#reciprocating care? even if it's not the same kind of care it's still care. you provide what the other person needs when they cant provide

[artisanalpeanutbutter]

Not gonna lie

I dont think I'll ever forgive my parents for how poorly they mishandled our dog's health. I constantly felt as though it was my fault even though I quite literally couldn't do any more than i did. I still feel as though it was my fault. He deserved so much fucking better. I love him, and he had to endure such horrible skin problems because my parents refused to take him to a better vet because they were convinced the one they went to was fine. Even though I protested them for YEARS. I tried so fucking hard to get them to see what was going on but they just let it get worse and worse. They would never listen. And I couldn't take him somewhere on my own because I was a kid with no money. My sibling was too busy to notice. And my mom couldn't accept that it was her fault, and that she could've done better. I think she knows now but is still denying it to herself. My dad, quite frankly, didn't care.

[etheries1015]

Hello! I hope your having a good day while reading this but I was wondering if you could write a fic about the housewardens reacting to their s/o koala holding them when they sleep!

Awee that's a cute idea! The house wardens with their little Koala humans heuheu.

TWST housewardens react to their s/o holding them while they sleep

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader, probably shorter than you may have hoped, I'm sorry :( But I hope you still like it!

Riddle Rosehearts

The first time you two slept in the same bed, he was caught off guard when he was suddenly engulfed by your arms. I see him as the type to sleep on his back, still and quiet, and suddenly that is disturbed by the significant other grabbing hold of his arm and utilizing half of his body to be subjected as your personal body pillow. He may find it uncomfortable initially, however, he finds a happy medium by adjusting his form to work with yours whilst still giving him a full night of proper rest. you of course weren't in control of how you slept, and was rather grateful you trusted him as much.

"Were you aware you tend to hug me in your sleep?" He chuckled, "Huh? No, I do not mind. I found a comfortable position to sleep in so that we both got what we wanted. You don't need to sleep elsewhere, I feel...strangely comforted by your embrace..."

Leona Kingscholar

you don't even get the chance to do it first, he already has you beat. He is most assuredly the first to fall asleep between the two of you, his arms are wrapped around your waist and head propped against your shoulder before you had the chance to reciprocate. HE is the koala between the two of you. However, when you wake up in the morning you find that you're now facing him, a tangle of arms and legs as if during the night you both sought to be closer to one another. One big cuddle competition. Yet it was oddly comforting, how you both slept very similarly. Sometimes you're more aggressive than he is though, with your legs bent and holding him in your grasp on the odd days you fall asleep first. It restricts his movements from being able to adjust himself the way he wants, so he isn't shy to wake you up.

"Oy, wake up. I wanna move. Eh? You're comfortable like this? I don't care, let me hold you instead."

Azul Ashengrotto

I will die on this hill when I say that Azul sleeps kind of like an Octopus in his human form, with his arms and legs spread out on the bed. it's his highest form of vulnerability and trust in you for you to sleep in the same bed as him, so of course he will want to practice the same for you. Even when you grab hold of one (or a few) of his limbs and cuddle him as if you were the koala and he the branch, he doesn't mind whatsoever. He is a very still sleeper, so he doesn't feel his movements to be constricted whenever you cuddle him in such a way.

"Do I mind the way you grab hold of me while we are sleeping? No, not at all. If I am being completely honest, it's rather nice..." He falters, "I see it as a form of affection and trust, a sign that you feel safe with me. I rather that not change."

Kalim Al-Asim

He thinks it's the cutest thing in the entire world he has ever seen. The way you grab hold of him in your sleep as if you were claiming him to be yours, he thinks it's wonderfully splendid! It's as if you were being possessive, or you found him to be a soft pillow to grab hold of at night and cuddle with. Honestly, the first time it happened, he got so excited he had to hold in his squeals of satisfaction and joy to not wake you. He revels in this, his head leaning against yours as you use your entire body to hold him close to you. Kalim honestly can't think of a cuter habit for someone he loves to have.

"When you grab hold of me at night, it's the best feeling ever! Oh oh, tonight, can I hold you instead? let's reverse the roles! I want to hold you too- Oh, you won't get a good night's sleep that way? well, that's alright! I'll be your personal pillow as much as you want! Hehe!"

Vil Schoenheit

Vil always had a strong disposition to have a good night's rest. He had his reserves about sleeping in the same bed as you for a while, however, his desire to be close to his beloved outweighed his desire for model sleep. He finds it rather cute when you are in a deep sleep and your arms and legs automatically take him in your grasp. He never thought he would be able to properly sleep with another person by his side, so he is pleasantly surprised when the soft warmth of your body actually helps him get a better rest than ever. He feels safe and at ease in your arms, a strong contrast to the craziness of his everyday life. Being in the public eye he isn't fond of PDA, so at night when it is truly just the two of you, he savors every moment you bless him with your embrace. It's a truly peaceful feeling for him, the way you cutely cuddle into his body without a care in the world about who he is, how he sleeps, and what he looks like in his vulnerable state. It's just... you and him. Nobody else. It's a very intimate time for him.

"Your sleeping habits? Hmm...well, you grab hold of me every night. What? No, it doesn't obstruct my sleep. If anything, I have been feeling much more energized in the mornings...don't overthink it and come over here, my potato. It's time for bed, and I expect to be very thoroughly cuddled."

Idia Shroud

Oh my gosh. You have claimed him. Now he can't move a single muscle, like a cat you have made him your property. If he moves even a single inch, he knows it would ruin the flow and there would be a possibility of you moving, and he doesn't want that. It's like having a cat on your chest, and the second you move even a toe, the cat decides it's tired of you and moves on. Idia doesn't mind if he looses a little bit of sleep staring at the ceiling to allow you the majority of his body to cuddle, he's never been more elated about being in the same bed as someone before. He likes it a little too much, there was one time you were scrolling on his phone to find pictures of you cuddling him at night. An entire photo album in his gallery, in fact.

"N-n-nothing! that's nothing! Don't look, it's not...it's not what you think...oh jeez, you probably think I'm a total weirdo who takes pictures of people when they sleep-- no! not other people, it's just you! I- wait. That was a trap. You set me up for failure with that comment. Ahh, this is so embarrassing...please don't stop! I...I just like it so much when you hold me tight when you sleep...ugh. I can't believe I just said that, I sound like a corny male lead. Don't read too much into it, can't a man just enjoy his significant other's sleeping habits? Jeez..."

Malleus Draconia

You don't get the chance to cling to him, when you sleep with a dragon, they decide to do that for you. When you first slept together in the same bed, he was grabbing hold of you tightly, wrapping his body to be the koala and YOU the branch. There was only one particular night when he slept with his tail free, and you grabbed hold of it in your sleep. He woke up to feeling something pressed against his tail, looking back to see you had taken upon yourself to fully engulf your arms and your legs wrapping around to match. He was fully in your trap! After that, he found a way for both of you to be happy. Holding you in his arms, he adjusted his tail to fit snuggly in the middle of you two, enough for you to grab hold of it in your sleep whilst he was simultaneously holding onto you. Malleus would have preferred wrapping his tail around your body, however seeing you so at peace with it within your grasp, he made an exception.

"Be careful, my dearest. I wouldn't want my tail to hurt you by mistake, so you must be gentle. Ah- my lockscreen? Yes, I can't help but smile every time I gaze upon this photo I had taken, so I had Diamond assist me in changing my mobile device screen. Perhaps I shall take a few more photos, you are rather adorable grasping onto me like a babe to a blanket."

~~

Link to my masterlist

[theleotarot]

What Would A Relationship With Them Be Like? ♡

This tarot reading can be for those who are wondering what it would be like in a relationship with their person of interest, crush, talking stage, friend, etc.

Pick the image(s) that you feel drawn to or resonate most with. They are in order from left to right. Pile 1,2,3, and 4. ♡

Ko-Fi tipping and extended readings

Pile 1

(The Hierophant rx, Seven of Wands, Four of Wands, The Magician, Three of Swords, Two of Swords, & Ten of Pentacles, Twin Flames, & Let Go of Control Issues)

Hi Pile 1, welcome to your reading! So for my pile 1s, I believe that at the beginning of your relationship, your person would have a bit of trouble committing. I feel like this is because maybe in the past, they've had some sort of trauma or loss that is stopping them from committing to you, however I do feel like your person feels like you are the right person for them. They do see your great qualities but there is just something that is blocking them fully giving their heart to you. I see your person wanting to do relationship things with you but in some way, you feel like maybe this person isn't the right one for you because of their trouble with commitment or consistency, and it's not that they don't feel any romantic feelings for you, but it’s because they actually do. I just feel like they aren't capable of fully expressing the way they love towards you or how much they love you because of past hurt. This really makes you feel that you're unsure if your person is really for you because you have other things in your life going on, like school, work, or family life, but at the same time you want that love and relationship with your person. So I do think that your relationship with this person would involve a lot of ups and downs about commitment or consistency, especially at the beginning stages but I do see that after you both come to an agreement on this issue and resolve it, I see huge commitment here with the four of wands. I see that the biggest aspect of you and your person's relationship is working together to solve conflicts, especially with the seven of wands right in the middle of your reading. I believe that even if your person is somehow emotionally unavailable to you, if both of you communicate your needs and accommodate to one another, I believe that there is so much potential to have a beautiful relationship with another. I see a lot of twin flame energy here. I believe that both of you have kind of opposite viewpoints on love or different perspectives of what love is and I think that's where you both clash heads. I think regardless of your person having emotional problems, they still have very, very strong feelings for you, and on your end, you have very strong feelings for them because you see so much potential in them being your partner the same way that they see you. That's why I think that as your relationship progresses, both of you will turn out to be on the same page and once that conversation happens, you both are willing to work together and your relationship will turn into something very committal, reciprocal, and loving.

In your relationship I do see that your person will do things that make you feel like “Wow I can’t believe they did this for me.” I think that this person surely does want to give you their all and they want to woo you. Again, I do see that your person really wants to give you the love that you deserve but they just aren't fully capable of doing that, but I do see that they will learn to learn your love language, how you see love, what your perspective on love is, and they will turn around eventually with time to accommodate to your needs. With you I sense that you bring a lot of warmth and stability to your relationship. In a way, I feel that you love giving gifts to people you care about too so you might spoil them in this relationship lol. I think if you were in a relationship with your person, you would be extremely devoted to them and would be a great partner in teamwork and building your life along with theirs. And I think that you really do affect this person in a very much positive way because with their past trauma that has hurt them. I think they're able to confide in you and trust you and this plays a big role into why they would want to change their ways of thinking to be with you. Pile 1, your reading is a bit on the darker side of the energy but I think that's because your person has probably gone through so much and it's affected them a lot in terms of the mental and emotional aspect. This might lead you to feeling high anxiety and makes you wonder if this would be the right person for you if you were in a relationship with them but getting the four of wands card, twin flame card, and the wedding card at the back of the deck signifies that if both of you are willing to look at love in the same way and put in your efforts to work through it, there is light at the end of the tunnel that may lead to marriage and the commitment that you want. It just takes time and patience, whether if it's your person or you. I do see a lot of attraction in this relationship, even if someone might be guarded up. The attraction and admiration would still be lingering when problems arise and I think that when problems do arise, it's very hard for both of you to let each other go. That's why I say that both of you do need to work extremely hard in this relationship to make it last.

Ko-Fi Extended Reading: Is there a chance of this relationship coming into fruition? + Advice

If you enjoyed this reading, please consider donating to my tip jar on Ko-Fi. Any donation is greatly appreciated. 💖

Pile 2

(The Emperor, Three of Pentacles, The Magician, Two of Swords, Ace of Swords, Nine of Wands, Two of Cups, Not Today, & True Love)

Hi pile 2, welcome to your reading! So first off, I want to say that if you were in a relationship with your person, there would be such a strong sense of structure and direction. Only take what resonates, but this may be a coworker or a friend from a group project that you may be working on. If that does not resonate, then what I want to say to you is that you and your person work very well together. You both have similar viewpoints, not just in love, but in other aspects of the world. I think you both may have something in common, if not work-related, then maybe academically related on some level. You both have common interests in something particular and can build a connection very easily based on similar interests. Your relationship with them would also be reciprocal and if you want to work on this, they would be willing to work on that. I feel very strongly that your person does try their best to provide for you in your relationship. I think that they would be more traditional, meaning they would be the one to take the man's role and help you out financially, mentally, and emotionally. They would want you to be in your feminine energy and they just want you to feel like you are in your own power because they see the magic in you.

Now I do feel like in your relationship, maybe you have some sort of fears like abandonment or feeling hurt from something from the past. You may feel guarded in your relationship just a bit in the beginning of this relationship and this person sometimes may be in their head contemplating what should they do to bring the relationship more alive so you can feel secure. Of course, overtime you will trust them and open up. I do see them being a very great communicator with you. I think one way that they possibly can show you their love is through words of affirmation. I think maybe they would be straightforward to you on how they feel about you, or in your relationship, they would be the one to ask how was your day on text message or on the phone. When problems arise, they're able to actually communicate with you about the problem and how they can make you feel better. I do think that your person is someone who does not want to play games. Once they are committed to someone, they don't like the mind games. They want to be with the person that they love and want to court them regardless if there is a relationship already. They feel like that's the man's role- the acts of service is what I'm picking up on too. They want to treat their lady like she is the queen, which he should. Now you feel very romantic with them. I believe that you are very romantic when it comes to relationships after you finally trust the person, and they show you that they are worthy of your time and effort. I believe that sometimes you do like setting up dates, like home dates with nice candles and nice decorations on the wall. It's not easy for you to let anyone in in your life, yet you let your person in your life, and they show you that love can be easy and love is real with the right person. Once that lover side of you comes out, all the love and romance you feel for your person releases. I think you'd be very touchy with them, and they would love that. I think you really love how reassuring they could be with their words, their actions, and the way they maneuver the relationship. I think what they love about you is how genuine and sweet you are. They also view you as someone who's more than them in a sense. I also feel like you stand up for them if anyone were to ever talk in negative ways about your person. You would definitely stand up for them and if you were to feel like someone is being mean to your person, you're not afraid to step in and call them out on it because you want to protect your person, just like how they want to protect you. I think your person also likes to plan the dates and take action. He's the one to make the decisions, and I think that's one thing you also really like about him. The love that both of you would share is very reciprocal, but I do see that this may be a runner and chaser kind of dynamic, maybe at the beginning of the relationship. I urge you to be careful with that because we may have past trauma that leads to us having abandonment wounds and can lead us to self-sabotage or hurting someone else’s feelings. It's not healthy to keep making someone wait or make someone chase us even though we can't help it, and we're not meaning to do it necessarily. I do think that if you were in a relationship with your person, it would be fairly healthy, and it seems to me that they would really admire you, and you would really admire them too, but we just need to get past the fears.

Ko-Fi Extended Reading: Is there a chance of this relationship coming into fruition? + Advice

If you enjoyed this reading, please consider donating to my tip jar on Ko-Fi. Any donation is greatly appreciated. 💖

Pile 3

(Nine of Cups, Wheel of Fortune, Nine of Pentacles, Strength, Ace of Cups, Four of Wands, King of Wands, Wedding Rings, & Honeymoon)

Hi pile 3, welcome to your reading! I just want to tell you all that this is the best pile of all the other ones, and while I was shuffling your cards, I was such in awe and I couldn't help but keep squealing. Like I really, really loved this reading. The energy just feels so great and I'm so happy for you guys.

So first things first, I want to point out that the wheel of fortune is at the center of your reading. This tells that if you were in a relationship with your person, you both would feel extremely lucky to be with each other. I do think there would be some differences that both of you have, whether it be a difference in culture, race, physical distance, or values, you may have uncertainty at the beginning of the relationship, but ultimately, over time your relationship just works out and you feel like everything good in your relationship that has happened is in your favor. You feel very lucky and fulfilled in your relationship with them. There would be so much love shared between the both of you, and at the same time, both of you would still live very independently but with each other. For instance, one of you may have to work and be out more, while the other person is fine being by themselves, and you both are being independent and striving for your own goals, not because you want the separation, but because you are both stable enough to trust another to be on your own, while still loving and caring for the other. At the end of the day, you know that you both have each other to find comfort in and be in love with each other. I do see that if you both were in a romantic relationship, you would go out to fancy restaurants, even if you are on a budget. I can see that from time to time, you both like to dress up and have fancy dinners and live that luxurious lifestyle. I see that you both love to travel, even if it's just to a beach that you've always been to. Your travels can range from going to the beach to another country that is luxurious. For example, maybe you go to Greece. You both don't necessarily need the luxury to be happy, but it's something that adds to your connection. Besides that, you both really love being in each other's company and it's just a lot of warmth within this connection. It feels very safe coming from both parties.

I think on your person’s side, if they were in a relationship with you, they are very capable of and they will be your protector. I sense that not only they may look like the physicality of exuding strength, but I believe that their mental capacity is very strong. They will incorporate their strength into your relationship, so any disagreements or fights that you may have, they will always be fighting for your relationship to work. I think they are very loyal and dedicated to you as well because with the strength card, it's related to Leo, and Leos are usually known for their loyalty like lions are. A note to add to this reading is that this reading contains a lot of fire, so fire signs may be very prominent here. Your person has this very dominating side to them. I can also see that they have an overflowing of love care and emotion towards you, and they aren't afraid to express their love for you in every love language. It's like this person has a balance between their masculinity and their femininity. They aren't afraid to show their feelings, and that is one of the best things that you can ask for in someone. On your end, you are also very committed and dedicated to your person because of this 4 of wands. Now, you also got the king of wands, and it really matches with the strength card, so both ends have fire signs which resembles lots of passion between you. I think you bring a lot of creativity into the relationship. For instance, you would be the type to say “Hey babe, let's try this and let's do this” and your person would say heck yes because they're just like you- They want to try out new things and they love the passion and fire within both of you. Both of you are very loyal to each other and the excitement is always there. If things do burn out, you both will always find ways to bring the spark back up. I also want to express that there is heavy sexual chemistry between the both of you. I think your person finds you very, very seductive with your energy and the way you look like, just who you are as a person. You might be the type in this relationship to dress yourself up good, make yourself look better to impress your person, not because you're insecure but because you want to feel good yourself. Your physical appearance just adds on to your attractiveness and they find you so alluring. Now, you find them very attractive too with this strength card, and with all the fire here, there's just a lot of attraction here, and I think that you guys would be very, very sexually compatible but I won't get into that because this is not an 18+ reading lol. But just know that you both will enjoy everything together, and I mean emotionally, mentally, and physically. 😉

Ko-Fi Extended Reading: Is there a chance of this relationship coming into fruition? + Advice

If you enjoyed this reading, please consider donating to my tip jar on Ko-Fi. Any donation is greatly appreciated. 💖

Pile 4

(The Hermit, The Chariot, The World, Two of Wands, The Moon, Queen of Pentacles, Page of Pentacles, Old School, & You Deserve Love)

Hi pile 4, welcome to your reading! So, if you were in a relationship with this person on your mind, I believe that this is the type of relationship where “it's not a secret, but private.” The both of you spend a lot of time alone together, and if you or they are regularly around friends or family, once you're in this relationship with them, it's like the people surrounding you don't see you as often anymore because you and your person are always occupying each other's time. I get the sense that your person might be a very shy person, or they're always alone. It's not really a bad thing, but I just wanted to note it down because it's something that keeps popping up in my head.

I do think that this is the type of person to take you to a lot of places. They are the one to drive you around places, and they like to plan their getaways and vacations if you have any. I think on your end, you like to nurture them a lot and you might teach them about the more practical things in life maybe about school or finance of some sort they learn something from your relationship out of you. I think you're more of a home body as well and you prefer to do things at home with them. Maybe you'd like to just cuddle on the couch and watch movies or play board games with them. They would like to do all those with you too because as I said, they are very into themselves and loner is not the word, but they are in solitude. This relationship that you would have with your person, it gives me youngster vibes where both of you have a lot of passion and excitement whenever you guys are around each other. There's especially a lot of excitement coming through when you both have a getaway because it feels like you guys are running away from your problem- Getting away to relax from everything else around you that you may feel is collapsing. You both are each other's safe ground. I think you may both connect through music together too. I can see both of you guys either on road trips or even at home listening to your favorite music together. Your relationship with your person would involve a lot of playfulness like playful banter and playful fighting 😉. I think both of you are very heavy on the love language of physical touch. I see here that you both love the kisses, holding, cuddling, and hugs. I believe that both of you make each other very good about yourself. A song coming through right now is “I like me better” by Lauv. That might resonate for some of you, maybe it might not, but in a sense, I feel like when you both are with each other, it makes you feel like a better version of yourself, pile 4.

Ko-Fi Extended Reading: Is there a chance of this relationship coming into fruition? + Advice

If you enjoyed this reading, please consider donating to my tip jar on Ko-Fi. Any donation is greatly appreciated. 💖

[rene-darling]

TAKING- advantage of the strongest

He's been having a hard time lately, he's lost Suguru, his one and only, of course- you on the other hand are overjoyed at that fact.

It's annoying, after all, you've done for him, he calls out his name instead of yours, it's time you taught him a permanent lesson on manners.

P.s I TOLD YOU ITS NEVER GOJOVERRR RAHHH- [credits- __3aem on insta]

Also, follow my insta r3xni3 n text me, let's talk, im bored!!

...gojo Satoru...

Seeing Gojo with his head in his hands sitting at the edge of the school stairs wasn't a new sight for you, in fact for the past week you've been seeing him sitting there.

Crying, sobbing, or simply sitting in misery. He's always thinking of that damned suguru. Honestly, it was hard to get him to show you any affection with suguru around, and now that he's gone it's gotten even harder!

It's not that you hate suguru, you just love gojo, and seeing your gojo in pain annoys you, but. It also makes for the perfect opportunity to shove yourself in his life, when he's most vulnerable and make him rely on you

"what up 'toru?" Sitting down next to him gently touching his shoulder, you can't be too forward now. "..mhm, it's nothing." Hmm, well you knew it wouldn't be that easy, of course he wouldn't open up to you just yet! So you'll just keep trying- "come on satoru, this isn't like you, you're the strongest-"

"Can you leave? I'm not in the mood y/n." Running his hands through his hair he groaned as he hid his face. You got up without a word, it's fine, if he pushes you away you have many more ways to push back harder.

The continuing weeks during classes you would always make small talk, distracting his mind from geto. Then you'd buy him sweets saying that there was some buy one get one free offer, which is why you had brought one over for him there wasn't

You occupied him on the missions he'd usually go to alone, keeping him from feeling lonely. No matter how hard they were and no matter how much strain they put your body through you'd reassure him, you're fine!

He'd notice how you'd push yourself for him, it made him- feel. Feel something other than the constant sorrow due to Geto's absence.

He started reciprocating your 'kindness'. he would let you rest your head on his lap after a stressful mission and sometimes..he'd rests his own head on yours.

Shoving yourself in his life to replace the sorrows he felt didn't only include platonic relations. Every once in a while, whenever the feelings of loss came back too harshly, all he wanted was to forget. Get lost in pleasure, in anything, just- just please make him forget.

His tears which usually stained his face due to sorrow, now stained his face due to mind-numbing pleasure, his body was yours for the destroying, just please, please make him forget. Even if just for tonight!

" 'toru, use your words now, tell me what you want, hm?" You moved your hand ever so slowly, it hurt. "Just- just please, touch me, ruin me, do whatever you want. I'm yours, yours all yours- Suguru please.

Hah- fuck. He's so lucky he's Gojo Satoru. your gojo Satoru. You can feel yourself growing numb as you let out an unhinged chuckle "Sure Satoru." You try pronouncing his name with that same softness, to replicate that tone of pure love and kindness geto had, but alas, you never truly get it right.

Still, it's close enough for him. as he whines, bucking into your hand. You have half the mind to leave him like this, writhing on the bed, but you never do. This isn't the first time, and certainly isn't the last. You're sure every single fucking time you've seen satoru he's called out his name,

But, as you gaze down at him and as he stares up at you with his pretty blue eyes which spill with tears by the second, you can't help it. Perhaps you pity him, or perhaps you simply don't care if he's using you as a means to an end, since in return, you get to be the one fucking him dumb. And not Suguru, 'cause he's dead. But that's beside the point.

Rocking his world as his vision blanks, eyes rolling back as sweat covers him. You don't mind the pain of when he bites into your shoulder, you don't mind the fact that Suguru's name slips out of him more than your (can be fake) cock

But, for some reason you just can't take it today. Something takes over you, you swear, as you grab harshly onto his neck, gasps leave his throat as he huffs for air. "Wh- Ah pl- EAse- hah."

"say my name." "Wha- AHh-" pressing your hand down harder you're sure it'll leave marks. "Y/n. Fucking say it you dumb bitch." Tears fall down from his cheeks and onto your hand but it only seems to egg you on "Ah- mhm y-y/n please?" As you let go gits of his coughs fill the air as his pink chest rises up and down for air

Suddenly he gasps once more as you push against his prostate, you're far too pleased with him saying your name to let him rest, even to catch his breath.

His cries ring in your ear as his hands scratch onto your skin, leaving deep bloody marks in their wake he stares up at you with his tear stained eyes, mumbling only your name for the rest of the night.

You hope he's learned his lesson, and if not. You wouldn't mind teaching him another one.

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 31 - Proposal - Heartslabyul

Characters included: Riddle Rosehearts, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade

Word count: 2993

Riddle

Who proposes: Riddle

Riddle likes for everything to be perfect. Even after his overblot, that’s one thing he couldn’t shake off. 

This includes your relationship. He would never try and force you to be perfect, but he wants your relationship to be. He wants to be the perfect partner, the perfect gentleman. 

It takes him forever to propose, for better or worse. Riddle is definitely the kind of person to date for a super long time before even considering marriage. 

He wants to marry you, of course, but that’s a big commitment, and he has a lot he’d like to work out before he fully commits himself to you like that. It’s actually very mature of him. 

When he does propose, it’s after several years of courtship and dating. Everything is planned out perfectly and to his liking. 

Riddle decided to propose to you at a local park. There’s a lovely hidden clearing with a gazebo surrounded by rose bushes. It’s the perfect spot for a picnic date. 

The date is going so well. It’s a sunny day, there’s no other people around to disturb you, and you’re having an amazing time. 

Riddle is obviously nervous, and you can probably guess what’s going to happen. It’s cute watching him squirm as he waits for the perfect moment. 

Then, it happens. He stands up and moves to your side. He kneels down, and you wait eagerly in anticipation. He’s just about to speak…

And then thunder sounds throughout the park. Suddenly, rain is pouring everywhere. Luckily, the two of you are protected by the gazebo, but there’s no getting out anytime soon. 

Riddle looks between a mixture of annoyed and dejected. All of that planning, and he forgot to check the weather. Of course this would happen to him. 

And yet, you’re smiling. It’s the most perfect smile he’s ever seen, and even through his annoyance, he can’t help but melt at the sight of it. 

You look at him, urging him to finish what he was doing. He stares for a moment, slightly baffled that you seem so unbothered, but he continues on at your reassurance. 

He gives his perfectly prepared speech, and the smile never leaves your face. You say yes, of course, and he slips the ring on your finger. 

You then pull him off of his knees, pulling him into a tight hug. He’s shocked for a moment, but is quick to reciprocate. 

You’ve always been his rock, the calm to his storm. When his mind is racing about every little detail, you’re the one to pull him back, allowing him to see the pretty picture. 

Sure, it may have rained, but the day was still good, and you helped him see that. 

Your wedding is pretty much the two of you eloping. Riddle was hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed. You let your closest friends and family know, but made sure not to tell his parents for fear they might try and stop you. Of course, you let them know after the fact, and they were very displeased. Not that either of you cared. 

Trey

Who proposes: you

Trey is a very simple man. He always planned on getting married at some point. He never had much of a timeframe of when exactly it would happen, but he knew it would eventually. 

He also assumed that he’d be the one to propose. It’s not like he’s super into gender roles or anything; it’s more like he’s always been the one to take the lead, always caring for others above himself. He just kind of assumed it’d be the same in a relationship as well. 

However, he was very, very wrong about all of that. 

You’re nothing like he expected when he pictured his ideal relationship. You actively take care of him instead of it being the other way around. In school, you helped him wrangle his unruly dorm members, you help out with his siblings when he’s babysitting, and you even help out around the bakery. 

From the moment you began dating, you’ve been a major support for him, which he never really expected. He absolutely loves it more than anything. 

Still, as your relationship continues on, he still assumes that he’ll be the one to propose. He loves you and wants to marry you more than anything, so why wouldn’t he? 

And yet, you still manage to find ways to surprise him. 

It’s early in the morning, just as domestic as any other day. You let Trey sleep in, sneaking to the kitchen while he was still asleep. You do your best to be quiet as you scurry around the kitchen, preparing him breakfast. 

When he wakes up, you’re not in bed, which is a bit strange. He usually wakes up first, or you wake up at the same time, so it’s weird to not see you. 

Then, right as he’s about to get up to look for you, you come in, smiling as you show him the breakfast you worked so hard on. He stares for a second in shock before looking up to you, smiling that adorable, love-sick smile he dawns every time he sees you. 

Trey asks if today is some sort of special day, to which you immediately bow off the question, telling him you just want to spoil him today. He’s tempted to tell you that you spoil him everyday, but he decides against it. Instead he thanks you for the breakfast, digging in once you place it in front of him. 

Once he’s finished eating, you take the platter the food was on and place it on the bedside table. Then, you tell him to close his eyes because you have one more surprise for him. He smiles before complying. He’s already guessed what’s coming, but he’s willing to play along with your antics. 

When you tell him to open again, you’re holding a box with a ring inside, and even though he guessed this was coming, his breath is still taken away. He takes a moment, glancing between you and the ring as if making sure you’re serious. 

You give your small speech, asking him if he wants to marry you. He says yes, of course, and you put the ring on his finger. 

Later that day, you call his family and show them the ring over video call, and they’re so happy for both of you.m

There will always be a small part of him that feels bad for how much you take care of him. After all, he’s supposed to be the caring, supportive type. And yet, how can those thoughts eat away at him when you smile at him so sweetly as he shows his parents the ring? You’re happy, and so he’s happy. 

Your wedding is a small gathering of close friends and family. It’s a cute little ceremony with a nice reception. The cake was, naturally, made by his parents. Trey is tempted to let you plan the whole thing, wanting it to be your perfect day. He may be doing better, but those people-pleasing tendencies don’t go away that easily. But, you are able to get him to put his own input in, supporting him like you always do. 

Cater

Who proposes: Cater

Cater has commitment issues. It took so long for him to start dating you because he was always scared of you leaving once you saw the real him. Even as your relationship progressed, he still often had thoughts about you leaving, and there were several times he almost considered breaking up with you because of it. 

But you persisted, sticking with him and constantly assuring him that you’d never leave him. As he continued through life and gained more experience, he even started believing it. 

Still, the idea of marriage is scary, even after all that development. It’s literally the biggest commitment you can make to someone, and while he loves you more than anyone ever, it’s still a terrifying thought.

But still, it’s a thought he can’t seem to get out of his head. Like most things Cater does, he buys you a ring on a whim, not even really thinking about it much. It’s only after the purchase is made does he start to question himself. Sure, you love him, but would you want to marry him? 

He holds onto the ring, keeping it in a safe spot he knows you won’t find. It’s not like he’d be able to explain himself if you did. How could he when he’s not even sure what he’s thinking? 

One day, he sits alone in your shared bedroom, holding the ring box in his hands. He’s been holding onto it for a few weeks now, and yet he still hasn’t found the courage to give it to you. At this point, he’s contemplating just returning it. 

Then you walk into the room without warning. He didn’t even hear you come in, and he’s startled when you ask him what he’s holding. 

Cater is quick to hide the box behind him, telling you that it’s nothing to worry about. You’re not satisfied with that,a nod you walk closer to him, standing in front of him. You look him in the eyes, asking him to tell you the truth. 

He’s so tempted to lie. Even if you know he’s lying, he knows you won’t push it if he’s not willing to share. You’re always considerate like that, and it’s just one of many reasons why he loves you. 

But, he knows you deserve the truth, and so, with a heavy sigh, he pulls the box from behind him, opening it up to show you the ring. As you stand there in shock, he’s quick to begin rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse about why he bought the ring and why he hasn’t given it to you yet. 

He only stops when you place your hands over his and the box, gently pushing them down as you lean in just a bit closer. You give him that smile you always give him when you’re trying to comfort him. It normally has him melting, but he’s far too on edge right now. 

You assure him that it’s okay if he’s not ready for something this big. You know how he is, and the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. If he’s not ready for marriage, then neither are you. You want both of you to be happy. 

And that finally manages to calm him down. Somehow, that was exactly what he needed. He holds up the box again, telling you that he is ready. He wants to marry you. 

After making sure he’s not just doing it for you, you agree, and he puts the ring on your finger. That night, the two of you stay up late, just talking and existing with each other. This is a big step, and there’s so much to talk about. As long as it’s with you, Cater is sure he doesn’t mind. 

Your wedding is basically nonexistent. At first, Cater was convinced he wanted a grand, Magicam-able wedding, but you were quick to shoot that down. You know him better than he knows himself, and you’re right once again. A wedding that grand would only stress him out. Instead, the two of you simply show up to the courthouse and sign the papers, but he does convince you to dress up to the nines anyway. 

Ace

Who proposes: Ace

This piece of shit (affectionate). 

Since the moment you began dating, he’s been absolutely unbearable in the best way. 

Ace has always been quite the jokester, and that does not stop just because you’re dating him. If anything, it gets so much worse.

He’s never done anything mean or harmful. It’s all just silly little jokes meant to make you laugh. Most of them do, but sometimes he’s just weird. You still love him anyway.

One of his favorite jokes is the classic fake proposal. It started in high school before you even began dating. 

In the middle of the cafeteria, he got down on one knee in front of you, holding a RingPop, asking for your hand in marriage. You jokingly said yes, and it’s been an ongoing joke ever since. About once a year at random times, he’ll get down on one knee with a RingPop and “propose” to you.

To most, this joke would get old fast, but you’ve never gotten tired of it. It’s his way of expressing his love for you, and you think it’s cute. Plus, you get candy out of it, so it’s a win-win all around.

You really should have seen this coming from a mile away.

It’s insanely obvious when Ace is planning something. You assume it’s yet another prank, as he always gets like this when he’s attempting to surprise you.

It happens during dinner with him. Ace gets up, very obviously holding a ring box. You prepare yourself for the same joke, ready to give the same acceptance speech you give him every time.

However, all words fail you when he kneels down and opens the box. It’s a real ring. Not some shitty candy ring, but an actual, expensive-looking ring. Your eyes are wide with shock, and you can’t look away from the ring.

Ace is smirking, clearly proud of his long-con. He knew this would work since the moment he first played this joke, and now it’s all paying off.

Eventually, you’re able to pull yourself together, and you ask him if he’s for real. He confirms that, yes, he is for real this time, and he does actually want to marry you. Naturally, you say yes, and he puts the ring on your finger.

As one last joke, he does pull out a (still-wrapped) RingPop from his pocket, handing that to you as well. You laugh, accepting the treat.

Your wedding is fairly standard as far as weddings go. Family and friends alike gather at your ceremony, and it’s a wild and fun party. Ace is still the clown he was in school, and that side of him really shows during the reception. It’s an amazing night. Of course, you hand out RingPops as party favors, much to the annoyance/amusement of everyone else attending. 

Deuce

Who proposes: Deuce

Deuce never really thought about marriage much growing up. It’s not like he didn’t want to get married; he just never had the time to think about it. In middle school, he was more focused on his gang, and in high school, he was too focused on being an honor student. 

Even while dating you, marriage wasn’t something that crossed his mind until recently. It was actually his mother who brought it to the forefront of his mind during a solo visit back home. 

She brought it up in a joking way, asking if he’s finally popped the question to you yet. However, Deuce is nothing if not oblivious to most jokes, and it flies right over his head. Instead, he ends up panicking because he never even thought about proposing to you. He had no clue how you felt, or if you were waiting for him to propose. 

His mom turns from joking to comforting quickly after that. She reassures him that she was only kidding, and that she’s sure you’re not upset with him for not proposing yet. That seems to calm him down for the most part. 

It does keep him up that night though. Now that it’s been brought to his attention, it’s all he can think about. Deuce has been so happy to just be with you. He never once thought he’d be this happy, especially as a kid. You’ve brought so much joy to his life, and he’s so lucky to have you. 

He’s content like this, having you simply be with him. However, he can’t help but yearn for more now that he knows it’s a possibility. What would you think about marrying him? You love him, obviously, but is marriage something you want? It’s not something the two of you discussed at length, but it’s not like he can just outright ask without making you suspicious. 

The next day, Deuce goes out to the market with his mom. While there, he spots a stand selling jewelry. He spots the most gorgeous ring he's ever seen, and if that’s not a sign from the universe, he’s not exactly sure what else it could be. He buys the ring immediately, much to the happiness of his mom. 

When he returns home, he’s greeted by you, and he’s practically sweating bullets. You can tell that something is up, and you ask him if everything is okay. He takes that moment to pop the question, deciding it better to do it rather than let himself wallow in worry. 

He kneels down on one knee, taking the ring box out of his pocket. He stutters his way through his proposal, opening the box to reveal the ring to you. You haven’t seen him this nervous since he asked you out all those years ago, and it’s adorable that, despite how much he’s grown over the years, some things just never change. 

You, of course, say yes, kneeling down in front of him and pulling him into a hug. Deuce sits in stunned silence as he processes your words, but when his brain catches up, he’s absolutely delighted. He puts the ring on your finger, and he immediately calls his mom to give her the news. 

Your wedding is small, but nice. It takes place in his hometown since he knows a lot of people there, and they’re all very happy for him. A bunch of other friends and family attend as well, and it’s a beautiful ceremony. He cries during the vows, and he cries even harder at his mother’s speech during the reception. It’s absolutely adorable.

[crustyfloor]

SUA LORE (I'm going to die one of these days fuck)

When Sua was younger, among all the sisters she had grown up with, she had one older sister, but seemingly, unlike their other sisters, that woman didn't treat Sua with hostility, in fact, she looked like she doted on Sua and looked out for her.

Translation (Creds to: @/greenbean1467 on yt in the comments section):

1/2 ?: You should take care of your hair. (Woah, careful) ?: So immature… 2/2 ?: Alright, it can’t be helped. Sua has to be punished! Tickle tickle! [ At that time, you were my only person, and for that reason, you also made me afraid. ]

"You were my only person, and for that reason, you also made me afraid" Is just...All her life, Sua had been an isolated individual, by choice, and because she had been shunned by her family, avoided due to her cold nature, and during those times she's only had two people to who she could really show herself too, this woman and Mizi, this woman being the only person Sua had in her life I can only imagine how afraid Sua was of losing her sister, and just how much her sister terrified her at times.

1/2 SUA: Mhm, so mother said, it’ll be time to leave after ten more nights. And mother seems happy, and I too… SUA: And that pink-haired kid could be there too, so… ?: Didn’t I tell you it’s uncouth to wiggle your toes like that? 2/2 SUA: Oh… I won’t then. ?: Ugh, so cute! ?: But you know, big sis is worried. ?: Worried that our immature little Sua could just up and die in that hellish place.

This woman and Sua look to be close; they are affectionate, and Sua almost seems to look up to this woman as if a sister figure, but the detail here I'm interested in is how worried this woman is about Sua and her remarks about Sua, she cares about Sua. Still, it shows that she looks down on Sua to some degree, whether this be in a teasing tone or not, I'm unsure. But there's an obvious obsessive fixation on Sua's innocence. And even in this relationship, cruelty was reinforced as a means to an end.

1/2 ?: You’re already so stupid, what if you just up and die in that place? ?: You poor thing, Sua. [They say that corpses fall from the sky in that place. When a weak kid like Sua just up and dies, They burn those kids in a hot, hot fire, And then they open the sky lid to sprinkle them over the living kids Like snow raining down. ] 2/3 ?: Even if it's not, I'm not smart, but I've gone so far ?: Pick--If you die. What should I do? ?: It's so cute Sua.

Growing up under the same guardian, Nigeh, who valued quality and beauty in her pets, it becomes obvious why Sua's sister was criticizing her appearance. She'd grown up hearing the same criticisms from the harsh and cold Nigeh who didn't care for their pets beyond their value, and what all they could bring to the plate, I could imagine just what kinds of things Nigeh would say to a pet human with "abnormalities".

Sua, however, was the perfect pet human, she was pretty, obedient, and acted obediently for Nigeh as a manicured doll to meet their expectations. She was attached to Nigeh like a daughter to a mother, looking to their validation to feel as if she was more valuable than she truly was even though the love wasn't reciprocated. For these reasons, she was treated differently from her other sisters, of course, there would be a level of envy and projection from Sua's sister.

Sua's sister is shown to be anxious about Sua, she seems to have been attached to her in the way a hurt child needs a security blanket to rest at night, Sua is so childish, naive, and stupid, it is reassuring to her sister to have someone to care for, as if there was still hope in this world, so without Sua, her sister's worries wouldn't be soothed, her sister was so scared that she even threatened Sua with fear, expressing how frightening and horrific this environment would be (Like, "Pick, if you die" I read it as "If I lose you, what should I do?)

In this way, Sua seems to parallel mirror woman because Sua had this same dependency on Mizi, again, in the way a hurt, lonely, scared child needs a security blanket to rest at night, Sua wanted Mizi to remain naive and stupid, willingly kept her in the dark so that Sua could feel a sense of peace and security through her, her sister was the same way with Sua, she wanted to keep Sua from the hell she would be subjected to very, very soon, but in the end, telling Sua ugly truths, about the snow, and all, had to have been fueled by bitter feelings, to rid Sua of that type of innocence, could have been any kind of love, perhaps in a twisted way she wanted to protect Sua.

She obviously had to have been mentally unstable (understandably) to say these kinds of things to a child, no less, the way she stares at Sua like she's desperate and broken, really, it's not loving, it's just desperate and cruel. Really, the fact that Alien stage can bring a person to this kind of insanity is a horrifying concept. Still, I believe she was trying to teach a lesson to Sua at this time in her life when she was growing up, making attachments and being susceptible to impressions, it was purposely harsh to frighten her, to project her fears onto Sua, and those words from her sister stuck with Sua for the rest of her life.

From that day on, all Sua could think about was death, all she could do was worry and worry until she met Mizi again.

Meeting Mizi, in all her optimism and bright smiles, was like a healing balm on Sua's wounds, or in other words, her "Cure" .

1/2 SUA: Big sister, your words then made me, as young as I was, all the more afraid. I imagined “just up and dying” so many times, even more than before… 2/2 SUA: But if I meet you again, I want to tell you this. That you were wrong. The one to be pitied was probably you.

1/2 SUA: If this is hell… 2/2 MIZI: Found you! You're that snow doll!

Interestingly enough, Mizi calling Sua a "snow doll" may be a foreshadowing of Sua's death, as now it's semi-confirmed that dead children are cremated and sprinkled down onto the Anakt children's faces, but they only think it's snow. (THAT IS JUST FUCKING SICK. someone kill me)

And a parallel to the MIZISUA video, their first meeting. (The nickname is just--telling of how Sua is perceived, as a little dressed-up doll.)

(And that fact just gives this piece a wholeeee darker meaning. of course. It somewhat disproves the theory that the dead are instead fed to the Wagyein, but I don't know which is worse. Then again Sua's sister could've been going off on a psychotic rant, so I'm not taking it too seriously. It's a weird coincidence though)

1/2 SUA: Where else could you find such a paradise so wonderful? 2/2 SUA: So you're wrong.

(Some nuance may be lost in translation. I died)

So this comic, like Ivan's comic after ROUND 6, Cure, Heavenly Garden, was Sua's reminiscing during her final moments, and her only thoughts were the words of her sister, her face, haunting as it was, and Mizi, her universe.

Sua's sister pitied her for her inevitable fate, she had known the life of being a pet-human, used, abused, and hurt, she feared death and still had her instincts intact. Knowing Sua would go through the same cycle and then meet a terrible fate on that hellish stage...tasted bitter. It was frightening, but it was one small liberty for Sua to make it something of her own.

But for Sua, it was far from hell. Sua's sister references Anakt garden and Alien stage as a whole as hell because it's a one-way ticket to your demise, there is no true life once you're in, that's why it's so frightening, but being found by Mizi in that garden--Mizi was wonderful, Mizi made Sua feel like a child, to feel warm in her bright, gentle light, feeling the tranquility of feeling freed and loved in the comfort of Mizi's gentle song, Sua didn't want to be pitied, she didn't even regret making it this far, she didn't care about death as long as she wasn't without Mizi, Because to be able to be with her, and sing with her...everything was all worth it to meet Mizi. For Sua, there is no fate more miserable than living a life without Mizi and dying that way. Living a life of loneliness and anxiety was pitiful.

Side note, the title of this comic, Heavenly Garden, maybe a religious reference and, more specifically, a reference to the Garden of Eden. The themes here that connect to "Return to the Great Anakt", all children, in ashes and all will eventually return to the great Anakt, it gives me the idea that after Sua's death, her "Heaven", was returning to Anakt Garden and returning to her paradise, Mizi.

[catboyieejeno]

because even then, i knew — l.sm { 1 }

You have (1) new voicemail from: seokmin <3 

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:58

“Hey. I know we haven’t talked in a while but… I wanted you to know that I miss you, and I miss us. And… I’m in love with you, if that means anything to you now.”

✰ genre: non idol! seokmin x reader, stanger to lovers / kdrama au

✰ cw: female reader, petnames, cursing, seokmin is desperately down bad, slowburn, pining, so much fluff, mentions of alcohol, consuming alcohol, nsfw, mentions of cheating, angst

✰ wc: 21k

✰ tracklist: {spotify} {apple music}

✰ navigation: {one} {two}

✰ note: this story is my absolute baby. i stared writing it one day with no plot in mind, and ended up with 45k. it's supposed to feel like a kdrama as you read it (and i mean this in every sense of the word—you will see), so please listen to the tracklist as you scroll. the songs are carefully timed in order to play as you read certain parts, but if you're not sure you're listening to the right song, part two will tell you where you should be and you will resync.

please love this story, it was written with an unbelievable amount of care, detail, and intention.

≡;- ꒰ ° one ꒱

Love at first sight is undoubtedly the biggest fabrication that the media and modern culture has ever tried to push on society. It only happens in the movies, and even then, it’s barely done right. There is no such thing as happy endings, because that’s not how things are in the real world. 

Make no mistake; Lee Seokmin is not a pessimist, nor is he a bitter person. He’s the kind of guy who helps old people cross the street during rush hour, or helps kids pluck their balloons out of trees so they won’t cry. He actually does like long walks on the beach, as a matter of fact, and he happens to be a casual enjoyer of rom-coms, something his other male friends would rather die than admit to. 

Once upon a time, he used to be a hopeless romantic, but that rug was pulled out from under him on a few too many occasions, and while he’s still a positive, amicable guy, he had learned that sometimes, things were too good to be true. 

For example: when he was 7, he fell in love.

His 20 year old babysitter, who his parents had hired to watch over him on evenings while they were at work, was absolutely perfect—he knew from the moment he met her, she would be the girl he’d marry. 

She was Korean, and a freshman in college with a major in business management. Every week, she would walk hand-in-hand with him to the corner store to buy him sausage sticks and sticky tteokbokki at the food cart with the money she could spare from her part time job as a tutor, since his parents would only leave money for emergencies. In return for her generosity, he’d sit still and play while she finished her homework, and occasionally, Seokmin would even pick flowers from his mom’s garden for her. This earned him a few scoldings, but that didn’t matter to him, because she was, and would always be worth it. 

Until one day, where he had promised to behave while she finished a practice test. Poor, unsuspecting, seven-almost-eight-year-old Seokmin with his cheeks stuffed full of sausage and rice cake, overheard her calling another boy (albeit a boy her age who could actually reciprocate her affection) a sweet name over the phone. He dropped everything and stomped over to her, bursting into tears and rambling on about how she broke his heart. She was fired the very same evening as a consequence of his tantrum. 

When he was 14, he fell in love again. And this time, it had to be love… right? 

A family of foreigners had moved in across the street, and their daughter, who was the same age as him this time around, would come over to study with him after school and on the weekends. She’d teach him English, and he’d teach her Korean. She was his first kiss and his first girlfriend—they lasted a reputable two months—until they moved back overseas. Apparently, her parents had only moved there for the summer as part of a work-related trip, and when they said goodbye and promised to write, little Grace revealed she didn’t want a committed, long-distance relationship at the ripe age of fourteen.

In retrospect… maybe she was right, but Seokmin would never forget the way his heart shattered. 

The only real, long-term girlfriend he’s had was a little over two years ago. They dated for over a year, she met his parents and he met her’s, the two of them even exchanged promise rings. At the time, he would gush to his friends about how he’d never met anyone as funny and brilliant as her, and how lucky he feels to have done so. 

Then, the week before his birthday, Seokmin found out she had been sleeping with her best friend for months. 

Love at first sight—true love—It was a flat out lie, and he refused to fall for its charm ever again. 

So why, he thinks to himself, why can’t he stop looking at you? 

He noticed you for the first time last week after his car had been totaled during an impromptu road trip the day prior. Soonyoung, one of his best friends, had gotten on the subway while drinking and somehow ended up eight stops away from his apartment at an ungodly hour in his wasted state. Seokmin was the only one that answered the phone. He picked him up, but on the way back, Soonyoung tried to crawl out the window of the passenger seat and Seokmin, whilst trying to pull him back inside, had crashed into a tree.

The car was old, and he was saving up for a new one anyway. That, and the insurance gave him some chump change for the wreckage, which was more than he’d thought he’d get, so it wasn’t too bad. The biggest inconvenience he faced now was getting to and from work. 

Every night, after his shift at the flower shop, Seokmin would take the bus transit home. The first night, he only saw you in passing, because he practically had to run after the bus to catch it after arriving late to the stop. He took the first seat he could find, panting and exhausted after his long shift and the blip of a marathon he just ran, and sunk down into it. 

Since he had never needed to take the bus until now, he spent some time glancing out the window and studying the route, discovering the stop near his apartment was the very last one, arriving at nearly 10:00 P.M. Yours was the second to last one, only a few blocks over. That evening, he only barely caught a glimpse of the side of your face as you climbed off, crossing the street and strolling out of sight with way too many things clutched within your jacketed arms. 

The following night, he made it to the bus on time, thankfully, and spotted you sitting near the back, though that didn’t mean much to him yet. He took his same seat near the front, despite the many empty spots throughout the vehicle. And just like before, at the second to last stop, you walked down the middle aisle to exit. 

This time, while wrestling your books, laptop case, walkman, and coat, your headset wire had snagged on the seat in front of him. He watched as you turned around and detangled it hurriedly, your gaze barely flickering up to meet his curious one for a split second. You flashed him a ghost of a smile and then, you were gone again. 

Seokmin found himself looking forward to seeing you every single night from then on. 

He decided to start sitting in the back of the bus too, blaming his avid interest in you purely on the distorted conclusion that it made no sense to sit in the front! He was always the last one aboard, and the back had so many more seats for him to get comfortable. 

That’s what he convinced himself of, at least for the first few days. He tried sitting in a couple different spots, though he wouldn’t dare sit too close to you—he’s not that bold.  He did, however, decide after his trial and error period that his favorite seat was the far left one on the last row. Your seat was forever unchanging, on the second to last row and all the way to the right. 

This way, he could watch over your shoulder as you typed away on your computer. You seemed to be writing something personal, because night after night, you’d create paragraph after paragraph, working tirelessly to craft whatever it was that you were working on so extensively. He figured it couldn’t be just any assignment or work-related exposition. This meant something to you, and that only spiked his curiosity more. The only pause in your routine of clicking away at keys was skipping a song or two on your walkman or glancing out the window for inspiration.

He’s never sat close enough to actually read the words on your screen, but then again, that might be overstepping a bit. The urge does frequently bug him, though, especially when he notices how immersed you become the moment you lift the screen of your laptop and open your document. Every night, he watches you do the same thing, and every night, he fights the urge to strain his neck and catch a glimpse of a single word on your screen. 

He contains himself, though, on the principle that eavesdropping is wrong, and he intends to never do you wrong. 

On the sixth night he spends in his new seat, he notices about twenty minutes in when your fingers stop clicking away. At first, he considers the possibility that you may be thinking or planning your next sentence. But, as the bus nears your stop, you don’t move to start picking up your things. It immediately alerts him, and he sits up straighter as he realizes, you’ve fallen asleep. 

He’s never given something so simple so much thought in such a short time. He can feel the bus slowing down, and he can hear the brakes screeching and wheezing. Would he feel worse for disturbing your rest and making an inevitably awkward first impression, or letting you continue to sleep and possibly (definitely) miss your stop? 

Certainly the latter.

Without a second thought, Seokmin hurriedly slides out of his aisle and climbs down the two steps of the back row to reach you at your seat, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and giving it a light shake. You don’t budge, even when he calls out to you. 

“Excuse me, Miss. Miss?” 

As the bus comes to a full stop and the engine’s roar becomes suppressed, he can hear the music playing through the headset that sits still over your ears. With a grimace, he softly slips them off, and the action is enough to stir you awake. You blink in confusion as you adjust to the brightness of the lights inside the bus, and your eyes land on his widened ones. 

“Sorry for waking you, but,” he gestures outside, “this is your stop.” 

You look around to confirm, and upon seeing the familiar intersection and corner store, you realize what he’s saying is true.

A few things go through your head: First of all, the stranger in front of you has the kindest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Secondly, his nose is absolutely huge, and for some reason, he knows your stop, which makes you wonder where else he’s capable of poking it. So naturally, you ignore the sweet charm behind his eyes and shrug off his arm, grabbing your things quickly and booking it for the door that the bus driver has to reopen when he sees you approaching. 

You climb off and consider taking a different route, but if he knows your stop, he likely knows which way you walk every single night. You curse at yourself for even falling asleep in the first place, then drag your feet along towards your apartment after accommodating your headphones back over your ears, your walkman clutched in hand, its music swirling in your ears once more.

Because of this, you miss the way Seokmin shouts after you for leaving your phone behind, and the way the bus driver then shouts at him for holding him up. 

“I’ve got a wife to get home to, kid. Get back on the bus or I’m leaving you here.” 

He looks between the device in his hand, you, and back at the burly bus driver who raises a threatening brow his way. 

In defeat, he gets back on board and walks down until he’s reached his seat, but not before stopping at yours, or rather stumbling there with how aggressively the driver steps on the gas and sends him flying. He does a quick once over your seat to make sure you haven’t left or dropped anything else, but your phone is the only thing you forgot in your rush. 

The drive to his street is rather short, and when he does some calculations on the maps app, he discovers it’s at most a half-hour walk from his place to yours. That revelation makes him regretful, because as he dismounts the bus, crosses the street, and climbs the flight of stairs to his apartment, he realizes he could’ve run after you and given you your phone and just walked home after. It would’ve allowed him to explain that he’s not a creep, and that he only knows your stop because you’re the only other person on the bus at that hour. 

He thinks about his encounter with you the whole way to his apartment, and even at home while he takes his shower and brushes his teeth. And still, when he plugs your dead phone in, so that he can give it to you fully charged the next day. As it comes to life, half a dozen messages come in with a series of ‘dings’ from a contact you have saved as just a heart. He can’t read what the messages say because of the privacy settings you have in place, so he just silences it as more messages come in. He would have tried to let them know your phone isn’t with you, but the person with the heart alias never tries to call, and so there’s nothing Seokmin can do about it but hope tomorrow comes quickly. 

That thought brings him back to you, and as he lies down, he finds himself tossing and turning in bed, unable to fall asleep because he’s mulling over the way you shrugged him off. It’s only the long day at work, where he spent eight hours on his feet watering ficuses and making arrangements with daisies and lilies, that manages to silence his brain and lull his eyelids to a close so he can get some rest. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

His shift at the floral shop had gone by painfully slow today. The hours that usually pass relatively quickly with the friendly faces of Korean grandmas that stop by after going to the market, have dragged on for an eternity. 

He reminds himself that he’s going to see you tonight and that thought gets him through the day. He’ll at last be able to redeem himself of the interaction that’s been haunting him for the last twelve hours. He even dreamt about you, specifically about the conversation going a completely different way than it did. 

“Sorry for waking you, but this is your stop.” 

“Oh, my god,” you said. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize I drifted off.”

“No worries,” Seokmin would flash you a smile and help you with your things, since he had noticed your tendency to travel with more than you could carry. “Here.”

“Thanks again, uh…”

“Seokmin.”

“Seokmin,” you’d repeat, and even in his dream, he had reeled over the way his name rolled off your tongue.

In an extra effort to mend things over with you, Seokmin dips into his weekly paycheck at the end of his shift to buy you a tote bag from the shop. That way, you’d have a place to pack your laptop when you weren’t typing up stories, and your coat that you insisted on draping over your arm? It could go in there, too! 

Why you chose to listen to music on a walkman in today’s modern age, he has no idea—but now you’d have a place to store it so you won’t leave it behind like you had your phone. 

The tote bag he picks out for you is the nicest, most sizable one in stock. It’s the first time he’s bought anything from the floral shop, so the measly ten percent employee discount he got was rather underwhelming. Still, it would be worth it. He’d hand you your phone, explain himself to clear up the previous night's confusion, and offer you the tote bag as a gift. 

When he climbs on the bus later that evening, you’re sitting in the same spot as always, except this time, you’re expecting him. Your eyes flash up at him then fall back to your laptop. Subsequently, you slump further down in your seat, and Seokmin quickly realizes you’re trying to avoid him. 

Now—he had talked himself through the plan of approaching you all day, it’s all he thought about during the less busy hours of his shift to pass the time. He had walked through the process once, twice, and then again in hopes of nailing down every detail, but he didn’t once account for your very obvious disinterest. 

It offsets his mood entirely, which was confident and sociable just moments ago, and he trails down the aisle, past your seat, and to his own instead with discouragement. 

The moment he sits, it’s as if someone winded up his leg: it starts restlessly bouncing, and his mind mirrors the action, his inner monologue providing no relief for his grief. 

If he was any other rational person, he would’ve taken your coldness with a grain of salt; he’d hand you your phone, say “you left this.” and go on about his day—no, his life, as if this moment, as if meeting you, was nothing more than an insignificant scene in the story of his life. He wouldn’t spend every hour overthinking your first impression of him, or feeling disappointed that it wasn’t what he wanted it to be. And he certainly wouldn’t be here, talking himself up to the task of walking over to you once more. 

Even his own forgiving conscience is embarrassed when he readies himself to stand, chanting “Ok. 3…2…” and then sits back down in defeat. 

This goes on for the better part of an hour, until Seokmin remembers you’d be getting off soon. This realization materializes as the last person besides the two of you gets off, and the familiar buildings that are just a few blocks away from your stop come into view. At the same time, a new string of messages come in from the same individual who was writing to you last night, and Seokmin decides it’s about time that he returns your phone to you—for real this time. 

With a nod to himself, he pushes off the chair with his legs and forces them to move him over to you, where he stands for a few seconds, waiting for you to notice him. In one hand, he’s holding out your phone, and under his other arm is the folded tote bag he’s planning to give you. He can’t get his tongue to comply, making his feet work was hard enough, so hovers over you a little longer until you practically feel his eyes on you and look up. 

“Hi–” 

You slide your headphones off one ear, and he clears his throat. 

“Hi.” He repeats, “My name is Seokmin. I’m the guy who woke you up last night.” 

“I know.” You cast your eyes down to your phone and he leans it closer to you.

“You left your phone here.” 

Your lips purse contemplatively as you take it, mumbling out a quick “thanks,” and unlocking it to inspect your pile of notifications. Seokmin only clears his throat again.

“I also wanted to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo, It’s just–”

You seem to lose focus of what he’s saying as you read through the messages on your phone, a deep frown molding over your features. The fact that you’re not listening at all trips him up, especially when he’s trying so hard to recite the mental script he prepared for this very moment. 

“Uh, I just… The only reason I know your stop is because it’s only you and me on the bus this late. So, you know–” 

As he points this out, you perk your head up and look around, as if to check for yourself that this is, in fact, true. It doesn’t ease your apprehension about him, but his kind eyes look so desperate in their plea for your understanding that, for a fleeting instant, you manage to hone in on his explanation and dismiss your suspicions about his nosy tendencies. 

“Naturally, I just noticed, and I didn’t want you to miss your stop.”

When you nod once and say “ok,” he almost wishes you hadn’t said anything at all. That’s it? That’s all you have to say to ease his discomfort? 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he didn’t almost forget, he just wanted to sound nonchalant, “I got you this since you’re always–” 

“Well, Seokmin…” It’s even better than in his dream, hearing you say his name, “You should know better than me by now that,” you point outside and the bus reaches a halt, “this is my stop.” 

Hurry up, Seokmin. “I got you this bag for your things.” 

You take it from his outstretched hands with the smallest mutter of gratitude, but don’t bother to inspect it or put it to use. You simply pile it atop of your laptop and coat with pursed lips, not sparing it a second glance. He’s almost confused about why you’re still staring him down expectantly after that, until it becomes clear to him that he’s blocking the aisle and in turn, your exit. 

Somewhat awkwardly, Seokmin moves aside, and you waste no time in passing right by him and heading for the door with all your trinkets stacked up in your arms. 

Dejection is an appropriate word to describe how Seokmin feels right about now. So is frustration. 

Even after you leave, cross in front of the bus, and make your way home, Seokmin stands in the same spot, dumbfounded. He stays like this for a few seconds, even when the bus moves and messes with his balance. It’s not until his annoyance really settles in, nestling in his bones and making his face glow red, that he manages to stomp back over to his spot and plop down. 

You are easily the most irritating person he has ever met; ill-mannered, ungrateful, rude, and downright selfish. Seokmin stopped going to therapy months after he recovered from his ex, but he finds himself regressing in the ‘self-recognition’ area at this moment. Although he can consciously acknowledge that his anger stems from your interaction not going as he wanted it to, he still decides to dump the blame on you and call you all these names in his head. Why he so desperately wants to be liked by you, he doesn’t know. Why he’s irrationally spiraling in the absence of your approval, he also doesn’t know. 

What he does know is that the next twenty-four hours are going to be just as bad as the last, and he’s going to be kicking himself until he sees you again and gives you a piece of his mind. 

Tonight, he rolls around in bed longer than usual, until the clock strikes two and he can’t keep his eyes open any longer.

The next day, when Seokmin boards the bus, you’re nowhere to be seen. You’re not at your seat, nor anywhere else for that matter, which he decides is for the best, because he’s able to swallow down his explosive complaints for another day instead of possibly causing a scene on the bus. 

Ha! You’re lucky you didn’t get on tonight, he thinks, I'll spare you from my lecture for another evening. 

Except the following night, you aren’t there either. 

As it turns out, you aren’t on the bus for the next six days straight. 

And instead of recovering from his emotions like a normal person, Seokmin is only spurred on, tormented and pursued by his thoughts of you. They've shifted, because now he can only help but wonder what you’re up to. He’s back to square one, wondering if he weirded you out so much that you resorted to finding another means of transportation with the sole intention of avoiding him. 

Then, he reproaches himself, his rationale telling him that surely, there must be another reason for your absence—one that isn’t at all related to him. He ponders this as he piles a few stems of lilies and eucalyptus on one another, wrapping them and tying them closed. 

“Seokmin-ah. What’s the matter?”

He turns quickly to face Ms. Boo, the owner of the flower shop and the grandmother of his best friend. On more than a few occasions, she had acted as a grandmother to him, too—bringing him lunches and pestering him about eating enough, or nagging him for not dressing properly in cold weather. 

“Nothing!”

“Look what you’re doing to my flowers.” She narrows her eyes, extending a wrinkled finger out in his direction. 

Seokmin glances down to find that his knuckles have gone white against the stem of the baby’s breath he's been unconsciously shaking like a rattle. The delicate white flowers have been pulverized, reduced to white fuzz on the arrangement he was attempting to make and the surrounding surface of the work station. 

“Ah, shi-“ She gives him a glare, “Sorry.” He quickly rephrases, “I’ll clean this up.”

As Ms. Boo straightens out some gardenias in a vase, she asks him again, “What’s wrong?” 

He takes a deep breath, reaching for the dustpan under the counter. “It’s just… Someone I met on the bus.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Very.” He nods, then sighs. “I just wish the conversation we had went differently, that’s all.” 

“Well,” She seems to be mustering up her years of wisdom, eyebrows raising as she fixes her apron, “You’re a handsome boy, Seokmin-ah. And you’ve got good sense. God knows you’ve got more than Seungkwan,” she grumbles the last part, and it makes Seokmin’s lips curl up a bit. “Your car isn’t fixed yet, right?”

He shakes his head, “No.” 

“So, then get back on the bus tonight and talk to her.” She insists with the assurance only an 85 year old grandmother could have. 

“I would, but…”

“And stop moping. You’re making the flowers sad. They feel these kinds of things.” She nods, feeling the petal of the lily between her fingertips. Suddenly, she snaps her fingers, “Finish this arrangement and get back to work.”

He finishes brushing the white fuzz of the carnation into the dustpan and discarding it before tackling the bouquet he was previously working on with a tad more care. He finishes after deciding the pale flowers need a touch of color, so he adds a few pink roses and places it in a bucket near the front window of the store on display. 

He takes a moment to glance outside at the busy street, watching the people that pass by. Couples stroll hand in hand, and more often than not, the girls will stop their partner to point out the flowers. This was a common occurrence, and if Seokmin was lucky, the displays would draw in a few more customers than usual. 

Not today, though. As he does a once over every arrangement he’s chosen to display on the window, he realizes they all lack something besides effort. He can’t put his finger on exactly what they’re missing, but Ms. Boo was right— the plants do feel emotions—and these weren’t particularly joyous creations. 

As he sprays the leaves with a little mist bottle he carries around in his apron, he watches through the window each person that passes by in an effort to pass the time. It isn’t like there’s much to do during the less busy hours, and there’s only so many arrangements he can make when they’re all coming out dull and lifeless to match his gloom. 

So, Seokmin opts for people watching, until a specific individual catches him by surprise. 

At first, he thinks he’s seeing things. 

Not only have you stopped outside the shop to gaze and gawk at the flowers while wearing a soft, admiring look, but soon enough, the bell above the door has chimed, meaning you’ve actually come inside. 

He would greet you, as he’s supposed to do when a customer enters the shop, but he… can’t—at least not from where he is now, ducking behind the sales counter.

Before you could have spotted him, his fight or flight reflexes, or in this case just flight, had kicked in. He could’ve easily ran behind the curtain to the room where some of the flowers are stored, but then he would’ve ran into Ms. Boo, who would have questioned his reasons for leaving the counter unattended.

Then, he realizes that Seungkwan wouldn’t be coming in until later, and their other part-timer Eunchae didn’t work today because she had an exam at school.

The service bell at the counter rings once and he grimaces, full of hopeful thinking that you’d just go away if no one appeared. Instead you ring it again, and he ducks lower, until some shuffling behind him and the voice of his best friend’s grandmother gives him away.

“Seokmin-ah, there’s someone at the counter!”

There’s a pause, and though he can’t see how your ears perk up at the sound of the familiar name, he knows he’s absolutely busted because even if you didn’t correlate that ‘Seokmin’ was also the same guy who woke you up on the bus, he’d be forced to show himself before long. Ms. Boo continues to ramble, much to his dismay.

“Are you still sulking over the pretty girl from the bus?” Yeah, that’ll do it. “Ah, Seokmin-ah… I don’t pay you to sulk.”

At this, Seokmin covers his face with his palm. 

He has no way of knowing that as he’s willing and pleading with the ground to swallow him whole and spare him from the incoming embarrassment, Ms. Boo’s comment had brought a little smile to your face. You’re peering around the shop for him when you see someone start to peek out from the other side of the counter. 

First, his fingers. They land on the marble surface, and less than a second later, his dark mop of hair follows, appearing past the slope. Then, his kind eyes, big nose, and his teeth, clenched together tightly in reluctance as he takes in your amused gaze.

You cross your arms over your chest and Seokmin scoffs, shooting up suddenly. 

“This is unbelievable!” His laugh is loud and theatrical, though a touch ironic, given the whole ‘hiding-from-you-behind-the-counter’ situation just seconds prior. He doesn’t let his obvious preposterousness stop his rampage, though. In very Seokmin fashion, he commits to the bit, puffing up his chest a little. “You call me a stalker and now you go and stalk me to my place of employment!” 

“I never called you a stalker.” You say simply, and his face falters only slightly. “Nor did I stalk you.” Seokmin rolls his eyes as you continue. “Also, who even says ‘place of employment?’” 

As if straight out of a bad middle school play, which Seokmin had plenty of practice at back in his day, he regains his confidence at his turn to speak his line, scoffing again at your nonchalant attitude. Why were you so unbothered about the way you treated him? He ignores your question, and readies his next comeback.

“Yeah? Well, then how did you know where I work, huh?”

When you wordlessly turn to show off the tote bag slung over your shoulder, a few things occur. 

The color of Seokmin’s cheeks become very red, very fast. His ears quickly glow a similar shade to match. He completely deflates—letting up on his accusations and dropping the theatrics. There’s a reason he’s a florist and not an actor. 

Then, he realizes what you’re showing off—the tote bag! You’re wearing the bag he got you! You’re actually using it! He can see the wire of your headset poking out of the top, and the square mold of your laptop filling the material!

At the same time, however, his eyes land on the only design or pattern it has. Sewn in black, the bag boldly displays the name of Ms. Boo’s flower shop. At this, Seokmin smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck.  

“I figured I’d find you here.” You mumble, taking a look around, “it’s a pretty place.”

“Yeah.” He nods, but he’s still eyeing you suspiciously, waiting for you to announce the reason for your visit. 

“I came to…” your fingers reach over the counter to brush off the fuzz of the baby’s breath that remained on his dark green apron, and Seokmin tucks his chin to his chest, exposing all of his chins as his eyes shift between your hand and eyes that are both set on his torso.

”There.” You sigh, “I came to apologize. I was going through a… Well, anyway, I wasn’t exactly nice to you, so…” 

“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” Seokmin grumbles.

“Sorry. And thank you.” 

“For?”

You swing the bag around again, “It came in handy.”

”Oh,” He knew it would, “I’m glad.” 

“Seokmin-ah… There’s someone at the—Oh, hello.” Shuffling over with a wad of eucalyptuses in her arms, Ms. Boo smiles warmly at you, as she does with all customers who stop by the shop. 

”Ms. Boo, this is…“

”Y/N.” 

“Y/N.” Both of them echo your name, though Seokmin does it under his breath, in a quiet affirmation to himself. He decides instantly that it’s perfect, and that it suits you perfectly. He doesn’t intend for it to be a Tony and Maria situation, but the way it sounds, rolling off his tongue, is seamless and simply, right.

”It’s lovely to meet you,” Ms. Boo adds.  

“Likewise. Excuse me, I wanted to know if I borrow Seokmin real quick? I owe him a coffee.” 

Seokmin hisses apprehensively, reinstating his act momentarily as he begins rolling up his sleeve to search for the time on his watch. “Yeah, well, my break isn’t for another—“

”Take him, please. But only give him back when he’s in a better mood.” She gives him a light-hearted glare as she scurries away, calling out, “every plant he’s walked past today has wilted.” 

“I plan to do just that. Thank you.” 

He makes it look like he’s in some kind of distress when he unties his apron and lifts the neckloop over his head, but really, he can’t wait to cut work for a coffee with you. There’s a little cafe nearby, and he’s almost sure that’s where you’ll be taking him. He also can’t wait to recommend his favorite drink to you, though part of him worries you might not enjoy it and consequently bruise his ego a little—given the fading but still ever-present grudge he’s holding against you.

Seokmin can’t help but prolong the act of clocking out: changing shoes, grabbing his wallet and phone from his cubby, folding his apron (instead of hanging it up in whatever state it’s in, as he usually does), while you shift your weight between your heels and gawk at him in wait. He does all this in an effort to extend the minutes he has with you. His break is fifteen minutes, but those fifteen minutes can’t go by if the clock technically hasn't started counting.

You stand by patiently, following him around with your eyes as he tidies up a single flower out of place or wipes his hands down on a rag. When he’s finally ready, and can’t be bothered to pretend that lacing his sneakers actually takes longer than two minutes, he joins you on the other side of the counter and follows you to the door. 

Feeling a little nervous, he clears his throat. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can just go our separate ways.” 

“I do. This way, I can properly convey my apology and gratitude. You know: two birds, one stone.” 

“Those are two separate things… It’s only right that you would owe me two coffees then.” The way he grumbles under his breath unveils some of his bitterness, though you can tell by the half-hearted side-eye he gives you as he fights back a grin, that he’s really only messing with you.

So you laugh, and Seokmin feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. With a shake of your head, you turn to him, defeated. “Alright. You can get a coffee and a muffin.” 

Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to see your smile again, he brings his hand up to rub his chin, “Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t really like muffins.” 

“Well, then I’ll just have to stop by tomorrow, too.” 

At this, Seokmin smiles from ear to ear, tilting his head away towards the street so that you don’t catch the way he lights up at the prospect of possibly seeing you again. 

As the two of you cross the street, you notice a bus stop a little up the way, nodding towards it so he can look. “Is that where you catch the bus?” He nods. “Funny, my stop is only two blocks down the street we came from.” 

Seokmin reaches for the door of the cafe, holding it open for you to walk through. To his delight, you seem to be fascinated by the space—meaning it’s likely you haven’t been here before. He watches as you study the rustic lights on the ceiling, the shiny wooden tables, and the botany at the window. 

“These look like the ones from your shop.” 

“That’s because they are.” He stands beside you. “The owner of the cafe loves the classics. So do I. So, in exchange for a floral arrangement or two, he lets me borrow a book.”  He watches your gaze leave him to face the singular bookshelf he had gestured to, a tall collection of literary classics neatly sorted by author. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head as you take it in, mouth agape as you slowly step toward the shelves. 

Not yet grasping the extent of your fascination, and with the line to order clearing out, Seokmin remembers he’s on a schedule. “Do you wanna order?” 

“I…” You shake your head, fingertips ghosting over the spine of the books without grazing them, because you know better than to touch an antique collection. It doesn’t stop you from admiring them, mumbling out a response to the boy next to you without giving it much thought. “I usually get… You know what, just order whatever for me.” 

You dig for your wallet in the tote bag, handing your card to him without tearing your eyes away from the sight before you. Seokmin only laughs and takes it without the slightest intention to use it. He orders you the drink he thinks you might like the best, as someone with a taste for the traditional things--like classic literature and walkmans--and orders himself a more sugary poison to nurture his sweet tooth. 

When he pays, he doesn’t use your card, but he wraps the receipt around it anyway so you won’t holster any suspicion that he did exactly what he did. He only checks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still distracted, and you are, ogling the books as if you had never seen anything as marvelous as the contents of this bookshelf before. 

He feels something fluttering in his chest, and he knows very well what caused it, but he pays it no mind—opting instead for leaning into the cashier who he’s frequently talked to during his coffee breaks with his caffeine crazy friend, Boo Seungkwan. 

“Hey, Josh. Do you know if Mr. Kim is in today?” Kim Jongdae, the owner of the cafe, had a soft spot for the flower shop boys ever since they helped make him a beautiful bouquet for his wife’s birthday. Then, for their anniversary and every celebration thereafter. 

Joshua shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he starts on the drinks. “He’s out for the day. It’s the little one’s birthday.” 

“Shame. I wanted to borrow a book.”

“I mean… You know you can just grab any off the shelf.” He mumbles, hissing as he nearly burns his finger with the steaming espresso maker, “Which one do you want?” 

“Whichever one she does.” He turns to you,“That’s why I wanted to ask. It’s not for me, but for her.” 

“Ah.” Joshua looks between the two of you, without missing the gentle smile on Seokmin’s face as he watches you. He only manages to look away when the older boy at the counter sets both drinks down and clears his throat. “Here.”

“Right.” 

“And about that book,” he gestures to you, “I’ll ask Mr. Kim when I see him tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” With both drinks and your card wrapped in his receipt all clutched in his hands, he makes his way over to you quietly, as if any abruptness would disturb your studying of each and every title. But you hear him coming—that, or you smell the fresh coffee nearing you—so you spin around on your heels quickly, whisper-shouting as if he wasn’t right beside you now.

“This is incredible. I’m usually at the library until I get on the bus but–thank you,” You take the drink and instantly bring it to your lips for a sip, “Even the library doesn’t have this good of a–ah, hot!” 

“Be careful!” Seokmin fights the urge to beckon his hand closer to you, but his shoulders still jolt up in concern that you may have burned yourself.

“–good of a collection–wow, this is really good.” Your shift in focus makes him hold back a snort. 

“You like it?” 

“Yes, thank you. Should we sit?” He follows you to a table by the window, where the two of you can glance out at the bustling street as you chat. 

“Ms. Boo is nice.” You comment, as you notice one of the displays from the shop sitting at the sill.

“She is. She nags, but it’s only because she cares. I wouldn’t change anything about her.” 

You wear a warm smile on your lips as you take another sip, savoring the rich taste of your coffee. “I really like my drink. What did you get for yourself?”

Seokmin’s fingers move lazily to push the cup towards you. “Do you wanna try it?”

You hesitate, your gaze flicking between his inviting smile and the drink. After a moment’s pause, you reach for one of the wrapped paper straws sitting near the sugar and salt. You peel it open, pop it into the cup, and take a sip. You seem to like it at first, but then, the overwhelming sweetness hits, a syrupy storm that floods your taste buds, and you immediately regret your decision.

Your face scrunches up in disbelief as you try not to choke on the sugary onslaught, your throat resisting the thick sweetness. “Oh god,” you gasp, your eyes wide.

Seokmin’s laughter bubbles up effortlessly, and he rolls his eyes, clearly entertained by your reaction. You slide the drink back across the table to him, still reeling from the shock of it. “That’s—how can you even drink that?” you manage between soft chuckles.

“Really? It’s not that bad,” he says with a teasing grin, unbothered by the fact that you’re clearly struggling. “I’d say your drink needs an acquired taste.”

“Mine? I’m drinking coffee.” You set your cup down, now fully convinced that whatever he’s drinking is a bizarre concoction. “I don’t know what you’re drinking.”

Seokmin shrugs, his grin only widening. “Agree to disagree.” His cheeks aching from the persistent smile that seems to be permanently affixed to his face now.

You laugh in disbelief before taking a few large gulps of your own coffee, feeling its familiar warmth wash over you and effectively wiping away the remnants of Seokmin’s sugary disaster from your palate.

“So,” you begin, eyes narrowing slightly as you shift your focus to him, “how long have you been working there?”

“For a year now.” He leans back slightly in his chair, clearly more relaxed than before.

“Do you like it?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

He pauses, as if considering his words carefully before answering. “It’s… I mean, yes.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I spotted some hesitation there.”

He sighs, a quiet exhale of air as he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not like I wanna be there forever.” His tone shifts, like he’s trying to brush off the weight of the subject, but it lingers.

Glancing down at your cup, you swirl it around absentmindedly to cool the contents. You try to lighten the mood, teasing him, “Not taking over Ms. Boo’s position in the future?”

Seokmin smiles, clearly amused by the suggestion. “I’ll leave that to her grandson. He works there, too.” He shrugs, a nonchalant gesture, but there's a quiet finality in his words.

Feeling the need to dig a little deeper, you sit up straight, eyes bright with curiosity. “Okay, so what is it that you wanna do?”

Seokmin’s smile falters just a fraction, and for a brief moment, the easy-going confidence he always wears slips. His fingers fiddle with the edge of his cup, and he looks off into the distance, his expression turning distant. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, his tone dropping low.

You pause, sensing something behind the simplicity of his words, but you don’t press further. “It isn’t nothing.” You shake your head, “It’s what you wanna do with your life. I wouldn’t call that nothing.” 

After a brief pause that consists of looking between your eyes and playing with the syllables stuck thickly in his mouth, Seokmin mumbles a single word. “Music.” 

“Music?” You echo him, then stay silent so he can elaborate. You can tell he feels some degree of discouragement, obvious in the way his shoulders slump down. His hands start fidgeting and he looks out the window again as he seems to recall some memory. 

“But it’s nothing serious right now. I mess around with my guitar and write stuff every once in a while, but… I haven’t really played since—“ 

“I would love to hear,” you cut him off, leaning forward, “If you ever feel like showing someone, I would love to listen to you play.” 

There’s a sudden bitterness in his throat (that definitely isn’t his coffee) as he recalls a slightly stirring memory. It’s not as distant as he would like it to be, despite his attempt to store it in the ‘do-not-open’ file of his mind, but it doesn’t stop him from nodding along and agreeing to your offer with some apprehension, because truthfully, you had no part in carving that scar.

Simply put: you were not her. 

“I haven’t played in a while,” he rephrases, “but when I pick it up again, you’ll be the first person I show.” 

It doesn’t take long before you start telling him about your studies, now that you had succeeded in interrogating him with a few of your burning questions, and it becomes apparent to Seokmin very quickly how easy conversation flows with you. Each word you utter is warm, welcoming, almost familiar, as if he had known you for longer than he did–and he suddenly feels very guilty for having misjudged you. 

It’s not like you know of the way he bad-mouthed you in his sensitive mind, so there really is no need to compensate for it. Even then, he feels he owes you something—like he should make it up to you for thinking such things about a person of your nature. 

He learns that you’re a student who’s majoring in English literature, with the aspiration to be a writer. The two of you agreed that he’d show you his music, and you’d show him what you’re working on—the last of which delighted him, seeing as he’d spent weeks trying to guess what your fingers typed away on your computer each night on the bus. You hate sugary drinks, that much you made clear, and you had a strong distaste for the smell of holiday candles. 

Every word you’d spill left him on the edge of his seat, wanting to know more about you. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to go back to work, he’d have sat with you for the whole afternoon listening to you talk. 

But instead, you join him on his walk back to the flower shop, unknowingly having fulfilled your promise to bring him back in a better mood. 

“Ms. Boo?” 

“Seokmin-ah? You’re back right on time. There’s a customer who needs a graduation arrangement for their son.” Seokmin can tell she’s in the backroom, wrestling the hose to fill the watering can from the strain in her voice.

“I’ll get my apron on!” He calls, then spins around to face you, “Thank you for today. I liked my coffee, even if you didn’t think it was great.” 

“Good to know. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” 

“Tomorrow? Won’t I catch you on the bus tonight?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he hopes you didn’t catch the disappointment behind them.

“Tonight’s the last night of my study group, and those usually run late.” So that’s why you hadn’t been taking the bus lately, “So, tomorrow it is. Unless you don’t want that second coffee…” 

“I do.” He insists, and your lips curl up as you reach for the doorknob. 

“Alright, then.” 

The instant the door shuts behind you, he starts counting down the hours until he can see you again. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

Seokmin’s shift could not have gone any slower. Unlike any day before, the hours could not seem to pass, despite how badly he willed them to. Aside from Seungkwan’s occasional side-eyed-glares and complaints of his uncharacteristically fast work pace today, Seokmin has managed to complete his tasks for the day and more: he prepared two graduation orders placed last minute and a walk-in customer who was uncertain of what ‘I’m sorry’ bouquet to get his girlfriend, all while trying to appease potential buyers who entered the shop, drawn in by the six new bouquet’s he’d made this very same morning and displayed at the window. 

All that, and it’s only fifteen past eleven in the morning.

“What has you in such a rush? I’m like four orders behind you. Usually, it’s the other way around.” The last part is but a grumble under his breath. 

Unable to explain, because he isn’t exactly sure of the answer either, Seokmin brushes Seungkwan's suspicious raised brow off and mentions something that would pique his interest instead, in hopes of changing the topic. 

“You know Soonyoung said Chan blew him off for a date? They were supposed to go out drinking and then—” 

“And then Minji called him and he bailed, I know. Can’t say I’m surprised.” 

“And then—” 

“Slow down!” Seungkwan all but yanks the scissors from his best friend’s hands, which is, needless to say, not the safest thing to do, and puts them at his own station. “You’ve been hogging them for the last hour.” he hisses, “If my grandma comes in and sees that I’m this far behind, she’ll make me skip my break.” 

“I just need time to pass by quickly. I figure if I keep myself busy, it just might.” 

“Time doesn’t work like that, idiot.” 

“Actually, it does. Idiot.” He sneers back, and Seungkwan could not look more offended if he tried—eyes wide, lips puckered to shape a word he doesn’t quite get to say. He swings back his arm, but before Seokmin could get smacked by the handful of tulips in his grip, Ms. Boo comes bustling through, humming a mindless tune as she clutches a pen and a few envelopes in her arms. 

“Boys, I've got your pay for this week and the next. I have an appointment with Dr. Hong next Friday, so I won’t be here. I expect you’ll take care of the shop while I’m—these arrangements are lovely. Who made them?” 

The boys look between each other, and Seokmin huffs out before answering. “We both did, Ms. Boo.” 

“Good work. Lovely…” She starts mumbling to herself again as she shifts her attention from the flowers at the windowsill to the bills in her hands, counting them and separating them into two even piles. 

At Seokmin’s reply (call it an unspoken truce), Seungkwan visibly relaxes, releasing the flowers before he could ruin them and scurrying over to his grandma. “Have you been taking your medicine? You know he’ll scold you otherwise.” 

“I’m too old to be scolded,” She replies stubbornly, and their conversation fades momentarily as the door chimes again. 

“Welcome to Botanical–oh.” Seokmin’s scripted introduction is cut short as he notices that it’s you who has entered the shop, wearing a small smile. 

“Hi.” You greet him, “and hello, Ms. Boo.” 

“Hello.” She chirps, “Y/N, was it?” 

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“Hey,” Seokmin’s wide smile, which nourished the moment he laid eyes on you, suddenly falters as he realizes the time. “Shit, are you here for-” 

“Language.” 

“Sorry,” he bows his head apologetically at Ms. Boo, then grabs your arm to drag you a little further from the pair, “I can’t take my break right now.” He tells you, regretfully. Your smile falls a little.

“Really? I was looking forward to our coffee time. Plus, I desperately need some caffeine. I’ve been reading this boring manuscript since seven.” You scowl, gesturing to the stack of papers overflowing from your bag.

That pout, the one on your lips: it needs to be fixed as soon as possible. Seokmin holds a single finger up as he scours his brain for a plan, “Wait here a second. Let me see what I can do.” With that, he turns around and speedwalks over to Seungkwan, who hands him his half of the money. 

“Here.” 

“Thanks.” Seokmin takes the bills, not quite meeting Seungkwan’s eyes as he pockets them. “Hey, listen…” His voice drops, just low enough that it almost feels like a secret. “I need to take my break now.”

Seungkwan blinks in confusion, his brow furrowing. “What?!” 

“Shh!” Seokmin urges, his face a mix of impatience and pleading. He tugs at his sleeve, leaning closer so only Seungkwan can hear. “Please.”

“No way,” Seungkwan protests, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. “I take the morning breaks, you take the afternoon. That’s how this works.”

Seokmin’s expression hardens just a fraction, the edge of desperation creeping in as he stands a little taller. “Seungkwan, I’m begging you to switch with me just this once.”

Seungkwan stares at him, weighing his options. His arms remain crossed, a stubborn defiance settling into his posture. “No way.”

With no other option, Seokmin huffs and crosses his arms firmly over his chest. 

“Fine,” Seokmin finally says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll just go tell your grandma how many customers I’ve helped today and that all the displays were my doing and—”

“Okay, okay!” Seungkwan interrupts, throwing his hands up in surrender. “God, dude, you really suck. Don’t make this a habit, yeah?” 

Spoiler alert: he would.

Seokmin’s face lights up with a grin. “Thank you!” he exclaims, not even giving Seungkwan a chance to protest before his apron is untied with a swift yank. It’s tossed into Seungkwan’s arms, and Seokmin is already dashing toward the back, his shoes clacking against the floor with each hurried step.

He doesn't wait for the usual stream of complaints to catch up to him, knowing full well that they’re coming. Quickly, Seokmin kicks off his non-slip shoes in one fluid motion, leaving them in a pile as he slides into his own sneakers. 

Less than a minute later, he joins you by the door. 

“Coffee time?” His tone is playful, and you mirror it as you nod once.  

“Coffee time.” 

The cafe has a few students scattered around with their laptops when you enter. There’s also a few others, people who Seokmin knows work in the stores and buildings nearby. They stop by occasionally for their lunch and coffee breaks, but even then, the cafe is emptier than it is most days at this time. Mr. Kim is alongside Joshua, tending to something on the register, when the two of you approach them. 

“Morning,” 

“Good morning, Seokmin.” Kim Jongdae offers the boy a warm smile. 

There’s a bit of small talk exchanged between them—Mr. Kim asks about Ms. Boo and Seungkwan, Seokmin asks about his son’s birthday—until Seokmin goes to introduce you, but turns around to find you near the bookshelf once more. This seems to remind Mr. Kim of something he discussed earlier with Joshua. 

“My answer is yes, by the way.” He starts, “Joshua asked me this morning. He said you, or rather, she wanted to borrow a book. Go ahead. It’s the least I can do to repay you boys for the hard work you do to make this place look nice.” Mr. Kim gives him a firm nod, patting Joshua on the back after briefly explaining a new menu item on the screen. He walks off, and Seokmin calls out to him. 

“Thank you, really!” He turns to Joshua, “and thank you, too. I’ll get the same two drinks as yesterday. ”

“You got it.” 

He pays quickly and turns around, pausing for a few moments to admire you before taking two long strides over. When he’s beside you, he lowers his head so it’s by your shoulder and speaks quietly, so as to not disturb you. “Which one piques your interest?” 

“Which ones,” you correct, marveling up at him before looking back to the shelves. “There’s so many. I wouldn’t know which one to grab first if I could.” Your index finger comes up after a pause, “Maybe this one.” 

“Go on, then.” 

“I wish.” you sigh, and he can no longer withhold his smile.

“I’m serious. Grab it. I asked the owner for permission.” 

Your head cranes slowly over to him, eyes so wide he swears he could have seen his reflection in them.

“Are you serious?” Your voice is soft, unsure, surprised, grateful. You’re almost not sure whether to believe him or not, but when his gentle brown eyes look between you and the book, and he gives you a little encouraging nudge on your shoulder as a go ahead, you finally move to reach out slowly and pick it off of the shelf, cradling it in your hands as if it was a precious thing. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” His voice is calm but sincere, and there’s a small, almost thoughtful smile tugging at his lips as he watches you. The shelf you’d been looking at earlier, once so absorbing, now feels distant as your attention shifts entirely to him.

You blink, unsure how to respond, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself lost for words. “Gosh, I-I don’t… I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He mutters with a crooked smile.

“Thank you.” You repeat the words, quieter this time.

“Anytime.” He shrugs. For a moment, the two of you are caught in a quiet, comfortable pause.

It’s only Joshua calling Seokmin’s name from across the room that snaps the two of you back to reality. You blink and suddenly remember—you’re the one who owes him a coffee, not the other way around.

“Wait, you ordered already?”

“I kinda had to.” Seokmin shrugs sheepishly, his eyes flicking over to the counter before returning to you. “Honestly, I’m more scared of going over my break time while Seungkwan is there than when it’s just Ms. Boo.”

“That’s your friend, right? Seungkwan?” you ask, tilting your head slightly. 

“Yep,” Seokmin replies. “The one with the dyed blonde hair who always looks like he’s about to complain about something.”

“That’s Ms. Boo’s grandson, then.” You piece it together with a grin, and Seokmin hands you your drink. You take it but find your thoughts drifting again.

“What’s wrong?” Seokmin asks, noticing your distracted gaze.

“I still owe you,” you admit softly, looking down at the drink in your hands. “For the bag and the book.”

Seokmin bumps your shoulder lightly, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess you’ll just have to keep stopping by.” 

“I guess I will,” 

To his delight, the rest of Seokmin’s shift was effortless and quick. There was the occasional bickering with Seungkwan, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. And, for some reason, he didn’t seem to mind it as much today. Because, waiting for him at the bus stop when he arrived later that very same evening, was you, eager to tell him all about the book you had started reading. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

Seokmin had never been a fan of routines. His personality was spontaneous, and so the things he did on a day-to-day basis were too. Up until now, the only constants in his life were the flower shop and his friends, who provided their own random spontaneity in the form of unpredictable weekend plans or an ever-changing work environment that depended solely on which side of the bed Seungkwan woke up on that morning. 

Seokmin gets bored easily, an issue he resolves with movie marathons or long walks or hangouts—just about anything will suffice, if it means his mind is occupied and distracted the majority of the time. 

Lately, though, a new element has been introduced to his daily life. A routine. 

A routine where, during every shift, you stop by after your time studying at the library and pick him up for ‘coffee time’ during his breaks (much to Seungkwan’s disappointment, coffee time was usually during the first half of the day). Then, you’d stay at the coffee shop reading the book—because despite Seokmin insisting that it was okay for you to take home, you’d always refuse—until his shift was over. He’d find you at the bus stop, waiting for him, and the two of you would chatter on until you were dropped off at your stop. 

In a way, he had become dependent on this routine—something he thought could never happen. It was admittedly his favorite part of the day, catching up with you, hearing what you had to say or what thoughts you had cultured after your time reading the book. And when you finished that one a few weeks in, he made sure to take some new potted plants and flowers over to Mr. Kim in exchange for another. 

And for some time, that’s the way things were. He had contemplated asking to do something with you outside of the usual bus or coffee shop pattern, but everytime he intended to ask, he’d cower and procrastinate. Next time, he’d tell himself.

Early on a Sunday morning, Seungkwan came into the shop rambling about how his Grandma was at his older sister’s house and wouldn’t be coming by. It’s not like the two of them couldn’t handle the shop alone—they had done it countless times before—but her presence was primarily longed for when it came to getting the two of them back on track. Especially on Sundays, where the task at hand was to clean, fertilize, and redecorate wilted displays. For obvious reasons, this was something neither of them enjoyed doing. 

At the moment, it’s just him in the store. Seungkwan was taking his morning break that he insisted was non-negotiable today and Seokmin only agreed so easily because Sundays are the only days he doesn’t see you. 

The doorbell jingles softly as you step into the flower shop, and Seokmin glances up from behind the counter looking for a customer or Seungkwan, his hands momentarily pausing in their careful arrangement of flowers. A surprised look crosses his face as you poke your head in.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lifting with a bit of surprise, but the smile that quickly forms softens his expression. “I didn’t think you’d stop by today.”

“Actually, I only came by to see Ms. Boo,” you tease, and Seokmin hisses through his teeth. 

“I regret to inform you, she’s not in today.” 

You grin, stepping further into the shop, the familiar floral scent filling the air around you. “I’m kidding. I was nearby and I thought I’d keep you company for a bit.”

“It’s not usually this quiet around here,” he says, his hands brushing against the flowers almost absently as he talks. “It’s kind of nice when it’s just me, but I guess I don’t mind the company.” He rolls his eyes, but it’s easy to see right through him when he’s so clearly beaming that you're here.

Your presence, standing so casually by the counter, feels like something he didn’t know he was waiting for. He’s used to the steady hum of the shop, the quiet buzz of the day, the mildly irritating sounds of Seungkwan, but with you here... it’s different. He can’t quite pinpoint why, but there’s a feeling in his chest that settles somewhere between contentment and something else he’s been trying to ignore for a while now.

Before he can dwell too much on it, the door jingles again, and Seungkwan strides in, looking as effortless as ever. His eyes dart between you and Seokmin, already catching the shift in the air. 

“Why, hello,” Seungkwan says, grinning widely as he crosses the shop and leans against the counter. “I was wondering when we’d be properly introduced.”

“You must be Seungkwan,” you say, arching an eyebrow at Seokmin, who rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.

“And you must be Y/N. It seems like I took my break right on time.” Seungkwan continues, throwing an exaggerated glance at Seokmin. “He can’t shut up about you.”

Seokmin groans as he shifts uncomfortably behind the counter. “Seungkwan, please. You don’t have to make it sound so weird.”

You smile at the light teasing, the way Seungkwan’s attention naturally shifts to Seokmin with that familiar comfort only best friends seem to have. It’s clear they’ve known each other for a while. Seokmin, though, is less than amused by Seungkwan. His cheeks glow pink as he glares.

“Well, you are weird,” Seungkwan mutters.

“Alright, Seungkwan,” Seokmin says with a sigh. 

“Okay, I’m off to the back to unload fertilizer.” He announces and you give him a polite wave as he turns to you, “It was nice to meet you.”

As Seungkwan heads out the back door, Seokmin lets out a quiet breath, shaking his head. The shop feels quieter, now that it's just you and him. It’s strange, but Seokmin finds himself oddly aware of the space between you two.

He glances over at you again, trying not to seem too obvious, but there’s something about the way you’re standing there—easy, comfortable, but somehow still pulling at him in a way he can’t ignore. His fingers hesitate over the vase in front of him, caught in the motion of arranging flowers but not quite focused on the task.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I guess you get to work in peace for now, huh?”

“Yeah, it seems that way.” Seokmin huffs. He takes a step toward you, to reach for something behind you. His hand brushes over a batch of roses, then pausing as if he’s suddenly unsure of the next move, painfully aware of how close he’s gotten. He clears his throat, the casual tone of his voice not quite matching the thoughts swirling in his mind. “So, um... you like flowers?”

You tilt your head, a teasing smile on your lips. “Is that a serious question?”

“I-” Seokmin laughs softly, his fingers running over the petals of the flowers before grabbing them and attempting to focus on his station. 

You lean a little closer, your voice light but playful. “Well, I like you, don’t I?” The way you say those words with a teasing tone makes Seokmin nearly choke, “So I kind of have to like flowers. Otherwise, how am I meant to hang around you?” You gesture at the shop. 

Seokmin’s breath catches, and for a moment, he feels like he’s losing the thread of the conversation.

"I didn’t expect to find you working today. I didn’t even know the shop opened on Sundays," you say casually, glancing up at him. “I’m sure the flowers appreciate the extra attention.”

"I’m pretty good with the flowers, but I think they’d appreciate the company more if you came by more often."

You arch an eyebrow, “Oh? You think they’d enjoy my company more than yours?”

“I know Seungkwan would.” You laugh at this, and Seokmin revels in the sound, joining you. 

After a pause, he shifts his attention back to the flowers, showing you the final product. “What do you think?” 

“They’re pretty.” 

“I think so, too.” He decides, not necessarily talking about the flowers, “Even though I was a little distracted.”

"Distractions can be good, though,"

"Well, you’re a pretty good distraction," he tries for the words to sound casual, but his tone betrays him. He also said it much quicker than he intended to, and he’s grateful for the chance to turn around while grabbing another pot because it offers him a means to hide his reddening cheeks. 

You let the words hang in the air for a beat longer than usual, enjoying the teasing, the way it feels easy between you two. "Good to know," you reply, smirking.

Before Seokmin can respond, the door swings open and Seungkwan walks in again, wiping his hands on his apron and immediately launching into his usual dramatic self. 

"I swear, I’ll never get used to that fertilizer smell," he complains, tossing his apron on a hook. He looks over at you and Seokmin, "Glad to know you two haven’t burned the place down."

You grin, "Not yet, but we’re working on it."

Seungkwan scoffs half-heartedly, glancing between you. "Nice to see him finally making some friends outside of the plants."

As Seungkwan heads toward the back, he gives you both a knowing look. “Don’t let him get too distracted, alright?” he calls over his shoulder with a grin.

“I’ll try my best.” You give Seokmin a wink and he shakes his head, showing you an idea for another potential bouquet.

The last hour passes seamlessly fast, now that you’re here. Before Seokmin knows it, you, him, and Seungkwan are locking up the store and parting ways from the blonde as the two of you walk side by side to the bus stop. 

As he sits beside you on the bus later that night, looking over your shoulder at your collection of tapes for your walkman, he wrestles with the invitation that sits in the forefront of his mind. Spending time with you at the shop was great, but it somehow still feels like it follows your usual pattern. That, and Seungkwan’s presence, albeit lively and entertaining, keeps him from being able to spend as much time as he’d like with you—without the time constriction of a fifteen minute break or a forty minute bus ride. But like always, he decides to ask a different question in place of the one he really wants to. 

“How come you use a walkman? I always meant to ask you.” 

“I like the way the music sounds on it. I don’t know. It was my dad’s.” You smile warmly, “He used to let me borrow it when I was younger and I just kind of… inherited it.” 

“It’s cool. Makes you look all mysterious. Like you’re from a different time.” 

“You think?” He nods fervently, but your shoulders still sink in doubt as you fumble with the multicolored tapes. “Everything sounds nicer on it. When you listen to music on it, it’s like a mini time-machine. Or, it might just be me, I don’t know.” 

“I’m sure it’s not just you. Here, let me try. Pick one for me.” 

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards for a second as you ponder which song to play. Delicately, your fingers brush over each tape, hovering in thought like they had with the books on Mr. Kim’s shelf, until you finally land on one.  

“It’s my favorite.” You tell him shyly, “I think you’ll like it.”

Carefully, you pull the cassette out of its case and click it into the audio player with a low snap. Seokmin watches as your hands slip the headset off from around your neck, watching as you shift in your seat and place them gently over his head. He tries not to think about how close your face is to his but… how can he not? You’ve leaned in to ensure that both spongy cushions are perfectly sat over his ears, and now you’re only a few inches away—close enough that he can catch the faint scent of your shampoo. It lingers, soft and floral, wrapping around him like the embrace of something he hadn’t realized he’d miss until you finally sat back, asking “ready?” 

You press down on the play button and look up at him, eyes full of expectation.

There’s that familiar, comforting crackle of the cassette winding into motion, a sound that makes Seokmin feel as if he’s in an old-timey dream. And then, the music starts: your song—your favorite song—something you had chosen specifically for him to hear. Every note feels warm, intimate, melodic. For some reason, it temporarily diminishes his burning curiosity about you, but not because he finds himself any less intrigued, but because it finally feels like he’s taken a real peek inside your mind.

As someone who loves music, Seokmin is a firm believer that a person’s favorite song says a lot about them. The more it plays, the more he realizes that this song, in every sense of the word, is an extension of you. 

As the melody flows, you watch him, eyes studying his reaction with that same teasing smile. You lean closer again, and he subconsciously holds his breath as you whisper, “Do you hear it?” He nods.

There’s a warmth in it, a rawness that makes it feel like more than just music. This was something deeply yours, a piece of your world that you were letting him in on, if only for a few minutes.

He listens with his eyes closed, letting himself drift along the rhythm, feeling the weight of each tone and key change and lyric the artist sings, full of intention. When he finally opens his eyes, he finds you still looking at him with a kind of question in your gaze, a quiet hope. The song fades out, but Seokmin keeps the headphones on for a second longer, letting the last notes dissolve into silence. He looks up again, meeting your gaze. 

For a moment, he’s not sure what to say. Anything he could say feels too small, too plain for what he wants you to understand. So he starts with the only words that come out easily, his voice low and sincere. “I… I think I get it.” He pauses, then adds, “And this song… it feels like you.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, a playful gleam in your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask, though there’s a softness in your tone, like you’re hoping he’ll really answer.

He glances down at the walkman, watching your thumb tracing along the edge as he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s just… this song is so warm. It’s like the way you laugh, the way you make everything feel a little bit lighter.” He feels his cheeks warm but keeps going, his words coming out before he can second-guess them. “It’s like a piece of you, and I can feel it, even with my eyes closed.”

You go still, your expression shifting, the playful smile that played on your lips softening into something more serious. Neither of you say anything for a moment.

The bus begins to slow, and you both glance out the window, realizing this is your stop. You reach up, fingers brushing his ear as you gently pull the headphones from him, careful not to disturb the sense of closeness still hanging in the air. You slide the walkman back into your bag, a little slower than necessary, as if that might make the night last, if just for a few seconds longer.

“This is me,” you say softly, feeling the finality in the words as the bus comes to a gentle stop and the doors sigh open. You start to stand but pause, glancing down at him one last time. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, as if he’s searching for the right thing to say, something more than just “goodbye.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, your voice soft, almost hopeful.

He nods, his smile widening just a little. “Yeah,” he says, gentle but certain. “Tomorrow.” You’re about to turn around when he adds, “but not here. I want to go somewhere else with you. I mean, if you want to, that is.” He finds his breath catching again, “The flower shop closes early on the weekends. I was thinking... Maybe we could go to the beach?”

With a grin playing on your lips, you nod, “Yeah. I’d like that.” 

Giving him one last glance, you turn and step off the bus, feeling the warmth of his gaze linger behind as you walk down the street. As the bus pulls away, you catch his face framed in the window, waving until you’re out of sight. And though the music has stopped, the tune of this moment plays on, promising something to carry with you both until tomorrow. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

The sky stretches out in a hazy blue as Seokmin walks toward the beach, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. His fingers tap a nervous rhythm against its side as he looks around, hoping to spot you before you see him.

He barely slept the night before, having spent the better part of the morning hours contemplating and talking to himself with his guitar on his lap. It hadn’t been touched in nearly a year and a half, so he had to spend some time wiping it down, re-tuning it, and even fixing a string that had managed to come loose in the process.

He said he’d play for you, but then again, he hadn’t played for someone in a while and naturally, that made him extremely nervous, though that feeling didn’t even fully capture what he felt when he remembered he’d be playing for you. What would you think? Did you actually mean it when you said you wanted to hear him play? Or was that some automated response to boost his spirits? Would you even remember? It was weeks ago, on the first day at the coffee shop. Needless to say, he mulled over it endlessly.

Seokmin sighs, trying to calm himself down. By now, he had to slip off his shoes that were sinking in the cool sand, so he chooses to focus on the sensation of it against his skin instead of overthinking any longer. 

He finally spots you standing by the water, arms wrapped around yourself as a light breeze blows through your hair. When you turn and see him, your face brightens, and that smile of yours—bright and open—fills him with warmth instantly. “Is that—” you begin, your eyes widening as you notice the guitar.

“Thought it was time,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal despite his heart thundering as he sets the guitar down and dusts off a spot in the sand beside you. You sit next to him eagerly, your excitement spilling out in the way you lean closer, eyes sweeping between him and the guitar case, as if you’re finally being let in on a long-held secret. And, in a way, you are. 

He stretches his legs out, digging his heels into the cool sand. He watches you rummage through the tote bag beside you, and a curious smile tugs at his lips.

“You came prepared,” he chuckles, watching as you pull out a couple of neatly wrapped sandwiches and a small container of fruit.

“Of course I did,” you say with a smile, offering him a sandwich and holding out the fruit container. “I figured we’d get hungry eventually.” You shrug, glancing out toward the waves. “Besides, I thought it would be nice to have a little picnic.”

Seokmin accepts the sandwich with a grin, unwrapping it and taking a bite. He’s pleasantly surprised by the fresh crunch of lettuce and the perfect balance of flavors. “Did you make these?” he asks between bites, raising an eyebrow.

You nod, a bit of pride flashing in your eyes. “I did. You think I’d risk buying store-bought for a beach day?”

“Touché,” he laughs, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit container you’ve placed between you. “Honestly, this is already ten times better than what I packed.” He gestures vaguely to a plastic bottle and an uninspired granola bar that now seem almost laughable compared to your carefully prepared spread.

The sun has settled lower in the sky, casting the beach in a soft, golden haze. Seokmin leans back, resting his hands behind him as he glances over at you, a lazy grin playing at the corners of his mouth. The two of you have polished off the sandwiches, and now the empty wrappers lie folded beside the fruit container. He pops one last grape into his mouth, savoring the refreshing sweetness as he watches you tuck the food away with a little, satisfied sigh.

“So, did I earn any points for bringing the snacks?” you tease, dusting a few crumbs from your hands before looking over at him expectantly.

Seokmin laughs, squinting a little in the sunlight as he tilts his head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I’ll give you extra points for the sandwiches. But for the fruit,” he says, grabbing a couple of the last grapes with a mischievous smile, “I think you’ll need to try a little harder.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, leaning back beside him. “You’re just mad you didn’t think to bring anything.”

“Maybe,” he admits, laughing as he looks out at the waves. “But next time, I’ll bring something better.”

“Alright, big shot,” you say with a smirk, crossing your arms. “What’s on the menu then? A charcuterie board?”

“Definitely,” he says, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. “Maybe even some tiny, fancy desserts, the ones that look way too pretty to eat.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to impress someone.” You raise an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air just long enough that Seokmin can’t miss the playful edge in your tone. Not like he could have missed it anyway, with the way he hangs on your every word. 

He laughs again, but there’s a slight flush to his cheeks. “Hey, I’m just saying I know how to put together a memorable picnic,” he says, attempting a casual shrug. “But, you know, only if you’re there to witness it.”

You grin, unable to help the smile that breaks through at his subtle, almost shy attempt at flirting. “I’d hate to miss such an extravagant spread,” you reply, matching his casual tone with your own. “Guess you’ll have to invite me.”

Seokmin pretends to think it over, tapping his chin. “Hmm, alright, you’re in. But no backing out,” he says, his smile widening. “I’m holding you to this.”

There’s an ease between you, a lightness in the conversation that feels effortless, and for a while, the two of you just sit there, chatting about nothing and everything. He asks you about your favorite places to visit and listens as you share stories about the other hobbies you have. In return, you ask how he met Seungkwan, and he tells you about him and Soonyoung, recounting each memory he has made with them with an enthusiasm that makes you feel like you were right there with him.

Then, as the conversation dips, he glances down at the guitar case beside him. He reaches for it almost absentmindedly, brushing his fingers along the edge of the case, but there’s a faint look of hesitation in his eyes that you don’t miss.

“You don’t have to, even if you brought it all the way out here. It’s up to you.” 

Seokmin lets out a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he glances away. He’s more grateful for your patience than you could ever know. 

 “Yeah… I haven’t really played in a while,” he admits, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s been over two years, actually. I brought it… Well, because I think it’s about time I get back into the habit.” He trails off, watching the waves again, his mind flickering to a different time, a different place, one he’s not sure he’s ready to revisit.

There’s a quiet understanding in your eyes as you nod. You don’t press him, don’t ask for more details. Instead, you just let the silence stretch out between you, the sound of the ocean filling the space where words might have gone. It’s almost as if you’re giving him permission to take his time, to decide for himself if this is something he wants to do.

After a moment, he takes a breath, exhaling slowly. “I used to play a lot, actually,” he says, almost to himself. “Just… haven’t felt like it in a while.”

The air feels thick with unspoken things, but Seokmin pushes past it, fingers brushing the guitar case almost impulsively. The weight of the past lingers for a second, but with a quick glance at you, he lets go of the hesitation clinging to him. This is different, he reminds himself. This isn’t for anyone else, no memories he needs to cling to. Just the open beach, the sun dipping low, and you, waiting beside him with a patient, easy smile.

He pulls the guitar from its case, its weight grounding him, though it feels different today than it had last night. It’s less scary, now that he’s with you. 

He glances over at you, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ready?” he asks. You nod, your eyes wide, leaning just close enough for him to catch the faint, floral hint of you drifting in the salt-laced air.

Seokmin strums the first couple of notes, letting the music rise and blend with the gentle crash of the waves. His fingers move on instinct, but his mind is all on you, capturing every little reaction—the way your eyes soften, the way your shoulders relax, reassuring him that his music is something you’ve been waiting to hear. He’s suddenly very relieved.

“I wrote this a few years back. It’s… Well, yeah. I think the lyrics speak for themselves.” 

It takes a few seconds and one or two badly played chords for him to regain a little bit of the confidence he had lost some time ago. But his fingers find their place quickly enough, and he parts his lips to sing. 

As Seokmin's voice fills the space between you, soft and hesitant at first, he notices the subtle shift in your expression. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, brows lifting in quiet surprise as if you hadn’t really expected him to sing so well. There’s a moment of stillness, only filled with his voice, warm and unpolished, floating in the air.

Your gaze flickers to and from him, watching the way his lips move to form each syllable, and then back to the water, where the waves blur in a streak of light. You can’t help but notice the way his face softens when he sings, his features loosening as he melts into the words. 

You look back at him, your lips parting in surprise. There’s a shy kind of amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth, like you're unsure if it’s okay to smile just yet, but the quiet joy you feel is evident in the warmth that floods your chest. You tilt your head slightly, caught between admiration and a soft, disbelieving smile.

I should’ve told you I’m in love with you

Then I wouldn’t have been regretting right now

The longer you listen, the more the words he’s written seem bound to him, something like an itch he couldn’t reach. You find your lips curving upward again, but there’s a sad sentiment behind your smile this time, eyes full with a kind of quiet affection. Something tugs at your heart just then, causing your brows to furrow slightly. Maybe it’s from the lyrics he wrote, or maybe it’s the simple, unguarded way he sings, you’re not entirely sure.

When he looks up, your gaze meets his, soft and steady. You don’t speak when he finishes. Instead, you reach over, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers as light as the spring breeze.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and in that moment, Seokmin realizes he doesn’t need to say anything at all.

You sit back, letting the sound of the water fill the space between you, the silence stretching just long enough for Seokmin to look out at the horizon, his fingers still idly plucking at the strings of his guitar. His expression has changed slightly, distant, like he's somewhere else for a moment, lost in thought.

You turn toward him, studying his profile. “Why don’t you play anymore?” you ask softly, not wanting to break the calm vulnerability of the moment, but still unable to ignore the quiet curiosity rising inside you. “I mean, you’re really good. Why keep it to yourself?”

He freezes for a second, his mindless strumming halting abruptly. He exhales, the sound almost like a sigh.

“I used to,” he begins to explain. His voice is quiet, almost like he’s talking to himself. “Back when I had someone to play for. It didn’t work out.” He swallows thickly. “She… She had been hooking up with her best friend practically since we got together.” 

You wait, letting him speak, but his lips press together for a moment, unsure if he should say more. His gaze turns toward the ocean, but there’s a shift in his eyes, which are normally so kind and full of spirit—something like a hard edge, as if a memory he had thought of has sharpened into something more painful. “I played for her all the time.”

You can’t hide the surprise that flashes in your eyes, and Seokmin glances at you. He doesn’t want pity. He’s not asking for it.

“I stopped playing after that,” he continues, “It just... didn’t feel the same anymore. It was something I gave to someone who didn’t deserve it.” He shrugs, as if the words are too heavy for him to carry all at once.

You can feel the hurt in the air, hanging around him like a shadow. You want to reach out, but you don’t know how to offer comfort without crossing a line, so you just sit still beside him, close enough that he can feel your presence but far enough to give him space.

And at the time, you didn’t know it, but for him, it was enough. 

After a long pause, you finally say, “I’m sorry. That’s... that’s a lot.”

He nods, and the tightness in his jaw softens slightly. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a little steadier. “But... maybe it’s okay.” Seokmin’s eyes flicker to you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Today felt right, you know. Playing for someone who’s actually listening.”

And in the quiet that follows, he feels something shift between you, the weight of unspoken things starting to lift.

“Seokmin,” you say, your voice gentle, as if careful not to disrupt the quiet peace he’s settled into. He can tell you’re about to say something, maybe offer some comforting words about his story, but he’s already lost in thought.

It hits him, then, so suddenly it almost makes him laugh at himself. The way the late afternoon light catches in your hair, the soft curve of your smile, the way you’re watching him with that steady, thoughtful gaze. It’s all so striking that it feels like something he’s never noticed before, and yet it feels so familiar at the same time.

He decides then, that this is the prettiest you’ve ever looked. 

Suddenly convinced you might be able to read his mind, he clears his throat, feeling a warmth creeping up his neck as he looks back down at the guitar, trying to hide the smile that’s fighting its way to his face. He wants to say it—wants to tell you that you look beautiful, that sitting here with you feels like some kind of dream he didn’t know he was allowed to have. But the words don’t come out; they sit, caught in his throat, trapped by the sudden nervousness that’s settled over him.

Instead, he finds himself brushing a hand over the guitar strings again, as if that small action might keep him grounded. “Thanks… for listening,” he manages, hoping it’ll distract from the fact that he can feel his cheeks warming.

You smile, nodding gently, still looking at him in that quiet, understanding way, and it only makes him want to blurt it out more. But for now, he lets the moment stretch, watching as you lean back in the sand, your gaze shifting back to the waves. The sun is sinking lower, and everything is bathed in that soft, warm light that makes the world feel as if it’s been suspended in time. And Seokmin realizes, right then and there, that this is one of those good memories he’ll hold on to; one he doesn’t intend to forget any time soon. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

It starts with a simple conversation over coffee, the two of you tucked into a cozy corner booth at the cafe, each with a steaming cup in hand as usual. It has become the norm, seeing you like this, nearly every morning and evening. Seokmin stirs a bit more sugar into his drink despite the crazed look you give him, then glances up at you with a warm, toothy smile as you tell him about your latest read. He leans in, listening intently, nodding as if every word you say is the most fascinating thing he’s heard all week. 

When you pause, taking a sip of your drink, he takes a chance to jump in, “You know, I’ve been meaning to go to the art museum downtown. It’s supposed to have this new exhibit.” He hesitates, looking down at his cup for a moment, then back at you with a shy, hopeful glint in his eyes. “If… you’d want to check it out with me?”

You perk up at the suggestion, grinning. “I’d love that! Museums are kind of my weakness.”

Relieved, he chuckles, “Then we’re in good company,” he says, the words coming out a little softer than he intends. He clears his throat, trying to play it cool, but his heart beats a little faster as you chuckle.

“Alright, Mr. Museum,” you say, teasing. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Great,” he replies, glancing out the window at the overcast sky. “How about today, then?”

With a nod, you grab your things, sliding out of the booth as Seokmin hurriedly follows, waving goodbye to Joshua. As you both step out onto the sidewalk, he can’t help the familiar rush of excitement at the thought of spending the rest of the day with you. The two of you stroll side by side down the bustling street, exchanging small talk and the occasional smile, his heart lifting with every step closer to the city.

The walk to the museum is a mixture of laughter, subtle glances, and playful nudges that neither of you can seem to resist. The air is crisp, a light breeze tugging at your sleeves as the two of you meander down the busy street, dodging the occasional cyclist or dog walker. Every few steps, one of you makes a half-serious comment—maybe about the art you’re about to see, maybe about the bizarre mannequin display in a shop window you pass—and it doesn’t take long before both of you dissolve into laughter, your steps momentarily slowed as you lean into each other, trying to catch your breath.

Seokmin, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, finds himself glancing your way more often than he’d like to admit, watching as you tuck your hair behind your ear or lift your face to the sky for a second, enjoying the clouds. He doesn’t know why he feels like a kid right now, heart skipping with each shared smile and laugh, but he can’t seem to shake it. The closeness of walking side by side with you makes him almost giddy.

At one point, you nudge him with your elbow, a light-hearted challenge in your eyes as you try to keep a straight face. “So,” you say, feigning seriousness, “ready to become cultured?”

He rolls his eyes, laughing as he nudges you right back. “Please.”

Seokmin steps into the museum lobby with you by his side, wandering across the high ceilings and polished floors. There’s almost a sacred quietness to the place, the kind that makes every sound seem amplified, even the shuffle of your footsteps. 

You hand him a ticket that you get from the booth, brushing his hand lightly, and he tries to hide his smile, hoping you don’t notice the faint flush that blooms in his cheeks. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous; he always is around you, but he never knows why. Somehow today, he’s more nervous than other days. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, or maybe it’s just you—standing there beside him, glancing around with the same sort of wide-eyed curiosity that makes him want to see everything through your eyes.

The two of you wander through the galleries, pausing in front of each painting and sculpture, taking your time. Every so often, you glance at him to see his reaction to something particularly strange or fascinating, and catch him already looking back, smiling at your expressions just as much as he is admiring the art.

“Do you think they meant to paint it like this?” you ask, leaning closer to a particularly loud modern piece that’s all bright, chaotic lines. Your voice is soft, as though you’re afraid of disturbing the tranquility.

Seokmin leans closer, squinting as if trying to unravel some secret meaning, though he hasn’t a clue what he’s looking at. “Maybe they were just… feeling inspired,” he replies, lips quirking with a grin he can’t suppress.

“Or maybe they dropped their paintbrush,” you add, matching his grin.

The sound of your laughter echoes slightly in the otherwise silent gallery, and for a moment, he’s aware of how close you’re standing. The space feels smaller, and though there are other visitors around, it feels for a moment like the museum is yours alone. You move on to the next painting, your eyes bright with curiosity, and he follows, longing to shorten the distance once more. 

He notices a stray piece of hair that’s slipped from behind your ear, and without thinking, he lifts a hand to tuck it back. But at the last second, he hesitates, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder as he pulls his hand back, a shy red spreading over his complexion. You don’t seem to notice, lost in thought as you step closer to the next painting, tilting your head to take it all in.

At one point, you point out a painting of a starry sky, something dreamlike. “Imagine being under a sky like that,” you murmur, almost to yourself, your gaze soft and wondrous as you look at the canvas.

More and more often throughout the visit to the museum, Seokmin finds himself staring at you instead of the exhibits. On this specific one, he can’t seem to look away from your face, your expression so captivated, as if you’re somewhere far away.

“Maybe one day we can find a place like that,” he says softly, almost not meaning to say it aloud. When you turn to look at him, a bit surprised, he clears his throat, pretending to be suddenly very interested in reading the placard beside the artwork.

Seokmin finds himself feeling almost weightless, caught up in the dizzying whirlwind of his own thoughts for a minute. There’s something about you—something he can’t quite put a name to—that makes him feel like he’s constantly walking on a tightrope, and with each step, he’s leaning a little further in, a step closer to letting go of the balance he’s tried for so long to keep.

You whisper an eager “come on,” and grab his sleeve to drag him further into the maze of galleries. 

As you wander into a room filled with ancient statues, he catches you examining one with a particularly serious expression. “Thinking of getting one of these for your place?” he teases. 

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Only if you help me carry it,” you reply, and he finds himself grinning again.

Soon, you reach a new room, filled with work from the Renaissance, each painting rich with detail and vibrant colors that have held their vibrancy for centuries. You lean in slightly, admiring the delicate brushstrokes, and Seokmin watches you, his gaze drifting from the artwork to the fascinated look in your eyes—possibly for the hundredth time today. 

“I feel like I’m supposed to be having some deep, life-changing revelation right now,” he whispers by your ear, half-joking.

“Who says art has to be that serious? Sometimes, it’s just… pretty.”

You’re just pretty. 

As you move through the quiet museum halls together, Seokmin catches himself watching you again, realizing just how pretty you look in the warm glow of the exhibit lights. It’s not the first time he's felt this way; he remembers the flutter in his chest when you’d gone to the beach, and the way his thoughts had lingered a little too long on the curve of your smile. He watches as you lean a bit closer to a painting, eyes narrowing in focus, oblivious to his gaze. There’s a calmness to you here, the way you examine each piece as if it holds a secret, and he finds himself drawn to the little things: the way your fingers rest on your chin in thought, the faint lift of your brows when something catches your eye, and the gentle concentration in your expression.

He watches you for longer this time, taking advantage of the fact that you’ve busied yourself reading a plaque, and noticing things he hadn’t paid attention to before right now: today, your smiles linger a little longer, your laughter rings out just a bit brighter, and he finds himself captivated by these subtleties, like he's uncovering new pieces of you with each glance. When you look at him, eyes crinkling in a way he hadn’t dared imagine was just for him, his heart stirs, and he can’t shake the thought: Have you always been this lovely, or am I just starting to see it now? 

His mind drifts, painting scenes of possibilities—fleeting, half-formed images of laughter, of late nights talking, of small moments shared just between the two of you. Each image feels almost real, so vivid he can practically reach out and touch it.

There’s a spark in his chest, a sensation that’s both exhilarating and terrifying. Part of him wants to pull back, to reel himself in, a quiet warning in the back of his mind whispering not to get carried away like he had before. But he can’t help it; there’s something magnetic about this, about you, something that pulls him closer despite himself. 

He steals another glance at you, his heart racing as he does. You’re just looking at the art around you, as though this is any other day, but for him, it feels monumental. His thoughts get lost again, imagining what it might be like to hold your hand right now, to simply be beside you without any of this hesitation.

And then, you look at him and laugh, catching him staring, and his ears go red, a little embarrassed but somehow happy to be caught.

By the time you reach the last hall of artwork, the sun has started to set outside, casting a warm glow through the large windows. Seokmin watches as the light catches in your eyes, making them shine in a way that leaves him a little breathless. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you look around.

As you both step outside into the cool evening air, he catches your eye, intentionally this time, his smile small but genuine. “Thanks for coming here with me,” he says, his voice soft, almost shy.

“Anytime,” you reply, and the word feels like a promise. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

The night starts with laughter and neon lights as Seokmin leads you through the bustling street to the karaoke room, his two friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, trailing just behind and rambling on about something indiscernible. The place is lively, bursting with music from rooms down the hall, each one echoing snippets of songs and off-key shouts. 

Seokmin can’t help but beam when he sees how easily you fall into conversation with his friends, joining in their jokes and even taking a dig at Seungkwan when he hypes himself up as the “true vocal talent” of the group. Having heard Seokmin sing just a few weeks back, you couldn’t help but feel defensive on his behalf. 

Once everyone’s settled, drinks start flowing freely. The first few songs are cautious, each of you easing into the familiar, buzzing rhythm of karaoke night. But as the night goes on, any sense of shyness melts away in the glow of pulsing lights and laughter.

Seokmin watches with undeniable fondness as you and Seungkwan bicker over song selections, and he tries not to grin too widely when he catches you belting out the lyrics with Soonyoung during a duet. 

At some point, he notices how naturally you fit with his friends—the way you make Seungkwan laugh with a remark about his questionable song choices, or how you nod along enthusiastically as Soonyoung gives a dramatic toast, proclaiming you as “one of them now.” For Seokmin, it’s everything he hadn’t realized he wanted: his closest friends getting along with you.

As the night hums along, Seokmin picks up the microphone, sending you a lopsided, slightly tipsy smile that makes your heart flutter before selecting a song. His choice surprises you—it’s one of those classic ballads that’s probably too high for anyone but the original singer to sing. The melody starts slow, and his voice flows soft and easy, but with a control that reminds you just how talented he really is. You practically feel your admiration soar, and as you watch him, his hazy, glossed over eyes settle on you. 

Every so often, he adds a bit of exaggerated flair, trying to coax a laugh out of you, playfully stretching out the notes or adding dramatic hand gestures to match the lyrics. It’s impossible not to smile, and you feel yourself relax as his antics draw you in. The song suddenly feels a little less serious, a little more fun, as he throws in a wink here, a knowing grin there.

As he finishes, you clap, unable to hide your smile. "You know," you say, a little breathless, "it’s honestly unfair that you’re this good."

He laughs, cheeks pink from both the praise and the drinks. “What can I say? Talent just comes naturally,” he jokes, a little bolder, that playful gleam returning to his eyes. Then he looks at you, his expression softening. “How about we do one together?”

“Oh no,” you protest with a laugh, shaking your head, “I can’t follow that.”

“Come on,” he coaxes, handing you a microphone and grabbing you by your hand to pull you to your feet,  “I’ll sing the verses, you can handle the chorus. It'll be easy.”

With a mix of reluctance and excitement, both of which mix together with the alcohol in your system, you take the mic, scrolling through songs until you settle on something you both know—The music starts, and the two of you exchange a grin before starting.

At first, you both sing a little awkwardly, tipsy laughter interrupting every other line as you stumble over the lyrics and try not to trip over each other’s parts. But as the song goes on, you find a rhythm, and every so often, Seokmin leans into the mic to harmonize with you, his voice blending with yours. By the end, you’re both laughing, the microphones forgotten as you clutch your sides and stumble around, out of breath and giddy.

Seokmin looks at you, eyes bright, face flushed, smile so wide that you could count his teeth if you wanted to. He reaches out, touching your hand ever so lightly, his fingers warm and steady. “You did amazing,” he says, voice soft, his smile a little shy despite everything.

“Likewise,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you that’s more than just the drinks. And as you both sit there, you realize that there’s other people in the room. 

Before you even have time to catch your breath, Soonyoung jumps up, grabbing the microphone. “Move over!” he declares with a grin, completely ignoring the indignant look Seungkwan shoots at him as he stands up to join him. “It’s duet time for real now.”

Seungkwan, rolling his eyes, snatches the other mic and leans in with a smirk. “Prepare yourselves. You two are about to be outshined.” He cues up a song with exaggerated flair, and the upbeat tune starts, loud and impossible to take seriously as they start belting the opening lines completely off-time.

“They’re usually better than this,” Seokmin tells you, “especially Seungkwan. I think it’s the alcohol.” 

You laugh as you watch the pair start to coordinate with each other, finally managing to sing to the beat of the song. 

“It’s good!” You argue, “Are you all just super talented?” 

Seungkwan’s voice suddenly cuts through, loudly. “Hey! I can’t hear myself over you two!” He shoots you both a look, his mock glare breaking into a grin as Soonyoung pulls him back to belt out the chorus.

Seokmin shakes his head, laughing as he leans in closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “I warned you about them, didn’t I?” he says, his voice soft, he’s close enough that you feel his breath beside you, gaze lingering as he speaks. He’s a little past the point of tipsy, cheeks and nose slightly flushed, but somehow the hazy glow of the karaoke lights makes him look even softer, easier to smile at.

You giggle, feeling a little light-headed yourself, but whether it’s from the drinks or the warmth radiating between the two of you, you’re not entirely sure. Your eyes subconsciously bat at him as they trace his features, tugging at his heartstrings as Soonyoung and Seungkwan sing with wild abandon in the background.

Seokmin’s arm rests casually on the back of the booth behind you. “You know,” he murmurs, leaning just a bit closer, “I’m glad you’re here.”

The words are simple, but somehow they send a warmth spreading through you, making the whole room seem to slow down. “Me too,” you say, a little shy but meeting his gaze, feeling that same unspoken something settle around you.

Then, somewhere between another toast and Soonyoung’s next drink, things start to get a little fuzzy for him. Soonyoung has, predictably, taken things a bit too far, eyes glazed as he sways to the music, occasionally belting out lyrics that don’t match the song on screen. Seungkwan sighs knowingly, standing and giving Seokmin a helpless shrug. “I’m taking him home before he tries to start chugging Soju.” He nods at you, adding with a smirk, “Good luck with this one.” And then, with a wave, they’re gone, leaving the two of you in the dimly lit room, half-empty drinks scattered on the table.

Alone with you now, Seokmin’s pulse races, the soft glow of tipsiness making him feel both bold and nervous. The room feels quieter, somehow more intimate, with just the two of you here. He reaches for the remote, scrolling through song choices, trying to keep his eyes on the screen and not on the way you’re leaning back on the couch, your gaze drifting over to him with a glint he can’t quite decipher.

“Do you want to pick the last one?” he asks, his voice a little more shy than he intended.

You smile, shrugging casually, but he doesn’t miss the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Only if you promise not to laugh if I butcher it.”

He grins, feeling his own face warm. “I make no promises,” he teases. But there’s something in his gaze—a hint of anticipation that he can’t quite hide, even if he tries.

As you start singing, he watches, captivated by the way you let loose, tipsy confidence making you bolder. The words are a little off-key, your voice rising and falling with the tempo, but to him, it’s perfect. When you’re finished, he can’t help but clap, cheering as if he’s at a concert.

“You sounded amazing,” he says, his voice softer than the playful bravado he’d intended. He feels a little too exposed under your gaze, a little too aware of just how close you’re sitting. 

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply with an exaggerated bow, but your eyes linger on his a little longer than they should, and the tension between you feels thick, heavy with possibility. 

He clears his throat, laughing nervously. “You’re going to put me out of a job with that voice.” But his words sound almost sincere.

There’s a lull in the conversation, a quiet beat where neither of you says anything, just looking at each other, the warmth of the drinks and the moment settling over both of you. You move a little closer, your knee brushing against his, and Seokmin swears he feels his heart stutter.

“Seokmin,” you say, voice barely a whisper, eyes bright with that boldness that only alcohol can provide.

“Yeah?” His voice comes out breathier than he intended, and he has to resist the urge to reach for your hand.

You smile, almost shyly, but there’s a warmth in your gaze that reassures him. “Thanks for inviting me tonight. I had… a really great time.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. His hand, almost on instinct, drifts a little closer to yours, his fingers brushing against your knuckles.

As you step out of the karaoke bar, the cool night air feels refreshing, and Seokmin falls into an easy rhythm beside you. The streets are quiet, the lights soft and glowing, casting a warm hue on everything around you. He insists on walking you home, and you can see a bit of that familiar determination in his expression—a mix of sweetness and subtle nerves, the kind that makes him even harder not to smile at.

The two of you talk softly as you walk, laughter spilling into the night as you recount moments from earlier, but the conversation drifts into a quiet calm. Seokmin feels a little tipsy, though he knows it’s not solely the drinks making him feel this way. It’s the warmth in your laugh, the way your gaze lights up when you look at him. Everything feels a little brighter, softer, like the world’s colors are blurring into a hazy glow.

Eventually, you pause, looking over at the buildings below the hill you’ve climbed, and above them, the faint sparkle of stars cutting through the city’s glow. Seokmin stops beside you, following your gaze, but when he looks back down, it’s not the skyline he’s mesmerized by. It’s you, standing there with that quiet, contemplative look in your eyes.

At that moment, he’s overwhelmed. Something about this night, this moment, feels like a dream—one he’s afraid might slip away if he blinks too long. He wants to say something, to tell you how lovely you look standing there, bathed in city lights. He can feel his heart pounding. He’s been trying to find the right words for some time now, something that could capture the feeling building up in his chest when he’s with you. He’s not sure if it’s the night, the laughter still echoing in his mind, or just the way you’re looking up at the sky. Before he can overthink himself out of it, he takes a breath and speaks, his voice just a little unsteady. “You know… you look beautiful right now.”

It’s the first time he’s said something so openly to you, and he can feel his cheeks heat up the second the words are out. You turn to him, a bit taken aback, your eyes wide with surprise before a smile slowly spreads across your face, soft and a little shy.

The moment stretches between you, and for once, he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with laughter or play it off. He’s content just looking at you, watching that glow in your eyes as his words settle in. 

A soft laugh escapes you, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down for a second before glancing back up at him. “I was going to say the same about you.”

He can’t help but laugh, his own nervousness melting away a little. You both stand there, caught in the gentle pull between you, feeling a little bolder, a little lighter.

When you start walking again, his hand brushes against yours, and this time he doesn’t pull away, letting his fingers linger close enough that if you reached out, they’d intertwine. It’s a simple gesture, but it says everything he’s been holding back, and as you walk together through the quiet streets, he knows something has shifted.

The stone path thuds beneath your footsteps, clumsy and unsteady as you both navigate the uneven terrain, sharing quiet laughter over your shared lack of coordination. Seokmin, glancing down, suddenly stops.

"Look!" he says, his finger pointing at a small penny on the ground, glinting faintly in the light. “What’s this doing all the way out here? Take it. For good luck.”

You shake your head, amused, and explain, “It’s only good luck if it’s face up when you find it.”

“Ah.” Seokmin considers this, then immediately drops into a crouch, carefully flipping the coin over so Lincoln’s head is proudly facing the sky. He straightens up with a grin as if he’s just accomplished something important.

“What’d you do that for?” you ask, your tone laced with affection.

“Now someone else can have good luck,” he replies.

You feel something warm tug at you in response, watching him as he stands there, content with his small gesture of kindness.  Suddenly, you see very clearly the kind of person Lee Seokmin is. It’s so like him—turning even the smallest, most mundane thing into something significant. As he begins walking ahead, you linger just a moment, looking back at the coin on the ground, then up at him.

You don’t move to follow him. Seokmin halts, slightly startled, his gaze questioning as he glances at you. But before he can ask why, you step closer, closing the space between you. You’re both quiet, caught in a bubble of giddy anticipation, his eyes searching yours, wide with surprise. And then, without a word, you reach up, resting a hand lightly on his chest, and lean in.

The moment your lips meet his, it’s like everything else falls away, replaced by a feeling that’s as soft as it is electric. He lets out a small, breathless laugh amidst his shock, hands stuck to his sides as your mouth presses to his.

When you pull back, you find him grinning, a little dazed, his eyes bright with surprise. Then he closes the space again, meeting your lips in another kiss, quick but more eager, like he’s savoring the feeling.

And then another. His hand drifts to your waist, drawing you in just a little closer each time your lips meet, each kiss growing a little bolder, a little sweeter, until the space between you disappears entirely. By the fourth kiss, his fingers have settled at the small of your back, warm and sure, and this time he lingers, letting the kiss deepen. It’s slow, unhurried, something unknown flooding through him as he feels your hand slide up to cup his cheek, tilting his face toward you so you can taste his mouth with ease.

You both feel a little unsteady, leaning into each other for balance, your hands anchoring each other as the world spins quietly around you. His heart races, thrumming against yours, and there’s a shy smile on his face when he finally pulls away, keeping his forehead close to yours, his eyes searching yours, dazed and happy and overcome with affection.

“I… I wasn’t expecting that,” he says, his voice a little unsteady but full of quiet excitement.

“I wasn’t planning it,” you admit, your cheeks flushed, but you don’t pull away, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, you both just stand there, eyes locked, breaths mingling in the cool night air, as if tethered to each other by an invisible string. Then, without thinking, you lean back in, your lips finding his once more. This time, there's no hesitation, no pause, just a shared need to be close—as close as possible. His hands tighten at your waist, pulling you in with a touch that’s both careful and desperate, as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

He lets out a quiet laugh against your lips, a sound that’s soft and breathless. It makes you laugh too, and you pull back for a moment, catching your breath, only to find his lips chasing after yours again. There’s something almost frantic in the way you keep returning to each other, like you’re both overwhelmed by the discovery of this closeness, unable to let it end just yet.

His hand moves gently to the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel the tenderness in his touch, in the way he’s holding onto you. 

His voice is barely a whisper, warm and a little breathless. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His words, shy and sincere, only pull you closer. Hand in hand, you start walking, the quiet night around you filled only by the soft sounds of your steps. He keeps his grip loose, fingers intertwined with yours, thumb brushing along the side of your hand as if he can’t bear to let go ever again. You walk in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering touches, both of you stealing glances, unable to stop smiling.

Every so often, he pauses, as if some thread is tugging him back to you. He leans in to press a brief kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw, reeling over the way your eyes flutter closed from the feeling, and before you know it, his lips are back on yours. You laugh against his mouth, feeling both light-headed and grounded in a way that’s wholly new and otherworldly. He pulls back with a grin, his eyes crinkling, looking both bashful and thrilled, like he can’t believe this is real. You’re unreal, you have to be. A fabrication of his imagination, so delicate, so perfect, so you. 

As you continue walking, his arm slips around your shoulders, drawing you closer to his side. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, and the quiet contentment that settles over you feels as natural as breathing. When he stumbles slightly, you catch him, and he grins sheepishly, pulling you close again in a half-hug that turns into yet another kiss.

“I might never get home at this point,” You say breathlessly.

“Would that be so bad?” Each word is mumbled into your mouth as his fingers weave into your hair, holding the back of your neck and letting his tongue shyly lick your bottom lip. 

The hum that you let out, either as a response to his rhetorical question or his tongue now moving against yours, makes his head spin. Your nails, raking down his chest over the material of his shirt, your hips pressing to his—it’s all too much and at the same time, not enough. 

The closer you get to your doorstep, the slower your steps become, as if prolonging the walk will somehow stretch this night just a little further. Every so often, Seokmin pulls you close, and you laugh as he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss you again, each one deeper and more unhurried than the last. 

Neither of you speak, as if words would break the fragile spell cast over the night. Instead, you stand there, wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft, dizzying kisses that grow lazier, more lingering. 

There’s a pause, a beat of hesitation, as he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes warm and soft, and he murmurs, “I should probably let you go.” But even as he says it, his hand remains on your cheek as if he’s not quite ready to leave.

“Probably,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his, but neither of you moves. It takes a moment, maybe two, before he reluctantly lets out a quiet laugh and pulls away, his hand slipping from your cheek to squeeze your hand, holding onto you just a moment longer. He gives you one last look, filled with a warmth and tenderness that leaves you breathless.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asks softly, already a few steps down the hall, as though he’s hoping for just one more promise to look forward to.

“Soon,” you reply, his gaze lingering on you as he walks away. You watch him go, the warmth of his kisses still lingering, the last few moments of the night settling over you as you turn to head inside, feeling light, tipsy, and wonderfully, utterly alive.

[click here to continue]

[little-worm-grant]

How They Loved You

Moonboys x You (Reader)

730 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Who fell in love with you first? How do they behave around you? Some ramblings of how each of the alters likes to love you.

Warnings: No smut but suggestive.

Dedicated to @lunaselena - ♥

Steven thought it the moment he met you. The way you talked. The way you smiled at him. How kind you were. Didn’t show him any sign of being sick of his rambling. He was smitten. Didn’t take him long to blurt it out. He wanted to please you in every way he could think of. He learned fast. Intuitive towards you. Empathetic to your needs. He listened. Searched for ways to gently push buttons he never knew existed before you.

Simply having you existing gave him all the motivation he needed to try and make you happy. You let him explore and find his confidence. In turn, he’d find ways to surprise you. Always with that dopey grin on his face and that eagerness like you wouldn’t believe.

He’d be the one that’d spend a whole movie massaging your back. Cuddling or staring at you that little bit longer or until he couldn’t any more. He’s easily flustered and still bashful at times. Eyes quickly cast away as you strip the last of your clothing. His gaze would always return.

Once he was comfortable in your space? He’d be sneaking up to try and surprise you. Playful in his kisses and bites against you. Knowing exactly what he was doing but feigning innocence. More giggly in his flirting and teasing. Checking in when he can to make sure everything he’s doing and you’re doing is okay. He’d worship the ground you stood on if he could.

Sure, he liked you for a while, but it took Marc getting to know you before it came down hot and heavy. Suddenly there was no air to breathe unless it was yours. You were his thoughts day and night. He needed all his time with you. Felt he was missing out anytime the others were with you instead of him.

Years would pass and he’d still be the same way. Utterly devoted. Not loud in his affection or words like the others sometimes were, but he made sure you knew he loved you. Gentle in all the right ways. Rough in the ways you both needed. He’d be the one doing the most to make sure you were cared for. Feed you. Drag you into baths and showers with him. Pull you into his arms to nap with him.

Marc loves you and only you. You’re more important to him than himself. He’d be the kind to burn the world down just to keep you safe. He’d kill for you. He’d be the most unstable if you left. A kind of obsessiveness he knows can’t be healthy but can’t help himself.

Took the longest time for him to express his feelings. Even if he felt it, he never expected it to be reciprocated. Marc’s good at putting on a show of being stoic and decisive. Deep down he still felt undesirable, like he wasn’t worth you. How lucky he was to have such a person to orbit around. You were his sun. His planet. And all the stars around him.

Took him the longest to come around to the idea of loving you. Told yourself it was because he wasn’t out much and when he was he’d tried to avoid you and the others. Too used to his own bubble. Worried you’d hurt him if you got the chance. By being in constant proximity to the others, you caught glimpses of him. And in those glimpses, you seemed to like what you saw.

Jake’s moment of falling in love wasn’t hard and fast like Steven’s, or hot and heavy like Marc’s. It was an “awww fuck. Shit.” Kind of moment. Him standing there rubbing his gloved hand over his face because he realizes he really does care about this spicy little dumbass. You drive him crazy and he couldn’t understand until now why he wants you to keep doing that.

He wants to excite you. Take you out to see and do things you’ve probably never seen or done before. Enjoys the company in those long drives he loves to take. You catch him off guard with being okay he’s more his own person. He likes to be around and indispensable to others. Likes that you like seeing him like that. Marc’s bold, but Jake can be bolder. He’s possibly a little more on the competitive side. Isn’t one to back down.

[hotxcheeto]

Hey, horny anon here lol ! I hope you’re doing well !

May I request a vi x female reader smut where they’re both so horny that they almost start having sexe in a public place and finished it somewhere more private with vi being a dom ?

Thank you soooo much for your amazing writing !!

━ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Vi x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, public sex, v fingering ( r! receiving ), kissing, biting, light descriptions of c*m, make out sesh, mentions of discomfort, dom!vi, sub!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - wowzers this took me forever, ty sm!! ily!!

REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!

"They're watching..."

You whispered against her lips, bouquet halfway falling on the ground, hanging by a threat in your grasp as she kissed you over and over. Her lips running down then up, sucking and biting bits of your neck wherever she desired.

"Let 'em." She muttered, peaking from the corner of her eye at the boys that had been staring you down earlier that day. Their faces in slight shock and even disappointment. Trying not to look while their faces turned red from frustration and their eyes rolled.

They'd been watching you pick out the flowers from the stand while Vi handed the vendor the money. Such an awful assumption that she'd been just a friend, truly, because Violet was far from a mere everyday acquaintance you'd meet up with.

"But-" She cut you off by kissing you, smirking against your mouth when you let out a gasp, reciprocating almost immediatley. Her hands were on your hips while one of yours was placed firmly on her chest, the other trying to keep the petals from scraping the cement.

She tasted like alcohol, the same drink she'd bought earlier in the day when you stopped at your bartending job to grab your forgotten jacket from the day prior. It was a new menu item, a fruity kind you wanted her to try.

You were very glad for it now.

"Feels good..." You whispered, chasing her lips when she pulled back a bit. "Yeah?" She hummed, hand dancing down to the button on your jeans. "Not here." You looked at her, suddenly very worried and very much filled with a plea for privacy.

"Relax, cupcake, I wasn't gonna." She pulled you forward by your waistband, nodding to the alleyway just a little ways down. "But I will once they aren't fucking looking."

You hesitated when the offer arose, looking at the alley before the thump, thump, thump of your arousal made you give in. Looking at her with a pouty lip and a look that screamed you were ready to be taken care of.

"Really fast okay?" You asked, watching her nod her head and grab at the back of your neck. "No promises, pretty girl." "Vi..."

You dragged her name as she pulled you behind a tower of boxes, blocking your view of the road, and the view of you from the former.

"What about my flowers?" You huffed, feeling her take them from your hand before you even got to turn around. The bouquet nicely sat on top of a box, and by the time you were looking back at her, your button was undone and your zipper was between her fingers.

"Violet-" Your head lolled up, catching her lips as your jeans shimmied down your thighs exposing your pretty panties to her. And only her.

"Look at that..." She nipped your jaw, pressing her forehead against her own while looking down at your lower half. "So pretty, sugar."

Vi met your eyes, hand slipping in and over your cunt, the tips of her fingers brushing your wetness as your small breaths fanned her face.

"Can I?" You nodded your head, grip wrapping around her wrist as a finger just barely brushed over your clit making you whine. You wanted more, not caring who could walk into the one way alley, only caring that she still wasn't moving how you wanted her to.

"Please Vi..." You whispered, her digits soon circling around your clit slowly. Kisses running down your neck while she inched closer and closer to your hole.

"I need to hear you say it." She spoke quietly, looking down at where her hand disappeared into your pants. "I wanna hear what you want, Y/n." Rarely did your actual name pass her lips, opting for more sensual options, usually.

"I want your fingers inside me-" The sentence barely got to pass your lips when she entered you, mouth falling agape and grip tightening on her arm. "Oh-"

The sounds of chatting were muffled, the dudes from earlier forgotten. You felt the way her fingers ran against your walls again and again while the rest of your hand sloppily bumped your clit here and there.

You subconsciously spread your legs, her other arm keeping you balanced against the brick wall. Though, all you could focus on was the way she reached deep inside, her fingers long but thick. Two was enough...

..but then came a third.

"I- I can't-" She ignored you though, only silently nodding her head, her nose bumping your own as she softly whispered sweet things to you. Things you could barely hear over your quiet cries, trying your hardest to be quiet even though you knew the people walking by were far too loud and too uncaring to hear or investigate the sounds.

"Feels good... oh-" Your head dug into the cement bricks, ignoring the discomfort and instead digging your nails into her pale skin. "Faster, please Vi.." Vi nodded again, kissing the spot between your eyebrows while moving her hand in out at a pace that caused a light wet sound to meet your ears.

You felt so nasty, all exposed without a care, humping into her hand wanting nothing but release. And they way her hand just kept nudging your little bundle of nerves brought you closer and closer. You couldn't look her in the eye, looking everywhere but at her.

Your favorite, was watching her hand.

Her other hand gripped your other leg, taking you off guard. You nearly yelled at the deeper angle, clenching your teeth and crying out to her, finally seeing the way her pupils grew at the sight of your trapped nature. You had nowhere to go, only taking what she was giving you without even a complaint.

"M'gonna-" "I know, cupcake."

You let it happen, you wanted it. Moaning and bucking towards her fingers. Clawing at her, begging for her to keep going, then to stop. You felt it everywhere, you felt her everywhere as you came. Legs giving out beneath you,

but she wasn't going to let you fall.

"Think they're still there?" Vi asked, your mind hazy and as heavy as fluff. You could barely hear her let alone process what she was saying with her digits still deep inside your cunt. Cum leaking from your hole and onto her flesh, that's what you were thinking about.

"I dunno..." You muttered, earning yourself a kiss on the cheek, and then another and another. You giggled, her hand coming out from your pants and moving to her mouth to suck them clean.

"That's gross..." She smirked at your words, shrugging her shoulders while reaching for the discarded bouquet. "Cleaner than that wall you're still leaning on."

She neglected to tell you how good you actually tasted while licking her lips.

[kiame-sama]

Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, somnophilia flavored, dirty talk, objectification, obsessed yandere, slight corruption kink, small spoilers for Astarion's worst kept secret, blood, biting kink, mention of Astarion's past, gender neutral reader, neutral good reader (folk-hero type), opposites attract, spoilers for game opening, slight spoilers for possible non-combatant followers, owl-bear cub named Hootsie (if you know what this name is from, I like your taste in media), adult themes, mention of nsfw topics,

~~~~~~~~

How could this have happened to him? Of all people, Astarion was no chivalrous rube unlike the odd being he found himself following the command of. Truly, he didn't understand just how he wound up a follower to someone who put others before themselves. The damned tadpole in his brain being the only reason he would stand to be near someone so annoyingly virtuous... or so he tells himself.

Truth was, though he didn't like the mundane and menial tasks he found himself doing for the betterment of others, he did actually like the goody-two-shoes he followed the lead of. They were... hells, how to describe them?

Almost every choice was made to help someone against unfair treatment or wrongful accusations. Each decision was weighed carefully on the moral scale and done with well-being in mind in almost every way. They were one of those folk-hero types who stood up for the little guy and extended help to those in honest need.

They were infuriating and annoyingly righteous. ...They were enchanting.

Astarion found himself practically crooning over them, especially during fights. Someone able to so ruthlessly kill and command others was truly an impressive character. From the strategy and careful thinking to the quick and merciless endings, Astarion barely kept himself from swooning.

Even beyond the battlefield, he noticed little things they did that made him practically melt. Those small habits and unconscious behaviors that they had making him smile ever so slightly whenever he noticed them. He wasn't staring or obsessing, mind you, just... observing.

What truly surprised him was what happened when he decided to push his luck and try to feed on them and their delectable blood. Despite how quietly he had approached them, they woke up right as he was going to sink his fangs into their neck. Even though he knew he was likely about to be slain, he still tried to stand up for himself and justify his actions. Much to his surprise and genuine delight, the defacto leader did not stake him in the heart, choosing instead to speak with that same calm timbre and hear him out.

It was then they did something he swore would have made his heart flutter if it still had a beat. They told him that he was welcome to feed on their blood- within reason- and asked him to feed from them whenever he felt the thirst coming on too strongly. It was a kindness he had never expected from someone, and he agreed that feeding on (y/n) was better than trying to feed on any of the other companions they traveled with.

Since then, Astarion would feed on animals or enemies mostly, but always kept enough room in his stomach to feed on (y/n) at night. Something about their blood made him shiver in delight and the taste drove him to crave more and more. It was as if his dear (y/n)'s blood called to him and crooned sweet nothings into his mind.

He would never take more than offered, of course, but there were evenings where he was quite tempted to take more. Not more blood, but more of (y/n).

Sex was a good way to burn off steam and was good enough with almost anyone, but the thought of passionate sex with (y/n)... oh, it was simply delicious. He had propositioned once or twice, but the subtlety in how he asked seemed to make the true meaning of his words go right past them. They either didn't reciprocate or truly did not understand the delicate way he approached the matter and so thought he was talking about something else. He knew he would have to be more straightforward with them in the future about his desire for their blood and body, but for now he would satisfy himself however he could.

It was late in the evening and the others were fast asleep as he approached his beloved on silent feet. Their faithful dog- Scratch- and the aptly named owl-bear cub Hootsie were snoozing back to back on the other side of the camp, so they shouldn't interrupt him.

As Astarion leaned over the kindly ally, he couldn't help but reach up to slowly trail his fingers over their soft cheek. They looked absolutely scrumptious laying there with an unbothered expression, their breathing soft and quiet. Though he was thirsty and quite ready for a drink, he held himself back in favor of marveling over his precious little hero.

To think, some morally-righteous nobody had entangled his unbeating heart and enamored him so much he even considered charity. Charity for Hells sakes!

A soft whine escapes their lips as he slowly turned their head to the side, feeling a sense of pride when he saw the two puncture marks on the side of their neck where he fed from them regularly. Their blood was so pure and sweet, he could barely get by with the few tastes he would take every evening. Perhaps he had their heroic tendencies to thank for the extremely pure blood that he enjoyed feasting on.

He found himself so protective of their blood that any time they got hurt in battle, he could feel the rage pull at his mind and begin to consume him. As far as Astarion was concerned, all of (Y/n)'s blood belonged to him. Even one drop wasted was a drop he could have had, and the thought of their blood being so casually wasted like that... it set a fury in him.

Of course, after the battle he always offered to lick their wounds, but they seemed to think he was joking and laughed it off. What he wouldn't give to have them say 'yes' to his proposition and simply let him love on their wounds while going down on them.

Even at that moment, the warm scent of their body made bliss run through him as he decided to risk getting caught. He slowly moved their clothing so he could marvel at the exposed flesh of their stomach. With a light touch, he made sure to gently drag his tongue over their front, groaning to himself in response to their appetizing taste. All he wanted was to ravage them as they lay there and take it from him, but he still had plenty of self restraint.

"What I wouldn't give to cover you up in bites, Darling."

Astarion decided to stop pushing his luck when his thirst tugged at his self-control impatiently. He could always go back to helping himself after he got a drink from his favorite source.

Even though he had bitten them countless times over, he still felt a certain chill run through him at being able to sink his fangs in once more. The warm splash of blood against his tongue made an almost pathetic whimper escape his throat, greedily drinking down the flavorful ambrosia. All too soon, he had to pull away and staunch his desire for more until the next time he got to feed on his beloved.

"Don't worry, Dearest. I will make damn sure you can never get away from me no matter what. Then we can embrace as long as we wish. I'll rip the others to shreds for you, love. You'll never get to leave me."

[dqllgarden]

Hi sweetheart! I’d like to request a Ben Hargreeves x Reader shot please. You can change it however you’d like and I’d still thank you for it. Lovely stuff btw I already read what you’ve came up with. Was pretty good if you’d ask me. Whatever, here we go. I want a smut Ben fic with plot. The reader was with Umbrella!Ben first and was a dom! And now she is with Sparrow!Ben and they have a switch dynamic. I want her to be a switch and challenging. Have them fight but not seriously just for the tension ya know. And I want them to be soft afterwards. Prob something like “I loved you before, I love you now and I will love you even after death. As long as there is a Y/N in any universe she is gonna love her Ben every fucking time.” And Ben is just pathetic after hearing her. #WeLovePatheticMan lol. If it’s too much you can just do whatever you like and I will still read it. Please don’t forget to tag me. Baibai 🥰✌🏻

i’ll always choose you

ben hargreeves x reader

my first request!! yay :D i was so so so excited to write this because it’s such a well thought out idea and i hope i did it justice :) thank you @cherryinsalemverse !

side note, this was my first one in third person so i hope it’s okay lol

tags: smut, switch!ben, switch!fem!reader, choking, sparrow ben being a little jealous of y/n’s relationship with umbrella ben, cutesy shit at the end!

—

Being with Ben was always a walk in the park. He was kind, strong willed, and had such a loving heart. And Y/N loved the way he’d show up for her in more ways than one. He was someone she could talk to one rough days and dominate when talking didn’t work. Their sex life was anything but boring despite how sweet her Ben looked. Y/N would wait for Ben to get back from his missions just so she could take control over him and take care of him the way he needed. She’d slowly take off his uniform, rake her nails down his body and tease him until he was on the verge of tears needing more. It didn’t take much for her to cave, being just as needy for him. She’d fuck him until she was too exhausted to keep going or until he couldn’t take any more.

That changed in the new timeline though.

Her new Ben shared some of the same traits as her beloved Ben from the Umbrella Academy, but obviously he was… different. Sure he shared the same loving heart even if it was hidden beneath his asshole facade. Sure they fought, but it was never anything truly serious. It usually ended with them in bed, Ben on top of her, hand wrapped around her throat while she muttered out insults at him.

—

Today was like any other day, Ben coming back from a mission and Y/N sitting on their bed reading a book.

“You’re back quicker than I expected, love.” She sat down her book to look up at him.

“And you’re sad about that?” He rolled his eyes and took off his jacket.

“I mean yeah, I was enjoying my alone time.”

“Well I’m back,” Ben got onto the bed and grabbed her face to pull her into a kiss, “and I missed you, princess.”

Bens hand traveled down to her throat where he squeezed down, Y/N noticing a large cut on his hand cleaned up in a very sloppy manner. She took his hand off and sat up. “What happened to you?”

“It’s just a small cut it’s fi-“

“No. No, you need to be more careful next time,” Y/N said frantically. Something about seeing him hurt makes her go totally soft on him, wanting to make sure he’s okay and taken care of. Ben tried to go back to kissing her but she didn’t reciprocate. “What the fuck?” He asked, “come here babe.”

She only smiled at him before she got up and turned around to face him, only to push him back onto the bed and climb into his lap.

“Can’t you give me this just this once? I miss the way the old Ben let me take care of him after his missions.”

“Alright! Enough about him, okay?” His hands went to the back of his head as his eyes looked her up and down. “I get it, you liked him better.”

“It’s not about who I like better,” she muttered while unzipping his pants and taking hers off, “I just miss him sometimes. That’s all.” She lifted herself up, slowly lowering herself on Ben’s cock, one hand guiding it in and the other resting on his stomach. He tried to push into her faster but she held his hips down so he couldn’t. She wanted to be in control tonight.

“Can you please just- Y/N please I need you to move,” He’d cry when she’d do nothing but cockwarm him, trying to thrust into her. “You’re lucky I don’t flip you over and fuck you the way I want to.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Mr. Hargreeves?”

He smirked at her before grabbing her throat and flipping her into the bed with such force the wind was knocked out of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist with no hesitation as he began pounding into her. Y/N moaned around him, eyes rolled back in pleasure at the way he perfectly filled her up and hit every spot just the way she needed. His weight felt so good on top of her, pushing into her with just the right amount of pressure to make her cry in pleasure. Ben’s hand left her throat to feel her body, squeezing her tits and holding onto her waist while he leaned closer to mark up her neck.

“I’m gonna cum in you baby, ‘kay?” Ben whispered in a desperate voice in her ear as he fucked into her harder. His hand went down to play with her clit to help her finish too, milking his orgasm. Ben collapsed next to Y/N not caring that their clothes were messily scattered around the room and pulled the blanket over them. He looked at her and grabbed a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers.

“I was thinking about what you said,” Y/N let out a breath, “I don’t mean to compare you to him. You know I love you, right? Hell, I loved you in another timeline. You’re perfect for me and I’ll love you forever, in every universe, in every timeline. As long as I’m me, you will always be mine.”

Ben’s face softened and he pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead. “You’re so sweet. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I hope to find you in every timeline, my love.” He smiled at her before tangling his hands into her hair and falling asleep together.

[etherfabric]

How the Universe provides for you + Songs

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

You are the ultimate authority over your life. I merely provide my perspective. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does. Never give away your power.

Pile 1

Strength, 3 of Pentacles

You have loyal allies in your challenges. A lot of unforeseen inconveniences you can't seem to avoid are in your energy, but this time, you feel the support - be it physical incarnations of kindred spirits, or those from the other realm connected to you. Yes, your heart is pounding and your knees are shaking, and these instances definitely aren't what you would've put on your wish list in a million years - but you surprise yourself with your bravery amidst it all. You thrive in collaboration with likeminded people, even in the face of your antagonists. The Universe is sending you storms so you can see how well you build your structure, and feel like the badass boundary expert your past self dreamed they could be.

This was a test, and you passed with flying colors. All your hard inner work is tangibly paying off, and you feel elated and proud - rightfully so.

Pile 2

Queen of Pentacles, The Fool

You finally stopped caring so much. You figured out where (or with whom) you lose the energy you so desperately missed all this time, and despite the struggles of letting go, you are now light as a feather. But in contrast to the past, where you were simply too scared to attach fully, so what else is there to do but float... you can now fall back on and draw from the deep roots you grew in fertile ground. Nourishment tailored to your needs is in constant supply, and plenty of opportunities to extend that generosity onto are emerging on the horizon. But this time, you know what to look for to have it reciprocated.

There might be people you still deem generally lovable you had to leave behind, and trust that hearing their criticism or seeing the effect of your absence on them will never truly stop hurting - but you know your worth and needs better than ever, and are determined to ultimately look ahead to the promising future. The Universe provides for all, and not just through you.

Pile 3

7 of Wands, 7 of Pentacles

The Universe is fueling your fierce protector side. You respect your own time more than ever, and see the value of patience with yourself. Your vulnerability is no longer a source of shame, it has become your most precious inspiration. Outside disturbances can't faze you out of your serenity with your true self. You worked hard for where you are, and you are not letting anyone counterproductive get close to it. Take the various toxic coping mechanisms projected onto you as the compliments that they are - you trusted in your balance, followed what felt right, and are reaping the rewards, while others still cling to the very same mindset that starts itching once you are around.

You understand the delicate relationship between healthy aggression and egotistical overkill, and are a role model for those wanting to follow you. The blessings you have already received are shining brighter than ever, and it's only the beginning. Isn't it so worth it being seen as the bad guy? Your people love you for what you are doing for them. No one can take this away from you, because you know how to keep it - becoming more authentic every chance you get.

Pile 4

2 of Swords, The Hermit

I can imagine you clicking on this particular reading with a kind of scoff. "Oh yeah? Providing for me? I see fuck all." Dare I recommend to expand your understanding in which ways one can receive...? I see you clinging onto promises you kind of already know aren't very, well, promising. But for some reason you only want it that way, almost to try to prove a point no one even challenged you on. Your idea of what you need and what you want have no space for differences inbetween. This might not sound pretty or comforting - I feel awfully confrontational saying this to you actually, and my Cancer Mars is shaking like a leaf - but I see the Universe providing you with an ultimatum.

Drop the rope if you truly want happiness (and not just validation for how great all of your ideas are), or be stuck in the frustration eating away at you. Look at what you already have. Yes, it's not the ultimate dream, but you have to first step inside of you to be able to receive. Because inside of you is where you will feel the love that's on its way to you - not craning your neck out as far as you can, desperate for a crumb to roll by.

[g1rld1ary]

overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

[yandere-sins]

Hello! Another bg3 fan, your Ascendent!Astarion fic was delicious. I saw you mention yandere gale, and omg I'm losing my mind at the idea.

Man literally fell in love with a God, and yet somehow he found someone even more perfect.

Imagine being locked in the tower with him, resigned to your fate, and instead trying to play to his kind side. You'd rather he cast spells for minor things, like the sparkle light trick, rather than return to 24/7 Hold Person.

The man is a Archmage, I'm sure he would know a way to freeze you in place until you had agreed to behave.

I'm looking forward when/if you decide to follow through writing about him!!

Best wishes

-🌟

Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed the Astarion fic, and thank you for giving me a small idea for some Gale ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Gale didn't look up from his book until the moment he felt your hand reach out to the little sparks he sent from his fingertips over the armrest of his reading chair for you.

Turning his head away from the pages to look at your sprawled-out form on the floor next to his chair, he watched as you tried to reach for them, always just a second too late before they disappeared. Even if you caught one, they wouldn't have done you any harm, but he knew that his magic amused you, albeit just for a while. Still, he watched in awe as you passed your hand through the illusions, leaving glittering tails of magic in the air, the sight of you mesmerizing him.

You had been awfully silent while he was reading, the comfy lounge chair across from him empty as you decided to spend your time on the wooden floor instead. It was a comfort thing you once explained, although he didn't understand why you needed to hide between amenities and piles of books to feel comfortable at that moment. You two had long passed the stage of getting hurt by each other's words and one or the other lashing out, Gale's punishments sometimes sending you into a flight instinct that could only be resolved by hiding somewhere in his tower.

Yet, knowing you stayed by his side despite feeling like you needed to hide yourself, gratification went through every inch of his body.

Life was peaceful now. He got to love you, got to care for you. Even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings unconditionally, he had learned to live with your compliancy. It was so much better than your anger and outbursts. All the days spent crying and throwing things against each other, with you inevitably ending up in a holding spell or hurt and desperate, were over, and Gale never wanted to return to them.

Closing his book, Gale leaned over the armrest of his reading chair, resting his head on his arms and watching you lay there silently and expressionless, with only your eyes moving to meet his. Even this small gesture reminded him of why he loved you so much. He loved every second he got to spend with you locked in this tower. Every minuscule day that passed was filled with euphorical love. Every spell he showcased to you, every moment of intimacy and affection you two had was ingrained in his memory. There was no one Gale would ever love again like he did you. It was sheer impossible to ever feel the same heart-wrenching, downright sickening amount of affection he felt looking at you with anyone else.

You wouldn't leave him. You'd always be waiting for him, no matter what, never letting him down or abandoning him. Even if it wasn't willingly, you'd stay here with him until the end of both of your times. Even then, Gale hoped the gods would give him a boon for his devotion and unite you even in the afterlife.

"You're beautiful," he mused, eyes twinkling with affection. Yours had long lost their spark, but knowing you were alive was enough for him. "I love you so much."

"Do it again," you asked, ignoring his comment and pointing your index at his hand. "The sparks."

Unlatching his arm from under his head, Gale hovered it in front of you, summoning back the sparkles. Their flashing colors reflected so beautifully in your emotionless eyes that it almost made him tear up. You almost looked like you had before he took you with him to this tower and locked you up for his own selfish reasons. It reminded him of how he fell in love with you, which only made his heart swell more.

You reached up to inspect his hand, softly touching him like a cat, pawing at a toy, as you tried to see where the sparks came from and find out how he did the magic that eluded you. Gale would have loved to teach you all he knew about the magic he loved nearly as much as he did you if you weren't at risk of using it to hurt yourself or him. His dream was to join you in your magic, connecting to you on a level much deeper than just his love for you. But for now, he'd content himself with the feeling of your touch against his fingertips, every one of them making his heart jump and other parts of him uncomfortably tight as his mind raced with thoughts.

It's been too long since you touched him, your affection so sparse and selective. Who could blame Gale for being excited like a little boy on his birthday when you shared some of it with him?

"Mind if I join you down there?" he asked, his voice cracking as he tried not to sound too needy. You stiffened, your explorations stopping abruptly. Your gaze shot up to his face, and your expression twisted into disgust, seeing the light blush around his cheeks. You didn't want him to join you.

It wasn't a question, though.

You shrieked pitifully as you tried to get away, noticing the changes in him just a second too late. Towers of books collapsed around you, undoubtedly bruising you where they hit, but at the end of the day, he was the hunter and you the prey, and the years had worn you down, so your advantages against him had diminished. Gale had always taken what he wanted. Right after the fight against the mind flayers ended, he swore he wouldn't let anyone else but himself dictate his life ever again, and that included you.

Even when you shivered, trying to worm yourself out of his grip as he pinned you down, fear and disgust wretching your beautiful face into a grimace, everything about you screaming that you were unwilling to comply with his lust and desire, Gale simply had to have you. He'd never have enough of his curious little kitten, the one so easily amused by low-level spells that he'd produce for you all day long if they made you stay by his side. He'd never tire of your touch or the memories of your body against his, and it was time to make more of them, lasting him even on the days you didn't love him at all. Memories that would break you down if they had to, as long as it meant he would get what he wanted.

And what Gale always wanted was simple—you.

So as he smiled down at you, his eyes filled with the madness of a lonely wizard while his lips quivered in anticipation of a kiss, his grip only tightened, and the word that you hated the most escaped him before Gale could even realize what he was doing to you.

"Hold."

[cabinette]

A Chilshi Selkie AU I have been thinking about for a while. (by A While i mean like 3 hours)

assorted thoughts below ! (QUITE unorganised lol)

I like to think chilchucks already formed something of a surface life. and he's so so enthralled by things like beer and alcohol and indulgence but he has to deny himself of so many things because he's utterly convinced that no one will look at him the same if he reveals he's a selkie. he keeps a lock on his heart because. he LITERALLY has such an insane secret to keep

people think that he's just an ass who doesnt like talking about himself(or a closeted queer of some kind but you didnt hear that from me ;)) and it doesnt matter if he always leaves first when at the bar. it doesn't matter that he never seems to be anywhere but the beach. it doesn't matter because he's never going to tell you and you're never going to believe him

he's left behind the life he could have possibly lived in the ocean among his friends, his family, he's still in contact with them but…. He's more in touch with his facade than his selkie form. yknow ?

and now he's got this stupid man who found out everything he was trying to hide on, what, a silly little fishing trip? His life is going to be ruined ! (he's eating nice hot fish soup and feeling the warmth in his bones. he's experiencing the understanding and acceptance of a stranger. he can't paint himself as a bad person because somehow they already know he's just a sad, lonely selkie seeking companionship far above the shallows. and how his life is going to be "ruined" because this mackrel soup tastes so good and he doesn't know how he's going to hold himself back if this is how good it can be.)

Senshi's just a guy who goes fishing sometimes :-) And he's a struggler bcause he doesnt usually socialise- people joke about him being an ocean man, yknow? Never really leaves the sea, and so he's become sort of… isolated from the people he used to know. And you know, he has his reasonings. Incidents concerning his friends that happened far too long ago and guilt that spreads him too thin, but he still loves the sea. He still loves her for all her storms and her peace and her cruelty and her kindness. When you're a lonely man there's no better place to hide than the wide blue, you know ? So what happens when he meets someone who's so intrinsically connected to the sea, who's whole life is based around the sea?

Chilchuck knows the sea. knows how dangerous it can be and how to manoeuvre it. He doesn't necessarily love it but he's very in tune with it, he knows where the current is strongest and that you'll be swept away if you're not careful, but Senshi just loves the sea because... it's the sea. he helps fish that are stuck in rocks and he thinks. oh yeah. the sea is my friend. it may have caused him pain but he knows his way around it too. Only half-accepting the sad fact that the sea isn't yknow, a person but still a very much massive thing, a force to be reckoned with, and as he learns more about Chilchuck he too learns more about the sea, and having to sort of fully accept that he's never going to know it as a friend, or an acquaintance. His love for the ocean can never be staved but it can also. never be reciprocated.

guh. but even if the sea isnt his friend he can still feel the connections he makes. he can still learn and grow and and and and and anwlihsbdjk23wbearkudwhgjA#BEUKFJHGUKAEFH theres something THERE I CANT WORD IT!!! BIUT ITS THERE

[randomstoryenjoyer]

(It's fine if you don't want to do this but-)

Can. I please request a Pitaya, Ananas and Longan. Cookie with a dying reader in there hands who only smiled up at them telling them there last words to take care of themselves, stay safe, and not continue being(insert one of the dragon's flaw) and they love them and kissed hem before they went to the other side?

(PS: GN Reader and the fact Pitaya, Longan and Ananas Cookie is panicking about there S/O leaving them wanting to save them but fails)

“Please, Pitaya… take care of yourself, stay safe… and please don’t be so belligerent to everyone else anymore. Treat them with kindness like the one you treated me with… I love you”

This would be one of the few times Pitaya Dragon Cookie would shown any other emotion besides excitement, anger, or the unquenchable desire for a good fight. Ever since Pitaya Cookie had met their beloved, their original thoughts about weak little pieces of dough called cookies had started to change, though they couldn’t properly understand why their thoughts were being influenced so greatly ever since they had laid their eyes upon you. What Pitaya Dragon Cookie started understanding, however, was the feelings that they felt towards you specifically. They liked these feelings! They found themselves becoming attached to you like they never had to anybody else before, and your presence became even more endearing when you actually began to reciprocate their feelings as well! Life was greater than ever for them with you by their side, providing him with something else to look forward to besides endless sparring with anybody they wanted to.

But you can’t expect to last long in a relationship with the fearsome red dragon themselves…

Maybe the endless sweltering heat present within Pitaya’s lair finally caught up to you, maybe they got too careless in during one of their sparring matches and ‘trainings’, or maybe for some other reason at all that only you knew, Pitaya Dragon Cookie would yet again be reminded of how easily cookies crumble, and in the worst way possible this time.

The thought of you leaving them in such a horrid manner pained them deeply, Pitaya Dragon Cookie couldn’t control themselves as they refused to accept what was happening, the panicked tones of their voice sounding more unnatural than ever for someone like them. As you those painful yet truthful words slowly leave your mouth, their widened eyes meet yours, and the kiss you two share makes everything else feel non-existent for just that moment; Pitaya Dragon wished with al their heart that it wouldn’t end, just for the futile hope of you not leaving them so soon.

They promise right there and then to take your words to heart in a bid to ensure your final moment with them is a special one.

Their beloved deserves no less…

Ever since then, any cookies that visited the Dragon Valley and Pitaya Dragon Cookie’s lair would have meet a a dragon cookie that acted slightly different than the legends had described them. They were more pacified, often willing to calm down when needed, and the odd sentiment of longing for something missing was always present around their every move.

Without their endless belligerence, Pitaya Dragon Cookie’s life took a different turn after their loss of you. But it was a price they’d always be more than willing to pay if it meant honouring your last words!

“Please, Ananas… take care of yourself, stay safe… and please don’t be so self-absorbed anymore. Treat others with the same care you treated me with… I love you”

In this moment, themselves would be the dead last thing Ananas would dare to think about. Their focus stolen by you and you only, their entire being shaky as they kneeled besides you, and their mighty, proud voice reduced to a hushed tone.

Their beloved had been an essential part of Ananas’s pride. Though they were often too focused on keeping up their“holier-than-thou” image, they still always cared about his you as much as all their other treasures, maybe even more so. Their islands were your home right next to their side, and they were content with living out their days with the cookie than truly made them feel like the mighty, high being they knew they were

So why was this happening? Why was their most precious treasure of all being torn away from them like this?

They were more than ready to do anything within what their vigour and riches allowed them to do in order to save your untimely demise. But much to their dismay, they knew that it didn’t matter whether what was affecting you was a disease, fatal wound, or even something like a nasty curse; everything they tried had failed, no matter what their position as a dragon allowed them to do or achieve.

In a sense, it’s as if losing you was them being humbled. He saw himself as one of the most superior cookies cookies in Earthbread, yet in this very moment he was as powerless as the feeble cookies below him.

Anger turns into sombreness as his hands hold you close to his scales in your final moments before you go to the other side…

Ananas’s benevolence over the Pineapple Isle’s inhabitants and visitors would increase by tenfold since that fateful day, except for defilers, of course. Cookies who found themselves in trouble or in need of help near their lands would now be graced with the endless assistance of the prideful yet considerate golden figure that passed in the sky more often than ever before, increasing the joy of all who were amongst their mighty presence, but only a few handful of cookies would only ever know the reason why.

Though whether the dragon’s new behaviours were simply a sign of respect for the last wishes of their deceased dearest, or a sign of the desire to truly become a less self-centred person not just for their dearest but for all those he watched over, or a sign of something else entirely, nobody would ever truly know. Interpretations are something left to an individual, and only Ananas Dragon Cookie would ever know for sure.

“Please, Longan… take care of yourself, stay safe… and please don’t view other cookies so negatively anymore. Treat them all with the same warmth you always showed me… I love you”

Out of the three, Longan Dragon Cookie would probably seem to be the most composed on the outside, focusing on simply staying with you for your final moments and making sure you felt loved ‘til the end.

But on the inside, the Ivory Dragon would also be the one who would feel the most pain out of three over your passing. Why did the one cookie that somehow achieved the impossible and gained the Longan’s affections, out of all the pathetic and petty wastes of crumbs that plagued the lands, have to be the one to fall and crumble helplessly?

After all, Longan Dragon Cookie was nothing short of the highest authority on Earthbread. in their eyes, every single occurrence and event that ever happened only happened because they currently allowed it to, and they can take anything away from existence as quickly as it had been granted. And yet now they were the ones having to suffer having something taken away from them, for you to slip away from their watchful eyes without their agreement.

As you lay there in their hold, your weary eyes barely even able to open anymore, your view is met with the gaze of the Ivory Dragon’s draconic eyes soften in a way you hadn’t ever witnessed before. His lack of words are more telling than anything he could even say in the moment - you know they desperately want nothing more than to find a way to save you of your fate, but the culmination of past failures over this has already proved to them the ugly truth. Instead, the warm feelings of their lips gently making contact with the dough on your forehead are the last thing you feel before all your senses fall into a gentle numbness…

Ever since that mournful day, Longan Dragon Cookie found themselves at a loss of of a plan for the future. Reclaiming the nostalgic past felt meaningless is it was a past he would have to experience without you. Cookies from all over the land would inexplicably breathe easier at the subconscious feeling that the unstoppable fire threatening to change the landscape had finally been extinguished, and had now been replaced with the mournful embers of grief.

Longan Dragon Cookie knew that someday, the fire of desire for their original goal would someday return, but for now, they were content with simply following your last words and not turning any cookies into stone. Only when they lost their beloved did the dragon ever truly experience what if felt like to be one of those pathetic little crumbs littering all over Earthbread, and the memories of your time with them would always remain latched onto their cold heart.

(phew, finally managed to finish a prompt-)