#its shit post o'clock

[kinomorebi]

Character study

Sum up a character dynamic with one gif: Kyrie and Qimir.

Ft. @nightmarefuele

[the-holy-ghosted]

GUESS WHOS BACK AND MAD AS HELL?

[cloudbattrolls]

I'm not your holy roller (Holy roller) Hallelujah (Hallelujah) I'm not your holy roller (Holy roller) Bring a message to ya (Hallelujah)

You oughta know (Hallelujah) Yeah, you best believe (Holy roller) My heart stays at home But my soul is all alone with me

Maybe this was a bad idea.

[whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go]

I want to be strange and unsettling yet beautiful like an old memory. You long for me but at the same time you're scared to remember too much, scared of going back. You look at me directly and I dissappear.

[fleurhcss]

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐨 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 - Seungmin x FEM!Reader

cw: some cunty and kinky shit, very hard sex, best friends to lovers, very possessive and hard dom seungmin with a sweet trait (im sorry i love my minnie), bratty reader, you are really a whore, stripper reader, mention of alchool and jealousy, handcuff

sw: hair pulling, pinv, cunnilingus, oral (M! receving), orgasm denial, multiple orgasm, scratching, biting, marking, bit of blood cuz seungmin is very kinky bastard MDNI!

wc: 7k

synopsis: Financially, you are not doing well. In addition to your part-time job, you attend some clubs in the evenings in order to earn a little more money. You do not mind showing off, as you love receiving compliments from men and finding new partners with whom to engage in sexual intercourse in order to satisfy your sexual frustrations. Your closest friend, Seungmin, is unaware of these circumstances. Given his protective nature, it is likely that he would take extreme measures to protect you. One unexpected outcome of the situation is that the individual in question has become a possessive dominant. He unintentionally discovers the extent of your job. This results in a particularly harsh fuck between the two, during which he is merciless. Your initial perception of him was that of a kind and gentle individual. However, upon further reflection, it becomes evident that he is, in fact, a complex and intriguing character. His actions and demeanor often elicit a strong emotional response, including feelings of intense arousal and even physical sensations such as bleeding.

a/n: hiii, I'm writing this since the chanel event! I'm sorry if i take request so sloowly but it's exam ses. now! Hope you will like this, i had fun writing it 🫶🏻🩷 made especially for this cutie @chrizzztopherbang . I opened a ko-fi account, i will post there some stories and drawings, if you want to support me i will be grateful to anyone who wants to give me tips, ITS NOT OBLIGATORY

[ SMUT ]

Another day at one of your many jobs. Lately you have been having financial problems. These included paying for university fees, rent, food, bills and other necessities. To supplement your income, you have been working four different jobs: bartending, librarian, after-school care every other day, and nightclub work every night. Your friends were unaware of this aspect of your life, as it caused you considerable embarrassment to discuss it. However, you did not feel uncomfortable about it. The practice of tipping for extra services was beneficial, although not all men were comfortable with it. Some men were able to satisfy the sexual frustrations of the women with whom they engaged in such activities. At this point, you were in the midst of a professional endeavour, helping high school students to improve their GPAs. It is remarkable that these students held you in such high esteem. Despite the exhaustion that inevitably accompanied the work, you found great satisfaction in your role. As you corrected the maths exercises of the esteemed Hana, an Anglo-Korean girl whom you held in high esteem and who always presented you with exquisite drawings, you contemplated the future once you had completed your current task.

At nine o'clock in the evening you were expected at one of the clubs in the city centre for your usual performance. In addition to the attractive salary, this job had another important advantage: you had always been passionate about dancing, and this was the closest thing you had to it. However, you had been forced to give up dancing for lack of time and money. After finishing the boys' homework and explaining some philosophical concepts and mathematical formulas, you retired to bed to get some rest. Fortunately, it was still six o'clock, allowing you to rest after an already exhausting day. You had studied in the morning, worked in the afternoon and now, in a few hours, you would resume your night work. The strange absence of your best friend's usual appearance or phone call had not yet occurred. At least he was fine. Seungmin was your best friend. He had two different personalities: during the day he was a polite and wealthy individual who showed considerable intelligence and respect; at night, when he was with his friends, he became a kind of Don Giovanni heartthrob. There is no denying that he had a certain appeal.

He was very protective of you and never allowed other men to interfere in your romantic life. As a result, he was the first to not know of your secret occupation. It is difficult to predict how he might have reacted, and it may have been for the best that he was not informed. If he ever discovered your secret, he would hunt down the men you were with one by one, and the outcome of that hunt was uncertain. He would then turn his attention to you, giving you a good-natured lecture and possibly resorting to other forms of intimidation. Your best friend was able to make him feel afraid, although you had learned this not from him but from Jisung, Seungmin's best friend, who had been caught having sex with his professor in Seungmin's car. You still remember his displeased behaviour and you were reluctant to provoke him further.

However, your premature declaration of triumph was premature, for he had not telephoned, but had arrived at your home just as you were about to fall into a deep sleep. The most disturbing aspect of the situation was the fact that you had given him the keys to your home, as he had been your closest friend for several years. So there was no need for you to get up and open the door for him, as he suddenly walked into your room in his gym clothes. This was somewhat unexpected, as he had previously expressed no interest in going to the gym. He himself noticed your puzzled expression at his unusual post-gym attire and appearance. "Good afternoon! Don't look at me with such disdain, Changbin Hyung is forcing Jisung, Felix and me to work out with him because he says we're too skinny," and you were overcome with laughter. The aforementioned were remarkably thin, consisting of two adorable little men with minimal musculature. They looked like little fairies, including Changbin, who seemed to have exaggerated musculature. Seungmin was considerably taller than the others and had broad shoulders. The image of him working out with them was quite funny.

"It's funny to consider the prospect of you working out with them. It is equally amusing to consider the prospect of you doing any kind of training at all, considering your past dislike of training," you concluded, making yourself comfortable and making room for your friend to sit next to you on the bed. He gave you a friendly pat on the arm and pouted in a way that was both endearing and characteristic of him. You had coined the term "Seungballons" to describe this particular pout, as it resembled a balloon. Furthermore, the addition of a pout in the form of a kiss would invariably render one unconscious. You found this behaviour endearing, and it prompted you to engage in a reciprocal act of affection by kissing him on the cheeks. "Ugh, in the end I have to admit that it is not without merit. It is a long-standing affair that is difficult to notice because of my tendency to wear baggy clothes. However, I have gained a considerable amount of muscle mass. Look." He said as he lifted the shirts he was wearing, causing you to be quite shocked because, yes, your friend had two pecs and a well-developed six-pack. His physical appearance provoked a strong emotional response, but he was your closest friend and you were unable to entertain such thoughts.

"You must tell Changbin that he has done an excellent job with you," you swallowed, made a feigned smile and drank some water, trying to erase the image of your best friend's partially naked body from your mind - although you did not mind. "I will, and I am grateful to you, my dear . Although we're going to a club tomorrow night; would you like to come?" he asked. You froze, considering the possibility of being caught. However, they did not usually frequent such places, so you had some protection if your luck did not turn against you. "I would like to tell you that I am unable to attend. I have a full day's work and then I have to prepare for an upcoming exam. Nevertheless, I would be interested to know where you are going, if I may ask." "I am not sure. Binnie Hyung informed us that he had discovered a new place and we were curious to know more about it," Seungmin said thoughtfully, and you felt a sense of relief that you still had the opportunity to withdraw.

But you were not convinced by your friend's desperate expression; you suspected he was hiding something. "Are you okay, Min?" you asked as you adjusted his bangs. "Yes, and I am worried about the taste of some of my hyungs, to be honest," he replied, leading you onto the bed and initiating a bout of tickling. That afternoon, your thoughts were not on the information your friend had given you. Instead, you found yourself contemplating his toned, naked chest. You had not anticipated his physical attractiveness, especially given his previous behaviour. You had grown accustomed to his puppy-dog appearance, with its endearingly youthful features.

So you did not consider the possibility that he might have been working out.

It was obvious that the ensemble suited him. Seungmin already had broad shoulders and one of your vices was to lean on them when watching a film or going out. It was a habit you had developed, but it was not a common occurrence. "Please don't change the subject. I'm curious about Changbin's tastes."

You giggled and pulled yourself together again. Seungmin was no innocent, so he blushed slightly.

His former partners had confirmed this to you, as they had discussed his sexual performance in great detail. However, he was ashamed to discuss certain topics in public or with you, as you were his best friend. He saw you as an innocent girl, which you were not. "Let's say he has a taste for strippers and nightclubs. That is all I am saying, and I am aware that it is a rather embarrassing subject".

He finished by running his hand over his face, making you chuckle.

"As if you had never seen a woman without her clothes on." You made the claim. In fact, he had observed numerous instances of female nudity, including those of his romantic partners.

"Yes, but I was with them. I am not like Hyung who has adventures with women who lap dance for him in night clubs". Had he been aware of this, he would have realised that this is exactly what you do for a living. "You have never considered fucking a woman you are not romantically involved with and who is not your girlfriend?" you inquired as you began to manipulate the fabric of his suit. "No, I'm... shy," he replied, biting his lip. He was looked at with a certain amount of disbelief.

" You! are shy?" you asked, looking at him with an expression that even he, as your closest friend, could not interpret. "Yes, I am," he replied, grimacing and then playfully pushing you. "You're really weird, Kim Seungmin," you pushed him back and then initiated a tickling session, blushing as you felt how well trained and sculpted he was under your touch. It was not the first time you had touched a well-trained chest, but Seungmin's did something to you. Maybe it was because he was your closest friend, or maybe it was because he was different from the others you had met, or maybe it was because you were used to seeing him consistently and exclusively as a thin individual with broad shoulders.

It can be argued that, without meaning to, you became preoccupied with fantasies about Seungmin to an extent that was inappropriate. Not only had you been friends for years, but he was one of your closest friends. Although you found it difficult to erase certain images of him from your mind, you felt guilty about thinking about him in a certain way. It is also worth noting that your nighttime occupation presented certain challenges. It would be highly undesirable for any of your friends, especially Seungmin, to become aware of your nighttime activities. On reflection, Seungmin had mentioned visiting a nightclub. If he were to find you on duty at one of the clubs where you were a regular, your situation would be untenable. It is unclear how Seungmin perceived you, but it is unlikely that he saw you as a dancer in one of the clubs that your best friend's best friend appreciated.

He suddenly asked what he should wear, causing you to look at him with a certain amount of concern. Your best friend was known for his occasional eccentricities. "Excuse me, but do I look like an expert on nightclubs to you?" you inquired, your tone betraying a certain concern. "No, but as a woman you might have the knowledge to dress me in a manner that would impress," he replied, almost shyly, though his demeanour betrayed his true feelings. "So my dear Min wants to impress a girl?" you inquired, playfully pinching his cheek as you laughed. He looked at you with a look of displeasure. "I am a man and I have not fucked for several months. I have certain... needs. By the way, it is undoubtedly a challenge for me to refrain from emotional connection during fucks. However, I cannot resist certain urges. Perhaps at the end of the night I can get a positive response from someone," he said in a low voice, his hands covering his face. "Are you really saying that you want to fuck while being all shy, Kim Seungmin?" You laughed in his face for the umpteenth time. "What do you want? It seems like you haven't fucked for a long time." He tousled your hair, but watching your expression closely, he returned it with a confused one, to say the least.

The problem was that you lacked the ability to lie effectively, especially in the context of deceiving him. As a result, you often displayed peculiar facial expressions that he was able to read with remarkable clarity. "Oh my God, fuck! You fucked with someone and didn't tell me?" he asked, his expression showing more anger than offence. "That is not true. You are imagining these events," you replied, trying to maintain a neutral expression. "Yes, you did. You fucked and did not tell me about it. You know you cannot lie to me, Y/N," he said, biting his lip with an expression that was both serious and intense. The atmosphere had become noticeably more intense, with a palpable sense of unease and tension. You were in a compromising situation and had placed yourself in a vulnerable position. You could have been sure that you felt the first drops of perspiration forming on your face. However, you were forced to end the discussion before it got to the heart of the matter. The most expedient course of action was to acknowledge that it had happened, even if in a limited way. "It happened on a few occasions when I was drunk, but it was not a regular occurrence," you said, trying to give a concise account. Nevertheless, he was not inclined to inquire about the incident in question.

"Only a few times when you were drunk? Are you crazy? What if something had happened to you?" There was the protective Seungmin you wanted to avoid. You were grateful for his concern and lack of complaints, but sometimes it became unbearable. "Still, it didn't happen. I am mature enough to understand the consequences of my actions, Seungmin," you said, pointing at him with your finger as if to admonish him. "Yes, I am aware of that, but I am concerned for your well-being," he said, grabbing your arm and then taking a bite. It could be described as a unique form of affection with which he expressed his apology to you. "I am aware, Seung, but don't worry, I am fully aware of my actions," you smiled at him, taking his face in your hand and planting a kiss on his forehead. "You should return home, as you are in a rather foul state, Mr Gym," you playfully admonished him, giving him a light tap on the shoulder before he left your domicile.

The working day was going to be quite long.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You were deeply distressed and felt considerable discomfort throughout your body. At work the night before, you were forced to work an extended overtime shift (for which you were paid only half the normal rate). This resulted in a complex set of experiences, including physical pain and a significant financial reward. You were required to have sexual intercourse with two people, a task which you found unpleasant, particularly given the lack of arousal involved. However, the remuneration was satisfactory and you did not express any significant dissatisfaction. You were aware that the nature of the work was inequitable, but you found it necessary and occasionally used it as a means of satisfying certain desires. Fortunately, you had acquired the ability to fake an orgasm, which you used on some occasions, such as yesterday. At that time you were lying in bed, surrounded by books for your upcoming exam, and in a few hours you would have to go to work in the morning.

That night, despite your best efforts, you had to go to a club in the city centre. You had completely forgotten that Changbin was going to take Seungmin and the others to a club in the city centre, which could very well have been the one you were on duty at that night. However, you had not considered this possibility and your mind was so preoccupied that it kept slipping away. So you prepared discreetly for your exam, unaware that that night was the perfect opportunity for you to meet your closest friend, who was likely to be visibly distressed. You were due to perform your duties that afternoon and hoped that the number of customers would be relatively small, given your limited mobility.

The mere anticipation of returning to work that night caused a deep sense of anxiety. You hoped that no one would ask for private shows or other activities that you sometimes found unpleasant. The only desire was to rest and wake in a pool of wealth. You rose listlessly to prepare your lunch. It was not possible to combine work and rest in this way, so you had to take painkillers and vitamins.

You then found yourself preparing and serving smoothies and ice creams in your favourite café. Your day went on as usual. What you did not anticipate was the presence of your closest friend at the table you were to serve. One might ask whether you should not have been preparing for your evening activities. One is tempted to inquire about the nature of their joint venture in a café a few hours before their nightclubbing. They expressed their displeasure at the proprietor's suggestion that they should hurry to serve the aforementioned table, and furthermore, they could not avoid the situation, as Seungmin was aware that this was a table assigned to you, and sat there consistently with the intention of being served.

After a long period of contemplation, you approached them. "Good evening, shouldn't you be getting ready for your clubbing night?" you said, your tone sarcastic. Your friend smiled at you and pinched your side. You wanted to run away. "Jisung is unable to consume alcohol unless he has had a meal or smoothie beforehand," Felix informed him, drawing a scornful look from him. "It is not recommended to consume alcohol on an empty stomach." The boy explained that alcohol is absorbed more quickly into the bloodstream and the effects of intoxication are more pronounced. "Isn't that the point of going to nightclubs? And who told you this? Your respected professor?" the older boy asked jokingly. They looked at each other with a strange expression and Seungmin continued to explain the matter: Jisung had a somewhat unconventional relationship with one of his university professors, characterised by frequent flirting. "I have to respectfully disagree. Minho is a very good professor," he replied, blushing. Her expression was unmistakable. "You're calling him by his first name now, too," he observed, causing a general outburst of mirth, especially the adorable blush on Jisung's chubby cheeks.

"So what can I get for you?" you inquired, interrupting the conversation to take their orders and get out of your friend's company. You were particularly keen to avoid the question from your friend, who would undoubtedly invite you to the evening's event.

You had only been there a few minutes when you noticed Seungmin casting furtive glances in your direction and his friends teasing him about something you did not understand. Unbeknownst to you, they were teasing him about the fleeting glances he was sending your way. "Seungmin, did you notice that you are eating her with your eyes?" inquired Felix, appropriating the cherry from his milkshake. "That's not right," he replied, taking a sip from his glass. "Indeed it is. One might suggest that you ask her out," the blonde continued. "That would be an unusual and somewhat awkward situation, and then I believe she might be involved in a nocturnal affair, or perhaps even a series of them," he said, lowering his head. "And you are jealous! "Which leads to the question if this is what you want to do tonight," Changbin inquired. "Be silent. It is possible that I am indeed jealous. "

The observed behaviour was merely the incessant movement of lips in an attempt to escape the source of discomfort as quickly as possible. Fortunately, twenty minutes later the group left and Seungmin offered you a quick kiss on the cheek. This sparked further merriment among his small group of friends, causing you to become increasingly suspicious. Your only concern was to avoid running into them at the nightclub where you were working that night. This had been your intention since yesterday, since your closest friend had informed you of it. Your anxiety about this matter was greater than your concern about your inability to dance effectively due to the discomfort of the previous night.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

In the midst of your preparations for the upcoming show, you were forced to change your clothes in a hurry. Fortunately, you had already finished your make-up. The evening dress was of a revealing nature and the dancing was expected to be energetic. It was hoped that the wearer would not feel uncomfortable. Your colleague entered your dressing room and informed you that you were about to perform, so you began your usual stage performance for adolescent and middle-aged males.

The only people missing were those you expected to see at the club. The only discernible difference was that they were watching you, watching you with particular interest, especially your closest friend, who opened his eyes wide as he consumed no less than two shots in the space of three minutes. "What is she doing there?" he asked, clenching his fists as he fixed his gaze on you. "I'm sure there must be an explanation, and maybe she didn't tell you because she didn't want you to worry," Jisung said, grabbing his shoulders behind Changbin as Seungmin seemed on the verge of exploding. "She's undeniably attractive," the shorter one remarked, drawing a withering look from the younger one. "Hyung, I strongly recommend you not to make any advances towards her. It is already difficult enough for me not to pick her up from the stage, but I assure you that as soon as she goes to the dressing room, I will not let her get away from me." He downed another shot of vodka.

It is unfortunate that at the end of your nightly performance, another person followed you into the dressing room and you failed to notice the presence of Seungmin, who was standing directly behind you and had suddenly issued a silent threat. The incident was so severe that when you turned around you suffered a stroke and lost the ability to speak. Your situation was indeed very screwed up. "Seungmin, I can..." you were abruptly interrupted and led to your dressing room where he sat you down at your personal table. His gaze was one of intense desire, imbued with the combined effects of alcohol and rage. You had never seen him in such a state. "Explain? What exactly do you want to explain to me? Explain how you sold your body without ever telling me?" He said, grabbing your waist. That should not have aroused you.

"I have economic problems and this is the only job that offers a satisfactory salary," you said in your defence. "I am indifferent to the matter. I could have helped". You are my property, OK? No one is allowed to touch you, Y/N". He then kissed you with considerable passion and force. This was a source of considerable distress for you, as it was different from your expectations of the situation. Although you experienced a degree of pleasure, the situation remained somewhat unusual. His hands were of considerable size and appeared to be a suitable instrument for caressing. "Why not? Who decided that I belong to you?" you inquired in a teasing manner. At this point the situation became increasingly amusing for you as well. "I must now erase the memory of this unclean contact before I had the opportunity to do so," he whispered into your ear before reaching down into the hollow of your neck and allowing you to ingest the substance. "Seungmin, my legs are tired. I am unable to walk," you informed him, indicating your own limitations. "There are numerous other ways to satisfy our mutual desires, and we will address this particular issue at a later time." Furthermore, I am. While I wish to destroy you, I would never take advantage of a woman in this state. Remarkably, he remained in character as the usual Seungmin knight.

"What are you going to do in my dressing room?" you asked, watching as he bent down between your thighs and pulled off the suit you had worn for the evening. "I am not sure. I have a craving, if I may be so bold as to say." He smiled. This young man you had previously considered a potential threat to your sanity. He found your body aesthetically pleasing. He began another insatiable and passionate kiss. His hands descended in a sweeping motion, tracing a path down your body, cupping your thighs and gradually rising to your buttocks, which he gripped firmly in a vice-like grip. "Your beauty is such that it is unconscionable to wait any longer. I want you and I want to play a little," Seungmin said with a sneer in his voice. Then he moved you to the small sofa with the instruction to straddle his body. He proceeded to kiss your neck, leaving a series of marks. It was inevitable that he would bite you, it was apparently a habit of his. You had learnt it from his exes. He would bite you to let you know he owned you, bite you until you bled, and lick the mess he made. This aroused you considerably. He smiled, indicating that he understood. You were in a state where he could do as he pleased. No other person had ever made you feel such intense arousal.

"Look at you, you are ready for me to do anything I want to you." He was not aware of this either.

The young man moved closer to you, initiating another passionate kiss as he cupped your neck with one hand and used the other to caress your intimacy. The movements were slow at first, but soon accelerated as your best friend removed your panties and quickly stroked your clit. When he became tired, he began a long series of kisses on your inner thighs. He then grabbed your thighs and brought them up to his shoulders. He then began to leave kisses on your vagina. "Please don't wait any longer," you said and Seungmin laughed and then began to lick your cunt in a long slow motion. He cupped your ass as he massaged it. You had been waiting for this moment ever since he had put his thin, large hands on your waist the day before.

"Seungmin, please..." you almost begged him before arching your back in a series of involuntary gasps, clinging to the back of the sofa as best you could. You looked at him, pressing harder against his face, wanting more and more. He laughed as he watched the reactions he was provoking in you with each touch, which only served to increase his desire to possess you. He grinned as he continued what he had begun. His hands were firmly harpooned in your bottom and thanks to the pleasure you were experiencing, you had thrown your head back. He laughed again as his tongue continued its work. He found the taste of you on his taste buds particularly delicious, sending him into a state of intense pleasure. He was deeply and passionately in love with you, with every aspect of your being. His nose came into contact with your pubic hair as a result of the depth of penetration achieved with his tongue. He was enjoying himself to a considerable degree, as evidenced by your moans and the pulling of strands of his hair. Seungmin was not uncomfortable with this aspect of your behaviour, in fact he found it erotic in a special way. He smiled as his tongue explored your orifice in slow, circular movements designed to bring you to a state of ecstasy. Seungmin silently enjoyed the experience. His only goal was to ensure your pleasure. His hands moved to the sides of your thighs, which he slapped hard. He took pleasure in leaving his marks, but he would never do anything to harm you; he worshipped you.

Then his hands moved in a circular motion, grasping your thighs and placing them on your shoulders. His mouth, which had previously been in contact with your clit, moved to sink his teeth into your inner thigh. He took pleasure in leaving his marks on you. No one was allowed to touch his woman; you were his and his alone. You were his. A pocket knife emerged from his boot, the purpose of which was unclear. However, before this could be determined, he took your labia majora between his teeth and pulled them towards him, pressing them against his mouth in order to suck your clitoris. This was done in a manner reminiscent of sucking a straw. He then drew a thin line with the blade of the penknife, leaving a streak of blood, all the way to your mound. This brought you to a state of considerable arousal. He withdrew from your vulva, reached up to begin his work, and began to lick the warm, crimson liquid that was slowly oozing from the wound. In addition, the moans of pain and pleasure you gave him drove him to a state of unprecedented ecstasy. The sensation of your mouth alone was more fulfilling than any other experience. He continued to suck on the blood dripping from the wound, causing further lesions on his breasts, around his nipples, in his groin and near his navel. This only accelerated his orgasm. Furthermore, when he inserted two fingers into your mouth, which was already open, he continued to stimulate your tongue. "Look at you... my submissive slut," he said, smiling.

He sneered as he took your face between his fingers. The picture showed you in a blood-soaked state. After a short interval, he withdrew his fingers and proceeded to stimulate your orifice by alternately inserting and withdrawing his digit. This was done in such a way as to create a deep sense of arousal. Seungmin was fascinated by the prospect of fucking you at that moment. "What is your desire, my princess?" "Not that you can do much in this state," he said, laughing, referring to his fingers inside you. "I want to touch you," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the constant moaning. "You can do better than that," he winked, then pulled away and sat you down on your side, then stood up, took off his trousers and sat down beside you. You stood frozen for a moment at the sight of his length; he was tall and compact. You had never seen one like it before.

"I see you are happy with it, Princess," he said, bringing your face close to his. You had fully perceived what he was trying to achieve. You were fully aware of his intentions. You were incapable of uttering any further words, as if his imposing stature had put you in a state of trance. He then proceeded to rub the head of his member against your lips in what appeared to be a teasing manner. It was not difficult for you to open your lips and make contact with the glans. You then proceeded to suck on the tip and then ran your tongue along the entire circumference and veins. You stimulated the testicles with your hands, causing him to moan hoarsely. As you continued to insert him fully into your mouth until you reached the uvula, you let out a moan that caused his member to tremble. This elicited a high-pitched moan from him.

"Fuck, baby like that." He explained that by grabbing your hair and then fucking your mouth, you were sure that you would come again if he continued.Indeed, your assumption proved to be correct.

That is exactly what happened.

"Fuck Y/N, I'm coming, take it off," he said, removing his hand from your hair. But you had no intention of removing your mouth. You grabbed his thighs and thrust his member deep into your throat, causing him to release inside you with a long, audible moan. You swallowed, licked your lips and looked at him. "You are incomprehensibly unaware of the effect you have on me," he winked. "I can, however, inform you of the effect you have on me." You giggled, then reached up to his ear and planted a kiss beneath it. "You have brought me to another orgasm," you said with a hint of mockery.

"Now, if it pleases you, I would be grateful for a date and to clean you up," he smiled as he led you to your private bathroom. "I would be most honoured, sir," you replied, laughing. It was not the ending you had expected.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The experience of being discovered by Seungmin during a night shift would not be on any normal person's bucket list. However, the incident led to a change in your life. Seungmin had persuaded you to quit your job at a nightclub because he was concerned about your welfare and did not want you to be used as a mere object by men. Among other things, he had offered to support you financially until you found suitable alternative employment. He helped you to find a job that offered a comparable income and was adamant that it did not involve the exploitation of your body for sexual gratification. Although you were initially reluctant, given your long-standing opposition to his financial support, you eventually agreed.

The unexpected meeting also took place. He had invited you shortly after your encounter in the dressing room while he was discreetly cleaning up the mess. To be honest, you had never considered Seungmin as a potential romantic partner. However, your perspective had gradually changed over time. Back then, his friends, who were also your friends, had informed you that he had been casting furtive glances at you and had developed an interest in you. This confused you at first, but you eventually got used to it. You also had to prepare mentally for the meeting.

You did not deny that you were a little apprehensive; you were unsure of the destination he had in mind for this evening. He had instructed you to dress in a way that was both comfortable and tasteful, but your anxiety was growing. After a long shower, you began to look through your wardrobe, but it was difficult to choose an outfit without knowing where you were going. In the end, however, you chose a relatively simple ensemble consisting of a black ruffled skirt, not too short, and a top of the same colour that left your shoulders bare and had a boat neckline. You wore your beloved wedges. If you had to choose between them and heels, based on what Seungmin had told you about elegance and comfort, you would have chosen the latter. Your make-up was minimal, your hair was wavy and fell to your shoulders, your necklace was tightly fastened around your neck and all your jewellery was in its proper place. You completed your ensemble with a fruity and very sugary perfume before heading into the living room to wait for your no longer best friend.

Seungmin arrived shortly afterwards with a large bouquet of roses, in keeping with his reputation as a gallant man. You smiled as you remembered that he had not been in bed with you, especially after the knife performance. He said, "For you, my princess," and then kissed you on the lips. The anticipation of the evening's events had been palpable, yet the simplicity of the act itself evoked a deep sense of emotional resonance. The culmination of this experience was the tender kiss beneath the earlobe, accompanied by the words, "I hope you are well prepared as we have a long night ahead of us".

It was your firm belief that if he had continued to talk to you like this throughout the evening, you would have been so aroused that you would have removed your underwear, even if there had been no physical contact. In fact, you sighed before placing the roses in a vase of water and accompanying him to the car. It was a revelation to you that the vehicle in question was of considerable size. It was also admitted that Seungmin looked particularly handsome that night. He was wearing a black tank top and loose black trousers. His appearance was complemented by a leather jacket and jewellery. His footwear consisted of half-heeled ankle boots, which were as black as the rest of his outfit. His hair was lightly gelled and curly. He was a man of considerable qualities and attributes. You licked your lips and he watched, giving you the opportunity to do so. It was inevitable that he would drive you out of your mind as soon as he could.

There was no denying that the car ride had contributed to the evening's events. He held your thigh firmly in his hand and massaged your skin, occasionally reaching under the fabric of your skirt. He was aware that this was having a positive effect on you and you were similarly pleased by the experience. He felt a sense of predatory intent, like a predator with a vulnerable prey in his grasp.

The evening was going well. He had taken you to a modest restaurant at an elevated location, and you had enjoyed a sumptuous meat dish accompanied by an excellent wine. It was obvious that he had not missed the opportunity to cast certain glances at you as he sipped the vin rouge in his glass. He continued to look at you in an increasingly intimidating manner. The conversation went well and you had always enjoyed his company. The topics were varied and engaging, even when a situation had developed between you that couldn't be defined with a specific term. However, it seemed that Seungmin had anticipated your thoughts, as he initiated a discussion on the matter. "Considering that this is a full-fledged date, I would like to suggest that we raise the status of our relationship to boyfriend and girlfriend. I don't think there's any need for a proper dating, as I'm aware of your preferences," he said, raising his eyebrows as he took another sip of wine. "I agree, except for one thing: you do not know me well enough to have discovered my clandestine activities." You provoked him, knowing how the subject would arouse his jealousy. "I did not expect you to go so far." "I have always thought of you as my princess and hoped that you would eventually ask for my help." He wrinkled his nose. "Minie, it is important for me to be able to support myself. I am grateful for your help, but once I have secured employment, I would prefer you to stop helping me, okay?" you smiled with a pout in response.

Perhaps I should pay and we could go to my place?" he asked, smiling, before wiping his lips and getting to his feet. You did the same, but were stopped by him. He took your hand and kissed it before leading you to the exit. "This dinner is a date, and I am paying as usual. You are my friend and I will treat you properly," he said, making you blush. The gentleman in question displayed admirable behaviour and etiquette when dealing with women. He knew how to treat women with the respect and consideration they deserved. It is worth noting that in addition to the bedroom activities mentioned above, you had also gained an understanding of his somewhat eccentric behaviour outside the bedroom. You then waited outside the restaurant for him to return. He reappeared shortly afterwards, accompanied by a second bottle of red wine. "It was an excellent meal, and I have a plan for tonight. You'll see what I'm capable of, my dear," he said with a chuckle, then led you to the car and drove you both to his home.

To say that he did not even allow you the opportunity to survey the surroundings, despite your intimate familiarity with the house, was an understatement.

He immediately picked you up and carried you to his bed.

He then disappeared, returning with two goblets of wine.That night will remain indelibly etched in your memory.You watched as Seungmin took off his jacket and black shirt, leaving the vision to his well defined abs and the glittering necklace he was wearing.As you watched him take a sip of wine after almost completely undressing, you had to admit that his actions made your entire body tremble. Your panties were now soaked. "Now, Princess, undress for me," he said, grinning and licking his lips.He then lay on the bed with one hand behind his head and the other holding the goblet.

By this time the positions had been reversed, with the man on the bed watching your every move while you knelt in front of him, removing each piece of clothing until you were completely naked in front of him.

"How beautiful, come closer," he murmured. You approached him on all fours, the naked intimacy of your body matching his, still fully clothed. He watched you for a long time, as if to etch your image into his memory. You smiled and shivered as he began a gentle caress of your form. He caressed your cheek, shoulder and breasts in that order. He then moved to the other breast with his free hand, having previously placed the cup on the table. He began to massage it at a slow and deliberate pace, appreciating the texture of your skin. He then teased your nipple with his fingers, before pouncing on it with his lips and doing the same to the other. One hand, which had previously been at the back of your neck, now moved to your waist, where it began to caress it. His touch was so seductively overpowering that it left you breathless. He applied pressure to your hip as his lips played with your breasts. He then moved to your shoulders, biting and branding them. Your hands were clenched in his shoulders, scratching them lightly as you rubbed your vulva against the covered flap of his trousers. "Wait a moment, I want to feel you on me," he whispered in your ear.

He separated your bodies for a brief moment, then proceeded to undress you completely, allowing your intimacies to collide. "How about riding me?" he asked, smiling and winking. Your lips parted in surprise at the mere suggestion. It was highly unlikely that you would have survived the night. Seungmin was like a mermaid whose enchanting song was meant to captivate and enchant. You swallowed and then nodded in agreement. You applied gentle pressure to the head of his penis between your labia, causing you to pant and eliciting a moan from the Major. He had brought one arm back behind your head while the other held you tightly against him, increasing the contact. You lowered yourself completely onto him, allowing him to enter and fuck you completely, which he did with considerable force. Your moans mingled, accompanied by a soft exclamation of "Fuck!" from him. "Your cunt is both tight and warm, which feels very good. You should start to move," he instructed, and you complied. Normally such an act would have been abhorrent to you, but with him it was all so natural.

As he stroked your hips, you had begun to move at a slower pace. It was a sensation you had never experienced with any other partner. It was as if Seungmin had an innate understanding of the exact places and techniques needed to touch you. Your movements became faster and faster and your nails were driven into his back. "Min, I'm coming. I can feel it. My thighs are burning. Please, speed up!" You were on the verge. "No, not yet," you grunted, then changed positions. You vocalised your displeasure as he withdrew from your embrace, feeling a sense of emptiness. At this point you were positioned beneath him as he continued to penetrate you, his imposing frame towering over you.

You were sure that an orgasm was imminent, given his position on top of you as he thrust vigorously into you. However, he seemed to disagree, indicating that he was not interested in facilitating an orgasm. He claimed that it was too early for such a reaction. So he withdrew from you, leaving you with an empty feeling. "Please, Seung, I can no longer stand it," you begged him. Only after he had pushed you with an animal force did he give you permission to come. "Your warmth and tightness are so arousing...come for me," he whispered, allowing you to release yourself around him. He informed you that they had not yet reached the end of the act. He then turned you over on your stomach and began to leave bites and marks on your back, tracing a trail of them all over your ass. He continued to lick and slap the area between your buttocks, causing you to moan. Despite this, you still had some residual sensitivity from the previous orgasm.

You were unable to speak as he sank back into you, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling it towards him as he thrust violently, abusing your cunt. You arched your back and rolled your eyes, no one had ever given you such intense pleasure. "Ah... Seungmin... please..." you moaned one last time before you came again. "Who gave you permission?" he demanded, thrusting at a surprisingly fast pace. It was relatively easy for you to reach your third orgasm in a row that night. "Seungmin, I'm about to..." The words were barely audible.

"Come with me," he groaned and then proceeded to ejaculate into you and you after him, now exhausted. "I will get you the necessary cleaning supplies," he murmured, then stroked your side and got a cloth soaked in warm, damp water to clean you. He then tied your hair into a braid and made you a cup of hot tea after dressing you in a pair of clean briefs and one of his shirts. "You look so lovely," you murmured, trying to relax on his chest. "It's the least I can do after making you come how many times?" he said, laughing as he pinched your side. "Three, but don't boast, sir," you gave him a tongue-lashing. "Do all gentlemen do it rough?" you burst out laughing.

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk @chrizzztopherbang @skzooluvr @yoontaethings @ovr9000

[thriftedtchotchkes]

since seeing that pic of pedro’s arms I’ve literally been FERAL all day…. would it be possible for you to write something short about joel’s arms? 🫶🏽 (maybe like how they look when he holds you, when you guys make love, when he’s working, when you hold hands etc) is this weird or even possible idk I just love arms

hi lovely anon!! read this and immediately ran to write it, but i uhhhh missed the part where you said short and went a lil ham. hope you enjoy!

here in your arms

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, language, fluff, mentions of body insecurities, comfort, smut, lots and lots of arm touching

word count: 1.8k

It’s hot as all hell in this bedroom, but you’re choosing to ignore it this morning. You’ll gladly sweat to death, even melt into a damn puddle if it means that Joel’s very warm, very naked body stays wrapped around you. 

As long as you can relish his thigh nestled between your legs, and those thick, thick arms pillowed under your head and draped over your waist. You’d burn in hell for all you care. Careful not to wake him, you turn your head slowly to press a kiss into his bicep, and the muscle twitches against your lips. 

The sudden movement startles a soft gasp out of you and fills you with heat so much worse than the stifling humidity in the air. You go completely still, holding your breath for a few moments while you wait to see if he wakes up, but the rise and fall of his chest maintains its steady rhythm against your back. Curiously, you lean in to kiss him a second time and, shit, there it goes again. 

An intrusive thought suddenly pops into your sleep-addled brain, telling you how good it would feel to sink your teeth into the firm, velvety skin. How salty it would taste on your tongue, and how he would probably unconsciously resist you, that twitch becoming a full-blown flex. You give into it before you can stop yourself, roughly biting a bruise into his arm, sucking hard when the muscle spasms into your mouth.

And that definitely wakes him up.

“Christ—w-what the—,” he rips his arm out from under you, and you immediately mourn the loss as your head flops onto his pillow. “—what…baby, the fuck was that for?”

You turn over, looking up at him sheepishly. He looks bleary-eyed, his soft, graying curls in complete disarray, but you can't bring yourself to feel particularly bad. That was totally worth it.

He eyes you expectantly when you don’t immediately answer, still looking dazed and a little stunned after being woken up so abruptly.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” he asks again, voice slurred and thick with sleep. He's propped up on his elbow above you, bicep still in reach, so you press an apologetic kiss into his reddening skin...and your teeth marks.

"I...honestly, I got nothing," you laugh, nuzzling into the crook of his elbow, mouthing wetly around the edges of the bruise. "It was right next to my face, so I kinda just went for it."

Your tongue darts out to taste him and it's even better than you thought, heady and so distinctly Joel, so you continue your path, shifting to the side to brush your lips along his forearm. He tenses, almost imperceptibly, but you feel it keenly, the intricately corded muscles shifting under his tanned, weather-worn skin. 

"You could take it as a compliment," you continue, tilting your head to throw him a cheeky smile. He quirks an eyebrow as if to ask how waking him up at ass o'clock in the morning on his day off could be complimentary. "I'm just admiring all that work you've been putting in on those extra patrol shifts."

He looks a little dubious, and it makes your heart ache. For as long as you've known him, and even more so since you've been together, Joel's never been great with praise, especially when it comes to his body. Maybe it's the age difference or just aging, but he wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable with you for a long time, emotionally or physically.

He'd hide himself from you, always mumbling things you hated hearing about the softness of his stomach, the lines adorning his brow, or the skin under his arms, and it would make you furious. How dare he say any of that when you love all of those bits and pieces so much?

So, you've made it your personal mission to make sure he knows exactly how sexy he is whenever you get the chance, whether he's covered in grime and viscera, or completely naked and inside you.

"Probably coulda waited until later, don't'cha think?" There's a tiny smile forming on his tired face, and it encourages you to keep going. 

"Yeah, but isn't this more convincing? You looked so good, I couldn't even help myself," you say, running your fingertips along a beautifully jagged scar that runs right through where you bit him. You squeeze his arm teasingly, and he flexes for you, on purpose this time. "So strong," you joke, your tone completely contradicting the ache worsening in your core.

He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling the thigh still wedged between your legs. That familiar heat from earlier returns with a vengeance as it drags across where you're still slick with last night's release, and you inhale sharply, catching his attention.

"Ya like my arms that much, huh?" he mumbles, voice unexpectedly gravelly, but the way he's looking at you is so fond, full of affection and something a little more complicated.

"I really, really do," you reply softly, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his wrist to drape his other arm over your waist. He wraps himself around you, pulling you tight against his chest, and you feel so tiny in his arms. Protected.

And he feels so powerful. You barely get the chance to nuzzle into the coarse hairs tickling your cheek before you’re flipped on top of him, knees bracketing his hips. Your hands shoot out to steady yourself and land on his shoulders, squeezing once you've settled into his lap.

His eyes meet yours, and there's that complicated look again, the one you still haven't figured out. Your mind races, searching for the answer, until his hands splay across your waist, thick-fingered and broad. 

And then he's lifting you up, just enough to line himself up with your entrance, and easing you down and up until he's fully seated inside you.

You breathe out a sigh of relief in unison, adjusting to the other as sweat drips freely down your bodies. The room is still scorching, even hotter now with the rising sun and your combined exertion. 

That beautiful flush Joel gets when you're intimate has started to spread from his cheeks down to his neck, spilling across his chest and into those perfect goddamn arms, straining with the effort of holding himself back from fucking into you like he wants to.

But you want something, too.

"Joel, can you...," you breathe out, feeling a little shy for asking but needing it badly enough to go through with it anyway. "Fuck, can you do it, please?"

He looks confused but so needy, nodding his head before he even knows what you're asking for. 

"'Course, baby, whatever you want," he grits out, grip tightening on your waist. "Jus' tell me 'n I'll do it."

"Use me. Want you to show me how strong you are—handle me," you suck your bottom lip wetly into your mouth, trailing your fingers from his shoulders downward, digging your nails into the hard planes of his deltoids. He hisses out a breath through his teeth. "Will you do that for me?"

In lieu of an answer, he lurches forward, sitting up with you in his lap to give you exactly what you asked for. And it's better than you ever could've imagined.

The solid muscle in his upper arms bulges as he drives you up and down his cock, and you wrap your hands around them greedily, feeling every expansion and contraction. Your mouth waters as you watch his thick, prominent veins strain against his skin, and you're hit with a sudden, strong urge to bite him again. 

So, you do. You bend down to suck hard at the taught skin, and his responding groan is so loud and drawn out, you feel it rumble beneath your lips.

"Shit—baby, you keep doin' that, 'm not gonna last long," he moans into your ear, still bouncing you on his cock, showing zero signs of slowing down. 

Fuck, how is he so strong? He's lifting you up and down like you're a ragdoll, shaking your entire being with the force, and you clench tighter as you hurtle closer to the edge. You separate your mouth from him to drop your head into the crook of his neck so you can watch him. Watch the raw power flowing through his body, and all those perfect parts he doesn't like about himself work you like no one ever has before.

And he's watching you, too, with so much want and desire, and, ah. That's what it is. That look—it's appreciation. He looks so grateful for you that you want to drown in it, surround yourself with it.

"Good. Hold me," you whimper, muffled as you throw your arms around his shoulders to bury your face into his skin. "Hold me close when you cum." 

He must've been right there, teetering on the cusp, because suddenly his arms snake around you, crushing you to his chest as he pistons up, cumming as deep as he can reach. They tense against you erratically, matching every pulse of his cock as he empties inside you.

He moans softly and sweetly in your ear as you cry out into his, your lower half squeezing him rhythmically as your orgasm crashes over you. You let him grind up into you through the aftershocks until you're both too exhausted to stay upright.

Tipping backward, Joel brings you back down onto the bed with him and rolls you over onto your sides. You smile up at him lazily, still happily nestled up against his chest, and he bends down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Hell of a workout ya just put me through," he mumbles, sounding incredibly amused and thoroughly tired out. 

"Seemed like you enjoyed yourself, though," you snort, shifting just enough that his cock slips out of you, a thick glob of cum dripping onto the sheets. "I know I sure did."

"Yeah, bet ya did," he rolls his eyes, pinching your sides teasingly. "'Specially since I was doin' all the damn work."

"But you were so good at it," you can't help but wriggle your arms out from where they're wedged between your bodies to stroke his arms again. And hopefully his ego. "And you looked so good doing it."

His cheeks tinge that pretty shade of burgundy you love, and you know you hit the mark. He ducks his head down to kiss your cheek.

"Uh-huh. Next time, s'gonna be your workout," he murmurs, sighing as you start to massage his sore muscles. They twitch tiredly under your careful attention. His eyes flutter closed as the heat and exhaustion finally catch up with him, muttering sleepily, "'n I get to enjoy the view."

You lean up to kiss his lips, chaste and gentle.

"Deal."

[certified-sleep-deprived]

《Pavane》

Chapter 1:

Warnings/notes: none unless you hate orchestra stuff??, mentions of weed/smoking pot, Agatha is flirty. I'll post the other two chapters on my break tomorrow because I'm so out of it rn. Gives you guys more time to decide if you want to be on my taglist for this series. This shit ain't proofread... take that as you will.

Wc: 2.2k+

Your eyes were bouncing and rolling around inside of your skull by the time you arrived at your new apartment in downtown St. Paul. No one told you that driving straight through from Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania to the Twin Cities was easy. But, then again, common sense should tell you to at least take a nap break or two in the middle and not just live off of Starbucks as you drive from the East Coast to the Mid-fucking-West. It also didn't help that you were stuck in a traffic jam in Chicago for at least an hour, and then the shit show of a storm you experienced driving through Wisconsin. Safe to say you were beat when you parked your car in the communal garage.

It happened so suddenly: you were sitting in your tiny Stroudsburg apartment when you got the call from the conductor of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra himself to congratulate you on getting in. He said that you had two weeks until you would actually start, and it didn't start to gnaw at you until the call ended and there was time for it to digest in your stomach. Tyler Hayward, conductor of the Orchestra you auditioned for and desperately wanted to get into, called you himself to tell you that you got in. It was surreal.

His vocal warning of the two-week deadline was what got you scrambling on the internet about housing near the concert hall where you would be playing at.

You had found a cheap, dingy apartment in downtown St. Paul. It was not ideal, but you told yourself it was only temporary until you could afford something better.

So, here you are now, in the garage of said apartment, ready to knock the fuck out in the driver seat of your Ford Focus, and all of your things, including your cello, in the back.

You were perfectly content with falling asleep in the seat, it even felt like it was encouraging you, but the sudden tapping of a finger on your window as you were drifting off didn't help. Your head lazily lolled to the left as you found the culprit behind the window tapping. It was a woman with slightly wavy, auburn hair that flowed down and around her shoulders like a shower curtain. Her green eyes seemed to pierce through the window as her concerned gaze met your sleep-deprived one. She tapped on the window again as if to make sure you were actually awake. You grumbled as you sat up in your seat and stretched your back.

Before opening the door, you let out a long, exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose as you prepared to deal with the first person you were meeting in this new city. The door swings open and the mystery woman stepped out of its path before she got smacked by it. You squeeze your eyes shut and re-open them to try and wake yourself up slightly before attempting to speak to the woman in front of you.

Your head tilts up and your eyes find hers, and in a groggy voice, you ask, “Can I help you?”. It came off very short and clipped, not exactly like you could help it, but the woman in front of you simply swallowed before responding. “You just looked like you could use some help. I'm assuming you're new here, right? I'm only asking because of your Pennsylvania license plate. I haven't seen it here before. Anyways, I'm Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” She extends a hand out to you, and you take it and introduce yourself before she shakes your hand.

“I'm guessing you live in this building?” You inquire, and she simply nods energetically.

God, you think as you take in her aura, how can someone be this active at two o'clock in the damn morning? Although, then again, you're pretty out of it from driving almost a day straight, but even still. Maybe you just need a joint, that would probably help.

Before you get too lost in your thoughts, you take your keys out of the ignition and you get out of your car to lock it, grabbing your new apartment keys in the process.

“Does this mean you're my new neighbor?” She asks, and it takes you a good minute to register that she was even speaking, your lack of sleep was catching up quickly. You rub your eyebag-laced eyes before replying, “I suppose so, if you live in this building too”.

Her eyes seem to light up before she takes one of your hands in hers, excitedly, and practically drags you to the garage door that leads into the apartment building. “Come on! You've got to meet my roommate! You're going to love her, trust me. She may seem stone-cold at first, but once you get to know her, you'll love her!” She exclaims, pulling you up the stairs by your wrist to her apartment. Your feet stumble as Wanda runs up as if she were running on scalding coals.

“Wanda I don't want to intrude-” “Nonsense! Come on in, I insist!” You are dragged into her apartment and the door nearly slams behind you as she yells for her roommate, leaving you feeling awkward as you take in the living space.

“Harkness! Get in the living room, we've got a new neighbor!”

You cover your ears from the volume of Wanda's energetic voice, but you have time to take in the apartment as her roommate takes her sweet ass time getting to the living room.

It's dimly lit, only lit by candles and the light of the television in the living room that's on power saver mode. The furniture is rustic in style, like it was pulled out of the twentieth century. There is a bookshelf littered with books on witchcraft and paganism, and then tiny jars of Sage leaves and buds of Marijuana are placed on random shelves. So, they must be pot smokers too, you think. But that's not the most important thing that you find or that is even on your mind. You spot a violin case in the corner between the bookcase you were just analyzing and the wall that the TV is perched on. It was a metallic silver, and it was clearly worn from constant use and age. It was decorated with a couple of rabbit stickers and other stickers that give a witchy vibe. It's owner probably gives off the same vibe if you had to guess at all.

Before you could press further, a new female voice rings into your ears and disrupts you from your thoughts on the violin,

“Wanda, why must you be so loud when you- oh, hello there. You must be the one that Wanda is making all this noise about. I'm Agatha Harkness. Nice to meet you, dear”. She extends a hand out to you, and that's when you finally see her, and she immediately takes your breath away.

She stands a few inches taller than you, with long, messy, wavy brown hair that pools around her shoulders some, and the rest over her back. She looks at least twice your age, you assume. But, then again, you kind of have a thing for older women. Her pale blue eyes looked like they could cut right through diamond, and you for that matter with how sharp they looked. You didn't even realize you were staring at her until she said something.

“You're staring, bunny”. Your head snaps up and a wave of heat flows through your face. The intensity and heat of her gaze on you sent warmth pooling elsewhere

“My bad. I'm Y/N L/N. I'm your new neighbor” You say, taking her hand and shaking it like you had done with Wanda's earlier, only this time, Agatha was calm and gentler than her auburn roommate. Her hand lingers until Wanda breaks the intensity of your gazes.

“She was eyeing up your violin over there, Agatha. I'm guessing you play, Y/N?” Wanda jests, but is seemingly curious.

“I wish. I've always wanted to play the violin, but my parents insisted I took cello lessons instead. I've been playing since I was five, and now I'm almost twenty-four”. You pinch the bridge of your nose again as you struggle to keep yourself awake, the lack of caffeine slowing your brain down. “I actually moved here because I got accepted into the Minneapolis Symphony. It's been a long ride from Eastern Pennsylvania to here-” “Wait, that's you? You're the new cellist our conductor was telling us about!” Wanda interrupts you as she nearly yells with excitement.

You must have looked confused because Agatha cut in to explain, “Excuse her giddiness. Our conductor, Tyler Hayward, told us we were getting a brand new cellist from the East Coast in a couple of weeks, but we didn't think you'd be here this early”. A smile makes its way onto your face at the thought of my arrival having anticipation behind it. It's definitely not something you are used to.

“You both are also in the Minneapolis Symphony? What do you two play?” Your curiosity gets the better of you. “Agatha plays the violin. The one over there in the corner you were eyeing up was hers.” She sent a wink your way, and you weren't sure why, but you brushed it off.

“I play piano for the orchestra. I'm the only one, in fact, who does”, she explains

Your head lolled down and you were fighting a losing battle to keep consciousness at this point as you listened to Wanda. Agatha took notice as she put her hands on your arms and squeezed them to ground you.

“You look exhausted, poor thing. Come, let's get you someplace comfortable to sleep”, she coos, before bringing you down the hall to what is presumably her bedroom.

“Wait, here? Agatha, I couldn't. I don't want to intrude in your space” You try to reason with her, but there is no room for argument in that captivating voice of hers that has you hooked.

“Nonsense, I insist. My bed is much more comfortable than the cold floor of your bare apartment or your car seat”. Her words make your face heat up even more. Her bed…? Is she serious? As if you weren't already enamored with her right off the bat, she was inviting you to sleep in her bed? You must be knocked out on the floor dreaming, but you aren't.

She gently, but firmly pulls you by your hand into her room, her fingers interlaced with yours, and it sends waves of heat throughout your body.

As soon as you walk in, you can tell the room is hers just by the decorations and the aesthetic of it. Posters of herbs and divination litter the walls, along with a few music decorations scattered about. Her desk in the back left corner is littered with pencils and sheet music all over, covering her laptop. Her bed in the other back corner was messy and unmade, like she had just crawled out of it, which would make sense due to the crazy state of her hair. The room is dimly lit with a desk lamp that sits on the sill of her window beside her bed and desk. It was a small room, but it was well lived in, and it was unmistakably hers.

She breaks you out of your admiring state by bringing you to sit on her bed as she goes over to her closet to get pajamas for you.

“Agatha, you don't have to. I can go out to my car and get some clothes for myself. It's not that big of a deal”, you shrug off as she brings them over to you, but she puts them in your lap insistently before she chuckles and responds.

“You're right, it's not a big deal, which is why I'm giving you these to sleep in. I don't want you to collapse from exhaustion on the floor of the garage going out to your car, because trust me, that wouldn't be pleasant. So wear these tonight.” She squeezes your shoulder and her hand lingers for a moment too long to be considered normal, her gaze flicking down to your lips before it flicks back up to your eyes.

It was so quick, that even if you were mostly awake, you probably wouldn't have noticed.

“Get some sleep, bunny. Wanda and I will help you move in some of your stuff tomorrow. I’ll be sleeping on the couch if you need anything". Her hand brushes down your arm light as a feather before squeezing your hand.

Her next move is quick, but it still registers in your sleep-deprived mind.

You feel a set of soft, yet chapped lips press to your cheek quickly before she gets up and nearly speed-walks out of the room, leaving you there on her bed dumbfounded.

Did she really just do that? Yes. Yes she did. And she left you sitting on her bed blushing like a teenage girl who saw her crush in the hallway.

You don't even remember putting on her pajamas until you slide under the thick, plush blankets of her bed. As you do this, the scent of lavender and sandalwood wafts up into your nose. It's her scent, you think, and it does wonders to calm your racing mind from the kiss Agatha left on your cheek. But, it did not do wonders to help your ever inflating crush on the older woman. If anything, it made it ten times worse than it was. Agatha Harkness has you already wrapped tight around her finger, and you've only just met her.

As you turn off the bedside lamp and settle under the covers to drift off to sleep, one thought still plagues your mind: you are so fucked and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.

Taglist:

[tired-teacher-blog]

An early morning treat

Characters : Aizawa/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Oral sex (male receiving)/ One Shot

Notes : Cautiously posting what could possibly be my last work here after its first part was flagged -in addition to countless other pieces- I'm sick and tired of people reporting my shit even after adding the appropriate warnings and tags, so if this one gets reported as well, then I'm afraid I'll have to say goodbye to tumblr. Banner by : @/cafekitsune

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Part1

You lean against the doorframe of your shared room, smiling sweetly as you watch him fast asleep.

The first rays of today's light are seeping through the curtains to cascade an illuminating beauty upon his bare skin. He looks relaxed, defenseless, a rare sight that you pray to engrave in your memory for eternity.

One arm is over his torso while the other is tucked under the fluffy pillow you recommend in order for him to experience a peaceful slumber, which by the looks of it, seems to be working.

The steady rise and fall of his lean chest catches your eye, he is undeniably comfortable in his surroundings, soft snores and relaxed expression are giving you the same sense of tranquility he's emitting.

Your gaze travels to the huge clock hanging on the opposite wall, surprised to read it's past ten o'clock.

It's unusual for him to sleep in, regardless of it being a day off or otherwise, it's expected however, following your last night's wild and unholy activities that left you both drained, fuzzy and satisfied.

You bite down on your lip as the memory of him flipping your world and messing your insides -all night long- crosses your mind.

A sudden wave of heat washes over you, and a familiar carnal desire revisits your senses, it's time for him to wake up anyway, so why not make it interesting?

You slowly waltz his way, sitting on the edge of your bed and giggling to yourself while tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, "cute" is what you mutter amusingly before running your fingers along his cheeks.

He stirs and grumbles incomprehensibly, but his eyes are still shut and his body unconscious, coaxing you to leave a line of soft pecks leading to his ear where you linger, "Shouta, come on honey it's getting late."

Your whispered words tickle his skin, and his eyes finally flutter open to be welcomed with a sparkling smile, "mornin' princess," and it's deep and groggy, stirring every cell in your body.

_ "Good morning sleepy head." your lips find their way to his parted ones, kissing slowly and deeply as if to quench an insufferable thirst.

_ "What's gotten into you?" he's pleasantly bewildered, not entirely searching for an answer per se, but rather a way to slow you down until he's fully awake, nevertheless his lips are still following yours.

_ "Returning the favor." you don't offer any further explanation, making your way down his scruffy jawline and slender neck, to leave a trail of wet little kisses in your wake.

_ "Favor?.. oh!" he gets it at last, flashbacks of the night before crawl their way back to his brain as he finally regains full consciousness.

Your body shifts swiftly to straddle his hips, black t-shirt he offered you last night -following your shared shower- is hiking up your legs with every little move of yours, your lips are still attached to his warm flesh, and your kisses are getting hungrier and needier the more you travel the expanse of his scarred skin.

_ "Fuck.. so you're serious?" a chuckle is lacing his surprised words, not because he's never witnessed your assertive attitude before, but because it's just too thrilling to get used to.

He glides his thick fingers through your hair, tightening his grip slightly as a satisfied sigh escapes his throat.

The corner of your mouth turns up in utter amusement, it feels nice to see your impact on him, and it arouses your desire to continue.

His gaze is finally focused, following your eager hands as they slide down his torso and trace every flexing muscle in their path until they reach his boxer briefs.

You look up one more time to find him propped up on his elbows, a gleam in his eye and a hint of blush dusting his cheeks, a titillating view indeed that almost draws a moan out of your mouth, almost.

You pull his boxers down slowly, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation, and gasping in surprise as his length bounces back against his tummy.

A cheeky grin spreads across your face at the enticing discovery, and your lips instinctively peck his -already- oozing tip to savor the intoxicating flavor awaiting.

_ "Fuck.. I'm going mad." his voice is rough as he hisses, bucking his hips slightly to follow your retrieving mouth.

_ "Patience Shouta, I promise you'll enjoy this immensely." you coo between little giggles as you position yourself better on his tense thighs, encasing them between your own, and leaning forward to claim his throbbing cock once more.

Your hands find their way to his base, cradling him gently and pumping your fists up and down his length.

_ "Does this feel good?" you feign innocence as you voice your question, peering under your lashes to witness a pair of heavy eyes staring back at you hungrily, but his only response is a low growl that resonates across the otherwise quiet room.

Your smile widens as you give your attention back to his needy shaft, wet tongue darts out to lick the underside of his thickness before twirling around the angry tip.

_ "Don't tease me." he winces through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your hair as if to protest against your antics.

You feel empowered, relishing his shallow breathing but ultimately decide to grant his wish. You open your mouth a bit to take in the smooth head, sucking on it like a sweet lollipop and flicking your tongue against the seeping slit.

Your hands move along the rest of him, picking up the pace and humming delightfully as a raspy "good girl" flows past his lips.

You take more into your warmth, swirling your tongue along the protruding veins while bobbing your head skillfully.

The more you go down on him, the further your shirt -his shirt- slides over the arch of your spine to reveal the supple flesh and curve of your plump butt cheeks to his greedy eyes.

He's grunting and cussing frustratedly as he's unable to reach your luscious bum from his position. It's torture, cruel and delightful torture.

You hallow your cheeks and squeeze him deliciously while one of your hands move down to massage his heavy balls.

You strive to relax your throat and take as much of his beefy cock as you possibly can without chocking, your saliva mixes with his clear precum to create lascivious noises all around you.

He lets go of your hair and grips on to your jaw, tilting your head up and releasing himself from your eager maw, "ah fuck, you look so good like this." his thumb traces your swollen lips as he murmurs, watching the glossy slick trickling down your chin before sheathing himself back within your welcoming mouth.

He's close, too close in fact, that he'll barely be hanging on to his sanity for much longer, and the realization excites you immensely.

You start moving faster and faster around him, taking more of his throbbing stiffness with each dive, while your fingers keep fondling his tight balls.

_ "Babe stop, I'm about to cum! Shit.." he chokes a warning while trying to push you away but you refuse to budge, clinging to him and bracing yourself for an imminent treat that you would hate to let go to waste.

His hands shoot back to thread through your tousled hair as he thrusts up and hits the back of your abused throat, teeth sinking into his lower lip and eyes blazing with intense desire while watching himself disappear into your overstimulated mouth.

You whimper and whine as you struggle to breathe, digging your nails into his sides and bobbing your head faster to meet his thrusts.

_ "Shit! I'm cumming sweetheart! I'm cumming!" he announces only a moment before bursting at last, spilling his pearly seeds and coating the inside of your warm slippery maw.

You eagerly take it all in, sucking on the sensitive tip to lure any remaining drops before finally releasing him to sit up and swallow your delectable reward.

_ "That was.. fuck, come here." he effortlessly pulls you closer to lay on his chest, smiling widely and drowsily while caressing your cheeks and pecking your reddened lips, "are you feeling alright princess?"

You nuzzle his large hands and nod, a deep content sigh leaving your chest as your eyes lock with your lover's, you don't speak, knowing all too well that your voice is yet to be trusted, but you return the loving smile he's offering, delighted to know that he enjoyed your little surprise.

_ "Good morning indeed."

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

NICE TO OFFICIALLY MEET YOU ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!

a/n: writers block hit so hard guys its not even funny apt. anyway hope you enjoy pt 3!! im also using show! clarisse as my description

"LIA!!!!" you screech when you storm into the apartment. when she doesn't reply you get even more pissed. who the hell wakes someone up at 2 am tell them they desperately need to come over to their house now because its an emergency and then proceed to lock them out in the cold for half a goddamn hour.

"lia i swear to god im going to kick your fucking ass back to london if you don't come out here right now," you yell not even caring at this point if you wake anyone up.

"heyyy bestie," lia says coming out of the kitchen with a smile. "so glad you could make it."

from the threatening look on your face, her smile quickly fades. "ok, ok so i know its early-"

"its two-fucking-am lia, you're so very lucky that i don't kill you for this because for some reason, i've grown attached to your need self."

"i'm irreplaceable," she says. "anyway thats not why i called you here, i met some people on the subway the other day who want to meet you."

"you called me here.... to meet fans?" you say in a deathly calm tone. "lia... ITS 2:30 IN THE MORNING COULDN'T THIS WAIT UNTIL I DUNNO LIKE TEN?" you yell launching after her.

"no it couldn't wait! because this is a secret meeting, huhhh? how cool is that?" lia says running away from you into the living room. you follow after her determined to actually kill the little shit but stop short when you see three people standing and watching the ordeal.

two girls and a boy - the boy is jumping up and down with barely restrained excitement, the blonde girl is smiling, and the final girl is just watching with barely restrained boredom.

"y/n, this is grover, clarisse and annabeth." lia motions to the three of them.

you smile as politely as one can at 2:30 am and say hi back. the boy - grover - is still practically buoyant when you look at him, and its generally concerning how much energy he has.

"soo, uh what's up?" clarisse says awkwardly.

"yeah y'know nothing much, just being dragged out of bed at 2 o'clock in the morning to meet some people- by the way does he ever stop jumping?" you point to a still jumping grover. "like dude its wayy to early to be this energetic."

"no. unfortunately he's like this all the time," the brunette - clarrise - says.

"i'm sorry," grover interrupts, "im just such a huge fan of you. and i would've gotten into trouble if i had told my friend we were meeting you so thats why its at such an awful hour."

"your friend doesn't like me?"

"... he's not your biggest fan thats for sure."

☾. ⋅

yn.official

liked by underovergrover, lia.mandel, rileywest maisiehpeters, gracieabrams and 1, 268, 941 others

yn.official life recently...

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lia.mandel girls night was fun!! @/rileywest sad ur leaving again

riley.west im afraid london calls babes i'll see you girls when i get back

yn.official can't wait 🤍

user1 OMGGG SHE'S IN THE STUDIO?? AHHH

user2 what is with the studio pic?!?!?!?

user3 grover (one of percy's friends) liked the post they're totally fucking

user4 ew can you not be so gross?? just leave percy and y/n alone

user5 im dyinggg until my show!! only 3 to go ahhh

user6 THE STUDIO PIC?? AND ON TOP OF THAT THE TOUR ENDING AND PERCYY/N RUMOURS?? my heart can't take this anymore.

☾. ⋅

percyjackson

liked by underovergrover, chris.rodriguez, lukecastellan, clarisse.la.rue, the.annabethchase, lia.mandel, rileywest and 863, 459 others

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user1 NO NO PLS NOT THE MATCHING CAPTIONS ONE MINUTE WITHIN EACH OTHER ITS SO OBVIOUS

user2 he's so hot it hurts guys

user3 THE POSTS?!?!? AT THE SAME TIME!!!!

underovergrover that was an awful party man just thought i should let you know

percyjackson thanks g man i had absolutely no idea maybe next time don't text me abt how awful it is in front of the hosts

user4 THE MATCHING CAPTIONS AND THEIR FRIEND LIKING THE OTHERS POSTS. MAKE IT MORE OBVIOUS WOULD YOU??

user5 i ship them so hard fr

user6 yeah but there is literally ANOTHER girl in the post

the.annabethchase i wonder what amazing girl is in the second photo...

☾. ⋅

"fucking y/n," percy grumbles. "i cannot do a single thing without her showing up," he scoffs throwing the phone down onto the car seat beside him. he's currently sat outside a prestigious event - for what? who knows - contemplating whether he should go in because he knows for a fact the-person-who-shall-not-be-named is in there.

sighing he picks his phone up again and gets out of the car heading towards the bustling entryway to the building. men and women in fancy dresses and suits line the hallways as and elevators as he makes his way to the rooftop.

grover and luke are already here so his first goal is to find them, avoid being sucked into any weird business deals and do not under any circumstances run into y/n.

the elevator opens and he moves out onto the rooftop, the cool breeze brushing his face, the smell of alcohol and perfume fills the air. its almost peaceful as he makes his way to the edge of building leaning on the railing to take in the view.

"quiet a view isn't it?" a voice comes from beside him.

aw fuck.

he spins around and comes face to face with the one person he was determined to avoid.

"nice to officially meet you percy jackson," you say holding out your hand.

he takes it to be polite, "right back at you y/n l/n."

☾. ⋅

☾. ⋅

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you]

@lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle,

@lara20aral, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus,

@avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, @user-3113s-blog, @officiallyalbino

@gloryhaddock [if you want to be added just let me know!]

[luulapants]

What is your honest opinion about tumblr darling: Supernatural?

My take is that it's 1) poorly written 2) misogynistic.

Oh ho ho, is it take off the gloves o'clock? Is that what time it is? Hell yeah, let's do this thing.

So first off, I think it's easy to make an argument for both of your takes, but I also think those takes are reductionist to the point of being meaningless.

I think it also depends on what it is that you want Supernatural to be in the first place. If you want it to be prestige television, well, that's not what it is. If you hold it up to the tight writing standards of a 10-episode drop-and-binge streaming series, it's not that either. It's a full-length weekly network fantasy drama, and by the standards of those types of shows, it's not bad. There's a lot of shit episodes, but there's a lot of shit X-Files and Buffy and Star Trek episodes, too, because that's the nature of that type of show. It had slumps and slogs, but none so bad that the show wasn't beloved and kept on air for 15 seasons, even in an era of TV where the 15-season TV show was rapidly going extinct. It's misogynistic because TV in 2005 was almost exclusively misogynistic and their attempts to outgrow it were hit-or-miss at best. At the end of the day, it was a show about a bunch of dudes.

But I'm honestly not fussed about whether it's "good" or not. That's not a useful metric unless you define the standards. What I do think Supernatural is, definitively, is really instructional on multiple elements of American media in its age:

The intermixing of fandom and production. There's a whole generation of TV shows, Supernatural probably one of the largest of these, that saw the emergence of a direct dialogue between TV writers and producers and their audiences. This manifested in different ways with different shows, but Supernatural was emblematic of the combative relationship that would become commonplace. The meta episodes that directly targeted or depicted or spoke to the fanbase - that was crazy, shows weren't doing that before! The fact that destiel became so popular in the fanbase and the fact that production felt like they had to textually address it within the show - bonkers!

The complexity of authorial intent in TV as a medium. Because there isn't a single guiding hand dictating everything that happens in a show, which has always been true, but I struggle to think of any show where conflict between parties within a show's production were so apparent to the audience. You have a show runner with a vision for a given season - which might contradict or be a giant 'fuck you' to the vision of the previous showrunner. You have writers who have their own ideas, the producers who censor the writers, the actors who come back complaining about their lines, the directors who are giving allusions to their own agenda through visuals. Everything around the widower arc speaks to a production war over what Dean and Castiel's relationship is, from the market research, to the script, to the way Ackles performed the funeral rites, to the Romeo + Juliet nod in the neon cross when they're reunited. This is a show that proves that Doylist arguments will always be incomplete when interpreting TV media, because what are the chances you'll get an interview with the lighting crew that decided to put that halo around them in that scene? Or find out who decided on that song? Or that costume?

Post-9/11 sociopolitics. I need to give a shout-out to @1x20 for opening my eyes to this wild element of early seasons Supernatural, but once you start looking for it in TV of this era, it's everywhere. The monsters are among us, they're coming after the nuclear family. There's elements of the crime procedural here, the dissolution of the private sphere because The Hero must dedicate all of himself to his crusade. Those politics evolve over the course of the show, but they continue to speak to a very particular niche of American paranoia. It's worth noting that Supernatural was remarkably bipartisan in its viewer base, and it skated an interesting line to do that.

American masculinity. I mean, we have to acknowledge that this is a show that was created by a guy who read On the Road but didn't pick up on any of the bisexual subtext. He essentially created a parody of masculinity in Dean that has had an absurd outsized impact on fandom culture and probably on broader media culture, too.

Anyway I think that's enough ramble for now and people who are more scholarly than myself can probably restate some of this stuff in way more intelligent ways.

[ribbonsssence]

red carnations, they bloom ──── ୨୧ ────

summary﹒ You work as the head designer and general florist for your flower shop. Maria de la Rosa hires you as a short-term worker to arrange some flowers for her modelling photoshoots and for her channel after she encounters posts about the flower shop. It was an enjoyable experience after that, but for some reason, she keeps contacting you, whether it's about producing more floral arrangements or growing some flowers for her. Then it escalates from there.

a/n ﹒ angel is still the same serial killer here, but that role of her isn't known here (like at all)! i was planning to divide this into chapters but decided not too, so have this 14k words oneshot for fun !

content includes ﹒ angel x reader ; fem!reader ; flower shop au ; flower arrangements ; floriography ; color symbolisms ; falling in love ; fluff ; happy ending ; not actually unrequited love ; love confessions

You smell of flowers and dirt.

The integrated scent of the earthly roots and the sweet breeze of floral fragrance completely waft the air of the flower shop, Everblooming Fleur, wherein you work. Yet, it does not distract you from the absolute and devastating workload you have from the shop.

You would quit this job, but unfortunately it has the greatest salary you can find, and you just had to take in floristry as a hobby. What were you doing with your life? Whether you regret this decision, it doesn't matter (only money does).

You take the deepest breath you ever took and crack your knuckles before grabbing your phone to take a picture of one of the hydrangea bouquets you just made, about to create a new weekly advertisement post on Twitter (or X) for the shop. Yes, you also handle the social media accounts for the flower shop because you're most familiar with it more than anyone else who works in the shop, surprisingly.

Once the post has been sent, you get on again with your typical busy routine as the head designer, general florist, social media manager, and one of the salespersons (and that one too) of your shop.

Luckily, you're just one of the salespersons, and as a matter of fact, just an extra and replacement if one of the main salespersons is absent, which is what's happening right now. Today, the shop emptied itself throughout the day, and all customers just wanted to buy a pre-made arrangement, so you're a bit contented about that.

Sooner or later, the clock strikes twelve o'clock in the morning, the end of your shift. You just sighed in relief and prepared to get back to your comfy home.

Pattering your way to your home, to the living room, to the upstairs, and to your bed; falling face flat on the soft, inviting mattress. Your head sank into the heavy, quilted blanket spread across your bed. You toss and turn in bed; even though the sheets are warming you up in its tender hug with whispering promises of comfort and rest, you're bored.

Be damned as hell you are; you're not exactly tired enough to be shutting your eyes and truly resting, so you ended up binge-watching Maria de la Rosa's channel till you feel sleepy.

You were okay with that personally; you like her (videos) and even outside of the channel, whereas her photoshoots and interviews are publicized. Her angelic appearance could lure you into her delicate trap, but even you wouldn't mind that. You can easily tell her immaculate outlook exudes a graceful mien. All in all, you just admired her like a fan.

You click on Maria de la Rosa's latest video and let it play in the background while diving into your inbox to see if there's any new inquiries about the shop or hiring work.

You start scanning across the mix of spam and unreasonably complex questions regarding the floral arrangements or the shop in general. Until one email catches your eye by an instant—a subject line with a well-known modeling agency affiliated with the Maria de la Rosa.

"Holy shit," you utter in shock, flabbergasted. Can it be? Or can it not be? Who knows, you got to click the email and see the details immediately!

And your heart absolutely skipped a beat once your eyes scrutinized the content. It is from one of her modeling agencies, requesting a custom floral arrangement for an upcoming photoshoot for Maria de la Rosa herself. You couldn't believe it, but it was serious. The email was articulated; it outlined all the vital details, from the floral arrangement itself to the time and date when, to the place you'll be meeting her.

They want the head designer and florist to come there, under the request of Maria de la Rosa.

Your entire body buzzes with uncontainable excitement. It’s like a fireworks show going off inside you as you kick your feet wildly in the air with a grin plastered on your face. A muffled scream of glee escapes your lips while you bounce up and down, hands flailing as if trying to grab onto the sheer joy of it all. The fact she herself wants you under her angelic presence? Your emotions are all over the place.

And the pay? It’s astronomical — far beyond anything you’d expect from your usual gigs. This isn’t the standard floral arrangement for a wedding aisle or a funeral bouquet draped over a casket. This was instead the rarest opportunity that has been bestowed upon you — to bloom flowers that will share the spotlight with one of the greatest influencers.

For just a short-term job, it feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. It excites you a lot by the thought of working with someone who you've admired for a long time.

Definitely, you were accepting this offer. You have to.

You sent back a small response to the email, keeping your excitement subtle while hopping onto your cozy, delicate bed, cocooning yourself beneath the fresh linen sheets. You let yourself rest, tugging your eyelids, and anticipate a thrilling opportunity in the next couple of days.

Nonetheless, the exhilaration lingers; you swept yourself in an imagination of the dreamy hues and intricate designs of your floral pieces arranged carefully, held gracefully by the Maria de la Rosa, the center of your vision in the cascade of your blossoms; their vibrant colors and soft textures frame her like a perfect living portrait. The thought carries you on a peaceful ride to slumber amidst the dreams that shall bloom to life in the future.

In the end, you began shedding light instantly for the next few mornings earlier than usual. Passionate, stirring, exciting — you name it. Non-stop, did you practice and prepare for the upcoming photoshoots. Despite the terrestrial fragrance of the grass and dirt mixing itself with the strong honeyed aroma of the delicate trailing vines of the clematis, the petals of the asters strings fine silk threads that radiate its bright sunlit center, and the rich yellow hues of the trumpet-shaped petals of daffodils; the rest lying in sweet smells of the earthy spring as you helped them continue to blossom. You continued to prep up with all your might for this once-in-a-lifetime hiring.

It tired you a lot, more than the prolonged hours of your working shifts in the flower shop, but you knew it would be worth it. Your passion sparked like a firework; you buzzed with lively energy while tirelessly practicing the arrangement of the requested flowers and envisioning the petals catching into the light, harmonizing their blooms with the already bloomed influencer and model.

There were more tireless days to come till the day of the meeting, but that's fine. If they were to hire you because of your potential in the crafts and tapestry of floristry, then you need to show them. Display the passion that fueled your creativity, your innovative mind; show yourself as an expert in the blossoming fields of the flowers.

One flower by another, after meticulous preparation, did it finally come. It really wasn't a dream.

You began another set of preparations, physically and mentally. You double-checked the details again before stepping out of your home, smoothing off the creases in your formal clothing and ensuring that each flower is in good shape, neatly placed in their containers. The location of the building was a fair distance from your house; all you had to do was pay a taxi of an average amount.

You find yourself sitting with jittery excitement bubbling underneath. But professionalism was paramount. So you remembered to take a mental checklist of yourself: be nice, be confident, be professional, and do not let your trivial emotions get the best of you. You really thought that was a great checklist.

Passing through the cityscape, you finally found yourself at the arrival of your destination — the agency's building.

It was contemporary, as you expected, with a sleek exterior with large windows offering a view of the prominent and minimalistic lobby. You gave all the important documents to the receptionist, and thank goodness nothing went wrong during the process.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, as you were being guided by presumably Maria's agent. Your heart beats loud and fast, reminiscent of a sprinter about to reach the finish line. You feel your palms damp, shaking a bit too. You still reassured your physical state to be calm and composed. walking further into the lively hallway of chatters between agents and other agents, you prayed that this meeting would go normal yet memorable.

Just before entering the studio, you rechecked your flowers' condition sitting on a hand trolley that the man offered; luckily, it's still in perfect condition. There were no signs of Maria's presence while following the agent, so you were rest assured she's in that studio room.

The agent briefly paused to open the door; he holds the cold steel knob. With a twist, the faint sound of the latch disengaging echoed softly in the hallway; a cool breeze sweeps out after a gap of the creaking door and caresses your face.

You flicker your eyes in response to the gentle glow of the lighting in the room. You snapped your eyes back into focus and entered the studio fully. The agent assists you in closing the door, once that is out of the way, you take a quick glance at the whole studio.

To your left was an interconnected set of vanity tables, wherein an array of accessories is being arranged by stylists; they were organized and chattered with one another. You turn your head to your right and see the glimpse of garments hanging on a sleek rack; they were organized too. Each cascade of garments ranged in colors from a soft pastel to bold, vivid tones; they shone in the lights of the lighting rigs; each intricate design and texture also woven delicate patterns like nothing else.

The more you scan the room, your very own eyes finally catch a glimpse of none other than the Maria de la Rosa herself, mid-conversations with the photographer's white backdrop. Her hair was loosely drooped down to her back with no signs of her typical twin tails with buns; her outfit was sophisticated, a flowing ensemble of saturated colors—complementing every surreal detail she had. Her expression was animated and warm. With a relaxed posture, her gracefulness and elegance linger in the studio as her presence shimmers more.

Then she shifts her eyes towards the door — you.

You snap your eyes again, suddenly sensing goosebumps crawling onto your skin. She looks at you, she is looking at you. Her eyes are fixed at you with an unwavering gaze of mixed intrigue and anticipation. She smiles, at you. Smiling with such minimal effort, yet her expression was a gentle and disarming one that makes you feel a sensation of relief washing over you.

"Please, place the containers near the vanities," the agent said.

You obliged, taking your eyes away from Maria and carrying each container one by one with a tight grip to ensure it doesn't fall out of your arms. You decided to fix your focus on your beloved flowers first and finished carefully placing down the containers next to the vanity tables as instructed by the man.

As soon as you placed down the last batch, you get up, taking a glimpse of your prized possessions, ready to bloom in the spotlight. But for some reason, you can sense an unsettling weight of someone's piercing gaze behind you.

"You must be the florist I've been requesting to see?"

Although you didn't want to, you unconsciously leap out of shock and quickly twist your body in the direction Maria was going. Your gaze darted directly to her eyes, who obviously meant no il intents of scaring you from behind.

Maria places her hand above her mouth, shaping her expression to worried one. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you..." she interjects, her expression slowly forming a slightly mischievous one as she giggles. "Perhaps it got to the best of me."

You were one to quickly reply to a person, but that's always done informally. So you reassured yourself again to tone down the informalities and be as professional as you can be. "No worries, it's truly my apologies instead for overdoing my reaction," you reassured. Remember: friendliness, confidence, and professionalism.

"Awh.. You... There's no need for you to be the one apologizing," Maria replies softly, her voice laced with warmth and remorse, "but it seems like you are the one," she added.

You offered a warm smile and nodded, your gesture quietly reassuring. "Yes, I'm the head designer and general florist of Everblooming Fleur," you answered, you intertwine your hands together while having such a stuttering voice. "It's my pleasure to be working with you, Ms. de la Rosa." You introduced, moving onto your name and a bit of details about you.

Her eyes glimmer like an angel, her smile warmer than ever, she seems interested in you? You doubt that. "Great! It is also my pleasure, since I've been waiting to meet you."

Meet you? Really? Don't overthink. It's obviously because of your skills in floristry. You still kept your composure nice and cool in front one of the greatest influencer plus model. But really, she does seem interested in you, in some way...

You let out a faint 'hm?' in slight dumbstruck, "oh? What do you mean by that Ms. de la Rosa?" you curiously asked.

She giggles, a soft and cute one, "well... I have seen some of your flower shop's advertisements and the arrangements are quite unique as I say so!" she answers, "and if I'd admit it myself — I'd like to see how it is done."

You chuckle in response to her comment about your flower shop (and most of the pre-made arrangements came from your technique), knowing damn well inside that you are screaming for your life: she complimented your style of floral arrangements, "thank you! I appreciate the comment, really. And I'm more than welcome to let you observe how it's done."

"Of course! And luckily, you just got here in the perfect time! Are you able to start the custom arrangements?" Maria asks, "if you need anything, you can ask the agents, I asked permission to prepare anything related to the arrangements such as the vases, bouquet holders, and the rest. This also includes the table you'll be preparing the arrangements on."

You nod thankfully. She's doing a lot just for you as a short-term worker, but you decided to not overthink it as always. "Thank you so much again Ms. de la Rosa, and yes, I can start them right now." you chuckled, "would this mean you'll be watching me?"

"What else was the point of this meeting then?" She coos, her melodic laughter was lighthearted and gentle, yet it hits you automatically onto your stomach and makes you want to fall on your knees out of shame.

God forbid trying to be professional and all, you can sense the steaming red-faced you as your smile falters and lowering your head in shame. You nervously laugh in return, even though your physical condition isn't looking the best of a professional, "my apologies, Ms. de la Rosa." you uttered, your gaze averted to another surrounding.

"Oh please, you don't have to take it to heart," she responds, "Maybe I should be the one to apologize instead for teasing you."

You uncontrollably sigh; it's a nice reassurance coming from her, but you still feel like you're about to fumble your biggest and probably once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. "That's... I should start the arrangements, so time won't be wasted and so you can have your photoshoots."

"Thank you, I'll guide you to the table you will reside at," she tilts her head, her expression bright with amusement. Her gaze meets with yours again, playful yet sincere, with a subtle dare. "Show me how you do it. How you make them more beautiful than ever then they are."

For some reason your heart flutters, but you also feel the sensation of a heavy tension tightening up in your chest. She wants you to 'beautify the already stunning flowers,' embellish them with artistic compositions to evoke nature's perfect transient beauty while adding a touch of harmony and meaning for her photoshoots.

"I will. Miss de la Rosa."

You followed and took a seat at the table that the agents had set up. Maria was seated just across from you, she leans in close, her intentions clearly stating the obvious while you can see her eyes watches you intently. Right, just a watching, she just wants to watch you silently, no instructions told.

In order to enlighten yourself under the state of being tense, you settled in disregarding her eager soft gaze at your rough hands. But you can recall the last words she spoken, it was a challenge. A testament to the extraordinaries.

You began the arrangements with the first batch for her first photoshoot, starting with the asters. Recalling again the email, remembering all of its details, they requested for the first set of vases, pedestal vases, to have a monochromatic structure and incorporate the single use of each flower for the two — the asters and the clematises.

You place each asters with your utmost delicacy, nudging them into their place, arranging the first pedestal vase before the second. Your hands already carried a subtle, delicate fragrance, a reminiscent of the freshly dewy grass it once embraced.

You attempted to not make an unnecessary face of the sickly scent of these flowers, knowing they are popular just before the world bathes itself in the warmth and life of a bright golden glimmer and vibrant hues. The Maria de la Rosa is just right across you, following every fluid of gesture your hands does to the flowers.

"You really have your ways, huh?" Maria chimes in, her voice lacing a mix of awe and curiosity.

You blink and glance at her soft gaze briefly, a side of her right cheek was resting on her right palm, tilting her head with a thoughtful smile: watching you. The sensation of pride and humility spurs you on. "Much obliged, I appreciate it a lot Ms. de la Rosa," you replied back.

She chuckles, "the same goes to you, you don't know how watching you is lovely."

Your heart flutters again, and you can feel the sensation of a steam on your probably flushed face, was it because of her? Obviously, but why? You couldn't care, you need to focus.

After finishing the vases, it was time to do the bouquet, a combination of the asters, clematises, and finally the daffodils. You start using some of the green fillers you bought alongside the flowers and place them tenderly to frame the bouquet as you ponder about the process of wrapping it after all of the flowers, You carefully place each flower on top of the fillers while nudging some in between the fillers.

You could faintly discern the softening gaze of Maria as you carefully wrap the flowers around in the textured specialized floral wrapping paper, finishing the arrangement with a delicate embellishment: a purple and yellow ribbon. The hues echoed the effervescent contrast of the three flowers within the greenery.

"And that's all," you conclude, "it seems like... I didn't do anything wrong from the details, am I correct?"

You see the brief shine on Maria's bright blue eyes momentarily, a reflection of genuine delight, enthralled. The corner of her lips curled into a radiant smile, beaming gently like the glowing sun. "Of course! I have so much gratitude for you," she exclaimed, "you managed to convey their beauty and expression so good!"

Her genuine delight was so genuine it captivated your heart again in a mess, fluttering easily. How fragile are you? Her ushering glow of content makes you almost blind, if only you weren't facing her upfront, you'd probably collapse onto the floor by now. You couldn't imagine much of it, being heavily complimented by one of the greatest influencers and models you so admired? It's already a lot for you to take in.

Frankly, the flattery got to you a bunch, so you shyly chuckle, "thank you again, Ms. de la Rosa." That was all you could reply with as you tried to keep your tone casual yet professional. Her radiant smile persisted, as though she enjoyed your company and you arranging the flowers.

Maria began running her slender fingers on her hair, sighing with tranquility. "it's my pleasure, but really, you're quite talented, you know?" she said, voice dripping with a playful lilt, "I should go and do my photoshoots right now."

That's right, you forgot it again, the photoshoots. Your heart flutters anew, a chaotic rhythm you could barely suppress. The notion of the flowers you aid in growing them to be the best kind of their flowers, to be adorned again beneath the flourishing structure of balance, composition, and harmony by you, and to be held and surround the beauty of Maria de la Rosa as pretty and graceful she already is.

"Ah, right. You may go ahead and do your photoshoots now, I suppose I'll take my leave."

"Actually, as per my gratitude and how well you managed to make the flowers as gorgeous as they already were, I'll let you stay here and watch me take my photoshoots. I'll let the others know," Maria calmly said, a drop of reassurance to your mind.

You couldn't keep your professional facade anymore. You, in fact, made a shocked expression, yet your eyes glimmer in beam. Frankly again, you didn't expect this, to actually watch behind the scenes of the Maria de la Rosa's modeling photoshoots. Did your 'unique' methods of floral arrangement amaze her so much? To become her only audience of her photoshoots live?

Truly, you didn't even know someone like her seemingly had a fascination with flowers, as you can sense an avid sensation of keen interest in floral arrangements or flowers in general.

You were in shock, barely could let out a word out of your mouth, not even from your vocal cord. Nevertheless, you have a verbal mind of steel and managed to utter out something. "It's... I'm really indebted to you forever, Ms. de la Rosa!" You shyly exclaimed, god how embarrassing was that? but you had to be honest, right?

Maria forms a teasing and playful expression, giggling at your beaming and flushed state. "You have no need of thanking me, it's just a gift I could give you in return." Her words were coated with a lighthearted charm she always uses; as she winks, she winks at you.

It's finalized, you have a weakness in her. There's no valid answer than that regarding your current state as of now. Deeply pondering about the times of you just scrolling on your laptop, admiring her modeling photoshoots and the way she looks. Here you are, wanting to scream and giggle, kicking your feet like some kind of child again.

"Find yourself a seat near the white backdrop, do whatever you like," she adds, before turning around and walking back to her staff.

You find yourself sitting at a seat near the white backdrop, as Maria mentioned. You take a glance at the current environment, it was quite busy, even while you were arranging the flowers. Designers having a friendly talk with each other while seemingly planning out the next garment for her next photoshoot, stylists also conceptualizing different kinds of hairstyles for Maria.

You watched the photoshoots go on and on, using the arrangements you made as background and the bouquet being in the soft, tender hands of Maria. You still couldn't shake the feeling of excitement once the photoshoots were released to the public. Although you do wish for some anonymity, for the sake of yourself and the others working at the flower shop, it was still a visible feeling you've been having since the moment you saw the email.

The photographers instructed Maria to pose in various positions with the props and the flowers. You became fascinated by how it was done. Each pose meant a quick white light shine throughout the studio, she was diverse and quick with her poses and expressions. The photoshoots overall spoke a seasonal and nature theme while she was dashing and graceful, now it makes sense why they requested for the said arrangements they need.

The photoshoots went on and ended in the evening.

You eloquently bow down to show courtesy. "Thank you for letting me watch you take your photoshoots, and I'm glad to be of great help for the flowers." You gracefully smiled.

"Oh, you," Maria coos, a playful chuckle escapes from her mouth, soft and disarming. "I feel I haven't appreciate you enough, yet here you are, thanking me."

You shake your head lightly, you know deep down your appreciation for her is unwavering, you have to let her acknowledge it. "This has been the first big opportunity I was offered, so I need to give you my gratitude for that." Your smile deepened.

Maria tilts her head, crossing her arms just to rest her cheek against her palm again. She smiles fondly, her expression effortlessly radiant. "You're too sweet," she says softly, yet carrying a teasing warmth, "Anyways, before our meeting ends, I would like to ask you something."

Your curiosity piqued; you responded without hesitation, "No worries, is there anything?"

Her gaze at you is steady and kind. "I'd like to ask for your contact number," she replies smoothly, pausing for a moment, "for business matters."

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, you regain your composure after she said it was for business matters. Of course, it's for business matters; why were you thinking it like that? It's not unusual for people to ask for your contact number in the name of business anyway.

In regaining your composure, you offered her a smile. "Oh, yes, yes! You may have it; I'll write it down for you," you said, before quickly jotting down your contact number on a note, ensuring your handwriting is neat, and handing it over to her.

"Thank you for being so kind. Let's see if there's a time between you and me to collaborate again."

You wish.

Back in your welcoming home, you lie again face flat on the comfortable quilted sheets of your bed. Your heart flutters, whether you're falling in love with her or it's just admiration; god, you could never differ. Albeit, if you were to fall in love with her and just her, you'll slip it aside.

You started feeling tired ever since going back to your home, so you changed your clothing to your pajamas and cocoon yourself again beneath the blanket. The warmth enveloped you like the sunbeams passing through the clouds in the morning. You shut your eyes and pray you don't have to do as much as conceptualizing a bunch of arrangements for next season.

The first day back at work after your unforgettable encounter with Maria de la Rosa passes with a serene ease. No flurry of customs nor urgent requests of custom arrangements, and the other designers are mostly handling the work after it was your turn. You could just run in a field of grass, feeling the cold breeze brushing through your skin. This day was another time to breathe and let your mind wander.

Your shift ends again at twelve o'clock in the morning, and you find yourself awaiting some sleep for the weekends — your favorite time.

Waking up with no competence of the current time, you scroll casually through your Twitter (or X) until you see a tweet popping up on your feed: It's the same photoshoots of Maria de la Rosa you saw being taken from a couple days ago! The same poses, outfits, make-up, everything!

And to your astonishment, she posts a new video on her channel, another video about beauty. However, it just so happens, in the thumbnail, her room — the vases and bouquet you made are there, just sitting in the background.

You were in your utmost delight.

Being in your happy bubble, viewing her most recent video and admiring the same studio-shot photographs. She also mentions the flowers, how you produced them for the photoshoots, while you also watched her take them simultaneously as a token of appreciation. Your name and the flower shop wasn't mentioned, obviously for the sake of anonymity, and you were more than glad for that.

Your weekend went on as better than it already is. It was like a garden springing to life in your heart, vibrant and carefree, it lifts you higher.

The clock strikes midnight as you unwind from the day, your heart finally quieting after its relentless fluttering. You sit before your laptop, the soft glow spilling over your fingers. Writing — your secret solace. You recall those endless daydreams of penning a novel that would touch the world, a dream now nestled like an unopened book on a dusty shelf.

After the clicking echoes filled the silence of your bedroom, a river of thoughts. You stopped to take a small and fresh break, and a text notification vibrates your phone. The first thing you see on the notification was their name, Maria de la Rosa.

Hello! I know it hasn't been 3 days since the photoshoots and video have been released... But, I'd like to request another set of custom floral arrangements, any kind and amount! Except, you have all the creative freedom in your hands. Just bring what you need. The address is the same, be there before 7 am preferably. Thank you! <3 Oh, and there's money as a reward, hehe

No way.

It's happening again, you're working with her again.

You stretched your arms to the heavens above and exhaled deeply, just to laugh in a sudden explosion of joy, a grin spreading across your face. High spirits became higher than before, it's like you've been blessed by the gods. Nobody, not even a modeling agency, but none other than Maria de la Rosa reached out to you. It's just like a surreal dream of yours, but it's reality.

You jumped out of your chair and collapsed back onto your bed, the mattress sighing beneath your weight. Sleep was tugging at your eyelids, but excitement still coursed through your veins, making you grin against the pillow. Another day was on the horizon, another chance to work with Maria de la Rosa. The thought alone was enough to make your heart race.

Waking up with a vivid memory of yesterday, you take your quick daily routine and back to prepping.

You drank your casual coffee, savoring the comforting bitterness that jolted your senses awake. The steam curled upward, brushing against your face like a warm morning embrace. Its lingering scent grasped the creative freedom you were given. You devised a plan with more flowers than last time, you ensured to choose the most beautiful flowers, ones that embodies vibrancy and elegance; with petals so lush they tell a story, an expression.

Dahlia, peonies, larkspur, flowers that bloom in this late Spring was suffice, you called it.

Sketching out concepts for the arrangements, you wondered what kind of photoshoots they're going for next, it might become the same theme but you shook the idea out of your head and went back to preparation. With each passing second, more concepts rushed through your mind like a tidal wave, exhibiting ribbons, complementing greenery, and bursts of color palettes.

And your back again at the same contemporary building, same studio, and same table.

By the time you sat back again in the same chair too, she was already there to greet you. The same nervous excitement wells up in you as you meticulously piece together the flowers she requested—each delicate petal flowing with allure.

"Hi there," Maria greeted, her voice drips a casual warmth that immediately put you at ease. Her outfit was effortlessly stunning, more different from the outfit she wore previously; wearing a pastel pink sundress with floral print. Tailored with short puffed sleeves, a fitted bodice with pearl buttons adorned around ribbons in the side and a subtle A-shaped layered skirt.

"I— Hello, Ms. de la Rosa," you stammered out, you couldn't believe it was such a problem for you when her beauty enamors extremely. Your handwork completely slows down in bringing out the flowers and bases.

"Oh?" Maria interjects with subtle playfulness, a giggle escapes from her mouth, "seems like you're admiring me?"

Shit, she knows. Your heart skipped a beat, panic flashing through your mind. Yet, you decided to lean into the playful banter, just like her. "Uhm, maybe," you replied, keeping your tone casual yet playful, meeting her gaze with a slight smirk. "I'm sure it isn’t a surprise for someone like you."

Her laughter filled the room, melodious and genuine. "Well, I can't say I'm not flattered," she quipped, her expression softening. "But if you're going to admire me, make sure to keep your work just as flawless. Not that I don't have my trust on you. Deal?"

You nodded, though a hint of warmth lingered between you. "Deal," you said with a chuckle, already eager for the rest of the day working by her side.

"Great, just while I do my work."

The faint sound of her heels clicking as she goes to the area of the stylists, going to have her hair styled you assume, you ponder more. Pondering regarding your relationship with her, she's been incredibly nice with you, friendly, so casual — like friends.

"I'm overthinking it."

You thought. You sighed, trying to push aside the self-doubt. It was true that Maria had been incredibly nice, always friendly, and effortlessly casual with you. The way she spoke to you felt natural, and that ease made you wonder if there was something more beneath her smiles. Nonetheless, there was no reason to complicate things.

As you focused on the work ahead, you resolved to stick with the present, keeping things professional and organized.

As you picked up each delicate bloom, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of uncertainty, until you realized: she never told you a certain theme, nothing, just only she quotes, "creative freedom". Perhaps, this may be a bit difficult as you thought.

You paused. Creative freedom. On one hand, it was liberating. But on the other, it left too many directions to go in. Flowers could symbolize so many things, evoke a range of emotions. They could be arranged in endless ways, from bold, colorful displays to subtle, elegant compositions. The choices were overwhelming. You practiced without analyzing her message, you feel somewhat regret and disappointment in yourself.

But then again, you shouldn't worry about that, you got a small glimpse of Maria's clothing for the photoshoot, you'll just have to base it on that, generalize it, broaden it.

Without the weight of Maria’s gaze on you, your movements became more fluid, more confident. You worked quickly, flowing through the arrangement with a quiet rhythm. Drawing inspiration from the casual yet bold outfit Maria had chosen for the day, you decided to go for an arrangement that echoed her energy: loose, free-spirited, but still filled with elegance.

The slack movement of the green fillers intertwined with the soft, structured beauty of pink foxgloves and peonies. The flowers cascaded around the vase, almost as if they were spilling over, the greenery framing the blossoms in a carefree yet deliberate manner.

Once you finished the vase, you rubbed your hands already soaked in the sickly aroma of the fragrant flowers, ready to move onto the next arrangement.

You decide to create a nosegay next, where the dahlia becomes the focal point, its vibrant petals commanding attention. You carefully choose complementary flowers to be arranged tightly around the dahlia. Finishing it off with a layer of the usual green fillers you use, securing all of it with a ribbon and cut off the excess stem.

Fixing your focus on the next arrangements after another, the soft click of heels against the floor announced Maria's return. You barely had time to glance up before her voice carried across the room.

"Oh my!" Maria exclaims, her voice tinged with admiration. "You’ve already done so much, and they’re absolutely stunning. Looks like you knew how to pull off the theme as well." She tilted her head, her blue eyes shining with intrigue. She was lilting with approval and fascination.

Her compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was blink. Then, snapping yourself out of your daze, you managed to stammer, "Ah, thank you! I—I'm glad you think so."

Maria chuckled softly at your response, her lips curving into a playful smirk. "It's not just thinking so, darling. It’s knowing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say these flowers are trying to upstage me." She chuckles repeatedly, so tender and lighthearted.

She calls you darling. She called you darling.

The word echoed in your mind, like a bell tolling, leaving you slightly stunned yet undeniably charmed. Her words hung in the air, warm and honeyed, as if they were designed to melt your resolve. You swallowed hard, heat rushing to your cheeks. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, tangled in the weight of her gaze and the softness of her smile.

Maria tilted her head slightly, a gentle wave of her styled hair catching the light. "Hm? Did I catch you off guard?" she asked, her tone laced with amusement. Her laughter, soft and melodic, filled the air, adding another layer to the haze enveloping you.

You smiled awkwardly, feeling as though the room had become warmer, the floral scents around you amplifying the surreal atmosphere. "Maybe, just a little," you admitted with a sheepish chuckle, attempting to shake off the overwhelming fluster.

Maria’s laughter sparkled like a light breeze rustling through petals. "Only a little?" she teased, her voice lilting with mischief. She leaned ever so slightly toward you, the gesture subtle but enough to make your heart skip. "But, you've done a lot. So, I'll take these arrangements and start my photoshoots. You may stay here again and watch, if you would like to."

Her initial playful edge in her tone sent your thoughts scattering. You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus. "Thank you, Ms. de la Rosa," you muttered, half to yourself but loud enough for her to hear.

You watched Maria take her photoshoots again, her every pose a masterclass in elegance and poise. Each movement felt deliberate yet effortless, as though she were in complete harmony with the world around her. The way she tilted her chin, the graceful arc of her arms, and the fluidity of her posture captivated everyone in the room.

And if you were being outward honest? Maybe, and just maybe — you like her.

The camera flashes illuminated her figure, creating a glow that almost seemed unreal. Her hair cascaded like silk with every turn of her head, catching the light and shimmering with life. The fabric of her outfit flowed with her movements, accentuating each pose as if it had been made solely to complement her grace.

Romantically or platonically? You weren't so sure.

From time to time, she glanced in your direction, her expression softening for the briefest of moments, as if silently sharing a private acknowledgment amidst the buzz of the shoot. It sent your heart racing every single time, a quiet flutter of emotions that you couldn’t quite suppress.

Something rings in your brain about her, and the subtle way her demeanor seems to shift when she’s around you. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but there’s an undeniable pull, an inexplicable connection that feels far from ordinary.

Her attitude towards you has grown warmer, more familiar, almost as if she’s seeking out moments to interact with you. It’s in the way her eyes linger a fraction longer than necessary, the way her smile seems softer and more genuine when it’s directed at you. Even during the busy chaos of her shoots, she finds small, almost imperceptible ways to include you, a glance here, a comment there.

It feels... strange. Not unwelcome, but disorienting. Why does it seem like she wants to see you more and more, even when she could be surrounded by countless others vying for her attention? You try to brush it off, but the thought nags at the edges of your mind. Could it be simple friendliness? Or is it something deeper, something unspoken?

You shake your head, feeling the weight of your overthinking settling in again. Maybe you’re just reading too much into things. But then again, the warmth in her eyes, the effortless charm in her words those don’t feel like coincidences. They feel deliberate.

But then again and again — she's way too out of your league. You're just some woman who works for rest of the day at some flower shop, and she's one of the most prominent models and influencers with dripping elegance and gracefulness everywhere she goes, a perfect being.

You shake your head repeatedly while you wait for the photoshoots to be completed before heading home.

Heading home in a taxi, the hum of the engine and the faint city lights create a soothing rhythm that matches the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your head.

"Maybe, we're like friends by now."

You wonder, your fingers idly tracing the fabric of your seat. Possibly it's just a friendly professional connection, nothing more. You've encountered instances like these with other people who hired you. But somehow, the more you think about it, the less certain you feel.

Your whole week has been silent. Aside from the recently published pictures and a few videos, giving you anonymous credit.

You returned to work with a sense of calm, though a flicker of uncertainty still lingered beneath your composed demeanor. The days dragged by on your feet, dealing with the same usual arrangements, occasional requests, and quiet, almost meditative work. Considerably, one of the salespersons came back to work again, so you're back in behind the scenes of the flowers and arrangements.

Until, one particular shift started unlike any other.

Out of nowhere, as you were tending to your usual tasks, a figure entered the shop, her presence commanding attention. But you wouldn't know that, yet.

"Hey!" A demanding voice yelled out, they turned toward you, eyes wide, and you could see the faint tremor of disbelief in their gaze. It was almost as though they were seeing something surreal unfold right before their eyes.

"Did something happened?" you curiously asked. It's probably another complaining customer, at least that's what you would've predicted.

"Yeah, kinda, whatever. This is new," they whispered under their breath, shaking their head. "Maria de la Rosa, like the actual one, came here and told me she wants to see you?"

"Oh. Oh? What the fuck?"

You blinked in shock and disbelief just like them, did she actually came here just to see you? You choose to not waste any time. "Ah, okay. I'll see her."

With a swift motion, they hurried over back to the front of the shop. “She’s right here, miss,” they managed, leading you to the counter. They left and went inside the shop to probably leave you two a time to talk and it felt like the whole shop was silently holding its breath, waiting for what would happen next.

"Hi," Maria greeted, her voice smooth with a playful undertone, the kind that made your heart skip. The glint in her eyes was familiar, mischievous, and as she flashed you a smile, it was effortlessly charming. You could feel your face warm, your usual composure slipping away. "Sorry if my appearance was too sudden, especially when I asked to see you."

You stumbled over your words, your thoughts crashing together like a thousand half-formed sentences. It felt like your words were trapped in the air, swirling just out of reach. You shifted your feet, an unconscious attempt to ground yourself, to steady the storm inside your chest. "I—I didn't expect to see you stop by, here," you mumbled, your voice small, swallowed by the space between you. "What do you need, Ms. de la Rosa?" You managed to ask, but it sounded more like a question for yourself, a search for the ground beneath you. 

Her presence was a warmth that wrapped around you like a silk ribbon, effortlessly pulling you into her orbit. It made your heart race—more than it should have.

Maria leaned over the counter slightly, her expression more thoughtful now. "You know, I wanted to have a longer chat this time, if you don’t mind. I’m not really here for an order..." Her voice drifted, and you watched as she looked around, clearly comfortable in the environment. "And, drop the titles. I frankly like to be called by my name."

You nodded, still unsure how to handle the situation.

The conversation flowed between you and Maria, smooth like the ripples on a calm lake, but with the depth of an ocean hidden beneath the surface. Her words, light as a gentle breeze, carried a weight that seemed to pull you in deeper, unearthing thoughts and feelings you hadn’t even realized were there.

You were unprepared for how natural it felt to talk to her, how her presence in the space seemed to make time stretch, like the hands of a clock forgotten in the corners of the room. Each laugh, each glance she offered felt like a quiet invitation to stay a little longer, to breathe in the air that seemed to hum with possibility.

"I'm still really sorry if I came here so sudden," Maria expressed, leaning against the counter, her expression no longer playful but drawn with the weight of unspoken thoughts. "You know how busy I am, do you?"

Keeping your silence, you offered her a swift nod, willing to listen as the air between you and Maria shifted, the space once filled with casual banter now heavy with something deeper, more fragile. The brightness that often surrounded her presence dimmed, leaving her raw and exposed, a person and not just an image.

"I just..." she trailed off, biting her lip as if trying to suppress the emotion bubbling just beneath the surface. "Feel a bit exhausted lately. It's not like it has been the first time. But I honestly shouldn't be busy for the past few weeks but I am."

The vulnerability in her voice stung more than you'd expected. Maria, always in control, always the image of poise and perfection, now seemed like a person. Just a person, weighed down by her own life, caught in the whirlpool of expectations. You noticed the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes avoided yours, not in embarrassment, but in a kind of reluctant surrender. It was as if she had tried to hold everything together for so long, and now, in front of you, the seams were beginning to crack.

Thinking about what she said more, made you completely forgot, Summer is coming, a time when most people think of breaks and vacations, had no such promise for her.

Her laugh was hollow, a sound that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sure, Summer is coming, but for me, it'll be just another busy season," she said, almost bitterly, though the tone quickly softened again. She shrugged, that same elegant shrug that seemed to let her hide the storm inside her, but you knew better now. You could see through the polished surface. "It should be slow... but the work never stops."

"Don't you have agents or people who work beside you? Or... Are they the reason?" you asked, your voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Maria hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering toward the window as if the world outside held the answers she couldn’t quite find. She let out a soft sigh, her eyes drifting to the side as if looking for something that could offer her solace. "Yes, mainly my manager, Finian. He's been demanding lately, over my modeling status and channel as well. But, I don't necessarily blame him for anything."

You blinked in confusion, unable to fully grasp the weight of her words. "A-huh, how?" you asked, your voice laced with uncertainty, unsure of how to continue the conversation or if you were even equipped to understand what she was really going through. "In what way you don't, necessarily, blame him? You don't think he's nagging you?"

"What?— No, no... I'm sure he isn't, he just wants the best for me but... sometimes I feel cut out from my busyness."

The weight of her words lingered in the space between you both. For a brief moment, it felt like you could understand her, if only a little. You wanted to say something reassuring, but what could you say? Words seemed too small, too insignificant for what she was feeling.

Instead, you simply nodded. "Y'know," you murmured, your voice a little more steady than you felt. "You don’t have to carry all of it by yourself, you know?"

Maria blinked, her lips parting slightly as though she wanted to argue, but no words came. She glanced toward the floor, her fingers absentmindedly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I mean it," you continued, your tone soft but firm. "I know it probably feels like everyone expects you to be perfect all the time, but... You're allowed to take a step back. You’re allowed to need someone, something, or just a break once in a time."

For a moment, the room felt still, the weight of the conversation settling into a comfortable silence. Maria’s expression softened, her walls momentarily lowered. "You’re too kind," she said quietly, her lips curving into a faint, genuine smile. "Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me," you replied simply, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "Everyone deserves a break, and someone to lean on. You."

Maria gave a faint, almost wistful smile, her shoulders sagging slightly as if releasing some of the burden she’d been carrying. "Maybe you're right," she said, her tone almost playful, though it was clear she was still wrestling with her thoughts. "Thank you for your words. I'm quite glad I came here. It... Did a lot."

You watched her, feeling the weight of the moment, knowing that she wasn't just seeking answers, but someone to hear her, to understand the chaos of her life. You stood there with a smile, with her in the quiet, letting her thoughts spill out, offering nothing more than your presence in the midst of her storm.

"Either way, something about you, your presence, makes me feel safer than ever."

The words hit like a wave, gentle yet powerful, stirring a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just what she said, but the way she said it — her voice dipping into an honesty that felt rare and precious. It was as if she’d peeled back a layer of herself she didn’t show to just anyone.

You found yourself searching for a response, anything to match the gravity of her confession, but your mind was a flurry of thoughts. What could you say to something like that? The quiet between you stretched, filled only by the faint hum of the shop and the delicate fragrance of flowers around you.

Your heart swelled with a strange, unfamiliar warmth, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this fragile, unspoken connection.

As the conversation came to a lull, Maria’s gaze fell on a display of fresh flowers near the front.

"I’ll take just one, the red flower there," she said, as if it was the most normal request in the world. She points her index finger to the flowers of carnations.

"Oh, the red carnation? I suppose so..." You replied, your voice hesitant, your thoughts trailing as you picked up the delicate bloom. Something about the entire exchange felt a bit surreal, like the weight of her presence and her sudden generosity was pressing down on you all at once. You wrapped the flower quickly, fingers brushing the soft paper, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Once the flower was neatly placed on the counter, you handed it over to her, expecting the usual polite exchange. But then, you were hit by the unexpected: she placed an absurdly large tip on the counter, the bills nearly spilling over the edge.

You stood there, dumbfounded, your mind racing to come up with a response. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you were frozen, unable to find your voice. The tip was too much, too generous, and you weren't sure if it was the heat of her smile, the unexpectedness of it all, or just the sheer magnitude of her gesture that left you at a loss for words.

"No need to argue, just take it," Maria insisted, a smile still on her face. "I know you deserve it for all the hard work, and for being a great friend to me."

You tried to protest, but she waved it off, her hand brushing against your arm lightly as she turned to leave. The door swung shut behind her, and the shop was quiet again, but this time, it was filled with a sense of confusion and a bit of wonder. The scent of fresh flowers and the quiet hum of the lights seemed to weigh heavier in the air, as if the walls themselves were holding onto the tension left in her absence.

You're left in absolute perplexity. Maria's emotional walls had crumbled for just a moment, giving you a glimpse into the weight she carried. And then, without much transition, she shifted back to her usual confident self, ordering a single red carnation. No elaborate bouquet, no symbolic arrangement — just one simple flower.

The whole interaction felt surreal, as if you were caught in the middle of a dream that didn’t quite make sense, there were so many things about this woman being so surreal. Before you could even ask why or if she was okay, Maria pulled out her wallet and slid an absurdly large tip across the counter, and called you a great friend.

"Friend?"

The word rang in your head like a struck bell, leaving you frozen in place as she turned and headed for the door.

"I'm her friend?!" you muttered to yourself in disbelief, staring at the carnation in your hand and the stack of bills on the counter. It wasn’t just the tip that shocked you—it was the fact that, somewhere along the way, you’d apparently become someone important to her.

As the door closed behind her, the shop returned to its usual quiet, but the space she left behind felt anything but ordinary. You stood there for a long moment, trying to piece together what had just happened, the warmth of her words lingering like sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky.

Nonetheless, you retreated back behind the doors of the flower shop, the rhythmic motions of arranging blooms grounding you once more. It was almost as if the candid, deeply personal conversation with Maria de la Rosa — the same model who graced magazine covers with an effortless elegance and the same influencer whose beauty and lifestyle posts amassed millions of fans on her renowned channel — had been a figment of your imagination. The fragrance of roses and carnations surrounded you, soothing and familiar, contrasting sharply with the lingering whirlwind of emotions.

Each flower you handled felt like a quiet distraction, their delicate petals whispering reassurances as you immersed yourself in your work. Yet, no matter how diligently you focused on arranging vibrant bouquets, her words, her presence, and the undeniable significance of your encounter stayed with you, like an indelible mark etched onto your day.

Throughout the weeks, Maria's visits became a rhythm in your life, a quiet melody that played between the hustle of your work. Whether the conversation was light and professional or drifted into something more personal, there was one constant thread: each time, without fail, she left with a single red carnation flower.

"Another carnation today?" you asked during one afternoon, trying to sound casual as you wrapped the delicate bloom in tissue paper. Your hands worked deftly, but your heart drummed unevenly in your chest.

Maria smiled, the kind of smile that lingered in the air like a secret. "Of course. It’s tradition now, isn’t it?" she teased, her tone light yet somehow loaded, as if there were an unspoken meaning behind her words.

"Tradition?" You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up. "Do you give these to someone special?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, your voice betraying the hesitance you felt.

Maria tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking with yours, piercing and playful. "Maybe, maybe not," she replied with a coy shrug.

Her words left you flustered, the subtle compliment blooming in your chest like the very flowers you handled daily. Her ambiguous answers always seemed to carry the weight of something unsaid, a secret tucked just out of reach. As she handed you the money, always more than necessary, you found yourself caught in the haze of possibilities.

Before she took another step away from the counter, you found yourself blurting out, "You really have a fascination with flowers, don't you?" The question slipped out before you could think twice about it, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t help it. After all, the flowers she had bought, the care she had to place them in her bedroom, and the way she seemed to light up every time she spoke about them, it felt like a fitting observation.

Maria paused mid-step, her fingers brushing lightly against the counter as she turned back toward you, her gaze softening. "I guess you could say that," she said with a thoughtful smile. "Flowers, always felt like a way to express things words can't. Which I can't, sometimes."

You watched her carefully as she spoke, noticing how the slightest smile touched her lips when she mentioned them. Flowers had become more than just a hobby for Maria; they were a window into her heart.

Each visit lingered in your mind like the faint, sweet fragrance of carnations, the pattern of her requests carving itself into your thoughts. Did it mean anything? Was she just kind, or was there something deliberate in the way her gaze softened when she spoke to you, in the way her hand brushed yours as you exchanged the flower?

The questions swirled around you, tugging at your focus like a persistent breeze, scattering your composure. Every interaction left you grasping for clarity, only to find yourself sinking deeper into the unknown. By the time she left, her scent still faintly in the air, you were left staring at the counter, your thoughts as tangled as the stems in your hands.

Later that evening, as you rearranged a shelf of flowers, your thoughts swirled like petals caught in a gust of wind. Red carnations symbolize romantic love. Romantic. Love. The word thudded in your mind, insistent and impossible to ignore.

Does that mean she likes someone? You frowned, the idea both logical and confusing. It made sense; someone as amazing as Maria would have someone special. But why does she keep coming here for a single carnation? The thought twisted in your chest, a strange mix of hope and doubt.

But then there was you. A stubborn part of you clung to the possibility, replaying her casual flirtations; the way her smiles lingered just a second too long, and her compliments that always felt more personal than professional. Could it be you?

"No way," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. "Get a grip." Yet the thought refused to settle, flaring up every time her image crossed your mind. You couldn't deny that you liked her—how could you not? Her presence was magnetic, her kindness genuine. And you’d been a fan of her long before she started walking through the shop door or the email that changed you as a whole.

The internal debate consumed you for days, leaving you distracted and restless. Each time the bell over the door chimed, you half-expected to see her walk in, and your heart would leap in anticipation. It wasn’t until you threw yourself back into your routine: rearranging flowers, chatting with customers, that you managed to clear your mind.

For now, you decided, you’d leave the questions unanswered. But as you wrapped yet another red carnation for Maria during her next visit, a quiet, persistent hope bloomed in the corner of your heart.

Days pass by normally than as it should, although too normal for your likings.

You sat in the peaceful table, hands still trembling slightly as you arranged another bouquet. The light from the window streamed through the glass, casting a warm, golden hue over the flowers, but it felt like the glow had settled into you. An energy that lingered, filled with confusion and unspoken words. Then, your phone buzzed.

It was a text from her, Maria. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as you read the message.

Hiii! Can you come to my house right now? Before I get kinda busy again.. I want you to teach me about arranging a bouquet.

The message was as simple as it was direct, and your mind whirled. Her house? Before you could even process, the next message came through, and with it, her address.

The world seemed to tilt as your breath caught. What? Was she being serious? You had barely processed the warmth of her words, and now, out of nowhere, you were about to step foot into her world. Into Maria de la Rosa’s real life. Your heart hammered as your fingers hovered over the phone screen, mind racing. What was going on?

All you could was reply a yes, on the way. Your manager wouldn't mind if you take a leave for today, they'll always know you do a lot on each shift you take.

Flustered and overwhelmed, you scrambled to get ready the flowers, things for the bouquet, and yourself. Your thoughts tumbling over each other like the petals in a breeze. It felt like you were about to do something completely out of your depth, but at the same time, the anticipation buzzed through you — an electric current running under your skin. A delicate invitation into a space where boundaries blurred, where your feelings and her casual, yet intimate, gestures seemed to entangle in the quiet moments you shared.

You weren’t just preparing to teach her about flowers. No, something more was brewing, though you couldn't quite place it.

When you arrived at her house, the world seemed to fall into a softer rhythm, the usual hum of city life dimming as you stood on her doorstep. The air around you felt still, as if everything was holding its breath, waiting for what was about to unfold.

Maria’s smile greeted you like sunlight through a window, warm yet playful, effortlessly making you feel at ease, as if this was just another one of those casual encounters. Still, there was something in the way she looked at you, a glint in her eyes that made the moment feel different. "Hi! I've been waiting to see you. You sure did come here quicker than I expected."

You let out a playful chuckle, your nerves settling a little, but you could feel that subtle undercurrent of anticipation. "I couldn’t leave you waiting too long, could I?" you responded, smiling in return, though your words felt more like a way to hide the rush of emotions swirling in your chest.

"You flatter me too much. Let's go to my bedroom."

She led you inside, her movements fluid and inviting, as if she had rehearsed this moment a thousand times, yet somehow, it felt new. Her home had an elegance to it, the kind that seemed effortless and yet thoughtfully curated.

As you made your way to her living room and to her own bedroom, you noticed the small touches, the delicate curtains; the soft lighting, and the subtle arrangement of her furniture, all somehow embodying the same grace that Maria herself radiated.

"So, shall we start?" you asked, your voice a little less steady than you intended, the tension in the room thick with an unspoken curiosity.

You moved closer to the table, the smell of fresh flowers swirling in the air like a gentle summer breeze. You picked up the first flower, its petals soft like the first touch of sunlight in the morning, and began to arrange it. Your hands, though skilled, were still shaking slightly as they moved with practiced precision, the familiar rhythm of arranging grounding you in the moment.

"Okay, see how the stems need to be cut at an angle first?" You explained, your fingers brushing lightly against the stems as you guided her. "It helps the flowers drink water more efficiently."

Maria followed your instructions, her fingers a bit hesitant at first, but she seemed to catch on quickly, her hands moving with a growing confidence. As she placed the flowers next to each other, adding the green fillers, there was a subtle energy in the air, like something was blooming between the two of you — not just the flowers on the table, but something you couldn’t quite place.

Eyeing her hesitant hands, you felt a quiet pull in your chest. You couldn’t help but reach out, walking behind her and placing your head on one of her shoulders to take a peek of her creation. Your fingers brushing against her hand, a moment of hesitation before you gently took her hands into yours. The warmth of her skin sent a jolt through you, a pulse that ran through your fingertips, spreading through your chest like the quiet thrum of a heartbeat.

You guided her fingers with slow, deliberate movements, your own touch gentle but firm, as if your hands were creating the space for something more than just a bouquet. You weren't sure how long you stood there, both of you just standing in the middle of this quiet moment, but every second felt drawn out like a note held too long.

The touch lingered longer than necessary. "Here, let me help you with the spacing. You want to create balance, make sure the flowers complement each other."

Her eyes flicked to yours, searching, but there was something guarded there, as if she were unsure whether she should pull away or stay. Her breath hitched for a split second, and you nearly pulled your hands back in response, but something stopped you: a pull, like gravity, holding you both in place.

Her hand felt warm against yours, like the heat of a flame just starting to catch. You could feel the pulse in your fingertips, the quiet intensity of the moment settling over you. You couldn’t look at her, not now, not with your heart threatening to break free from your chest.

"Like this?" she asked, her voice a soft murmur, breaking through your spiraling thoughts. You nodded, the words caught in your throat.

"Yeah," you said, your voice sounding distant to your own ears. "Perfect. Just like that."

Maria didn’t move her hand away immediately, and you felt it, the heat of her touch lingering between you like a secret you weren’t ready to face. You could sense the shift in the air, like the quiet before a storm, but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge it. Instead, you focused on the flowers, hoping to push aside the rush of feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.

Finally, you let go, your hands lingering for just a second too long, as if the air itself was holding onto that connection. You took a step back, your pulse still racing in your chest, unsure of what had just happened. Maria, too, pulled her hands back slowly, the moment slipping through your fingers like sand.

She smiled at her creation, a soft, knowing smile that seemed to pull at something deep inside of you. But just as quickly as the moment had bloomed, it was gone. You stepped back, still holding onto the flicker of warmth in your palm, but you didn’t dare look up to see if she felt it too.

Maria's eyes met yours, but you quickly glanced away, the weight of the moment too heavy to hold. "I think you’ve got the hang of it," you said, your words forced, like you were trying to fill the silence with something, anything, to mask the way your heart pounded in your chest.

She smiled up at you, her expression unreadable, but there was a softness in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. "Thanks," she said quietly, her voice a little more subdued, like the weight of the moment had settled over her too, "can you teach me more and some tips too?"

"Ah, yeah, can do."

While teaching her more about the basics; tips and tricks of arranging a bouquet, you found yourself stealing glances at the red carnations she'd bought from the shop. They were conspicuously absent from the room, and curiosity gnawed at you.

Finally, unable to hold it in, you asked, "hey, about the red carnations you always buy as some kind of 'tradition' you quote, where are they? I haven’t seen them around here."

Maria paused, her fingers stilling as she looked at you with a small, almost secretive smile. "Oh, about that..." she said casually, as though the answer was nothing at all. "I'm... hiding them, of course."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What, is this also a part of the tradition too? Ms. de la Rosa" you teased, trying to keep the mood light, though your heart was racing slightly in your chest.

She seemed to consider this for a moment, her gaze flicking toward the window before returning to you, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Oh, you... But maybe," she said softly, her voice almost laced with something unspoken. "It's just for someone I may consider, I love."

"You... Love? You like someone?"

Her eyes sparkled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. She continued, her voice soft, almost affectionate. "I'll be honest, I guess so. They have this wonderful appearance, this cute demeanor, and this soft voice that’s... Well, it’s lovely. All of it is so charming." The way she spoke seemed so tender, so deliberate, and yet your brain still couldn’t quite connect the dots.

You nodded, keeping your response calm and friendly. "Sounds nice," you said, trying to mask the confusion (and somewhat jealousy that you don't know) swirling inside. You kept your tone light, not thinking much of it, but in the back of your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had missed something.

Maria’s smile seemed to falter ever so slightly, just enough for you to notice if you were paying attention. But, not being particularly sharp in matters of the heart, you brushed it off, convincing yourself it was just a fleeting thought.

The visit was short, much shorter than you had thought. Maria’s work life was demanding, and she had to get back to it. After a few more minutes of flower arranging instruction, you left her home, your thoughts tangled in the quiet of the journey back. The red carnations still lingered in your mind, but more than that, it was her words that echoed, leaving you with more questions than answers.

What was going on with you, and about her? You couldn’t quite decipher it, but somehow, as you walked back to your home, the feeling that there was something more lingering between you both began to settle deep in your chest.

It was one of those quiet weekends where time seemed to slow down, the kind where the world outside felt distant and you could just relax into the comfort of your space. The only sound was the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the soft rustling of your blanket. You were sprawled on the bed, scrolling aimlessly, when your phone buzzed, slicing through the calm like a sudden gust of wind.

Hi againn, I just wanna ask something I would like to send my apologies which is right now before I send what I want to ask cause this might be a bit too sudden or unexpected hahaha.. can you send me your address? it's a bit important right now

You paused for a second, wondering what she could possibly need your address for. But without giving it too much thought, you typed it out, fingers moving quickly over the keys. You know her address and she should probably know yours too by now, right?

Another message followed shortly after you sent a reply including your full address.

Thank you <33 I'll be there in an hour or two

That’s when your pulse quickened.

"An hour or two?! She wasn't actually kidding—"

What was she planning to do? You glanced around your room in a mild panic, rushing to change into something a bit more presentable, since you looked like a mess right now. You opted for something that still felt casual enough for a lazy evening but formal enough to feel like you were making an effort.

You had been waiting for what felt like an eternity, each passing minute stretching longer than the last. Your nerves humming with anticipation. Just as you were about to settle your mind, a knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat, adrenaline surging through you. You scrambled to answer, almost tripping over your own feet in your hurry.

And there she was.

Maria de la Rosa, standing at your doorstep with a radiant smile that could have brightened the entire block. Her presence seemed to fill the space, making everything feel lighter. But it wasn’t just her smile that caught your attention: it was the mysterious object hidden behind her back. You raised an eyebrow, curiosity bubbling up inside you, wondering what she was hiding.

"Hi," Maria said, her voice light but with an unspoken depth beneath it. It made your heart do a little flip, the soft tone of her words wrapping around you like a warm, comforting blanket.

"Hey," you managed to stammer, still a bit taken aback. "Thinking about it, you never told me why you're here."

Maria's smile deepened as she took a step closer, her eyes glinting with something you couldn't quite place. "I'll tell you," she said, her voice almost teasing. "Just once I'm inside and the door is shut, okay?"

The mystery hung in the air like a delicate thread, pulling you in, making your curiosity itch. You opened the door wider, stepping aside to let her in, your mind racing with questions. What was it she had to tell you that felt so important, so private?

She stepped inside, the door closing behind her with a soft click. There was a quiet tension in the air now, something charged that made the room feel a little smaller, a little more intimate. She took a deep breath, then spoke again, this time her voice softer but steady.

"You don't know how long I’ve been desiring this moment," she said, her voice light but carrying an undertone of something deeper. It fluttered something in your chest, the words wrapping around you like a soft, warm blanket. "And I thought I never knew someone that oblivious until you."

You stood still, a sense of confusion weaving through you, unsure of what exactly she meant. Her words lingered in the air, sweet yet cryptic, leaving you to untangle their meaning.

Maria, still holding something behind her back, watched you carefully, as if she were waiting for the pieces to click into place. The silence between you two stretched just a bit longer before she finally took a small step forward, her eyes softening as she spoke again.

"Yeah? I'm gonna be oblivious if I don't get a hint at all."

She chuckled softly, a light, teasing sound that only made your heart race more. Great, you look like a fool now. And you looked more like it, still reeling from her words, when you finally smelled something hovering the air.

It’s a scent that carries weight, like a secret or a memory waiting to be discovered, and in this moment, it envelops you completely. The red carnations, with their bold hue, seem to emanate a warmth that matches the scent itself. It’s as if they’re telling you something, inviting you to breathe them in deeper, to notice their beauty—not just in their color, but in the way they fill the air, making everything around you feel alive and in motion.

The scent of red carnations is undeniably rich, distinct, and evocative. Unlike the more delicate and subtle fragrances of some flowers, red carnations carry a deeper, almost spicy sweetness that draws you in. It's a fragrance that can be described as warm, like the earth after a fresh rainfall, grounded and vibrant at the same time. The scent is often a blend of clove-like warmth and a light floral sweetness, creating an aroma that's simultaneously comforting and a bit intoxicating.

As you breathe in, the sharpness of the floral notes lingers in your nostrils, while a soft, almost powdery undertone settles in your chest. There's a lingering note of something woody or herbaceous, adding to the complexity of the scent, reminding you of a garden after dusk, where the earth and flowers converge into a single, tangible essence. The fragrance isn’t overwhelming; it’s present, like a soft, persistent whisper, weaving through the air and gently caressing your senses.

"I’ve admired you since the first time I saw you," Maria said, her gaze never leaving yours." At first, it was just admiration, but then it turned into something more. Something I couldn’t ignore. You’ve always been unintentionally cute with your little quirks... Funny, caring, and just... Kind. Despite our busyness because of our careers, it still made me realize... I love you."

Her words hung in the air like a delicate perfume, surrounding you with warmth and a bit of awe. You stood frozen for a moment, your mind scrambling to catch up with what she was saying. Love? You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t seen it coming, but now that she had said it, everything felt... different.

Maria gently offered the bouquet of red carnations she’d made herself — just like you’d taught her. You could see the care she had put into arranging the flowers, each stem positioned with purpose. The same flowers she had bought from your shop weeks ago now symbolizing something far beyond just a customer’s simple order.

You took the bouquet from her, your hands trembling slightly as you met her gaze. The heat of the moment hit you, but so did the realization. You’d always cared for her. You’d always admired her, maybe even liked her in ways you hadn’t allowed yourself to recognize before. But now, everything was crystal clear.

"I... I love you too," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. Your heart raced, and you took a deep breath, gathering the courage to let the words spill out, words you had kept hidden for so long. "I always admired you too: everything about you. Your looks, your voice... they always drew me in, but I thought maybe it was just admiration. But, I always liked you and loved you."

As the weight of your words settled into the air between you two, the silence that followed felt different; comfortable, like the calm after a storm. Maria’s eyes twinkled with joy, her lips curving into a soft smile, almost like she couldn’t believe it either. You both stood there for a moment, caught in the whirlwind of everything just falling into place, before it all seemed to hit you at once.

And then, in the quiet warmth of the moment, you both burst into laughter, the kind that bubbled up from deep inside, releasing all the tension that had been building. It was a beautiful sound—unrestrained and genuine. You couldn’t help but laugh with her, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders as the joy between you bloomed.

You embraced her arms too,

Maria wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still grinning. "So," she said, her voice dipping lower, teasing, "does this mean I may... Kiss you?"

The air seemed to still for a second, the words hanging there like a promise. The question lingered in your chest like a tender secret you had both been waiting to acknowledge.

“Yes,” you said, barely able to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips.

And with that simple, yet profound exchange, Maria stepped closer, her presence almost electric now. The space between you felt like it was charged with an undeniable pull, the closeness of it making your heart beat faster. She leaned in, and time seemed to slow, the world outside your little bubble fading into a blur.

Her lips met yours in a soft, slow kiss — a kiss that tasted of sweetness and the promise of something new. There was a tenderness in it, like the first rain after a long drought. The warmth of her body against yours, the soft pressure of her lips, it all melded into a feeling of rightness, like everything had led to this moment.

The kiss was gentle, almost tentative, as though you both were savoring the newfound connection, unsure whether to rush or take it in slowly. Your hand, still holding the bouquet of carnations, the faint scent of the flowers lingering in the air, mixing with the soft warmth of her skin. It was a moment suspended in time, one that felt both completely new and strangely familiar, like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

When you finally pulled away, there was a lingering softness, the air around you filled with the quiet contentment of shared emotions. Maria smiled, her eyes sparkling with a newfound light. "I’ve wanted this for so long," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

You playfully laugh knowing what to say next, "And I never knew I could be dating the Maria de la Rosa in my whole life!" you replied. Really, you would never knew in your whole life, not even as a possibility.

Maria chuckled softly at your words, her eyes gleaming with amusement, yet something deeper in them—something more vulnerable. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking at you as if she were seeing you for the first time, a new spark of warmth in her gaze. "Well, you know," she said with a playful smirk, "I’m not just the Maria de la Rosa you see on camera, you know. I’m just... Me."

Her voice was light, but it held the weight of a thousand unsaid things, the quiet vulnerability of someone who'd spent so much time in the spotlight that being seen for who they really were felt like both a gift and a risk.

You smiled back, the full meaning of her words sinking in. You had always admired her from afar, watched her from your little corner of the world, unsure if someone like her could ever look your way. But here she was, with you, and the world outside seemed to fade into the background. Everything felt so surreal, yet so real, as if the universe had quietly shifted to make this moment happen.

"Well," you said softly, your hand brushing against hers once more, a gentle reassurance, "I’m glad it’s you. I don't mind anything else." The words felt natural, a truth you didn’t realize you’d always known until now.

"Yes, but maybe let's keep this a secret for now," Maria murmured, her voice soft like the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. There was a vulnerability to it, an unspoken hesitation, but also a sense of trust. She looked at you, her eyes searching for your response, a subtle spark of hope flickering in them.

You nodded, the air between you feeling light yet charged with something deeper, a shared understanding. "No worries, I don’t mind it either that much since it makes sense, so of course," you replied, your voice steady, yet there was a small tremor of excitement you couldn’t quite hide.

Maria’s expression softened as if she’d been holding her breath all this time. Then, a small sigh escaped her lips, her gaze turning downward. "And before you say something: maybe I should’ve bought the other flowers for the bouquet..." she mused, a playful yet uncertain edge to her words, her fingers absently touching the petals of the red carnations in your hands.

The soft scent of the flowers hung in the air, mingling with the lingering warmth between the two of you. The carnations, with their delicate red petals, seemed to echo the very essence of her—beautiful, slightly wistful, but undeniably real.

But you were incredibly sure that wasn't she meant.

"Roses are more overused, so it's fine," you replied casually, your gaze lingering on the bouquet in your hands. "I don’t mind if there isn’t that much diversity with it." The red carnations seemed to whisper their own story; bold, simple, yet undeniably elegant. You couldn’t help but feel that, in their own quiet way, they spoke volumes about how Maria had expressed her feelings.

"Thank you so much," Maria sighed in relief, her eyes softening with a vulnerability that was rare yet beautiful to see. "And now that I’m here, and we are... dating, I’ve always wanted to spend time with you. Spend the whole day, or even every day together. So I was wondering if we could—"

"Always." You smiled, cutting her off gently, as your heart swelled with a newfound warmth. "I don't have much to do today either, so I’m more than glad that I can spend my time with you."

Maria’s smile deepened, her gaze steady as a quiet understanding passed between the two of you. "I’m glad too."

Ever since, you feel a sensation of blossom from the bouquet of the red carnations Maria handed you.

[deadsnothere]

Hi!! Could I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader fic where it is dark in the evening and the reader and lockwood are cuddling on the couch and its pouring raining and just like enjoying each others presence. Like stealing kisses and just whispering sweet nothings to each other. I would love that!!!! Please take your time!! Thank you so much!!!!

"One love, One lifetime."

Synopsis - Lockwood & Co finally get a rainy day off! but what happens when a blanket gets stolen from its rightful owner?

Request - YES!!

Word Count - 1.8k

Speak Ali! - I'm not dead, I have a theater competition soon so i probably won't be posting may anymore this week other than me ranting. but you can still definitely request shit!!!

Masterlist

We’d finally had a real day off! Whenever Anthony says we’ll have a day off I'm not sure if I can believe him. I mean we’ll have a few hours off at most but then another case comes in urgently and we’ll deal with that. So we almost never have a real day off.

Until today.

It was 8 o'clock on the dot. I finished the dishes after dinner, since I was the one to cook tonight. Wiping down the water from the counter and my hands. I've spent all day doing nothing but reading. It's amazing. I have this adventurous sort of romance book i'm reading right now, I have only 50 pages left of the 430. I got to the part where the main character finds her long lost girlfriend in this big haunted library where she's been under a sleep spell for years. I'm so excited to see how their reunion plays out!

I folded the kitchen towel up and threw it in the small hamper George put out for the kitchen wash. Passing the library, I opened the front door looking out on the rain and “gloom” outside. Lucy was ‘stuck’ at Norries in all the rain, while George was upstairs in his room. Anthony was doing the same, I’d gone up and visited them both a few times, George to make sure he wasn't stressing over our case tomorrow, and Anthony just to say “Hi”. I closed the door and backtracked to the library to finish my book.

I sat down on the chair in front of the desk, reaching back to pull the blanket I had on me earlier back to its rightful spot on my shoulders. But it wasn't there- Who moved my blanket?- no one else had been downstairs!- I stood up looking around the room, almost jumping when I noticed Mr. Anthony Lockwood himself sleeping on the long side chair. He looked kinda uncomfortable, one leg was on top of his knee, while his head was tilted back. My blanket is laying on top of him. I sighed, rolling my eyes lovingly, he is cute. I can't deny it.

“Baby, you have my blanket-” I poked him softly, but he just whispered incoherently back at me. Scrunching his face up and moving away. Oh my god, he is so fucking cute. I kissed his cheek softly, when he didn't move then I went to drastic measures. Attacking his face with kisses, leaving them all over his forehead, nose, lips, cheeks, temples. He woke up very quickly, laughing when I continued to kiss him. “A-Alias what are you doing!” I pulled back from my attack to talk to him. “You have my blanket.” Smiling at him slyly. “Is that really why you woke me up?” He groaned, pulling me into a kiss. I raised an eyebrow back, giggling when he pushed me into his lap. “Are you really that mad about me waking you up how I did?” He thought about it for a second, just shrugging.

I stood up once again to go back to my book but he didn't let go of my hand. “We could always share your blanket.” Anthony made a fair point, with his real genuine smile. Smiling back at him, I softly pulled my hand away. I think his body physically deflated when we let go of contact. but he was quick to reflate when I picked up my book striding back to him. “If you want you can lay your head in my lap while I read- Or I can lay on you.” He was quick to lean against the side of the chair, letting his legs finally stretch out on top of the soft fabric, patting his lap for me to lay down as well. “Well eager, are we?” Giggling, I finally laid down on top of him, my waist in between his legs and arms holding up my book.

We’d stayed like this for a while, Anthony was reading along with me but half way through a paragraph he’d fallen asleep. He always looked so peaceful when sleeping. No matter how stressed he was when he fell asleep there was nothing to worry about, not a care to be shown on his face. He said he used to have bad nightmares, but with me they were always “better” whatever that meant. I guess it either means I make his dreams better or I've stopped the nightmares.

He’s definitely helped me to...After the night of the Fairfax incident he came to my room to sleep, I planned to go to him but he’d beat me to it. Nothing was better than feeling his arms wrap around me (tighter than normal) He confessed the next morning that he was scared, about what happened with Fairfax threatening me, and I ended up giving them more information about my past and what Fairfax had to do with it.

Once I'd finished the book I set it down on the floor turning around to put my face into Anthony's chest. Humming the tune of “All i ask of you” from Phantom of the opera, A Musical I performed in, for a case and for fun. “My words will warm and calm you.” I placed a hand on his cheek rubbing softly, while singing to him and to me. “Let me be your freedom.” I started to hum again when he stirred abit. mumbling my name softly, and going right back to his deep sleep. “Let daylight dry your tears.” When I placed a kiss on his jaw it wasn't meant to wake him this time, more just a soft reminder I was still with him. “I'm here, with you, beside you.” I kissed his jaw again in a different place. “To guard you, and to guide you.”

I still remember how jealous he was when I was first put in the role of Christine daae. He was there every practice and every show being careful to watch how genuinely my reactions were. He's always been protective of me. But he shows it differently, protective in a silent way.

“Say you love me every waking moment.” I closed my eyes humming the song. “Say you need me with you now and always.” I felt a hand slowly lift my head up, pulling me into a kiss. It was passionate and caring, all the love in the world was behind it. “I need you with me, you're my shelter, my light.”

“One love, one lifetime.”

“One love, one lifetime.”

“I could make out with you right now, that was so romantic..” Anthony laughed at my lack of filter rubbing my cheeks with his hands pulling me into a kiss but pulling away before I could keep my words to my mouth. “Your voice is absolutely breathtaking darling.” “You're an idiot.” He smiled at me trying to keep his romantic words going. “You know you’re only saying that because you can't take a compliment.” I gasped, almost offended. (if it weren't so true). “I can take a compliment! I took the compliment show night!” Anthony looked a little too proud of himself. We both knew why he was so touchy that night, him watching me “flow, flawlessly” with another man made his blood boil but instead of getting mad at me for something I couldn't control. He just simply showed the man who’s I was. whether that meant hickeys in more than obvious places, or getting caught kissing in my dressing room. The poor actor always knew who’s I was, and Anthony was always beaming at that fact.

“Show night was different.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “What because you were jealous I danced in another man's arms so you just had to show me off.” He scoffed next, looking away from me with an obvious hint of “I can't protect myself” or I like to think it was that anyway. “I did not show you off. You were on the news and they asked me, how I thought of your performance. When they asked how I was close to you I just don't think they were expecting me to say boyfriend and kiss you…on live tv.” I nodded sarcastically. “My parents called me later that night asking why my shade of burgundy lipstick was being snogged off onto yours on live tv.” He laughed knowing exactly where this was going. “You're lucky they like bold people! you would be dead if it weren't for the fact.”

He swelled with pride. My parents loved him, If it weren't for quill i'm sure they would've loved him even more. “That even got me a few points with your brother.” And in Anthony's position as his “enemy” that's hard. “You don't need points with my brother, idiot.” He knew that better than anyone, if I knew my brother didn't like him for a good reason I wouldn't have joined his company or started dating him. “Alias, Darling, I know. I just feel like maybe earning his respect is still in line here, you are his little sister so I can understand why he would be protective.” He was so sweet when he wasn't wishing my brother dead after saving our asses on a case. “Well baby, I know he definitely respects you after the locket case.”

“The locket case.” During the locket case we were miss informed again. A woman showed up at our door at three am, said she was struggling with a ghost problem. As it was 3 am, George had no time to research, so we all got dressed and went to work on the case. It ended up with me in the hospital, with Anthony in the bed on the other side of the room. He was always an idiot, jumping in front of us and never caring for himself first.

“Those nurses hated us.” The nurses always got mad at us because we were never in our own beds. But we were too nervous to let the other go. Apparently my brother showed up while I was passed out. He said

“Tony sat there bleeding out refusing to room with anyone but you. I thought he was actually going to die on his statement. He was saying all the romantic shit about ‘I can't leave them alone’ and ‘I have to know their ok’. It was disgustingly sweet.”

Quill didn't say it but he respected Anthony for that, I was glad to know they could sort of get along when needed.

Wow I get lost in my thoughts easily, when being pulled out of my head, Anthony had already fallen back to sleep. His heart beat going back to a slow pace, his hands were intertwined at the back of my neck, and his head seemed to be in a much more comfortable position. He's so peaceful. This reminds me of a scene in my book but instead of me finding him in a sleep curse in a giant haunted library, he dragged me down with him.

I kissed his cheek one more time before finally laying my head down to take a nap too. George is going to be pissed in the morning when he finds us, especially since my book is on the floor.

[beentalkingabit]

Things!

A non-introductory post! Still the same stupid o'clock time except now its 7:23 a.m., but I'm still here and I feel like I want to earn my points and put stuff on here. Feels kinda funny doing a silly blog but I'm listening to Hacker by Death Grips, funny stupid contrast brings me joy. Song below it's v good ↓↓

FOR MY FIRst two photos I present you (the non-existent voices in my head) with shitely photographed pasta made from a steak pan sauce with chorizo in it, and a Thylacine I saw in the Natural History Museum. The first because it was very yummy and the first thing I ate after sleeping 13 hours as well as the steak. Never made steak until then and it wasn't hard but I defo did not get the crust like you're supposed to on the bottom but it was indeed medium well! Had some butter, garlic, and shallots in the pan too shit was DELECTABLE and the pasta was honestly better addition. Just kinda wish I didn't have to use a shitty uni hob and kettle for my cooking but, so be it.

The second photo is a thylacine because it looks terrified/it may piss itself and I think it's just kinda stupid looking. Love stupid looking animals, like cats and dogs but it's the most jpeg artifacted thing in the world but goddamn is it good.

Have good evening, afternoon or night and hopefully this strange collection of words did something. who knows at this point.

[winxanity-ii]

⌜No Hoods Attached | Chapter 02 Chapter 02 | stuck-in⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

You hummed a slow tune under your breath as you stuffed extra streamers into a trash bag.

After lunch, you and Seora were once again separated as you both had to head back to your respective groups to finish setting up.

Everyone then spent the next four hours rushing around, fixing up the room that the fan-meeting would be held in.

"Great job, you guys! The room looks amazing!" Sang-hun smiled, his voice echoing in the large room. "Since the time is nearing nine o'clock, that means that the concert is close to ending."

You halted in your steps, mind short-circuiting at the preppy, grey-haired male's words; you completely forgot that a concert was currently going on as you all were preparing the room for the fan-meeting.

"I now ask everyone to exit and make their way down the hall, where we will have group photos taken before being dismissed."

Setting the box down by the other boxes, you followed after the other volunteers.

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to take off your jacket. Its red color clashes against the purple of the volunteer shirts and would stand out." A random woman, who had 'Section Leader' on her shirt, told you with an apologetic look on her face before moving on to another volunteer with a similar wardrobe error as yourself.

You frowned as you pulled the hoodie off of your body, internally screaming about how much you didn't want to do so; it was sort of like a shield between you and the world, and now without it, you felt kind of naked.

With your hoodie draped over the side of your arm, you began following the crowd of volunteers out of the room once more. Before you completely left the room, you decided to sit the jacket down on a long, metal table, opting to come back for it after the pics were taken.

☆

☆

"I would like to once again thank everyone for volunteering and helping out." Mrs. Lee smiled as she stood in front of the room filled with volunteers. "Now that the concert has ended, this is the end of your volunteer work and the beginning of the fan-meeting.

Please grab a gift bag on your way out as we prepare to transition BTS from the concert hall to here. Once again, thank you all for your service, and have a wonderful night."

Soft conversations flowed as everyone began to break away.

"Come on, let's head out." Seora found her way next to you, nodding towards the exit.

As you both followed behind a group exiting the room, you rubbed your face, cheeks a bit sore from all of the big smiles you had to conjure up for the photos.

"Hey, you good?" Seora stared over at you in a bit of concern.

"Yeah, I just never had to smile so much."

A snort left your best friend's body, "Wow, way to sound so asocial."

About halfway out the door, you remembered something. "Shit. I almost forgot my hoodie."

"Where is it?"

"I think I left it back in the room where the fan-meeting is being held."

Seora allowed a low whistle to exit her mouth. "Ooh. That's kinda fucked up."

You rubbed your arms in worry. "Do you think they'll let me get it before it starts?"

"Probably not. Remember, they're moving BTS to the room as we speak, so they'll most likely have guards posted around the area."

You began to bite on the inside of your cheek, anxious at the thought of being unable to retrieve your jacket as well as the possibility of it being thrown away.

Seeing the look on your face, Seora gave your shoulder a firm pat. "Hey, don't fret too much. Though I said they wouldn't let us go back there, that doesn't mean we can't try."

"But what if we get caught?"

"Then we get caught. I mean, the worst that can happen is us going to jail and being charged with some type of assault or stalking charge, but if it means getting your hoodie back, then I'd gladly spend the night in a cell."

You calmed down a bit at her words, "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Hell yeah! What kind of a bestie would I be if I let you go to jail by yourself?" Seora smiled, giving your arm a little nudge, "So let's go get it."

Using the moving group of volunteers as a cover, the two of you broke away and dashed down the hall. After a few minutes of sprinting and dodging fretting workers, you and Seora arrived at the door.

"Alright, we're here." The metal door had a poster of the seven-membered band, something that wasn't there before.

Grabbing the handle, you creaked open the door, peeking inside of the small hall. After a few seconds of waiting, you heard no footsteps or voices that indicated someone was there. "Okay, I think it's empty. Let's go."

As you made a move to sneak inside, Seora stopped you with a hissed, "Wait a sec."

You turned to face her, wanting to know why she did so. "What? Aren't you gonna come with me?"

"I can't. I have to stay behind and watch out for anyone coming."

Your head nodded in understanding. It made more sense for only one of you to retrieve the jacket instead of both. "Okay, I'll be quick."

Sending you two thumbs up, Seora gave you a bright smile. "Good luck, chump."

Shaking your head, you cracked open the door wide enough for you to slip inside, shutting it behind you with a faint 'click'.

Tiptoeing further into the area, you made your way down a mini hall before coming into a familiar area; your eyes immediately spotted your bright red jacket hanging off of the metal table covered in a long purple cloth.

As you made your way towards the table, you were able to make out the faint sound of conversations and clicking cameras beyond the tall black curtains that shielded the rest of the room from the back area.

Curious, you made a small detour past the table towards the opening of the curtains. A shocked gasp left your lips at the sight of nearly two hundred people seated out in the area, talking excitedly amongst one another, while several photographers took photos of everything.

"Nope. Nope. Nope." Backing away from the curtains, you quickly turned around, making your way back towards the table. Just as you picked up your red hoodie, you heard the opening of the metal door.

Head shooting up, you panicked for a bit before recalling having Seora out there as the lookout.

She would have warned you if it were anyone else.

With this in mind, you felt yourself calm down. But, before you could open your mouth and call out her name, a wicked idea sprang through your head: this would be the perfect opportunity to get payback for her scaring you last week.

As you heard the footsteps nearing, you quickly grabbed the jacket and ducked underneath the table.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you couldn't help but allow an evil-like cackle to echo inside of your mind as a pair of feet came into view.

This will no doubt be the scare of the month, you thought, picturing the frightened expression on your dear friend's face when you scare the fuck out of her.

As the feet came closer to the table, you mentally prepared yourself to reach forward and grab her by the ankles. Okay, in one...two...thㅡ

Your thoughts were immediately cut off in shock as the pair of feet were joined by six other pairs.

As your mind raced to piece everything together, you watched as the seven pairs of shoes were pulled out from under the chairs seated at the table, sitting down; you were met with a plethora of different shoe brands and colors.

Wait...seven?

Time seemed to stop as it finally clicked.

The sound of the curtains getting pulled backfilled your ears before being overshadowed by the exclamations of excited fans.

"The moment you've all been waiting for...BTS!" Eyes wide, your mouth dropped in horror at the announcer's words; you were a mere centimeters away from the one and only BTS.

Shit.

A/N: HAHAHAHA

[rennsdeaddoves]

journey to the west book one, thoughts

so this post is going to be really messy and jumbled, i will take my thoughts one chapter at a time. since this post contains all the chapters in book one imma but everything under the cut and warn ya'll that this is HELLA long.

ok so, before we get into it i just wanna let you guy's know that if the first 13 chapters seem like they have less it's because i only really started to do this on chapter 14 and had to go back through chapters 1 - 13 and look at the notes and tabes i left to gage my reaction to them. some of them have a bit more than others and some have like none at all.

that being said enjoy the absolute crack house that is my no cotext thoughts of Journey to the West volume one!

Chapter 1

monkey is born!!

and he's already being impulsive...

calling him the handsome monkey king is gonna go straight to his head

lier! you are a certified shit disturber and you know it!

ohhhhh so thats how he got the name Sun Wukong, gotcha gotcha

Chapter 2

the dao art seems real complex

love how they casually have the way to immortality written in this book lol

teaching a suicidaly impulsive monkey how to shape shift and fly wasn't a bad idea at all!

he's showing off- of course he is-

aaaaaand he got kicked out for showing off! idiot-

oh damn- thats actually sadder than i thought it would be...

HE CALLS THEM LITTLE ONES!!! CUUUTE!!!!

HOW DARE!?!?!

Chapter 3

holy hell....

op much???

not a monkey scaring a dragon ffs

he is just a menace this entire page! LAMO

GOD DAMN-

THEY WANT HIM OUT SO FUCKING BAD XDDDD

bruh-

ooooooop foreshadowing alert

THATS BULLSHIT!! THEIR EXAGERATING THE HELL OUT OF IT!!!

oh- oh he really fucked up the life and death cycles- damn...

smart!!!!

he was thinking of paying a visit to heaven himself?? without an invite?? oh- that would not have ended well-

Chapter 4

here we go! first rampage through heaven!!

deva

NEZHA!!!!

ITS GIVING "who's this sassy lost kid?" VIBES XD

Chapter 5

does he not have a reputation yet???

Wukong is in so much fucking trouble oh god....

idiot

going to war over wine is a very Wukong thing to do-

Chapter 6

when did Nezha get here?

shapeshifter duels man... they be confusing af

oop he got caught-

Chapter 7

they seem to have forgotten what the meaning of immortal is

oop- he's being refered to as a monster instead of a king by the narrator- thats how you know he's pissed beyond all belief...

OH HES MAD MAD

HOLY FUCK

"i have to go exorcise a demon to defend the throne." pg 193

"he ligit just wrote "sun wukong was here" oh the fucking finger lmao

man... calling the banquet that is just salt in the wound.... really it is...

Chapter 8

sandy's got green skin, red hair, noted

it's pigsy -n-

he flirted with Chang'e..... this bitch

i already can't fucking stand him

Chapter 9

so he does have parents! lets see if they ever pop up again-

WHAT!?!?! WHY!?!!

Chapter 10

i didn't take in a sing thing that this chapter sad.... why is it even here-

Chapter 11

no thoughts head empty, why are we still on this? is there any plot relevance or???

Chapter 12

awwww their cute

good for him, coming from such humble beginnings

wow- ok thats kinda a really great honour to be called brother by the emperor

Chapter 13

lots of scenery! neat!

wft....

oop divine intervention o'clock

abuse???? hello??? what the actual fuck sir???

COWARD!!!

i am going to get so sick of him so quickly....

WUKONG!?!?!?!!!!! YER BACK!!!!!! YEEEEEAHHHHHHHHH

Chapter 14

wukong- bud... YOUR FUCKING FILTHY

yell that your not lying makes you less believable

HE'S NAKED?!?! OFC HE IS

brutal.... nice

ight show off, keep rambling about the shit you can do.

gay? /j but fr- i get that a naked monkey coming to your door may be a cause for concern but there was no reason to disrespect him like that-

he has a son??? when???

gross man- like i get you were trapped under a mountain- but gross

brutal... nice

EXCUSE YOU WHAT?!?! NAH, NAH HE DID NOT

A FEW WORDS?!?! FAM YOU READ HIM FOR A WHOLE PARAGRAPH SHUT YOUR MOUTH

thats not teaching tripitaka- a lecture is NOT teaching

GUAINYIN IS HERE!!! oh... Guanyin is here...

oh... fuck...

why is his name just 'Pilgrim' like i get it but i also don't... idk

oh he's gonna do it out of spite now for being called a bogus immortal by the dragon king

that entire painting is just of two gay lovers putting on shoes and getting immortality for it

well, he actually is really convincing, i can see why Wukong went back after those words...

yeah i'd be taken aback too bud

.......YOU COULD FINISH THE JOURNEY RN.... but he won't, that defeats the entire porpoise of it all

THIS BITCH!!!! I WILL ACTUALLY KILL HIM

HE ONLY STOPPED CAUSE I WAS AFRIAD THE FILLET WOULD BREAK

ON GOD I WILL THROW HANDS WITH A MONK I WILL

HE STARTED UP AGAIN?!??!!? STOP!!!!

OH OH! so you stop when you see how the pain is LITTERALLY TEARING HIS BODY APART! fuck you

HE ACTUALLY TRIED TO KILL HIM!?!?!?!? oh my god- i mean.... jesus.....

yes. its a great idea to go to the south sea and beat up the goddess who did this to you... super smart /s

all thoughts of disobedience and rebellion? no shot

Chapter 15

ah yes, lets start the chapter with Wukong hauling ass to save Tripitaka

Jesus them some powerful eyes

omg SHUT UP

YES YELL AT HIM WUKONG!!!

namby-pamby??

lawless lizard XD

harsh

they talk about him like he's not the son of a dragon king...

OH SHES PISSED AT HIM

so he's called 'third prince Jade dragon' gotcha

he's a fucking idiot

why are you being such a baby all of a sudden??

neat, he got the get out of danger free leaves now

if Rue had been in this part of the journey she would have been pretty interested in that

plot armour be like-

impressive

more divine intervention! oh my god-

so now it's early spring. jesus that means its almost been a year

Chapter 16

i don't know wether to be annoyed or what- were only a page into this chapter

"he may be ugly" BITCH WHAT

yeah... ight... i'd be annoyed with him too

somesones butt hurt that hes oooooold~

everyone is starting to get on my nerves like jesus-

wow the murder plots are real

he askin' for favours like he didn't just beat their asses 500 years ago

he's a little arsonist

LMAO UNO REVERSE BITCH

damn- he's already on shockingly good terms with him

HE SAVED YOU AND YOUR GONING TO PUNISH HIM FOR IT!?!?!

I'M GOING TO THROW HANDS WITH A MONK ISTG

and after all that your response is still murder??? really????

goddman.... he so mad he defiled a corpse- that wasn't very buddhist of you tripitaka

Chapter 17

not tripitaka using wukongs temper against others-

jesus christ man

"thunder god mouth" XDDD best way to describe it 10/10

THE THREATS

XDD the arrogance!! he called the demon "my son" before starting a lecture XDD

he gets annoyed when people call him the BanHorsePlague now, thats so fucking funny to me

he's so real for that though, i'd wanna eat in the middle of a fight too

he is actually a menace to humans goddamn

HE REDUCED THE DEMON TO A BURGER

love how their calling him 'old carcass'

there is a lot of seemingly nice senery in this chapter

how'd they know all of that just by seeing a goddamn meat patty on the side of the road???

this is gonna be a pattern isn't it-

conversations with these two go no where but damn they do be giving me L O R E

he's being so nice now lmao

wft....

ok *fine* she gets a pass but jesus

GRAPHIC

jesus wukong

HA got'em

"don't start trouble again" "i won't" LIES

Chapter 18

oooooh this is the pigsy chapter!!! i can't wait to see some ass be beat!

i- i don't think i like these people...

Wukong really just said don't judge a book by it's cover

why does he always say "your poor monk" it's grinding my gears

"tell me everything!" .... "from ancient times-"

his surmname meant hog....

i can only picture that one manga panel in jjk where Yuta is dragging Yuji along lmao

ancient toilet humour?

"where are you going darling" he says as he returns to his original form

love that wukong is described and then called "virtually a living thunder god"

"i'll follow you to the ends of the earth" (menacingly)

Chapter 19

why do they all have caves?

it is pigsy

damn- Wukong's reading him

are they really throwing celestial law at one another??

he's bragging... really?

ah yes, a summary of the first seven chapters

he really said set your house on fire and follow me

man's really stripped him of all he was worth and then dragged him by the ear... he's like a mom...

HE'S REFERED TO AS IDIOT! oh this just got so much better

lmao both of them going "wine? oh we still drink that"

Wukong admitted to being a light weight XD

pigsy, trying to say a heart felt goodbye, the other two; hurry the fuck up

"you know him and not me? what kind of fuckery is this?"

"he insulted me and the pig?!" "how?" *proceeds to tell tripitaka exactly how he and pigsy were insulted*

Chapter 20

just by the title alone i know imma start to have beef with pigsy

they still call him idiot! YES

it's pigsy getting bullied hours!!!

that- that was a very round about way of calling him a dick Wukong

annnnnd he's boasting again...

huh? flying bricks, talking pots, and dancing tiles... interesting...

this old man has balls

"fix your ugliness" DUUUUUDE

i'm about to highlight each and every time Pigsy is refered to as Idiot! shits too funny!

ahhhhh pigsy's first kill steal!

OH SHIT NVM

dude just ripped off his own skin! what a power move!

jesus-

and we get to the first time tripitaka is truely captured!

"for you culinary pleasure" XDDDD why is that so funny?

this guy's actually quite smart for that

damn...

good wisdom wukong

i love how wukong is so often describes as "the one with the thunder god mouth and hairy face"

he's got a good sense to be this scared of him

monkey-monk?? (why is that so funny to me???)

he just told wukong he was a 'buy one get one free sale'!! AND HE'S THE FREE BIT XDDDDDD

KILL STEAL!!! +1 for butality, pigsy's score is now -99 points!

Wukong actually let him have credit for the kill? goddamn- is that character growth i see?

Chapter 21

no he does not!

Aqua man?????

Really?? *face palms*

why does he insist on calling himself grandpa?

is he about to disapline him like a grandpa too??

Coward

the divine wind of Samādhi? like the Samādhi fire? NEAT!!!

more divine intervention i see

the trend of calling pigsy an idiot continues and i am thriving in this enviornment

can he be any less annoying?

*crybaby beings to play on loop in my head*

idiot

it was the fucking gold star of venus

very humble wukong

lawless ape! XDDD

love that offending the great sage is quite possibly a crime punishable by death now

Chapter 22

its sandy time!!!

wouldn't that be qualifies as an inland sea?!

i don't know how to feel about that entire passage

cloud surfing lessons

he called Wukong his assistant- oh boy if he had heard that...

he can be there in half an hour?! wild...

sandy is aquired

Chapter 23

still love that his nickname is practically idiot

please- stop refering to your staff as a rod- i can't take reading "you'll get a ___ from this Huge Rod!" anymore T-T

you fucking idiots- your banter has now left the master stranded and he's gonna get captured by demons!

serves you right

Wu kong being so shocked he actually acted poliet?

Unreal and nonexisting- well those are some red falgs if i've ever seen em in this book

SHIT JUST GOT SO MUCH FUNNIER OMFG

she just keeps going!? dude- please- how can someone have so much

omg- this is all a test of character isn't it...

tripitaka; wukong you stay! Wukong; the fuck you mean me!? make pigsy stay

the entier latter half of this page pisses me off. fuck you pigsy

OH EW! SEVEAR ICK- GROSS

I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU GREEDY WHORE

I KNEW IT WAS A TEST OF CHARACTER!!!!!! I WAS RIGHT!!!!

Chapter 24

serves him fucking right

i agree with Wukong, leave the pig and go

holy hell they haven't even covered one tenth of the distance yet?

this is the chapter that that one monkey king animated movie was about.

to cowardly to do it himself so he's gotta wait for Wukong lmao

thus begins an entire two-ish pages of Wukong stealing fruit again

Wukong makes me nevious frfr

if it were so embarissing maybe you shouldn't have done it in the first place

Chapter 25

wukong.... buddy.... no.....

good plan boy's

dude can pick (break?) locks.... good to know

why do you fight first and ask questions later....

he escaped thrice, got catpured thrice, kept playing tricks..... dude just wouldn't fucking stop....

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Well here's part 2! ( ≻⸝⸝⸝≺ ྀི)

How can I deny a nice cup of tea and a massage ? There's no way. I thank you dearly.

You and Nanami probably gonna kill me with a huge sermon about not working overtime to which I have been doing more, and my poor health has been less healthy. I should say. But I'm managing it and taking care as much as I can. At some point I'll slow down a bit with the extra shifts.

May I adoringly nickname you as my Wifey now ? Is that okay ? Instead of Workwives we are Ficwives? (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Gonna start tagging our conversations as "The Miscellaneous Misadventures and Mischiefs of Noni & Kat", watcha thing about that ?

Take all the time you need about posting fics, sweetie. I follow discontinued stories and some that I have been waiting for idk three+ years to be continued ? I'm very patient in waiting even with my chronic issue problems. Like anxiety. Your slow cooking is worth the wait and it's gonna be delightful! (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠)

Please if I start yapping too much just tell.me to shut up that I'll go back to my void corner. But I would like to thank you, Bacon and Mrs Haitch and other dear moots that slowly got me into asking /interacting / talking more around here. You've all been so dear and welcoming ! You have no idea how that has affected me! Idk how many years I've been here, and I'm always dead silent. I just leave little thank you's and a small comment or notes on something. So thank you for adopting this stray cat.

It's wonderful people like you and them and your wonderful stories that have kept me going all these years, doesn't matter if it's an image, drabble, one shot, a whole 100 + chapter fic, that brings so many times comfort from the harsh real life world.

I am immensely grateful to have meet you, and for having you as a friend! And them included. (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

Please do be feral ! It can happen always at anytime whatever the circumstances! I love and support feral ladies and everyone else ! Don't hold back ! Go absolutely gnawing feral over the things that matter for you and that you like talking about.

Now pouring the Tea !

I should leave you hanging a bit longer just for the pleasure of torturing you a little bit. But I won't. I might have the murderous resting face but I'm a softie by heart.

What can I say ? Before my brain fried ?

The little bit I observed, because yes I am shy and introvert irl, I barely talk and keep it mostly to myself, but I have a error on my code, depending on what happens, I blush easily (yes yes I know here am I 25+ blushing so bad that sometimes the tip of my ears get pink too, its horrible, there goes my bad face facade through the window) and sometimes my colleagues try to get that reaction out of me, which is hard because I know how to hide well. But sometimes like this, there's no way of denying and oh boy did they get a kick out of it, it was the talk all day. lol

It's a small bakery coffee shop, nothing glamorous or like Starbucks. It's local. Since the town basically revolves around tourism on the weekends usually it cramps up a bit. But mostly it's just the same old costumers.

But this guy never showed up here, on the shop. From the little I could observe, because usually I slyly avoid too eye contact much. He's tall, I would say early 50's ? Dark brown hair with some silverfox strands showing. A five o'clock shadow of a beard. Very well dressed, and accompanied. Yes yes. What you think about this glimpse of him ? I guess handsome in his ways ? Idk. But he was so polite.

Maybe one day I get lucky enough to meet someone with Nanami vibes, and things happens just as you described ?

Thank you for interacting with me ! Form your support and friendliness! I appreciate it so much, blessed be sweetie ! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

With love,

Kat

My beautiful Love,

You're in the absolute correct place. In a perfect utopia, we would never have to work overtime, we would be fed and taken care of, and the world would not be the shit show that it is today.

Unfortunately, for us, we do not live in such a world and are forced to trudge to our places of work everyday. Slaves chained to a never ending unrewarding system that drains the very soul out of our selves.

Regardless. You must prioritise yourself, my love. You must. Because you are a ray of sunshine in this world and you should never be dimmed.

It goes without saying that I will keep writing. Keep creating. Whether it's a short or long or one like or smau whatever. Writing is everything to me. (It's actually going to be what 10 years of my writing and postings online I think ahahah) And though I'm not big and popular i don't care because interactions like yours MAKE MY DAY.

Darling.

I LOVE coffee shops like that. It sounds like a dream! Oh I'd love to meet "the one" in such a place. I have gobbled more coffee shop au stories than I can count and just love it. Keep em coming. But again, please look after yourself also.

Our Coffee Shop Silver Fox (CSSF) sounds totally daddy! Terribly attractive men who just breeze in and out being polite as shit are my actual honest to god weakness. Like marry me. Right now good sir pit a fucking ring on it.

I don't blame you for being flustered, I would be too!

And I hope you don't mind me saying but, my love, you sound gorgeous jsjs. 🫣🫣🫣

Stay safe, look after yourself, and make sure to drink enough water and eat your meals on time lovey.

Yours, in prose,

Wifey🩷

I wanna tag real quick here @uchihasanctuary and @pseudowho because they deserve to know you're a cutie who thinks about them too. (But we all know u love me mostest, right... ? )