#Nine goes shopping

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/718072610968289280/beatingheart-bride-theheadlessgroom

@beatingheart-bride

When Emily awoke, it was June who first greeted her with a big plate of fish, knowing she would no doubt be hungry when she rose from the waters: As pleased as she was to know their guest was getting her strength back (to say nothing of her surprise to learn that Emily could be out of the water, even if it might only be for a short amount of time), she also didn’t want her overexerting herself, and hoped this midnight walk didn’t exacerbate her injuries.

“Randall is out at the moment,” she explained, as she passed Emily the plate before taking a seat on the stool beside the tub, clasping her hands together as she continued, “He said something about going to the farmer’s market and picking up some flowers to brighten this place up a little more...something about roses?”

She and Wilhelm did not miss the spring in their son’s step when he got up that morning: Although he was disappointed to see that Emily was still asleep when he awoke, it didn’t completely dampen his spirits as he went about his morning routine, dishing himself up some coffee and breakfast with a smile, a smile that didn’t fade as he ate and gazed out the kitchen window, even humming cheerfully as he washed up afterwards. The Pace parents knew he loved and savored his weekends whenever he got them, but they had never seen him so cheery on his time off...

“What do you think?” June had asked her husband, moving to refill her coffee mug as their son headed upstairs to get dressed before he headed into town. At this question, Wilhelm had simply smiled back, saying with a chuckle, “I think our boy’s in love. And judging by his mood today...I think it’s safe to say the feeling is mutual.”

[badjokesbyjeff]

Cat Food

I heard this from my genius nine-year-old grandson. No idea where he got it from, but I had never heard it before.

An old lady is shopping in a supermarket. She comes up to the cashier with six cans of cat food. "I'm sorry," says the cashier, "I can't sell you cat food unless you can prove to me that you own a cat."

"Why?" says the old lady.

"Our manager heard that old people are buying cat food and eating it themselves, and he finds that unacceptable."

"That's ridiculous, I have to make an extra trip?" says the old lady. But sha goes home and gets her cat, brings it back to the store, and they sell her the cat food.

A few days later she comes back to the store and comes up to the cashier with a big box of dog biscuits. 

"I'm sorry, I can't sell you those unless you prove to me that you have a dog."

"Ridiculous, I have to make an extra trip again?" But she goes home and gets her dog, brings it back to the store, and they sell her the dog biscuits.

A few days later the old lady comes back to the store carrying a small box, and approaches the same cashier.

"What's in the box?" the cashier asks.

"Stick your finger in this hole and find out."

"Oh no, you've got a snake or something that will bite me or scratch me in there!"

"No, there's nothing alive in it," says the old lady.

So the cashier sticks a finger in the hole, feels something soft, takes the finger out and says "Ew! That smells like poo!"

"It is poo!" says the old lady. "Now can I buy some toilet paper?"

[sgt-tombstone]

If there is one thing about me, it is that I am a large MacTavish family truther

That man has at least five siblings, twelve aunts and uncles, twenty-seven cousins, and more nieces and nephews than he can reasonably count

Whenever he goes home for leave, he has at least one child hanging off of him at all times

He was an uncle by the time he was nine years old and was an uncle nine times over by the time he enlisted at the age of sixteen

The MacTavish household is consistently louder than a jet engine and Johnny maintains that the majority of his hearing loss comes from his family instead of the demolitions range

His town is 50% MacTavish and every time he goes to the shops, he spends four hours catching up with everyone he meets because they’re all extended relatives

MacTavish family reunions last a week and a half because it’s the only way everyone has time to actually talk to each other

He’s not a yapper at heart but he was forced to be almost as soon as he was born because he spent his entire life surrounded by at least seventeen people from sunrise to sunset

Simon Riley has never been more overwhelmed, nor more doted on, in his entire life

[pasteidolons]

pincushion - jww

pairing: tailor!jeon wonwoo x bookbinder!reader genre: 1960's, romance, angst, fluff, smut (MDNI 18+) warnings: swearing, alcohol, smut (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex), no use of y/n, afab reader, an overabundance of 60's references oops word count: 19.9k summary: when a newly appointed tailor stops into your shop one autumn morning, you're unaware the impact he would have on your life for better or for worse.

1963, Autumn. The small knife in hand cuts through the thin leather with relative ease, stopping at the point you’d marked with a small piece of chalk, you switch to cut the other end of the material. You eye the coffee sitting on the opposite end of your work bench, watching the steam rise from the cup that you’d barely taken a drink from. It’s only nine in the morning and you hadn’t slept well the night before, had there not been any orders to fill you would have slept in a while longer. 

With the leather finally cut into its allotted pieces you go to move to the bound paper you were trying to cover before you hear someone walk in. The chimes above the door at the front of your shop sound off with a soft resonance, the same sound that had echoed the room for years. Footsteps tread carefully into the center of your shop, you can’t eye the stranger from your closed off workshop unless you open the heavy wooden door. 

A quiet “Hello?” rings out, they sound apprehensive and unfamiliar to you. There’s a tinged worry that treads on the lone word, leaving you all the more perplexed as you set down the leather and the semicircular knife onto your workshop table and head out into the main gallery of your shop. 

“Can I help you?” Question falling from your lips as soon as you begin to push open the oak door, finding a taller man looking down at one of the fabric laden books on one of the display tables. 

“Oh,” his attention turns to you from the book, to the doorway you’d entered from and then back to you.  The horn-rimmed glasses adorning his face slipping down the bridge of his nose. “I’m here to pick up an order for Seungcheol Choi.” His slender hand moves from its once stagnant position to push the glasses back up before moving to his right-side front pocket, “I can show you the receipt if you need it—”

“There’s no need,” you shake your head and raise your hand. Seungcheol had been a longtime customer of your family’s shop, you assume it’s mostly because of a mutual acquaintance with the Hong clan, but you would never be the one to edge into that conversation unprovoked. “I’ll go and grab your order,” a short smile and you’re turning on your heels and striding into your storeroom/workshop once more. 

When you walk back out a few moments later, the books wrapped in brown paper to protect their covers, the stranger is once again looking down at the assortment of books atop your display tables. 

“So,” you begin as you hold out the bound books to him, “are you new? I don’t think Seungcheol has sent you before.”

He takes the books gingerly, his gaze returning to the soft leather-bound journal after he gives you a short nod in thanks. As if it took him a moment to process the question he blinks and turns back to you, “Sorry— My name’s Wonwoo Jeon. I started working for Seungcheol last week.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you nod, trying to register the face with the name as comprehensively as you could. “Tell him to give me a ring when he needs his next order, I know he goes through those fairly quickly.”

“I will,” Wonwoo smiles, “Before I go do you think I could buy this?” His head nods down to the maroon colored leather-bound journal he’d been eyeing earlier, “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

A small smile gracing your lips, “Of course, it’s unlined though. Is that alright?”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he says as you pick up the book as his hands were already burdened with his boss’ order. “How much do I owe you?”

“No charge,” you shake your head, fingers tightening along the spine. It’s smooth but the ridges of the leather run coarse under your touch, “Think of it as a congratulatory gift for getting a job under Choi. I know he has a reputation for being a bit of a—”

“Hard-ass?” Wonwoo muses, eyes widening as he realizes how he’s just insulted his boss. “And really, I can pay for that, I’m sure it must’ve taken you a while to make it.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s the exact term I was looking for, but it does fit,” you laugh, raising the book up. “Don’t worry about it, do you want me to wrap it?” 

“If you could,” he offers a smile as you move to the roll of brown paper atop the register table. 

It only takes a minute for you to cover it, you’d done hundreds, if not thousands, of wrappings for novels and books. Once you finish tying the twine bow atop the journal, you gently stack it on the books Wonwoo holds. 

“I hope to see you here again, Mr. Jeon. That is, if Seungcheol doesn’t scare you off.”

“He’s like a weird mix of my dad and what I’d expect Hardy Amies to be,” you weren’t sure exactly who Amies is or what Wonwoo’s father was like, but you did know Seungcheol. Oddities and all. “And don’t worry, I have a stronger resolve than most,” he shoots you a wink before spinning on his heels and heading towards the door. He calls out, “Thanks again for the book!” before shoving the door open with his hip and losing himself in the crowd of the street outside.

1963, Winter There was nothing quite like the holiday season in New York. Shops elevated the grandeur of their storefronts to catch the eye of window shoppers. Your own shop had seen an influx of patrons, as was typically the case around this time of year. But the demands were great, your hands had the slew of papercuts and hastily put on bandages to show it. Not that you minded it all too much, it was great revenue and it had paid for the camel hair coat you donned this evening. 

The city was abuzz with life and festivities along almost every street, and while the excitement from Hanukkah and Christmas had died down over the last few weeks, most now looked towards the reining in of a New Year as December thirty first arrived. 

“We’re going to be late,” Vernon’s arm slides under yours, the crux of his arm locking into yours as his pace quickens along the dimly lit street. The sound of his derbies clicking against the pavement reverberating around the nearly empty row of houses. 

“It’s ten and we’re going to a New Year’s Eve party, I doubt we’ll be late, Vernon.” You let out a scoff, fumbling with your bag for a moment, not sure what you were searching for in the first place. The streetlamp’s orange glow does not aid you in deciphering the numbers etched into the doorways of the homes. 

“Says the person who took five years to pick out a jacket, I’m surprised we got out of your apartment before my hair turned gray— Wait a minute,” his fingers of his free hand trailing up to the dyed platinum locks on his head as he turns back to shoot you a glare, “It did.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” eyes rolling, you nudge him with your shoulder “It’s not my fault your stylist bleached you instead of dyeing you.”

“I feel like an idiot, they can’t even see me to fix it for another week.” He groans as the pair of you make your way to a brownstone tucked away neatly into one of the city’s streets. It would be innocuous from the others aligning the strip had you not been able to hear the gentle buzz of chatter and the occasional laugh drift out from the screened door. 

“Did Hong invite the whole block?” Vernon murmurs as he lets go of your arm so that he can jump up the short handful of stairs to the front door two by two. 

“It would explain how dead the rest of the street seems,” Musing, you follow him, more carefully as you’d always seemed prone to falling up stairs. The voices grow in volume and now you can even hear the scratchy sound of some music floating from the door. There’s no one at the door to greet you when you walk in, just an array of faces that you seem to recognize while others are brand new acquaintances, Vernon and you drop off your coats in a nearby closet and shuffle your way inside in search for the nearest drink station.

“I’d say his house is beautiful, but I can barely see anything. How does he know this many people?” Vernon questions as he slides out of the way of someone’s elbow almost hitting him in the stomach. “All I want is to get slightly drunk tonight but I bet the alcohol’s already gone.” 

“It’s the Hong household you know that’s not going to happen,” a snicker leaves you before you feel a gentle tapping on your shoulder. Stopping in your tracks you’re fully ready to meet Joshua Hong’s smirk and subsequent banter, but it takes you a minute to realize that it wasn’t your childhood friend that had garnered your attention at all; instead, it’s a somewhat less familiar face.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Wonwoo’s cheeks are slightly flushed with a smile, the contents of his champagne glass half-empty as he poses the question, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, sure.” You return his smile, nodding your head as he begins to walk off, only stopped by someone calling out to him.

“I didn’t know Pincushion would be here,” Vernon’s voice draws nearer behind you, it seems like he realized you weren’t trailing after him anymore. You feel his hand land on your shoulder as he continues to talk to Wonwoo, “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He taps his shoe on the floor, only stepping forward a little bit to let someone pass by behind him.

“Pincushion?” You question, looking from Vernon to Wonwoo with a quizzical look on your brow.

“That thing he wears around his wrist every time he comes in?” Vernon shrugs, “I couldn’t remember his name the first time I saw him, but I could remember that. Hence: Pincushion.” 

“Is that what it’s called?” You recall the ball of velvety looking green fabric you’d seen on Wonwoo’s wrist the last handful of times he’d come to pick up the tailor shop’s orders. 

“Yeah my grandma used to have one and I stole the needles from it to use as swords for my toys when I was a kid,” his shoulders shrug as he looks past Wonwoo and spots something beyond him. “I see one of those guys with a tray of drinks, I’ll get back to you in a bit.” And with that he’s off, sliding around you and Wonwoo to brush his way through the crowd in a frantic sprint to grab himself a glass.

“Does he know that there’s an open bar in the other room?” Wonwoo asks aloud as he watches your friend disappear into the crowd.

“Not yet but give him twenty minutes and I’m sure he’ll be all over it.” Vernon wasn’t one to drink heavily often, it was more of a holiday thing where he only did it if he knew he wasn’t going into work for the next few days. Needless to say, Christmas and New Years are binge drinking galore for him. 

“So, book binding? How’d you get into that line of work?” You’d been so concentrated on looking for your friend’s brightly colored hair that you almost didn’t hear Wonwoo when he asked. 

“Family business, dad’s too sick to come in.” Your eyes flickering over to him, a small shrug of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” his brow contorts into worry for a moment, as if he’d offended you somehow. 

“Don’t be, if anything I think he’s playing it up a bit just so mom has to be around more often,” You smile, it was really only minor back issues but the doctor had prescribed bed rest and your father had been milking it for months now. 

“Smart man,” a short laugh into his drink before he takes a sip from his glass. “So, how do you know Joshua?”

“Old family friend, plus he’s as rich as all get out so it’s nice to see what it’s like.” You note, looking up to the chandelier overhead. If it were anything but Tiffany you’d be surprised. “What about you?”

“You didn’t hear this from me but Seungcheol might be secretly dating one of his sisters and she invited the whole shop just as an excuse to see him.” The two of you lock eyes, a playful smirk on his lips dancing in the warm glow of the room. “I’m not complaining.”

“I don’t doubt it,” chuckling for a moment, you then look up as if you’ve realized something. “I should probably go and greet the host; can you imagine how rude of a guest I’d be if I didn’t?”

A ceding nod as he steps away from you, gesturing with his glass towards a side room off the main hall, “I think I saw him in there a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks, Wonwoo,” you move to pass him, heading towards the doorway before you stop for a moment, your head tilting in question, “Want to meet back up later?”

“I’d love that,” a gentle thud in your chest as you nod at him, beginning to move again and question the feeling that had plagued you enough to ask him that. 

You don’t find Joshua in that room, or the next, or even upstairs in his own bedroom. You do, however, find him on the second-floor fire escape, the butts of several cigarettes at his feet and a glass of whiskey in his hand. It’s cold, had you known this would be where you’d speak you would’ve brought your coat with you.

“Joshua Hong,” You begin, crouching down to duck through the open window, catching him as he’s begun to lean against the brick exterior of his home, “Hiding away from your party again?”

“The guest of the hour,” A grin as you walk towards him, “How are you? I haven’t seen you at all in the past few months.”

“I’m good, good… It’s been so hectic with the seasonal shopping and all, who knew journals were a hot commodity for gift-giving?” You sigh, elbows resting against the cold fence of the escape. The time between now and the last you’d seen him had been great, but it had always been far and few in between when it came to his jet setting tendencies. 

“Sounds hellish for sure,” Musing, he takes a sip from his glass, the scent of whisky hitting your nose as it nears. His other hand rests atop the rusted metal of the fire escape, impatiently tapping as he looks out into the backyard of his home.

“And what about you, Mr. Start-Up? Tear down any more conglomerates recently?” You query, noticing that he was on one of his inward treks again. Something must’ve come up with his family.  

A snicker, as he offers out his glass to you, noticing that your hands were painfully empty, “No, but we’re working on a pretty big acquisition right now. It’s all mind games and if I didn’t make a shitload of money I’d be out of this business.” 

“Lucky you though, you’re able to retire at thirty-five if you really wanted to,” musing as you swirl around the contents of the glass, the ice inside clinking around. 

He laughs, the cold air mixing with his breath in plumes of white that spiral into the nighttime. You push yourself from the wall, bringing the glass to your lips and downing the rest of the contents as quickly as you can, “This isn’t the time to be hard on yourself, Joshua. I think the countdown’s about to start,” a look at the small wrist watch on your wrist, the time indicating that you had about five minutes until the new year began.

“Shit,” the word elongated exasperatedly as he leans over to catch a glance at the clock face, “Let’s get back out there.”

The two of you amble inside, your cheeks cold with the winter air and hands a little stiff from holding the glass for too long. You set it down on one of the various demilunes scattered around the hall as you make your way back into Joshua’s living room. He’s lost along the way, pulled into a group of businessmen to talk or fawning girls to cajole with, you’re not sure which at this point. All you’re trying to do is find someone you know. 

You can try to push through the crowds to find Joshua, but at this point it’d be like trying to part the Red Sea with your own two hands and it was infeasible to say the least. Or you could head to one of the drink stations around the house in hopes to find Vernon, but he was as elusive as a snake and it’d be a miracle if you could find him before the clock struck midnight.

“Sixty!” A choir of voices ring out from a nearby room, you think you can hear Joshua’s voice rising above them all, but it might also be your ears playing tricks on you.

“Are they really counting down the entire minute?” The voice next to you startled you so much that you jumped, turned, and saw Jeon Wonwoo looking off in the direction of the countdown. His brow furrowing in confusion, “I at least thought it’d be the last ten seconds or something.”

“Jesus Wonwoo,” hand over your heart as you try and catch your breath, “You almost scared me to death.”

A laugh, “Sorry about that, I’m a little light on my feet.”

It also didn’t help that you could barely hear with the throng of people surrounding you. The gaiety electrifies the room, as it does the entire world when on the eve of a brand-new start. 

“Did you want me to help you find one of your friends? I’m sure they couldn’t have gone too far,” his height somewhat advantageous to him as he scans the crowd, not seeing you shake your head as the countdown reaches thirty.

“I think I’m fine just staying with you,” you don’t notice the way he tenses ever so slightly at your words, a more rouge tint to his cheeks as he looks back to you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure?” Eyes widening as your gazes’ lock and you feel the familiar warmth creeping up the back of your neck.

“If that’s okay with you?” You question, the countdown hitting fifteen.

“That’s great— fine, it’s— yeah,” he trips and stumbles over his words, trying to find solid ground somewhere on the confab plain. It’s at that moment the countdown comes to ten, and the pair of you join in for the last seconds of 1963.

Five, four, three, two — 

“Happy New Year!” 

The clock had struck midnight and he was the closest one to you, you can’t remember if it was you or him that pulled the other closer to share a kiss. The kiss was chaste, but it resounded around your ribcage like the booming of the fireworks being shot off a distant skyscraper. A smile on your lips as you mouth back your own, “Happy New Year!” Despite it being innocent in nature, you know with the way the feeling buzzes on your lips you yearn for something more.

1964, Early Spring. The two of you’d spent time together since that evening, outside of that transactional relationship formed in the commerce of you selling your journals and him picking them up for Seungcheol whenever he could. It was outside of that realm, more personal as the days, weeks and months had transgressed. 

By some miraculous circumstance, and no less of your incessant mentioning, you and Wonwoo had been seeing each other on a regular basis 

“Seungcheol?” The door of the tailor shop opens with nothing short of a struggle. The heavy oak pressing back against your foot as you pry it open, your hands too full to push it. 

“Need some help?” A voice behind you, startling you so much that you almost drop the large stack of books in your hand. You look over your shoulder to see Wonwoo standing behind you, his head tilted as if to question how you’d made it this far on your own.

“Thanks,” allowing him to brush past you, he steps into the shop and holds the door open wider as you enter. “Where is everyone?” Noticing that the usual handful of other tailors didn’t seem to be aimlessly roaming the store waiting for a customer to arrive.

“Busy,” He notes, motioning for you to hand him the plethora of journals. Obliging willingly, you hand them off and stretch your arms, surely the strain from the hardbacks would pull your finger muscles. “There’s been an emergency tailoring session, some big shot’s in town and needs alterations done for some party they’re throwing tomorrow night.”

“Explains why no one came to pick up the order today,” you muse, “Shouldn’t you be helping with that?”

“I will be in about an hour,” he sighs as if he’s already imagining the work that he’ll need to put in this evening. “But someone had to watch over the shop today.” 

“Do you want company while you wait?”

You’re not sure how you’d gotten roped into staying with Wonwoo until well after the sun had set and the last customer had come in for the day. The lights of the shop are off, save for the small lamp that sits above Wonwoo’s workstation. He sits at his little desk in the back corner of the shop as he sews and hems away. His eyes scan the notes the patron had given when they’d dropped off the clothes, you had to squint to try and read the messy scrawl etched onto the parchment. You sit some desks away, flipping through some editorial detailing the up and coming designers of the fashion world but nothing was particularly catching your eye.

“Three alterations in one night, Seungcheol’s really trying to work us to the bone,” Wonwoo sighs exasperatedly, his hands falling atop his desk, a needle held between his right index and thumb while his other hand holds the garment he’d been attending to.

“Doesn’t it take a week to do something for just one piece?” You ask, not too versed on the schematics of it all, just acutely aware of when your father had needed suits adjusted as he aged.

“Normally,” he glances over to you, a hazy impatience settling behind his brow as he thinks to the two other pieces he was set to mend. “But it’s nine-thirty now and the guy wants them done by noon tomorrow,” Wonwoo almost barks out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, “I didn’t even get the roughest pieces, Mingyu’ll be up all night and finish five minutes beforehand if he’s lucky.”

“What are they making him do?” Magazine set aside as you stand to stretch, your legs numb with the fuzziness of pinched nerves.

“Some simple inseam stuff like I’m doing, but also taking in a few jacket sleeves and fixing shoulder divots,” He says as if you know what he’s talking about, upon seeing the puzzled expression that paints itself on your face he explains a little more, “It’s nearly impossible to do with the amount of time we’ve been given.”

“Why’d Seungcheol accept this job then?” Pins and needles poking through your skin as you walk over to him to take a look at what he was working on.

“Because the client’s paying us a fortune,” setting the needle down he pulls a pin from the cushion around his wrist to situate it into an odd angle in the fabric in front of him, “I might actually be able to take you on a real date if I finish this in time.”

“I’ve kind of liked the ice cream socials,” you shrug your shoulders, as he turns to look at you, “And all of the gritty little dives, it’s more memorable that way. Plus, it makes me a cheap date.”

A small ‘tch’ leaving him as he turns back to his work, “You deserve more than that.”

“As long as you’re there I’ll be fine,” you lean down to press a kiss on his cheek, “Now I’ll stop distracting you, I’ll make dinner or lunch or something because I know you’ll be dead on your feet tomorrow.”

“Try and get to bed early,” he says as you go to grab your things from where you’d left them up front, “I know you like to overwork yourself too.”

1964, Summer When you’d been invited to Wonwoo’s small apartment, you’d expected a small dinner and then maybe you’d go and watch television or explore the city afterwards. What you hadn’t expected was to see dark plumes of smoke emitting from under the doorway. You don’t knock, instead you barge into the apartment to find Wonwoo unlatching his windows and opening them to let the smoke escape, the source of the plumes coming from his small kitchen. 

“What happened?” You call out as he turns to you, your hand rising to your face as if it could vanquish the putrid smell. 

“I cooked,” the last window opens with a struggle, Wonwoo’s arms ache with how much force he had to exert when opening it. He shuffles over to you, seeing that you’d walked into the kitchen to find the source of it all.

“You… cooked….” A charred, black entity sits in a pan that Wonwoo had presumably pulled from the oven minutes prior. “Wonwoo what is that?”

“A loaf!” An almost excited tone cutting through your confusion as you turn and tilt your head at him.

“A… loaf of?”

“Meat!” At least he’s trying to sound cheerful, but that was his disposition most of the time. His hand guides your gaze over to a handwritten recipe atop the counter, he must’ve gotten it from some program. “I followed Julia Child’s recipe.” 

“I’m not trying to be mean but that looks like a brick.” Gaze flickering back to the meat-brick. 

“Yeah,” a sigh as he picks up a nearby spatula, grazing it atop the burnt meat, it scrapes atop it rather than giving way at all, “It’s about as hard as one too.”

The utter exasperation breaking through in his voice cause enough for you to laugh, the absurdity of it all pricking tears into the corners of your eyes. “We can try and salvage it,” you offer once you calm yourself down enough, the occasional chuckle flitting like a bird around your ribcage.

“Let’s just go to Le Pavilion or something, there’s also a new movie out too, we can try and catch it if we eat fast enough.”

And you do. For some reason Wonwoo orders the most expensive dish on the menu and doesn’t even like it, offering it to you instead with an abysmal pout that almost has you reeling in the small interior of the restaurant. The atmosphere is warm and jovial, met by the sinking sun as the two of you exit the venue, hands interlocked with a faint tightness as if you never wanted to be without him in your grasp again. Wonwoo and you then walk to a theater some blocks away, hands still held and a bubbling silence between you.

The film that Wonwoo had mentioned earlier had been Mary Poppins, some Disney film starring Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke; you’re sure you’d heard Andrews somewhere before, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“I didn’t realize they could combine live action and cartoons like that,” Wonwoo’s voice full of childlike wonder as the pair of you exit the cinema. The smell of popcorn wafts out of the theater’s doors and the bright bulbs of the marquee overhead creates a strange glow contrasted to the nighttime sky. 

“I didn’t either,” you note as a few kids brush past you and begin to race down the street, their voices carrying off into the night. It brings a small smile to your lips as you watch them gallivant around, not a care in the world as they continue to chase one another.

“Do you want me to walk with you back to your place?” Wonwoo offers, extending his hand out to you. You don’t answer aloud, instead just take his hand into yours and begin to walk the steadily emptying streets.

“Have you always lived in the city, Wonwoo?” It takes a moment for you to speak again, instead of just admiring the way that the lights glint off of passing windows and the rumblings of the cars that pass to your left drown out in the other amblings of the city.

“No, my family actually lives up north a little way away.” He hums to himself as he thinks, “I thought I’d always be stuck up there too, but I got the offer from Seungcheol and moved here as fast as I could. Although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it at times.”

“I see,” you mutter, not knowing the feeling of leaving your home. It was a foreign concept to say the least, for almost the entirety of your life you’d known you were going to take over your father’s shop one day, and you’d been complacent in the matter. You’d had your hobbies that you dabbled in, but this was a nostalgic comfort that would and had transitioned into your livelihood that would take you nowhere other than the little shop you call your own. “Would you want to move back?”

“Maybe when I’m older, sure. But I want to see the world first,” he nods his head, a twitch in his hand as he holds yours, “there’s so much I haven’t done or seen.”

It was a reckless ambition, but Wonwoo lived in that fantasy of the unknown, he had for all of his life. That was what he knew and all he abided by. You’d be fooling yourself if you didn’t worry for him at times, but he’d made it so far and you were curious to see where he was going. There was a creative longing, a desire to make, within him that no one else you’d come across had.

“I love you.” The words aren’t romantic when they fall from your mouth, when they’re swept up in the humidity of the summer air and ring around both his and your ears. This was more of a reckoning, a realization of the culmination of your growing feelings towards him since you’d met him almost a year ago now. A weight you hadn’t realized was there lifting from your chest, a songbird free from a gilded cage.

Wonwoo pauses, his feet stopping on the concrete as you continue to walk, only pulled back when you meet resistance. So, you stop yourself, turning back to look at him, a little ‘o’ on his lips and a confused look gracing his features. Had you said it too early? Or did he not reciprocate your feelings?

“You beat me to it,” a small pout emerges onto his lower lip, “I love you too.”

1964, Autumn “I can’t imagine those are comfortable.” You’re sure the clacking of your shoes could be heard miles away, with the obnoxious way they hit the sidewalk. They were pinching your toes too, and you might as well have put a band-aid on the backs of your heels because they were definitely going to be blistered tomorrow morning.

“They most certainly aren’t, but they are cute.” You note, standing on your toes so you can click the red slippers together three times at the heel. “

Wonwoo stands at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to your apartment, offering out his hand for you to grasp when you carefully make your way down the steps. As opposed to the cool air that had begun to settle into the city, his hand offers warmth against your bare skin as his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Which way is Vernon's?” He questions, looking over your costume for the evening.

“He lives over in Flatiron, kind of near the shop so it won’t be too far of a walk.” You notice him looking at the checkered dress and bright shoes. “Was Dorthey not a good idea, Mr. Holmes?” Noting his outfit of choice, the pipe held in his free hand, the detective cap as well as the cape to match.

“I think you look cute,” Looking away from you and towards the street you’d begun to walk down.

Vernon’s apartment was small, it being so led to more intimate parties than one would find at Joshua Hong’s home, in a way you appreciated it a little more. Bigger parties with unfamiliar faces made you feel as if you had to act less like yourself and more robotic in your interactions.

“I’ll let you in if you promise not to chuck my house to Oz,” Vernon asks as he jokingly cracks open his front door as the two of you stand in front of it, “And Pincushion here doesn’t try and solve a murder or two.”

“Hmm I guess that’s doable, right?” You play along, turning to Wonwoo to confirm.

“It might take some restraint but I’m sure I can manage.” Hand under his chin as if he’s deep in thought.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Vernon sighs and swings the door open, “Drinks in the kitchen, I think Chan’s trying to do a comedy-musical routine in the living room. I’d steer clear because he’s trying out ‘audience participation’ tonight.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” You laugh as you walk inside, the warmth of the room exacerbated by the sheer number of people crammed into the tiny space. “I actually kind of want to check out Chan’s thing,” You mention to Wonwoo after you find a space where the two of you can stand unimpeded.

“I don’t know if I can stomach that quite yet, want me to grab you a drink in the meantime?” Wonwoo asks, looking towards the kitchen and the few people filtering in and out of it.

“That’d be great,” a smile and then Wonwoo’s off to struggle his way through the packed room.

Lip bitten, you try to look through the crowd, but the drawls of laughter tell you almost exactly where Chan’s giving his tri-annual standup show. It’s shoulder to shoulder and you can barely hear him over the other going-ons of the party but from what you can ascertain it’s pretty funny.

“Happy Halloween!” A hand on your side as they call out, you turn, and it takes you a moment to recognize the face under the Gomez Addams’ mustache and wig.

“Joshua!” A smile as you move to hug him for a moment, pulling away with your hands resting on his forearms, “I thought you were overseas?”

“I was supposed to be, a nasty storm delayed us by a few days over in Spain so I’m not leaving until Wednesday.” He says, looking over your outfit. “Didn’t you wear this like two Halloweens ago?”

“What no one knows won’t hurt them,” a playful nudge on his shoulder, “And if I were to remember, this wig looks very Elvis of you.”

“You might be able to remember correctly,” The black strands of hair that were pulled back are still reminiscent of the shape they once held. “Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to you alone?” Joshua smiles, a nervous tinge to his voice as he continues, “It’s a little loud in here and I can’t really hear.”

“Oh, yeah,” brow furrowing at the attitude shift, “But first I should tell— Wonwoo!” The confused expression on Joshua’s face is somewhat laughable as you wave your boyfriend over, spotting him exiting the kitchen with two drinks in hand.

“There you are,” Wonwoo says as he walks over, placing a kiss on your cheek as he hands you a glass. You’re not too sure what the contents are, but it’s warm and smells spiced and oddly autumnal. “Hey Joshua,” he greets with a small nod of his head as you take a small sip from your glass.

“Hey Wonwoo,” a return of the nod, “I should probably let the two of you go, I just remembered I have some calls I need to make.”

“What did you want to talk about?”  You ask as Joshua begins to turn on his heels. It freezes him, he looks back to you before offering you a warm smile once again.

“It’s nothing important, I’ll catch up with you some other time, yeah?”

The party goes one without much note after, the most affable thing being that routine that Chan had been preparing.  At one point you and Wonwoo had slipped out citing an acute tiredness as an excuse to just walk the city some more. By this time of night, the kids that had gone out in search of candy were slowly waning, now only the belligerently drunk wandered the streets in search of the home they probably lived in.

“You have to admit that the joke about Red Skelton was pretty funny though,” insisting that Chan wasn’t the worst comedian you had ever seen. Sure, his act could be cleaned up a little but there was definitely potential.

“What was it— I know a guy who bought a $99 color TV set. Now every Tuesday night he watches Green Skelton?” Chuckling as he recalls the joke, Wonwoo shakes his head “That was pretty good.”

“That’s the one, he’s no Jerry Lewis but he’s trying his best,” you laugh as you arrive at the entrance of your apartment, “Did you want to come in?”

“I’d love to,” he says, and your heart skips several beats, “but I’ve got a client coming in early tomorrow.” And then your heart drops, “I’ll come by tomorrow after I’m done?”

“Alright,” you nod and you say your good nights, he places a kiss on your cheek before turning on his heels and walking into the darkness of night. 

You fumble with your hands, trying to unlatch the small picnic basket that had acted as your purse for the evening, in search of your keys. 

“Actually, do you have room for one more?” You’d been too distracted trying to get your keys that you hadn’t heard or seen Wonwoo come back to your stoop. 

“I thought you said you had work tomorrow,” a wayward glance to him.

“I do, but it’s dark and I’m kind of afraid to walk home alone, I mean what if a ghost or vampire gets me? I’m too pretty to die right now,” he states, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to invite him in. 

“A big baby, more like it,” you scoff, once again turning to look at your door and stating, “If you are coming inside, can you lend me my own spare? I think I dropped my keys at Vernon’s.”

“Yeah I think I’ve got it on my ring,” he rummages around his pockets for a moment until you hear the familiar jingle of his keys. There are only four that adorn the metal hoop; his apartment’s, his mailbox’s, Seungcheol’s shop, and the most recent addition: yours. 

“Roommate not home?” He questions as the two of you make your way inside, kicking off your shoes as you beeline to your kitchen.

“At some B. Altman holiday extravaganza with her beau,” pulling two glasses from a cabinet and grabbing a nearby bottle from the small section of your kitchen dedicated to alcohol, “Nightcap?”

“A small one,” Wonwoo nods as you come into the room, he’s standing over your record player, turning it on and beginning to play whatever was on the platter. You set the glasses down onto the coffee table and pry the cork out of the bottle, pouring two small glasses as he falls into the sofa beside you.

“I hope Delamain’ll do?” You set down the bottle and pass a glass to Wonwoo, only settling down on the couch once your own glass is in hand.

“It’s perfectly fine,” he sips at his glass, setting it down on the settee as he muses some more, “What record is this?”

“Ella Fitzgerald, mom gave it to me for my birthday last year, it’s one of her favorites.” Sipping from your own glass steadily turns into you just downing the liquid in one go. The glass hits the end table with a clink when you set it down, Wonwoo’s free hand resting on your thigh as he listens to the music wafting through the air.

“It’s lovely,” he sighs out as you rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his Pour Monsieur cologne invading your senses as you settle. The meticulous grazing of his fingers over your thigh causes you to sigh, wanting to sink further into him.

“Can you kiss me?” The words fall breathlessly from your lips, as his fingers trace the hem of your dress. And he does, turning his head to crash against you with such voraciousness that your teeth click against each other before he steadies and falls into motion with you. The pair of you stay like that for a moment, before you feel his hand slip under your leg, urging you to sit atop him. 

You straddle his waist, feeling a hardness beginning to strain against his trousers as you grind down onto his lap. He lets out a moan, probably the sweetest thing you’d ever heard, his eyelids fluttering as you do it again. A smirk graces your lips, your hands trailing from his chest to the button on the front of his pants, the fabric coarse under your touch as you move to unfasten it. Before you could, you feel a pair of warm hands atop yours, you looked up to see a wide-eyed Wonwoo. 

“I didn’t think I’d be doing this today, so my underwear isn’t exactly mood appropriate—” He says all too quickly for you to comprehend fully, “Just don’t judge me too hard.”

“They can’t be— Is that Mickey Mouse?” You catch the name on the waistband of his underwear, hesitating on releasing any more of the animated character for your eyes to see. 

“And I think you’ve just killed the mood,” he groans, his head falling onto the back pillow as his hands fall atop the couch cushions. 

“No, I didn’t,” you lean down for a kiss, rolling your hips over him, feeling that he was almost fully erect. His hands fly back to your sides, guiding you along as he lifts his pelvis to meet yours. “I think they’re cute but maybe leave them home next time.”

“Next time?” He mused, looking up at you through clouded eyes, a joking tinge added to his voice “What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?”

“Call it foresight,” shoulders shrugging as you look down at him, your head tilted ever so slightly “and you don’t seem like the hit it and quit it type, baby.” He’d slept over at your apartment before, maybe you’d had a few drunken makeout sessions but nothing ever this sobering, this far. In hindsight maybe you should’ve been nervous, let the butterflies in your stomach take over and calm you down. You’re not sure why you’d taken such a confident route with him, it just seems like he needed it. 

“Baby,” the word fell out as a whisper as you saw the faint pinkness of his cheeks in the glow that emanates from the lamp to his right, “Can you spare me any further embarrassment and just take them off already?”

“It doesn’t feel like you’ve got anything to be embarrassed about,” your hand brushing his away from the front of his pants, you sit up on your knees, “Mind kicking them off for me?”

He readily began to comply as you tried to maneuver without inhibiting him, you noticed him watching you, a hunger in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. His hands still for a moment and his head twists to look towards the kitchen where the entryway is. 

“Fuck— is someone else here?” He asks and you listen to the familiar sound of your front door unlocking; it doesn’t open but you can hear loud footfalls and an even louder voice talking outside of the door. 

“Sooyoung?” You call out after you were sure the voices had stopped, walking to the kitchen when you hear your roommate's keys hitting the kitchen counter “I thought you were staying at your boyfriend’s?”

“The asshole broke up with me because he wanted to be Holly Golightly. Him! He might have astoundingly good looks for it but I think I’m a little prettier, don’t you think?” The door of the fridge slamming shut, a rustle around the utensil drawer as she looks for a spoon. She did look stunning as the Hepburn character; you have to admit. “They’re re-airing that episode of Perry Mason if you want to watch it.”

“Wonwoo’s actually over so I think I’m just going to call it a night,” You say, leaning against the doorframe, watching her begin to dig into a tub of ice cream. “I’ll be sure to rant about your ex with you tomorrow.”

“You’d really do that?” A sigh as she shoves the spook into her mouth, “I’ll try not to wake you guys up when I get up for work tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Sooyoung,” a smile before you slip away and head back into the living room. “Alright Woo, it’s time for bed.”

“Alright,” Wonwoo pushes himself off of the couch, buttoning his pants and shouting out a ‘Goodnight Sooyoung!’ before ducking into your room. With his long strides he walks to your bed and subsequently falls into it as you turn to close the door behind the two of you.

“Don’t you want to change, Dr. Holmes?” You note his still costumed self as you look at his sprawling figure on the bed, “I think I’ve got your bed clothes from the last time you were here… Not sure if I cleaned them though.”

He huffs, “Forget it, I’m going to sleep.” He crawls to his side, blanketing himself with your duvet as you go into your bathroom to remove your makeup and change. 

You can hear him softly snoring as you exit the restroom, your face still a little damp and the scent of your cleanser tingling your nose. Sooyoung’s turned off the music in the living room, the garbled sounds of the small black and white tv quietly floating in under your door. It takes a moment, but you climb into bed next to Wonwoo, pulling the duvet up to your chin before you shut your eyes and fall into a dreamless slumber.

It isn’t sunny out when you wake up, you don’t want to look at your clock for fear that your alarm was about to go off and you’d miss the opportunity to sleep in a few minutes more. An arm draped over you, even in sleep Wonwoo was a cuddler. Normally you weren’t opposed unless it was the summertime and it was unbearably hot outside. 

“You know,” you hear him mumble tiredly, as if he senses that you’ve woken up too, “I always thought your apartment would be much more… bookier.” With the way his voice rasps with fatigue you’re not sure if he’s fully awake or half asleep. 

“What were you expecting? Books wall to wall?” eyes still closed as you pull your duvet closer to you, feeling his arm tense around your waist. 

“Kind of, something akin to a fairytale library,” his breath hot on your back, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the sensation. “Like uhm— some Grimm story… Oh,” voice perking, “Can we go for that Halloween next year? You didn’t even tell me what you were going as until I saw you tonight.”

“You want to have a couple’s costume?”

“Yeah,” breathing slowly as if he’s falling back asleep again,”Maybe Lucy and Ricardo, that’d be fun.”

The next time you wake up, the sun’s blaring into your eyes with an intensity you had never asked for.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Wonwoo’s mumbling and shuffling around your room, sunlight was pouring in from your windows and he looked heavenly even in his manic state.

“What’s wrong?” Stifling a yawn behind your hand as you watch him frantically feel his pockets.

“It’s nine-thirty, We— I overslept,” another string of curses escaping him as he looks around your room, “Do you have a phone I can use?”

“It’s on the dresser.” You point lazily to the red rotary.

You hear the dial tone ring a few times before someone on the other end picks up, “Mingyu can you put my client on the line?” A pause, “Yes I know I’m late.” Another pause before Wonwoo speaks again, “Hello Mr. Smith? Yes, this is Wonwoo Jeon. I'm running a little late for our appointment, I had bit of an emergency and— Huh? Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Only minorly,” he frowns, “You wouldn’t happen to have a suit perfectly tailored for me to wear, would you?”

“Can’t say that I do, why don’t you just go in what you’re wearing?”

“I am not going dressed up as Sherlock Holmes for this client. I have some pride, you know.” 

“You’re literally wearing Mickey Mouse underwear,” you snort, “it doesn’t look that bad anyway, just don’t wear the hat and lose the pipe. Maybe the cloak too but it’s kind of sexy.” 

“Don’t try to tempt me,” he groans, buttoning and zipping his pants, “I’m late enough as is.” 

“I’d offer you an iron if Sooyoung hadn’t broken mine, that shirt looks super wrinkly now that I see it in the sunlight,” you note, he still looked nice though. He would probably look nice in anything he wore.

“Ugh, really?” Hands running over the wrinkled fabric he sighs to himself, “I’d say I’ve looked worse, but I normally have myself together.” 

“Good luck. I, for one, am going back to sleep.” You sigh and fall back into your blankets, not wanting to leave the sanctuary of warmth quite yet.

“Now who’s the baby?” He scoffs and you hear him tread to the side of the bed, a kiss planted on your forehead as you crinkle your nose up at him. “I’ll call you later today?”

“I’ll talk to you then.”

1964, Late Autumn. The rain began only a few minutes into your trek to the cafe, your umbrella weeping with the droplets as they roll off its surface as you trudge down the street. There’s a rumble in the distance but you’re not sure if it’s the local train station or thunder somewhere off beyond the city. Your other hand in your pocket, running your finger along the ridges of your shop’s key. While you know you’d locked it, you can’t help but have the underlying fear that you’d left the door wide open so that anyone could just walk in. Although you’re not quite sure what they’d take, a few blank notebooks don’t seem like it’d do too well in any sort of underground market. 

By the time you pull yourself from your thoughts, you’re standing in front of a small cafe that feels more like a second home to you than your own apartment did at this point. The door swings open, you stand in the entranceway so that you can close your umbrella and leave it in the small stand upfront before you head fully inside. It smells like autumn, or at least the coffee’d variant of it. Pumpkin, nutmeg, and a few other scents you can’t quite pinpoint wafting through the air as you walk up to the counter to place your order. You pick out a few pastries as well and ask that they’re brought out when your coffee is ready. A hand to remove the paper-wrapped book under your arm so you can reach for your wallet, realizing then that the water had soaked into the leather. The wrapping paper now a little damp from where it’d brushed against your coat, you pick it back up as well as grab the receipt from the barista before scouring the cafe for what you’d come here to do in the first place.

Wonwoo’s dozing off when you find him in the back corner of the coffee shop. His jacket slung on the chair beside him, a scarf thrown haphazardly atop it as he leans with his head tilting backwards, pretty much dead to the world. Had the two of you not been frequent customers you’re sure that he would’ve been kicked out by now. But there he was, black turtleneck, tailored pants, and the cartoon bandages he loves so much wrapped tightly around his fingertips.

He doesn’t wake up when you accidentally scrape your chair on the ground when you pull it back to sit across from him nor does he wake when you drop the paper-bound book atop the table with a loud thud. Wonwoo does, however, wake when you brush your hand gently atop his, nearly falling out of his chair as his eyes open wider than you’d ever seen someone’s do. 

“That wasn’t funny,” he frowns as you snicker, glancing over to the counter trying to act as if he’s regained his composure, “did you already order?”

“For me? Yes,” you place your bag in the chair adjacent to you, shrug off your raincoat and hang it on the back of your chair. “For you, what is it that you get? Flat white, two sugars, low fat milk?”

“That’s it,” he hums, leaning his head back once more. It must’ve been another sleepless night for him.

“You should be thankful I’ve got an exceptional memory,” you frown as he can’t see you, he overworks himself too much and if you ever try to bring it up he brushes it off with a wave and an excuse of ‘I’m just doing what I love’. 

“You know,” he begins, leaning his head back up, opening his eyes to look at you. There was something shining behind them that you’d only seen on a handful of occasions; he has an idea and he’s not sure that you’ll like it, “I was wondering if you’d model a dress for me? Not for a fashion show or anything. I just think it’d look good on you.”

His gaze breaks from yours to look at the aisle behind you, you turn and see the barista coming with your drinks and assortment of baked goods. After a few repetitious ‘thank you’s she leaves and the pair of you are left alone once more. 

“Are you flirting with me?” An eyebrow piqued as you looked at him. He’d asked you to do some of the strangest things before, going from the mundane ‘I think we need to get annual tickets to the opera just in case I forget your birthday and it’ll be a birthday present’ to ‘I swear to god if we don’t rescue this cat right now I’m never calling you again’. But it was two am and a sorely inebriated Wonwoo had thought that a raccoon was a cat as it rummaged through the garbage. That had also been the night where he’d serenaded you with his own rendition of Blossom Dearies ‘Dance Only With Me’ and Sinatra’s ‘I’m a Fool to Want You’; he’d broken down crying at the latter and you’d forced him to go to bed early. He only went on the condition that you’d hug him as he slept. It was certainly an interesting way to spend your first date together. 

“Do you want me to be? I’d say it’s fairly doable,” He winks as he drinks from his mug, blowing on its contents beforehand to cool the brew. 

A laugh, the brown paper under your fingertips wrinkling as you strain your fingers and push it towards him. It slides across the wood with relative ease, your finger partially tearing the paper where it had been dampened by the rain. 

“I brought you your book.”

“Unlined and all?” He asks as he sets down his cup, shifting himself forward to get a better look.

“Unlined, flexible binding, the works.” 

“You’re a lifesaver,” he sighs, taking the still wrapped book into his grasp. 

“I know,” you smile, watching as his fingers toy with the twine that kept it together. 

“Hello? Paging Ms. Bookbinder, you there?” Wonwoo’s hand waves in front of your face, suddenly you’re back in reality and trying to remember the conversation. You didn’t realize you’d zoned out that hard.

“Yes Mr. Reichelt?” You question, looking down as his finger’s unlace the twine you’d wrapped around the paper packaging. 

“Don’t call me that I am much cooler than Franz Reichelt, and less dead, for that matter.”

“Can you say that after you drink your coffee?” You poke jokingly while he eyes his mug with a wary glance.

“Anyway, were you even listening to me?” He leans towards you, elbows resting on the tabletop and a slight curvature to his smile that looked far too playful for the current moment. It stilled your heart for a second before you shake your head at him. 

“Not really, no.” You confess, sipping from your cup, “What is it?”

“I was asking if you would let me make a dress for you. I’ve had this idea in my mind for weeks and I finally got this mulberry silk imported from Lyon and it’s too good not to use immediately.”

“I don’t even need a dress like that, Wonwoo.” You frown, picking at one of the pastries in front of you, pinching off a piece before stuffing it into your mouth. “I’m not exactly the type that goes to parties where I’d need a silk dress.” You think that the last party you’d attended you’d worn a sweater and a dress from your roommate’s closet, nothing remotely close to what he was proposing. 

“You don’t even know what it looks like,” he pouts, “All I need are your measurements, you won’t even have to see the thing if you don’t want to.” 

A sigh, “Fine. When do you want me to drop by?”

“Does Tuesday around ten work for you?”

“I should be able to get Vernon to look over the shop while I’m gone.”

1964, Winter. The ringing of your shop’s bells draws you to the front room, your hands wrought with binding glue, you try to rub them on the apron you wear to rid yourself of the sensation. Before you can ask what the customer needs you stop in your tracks, head tilting to the side, “Isn’t it your day off?”

“It is,” Wonwoo’s voice is cheery as he walks in further, looking at the array of newly bound books sitting out on display.

“What are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to want to see you?” You fluster at the words, hard to hide the small smile that forms on your lips.

“I mean, you can, it’s just that I’m working.” You motion to the store, to the few customers browsing the items.

“You’ve spent however many nights watching me hem skirts and taper jackets; I think it’s time I return the favor.” A nod of his head as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “What can I do to help?”

“What the hell’s Pincushion doing here?” Before you’re able to open your mouth, Vernon comes out of the back room with a stack of books in his grasp, “I thought you’d be holed up in your shop by now.”

“It’s my day off.”

“And you’re spending it… here…” The thud of books landing on a nearby table as the skepticism in Vernon’s voice rises.

“Yep.”

“He must really like you,” Vernon scoffs, going to grab a different selection of books off of another shelf. He turns to you and asks, “Can you grab me the leather samples from the back? I think Maisel’s coming in today and you know how he gets.”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You shake your head and head to the back room to search for the swatches.

While he waits, Wonwoo notices a small web lingering in the intersection of two walls, the sunlight glinting off its strands having been what alerted him to his presence in the first place. At first, he thinks to sweep it away with a broom he knows is hidden somewhere in your storeroom. You weren’t the biggest fan of bugs or arachnids; he was surprised you hadn’t rid your shop of it by now. But he can’t find it within himself to brush the web asunder. It had worked hard to build and craft its home; he knew firsthand how difficult creating something from nothing was. 

“Her name is Jorōgumo.” Vernon had walked up behind Wonwoo with little announcement. The younger jumps, turning his head to look at the other. “I offered to kill her… him…? For her but she said it was eating the bugs and to let it be.”

Wonwoo eyes the fat-bodied spider, “Why is it named that?”

“It’s a fairytale from Japan, there’s a spider that looks like a woman. It entices men to follow her and then eats them while they’re distracted,” Vernon explains, the sound of the storeroom opening behind him.

“Are you bullying Arachne again?” You frown, handing the swatches to Vernon and looking up to the small web in the corner.

“I am not bullying Jorōgumo.”

“If I’m keeping a spider in my shop, I am not naming it after a monster.”

“And a heretic is better?” Vernon scoffs, tapping Wonwoo on the shoulder, “What do you think, Pincushion?”

“I’m just wondering why both the myths have to be women,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks to you, “Do you think you’d be free this evening so I can take your measurements? I finally have some free time to start working on that dress.”

“I think so,” a nod as you look at Vernon, “Mind looking after the shop for a bit?”

1965, Early Spring “Didn’t you already measure me?” Wonwoo’s hands hold a rolling measuring tape as he holds it up to your forearm as you ask.

“Yeah, but I want to make sure this is perfect.” Tape lowered; he writes down the number into one of the journals he’d brought with him to your apartment. Trailing away from that your eyes look to the bouquet he brought when he’d come over.

“What’s the deal?” Brow furrowing at the pink, red and white blooms, “You never give me flowers.”

“It’s a special occasion,” Beaming, he’s as bright as the sun. A jilted visage against the cool tones of your apartment’s interior. He looks up to you with a vividness in his eyes, “Your boyfriend’s going to Paris.”

“What do you mean Paris?” A hitch in your voice as you ask, a strange and warped confusion overcoming you.

“Seungcheol got me an apprenticeship with one of his friends, he’s going to be in town in a few weeks to talk about it with me and I want to show off the dress there.” He’s speaking at a mile a minute, a clear excitement as he beams.

“Don’t fall for some mysterious Parisian woman while you’re there,” You poke, still unsure about how you even feel about this.

“I doubt I’ll have time to even wander the city. With all of the workshops and sessions we’ll have. It’s going to be the opportunity of a life— ow—” he says as you gently hit his shoulder. “I won’t fall for some other girl, I promise,” He laughs and continues to take your measurements.

1965, Late Spring “Did you have a good time tonight?” The lock clicking into place as he asks, your footsteps falling on the floor as you make your way to his workbench in the center of what would’ve been his living room had he not made it into a makeshift workshop. 

You note the tools, the fabrics and array of swatches that litter his home, the pincushion he wears on his wrist as he works settled onto the tabletop. It’s as if the apartment is a representation of him, messy in ambition but persevering through the struggles as he tries to find the limelight of his own. A smile forming as he walks over to you.

“I had a wonderful time, thank you for inviting me.”

It had been a small gathering at the tailor shop, a small dinner with Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Seungcheol’s friend and Wonwoo’s future mentor Jeonghan, and yourself. The entirety of the night you’d felt a knot forming in your stomach, the anxiety of Wonwoo’s future endeavors weighing heavily on your shoulders. You want to be happy for him but the closer it gets to Wonwoo’s departure for Paris leaves you feeling more and more despair at the event of it all.

“Thank you for coming,” Wonwoo’s hands find your sides as you lean your backside against the rough wooden edge of the table. “You made it all the more bearable,” smiling softly in the dim lighting of the apartment, he leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. The wine from earlier lingers on his breath, you’re sure it does the same to yours, the darkness of the red already making you warm and your body feeling weightless, almost as if you were floating in a pool of water. 

You part, staring into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation before he’s leaning in again to find your lips. His kiss seems as if it seeks to steal the breath from your lungs. To devour you entirely until all you can think of is his closeness, the softness of his lips atop yours, of just him. The woolen fabric of his overcoat is rough under your fingertips as you move your hands from the workshop table to his shoulders, gently pulling at the cloth to urge him to discard the garment. His hands leave your sides momentarily as he shrugs the jacket off, the fabric falling and pooling on the floor at his feet. A metallic clang echoing around the space as he leans forward to lock his lips with yours.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe, soft pants escaping the both of you as you turn your head from him, your eyes trailing to the sewing scissors that had clattered onto the floor. Another rustling of fabric and you realize he’s discarded his suit jacket as well.

“Let it be,” a hand under your chin, guiding you back to the comfort of his lips. He presses himself into your touch, the way your fingers dance along the smooth cotton of his starched shirt, fiddle with the buttons and run your fingertips atop the small engravings adorning them. 

“Are we really going to do this in your workspace?” You look up to his darkened gaze, your voice caught in your throat as his own fingers move to toy with the neckline of your dress. Gentle, electric touches that have you reeling.

“Does that bother you?” His lips leave yours once more as he places soft, yearning kisses to your cheek, trailing down your jaw and then to your neck. He raises a hand to pull away the neckline of the dress to allow him better access to the apogee of nerves nestled at the point where your shoulder and neck meet. Teeth biting ever so gently that you would have mistaken it as a light graze had you not felt the sharp pinch. It pulls an almost whining sound from your vocal cords, causing your head to tilt to allow him more space to roam. 

Lips curling into a smile as he pulls away, his hand sliding from the table to your arm, then raising and gently pulling at your hair, “You didn’t answer me.” 

“God, fuck, no it doesn’t bother me,” you trap his lips in yours, tilting your head up so the orange glow of the street lamps outside shine into your eyes before you shut them, finding yourself lost in the entity of your lover. The slowest ministrations of your hips trying to roll against his, to seek out friction and closeness and the yearning of him to once again be a part of you, “Wonwoo.” Your tone is darker, needier, wanting as he presses his clothed self flush against you. 

A huff of air escaping you as he once again pulls his lips away from you, and then the gentle rolling of his hips against yours ceases as well. Eyes opening to find him looking over you, not scrutinizing, it seems as if he was rather admiring the picture that sat before him.

Head tilting, the presence of desire absent for a moment as he muses, “I think it looks amazing.” He hums as he lowers himself to his knees, somehow the softness of his voice makes you want to comply with every word uttered, “Can you sit on the table for me?”

Hands brushing against tulle and satin and a plethora of other fabrics you could care less about at this moment in time as you find your hold on the table as you move to sit atop its surface, your heeled shoes clattering to the floor as you do so. Wonwoo’s fingers caress your calves as he leans himself closer to your core, his warm breath making your mind conjure some of the most unspeakable thoughts. 

“I’ll have to let the designer know he did an amazing job,” you smile, involuntarily shivering as he slides his hands upwards, the hem of your dress inching towards your stomach the further he ascends. 

His face merely inches from your core now, your hips squirming at the proximity. “I think he’d be appreciative of the feedback,” Wonwoo smiles, his face now obscured from vision due to the collection of fabric, you have half a mind to tear it off of you, not that you ever realistically would. It’s far too precious. 

The rip of fabric, the coolness of the air hitting your now exposed sex, you whine in protest as he begins to slide the now torn fabric of your underwear away from you. 

“I’ll get you some more,” his right hand hovers over you, he uses his middle finger to swipe up the length of your slit, causing you to draw in a sharp breath. 

“Are you a lingerie atelier now— Fuck,” you begin to joke before he begins to tease your clit with the tip of his finger. He moves his middle finger slowly, languidly as he draws deep breaths and stifled moans from your lips.

After a moment, your own hand moves to your breast, trying to fondle the flesh through several layers of fabric. He changes his approach, moving lover to tease your entrance before he slips his finger inside of you and with a moan you roll your hips to try and meet him halfway. 

It’s not until he eases in another finger and begins to slowly draw them in and out of you as well as latch his lips to your clit that your vocalizations rise in volume. The digits curl inside of you, his tongue swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves and your head finds itself lost in the euphoria of the moment, your hand falling away from your breast to find itself running through Wonwoo’s locks. He hums against you as your fingers tighten their hold, nearly sending you over the edge.

“Are you close?” You look at him, lips coated with the sheen of you, a tinge to his voice that straddles between curiosity and a carnal question. 

Hand moving from his hair to his cheek you can only nod, trying to roll your hips to the increasing speed of his fingers inside of you. His eyes watching you as you do finally reach your climax, chortled breaths escaping you as well as a slew of incoherent words and his name. Wonwoo can feel the way your walls spasm around his fingers and sighs to himself as he pulls them from you, wishing that it had been more than just his digits that had made you cum.

You sit up, a little dazed and a lot more aroused than you were when you’d first stepped into the apartment. Wonwoo rises to greet you, your lips clash together and you can taste yourself on his tongue as you vie for dominance. 

“Switch with me?” You ask, parting for air, voice whispering as your hands move to once again toy with the hem of his collared shirt.

And he does, backing away from you enough so you can land your feet on the floor and trade places with him. Your turn to take control for a moment, you feel the hardness of his cock through his pants as you tentatively palm it, trying to elicit some sort of sound from him. 

“Come on, Woo, I know you’ve got it in you,” you tease, running your hand up and down the etching of his member, slowly and meticulously trying to draw him out of his shell. 

“Have what—” he cuts himself off as you run your fingers over his cockhead, a low groan as if he hadn’t wanted you to hear it. 

“Have that,” you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The taste of salt greeting you, the sheen of sweat on his face glittering in the lights dimly illuminating his apartment. You fall to your knees, sending shivers down your spine as the cool air that balloons the skirt of your dress as your knees hit the floor with a dull thud. Hands sliding up his thighs, you move to his belt to hastily unfasten it.

It falls away, as do his pants and underwear, you were going to mention the lack of cartoon characters adorning it, but you were too preoccupied taking him into your mouth to comment. 

Tongue running over the slit on his head, it draws the sweetest sounds from him, saccharine-like honey that drips from his moans and rings around your ears. His hand running through his hair, his other gripping the table as he tries to stop himself from bucking into your mouth as you take him further. 

Your knees ache from the rough floor, the pain not deterrent enough for you to forget about the wetness between your legs. Fidgeting as your head bobs up and down on his length, you don’t think he takes notice. Yet Wonwoo was more perceptive than he let on at times, considering his hand now rests upon your hollowing cheek. 

“Get up,” Wonwoo urges, his voice hoarse as he tries to gently nudge you away from his cock. “I want to cum inside of you.” When you do let him leave your mouth, a thin line of spittle trailing from his head to your lips you hear him sigh out again. It was so easy to get a reaction out of him, he almost feels like putty in the palm of your hand. 

The indents from the wood settle into the flesh of your thighs as he helps you stand and lightly pushes you back onto the table. His belt clattering onto the floor as he fully kicks off his pants, his shoes, and briefs. 

You wonder at this point if you should take off the dress, but as your hand begins to reach for the zipper, he stops you, “No, keep it on.”

He kisses you again, taking his hands to gently pry your legs open so he can align himself with your core. Lips parting, you feel his cock brush up against your entrance before he pushes himself into you, his hands moving to trail up the sides of your legs. Slowly, feeling every inch enveloping him as his fingers tighten their hold on the skin of your hips. 

“Fuck,” he moans, fully sheathing himself inside of you. His brown eyes meeting yours, tongue darting out to wetten his lips, “Do you need a minute?”

When you shake your head no you fully expect him to start rutting into you with reckless abandon as he did most nights you stayed together. But he doesn’t, instead he starts to roll his hips into you, not trying to fuck the life out of you, rather trying to gauge how and what made you feel good.

“Woo,” you mutter with half-lidded eyes, hands trailing up his arms and to his shoulders, your nails digging into the now exposed skin. It was sure to leave marks, but only small crescent moons that would fade away come morning. 

It’s whispered ‘I love you’s’ that fall from his lips as your forearms wrap around his neck to pull you up and draw him in closer, a thrumming in your chest each time he says it. And you repeat it back to the best of your ability, to find a constancy in him that hadn’t ever made itself presentable to you in a lover or significant other before. 

For a moment you’re able to lose yourself in him, to forget that he’d be leaving you soon and your heart along with it. You’re enveloped in the presence of him and you wouldn’t have it any other way, you wouldn’t let it be any other way. 

Wonwoo’s thrusts become more sporadic as he reaches his end, one of his hands leaving your side and moving to your clit to try and bring you over with him one more time. You’re sensitive and strung out on him, legs tensing as they try to close, stopping around his waist as you press your forehead to his shoulder. 

He cums with little warning, other than his hand moving from your clit and back to your side as he stills himself within you. The sweat collected on both of your bows intermingles when he presses his forehead against yours. His breathing slows as he regains his composer, kissing you as he slides himself out of you. When he pulls away to slide on his briefs you land your feet on the ground with shaky legs, holding the edge to balance yourself.

Wonwoo turns back to you and almost has to stifle a short laugh, your face contorting to the feel of his essence leaving you, it’s strange but not overtly bad. Just not something you’re fully accustomed to.

“Let’s wash up, hm?” Hand taking yours, he leads you to his small bedroom, only stopping midway so he can help you out of your clothes. He unzips the dress, the cool air of his apartment fully encasing you as he pulls the fabric off your shoulders. You feel his lips press a soft kiss onto the nape of your neck and he catches the scent of the perfume you’d applied earlier in the evening. The dress falls, pooling at your feet and you step from its depths and onto the hardwood floor. Before you’re able to reach for the dress, Wonwoo’s swept it up, already moving to hang it in his closet. 

The two of you shower together, reminiscing on a handful of occasions with him that you’d fully devoted to memory but also of the future as well. Wonwoo was excited to leave, every mention of it fractalizing your heart just a little bit more, not that you’d let him know, you just put on a smile and tell him how happy you are for him.

You borrow a shirt from him to wear to bed, exiting the bathroom while he brushes his teeth and combs his hair. While he does, you wander his room, looking at the shelves that adorn the space. Most books atop them are about tailoring or sewing, things that wouldn’t typically draw your attention. You then spot a few that are familiar, the bindings nostalgic under your fingertips as you trace them, no names or words that address their titles.

“I never realized I made you so many,” You muse, looking at Wonwoo who’s just exited the bathroom.

“I have been your loyal customer for a while now, you know.” He notes, falling into his bed and collecting the blankets, he pats the mattress beside him to beckon you closer. 

You fall back into the bed beside him after you saunter over, encased in the blankets for a moment by the duvet he tosses atop you before you look at him, “I don’t want you to go.” It’s a simple statement that carries all too much weight for those six words alone, they lie heavily in your chest, saying them aloud does nothing to stop that. 

“I know, I know,” There’s a hurt in his voice as he knows just how difficult it’ll be to part from you. “We’ve still got almost two months left before I go though, let’s try to make the most of it, okay?”

1965, Summer It had only been a month since Wonwoo landed in Paris. His French is awful, and he only knows how to call things pretty, cute or something lewder thanks to the teachings of his fellow apprentices. There are bags under his eyes from another sleepless night, a cigarette hanging from his lips (a terrible habit he’s picked up as of late), and the mute sounds of some song playing out of the bar he’d just crawled out of. It’s probably Bridget Bardot but he can’t tell from his position, not that he can understand anyway, he’s barely been able to comprehend his own thoughts.

His fingers ache, only nude bandages that are a little too pink wrapped around them because he can’t find the cartoon ones that you’d given him tucked away in his things. His eyes feel strained, tired, and pulsing from overanalyzing stitching and searching cloth for tears, pulls or other impurities. Montmartre was beautiful, not that he was able to see it often as he was constantly working. And if he wasn’t working, he was probably trying to catch up on lost rest.

This was his dream, a part of it though, the other half had you somewhere tucked away in the echelons of his fantasy life. Although he was doing what he wanted, what he loved, there was something about you being in absentia that had him feeling empty. He’d written countless letters but only signed and sent a handful, worried of saying too much and worried of saying too little. To you and his father, his father that had sent him on this path at a young age. ‘Make something of yourself,’ he’d said when Wonwoo was seven, ‘you’re too ambitious not to.’

If he could laugh at him now, he would. But his father was an ocean away, retreated somewhere in the depths of Wonwoo’s childhood that he’d rather leave behind. 

Yet on the other hand, he’d written you what felt like every day and struggled with each composition. Wonwoo had never missed someone’s voice as much as yours, the gentle feel of your hand intertwined with his or even the sounds of your footsteps trailing through your shop. He’s supposed to be happy, why isn’t he happy?

The cigarette burns, the acrid smoke filtering into his mouth as he inhales, a plume of what’s left leaving him when he huffs out, the cigarette dropped onto the ground, smoldering away. Hand flitting through his knotted locks, the dampness of sweat clinging to the pads of his fingertips as he brushes over his brow. 

Most people had dropped everything to work under Jeonghan, a certified maestro of their craft. And Wonwoo had dropped everything, not begrudgingly at first, but as the dog days of the beginning of summer and the end of spring drew near there was a rising anxiety within his chest. If you had asked him not to leave as he was standing at the terminal’s gates, he probably wouldn’t have gone at all. 

He’s been giving up more and more lately; sleep, adequate meals, a solitary living space. Wonwoo’s worried when this serpent of work will seek out to devour you away too. It’s not that he wants to let you go, but if he’s to make something of himself he might have to, as cruel and malicious it may seem. In that you waiting for him was burdensome, not to him but to yourself. While he’s off gallivanting in an ancient city you’re in your shop, was he just supposed to expect you to idly sit by and wait for him? He’s not sadistic enough to tether you down to the unknown.  

1965, Late Autumn. You’d come home that morning with a new record tucked under your arm, the words ‘Rubber Soul’ peeking over the paper sheath that the store had given you as you set it down on your countertop after discarding your shoes and jacket by the door. You hum to yourself, shedding your bag, reaching for the new record, and bringing it over to your player, Sooyoung’s worn copy of one of Billie Holiday’s albums resting on the platter. With gentle hands you remove it from the spindle, tucking it away in its cover before releasing Rubber Soul from its own and setting it onto the player. System turned on, you place the needle on the record and adjust the volume so the first few riffs of ‘Drive My Car’ begin playing through the speakers. 

Nodding your head to the rhythm, you set down the cover and make your way to the kitchen, noticing the small pile of postcards and letters you’d received from Wonwoo over the last few months. He’d been so busy he hadn’t really had the time to call or write a lot for that matter. But it wasn’t like calling was free, especially an international connection. With each new card that he sent to you, there seemed to be less that he wrote of and more empty space adorning it. 

“Hey,” You hear Sooyoung say as she exits her room, her purse in hand as she heads to the hall tree to grab a coat, “I’ve gotta head in, someone completely ruined the display for the winter collection.”

“I thought you were in charge of that?” A tilt of your head as she passes by. Sooyoung’s one of the floor managers of the flagship B. Altman some blocks away, and that left her unnecessarily stressed by the minute details of the store. 

“I am, but I let one of the new girls try and set it up,” a frown as she opens the door, “That’s what I get for trying to take on a protegee. I’ll be back around dinnertime, okay?” 

“I’ll see you then,” waving her off with a hand as the door slams shut, the sound of your friend’s key locking the door before the apartment falls into silence once more, the only sound coming from the next song on the vinyl. 

Stifling a yawn with your hand you head to the living room, plopping down onto the sofa as you reach for a magazine atop the table. It was one of your roommate’s detailing a plethora of fashion information, this seemed something like Wonwoo could take to more so than yourself. Before you’re able to get lost in the pit of missing him again the phone on the table next to the sofa begins to ring. 

“Hello?” Magazine tossed aside, you reach for the phone, pulling it to your ear as you lay reclined on the couch. Fully expecting a family member or one of Sooyoung’s friends over the line you sound a little more crass than normal.

“Whoa,” a familiar, achingly distant voice calls out, “Did I do something wrong?” 

“Wonwoo?” Eyes widening, your grip on the phone tightening before your brow furrows and you sit up, “Where are you?”

“I’m actually in a phone booth outside of Jeonghan’s shop right now,” A short laugh, there’s something quiet about it, “I feel like I’m in some sort of film.”

“It sure sounds like you are,” distancing yourself from the line for a moment as the connection pops and crackles. Ear returning to the phone you feel your heart swell as you lean against your wall, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He sounds apprehensive, as if there’s something ruminating behind his lips, but he was too afraid to say it. “I’m sorry for not calling sooner, it’s just been extremely busy here.”

Twirling the phone cord absentmindedly with your finger you shake your head, not that he could see you, “It’s alright.” The disquiet in his voice puts you on edge, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve been thinking,” He’s holding his breath, and you don’t realize that you are too.

“Of?”

“Ending this. Us.” There’s a pause, a bated breath, and a clearing of his throat before he begins to speak again. It sounds robotic, rehearsed, even. “I don’t want to leave you waiting for me when I don’t even know when I’ll be back.”

“If you don’t think I’d wait for you you’re ridiculous,” A confused tone to your voice, you blink several times as if that were the cure-all to comprehend what he was suggesting. “Is there someone else?”

“God, no, of course not. It’s just—” A break in the facade for a moment before it turns static again, “You deserve constancy. I don’t want you waiting around for me when you could be happier somewhere else with someone else who’s actually there for you.” 

“Are you serious?” With the thought of him being an ocean away you could barely go as kicking and screaming as you wanted to, but you can’t. It’s hard to collect your thoughts with so many jumbling around your head. 

“I’ll get Seungcheol or someone to stop by and get my things,” voice muffled, there was a small banging coming from the other end, as if someone’s hitting the outside of the phone booth that Wonwoo is situated in. 

“No,” you frown, a heavy feeling settling into your stomach. “I’ll drop the dress and your things off at the shop.”

“Keep the dress, it was a gift,” his voice insists, sounding defeated and tired. 

“I don’t want it, I want you, Wonwoo.”

He would rather watch the stars flicker and die from their sepulchered facades in the expanse above, watch the oceans shrivel and continents shrink, than be the source of your privation. It’s as if he can hear your heart break over the line. It isn’t loud, it isn’t ear shattering— it’s a hairline fracture that webs out and settles into every fiber of your being. He knows it because it’s the same thing he’s afflicted upon himself. 

“I’m sorry, I love you but there’s no feasible way that I can—” he pauses, and you hear a voice tinned by the crackling line. It’s French, sounds angry and causes Wonwoo to speak into the phone once more, “I— I have to go. I’ll call you back later so we can talk about this, okay?”

“Okay,” the word is lifeless as it leaves your mouth, you hang up and pull the phone away from your ear as if you could still hear his voice after you’d killed the call. 

You are a bag of bones, skin, and whatever else deigned itself rotted enough to crawl its way inside of you and flourish. Amber leaves looking more titian as you leave your apartment, a muted tone as you walk the streets and to your shop. The lights inside aren’t as bright as they once were, sounds far too muffled by the blood rushing to your ears as Vernon asks you what’s wrong.  

1966, Winter “Try this one,” The bartender standing in front of you sets down another glass. He’d been talking to you on and off the whole night trying to get your opinions on different drinks he’d been concocting to try and get put on the menu.

“What is it?” Amber liquid swirled around what looked like a dried slice of orange. The whiff of something floral and reminiscent of anise hits your nose, causing your face to scrunch. “That’s not straight absinthe and cognac, is it?”

“Cognac Tesseron, Peychaud’s Bitters, simple syrup, and just the smallest taste of absinthe,” Carefully crafted and delicately handled you pick up the glass and observe it some more. “I’m thinking about calling it the Forget Me Not, but we’ll see what management thinks of that name.” Voice tinged with that oddly specific Brooklyn accent he turns to his other clientele, leaving you with the newest cocktail. Lips carefully pressed to the glass you drink, mulling over the flavors as you do so. After thinking about it you set the glass down, lips pursed together, it wasn’t a bad taste you just wished there were more acidic notes to it.

Alone. You sit alone in the dimly lit bar that denoted itself as La Fête. Why, you aren’t sure, but the cacophony of spirits mixed into the glass between your fingers is the only thing that has made you feel well the entire evening. Some comedian stands on the stage a few meters away, giving off a routine that isn’t hitting as well as it should be. There’s muffled laughs and chortles from the audience in front of him, yet you’ve barely heard a word he’s said.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice rings out to your right; you’re unable to see who it is until they take a seat next to you.

“Mr. Hong,” Eyebrows raised as Joshua turns to face you, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen him in a month or so, not after that had happened.

“Vernon told me I could probably find you here, and Sooyoung also told me about trying to cheer you up since the gifts she got you weren’t working,” A smirk playfully bouncing on his lips. “You look awful.” Hands folding atop each other as he adjusts himself in the seat.

“What makes you say that?” Scoffing as you bring your glass to your lips, taking a sip of your drink before setting it back down.

“Vernon did say you were going through something heavy.” His tone lowers, becoming more sympathetic and less lighthearted than it’d been a moment before.

The gentle ambiance of the bar around you, as well as the slew of alcohol in your drink, mellows your inhibitions and voice. It was the calmest you’d felt the entire night. “I just needed a break from all of this,” hand motioning towards your head. 

“I can understand that” Pausing for a moment he opens a nearby menu, perusing the selections. “I just came from a conference in D.C., aren’t you going to ask why?”

“Hmm, why?” You pose, head tilting as you turn to look at him.

“We’re acquiring some major stock in Marriott,” He says with a playful lilt, “Forcing a bunch of bigwigs to give up their assets is an adrenaline rush I won’t get anywhere else but there.”

“Sounds… fun?”

“In reality it’s just a bunch of stuffy old men with their own hands up their asses,” he hums, “Although I guess I have to get used to it; I’ll be one of those men someday.”

“Joshua Hong you will never be like any of those men,” sigh losing itself in your glass as you bring it back to your lips.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” as he closes his menu, he calls the bartender over, ordering some drink that sounds all too extravagant for your taste.

The pair of you sit in silence for a few moments, your glass now set atop the marble bar as your eyes wander around the warm, eclectic interior. “Are you merging them with that Canadian group? I can’t remember their name.” Snapping your fingers together as you try and recall. You look back to Joshua, who was beginning to take a drink of another one of the bartender’s creations.

The glass now moved away, and he frowns into the back of his hand; you wonder if it’s due to the alcohol. Head shaking in the negative he answers, “I actually left that partnership a year or so ago, decided I didn’t want any of ‘Daddy’s Help’ and tried my own hand at it.” Leaning back, he adjusts the lapels of his suit jacket, “And I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I do say so myself.” His confidence is a manic beast at times, but it never fails to make you roll your eyes. “What about you? Gonna commercialize your shop anytime soon?”

“As if,” You snort and look towards the darkened windows of the venue, “I’m perfectly fine in my shop,” Elbow resting on the counter, you lay your cheek atop your hand as your hair falls around your face, looking up at Joshua as your cheeks warm with embarrassment, “It’s all I can manage.”

Joshua laughs, it’s hearty and you feel your pulse rise along with the heat in your cheeks, “Don’t sell yourself short.” Shoulder shrugging, he returns to his drink while you sit up, rubbing your cheek.

“We’ll see when I get there,” smirk showing itself again as his fingers trace circles on the light marble of the bar. “Oh, weird, crazy question really,” His hand moves to his jacket, fumbling around one of the inside pockets for a moment as he searches for something. 

“Want to go to a wedding with me?” A piece of elegantly cut cardstock tossed down onto the bar, you don’t recognize the names scrawled onto the front of it in some pretentious calligraphy.

“Aren’t you dating that girl?” Fingers pulling the card closer, trying to recall the name, “Yoona or something? Why don’t you take her?”

Joshua almost chokes on his water as you speak, hitting his hand against his chest to get some air. “God no,” He coughed, setting his water glass down. “Yoona’s just a family friend, more like my big sister than anything else. If anything, my sister will get married before me.”

You nod your head in understanding, “Ah, is she still dating Seungcheol?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust them to tell me if it was raining outside or not,” he muses. Suddenly his demeanor turns mischievous, you’re not sure how to properly describe it as he leans in towards you, the smirk back with a vengeance. “But why were you interested in who I’m dating? Are you curious?”

It takes most of your willpower to lean back away from him and roll your eyes as you scoff out, “As if.” He only increasingly gets closer before you put a hand on his shoulder and playfully push him back.

“And what about you?” Does he seem nervous? You hear a genuine interest in his voice, but you aren’t sure if you’re exaggerating it due to the miasma of spirits clouding your senses. “Has any prince charming come up and swept you off your feet yet?”

“Does it look like it?” Eyebrow raised, you motion to yourself, “Vernon told you why I’m here, didn’t he?” Frown settling onto your lips you finish your drink, setting it down back onto the bar with an audible clink. 

“He may have mentioned it in passing,” Joshua mutters, finger rubbing along the rim of his glass.

“I haven’t spoken to him in weeks, months even and he has the audacity to send in an order?” You try your best to sound indignant, but the truth was that it’d felt like a stab to your heart to see the hastily signed ‘Wonwoo Jeon’ adorning the invoice. Your heart had almost stopped then, you’d thought that you and he were, at that point, separate entities once more. “He made it blatantly clear he wants nothing to do with me anymore, he can go woo as many Parisians as he’d like, I’m over it.” Not yet, you aren’t. But maybe repeating it enough will make it a reality.

“You know what I think?” Joshua asks, finishing the rest of his drink as you look at your empty glass.

“I’m not drunk enough?”

“I think you’re plenty gone. But I don’t think you’ve ever let anything destroy you this much, or if you have, I’m a terrible friend for not realizing it. And with that being said, I will personally take up the reins to try and get you out of this slump,”

“Any other thoughts, O wise and wonderful mood maker?” 

“Yeah, this comedian’s garbage. I’ll take you to a Lenny Bruce set one day and you’ll laugh your ass off.”

“I appreciate it,” a snicker leaves you. “Anyway,” your eyes move to your watch, checking the time, “I should probably head back to my place, it’s getting late and I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.” You rummage around your bag for a crumpled mess of bills that you toss onto the counter in front of you.

You stand and begin moving towards the exit when Joshua speaks up, “Want me to walk with you?”

“If you want to,” pausing, you turn back to him and offer a smirk of your own, “it’s not too far away.” The two of you walk in silence through the winding interior of the bar as you make your way to the front entrance, you see through the large wooden doors that it is pitch black outside, thankfully the streetlights adorning the sidewalks keep things fairly visible. When the doors open and the two of you step outside you can’t help but let out a “Shit, it got cold.” 

“Here,” Joshua shrugs off his already unbuttoned suit jacket and hands it to you, you can see the thin dress shirt he’s wearing, and you wonder how he’s not shivering himself. “Did you leave your jacket inside?” He asks as you drape the soft fabric over your shoulders.

“At the shop,” Standing outside, your toes on the edge of the sidewalk, your head cranes, trying to remember which way you’d walked here. “It’s…” you look at the signs at the end of the street, “that way,” hand motioning towards your abode once you recognize the names. “It’s about a fifteen-minute walk, I can always call a cab or something, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“It’s alright,” His shoulders shrug as the two of you begin walking, “It’ll help the alcohol get out of your system.” Had he seen you stumbling on your feet on your way out? If he did, he doesn’t say as the two of you walk the uneven streets, pushing through masses of tourists and civilians parading around the city. It’s not long until the crowds wear thin, leaving you, Joshua, and the occasional pedestrian roaming the streets. “I’ve always loved this city,” Joshua muses as the two of you stroll through one of the many parks dotting the town.

Nodding, “It’s lively for sure.” Your hands move to close his jacket tighter around your bare shoulders, “I don’t think I could imagine leaving it.”

“Maybe for a summer home though?” Joshua laughs, moving his hands to his pockets. “I remember how you’d stay inside whenever it snowed or went below thirty when we were kids.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, “I wouldn’t say it’s that much of a problem anymore, I’m just a big fan of the sun in all its glory, not when it’s obscured behind a wall of cl—” Perhaps you would’ve finished that sentence had the heel of your, admittedly too high-heeled shoe not gotten caught between one of the junctures of the sidewalk, causing you to fall forward. You feel a pair of hands on you, one wrapped around your waist and one on your shoulder, as the ground rapidly rises to meet you.

Eyes closed you hear, “Are you alright?” as you’re hoisted back up onto your feet, never feeling the impact of the ground. 

“I’m fine.” Once his hands had left you, you raise your hands to your cheeks, feeling the rushing blood warm your palms, “I guess I’m a little tipsier than I thought.”

Joshua looks at you for a moment, and then down to your feet, “I think you broke a heel.” Finger raised; you follow it downwards to look at the heel almost completely detached from the sole. “Here,” voice quickening as if to distract you from it, he takes your arm and puts it over his shoulder so you can lean some of your weight onto him, “wouldn’t want you to fall over again.” After offering him a quick smile and a small ‘thanks’ of gratitude you begin to walk again.

After a minute or so of walking, the pair of you take a turn onto one of the main drags of the city, the cool air soaking into you. “Do you mind if we stop for a second?” You ask, thinking you may have twisted your ankle when you tripped.

“Of course,” the two of you make your way to a bench along the sidewalk, you sit while Joshua stands next to you. It’s a moment of quiet before he speaks up again, “Are you feeling alright?”

You can only shake your head in the negative, for fear that you may explode should you open your mouth.

“What’s wrong?” He questions, sitting down next to you, his hand falling atop yours in an act of subtle comfort.

Everything. Your throat becomes dry as you lean forward and embrace him, unable to vocalize the horrid deluge of hopelessness and heartbreak washing over you. 

You had seen the shop where Wonwoo was apprenticing when you’d gone into Seungcheol’s one morning, it had been featured in some editorial that he subscribed to. Seeing that it was a beautiful boutique and was quite revered among local and international audiences hadn’t dampened the blow at all. Wonwoo hadn’t been lying when he said it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

It still hurts. You’d been selfish in trying to make things work, too absorbed in it you hadn’t felt him slipping away until it was too late. Vernon had sat you down one day and told you to shape up. Wonwoo wasn’t coming back and the sooner you realized it the sooner you’d get over him. You don’t remember how long you cried into his shoulder for. For the eidolon of him was beginning to fade now, the lingering remnants of it still striking you to the core whenever you catch a glimpse of it.

“I just want to go home,” you try your best to sound strong, hating that the veneer you usually kept was able to slip so easily. Pulling away from the other you move to stand, kicking off your shoes and moving to hold them before you begin to walk.

“Aren’t your feet going to get cold? It’s nearly the middle of winter,�� Joshua calls out after you as he catches up, unsure of how to go about comforting you.

“I’ll be fine,” your toes cold on the concrete, “It’s only a few blocks away.”

It’s silence once more as the pair of you two amble to your apartment, the windows dark when you approach, Sooyoung must be out again. A sigh leaving you, alone again.

“Thanks for walking with me, Shua.” You stop, turning to your accompaniment and smiling softly at him.

“Shua?” His brow raises at that, “Are you sure you’re not still drunk? I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were twelve.”

“Yeah, I know. But I mean it, thank you.” Your other friends had tried to console you but Joshua’s attempt had been the most successful so far that had gotten you to even budge ever so slightly from the slump you’d found yourself in.

1967, Summer. The sparkler hisses as Joshua hands it to you, the bright end flickering with every centimeter the flame engulfs. A smile on your lips as you look at him, an equally bemused smile gracing his face as he steps away and begins handing out sparklers to a few other guests. After the host finishes handing out the sticks a large chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ begins to ring out, directed at Jihoon Lee. 

You didn’t really know the guy, but Joshua said he was hosting a birthday bash at a lake house up in the Catskills this weekend and it was a good excuse to get away from the city for a bit. It was a work friend of his, not sure from which endeavor but you aren’t complaining. Work at the shop had been far too busy to manage with just Vernon and you, you’d been looking at several applicants, but you had a difficult time sifting through the resumes. This was a much needed, and much deserved, break away from it all. 

Before the sparkler has a chance to burn down to your fingertips you blow it out and set it onto one of the porcelain plates atop the table in front of you. A small crowd had gathered to sing and with the rapidly setting sun it was difficult to see familiar faces among the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” A pair of hands placed on your hips as the question sounds out, the familiarity of it making you smile a little brighter.

“Just you,” You turn, looking at Joshua.

“Oh?” He questions, leaning in for a brief kiss before pulling away, “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one that means you’re thinking of something,” A sparkle in his eye, the light from the nearby dock casting a green glow onto the lawn.

“Just work things,” you admit, “Even if I’m miles away from the shop it’s still on my mind.”

“Work’s a sickness, isn’t it?” He mutters, “Well, they’ve already started to cut the cake, want to head in and grab a slice?”

“Sure,” you say as his hands leave your sides, taking one of your hands in his and heading through the lawn and into the brightly lit interior of the home.

“Seungcheol said he’d be arriving a little later, my sister’s ready to blow a gasket but, when isn’t she?” Joshua laughs as you make your way to a nearby table, grabbing a plate with a precut slice of cake on it before turning back to him.

“Is this from the same bakery who made my cake last year?” You ask with nearly a mouthful of cake.

“I told you I made that cake,” he says jokingly, grabbing his own slice, “And if it were, would you say yea or nay for them making the wedding cake?”

“Yea. Definitely, this is by far the best buttercream I’ve ever had,” you nod, “Although I do need a drink.”

“Amaretto sour?” Questioning as he sets down his plate, ready to go off and mix your drink himself.

“You know I can’t,” a frown settling on your lips as you take another bite, “Just water.”

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Joshua says and heads to the bar in the next room over.

You move out of the way of the other partygoers looking for food and make your way to a window that looks out at the road in front of the house. As you watch, you see the bright headlights of a car pulling into the drive, trying to careen past the other vehicles lined up there. It must be Seungcheol.

It’d been a while since you’d last seen him, having to mail his orders to him now that you’d moved shop locations. So, you head to the front door, anxious to see an old friend. The door opens with a swing of grandeur, Seungcheol Choi stepping inside with a clear look of panic on his face.

Seungcheol spots you as he enters, rushing over to you, “She’s not angry, is she?”

“Your wife?” You question, putting a finger under your chin in thought, “She’s only told half of the people here how upset she is, so I think you still have time to save yourself.”

“I’d better get in there then,” he sighs, almost brushing past you before he stops, “I should also tell you that—”

You don’t hear what he says, though. Because you hadn’t realized that there was someone standing behind him until they step through the dark entranceway and into the bright lights of the foyer. For a moment it feels like time has stopped, the plate in your hand straining from the pressure your fingers now exert on it as you lock eyes with someone you hadn’t ever expected to see again.

It’s you who breaks away first, mumbling about needing to find Joshua while it feels as if your heart seizes upon itself in your chest. Before you’re able to rejoin the party, you feel a hand gently grasp your arm, “Can we talk?” The question is quiet, almost lost in the atmosphere of the celebration as Wonwoo asks.

A strangled gulp as you nod, setting the plate down on a small mail-table before you brush past him exit out of the front door. He follows you wordlessly, from the gravel path that wraps around the house and to the backyard that overlooks the lake. You keep walking, wading through grass that comes up to your knees until you’re standing on the wooden dock, the gentle sloshing of water hitting the posts giving you something else to focus on.

Face green in the glow of the dock light overhead, it beams around the soft fog rising from the water as you hope it would swallow you up instead of you having this conversation with Wonwoo. 

“You never returned my calls,” he says, standing several feet away. His tone isn’t accusatory, it sounds hurt.

“I kept forgetting.” Liar. Nails digging into your palms as your hands clench with an anxiety that hadn’t riddled you for two years. “And you only called four times.”

“Five.”

“Four.” Resolution in your voice as you try and stand as firmly as you can. The shoes you’re wearing are pinching your heels and you want nothing more than to kick them off into the water. You turn to look at him, trying to stay calm. “Would you have picked up even if I did call back?” A tangle in your stomach as you recall having Sooyoung answer the phone for the next handful of weeks after the two of you had parted, each time he’d called Sooyoung would say you weren’t home.

He hesitates, at least his body does, the words, “Of course I would have,” escaping him before he could prepare himself with a more eloquent response.  

“You seem to be doing well,” It’s silent until you break it, noting the suit he was wearing was from a higher end retailer.

“So, do you,” a break in his voice as he notices the crack in your demeanor, “I didn’t see you at Seungcheol’s wedding, I thought he would have invited you.”

“My mother got sick, so I missed it,” you recall having to forgo the event last year. Did that mean Wonwoo had been back that soon?

“You still have the dress.” There had been a melancholy deep set into your bones that had lasted for what seemed like lifetimes, now resurfacing more and more the longer you look at him. You’d forgotten about what you were wearing, the same dress that the tailor had labored unknown hours over and that had been the figurative wedge between you and him. Maybe this was some deity’s cruel sense of irony. “I still think it’s one of the best I’ve ever made,” 

“It’s a little tighter now but it’s still one of my favorites,” you can’t lie. Be it from the laborious love that was sewn into every stitch or the bygone memories associated with it, it was and still is one of the best pieces you own.

“I really was an idiot for letting you go, wasn’t I?” Hands shoved into pockets, he’s not sure what to do with himself.

“You did what you had to.” Brow hardening, a remembrance of the last time you’d spoken.

“Don’t say it like that,” a soft plea, he’d never meant to hurt you.

“Then how should I say it?” Bitterness you thought forgotten riddles every word you pose. 

“You know I tried to visit your shop when I first came back,” Deterrent of the conversation, he looks across the water to the distant shore. “But it was empty, some guy passing by had said you packed up months earlier and just left.”

“There was a water main break, ruined most of our inventory and we had to rebuild from scratch in a new place.” You still remember the dread you’d felt that morning, walking in to find everything in shambles.

“With Joshua’s help?”

“Joshua helped.”

“Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” eyes flickering to the ring on your finger, the light of the dock glinting off the main stone. “He’s a lucky man.”

Wonwoo sounds bitter, you can understand why but you can’t understand one thing. “Why did you come? I’m sure that Seungcheol said that I was going to be here.”

“I don’t know.” The answer is simple, but there’s a heaviness to it that you can feel. “I’m supposed to be flying out to Milan tomorrow. I guess I just wanted to see you again.”

“Did you expect me to fall into your arms, Wonwoo? To take you back?” Lip bitten, you’re sure you were going to draw blood if you kept at it any longer.

“Maybe I did when I came back last year, when I’d tried to see you.” He frowns, “I think now I want to make sure you’re happy.”

Happy. It feels as if that word dances off of the water behind you, across the sound and into the forest. Were you? The encroaching despair that had taken aim and marked you when Wonwoo had left was gone, a memory overwritten by the years that had followed, by the people who had followed. The shedding of yourself that came when he left took a while but without a doubt you can truly say this is the most complacent you’ve ever been.

The door to the lake house opens some ways behind Wonwoo, the lights from inside spreading across the lawn in an obscene spotlight on the two of you. A silhouette stands in the doorway, it’s easy to tell who the figure is as he leans against the door frame. You smile as you look at the outline of Joshua, heart swelling as it once had for the other man in front of you.

“Yeah, Wonwoo, I’m happy.”

enjoy what you read? leave a comment! it helps with motivating us writers to keep producing content for our lovely readers ❤

[hiraethwrote]

cw gn!reader but written with f!reader in mind, angst, no comfort, breakup, pining, minor clubbing wc: <1k an i'm on my period which is making me a little emotional, which resulted in this

ex!suguru will never truly be over you, convinced you’re the one that got away.

the breakup was “mutual”, emphasis on the quotation marks — it only meant you guys ended on good terms. it was a very quiet and tender scene. he holds your hands in his, slowly his thumb strokes across your knuckles, never letting his eyes leave your tear stained face.

ex!suguru who, despite disagreeing wholeheartedly with the decision, sees it’s for the best. he will forever hate himself for being unable to see it coming, unable to stop it — one day he suddenly notices how staying in the relationship brought you more turmoil than joy, and he didn't have the heart to hold onto you even though he so desperately wanted to. but he would ruin himself million times over for you

“it’ll be okay,” he says softly, letting himself indulge in the small acts that come so naturally to him one last time before he has to let go, hand reaching up to dry your tears and cupping your cheek. “i’ll be okay.”

with the quiet promise, he feels the stress leave your body and you rest against his touch, a sad smile painting your lips — you’re so beautiful, he thinks.

ex!suguru who lies because he knows it's what you need to hear. you had already stayed longer than you wanted because you didn’t want to hurt him. he wasn’t surprised. you were just so considerate, through and through. he had always thought the relationship was too good to be true anyways, never truly feeling worthy of you

ex!suguru who doesn’t cry, but that is because he feels numb. he can’t remember feeling a pain as intense as this one.

when your tears have stopped, only shy sniffles escaping you, he comes with one last confession. “i’m always going to love you.” he waits, hoping you would say it in return. it isn’t because you don’t love him anymore that you can’t keep going, it’s just because it isn’t working.

“i know,” you say quietly and his heart shatters.

ex!suguru who has his friends fooled because they think he is over the relationship already. he acts the same, eats the same and goes about his business the same — but that’s because it doesn’t concern anyone other than the two of you.

first weekend as a single man, gojo forces him to go out clubbing with him. he really doesn’t want to, but he can’t give his friend any excuses he will accept.

he hates every moment of it, rudely shutting down anyone that approaches him. no matter how attractive, no matter how charismatic, no matter how willing — they’re not you so what’s the point?

ex!suguru who hates the universe a little more than usual. despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to escape you entirely. and he swears he tries, but you somehow just appear every now and then.

he spots you in the grocery store, doing your daily shopping. he spots you in the line of the coffeehouse, ordering your usual drink (one he knows by heart). he sees you on every feed, posting pictures and updates of your life — you seem happy.

his heart screams for him to surrender to his desires, to approach you and hear your voice again. but he knows better, so after torturing himself by admiring you for a few seconds, he simply turns on his heel and leaves.

ex!suguru who after years still thinks about you as much as the day you left. he has tried to move on, but it feels like a betrayal, even after all this time.

has he healed? sure, a little. life goes on after all. with time he has been reunited with some sense of happiness. however it could never compare to the period of his life where he was so fortunate to be with you.

ex!suguru runs into you after nine years. and not like all the times he has simply noticed you down the street — no, you fully crash into his chest one day while walking out of a bakery.

to say he is surprised is an understatement. he has memorised all the places you used to visit so this exact scenario wouldn’t happen, and this had never been a chain you had set foot in before. but a lot changes in nine years.

“suguru, hi.” your voice is light, a rhythm in it that was not present at the end of your relationship. “wow, crazy running into you. how have you been?”

“good,” he croaks, eyes glued to your face. he still finds you as ethereal as the day you left. he wants to say more, but he is a little unsettled by how at peace you seem to be despite not being with him. “and you?”

it doesn’t go unnoticed how you present yourself as genuinely content with where you are in life. however, suguru goes through the entire heartbreak all over again — he has missed so much of your life. he used to think he would be along side you for every single moment of it. instead he is stood in front of you and feeling as if the walls are closing in on him.

his breath catches when you stretch out your hand to grab his forearm. “it was really great seeing you again,” you muse. it’s probably just wishful thinking, but he believes he hears a sadness in your voice that comes from missing him.

“you too,” he whispers, and you’re gone again.

ex!suguru who eventually comes to terms with just being alone again. before you, he always imagined this was how it would end, not the person made to share his life with someone.

you had obviously made him believe otherwise. with you by his side, waking up next to someone and sharing your meals didn’t seem so silly anymore.

but it turns out he only wanted those things if it was with you.

tags @sad-darksoul ﾉ @madaqueue ﾉ @toadtoru ﾉ @hiraethwa ﾉ @harperluvgojo

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[mi-olaaa]

↳˗ˏˋ Jjk men as your babydaddy. ˊˎ˗ ↴

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Gojo Satoru.. ☆ ˊˎ˗

• He is so clingy, it’s almost sickening— y’all might’ve broken up, but to him? That don’t matter.

• You don’t know what a moment of peace is anymore, as soon two found out you were pregnant, he was ON it.

• Doctor��s appointments? He’s there. Shopping trips? He’s there. Whether it’s you resting at home and he’s caressing your belly, or you in the bed taking a nap. Gojo is there.

• What Gojo lacks in personal space he makes up for with how much he absolutely spoils and dotes on you. Whatever you want. Baby clothes, random pregnancy gadgets, even maternity clothes and stuff unrelated to pregnancy, you have it.

• About you two breaking up? Like I said it doesn’t matter, Gojo is literally there everyday almost, helping you out with everything, all the heavy lifting you can’t do at a certain point in your pregnancy, setting up the nursery, fucking you so good when your hormones become too much, and plenty other things to take care of the mama to be.

• Most importantly of all, when your bundle of joy was born, he was there, holding your hand through it all, ready to meet his baby with you.

Toji Fushiguro..☆ ˊˎ˗

• Toji honestly.. He’s not the best, but yk.. He’s definitely something.

• The whole reason you two broke up is because of you getting pregnant, he couldn’t handle it, literally, he walked out on you.

• He didn’t come back for a long ass time, you were only a month away from giving birth when he finally decided to accept the fact that he was a father again.

• He’s still the same asshole you know, but a little sweeter, but only because he felt guilty. Goes to a couple of the last appointments, and was there when the gender was found out.

• Gives you your space when you asks, understands that you are definitely still mad at him, but he looks absolutely adorable in the pictures you take of him and the baby.

• Sees the child every time on his visitation, one rare time he doesn’t, had to do another job. Other than that.. I mean idk, he could lean more the shitty bd at times, but he has his good moments too.

Nanami Kento..☆ ˊˎ˗

• When you found out you were pregnant, he was over the MOON. I mean, this man was crying, but not bawling his eyes out 😭

• Was talking so much shit about being a girl dad, while you thought it would be a boy. He won.

• Always says something along the lines of ‘my girls’. Always. He still has love for you definitely, and respects any boundaries you have, but yo’ ass was definitely testing how much self control he had some days.

• Turns out he had a pretty good amount of control to respect said boundaries, but it wasn’t until you FaceTimed him one night on that pregnancy hormone shit— Horny and leaking? How could he not take care of you?

• Whew shit y’all. If you weren’t already pregnant, you definitely would’ve been now. He put that WORK in. (He made gentle, intimate love to you, he’s too much of a loverboy to do anything else frfr (at least while you’re pregnant))

• Kento was there when you gave birth, and afterwards to help you with postpartum, mans is so obviously in love with you. SNEAK ATTACK— he proposes to you, and you quite literally woke up from a nap, holding your baby girl. You said yes. You said yes right? YOU BETTER HAD SAID YES MF HE IS SUCH A CUTIE PATOOTIE

Choso Kamo.. ☆ ˊˎ˗

• Honestly for the both of you, those nine months were a blur, he was there, partially out of curiosity though. 😭

• You had twins! Two little chubby cheek babies, one a girl, and one a boy.

• Choso doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he’s trying y’all. He took almost an hour when he changed them for the first time, and cried because the babies were crying and he thought they must’ve been mad at him.

• always has the twins in those cute ass lil fuzzy animal onesies, his favorite to put them in are the shark ones. And he sends you pictures of them of course!

• Loves his kids to death and literally cannot process through his day without seeing them at least once. He might have some slight feelings for you, but pushes them down in respect of trying not to make a disruptive home life for the kids (is literally just convinced if you two get back together you will break up again and yeah..)

Suguru Geto.. ☆ ˊˎ˗

• Girl dad. I mean, he already had Mimiko and Nanako, ofc he’s a girl dad, don’t matter if they adopted frfr. Did i mention he’s a girl dad? HE IS A GIRL DAD. BOWS IN HIS HAIR, STICKERS AND ALL.

• Sucks ass at changing diapers tho, sorry y’all, we can’t all be great. His baby got that luscious hair from her daddy, blame him for heartburn.

• You two broke up? He dgaf about that! Literally js be all up in ya damn house, but honestly, if he wasn’t on the day your water broke, you would’ve been giving birth in the shower— so be thankful I guess? 😭

• He dotes on you, makes late night target runs for the random shit you crave, be tired asf, but anything for you pookie 🫶🏾, especially since you’re carrying his child.

• Mimiko and Nanako love the child too, tbf it’s a baby, who wouldn’t? Take their little sister shopping mf 😭 playing at the park when she’s older, and babysit too.

• Geto could be busy at some point, but when he is, he makes sure to see his kid once a week. He is such a cutie patootie with his skrunkly ass baby, you can’t help but take photos when you can.

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Authors note: honestly ion got nun to say 🤷🏾‍♀️ except for #girldadnanami2024‼️

‘IGHT BYEE 🫶🏾

[bbokicidal]

OBSESSED with your work, as a 5 foot tall girl I would love to hear your thoughts on casual dominance and size kink for Seungmin if possible both sfw and nsfw

thank you darling, omg!! NSFW head canons are under the break in text!

warnings : kind of Mean Dom!Seungmin, oops I can't get away from it

Size Difference w/ Seungmin

Tall BF!Seungmin who thinks that you being so much shorter than him is so, so cute. He's obsessed with how tiny you are compared to him.

Tall BF!Seungmin who does the cliche where he compares your hand sizes. He loves finding new ways to point out how much bigger he is than you, comparing his hand to yours before lacing your fingers together with a giggly smile.

Tall BF!Seungmin who will do everything he can to make your life easier. Grabbing things that are high up? He's got you. Carrying bags from shopping because they're a bit heavier? He's by your side, arm ready. Helping you in and out of cars that sit higher up? He's offering you his hands before you can even unbuckle.

Tall BF!Seungmin who also uses his height as an advantage to protect you. If you've got beef with someone, he'll be standing right behind you staring them down with a threatening glint in his eye and his arms crossed tight over his chest.

Tall BF!Seungmin who thinks his heart is going to explode each time he sees that sometimes when you sit on taller chairs or sit fully back on couches, your feet don't touch the floor. He has to turn away and keep himself composed every time he notices it.

Tall BF!Seungmin who adores seeing you in his clothing because it's so long on you - no matter what size you wear compared to him, it's always long and draped on your curves and he looooooves it.

Tall BF!Seungmin who also mocks and teases you often for your height - in a loving way of course. He loves stealing your phone and holding it up where you can't reach, or bending down at the waist dramatically to kiss you until you slap him to fix his posture.

Tall BF!Seungmin who uses his size to his advantage in bed. Absolutely, are you kidding? He's going to be using that intimidation tactic where he stares you down in the bedroom as well just to assert his dominance.

Tall BF!Seungmin who makes sure - first off - that you know he absolutely would not hurt you in any way unless you asked to be tossed around a little or spanked or something of the likes. He sits down with you to make sure, before you two do anything sexual, that if you ever feel unsafe you have to tell him.

Tall BF!Seungmin who, after that, absolutely goes feral over you. He loves how small you are and how he can easily pin you down or push you onto the bed. He loves, especially, when you ask him or let him toss you onto the bed like a rag doll.

Tall BF!Seungmin who relishes in the dominance in general, and then when you add his fucking size kink to it??? God, he's on cloud nine with you. He's smitten with the idea of having so much power over you because of how much taller he is.

Tall BF!Seungmin who nearly nuts when he sees how his hands hold onto your sides. How they grip at your tender flesh, pulling you to him where he kneels on the mattress and how they can wrap around you so easily; How he can just tug a little and you'll come tumbling towards him. You're so easy to maneuver.

Tall BF!Seungmin who has a favorite position - that being doggy, of course. And with you being so small compared to him, he's - God, again, in Heaven. He's twisting his hand in your hair and then tugging taught to keep your head tipped back as he pounds into you from behind in deep strokes. He's quiet during sex, the only sounds other than your moans being his shaky breath breathing at the sight of you looking so.. small on the mattress.

Tall BF!Seungmin who finds it incredibly easy to hold you up during sex, whether it be tugging your hips into his hold to angle you better or fully pinning you to the wall and holding you up so he can fuck up into you.

Tall BF!Seungmin who also uses his intimidating height while you're beneath him. Not only does he actually tower over you during sex but even when he leans down to cage you in between his arms, his shoulders are broad enough to completely shadow you and make you feel not only safe but also trapped.

Tall BF!Seungmin who loves being able to look down on you when you suck his cock. He's basking in the feeling of being so much bigger than you, seeing your hands wrapping around his base and your mouth working him with a bit of struggle, because he's packing at least seven inches no one can tell me otherwise.

all BF!Seungmin who always sneaks his hand onto your tummy to feel the way his cock bulges against your gummy walls. He loves the feeling wayyyyy too much. <3

Bonus :

Tall BF!Seungmin who asks if you would be open to maybe being towered over in the bedroom by two guys instead of one - all while Hyunjin is on his way over for a movie night.

[pinkcarnatixns]

leah williamson | training wheels

synopsis your plan for a romantic date goes downhill when your girlfriend admits she doesn't know how to ride a bike [2.1K] contents pouty! leah, slight injury, slightly suggestive

You really thought that your girlfriend would be blown away by your plans for a romantic date, but you apparently had made a quite significant miscalculation. 

Leah, constantly one to sweep you off your feet, had organized a sweet weekend getaway to Amsterdam for your six month anniversary. Since joining the club and hitting it off with the blonde, you hadn’t had much time to explore around Europe like you’d hoped when you first decided to make the move. With the way she hung onto your every word, Leah had clearly remembered this small detail and planned an extremely thoughtful getaway around it, surprising you with the plane tickets after training one day. 

You were nearly drunk on the amount of affection you felt for the girl, having been sufficiently pampered with the amount of plans she had made for the two of you. The day before, Leah had arranged a walking tour of the city which, wanting to stay in her own little bubble with you- was guided by the overexcited girl herself. Judging by the exasperated texts you received from a certain Dutch striker afterwards, it seemed that she had really gone all out to impress you, even if it meant she was never allowed to ask Viv a question again. If you hadn’t been completely gone for her by that point, you had arrived back to your beautiful hotel room just to see a new dress and heels laid out on your bed, before you were promptly shooed off to get ready. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom that had turned into your holding cell at her insistence, you were pleasantly surprised by the sight of your girlfriend in a suit you had picked out for her during one of your first ‘dates.’ She had been so nervous then, and desperate for an excuse to see you away from your teammates’ teasing remarks, using the excuse of an upcoming event to have you go shopping together. You never did get to see her in it, and when you had started dating, she claimed that it was too precious and had to be used for an incredibly important event. 

Apparently, she had deemed her surprise dinner date a special enough occasion, almost missing the reservation due to your appreciation of her attire. After hours of giggling over an expensive bottle of wine and being kindly told to wrap it up by staff, both your stomach and heart were completely full. Stumbling around in the streets hand-in-hand, entirely too dressed up while looking for ice cream with her jacket hugging your shoulders, you could have died happy.

So, after finally collapsing for the night and drifting on cloud nine, you decided you wanted to return the favor somewhat- to make her swoon for once. With a free day tomorrow, and her snoring softly in your ear with your head pillowed by her arm, you sneakily turned your phone brightness down and hatched your plan. 

In the morning, even though Leah took so much coaxing to get out of bed that your lips were sore, you had succeeded in getting her dressed and out the door. Not one to enjoy being out of the know, she had attempted many sneaky glances at your navigation app, receiving warning glances every time she tried to distract you from your mission. As you approached, you gave her a deceivingly sweet smile, immediately making her suspicious. “Love, you’re being quite cryptic and we’ve gotten pretty rural. Do I really treat you so badly you’ve taken me to the Dutch countryside to kill me?”

“Leah! Where’s your sense of adventure?” You pout at her with hands on your hips, determined to have your dream realized. “Now can you close your eyes please?”

“Oh, this is really the end for me now. Tell my mum I love her.” She sasses back at you, but does as you say anyhow, putting her hands over her eyes for emphasis. You mock her accent and pouty tone under your breath, but delicately guide her by the crook of her elbow, taking care that she doesn’t trip over anything. 

She lets you lead her, careful to keep her eyes shut to avoid upsetting you and whatever has gotten you so excited. You firmly tell her to stay where she is and reinforce that she needs to keep her eyes shut before she hears your steps walk off. She worries you’ve gone and left her abandoned there before she makes out your voice talking to someone quietly, curious at the clanging that follows the conversation. Relieved at the warmth of your hands returning to her, you slowly take her hands away from her eyes. “I’m going to count down! Stay here- ” She hears you scurry off and at your prompt, opens her eyes, letting them adjust to the sunny day. 

“Ta-da!!” Her eyes focus on you, before dragging over to what you’re gesturing excitedly to. Hand gestures highlighting two bikes- fuck. Her face goes completely red as you prattle on, “We’ll be so cute! And this path up here goes just past some pretty tulip fields, we can stop and have a picnic!” 

Silently and not quite meeting your gaze, she grabs one of the bikes by the handlebars and starts walking it past the stand where you had rented them- nodding in thanks to the old man running it. This leaves you completely confused, and you jog your bike over to where she’s walked off, “Is it horribly cheesy? Do you hate it? I’m sorry I just wanted to do something for you because-” 

Once out of range of the little bike stand, she whips around to face you and mumbles something under her breath, only making eye contact with her feet. You tilt your head questioningly, prompting her to try again, and she rushes out “‘m not good at riding bikes.”

As you take a second to actually process her fast words, it’s your turn to be embarrassed, “Leah! You’ve never told me you don’t know how to ride a bike? I dragged you all the way out here trying to be romantic!” 

She kicks around the gravel under her Birkenstocks, like a scolded kid pouting, “It’s embarrassing��” You sigh hard and start to speak before being cut off, “-And I know how to ride one I’m just not good at it!” 

You raise an eyebrow, and she immediately loses the nerve she had built up, averting her eyes again. Having been too determined to give up something you had been so excited for, you knock your kickstand and trudge over to her. “Well get on! We’re going to get your confidence up!” 

She realizes that you’re not giving up anytime soon, losing the battle of puppy-dog eyes that she initiated. You expect her to climb right onto the bike, but instead she also kicks her stand and steps away. You’re ready to protest, expecting that she’s ready to call it a day, but are surprised when she falls into a crouch in front of you. She hastily starts tucking the bottoms of her baggy jeans into her socks and glares up at your shaking form, trying to contain your laugh. “What! You really do want me to die, don’t you? What happened to safety first?”

You shoot her an apologetic glance, still letting some giggles escape as you ruffle her hair. “I’m very flattered that you care so much for some cheap H&M jeans I bought you love, but I think you’re safe. Now stop stalling!”

She shoots you a wary glance, but regardless stands and kicks her leg back over the bike, getting into position. “Now! The hardest part is just getting started and righting your balance so I’ll give you a little push!” 

Leaving her side to stand over the back wheel, you grab her hips to steady her as she places her foot on one of the pedals. She stiffens slightly and shoots you a wink over her shoulder at the new position, “Well miss cheeky! I bet this was your plan all along wasn’t it?”

At her teasing, you slightly lean her over to the side she isn’t resting on, crumbling her confidence and setting off her balance- her face paling immediately. “Hey! This is no way to treat someone who is greatly humoring you right now! We could’ve been having a grand old time back in our hotel room at this time!” 

“Sorry sorry! Just focus!” You giggle and feel your face get a bit hot at the implications of her words before continuing. “Okay you’re gonna sit up, look up-” She follows your words, and with a hard push from you, “And pedal!” 

She wobbles a bit, clearly panicking and forgetting to actually pedal, having to put her feet back down to stop herself from completely toppling over. Catching her breath, she exasperates. “This is horrible! Who does this for fun? Psychopaths?” 

You try terribly hard not to laugh at her, but she’s just so cute and frustrated that you can't help yourself, shooting her a big smile at her withering glance. You really do appreciate that she’s trying for you, and lean up to give her a big, exaggerated kiss on the cheek with some words of encouragement. “You really almost had it baby! Just have to breathe and pedal, momentum helps a lot! Now come on, one more time, I’ve got you.”

She nearly hops off, and you rush to praise her so that she keeps at it, “You really are so brave lovie! I nearly had to be shipped off to the hospital when I was being taught!” She puffs up a little at the praise, and so you give her a proper kiss and continue, “My fearless, beautiful girlfriend!-”

“Alright alright, one more time but that is it! I don’t like making a fool of myself.” She backs up a little bit, ready to start again and clearly psyching herself up in her head. This time you’re stationed next to her, holding her handlebar with one hand and the seat cushion with the other. She glares down at the bike like it’s personally out to get her as you count her off, kissing her on the cheek and propelling her forward with all your strength on one. 

She gets some really good speed at your push, but once again forgets she needs to do the rest, righting her error as you yell desperately, “Pedal!” 

She starts really getting the hang of it with minimal swerving, and you whoop excitedly as she actually manages to turn the bike around and head back towards you, complete with a smug smirk on her face as she passes you. 

However, her pride doesn’t last for long enough as her eyes are still glued to you and not on the rock in her way. Before you can warn her, she’s crashing to the ground and you rush over to her deflated form. Luckily, her football instincts had clearly kicked in and she had landed with no injuries, bar some scrapes on her face and hand. You know you’re really in for it at the familiar frown you receive as you help her up. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The door chime indicating your exit from the small convenience store, you walk over to your poor girlfriend’s pathetic form, a cup of ice in one hand and box of plasters in the other. Sitting on the rough wood of the bench, she allows you to coo over her as you patch her up and hold ice over her thrumming wounds. 

You hold her hand in silence, laying your head on her shoulder as you sit side-by-side, watching the sun set over the beautiful tulip fields. You tear up a little bit, emotional at the view and that you were the cause of your girlfriend’s wounds, your plans slightly ruined. You nearly open your mouth to apologize again when she starts, “Thank you for today. I would’ve never thought to just sit outside and enjoy the view like this. And for believing in me, even if it was slightly misplaced.” She chuckles at the last part, placing her head on yours and nuzzling in slightly.  

You giggle at her sincere words, squeezing her hand in yours, reveling in the heat radiating off her accompanied by the comforting smell of her perfume. “All these flowers and you still have my favorite two lips in the world. Speaking of, I think I deserve a proper kiss after my act of courage today.”

You laugh at her horribly cheesy joke, but decide to indulge her anyway, pulling off her shoulder and cradling her poor wounded head in your hands as your lips meet.

a/n: thank u guys so much for the love on my last fic!! also terribly sorry if this doesn't make sense to my dutch friends </3 i am american

++ my reqs are open for more leah fics or for other woso girlies!

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

my pitch for a phineas and ferb-themed ride at the disney parks (hire me disney you cowards)

the queue is an interior building with pnf-themed decorations. kinda like the figment ride in epcot, a lot of it is winding through a "museum" of pnf and/or doof inventions. most of those inventions disappeared of course, so they're models, parts in glass cases, etc. overhead are tv monitors that play a shuffled loop of phineas and ferb songs, but bc there are so many good songs they can use it hopefully won't get repetitive unless you're there for nine hours. the exception to this is one small part of the queue (small to avoid people being stuck there too long) where it exclusively plays the quirky worky song and you see the pnf gang building the ride you're about to go on, either as statues/figures or through a "screen" that shows looping animation

you get onto the coaster car from the first episode as phineas, baljeet or isabella reads the safety spiel over the loudspeaker. actually as i'm typing this it might be fun to loop each of the backyard gang doing their own version that'd be cute

the ride takes off and you hear the vamp from the "rollercoaster" song as you're loading in.

once inside, the ride is styled like epcot's guardians of the galaxy ride, where you're on a track looping through a mix of screens and sets. the first part plays more of the "rollercoaster" song as you run through the "coolest coaster ever" scenes.

miscellaneous room/scene ideas: fireside girl action segment, carpe diem room, obviously a space segment w/ meap and queen candace and the catu aliens, obligatory scary bit through the haunted house, rock concert w/ love handel, backyard beach/atlantis, owca headquarters, 2nd dimension bit (might be too confusing for new fans?), relatively normal area where candace is gesturing wildly to a linda animatronic that won't turn around and see the rollercoaster car, idk a hamster & gretel segment or smth

a little bit in, you hear a beep and a call for agent p. a small animatronic of perry rises from the front of the car as you enter a tunnel, where a screen of major monogram tells perry to get his ass to doofenshmirtz evil incorporated to fight doof. perry salutes and slides back down into the car, and the ride then takes a "wrong track" (kinda like when you run into a "broken track" on everest) to DEI.

we go inside and see animatronics of perry fighting doof as an inator sparks. it goes off, sending us down yet another "wrong track," which shoots through wilder parts of danville. at the climax, we start looping and the climax of the "rollercoaster" song starts playing ("we're rightside-up and upside-down...")

at the end of the ride, we see an animatronic/animation of doof hanging upside-down from rope as perry glares at him cross-armed, and doof intermittently yells "curse you, perry the platypus!" on a screen, monogram congratulates the riders for saving the tri-state area with agent p. perry makes platypus noise.

you go to another room, right before the exit. you see candace pointing to an empty backyard, saying stuff like "but it was right here! and it was huge!" as phineas and ferb sit under the tree and address the guests. if you're far enough away from the last room, perry can be sitting under them being cute.

the exit queue has posters for dwampyverse stuff, like "love handel reunion", "doctor zone: the movie", the og rollercoaster poster, etc.

you exit in a gift shop where you can buy perry the platypus inaction figure (he doesn't do anything!) and big sticks

lastly,

you know when rides break down or stop for a sec and you get in-character voiceovers telling you to stay seated or w/e? i think we should have three that loop: one of doof giving a basic spiel, one of milo murphy being like "yeah i went on the ride. sorry about that. it should start working soon lol" and one where literally the whole thing is candace yelling "NO MOM I SWEAR IT'S A WORKING ROLLERCOASTER AND PHINEAS AND FERB BUILT IT! MOM LISTEN–"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hi Barbie II

Jana Fernández x Vilamala!Reader

Summary: Bruna interrupts

"Oh my god! Hands where I can see them! God!"

Jana jumps out of her skin at her best friend's voice, nearly landing on the floor as you tilt your head back to look at your sister.

"We're cuddling? Can't we cuddle anymore?"

"Not with Jana!" Bruna laughs as Jana's face burns red. "She might just combust! Did you know how many years she's been dreaming about doing this with you? Who knows what will happen?"

"Leave us alone, Bruna," You grouse," What are you even doing here? This is my place."

"Which is another thing," Bruna says as she goes straight into the kitchen to grab some food," You're living in London until the end of the season. Why have you still got this place?"

"The loan isn't long term," You reply," I needed a place to come back to. What about you? You don't even have a key."

Bruna shrugs. "I had one made when I house sat. You're got good sunlight here."

You roll your eyes and turn to look back at Jana. "Sorry, I didn't know she would be stopping by."

"It's okay." Jana's voice is barely above a whisper and her face is still red. The embarrassment seeps into her bones and settles there as she readjusts her position.

This whole afternoon was like something out of the most perfect of daydreams. She'd had the day off from rehab and you weren't needed at Arsenal until next week so you picked her up from her apartment to have lunch.

You went from lunch to the market to a cute coffee shop and then back to your place to mindlessly watch tv as you talked.

Jana has been on cloud nine all day. She can scarcely accept that this was truly her life, that her long-term crush was dating her and you were having nice domestic moments like this.

Trust Bruna to bring her straight back down to earth.

"Don't you have training?" Jana asks and Bruna flashes her a smile.

"Why? Don't you want to see me? Aren't we best friends, Jana?"

Jana can feel her cheeks turn even more red than before (something that she wasn't sure was even possible) as Bruna hops over the back of the sofa and tries to squish her way between you both.

"Hey!" Jana complains as Bruna tries to push her out of the way, shoving her right back in annoyance.

She keeps fighting before breaking off when you throw your head back to laugh. She's star-struck for a moment.

Sun is filtering in through the windows and hitting you just right for it to look like you're glowing and Jana can do nothing but stare even as Bruna keeps swatting at her.

"You're so gross!" She was complaining but Jana isn't listening as she focusses on you.

You're still laughing, head thrown back and you tilt it to make eye contact.

It causes Jana to smile too and you reach over Bruna to grab Jana's hip, pulling her up and over your sister to settle on your lap.

The movement is unexpected but the feeling is nice and Jana feels herself go completely limp as you manoeuvre her the position you want.

Bruna pretends to gag but, thankfully, doesn't comment as she grabs the remote to channel surf.

You don't even glance at her as your whole attention goes to Jana, whose brain has finally caught up with her body when she realises the position that she's in.

Again, Jana thought it was impossible to grow even redder than before but it's like her body doesn't believe in its own limits and her blush grows ever deeper.

You're still smiling at her, eyes never straying, and your hands are still on her hips.

Jana smiles back before growing embarrassed and looking away.

"You're so cute," You whisper, chasing her lips with your own and giving her a soft peck.

You both chance a look at Bruna, who hasn't even noticed, so you steal another and then another.

"Should we get out of here?" You ask," There's this nice coffee place that Ingrid showed me last year."

Jana bites her lap. "And Bruna stays here?"

"Definitely."

"Let's go."

Jana is loath to leave the safety of your hands on her hips but she laces your fingers with hers and suddenly feels settled again.

"Bruna," You call out when you're by the door," Me and Jana are heading out."

"Why? Can't make out with me here?"

You roll your eyes. "No but we might do that when we come back. I'll text you so you can leave in time."

"Ha! As if!"

You shrug and pull Jana through the door, swinging your joined hands. "It's on your head if you see something you don't want to."

[girlboypersonthingy]

valentines day with lucifer pleaseee

YAASSS IM SUCH A LUCIFER SIMP *bangs on table* I love him so much, it’s a problem. Like look at him… 🥹 thanks for the request and ENJOY!

(I don’t own this picture)

Lucifer x reader- Valentine’s Day 🤍

Whether you two have been together for 3 weeks or 3 centuries, he will ask you to be his valentine every. single. year.

Baby boy is such a hopeless romantic I stg

Goes all out too! Would never just get you flowers and chocolates. From the king of hell?! No way. Only the absolute best for his love.

In this case, this is your very first Valentine’s Day together!!! D’AAAWWWWW

You come home/back to the hotel the day before valentines and there’s red and pink balloons every where, rose petals all over the ground, the lights are dim and soft. Very much a romantic movie scene type thing.

“(Y/N)~” Lucifer calls out to you sweetly, softly as he watches you look around at all the new decor.

When he finally has your attention, he holds his gloved hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.

You can’t help but smile as you run to hug him. He laughs softly against you before he pops the question, his arms gently squeezing you against him.

“(Y/N)? Will you be my valentine, sweetheart?” And all you can do is laugh and hold him even closer.

“Oh, Luci~ Of course I will!”

OBVIOUSLY this dork makes you a cool ass duck as a gift. It’s one that really relates to you, has something to do with your looks or personality or an inside joke between the two of you. It’s special just for you 🥹

Def wants to take you on a nice date somewhere. Maybe a fancy restaurant, maybe to a bar, maybe a coffee shop for some caffeine and sweets.

Def asks you what you want to do and leaves the choice to you. He’s fine with whatever as long as he can hold your hand and give you kisses every 2 seconds so often.

DEFINITELY picks you up in a fancy ass car with a chauffeur and champagne and everything!

Whatever you decide to do, he’s sooooo distracted the whole time. There’s so much on his mind rn and it’s all different thoughts about you, most of them innocent 😈

I mean how is he supposed to keep his thoughts 100% clean and innocent when you dressed so nicely for your valentines date and you keep laughing extra loud at his jokes and blushing bright red at every compliment he shoots your way.

Of course he dresses to the nines as well. He looks great in white, don’t get me wrong. But him in a deep red suit with pink accents for valentines?!,!!??!,? PLZ 😍

He also loves the way people stare when you two go out together. Sure, it’s not totally conventional for the king of hell, Lucifer himself, to be so deeply in love with someone of your status but that’s what really bonds you two. It’s not some arrangement or a deal made for your soul or anything besides true love and attraction for each other.

He loves and trusts you so much, you’re so different from everyone else who fights for his attention.

And you’re just thanking your lucky stars, wondering how the hell you pulled him. He’s so perfect omfgggg

He is sure to ask you if everything is to your liking, how you’re feeling, what you want to do next. He’s very observant and considerate.

It’s hard to even eat or drink or whatever you’re trying to focus on bc he keeps staring at you and holding your hand and winking at you Everytime you guys make eye contact.

Don’t get me wrong! He’s lovey dovey and super sweet all the time but on this holiday of romance and love, he’s going 1000 times harder!

He would totally take you back to his house to finish off your romantic evening.

Probably puts on some music and takes off his coat to get more comfy.

Offers you a drink and goes to make it himself, adding some cute little garnish to it just to be fancy for you.

Sits on the couch in the living room with you and keeps his hands on you in some way. Touching your thigh, holding your hand, rubbing your arm or your back.

Proceeds to talk your ear off about everything and anything as his hands roam your body subconsciously.

Luci definitely talks a lot, rambles on and on to you all the time. Hope you’re a good listener ;) he doesnt have many other loved ones to talk to you so you get to hear it all

He talks so much he probably often tells you the same story over and over again. You tell him “Yes, Luci. You told me this already.” with a sweet smile at least once a day.

Tries to kiss you but accidentally bumps his head into yours instead.

Now you’re both laughing so loud, blushing so bright red and can’t maintain eye contact for more than a second or two.

He probably cracks a joke to ease the tension in the room too. And even worse, it’s some lame dad joke or a pun lmaoooo

Leans in again, much slower this time. His eyes flutter shut and he purses his lips as he approaches.

His kiss is scorching hot but so so soft.

Maybe you guys have kissed before, maybe not. But this kiss hits different. Maybe it’s the Valentine’s Day sweetness in the air, maybe it’s because he’s so goofy and silly and comfortable with you all the time, maybe it’s the drinks you’ve had tonight, maybe all three?

But this kiss…is the most passionate you’ve ever shared with him.

[moonstruckme]

Busybody

summary: when Steve notices your anxiety spiraling out of control, he finds his own way to help

cw: anxiety

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’d woken up with some busybody in your chest that you can’t get rid of. 

It feels like you’ve had three cups of coffee despite your four hours of sleep. You’d all but jolted awake, pre-panicked about something that you haven’t identified yet. Something you have to be forgetting, or not assigning enough importance to, surely. And the way you figure it, if your body’s going to freak out at you about being idle, you may as well appease it and hop to. 

By the time Steve cracks an eyelid, you’re thinking about what to make for lunch. Heart never having left your throat, you’ve cleaned the kitchen, baked a blackberry cobbler, tried to read a few pages of your book before giving up for fidgetiness, reorganized your portion of the bathroom cabinet, and begun a grocery list for the week. 

“Morning,” he yawns, leaning against the counter. He’s looking endearingly rumpled, a faint red line on his face from a crease in his pillowcase and his hair pressed flat on the one side. You smile at him as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Smells like fire in here.” 

“Morning! I made a cobbler,” you explain, not mentioning the burnt first attempt that’s smelled up his kitchen despite you opening all the windows. “Do you want some bacon, eggs, and toast for breakfast?”

Steve blinks, eyebrows rising slightly. “Uh, sure. You gonna make me some?” 

“Mhm.” You’re already taking the eggs out of the fridge. “Scrambled?” 

“Yeah. Thanks, babe.” 

“No problem.” You grin, happy to be of use as you whisk his eggs with a fork, turning on two burners of the stove to preheat as you do. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he yawns. “Well, pretty good. Woke up a couple times this morning, but you were already gone. Been up for a while?” 

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” 

Steve nods, frowning. “Sorry, honey. You didn’t get much chance to sleep the night before, either, right?” 

You hum, bacon sizzling when it hits the pan. You put the toast down in the toaster, hoping you’ve timed it right so it’ll still be warm when everything else is done. “Oh, do you want orange juice?” 

“Sure, but I can grab it.” He moves for the cabinet, but you nudge in front of him, too restless to stop moving while everything heats on the stove. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You shoot him a smile as you grab a cup. Steve returns it, but muddled.

“So between last night and the one before, how many hours have you gotten?” 

You shrug. “Not sure.” Nine, give or take. “But I don’t feel tired.” 

“Well, that’s good,” he says slowly, watching as you fill the cup with orange juice before hustling back to the stove, flitting between tasks at something approaching light speed. 

“Hey, so I was thinking,” you go on, flipping the bacon, “do you want to do some Christmas shopping today? I mean, I know you said you’re not thinking about it yet, but it can’t hurt to get a jump on things.” 

Steve yawns again, stretching his back. “Yeah, that sounds okay. Not sure I’d know what to get anyone.” 

You nod a few times. “Maybe you’ll know it when you see it.” Flip the bacon onto a plate, add more pepper to the eggs, put the bacon’s pan in the sink, turn off that burner on the stove—the toaster goes off, and you nearly hit your head on the ceiling. You jump straight up. 

“Oh.” You press a hand to your chest, laughter tripping off your tongue. Your blood thrums excitedly, like it’s finally found the outlet it's been looking for all morning. “God, that scared me.” 

“I could tell,” Steve says, eyebrows at his hairline and smiling faintly. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah, good.” Your heartbeat has become more noticeable all of a sudden, a hollow ache behind your breastbone. “I’m almost done, just a sec.” 

“No rush, honey. Thanks for making me breakfast. It looks great.” 

“Of course, no problem.” You plate up the rest and spin to find Steve already there, his hand the only thing stopping you from nearly flinging the dish into the wall surprisedly. 

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, taking the plate from you and setting it on the counter. He brings his arms around your shoulders, and you wrap yours around him too, an automatic response. Steve sighs, his ribs expanding and contracting with the force of it, and you copy him mockingly. 

“Still tired, baby?” 

“A little,” he admits. “Though I can’t really complain, considering how little sleep you’ve gotten.” 

You make to pull out of the hug, but Steve tightens his grip on you, palm pressing into the midpoint of your upper back. You give in, a willing captive. 

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m sorry you’re tired.” 

Steve hums, taking another big breath. “I’m good.” A pause. “Okay, you can tell me if I’m crazy, but it does smell like something’s burning in here, right?” 

“Burnt,” you admit. “I left a blackberry cobbler in the oven a bit too long. The one in the fridge is a re-do.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be. I think the smell’s clearing out anyway. Right?”

You sniff experimentally at the air. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“Yeah?” he sniffs too. 

You inhale more fully, only detecting the faint remains of smokiness under the newer scent of bacon grease. 

“I’ve never had blackberry cobbler,” he says, palm beginning to coast slowly between your shoulder blades while his other arm stays firmly around your waist. “What’s it taste like?”

You perk up. “Wanna try some now?”

“No—I wouldn’t want to ruin this breakfast you’ve made me. Describe it to me.” 

It’s an odd request, but nothing you can’t manage for him. You think back, letting your tongue conjure up the memory of the last time you had it. “Well, the blackberries aren’t tangy by the time they’ve been cooked,” you tell him. Steve hums, hand solid and steady on your upper back. “And this recipe is really sweet. The dough is kind of like sugar cookie dough.” 

“Sounds good,” he says appreciatively. “Hey, do you think you can smell it?” 

“From inside the fridge?” You take your head from his shoulder to give Steve an odd look. 

“Sure, just give it a try.” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. You wrinkle your brow, sniffing tentatively. Steve opens his eyes as if to check you’re doing it, and it’s the worry in his look that gives him away. Your bemusement gives way to fondness as you take a long breath in, filling your lungs and holding the air inside you for a few moments before emptying them. You know what he’s doing, but you’re letting him anyway. 

“Mmm, don’t think I can,” you tell him wryly.  

“No?” Steve’s smile is sheepish, well aware you’re onto him. “Do you think we should find three things you can touch, just for fun?” 

You roll your eyes at him, but inhale again as you hug him tightly. Some of the pain in your chest eases. “Thanks, Stevie.” 

“What for?” he asks, hand resuming its route between your shoulder blades. “Hey listen, I’m all about your Christmas shopping idea, but do you wanna try taking a hot shower first? It might help you relax.” 

“That’s a good idea,” you admit, peeling away from him. He lets you this time, albeit reluctantly. “Your breakfast is going to get cold.”

Steve looks at it as though just remembering it’s there. “Right, thanks. Sit with me while I eat? You could have some of that tea you like.” 

You smile at him, taking a mug and your herbal tea down from the cabinet. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” 

“You’ve got to stop thanking me, I haven’t done a thing all morning.”

[lovelookspretty]

not so bad

college!rafe cameron x reader au

— in which rafe and y/n absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned y/n as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.

warning(s): raging hardcore sex. jk guys ! sex yes. 18+ mdni ! dont read the end if u arent comfortable. also some assault ngl from creepy guy

authors note: erm i needed conflict but the whole light stalker situation feels kind of corny so pls do not pay attention to that. also yes lowkey i got uncreative with the dialogue when y/n was giving rafe head ( that yes i just took it out completely ) SUE ME IM TIRED 😭

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

the days go by until you’ve reached saturday. you’ve been nothing but excited for what rafe has in store for the two of you. it’s been racking on your mind whether you and rafe are dating or not—is this saturday a friend date? or a date for . . . more?

you try to keep your composure when you’re around rafe or lorenzo. aria and elara are the only ones you’ve expressed your feelings to about the weekend. they both agree it’s a date date but suggest not to overthink it.

you know they’re right but for some reason, the thought of an official date feels so overwhelming.

in the library, you stand in an aisle of books while trying to find one in particular for one of your professors. it’s a recommendation, really, and he suggested yesterday that you bring him a copy from anywhere. you plan on giving it to him before you get ready for the date.

a pair of hands graze the side of your arms that send shivers. you don’t have to look at the person to know that it’s rafe. his scent is all you need.

“hey,” he whispers, appearing by your left side to take a look at the book in your hands. “reading something new?”

you chuckle but shake your head. “i wish. i’d give anything to read this for the first time,” you mutter under your breath as you stare down at the novel. when you look up at him, you add on, “just for my professor.”

you hand it to him because you can tell he wants a look closer. he takes it into his own hands, reading the title aloud, “the time traveler’s wife? what’s it about?”

you glance up at rafe, knowing he might not be up for a long explanation. with a small smile, you keep it brief, “it’s about this guy who time travels and his wife who has to deal with it. it’s really messy, but it’s just about love finding its way back, no matter what.” you shrug lightly, “kinda beautiful actually. one of my favorites.”

rafe raises his eyebrows as he hands the book back to you. “sounds interesting,” he comments. “aria’s still fine with me stealing you for a night right?”

you almost snort laughing. he and aria have this joke where rafe has to ask aria for permission to take you out, like you’re aria’s child. aria gives rafe things like pretend curfews, rules, etc.

“yeah she’s still fine with it,” you tell him. “i think she found her own date for tonight or tomorrow night. i forgot.”

rafe looks surprised. “aria? a date?”

“i know,” you say, and you walk him over to the stairs that leas down to the first floor of the library. “she’s mentioned him here and there for the past week—i don’t know much on the guy. just that he goes here and they met in english.”

rafe connects the dots that aria and the boy met in english, but that they also share an english class. it’s a little slow process but he gets it.

“wait, he’s in our english class?”

“yeah,” you confirm with a laugh. “which still, doesn’t give us much about who it is but he seems nice enough if aria’s going on a date with him.”

when you reach the bottom of the stairs, rafe turns to you, “well i’m gonna go pick enzo up from practice ‘cause he wants to go shopping real quick before he leaves for his lacrosse thing. you’ll be ready by six right?”

“obviously,” you mumble, and rafe chuckles softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your head. he ruffles your hair. “wait, why are you in the library then?”

he shrugs, beginning to walk away. “knew you’d be here.”

his words pierce through your mind. it makes you smile. you look down at your book with a hopeful glint in your eyes before heading to the front desk.

you really had no idea how to dress because rafe refused to tell you where you two were going on a date for days. fortunately before you got ready, you were complaining to rafe that you can’t dress for a place you don’t know about. you managed to get it out of him eventually.

‘ gee okay we’re going to a restaurant. it’s fancy but don’t be nervous. just be pretty ’

a fancy restaurant; so this really is a date date. this could go either really bad or really good depending on the food in there, but thankfully rafe also admitted what kind of restaurant it is.

you’re nervous no matter what rafe tells you to be, given your experience in this kind of environment. you’ve been to some around kildare, but each time just feels different. and this will be your first with rafe. you’re bound to feel tense.

he looks to you once you’re parked in front of the restaurant. “you ready to go?” he asks.

you nod, “ready to eat and drain your wallet.”

he shakes his head with a chuckle, and you’re glad he understands your humor. “you’re stupid,” he says as he gets out of the car, then jogs over to your side to open up your door. “don’t say a thing.”

“you’re such a gentleman,” you comment anyway, and you step out of the car while taking your hand into his. he helps you out before he shuts the door and locks the car, stuffing his keys in his pocket.

he keeps a tight grip on your hand but he squeezes it once. “c’mon,” he murmurs, leading you out of the parking lot.

he leads you into the restaurant where you wait for him to settle all the details about the reservation. you’re led to a table on the second floor. it’s right above the bar on the first floor but it’s right against the railing so you’re able to peek and see who comes in or out, and you especially note that you’re able to see when someone comes up or down the staircase.

you settle in your seats and are given water and their menu to start with, but you and rafe are ready to order your drinks at the very least.

“i’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menu. if you have any questions or need recommendations, feel free to ask,” the woman says with a kind smile before she leaves to come fetch your drinks.

it’s left to you and rafe at the table. you can tell that even he’s a little anxious but he’s putting it aside well.

“i haven’t been to a restaurant in so long,” you try to ease both of yourselves as you look around at all of the people who are just settling in, leaving, or staying for their next meal. “where did you find out about this one?”

“just around the corner from the new café, i’m surprised you didn’t notice,” he says, in which you scrunch your nose at. you honestly have no sense of surroundings that you didn’t catch it before.

“i’m glad you asked me to come,” you tell him after a few moments, and rafe widely grins at you as he nods.

“c’mere,” he whispers as he reaches his hand out on top of the table. you can’t help the smile on your face when you take your hand into his, though your gaze trails up briefly to who walked up the stairs and appeared behind rafe.

“—y/n?”

it takes you a moment but your eyes widen when you realize who’s standing there beside their own date—“aria?” you say back.

rafe furrows his eyebrows in confusion at you, turning around in his seat to see if aria really is there too. he’s dumbfounded to find that you aren’t kidding.

aria can read the expression on your face and her own falls, realizing the mistake she’s made. she’s interrupting you two.

aria is silent as she and her date get led to a table beside you, as per aria’s request so it’s easier to talk to you. when they’re seated, aria holds her purse in her lap and leans toward you.

“i didn’t know you were coming here for your date!” aria whispers, and you can tell she’s in a panic, “i’m so sorry!”

you look to rafe and stare at him with a look that can only tell him that you know this is a bad thing. really? there goes your alone time.

“we can make this a double-date!” her date suggests. aria looks to him, then at rafe with an unapologetic expression. “i’m reggie!”

“reggie—?” you question as you look to aria for help.

“you didn’t tell me your roommate was here, ari,” reggie says to her as he unfolds the napkin and places it on his lap happily.

aria is clearly bothered by the so that as she slowly unfolds her own napkin. “yeah ‘cause i didn’t know, if it wasn’t already obvious enough,” she grits through her teeth. she leans forward to speak to reggie directly, “maybe we go look for another restaurant?”

reggie shakes his head, “but we’ve already made our reservation here and we’re seated! what’s the harm?” he looks to you and rafe. “you guys wouldn’t mind a double, would you now?”

rafe’s gaze is already on you when you face him. you know that this reggie guy is off to a bad start so far, and sitting beside them of all people is going to be difficult. respectfully, you guys are supposed to be having this night together, not with them.

“guess not,” rafe says with a smile, though you can tell he’s upset. the server comes back with your drinks and you sit quietly while she places them in front of you both. “thank you.”

“thanks,” you mutter, then take the glass of water and begin downing it gulp by gulp. rafe eyes you carefully when he’s going for just a sip of his water. even aria, reggie, and the server are watching too.

you set your glass down and press a hand to your stomach, feeling off about this whole thing. you should’ve talked with aria earlier to discuss where each date is going to take place so stuff like this can be avoided.

regardless, you and rafe order and decide to converse with aria and reggie while you’re there anyway. it’s agreeable that it’s strange to be there at the same time on the same day at the same place, but there was a light joke thrown in that suggests they all become friends from then on.

“hey, you’re roommates with lorenzo agosta, right?” reggie asks rafe. the blond boy only gives a silent nod in response. “i’ve been to some of his games, he’s pretty good! his girlfriend is that little uh . . . elena?”

“elara,” rafe says as he looks over the railing to see if their waitress has come to bring their food to them yet. “they’re not really boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“oh,” reggie notes with a nod. “so that was some debate between you two.”

you feel exhausted just hearing him. he yaps so much—does he like the sound of his own voice this bad or something?

but you remember what he’s talking about. right; he’s in your class.

“yeah,” you reply dryly. “all in good fun.”

“never thought i’d see this pairing outside of that class after that,” he says, and he’s referring to you and rafe. “let alone on a date.”

aria gulps down her drink as she raises her hand, “check!”

reggie looks at her with his mouth gaped open, “already—?”

“—yep!”

you eat your food in silence as reggie goes on about school. you and rafe are sharing glances with each other constantly, seeming unable to find a moment together that it’s actually irritating.

aria seems tired of her date too. whether or not she’s into the fact that he’s . . . very social, she must think that the time to be social isn’t for a time like this. you can tell she’s embarrassed as she picks at her food.

at some point, aria actually stands up and clears her throat, announcing, “i need to go find a restroom, i’m not feeling too hot.”

she walks over to the hallway just a few tables down, and she disappears without a word.

rafe wipes his mouth with his napkin and stands up, alerting the two of you, “me too. i’m gonna get some air.”

“in a bathroom?” you ask him.

“in a bathroom,” he confirms, leaving his seat to use the men’s restroom. you watch the path he takes until you can’t see him anymore. guess they really can’t take it.

it’s silence amongst you and reggie when you look back at him. he’s seemed to quiet down, and his energy is depleted after watching them excuse themselves. even his own date.

you collect a piece of your food on your fork and slowly lean forward to bring it into your mouth, then chew, contemplating if going in the restroom next will be the best choice, even if it means hurting reggie.

suddenly he twitches, turning to you to reach over to your hand, which you feel like yanking away immediately, but you just stare at him in bewilderment.

“hey i’m sorry if i’ve been talking everyone’s ear off.” his tone is different, it’s serious, and his expression is too. “i didn’t realize how badly i could be bothering you and rafe since this is your date after all.”

you blink twice. acknowledgement? coming from him? this is the first. you try to continue staying unbothered as you reach for your drink.

“not the best at making friends,” he says with a slight chuckle. “and you just make me nervous i guess.”

you stop the flow of the drink as you stare forward. you gulp down what’s remaining in your mouth before setting the glass down, looking at him.

“nervous?” you ask him.

“you’re just pretty,” he says, and you slowly pull your hand away from him. “i’ve seen you in our english class.”

you feel off about this whole thing. “okay,” you mutter under your breath, but he grabs a handful of the table cloth.

you’re stunned at the aggression within him, and your hand instinctively reaches up to grab the table cloth to pull it down as much as you can so he doesn’t damage the restaurants property.

when he sees your hand within view again, he takes it instead, with force, “you can’t be sitting here with a guy like rafe cameron—i mean, what’s the appeal?” he snorts, “he doesn’t know how gifted you are. you’re at the top of all our classes.”

our classes?

“he can’t handle someone like you, he can’t satisfy you.”

you lean forward, staring at him directly. “get. the fuck. off of me,” you say through your teeth, but he keeps a firm grip.

“i’ve had my eye on you since the first day of school. he doesn’t know anything about you.”

“and you do?” you ask, and knowing that he said that must mean he knows a good deal about you, at least. it’s fucking creepy. who is this guy? “let go of me,” you tell him.

suddenly it’s so fast that you don’t see it coming.

rafe dashes across the floor and finds you, but rips reggie’s hand away from your wrist in one action. reggie seems to be raising his hands in surrender when he knows he’s caught, but rafe keeps two handfuls of reggie’s collar.

he’s heated, and you look to the side to find that aria is standing at the end of the hallway, devastated at the turnout of the two dates.

she realizes she should do something so she finds you quickly, and you get out of your chair to hold her hands. she checks your wrists for any marks.

“did he hurt you?” aria keeps asking in a panic, and you just watch as rafe handles reggie.

“i just held her wrist man, i just held her—” reggie is trying to say before rafe throws him to the ground.

he turns to you and aria, reaching his hand out.

you stare at his hand, then back at him, then take it. aria is connected with your other hand as rafe leads the two of you all the way down the stairs, then to the front of the restaurant.

“go outside, alright? i’m gonna pay the check,” rafe says in a hurry, and he reaches deep in his pockets for his keys, fumbling with them as he passes them to you. “go in the car already, okay? i’ll meet you there. aria, let reggie pay your check. just stay in the car.”

“okay,” you mumble as rafe leans in to press a kiss to your head before he leaves to call a server over, so you take aria’s hand and rush to where you remember rafe’s car is.

aria is in a fit, crying as you and her run across the seat, “i’m so sorry y/n! i didn’t think he was like that!”

“it’s fine aria, just c’mon,” you tell her as you open the door of the truck, scooting inside and urging her to come in with you in the backseat. “up, up, up.”

she has to hold onto the car door and the seat, lifting herself up and into the spot next to you. she shuts the door behind her.

you refrain from crying when aria begins to face her mistakes from that night. but you can’t blame her for choosing the wrong guy; it’s not like she knew before today that he is the way he is.

rafe soon joins you in the car and doesn’t question why you’re in the backseat with aria. he’s quick to start the car and go back home.

you stare at aria sound asleep in someone’s bed. it took a bit to get there, but all her crying stopped after the constant reassurance for half an hour. guess sleep got to her fast.

your arms are crossed but you rub the side of your arm as you look around the dorm.

“she’ll be safe,” a girl says from behind you. you turn around, finding one of aria’s friends there. you’re grateful to have already met aria’s other friends earlier in the year so you can have her fall asleep in her dorm room tonight. “i promise.”

“thanks for this, i really do appreciate it,” you tell her. “tell her to text me when she wakes up?”

“of course, goodnight,” she says, and you return it, slowly making your way out of the dorm so you can let her sleep too. you blow off some steam from this past night, and you begin walking to your dorm.

the memories replay in your head again and again. ‘ i’ve seen you in our english class . . . ’

where else have you seen me?

“hey,” a voice calls to you from across the hall. you’re startled by it ripping you away from your thoughts, but you look up to find rafe standing in his doorframe. you walk over to him immediately, clinging to him like a magnet once you’ve touched his skin.

you wrap your arms around his torso and press your ear to his chest, so he frowns, his arms coming around to embrace you.

“stay the night in my room,” rafe whispers, his hand coming up to rub his thumb against the top of your head. “enzo’s not in there tonight. he’s away for a tournament.”

you don’t even need to think about what’s best for you. you know what is.

“okay,” you say, because it’s him.

“do you wanna talk about it?” he asks you as he climbs onto his bed with you. you’re sitting up with your legs crossed, kind of just staring out.

“i don’t know,” you say, and he gets underneath the blanket. “no.”

he only sighs as he grabs an end of the blanket and pulls it over you at the very least. he lays his head down on his pillow and keeps his arm wrapped around your waist for comfort.

he closes his eyes. “do you want me to turn off the light?” he questions, referring to his lamp that he’s keeping on since you’re still awake. he can’t tell when you’ll lay down to fall asleep either.

“does it bother you if it’s on?”

he shrugs, “not if you want it on.”

you think about it for a moment, grateful that he’ll fall asleep with his light on if it helps you. “i can turn it off,” you volunteer, and he adjusts his head on his pillow as you reach over to his nightstand. “you have your nightlight anyway.”

you’re referring to the plug-in in the wall across the room. you don’t know whether it’s rafes or lorenzos, but it’s amusing to know that one of them need it to say the least.

“stop,” he whispers. “goodnight.”

it brings a smile on your face as you turn off the lamp and get under the sheets. you can’t see much, but you can make out some things with the nightlight on behind you.

you face rafe and lay your head on the pillow carefully, though you can’t sleep yet. you’re just watching him doze off on his own.

“goodnight,” you whisper back.

you close your eyes and try to keep tonight out of your thoughts—at least the positive bits. rafe surprising you at the library just because he knew you would be there, his constant load of messages of him expressing how excited he was for the date, the tugging at him so he’d admit where you two were going, even when rafe was handling reggie for you.

reggie. his name and face are burned in your mind.

you don’t feel yourself fall asleep until you’re mid-dream. the events of the night replay twice for you, but this time, rafe isn’t here to save you.

reggie’s reaching for your hand, gripping it, pulling it. you hear his laughter like an echo. he’s grinning at you, but there’s something uncanny about him this time. the way he’s looking at you.

you receive the stalker feeling from reggie, it is loud and clear. he’s been watching you since the first day of school and you didn’t even know it—what times has he been around to see you without you noticing?

your eyes snap open and you realize you’ve been crying as you sleep. you whine softly as you reach up to touch your cheek. your fingers get wet immediately, and you blink out the tears that have been building up most recently.

rafe feels your movement while he’s half-asleep, but he wakes himself up enough to open his eyes and breathe in a great deal of air as he checks up on you.

his hand on your arm becomes more focused, and you can tell he’s awake.

“are you okay?” he asks you, not thinking much of it until he reaches up to touch your face, and he instantly reacts to the tears streaming down your face. “y/n?” he reaches up and over you to turn his lamp on. when he looks down at you, he sees the state you’re in.

you don’t even mean to be crying but now that it’s here, it’s like you just can’t make it stop. you choke out a few sobs when there’s no point in hiding it anymore. “i had a nightmare,” you manage to get out in between.

rafe’s heart clenches at the sound of you, and he pulls you closer to him, wanting to offer whatever comfort he can. “c’mere,” he says quietly, “it’s okay, i’m here. and i’m not going anywhere. you’re safe with me.”

his words only make you cry harder, grateful that he’s willing to open his arms willingly for you. “it was reggie,” you tell him about your nightmare. “we were back the restaurant and he was trying to grab me again but it was so . . . aggressive and scary and . . .”

rafe listens to your words. he remembers the way reggie was with you tonight. rafe pulls you tighter against his chest, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “hey, it’s okay.”

you want to just go to sleep peacefully, to forget about the guy, but your mind won’t allow it. you assume it’s because you didn’t properly process any of it before. you were so keen on making sure aria was okay that you set your own feelings aside.

“i just wanna sleep,” you mumble, wiping your eyes with your wrist.

he wants nothing more than to take away all your pain and worries. he looks at you, his eyes soft, and gently tilts your chin up to look at him. “you can sleep,” he says, “i’ll be here for you y/n. always.”

you look up at rafe and stare into his eyes, feeling his sense of care. all you want is him, to take your mind off of it. it’s a different method than usual to distract you, but it’s also used as a way to tell him thank you.

you lean in to press your lips against his.

rafe's heart flutters as he closes hie eyes, his hand reaching out to gently cup the side of your face. he deepens the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip before pulling back.

his breath is fanning over your lips as he looks down at you. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers tracing the shape of your face. “you know, i’ve been thinking,” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper.

“maybe we should just . . . forget about everything else for tonight. just you and me, okay?” he says, his eyes searching yours for understanding and agreement.

at his words, you want nothing more than him right now. you lean in for another kiss but this time, it’s hungrier. there’s more desire.

he catches your lips on his and his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him.

you sit up briefly to pull your shirt over your head, then lean back down to connect your lips with his again, your legs tangled with his. he kisses you softly, sweetly, his hands roaming over your back and sides.

rafe pulls back slightly, his lips still brushing against yours as he whispers, “i want you so bad, but only if you’re sure. i don’t want to rush anything.”

“i’m sure,” you promise him. “i need to get my mind off of this.”

with a nod from you, rafe moves his hands to your hips, helping you move to straddle him as he shifts so that he’s leaning back against the headboard. he leans in to kiss you again, his hands moving to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

“fuck,” you hiss at the contact.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” rafe breathes, breaking the kiss to bury his face in your chest. he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his hands squeezing and massaging the other breast. he sucks hard, his teeth grazing against the sensitive peak. you lean your head back on your shoulders.

rafe releases your nipple with a pop, his eyes locked on yours as he moves to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. he looks up at you, his face flushed, his lips swollen from kissing you. “tell me what you need,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

your hands come up to cup his face, and your thumb traces his lips as you kiss him again, biting down on his lip softly, then pulling away. “i need you rafe,” you tell him.

“you have me,” he whispers.

you lift your hips up briefly so he’s able to pull his sweats and his boxers off together, and he kicks them off to the edge of the bed. you lower yourself down on his cock without putting it in yet, dragging your clothed cunt back and forth against him. all that’s separating you two is your underwear.

“fuck,” he groans, leaning back against the headboard again, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your wetness through the thin fabric of your underwear. he can feel himself already dripping with pre-cum, and you haven’t even fully touched him yet.

“please,” you whisper against his lips like you’re begging for him to be inside of you already. you’re rocking your hips back and forth against the underside of his cock. you’re ready for him.

“you’re such a fucking tease,” rafe groans, reaching down to pull your panties to the side, “fuck, you’re wet too," he adds as he rubs the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you back.

he finally relents, pushing inside of you slowly, watching as your eyes flutter shut and your mouth drops open in pleasure. “you feel so good,” he says.

"you’re so tight, mmhf, and wet—god, it’s like you were made for me,” he grunts, picking up a steady rhythm, sliding his cock in and out of your wet cunt while you moan.

he flips the two of you so you’re on your back with him hovering on top of you. he easily lifts your legs and lays them over his shoulders, making you gasp at the new sensation as he pushes inside of you deeper. “is this how you want it?”

you’re a moaning mess but you bite down on your lip to keep them all from coming out. “just like that rafe, please,” you whimper, savoring the feeling of his cock repeatedly pushing in and out of you at a steady pace.

“fuck, look at you,” he groans, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pounds into you, “so pretty and fucked out, just lying there and taking it.” he leans forward, burying his face in your neck as he fucks you harder.

you cry out at the new pace, and you wrap your arm around his neck to pull him closer.

his teeth sink into your neck as he fucks you even harder, the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. “you're mine, all mine, and i’m gonna fucking ruin you for anyone else.”

you feel yourself about to cum within the next minute, and you’re clinging to the feeling with everything you have. it feels too good to lose grip on.

rafe takes the opportunity to pull out before you do, and he lowers himself down to be eye-level with your pussy. he dives right in, his lips around your clit as his fingers toy at your entrance before slipping in. he wants you to cum from his mouth.

your mouth gapes open at the feeling of his long fingers being able to slide into your pussy with ease.

he smirks up at you, two fingers curled to hit that right spot inside of you as his tongue works your clit, determined to make you cum harder than ever before.

he sucks harder on your clit, his fingers thrusting into you even faster until you finally release.

he moans as he tastes you, fingers still pumping into you softly as you ride out the aftershocks, his tongue easing the intensity. “such a good girl for me,” he praises.

he keeps his fingers inside you, holding you through the aftershocks, his thumb pressing against your clit to keep the pleasure going as he looks up at you with a satisfied smile, “let’s get you cleaned up so you can go to sleep y/n.”

you realize he’s only made you cum, but not him. “wait, what? already? what about you?”

he shakes his head as he gets off of the bed. “it’s not about me angel,” he tells you. “plus, you look fucked out and satisfied. that sight is more than enough for me.”

before he goes to grab some tissues you assume, you reach for him and grab his wrist to stop him. he looks down at you, in which you tell him, “but i want to.”

he pauses and looks at you, a look of surprise flicking across his face as he looks down at you, probably not expecting you offering him a blowjob just to make him cum. then again, after the orgasm he just gave you, perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised.

“please.” you tug on his arm to get him to come back to bed with you. “lay down,” you murmur.

he smiles at you, a little bit amused before nodding and pulling his wrist out of your grip. he crawls back onto the bed, lying down so that his head is on the pillow while looking at you expectantly.

you watch him move, your heart racing in a mix of arousal and excitement. he can see the flush spreading on your cheeks as you inch closer to him. he could only smile at you, realizing that despite your bold act earlier, it’s still taking its toll on your nerves.

you take a look at his cock in front of you. it’s big, and it’s pulsating for you. you slowly move forward and press your lips to the tip first. he sucks in a breath. he could feel you moving forward slowly, taking him into your mouth inch by inch and it’s making his head spin.

you try not to gag at the feeling of him filling your mouth. you wrap your hand around his base and pump him as you suck. using your tongue, you swirl it around his tip.

after a bit, your mouth quickly leaves his cock and sucks at the tip of his ballsack instead. you suck on them one by one.

he moans at the sensation, his hand reaching down between his legs to tangle into your hair. he whispers his approval, letting you continue with what you’re doing. his brain overloaded with pleasure it’s hard to form any words or even sentences. he’s completely at your mercy.

you take that as approval to continue and spend a minute or two lavishing attention on his balls—licking, sucking, and worshipping them. then you go back to his cock, kissing your way back up before taking him back into your mouth, faster and deeper now.

he lets out a string of incoherent words and sounds as you do. his fingers tighten in your hair as he struggles to keep himself from thrusting forward and choking you. he’s so close already, and you’re not even halfway through your technique.

the vibrations from your humming send him over the edge. he starts thrusting forward, fucking your mouth with no regard for your comfort or safety. he’s too far gone, lost in the pleasure you’re providing him.

he starts to cum, his cock throbbing as he shoots load after load down your throat. he tightens his grip on your hair as he bucks his hips up against your mouth, keeping you there as he cums, groaning.

you swallow everything he gives you, never breaking eye contact with him until he’s spent and still. he collapses back onto the mattress, a heavy panting escaping his lips as he tries to recover from that orgasm. he’s never felt so spent right after sex before. he looks down at you, his body going weak again at the sight of you still there.

you smile, satisfied, content even, as you look up at him with half lidded eyes. “was that okay?” you ask softly.

“fuck, that was amazing,” he gasps out, trying to catch his breath. he watches as you go to his dresser to retrieve the box of tissues he keeps, and you make your way back to him.

you hand a tissue to him, but he just pulls you closer to press his lips against yours, needing to feel you again. there’s a slight blush on your cheeks as you pull away.

rafe is tired, but he’s staring at you like he’s in a daze, “you're going to be the death of me, i swear.”

sobbing omg that was all so fast paced

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog @lalalalala33 @darkcolorexpert @babyflockaaaa @lifeofleasaasa @ilyrafe @mkiverd @wxn-drlst @maybankslover @xxbirkindoll2 @chiliwhore @wearemadeofstardust0 @thepopcultureaddict @mounthings @ijustwanttoreadlols @karmasloverrr @lilithblackkk @drewsdirtyslut @rafesno1bae @mfdoomdickrider @pillowprincess4him @lanascokedeal3r @evilsturniolos

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Sexual Fantasies: Mars in Composite 1/2

TAROT EDITION

Im on my 50 shades of grey erotica shitttt make the pronouns fit however you need to

1H/Aries: The Devil: This person has stamina for daysss. They love to see you whimpering, gripping the sheets begging for mercy. Sex with them is so much fun, its so spontaneous you love having sex all over the house. Sitting on top of the bathroom counter pent against the mirror thats still steamy from the shower yall just took. Bodies still wet. 9 of Pentacles: Come put that pussy on my lap! They want you to come sit on their lap and tell them about your day. Page of Pentacles: Lets go on a date but heres the twist he has you put on vibrating panties. Foreplay the entire car ride to dinner. You arrive at a very nice restaurant, one of your favorites. You get settled in the vibes are emulate the lights and dim the music is soft and comforting. Your making eye contact over a perfectly sweet and sharp glass of wine. He begins to enjoy watching have control over you with the push of a button. Ace of Wands: He's going to teach how he likes he likes to be touched. He talks you through it very softly but still so direct. Two of Pentacles: This goes along with touching him, he wants to put you to work so attentively you notice every little twitch and deep breath. Song: Discipline- Janet Jackson

2H/Taurus: Six of Cups: They love to buy you gifts. They want to know with certainty there serious about you and want you to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Thats the type of love they make too. Slow and steady you gotta get yours first. Seven of Pentacles: He takes you shopping then bends you over in the dressing room lifting up the dress he just bought you. Ten of Wands: He hand feeds you grapes as he's bonding you up. You feel the pressure from the ropes, deep breaths send shocks through your body. Your calm. Bent over on all fours. He looks at you and ask, Are you ready for your discipline? Judgement: Giving you backshots your bodies mesh into each other so well the rhythm so perfect. He leans down towards you feeling his weight on your body makes you moan he pulls you up towards him ''shhh be quiet". Four of Pentacles: He's so attentive to your body massaging you from the scalp to the soles of your feet. He knows all the tricks he has up his sleeve for you and needs you as relaxed as possible. Song: Say Yes- Floetry *i pulled a lot of the same cards in 3H and had to re pull you should read that one too*

3H/Gemini: King of pentacles: He plays it cool in public you may even think he's not even interested but in reality hes undressed you with his eyes so many times thinking about all the different places and positions he would put you in. Ofc sexually but its more than that. He has plans to change your life, making sure he's forever imprinted on you. Nine of Wands: You would go to war for each other. The bond you share deeper than you ever thought it would be. You balance each so well. The physical and spiritual have come together in harmony. Nine of Swords: Girl... You wore him out. He didnt know you could go for so many rounds. You drained everything out of him literally. Justice: He's never experienced sex the way he has with you. He's so happy to have met someone like you. It feels like hes been waiting for so long. Always being the person to satisfy in the bedroom but never satisfied. He feels he met his energetic equal. Five of Swords: The way he eats your pussy puts you in a trance. He moves his fingers in and out of you so precisely feeling your ques making your body levitate. It leaves you speechless. Song: Speechless- Beyonce *this one isnt as sexual i pulled alot of the same cards in 2H you should read that one too*

4H/Cancer: Four of Cups: The sexual appetite is unequal someone can also be ungrateful for the efforts applied by the other. Knight of Pentacles: This person can look so unsuspecting then you come together and they end up being so freaky your truly surprised to realize they study tantric sex practices. Always learning something new about sex teaching their partner new ways to experience something they may have done many times before. The Fool: Late night pull up, Off the don julio act a foolio! They pull up on you with the vibes. The mood is set, lights dim, incense burning, smoking and sipping the conversation just flowing over a fire ass playlist. Yall take yall time catching up its no rush. Then you get to doing what grow folks do when they grown and in love. Ten of Swords: This person will literally go to war about you. This makes me think of a video i seen where a couple was on an escalator and a person pranked them by flirting with his girlfriend infront of him and he yolked him up and she was so unbothered. Nine of Wands: Yea this placement gives toxic vibes, a lot of jealously and possessiveness. Some people like that though. Song: Mine- Kevin Gates / Hate it here- Moneybag Yo

5H/Leo: King of Pentacles: Its early in the morning, He's in the kitchen leaning against the countertop drinking a cup of coffee on a business call. You approach him still naked and blissful from last nights rendezvous. Ever so lightly kissing his left cheek then the right. Moving your way down to his neck, then the chest, making your way slowing down his body unzipping his pants looking into his eyes as he attempts to maintain his poise. Emperor & Empress: The fact that i pulled both the cards together says alottttt. This is a vibe. Your energy flows so well together. Sex with this person feels like you've met your equal. The relationship is so fun because you both enjoy the same pleasures, you both feel lucky to be with one another. When on dates everyone pays attention the energy is so strong, almost intimidating. You look so good together and everyone can tell it goes down in the bedroom. The intimacy builds stronger through the patience and the simple pleasures you experience together. Queen of pentacles: It turns him on to see you relaxed and in your element. Your tied to the bed eyes covered your senses are taken on a journey. Lighting brushing a peony up your body then bringing it around to your nose. Deep inhales and light moans taking in the light citrus scent. The room is covered in fresh flowers, it smells like love. Song: Dangerously in love- Beyonce *the cards picked for this one.... chefs kiss*

6H/Virgo: Knight of Cups: Both of you let the flood gates loose if you know what i mean. I just keep thinking about that 50 cent song have a baby by me baby be a millionaire. They think about what life will be like once you have a family together. Two of Cups: A dinner date but its in house candles lit the night is beautiful the stars are out. He cooks you a wonderful meal you enjoy it over a nice glass... or two or three... of wine then you become the meal. Page of Pentacles: Your meeting his family for the first time everyone loves you. Your sitting at the dinner table hes on the left of you. He puts his hand on your thigh squeezes. Your legs brushing up against one another. Adrenaline ripples like waves through your body. Six of Pentacles: He calls you over to him he has a stack of money in this hand smiling at you he re positions himself in the chair he pats his lap and motions for you to come to him. Straddling him you whine back and forth feeling him grow under you. Kissing, your bodies pressed into each other the bills start to shower you. Three of Wands: Laying in bed watching the sunrise talking about your future together, creating scenarios of what life will be like once you have children together, what their names will be, how you'd imagine they'd look, what you'll be spending time doing. Manifesting your life together watching the sunrise in each others arms. Song: Baby By Me- 50 Cent

Like for part 2!

[avianyuh]

Bts as boyfriend jimn edition

[A/N:Can't believe I haven't written this yet, but thank you Anon, and I'm so sorry I didn't see this in my inbox until today.]

I see Jimin as one of those boyfriends who would just be so happy to have you

Would spend most of his time with you

Always be interested to hear about your day

Would probably want to go out a lot

Restaurants, shopping, traveling

omg the vacations?!

Would hold your hand really tight and walk in front to "protect" you in high touristy areas

He'd show you off to everyone you meet

I think he'd like to have lil therapy sessions

Just talking about life, what else he wants to accomplish (he's already done so much), and he'd want to hear about your hopes and dreams, your fears and I see him as a very reassuring person

Think about it; when one of the BTS members is upset, who is the first one to go over and comfort them?

JIMIN!

I think he would have a hard time keeping his relationship a secret

But I see him being very protective and getting upset if anyone goes after you

He's just such a sweet guy

Jimin would ask the fans to be respectful 100%

Most people would just stay silent but I see him as coming out with a PSA to support you

Would want to meet your friends and family

And I'm telling you now, it would be hard for anyone not to love him

So I think the real challenge would be winning over his family

But, considering how well Jimin turned out, I think his family would be just as kind and welcoming

But before introducing you to his family, I think he wouldn't be able to shut up about you

Definitely would be the type to mention you to everyone

Especially his friends

I think you'd meet them before his family

But you'd probably meet the rest of BTS (mainly JK or Tae first)

shexy shtuff:

hmmm

We've all seen the way he moves

So I KNOW that man has rhythm

And I KNOW he would use his dancing skills in other aspects of his life

Because I've read a lot of BTS astrology on Tumblr, I feel like he'd be very passionate

And maybe 👀dominate🤫

It's just the vibe I get from him

Would be very loving

Definitely a hand/face holder

Big on eye contact

Praise

The whole nine yards

Very loyal and the type to just really take care of you

omg you'd see all of his tattoos when he's shirtless

Like I said, Jimin would just be a very great boyfriend due to his personality

He's just such a sweetheart so I see that being reflected in a relationship

[veneerslipstick]

˚୨୧⋆yes, & i love you｡˚ ⋆

velvet x FEM!reader

• one shot

• fluff/slight angst

velvet, the pop star every girl strived to be, had met you at a meet-and-greet, recognized you from highschool and instantly made you her #2 — not necessarily her assistant but accompanied her on every shopping trip, dress rehearsal and personal meetings to discuss her opportunities for her career.

but you were quite more than just her dresser. from the heart melting tension to the pain you felt each time you were away from eachother turns more and more intense as time goes by.

you knew what you wanted, and by her longing gaze before fleeting to a show, you knew she knew too, but was she committed to her feelings as much as you?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

“what do you mean my cards been declined?”

“ma’am, i-“

“try it again!” velvet protested, waving her credit

card in the air and her other hand balling into a fist.

you stood there , holding shopping bags all up your

arms and smiling nervously at the cashier.

awkwardly, you walked over to velvet and put your

hand out, her hesitating for a second but placing the

card on your palm and crossing her arms ignorantly.

you inserted the card into the machine, waited

patiently and it beeped.

“perfect!” the cashier exclaimed, looking relieved

whilst looking at you , mouthing ‘thank you’. you

nodded at her and looked to velvet. she rolled her

eyes and picked up a few bags.

“yeah yeah, don’t look at me like that. let’s go.”

both of you headed out of Ralph Lauren and into the

parking lot, where you loaded the bags into the back

of the limo, and getting into the car. you sat next to

velvet , a couple inches away, and she melted into

the seat.

“UGH, that was exhausting.” velvet whined, her eyes

falling closed. you admired the purple, sparkly

eyeshadow she had on, which you yourself put on

her that morning. you suddenly remembered how

close she was to you and how you could smell her

strawberry cream perfume. you blinked and looked

down, giggling.

“girl, i don’t think you could last a REAL full day of

shopping. you’d collapse.” you joked. velvet opened

her eyes, furrowing her eyebrows with a small smile.

“what do you mean a REAL day of shopping?”

you smiled and crossed your legs.

“nine to five, shopping alllll day without stopping and

coming home with blisters and your makeup ruined.”

velvet scoffed and kicked you gently with her boot.

“i could so do that, don’t test me y/n.” she shot back,

leaning in slightly to intimidate you. you stuck your

tongue out at her.

“game on , 30$ says you’ll give up within the half

hour.”

velvet rolled her eyes and laid down on the seat,

crossing her legs.

“don’t even with that.” she murmured, leaving you

giggling to yourself.

after the car ride from one of vels assistant, you both

escorted and velvet was snappy with getting other

assistants to bring the bags inside. you felt awkward

whenever she did that, like you were useless in the

situation, and it was even worse when you weren’t

even the celebrity , so you had no right to be

standing there with nothing in your hands. but,

whatever velvet says goes, so you carried on.

entering her and veneers mansion, you took a

glimpse to the chandelier over head of you. no matter

how many times you’ve walked into this room, you’re

still taken aback by the beauty of the shining crystals

and the cream light that poured over it.

“do you want one? i can easily get one. everytime i

see you you’re eye eating that thing.” velvet intrudes,

pulling out her phone.”

“NO, no. i don’t want one, this one is just specifically

pretty. it’s nice to be able to walk into the room with

it glowing.” you continued to gaze over it, your eyes

shining like beads and your lips pulled into a soft

smile.

velvet watched you, staring at your eyes as she bit

the inside of her cheek. she felt a pang in her chest,

but couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. clearing her

throat, she turned around and headed for her

staircase.

“come, we can find places for the clothes then finally

pick out a nail colour for tomorrow.” she stated, you

weren’t slow to catch up to her.

now in her room of many rewards on shelves and

carpet flooring, velvet groaned when she saw all the

shopping bags on the floor.

“they could have AT LEAST put them down neatly.”

she grumbled. you noticed overtime that she was the

picky type, and not just rich picky, but things had to

be exactly right in her eyes or everything would go to

hell. you walked to the bags and started going

through the clothes, sorting between color , fabrics,

tops and bottoms. after sorting, you began putting

away everything, and velvet was right at your side.

“for the polish, i was thinking arctic blue that’s

marble with light blue, and maybe light glitter? no

wait that’s stupid..” she speaks as you fold and hang

clothing on hangers in her walk in closet, right at

your hip and throwing her hands in your face.

sometimes you think she forgets how comfortable

she is around you.

“what’s your favourite color again?” she asks out of

the blue.

“f/c.” you mumble.

she stares at you for a moment,

not saying anything and then groaning, swatting

clothes out of your hands and pulling you by the

wrist out of the closet. “it’s like talking to a wall.” she

mumbles, acting all pissy, but in reality she just

wanted your attention.

you both sit on her king sized bed, her laying down

on the bed on her back, crossing her legs (she does

this a lot, you never knew why) and looking at her

nails. she continues to ramble about polish and how

it’ll match her performance outfit, then how she

hated the outfit, and how she hated the smell of

detergent, then.. you got a little lost. you you look

down at her, one leg tucked under you and your hand

down on the mattress holding yourself up.

“vel,” you started and she stopped. “what?”

“take a second girl. you’ve been pent up about

this nonstop , just breathe.” you grinned and her

expression softened slightly. her shoulders loosened

up and you noticed her jaw stopped flexing. she

opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then

opened again; “if i asked you to do something

stupid , what would you say?”

you scanned her eyes. “yes. i would say yes

everytime.”

your expression was so serious it

frightened her for a moment. you remembered to

relax and smiled a little. “well, cause, it’s hard to say

no to a celebrity. or whatever.” you bettered , velvet

rolling her eyes in exaggeration.

“i’m being serious, y/n.”

“oh are you? that’s shocking.”

“hm, yeah, jackass.”

“you adore me though.”

silence. she stared at you with her beady , deep blue

eyes. they were similar to spears, threatening to

attack and not being able to look away. she laid on

the bed , her green curls and locks spread on the

satin sheets like a painting. if only it were a painting,

she couldn’t have looked more beautiful.

“y/n,” she whispered , a smile pulling at the corner of

her mouth. you hummed in response, her legs falling

to the side that brushed your arm. her eyelids hung

low as she looked at you. a magnet in your stomach

pulled you closer to her,

and you let it.

you leaned down to her, hearing her breath hitch in

her throat and her lips parting the further you leaned

down. but her headed to started to shake, her eyes

fell closed and her breathing got shaky.

“no.. no, no no” she whispered , sitting up and

backing away. you panicked for a moment and

leaned away from her , raising your hands.

“h-hey, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you

uncomfortable,” you spat out and she still shook her

head.

“this.., this can’t happen. get out please.” she

murmured.

you froze, your expression completely falling. “what?”

“i said get out.” she snapped , pointing to the door,

her eyes red and hot and you wondered what her

tears looked like oh you wondered how her tears felt ,

“okay.” you whispered with a voice crack, feeling a

lump in your throat and getting up from her bed. you

turned and headed out her door, closing it slowly and

feeling your stomach twist and churn as you heard

the door click.

everything had felt right, why had she acted like it

was so out of the blue? did you misunderstand? no,

you couldn’t have. that look in her eye. the contact,

the way she seemed to have pulled your soul from

your throat.

ohhh, she had you. had you by the strings.

eyes watering, you found your way out of the house

and went somewhere. you didn’t really know where.

anywhere was nowhere without her.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊

the next day…

yes, you had eventually made it home. after a long

night of contemplating and trying to tear the pit out

of your stomach, you fell asleep on your couch at

4am. you decided to head to velvet and veneers

dressing room early. usually you went with velvet, but

you decided there was no point. there you prepped

their makeup and hair products , anything to keep

yourself busy. it wasn’t your job, it was crimps, but

you couldn’t care less. sometimes you felt like you

did more than her.

as you were laying out makeup brushes, eyes half

open from exhaustion, you heard the door knob

rattling. you had locked the door without realizing it,

so you went to open it. you were then face to face

with a messy up-do velvet with her casual gold mini

skirt and gold top that was paired with pearl earrings

and a white pendant. you felt that churn in your

stomach that came as a familiar feeling. you forced a

smile and opened the door wide open for her.

“good morning vel,” you murmured, her walking in

and scanning the room.

“you didn’t have to.. do any of that. you aren’t

supposed to.” she says almost defensively, putting

her purse down and avoiding eye contact. leaning

against the wall with your hands in your pockets, you

gazed at her. “i didn’t think it mattered.” you replied

with a tone you didn’t recognize.

she didn’t respond, only cleared her throat and

pulled the elastic out of her hair, her loose, flowing

hair falling over her shoulders. you noticed her nails,

but didn’t catch a glimpse of what she did with them.

“what uh…” you started, feeling a lump forming in

your throat. you tried to gulp it down and she looked

at you.

“what color did you do your nails?” you asked. she

looked down at them, seeing her face freeze.

“f/c. the marble.. i was talking about.”

you felt like she kicked you in the stomach. you

shook your head and stood straight.

“velvet. what…what is this? cmon, please.” you

looked her in the eye as your voice broke. you could

tell she was trying to hide an emotion, by the way her

eyebrows twitched and her eyes darted from wall to

wall.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. stop, y/n.”

she said monotonously, sitting down in her vanity

chair and easing a brush through her hair.

“wanna pass me a claw clip?” her tone changed, like

she was completely over it.

you watched her through the mirror, hating how you

felt like a neglected dog. you didn’t bite.

“fine. then i’ll.. i’ll go. crimp will be here soon.” you

picked up your jacket and opened the door.

“no.. no y/n don’t go, don’t go,” she looked panicked

and got up rushing to you , grabbing onto the sleeve

of your jacket. she let go almost instantly. you stood

there, looking at her with your head turned, and you

closed the door, not looking away from her.

“then talk to me.”

“i-i don’t, this isn’t.. good. for my image. for all of

them. i can’t have this, it would cause a wreck in the

media. it won’t work..” she stood so close to you, her

breathing shaky. you furrowed your eyebrows

slightly. it started to click, or so you thought.

“oh. oh, what because your fame is more important

than your feelings? is that it? velvet. you’re better

than this. don’t choose people who love you by first

impression over someone who would walk to the

ends of the earth for—“ she shook her head which

cut you off.

“no, that’s not..” her eyes began to glisten, trying to

fight her worst fear.

“i wish you were a boy.”

your blood ran cold. as if things couldn’t get any

worse, she pulls that card. you stood there like an

idiot; when you should’ve walked away there and

then. you couldn’t get yourself to.

“oh.” you couldn’t tell if you genuinely spoke or if it

was in your head. she batted her eyelashes at you

and it was similar to knives being plummeted in your

throat.

“this is just how it’s supposed to be. you’re supposed

to help me with clothes and makeup and be my

fashion designer , i just do what im—“

“i could make you feel more than any man ever

could. you know that.” you became slightly

aggravated. you knew she ddint actually want this,

and hell if you did. she turned around and you took

her wrist gently, stepping towards her.

“don’t run from this.”

“y/n, please,”

“we’re meant to be girls together, just try—“

“don’t push this, y/n, y/n i cant —“

“i wasn’t lying.” you said disconnectedly. she looked

back at you.

“if you ever asked me to do something crazy. i’d say

yes. if you asked me to climb mount Everest in a

dress, i’d say yes. if you asked me to be with you,”

you glided your hand down her arm and took her

hand.

“i’d say yes, and i love you.” you could feel the

magnet again, threatening to collapse out of

exhaustion.

“…don’t, don’t…” velvet found herself leaning towards

you with tears smudged at her waterline. and she

kissed you. and she kissed you with a sigh, with a

broken promise. a single tear from her fell to your

cheek, and somehow that pulled you closer together.

you broke apart, looking into eachother eyes, and

didn’t notice your hands squeezing with intertwined

fingers. you rose her hand up and pushed it against

her chest.

“figure yourself out first. you can’t rip my heart out

then eat it.” your own words hurt to say, but you

knew if things would work out, both of you needed

this.

she looked hurt, keeping her hand to her chest even

when you pulled yours away. velvet wiped her face

and cleared her throat. “okay.”

the door swung open.

“god damn janitors, jesus chr.. i just fell on my ass,

vel. no one knows how to dry floors apparently.”

veneer burger in whining , crimp following behind

him. you looked at him, then back at velvet.

who was staring at her nails.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　

holy poop that took longer than it should’ve to write.. i’m sorry friends school and work is stressful and i’m trying to find time to work on this stuff 😞 anyway i loved writing this sm i think i captured velvets crudeness and soft side pretty well lolz, i’ll rewrite a happy ending if a lot of u want one bc i have so much tooth rotting fluff ideas for her 💗💗 anywayyyy im getting a couple of requests so ill make sure to get to them <3 TYSM FOR TJE SUPPORT AHAIN ILY ALL