wrote.

You told the Covey you weren't really feeling good so you decided to stay backstage as you listened to Lucy Gray and the rest of the Covey, and watched the crowd singing and dancing the the words that you poured out from the depths of your heart.

Your eyes were searching for Coriolanus in the bar and after a while you finally found him.

He was sitting on a par of turned-over buckets with Sejanus. He was wearing simple clothes instead of his Peacekeeper uniform, but he was still wearing his dog tag that initiated that he had probably finished his shift and he decided to show up here.

You couldn't do this.

Lucy Gray's voice was happily singing away at the cords and lyrics that were written by you as she kept her eyes looked onto Coriolanus' blue ones.

His eyes were sparkling, but not as much as they did when he was with you.

Lucy Gray was so happy with him. So full of joy, and you were so happy for her, but fuck... you loved him, too.

You knew that he loved her, but you also knew that perhaps he loved you more. Yet you knew that you couldn't and wouldn't ever break Lucy Gray's heart like that. She was your cousin and you knew that guilt would be eating you alive, it already did.

So with a tear sliding down your cheek you listened to her sing before you turned around and left.

"And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for,

King of my heart, body and soul"

Coriolanus Snow really tried to keep his eyes on her, but once she sang that his gaze found your (Y/H/C) for a moment before it disappeared behind the curtains. His chest tightened at the sight and at the words that you wrote for him.

You were like a delicate flower, like an angel sent to guide him. You were eveything that he needed, a daffodil in the middle of the winter.

But he couldn't have you and you couldn't have him. It's just the way it had to be, no matter how painful it was.

On another love, another love

All my tears have been used up

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[hellishgayliath]

Clem’s Log

Hi big brother. Today’s March 10th I think? I’m not so great at remembering dates but Papa was dead set on it because that’s your birthday, it’s amazing how he’s able to remember stuff like that after all this time.

I know it’s been a while since we talked, ever since you left I had to take over bird scout duties and just never had the time to sit down and write. Everyone’s been on edge. Y’know I still hold onto that jar of cinnamon sticks you gave me. Started chewing on them out of habit whenever the anxiety and dread was getting to my head. They taste just like home..

…

Um..

Papa told me he saw you again.

When he and a couple of the others were out on patrol with Mr. Leo and big sis Luci I mean COUSIN SERGEANT Luci haha, I think she’d resent me calling her that but I know she secretly adores me.

…

They said.. they said when they saw you you were.. already turned.

You knucklehead I guess that’s why you left in the first place but to leave without saying anything to anybody?! You know Uncle Mikey would’ve helped you like he did with the others that were infected. Or did you already know that it would’ve been pointless? Don’t you at least owe your own little sister a goodbye?! Dummy dum dumdum..

…

…

Papa thought he could somehow magically get through to you, y’know make you remember who you were before life went crazy.

I heard from Mr. Leo that Luci tried to stop Papa from acting like a idiot and getting himself killed. But she ended up getting hurt instead.

Bad.

…

…

Next thing Papa knew, you and Luci were on the ground, with only one of you moving. Judging by Mr. Leo’s face when I saw him come in, he looked very torn and distraught about a very tough call he had to make. I can already guess what it was he had to do. Cousin Luci is in rough shape but insists on rejecting any medical help saying it’d just be a waste of time and resources. Doesn’t she know we’re just trying to help her? The dumdum… Don’t tell her I called her that. I just don’t want to lose her too.

…

Papa said he could’ve sworn he saw a little smile on your face when he cradled you. Maybe that’s you finally realizing you’re not being controlled by those monsters anymore and can now be at peace knowing you can’t hurt anybody else. At least that’s how I see it. It must have been terrifying to go through that alone.

…

It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not FAIR IT’S NOT FAIR

They said they couldn’t even bring your body back because of safety reasons and that it would put the base at risk of being tracked so I couldn’t even get to see you one last time!

I miss my big brother, I miss your dumb goofy smile, I miss us having bug eating competitions and laughing at you nearly choking on a beetle, I miss falling asleep on each other while watching tv, I miss seeing you chase after the raccoons with a broomstick whenever they raided our trash cans, I miss the dogs, I miss the taste of fresh fruit, I miss our HOME! I just want this nightmare to be done with. I’m just so.. tired..

…

Papa told me they at least gave him the chance to make a grave for you and to say his goodbyes. I should’ve been there with him saying them together.

He just looks so defeated and sad. I insisted to him that we at least put together a funeral service for you so the rest of us can say our peace.

…

It was nice.

Uncle Mikey and Bao combined their powers to transform the room into a beautiful recreation of a lush meadow full of butterflies and yellow daffodils while Mr. Tello played some lovely music he still had saved recorded in his tech. It was so tranquil it almost makes you forget for a second you’re in an apocalyptic hell scape.

I think you would've loved it.

…

…

Talk to you again soon and happy birthday you numbskull. I love you.

I miss you..

[bluecapsicum]

Cold winter skies illustrations for my daily meteorological fiction project, Reports From Unknown Places About Indescribable Events (Twitter, Instagram, Mastodon, archives on my website).

Keep reading for the companion texts.

December 31st: We report: sometimes, we think we know what to expect when it comes to the sky. We go a few days, maybe a couple of weeks without much happening, a rainbow perhaps, a contrail... We think we know the sky. It happens then, that the clouds twist and knit into impossibilities.

January 4th: We report: we went to the planetarium with our expert, once. We spent an hour watching as we got further, and further away from Earth, then the solar system, our galaxy, and then our galaxy group, until there was nowhere to go anymore. We got brought home, to our beating heart.

January 11th: We report: good morning, we would like to draw attention to a lovely and unexpected event occurring at this moment. Would you please look up to the clouds and notice how, though the sky is largely grey, the gulls flying overhead are tinted orange by the sunrise light? Thank you.

January 12th: We report: in the hollow of a valley, sleepy lightning bugs. There is grey little light dragging itself through the air like it does not want to be here, and we are cold with our hands in our pockets and our nose in our scarf and our ears exposed and bright red (nobody sees).

January 22nd: We report: we have missed a train today, but we can only hope that the train dearly missed us in return. We waited at the station for the next one for a long time, watched people get off and on different trains until it got too cold for us to wait outside. Wispy cirrus.

January 27th: We report on a winter morning: there was a robin and a few hares, blending in with the snowy grass. The snowflakes were heavy enough that we could hear them fall around us. We could smell the cold air until our nose started running. Grey sludge on the side of salted roads.

January 28th: We report: it is after nightfall, but there are still many sparrows chattering in the trees. The air is dank out here, and as we walk, we can feel condensation forming on our face, the white puffs of our breath dissolving into the night. Our expert walks a few steps behind us.

January 31st: We report sometime around sunrise (what sun, rising from where, one might ask on this cloudy morning). The light, weak and mournful, does not weigh enough to reach down the deep blue dark of the ocean. The sea, torn by the wind, is busy frothing and making everything capsize.

February 20th: We report: the barometer and the thermometer are both down. It rained a lot last night, and today, the waters are murky, agitated even through the advection fog. We cannot see the horizon. We picked up a nice, pearlescent seashell that glimmered in the sand amidst all the grey.

February 24th: We report: hares in the fields, then a partridge later. The mud is frozen, the clouds are thick. Not much wind. Some colza and daffodils blooming on the roadside. A little bit more of February, its low skies and its half-steps, the transitions in the light and the time.

[intriq]

Daffodil

Part of my Hanahaki series

Character: Jason Todd

Theme: Angst

Daffodil: regard, unequalled love

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓

You've known Jason for awhile. You've been friends for a few years at this point.

You've seen him change and grow. Grieved him when he died, welcomed him back when he returned. Supported him when he needed it, because truthfully? He did need it. Even if he was a stubborn asshole about it.

But you also loved him throughout those years. Through all those changes.

You loved him when he died, loved him when you visited his headstone, and you loved him even when he came back. You just always did.

But you also knew he never loved you back. He was never quite capable of seeing of just how head over heels you were for him, even though his family could. To him, you were always just his "best friend".

You thought you could be happy like that, you truly did. You thought you could be content loving him from the sidelines, even if it was suffocating knowing he would never love you back. You thought you'd be okay.

Until you coughed up those flower petals.

You remember the exact day you first discovered you had Hanahaki Disease, too.

It'd been a cloudless night, the first one in a few days. Maybe weeks. Either way, for once Gotham was not shrouded by storm clouds. It was at most, calm. Peaceful. But perhaps that in of itself should have been an omen.

Because Gotham was never peaceful.

You don't remember exactly what was said that night, but you just remember how you'd started coughing the moment Jason was distracted. Had you two been on a stakeout that night? You were almost sure that you were.

You remember so vividly clutching those flower petals in your hands, staring at them before crushing them in your palm, letting them drift in the wind when Jason asks you if you were alright.

And now here you were, months later. Over time Jason would give you suspicious looks when you'd tried to hide your coughing fits, would always double check if you were really okay. But you always said you were.

Until today.

You and Jason are doing the last of your stakeout mission, gathering the last tiniest bits of intel to feed to the others so that way they could take out this newly fledged gang from right under their nose. It's cold, but that's fine. Gotham is always cold, especially in the autumn months.

"How much longer are we supposed to be out here for?"

You pause to think for a minute as your eyes scan the outside of the warehouse the gang had turned into their main base of operations. Taking in every detail, hoping it’d help piece together some of their behavior.

“Not that much longe—“ Your words are cut off by that feeling in your throat, hand flying up reflexively as you scramble to remove your mask just in time to violently begin coughing into the palm of your hand.

You hunch into yourself as you cough, your free hand clutching your mask desperately so you could put it back on at a moments notice. Next to you, Jason is concerned. Behind the red helmet he wears his face is a mixture of concern.

It takes awhile for you to stop coughing. The raw creeping pain that fills your throat and makes your lungs burn is something you’ve grown used to.

You pull your hand away when you feel that same familiar feeling of blood in your hands, wet and hot as it pairs with your spit and the flowers. You try to hide it from Jason, you really do. You try to clench your fist and let it drop to your side.

But Jason is faster. He’s got your hand snagged by the wrist the moment it drops. And he pries your hand open while he remains quiet. And when he sees the flowers and blood in your hands he knows he should’ve done so sooner.

You’d been hiding behind the coughing fits for awhile. Pulling excuses out of the air for each one. Making up reasons for your dwindling strength and stamina, for how your skin got progressively more sickly and pale.

Excuses each and every time that Jason now regrets not looking deeper into.

“Fucking Hanahaki Disease? Seriously?” Jason doesn’t hesitate to say your name in that same tone. He’s angry, but he’s worried. An angry kind of concerned and worried, because for months you’ve probably been suffering alone. And to him, he doesn’t want his best friend to suffer alone. He’s had to do that already, he knows it’s shitty.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it?”

“It’s not important, Red. Doesn’t matter—“

Jason stops you, the grip on your wrist tightening for a moment as he seems to be trying at least a little bit to regulate his emotions.

“Screw that. It’s Jason your talking to right now, not Red Hood.”

“Jason—“

“No! It does fucking matter, okay? Your.. Fuck, you’re my friend, okay? I care about what’s happening to you.”

Your heart aches at the word friend, makes the suffocating feeling in your throat grow tighter. Friend. Of course. That was all you’d ever be to him.

“It’s just a little one sided love, Jason.”

“Little? You call coughing up blood and flowers little? Your dying!”

Your face scrunches up as you begin sputtering again, coughing as more specks of blood fly past your lips.

“If it’s one sided, you need to get the surgery. It’s the only option.”

Immediately your shaking your head, trying to refuse, but Jason’s already picking you up. He’s already died once, brought back by chance because of the Lazarus Pit. He’s not gonna have you die, because you matter to him.

He ignores your protesting pleas as you eventually fall unconscious from the lack of air you are able to get into your lungs because of the flowers growing there.

And Jason brings you to Gotham General.

But when you awaken from that lifesaving surgery, preventing you from dying on the operating table as you were seconds from death, Jason noticed your different with him.

He can see just how different you look at him. You aren’t the same you that he remembers growing up with. The look in your eyes is different, as is your smile.

You aren’t quite as warm, not quite that same ball of sunshine with him as you used to be. At first he thinks it’s because your mad at him for bringing you to the hospital against your wishes, but..

Even when months pass and you still don’t get that same energy you used to back is when he understands. It hits him when your suddenly looking at someone else the way you used to look at him and it hits him hard, like a smack to the face.

Oh. He thinks. He was the one you loved.

And that regret hits Jason hard, especially when he coughs up flower petals of his own.

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

[wandasaura]

Dove has her girls wrapped around her finger, so what would an ideal Dove day look like?

— DOVE DAY

warning(s) — pure fluff, headcannon format

ꕤ an ideal dove day consists of cuddles, cuddles, and more cuddles. she’s entirely clear about what she expects from her lovers when they finally have a minute to breathe without mission report deadlines or alien invasions. wanda and natasha don’t have any arguments, content to give love however it wants to be received.

ꕤ they wake dove up with kisses all over her face, lounge in bed until they can’t ignore their grumbling bellies any longer, and even then they stay cuddled up close until wanda chooses to be the responsible one and drags them downstairs and into the kitchen for a homemade breakfast of belgian waffles and eggs. dove sits on the counter dipping her finger into the powdered sugar when she thinks wanda won’t notice, and natasha sneaks her mouthfuls of whipped cream when she’s sure that wanda is looking right at them, smirking teasingly at her younger girlfriend who just rolls her eyes affectionately and holds back her scolding because she can’t deny how cute it is to watch her little dove wriggle around in excitement thinking she’s pulled something over on the all-knowing witch.

ꕤ they eat in the living room, which is a treat in and of itself because wanda is strict about keeping mealtime confined to the kitchen, but today is all about doing what dove wants, so they cuddle up under fluffy blankets and watch whatever movie seems most interesting. dove falls asleep everytime without fail, but she is adamant that it isn’t her fault, how is she means to stay away when her head is in natasha’s lap, her hair being twirled and braided, and her legs are thrown across wanda being tickled and rubbed and massaged. it’s clearly not her fault at all, and wanda and natasha are happy to take the blame, because that was their plan all along, not that their innocent little dove was aware.

ꕤ dove wakes up in the same position she fell asleep in, content to know that she hadn’t been left at any point during her nap, and depending on who’s closer, she sinks into their lap, chest to chest and face to face, smiling with a sleepy daze in her eyes.

ꕤ they stay like that for hours, making light conversation, cracking jokes, fighting off tickles when she’s particularly cheeky, until they get up to make lunch, which is always grilled cheese.

ꕤ natasha cuts dove’s sandwich diagonally, much to wanda’s displeasure because she believes in cutting it straight down the middle, and every time she makes a comment about it, it results in dove and nat rolling their beautiful eyes and calling her weird with teasing smiles. they eat in the kitchen, talking about life and upcoming events, throwing out ideas about how they’re going to spend the rest of the day, just reconnecting and making sure they’re all on the same page.

ꕤ after lunch one particular day, dove decided she wanted to go on a walk. the neighborhood they lived in was relatively quiet, and their neighbors were respectful enough to turn a blind eye when all three of them decided to venture out. they were just normal people doing normal things when they had the chance to be out together, so wanda and natasha agreed, although wanda was adamant that even if it was a dove day, she needed to wear some kind of jacket. dove huffed and stomped toward the closet, mumbling about stupid wind and jackets, much to the amusement of her girlfriends. they knew that she would freeze before she willingly wore a coat, but a sick dove wasn’t something they wanted to see, so wanda didn’t pay much attention to the mini tantrum that was more amusing than anything else.

ꕤ they wonder around for hours, getting lost down deadend streets, stopping at a local florist and picking up a bouquet of daffodils and daisies, taking advantage of every hour of sunlight they had left of the day, not knowing when they’d have this extent freedom again. when the cold became unbearable, and lips were becoming blue, they decided to go back home.

ꕤ wanda put the flowers in a vase while natasha made hot chocolate to warm them up. dove watched them fondly, content with their adventure and just having them both home for the entire day. it didn’t happen as often as she would’ve liked, but she would never blame them for that. she understood their commitments, but that didn’t stop her from wanting more of this.

ꕤ after hot chocolate was made, dinner was eaten, and pajamas were thrown onto warm bodies, they carried out the same routine as they did that morning, watching movies, cuddling on the couch, laughing and joking and just enjoying each others company until eyes were dry and limbs were heavy. so, they climbed the stairs toward their shared bedroom, they went through night routines, and then fell into bed in the same order they’d always kept. dove fell asleep first, then wanda, and natasha watches them both breathe until eventually she lets herself drive off too, already anticipating the next chance they’d have to do this.

[eggonog]

The Boy in the Forest (Yandere OC x gn!reader)

My second post!

This is once again un-edited.

~~~~~~~

You were walking down a dirt path, through a valley towards a forest. The wind blew your hair, and you tightened the grip on your basket. You had left the village about 30 minutes earlier but still had aways to go.

You were a simple person, nothing miraculous about you. You lived a plain life in your village. Most would be unsatisfied with a life such as yours, but you relish every moment of it. Every autumn you enjoy the colors of the trees, the lovely pink-reds, oranges, and yellows. You enjoyed the snow, the way it crunched under your feet. The way the sun felt on your face. The pollen ticketing your nose, you savored it all.

You dressed plainly, just a typical straw hat and blue or red clothes. White gloves and brown boots. Normal attire, nothing special.

You have very few you could call friends, you are friendly with everyone, and everyone's friendly with you, but you consider them to be more like acquaintances.

You enjoy the people of your village; the chit-chat of friends and hearing their drunken dreams of a bigger life, their deepest wants and goals. But people get exhausting- and you'd much rather stay near your house, enjoying the nature there.

Recently, as you walk past the woods, a handsome young man would greet you. It's rather adorable- he will bring you flowers. Lillys, daffodils, lavender, anything really. He brings you dandelions with long stems and tires them around your wrist.

"Good luck charm"

He says. You really do think he's cute. He would also bring you pinecones and rocks- and you think of him as a bird or cat, bringing you little treasures. You have a small box in your room you keep them in. You enjoy seeing the blue-haired boy. And you found yourself going on walks more and more frequently, just to see him.

You wonder where he lives. His hair is often dirty and unkempt. Not greasy, but dirty. As if he had been rolling in dust and moss. Under the dirt, his hair was a remarkable blue. It was long and often fell over his light green eyes.

He wore a white poet shirt and tan pants. He wore the sleeves pushed up to just above his elbows. He had bandages wrapped around his feet, but no shoes. The bandages went up his legs, and he had more bound over his forearms. You wondered if they covered his whole body or just his limbs. Why did he have bandages anyway?

Your guess was that he injured himself running through the woods. He seemed strong, and fast. He was tall, you didn't know exactly how tall- he was always slightly hunched over. Not overly so, but noticeably. Although he seemed shy, he gave you flowers, which was bold.

He would perk up when you talked to him, and his body language was sincere and expressive. Everything about him was charming, and you knew if he didn't come back you would miss him.

He was the only person you would truly miss.

A dirty boy from the forest who gave you pinecones- your closest companion.

It was sad.

Wasn't it?

Someone else might think so, but you didn't. You liked it- found peace in it. He reminded you of the nature you liked so much.

Today you brought him some food- You decided the two of you will have a picnic. You didn't know much about him, he didn't talk much. He was a man of few words. Yet he still found a way to make you blush-

You stop. You're at the edge of the forest, but he isn't here. Thats odd.

"Teo!"

You hear the rustling of leaves and feel something coming. A smile stretched across your face. The blue-haired boy burst out of the trees. He had a smile on his face, and was he breathing heavily. He was slightly flushed.

You called to him and he came running. It gave you an odd feeling. You couldn't tell if it was good or bad, but it was Teo, so you assumed it was. It gave you a rush of adrenaline.

He immediately hurried up to you, grabbing your face gently in his hands. He was taller than you. He looked at your hair and ran a strand between his thumb and pointer finger. He smiled a toothy smile.

"Pretty."

"Thank you, Teo."

He looked at your face for a beat, and then reached around into his bag, digging around until he pulled out a twig, it was twisted around into a ring- somehow solid. It was the right size for you, and it had a small slit in it.

He put it on your finger and he reached into his bag again. He pulled out a buttercup and slid the stem into the slit. It stuck there perfectly, the small yellow flower was delightful.

You couldn't help but smile.

"I love it."

It was simple and sweet. He was considerate and kind, and you loved it.

"I'll never take it off."

He looked at you, and while his expression wasn't obvious, his ears were red. He was so easy to read- for you, at least.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He hugged you, and you were a little worried about the dirt, but it was worth it.

You softly pushed him away, keeping a hand on his chest. He looked at you curiously.

You plucked a few leaves and branches out of his hair. He was always sullied with the forest and smelt like it too, like trees and earth- like wet rocks and flowers.

"I actually have something for you this time."

His eyes twinkled, and he looked at your basket.

You pulled out the blanket and held it in your gloved hands.

"Do you know of a clearing we could sit in?"

He nodded softly and grabbed your hand, leading you into the forest. After a short walk, maybe a few minutes, there was a large bed of grass surrounded by trees. He stopped and looked at you, his eyes now half-lidded, he was always energetic when he first met up with you, but his sleepy demeanor fell over him quickly.

You un-folded the blanket you were keeping under your arm and spread it out over the grass. You checked your pocket watch- it was just about noon.

You set the basket next to you and sat down, patting the spot by your side. He slumped onto the ground beside you, leaning on your shoulder as you slowly brought each item out of your basket. A jar of jam, some small pieces of bread, sandwiches, a few pieces of fruit, and some fresh orange juice you had squeezed out this morning.

He shifted beside you a little, and sat with his legs cris-cross. He waited until you had put some food in front of him to start eating. He ate the sandwich first, taking a few bites. He drank some of the juice and had a orange.

His manners were really good, and he wiped his face with a napkin when he was done. But he quickly discareded manners and laid his head in your lap, looking up at you.

"Tastes good."

You smiled at him. He had been making you do that a lot. You were finished your meal as well. You were just sitting and enjoying the small sounds of the woods.

"I like the birds. What about you?"

"Hmm..." He looked at you from your lap. "Favorite bird?"

"I like gray jays, they're cute."

He slowly sat up, and held out his hand. He whistled a slow tune, and a gray jay flew over to land on his open palm.

You stared at it, amazed. He really was from the forest.

He put his two hands togeather and looked at it, glancing at you.

"Hold?" He held the small bird out to you, and it looked at you with its small black eyes.

"I- ...yes." You extended your pointer finger, on the hand with the ring. The small bird quickly hopped onto your finger, and you couldn't take your eyes off it. You were so entranced.

You spared Teo a look. He had such a caring gaze- as if he was looking at something beloved. A god or deity, someone he cared greatly for.

You blushed at the thought.

The golden light that passed through the trees fell over Teo's face. He fell back into your lap and you had to quickly move your hand so he didn't hit the bird. The startled creature fluttered into the air, staying there before landing on the upright handle of the picnic basket.

Your hand fell into your lap, or more accurately, onto Teo's face. He blinked and stared at you.

You quickly picked up your hand, embarassed. You made eye contact a moment before your hand rested in his hair, gently stroking it. He closed his eyes and melted at your touch, cuddling into you.

You would miss him if he was gone.

Would he miss you?

That's a stupid question. You were certain he would.

Would anyone else?

Would they even notice... if you were gone?

If you suddenly disappeared...

If you vanished...

Into the forest?

~~~~~~~~

Sorry there's like, no plot. Please comment if you want more of this story!

[foolishlovers]

I saw your offer to give fic recommendations! Do you have any fluff favorites (especially south downs cottage related ones)?

hii yes i love to give fic recs 🥰

[you can request more fic recs here.]

here are some fluffy south downs good omens fics:

Routine by Burrahobbit (G, 700) In their South Downs cottage, Crowley and Aziraphale quickly fall into a routine, as they are wont to do. This particular morning, however, is different.

Taking Some Pictures or Something by his_infinitevariety (G, 2k) On a road trip to the South Downs Crowley gives Aziraphale his phone to take photos of the views. However, Aziraphale doesn't know how the phone works and spends all day accidentally posting to Crowley's Instagram story.

Parsley, Thyme, Sage, Daffodils by MostWeakHamlets (G, 3k) Aziraphale has a cooking show on the internet. It started out with three viewers, but now he's known as the happy grandfather that blew up overnight. Crowley occasionally makes cameos, has dedicated his garden to giving Aziraphale fresh herbs and vegetables, and struggles with living after the apocalypse. _ “Taste this, my dear,” Aziraphale said. He held a spoonful of jam to Crowley’s lips with his free hand cautiously under it, ready to catch any dripping. Crowley leaned forward to wrap his lips around the spoon. Most likely his shyness came from the small tender moments Aziraphale was not afraid of showing the world. It had been the topic of many long conversations after Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand in St. James Park, causing Crowley to freeze and break out in a cold sweat. Being discreet had always been their top priority. For 6,000 years, someone would have surely seen them if they embraced in the middle of London. But now, Aziraphale had assured Crowley, things were different. They no longer needed to hide, but Aziraphale would go as slow as Crowley needed him to. It was almost funny how their roles had switched after the apocalypse.

a city wall and a trampoline by kafkian (T, 4k) In their cottage in the South Downs, when Crowley eventually succeeds in getting Aziraphale to use a laptop, it takes Aziraphale literal hours to get past the default Windows screensavers of picturesque locations because 'oh, look, isn't it lovely, Crowley!' - 5 times Crowley knows he’s in love with Aziraphale + 1 time he knows the reverse.

Love Like Fools by animeangelriku (T, 4k)

One minute, Aziraphale is cataloguing some of his first editions, and the next one, he’s leaning against the bookshelf with one hand because he feels like the breath he doesn’t necessarily need (but is nonetheless used to taking) has just been knocked out of him.

He does not need to hold back his feelings for Crowley anymore. He does not need to hide his feelings for Crowley anymore. They’re on their own side now. Show Me The Sugar by WaitingToBeBroken (T, 4k) When the new "couple" moves in the cottage down the road, it's apparent to everyone what their Arrangement is. Rachel, the owner of the pet shop they had just visited, is not so sure anymore. Who was supposed to be the sugar father again?

Show me where the Nightingale sings by Sabotaged_Words (G, 6k) After settling into their new home in the South Downs there are still things to process for Aziraphale and Crowley before they can start a new chapter of their life. But winter is turning into spring. There is magic abroad in the air. And finally, the nightingale is back. some other fluff favourites:

Eden Nails by AppleSeeds (T, 8k) After learning that his incredibly attractive mysterious new neighbour Crowley runs a nail salon, Aziraphale goes there for a manicure and is thrilled when Crowley offers to do it for him personally.

A sweet world by NohaIjiachi (G, 11k) “Good morning!” the man chirped, with a smile that could light up an entire room. “It is such a beautiful day, today, isn’t it?” Crowley managed to hold back the pained groan he could feel rising from the depths of his throat. Small talk and joyfulness. It was too early for this. Morning people were insufferable. “D’you make coffee?” he asked instead, or maybe grunted. The man hummed. “I certainly can,” he commented lightly, turning around and opening an aquamarine painted cupboard.

a picnic plan for you and me by Anonymous (G, 20k) “It’s angel food cake,” he said. He waited. When Aziraphale did nothing but nod politely: “It’s funny, see, ‘cause-” “No, no, I get it.” Aziraphale nodded again. “Very funny.” “Oh, shut up, it is-” “May I ask what brought this on?” Crowley paused. “Can’t a guy just want to try baking?” (Or, Crowley makes Aziraphale food after the world doesn't end. It has absolutely nothing to do with how much he wants to make Aziraphale smile.) [you can find more fic rec masterposts here.]

[heart-sized]

daffodils — s. snape

★⺌◞ : severus snape x fem! wife reader

cw : fluff.

plot : fluff with no plot, basically.

masterlist // sev masterlist

“y/n, darling?” snape softly calls as he enters his room. he had promised you that he'll be home early that night to make up for all the sex that they had been missing out on just because of his workload. “forgive me, love. dumbledore wouldn't let me leave the meetings today.”

“y/n?”

it scared him. why were you not replying to him? you were one of the― fuck it ― you were the only good thing in his life and he'd rather die than lose you or make you unhappy.

“y/―”

there were you. asleep. and dressed in his cloak. he would not lie, the sight of you dressed in his cloak, made him unbearably hard. if only dumbledore had let him go home!

at least, he could kiss your forehead.

he leaned down to kiss your forehead when you blinked your eyes. “sev?” you mumbled in a hazy tone.

“yes, my love. sleep tight.”

“sleep?” you make a small protest, opening your eyes. “but i am dressed in this cloak just to fuck my husband."

“baby, you look tired,” snape kisses you lightly. “we can do it tomorrow. how about we just cuddle tonight?”

“you must be the first husband in the world to deny sex,” you roll your eyes but smile. “how was your day today?”

“awfully tired,” he responds as he undresses his cloak off and lies down beside you. “i kept on missing you. you should not be allowed to take leaves.”

“aw,” you turn to pinch his cheeks. “was my baby missing me?”

“y/n!”

“i love seeing you blush,” you confess, placing your hand on his chest.

“so do i,” he pecks your nose. “i don't know how i got so lucky with you.”

“we're so corny!” you laugh a little. “we sound like kindergarten kids.”

“baby, i don't know about you but i certainly don't act like one.”

“oh, of course,” you caress his face almost seductively. “yo―”

“―mommy! daddy!”

a small knock interrupts you both and you realize that it's your daughter outside. hurriedly, snape opens the door to see his little angel. “daddy, i couldn't sleep.”

“aw, my sweetheart, come. sleep with mommy and i.”

he lifts her up and places her beside you. “did you have nightmares, tulip?” you ask softly.

“yes, mommy! real bad!”

without a word, snape dutifully hugs her and cradles her in a lap, softly mumbling. you stifle a smile. you can never get tired of seeing him with her. it was so unlike of snape to act and yet he did. probably people with worse parents would be the best parents and he was the clear example of that.

“what? why are you looking at me like that?” he softly asks once tulip is asleep in his lap.

“you're the best, snape, the best. i love you so much! we love you so much.”

his eyes soften. probably these were the words he had always wanted to listen to.

ᝬ ˙.໑ ╱ © unholy-ache — all rights reserved. property of suzu

[minhosimthings]

A La Folie ft. Jay - The Vows

Synopsis: Wounds came and went. All in the circle of life am I right? The greatest warrior among all the kings, Park Jay. For him, seeing blood was like seeing the sky. It was a daily routine which he could not escape. Yes sometimes he had grave injuries, which he wouldn't stop to take care of, with him being a workaholic. But sometimes healers do more than heal physical wounds, and for Jay, you did exactly that.

Pairings: King!Jay × healer!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, mention of bruises, VOWS BITCHES YAYYY

A/N: and with this, Jay's fic is officially done for the French Quotes Series! Now we move onto Jake. Please enjoy the vows everyone!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || The Wedding

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

You had never attended a wedding before Heeseung's wedding with his Princess. She was from the Kingdom of Witchelm...you think. Either way, you couldn't remember much from the wedding, except the fact that the bride looked stunning and Heeseung looked stunned.

And all the dancing of course. You were worried that your toes wouldn't adjust to the fast pace of Jay's spectacular dancing skills, but, being the lovesick man he was, he managed to help you.

And he promised that you'd be the best dancer in all of Vadronia by the time of your own wedding.

Time flies fast and it indeed did race across and suddenly it was your wedding.

Never in a million lifetimes would anyone have thought that a mercenary king would fall for a mere healer. But as you admired your carefully woven dress in the mirror, with Heeseung's wife (who was now your best friend) giggling behind you, you laughed at the thought of Jay's fellow kings losing their bets with each other.

And then suddenly you were on the aisle. Flowers in your hand, flowers in your hair, and tiny painted flowers decorating your shoulder, perfectly merging in with your bruise, Jay thought that this was heaven.

"L/N Y/N of Vadronia," Jay cleared his throat before speaking, looking nervously down at his parchment, your smile being the only thing that could stop his tears from flowing down their barricade.

You could see Heeseung, trying not to stare at his wife, who was behind you holding the ring, and you smiled. Love was truly in the air today.

"I used to think love was poison, a darkening thing, meant to rage all and turn everything to horror." Jay took a shuddering breath, before looking up at you. Her smile, he thought, focus Jay!

"Love, to me was the worst thing in this world, at some point I managed to convince myself that it didn't exist. Hell, I wanted to convince myself that I didn't exist. The pages of my diary were rotten to the darkness. Just ask these idiots standing behind me." He motioned towards the silently crying kings behind him.

"Perhaps that's the thing I want to thank you for today, my love. I don't think I've ever understood what love actually is have I? And then you stepped in like some guardian angel, ready to seize me by the collar of my shirt, shake me into pieces and scream at me about what love truly is."

Had you truly done that to him?

"Maybe I'm exaggerating, you haven't grabbed my collar until the day before yesterday, the colour of the flowers were genuinely not my fault." That elicited a laugh from your lips.

"I would like to thank you for making me see the beauty in the little things in life. In all the daffodils, or carved rubies, or even baking powder to calm a bubbling liquid down."

A love-sick giggle escaped your mouth.

"Thank you for sharing your dreams, and your nightmares with me.Thank you for showing me what life truly means again.Thank you for making me feel wanted, needed and most importantly, loved. Thank you, for teaching me to see love not as it is but as it could be. Because I realise now, more than ever, that love, it isn't something which stays constant, like forged metal. It's an ever moving, ever changing thing, like the waves of the sea, like a lavender in the breeze, or maybe a scar or a bruise which heals as time goes on."

A scar. Your scars or his scars?, you thought. Whichever one it was, you knew Jay meant to talk about some old red string tied to a pinkie.

"You know, there was this thing my mother used to say. To love a person means to love them to absolute insanity."

A la Folie.

"She always told me she would explain the meaning of it to me when I grew up. She never got the chance to, but I hope she knows today, that I understand what her engravings of a la folie means. Would you like to know why?"

He leaned forward, raising a hand up to cup your cheek ever so gently.

"Insanity is a meagre price to pay if it meant I could have you for the rest of eternity, even if I was a madman and you were the figment of my imagination. Then you'd be the best thing I'd have ever imagined."

Insanity.

A common topic among healers. Apparently no one knew how to heal it.

But at this moment, when your lips pressed against Jay's in a bittersweet moment of longing, loss and love, you felt that insanity would truly be a coin to pay for the man in front of you.

Maybe he truly was the actual healer out of both of you.

Love's an insane thing don't you think?

Tags: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @niinjo

[soulreapin]

happy valentine’s day klancers here’s our favorite tragedy getting to be happy for once. xoxo soul

—

Keith wakes up to the sharp, pungent smell of roses in his nose.

That’s not always as alarming as it is right now, sometimes Lance gets flowers from the farmer’s market and sets them in delicate clear vases all over their apartment (Keith will always hate the smell of daffodils), but the farmer’s market hadn’t been in town for a number of weeks.

He sits up in bed, pushing the red flannel comforter down from where it was safely tucked up underneath his chin and looks around wildly. Their comfortable bedroom has a vase of red roses on every surface, even on the vanity tucked in the crook between the wall and the door of their ensuite bathroom.

They look fresh, vibrant and sweet in the low light.

He glances to his side and Lance’s side of the bed is noticeably empty. That should’ve been clue number one that something was up, not the smell of roses, but apparently it hadn’t been long enough since his time in the desert that waking up with his arms wrapped around himself and his knees tucked into the crook of his chin wasn’t considered abnormal yet.

A splay of his palm against the sheets tells him Lance has been up for some time. Something ugly and foreign squeezes itself around his heart, but Keith, under any circumstance, does not give himself time to figure out what it is and slides out of bed, stepping into his red lion slippers and following the apparent trail of red rose petals on their usually pristine wooden floor.

His slippers scuff on the wood as Keith trails down the short hallway into their living room, and if he thought their bedroom was bad, this is catastrophic. Floral arrangements sit large and pretty on their dining table, on their kitchen counters, on the coffee table where instead of fake fruit they set their feet in the middle.

Varying shades of red and pink and white flourish in the home Keith worked so hard to build for him and Lance, the life they hold on to with tight grips and locked elbows decorated with pretty scalloped petals and white lace keeping them all standing at attention.

On the center of their dining room table, where there are pencil marks thoroughly worn into the wood from hours doing homework for Lance to get his masters, are several fake candles set up around a red envelope, and from this distance Keith can’t tell if it’s sealed with wax or not, but he’d bet his braid that it was.

As Keith is walking over to the envelope, he panics. “What did I forget? Our anniversary isn’t until October, his birthday is in July, it’s February—oh. It’s February.”

He reaches the letter at the same time he has the realization. Today is February 14th, it’s Valentine’s Day, and Keith did not forget. There are reservations in his name tonight for their favorite mexican restaurant, the one Lance picked himself because it tasted the most like home, and he’s got a heart-shaped box of chocolates and a hand-written card tucked into the back of their closet because he knows Lance doesn’t look back there.

So he picks up the envelope with steady fingers, pops open the definite wax seal and before he can judge it, presses a kiss to the cold wax with the reminder that Lance’s careful hands had poured and pressed it into a heart shape, and slides a thin, white paper card out of the envelope.

In Lance’s scraggly, all-caps looking handwriting, he’s written, ‘good morning, keithy cat! happy valentines day. i know you freaked this morning when you saw all the flowers. mad i missed it. anyways i didn’t have to go into work like you were thinking. you’re going looking for me but because im SO GRACIOUS and an AMAZING HUSBAND ill give you your first one free, go down to nightsky florals. love, loverboy,’

Despite it all, it brings a small smile to Keith’s face. He folds the note delicately and tucks it back into the envelope, deciding to leave the battery-powered candles running.

“Damn you, Lance,” Keith mutters, but trudges back to their room and changes into simple, loose-fitting Lucky jeans and a red sweater. ‘Tis the season, and all that.

–

A small bell rings over Keith’s head as he pushes the door open to Night Sky florals. Shiro must have installed that after he went off to college, but the rest of the shop was still the same. Wooden bins of flowers sit on racks going all the way up to the ceiling, there are displays in the center with red roses and assorted bouquets on them, and greenery climbs up the sides of the racks and up the counter near the back of the room.

It’s light and homey. Keith spent a lot of time in Night Sky florals, sitting behind the counter and doing his AP Lit homework, staring daggers at To Kill a Mockingbird and scribbling down Quizlet-approved bullshit answers.

Now, Shiro is sitting on a stool behind the counter, assembling a small array of red roses, baby’s breath, and camelias. He looks up and sees Keith standing in the doorway, “Hey, kid!”

“Hi, Shiro,” Keith grumbles, smiling despite himself, skirting around the center displays to get to the counter, “How’ve you been?”

“You were at my house for dinner a week ago.” Shiro stands up and comes out from behind the counter to wrap Keith in a hug that basically breaks every rib in his body and eliminates a need for a chiropractor. “I think you know how I’ve been.”

Keith shrugs in his hold and hugs him back, “I don’t know, it might have changed in the week I haven’t seen you. Forgive me for caring about my brother.”

After a few more bone-crushing seconds, Keith is let go and allowed to expand his lungs to full capacity again. Shiro tosses over his shoulder as he turns away, “Denied. Back to the desert with you, creature.”

“You’re so odd,” Keith shakes his head and picks at a piece of stray fuzz on the sleeve of his sweater, “I was here for something. Lance sent me here. Is there something here for me?”

Shiro’s face lights up and he disappears off into the back. “He stopped by this morning! This is so cute, Keith I almost kind of hate it, I’m so glad you guys are happy together—aha! Found you, fucker.”

“I’m almost a little nervous about it,” he admits, “Like, he’s doing this for me, what if dinner and chocolates and a card isn’t enough?”

Something clatters to the ground in the back and Shiro reappears holding another red envelope with a pressed wax seal and a small, thin piece of paper. “Keith, I promise you, if you got him a pair of socks and a bag of cherry cordial Hershey’s Kisses, he’d love you forever.”

He accepts the letter and the small piece of paper, his face screwed up, “Those are absolutely disgusting, they taste like cough syrup. The peppermint ones are so much better.”

“Cough syrup aside,” Shiro comments, shaking his head like he can’t believe Keith has a correct opinion, “You know what I meant. He’s happy just having you.”

Keith sighs, a little dejectedly, and slides his thumbnail beneath the wax circle.

It reads, ‘congrats, keefers, you made it! this is the place we met for the first time. i bet you remember it. i came in to get funeral flowers for hunks robot and you insulted me various times all while giving me the most beautiful flowers i had ever seen. i thought you were beautiful too with your shitty ponytail and your silly looking apron. you had a pansy tucked into the pocket i think. ‘

“It was a rose.” Keith says, out loud, without even meaning to.

Shiro glances up from his bouquet in progress, “Congratulations?”

“No, um,” Suddenly embarrassed, Keith scratches the back of his neck, “The day I met Lance here, I had a red rose tucked into my apron. He said it was a pansy.”

“Are you blushing?” Shiro exclaims.

“Shut up, Shiro, go back to your flowers. In the time you’ve spent insulting me three more people have either died or gotten engaged and you are holding them back from their floral arrangements,” Keith sasses, looking back down at the letter.

‘whatever it was i thought it was really cute. im glad we ran into each other that day. rip hunk but if his robot hadn’t died i wouldnt have married this beefcake so who really won here (me its me i won). anyways. the little white paper shiro should’ve handed you will give you a little clue as to where to go next. love, lancelot.’

He slides the letter back into the envelope and flips the small paper over. On it are two dragons intertwined, one small and red and the other bigger, black, and missing its right wing. Keith knows this image; this image sits squarely over his spine.

“So, where are you off to next?” Shiro asks casually.

Keith glances up at Shiro, missing his right arm, and offers a small smile. “Ocean Waves Tattoo Parlor.”

“That’s right across the street from us–oh, that’s where Lance used to work when you two met, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I’d better be off now. I’ll see you for dinner next Wednesday?” Keith starts to move around the store, picking flowers out of bins and collecting them in his right hand.

“Same day, same time,” Shiro confirms, “Adam’s making pasta salad, I think–what are you doing?”

Keith has gathered a full bundle of red roses, pink carnations, greenery, and forget-me-nots. He drops a handful of cash onto the counter that seems like a vague approximation of what the total should be and waves goodbye, hurrying out of the shop before Shiro can throw his money back at him or realize Keith had probably underpaid.

—

After his brief stop at Night Sky Florals, Keith went to two more places. Ocean Wave Tattoo Parlor, where Lance used to work and coincidentally where he got his back piece done in Lance’s chair, the ice cream shop where they went on their first date to receive another letter from Romelle, and even at the library on the other side of town where Keith had dedicated hours of his life to helping Lance review for a final (that he passed with flying colors).

He ends up at Fortune Coffee House, their favorite spot to grab a drink or a muffin and just eat breakfast together before they go their separate ways. Keith had stopped at home first and dug the card and chocolates out from the back of the closet, since he had a feeling he’d be seeing Lance here, as this was supposedly the last location.

The door creaks closed behind Keith as he steps into the warm air of the coffee shop, a floor-to-ceiling shelving unit cordoning off the counter from the rest of the shop. Fortune Coffee House is decorated in warm shades of brown and cream, reminiscent of Keith’s college days.

“Welcome in–Keith Akira Kogane, where have you fucking been?” Pidge yells from behind the counter, pushing her glasses up her nose.

Right. Pidge Holt, Keith and Lance’s oldest shared friend, had ended up with a job at Fortune Coffee House, and Keith had been neglecting going out for a beer with her, Hunk, and Lance. Copyediting kept him busy, what can he say?

He sighs and walks up to the counter, flowers, card, and chocolate all balancing very precariously in the crook of one arm. “Hi, Pidge.”

“Don’t hi, Pidge me, you dirty fucker. I missed you!” If she could, Keith would bet every dime he had that she’d throw her pen at him. “Your hair is longer.”

Automatically, his hand shoots up to fidget with the end of his braid. She’s right, it has gotten a little longer, the tail now dangling over his heart instead of at his collar. “I guess it is. What’s new with you?”

“I got into AST.” She says nonchalantly, looking up at Keith with a devious grin.

“That’s great—holy shit, that’s great!”

AST, or Altea State Tech, was the best college in the entire area if you wanted to work on rockets one day, which Pidge did. Her grin is so bright, it blinds him a little, but he leans over the bar and wraps his free arm around her shoulders in an awkward hug.

“I know, isn’t it?” She gushes. “I start in September in the astronautical engineering program, the one Matt did, it’s going to be so, so great!”

“You’ve gotta tell me everything once you start,” Keith says when he pulls back, shifting all of his items between arms, “Has Lance stopped in today?”

“Basically used an entire giftcard stress-drinking iced green teas. He’s been here since eleven, so not very long.” Pidge snorts and picks up her mug with some silly science joke on it, taking a sip of whatever she’s concocted now. “I think he might’ve worn a hole in the floor. Same table as usual.”

“Oh, great,” an exhale rushes out of Keith’s chest, “Can I get a—”

“No, shut up. On the house.” Pidge points at an admittedly very large sign that says, Coming in with a special someone? Your first drink is on us!

“Well, I tried. Seeya, Pidgie. Have fun at AST.” Before Keith leaves, he drops a five dollar bill into the tip jar and slides between tables to get to the second, library-like room.

Fortune Coffee House had two spaces, the actual coffee bar and a second room with tables, an assortment of armchairs, and couches for studying, worship, or just to chat quietly. Keith slips through the doorframe and sees Lance sitting in his usual armchair, tucked into the alcove created by two windows. An empty plastic cup sits on the low table behind them.

Lance looks just as beautiful as the day Keith met him. His hair is longer and curlier, better taken care of, and freckles make their homes loud and proud across his face, but the Pacific ocean that sloshes around his pupils never changed, nor did the tilt of his smile or the slight scrunch of his nose when he laughed. Keith has kissed that scrunch on several occasions, to no fault of his own.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, blue,” Keith says as he approaches Lance, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “Got these for you.”

“Keithalicous, Keith, god, you scared me!” Lance exclaims but accepts both the kiss and the gifts he’s handed, running a gentle finger over the rose petals. “Did you get here okay?”

Keith thinks back on all the running around he’s done today and can’t tamp down the laugh. “As okay as I could’ve been. I liked the little game you sent me on. It was nice to go back to St. Taffy’s. Romelle still works there, yaknow?”

“I was just there this morning, goober.” Lance reminds him gently, setting the flowers and the chocolate on the table, working on opening the card. “I’m glad you liked it. I wasn’t sure.”

He remembers what’s written in the card. It was written late at night when Keith couldn’t sleep and instead spent precious minutes watching Lance’s sleeping face shift. “Right, yeah, ‘course, ah, I knew that.”

“Wow, did your code just stop working?” Lance jokes as he finally gets the sealed white envelope open (it was spit-sealed, Keith didn’t fuck with wax,) and pulls out the card.

Keith had found it months ago. It was a deep green and pictured a featureless white deer, standing small amongst towering trees. He found it pretty, and by the way Lance traced a reverent finger over the spiny branches of the trees, he did too.

The card itself wasn't a problem. It was what was written inside the card, or more rather, how much was written inside the card. Keith had used every available inch of space from the top edge of the right side to where the small inscription was on the left.

While Lance reads, Keith pulls at a loose thread in his sweater. It pools in his hand by the time Lance glances up at Keith and slowly folds the card shut. His crystal-clear eyes are glassy and wet with tears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Shut up,” Lance cuts in, “Shut all the way up. You’re such a gifted fucking writer, oh my god. That was beautiful. I love you too, Keithers.”

His hammering chest eases up and is replaced with birdsong and unbridled joy. “I’m glad. Did you…have a favorite part?”

Lance pauses, “Hm. I think it might’ve been ‘The stars could love me and the moon could cry for me, but I’d still choose you. Every time.’ Or ‘You are my north star over the ocean guiding me home and there is nowhere I would rather tilt my chin than up to your light.’ I told you, Keith, you’re a brilliant fucking writer.”

Keith doesn’t respond, but he does reach across and link Lance’s hand up with his. Lance tightens his grip, the gold metal of his rings digging into Keith’s fingers, and pulls Keith forward into a kiss that he wasn’t entirely sure was coffee shop appropriate.

“Can you cut that shit out? People read the Bible in here.” Pidge calls from the doorway.

“Sorry, Pidgie,” Lance says sheepishly, pulling away from Keith, “Thanks for the coffee.”

His mouth tastes like Lance’s strawberry Carmex and green tea. Keith accepts the hot strawberry mocha that’s handed to him and takes a sip, but he’s watching Lance like he’s the only star in the sky.

To Keith, he might as well be. There wasn’t room for much else in Keith’s night sky, anyways.

[lfghughes]

I recently found this song called Daffodil by The Future X and there’s a lyric that says “oh you look pretty as hell, wanna drown in your sundress. Let’s go get ourselves undressed” and I just know you could work wonders with it for Jack or Trevor. There’s no doubt that they’re the kind of guys that love seeing a girl in a sundress

a/n: it took me a hot minute to get to this one but its because i was so excited about writing it and wanted it to be perfect for you

warning: 18++

It wasn’t often that you found reasons to wear a sundress but Jacks family barbecue was the perfect time for just that. The two of you had flown in for the week and had spent most of it with family doing different things. Today everyone had decided that just doing an outside lunch would be perfect for the whole family including extended family and friends. When you had gotten dressed, Jack had already been outside with his family setting up.

But the second you walked outside it’s like he couldn’t peel his eyes off you. “Jack, give me a hand.” Quinn asked, tapping his brother on the chest to get his attention. Jack shook his head almost like he was shaking thoughts out of it before he went to help. In the meantime you finished helping Ellen get some things ready. It didn’t take long for family and friends to start streaming in but even in the midst of all these distractions you noticed that Jack continuously kept an eye on you.

You were in the middle of talking to some of his family members when you felt a hand go to your waist and when you turned your head slightly you caught Jacks features. “Hey beautiful.” He told you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Want some lemonade?” He asked and you nodded your head thinking he was going to grab you some real quick and come back. Instead he tilted his head back towards the house. “Can you actually help me with it?” Again you nodded your head even though you weren’t sure why he would need help pouring lemonade.

Excusing yourself from the conversation you followed Jack inside and when he closed the sliding glass door he did a quick look around. “What are you doing?” You asked and a small grin grew on his lips. “Making sure people weren’t around when I said this. But we need to go up to our room right now.” His urgency only made you raise an eyebrow at him. “Why?” You asked and he let out a small awkward cough.

“Because I’ve been really turned on since you walked outside because that sundress looks amazing on you and I want to basically drown in you right now. That’s the easiest way for me to put it.” His words only made you turn completely pink as you looked outside. “Your family is all here.” At your words he just shrugged. “No one will come looking for us in the room and we’ll be quick.” You figured nothing would be a better yes than taking his hand and leading him up to your shared bedroom for the week.

Once the door was locked behind you, your fingers went to the strap of your sundress and he quickly shook his head. “Keep it on, I’ll be careful.” Before you could get another word out his lips were on yours and his fingers were bunching up the material of your dress, bringing it up your waist. His lips moved away from you as he turned your body carefully and his hand pushed on your back until you were bent over the bed.

His hands carefully pulled your panties off and he didn’t waste any time on getting himself free before he plunged into you. Soft moans left your lips and you tried your best to contain yourself just in case if someone did walk by the room. You felt him lean over you and his lips go to your ear. “You look pretty as hell in this sundress.” He whispered in your ear and his words caused goosebumps to grow on your skin as he continued his pace. “I want you to cum for me babygirl.” His words alone were enough to excite you but his hand moved around to your front, rubbing you right where he knew would make you wake.

You came on him, feeling your body burst into pure pleasure from him and shortly after you felt Jack reach the same climax, his hot breath still on your neck. “Damn…” He whispered as he took you all in for a second before pulling out. “You are so hot.” He told you as his hands went to your dress, helping you clean up and readjust the dress so when you joined the barbecue no one would know. “I can’t wait to get you undressed later tonight.”

[blueeyedgrlwrites]

WIP Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Hey, look, new banner brought to you by ADHD and needing something shiny and new. *finger guns*

Today we venture back into the world of lay me down, give me something to feel since this one is the current hyperfixation (and StimuWrite is helping me get out all the words). I hope you enjoy.

“So what time does your pumpkin carriage arrive to whisk you away to your Prince Charming, Cinderella?” Alex checks his watch as he clasps it around his wrist. “Precisely at five, which means I need to head out. Tell June I’ll call her later?” “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Alejandro.” Nora grins at him from the other side of the world through his screen. Alex rolls his eyes fondly and shakes his head. “Goodbye.” He ends the call and tucks the phone into the inside pocket of his jacket and plucks his keys, wallet and small bouquet of daffodils off the counter before he’s out the door. When he steps outside his building, his jaw drops slightly at the sleek, black, shiny Rolls Royce parked at the curb, a man in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie standing beside it. The man moves to open the door as Alex takes a step forward, greets him with a “good evening, sir,” as Alex climbs into the backseat, and closes the door as he gets settled in. He's had well-off clients in the past, but this is a whole new level of well-off and Alex is now even more intrigued by the mysterious H. Fox.

Tags and a lil visual surprise beneath the cut.

Tagged by (thank you lovlies): @suseagull04 and @kiwiana-writes

This is an open tag to anyone with words (please tag me if you take it!), and also a gentle tag to: @anincompletelist @anchoredarchangel @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse @cha-melodius @happiness-of-the-pursuit @affectionatelyrs @onthewaytosomewhere @onward--upward @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @rmd-writes @nocoastposts @three-drink-amy @duchessdepolignaca03 @firenati0n @wordsofhoneydew @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @littlemisskittentoes @heybuddy-drabbles @gayrootvegetable @i-am-freyja @indestructibleheart @welcometololaland @itsmaybitheway @iboatedhere @priincebutt @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @indomitable-love @leaves-of-laurelin @lizzie-bennetdarcy @sherryvalli @tintagel-or-cockleshells

[saintship]

could I request a florist!könig x reader?? I don't even know how this would go, but I like the idea of him being absolutely enthralled in plants and bugs as a kid. lil dude would know anything and everything about flowers, because he'd bring back random assortments of wildflowers and foliage back to his grandmother after a day of wandering around the woods and playing pretend, and she'd buy him a big book about flowers one day because she thought it was adorable.

was thinking reader could be a regular, because she likes having fresh bouquets around her workplace/at home/to give as gifts? she knows quite a bit about flowers and their meanings (though, it pales in comparison to what könig knows- i don't think anyone could ever compete), and she's just head over heels for whatever whack ass/gorgeous assortment he comes up with for her.

who knows, maybe our lil köni finally musters up some courage one day and throws in a free bouquet for her? 👀

Ancient draft. Cobwebs. Please forgive me this request is magical

*Some real places are mentioned but the floral shop is fictional ALSO if my German is bad feel free to correct me and I can make the edit, thank you!

Daffodils - König x reader

Salzburg wasn’t the city you were born in, but it might as well have been. You’d found a peace there; the summer rain, snowy winters, and captivating architecture being just a few wonders of the city.

Hotel Altstadt was where you made a living, tucked inside a busy plaza where the young children could never seem to sit still. A dozen or so steps across from the hotel was a small floral and plant nursery.

Königs Blumen un Pflanzengärtnerei, a shop that had grown popular since it opened its doors for travelers and tourists. The shop was beautiful, inside and out, with creeping vines and a wonderful twinkling filling the room each time the door opened. The brass bell responsible was entwined with a long sprig of lavender, which carried its smell to greet newcomers. Shelves of live, flowering plants lined the walls, some of which you couldn’t name, while in the center, a calm fountain bubbled around several ferns and tall lilies. The piece would block the register entirely if it weren’t for the owner’s height—he had to be more than 6’5’’, with generous muscle accompanying his stature and a head of auburn waves that brushed his ears before tapering off. He always wore a black fabric mask with floral detailing. Beautiful, but you always wondered why he did so.

The reason you were lucky enough to familiarize with him was the honeymoon couples of the hotel—you were often tasked with picking up entryway bouquets and treated rose petals for the bedspreads, and protected that position with your life. Today was the day you gathered enough courage to strike up a non-professional conversation with the man you’d been admiring for some time.

A breeze slanted through the alleys and roadways, providing some relief from the warm weather. You made your way across the plaza with your delivery cart as usual, thanking a young girl who held open the shop door for you. You walked inside, glancing into the fountain where coins glittered below the wavering surface.

“Good morning, König.” You sidled up to the counter, offering him a smile.

“Morgen! Here for the roses again?” He replied brightly, leaning down to reach for the package of white and red roses used for romantic suites.

“Yes, thank you..” your heart pounded as you received the first package, not missing how your fingers grazed his hand.

“I’m sure you grow a lot of these, huh?”

You managed to spit it out; a simple invitation to a real conversation.

“Yes..but it is not often I’m bored.” König remarked, handing over another package. “I enjoy the white ones especially.”

You gazed at the flower he’d pointed out, nearly getting distracted before quickly stowing it away and reaching for the next.

“Eternal love, right?”

König looked up, blinking.

“The meaning, I mean. Of-of white roses?”

Oh my god, kill me.

“Oh, yes! I have heard that perspective..though I always thought the classic meaning was most accurate; youthfulness.” He paused, holding onto the third package to study it. “So—young love, then.” He looked up, and you felt as though the earth fell around you. You took the last box, setting it down carefully.

“What other meanings do you know?” It didn’t matter that you knew many already, you just couldn’t drag yourself away from him.

“Quite a few..” he looked off a bit, thinking. “What’s your favorite flower?”

You felt a twinge of warmth at your cheeks. “Daffodils.. daffodils are my favorite. I like adorning flowers too, like baby’s breath and lily of the valley.”

He blinked, pleasant surprise flashing over his gaze. “Are you a florist?”

“I make arrangements for my friends sometimes—so, freelance?”

He laughed a bit. “Keep it down, I need business.”

You smiled in return. “Every good business has a partner, no?”

You don’t know where this banter was coming from, but decided to seize the confidence while it was there.

“I suppose you’re right.” König conceded, then studied you for a moment. “You already know what daffodils represent, don’t you?”

You don’t reply for a moment, seemingly forgetting how to form a sentence, before your phone goes off.

“Sorry..hello?” You turn, holding the phone to your ear. “Right..okay. Be right there.” You click to end the call, grasping your cart. “I’ve got to go. Nice talking to you..”

You steer back into the plaza, letting a deep breath free itself from your chest. Your hammering heart only frustrated you further, shaking your head and getting back to to work.

It was a notable stretch of time before your job drove you back to König's shop; lord knows you weren't going to wander in there on your own volition. The thought of him started to make your heart flip over, and it was close to nauseating. When you did, you saw something near the door that caught your eye. Abandoning your cart, you approached the small display table arranged to the side. You usually had trouble with written German as opposed to spoken, but the label was straightforward. "Blume des Monats". Flower of the month. It was an arrangement nestled in a small ceramic vase, the dominating flower being--the daffodils.

"You inspired me."

König's voice behind you made you turn, nearly spraining your neck from surprise. "I did?"

He was wearing a button down today, the sleeves hiding his hyacinth tattoo.

"You did. The adorning pieces, too. I find yellow and white fit nicely together for a light summer arrangement, both their looks and etymology."

You turn back, confirming the appearance of the baby's breath that framed the yellow flowers. "I agree."

König stepped up so he was standing beside you, looking at the arrangement as well. "I have to tell you, uh.. while I was arranging this, I wasn't imagining it to be displayed."

You look up at him, blinking. "No?"

He seemed to avoid your eyes. "No." he shifted his weight, glancing at the floor. The sight of a relatively intimidating man shifting on his feet was, admittedly, endearing. Still, the warmth in the tips of your ears irritated you to no end.

"I was going to uh..give it to you. Because I thought you'd like it. And then I was going to ask you on a date."

You smile to yourself, looking at your shoes. "I wish you would have."

You felt his eyes on you. "Truly?"

You nod, meeting his eyes. Suddenly, your nervous energy melted ever so slightly into a comfortable sort of understanding.

"Well, uh.." König took the arrangement by the stems, the water dripping as he held it in front of him. You couldn't help but laugh gently at his tenacity.

"Your floors-"

"Could I take you on a date sometime?"

"I--yes, just, oh your shoes.." you take the hand he holds the flowers with, setting them gently back in their place. You can only see his eyes, but they seem to be smiling.

"Wonderful. I'll have another when I pick you up."

"Oh, that's not-"

"With orchids."

You blink, his proximity suddenly clouding your awareness.

"Oh."

His eyes seem to tilt with another smile.

"I think you know their meaning."