#14 days of cupid's arrow

[birinboom]

14 Days of Cupid's Arrow - Day 1: Flowers! Can't go wrong with the classics

Who's most likely to gift the other flowers? What kind of flowers would they be? Just a single kind or a variety of them? Would it be a bouquet, flower crown, perhaps a garland?

Dearest Soshiro,

It’s raining here today. Every drop feels icy against my face. It'll turn to snow soon.

I walked past a florist on my way home. I wonder if it's new or if I just never noticed it before… They had a display of sunflowers in one window, lighting up the grey of the city like a ray of sunshine. I couldn’t help but buy some; you know they’re one of my favorites. 

Do you remember the first time you bought me flowers? You spent so much of your free time getting the apartment I was assigned by Izumo Tech ready for me before I even arrived in Japan. Not needing to go shopping for hand soap and paper towels right after a 16 hour flight was such a blessing. And the flowers you put on the coffee table -much like the flowers I saw today- gave some life and light to a mostly cold and empty apartment. I know we disagree on what flowers to get; I prefer bright colors, while you always want to go the more romantic route with red roses. Mixing the two was a brilliant idea. You always know how to make me feel special.

Ahh, I’m crying again. I really don’t do well with being away from you for so long, I always end up missing you too much. I’m looking forward to talking with you tonight. 

Love,

Em

[yumesei]

14's days of cupid's arrow : Day 1 - Flowers ! Cant go wrong with the classics.

A/N : As always, mostly an unedited first draft because your girl hates re-reading and editing fics when it's not for others. But some of those prompts inspired me so I still wanted to do something ^-^

Soap had been away from weeks, weeks that in the blink of an eyes turned into months.

Sei couldn't tell exactly for how long he has been gone. She didn't count the days, didn't see the point of it except making herself more miserable than she'll ever allow herself to be.

Sei didn't want her life to revolve around someone else. No matter how much she loved them. No matter if the innate need for closeness, the need to feel him invade her every sense, haunted her whenever the constant background noises of soldiers and computer's fans faded into the quiet hum of the night.

That was the kind of thoughts running through her head as she was gathering the multiples files spread out on her desk.

She put away everything, quickly turning off her computer, saying goodbye to the never-ending lignes of code that were starting to feel like they melted her retina.

Tonight was Friday, and this was one of those weeks where luck was on her side and she had her whole weekend off. She could already picture her small flat, away from the buzzing of base. But mostly, her soft mattress, the way it'll shift under her weight as she'll get ready to sleep her exhaustion off.

But when she finally arrived, a point of colors in front of her door caught her eye. Soft pink, purple and green fading into each other and clashing with the stark dark door.

As she approached, she quickly understood what it was : a beautiful hydrangea bouquet waiting for her.

She crouched, fingertips grazing the smooth petals before picking up the small white card hidden between them.

"Always thinking about you, lass"

Obviously it was him, it was always him. He didn't even need to sign it.

She let out a small laugh, the thought of him thinking to send her flowers even while he was at the other side of the world, fighting for his life, warming up her heart more than she'd like to admit. Did he even have the right to do that? Probably not, he probably did it in secret on the few downtime he has while some of his mates teased him about getting soft.

Honestly, she didn't even knew how he knew she was off tonight. But one thing was sure, even away, he was always with her. And even if she didn't want to admit it, she was always with him too.

[silentgravesdontexist]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏: 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬! 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

"Soshiro! Guess what I got for you– wait, are those?"

"I got them for 'ya on the way here."

"...pfft– HAHAHA!"

"Somethin' funny?"

"I got you flowers on the way here too!"

[twilightakiishi]

day 2: best way to a person's heart is through their stomach! ♡ 

"yamato. quit clingin' on me." "just one more!" mwah. ".......yama, please. you're so heavy. go cling on chika." "yeah right. I'd rather not have grill marks on my face." sluuuurp.

burgers for pookiebears. chika's tummy is rumbling! ♡ 

[claysgf]

14 Days of Cupid's Arrow – Day 2: Best way to a person's heart is through their stomach!!

this is a small drabble with my m/o self insert pudding nolastname & my darling boyfriend clay! (plus his adorable son, orel!) it's very wholesome... i hope that you all like this one ♡

"Oh, Pudding! Nice seeing you here- What are you doing at my house?" Clay asked Pudding who was at the front door. Orel, his son, was also beside the girl, smiling mischievously no doubt... It seemed like something was planned for Pudding.

"Well, Mr. Puppington, this little rascal over here told me that you had a surprise for me. Isn't that right Orel?" Orel giggled. "Golly! Yeah, it is. Come on Dad! Tell her! Tell her!"

Clay gave off a small smirk. "Well, I guess I could... But only if she says please. Come on Pudding, what do you say?"

Pudding looked at Clay like he was crazy. Lord only knows what he does in his free time- in fact, the Lord was everywhere around this town; according to the children anyway. So, out of spite, she said "Please-" albeit cautiously.

"Orel, you know what to do." Clay winked at his son.

Orel proceeded to grab Pudding's hand and ran towards the kitchen with her in tow.

"Woah! Orel- slow down buddy! We're going to crash into something." Pudding yelled out to Orel as a pre-cautionary warning.

"The only thing that we are going to crash into is some good food!" Orel responded with a smile on his face. "And close your eyes too, Miss Pudding!"

Pudding closed her eyes before she and Orel were in the kitchen. As the both of them arrived, Orel guided her to sit down at the dinner table without letting her fall.

"Orel? Can I open my eyes now? I would appreciate it if I could see the surprise, please, and thank you."

"Of course! Open your eyes!" Orel happily announced.

As Pudding opened her eyes, she couldn't believe what she could see... Were those... Hamburgers??? Her favorite food??? Ever??? They looked so good. She always loved meat ever since she was a young child, but Hamburgers were the food that she always got when she was stressed... It was her comfort food in a way, in case the times were ever tough for her.

Pudding smiled, small tears coming out of her eyes like a faucet starting to run. "You two... Made this? For me?"

Clay walked up behind Pudding and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. "Of course we both did sweetheart... Me and Orel love you very much. You've done many good things for the Puppington family- So... We thought that you may like what we made for you. God bless you."

Orel sat next to Pudding on the table. "You're awesome! Don't ever forget it!"

Pudding looked at the both of them and smiled.

"Yeah. I won't forget this at all. Let's eat, everyone."

[graveyardmuse]

FOURTEEN DAYS OF CUPID’S ARROW DAY ONE: FLOWERS

ship: kenny mccormick/rhiannon moore word count: one hundred rating: teen and up audiences warnings: implied character death (he’s fine now, though) summary: a dialogue-only drabble in which kenny seeks forgiveness after ghosting rhiannon.

“Ken, it’s the middle of the night, what do you even want?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry for waking you up. But I feel really bad about flaking out on our date yesterday, so, I… I, uh, brought you flowers?”

“You pretty much disappeared off of the face of the planet.”

“…yeah, I know. Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. C’mon, get your ass inside. I’m not letting you walk home in the dark— it can wait ‘til morning.”

“You’re the best. You know that, right?”

“Oh, I’m fully aware. Here, lemme put these in water, and then I’ll make some tea.”

[angel-selfshipper]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ 🧷 ┊“𝙃𝙊𝘽𝙄𝙀” ꒱꒱

The bouquet trembled in Doll’s grasp, delicate fingers curling around the stems with a gentleness that betrayed the storm brewing beneath it's skin. Doubt coiled tight, thorned vines wrapping around its chest, making it harder to breathe with each passing second.

The lilies—once pristine, their white petals a symbol of untouched beauty—had withered at the edges, curling inward as decay kissed their rounded tips with a soft brown hue. Four hours. That’s how long Doll had spent agonizing over whether it should give them to him.

They weren’t beautiful. Not in the way of lavish bouquets wrapped in silk ribbons, the kind that lovers gifted one another in grand, sweeping gestures. Not like the vibrant red roses sitting pretty in overpriced florists’ windows, waiting for someone to mistake their cost for meaning.

These lilies were different. Stolen—traded for a handful of polished stones, if you asked Doll—from an abandoned cemetery near its home. Their stems were still damp from the fog that lingered like ghosts, the scent of rain intricately laced with the rich earth they had once called home.

They weren’t enough...

And yet, when the door swung open, Hobie stood there, his sharp, breathtaking gaze landing on the bouquet. In an instant, his entire face lit up—like the sun cresting the horizon, warm and golden, chasing away the cold. His smile sent a sharp ache through Doll’s chest, so deeply lovestruck it could hardly stand it.

“What’s all this, then?��� His voice, to anyone else, might have sounded like lazy amusement, but Doll heard something deeper beneath it—something that made its heart stutter against the sharpness of it's ribs.

Doll ducked its head, that eerily haunting voice slipping from its lips like the first few notes of a music box playing in an abandoned house. “I just… wanted to give you flowers.” A pause. Fingers flexing against the withered stem. “They aren’t—they aren’t perfect. Or even good, really. They’re just…” The words crumbled before they could fully form, the weight of its own self doubt pressing heavy against its tongue.

Hobie scoffed—not cruel, but warm, like he thought the very idea of Doll doubting itself was absurd. He plucked the bouquet from its grasp with a tenderness that made its breath hitch, holding the wilted lilies up to his eyes and looking at them like they were made from the idea of love itself. His expression softened slightly, something so painfully tender settling in his deep brown eyes that it made Doll’s stomach twist.

“Are you completely mad?” he teased, flashing that sharp, wolfish grin, smile bright against the darkness of the hallways dim lighting. “These are beautiful!”

Doll blinked, eyes wide, as if he had just told it the sky was neon green. “But they’re wilted...”

“So?” Hobie arched a brow, as if the very thought of him caring about such a thing was ridiculous. “They ain’t some store bought rubbish. That alone makes ‘em better than any of that overpriced nonsense.”

He brought the bouquet to his nose, inhaling deeply. And then he speaks in a much softer ton, more intimate than before—“They smell like you.”

Doll’s breath caught in it's throat at hus words “Like you“. It always smelled of thick fog and freshly dug earth, like a cemetery after the rain.

Hobie tilted his head, looking down at it like it had just handed him the world. “Can’t believe you thought I’d want some soulless, factory-made nonsense over these.”

Doll’s fingers curled into the intricate lace of its sleeves, gaze flickering down to the bouquet now cradled in Hobie’s hands. He held it like something precious, something treasured, not just a bundle of wilted flowers stolen from an old graveyard.

“You really like them?”

Hobie stepped closer, the scent of old leather and worn cloth mixing with Doll’s much softer one. He reached up, calloused fingers brushing along the curve of its cheek, his touch as reverent as if he were tracing the delicate porcelain of a cherished antique. “Luv” he murmured, thumb ghosting over its skin. “I love them just as much as I love you.”

Something in Doll cracked wide open, the weight of its shame dissolving like mist under the morning sun. Hobie loved them? Hobie loved them!

“T-Thank Y—” The words barely had time to escape before Hobie was pulling it into his arms, laughter rumbling against Doll’s chest.

Maybe, just maybe, Doll would have to bring him flowers more often.

[floevi]

14 Days of Cupid's Arrow – Day 1: Flowers! Can't go wrong with the classics

my first type of event like this! there might be some mistakes or weird wording at times since i'm just writing as everything comes to me! this got away from me a little bit, but i imagine this somewhere between pre-relationship and early stages. they're awkward and sweet, but they're trying! wc: 0.7k

it's a beautiful day summer evening in muse, the land of music, where the last of the sun's rays are shining down on the city where music never sleeps.

outside of fata musica's theater could be seen a line wrapping around the block, which could only mean one thing—the theater troupe was holding a show today.

the only way to describe the happenings backstage was one word: hectic. the guild keeper meia could be seen running around trying to help around everywhere and make sure all last-minute preparations were complete. after passing by suzuka, probably for the fifth time consecutively, the scriptwriter couldn't help but feel bad for the little lady.

as meia continued to rush around anywhere and everywhere, the members of the troupe couldn't help but look towards her busy figure with pity and yet contrary to what they thought the girl was thinking of, only one thought permeated meia's mind at that moment though, "AHHHHHHHH, the flowers!!! i have to get the flowers oh jeez i hope i can get there on time ohmygodtheflowers–"

.....needless to say, it would not be incorrect to say that the poor fata musica guild keeper was stressed out indeed. whether for the wrong reasons or not, who could say?

♡༉‧₊˚. ⋆

walking back to the theater with four bouquets in hand, meia couldn't help but let out a sigh as she let a small smile grace her features.

as she hurries back to the theater, meia begins mumbling to herself, "running around with four bouquets in my hand... oh god, how far i've fallen..." she mumbles out as she kicks away a rock in front of her.

as the view of the theater enters meia's peripheral, she breaks out into a run as she enters the theater and heads to the stage wings to see that the play was just finishing up. seeing the thunderous applause and the standing ovation everyone got as they bowed brought a wide grin to meia's face, seeing the amount of love and adore fata musica gets never fails to amaze her.

"MEIAAAAAAAA!!!!!" she hears before she's kent rushing up to her, and holds her arms open just as he jumps into them.

giggling, she and kent sway side to side for a bit before she parts with him in order to give him, suzuka, and velvet their bouquets.

"congratulations on another show, guys!" she congratulates as she claps and cheers along with kent, following them back to their dressing room.

meia spent most of her time after the show, with the three of them having a few laughs and briefly discussing the next show with velvet before he had retired for the night.

seeing that kent and suzuka had once again fallen asleep, meia shook her head with a silent laugh falling from her lips as she covered both of them with a blanket before slinking off to find the person that's been on her mind since she came back.

taking the last bouquet on the table, meia slowly walks through the halls of the theater. soon, a soft lilting piano melody fills the air that beckons meia to the room it's coming from.

slowly walking up the room, she slows her steps as she gets closer to the open door and leans in. sitting at the piano engrossed in his playing is heath, a sight that's no longer unusual to meia.

"heath?" she starts tentatively as she knocks on the wall next to the door frame, "is it okay if i come in...?"

the melody trails off as the person sitting at the piano looks up with a wide grin and nods. with the bouquet behind her back, meia walks into the room and situates herself on the bench beside heath.

fiddling with the bouquet paper in her hands, meia takes a deep breath before presenting the pink and orange bouquet to heath, "....um, congratulations on the performance heath! i wasn't able to catch all of it, but i know you did your very best today."

looking at meia and the bouquet in her hand, a blush slowly finds its way to heath's cheek as he takes the bouquet from meia's hands and places it on top of the piano lid before he turns towards meia and slowly gathers her up in his arms in a hug.

the night is slow and still as the two figures in the room merge as one; both held tightly in the others' embrace.

[birinboom]

14 Days of Cupid's Arrow - Day 2: Best way to a person's heart is through their stomach!

Which one between you and your fave is a foodie? Only one? Both of you? Who's cooking for who? Will the two of you cook for each other?

Em, my love

The house feels so empty without ya here. Yuzu keeps searchin’ for ya. She sleeps on your spot on the couch, lotsa kneadin’ your blanket before settlin’ in. It’s one of the only times I hear her purr these days. We both want ya home with us.

Are ya makin’ sure to eat well? Ya can’t be too picky, even while workin’ abroad. You’ve done such a good job broadenin' your horizons, so no backslidin’! Don't ya forget to cook for yourself some nights even if I’m not there to handle the knife work.

I miss cookin’ with ya. Listenin’ to ya singin’ along with the radio. Surprisin’ ya with a new Japanese dish and seein’ your cute face scrunch up in delight. Or doubt. Can’t always tell which it is... 

I wanna eat your rice porridge again. I still can’t get it right; it comes out chewy even when usin' the rice cooker. But I’m too much of a fraidy-cat to cook it in the bed like ya do. Damn your viking cookin' methods.

Love ya so much,

Soshiro

[yumesei]

14 Days of Cupid's Arrow : Day 2 - Best way to a person's heart is through their stomach!!

A/N : Remembered this event 30min before the end of the day (hectic day....), so this is a rushed, sorryyyyy. But I still wanted to do something cuz I have thoughts.

"You know, you don't have to do that."

Soap's voice echoed through his mostly empty flat. He had never bothered to furnish it, didn't spend enough time in it to care, even the wall he was leaning on was bare. But now that he was seeing Sei, his Sei, in his kitchen, in his shirt. He was clearly rethinking it.

"I'm aware, but I want to." Sei answered back, not even looking at him, thoroughly devoted to stirring the pot in front of her.

"I can't believe you've been living off military rations craps for months and you're not even letting me spoil when you're finally back." She turned around, just enough to be able to look at him in the eyes. If the pout on her face didn't make her displeasure evident, then the way she waved the wooden spoon between as she spoke certainly did.

Soap grinned, his usual cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Spoil me? Lass, we both know you can't cook for shit". It's not that he didn't appreciate her efforts. God knows he did. It's that after fighting for his life for months, teasing her was way more enticing than her futile attempt at making him eat healthy.

Sei finally fully turned around, walking right into his trap as obvious indignation was written all over her face. But he didn't even notice, no, all he could see was the way the pink ends of her hair were reflecting the light from the windows, the way his shirt looked like a tunic on her smaller frame, or the way that even when she was supposed to be mad at him, her eyes continued to shine as bright as ever.

He took two long strides towards her, closing the gap between them before leaning against the worktop, effectively caging her between his arms, hands cold against the oak. "Let me help you, love", he whispered into her ear, voice low and accent think. She was weak to that, weak to him, and he knew it.

".... Okay", she muttered under her breath, a blush that she'll never admit to, creeping up her cheeks.

Was he a better cook than her ? Hell no, but if one thing was true, it's that a meal cooked from their love will always be better than whatever the army ever offered him.

[silentgravesdontexist]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐: 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡!

"Its burnt."

"And whose fault would that be?"

"Not mine."

"...you love me, right?"

"Not enough to risk a trip to the hospital, princess."

[selfshiplightning]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏: 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬! 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

Who's most likely to gift the other flowers? What kind of flowers would they be? Just a single kind or a variety of them? Would it be a bouquet, flower crown, perhaps a garland?

for logan and kurt -

logan would be the kind of guy to get max roses because he thinks that's what he's supposed to do. he doesn't get them often - usually just for special occasions, like her birthday, valentines day, etc. after the first three bouquets of straight roses, max had to lean up and kiss logan's cheek, gently letting him know that while he appreciated the gesture, max isn't actually the biggest fan of just plain roses - he likes bouquets . from then on, logan went with the flowers he thought looked best - and always, always, max lit up about it.

kurt is the kind of guy that just shows up to max's apartment - sometimes letting himself in via teleportation - whenever he finds some he likes. it's all over the place - sometimes it's because the flowers are very seasonal and he wants to brighten up the place, sometimes it's because they reminded him of max, and sometimes, when he's feeling especially romantic, he shows up with a full bouquet that was assembled based on victorian flower language. those typically include:

chamomile - energy in adversity

fennel - strength

heliotrope - devoted affection

pansy - think of me

among other flowers. kurt is always especially proud of these, and takes time to explain every one to max, who leans on his palm and just grins at kurt like he's the sun.

max doesn't ever get logan flowers - she sees how he looks at them, especially if she ends up drying some of the bouquet to save. it seems like despite their beauty, they just remind him of death - and his own immortality. so he's always stuck to chocolates instead.

but kurt - it's hard to catch kurt before he's got flowers for max, but she manages it sometimes. she likes to give him things that remind her of him - lilacs, irises, with dots of baby's breath, white spray roses, and eucalyptus. it's an unconventional bouquet, for sure - but they're unconventional people. and when kurt sees it, he jumps up to rocket towards max - scoops her up and twirls them both as he gasps at how thoughtful max was. kurt's kind of overdoing it - but max just loves him, and especially loves seeing him happy.

[malice-havik-stain]

14 days of Cupid’s Arrow: Day 1 - Flowers

What flowers would the boys get me?

Stain:

So, there was a reblog game where the OP would assign a bouquet based on what you f/o looked like. This is the one they picked for Stain, and I just love it so much!

The red and white roses, the paper wrapping them together. It fits him!

But knowing him, he’s not a man that gets frivolous things, and he would probably simplify it.

Either way, I love both of them! And I can see him getting either one.

Havik:

Havik would surprise me and bring back some flowers from Chaosrealm. They probably look like some AI shit, with the color patterns, glowing spots, and everything.

But without using AI, here’s something from Earthrealm that looks similar to the flowers he would give me.

Garruk:

I don’t talk about my crush a lot, but if he doesn’t get me a fucking Black Lotus, then does he even love me?! 🤣🤣🤣 (If you play mtg, you’ll get it)

[covetyou]

stupid cupid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected P in V, a few ass slaps, sex toys (butt plug and a dp dildo), anal play, anal sex (with a dildo), double penetration, creampie, vague fluff and emerging feelings (gross), the wings stay ON. word count: 5.2k summary: Joel makes a return to your home, this time with another gift to give. Will you be his Valentine?

A/N: he's here. he's back. baubles joel, big bawl joel, the holiday king himself. and yes, yet again something that probably shouldn't be a series is becoming a loose-fit series because I just can't quit.

I guess you can all be my Valentine's if you'd like and we can smooch and hold hands and stuff, idk (I love you 💛) gorgeous V day divider by @saradika-graphics

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

You didn't expect to scream the moment you entered your bedroom after a long day at work.

Of course, you had wanted to scream all day. First, when you spent the morning fighting with a piece of software that just did not want to work. Then, when you watched your colleagues trickle out of the building well before 5pm, all on their way to romantic dates, while you were stuck in your seat making up for your - and their - lost time this morning. And when you finally stumbled from the building at 8pm, only to sit in traffic for another fucking hour? You may just have let a furious squeal escape your throat as you gripped the steering wheel.

As you finally pulled into your driveway, the only things on your mind were a hot shower and takeout food.

The first part had gone without a hitch. Mostly.

Stripping off your work clothes before you'd even got to the bathroom, you hadn't noticed a single thing different about your home. As you tossed your clothes into the hamper, nothing was amiss. Stepping under the hot stream of water, you felt totally at peace for the first time that day. There was a kind of serenity to be found in your own bathroom that didn't exist anywhere else. No, nothing was unusual at all.

And then you'd loosely wrapped a towel around you, not bothering to dry yourself, and crossed the short distance across the hall to your bedroom. You weren't to know you never closed the door this morning when you left - that was 14 hours ago, afterall. Sunset had long since been and gone, so how were you to see anything, or anyone, where it shouldn't be until you sleepily flicked the light on after closing the door behind you.

So, naturally, when your brain finally registered DANGER - INTRUDER you screamed, almost dropping your towel in the process.

And that's where you still are, locked to the spot, fight or flight truly fucking off from your mind entirely, as you stare straight ahead.

There's a man on your bed. A very familiar man. His hulking figure splayed across it like some kind of fucking renaissance painting, naked as the day he was born, except for the fairy wings strapped to his back with elastic and... is that a bow and arrow? And a pacifier?

"Santa Joel?"

Joel rolls his eyes, pulling the pacifier from his mouth with a pop.

"I ain't Santa. Does this look like Santa to you?" he says, with a sweeping broad gesture down his body. He decidedly does not look like Santa. You're not sure what he looks like, and you're not sure you care when you can't help but notice he's at half mast already. Dragging your eyes from his crotch, you look at his face, somehow sweet and angelic even with his dick out.

"Okay, well... what are you?"

Looking at you in disbelief, he slaps the pacifier down onto the bed before swinging his legs over the edge to sit upright. Only, now you're not so sure it's a pacifier. It looks like a - but why was he sucking on it?

"Ain't it Valentine's Day? I'm Cupid, stupid."

"Cupid Joel?"

"Cupid Joel. It really that difficult to work out?" With a lopsided grin he picks up the bow, miming shooting you, before resting his elbows on his knees. The soft trickle of water down your body feels more and more like you're melting by the second. A practical stranger like Joel shouldn't have been able to do this to you the first time, but the fact he was here again, charming and suave, despite the nudity and criminal activity, told you all you needed to know. You were painfully and woefully attracted to him and you would do just about anything to have a night with him again.

"Well, Cupid Joel, you broke into my house. Again."

He ignores you, lounging back on your bed and spreading his knees wide, picking up the - yep, that's definitely a butt plug - again and sucking it into his mouth. Removing it with a flourish, he looks you up and down, a question in his eyes before looking to his own cock, now much harder than it was a moment ago.

"Different guy, you said that was Santa Joel." You can see him holding back a laugh, and you'd be tempted to wipe the smirk from his face if you weren't rooted to the spot. "Anyway, that guy told me he didn't see any pictures when he was here, guessed you didn't have a Valentine. Figure everyone deserves some lovin' on the big day," he says with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth. "So, here I am. Your very own Cupid, if you'll have me, 'course. Don't gotta stay, I can leave if you want me to."

You didn't want him to leave. He'd broken into your house again, and you were exhausted, but seeing him lie there, naked in your bed with the evidence of his little dress up game strewn around him, stirred things in you. If he was willing to give you some lovin' then who were you to turn that down. You're only human, after all, and it is Valentine's Day.

So, you do the only logical thing in that moment and drop your towel without another thought.

"'Atta girl," Joel chuckles patting the bed beside him. "C'mere, got you a present."

Incredible, if slightly strange, sex with a stranger, and he bought you a present? Suddenly the day isn't feeling quite as shit as it was an hour ago, and damp and naked, you approach your bed. You're close enough to him now that you can smell him again, that soft oaky smell throwing you back to the twinkling lights of Christmas Eve. You didn't know any more about him now than you did that night, really. Though, truth be told, you hadn't tried too hard to find him. You had a good time, and the soft lit fantasy of Santa Joel was something you enjoyed exactly as it was. Unveil the man, and you threatened to ruin that fantasy. But a night with Cupid Joel? That could be a new fantasy altogether.

"S'not Christmas any more, don't remember ever having to sit on Cupid's knee to get a Valentine," you murmur, sitting back on your heels as Joel's large hand slides up your thigh. You watch as it moves from your knee to your hip and back again, fingers gently teasing your sensitive inner thigh on the way down. The only hands that had touched you since Christmas were your own, though you had spent night after night imagining his all over you. You were starting to think you'd fallen asleep at the wheel and this was all some wonderful stress dream.

But then he presses a soft kiss to your knee, the scratch of his facial hair rubbing just enough to let you know this is all very, very real and you'd very much like more of it.

"Ain't gonna make you sit on my knee for it. Might want you to sit on somethin' else though."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Real smooth, Cupid."

And then he's smiling up at you as he leans forward to kiss your thigh, then your belly, pushing you back with one large hand until you're laying beneath him, spread bare and open as he makes his way back down to your thighs.

It's so easy to get lost in it. The soft scratch of the scruff on his chin, rough fingertips moving gently across your thighs, soft lips pressing and sucking delicately on you, catching the last specks of water from your skin with each pass of his mouth. Your eyes drift closed just as his breath ghosts across your mound, another soft kiss soon following, and another, and another.

Until, blissfully, his soft mouth connects with your clit, tongue peaking out to swipe across the sensitive bud. It had been so long since anyone had gone down on you, long before you made the move to Texas last year, you'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Stuttering for a while, you're about to feebly mumble how good it feels, but all thoughts grind to a halt when he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning before softly releasing. You had never had a man moan eating your cunt before, and now here you were, fairly certain angels were real and you'd gone to heaven, taken there by Cupid Joel and his wings.

"You always this late home, or did you have a date that went to shit?" he mumbles around your clit. It's a small sneaky way that he asks, wanting clarification on something he was almost certain of but you had yet to confirm. There were no pictures in your house, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone in the picture.

Shaking your head, you gasp out a response. "Work - work went to shit. Ohh."

"Bad day?"

"Yeah, it - fuck, Joel."

It's then that you take your first opportunity to look down and see him between your legs. His hair looks even fluffier, his hands pushing your thighs open while his fingers pull you apart at the seams. His eyes closed, lashes fanned against his cheek, tongue softly lapping against your center, gusts of his hot breath billowing against your mound. He's beautiful.

And he's still in the fucking fairy wings.

A laugh primes itself, ready to explode out of you, but another firm lick sends you reeling, head hitting the mattress with a thud. Whatever he's doing to you, whatever this fucking day has done to you, you're going to come, and fast.

"Cu-Cupid Joel. Don't fucking stop."

Joel stops mid-lick, earning a frustrated moan from you, eyes widening from where he looks up between your thighs. "Already?" he asks in disbelief, noticing how quickly your legs and cunt have started to twitch.

"Stupid fucking cupid, don't stop, please."

His mouth finds your clit again and he's devouring you, lapping quickly against your cunt as your squirm into him, hips rocking your cunt against his tongue. Another day you'll wonder if it was his tongue or your movement that got you there, but right now all you know is the thick syrupy feeling in your veins as an orgasm quickly rockets through you, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you fist your sheets in your hands. You've muffled him, your thighs clamping around his head as he pushes further forward, tongue buried in your folds until you can't take it any more and you're desperately pulling away from him.

When you release your grip on his head, he gasps, cursing into the plushness of your thighs. Sitting up, he looks down at you, the bedroom light illuminating him from behind, making the wings glow on his back like your very own heavenly creature.

"Wanna see your present now?"

The fog in your head has barely cleared, your ears still fuzzy as you take in his words. Somehow a tongue on your pussy wasn't your Valentine's gift from Cupid?

"Wha - that wasn't it?"

"Nope."

"Is that it," you say, letting a thread of hope feed into your voice while you nod to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs.

"Not exactly, but you can have that too if you want it, darlin'."

You don't know what you expect, but Joel reaches over and picks the butt plug from where he'd discarded it on your bed earlier, and holds it out to you.

"Don't know if you're into it but," he holds the plug out to you, base first. The pink glass looks so delicate in his fingers, and it takes a twist of his hand for you to see it, but the heart shaped base of the plug soon becomes clear to you, brain foggy as it is, and you laugh, the sound bubbling out of your lips as your head tips back, laughing so hard you can feel your tits shake.

"You had that in your mouth."

Joel shrugs. "Better now than after it's been in your ass."

"Why're you so sure it's goin' into my ass?"

Got him, flashes through your mind when you watch his face drop. You don't let him suffer for long.

"I'm fucking with you. You're tellin' me you broke into my house but didn't go through my shit? I got three in the drawer over there."

"Three?!" he says in faux shock, rolling you over onto your front and grabbing at your ass cheeks. He pulls them apart, the cool glass in his hand pushing into your cheek as he tugs you open.

You shriek, swatting behind you as you laugh again. "Joel- what the fuck are you doing!?"

"Checkin' where you keep these three assholes."

"I'm lookin' at one asshole right now."

Now it's his turn to laugh, a deep rich sound that has your toes curling and your pulse sky rocketing, pulling you out of it with a gasp when he slaps a hand down on your ass only to watch it ripple with the impact.

"So, do you want it in?"

"Mhm, I have lube in the bedside table."

A rummage later, you wait, kicking your feet in the air, resting your chin in the cup of your palm. When he turns again, he sees you waving your ass from side to side, ready for him. Slick is coating your pussy, your upper thighs glossy with it too.

"That a present all for me?"

Pulling your cheeks apart again, he kisses each one, lightly nipping on the soft flesh as he does. And then, without much warning, he burries his tongue between your spread legs, licking a thick stripe from your clit to your asshole, groaning with every lick over your tight ring. Fisting the sheets, you press your face into the mattress. If he's going to keep doing this before he even fucks you, you're going to come again and fall asleep before he can get inside you.

"I thought this was a present for me, you're acting mighty excited back there."

"It is. Never said I wouldn't get anythin' outta it though."

A cool trickle of lube drizzles into your crack, quickly spread by Joel's large finger. He teases for a moment, circling your tight hole a little before gently pushing in.

"Fuck."

Moaning in agreement, you almost speak to agree, but then his finger is gently fucking your asshole and all words fail you. Coming just a moment ago did nothing to stop the need you had for this man, the feeling in your core growing tenfold as each moment passed.

"Fuck, Joel, put it in my ass and fuck me already."

The strangled noise from behind you startles you, and you look back for a second to see Joel's eyes pinched together and his head thrown back as his hand grips tightly around the base of his cock, wings falling forward over his shoulders as he desperately tries to relax himself.

"You can't say shit like that to me, darlin'."

"Then stick it in me, stupid."

Fingers slick with lube, he strokes the plug, before sliding the cold tip across your hole.

"Wanted go slow. Wanna watch you take it."

With a soft push, he presses the tip forward, watching as your hole accepts the cold tip with ease. This was always something you loved, even playing with your plugs by yourself when the feeling took you. It had been too long since anyone else had played with your ass, and you can't say you were too mad about Joel being the first to touch you there in so long.

The stretch is soft, and soon the bulb of the head pushes past your tight ring, making Joel hiss behind you as he watches you take it. He fucks you with it once, then twice, before pushing firmly, letting your ass take the entire length of the plug. Twisting it, he sits the heart upright, before leaning forward to kiss it. It's not often you get a man's face buried in your ass so, figuring it's karmic justice for the species, you push back into him, holding back a laugh when a small oomph escapes his lips when your ass collides with his face.

"Gonna tell Santa Joel you did that. No nice list for you."

"Then if I'm already on the naughty list, fuck me already. You promised me lovin'."

Wiggling your ass, you arch your back to expose your pussy to him even more. He hasn't so much as put a finger in you yet, and part of you is glad for it. You want to feel his cock pull you apart as it fills you, pushing past the ridge of the plug lodged in your ass. You want to feel stretched and full and ruined.

Joel seems to be on the same page, shuffling forward, dick in hand, sliding the tip through your slick folds. Catching on your entrance, he runs the tip of his dick across the plug where it's nestled inside you before pushing down, slipping into your empty hole.

And fuck is it tight. If it feels this good for you, the half-filled and stretched wide feeling of his cock in one hole and the plug in the other, you wonder how it must feel on his dick. You're wet, dripping really, soaking his cock and letting him in with ease, but there's the solid lump of the plug dragging along the top side of his cock as he pushes in.

Deciding he's going too fucking slow, too tentative when all you want is to be filled, you push back. In one swift rock you take him to the root, gasping and hitting the bed with your fists as he bottoms out, his own fingers digging into you flesh harshly.

"Sh-fuck, fuck."

Stopping, you almost pull away, worried you might have hurt him, but his grip stops you. Before you can turn or question him, he's pulling back, slamming in hard again, groaning when you take him completely.

If Santa Joel destroyed you, Cupid Joel is going to wreck you entirely. And you welcome it.

He's fucking you steadily in no time, relishing in the sound of your moans getting higher and higher in pitch with each pound.

Your knees buckle first, planting you face first in your sheets. Joel tries to pull you up, but his own knees are slipping, dragged down by the grip of your cunt on his cock. Giving in, he crowds over you, pumping deep into you despite the tangle of limbs you've become in the last few seconds. Somewhere in the scuffle you've kicked the bow and arrow, listening as they clatter to the floor just as tangled as the two of you are.

He's warm, and sweaty, and heavy above you, holding just enough of his weight on his elbows to let you breathe. Making a few more shallow thrusts, he suddenly stills, nose breathing deep into your hair.

"Shit. Can't come yet. I got one more surprise for you," he pants into your ear, offering you a soft kiss to your shoulder before his weight shifts.

You want to grab him and hold him to you, beg him to come in you already, but he has other ideas and he's pulling out before you can grab him. "Ugh."

"Gimme a sec," he grunts from behind you. "Can't - hmfph - get it over - god damn it - my balls. There. Got it. Snug but, damn, look at that."

Looking behind you, you watch as he sways from side to side, looking down where his cock bobs between his legs. He's mesmerized, and soon so are you.

He's strapped another cock just below his own, the tapered black dildo just shorter than he is. It sits flush to his full balls, anchored to them by a thick ring, another wrapped around his length. Even with the sounds of his struggle, you're amazed he got it on so quickly.

"Don't have to take both but," and he shrugs - fucking shrugs all coy and uncertain as if he hasn't reached into the depths of your brain and pulled out your most desperate fantasy of taking two cocks at once.

"Didn't wanna spook you, but given you like gettin' your asshole played with," he says with a press to the plug still sat in your ass. "Worth finding out if you're into ass fuckin' too."

You were. Fuck yes, you were. You had your own collection of toys and plugs for a reason, but it had been a criminally long time since anyone had really fucked you there. Other than Joel, it had been a criminally long time since anyone had fucked you anywhere.

"If I say yes, what else are you gonna pull out from back there? You got a bag of tricks around here somewhere."

Joel gives you a toothy grin, stroking his hand over his slicked cock before sliding two fingers straight into you. "Tool bag is downstairs, but ain't got anythin' in there I'd like to put in here darlin', don't worry."

Fingers slipping slick and wet inside you, pressing firmly upward with help of the plug still lodged in your ass, you're rendered speechless again. Reaching out for him you hold his hand in place, fucking yourself on his fingers for a moment before reaching further toward him.

Joel gasps when your hand gently cups around his balls, the thick rings of the toy strapped around them making them seem even fuller with the press of the dildo into them. You roll reach one beneath your fingers, catching the dark look in his eyes.

"You like 'em, huh? Know you liked havin' 'em in here."

"Fuck. Thought about it so much since. Dreamed of you coming back to fuck me with them again."

"Tsk, ain't disappointing you, am I?"

"Joel, you have two cocks and you're threatening me with a good time. You couldn't disappoint me right now even if you tried. And you broke into my house. Again. Now, if you don't fuck my ass with either of the cocks you have there soon I'm going to do it myself," you say, fingers stilling on his balls, before you think again and add, "Please."

"Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart. C'mon now, lemme take this out. Can put it back in this needy hole after. That's it."

It's surreal, looking up at him as he gently tugs the plug out of your ass, offering you sweet murmurs of encouragement. You know nothing about him, save for his first name and penchant for dress up games. And yet, the desire you have for him is steadily creeping upward as time ticks on. Truthfully, you didn't even really remember what he looked like when you thought about him, fingers toying with your clit as you came to memories of Christmas eve. Low light and mind melting orgasms will do that to you. All you knew was his voice and the soft filthy way he fucked you. Now, getting a proper look at him without the shield of twinkling lights and that red jacket, you can truly appreciate him. He's fit, though you suspect he's never stepped foot in a gym a day in his life. He's soft too, in the way that strong sturdy things are soft. You want nothing more than to pull him into you, to press his softness against your own as he ruts into your holes, but that's decidedly not what this is. Whatever this is, between the mild crime and fucking, it isn't that sort of soft sweet thing.

You don't know how he's going to do it, which cock is going to take which hole, but you decide you don't care when he's leaning over you to press a soft kiss to your lips. When your legs wrap around him of their own accord it's all but decided, and he takes his cock in hand - his real one - and lines up with your dripping slit, pushing in slightly before fumbling below for the other. It takes a moment - the lubed up dildo slipping from his grasp as he huffs and tries, but fails, to slot it against you. Briefly tangling your fingers with his, you take over, positioning the toy at your ass, feeling it slip in a little already as he grinds his hips forward, desperate to be balls deep in you again. With both cocks poised and ready you moan, quivering and clamping your eyes shut at merely the thought of being fucked in both holes at once.

With one more press forward, Joel slides in, the glide of lube easing the dildo into your ass as his cock reclaims its place inside your pussy.

And fuck, you have never been so full, and Joel has never fucked something so damn tight. The space his cock would normally make is taken up by the dildo, fighting for position inside of you as he rocks gently, sliding in and out of you with gradually deeper movements. The deeper he presses, the more desperate your moans become, and you catch the hesitation in his face before he can move.

"Don't you fuckin' dare stop."

This time he doesn't, wordlessly pushing into you and filling both your holes to the brim as sweat trickles down his face. You want to lick it off him, to sink your nails into his back, wings be damned, to lick the salt from his skin and bite down into the the firm flesh at his neck. But the only thing you can do before he's fucking you in earnest is grab hold, careful to avoid snapping the elastic of his wings against his shoulders as he pounds forward. There's no candlelight and rose petals here, just the raw sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts heaving into the air as you pull yourselves into each other.

"Tell me how it feels," you rasp into his ear, watching the flap of wings over his shoulder. "Tell me how it feels fucking me with both of your cocks."

"Oh, shit, it's good. So good, baby. Someone's definitely goin' on the naughty list next Christmas. You likin' this? You likin' being fucked in both holes?"

A frantic nod is all you can manage as he starts hitting a spot in you you didn't know existed, building pressure in your cunt like never before.

"I know. You're just so full, ain't you. Take two dicks so well. Pulling me in so good."

Hoisting your legs over Joel's hips, you grip around him, a loud moan bursting out of your chest as he fucks back down, deeper now at the new angle. This is it. This is how you die, you're sure of it.

"How close - How close are you. I think I'm gonna - fuck - die -AH!"

He stops grunting for a moment to force out a breathless "Am I hurtin'?"

It only takes one look at you for Joel to realize he's not hurting you at all. There you are, fucked all the way to oblivion and back, a chorus of angels screaming in your ears with each snap of his hips. You're going to come again, clit untouched and holes filled, a way you've never managed to before. You don't even know how it's happening, all you know is that suddenly your soul feels like it's being pulled straight from your bones, through the middle of you and out through your cunt and asshole at the hands of Cupid Joel himself. And then you're gushing, mind and pussy totally detached as you come, soaking his cock and your sheets.

"Yeah that's it," he grunts, his weight surrounding you once more as he pushes into your spasming holes over and over, chasing his own release. If it wasn't for the damn tight rings around his cock and balls he would've come already, but your moans in his ear and your fingers gripping his shoulders spur him forward.

"Joel."

"Gonna come. Gonna fuckin' - uh - come in your tight fuckin' pussy."

"Yes, yes, come in me, please, I can't, I'm gonna -"

Joel stiffens, hips stuttering as he gives you a few hard, shallow thrusts, before he explodes inside you, groaning so loud it makes your ears ring and cunt make one last attempt to clench around him. As much as you soaked him, he's just filled your cunt, cum pushing deep inside you with each spurt, locked in place by the fullness of the two cocks inside you. You collapse back, your ears still ringing and your limbs feeling soft and heavy.

This time you're certain black out for a moment.

But when you peel open your eyes, Cupid Joel is above you again, halo'd by the bright yellow light on your bedroom ceiling. His hair is damp, wet even, from sweat, a bead trickling down his neck and glittering in the light. And in his eyes there's concern, a worried pinch in his brow as he searches your face.

"You passed out -"

"- You're still here."

He rolls his eyes. "Way to make a guy feel special, sweetheart," he says with a cocky smile. "Just checkin' on you, but I can get goin' as long as you're okay."

You nod, the movement feeling as slurred as your speech. "You left. Last time. Saw you walkin'. Jus' wonderin'."

"Wait... you saw that? Shit, I thought you were asleep."

"No, wasn't 'sleep."

"You gonna sleep now?"

"No," you murmur with a nod, closing your eyes as you feel the last sweep of his hand down your neck, pulling a sheet over your limp form, just for you to mumble one last thing before the soft darkness takes you. "Balls... next time... please."

"You got it, darlin'."

It's an arduous journey to the bathroom when you wake up in the dead of night, remnants of cum trickling down your legs and thighs sticking together. Quickly cleaning yourself up, you check the house for signs of him, already knowing that he's long gone. You wonder how he left this time, whether he kept the wings on, whether he still had a second cock strapped to his own as he escaped into the darkness. For all you know, your cupid could have flown away on glittered fairy wings.

And then you're crawling back into bed, takeout long forgotten, any hunger you had satisfied in a different way than you expected. Somehow there's comfort in the wet patch you curl yourself around. Cupid Joel is gone from your house, but there are still traces of him here. The cum on the sheets, the ache between your legs and, as you reach to turn the light off and let darkness take you, the butt plug on your bedside table. Between the Christmas decorations stashed in a box in your closet and this plug, you were slowly amassing pieces of a man you didn't really know - gifts from a stranger that made you feel more at home in this place you'd moved to than anything else had managed to in ten months.

Tracing the outline of the heart with your finger, you stretch and snuggle back down into bed, letting exhaustion take hold and when you dream, you dream of flying.

next part

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

[graveyardmuse]

FOURTEEN DAYS OF CUPID’S ARROW DAY TWO: À LA MODE

ship: leo stotch/rhiannon moore word count: three hundred rating: general audiences warnings: n/a summary: rhiannon bakes a pie for one of her closest friends. this is totally a display of uncomplicated platonic affection. (spoiler alert: no, it isn't.)

“You made this for me?” Leo asks, faint pink dusting his cheeks and a smile tugging on his dimples as he looks away and taps his knuckles together— an infuriatingly adorable nervous tic he’s had for as long as Rhi has known him and then some.

She’s glad he’s not looking at her; she doesn’t want to have to come up with an excuse or justification for her own blush.

“Who else is in this room to take it, buttercup? Of course I made it for you.”

Bitterly cold days are always made better with a sweet treat and a friend to share it with, she reckons. And he’s always been a good friend.

That’s it, that’s the only reason she wanted him to come over. Because he’s her friend. Her best friend, even. One of her dearest friends, at the very least.

(It definitely wasn’t to impress him, after all— the pie almost certainly tastes better than it looks, with lumpy, broken latticework and nearly burnt apple filling oozing through the gaps. Not her finest work, not by a long shot.)

“Aw, you’re the sweetest, you know that?”

“Probably not sweeter than the pie— I think I used way too much sugar,” she grumbles. It’s a deflection, and not a very good one, because she can feel the heat creeping up her neck.

She really had no idea how to take a compliment, and whether he realized it or not, Leo was constantly testing her limits in that regard. One of these days, she’d learn to just say thank you.

Not today, though.

Today, she busies herself with cutting him a slice and digging the ice cream out of the freezer, and resolves not to think about it too much.

There’s always tomorrow to get her feelings in order.

[angel-selfshipper]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ 🧷 ┊“𝙃𝙊𝘽𝙄𝙀” ꒱꒱

The fog clung to the damp earth like a ghost’s embrace, curling between moss laden tombstones and the twisted roots of ancient trees. This cemetery, long forsaken by time, lay far from the hum of the city, untouched by the living, save for the whisper of wind and the distant cries of crows. Silence stretched thick as mist, an eerie, haunting beauty that no soul dared disturb—no soul except Doll.

And now, by extension, Hobie Brown.

“You’ve got wicked taste, love,” Hobie mused, voice a lazy drawl as he took in the quiet splendor around him. The abandoned graveyard, all shadowed elegance and forgotten sorrow, suited his Doll perfectly. “A date in a place like this? Proper romantic.”

Doll, already kneeling before a crumbling headstone, placed a delicate porcelain heart in front od the moss covered grave—a quiet offering to the long forgotten soul that rested beneath the earth.

“They don’t get many visitors,” it murmured, two gloved fingers tracing the worn away name as if breathing life into its fading memory. “It’s the very least I can do.”

Hobie crouched beside it, watching with the kind of reverence he reserved only for Doll. Its kindness, unshaken by the eerie and the macabre, never failed to leave him breathless.

Most would find its presence unsettling—the scent of damp earth and fog clinging to its very bones, the way its voice carried the ghostly cadence of a forgotten lullaby. But Hobie? Hobie adored every bit of it.

“They’re lucky to have you lookin’ after ‘em,” he said, leaning in to press a feather light kiss to Doll’s plump cheek before standing, stretching like a cat just roused from slumber. “Now, ‘bout that picnic? You got me all excited the way you keep talkin’ ‘bout it.”

Doll let out a quiet, ethereal laugh, a sound so delicate it made Hobie want to shield it from the world. It took his calloused hand in its gloved one and led him deeper into the cemetery.

They walked in silence until they reached the perfect spot—a hidden clearing where the fog parted just enough to reveal a patch of wild, overgrown grass. A black lace cloth had already been spread over the ground, held in place by smooth river stones. Atop it rested a woven basket, and beside it, a single wilted lily—a silent welcome ment just for them.

Hobie flopped onto the cloth with effortless grace, propping himself up on his elbows as he watched Doll settle beside him with its usual haunting poise. “You’re gonna spoil me rotten, y’know that?”

Doll tilted its head, offering a soft smile. “You deserve nice things, Hobie.”

Hobie huffed out a warm laugh, reaching into the basket to rummage through its contents. “You’re really tryna make me soft huh?”

“You already are,” Doll countered, voice as delicate as the mist curling around them. Its head tilted in that unnerving, doll-like way that never failed to make Hobie’s heart stutter.

Warmth crept up the back of his neck despite himself. He’d never get used to how devastatingly endearing Doll could be. “Don’t go spreadin’ that around, yeah? Got a reputation.”

Doll only smiled, reaching into the basket to arrange the food onto the blanket with meticulous care—dark berries, freshly baked bread, golden squares of cheese, ect, each choice made with the kind of thoughtfulness that made his chest ache.

The scene was something out of a gothic romance book—the two of them draped in fog, wrapped in the hush of the graveyard, time itself bending to hold them still in this fleeting eternity.

They ate in comfortable silence, Hobie occasionally slipping a berry past Doll’s lips just to see the way it flushed embersadly at how his thumb brushed idly against its lower lip.

At some point, he found himself lying back, hands folded behind his head, watching skeletal branches sway against the endless black sky. “You ever wonder what it’d be like? To be one of ‘em?” He nodded toward the worn-down graves. “Just a name no one remembers?”

Doll sat still, gloved fingers tracing idle patterns into the lace cloth. “That’s why I leave them gifts,” it whispered, voice carrying like a breath on the wind. “So they know they’re not fully forgotten.”

Hobie turned his head, dark eyes unbearably soft as they found Doll’s face. “I think you’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met, Doll.”

Doll tilted its head, the motion eliciting a faint, delicate creak. To most, its expression would be unreadable—but Hobie saw the pure adoration in its gaze. “And you are the most beautiful thing to ever step foot in this cemetery.”

A breathless chuckle escaped Hobie, the corners of his mouth quirking up slightly. “Flatterer.”

Doll only leaned closer, its presence intoxicating, its breath ghosting over his skin. The fog thickened around them as if the world itself wished to cocoon them in eerie intimacy.

Hobie reached up, his fingers grazing the rounded corners of Doll’s jaw, his calloused touch a stark contrast to its flawless porcelain skin.

“I mean it,” Doll murmured, its voice like an old music box playing in an abandoned house—haunting, enchanting, eternal.

Hobie’s grin softened into something quieter, something deeper. And there, in the hush of the graveyard, where time stood still, he closed the space between them.

The kiss was slow, unrushed by time—soft yet intense, fleeting yet infinite. Doll tasted like the very fog that curled around them, like something just beyond reach even though it was right there, something eternal.

When they finally parted, Hobie rested his forehead against Doll’s, breath shallow, grin lazy but utterly genuine. “You really know how to set the mood, huh?”

Doll’s laugh rang out, that hauntingly beautiful sound that made his heart clench. It cradled his face in its gloved hands, touch impossibly gentle. “I merely exist in their world. Fate does the rest.”

Hobie chuckled, pulling Doll down beside him as the cemetery’s fog curled around them like a lover’s embrace. “Guess that’s why I love you...”

And in that long since forgotten graveyard, untouched by the living world for centuries, the dead bore witness to something so undeniably alive.