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ashasmonsters · 3 years

Text

The Skateboarder

Female reader x Female orc (Morn)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: brief alcohol, stupid memes

Words: 9k

Morn reached between the legs of some intertwined partygoers, retrieved a beer from the strategically placed cooler, then opened it on the strike plate of the living room door. Some of it foamed out and fell on the carpet with the bottle cap but she didn't seem to care. The owners of the sorority house didn't care either.

"...so yeah, she said I stank and got up and left." Morn finished her tale of an attempted one-night stand.

"She didn't even touch you yet?" You asked, leaning in close so she could hear you over the thumping music. As was usual for parties like these, you and Morn had carved out a corner where you could be ignored by everyone else and gossip.

"Well, yeah, but not below the belt. That's what pissed me off. She was all over me all night and as soon as I say I want her to go down on me, she insults me and leaves."

"I mean..." you grinned, unable to resist, "did you stink down there, though?"

Morn punched your shoulder and chuckled.

"Fuck off, it's not like roses and daffodils are the norm. You know, it's like I always say..." It was Morn's turn to grin mischievously.

"Don't fucking say it. I swear to God, Morn. I'm going to laugh really hard and everyone's going to look at me weird. " You pleaded. You knew what would come next; Morn's favorite turn of phrase that she managed to use more often than one would think.

"—like I always say, good pussy smells like the heat coming out of the PS4."

You were true to your word. As you caught your breath between peals of laughter, a few partygoers did in fact stare at you. Despite your prior protests, the stares didn't bother you that much. Here in Morn's gossip corner, all that mattered was whiling the time away until the other half of your group was ready to leave. Dera's whereabouts were unknown but Lash was visible in the corner of the room.

"Looks like Lash's plan is all coming together." You noted. Morn turned to look as well; she was aggressively making out with an Elf boy. He licked her tusks. You grimaced.

"Goddamn. When Lash wants something she gets it."

"She mentioned that guy... what, like, yesterday?" You asked. "From staring at him across the classroom to heavy petting in less than twenty-four hours. That's a new record."

"Makes me feel like I'm not even the same species," Morn complained, finally turning away from Lash's public display of affection. "I know Orc boldness is a stereotype but it's not one I'd mind living up to."

"That's not Orc boldness, that's Lash boldness," you chortled. "Don't be down on yourself for not having it. Besides, she's not looking for a one-night deal; if that Elf doesn't call her back tomorrow she's gonna have her week ruined."

"I guess that's true..." Morn sighed.

"Morn." You firmly squeezed her shoulder and stared at her. "I love Lash to death, but you've never called me at three in the morning crying over the end of a week-and-a-half-long relationship. It's okay to not be dating a new person all the time."

"Yeah, I know." She finished her beer and smiled a bit.

"Besides, if you were hunting down an object of desire every time we were at a party, I'd have no one to chill with. Morn's Gossip Corner is the only thing getting me out of the dorm on Friday nights."

"I'm glad to be of service." She dramatically saluted. "You're right, though. I guess it's just the party atmosphere that makes me forget sleeping around and dating have drawbacks."

"Definitely the party vibe getting to you," you affirmed. "Speaking of sleeping around, though... where's Dera?"

"If I had to guess, upstairs. Text her." Morn suggested.

You pulled out your phone and opened the group chat, aptly titled "THA HOOLIGANZ 👩‍💻👩‍✈️👩‍⚕️🕵️‍♀️" and sent a message:

You: dera where tf are u, its almost been an hour

Almost immediately the indicator that Dera was typing popped up, followed by her reply:

Dera: upstairs. firbolg football player. huge 🍆

"Oh, god." You gagged. Morn pulled out her phone in response to see the cause, then had a similar reaction. She started tapping away at her phone's keyboard.

Morn: damn, dera, chill. we just wanted to make sure you were ok.

The typing indicator preceded yet another reply from Dera.

Dera: lol ok mom

"She's got an attitude tonight, sheesh." Morn shook her head and put her phone away.

"I think tonight an early exit might be a good idea. Dera and Lash seem pretty occupied," you said. You couldn't find Lash or her Elven paramour in the room anymore.

"I think you're right. Text the group and tell 'em we're leaving."

You nodded and did so, receiving 👍 responses from both Dera and Lash after a short pause.

"Let's go." You got up from your place on the sunken-in couch and helped Morn up. The two of you navigated through the fire code-violating sorority house to the front door, where you met the cool night air and the odor of cigarettes. Morn's skateboard was next to yours, propped against the thick trunk of a long-dead tree.

"I don't wanna go back to the dorms yet. It's not that late," Morn said, checking her watch.

"Pizza?" You suggested.

"Pizza."

Before long you were both skating into the night. The entire university town was built into the side of a mountain with the greek life houses at the top, making it a breeze to fashionably exit parties like this one. There were a few drunken revelers to dodge on the way down, but once you cleared the sororities and fraternities it was smooth skating. The incandescent streetlights flew past as century-old houses gave way to newer corner stores and parks. Before long, you and Morn were skating through the thick of the city on a course set for Main Street.

The pleasant sound of plastic wheels on stamped concrete was soon married with the aroma of cheap, indulgent pizza. You wouldn't have needed any senses other than smell to know you arrived at your destination: "Get Stuffed," the type of place where a slice was a dollar and you could write on the walls. As was usual for the time when Friday became Saturday, it was packed with the university crowd; too packed to even sit inside.

You and Morn shimmied to the counter and ordered your usuals. Fortunately, Get Stuffed had nailed speedy service and it was only a few short moments before you were on your way out with greasy pizza on flimsy paper plates. You set your skateboards on the curb and sat on them, side-by-side.

"Thanks for fleeing with me," Morn said, folding her slice of pizza and tucking her loose black curls behind her ear.

"Anytime, Morn." You mimicked her pizza fold before noticing something about the beanie she wore. It was oddly familiar, so you delayed your first bite. "Hey, where's that beanie from?" Morn looked at you, chewing.

"This thing?" She tugged at the chunky burgundy yarn. "You should know."

"I should know?" You mused, finally chewing on your first bite of pizza. It was just as greasy and gratifying as you expected it to be. Then, as realization dawned on you, it almost fell out of your mouth. "You kept that thing for this long?!"

"Of course. It's a good beanie. It's lasted... what, since second grade?" She smirked. "It's one of the best birthday gifts I've gotten. Thanks, by the way."

"Thank you for holding onto it," you countered. "The memories... wow."

"That was the birthday party where we had a sleepover afterward. We played tag, and—"

"Oh, no," you moaned, remembering.

"...you ran so hard that you threw up." Morn giggled. Your cheeks still burned at the vivid memory. You almost forgot crocheting Morn's beanie, but you never forget throwing up at someone's birthday party.

"It's crazy we've been friends for so long." You gracefully changed the subject and started working on your pizza slice in earnest.

"It's not that crazy. You've always been there for me."

"I mean... I try..." you were hiding your blush, feeling warm as Morn readied to shower you with compliments.

"Like the time Chrissie Becker rejected my invitation to prom. You started crying when I started crying, and I hadn't even told you what happened yet." Morn giggled warmly. "Or when our families went camping together and you let me share your sleeping bag when I forgot mine."

"I couldn't just let you sleep on the ground!" you sheepishly defended yourself against the flattery.

"Even though you knew I kicked in my sleep." Morn looked up from her plate and smiled at you, her tusks glinting under the streetlights.

"You're more important to me than my shins," you said quietly.

"Hah!" Morn laughed heartily, bumping her skateboard into yours and wrapping an arm around you. "You're more important to me than my shins."

In Morn's embrace there on the sidewalk, you melted. She had such a way of effortlessly making you feel safe and loved. She had been there for you as well several times and was damn good at it. You enjoyed the feeling so much that you just sat there quietly until she got a little worried.

"Hey, did I tease you too much?" Her wry grin had been replaced with a slight frown and sympathetic brow.

"No, no..." you reassured her, savoring the dreamy feeling. "It's all good. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm glad we're... friends," you stumbled a bit over the last word.

"Me too," she gave your shoulder a little squeeze.

You both finished your pizza in silence, enjoying each others' side and the ambiance of the city street. After a moment you both tossed the greasy plates into a trash can and skateboarded back to the dorms. The courtyard was where your paths diverged, and after bidding one another goodnight and farewell, you parted. You shared your bed that night with a familiar feeling. Embarrassment, shame, and maybe even guilt. All for the way your heart skipped a beat when she put an arm around you, or the unstoppable smile when she recounted her memories of you. You weren't super familiar with love, at least not in the way Lash and Dera were, but the way Morn made you feel in recent months was more than simple friendship. You agonized over the thought that she wouldn't return those feelings. It was a miracle you managed to sleep at all.

Saturday morning arrived, and with it, a text. You groggily pulled your phone into bed with you to read it after rubbing the sleep from your eyes. It was from THA HOOLIGANZ.

Dera: hey sorry about my sass last nite. i figured y'all left early and that's cool, i was kinda doing my own thing anyway

Lash: LOL sameeee. anyway, does anyone want to meet up for coffee or something? i’d rather be hungover around you guys than my parents 😭

You considered the offer; it would be nice to actually see Lash and Dera after missing them last night. Your moment on the curb with Morn still bothered you, and a distraction from that would be nice.

You: im down, where u wanna go

Dera: u know that cute little cafe on that corner? main street i think?? the one thats literally 100% pink???

Morn: you're thinking of tokidoki cafe! i'm down to go, that’s my spot!

You sighed. This outing wouldn't be very good for distracting you from Morn if Morn was seated across from you.

Dera: thats the one. lets gooooooo

Lash: yes. literally right now. start running

Morn: thanks, but I think I'll skate there. see y'all in a bit

You: same

The morning air was crisp and cool in the way spring mornings always were. It was a shame Lash and Dera were too busy downing aspirin and chugging water to truly enjoy it. Your skateboard served you well as a means of transport on mornings like this; you and your friends were the rare few students who didn't usually sleep in on Saturdays, so you enjoyed the empty sidewalks. The soft plastic wheels gripped the concrete well enough to accommodate any street corners.

The cafe was 100% pink, as promised. The sweet, pillowy smell of crepes mingled with the robust aroma of coffee and met you as you hopped off your skateboard. The tiny size of the place made it easy to tell you were the first to arrive. You ordered the latte-crepe combo that took up the most space on the menu and sat while you waited. You were idly scrolling through your phone when you heard the rhythmic thumping of a skateboard wheels on slabs of sidewalk.

She looked painfully good as she stepped through the cafe's front door. The morning sun made her long black hair golden around the edges and she still wore that damn beanie. Her tusks poked out from her smiling lips when her eyes met yours. Illuminated by sunbeams, her well-toned arm showed every muscle and vein as she gripped her skateboard by the trucks to carry it in.

"Good morning!" she beamed at you. The employee behind the counter smiled at her knowingly.

"The usual, Morn?" he asked.

"Yep!" She quickly answered before sitting across from you, the pins on her denim jacket jingling. "You got here quickly."

"Yeah..." you answered weakly, your conversational skills still recovering from the way Morn held you last night.

"You weren't drinking last night, were you? You alright?" Of course, Morn immediately picked up that something was the matter. It would be stranger if she didn't.

"I'm fine. Where are Lash and Dera?" You deflected. As if on cue, your phone buzzed. THA HOOLIGANZ chimed in.

Lash: lol srry, throwing up. cant make it

Dera: yeah same.

"Unbelievable. Those girls can't seem to show up anywhere lately." Morn had a slightly disapproving tone. She tapped away on her phone.

Morn: this is going on your attendance sheet

Lash: see u in detention, dera

Dera: enjoy your crepes you two!

You chuckled at the exchange.

"That's more like it. I like when you smile." Morn chimed in. "Do more of that."

The waiter saved you from needing to respond by stopping at your table with your orders. A steaming, folded crepe landed before you covered in a sauce just as pink as the rest of the cafe. A warm latte arrived with it and you wrapped your hands around the warm mug. It soothed you a little.

"Morn..." you began, not quite sure what you were going to say. Was this it? Were you going to lay your feelings on the table right here, right now?

"What is it? You can tell me anything." Morn leaned in over the table. "I can tell something's been bothering you lately."

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You didn't even know how to begin; should you preface it with an apology? Some sort of explanation or disclaimer?

"I don't even know if I can tell you. Like, if I can get the words out," you said before sipping your latte. You savored the taste, hoping the espresso would ground you somehow. At the very least you wouldn't be expected to talk with your mouth full.

"There's no rush. I just... I want to help. I've known you long enough that I'm sure there's something I can do." Morn hadn't even touched her crepe yet.

"Let's just, um, eat." You answered.

"Good idea. I'm sure you'll feel like yourself once you've eaten and the coffee starts kicking in." Morn nodded to herself, cutting open her fruit-filled crepe. You similarly started to work on yours. The two of you ate in silence and, for a moment, you did feel better. Fully focusing on the aromas, flavors, and textures of your breakfast stilled your trembling hands. The slightest bit of confidence grew within you halfway through the meal.

"I... um..." the words slowly formed in your mouth. Morn paused, setting down her fork and knife and looking at you intently. "I fell in love. With someone I don't think I should be in love with."

Morn listened but said nothing. She was thinking.

"How do you know it's love?"

"What?" you asked.

"How do you know it's not just a crush? Or, you know, lust?" Morn inquired. You considered the question carefully. Memories of platonic cuddles, impromptu sleepovers, and late-night conversations with Morn came to mind.

"It's love because it's lasted way longer than any crush. I trust this person, and they trust me. I'm not like Lash, pining for the new guy from across the classroom; I know this person really well."

"I see." She paused again. "Why would it be bad to love them? Wouldn't a good history make a romantic relationship easier?"

"Only if they felt the same way..." you sighed and nestled your head in your elbows.

"Ah, right..." Morn looked sheepish. "Well, personally—and I do mean personally, so it might not apply to them—if I had a long-time friend that I had feelings for, I would just tell them."

"Really?" Your eyes widened.

"I mean, yeah. If I and this person had such a long history of trust, then I would trust them to still be friends with me afterward if they didn't feel the same way. I'm sure it would be awkward for a while, but I really don't think it would be, you know... destructive or anything."

More memories came to you. More times where you felt completely open and vulnerable with Morn, and when she did with you. Times when you comforted each other and shared secrets under blanket forts and playground swings and gymnasium bleachers. Words formed inside your mouth, desperate to make themselves known to the world. Perhaps now would become another one of these memories. You'd look back on it in the future and remember the smell of pink crepes in the pink cafe.

"Morn... I have these feelings for you. I'm talking about you."

You fought the urge to cover your mouth, and you didn't stutter or stammer in the slightest. Though working up the courage was difficult, letting the words go was one of the easiest things you had ever done. Morn didn't react much; an eyebrow rose slowly as she finished chewing. The silence was agonizing.

"I'm happy you trust me enough to share that with me," Morn said calmly. You wanted to shout that's all?! but held your tongue. She took a sip of her latte, clearly in no rush to say more.

"So..." you began, well and truly lost. All your effort had gone into mustering courage and now you had nothing left. Even your anxiety and worry had gone, and you were strangely content, though eager, to hear Morn speak.

"So..." Morn parroted, "does that mean you want to... you know, date me? Like, romantic dates, not besties dates. Kissing dates."

Again, your impulses screamed duh!

"Um, yeah..." you said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. "I'd like that, but... only if you'd like that too."

She sipped her latte again, still calm.

"You know, over the years, I've imagined what we would be like if we were romantic with each other. Like, girlfriend-girlfriends. How could I not? We've known each other for so long."

You nodded, bidding her speak more.

"I never knew you wanted that. I can't imagine how you felt; I could tell something was wrong but I couldn't figure out what." Morn set the mug and her cutlery down, intentionally and warmly looking you in the eye. "I think...

You didn't even breathe.

"I think we should give it a shot." Morn smiled widely. "Does that sound good to you?"

"Yes, yes it does," you finally drew breath. If Morn was feeling a similar tumult of emotions that you were, she was hiding it considerably well. Morn wiped her lips and tusks with a napkin and got up from the table.

"Well, I've got to visit mom and pops tonight, but we've still got Sunday tomorrow. How about we have our first real date then?"

"Uh, sure!" You sat there, dumbfounded. Was it really going to be this easy?

"Cool. I'll let you pick where we go, just like most of our... non-date hangouts," she said, turning to the cashier. She gestured widely to the table. "Put it all on my tab."

"You have a crepe tab?"

Morn chuckled. Making her way to the door, the sunlight caught her hair and skin deliciously.

"I'm a regular. Anyway," she grabbed her skateboard, "see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow." You answered. She gave you one last toothy grin and stepped out before gliding out of sight, disappearing past the edge of the window. You rested your chin in your hands and sighed like a lovestruck teenager in a coming-of-age movie. Before long, your window-gazing session was interrupted by an employee.

"All done, ma'am?" he asked politely.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, I was spacing out."

"No, it's all good. Thanks for coming by, and if you don't mind me saying..." he looked somewhat pensive.

"What?"

"Don't tell Morn I said this since she's proven that she could snap me in half like a twig, but... speaking as the crepe guy she visits several times a week, I think she's a good match for you."

"But you've never met me before. Maybe once or twice, but—"

"She's told me all about you. All good things, don't worry. It's less about you and more about how Morn talks about you. She gushes when she mentions you, seriously." He paused awkwardly then started to clean up the table. "I've said too much."

"No, thank you," you said. "It's good to know."

"Glad I could help. Anyway... um, thanks for coming in." He waved at you as you got up and left. You nodded and made your exit.

Back at your dorm, you couldn't decide if you wanted to pace or lay in bed and kick your legs. You had so much energy inside you, trapped. It was equally nervous and thrilling. You wondered how Morn kept herself so well composed; something in the back of your mind nagged at you, wondering if it was because she didn't really feel that strongly for you. Enough, you thought to yourself. Morn was your best friend for almost as long as you could remember. She wouldn't toy with you like that. Hell, she explained her entire thought process on the topic before you even confessed to her.

You decided to pace to distract yourself. Those thoughts weren't helpful. Right now you had to choose a place for your first officially non-platonic date. It was never this hard to pick a place to hang out with Morn before...

Then, an idea. It sprung into your mind out of nowhere, and it just felt right. You made sure that the place was open on Sunday, checked the ticket prices... it was perfect. You readied your phone to text Morn the details... but Lash had already sent you a private message. You opened the notification.

Lash: yo how did crepes go?? sorry i no-showed

Your brow furrowed a bit. Lash's random interest was a bit strange, even more so since she was hungover. A dehydrated, vomiting Lash was bedridden for a good half-day in your experience.

You: the cafe was cool! the crepes were good

Unsure if you should be forthcoming about your new development with Morn, you figured they could find out tomorrow once your first "real date" was underway. A change like that would likely be a big deal in your friend group, so a text message wouldn't do the announcement justice anyway.

Lash: how's Morn?

You: shes fine? did something happen??

Lash: no lol, just wondering lol

Two "lol" in one text? You wanted to indulge your suspicions and investigate further, but you decided to leave it at that. You had a date to arrange.

You: still at your parents' place?

Morn: yeah, I'll be back in town tomorrow though

You: k, cool. does meeting at the aviary at 2pm work?

Morn: yeah definitely! what made you pick the aviary?

You: idk if you remember, it was so long ago, but it was the first school field trip we went on as friends

There was a pause as Morn's typing bubble hovered on your screen.

Morn: 😭OMG YOURE SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY😭

Morn: i cant wait to see you tomorrow!!!

You: me too 💕

Your phone landed on your bed with a thump and that nervous energy returned with a vengeance. More pacing, more leg-kicking, even some giggles. This situation felt both extremely real and like a scene from a movie; you never imagined this sort of thing happened in real life, especially in yours. Against all previous expectations, things were going fine. It was thrilling, scary, and made your heart race, but it was going fine. The homework you had to do took a back seat to your excited daydreaming and scheming about tomorrow. You thought about how you would greet her, how you would hug, if and how you would go for a kiss, walking while holding her hand... predictably, sleeping that night was incredibly difficult.

In the morning, you finally executed the plans you fantasized about prior. You decided to err on the side of being overdressed, picking an outfit that wasn't formal but still a little more special than what you would usually wear. You showered, brushed your teeth, swished some mouthwash, and even flossed! Breath mints, a small assortment of Morn's favorite snacks, and an extra water bottle found their way into your bag. If you were going to overthink, then you would take advantage and be overprepared as well. Squeaky clean, dressed to impress, and with a heftier bag than usual, you skateboarded down to the aviary intent on arriving ten minutes early.

The journey was uneventful save for your steadily increasing heart rate. By the time you were waiting for her by the entrance gate, you were fully flustered. You stood still with a kind smile on your face, but anything more complex would have been asking too much of you. The mental rehearsal in your mind's eye ran over and over again: smile, say hi, hug. Smile, say hi, hug. These were all things you had done with Morn before, but with platonic intent instead of this newfound "why not?" intimacy. With how calm and composed Morn had appeared throughout this whole process, you felt as if you were at a disadvantage somehow. You worried in a juvenile sort of way that she was too cool for you.

The way she pulled up to the aviary in her car didn't help that worry at all. Her ride, an old, angular, black thing that roared like a beast, was her pride and joy. She had practically built the thing herself with the number of parts she swapped out of it. It was fully manual and she had the skills to maneuver it gracefully into the parking space. Out from it stepped your actual, honest-to-god, bonafide date.

She smiled at you and your brain melted. You held up a hand in a sort of mellow wave, offering a faint grin. By the time she closed the distance, your simple three-step plan was gone with the wind. Luckily she also decided that greeting with a hug was the correct choice and you were in her embrace quickly. You paused before realizing you should probably return the gesture and wrap your arms around her as well.

"It's so good to see you! You look great," she said, pulling away and looking you over.

"You too..." you breathed, taking your own chance to get a proper look. Her outfit was just as sleek and dark as her car: a pair of black jeans with accompanying boots, a matching leather jacket, and of course, that classic burgundy beanie to top it off.

"Shall we?" She extended a green, competent hand to you. She wasn't wearing her driving gloves today, which was good for your composure; otherwise, you would have well and truly swooned. You accepted her grasp and she gave your hand a firm squeeze before strolling with you to the ticket booth. Thanks to your student IDs, you got in with discounted admission.

The aviary itself was fairly large, and on this particular Sunday, you and Morn practically had the place to yourselves. Other than the idle chatter of a few other scattered visitors, there was only the sound of wind in the leaves and bird calls. The two of you meandered between the exhibits, chatting but not about much in particular. Instead, you were simply content to enjoy each other's company and look at the birds. The birds liked looking at you, too; at one point a pair of free-roaming peacocks followed you and Morn around the aviary.

"Looks like it's a double date," Morn quipped, gesturing to the two plumy birds. They were both mostly brown and lacking the massive, fan-shaped tails.

"They're a pair of girls too. Male peacocks are the ones with the crazy feathers," you noted.

"It's almost like having Lash and Dera tagging along." Morn chuckled. "In fact, if they keep failing to show up these birds would make good replacements."

You looked at the two peacocks, who had started preening each other's feathers.

"Do you think they're besties or girlfriends?" You playfully asked. "That's some pretty intense preening."

"Maybe they're both, like us." Morn wrapped an arm around you and offered you her shoulder. You melted again. "If you had feathers, I'd be preening you right now."

"If I knew how to return that compliment, I would." You said, deliciously rattled by her closeness and warmth.

"I have an idea... if you're cool with it." Morn kept holding you close, turning to make eye contact with you. You faced her and realized how close you were. Trapped in her gaze, you couldn't speak. You gave a faint nod.

The first thing you felt was her tusks on your cheeks. They met the corners of your mouth, pressing gently just before her lips met yours. In reality, the kiss was a quick peck. In your mind, time froze. You could no longer hear the birds calling or wind blowing, only the sound of your heart beating like a drum and a feeling like fire in your chest. Morn pulled away from the kiss with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry if my tusks poked you. I'm still getting the hang of that."

"Hey, practice makes perfect, right?" you let slip with a suaveness that surprised even you. Morn's eyes widened in surprise before she let out a hearty laugh.

"That's the spirit!" She cheered, squeezing you hard. "I'm gonna hold you to it, so be aware: I'm gonna kiss you a bunch more before we're out of here."

"That's fine by me." You couldn't do anything else but giggle. Morn gave you another peck immediately after, angling her head a bit so her tusks didn't have such a lead on her lips. Your first kiss with Morn was perfect as far as you were concerned, but this second one was a bit more graceful.

"Better?" she asked.

"Better."

Your stroll through the aviary continued in this fashion: chatting about this and that, generally gushing about each other and punctuated by more quick kisses. It was strange to have a first date with someone that you knew so well, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. Each kiss felt natural and fun, not nerve-wracking and awkward as in the dates of your past. Before all this, you scoffed at yourself for wishing that there was a switch you could toggle to go from best friends to girlfriends, but so far it seemed to work precisely like that.

To the sound of your giggling, the sun was poised to set soon. The aviary closed early because it was Sunday, and you found yourself with Morn leaning against the gleaming hood of her car. You saw your reflection in it, the two of you framed by the orange sky. She came to your side, attaching to you like a magnet.

"It's probably time we headed home, huh?" she suggested.

"Yeah, probably," you replied reluctantly. "I almost don't want it to end."

"It doesn't have to." Morn smiled. "Did you really think I'd kiss you goodnight and leave you on the curb?"

You giggled. That would certainly be the plan for a first date with a stranger, but this was Morn.

"You could come by and hang out with me in my dorm for a bit?" she asked.

"I'd love to." You answered. Her dorm building and yours were right next to each other, after all. She stood up from the hood of her car and opened the passenger side door, offering the seat to you. Not long after stowing your skateboard in the trunk, you were cruising through the city streets bound for the university. Morn's focus made the ride a smooth one, her hands expertly gripping the steering wheel and gear shifter. She wore a focused but pleased expression as she deftly maneuvered the growling vehicle.

"Oh!" Her concentration broke. "We should get food! We haven't eaten at all."

Tires squealed as she veered right, making a turn she wasn't expecting to make. You gripped your armrest and giggled. The engine roared and, within moments, delivered you to a drive-through whose location Morn seemed to know by heart. She was so familiar with it that she blew past the lit-up menu and instead went directly to order.

"Don't worry, I'll get you something you'll like." She reassured you before making it out of the drive-through, takeout bag in hand, in record time. The bag landed in your lap and delicious smells wafted from it. You were tempted to peek inside and sample its contents, but even while entranced with Morn's driving skills you knew eating in her car was a no-no. Untoasted Pop-Tarts during a late-night study session on her bed were okay but her car was like a temple. You folded the top of the bag to make it easier to resist the temptation.

After she had parked and gotten out of the car, you followed her with takeout bag in one hand and skateboard in the other. This late on a Sunday night, the sky was a deep navy. Stark white light from the lamp posts illuminated the web of pathways that connected the dorms, parking lots, student union, and myriad other places you'd typically skateboard solo to.

A few beeping locks later, you made it to Morn's dorm room. Like yours, it was spartan and tiny, but it belonged to her and her alone. You set the bag down on the solitary table and determined to chow down, but Morn caught your attention. She sat on the twin-sized bed that you had shared with her many times before; platonically, of course. She had an expression that you couldn't quite decipher.

"You okay?" You asked, not sure where to begin.

"I'm great, actually," she said, brushing her hair out of the way so she could look at you. "Sorry if I overdid it with the kisses earlier—"

"You didn't," you interjected.

"I just... It felt great to kiss you. I don't know if it's just my nerves, or the newness of it all, or something else, but... I'm kicking myself for not making the first move on you sooner." She looked away, blushing a forest green on her cheeks. You sat next to her on the bed before she could say anything more.

"Hey, don't feel bad just because I was moping for a bit. The fact I was so worried is proof that you can't really know how someone feels about you until you ask. Even if you were friends since forever ago." You reversed the usual arrangement by wrapping your arm around her. She chuckled softly.

"I can't believe I was stressing myself out over random sorority chicks at parties rejecting me. Being with you just feels so much better than the dating apps and the parties and shit like that," Morn sighed. "I know it's technically only our first date but I really think we're something special."

"We are special," you held her tighter, "we went on our first date after... what, a decade and a half of knowing each other? That kind of history sure beats cheesy Tinder pick-up lines."

"Sure does," Morn punctuated her sentence with a kiss. Instead of giving you a quick peck, she pressed her lips into yours even harder. Within the privacy of her dorm room, your heart fluttered at the notion of Morn being able to do whatever she wanted to you. You felt the beginnings of her tongue at your lips, then she pulled away and took a deep breath. Her face was inches from yours as you caught your breath.

"I really like kissing you," Morn uttered. "Now that we're alone... are you okay if I really kiss you?"

"Really kiss me?" you teased. She got even closer.

"Please?" She played along with her best begging tone.

"Go ham." She kissed you again, giggling at your choice of words with her lips pressed against yours once more. She immediately cradled your head in her strong hands, gently placing you into a reclining position. There wasn't much room, but she managed to fit alongside you in the twin-sized bed all without breaking the kiss. You opened your eyes after pulling away to breathe, and all you could see were her dandelion-colored irises.

"I'm gonna go again," She said, smiling. "I just had to get a good look at you first."

"You can do whatever you want, Morn." You grabbed her arm and placed her hand on you. "Just don't keep me waiting."

Morn kissed you hard for the third time, the hand you held now caressing your body ravenously. As her tongue gently played at your lips, her hand found its way to your chest and played with your breasts. She hardly gave you time to gasp, coming back to your mouth with fervor. Her tongue met yours in earnest now, both of you closing the space on the bed between you. Her body flush with yours, you could feel every muscle as she held you close.

You felt one of her legs settle in between your thighs, and you whined into her mouth as she teasingly rubbed you against it. Even fully clothed the sensation was electric, no doubt due to the person giving it to you. Many nights alone had involved fantasies just like this. Now they were coming true.

Desperately, you began grinding yourself against her leg. You chased the sensation as far as you could, moaning into Morn's kiss. Just as you felt yourself approaching the edge, she removed herself from you. Her leg pulled away and the kiss stopped. You opened your eyes, bewildered. Morn had gotten off the bed and kneeled just next to it, her eyes level with your aching need. She grabbed the waistband of your bottoms before looking you in the eyes again.

"You said you didn't want me to keep you waiting," she grinned, tusks glistening. "This okay?"

"It's more than okay... stop teasing me!" You whined. She nodded, pulling your bottoms off entirely before hovering in between your legs. You could feel her breathe on you through your underwear. God, she was so close; you twitched with each puff of warm breath. Her tusks brushed against the inside of your thighs. With a tentative finger she eased your underwear out of the way, gently planting kisses all around your bare mound. She held your legs in place as they twitched and reacted to her electric touch. She deliberately avoided your tender nub with her warm lips. She was playing with you.

"Morn, please," you begged. She paused to look up at you and give a toothy grin.

"You're so cute when you're frustrated," she teased, quickly going back for more. She felt unimaginably warm against your already hot entrance. It wasn't unlike all those other times you melted at Morn's touch, only now it was so intense you couldn't help but let out gasps and squeaks. She held nothing back this time. Hungrily, she lapped at your slit, each lick finishing with a flourish on your sensitive little nub. You mewled in time with her curling tongue.

"Oh! That's— ah! So good!" You moaned, your back beginning to arch as you squirmed around on the mattress.

"You flatter me," Morn uttered between licks, looking proud. You saw something in her eye before she let go of one of your thighs and brought her hand to your entrance. Her tongue didn't let up at all as she slowly introduced one of her substantial fingers. It fit comfortably inside you at first, but you gasped hard when it started moving. Morn added another soon after, stretching you deliciously.

"I'm gonna come if you keep that up," you panted, your face burning red and lungs desperate for air.

"My pleasure," Morn said before redoubling her efforts. Her fingers curled inside you, making a "come hither" motion that made your hips rock. By this point, Morn's tongue had trouble staying on you as you writhed. You gasped with every finger curl, well and truly lost in the heat of the moment.

"Ah! Morn!" You cried, rocking yourself against her fingers desperate for more. She gave up on trying to lick your nub, instead palming one of your breasts with her other hand and pinning you to the bed. With the new leverage, she worked your insides with her fingers, pumping them in and out of you with her muscular arm. You could see sweat beading on her taut green skin.

"Come for me. I wanna see you come," Morn urged. You could do little else but cry out and oblige her. Your body spasmed hard as you cried out gibberish interspersed with her lovely name. Her fingers didn't stop rubbing against your inner walls, leaving you breathless and faint and tightly wound around her. The coiling pleasure within you finally snapped. Your back arched, completely leaving the bed as Morn pressed her lips into yours. She kissed you hungrily as you wailed into her mouth. There was nothing in your mind but the feeling of her fingers coaxing you through the height of your bliss and holding you there for as long as possible. When the pleasure finally started to subside and your breath returned to you, Morn finally withdrew her fingers and lips and wiped her forehead. She smiled at you wordlessly.

"I love you, Morn," you said, panting. There was nothing else to say, nothing else on your mind. If you had given yourself that sort of bliss on a lonely night, you would be drowsy and lethargic. Instead, with Morn turning her love for you into pleasure that made you cry out and curl, you had never felt more alive. She gave you a moment to catch your breath. Leaving your lips unkissed, she sat by your side and stroked your hair.

"I love you too," she planted a quick kiss on your forehead. "Are you tired?"

You shook your head enthusiastically. Sure, you would likely be sore in a few hours, but you wouldn't dream of denying Morn more of you.

"Good, because I wanna get off too." She chuckled and pecked your lips. Undressing herself completely, she helped you out of what clothes remained until you were both completely bare. You were completely flush against her on the bed once more, your skin perfectly complimenting her green form. Her body was toned and full, muscled yet smooth. Even after all you had just been through, the sight of her still made your heart skip.

"I've always wanted to try this. Spread your legs," she commanded, gently grasping your ankles. You complied and she lifted one of your legs aloft just in front of her as if about to hug it. Still holding your leg pointed toward the ceiling, she straddled your dripping warmth with her own. She eased herself onto you and those lovely electric feelings returned. She moaned for the first time, her pleasured sounds like music to your ears.

The position was a little awkward and bent your back in a strange way, but the feeling of her slick sex pressed against yours was delicious.

"I'm gonna start moving," Morn said. She initiated a gentle rocking motion that made you both gasp. The friction between the two of you felt gorgeous and you soon found yourself reciprocating with your hips. Interlocked and sharing the same squeaks and mewls, you wanted desperately to kiss her but couldn't. You had to lay there at her mercy as Morn clung to your leg and ground herself into you. She doubled up on her pace.

"Oh, shit," Morn groaned, both with pleasure and with effort. She had the same expression as when she was driving; when her head wasn't thrown back with a sigh, she was looking at you with love but also intent. Her grinding made you moan and her glare made you shiver delightfully. You had never felt anything like this before, nor had you even fantasized about Morn pressed up against you like this.

"This feels amazing... ah! Morn..." you sighed between yelps when the friction between you peaked.

"I—I..." Morn gasped, her entire face contorted and flushed. She had brought you to your peak once already, and now you wanted nothing more than to see her reach her own ecstasy.

"Please, Morn, come," you pleaded, mirroring her own urgency when she had brought you to orgasm earlier.

"No, I... Shit, I've got a cramp." She sighed, this time tinged with disappointment as she stopped her grinding. "Ouch." She gently disentangled herself from you, rubbing her thigh. The realization that her creased brow had come from pain and not pleasure embarrassed you a bit, an emotion that Morn echoed.

"Hey, it's okay." You sat up and held her shoulder. Her eyes were downcast as she massaged the cramp out of her muscled thigh. "Just so you know, I'm having a great time."

"You were having a great time." She winced as she shifted her kneeling weight on the bed. "Serves me right for thinking I could fuck like a pornstar on the first date, huh?"

"I already came once, Morn," you reminded her. Sitting alongside her, equally naked and sweaty, there was a clarity in the air that made it effortless to speak your mind. You felt bold, yet comfortable. You felt like you wanted more of Morn's body. "Let me take care of you. I think I can make this work."

"Take the lead, babe," Morn relented. The way she said babe made you giddy inside, but you were focused on her now. "Just mind the leg, it still freakin' hurts."

"Morn, when I say I'm gonna take care of you, I mean it. Just lie down," you said, easing her onto her back. With the positions reversed, you had a moment to look her up and down. Laid bare before you and anticipating your next move, the sight of her awoke something within you. Something that told you not to hold back.

You practically pounced atop her, squarely laying yourself on her body. She met you with a kiss that you eagerly returned. You channeled all your built-up desire to please her into that kiss, at the same time aligning your mound with hers. It took a few tries, but eventually, you found the angle where your clit could meet hers without requiring pornstar-style flexibility. Pleasure jolted through both of you and she broke the kiss to gasp.

"Told you I could make it work," you grinned, focusing now on the movement of your hips. You started slowly at first as to not tire yourself out but quickly increased the pace as the coiling warmth inside you grew. Instead of kissing her, you buried your face in her shoulder so you could hear her sing. With every roll of your hips she moaned, louder and louder as you humped her harder and harder.

"Oh, god, babe," Morn panted. You could feel her frenzied breath on your neck as she cried out. You could feel your own orgasm building but all you cared about was her.

"Tell me how you feel," you commanded, maintaining your hips' pace. "I want you to come so bad."

"Keep going," Morn grunted. "I'm close, I'm so fucking close!"

You furthered your efforts, grinding your desperate nub into hers with vigor. You panted as you began to feel tingles in your extremities and your breath became impossibly tight. Morn matched your desperation, her hips weakly pushing upwards so that her mound would meet yours sooner. Just a little more! More! You shouted to yourself mentally as Morn's hands squeezed your waist to signal her impending orgasm.

You frantically let go of her body with one hand, giving up precious leverage in order to make sure Morn couldn't escape the pleasure you were giving her. There was nothing you wanted more than to reach the peak together. You gently caught her pearl between your fingers and rolled it as you ground into her, drawing out deep moans from her. She spasmed in your grasp, gasping in time with your own pleased sighs.

"Oh god!" She cried out, throwing her head back into the piled-up blankets. Her whole body tensed and you could feel each of her rippling muscles press against you in a desperate bid to ride out her orgasm. You followed soon after, the air forced from your lungs as an explosion of tingling warmth knocked the wind out of you. All you could do was cry out with her and press your nub into hers where your hand was still at work. You rubbed and rolled, trying your best to prolong the mutual climax before finally catching your breath and collapsing into Morn's tired embrace.

With your body limp and your face buried in her neck, you could feel her breasts rise and fall with each breath. You held each other loosely for a moment, just listening to her breathe. After only a few heartbeats, she started giggling.

"What's so funny?" you asked, lifting your heavy head to look at her.

"Nothing," she stifled her giggles, a tear rolling down her cheek. "That was just really, really good."

"Are you crying?" You asked, concerned but secretly proud of your handiwork.

"No, I'm not crying. I'm tearing up, there's a difference," she chuckled. "Thank you."

"Thank you. You're the one that started it," you cooed, stroking her hair. "plus, you ate me out first so I think I owe you."

"It's on the house," Morn sighed contently. "But you're still on me... could you roll over, please?"

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly shifted your weight off of her and onto the mattress.

"Don't worry about it, I just figured the bed was softer than me." She chuckled again.

You said nothing, instead opting to resume your embrace with her from the side. She reciprocated, rolling over so she could be the big spoon. She wrapped her arms around you snugly.

"Ah, shit," Morn cursed under her breath.

"What? What's wrong?" You craned your neck a bit to see her golden eyes in your periphery.

"Our food is definitely cold by now," she grumbled, "and I don't have a microwave."

“I’ve got snacks in my bag.” You replied.

Morn readied a compliment, but delayed when both your phones buzzed. THA HOOLIGANZ had something to say.

“What is it now?” Morn rolled over and grabbed her phone, reading the messages as they rolled in. You did the same.

“What the…?”

Lash: did you two kiss yet???

Dera: they did more than that 😳😳😳

Morn shot you a look of disbelief before tapping away frantically.

Morn: wtf are you guys talking about?

You: ^

Lash: the crepe date! u two are dating now right?

You: what do u mean crepe date? the breakfast u failed to show up to u mean??

Lash: lol, relax. we just thought you two needed some time alone. for the record, i was actually hung over. me and dera just agreed you two needed to talk it out

Dera: seriously, u look at Morn the way she looks at crepes, and she looks at u the way Lash looks at literally anyone

Lash: or the way u look at dudes bulges

Dera: shut up

“I…” Morn began, jaw agape. “I don’t know if I should be mad or amazed. I’m both.”

“They set us up like lonely freshmen.” You shook your head, chuckling.

Lash: u two are dating now right???

Morn: yes dumbass

You: can confirm

Lash: CUTEEEEE

Dera: morn fucks on the first date. respect.

You: wait how- what?

Dera: ur in Morn’s dorm right

Your texting was interrupted by three solid thumps coming through the wall.

Dera: i’m right next door and these dorms are made of fucking paper

Morn: hey, i’ve dealt with hearing every single time you slept with some guy. fair is fair

Dera: no judgment from me!

Lash: suddenly i’m glad i still live with my parents…

You put your phone down as you really didn’t have much to say. Morn gave up on it as well, your phones resting together on the floor. She resumed spooning you and a moment later, you felt her chest start to heave with laughter; a hearty laugh loud enough for Dera to hear through the walls. You joined her, laughing until your diaphragm ached. The whole situation, the realization that Dera and Lash knew before either of you did and that they had a master plan… utterly ridiculous. It was like something out of a movie, yet with your arms wrapped around one of Morn’s, completely real. You feared this was all a dream, and as soon as you succumbed to sleep in Morn’s cozy twin bed, it would dissolve.

Morn could tell sleep started to take you.

“I love you,” she whispered into your ear. She squeezed you tight. You had never been more sure of anything in your life that Morn would still be cuddling you when you woke up.

#exophilia #monster x reader #monster x human #romance #female reader #orc #female orc x female reader #monster love #wlw #monster romance #monster fic #wlw romance #orc girlfriend #friends to lovers #monster girlfriend

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

petal to the metal ✿ jjk

✿ pairing: jewelry-maker jungkook x florist reader

✿ genre: idiots to lovers, fluff, slight bits of crack and angst

✿ summary: every sunday, the farmers’ market took place in the center of town. vendors from near and far traveled to sell their crafts, their produce, their teas. as the local florist, you figured that running a booth each weekend would boost your business and bring in new clients. at least, those were your reasons in the beginning. but, now? now, you returned just for the handsome jewelry-maker whose booth was next to yours.

✿ word count: 7k

✿ warnings: pg15, slight innuendo, mention of alcohol, noona!reader, mutual pining, memes, vmin as teen prom dates, chaotic 2seok + joon as jk’s bandmates, scheming yoongi as reader’s assistant, sweetheart jungkook tries his best but doesn't succeed, one (1) make out scene uwu

✿ beta’d by: the gracious phia @meowxyoong

✿ banner by: the talented queen of banner-making maggie @kimtaehyunq

People, to you, are not unlike bouquets of flowers - uniquely complex with traits grown and cultivated throughout the years and brought together to form meaning and personality. It is far too often that you assign flowers to the people you meet in passing.

The boy running down the sidewalk chasing a butterfly is a blooming bunch of crocus (youthful gladness) and daisies (innocence).

The young woman storming out of the cafe after dumping her coffee on what you assume to be her ex is a flurry of peonies (anger) and black-eyed Susans (justice).

You find your flower assignments to be a fun way to pass the time when sitting alone in a coffee shop or walking along the beach.

They are decidedly not fun when you are caught staring unabashedly at a beautiful boy as imaginary petals of acacia (secret love) and daffodil (new beginnings) rain down upon him.

The second his dark eyes flick up to meet yours, you whip around and pretend to be preoccupied with your display of forget-me-nots. The irony is not lost on you as you rearrange the already pristine pale-blue petals. You are more likely to forget your own name than to forget the image of the boy’s crinkly-eyed smile.

God, it’s only the first hour of the first Sunday of the Summer Farmer’s Market, and you are like this? Things are looking more and more dire by the minute.

Your small beachside community holds the annual Summer Farmer’s Market every Sunday from the middle of May until the end of August. Not only does the market attract tourists, it boosts your own business and earns you year-round customers.

Founding Of Fern & Freesia Flower Co. has been one of your proudest achievements to date - perhaps second only to chugging a beer faster than a misogynist on a bar crawl. Now in your third year of business, you feel accomplished in the slow but steady growth of your shop. You have poured your heart and soul into your business, leaving little time for other endeavors.

Hence, you’re wary of your growing fascination with the owner of the neighboring stall.

When you had rolled up earlier with your overflowing cart of flowers, you had set up shop next to a jewelry booth full of gleaming silver and vibrant stones. It hadn’t been until a clang and a muffled curse sounded from the neighboring stall that you noticed it’s owner.

The first thing you had noticed was his outfit - all black clothing with boots that looked like they could stomp through steel. The second had been his adorable pout as he fiddled with a couple bracelets he must have just dropped. And the third - the third had been his hands and the gentle but steady way they fashioned the jewelry back in order.

The opening rush had distracted you from your growing interest for a bit; but the early birds have all since scattered, leaving you alone in between an old woman selling honey and a cute boy selling handcrafted jewelry. Now that you have thoroughly embarrassed yourself by being caught staring, you figure you should at least attempt to busy yourself.

You flutter around your stall, checking on flowers and rearranging errant blossoms.

“H-hey, do you have any tiger flowers?” A soft, sweet voice calls to you from one stall over. You pause in your movements. That can't be who you think it is... But when you turn your head to address the speaker, you find yourself face to face with your mystery boy.

Magically, you manage to blurt out a semi-coherent response, “Oh, hello! No, I don’t have any tiger flowers right now… I do have some tiger lilies?” You gesture to the orange be-speckled bunch in the corner of your stall.

“Oh,” The boy deflates a bit, but then perks back up, “Well, I’m Jungkook. I make jewelry.” He gestures to his collection behind him. “It’s more of a hobby, actually. I’m a vocalist, but I really like working with my hands part-time.”

Your eyebrows raise, and Jungkook blushes profusely. “I didn’t mean it like that!” He whines, his bottom lip jutting out slightly.

You decide to take pity on the boy. Grinning slightly, you extend your hand across the buckets of flowers in between you both, “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m (y/n), and I really like working with my hands full-time.”

Grabbing your hand in his, Jungkook returns your grin. “(Y/n),” He mutters almost absentmindedly as he keeps pumping your intertwined hands up and down. You don’t have it in you to stop him, especially when he keeps looking at you like you just told him the secret to eternal life.

A throat clearing jolts you both from your reveries. Two teenage boys stand there awkwardly. One fiddles with one of the cut stems you discarded in a hurry earlier.

“Oh,” You reluctantly pull your hand away from Jungkook’s warm embrace. “Talk to you later?” You shoot him a wry grin before turning back to your customers. You don’t see the death glare that Jungkook sends the two boys as you greet them warmly.

They request matching boutonnieres for their prom, and your heart swells as they both argue over which flowers they think would fit the other best. One suggests yellow roses, and you can’t hold yourself back from interjecting, “Oh no. Not yellow roses.”

The two of them glance over at you, almost looking shocked to find that you are still there. “Why not?” The taller boy asks.

“They represent infidelity,” You say with a shrug, “But that’s just semantics. You don’t have to read that deep into it if you don’t want to.” Just because you follow the language of flowers closely does not mean that everyone and their mother did as well.

The shorter boy practically throws the yellow rose back in its bucket. “What are you trying to say, Tae?” He shakes his head in mock disappointment at his partner, “I trusted you.”

“Shut up, Jiminie,” The boy you now know as Tae rolls his eyes and turns to you, “Do you have anything that means, like, the opposite of that?”

“Yes,” You smile at the pair and bustle over to the flowers you have in mind, “If I may make a few suggestions…”

Ten minutes later, the two boys shuffle away from your stall with matching cosmos (joy in love and life), baby’s breath (everlasting love), and ivy (fidelity) boutonnieres and with matching grins. You gaze wistfully at their interlocking hands and the quintessential picture of young love they represented.

“You’re good at that,” Jungkook comments, fiddling with one of the earrings dangling from his quickly reddening ears.

“Hm?” You question, your eyes still lingering on the cute couple you had just assisted.

“You’re good at showing people exactly what they want – even if they hadn't known it yet.”

His words capture your attention. You know he’s referring to the two teens that you had just helped, but you can’t help but wish he had been referring to himself. However, before you can even respond, it is his turn to get pulled away by a prospective customer.

The rest of the day flies by. This isn’t a surprise to you as the newness of the market always tends to draw waves of people on the opening day. You and Jungkook only get to exchange some shy glances and small smiles with each other.

That is, until your floral assistant Min Yoongi arrives.

You have a running joke that Yoongi is simultaneously your best and your worst employee. He is your only employee after all and a headstrong one at that. You used to drag him along with you to the early hours of preparing and setting up for the market, but you have long since learned your lesson that Yoongi is decidedly not a morning person. You shudder at the mere thought of it. Now, you only ask that he arrives in the late afternoon to help you close down.

Yoongi greets you with a typical head nod and a half-hearted wave. “Hey, boss lady.”

You shoot him a half-hearted glare, “Hello, worst employee of the month.”

The sound of a gasp draws your attention back to Jungkook’s booth where he is openly gaping at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, Jungkook! It’s just a joke. He’s my only employee,” You laugh nervously as Yoongi gives you a side-eyed look that says ‘you’re acting weird, dude, and I don’t like it’.

“Ah,” Jungkook beams at you, his eyes sparkling adorably, “I see, (y/n). For a second I thought you might be one of those people that gets off on being mean.”

Yoongi spits out the sip of coffee he had just taken. Jungkook turns bright red for the second time that day as he blinks in confusion, “What? What did I say?”

“Nothing!” You pinch Yoongi’s side in an attempt to shut him up, but that boy never listens to anyone but himself.

Walking the short distance to Jungkook, Yoongi lazily extends his hand over the barrier of flowers, “Min Yoongi.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” The boy grasps Yoongi’s hand firmly and squints at him quizzically. “Have we met before?”

Yoongi shrugs in a typical Yoongi fashion, “Dunno, maybe? You do look a little familiar.”

Suddenly, Jungkook drops Yoongi’s hand and snaps his fingers, “You were at last year’s Battle of the Bands! Your rap was legendary! I remember talking to Joon about it all night…”

The two boys quickly descend into a musically driven conversation, leaving you to slowly pack up your flowers and intermittently stare as Jungkook passionately talks about his main craft.

After the fourth time you look over at the pair, you catch Yoongi’s eye. He’s staring at you with a maniacal glint in his eye. Oh no. He slowly looks back and forth between you and Jungkook. No, no, no. An ominous grinch-like grin grows on Yoongi’s lips as you can practically see the light bulb go off above his head. You are done for.

And not a second after Jungkook packs up his trinkets and bids you both goodbye for the day, Yoongi rounds on you. “FBI! Open up!” He mock-yells, cupping his hands around his mouth.

You splutter out an indignant laugh and shove him playfully, “He’s at least 21, Yoongs! You have to be in order to rent a booth here.”

Yoongi continues to playfully tease you for the rest of the time you spend together loading the flowers into your truck and then unloading them at your shop. You only hope your crush is not as obvious to Jungkook as it is to Yoongi...

You and Jungkook spend the next two Sundays observing each other, exchanging small greetings, and chatting in between customers. Slowly, you begin to learn bits and pieces about Jungkook.

You learn he’s the lead singer in a band with his friends, he boxes to stay active, and he loves to eat. In turn, he discovers that you’re two years older than him, your life basically consists of flowers, and you read crappy romance novels in your limited spare time.

And as the weather warms even further, you find out that he has a plethora of tattoos winding up his arm. Though you tease him about his love of black clothing despite the soaring temperatures, you cannot help but admire the way his tanned skin glows against the dark color and makes the tattoos pop. You swear you glimpsed a flower inked on his forearm but you couldn’t be certain. Perhaps it had just been the combination of your growing crush and your overactive imagination.

The weather burns even hotter still when he begins to call you ‘noona’.

“(Y/n)-noona, what do you think of this necklace?”

“Noona! Let me carry that bucket for you. It looks heavy.”

“Do you want to go out with me sometime, noona?”

Okay, that last one had just been wishful thinking; but, a girl can dream.

Meanwhile, Yoongi continues to poke fun at you and your growing infatuation. He had even arrived early for the first time in his career just to get in some extra roasting time. God, you wish Jungkook had some embarrassing friends to help ease the amount of times you had to physically turn away from the boy because you were blushing too hard.

And, finally, on the second Sunday in June, you get your wish.

“Ayo, JK!” A booming voice sounds from halfway down the long row of booths. A smattering of uproarious laughter follows the exclamation.

The boy in question sighs before shooting you a helpless look. “My hyungs are visiting today. I love them, but they’re…” He trails off, “They’re a lot.” Jungkook steps out in front of his booth to get ready to greet them.

The shouting gets closer and closer until three boys break out of the throng of the crowd and approach Jungkook with large smiles. You blink in awe at the sight of them. Do all good looking people really flock together? You’re beginning to think so as you try your best to subtly check out Jungkook’s friends. The loudest one playfully greets Jungkook by throwing fake punches at him. He’s tall and lean with broad shoulders and a face that looks like it could make anyone give him anything if he so much as glances at them. He reminds you of white hyacinth (beauty) and lemon (zest).

The tallest boy shakes his head fondly at Jungkook as he greets him through the other’s antics. You barely stifle a sigh as he grins and shows off the cutest set of dimples you’ve ever seen. He practically screams pear blossom (comfort) and polyanthus (confidence).

The last boy has a smile that makes you almost have to squint because of its sunshine-like radiance. He also has on the most colorful and fashionable outfit you’ve ever seen, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s had design experience. He is so white jasmine (amiability) and lupine (imagination), you think.

Before you can assess further, you’re pulled away by a long-time customer. As you prune and arrange their requested flowers, you can’t help but notice that the stall next door has grown suspiciously quieter.

Hushed whispers carry in the wind.

“That’s your noona?”

“Shut up, hyung!”

You hastily wrap the bouquet for your customer and bid her farewell with a smile. You barely have time to take a breath before three boys appear before you with a fourth scowling behind them in distaste.

“So you’re the flower noona that Jungkook always brings up,” The sunshine boy speaks first, tilting his head as he peers down at you.

“The flower noona, huh?” You shoot Jungkook an amused glance, only to find him with his face buried in his hands, “Maybe I should rebrand.” You grin and introduce yourself to the three boys who you discover to be Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok.

Soon you find yourself wrapped in a conversation with Namjoon while Hoseok and Seokjin gather flowers to make their own bouquets.

“Yes,” You nod your head at Namjoon’s question, “Some flowers do have multiple meanings. Take geraniums for example. The pretty pink oak-leaf geranium symbolizes true friendship, while the just as pretty scarlet geranium signifies stupidity.”

“And what does baby’s breath represent?” Hoseok crinkles his nose in distaste as he fiddles with the flower, “You smell bad?”

You crack up and open your mouth to answer, but Jungkook cuts you off. “No, Hobi-hyung, they represent everlasting love.”

Blinking at him, you nod, “Yes, that’s right. How did you know that?”

Jungkook mumbles something incoherent as he scuffles his heavy boot across the pavement.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows, ears straining to pick up the decibels. Why is he speaking so softly?

“He knows because JK eavesdrops on you all the time, (y/n),” Seokjin lets out a squeaky laugh, “He also downloaded a flower app on his phone to study. I even caught him making flashcards—”

Jungkook jumps on Seokjin’s back, slapping a hand over the older boy’s mouth. Meanwhile, your heart feels like it’s about to burst into a whirlwind of lilac (first emotions of love). Good god, your feelings have leveled up.

Namjoon and Hoseok pay for both their flowers and Jin’s, as the older boy is still preoccupied fighting off an embarrassed Jungkook.

“It was really nice meeting you, (y/n),” Namjoon smiles at you.

“Yes!” Hoseok beams, “Also, please tell your friend Yoongi that we want to collab. Kookie is too shy to ask him.”

You promise that you will and wave goodbye to the two of them as they drag a breathless Jin along with them. The older boy shoots you a wink as he is pulled along into the crowd and disappears.

“Sorry about them, noona,” Jungkook mumbles, looking down at his feet, “They like to embarrass me.”

You melt at his cuteness. “No, don’t apologize. Your friends are a whole lot of fun.” You can’t help but tease him, continuing, “And they were very informative... Do you really pay that close attention to me, Jungkook?”

“Aish!” Jungkook yelps, grabbing a bucket of red roses and hiding his face behind it. “Noona!” He whines, his large eyes peering at you over the red flowers, “You’re just as bad as them!”

“Oh, am I, Kookie?” You emphasize the new nickname of his that you just learned courtesy of Hoseok.

“Did they tell you to call me that?” Jungkook sets down the bucket of roses and looks like he is about to take off in pursuit of his three hyungs.

You grab his arm to prevent him from doing so. It’s warm and solid, and the physical contact sends a tingle across your skin. “They didn’t tell me. I just noticed Hoseok called you that once. If it bothers you, I won’t call you that again.”

Jungkook relaxes. “No, you can call me Kookie,” He says in a small voice.

“Thank god,” You grin and squeeze his arm once before releasing it, “It’s so cute!”

His responding squeal of ‘noona!’ can be heard throughout the entire market.

The following Sunday, the market is cancelled due to the tropical storm swirling up the coast, bringing with it a disappointing blend of rain and an absence of Jungkook.

You probably should be concerned at how rapidly your feelings for the boy are developing, but you aren’t. How can anyone not love him? It’s impossible, in your opinion. Even your grump of an employee likes Jungkook, and Yoongi likes very few people. You aren’t even sure if you make the cut most days.

Sipping your peppermint tea, you gaze out at the rain and wonder if Jungkook misses you just as you’re missing him. Does he feel anything for you?

You know he at least equates you with his friends; but is that all he sees you as? If so, you would respect that, albeit disappointedly. With a sigh, you turn back to your copy of “The Art of Jewelry Making: An Introduction” and pretend just for the day that your feelings are reciprocated.

One week later, you are scrambling. Somehow you had managed to sleep through all five of your alarms, and now you are so, so late.

Your truck’s tires squeal angrily as you whip into the first empty parking space you spot outside of the market. Where will you even set up today? You quickly grab your buckets of flowers as well as all the other supplies you’ll need. Will there even be a booth left for you?

You push your cart up the rows of booths and get more and more dejected at each turn. Finally, you decide to at least visit Jungkook before you dejectedly head back to your truck. You are in dire need of his sweet smile and positive energy.

The wheels of your cart bump and wobble over the uneven gravel. God, why couldn’t Min Yoongi be a morning person? You grumble as you wind the final corner to where your usual stall resides. You stop in your tracks.

Your usual booth… is empty? You blink multiple times in case this is just a beautiful mirage. Nope, it’s still open, it’s wooden tables bare.

Almost as if he senses you, Jungkook practically runs out of his stall towards you. “Noona! You’re here!” And before you can even answer, he sweeps you into a tight hug.

“Hi, Kookie,” You sigh, bringing your arms around his neck. You can’t resist the urge to bury your face in his chest. He smells so nice, like fresh soap with a hint of heady musk. Reluctantly, you release him, realizing you’re both blocking most of the pathway.

“I-I saved your booth for you,” Jungkook blushes and looks down at the ground. He shifts his weight from left to right and then glances up at you once more. “I hoped you were just running late. I didn't want to miss seeing you two Sundays in a row. You would not believe how many people I’ve had to fight off.”

Your heart swells at his words. “Aw, thank you, Kookie. You missed me that much, huh?” You reach up to ruffle his hair as you pass by him, lugging your cart along with you.

You miss the forlorn expression on his face as he gazes after you and mumbles, “Yes...so much.”

With Jungkook’s help, you manage to set up your booth in record time. You thank him profusely, but he just shrugs it off by saying that you would do the same for him. And you would.

Around midday you text Yoongi and ask him to bring food for Jungkook as an extra way of saying thank you.

Rather than respond with a normal yes or no, Yoongi just sends you a sea of smirking emojis. You should’ve known that Yoongi would (correctly) read too much into it. The boy is too smart for his own good.

Quickly sending back the gif of Hades from Hercules turning his flames from blue to orange in anger, you glance up to find Jungkook staring at you with a peculiar expression.

“Noona,” He begins, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You choke out a laugh that sounds sad even to your ears. “No, I don’t. Why do you ask?”

Jungkook perks back up, “I just thought you might be arguing with them. You seemed to be angry texting.”

Letting out a more genuine laugh this time, you reply, “I’m just texting Yoongi, Kook. He’s being his usual difficult self.”

“Oh,” Jungkook grins, “Well then don’t punish him too harshly. It’s fun to see you all riled up.”

Punish?

Riled up?

You blink rapidly at the boy who seems to have no idea how much his words affect you. Trying to brush off the images flowing through your mind, you decide to fight fire with fire – even if it had been unintentional arson.

You take a step towards him, “You like seeing me all riled up, Kookie?”

“Uh-h, yes?” Jungkook eyes you warily as you continue to approach him. He even takes a step back, only to bump into his table of jewelry.

You stand toe to toe with him as he is effectively trapped in between you and his table. Slowly, you rise to your tiptoes. Your lips brush his ear as you murmur, “Well, then I’ll be sure to stay cool and collected from now on.”

Pulling back, you saunter back over to your booth. Faintly, you hear a wheeze from the direction you’ve left Jungkook. You grin in success.

Yoongi had ended up bringing food with him that day. An action that had caused Jungkook to thank the two of you more times than you could count as he had shoved barbecue chicken into his mouth.

You had stared at the boy with hearts in your eyes as he ate. Yoongi had just made whipping motions from beside you, thankfully out of Jungkook’s line of sight.

And as June turns to July, your feelings grow substantially. Your mind is a meadow scattered with clove (I have loved you and you have not known it), cyclamen (timid hope), and gladiolus (you pierce my heart).

You can’t quite get a read on Jungkook. Every time you think there might be something in the way he interacts with you, he does something else that negates everything.

For example, the other day he had requested a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You had thought you might pass out from the way he looked at you, all blushing and shy. But, that might have just been the hundred degree weather.

It had admittedly been foolish to think that he would gift the bouquet back to you, but that’s just you – a fool in love. Your clown status had become even more confirmed when Jungkook had smiled down at the flowers, saying that his elderly neighbor would love them.

You had never thought you would experience being jealous of an elderly widow, but you had been ready to square up. It had decidedly not been your finest moment.

It isn’t until the middle of July that you begin to feel that Jungkook might actually return your feelings.

The boy comes barreling into your stall as you’re setting up for the day. “Noona!” He grins happily, “I have a surprise for you!”

“Please tell me it’s a portable fan,” You moan, as you wipe the beads of sweat from your brow, “It’s so hot out here in these streets.”

“No,” Jungkook pouts adorably, “It’s not a fan. It’s my new collection! I spent all week working on it. I even brought my supplies to band practice. The hyungs all teased me, but it was worth it because of y— because of how good it turned out.”

Had he started to say because of you? Your heart pounds as you watch Jungkook eagerly tug a box out from his large backpack. He holds it out to you expectantly, and you have no choice but to take it from him.

Shooting him a speculative glance, you slowly open the lid. Your eyes widen at the sight before you. Rows of flower themed jewelry gleam up at you - orchid (refined beauty) necklaces, lotus (purity) earrings, and dahlia (dignity) charm bracelets.

These are almost all of your favorite flowers. You blink up at Jungkook, “These are so beautiful, Kook. I want all of them. How are you so talented? It’s so unfair!” You reach down to grab a particularly gorgeous pair of silver hoop earrings with lotus charms dangling from the bottoms.

“I will pay anything for these,” You look back up at him. He’s smiling widely and his cheeks are shaded pink.

“They’re yours,” Jungkook shakes his head, “There’s no charge if my noona wants to wear my jewelry.”

His noona…

You think your cheeks might fall off from smiling too hard. “Well,” You murmur, “If you insist.”

You hand Jungkook the box back, and quickly switch out your plain gold stud earrings for your new hoops. “How do they look?” You flick your ponytail behind you and turn this way and that in an attempt to model his work.

“Beautiful…” Jungkook sighs as he watches you and then straightens suddenly, “Oh, I almost forgot!” He digs around in his backpack for a second time. Pulling out a small black velvet drawstring bag, he once again extends his hand towards you with a gift.

“I made this specifically for you,” He doesn't blush outright this time, but you do note that his ears are bright red. Curiosity overtakes you. You slowly open the bag and pour its contents into your waiting palm.

A silver cuff falls into your hand. It’s about an inch wide with what seem to be persimmon flowers (bury me amid nature’s beauty) engraved on its surface.

“My favorite flower,” You gasp, immediately sliding the cuff onto your wrist, “You remembered!”

“Of course I did,” Jungkook laughs, running a hand through his disheveled hair, “Do you- do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” You scoff, “Do I like it?” You take one large step towards him and basically tackle him in a hug. “I love it, you idiot.”

His hands rest on your waist as he sighs into your hair, “Good. That makes me so happy, noona.”

Reluctantly, you pull away. “I should be angry because you completely upstaged me,” You crack a smile as Jungkook crinkles his nose in confusion, “But I can’t be mad when you give me presents.”

You tug your own little baggie from your tote bag and hand it to Jungkook. “It’s not even close to your level, but you inspired me to try to make something and…” You trail off as Jungkook holds up the bracelet you had carefully strung together for weeks. You basically only had bought expensive black stone beads and slid them onto a string, but you think it’s cute nonetheless.

“(Y/n)-noona,” Jungkook’s wide eyes flick up to stare at you, “You really made this for me?”

“How many other JK’s do you know?” You say referring to the two little letter charms amidst the sea of black stones, “Yes, I made it for you.”

“There’s John Krasinski!” He argues, sliding the bracelet onto his wrist with a smile.

You cannot roll your eyes hard enough, “You caught me. I couldn’t meet up with the Jim from The Office this month, so I just had to give this bracelet to the next JK I came across.”

“I knew it!” Jungkook laughs, “I guess we sort of have friendship bracelets now, huh?”

You feel like you have just been slapped back into the friend-zone. “Oh,” You force out a chuckle, “Yes, I guess we do.”

Clueless to your inner turmoil, Jungkook grins as he hurries away to set up his stall for the day. He prattles on about how excited he is to see how the new collection will sell, especially since he is set up right next to you and your flowers.

You feign normalcy as you reply that his collection will be a hit. And you’re right. As the day wears on, you watch as Jungkook sells more jewelry than you had ever seen him do before. You consistently feel like you’re in a state of whiplash as he keeps referring to you as his “muse” during his sales.

Why are feelings so confusing? You fiddle with a stem of lavender (mistrust). You had honestly been beginning to think that Jungkook might return your affections, but now you aren’t so sure. Maybe next weekend you could try to get a better idea of his feelings?

But, as it turns out, you wouldn’t have to...

It’s midway through the market that next Sunday that you begin to realize Jungkook is acting strange. He is acting more jittery than usual, and despite your constant questioning of if he is okay, Jungkook refuses to give you more than two word answers.

Eventually, you give up asking and instead begin to silently observe. He constantly toys with the bracelet you had given him last week. He rarely can go a minute without touching it, almost as if he is afraid it might disappear right off his wrist. Jungkook also keeps peering into his backpack and adjusting something inside of it.

It isn’t until Jungkook checks his backpack for the third time in five minutes that you snap. “Okay, that’s it.” You stalk over to his booth, “Why are you acting weird today?” You stop in front of him, arms crossed in front of you. Jungkook’s throat bobs as he swallows nervously, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, noona.”

“Really,” You deadpan, “Then you won’t mind sharing with the class what riveting thing you have in your backpack?”

His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, “How did you know there’s something in my backpack?”

You laugh, “You’re not exactly subtle, Kookie.” His shocked expression turns into a pout as you continue, “I’m just teasing. You don’t have to show me. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything illegal.”

“Illegal?” Jungkook gasps, “Noona! Who do you think I am?”

“I don't know,” You shrug, “You could have a double identity for all I know.”

Mumbling something about infuriating women, Jungkook turns and tugs something out of his bag. Holding it behind his back, he faces you, “I was going to wait until the end of the day to do this, but I guess this is happening now.”

He takes in a shaky breath, “I know that I’m not the best with words. That I’m shy and inexperienced. But, I need to tell you how I feel, because I think I might lose myself completely if I don’t. So, I decided that I would tell you in the language you know well.”

Slowly, Jungkook moves his hands from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of flowers. “These say everything you need to know about what I feel for you.” His hand shakes slightly as he extends the flowers towards you.

Your lungs refuse to work as your eyes cannot seem to look away from the flowers he offers you.

Striped carnations. Those are what he holds out to you. You feel as if he has taken your heart and stomped on it with his massive boots.

Striped carnations… symbolizing a love that cannot be shared. A gesture meaning that ‘he cannot be with you’.

Rejection.

The first tear falls from your eyes as you force yourself to look up at the boy you’ve fallen in love with. How long has he known your feelings for him? Why has he strung you along so much only to hit you with this now? Or have you just been oblivious to his indifference all along? ‘

Jungkook seems to be panicking as he lowers the bouquet back to his side, “Noona, please say something.”

You open and close your mouth, trying in vain to search for words to say, for questions to ask to help you make sense of this blindside.

The only thing you can eventually muster up the strength to say is a shaky “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” You take off, barely stopping to grab your phone and your bag as you run to your truck.

Behind you, you can hear Jungkook frantically shouting your name. He’s probably concerned that he has to monitor both your stall and his. You shake your head as you finally reach your car.

You call Yoongi as soon as you turn out of the parking lot, unknowingly leaving a teary-eyed Jungkook in your wake.

“What?” Yoongi groans when he finally picks up.

You can barely breathe through your tears, “Y-Yoongi, can you swing by the market early to pack up?”

The line is quiet for a second. Then, Yoongi rapidly fires questions at you, “What happened? What did he do? Where are you? Are you okay? Do I need to rough him up?”

You let out a small laugh. At least one person seems to care for you. “I’m okay. Just a bit of an unexpected rejection.” You sniffle, “I’m heading home for the day.”

“Wait,” Yoongi sounds confused, “He rejected you? What the f—”

Cutting him off before he asks you to rehash every painful detail, you sigh, “Yes, he did. Now, please, can you go clean up the stall for me? And don’t say anything to him.”

Yoongi growls something that suspiciously sounds like “Oh, I’ll say something to him, alright”. But before you can voice your suspicions, he agrees and hangs up.

Thank god for Min Yoongi.

The week passes slowly. You spend your days going through your usual motions, working in your shop and assisting customers.

However, after you make your sixth bouquet of marigold (grief), lichen (dejection) and cypress (mourning), Yoongi insists you take a few days off. You surprisingly listen.

On Friday, Yoongi brings you a bunch of yarrow (cure for a broken heart) and nearly runs when you envelop him in a tight hug. He offers to handle the market this weekend, and you don’t have it in you to refuse. But, you only accept on the caveat that Yoongi takes Monday off. You don’t want to take advantage of your employee and your dear friend.

Your weekend is spent by yourself. You stock up on cranberry juice in an attempt to pretend that it will have the same effect of its flower meaning (cure for heartache). Spoiler alert: it does not.

Even watching an exorbitant amount of bad Hallmark movies cannot cheer you up. And when Monday comes, you force yourself to try to be positive.

“It’s fine. This is fine. Totally fine. I’m fine.” You say, pointing at yourself in the mirror, “I’m totally cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.” With a firm nod, you head out.

Opening your shop is one of your favorite things. You revel in the solitude that the early hours bring, the first sips of your morning coffee, the feeling of being surrounded by your flowers.

Your flowers bring you peace – a big reason why persimmon flowers are your favorite. But, you can’t travel down that train of thought today. Nope. Today, you are all about self-love and positivity!

At least you are until 9:01am when your shop has barely been open for 60 seconds and Jungkook bursts through your doors.

The boy looks like a mess. His hair is sticking up in various places like he has run his hand through it too many times, his shirt looks like it’s on inside out, and he is staring at you like you’re a wild animal that might spook at any moment.

And he would not be wrong. You fight down the urge to run, choosing instead to head behind your counter so that there is at least a semblance of a divide between you.

You decide to just rip the bandaid off and attempt to be professional. Staring over his shoulder, you say, “Hello, welcome to Of Fern and Freesia. How can I help you?”

The sound of a stifled sob reaches your ears. Had that come from him? Or from you?

“Noona,” Jungkook finally pleads, his voice rough, “Can’t you at least look at me?”

Slowly, you bring your eyes to his. His large brown eyes search yours for a moment before they fill with determination.

“(Y/n)-noona, I know you’ve been avoiding me,” He approaches the counter, “But I need to know something. I have to or I’m going to lose my mind.”

Jungkook’s hands fall onto the countertop, his eyes blaze into yours, “Noona, is the thought of me loving you really so appalling that you can’t even stand to be around me? Is it really so terrible that we can’t even be friends?”

Your mind short circuits. “Are you making fun of me?” You whisper after a brief pause.

“What?” Jungkook cries, “No! Why would you even think that?”

Anger bursts to the surface as you throw his actions back in his face, “Maybe I think that because you openly rejected my feelings last weekend, Jungkook! Maybe I think that because I’ve stupidly been in love with you for weeks only to have you hand me those damned striped carnations!”

Jungkook looks stricken, “I-I thought carnations meant love a-and fascination?”

Oh. My. Sweet. Baby. Jesus.

Your anger at what you thought was Jungkook’s rejection morphs into rage at the complete and utter idiocy of his misguided confession.

You shake your head at the giant idiot before you, “Yes, you absolute fool. The general meaning of carnations is love, distinction, and fascination. But, how did you not think for one second that meanings might change depending on the color and the type?”

He continues to gape at you as you power on. “Striped carnations symbolize rejection, you colossal moron! They mean that you cannot be with me! You basically slapped me and my love for you with a big, fat nope.”

You watch warily as Jungkook rounds the counter, coming towards you faster than you’d like. But, your mouth is on a roll now, and you can’t stop, “How could any respectable florist interpret that gesture any other way? Hey! What are you even doing? You can’t be back here—!”

Jungkook reaches you, cups your face in both hands, and slams his mouth onto yours. Your eyes widen as he continues to kiss you, and then slowly you begin to return his affections. Your hands slide up his back to twine through his hair.

The cutest whine emits from his throat as you tug on it slightly. “Noona,” He murmurs against your lips, his wide eyes stare into yours, “You really love me?”

You shoot him an exasperated look, “No, Jungkook, I go around kissing everyone who walks into my shop like this.”

He pouts, “So mean to me.” He tries to kiss you again, but you shift out of the way slightly so his lips meet your cheek.

“I reserve the right to be mean after spending an entire week wallowing in unnecessary self-pity following your failed attempt at a declaration of love.” You cock your head slightly, “If that’s even what it was?”

Jungkook blushes, “I really screwed up, huh?” He rests his forehead on yours and sighs, “It was supposed to be perfect. I was supposed to give you something meaningful to show how much I love you and pay attention to your work, but all I did was accidentally push you away. I thought you were rejecting me.”

You press a soft kiss to his lips. “I could never reject you, Kookie. Not even after that.”

“God, I love you, noona,” Jungkook buries his face in your neck. “I missed you so much.”

“I love you, too,” You run your fingers through his hair, “But don’t think you’re getting off this easily.”

“Huh?” Jungkook pulls back, his eyes wide.

“You have a lot of making up to do, Kook,” You grin.

“And what do you suggest I do?” He smiles down at you, affection clear in his eyes.

“Well,” You shrug, “I can think of a few things…”

a/n: flower meanings taken from: The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh (flower definitions may vary depending on the source!! this is just the reference that i chose because i love the book uwu)

✿ Flowers left undefined in the fic:

Fern → sincerity

Freesia → lasting friendship

Peppermint → warmth of feeling

Tiger Flower → please love me* (*as defined by jk)

Tiger Lily → wealth

#bangtanscenerycollab #bangtanscenery #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #goldenclosetnet #jungkook x reader #jjk x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff

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emerysaks · 2 years

Note

Angie the florist and Cap!Peggy!!! Cute with a bit of angst? Pretty please, with a cherry on top?

Fortune Favors the Bold

Angie Martinelli had her hands full of daffodils when the door chimed.

“Be there in just a minute,” she called out. Of all the days for her assistant to be out sick, it had to be on a delivery day. She’d spent the last hour and a half putting flowers away while running back and forth to the counter to help customers as they came in. Fortunately, it was nearing the end of the day, so traffic was dying down.

Stuffing the flowers in a nearby vase, Angie swiped at the water droplets off, dotting her shirt, and hurried out to the counter.

“I appreciate your patience,” she said, eyeing the tall woman whose back was to her as she inspected a shelf with plush animals. “It’s only me today, and… holy shit, you’re Captain Carter.”

Angie’s stared in shock at the woman who had turned around, revealing a familiar visage that had been plastered on every social site, news station, and countless memes. Her dark brown hair was tucked underneath a dark green baseball cap. Still, there was no disguising the piercing eyes or firm chin… not to mention the well-honed physique that was currently doing wicked things to Angie’s insides.

A wry grin lifted the corner of Captain Peggy Carter’s mouth. “Language,” she admonished with a wag of her finger.

Angie flushed and tried to calm down her racing heart. “I’m sorry! I just wasn’t expecting you to be in my shop.”

“I seem to have that effect on people,” she admitted. “Last week, an entire band of hooligans followed me for two blocks taking movies on their telephones.”

Angie raised an eyebrow. “Hooligans?”

“Young boys,” Carter amended.

“And movies on their telephones? Geez, Cap. You need to work on your vocabulary,” Angie laughed before realizing how rude that could sound. “Oh wow. I’m sorry… again. It’s just that you’re so,” she waved at hand up and down at the impressive physique standing before her, “and I crushed so hard on you as a kid, and you’ve literally kicked Nazi ass.” She bit her lower lip and tried again. “You’re a bit much for a girl to take in. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

Carter blinked and cocked her head. “Do you always say this much?” she finally asked.

Angie grinned. “Oh yeah. Usually more.”

“I see.” Carter plucked at the athletic shirt that clung to her body and glanced away, seemingly unsure what to do next.“Did I make it weird?” Angie finally asked. “The whole crush thing?”

That elicited an embarrassed smile from the soldier. “Would you believe I also seem to be getting that a lot?”

Angie vigorously nodded her head. “Absolutely.”

“I’m not quite sure how to take all of it, actually.”

“I wouldn’t know what that feels like,” Angie winked. Was she honestly flirting with Captain Peggy Carter - hero extraordinaire? She thought about it for a moment. Definitely.

“I find that hard to believe,” the superhero smiled.

Holy shit. Was Cap flirting back?

“That’s because you’re an American hero. Or is that a British hero? Either way, you’re required to be nice.” Angie grinned.

The brunette shook her head. “I don’t believe that’s how it works.” She looked around the shop, suddenly seeming to remember why she was here. “However, I do believe you’re required to help me?”

The question was delivered teasingly, and Angie felt her insides melt turn into liquid. Between the twinkling eyes and sinful accent, Angie was a goner. But, she tried to pull herself together.

“It is my flower shop. And, I do need to sell flowers to keep it running.”

“Wonderful. How much would a bouquet of something like that cost me?” She pointed to a nearby arrangement of carnations and wildflowers.

“That’s around $40.”

Her eyes widened. “Prices have certainly changed since I last bought flowers.”

Angie smirked. “Inflation.”

“Indeed,” Carter agreed. She picked up the arrangement and placed it on the counter before digging in her pocket and pulling out a credit card. “Will you take this?”

Angie laughed. “Yeah, I take card, English.”

“English?” She looked up in surprise.“No good?” Angie asked as she rang up the purchase and reached for the card. Their fingers brushed, and it felt like an electrical current jumped from Carter’s hand to hers.

From the way Carter’s cheeks darkened, Angie thought maybe she felt it, too.

“I like it, actually.”

Angie took a breath and decided to shoot her shot. “Anything else you maybe like?”

There was a pause, and then Angie’s heart flip-flopped as her childhood crush slowly trailed her piercing gaze down Angie’s body.

“My, you are a bold one, aren’t you?” she chuckled before reaching back for her card.

Angie handed it to her and smiled. “Probably, but you didn’t answer the question.”

“I like dancing, good food, and even better company,” Peggy Carter finally said. She tilted her head towards Angie. “Any of those things interest you?”

“How about you stop by tonight at eight and find out?” Angie winked.

Peggy grinned and picked up the flower arrangement. “Positively bold,” she laughed. “But I like that.”

Angie smiled. “Fortunate favors the bold, they say.”

“Indeed,” Peggy agreed. “However, you seem to have forgotten one important detail.”

Angie frowned in confusion. “I did?”

Peggy nodded and headed towards the door. “I’m more than happy to come by at eight this evening, but I’m afraid I’ll need a first name to go with the last name on the window,” she smirked.

Angie felt a dull heat flare across her cheeks. She had been so invested in flirting that she hadn’t actually introduced herself. Peggy Carter must think her a fool.

She rubbed the back of her neck and grinned sheepishly. “It’s Angie.”

Peggy looked at her thoughtfully. “Angie Martinelli.”

“That’s me,” Angie nodded.

“It’s a lovely name,” Peggy told her, opening the door. “I suppose I shall see you later this evening, Angie.”

Angie beamed and wiggled her fingers at her in a loose goodbye. “Can’t wait!” She watched the gorgeous woman walk past the window and disappear out of sight.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

Had she really just flirted with and scored a date with the legendary Captain Carter? She pinched herself.

Yep. Wide awake.

She glanced at the clock. Four p.m. She didn’t close for a few more hours, but if she was going to spend the evening with Peggy Carter, she could afford to lose a few hours of income in exchange for getting cleaned and looking her best. She bounced to the door and flipped the sign to “Closed.”

Tonight would be amazing, and she would make sure Peggy Carter would think so enough to agree to a second date.

#peggy carter #captain carter #angie martinelli #agent carter #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction #wlw #prompt

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spritewrites · 3 years

Note

Don’t know if you do this pairing, but for ask meme: Cleric-squad (Jester & Caduceus) for ‘19’

team cleric for the win!!! they're just the cutest, thanks for this prompt

19. “Come on, laugh for me!”

It’s nearly sunset when Jester finds him on the roof. She should’ve looked here first, honestly, but the detour through the kitchen was essential for pastry acquisition, and then Sprinkle found a roach and that was a whole chase sequence, and then all the business with Beau—honestly, it’s a marvel she was able to keep it all straight.

“Ca-doooo-ceus,” she sings. “Are you in the garden?”

“Yep!” A pink head pokes out above some bluish-green fronds that look like fans. His fur is a little smudged with dirt, the way it can get sometimes if he’s really working. She’ll have to track down a Prestidigitation for him later. Oh, or maybe the hot tub will rinse it off!

Focus, Lavorre. Focus.

“I just wanted to come check on you, that’s all.”

“Check on me?” Caduceus stands, brushing at his knees with large fuzzy hands.

Jester kicks a bit, tracing a little dick into the soil with her toe. “Well, there was all that stuff with the undead, and I know—I mean, you talk a lot about how much you don’t like the undead, and I figured it must have spooked you pretty bad. So I wanted to come check on you, and maybe cheer you up!”

Caduceus blinks slowly. “Oh. Well thank you, Jester, that’s sweet— I’ve got some crocuses that I’m trying to make happen, if you want to help. Xhorhas isn’t great for these little guys, but I thought Yasha might not have seen ‘em before—”

She tries not to wrinkle her nose, without much success. All that dirt? No, thanks. “Actually, I was thinking of getting you to laugh.”

“Laugh?” Caduceus says, cocking his head. “What for?”

“Well…” Gosh, it’s so hard to explain things that make so much sense in her head. “We were screaming in terror earlier, so now we should do some laughing to balance it out. That’s what the Traveler’s all about! Equal and opposite, you know?”

“Oh.” Caduceus looks amused, if a bit befuddled. Which is kind of how he always looks. She must be doing a pretty good job explaining, then. “I don’t know any good jokes, though.”

Jester grins, wide and toothy. “That’s okay, I’ve got a better idea!”

She pounces, tail flicking, and just barely manages to avoid shoving him over into a shrub. As it is, he stumbles, making delightfully confused noises, until he regains his balance—just as she sneaks her fingers into the gaps in his beetle armor, prodding mercilessly at his sides. His gentle eyes grow big, and his nose snuffles as he fails to keep back an enormous smile. The ribs under her fingertips shiver a little with the laughter that she knows is sure to follow.

Everybody knows that Caduceus laughs best when he’s tickled.

“Oh, come on, Caduceus,” she giggles, “laugh for me!”

“I’m—pfft, I’m trying—”

“Try harder!” She works one hand around the back of his leg, tickling just above his knee, and the whole thing buckles. He’s giggling outright now, punctuating the sound with snorts and sputtered attempts at half-words.

“Jester—eeehehe, oh please, oh please, not there—”

“Not where?” Jester flashes him a bit of mischievous fang as her fingers find the soft spot on the back of his calf, and he nearly topples over on top of her, snickering. “Not here? But Caduceus, it makes you laugh so much!”

Caduceus snorts again, pushing gently at her horns, but not hard enough to really shove her away. He’s quite compliant, nothing like Caleb or Veth. It would be rather easy to just tickle him into the dirt til he’s laughing so hard he can’t breathe, til he’s forgotten all his troubles and just feels like smiling forever.

She reaches up and squeezes a bit at his side, hooking her nails around his back under the armor, and that does it—he folds, laughing, and falls to the ground with an oof.

Jester bursts into giggles, clutching her stomach. “Good thing you didn’t land on anything pretty, huh!”

For a moment, Caduceus seems primarily focused on recovering oxygen—then he shoots her a rueful look from his landing spot among the daffodils. “Jester, you know I’m much too ticklish for things like that.”

“Sure, sure,” she says, bouncing on her toes. “But do you feel better?”

To his credit, his head tilts, and he gives the notion a proper thinking over. “I do, I suppose.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Jester cries, hugging him tight. Sitting on the ground like this, he’s a perfect hugging size, and she’s able to give him a quick kiss on his hair before he stumbles to his feet. The smile from before is still lingering, and she pokes him again in the side to hear the soft huff of laughter. “Okay, I wanna stick around and help with the garden, I promise I do, but, um… I have to help Beau with a spell okay byeeee!”

She’s a flash of blue on her way out, ducking around tree roots on her way down the stairs, and she only just manages to catch Caduceus’ mumbled “Beau?” before she’s out of earshot. Mission accomplished.

#critickle role #ask meme #these are closed!!!

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uselessalexis165 · 9 months

Text

tried making some ttte memes (266)

#half of dane’s memes just include violence #my edit #my text #thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #thomas and the magic railroad #ttte oliver #ttte douglas #douglas x oliver #ttte james #ttte edward #ttte duck #ttte gordon #ttte lady #ttte oc #ttte dane #ttte 1020 #ttte hawin #daffodil goddess of diesels

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katsukisbeatingheart · 4 years

Text

sing to me

soulmate au where you can hear the songs stuck in your soulmate’s head. the closer you are to them the quieter the music becomes, before the voice changes altogether.

word count: 2,440

a.n.: helo i have a few of these typed up and a few others in progress explicitly for soulmate aus. it’s the least angsty one so far so here you go friends.

(psst here’s dabi’s)

(psst here’s sero’s)

(psst here’s bakugou’s)

listen while you read 👉👈

ao3

Shinso Hitoshi did not sing, and isn’t the type to give even so much as a hum. But when he did—of his own volition, mind you—he never did so in front of people.

Which is how he knew this soulmate bullshit might not actually be all that contrived.

Sometimes he’d catch himself embarrassingly humming or whistling in public—usually to the absolute amusement of his friends and family—stuck with songs in his head he hadn’t even ever heard of. And it was in times like that he’d begin singing something ridiculous back, as his own petty way to clearly say ’stop’.

When the music would disappear, he’d chuckle lightly to himself and continue about his day.

Only to fall asleep that night to you whispering sweet, sweet literal nothings from the far side of his mind. Barbie Girl was a slap and a half, but if he had to check out with it rolling around in his head at two a.m. for the third night in a row, he’d dedicate his waking hours to annoying the hell out of you.

See how you liked it being startled awake—hopefully, he wasn’t 100% on the time difference—by Caramelldansen.

There were even a few times where you’d try to push music into each other at the same time. Like hijacking a radio frequency, you’d change channels on each other all day and all night until it was a warbled cacophony of noise, bordering on a headache big enough for a small city. Rarely would either of you concede, but if and/or when you did, you’d make sure the song was something you both liked.

At any other rate, Shinso had to give you credit for your taste in music; even if he didn’t recognize a fair few, he’d remember the lyrics and scour the internet later looking for them like his life depended on it. He already had a building playlist of the songs you’d sing to him—separate ones for the songs he knew, the songs he didn’t know, and his personal favorites. He kept those to himself like trade secrets, deflecting questions about what he was listening to or what kind of music he had on his phone.

Oftentimes, it was easy to guess how you were probably feeling if he just listened. There were queues of songs that made him feel relaxed and incredibly focused—which he assumed did the same for you—and others that just set him on fire.

Then there were days he felt like he was walking around with water in his shoes and a storm cloud lamenting with taut strings and frail keys. It was days like those that he liked to physically, consciously hum meme audios—or if the sadness was particularly dour, he’d find a quiet place, and sing songs that meant the world to him. Shinso wouldn’t hear anything back, and assume you were singing too.

The music said a lot about you, which was a considerable feat as he had never met you before, and he wanted to be selfish. He didn’t want to spoil what was special to you and him before he even got to see you.

You definitely worked your way around that, the maddening anonymity—using song titles to give away bits of information about one another as generously as you could. Favorite colors, films, seasons; all objective small talk suddenly turned scripture. He amassed everything in a small journal like priceless treasures—carrying around the value of another life in his pocket as casually as a to-do list. He had the music, but something tangible like this put his mind and heart at ease. You were really out there, and Shinso could meet you someday.

It wasn’t a known secret to anyone that subject posed one of his greatest fears. One day finding someone to spend the rest of ever with, with someone else’s song playing in his head.

In more than a few ways, you helped him remain largely optimistic. As long as he could hear you, he could find you, and as he got older and he acquired more freedoms and was just a little surer of himself, there was a chance.

That hope suddenly burned like ice on one derisively beautiful day.

Shinso dragged himself up the flights of stairs leading to his apartment, sliding around the stacks of moving boxes cluttering up the only way home. He tottered down the hall, and stepped through the threshold inattentively humming a new tune he’d heard that day that he thought you might like.

If there was one thing he could ever count on, it was your consistency.

Ever since you were kids, he grew up with annoying, made up nursery rhymes he still had memorized, as though he’d written them himself. They quickly turned into fun jingles, which then morphed into some of the most beautiful melodies he’d ever heard. Those didn’t usually have lyrics though, so it wasn’t like he could look them up to be sure—and yet he somehow knew they were original to you.

It was then that he realized, he had never gone a single day of his life without music.

So, when he sat back after a long night of work and readied himself for at least a few hours’ sleep, he froze. Shinso hadn’t heard a beat of song all day. Not anything besides what might have been jumping around him as he went out for errands or to the agency.

With a harsh shake of his damp hair, he swiped a towel over his stony expression. His clenched jaw was starting to drive an ache into his skull.

You probably slept all day, he reasoned.

Even though he was sure you’d sent songs to him in sleep more than a few times in your life…

No. Absolutely not.

He shook himself free of worries, refusing to end the day with fear in his heart where the music should be.

Instead, he closed his eyes and slipped into a tune he’d fallen asleep to before—one that he was sure you created. It rained over his restless consciousness like sun-drops and star-dew, pulling steady, even breaths out of him and pushing a gentle weightlessness in.

The next morning, however, brought even more questions Shinso was just slightly afraid to have answered. Still no sign of the little voice that sounded like him, but was not his own. He absently picked up on a lilting murmur somewhere from upstairs, and anchored to it the more the weightlessness slowly began disappearing.

Shinso shrugged off his nerves, whistling light and roses into the bathroom mirror through his teeth. He splashed cold water into his face and closed off the tap with a huff, sending a final apprehensive glance to his reflection before heading out the door.

He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly ineffably compelled to turn into the shop on the corner after a quick run to the market—but he is. Maybe it’s the incoherent and yet still familiar ringing in his ears, clear as a bell ushering him along his spontaneity.

Shinso’s morning started jittery and threatened to boil over in anarchical agitation. Strolling down the street with the absence of his wonted metronome, hands in his pockets tapping to the beat of an abandoned drum, he felt he stuck out like a loose screw. He was mindless in his trips to each store as he blindly reached for things he was vaguely sure he needed.

It was when he had stepped out onto the corner that something inexplicable snapped into place.

Shinso jogged across the street and through the inviting doors of a building whose name he hadn’t even bothered to read. He found himself surrounded by chrysanthemums and dahlias before he realized he’s in a floral parlor.

The redolence of fresh soil and ingratiatory verdure engulfed his wearied demeanour; the petals brushed his cheeks, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d suggest that the bouquets were reaching for him. The salvia and larkspur waved from the other end of the aisle, and he followed their purple buds to the other side of the shop.

He stopped to admire the camellias and daffodils, lightly taking them between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

Butterflies.

Hitoshi’s eyes widened with a start, his posture straightening like he’d been struck with lightning.

They fill my guts when I look in your eyes.

He pivoted back and forth on his heels, desperately looking to the flowers for an explanation. A voice filled his head for the first time in nearly two days.

A heart that’s young is filled with sweet surprise.

This time though, the voice isn’t his. It’s clear and ringing and it doesn’t belong to him. The usual warmth he felt basking in the sound of music you whisper in his voice does nothing to compare with the exhilaration frothing in his chest now. Shinso ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, sliding it down his neck and over his shoulder.

It’s really not his, he inwardly surmised. It’s like listening to someone from inside a bubble, though; it’s a round and full sound, but he just knew if it were only slightly louder, the barrier would pop and he’d be free.

Only the innocent can sympathize.

It’s yours.

He brushed past the water lilies, clearing row after row as casually as he could in a futile attempt so as to not appear deranged.

I don’t care

The voice bled into his mind clearer, like watching the gentle shift of river to ocean water through facile currents. He turned the last corner with a breath of anticipation. In a final bit of direction, the lilac, heather, and baby’s breath spilled out of an ornate frame, unquestionably pointing to a figure facing away from him.

“About the funny way you wear your hair,” you crooned. You turned to tenderly repot the rosy begonia cupped in your palms, tucking it in place with the most serene gleam Shinso Hitoshi had ever seen. He sighed, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding for years.

“Someday you’ll let me put my comb up there.”

“’Till then you’re beautiful and I just stare,” Hitoshi finished softly.

You almost dropped your armful of forget-me-nots. Your strangled breath caught in your throat, hooked solely on the man standing there waiting. He gazed at you with an amused smile and crinkled, bruised eyes. It’s reminiscent of a sleepy kitten and if you hadn’t been so shocked, you’d have melted in your shoes.

“I missed your voice yesterday,” he drawled almost lazily, crossing his arms over his chest. You cleared your throat, rolling upright with a swing of your hands as they lock together at your back.

“I was going to say the exact same thing.”

His movements reminded you of a large jungle cat, stalking forward with a controlled lethargy tensed in anything but. As eager as you were, you matched him beat for beat, dragging your quivering legs in delicate strides down the aisle.

“So, is this supposed to mean we met sometime yesterday then?”

He stood right in front of you, finally close enough to recognize as the nameless and faceless childhood friend you’d been listening to since you could think on your own. You stepped into him, coming to a stop just before the tips of your shoes met his.

“It’s likely.”

“No way,” he said with a resolute shake of his head. “I’d remember you if that were the case.”

“You sound so sure of yourself.”

He stared you down with a focus you wouldn’t expect from eyes as exhausted looking as his.

“I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.” You bashfully tugged at the fabric of your clothes, the warmth in your chest spreading upwards to beam across your face. Flattening your palm against the expanse of his collar bone, you idly swung your hands over the surface like a pendulum.

“Maybe we just missed each other then—crossed paths without finishing them,” you suggested, twirling a lock of purple around your finger.

“You wouldn’t happen to be moving in somewhere, would you?”

Your head jerked with a small start to twist at him quizzically. How could he possibly know that?

“In a complex a few blocks away from here, yes. Why?”

Shinso’s smile broke into parts amusement and incredulity.

“Looks like I’m your new neighbor,” he grinned. My neighbor? You lit up, eyes twinkling with excitement.

“That means—!”

“You’re stuck with me, yeah.”

“That can’t be such a bad thing,” you started, dropping your voice to push into him more, “—after all, I’m a little new to the area.” You blinked, letting a coquettish simper slide across your features.

“I could do with some sort of guide if I’m going to survive out here, you know.”

“I think I know a guy,” he murmured, a strained husk in his volume.

“Oh, you do, do you?” you whispered under fragile breaths.

“Yeah,�� he said, leaning down to angle his face with yours. Just as you reached in to touch his lips, he pulled back suddenly, tapping his finger to his chin in thought. “Tall, blond, black streak of lightning across his bangs—hard to miss. I’ll introduce you; probably just your type.”

You rolled your eyes and punched his shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt in an iron fist.

“How could you possibly know my type?”

You pulled his stupid happy face to yours and kissed the mischief out of him, and he dissolved into a tender mess under your fingertips. All of this was new and unexpected, but he imagined seeing, meeting, and eventually kissing you going much different. Shinso hadn’t expected colliding like old, familiar friends; Shinso hadn’t expected missing the way you pressed into him, as though you’d done it a thousand times before. This was a first kiss between two people, but not the first time you’d ever touched.

“Be careful,” he sighed, voice richly warm, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

You languidly pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth, tracing time signatures into his jawline.

“Have been since we were kids, thanks for noticing.”

“You mean to tell me Mr. Snuffles Is My Best Friend was actually for me? I’m flattered.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Absolutely not about one of my favorite stuffed animals.”

“That’s good to know. And here I was thinking I would have to challenge a teddy bear for your hand.” You laughed heartily, pressing your forehead into his chest.

“Can I walk you home?”

You fingered the fabric of his shirt, leaning in to feel the rhythm of his heart. It was the prettiest song you had ever heard.

“I’m already there.”

#my hero academia x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #bnha x you #bnha reader insert #bnha imagines #mha imagines #soulmate au #bnha soulmate au #officer im babey #and i love him #my writing #a123 #shinsou hitoshi x reader

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lisbonsteresa · 3 years

Note

let me be a clown and send LucyxRyan for the ship ask meme (if you're still doing it!)

CHARLIE 🥲

yes of course we're all clowns here honk honk but i WILL be thinking of these only in the happiest 'Lucy lives; the townfolk are not dicks; Hudson Enterprises is somehow taken down; Everett chokes on his own self-importance; Ryan keeps a small amount of his money and he and Lucy lead a slightly nicer than modest life with Nancy in HB' kind of context

1. Who buys flowers for the other

When they first started dating, Ryan told Lucy he'd buy out a flower shop just to make her smile. She'd laughed then, and when she opened her locker a few days later and nearly 100 daisies came spilling out she laughed again and kissed him soundly once she found him (he's mellowed out a bit in his 'old age' as Nancy puts it but he still gives Lucy flowers at any possible occasion - i picture daisies and yarrow and maybe daffodils bc i like lucy and yellow but i'm reading too much into flower meanings now) (also in the real timeline there's a bouquet of pink carnations that shows up on Lucy's grave twice a year - her birthday and the day she died - and no one knows where they come from but also everyone knows where they come from and also i'm sad)

2. Who makes the other coffee/tea

Lucy makes Ryan coffee almost every morning - usually to-go so he can have it on his way to work as Carson Drew's legal assistant (it was an unlikely partnership but the Sables ryan took lucy's name argue with the wall and the Drews are super close and Carson and Kate spoil their goddaughter Nancy rotten)

And Ryan makes Lucy tea almost every night and they sit on the couch with their legs all tangled while he reviews briefings and she grades assignments (she teaches creative writing/poetry at a local community college) (Nancy complains almost every time she comes home from a shift at the Claw or a night out with a certain dishwasher *ahem* to find them like this because 'get over yourselves you're not 17 anymore' but she does it with a giant grin on her face and they always find space for her to squeeze in between them)

3. Who eats the most candy on Halloween

Ryan - Lucy prefers ice cream to candy when it comes to sweets, but she does pick up a back-up bag every year so 'there's some left over for the other children' (they all laugh at it now but Nancy wasn't laughing that time she was 11 and she found the wrappers for all her missing trick-or-treating loot in her dad's office trash)

4. Who tries new recipes all the time

Lucy is the only one who tries any recipes, because somehow even after nearly 20 years and raising a child together, her cooking skills still have yet to start to rub off on Ryan (he's there to assist with anything he can and he always does the dishes to compensate, but any time Lucy is away for the weekend or having dinner out with her mom and Josh, Nancy knows it's going to be a take out night honestly they're both thankful ryan stopped trying after he nearly burned the house down trying to cook a frozen pizza)

5. Who genuinely likes pineapple on pizza

Both - Lucy's loved it since she was little, and Ryan always made fun of her for it until she finally forced him to try a slice and now he won't shut up about how good it is (neither of them can convince Nancy, however)

6. Who wears hats on special occasions

....Neither....Lucy doesn't like how she looks in hats and Ryan doesn't like how they 'ruin' his hair (the only exception - a special occasion, if you will - is when Carson and Ryan get together to watch/go to a baseball game because they Dad-out and Ryan has to show his team his support)

7. Who likes ‘90s R&B

Ryan - technically, being teens in the 90s, they both enjoy it, but I just picture Lucy being more of a singer-songwriter kind of gal

8. Who likes long walks on the beach

Both - they are insanely sappy fight me and they love long walks at sunset (and they also loved when Nancy was younger and they'd swing her between them...when they were able to pull her away from studying the tide pools and/or other beachgoers...) (but also: it takes the Sables a while to warm up to Ryan and him going on long walks with them really helped them get to know/like him more as a person rather than a Hudson)

9. Who buys wacky picture frames

They don't so much buy them, but during elementary school Nancy went through a big moment of making those popsicle-stick picture frames (she colored them horribly with puffy paint and threw pom-poms and glitter all over them) and they have yet to get rid of any of them (even when they start falling apart and she begs them to)

10. Who compares themselves to fictional/celebrity couples

'I mean, to be fair, we kind of were a celebrity couple for a while there' 'Being in the papers for your father tanking his company and being brought up on 12 counts of tax evasion is not really the kind of celebrity you think it is sweetheart'

11. Who can solve a rubix cube

It might take them a few days, but eventually they can get it together (they do not, however, do so very often because Ryan is still pouting over the time his 8 year old daughter solved it in less than half the time it took him)

12. Who would wear Hawaiian shirts on vacation/during the summer

You cannot convince me Ryan would not (it's one of the first things he and Ace bond over - he likes his daughter's taste in men's taste in casual wear)

13. Who wears mismatched socks because they can’t keep up with the pairs

Lucy is meticulous with sock matching whenever she does a load specifically because Ryan's philosophy seems to be 'eh, they're both white....it's probably fine'

#i may have made these a BIT saccharine but who's going to say anything? you're going to tell me they don't deserve that?#i am open to doing teen lucy/ryan too but also.....it would hurt me #(but i will probably do it)#ask games #nd #longpost

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im-not-a-joke · 4 years

Note

Mmh... All the field

the whole- the whole field....

thank you for asking, this is going to be one long post

Alisons: Sexuality?

asexual, unlabeled/queer romantic

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

they/them or he/him, nonbinary

Amaryllis: Birthday?

february 4th

Anemone: Favorite flower?

bleeding heart

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

steven universe

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

probably offer a place to sleep overnight

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

“Do you think God stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he’s created?”

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

strawberry lemonade

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

my gf? yes, absolutely.

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

i’d like to think so, yes

Baneberries: Favorite song?

currently “better than me” by the brobecks

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

a mess, i have three siblings, and two of them are currently living at home, we also have two large dogs

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

yes! my best friend anna, and her brother bryan!

Begonia: Favorite color?

purple

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

mantis shrimp

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

night person

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

dog, i want the constant love and affection

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

first a botanist, then a geologist

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

i want to adopt some someday! sometimes they suck, but i want to be there for someone who doesn’t have a family to lean on.

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

abandonment, because i’m annoying

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

i shared a room with my little brother until i was like 12.

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?

visiting all the people i love most, all of my friends, my gf, i’d call my sister

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

taken!

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

france

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

when people take the time out of their day to talk to me

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?

nope, i do want some someday, though

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?

yes! i got my ears pierced twice because it ripped my earlobe the first time

California Poppy: Height?

~5′8″

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

yes, and if i die before any of my friends, i’m coming back to haunt them

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?

a floral tank top, my favorite sleeveless cardigan, and jean shorts

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

yes, my little brother was afraid of the dark and insisted on having a nightlight on

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?

my mom

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

my gf

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

architect’s daughter

Columbine: Are you tired?

yes, very

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

tomorrow i get to leave the house all day to drive across the state and it’s going to be a lot of fun

Coneflower: Dream job?

language teacher! either english to people who don’t speak it or german/french to english speakers

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

introvert. i’m on tumblr all day

Crocus: Have you ever been in love?

yeah, i think so

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

i’d actually die for multiple people in my life

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

yes! a stuffed white dog with a plaid scarf and matching antlers! my friend got it for me because it reminded her of my big white dog.

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

aquarius

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

once i came 3rd in my age group for a 5k i ran

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

i successfully kept a frail axolotl alive for an entire summer

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?

i dont care what my parents think about stuff like that, they cant tell my who i am or am not allowed to date

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

@byler-obsessed literally like, maybe 15 minutes ago as of writing this

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

i’d like to think i’m decent at singing

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

staying awake during the day

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

i saw my gf for the first time in months! i came out to the girls team for xc! i spent a lot of time with one of my closest irl friends!

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

decent, i had coach practice, which was nice

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

yeah, i’d say i’m pretty happy where i am

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

learn guitar

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

my best friends anna and bryan, my older brother, the girls on the team, my ukulele, my therapist, my dogs, the creek in my back yard, my grandma’s amish apple dumpling recipe, random internet memes, books

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?

listening to my spotify playlist

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

reassurance and/or talking about things that i enjoy, i’m really insecure so if i’m talking about something i like, that’s me trusting you.

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

the mental health progress i’ve made

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

i lay in bed until like 11, then, i spend the rest of the day out with my friends, we get sushi for dinner and stay up until like 3am

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?

be on tumblr

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

i met them both in 6th grade, anna nad i were in the same science class and i met bryan at lunch, he didn’t talk to me for at least the first half of the year.

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

bryan, he always knows just what to say, and knows that he doesn’t have to fix my problems to be a good friend.

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

like, 13?

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

my friend once told me that they couldn’t tell if i was a boy or girl upon first meeting me and it made my day.

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

i’m a mess, an anxious, depressed, gay mess

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

my hair, it’s really fluffy and soft, and just about light enough to dye bright colors

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?

my chest, it’s always been a huge part of my dysphoria and i want it gone please

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

i would play dress up with my dog, he had to suffer through wearing all my old dresses, but he got treats so it was ok

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

my friend ry, we met in second grade, we’re still on and off friends, currently off

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

in 5th grade i used the word “suck” in class and got yelled at

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?

see above answer

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

carson: christian. it’s my name because i like how it sounds, and anna really liked it too, she picked it for me.

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

white, suburban ohio. all the kids had cliques by the second day of kindergarten, and if you were knew, you generally had a pretty good chance of being picked up by the popular kids.

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

i had bunkbeds with my little brother, i slept on the bottom.

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?

so far, not really. i’m just mentally ill and closeted, it’s not great

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

she likes to dye her hair crazy colors, and she used to be a beekeeper, even though she’s allergic to bee stings.

Onions: Tell about your dad.

he rides his bike almost every day, and supports my mom in whatever she does

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

on my mom’s side, the kindest boomers i’ve ever met, my grandpa used to take us on “adventures” to the park and just watch us play

on my dad’s side: my grandpa loves seeing us but doesn’t get out much, my grandma laughs hysterically at every family gathering, and has all the best amish recipes

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

when i turned 13, i went ice skating for the first time and fell and sprained my wrist

Peony: What was your first job?

mowing lawns

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

we had mutual friends and slowly ended up being close, we were in school plays and track together.

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

i bite down on my finger to simultaneously distract myself, focus on something else, and hold myself back

Pink: Where is home?

my best friends’ living room at 1 am, with the golden girls playing in the background

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?

i’d go back and stop current president from becoming president

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

my sister, she has always been driven and passionate and talented, and she makes everything seem effortless and still gives it her all.

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

me and my spouse and my kids amd my dogs all live in a decently spacious house in europe, my job is stable and i love my work, my students think i’m cool and come to me if they need help, i am doing well.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

i used to believe that the smoke from fireworks was where clouds came from

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

my best friends

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

the sound of rain on my roof at night

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

when my sister, dad, and i all climbed to the top of a mountain in california

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

throwing up in the car on the way home for visiting my sister in new york

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?

a hug from anna

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

it’s hard because i don’t trust people

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

the internet

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

like 5.5 hours

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

to run, it makes me feel better and i love cross country

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

lmao i dont have one

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

my binder!

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.

the record player song but a boy

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

a list of reasons why you deal with me/things you like about me

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

the fact that this is taking a lot longer than anticipated and i don’t want people to think i’m ignoring their asks

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

actual books? only 2, Catcher in the Rye and the Night Circus

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

out with my friends

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?

yes, and i regret it

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

i’m double jointed in my left pinky

#fuck dude this took forever #long post #carson rambles

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