#I expect a bouquet of daisies soon

[vicsnook]

Cowboy Let Me Take You Away | Rhett Abott x Reader

word count: 1874

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+, Fluff

notes: Hi Y’all! I think it was about time I finally wrote a little something something for my Rhett girls. In this universe Rhett and Bob are twins so think maybe Bob Abott or Rhett Floyd 👀? Anyways I hope you all enjoy and please don’t forget to like/reblog (thank you for your previous ones 🫶🏼). I might do Rhett Fridays from here on out so be on the lookout!

Rhett and you had been introduced by his twin brother Bob at a work Christmas party and had been talking ever since, still you weren’t sure what exactly you two were. Yet here you were landing in Wyoming to see him. You spot the baggage claim sign easily as you disembark and head down to the first floor to get your bag. To say that you’re feeling nervous was an understatement. This moment had been months in the making and it was finally here.

Sure Rhett always texted you good morning, sent you letters, gifts on your birthday, and wasn’t seeing other girls but neither of you had taken the step to make things official. You never planned on falling for Bob’s brother right before a 6 month deployment and surely you didn’t expect him to wait on you but things seemed to be working in your favor. Your hands shake as you pull your bag from the carousel and head towards the front door to meet Rhett and even though you’ve imagined this moment a million times over the past few months, nothing could prepare you for how you felt now. He was standing with a bouquet of flowers on one hand and smiled as soon as he saw you.

Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest as you let go of your bag and jump into his open arms. His head resting on yours as you bury your face in his chest, inhaling the scent of pines and leather that you’d missed so much. Loving never came easy for you but here in Rhett’s embrace, you couldn’t help but want to scream those 3 words. While pulling away, you think of kissing him but are interrupted by him handing you the flowers. Daisies, your favorite.

“I um, got these for ya.” He says with that crooked smile you love so much. His ears have a tinge of pink as you give him a peck on the cheek and thank him. You both sneak glances at each other on the ride home while making small talk and he finally grabs your hand after you set it on the console. When he drives into the town you’ve heard so much about over the past couple of months you feel the need to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

You take a deep breath as you follow him up the steps to his small apartment. The walls are wooden, various rodeo posters are hanging on the wall, and on the nightstand you spot a picture of you both that Bob took the night you met. The same picture that was your phone lockscreen now. He sets your bag by the bed and you finally meet his beautiful blue eyes but you can’t seem to say a damn word as he takes a step closer to you and his hand grabs the back of your neck.

“Been wantin’ to do this for a while,” he whispers, finally closing the distance between you. Your fingers play with his hair as he kisses you softly and you can’t help the moan that escapes you when he tugs at your hair. Months of daydreaming and crappy phone sex all leading to this. His calloused hands make their way to the back of your thighs and you press closer to him as he lifts you up into his arms and pins you up against the wall.

Your fingers crumple his shirt as he kisses you roughly and passionately now. To feel him hard against you had you nearly begging him to rip your clothes off. He moves on from your lips and down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses on it. “God, you taste so sweet darlin’. Where’ve you been my whole life?” He mutters against your ear making shivers run through your body.

Your fingers undo the buttons on his shirt and he presses you even harder against the wall as he rips it off, the last few buttons scattering on the floor. Rhett pulls off your shirt and his hands are instantly pulling down the cups of your bra. You blush at his stare but can’t even think about it too much because his mouth is quickly sucking on your swollen bud. “Fuck Rhett, I need you,” you moan as he nibbles on your nipple. He leaves your nipple and captures you back into a heated kiss while making his way to the bed, carefully setting you on to it and climbing on top of you.

But as your hands make your way to undo his belt, you’re interrupted by a knock on the door. “Who the fuck?” he grunts against your neck and you chuckle at his exasperation. “Here baby,” he says as he passes you your shirt and pulls his back on, not bothering to try and button it up.

“Bob? I thought you weren’t in ‘til ‘morrow?” Rhett asked Bob who was the one that’d been knocking. You mentally cursed yourself for forgetting to tell Rhett that Bob was supposed to come today and you’d mixed up the dates. “Y/N didn’t tell ya? She got the days mixed up.” He replied, making his way inside and waving at you. “Oh shit, I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?” Bob knew the messy hair and swollen lips were indicative of your previous activities with Rhett and wanted to kick himself for not texting before coming. “No shit.” If looks could kill, Bob would certainly be dead thanks to Rhett’s stare.

“Okay okay, my bad, I’ll see y’all at moms for dinner.” Bob said, raising his hands in defense and scurrying out the door before anything else was said. “Now, where were we?” Said Rhett, making his way back to you but was interrupted by the door once again.

“What now?” he asked Bob, annoyed at the continuous interruptions. “Sorry, my truck won’t start. Can I borrow yours? I’ll come fetch y’all later.” Bob said hurriedly, his hands were in his pockets and his eyes looked at the floor like it might just swallow him. “Here.” Rhett said, handing him the keys and shutting the door before Bob could interrupt anything else.

“Come here, baby” You said, sitting up on the bed and pulling him down to you as he reached the bed. He was quickly back on top of you, discarding yours and his shirts. Rhett moved his hand behind you, undoing your bra with ease and throwing it to the floor and in turn you pull off his undershirt, trailing your hands through his chiseled abs. At the action, he pressed his hard cock against your clothed cunt and you rolled your hips forward, moaning at the friction.

Rhett’s lips crash again onto yours and you lift your ass as he pulls off your jeans trying not to break the kiss. “My favorite color,” he muttered as his eyes flicked down to the lacy red thong you’d picked out earlier in the week. “Just for you,” you mumbled into his neck, as he tore the piece of underwear off you and stuffed it into his jeans pocket.

His hips rolled against your bare cunt, making you arch your back while he grinned. You tried reaching for his belt but he was quick to swat you off. “Not yet,” he said, trailing kisses down your chest and only stopping once he reached your thighs. His blue eyes burning into yours as he kissed the inside of your thigh then used his fingers to spread your folds open. He didn’t break eye contact as he began to suck on your clit and your hands instinctively reached down to tug on his hair.

You whine as he pushes his index finger in and out of your cunt. “So wet for me,” he whispers against you, and you try to respond but the words die on your lips as he pushes another finger inside you. Your legs squeeze against his head and Rhett lets out groan against you, sending shivers down your spine. Pleasure washing over you as he increases his speed and soon you’re gripping his sheets, moaning loudly as you reach your high. “That’s it, cum for me honey,” he commands as his fingers work you through your high and you’re pushing him away shakily.

He moves back up and pulls you in for a kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. This time he lets you pull off his belt along with jeans and underwear. The feeling of his cock against your cunt makes you arch your back and Rhett takes the opportunity to press open mouthed kisses on your neck. You feel him line up against your entrance and slowly he sinks his cock into you until he bottoms out.

“Goddamn, you’re so tight honey,” He moans as he begins to push in and out of you, slowly letting you adjust to his length. Your place your hands on his shoulders and he lifts your leg slightly, allowing him to sink deeper into you. “Fuck Rhett,” you moan as he picks up the pace and the head of his cock continuously hits your g-spot. “Feel good?” He asked in between breaths but you couldn’t even reply because he thrusted harder into you.

He could feel you clenching around him as you scratched his back. His fingers played with your clit and you both moaned in unison as his thrusts started to become sloppier. His other hand gripping your waist tightly. “That’s it darlin’” He cooed as you arched your back and your legs began to shake. “That’s it,” he continued, fucking you through your orgasm. His grip on you tightened and you could feel his cock twitch as he spilled inside you.

Rhett leaned in and placed a kiss on your cheek, both of you breathing heavily. “Was it better than you imagined?” you asked, your eyes still closed. “Ask me again, after I fuck you tonight.” He responded, pulling out of you slowly, you could feel his cum pouring out of you and onto the sheets. “Be right back,” He said as he disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a damp towel. He was careful as he cleaned you up then helped you into one of his shirts, finishing by pressing a kiss against your temple.

You watched him slide on his underwear and felt your heart squeeze as you realized how much you didn’t want this week to end. The offer he made you of moving with you to California until your contract was over, now had an easy answer. “I’m so glad Bob dragged me to that Christmas party,” you told him, laying your head on his chest as he rubbed circles on your back. “Yeah?” He kissed your head, pulling you closer. “Mhm, and um, yes.” You replied, smiling against him.

“Yes what?” He asked, pulling back to look down at you. “I want you to come with me to California.” “Wait, really?” His eyes lit up at your statement and he pulled you in for a hug as you nodded. “I’m so glad you let Bob’s aggravating ass drag you to that Christmas party, baby.” You smiled, for once letting love be easy.

#top gun fandom #top gun maverick #bob floyd #rhett abbott #rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbot smut #outer range

[flowersbane]

YESSSSS THANK YOU!!! I read your Joshua x Jote fic and I love the flower festival idea!! PLEASE GIVE THAT BOY SOME SLEEP AND ROSES!!! (*≧∀≦*) I’m glad I could inspire you and can’t wait for pt. 2! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

you are most welcome!! thank YOU for your request, i had so much fun writing it! thank you for your patience & i hope you enjoy part 2!

(=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

Stop & Smell the Roses, pt. 2

Joshua Rosfield x Jote

Joshua and Jote spend some time at the festival. Joshua's eager interest for the festival may have been a bit more than Jote had expected.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags: Flower Festival, Jote Worries And Joshua Scurries (Off Somewhere), Festival Shenanigans, Fluff, Cutesy, Sweet Words And Sweeter Declarations, Jote Appreciation, The More Carefree Half Of The Story, Unedited

You can read part 1 here!

The following morning, Jote woke before Joshua. She pulled on her cloak and gloves, careful not to wake the sleeping Phoenix. He looked so much younger in his sleep. She could almost imagine him as an ordinary boy, not bound by prophecy or duty or his unyielding ailments. She would’ve liked to see a world where Joshua Rosfield was unburdened. But this was not that world.

She pulled on her boots before quietly exiting the room. The downstairs tavern was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers who were still passed out at various tables. She approached the bar and ordered two plates of breakfast. After paying, she took the plates upstairs. She had to place one of them down in order to open the door. She kept note of which it was to ensure that it was not the one she would serve His Grace.

Joshua was awake when she re-entered the room, but it looked as though he had only just awoken. “Jote,” he got up to help her, holding the door and softly closing it behind her.

“Good morning. I hope I did not wake you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Jote offered him the first plate. He nodded his thanks. 

The two sat in silence for a few moments as they began to eat. After several minutes had passed, Joshua spoke again. “The markets will open soon. Once we are finished eating, we should make our way outside to begin our search.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Breakfast was as uneventful and peaceful as it was most mornings. The day was young and the hour was too early for trouble to find them. Joshua slid his sword into its sheath and pulled his hood over his head. He led the way downstairs and out, onto the streets that were slowly beginning to crowd. He glanced from side to side before settling on a direction.

The streets were lined with floral decorum and eager merchants. They focused on Jote as she passed, no doubt finding her much more approachable than the cloaked man she walked with.

“Fresh preserves, come get your fresh preserves!”

“We have the sweetest honey you’ll ever find!”

“Buy a bouquet for your wife! Steal her heart all over again!”

“You there, young lass, you look like you know how to appreciate a fine bottle of wine!”

Jote looked away from the merchants. From what she could see, Joshua seemed completely unbothered by them. He was walking at a moderate pace, head directed forward, when suddenly his path was cut off by a small child.

“Fresh flower crowns, milord, I’m selling fresh flower crowns! Only three gil a piece!” She was carrying a basket of flowers and looked to be around five or six years old. Her round cheeks were flushed and her reddish brown hair was tied into two pigtails on either side of her head.

Jote stepped forward to guide the child out of their path, but Joshua raised a hand to stop her. “Lord Margrace?”

He crouched down, allowing the hood to fall from his head. “Let’s see what you have then, shall we?”

The little girl’s face lit up. She shuffled around her flower crowns until she found one that was on the thinner side. A circle of daisies was lined by greenery, bound together by a white ribbon in the back. “I think this one would suit you best,” she said.

He allowed her to place the crown on his head. He turned to look up at Jote. “Well? What do you think?”

She did her best to ignore the quickened beating of her heart. “It’s lovely, my lord.”

Joshua turned back to the girl. “I would like to buy this piece, please, along with something for my friend here.”

The girl’s grin widened and she nodded. She took out a second crown for Jote and presented it to her. This one was thick with deep emerald leaves and violet flowers. “For you, milady.”

“Thank you.” Jote handled the piece with gentle fingers. She glanced at Joshua. He gave her an encouraging nod. Her face still warmed as she placed the crown on her head.

The girl held out an open palm to Joshua. “That will be 10 gil!” she declared.

Joshua raised his brows, but he did not sound at all offended when he asked, “10 gil?��

“3 for each crown, 2 for each consultation.” She sounded like she was struggling with that last word, still too unpracticed in language to gracefully speak it.

Joshua chuckled. He paid her exorbitant fees and the girl dashed off. Jote took a step closer as Joshua got to his feet. “Your Grace…” she said in a low voice.

“It’s alright, Jote. We have the funds to spare.”

Her doubtful look remained. Joshua only smiled and continued their path through the merchants’ stalls. He kept his hood down, which unnerved Jote, but she saw the look on his face. The small joy. She couldn’t bring herself to interrupt it. Just for today, she told herself.

They eventually crossed a stall manned by an old woman. It was cloaked in squares of dark fabric, but through its opening, Jote could see that the inside glowed with candlelight. “Ah, you two, lovebirds,” the woman called.

Jote blushed at her obscene accusation. Joshua only grinned and approached. “This is quite the setup you have here,” he said.

Hardly. Jote kept her disagreements to herself. If this is meant to be a fortune teller’s tent, she has everything all wrong. 

“You look as if you have traveled much, milord. No doubt there is much you have yet to discover. I could help you get a step ahead. For a fair price, of course.”

There was no way His Grace would– 

“Why not? Sounds interesting.”

Jote gawked at him, mouth fallen ajar. “Lord Margrace,” she attempted to caution.

He only glanced over his shoulder and shrugged, as though he was just as helpless as she was. She hesitantly followed him into the woman’s tent. Joshua sat on the bench closest to the entrance while Jote stood just behind him and to his left. The woman took the seat across from him.

“I do things a little differently from other tellers,” the woman explained.

You don’t say. Jote tried and failed to keep her cynicism from her face.

“I use flowers to see into the otherworld. They communicate things to me known only by the land.”

Jote crossed her arms over her chest. If that were true, why waste your time selling fortunes on the side of a road? 

The woman’s attention suddenly turned to Jote. “Oh, please, dear, take a seat too. You are also part of this journey, are you not?”

Jote stalled, refusing to move from her spot near the exit until Joshua turned to look at her. He patted the empty spot on the small, wooden bench next to him. She gave him a look. Are you serious, Your Grace? He returned it with one of his false pleas. Please, Jote. She sighed and crossed the small, empty space between them. There was barely enough room for two people. When she sat beside him, there was no way to keep their legs from touching. He didn’t seem to mind so Jote tried to ignore the contact.

“Please,” Joshua invited the woman to begin.

The supposed-teller spread out a variety of flowers onto the deep purple tablecloth. She ran her fingertips over the petals, closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath. “Your travels have not been easy,” she said. Jote was unimpressed. The woman continued, “for they have come with a heavy burden. Not one easily seen.” Jote stirred a little in her seat. It was still too vague to mean anything, but she didn’t like the idea that the woman would guess anything correct about them. “The good thing is, the two of you have each other.”

Now Jote’s face was warming up. Joshua flashed her an affectionate smile, but the best she could do was a quiet hum, small nod, and an awkward, upwards twitch of the corners of her lips. He seemed satisfied with that as he turned his smile back to the woman. Her gaze was locked on Jote. It startled her for a moment, eyes widening when they met the old woman, but there was nothing to be alarmed about in the woman’s face.

“He is very dear to you.” Her heartbeat quickened. “You are the winter to his summer, the thunder of his lightning, the shadow of his flame.” She tried to keep still in her seat, but it just made her posture frigid. “The flowers say the two of you have been together for a long time, and you have longer, still, to be by each other’s side.”

Joshua was still entirely unconcerned. “That’s good to hear, isn’t it?”

She gave him a worried look, but his expression only made her sigh. “Yes, my lord.”

The fortune teller continued to make general, open-ended statements for a few more minutes. Once she was done, Joshua paid her fee and the two stepped back outside.

“That was intriguing, wouldn’t you say?”

“You cannot truly believe she had the ability to speak to the planet through flowers–”

But he was already several yards away; scanning the area for the next extortion he could become the victim of, no doubt. Jote sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, and quickened her pace to catch up with him.

She was glad he was taking the time to enjoy the festival, but she wondered if she had relaxed too much. By the time the sun was beginning its descent across the sky, they were down a couple hundred gil and still nowhere near completing their task at hand. Of course, all of the merchants with useful wares were located at the end of the street. Joshua purchased more supplies for travel. After some convincing, he also bought more supplies for medicine.

Jote relaxed over the stretch of the day. How could she not? The Phoenix’s joy was as catching as his flames. She had thought she had wanted him to take time to rest, but seeing his smile, seeing the curiosity that sparked in his crystalline eyes every time they crossed something new, she knew this had been what she wanted all along. Even if it could only last a short amount of time, he would be Joshua today. Not the Phoenix, not an archduke or the leader of the Undying, just Joshua.

They were nearing the end of the market when the voice of a middle-aged man with dark hair and a short beard reached them.

“Fresh roses,” he called. “Good for decor, freshness, and softening your lover’s heart.”

Joshua tossed a playful grin in her direction as he pivoted his steps to head towards the rose stall instead. “I’d like to buy one,” he told the florist.

“Ah, of course, my travel-worn friend, please, select whichever you’d like.”

It didn’t take long for Joshua to make his decision. The florist wrapped the stem in thick, brown paper and Joshua paid him. As he and Jote continued their walk, he held the flower out to her.

“My lord…” Receiving a gift from him felt like diving into a deep pool from a cliffside edge that was almost too high to trust. She did not immediately reach to take it from him. Instead, her hand lingered by her chest, fingers in the proper formation to hold the stem.

“It’s a gift, Jote. Take it. Please.”

She reached for it, handling it like it was made from the thinnest glass. “Thank you, Your Grace.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it.

He tipped his head upwards, face met with the golden, afternoon rays. “You were right to have us stop here,” he said. “You would think by now I would have learned that I need not doubt you. For if I know one thing in this world, it is that you will always act with my best interest at heart.”

Jote could not look away from him. Her mind told her that she was staring, that she should say something, but her heart had seized every muscle in her body. He had seized every part of her. The last thing she wanted was for him to let go.

When she remained silent, he eventually laughed. It was an affectionate, kind sound. She did not need to say anything. He knew. He extended his arm, holding out his hand with his palm facing upwards. “Come. Let us return to the inn. We will find something to eat along the way.”

It would be improper of her to hold his hand. But it would also be improper of her to refuse him. She passed the rose into her right hand and took his in her left.

“Always,” she whispered.

“Hm?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I will always remain by your side.” She spoke louder this time, but only just so he could catch her words.

His smile was natural. Because he knew. He didn’t need to say anything. Because she knew too. She’d known for a very long time. They both had.

“And I will treasure every second of it,” he swore.

#ff16 #ffxvi #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16 #ffxvi spoilers #final fantasy 16 spoilers #final fantasy xvi spoilers #ff16 spoilers #joshua rosfield x jote #jote #joshua rosfield #fanfic

[rikitachiquita]

come back… be here | ni-ki

✧ synopsis: working at a cafe can be really fun: the customers being nice, cracking jokes with your coworkers, singing while brewing coffee and so on. but it's even more fun when two members of the staff bicker and fight all day and keep everyone entertained. that's what  hybe cafe is like, thanks to ni-ki and y/n.

⋆06 flower boys (written 1.1k)

y/n was at home. bored.

it was her day off and she was supposed to have a day to herself. and she was having it, she actually did. she had woken up at 9 am, made a cute, healthy breakfast (oats with banana and maple syrup and an iced maple syrup latte), she had gotten ready, did her skin care, wore a cute comfy outfit,  she even started a journal, watched a new kdrama and made lunch for her brother and herself. 

but she was bored. soobin had come home for about 45 minutes, just enough time to eat lunch with his little sister. she had gone soon after and y/n was left alone.

she couldn’t call any of her friends, considering that they were all occupied. beomgyu was working his shift, kazuha was taking her a ballet class, gyuvin was in a lecture, her brother, as she already said, was working and yeonjun was in his little flower shop.

and that’s when finally, a good idea came to her mind: she could visit his brother’s best friend’s flower shop!

she quickly changed into a cute outfit and put on her usual make up: she liked to be always put together even for something silly like visiting her friend’s shop.

she started walking toward the shop, since it wasn’t that long of a journey. she was listening to the love of her life, the woman of her dreams: taylor swift. actually she was listening to this cool playlist with all her favorite female artists and she was really enjoying it. it included taylor, olivia rodrigo, sabrina carpenter, lesserafim, new jeans, billie eilish and many more… she loved it

she finally got to her destination and went into the building. as always the atmosphere was dreamy: flowers and plants everywhere, a simple, fairytail like song playing in the background, the smell of dirt, plants and flowers, mixed with something else, that you couldn’t really put your finger on. 

she loved that smell but she loved the man that worked there even more. so she run up to him and hugged him.

“Y/N” “YEONJUN” they screamed in unison.they kept hugging for a couple seconds.

“what are you doing here? i wasn’t expecting you” he asked

“it’s my day off today and i was having a me day but i got so bored after soobin left to go to the cafe, that i decided that i deserved some flowers from my favorite flower boy” y/n explained

“oh, that makes sense, and i’ll make you a cute bouquet right away. your favorite color is red right? like the best album that was ever put out by the best artist ever right?”

“exactly, you got it”

“roses, some yarrow and some daisies? if i’m not wrong daisies are your favorite-”

“who are you talking to yeo-” a voice from the back of the store said. and not even a second later a tall boy came out.

“what are you doing here.” ni-ki said

“buying flowers. what are YOU doing here? i thought you hated flowers?” y/n responded. why HIM. 

“he is helping me out cause apparently he has a secret talent” yeonjun said, trying to stop the fight before it broke out.

“which is?” y/n asked, since he could not see the boy having any talents beside dancing.

“he is really good at making bouquets and he is going to make yours. please riki, use red roses, yarrow and daisies, they are her favourites. you can also add a few others flowers, just make sure they are red or white.”

“okay, i’ll do it in the back” ni-ki replied, taking the flowers he needed. yeonjun didn’t miss the way y/n’s eyes didn’t leave the boy’s back until it couldn’t be seen from their angle. 

“hey yeonjun” y/n

“yeah?” the older boy replied.

“what are those books up there? are you turning this place into a bookstore now?” she said giggling.

“they are floriography books” 

“what did you just say? yeonjun you know i’m dumb i don’t understand big fancy words” you said jokingly while the boy let out a small laugh

“floriography, it’s the language of flowers. you know how people believe that every flower has a meaning”

“do you believe that?”

“i do, i think it’s fun and i really enjoy reading into what flowers people put into their bouquets. i’ve found out so many people cheat on their partners through flowers you know?”

“that sounds so cool, get me one please” she said, and yeonjun got her one of the books.

“floriography is so dumb” said ni-ki, holding a beautiful bouquet in his hands. it was medium sized, with red and white flowers. it was so pretty that y/n’s breath was taken away for a few seconds.

“thank you so much! this is so pretty. maybe you do have a talent for this” she admitted. she might hate him but he did di a very good job with her bouquet and she appreciated it.

“mh, no problem” ni-ki said sounding a little bit flustered.

“what do you mean tho?” y/n said

“about the floriography thing? i think its dumb and i hate how everything has to have a meaning now days. like let those flowers be” he explained. and with that, the good mood was good. she let out a small puff and let it be: she didn’t want to make a scene today.

she quickly paid for her staff and said goodbye to her friend with a hug and his coworker with a small wave.

when she left the shop, yeonjun looked at ni-ki making a face.

“what?” ni-ki asked, a little but annoyed at his friend and his dumb expression.

“amaryllis and red tulips? really? you think you are slick but you are not” yeonjun said with a little smile

“shut up” ni-ki whispered, turning away and taking his jacket “i’m going home” 

“bye ni-ki” yeonjun said in a sing-a-song voice.

“bye” he responded, rolling his eye.

when she finally got home, y/n looked at the book she got. she looked at the photos, trying to guess the names of all the flowers.

roses meant love, daisies meant innocence, yarrow meant bravery. then the new flowers: red tulips meant lust and the other flowers, red amaryllis, meant unrequited love.

well ni-ki did choose weird flowers for someone who hated her with his whole heart. but he also said that he didn’t like the fact that flowers had meanings. so she just forgot about it and kept on reading.

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✧ note: new chapterrrr!!!! i don't know anything about flowers btw

also CHECK OUT LI AND I'S SIDE BLOG about enha if they were italian

and here is a little SUNGHOON ONE SHOT based on a dream i had lol

✦ taglist: open! ask to be added! @juyomiao @bambangan

#｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ ray writes #☁︎ come back... be here ☁︎ #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smau #enhypen fic #enhypen social media au #enhypen fluff #ni-ki smau #ni-ki fluff #ni-ki scenarios #ni-ki x reader #enhypen #ni-ki

[icedmatchatae]

Cien Años | KNJ

Pairing: Best Friend Namjoon x Best Friend Reader

Genre: Hanahaki AU, Angst, Fluff (barely)

Summary: A sad story of two best friends who loved each other for different reasons.

Warning: UR GONNA BE SAD, namjoon being in denial, oc being out of the loop, flashbacks :(, a lot of crying from everyone, mentions of death (nobody dies tho!), mentions of surgery, illness, unrequited love, there's somewhat of a happy ending!

Word count: 15.1k because I'm a menace

Note: Italics are flashbacks.

A/N: Inspired by the song "Cien Años" by Natalia Lafourcade & Pepe Aguilar. My friends told me to write a story about it...so I did.

I've also cross-posted this originally on AO3 as well! Enjoy~~~

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply.

Trembling fingers gripping onto your daisy bouquet as you controlled your shaky breathing. You faced the closed doors, waiting for the queue. One by one, you saw your bridesmaids leave you until you were alone. A light sheen of sweat expanded on your back; luckily, the laced fabric hid your nervousness of today.

What awaited inside would be your most anticipated life-changing event yet. Once you leave there, two souls become one, purposeful promises are committed with expected hardship to overcome. The day you are officially united with the love of your life.

You’ve been waiting for this day, and you couldn’t wait any longer. At the other side of the doors, there stood your soon-to-be husband smiling like a maniac. You wanted this so badly, nervous because the ceremony separated you from your soulmate. But it’ll be okay.

Because he was worth it.

-

He was dressed in a suit with his hands intertwined behind his back.

His mouth opened in awe at the sight of you. You slowly walked down the aisle with your father at your left side. His arm linked firmly around yours. With bittersweet eyes, he looked like he didn’t want to let you go but knew he had to for the best. 

Your dress flowed down with grace, the train behind dragging along the carpeted floor. Your effortless beauty that it shined through your sheer veil. You held onto your favorite flowers, handpicked by him, and will forever keep them in your memories.

Your smile beamed through your family, friends, and esteemed guests, but he could tell how anxious you were deep inside. He knew how much love you had in you, how much soul and care you had to offer. He knew everything about you. After all—

Namjoon has loved you ever since you were younger.

-

When you first met Namjoon, you were about 11. The smartest nerd in school was your partner for a science project. Between the introduction and the first place win, you’ve gotten to know him much better and enjoyed his presence.

It baffled you to discover the lanky boy with thick-rimmed rectangular glasses and who wore velcro shoes listened to Nas and Eminem. Did you mention that he had a bowl cut? Because he did.

He only fascinated you, even more, wanting to befriend you, not realizing he would be one of the most influential people in your life. He quickly became your best friend, and you were inseparable. You graduated high school and college together and even were roommates for many years.

You never saw life without him, your best friend.

Being together more than half of your life, Namjoon didn’t realize the day he met you was the first sign of him falling in love with you.

“Why do you have so much sugar?” Namjoon questioned, observing you next to him when you pulled out a ziplock bag of sugar packets. You pulled one out and ripped it open. You shook the pouch over your mouth, collecting the sweetener on your taste buds. He unapologetically grimaced at you.

“It’s a snack; also, since my mom said I’m too young to drink coffee, I took all of the sugar in our house since I get so much energy.” You simply explained, offering him a packet.

He paused and sighed, joining you in eating packets and packets until you both were a giggling mess.

You were pretty odd, almost lacking social cues, but he couldn’t be one to talk since he was awkward himself. Your aura was not something he was used to, but he never regretted it and grew to love your unusualness. It was one of the characteristics of why he loved you dearly. 

Your bright smile, aggravating yet endearing personality, and how much you gave yourself to others wholeheartedly created a rippling effect on his heart. But almost too much as it lets you get hurt by others. 

He remembered the day you came home with shedding tears falling on your face. He was working on a group essay in your shared living room with Jimin, a friend and peer from his classes, when a loud bang disrupted their concentration.

“He cheated on me!” You sobbed as you dropped your things to the wooden floor. You quickly spotted your best friend and tackled him. You clutched onto his shirt, pushing your head into his chest with your cries staining the fabric.

Without second-guessing, Namjoon wrapped his arms around your fragile form, kissing your hair. He rubbed your back as you continued to sob at your broken heart. He eyed Jimin, apologizing for the interruption, but he understood. The shorter man gestured for him to text him later before departing your home.

After your weeping died down, you explained how you saw your boyfriend of seven months cuddling and making out with another girl at a coffee shop on the other side of the city from where you lived. With the bit of courage you had, you confronted Seokjin and threw your boiling hot tea at him before running away.

Namjoon was angry for you and wanted to beat Seokjin up for doing this to you. But what’s worse, this wasn’t the first time something had happened. You were hurt by many others before because you gave too quickly; you gave the benefit of the doubt to those undeserving of it.

You tried your best to learn from your mistake and took extra precautions, but somehow the next man in your life gets trickier and more conniving than the last.

“Why does this happen to me?”

You sat on your apartment complex’s rooftop, looking at the bright glowing city. It was past midnight; Namjoon thought it was a great idea to get some convenience store snacks and ramen while you get some fresh air.

“Like was I a descendent of Judas?” You rhetorically asked.

“I’m not a theology major, but I don’t think Judas had any children.” He pointed out as he slurped his noodles.

You glared at him and his intelligence, “Don’t correct me now.” You slammed your ramen bowl on the makeshift table made from a stack of wooden pallets. “I thought he was the one.”

“I know you’re hurt, flower. Hurt is only temporary. You’ll heal; it’ll take time, though. It’s really shitty that it happened to you.” His comforting words eased your emotional state, using his nickname for you.

It wasn’t anything cute. He only does it because you told him you used to eat flowers when you were younger. Your parents were scared and brought you to the hospital, it was a whole thing, but he liked to pick on you and made sure you wouldn’t forget your stupidity.

“Is there something wrong with me? Be honest.” You genuinely asked. Your puffy eyes met his, waiting for his response.

He stared at you. Underneath the full moon and the illumination from the cityscape, faint shadows fell onto your features. Your irises sparkled with the dimming sense of hope in you. He hated seeing you like this, seeing the light in you slowly giving up.

He placed down his bowl before reaching for your hands. He intertwined your fingers together, comparing the size difference between you two. He grinned lightly, but enough to display the dimples on his cheeks.

“Seokjin was stupid and never realized what was before him.” He answered, licking his lips and tasting the spice of the meal. Your mouth curled at his words, holding his fingers tightly around yours. “Nothing is wrong with you, just your taste in men.”

“Hey!” You let go of him and slapped his shoulder, pouting your lips. “Stop it!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He chuckled, putting his hands in surrender. 

“I’m questioning why you’re my best friend.” You seethed through your teeth.

“Flower, you’re one of the most special people.”

You snorted at his comment, “Nice try.”

“It’s true.” He countered. His smile faded a little, noticing your lack of confidence. “Special people like you will get infinite wishes that your little heart desires. Everything you hope for will come true. You’ll get what you truly deserve, flower. It’ll just take time.”

You gazed back at him. The twinkling lights in your pupils appeared at his reassurance. “Thank you, Joon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was a common exchange between you two, but little did Namjoon know, it held a deeper meaning.

Though Seokjin never saw what was in front of him, Namjoon never noticed what he had until it was too late.

-

Years passed, and you eventually moved on from your heartbreak, having Namjoon by your side. You seemed happier and cheerful while he watched you. But you never were with anyone ever since.

You went on to bigger and better things, like landing a high-paying corporate job after college. Namjoon also was doing well, from being an intern climbed his way to the top in being the art curator at the national museum. You were both proud of each other and your accomplishment, always cheered one another on when times got tough.

However, despite your successes, you agreed it was time to move out of your janky apartment and part ways. It was a harsh transition since you’ve seen each other every day for over ten years, but you made it work. You promised to text and call every day and update anything that happened.

Namjoon could never leave you and you the same back. Again, you and he were inseparable.

You two scheduled dinner at the end of the week. Ever since you got promoted, your schedule restricted you from spending time with him, but you kept your promise to call and text. Namjoon was currently working on his first major project for the museum and was excited to tell you all about it. You couldn’t wait either.

But for now, he had lunch with Jimin at a café since the shorter finally had time in his hectic residency life.

“It was so wild. I saw anything like it before.” Jimin talked about a patient he had and their diagnosis, Hanahaki Disease.

Jimin explained how Hanahaki Disease was this exponentially progressing illness that stemmed from unrequited love. Flowers–the popular indication of the disease–bloom in the person’s lungs and heart and can only be intensified. His patient had stage four of this Hanahaki Disease.

“I’ve read about it in the books, and cases were rare. Seeing it first hand was very tragic.” Jimin sighed, recalling his experience.

“What does stage four mean?” Though Namjoon was skeptical, he was interested in this so-called disease.

“It means the roots from the flowers have grown into his respiratory system. He came in choking on his blood and coughing up sunflowers.”

“Why sunflower?”

“It was his wife’s favorite flowers.” Jimin’s face gloomed lower. “Poor guy caught her cheating, and the painful love was too strong.”

Namjoon hissed at the thought, “I feel for him.”

“Yeah, so at that point, he either dies or gets surgery to remove the roots.” The shorter concluded. “Sorry for the depressing story, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“You’re good, man,” Namjoon reassured. “Though you saw it, it’s quite an unusual diagnosis, don’t you think? I mean, doesn’t it sound far-fetched? Like love really made that happen?”

“It does, but you won’t think that way if you saw it in front of you. Love can do a lot to someone.” Jimin reasoned back. “There’s little evidence on it, but it does happen.”

The pairing sat in silence, processing the tragic story. Namjoon wondered how severe love has to be for you to end up like that. He had never really experienced that kind of love before; it wasn’t hard to love, in his opinion, but loving someone had to be chosen wisely and thoughtfully. Love shouldn’t hurt. 

“Anyways, besides me and flower vomiting patients, how are you and the art life?” Jimin changed the subject to a lighter feel. He knew about Namjoon’s project and was impatient to see the final product. “How’s the project? What was it about again?”

“It’s going great. Stressful, but I’m enjoying every bit of it.” He smiled, thinking about his passion. “I guess your story was a great transition to my project. It’s about love. Various meanings and interpretations of love worldwide, so I’ve been obtaining many pieces overseas to display them.”

“Ahh, so you’re gonna get typical ones like The Kiss by Gustav Klimt or that one by Picasso?” Jimin semi-mocked, incorporating very little knowledge about art.

“No, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Namjoon rolled his eyes, munching on his salad. “The museum wanted me to go through a different approach and find more modern and recent artists.”

“So, like up and coming artists?” The shorter asked, and he hummed in response. “I guess, what type of approach are you having with love?”

“Well, love is more than a feeling. It’s hard to put into words. It’s an essence that can be explained through various points of view.”

“Yeah, Mr. Smartass. Stop being so technical!”

“I’m just saying! Love causes emotions. It’s a concept to profess desires and connectedness to someone within an individual, so that’s why that Hanahaki Disease seems exaggerated.” Namjoon argued his thoughts. “I’m not saying love doesn’t exist or anything. It’s here somewhere.”

“This is why you don’t have a girlfriend.” Jimin scoffed, leaning back into his chair. Namjoon ignored his comment like usual before his phone pinged a message.

It was you, and he was delighted to open it. A picture of your lunch, or rather lunches. He saw another plate from the opposite end of the table. It was probably Ryujin, your coworker buddy you spent your time with.

“Is that ___?” Jimin had a devilish smile on him.

“Yeah?? What about it?” Namjoon replied to you with, “Bruh, that looks bomb. Enjoy!” And locked his screen before paying attention to his friend before him. “You know we communicate a lot.”

“Yes, I know the many instances.” Jimin agreed. “But seeing you smile just by a text says more than you say. Actions speak louder than words!”

“Jimin, we’re not going through with this again.” The taller shook his head at his friend’s persistence. “I told you I don’t love her like that. She’s been my best friend for years!”

“Yeah, but I don’t see you giggling, kicking your feet, and twirling your hair thinking about me.” Jimin retorted, folding his arms over his chest. “You probably don’t notice it since you’ve been with her all this time, but you give one another so much, more than friends usually do.”

“Maybe, it’s just you because you end up sleeping with your opposite gendered friends.”

“Hey, that was three times! And I was drunk for two.”

“Point is that ___ and I have been best friends for years . Neither of us did anything like that in the time being and never will.”

“Because you never made a move and acknowledged yo—”

“Jimin.” Namjoon interrupted sternly, wanting to end this conversation. Jimin never understood your friendship with him and constantly suspected that there was something more than what met the eyes. He could sense it, but Namjoon refused to listen.

“Fine, I’ll stop.” Jimin sighed. “At least acknowledge my words.”

Namjoon gulped his iced coffee and thinned his lips, “Maybe.”

He should have listened.

-

After dinner, he took you to the museum. Due to his respected status, he had the privilege of possessing the keys to artistic treasures. It was a way for him to move back and forth with any work beyond the public hours. And because you had the privilege of being his best friend, you could see the Love exhibition he finalized that morning and now waiting for the official opening in two weeks.

The stepping of your heels echoed within the empty museum. Your eyes scanned through the beautiful artwork before you, enchanted by the different styles and meanings, yet they all revolved around one concept: love.

You stole little glances of Namjoon, his attention invested in the paintings as he passed by you. You appreciated his passion for his job, bringing purpose to his life and those around him. He gave you comfort and solace in your chaotic life, and no amount of gratitude can equate to his actions and words.

However, you were nervous around him this time, playing out what to say and do. Sure, he never cared before, but you were a bit self-conscious with this one. You wanted to approach it right. After all, what he said and did matters to you. He was important.

Your eyes landed on a particular piece, never seeing anything like it. The painting contained four bodies. Two of which embraced one another on top of a hill as birds and flowers bloomed around them. Hues resembled joy and, of course, love. As you shifted down the mountain, the third subject laid down, surrounded by colors of gloom and sorrow. Wilting flora consumed the body. The complete opposite of the couple on top. However, the final form was rather strange because you barely saw it. You could see the background behind it, almost like a ghost.

“I see you found my favorite piece in the exhibit.” Your best friend announced with a grin. You were too into the painting to realize he stood by you. He carefully inspected the artwork, absorbing the emotions it gave and the purpose of the artist’s creation. 

“Why is your favorite?” You wondered, your eyes still attentive to the piece.

“To be honest, I’ve met with the artist before during my work trip in Mexico. Great guy, his interpretations were so philosophical that it expanded my knowledge that it only left me wanting more from him.” Namjoon expressed. “This is my favorite piece because, for once, he had something that portrayed a specific visual he wanted to convey, and I’m also sure that many people can relate.”

“And that is?”

“It’s a story.” He began. “A depressing one. Once upon a time, a man and woman fell in love, and they lived happily ever.”

“That doesn’t sound too sad.” You chuckled.

“You didn’t let me finish.” He mentioned, making you shut your mouth. “As the couple danced to their love, they never realized that someone from afar also fell in love with her. That’s him.” He pointed to the covered body. “All the flowers he sent her returned to him, and he slowly died from it. The last body is him, but he’ll forever roam the world with this emptiness inside. But at the very least, he can stay afar, looking at her and seeing her happy.”

“Ouch, that fucking hurts.” You pouted at his description. No one should ever go through that.

“The painting is called Cien Años by Pepe Lafourcade.” He informed. “Pepe said if he lived 100 years, he’d think of her for 100 years.”

“Tragically captivating.” You nodded before shifting your eyes onto your best friend, who was already gazing at you.

Namjoon swore his world stopped by witnessing you and your very radiant form. You looked much healthier now, caring for yourself and enhancing your beauty more than yesterday but less than tomorrow. He observed a new necklace on you, perhaps a treat for your hard work, he assumed. You deserved it. You always did. He saw you like you were the only one in the world, his world.

And no one could compare to you.

He wished to be with you as long as he could.

His stare flustered you a bit; you’ve never seen anything like it. You thought you were seeing things and had some assumptions in your mind. But you merely pushed them because they weren’t necessary anymore.

You broke the eye contact as you focused on your feet. You had to speak to him. “Joon?”

“Yes, flower?” He crouched down, trying to find your eyes, laughing at how timid you were. It was peculiar to act like this with him. He didn’t want to say anything when you first met up. He wanted you to tell him naturally.

You gave up and finally faced him again. Your large doe eyes were his favorite; he never told you but enjoyed seeing them. “I have to tell you something. Something important.”

“Oh, how important?”

“Kinda big? Uh, serious, actually.”

“How so,” He was being playful, but that’s only because he was unaware of how much the words that came out of you will affect him in the long run.

“I’ve been dating this guy for the past six months…uhhh, Jungkook is his name, and I’m falling in love with him.”

Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook.

-

Namjoon’s attention focused on you as you reached the end of the aisle. Your father gave you a goodbye kiss before he lets go of you. You turned away from him and smiled gently, with giggles in between biting your lips. The unconditional true love flashed in your eyes.

But it wasn’t directed towards him.

Instead, it was for the man in front of him. The groom.

Jeon Jungkook.

The love of your life.

-

“I’m sorry, who?”

Namjoon was utterly stunned at what you just said. You were dating someone for a while, and you didn’t tell him? Your best friend? Now you’re in love with that guy?

“His name is Jungkook, and we—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He felt offended and angry by your decision. It wasn’t like you. You told him everything. You told him about Seokjin the second you talked to him. The name was vaguely familiar. He had heard it before. Wait—

“Isn’t he your boss?” Namjoon asked incredulously.

“Well, not anymore. I got promoted and transferred to another department, remember?” You tried your best to explain yourself. “I mean, he technically is. He runs part of the corporation.”

“W-why? H-how?”

“We had to keep it a secret. I couldn’t tell you….”

“Couldn’t tell me? Me, your best friend?” He forced a laugh, but there was nothing funny in his tone.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Flower, how could you be so fucking stupid like that? Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

Namjoon regretted those words the second they came out of his mouth. Your facial expression said it all, insulted and hurt by your best friend. Your face became sour with your lips trembling. God, you hated how sensitive you were being. But like you said, what he said or did mean so much to you.

So it hurt when he didn’t support you.

He took a step towards you, but you stepped back. “___, I—”

“I thought you’d understand.” Your eyes were glossy, blinking away to fight the hurt from being released. You shook your head, “Like how my best friend usually is. I thought you would be supportive.”

Silence drowned you two. Namjoon had no words, all he could think about was how much he disappointed you. You said nothing and couldn’t bother dealing with him. Like what he told you if you didn’t want to deal with the situation right now, just walk away.

So you did, leaving him alone in the museum as you called Jungkook to pick you up.

-

Namjoon couldn’t comprehend what he was feeling right now. His breath shivered at this indescribable tension in his stomach and chest. His fingers were finicky, needing to do something to keep the thoughts at bay. But all through his mind was you. He remained unfocused, especially since you didn’t reply to his texts or answer his calls. The unknown of what you were doing and how you felt bothered him, distracting his brain away from everything around him.

You were in love with your boss, and he had no idea. He couldn’t recollect any hints or say about you dating someone. Sure, you’ve gotten happier, but he thought it was because of him…that you were spending your time with him…

If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t mad that you didn’t tell him. It was probably the rational thing to do since Jungkook was well-known in the business—Namjoon had to search him up. It was most likely to keep word from spreading, and no one knew. 

In fact, he was more uncomfortable than you were with someone. He has seen what happened to you in the past and didn’t want you to get hurt. He knew nothing about this Jungkook guy and feared the worst from him yet.

It was the night of the official opening of his exhibition, and you still weren’t talking. This was the longest you haven’t spoken to each other. It made Namjoon stay up at night running a busy mind. He started getting worried, thinking he fucked up your whole friendship and his shitty remarks. He was so upset with himself that he wasn’t feeling well.

Namjoon was weary for a couple of weeks, with a scratchy throat and a loss of appetite. It was probably stress from everything that was going on with planning and, of course, his dilemma with you. Hopefully, after tonight, he’ll be a little bit better. Though he begged to differ when he developed slight coughing in the morning.

The murmur of guests crowded the museum’s main lobby, some of the artists that he collected for the exhibit also attended. Unfortunately, Pepe wasn’t here due to conflicting schedules, but he gave his wishes to Namjoon.

People went up to him, admiring and congratulating him and his work. Namjoon could only smile politely and share his thanks. It was a big day for him, and if it was a success, it’d open him to a new world of the arts. Famous artists and museums would know him, and his approach to his work would get recognized by many.

Yet, his mood was down, hoping that a certain someone would see him on a day like this.

“Sup, bro!!” A few invitees glowered at the person for the loud disruption, but he did not care. “Calm down, don’t give me dirty eyes. I’m probably more educated than all of you combined.”

One of the security guards came toward his friend, “Excuse me, si—”

“It’s Dr. Park,” Jimin corrected before grabbing a flute of champagne from the waiter. The guard was about to protest, but Namjoon raised his hand, reassuring them that he was, unfortunately, an important guest. He winked cheekily at him through his slit-like eyes with his pride held high. Security glared at the doctor once more before leaving the premises.

“Jimin, don’t make a scene. It’s bad enough they see us together.” Namjoon exhaled, swirling his drink with a straw.

“How is it bad? We’re besties! I’m so proud of you.” Jimin shrugged but slowly changed his tone to a more serious one as he looked at his friend’s expression. “What’s wrong? You don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine, just been coughing since this morning.” Namjoon cleared his throat, but the shorter knew there was much more.

“Haven’t talked to her since?”

Namjoon sighed and nodded, “I’m worried I fucked our friendship.”

The doctor bit back his tongue. He needed to comfort his friend now, then tell him off later. “She’s upset, but it won’t be enough to stop your friendship. She’ll come around; she just needs time.”

“I know, but—” Namjoon swore he stopped breathing. From across the room, he spotted you. He didn’t think you’d come. His pupils dilated at your appearance. You were absolutely breathtaking like you were prized artwork in the museum, capturing the hearts of anyone who came by.

His heart weirdly skipped a beat.

Your eyes met his, then smiled at his success and waved. You headed in his direction. However, the closer you came, the more he realized you weren’t alone.

Hand in hand, a tall, strong-built man followed by you. His round eyes observed the area while his mouth was agape at the ambiance. His features were strong yet soft, and he looked approachable. He was around your age, reasonably young for someone running part of a whole corporation.

“Joon,” You greeted before letting go of the man to hug your best friend. You shocked him, his body stiffening up, then relaxing at your familiar warmth and comfort. He wrapped his arms around you, firming his grip. “Congratulations!”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes watered up, not realizing that he had held back tears since that night. You were finally here with him, and the emotions let loose.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.” You promised as you pulled away to look at his face. Some tears fell down to which you wiped them off with your gentle thumbs. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply; that was a bitch move.” 

“No, you had every reason.” He begged to differ. “I didn’t even give you a chance to speak.”

“Next time, we’ll communicate better.” You proposed, and he nodded quickly, knowing that your friendship remained strong as ever.

“Yay, you made up. What about me?” Jimin pushed his way into you. You giggled and hugged him too.

“Hello, Dr. Park. Long time no see, looking dangerous as ever.” You said.

“Hello, ____. Long time no see, Looking ravishing as ever. And yes, always dangerous, but no one needs to know.” He smiled boldly, then shifted his attention to the man biting his lips, holding a bouquet. “Who might this be?”

All your attention goes towards the newcomer, bulging his eyes but letting out a bunny-like smile. Carrying some flowers with one hand, he used the other to wave and bow.

“This is Jungkook…my boyfriend.” You revealed to the two men.

Right on cue, Namjoon coughed harshly. He gulped some water and tried clearing his throat again. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he gave you an okay signal.

“Jungkook, this is Namjoon.”

Jungkook handed you the bouquet, then he went up to the taller man and shook his hand with both of his, “Hello, Namjoon. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard nothing but great things from this one.” He gestured to you. Namjoon accepted the greeting and nodded silently. He needed to be civil, at least for now.

“And this one is Dr. Park Jimin.” You presented. “Remember, he’s a doctor.”

“And don’t you forget about it,” Jimin added on. Jungkook shook his hand as well. “I heard of your corporation. I saw on the news that you opened two new shelters for mothers and children. You do great work.”

Jungkook blushed and smiled, “Oh, yes. Thank you. It was a hard process, but I hope to do more of them in the future.”

“Oh, these are for you.” You said, passing the bouquet to your best friend.

Namjoon inspected the flowers—daisies, his favorite flowers because they were your favorite.

“This is a celebratory gift for your first solo exhibit and an apology.” You continued gazing at your best friend, trying to communicate telepathically, which Namjoon was fully aware of.

Somehow that hinted Jungkook into saying, “Dr. Park, do you think you can accompany me to the hors d’oeuvres? Let’s leave these two to talk.”

Impressed at his request, Jimin nodded, enjoying the man so far. The shorter glanced at Namjoon to give him some good luck before joining Jungkook’s food adventure.

There, you both were alone but not really knowing how to start this. This was the longest you’ve been apart, let alone fight like that. In fact, you rarely fought. There was nothing that came in between you two until now.

“He seems nice,” Namjoon commented about your new…boyfriend. “His mannerisms are a bit mechanical, though.”

You let out a chuckle, “He’s nervous. He wants to impress you.”

“Big CEO wanting to impress a small-time art curator? That’s new.”

“Well, big CEO knows that the art curator means a lot to me.” You went along with his saying. “He wants you to like him.”

“Why would he care about what I think?” Namjoon muttered, feeling a bit jittery. He held the bouquet tightly to keep his movements in control.

“Because he knows that I care about what you think.” You replied. “He was sad when I told him how you reacted because he was afraid. He doesn’t want you to think badly of him.”

“Not wanting to compare, but it’s hard not to after how many before he treated you.” He frowned as he said his thought out loud. “I don’t want you to get hurt, flower.”

You smiled softly at his care towards you. That’s what you loved about him. “Joon, he’s not going to hurt me. I can tell you that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I made the first move.” You revealed. “And though he’s stern and serious about his work—bless his soul—he is so shy, Joon. He was a nervous wreck, confessing his crush on me. It felt like I was in high school.”

Namjoon couldn’t imagine it. At first, he didn’t think that shyness would be a characteristic of Jungkook. Then again, he doesn’t know anything about him. He didn’t accept him at all, probably not anytime soon for safety precautions. 

“He’s the first man in a long time for me, and I’ve been careful. He’s been careful. I actually asked him to keep it between just us two because I didn’t want my coworkers knowing about our relationship.” You elaborated. “But he suggested to at least tell our loved ones if we wanted to be serious with each other.”

“You’re serious with him?” Namjoon spoke softly. A sharp, quick pain pushed through his stomach, leaving an unpleasant feeling. Yet he didn’t try showing it; he didn’t want you to worry about him.

You nodded at the thought of Jungkook being steady with you. “Yes, that’s why I was afraid of telling you about him. I wanted you to accept him too.”

He coughed again, shaking his head. “I’m accepting of him, yet if I’m being honest. But I’ll try to.”

“He knows about my past too, and he swore he’s not like that.” He coughed harshly this time. You handed him some water that he accepted. “Joon, are you okay?”

Namjoon chugged the cup down and exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I think I have an upset stomach. I got a bad cough from this morning.”

“Make sure you take care of yourself, okay? I don’t wanna beat you up if you’re not being healthy.” You scolded, and it only made him laugh.

“I’ll be fine, flower. It’s just been stressful, from the event and our time apart.”

Your mood died a little, being guilty about what you did. “I’m sorry again. I promise to never do that again.” You grabbed his hand to squeeze some comfort in him.

His body got hit with another blow, but he bit his lips to dull the pain. “You worry too much, flower. It wasn’t your fault. You were also worried about me, too, no?”

You nodded, “I was. I care for you too much not to.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He reassured. “Then we should just enjoy the night and days to come.”

You couldn’t help but hug him. You missed him so much, crying to Jungkook about him. He knew you cared for your best friend and hoped that you two would reconcile. 

“I love you, Joon.”

“I love you too, flower.”

Again, a standard practice, but Namjoon didn’t realize his love changed from yours. 

-

Namjoon couldn’t hate Jungkook.

The more he was around the guy, the more he realized how chaotically sweet Jungkook was. He was just like you, an odd presence but very lovable. The only thing he hated about him was that he kept winning at everything, yet he was still humble about it.

Jungkook made initiatives to hang out with you and your friends from time to time just so he could understand your life and engage with those you loved. He hung out with him and Jimin, too, without you, and it was a fun guy’s night. He put so much effort into what he wanted, and he did it with ease. It was easier to like him.

Your relationship was growing healthy, and Namjoon was happy for you. You needed something like this, and he could only hope that Jungkook would continue that with you.

On the other hand, Namjoon has been on a stump. First of all, his event was a huge success. His networking multiplied, getting busy with upcoming projects. He’s been traveling internationally, attending conferences and parties, meeting other curators like him, and even making new friends like Jung Hoseok, who was overseas as a curator in Madrid.

So what was his stump?

Well, for a few months now, Namjoon has had this stomach flu. He’s been getting random fevers, uncontrollable shaking, sharp pains in his chest or abdomen, and not eating regularly.

The worst part of it all was his cough. It didn’t improve since that night, it seemed to have gotten worse. He felt the need to scratch his throat, even having the urge put his fingers down his mouth and take care of the itch himself.

He went to the doctors, and they assumed the same. They provided him more potent medication every visit, but it didn’t feel like it was working. Was it because he was growing older? Did he need to start working out and caring for his body like that? It was bothering him, distracting him from his work, and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

If only he knew, his condition worsened with time.

-

“And now for the bride and groom to say their vows.” The ordained minister proceeded.

Before you proclaimed your love, you held your hands with Jungkook’s, focusing on him. You took deep breaths, collecting your memorized speech that you suddenly forgot. Your eyes told that you were stuck, but Jungkook helped you.

“Anything you say, I will love for. Hell, you can call me irritating and I’d say thank you.” Little giggles responded to the groom’s joke. You rolled your eyes, then remembered why you loved him in the first place.

“When I first met you, I was afraid of loving again. I was hurt and disappointed so many times. I don’t even know how many tears I shed throughout that journey. I felt like giving up and never loving again.” You started your vows. “But then you changed that for me. Though I was scared, you helped me back up and had so much patience with me. I don’t know how you do it. Jimin even questioned it.”

Namjoon looked back and saw his shorter friend nod to your speech before putting his eyes back on you.

“You brought nothing but joy in my life. Yes, we went through difficult times, but we made it out, and I know we’ll do that again in our marriage. You’ve accepted not only me into your life but also my family and friends you’ve grown to love.” You sniffled, not wanting to cry, but you just had to. “Thank you for loving me at my best and even my worst. Thank you for not giving up on us. You are the love of my life, and you make me happier than I could ever imagine and more loved than I ever thought was possible.”

Namjoon heard sniffing from Jungkook, who let out tears faster than you. Upholding the role as best man, he kept tissues in his back pocket just in case. He pulled them out and tapped on Jungkook’s shoulder. The groom accepted the gesture and handed one to you and then to him. 

“I vow to honor you, listen, laugh with you, and cry with you. I just hope you do the same back. You make me so proud, proud to be called your wife. I love you, Jeon Jungkook. I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”

-

Namjoon didn’t know when it started in terms of the other symptoms, but he remembered the first time he specifically saw it.

Jimin threw a Christmas party at his house and invited people you didn’t really know besides him, Jungkook, and Namjoon. Everyone else was people from the hospital he trained at, his party friends, the list went on. Nevertheless, it was a casual party with cute little games he had prepared.

You, Jungkook, and Namjoon talked amongst yourself in the corner. You and Jungkook had matching grinch Christmas sweaters. After a year of being together, you and Jungkook were more comfortable in front of people with your relationship. A few kisses and hugs here and there, but you liked to keep your relationship with him private.

Still, the public display of affection was prominent, and it disgusted Namjoon. It may seem like a joke to others, but it really did gross him out. Whenever you cuddled up onto one another or just plain out kissed, Namjoon’s upset stomach or chest murmurs intensified.

Like now, he kissed your cheek, and Namjoon felt a dig in his torso. His face turned sour, exhaled slowly as he palmed the ache.

“Namjoon, are you okay?” Jungkook looked at him with concern. “Are you having chest pains again?”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna go away again.” Namjoon brushed it off. “It comes and goes from time to time.”

“Did you go to the doctor again?” You asked.

“Yes, flower. I went the other day. Since I told him about my chest, they had me do an x-ray. They said they’ll call me, but I don’t think it’ll be any time soon ‘cause of the holidays.”

“The holidays shouldn’t be an excuse to keep my best friend from being healthy.” You pouted, earning laughs from your boyfriend and best friend.

“Honey, don’t worry too much.” Jungkook patted your head. “Namjoon is grown to make his own decisions and choose what to worry about.”

“I’m gonna have to agree with, JK, flower.” Namjoon agreed. “Plus, we’re still young. I’m sure whatever they find, it’ll be easy to fix. There are also not many health issues on both sides of my family, so I’m chilling.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Your ease is so annoying sometimes.”

After that conversation, Jimin chimed in and pulled all three of you to a game of “Nogpong.” The four were split into pairs: You and Namjoon and Jimin and Jungkook. Losers had to do what the winners said.

Jungkook and Jimin had experience playing these games, but you and Namjoon’s teamwork was unmatched. The teams went back and forth, missing cups, shooting them while making the opposing chug the eggnog down.

Your team had two cups left while they had five. It was your turn to throw a ball. Jimin threw insults at you to distract your concentration, but you tried to ignore that little man. You threw the ball, earning another point.

“You suck.” Jimin spat back before downing the drink.

It was now Namjoon’s turn. He focused on the final cup, being so close to winning. But his coughing grew harshly at that moment, sounding like it hurt. There was so much phlegm that he grabbed a napkin from a tissue box to cough up. He expectorated all he could into the tissue, ultimately feeling better. But when he saw the content in the cloth, his pupils dilated in shock.

What he thought was mucus was actually blood. He noticed that he could taste the unpleasant taste of iron in his mouth. He gulped down the remnants and stuffed the trash in his pocket without thinking.

“Some cough, Joon. Are you sure you’re okay?” You furrowed your brows at him.

“Flower, I’m okay.” He said again. “Let’s just finish the game.”

You weren’t as convinced, but you had to let it slide for his sake.

Namjoon nodded towards the guys about how he felt before going back to the game. He shot it into the cup with ease, cheering at the close win. All you had to do was score in the same cup.

It was all on you now. If you make this, victory was yours and Namjoon's. Sure, there was nothing to lose, but bragging rights were substantial to you. You held your breath and threw the ball.

You won!

You and Namjoon yelled like deranged individuals, celebrating your alcoholic game victory. Jungkook and Jimin took their loss like champs as they shook hands.

Namjoon held you by the waist and jumped in joy as you threw meaningless insults at your boyfriend and friend. In this position, something in Namjoon sparked. He watched you bad-mouthed them, but you looked so elegant, so beautiful doing it. He saw the fluttering of your lashes, the curve of your nose, and the soft plush that was your lips.

You being in his arms was so soothing. The warmth you produced heated his larger frame. It felt so right. He wished to stay like this forever with you. 

But those thoughts caused a downward spiral in his stomach. His head was light. He immediately turned green, his chest feeling like it had been shot multiple times. His throat was open as everything he consumed started moving up. He pushed away aggressively as he covered his mouth, running to the nearest bathroom.

He disregarded the calls at him as he slammed the door open. He rushed to the toilet and pulled up the lid before vomiting everything in him. He purged so explosively that he thought his eyeballs would pop out of his head, and snot ran down from his nose and onto the top of his lip. He felt the sweat dripping down his face. Damn, this was the worst complication yet.

The three of you followed behind him while you took the lead. You bent towards your friend and rubbed his back as he threw up. You both stayed like that for a few minutes. Jimin had to go back to calm his guests down while Jungkook went to get water for Namjoon.

“Namjoon, do you want us to take you home?” Jungkook asked. “We can bring your car back too?”

Namjoon couldn’t say no. He knew he didn’t feel good, so he nodded.

“Let me grab your things, Joon.” You stood up and lightly patted his back. “I’ll come back quick.” You said before leaving with Jungkook.

He retched up once more, releasing all he had left closed eyes. When he opened the inside, his heart dropped. He thought his vision deceived him. No way could this happen. It was impossible. There was no reason to have it.

What he assumed he puked was the pasta and wine from the party was actually more blood. But that wasn’t the most alarming.

He always thought of them as simple and beautiful to look at, appealing to the eye, but it was hard to think of daisies in that way when his blood coated the fresh petals, and they came out of his body.

Namjoon was now lying in bed, wide awake and petrified. He was dubious, couldn’t find common ground in what he experienced. Maybe he was hallucinating; the very reason was that he wasn’t feeling so well. Maybe the blood-covered daisies were seen to cover up the horrible sight of regurgitated Alfredo pasta. But the sickly fragrant scent of the flowers begged to differ.

Okay, if he were to have it, how did he get it? He needed answers. He wasn’t in love with anyone, right? He never loved anyone like that. The only people he loved were his family. Sure, Jimin was fucking annoying, and he loved the dude, but he was in love with him.

The only person left was you and…no. He didn’t, he couldn’t, he shouldn’t. He can’t . There was no damn way.

He refused to believe.

Yet Namjoon remembered it clear as day.

An urgent early call from his doctor’s office sent him waiting in the examination room. He was restless, with dark bags under his worn-out eyes. He didn’t even bother to change. He was in his Ryan bear pajamas.

He scrolled through his phone, seeing the multiple texts from you and Jimin. You both were worried and wished him to get better while greeting him a wonderful Christmas. You sent a bomb of pictures of you and Jungkook with hearts to cheer him on, and it was enough for his heart to throb. He locked his phone and threw it in his pajama pocket. 

His doctor, Dr. Min, came back into the room with a stoic expression as he read Namjoon’s file. “Good morning, Mr. Kim. I apologize for the short notice, especially on Christmas. But I just had to meet with you.”

“No need to apologize, Dr. Min.” The man said. “I was kinda glad you called. I—” He paused, trying to regulate his breathing. “I wanted to confirm.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow, “Did something happen recently?”

Namjoon bit his lips and nodded, getting antsy at the anticipation he caused. “I vomited, and I-I saw…blood and…,” He couldn’t say it. If he said it, he feared that it would come true.

Dr. Min didn’t let him finish his sentence as he nodded. Pulled out of his file was his recent x-ray. He brought it to the mounted screen and turned the lights on, displaying the condition of Namjoon’s body.

Roots grew through his lungs and around his heart. The silhouette of stems flourished all over his respiratory while the flowers weren’t as developed but expected to bloom soon. Bits of petals scattered around rested on his sternum with the most on his heart.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. You’ve been diagnosed with stage three of Hanahaki Disease.” Dr. Min declared. “I know this is hard for you to take in, but I would like to tell you that my staff and I will do our best to help you in your next steps. But first, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Is that alright with you?”

Namjoon stayed silent, viewing his x-ray. He could only nod as the pain consumed his form. This was the truth, the reality he was living in.

“Do you know how long you’ve experienced symptoms?”

He shook his head.

“You did say you’ve been coughing for a while. Is that still happening?”

He nodded. 

“When you coughed, was there blood?”

He nodded.

“Did you find petals?”

He shook his head.

“But when you threw up, there were petals?”

He nodded.

“When you vomited, was that the first time?”

He nodded.

“Do you love them?”

That very question snapped him out of his trance. He scowled at his doctor, wondering why he asked a personal question.

“Excuse me, Dr. Min. But isn’t that personal?” Namjoon couldn’t help but spit venom. He just found out he has a severe illness, and now his doctor wanted to know about his love life?

“It may seem personal, but this disease connects to love.” Dr. Min explained. “Namjoon, it’ll only worsen if you don’t admit it. That’s why the flowers are developing rapidly.”

He looked at his doctor, holding his stare. His eyebrows scrunched on his forehead with a large frown upon his mouth. Dr. Min waited patiently for his response, knowing what was gradually happening to him.

Thinking deeply about the question, his consciousness popped with a vague image. The picture subtly grew vivid at each second. Colors were lively, edges were pronounced, and the shapes were visible. By the time it was clear and detailed, a memory flashed in his very mind.

He stood on top of a roof. Inspecting around him, he realized it was his old apartment building years back. He saw the crowded shining city spanning across his vision. Buildings stood high and lit, groups of people walking down the streets, but still, he could only hear the soft white noise of the night. Light instrumental music resonated through the rooftop. It was all nostalgic. He missed the view, but more importantly, he missed the memories made here.

“Joon, dance with me,” A gentle voice begged as a small hand tugged his relatively larger one.

His head turned, presenting him with the prettiest, perfect sight. The glow in your skin shined brighter than the moon and sun combined. Your large glittering irises electrified his entire being. Your laugh rippled goosebumps on him, filling his body with sensation. Your smile captivated his very mind and soul. You intertwined his fingers with yours, your warmth coursing through his veins.

Everything about this was perfect. He never wanted to leave. He wished to stay like this forever. He loved every feeling. He loved every minute. He loved the memory. He loved the vision. But essentially—

He loved you.

Namjoon was in love with you, has been this entire time.

But you didn’t love him back.

You were in love with someone else.

The confession only brought painful tears to him as he let his emotions run loose. He scrunched his nose, sniffing uncontrollably. His mouth quivered hopelessly as little whimpers escaped. His gaze went down to his lap, noticing his trembling hands.

He never thought of the day he finally understood what love was. He was too analytical with his beliefs in the past. But he also gave himself some credit. Love was still an essence that powered emotions. All these interpretations and meanings were interconnected. You couldn’t have this without the other. It was more than a concept, more than a feeling.

Love was larger than life itself. Love was greater than anything in the whole universe. It was impossible to put a limit to love. 

Perhaps, Jimin was right. 

Love can do a lot for someone. 

-

Namjoon refused to tell anyone about his condition. Not only did he have to say to them that he was slowly dying from unrequited love, but he would have to reveal his true feelings for you.

He couldn’t deny them any longer, he loved you with all his heart, and it was killing him. But if it had to be anyone to do it, it had to be you.

He knew he couldn’t tell you. You would blame yourself, crying to him that you wished you would have loved him back. But you did love him.

Just not in the way he loved you. It wasn’t your fault at all. You were the type to make anyone fall in love with you. Namjoon had to just be part of that statistic. 

He knew he couldn’t have you, you were with Jungkook, and you loved that man dearly. He was good to you, the best even, probably more than Namjoon would have done. 

For the following months, he continued occupying his life with work. He had to focus on things other than you since you were on his mind every waking moment. He thought it was best to keep his distance. Maybe the flowers inside him wouldn’t flourish rapidly.

But you were adamant in keeping him close. You confronted him, going to his work. Your irritation dissolved once you saw his sunken face and the dark in his eyes. He convinced you that he wasn’t eating adequately since he was constantly working. Then you begged him to have lunch with you, and he couldn’t say no to you. He was too weak.

Too weak for you.

He gave in and, at the very least, texted and called you, but less than before. Sure, he hung out with you and Jungkook but was less engaged. Lately, when you asked to hang out, he told you he was busy or needed to fly out last minute.

When in reality, he went to the hospital for his condition.

“You’ve been taking the prescription, correct? Three times daily?” Dr. Min inquired. And Namjoon nodded. The doctor examined the man, he looked weaker, but somehow his body was stronger in motor and movement than the regular people who had this illness. 

Hanahaki Disease cases were rare and the first for Dr. Min’s long-time patient to be diagnosed. It wasn’t as successful, but when it did, there were still some downfalls, but the individual would be okay in the end. The doctor felt the need to provide the best for him, not fathoming what he was going through. 

“Good, it helps the flower wilt. It doesn’t stop the process completely, but it gives more time.” Dr. Min clarified. “Your bodily functions are still running normally, so that’s good. But I can’t say you’re getting any better….”

His health was deteriorating, the symptoms increased, and not a day went by without him coughing or throwing up petals. 

“I know, doc.” Namjoon sighed. A nurse came in to check his blood pressure. 

“Since you’re at a high stage in this, it’s hard for a cure unless….”

“No.” The man interrupted, knowing what he was going to say. “She’s been dating a friend for a while now. Great guy and loves her dearly..”

Dr. Min noted and nodded carefully at his response. “There’s also surgery. Many people who were diagnosed refuse to take it; that’s also why the fatality of Hanahaki is high. However, a small percentage who do, don’t feel love for the other person. But there are consequences.”

“Like what?”

“It is likely you will never feel love again. The memories of your love for that person won’t exist anymore.”

“Isn’t that worse?” Namjoon knitted his brows. He feared a life without loving, without loving you. He’d probably feel empty inside, lingering around like a ghost. “How can someone live on without love?”

“I…I don’t know.” And for once, Dr. Min didn’t have the right answer. Namjoon accepted what he said; it wasn’t his doctor’s fault. He was only suggesting possibilities. “It’s just another option because, at this rate, the illness is going into the four-stage.”

“And what happens at that stage?”

“If something were to happen that speeds it up, the flowers would bloom all over your lungs, and you will die before the end of the year.”

-

To live without love or to die with love.

A question that has been running through the mind of Kim Namjoon. He didn’t have much time left, but he couldn’t get himself to make a decision.

Obviously, he didn’t want to die. There was still much more for him to do. He wouldn’t be able to do what he wanted. But…a life without love? How would that be plausible? No human would walk on Earth with no love in their body because everyone has to love something or someone deep down.

But the thing that heated his mind was never loving you. He has fallen in love with you since you both were 11. Every drop of love in his body was for you. You were the one who would give meaning to his memories. How would he survive moving on after you?

Namjoon was deep in thought when fingers snapped in front of his face. He blinked back into his surroundings. He was in his office, trying to email Hoseok about some future collaborations.

The culprit, Jimin, rested on one side of his body with his hands on his hips. He had a concerned yet annoyed face on him as he inspected Namjoon. “You’re wasting our precious lunchtime together zoning out.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, quickly finishing up the email and sending it to his fellow art curator. As they walked up the street to the cafe, Jimin couldn’t help but take multiple takes at his friend.

“Stop staring. I’m not a fucking picture.” Namjoon caught his friend’s gaze.

“Dude, you don’t look so good.”

“Wow, thanks. That definitely helps with my self-esteem.”

“Stop joking. I’m serious.” Jimin refuted. “You look sicker. You barely eat, and you keep having colds.”

“I told you, Jimin. I’ve been going to the doctor, and it’s just stress—”

“ I’m literally a doctor. I can tell that this is more than stress. If you have something and you’re not tell—” An incoming call from Namjoon stopped Jimin’s rant. The shorter’s mouth thinned as he faced forward, waiting for the crosswalk to turn green.

Namjoon pulled his phone out, assuming it was Hoseok. But it was actually Jungkook. He rarely called and usually preferred texting to his introverted self. Nevertheless, he answered and greeted the man.

“Hey, thanks for answering. I really needed your opinion or like help with something.” Jungkook spoke out.

“No problem, man.” Namjoon grinned. “You know I’m always here to help. What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to say this….”

“You literally sound like ___ right now. It’s baffling.”

“Ugh, I—okay, fine. Obviously, you know ___ and I are together and in love, right?” A pain in his chest hit hard as Namjoon cleared his itchy throat. The crosswalk turned green, and the two began walking across. He hummed in response for Jungkook to continue. “Well, I’m gonna propose to her, and I want you to help me with her ring. You know her taste better than I do and—”

Namjoon stopped. He couldn’t hear anything after that. Jungkook started to sound like the adults from the Peanuts series. The words “I’m going to propose to her” echoed in his brain, repeated like a broken record. Was he hearing it correctly?

“I’m sorry, what? You’re what?” Namjoon forced himself to ask, praying that what he said wasn’t true.

“I’m proposing to ____? I want you to help me with t—”

His vision went fuzzy, his head feeling heavier than normal. His mouth became dehydrated while breathing went rapid. Namjoon couldn’t control his body shaking; everything went numb. His eardrums inflated, unable to hear the horns honking but only a long ringing sound amplified within seconds.

Jimin reached the end of the crosswalk but looked back to see why wasn’t his large friend was by his side. Jimin let out a sob. He saw his friend fall forward, dropping his phone. He ran up as he watched Namjoon vomit blood in the middle of the street.

He got down on his knees in distress, rubbing his friend’s back as he pulled out his phone to call an ambulance. Some people crowded the scene, even going as far as getting out of their cars to help them.

While Jimin instructed the hospital on their location, Namjoon gagged harshly, feeling stuck with something burning through his throat, almost like it was too large to even consume, let alone retched up.

“Yes, please. We’re here at W 6th and Namu Avenue.” Namjoon pushed as hard as possible, and the content finally came out. “Perfect, thank you,” Jimin said before ending the call. “They’ll come in five mi—Joon.…”

With barely enough strength, Namjoon open eyes and turned to see his friend’s aghast expression. Jimin felt himself grieving over him, the tears burst out of control and ran down his reddened cheeks. So Namjoon looked away, unable to see his friend’s crying. Then he suddenly realized why—

There lay blood-stained daisies in the pool of crimson, enough to make a bouquet. Loose petals plastered around, mocking creating a large heart surrounding the arrangement.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jimin whimpered, resting his forehead on the taller’s back. He felt the tears staining his shirt, but that was the least of his problems.

-

“I’ll give you two some time alone,” Dr. Min told them. He looked at his sickly patient, then towards Jimin. “Maybe talk him into it.”

“Thanks, Hyung.” Jimin nodded. Dr. Min excused himself and closed the door while Jimin kept his eyes on his friend. 

After the incident, Namjoon lost consciousness. Jimin was there every step of the way and almost recklessly used his authority to get his friend help. Fortunately, Dr. Min was his supervisor and a good friend that came quickly when he found out what happened to his patient.

Namjoon woke up to them discussing his choices regarding this illness, but he stayed quiet and drank water. He knew Jimin was upset at him for not telling about his condition but was more afraid of him telling you , someone innocent in all of this.

“I know you’re still not feeling well, but I need to know, as your colleague, your friend, your brother, fuck as me! Someone who cares so much about you!” Jimin huffed, feeling frustrated at the situation. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Namjoon chuckled, but nothing was light about it. “You really think I’d tell her? She’d blame herself, and it’s not her fault.”

“At least, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sure you’d say the same thing as Dr. Min….” Namjoon glowered, inspecting the needles and tubes attached to his wrist. “This is something that’s my problem. Because in all honesty, Jimin, what would you have done? You can’t tell me I shouldn’t love her. You can’t tell her to love me. There really wasn’t anything you could do.”

“But…but…I would have been there for you.” Jimin sniffed, his eyes glistening at the sight of his friend. “I would stay by your side even if you were getting worse. No one should go through this alone.” He walked up and gently clasped his hand, noticing how weak he’s gotten.

“How long since you’ve known?” Jimin licked his lips, trying to see any more pain in him.

“I don’t know, but the first time I saw flowers was during your Christmas party.”

“So you’ve been keeping this a secret for almost a whole year?” The shorter released his hold to pace around the room, having many emotions riling his body. “Joon, you’re dying, you know that? There’s no cure unless you do the surgery? Why haven’t you said yes?”

“Because there are consequences to it that I don’t know if I’d accept.” Namjoon had to stay calm. It was better this way, thinking it’d make his friends hurt a little less. “Why live a life without love?” Jimin kept silent, gathering his reasons for the hypothetical question. “The doctor said if I do the surgery, I can’t love again. Go on my life not loving? I’d live an empty life. I wouldn’t get married, have children, see them grow….”

“Technically, you still can.”

“Jimin, life would still be empty, and it would hurt everyone around me, including my parents, you, Jungkook, ___.” He cried at your name. “I can’t live without loving her. It’s hard. I loved her since I was 11, Jimin, and as it pains me to see her with someone else, I have to let her go.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you’re dying!”

“And if I don’t love, I would be dead inside.” Namjoon smiled bitterly. “I lose either way.”

Jimin sighed, brushing his fingers through his hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying his best to talk to him. “While you were unconscious, I talked with Dr. Min. He explained to me how there was a recent study on post-surgery for Hanahaki. There were about ten subjects. The researcher found that despite the common knowledge of not loving, there’s a 50% chance that you may feel it again.”

Namjoon’s eyes glimmered towards his friend, “What? How’d you get this?”

“Yoongi Hyung didn’t know much about the illness, so he had to go through studies and experiments to learn more about it. He stumbled upon this one issued almost two years ago by one of the nation’s prestigious schools.” Jimin articulated what he absorbed from his superior. “There’s still hope for you.”

“Jimin, I don’t know…I don’t feel like gambling my life like that.” Namjoon was uncertain. He was stuck in the middle because either he loved again or didn’t. With the adversity he has been under, the universe wasn’t on his side on this.

“You’re not gambling your life; you’re finding reasons to live, to love.” Jimin reasoned. “You can do all the things you wish to do. You shouldn’t give up, Joon.”

“I-I need time to think this through….” He concluded. There was the temptation to all of it, but he needed to think carefully about his decision. Right now, he’s emotional, Jimin’s emotional; this whole thing is an emotional mess.

“Though Dr. Min can’t say this, I can. You don’t have much time left. That scene triggered you going into the final stage. I don’t want you to die.” Jimin spoke his thoughts. “But whatever decision you make, I’ll be right by your side.”

“Thank you, Chim.” Namjoon nodded. “D-did you tell her? About my condition?”

The shorter breathed out before shaking his head, “No, I thought you would be the one to tell her. But she does know you’re in the hospital. She and Jungkook are in the waiting room. I said you fainted and threw up on the street.”

“You can’t tell her about it, please.” Namjoon pleaded. “I don’t want her to take the blame. None of this is her fault.”

Not arguing with him, Jimin questioned, “So what do we say? You’re dying, and you can’t say you have a fever.”

“Just say I have a tumor.”

“I don’t know if that’s worse or not….”

“I technically do, except instead of a tumor, it’s fucking daisies growing in my lungs!” Namjoon retorted. “Look, whatever it is, she can’t know that I have Hanahaki because she’ll find out I’m in love. She can’t know this, please.”

Jimin bit inside his mouth, “Fine, I won’t tell her, but make your decisions on the surgery soon.”

-

“Oh, Joon!” You cried, rushing towards him. You threw your hands over his body and sobbed. Jungkook trailed behind with a stuffed koala with a ‘Get Well’ balloon, then Jimin was the last to come back in before closing the door. 

Namjoon didn’t like how sad you looked as he hugged you back. He caressed your hair before parting away to get a glimpse of you. You were whimpering, snot running down your nose, crocodile tears shedding, and the spark of pain yet relief in your eyes.

“Jimin told us what happened. We left work and sped here, we waited for hours, and… why didn’t you tell me you had a tumor?” You had so many questions, but this was taking priority.

Namjoon glanced at Jimin, who had his arms crossed over his chest. He nodded slightly, keeping the promise.

“Uhh, I didn’t want you to worry.” He answered softly.

“Now you’re in the hospital, on the brink of death!” You were hurt; he kept it from you, but more so, scared for his life. You didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“I’m sorry, it’s complicated…Doctor said I could go through surgery, but….”

“But? But what? Why don’t you?” You reached for his hands. It was a thing you used to do as children, and you did find a way to comfort each other.

But though it was comforting, it was also intensely painful for Namjoon.

His heart throbbed, but he contained the ache. He pushed your hands off of him and rested them on his lap.

“It’s just…it’s complicated.” He responded the best that he could without lying. He’s already lying so much more than he did in your entire friendship.

You stared at him, trying to comprehend what he said. You needed to understand, and you had a hunch that he wasn’t adequately telling you.

“Do you think you two can leave, so we can talk privately?” You rotated back at Jimin and Jungkook. The sense of desperation was oozing through your contact.

Jungkook nodded without missing a beat, understanding the privacy needed. He placed the koala on the table and mumbled reassurances to the taller. Jimin said nothing but followed your boyfriend out and closed the door behind him.

Now you two were alone.

It’s been a while since it was just you and him. You missed it. Though you tried your best, your days grew hectic, and schedules were tight, being unable to hang out with your best friend.

You observed his state, he lost the honey color in his skin, and the darkened puffs around his eyes were accentuated by his bloodshot eyes. His hair was matted and greased, not having its usual volume. His body looked thinner, seeing his bones popping out every now and then.

“I never would have thought you’d end up like this.” You spoke truthfully. “It pains me to see you like this, Joon.”

“I know, flower.” He agreed, not wanting to look you in the eye. It really could be damaging to him.

“Are you doubting the surgery? Is it the cost? The quality, because I can help you—”

“No, it’s not like that, flower. I promise.” Even at his weakest point, he strived to make you not worried for him. “It’s…there are consequences to the surgery that I don’t know if I could live with.”

“What do you mean?”

He tried getting himself together to come up with a reasonable explanation without saying too much, “The doctor said I’d lose feeling to some parts of my body.”

“And so…”

“So, I wouldn’t live my life the way I want to.” He sighed, thinking about his tender memories with you. His eyes started to swell at the possibility of it disappearing. “I would feel dead inside. I don’t know if I can survive like that.”

“Did he say anything else? Is there something that can counter that? I—was this only option?”

“He talked about some study on it and said there’s a 50% chance I could feel again. It’s just risky, you know? I’m shooting through hoops for it, and I’m….” His voice trembled in tone. “I’m tired. I’m tired of all of it. I wanna give up.”

“No, I refuse for you to give up.” You disapproved.

“No, it’s okay—”

“It’s not okay, Namjoon.” You seethed with rage, standing up from the bed.

“Look, flow—”

“No, I won’t let you. You used to tell me to never give up, stay hopeful, and that I’ll get better with time.” Your eyes welled with tears at the very thought of Namjoon giving up on himself. “Now that you’re giving up, you’re telling me to be okay with that?”

“Why not?” He bawled back.

There it was, what he’s been hiding from you—the loose, broken pieces shattered instead of being taped together like everything was fine.

When he first found out, he lost all hope in what he had to offer the world. He didn’t want to act upon being a human and grieve on his experience. It wasn’t like him. He wanted you to see him be okay and happy and work his way through life and obstacles with ease like he always wanted for you.

This was the first time you saw lost. 

“I’m already dying. What’s the point, ___?” He broke down. “I can’t be strong anymore. It made matters worse. Look, I failed myself. I failed you as your best friend. I’m really a failure. I’ve been blinded by hope and being content, not noticing that I’m getting worse.”

You took in his words, trying to understand him. You saw him fall into a pit of insecurity and despair. It was scary for you, this being one of the few times you saw him like this. It was usually the other way around, and for that, you needed to be there for him. Comfort him like he did with you, care for him like he did with you, continuing on his side with love and support.

“Remember when Seokjin cheated on me, I asked you why things like that happened?” You pointed out, taking a step to sit back down.

“Yeah, you were a mess. You couldn’t stop crying.”

“Yeah, but I slept good that night.” You chuckled, earning a slight smile from him. “You said hurt is temporary, and you’ll heal from it.”

“Wow, I said that. I must have been a liar.” He joked, causing you to snort at his self-deprecation. He shifted his head out to the window, the sun setting for the day, bringing a soft, warm hue into his bleak room. 

“No, you were telling the truth, and things got better.” You said. “But then I asked you if something was wrong with me because bad things kept happening.”

“What about it? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“You called me one of the most special people out there.” You grinned, reaching over to his hands and intertwining them into yours. “If I’m one of the most special, Namjoon, you’re irreplaceable.”

He finally faced you. Your face was touched by the golden hour, the dried tears reflected. All the hope he once had was migrated onto you. The building of hope he helped you through the years was finally reflected. It was your turn to give back.

You sniff-kissed his palms, and it didn’t hurt him for once. It melted his troubles away for a split second and made his heart skip a beat in the way it was supposed to be.

“No one in this world can match you. You are like no other. You brought better days than I could never imagine, always thinking of others before yourself.” Your promising irises said it all, the truth of himself within. “The universe gives the hardest challenges to the most powerful, resilient ones because it knows how much you can endure. It’s testing you.”

Your grip was firm, more robust than his, as he applied pressure to your hands. “Once it’s over, you will be rewarded vastly. It’ll give you the best things, you name it. You won’t regret anything your heart faces and desires. Good will happen to someone like you. Please don’t give up.” You wheezed out, sobbing into your linked hands. “You’ll be alright, I promise. We’ll be here for you. I’ll be here for you.”

Namjoon joined closer to you, his forehead resting on the top of your head. You felt his tears dripping on your scalp, but that didn’t matter. You then embraced one another, refusing to let go. The dimming sun cascaded your shadows onto the white walls of the hospital room.

Serene was anything but you two. Instead, a fire ignited within, blazing a rush, lighting up the untapped potential inside both of you. The flames grew when together, too powerful for the world to see. So it was decided they had to stay apart, as they’re not always meant to last. Still, without their mirrored flame, if one died, so did the other. 

Separation should never be permanent with you and Namjoon. 

The day was young. The window was opened to lure fresh wind into his nostrils. He’s been in this room for days, but he won’t be in here any longer. He eyed the skinny cylindrical vase, and a single daisy emerged into the half-filled water. The decor was a small gesture from Jungkook, who got the idea from Jimin. 

Though alone, that one daisy carried purpose to its life, creating beauty and awing anyone that surrounded it. It was the last one he probably would see for a while.

A knock interrupted his gaze from the vase. Following the sound, he found his doctor in the doorway with a bright smile.

“Ready?” Dr. Min asked.

Namjoon closed his eyes and breathed a final deep, flower-filled breath.

“Ready.”

-

The ceremony was absolutely breathtaking, with nothing but large smiles on everyone. Laughter filled the air, food filled their stomachs, and you and Jungkook’s love filled the entire reception. Everyone felt your eternal love, resonating with that very feeling in their own lives.

All but Namjoon.

After the successful surgery, he recovered quickly, bringing joy to your lives. But he lost his loving memories with you. He still remembered who you were, how you grew up, and the memories you made with him. He even knew why he had the surgery in the first place. But he doesn’t remember or feel ever being in love with you.

He was your best friend who you platonically loved.

Namjoon didn’t know what love was all together. It was something he couldn’t fully grasp. If someone were to ask, he gave an indefinite answer or a simple ‘I don’t know.’

He did feel like a big hole was in his chest, finding it difficult to get anything to fill it up. Days were long and tiresome. Things happen, things don’t. It was all mundane for him. He felt numb to the world at times. He doesn’t know if he regretted his decision.

But if there’s one thing he knew was that he cared. He cared a lot about his friends, work, and family, never wanting them to feel down or hurt. If they needed him, he’ll come in faster than you could say his name. He enjoyed being there for them. It made him happy.

But not enough to love, whatever that was.

You were his best friend he cared for.

He cared so much that he helped Jungkook plan his proposal with you and the wedding. Jungkook even begged him to be his best man, to which the taller agreed with flying colors.

In your opinion, the ask to be his best man was unexpectedly more notable than your own proposal.

Namjoon watched you and Jungkook dancing on the floor, nothing but smiles and stolen touches between the two. Even when crying, you were still happy with your husband. He was glad you finally found someone worthy enough for you, also glad you weren’t wasting your time with stupid boys who only cared about their dicks in something.

He wondered what it was having that, but he felt nothing. The crater in him only expanded. Was it even possible for him? It didn’t seem as interesting, so he pushed it aside.

“Hey, you okay?”

His head turned to see Jimin sitting beside him at their designated table. The doctor offered him a glass of wine, which he gladly accepted.

“Yeah, just watching.” He shrugged.

“You holding up alright?”

Namjoon’s lips twitched in dissatisfaction, “I think I’ve been before. I don’t know.”

Jimin peeked at the newlyweds and asked, “Do you’d ever tell her?”

“It happened; it’s already in the past. Just gotta move on.” He sighed. “Again, I know she wouldn’t forgive herself if I told her all about it.”

“I understand.” The shorter nodded, swirling his glass in his hand.

“But I will tell her what’s happening now. I think she needs to know that at least.” He took one more sip before putting it down on the table. He got up and headed in your direction.

Jimin smiled, seeing the last moments of you and your best friend together.

Namjoon tapped on your husband’s shoulder, catching their attention. He cleared his throat and pushed forth his hand in front of you. “May I have a dance with my best friend?”

Jungkook beamed at him and nodded willingly. He palmed the small of your back and assisted you to your friend. “Just don’t fall in love with you.”

You all laughed as Namjoon snorted, “Gross, never.”

Jungkook walked away, leaving you to sway to the soft beats of the music. You wrapped your arms around his nape while he palmed your sides firmly. He wasn’t the best dancer, but this was manageable. You both swayed seamlessly together, almost like your bodies were conditioned to.

You looked up at him. He was much healthier, cheeks protruded like when you were children, and his body grew thicker as he ate well and exercised more. But what pressed you was his eyes. Though being better, they struggled to keep luminosity. Some days were high; others were low. You assumed he had gotten moodier after the surgery, but still the authentic Kim Namjoon.

“Ummm, though I want you to enjoy your wedding, there’s something I needed to tell you. It’s important.” He announced as he took the lead in the dance. He unexpectedly twirled you around, making you squeal and grab the collar of his suit.

“You’re not dying again, right?” Though the tone seemed sarcastic, you hardened your face.

“No, I’m not.” He scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes.

 “Good, you’re not allowed to leave me.” You pouted cutely. 

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not gonna leave.”

“Huh, what do you mean?”

“I got a job offer to work in Madrid. Remember Hoseok? He referenced me to one of their museums, and they liked my work.”

“Oh, Joon! I’m so happy for you.” You congratulated him, then squeezed him tightly in your hug. “You’ll do great. When do you leave?”

“In a few months, I told Hoseok I needed some time to transition and finish up some work. I think it’ll be good, you know? A new change after my…tumor. Maybe I’ll feel better…I’ve been feeling stuck. I know I didn’t tell you right away, but you had the wedding and planning….”

“I don’t care. It’s fine. It’s understandable.” You smiled endearingly at your friend. “You know I’ll always love you, right?”

Namjoon crooned, “I love you too.”

Of course, he didn’t think he meant it, not grasping the words. It held no effect on him. But he knew that you enjoyed saying it to him, so to avoid any suspicions, he says it. 

“You’re gonna be so far.” You frowned.

“Hey, I’m gonna call. We’ll do video calls now, and you’ll be able to explore Madrid vicariously towards me.” He promised, holding your form.

“You better…”

“Okay, enough about me. How do you feel?” He changed the subject to the meaning of tonight. “You’re a married woman.”

“It’s weird. My last name is now Jeon.” You stated. “I’m not used to it.”

“Could have been worse. Could have been Kim.” He quipped, making you throw your head back.

You scrunched your nose. Your grin morphed lower as a thought came up. ��You remember Seokjin, right?”

“My God, why are you bringing up your ex on your wedding day?” He retorted. You gave a stern look, but it didn’t cause him fear. “But yes, what about him?”

“It wasn’t much about him. It was something he said after we broke up.” You squinted up as if it helped you remember.

“And?”

“Well, I ran into him in the cafeteria. It was like during finals. You weren’t there. You had your art analysis exam.” You recollected from the back of your mind. “He apologized, but it didn’t matter. But he told me he cheated because he knew he couldn’t win.”

“I know I’m not that experienced, but I don’t think a relationship is about winning,” Namjoon commented, still having the urge to punch that guy.

“No, no. He wasn’t like that. But I didn’t know what he was talking about at that time.” You breathed deeply and sighed. “He told me it was because of you.”

“Me? What about me?”

“He saw our friendship and deemed it as a threat.” You uncovered. “You and I were so closer, he felt like he was in the way and that he lost before it even started. ”

“But it wasn’t like that, right?” He probed, not thinking anything more. However, with your long pause and the discomfort on your face, it made him raise a brow at you. “___, speak please.”

“He got me thinking—what if it was you?” You shared. “That the love was much more than what we showed.”

The hypothetical question consumed his mind. It’s been a while since he was deep in thoughts like this. They were always meaningless and showed no impact. Similar to this one, inside him went blank.

“Can’t fathom it….” He could only say.

“I thought he was nuts, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought about wanting it to happen.”

That’s when Namjoon blinked dumbfounded at you. What did you mean by that?

“What did you say? W-why say it now?”

“Because it was in the past, and it stopped after meeting Jungkook.” You answered, reminiscing about those thoughts and feelings. “Now we’re good, happier now, and just look back at it and laugh.”

“You said it was in the past now. What did you think?” Namjoon wanted to understand, curious about what you were hiding from him.

“That…that I liked you. Maybe even falling in love with you??”

Namjoon only wished to have felt what you said, but it was all numb. “O-oh.”

“I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no. You’re not, flower. I’m…I’m just a bit surprised.” He denied it, inhaling slowly and releasing his breath.

“I was too. Now thinking back, it would have been very cliche.” You giggled. “We’re breaking stereotypes.”

“We’re unmatched.” He smiled, his dimples being emphasized. “What made you stop having those thoughts?”

You tilted your head and gazed to the side of you to find your reflections. “Mmm, I think our souls were destined to meet like we had a gravitational pull that couldn’t tear us apart. I thought about twin flames.”

“Interesting concept. Tell me more.”

“Kinda like two peas in a pod. We’re one soul split in between two bodies. We see things in us that others can’t.”

“Flower, you can’t say we’re twin flames when you just married your soulmate.”

“It’s different! Twin flames just understand each other to no avail, while soulmates are naturally compatible.”

“Then how did this make you stop? Because in my opinion, it only would lead to more.” He went being a devil’s advocate for no reason. Maybe a stab at you for his past self?

“Two fires together will only create a bigger fire.” You simply explained. “We were meant to be, but we aren’t meant to be.”

The two of you continued to dance, being the few left on the floor. Your loved ones looked at you, intrigued by the strength of your bond.

And it indeed was.

You were made to test and develop your very understanding of yourselves, energy, and one another. You provided active spiritual growth as each other’s catalysts, awakening your mirrored souls. You pushed each other to release your wounds, remove any blockage that came your way, and help to lead you to true love, whether it was self-love or finding the love of your life.

Right before his surgery, Namjoon wondered what would have happened if you had reciprocated his love for you. Would it have been a happily ever after? Or ruin your friendship through the combustion too much for you both to handle?

What if you saw in him what he saw in you? What if you spoke to him like he spoke to you? What if you thought of him like he thought of you? What if life hurt you like it did with him? Would you ever love him the way he loved you?

He will never know.

But above all, he was glad to be with you, even if it meant being only your best friend. You continued your life and yourself, attached to his existence.

And if he lived a hundred years, for a hundred years, he’ll think of you.

All rights reserved for ©️ icedmatchatae 2022 (｡●́‿●̀｡)

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #kim namjoon #bts x reader #bts fanfic #matcha masterlist

[alt0writings]

Flowers and dates

fandom: supernatural

Dean Winchester x GN!reader

Note: I know I am two stories behind I am working on getting them out as soon as I can more notes at the bottom.

Monday

the bell rung above my door. I look up and smile as two men walk into the store they seem to be arguing about something. It was none of my business but I will admit I was curious about what they were talking about.

I continued to wipe the counter down. the men walked up to the counter and they stopped talking, the taller man put his hand on the counter. "Excuse me, but do you have lotus and perhaps maybe even datura?" the tall man asked.

I nod and smile "yes I do sell those but unfortunately the shipment hasn't come in yet" I smile apologetic at the two men. the shorter one sighed and ran his fingers threw his hair, "alright, come on Sam."

the Sam guy looked a little disappointed, I felt bad "I am very sorry" Sam shook his head and smiled. "it's not your fault," both men start walking towards the door before Sam turns around. "when would you get those in?" I peek under my counter and read the paper for shipments.

"tomorrow, I should have them in tomorrow." I nod and smile slightly at them. the shorter one nods and smiles shyly back a pink hue dusted his cheeks, Did he always look so adorable? "we'll uh.. be back uh.. tomorrow then" he nervously laughs and scratches the back of his neck. they both walk out the door.

what a weird start to my week.

Tuesday

I huffed and wiped my forehead, these boxes are so heavy. "do you need help?" I jumped and let out a small squeak. spinning around and tripping backwards, hands grabbed my arms and stopped me from hitting the ground.

"Woah there, be careful" he laughs I glare at him before it hits me. "oh.. OH! you're the guy from yesterday, the one that came in with the taller one" He groans and blushes, "yeah.. yeah, so uh.. you need help?" I step closer and do puppy eyes "yes please help me!"

he laughs and strikes me with his dazzling smile.

woah.

"yeah I'll help you" he went and picked up a box "where does this one go?" I smile and point over to the daisy's.

it took an hour to get all of the boxes into the shop I wipe my hands on my pants. "hey my names dean by the way" he nervously scratched the back of his neck, I smile and nod "well nice to meet you dean my names Y/n" I hold out my hand for him to shake.

He shakes my hand "woah.." he whispered and a pink hue dusted his cheeks "I uh.. like y-your name." I shyly smile "thank you" I said before glancing at the clock on the wall

"Oh no! I have to go," I rush and push him out the door. I flip the sign to close and lock the door "I am super late for a date good bye dean!" I yelled out behind me as I took off running down the side walk.

wednesday

I sigh tugging gently on the pedals of a flower, I just wanted to go home and sleep on my couch. I place the flower back down in a vase, the bell above the door rings, I was expecting dean but it was just Mr. Joonson. I gave him a smile but he must of saw through it.

"what's wrong Y/n?" he says while placing his normal order of flowers. I smile "oh nothing just tired I guess." he scoffs "you and my wife are the same person I swear!"

I laugh and roll the designed paper around the flowers. I place a ribbon around the paper and tie it together. "I can see that you are lying yet you won't tell me what's wrong, does it have something to do with that boy?" I raised my eye brow and stared at him. "what boy?" he smirks "Y/n I have been married to shelly for 19 years. I know that love look." I shyly smile and hand him the bouquet. "no and his name is dean Mr. Joonson" I said to him teasingly he smiles and shakes his head "see you next week Y/n" I wave goodbye to him and smile I envy their marriage. I shrug "welp back to work" I mumble out loud to myself

thursday

I sigh it's only two hours into my shift and I am already ready to leave, I yawn and lay my head on the counter closing my eyes for a minute. the bell above the door rings. I lazily open one eye and am met with a dazzling smile.

Dean.

"Hey, I came in to see..uhh." He seemed to freeze up a pink dust covered his cheeks, I yawn and sit up stretching. "To see if the flowers were in?"

He nods blushing even more. "Yeah to see if the flowers are in.." His voice got quiet but I paid no mind. I get out from behind the counter and start going through the flowers "what flowers were you looking for again?" He coughed and shook his head.

"Oh uhm. Lotus and uh date or something doubt-" I cut him off "Datura." He nods, "yeah that." I smile and start looking through the D's.

Daisy, Dandelions, Datura.

"Got it, how many did you need?" I turn towards him. "Uh maybe like four?" He says confused. I chuckle and nod "four it is" I pick up four and hold them in my other hand "now lets go find the lotus.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L. "Here" i said as I grabbed four of them "come on I will wrap these."

We both walk back to the counter and I pull out the design paper wrapping the flowers. I grab a ribbon and tie it around the middle of the bouquet. "Here you go dean" I smile at him, he seems kind of nervous.

"Hey uh.. Will you uh.." He groaned and scratched the back of his head.

"Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?" He huffs out, I could see the uncertainty and doubt in his eyes.

I smile and nod "yeah sure I'm not doing anything tomorrow anyway." His smile widened and he nodded before walking out the door. He was trying to keep his composure as he walked out the door.

I walked to the window, he was crossing the street and doing a happy skip to his car. I could see sam outside the car leaning against it, I laughed and shook my head before going back to the counter.

What a weird week this has been.

Friday

Today was rather uneventful, I sigh and glance over at the outfit I have picked out for the date. I don't have his number either so I don't know when he is coming, I glance at the clock.

The clock said 4:08pm, I close the shop soon. I heard a rumbling from outside, it’s starting to rain. I groan why does it have to rain? I lay my head down on my crossed arms and close my eyes. 

The bell rings and the sound of wet squeaky boots sound on the tiled floor. I open my eyes and sit up.

There in all his glory was Dean. He was wearing a white T-shirt with a red flannel jacket  and jeans. I smile “well don’t you look dapper” he blushes and has a sly smile, “yeah, I had no dress pants or a nice shirt besides this one.” he nervously laughs.

I shake my head “you’re fine dean I don’t expect you to be in a suit and pullin’ up in a limo” I laugh out “let me get around real fast and we can leave” I grab the outfit and walk into the back employee bathroom and lock it. 

After changing, I unlock the door and walk out towards the front of the store. When I round the corner I find him crouched and cursing under his breath.

In front of him was a knocked over flower pot, he was trying to get the pot together and the dirt back in the pot. I smiled and leaned against the wall to watch for a minute, he huffed and pushed the flower back into the dirt and placed the pot back on the windowsill.

He seemed proud of himself, I let out a little laugh covering my mouth. He jumped and whirled around “how long were you standing there!” I shake my head and walk up to him.

“Not that long, Don’t worry about it.” I say while smiling, he smiles back and sticks out his arm. I take his arm. 

“Thank you” I say politely.

We both walked out into the rain parked right in front of us, was his car. He opened the passenger door and closed it when I got in.

He ran to the driver's side and quickly got in, "I am sorry if you got wet" he says while turning on the heat "I didn't know it was gonna rain" he forced out a chuckle before starting the car.

"It's ok" I smiled at him "so where are we going?" I question while buckling my seat belt in.

He smiles "A diner" he lets out a small laugh. "A nice diner" I smile and nod "ok sounds nice" I looked out the window for the rest of the ride.

It took about 15 minutes to get to the diner, there weren't many cars parked in the parking lot, it being around 5 so it was a little late for people to be out and at a diner. Dean pulled up into a parking spot close to the front door, the rain calmed down quite a bit but it was still pouring rain out there. 

“Alright, are you ready?” he laughs while turning to look at me, I laugh and nod. We both quickly get out and run inside. We laugh as we push each other through the door, I shake my head “sh! come on let’s not disturb these poor people” I quietly whisper to him. 

We go and sit down at a booth, an older looking lady walks over and hands us two menus. “So what can I do for you sweets?” she turned to me, I smiled “I will just get a  cheesy bacon burger with fries” dean gasped and stared at me in awe. “I planned on getting the same thing!” I laugh “really?” I said before handing my menu to the waitress “yeah I totally was” he says doing the same thing. “I’ll be back with your orders hun’s” the waitress said as she walked away. 

“You’re very interesting Y/n” I whipped my head towards dean. “Really?” he nods before he clears his throat and blushes “yeah, and even though this is the beginning of our date I would like to have another one if you are up to it?” he says leaning on the table.

My smile widens and turns into an evil smirk “hm, well I would have to see about it.” I could feel the disappointment coming off him in waves. I laugh “I am just joking of course I will go on another date with you.”

He looked like an oversized puppy, he was happy.

Note: so I have been dealing with this sickness for a week and a half it's been destroying me, but I have been trying to write this for you all and school has kept me so busy when I wasn't sick so I am super sorry that this is late.

#dean winchester #supernatural #samuel winchester #flowers #dean x reader #fluff #dean winchester x reader

[it-happened-one-fic]

A Companion Quite as Enjoyable - Jade

Author Notes: Hiking with Jade with a dash of daisies. That is honestly all there is to this one. Simple but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you'll enjoy reading it. Reader is, once more, gender-neutral.

Type: Fluff/Platonic or Romantic

Word Count: 1303

I paused, resting a hand against a tree and breathing heavily from exertion. Up ahead I could clearly see the young man I'd been trailing after what seemed like hours. His eyes were bright as he knelt, finishing a quick sketch of what was no doubt a mushroom. 

His book shut with a snap and he stood, slipping the book into his pocket and turning to look at where I stood in one fluid motion. “We’ll be at a good resting point soon… Do you believe you can make it?”

At first I couldn't decide if his grin was simply amused or mocking but the closer I drew to him the more I felt it was the latter. “You know Jade, when you said hiking I didn’t realize you meant an excursion quite like this one.”

He tilted his head, mismatched eyes glittering with poorly concealed amusement at my evident fatigue, “Yes, well. I suppose I should have warned you that I have grown quite used to such exercise.”

Mocking, Definitely mocking.

He turned, leading me further up the invisible path he seemed to know by heart. It made me wonder exactly how many times he’d gone hiking up this mountain. But I followed him with no complaint because, despite the fact I was alone in the woods on a mountain with Jade Leech of all people, I wasn’t concerned. 

This venture had, to my surprise, turned out to be quite enjoyable. It was true that the walk was exhausting but I’d learned quite a bit about my infamous classmate. 

He was an avid lover of plants, especially mushrooms and the poisonous variety. He also was an exceptional landscape artist. His little sketches were both accurate and attractive. He could also be quite the chatterbox as I'd learned when I'd questioned him about one mushroom that had been glowing an ominous orange color.

I smiled to myself as I thought about the almost charming quirks I’d discovered about my current companion. It was hard to view him as quite so scary or intimidating now that I’d seen him geek out about mushrooms.

“Y/n, we’re here,” His ever calm voice caught my attention, sending my gaze sliding back to where he now stood. He held a branch just slightly out of the way to reveal a sight that immediately made me smile. It was a veritable field of daisies.

What it was doing out here in the middle of nowhere I had no clue. But if my time at NRC had taught me anything it was to enjoy life’s little delights. So I did, trotting out into the clearing with a bright smile.

“My, you do look pleased.” I turned at his words, vaguely startled to see Jade smiling at me as he unloaded our lunches from his oversized yellow backpack. I’d honestly completely forgotten about Jade’s presence. 

His butler persona was back in full force but I hardly cared. Instead, I found myself trotting back over to him as gleefully as ever which only seemed to further amuse him, “I take it you like these flowers?”

 I nodded almost immediately at his question, “Yeah, I guess they remind me of home.” Something familiar in a largely unfamiliar world. 

I smiled at him, refusing to let such thoughts dampen my current mood, “When I was little I’d pick bundles of daisies and present them as bouquets to my mom. The stems were so short she’d have to put them in juice glasses.”

I chuckled slightly at the memory and shook my head slightly, “Poor things never lasted very long since I would always squeeze them half to death before getting them to her….” 

I trailed off, realizing I’d been rambling when I noticed his smile. I hurriedly turned my gaze to my food, clamming up in embarrassment.

 I hadn’t actually talked to anyone about home since I’d gotten here and I certainly hadn’t expected the first person who would hear about it would be Jade.

“I see,” He sighed slightly and I glanced over at him to see him looking out across the field with a singularly odd expression. “I suppose these flowers are quite common since they even grow where you’re from.”

I tensed slightly at the direction the conversation was taking. It would be awkward if he asked where I was from. Especially since I’d been keeping the fact I was from an entirely other world a secret. 

“Do you like them?” The question spilled from my mouth in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation in some other direction. My attempt was a success considering he turned to me with wide-eyes as if he were surprised by my sudden question.

“I… I hadn’t ever really thought about it. They are nice enough I suppose.” I hummed, half-way amused by his faltering reply. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him falter save for in extreme situations.

“They’re edible, you know. I’ve never eaten any so I don’t know if they’re any good, but they aren’t poisonous or anything at the very least. Ruggie might have some recipes for them.” I thought out loud, recalling something my mom had once told me years ago when I was small.

I glanced over in time to watch as his expression brightened  with sudden interest. He leaned forward, intrigued by my fun facts, “Are they? I may have to collect some to try at the Monstro Lounge.”

I snorted at his newfound scheme, Azul would likely have a fit, “Like I said, I don’t know if they’re any good so you might want to try some for yourself before putting them on the menu.”

He hummed thoughtfully, probably thinking about how he could bully his housewarden into putting them on the menu, tasty or not. I almost felt bad for telling him but I found myself grinning as he put down his lunch as went about collecting flowers. 

I kind of felt bad for Ruggie too since I’d mentioned him. Jade would probably harass him about getting some recipes…..

“Y/n,” My head snapped up to see Jade looking down at me, a bundle of flowers in each hand. He wore a polite smile, one that I now recognized as a mask that he frequently wore around customers. That wasn't strange. What was strange was that he was holding out one bunch of flowers in front of me, “For you.”

I stared wide-eyed at the dainty flowers just in front of me, I certainly hadn’t expected this. I looked back up at him, confusion likely showing in my eyes since his smile changed from carefully crafted to amused in a blink and you’ll miss it instant.

“As thanks for accompanying me. It’s difficult to find anyone interested in joining me on a hike, much less a companion quite as enjoyable as you have been.” 

I hesitantly accepted the bouquet, my hand brushing his surprisingly warm hand as I took it. I don’t know why but I’d thought his hand would have been cool to the touch, instead it was warm, just like any other hand.

Something else that made him a little less intimidating and a little more approachable. I smiled up at him as I pulled the bouquet close to my chest, “Don’t mention it. I had fun.”

He straightened, his amused smile still in place, a tiny glimpse into his actual thoughts, “Then can I expect your company on my next trip?”

I grinned outright at his oddly playful question, nodding my head without hesitation, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

He nodded, apparently pleased with my response, “Then I will look forward to it, Y/n.” I didn’t respond but as I watched him pack away our leftovers and his bunch of flowers I realized that I too would look forward to our next outing.

#Twisted wonderland imagines #Jade x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #gender-neutral reader #Jade Leech #hiking #flowers #fluff #platonic or romantic #you choose #reader's mom is mentioned in passing #Jade x y/n #Jade x you #twst #Twisted wonderland x y/n #twisted wonderland x you #twst x y/n #twst x reader #twst x you #reader insert #I hope you like daisies #I do

[writer-in-theory]

Hi! So uh, this isn't edited at all. I wrote it on the fly and like, I'm half asleep. BUT! I saw you said you're sad and well, I'm that same anon that asked about prompts a while back. I don't expect you to answer this at all. It's wayyyy too big to post to your blog. That's just, cuckoo bananas. I just don't like seeing people sad. So like, random act of kindness type thing. Yah know? Anyway, hope this cheers you up a little? Maybe? Sorry it's so shit! 😂 but it's something!

“I’m miserable,” Eddie’s voice is just a mumble over the phone. His tone matches his words, defeated.

“What? Why?” Steve’s driving home, squinting through his windshield as rain pours down, wipers not doing much.

There’s a long sigh, Steve thinks he can hear an echo. Eddie must be in the bath. That’s how he knows it was bad. Eddie only ever takes baths on really very bad days.

“Well,” Eddie starts, and sure enough, Steve can hear the splash of water as Eddie moves in it. It’s long winded, Eddie’s explanation, takes a lot of detours because Eddie can never just say things straight. He slept past his alarm. 7Eleven didn’t have yellow Red bull, so he had to settle for regular or die drinking sugar-free. When he got outside it was pouring buckets and he slipped in an oil puddle, lost his breakfast sandwich. Ripped the thigh of his jeans in the process. When he got in his van the sunroof was leaking, leaking down into his new pack of cigarettes. When he went to drink his Red bull it exploded on him. Was extremely late to work and was made to do inventory in the back because he, ‘couldn’t be seen on the floor looking like that.’ “Which, like, whatever Jessica, she was wearing crocs with fishnets. Seriously. So, like, what’s the real crime here?”

“Eddie,” Steve chides, grins anyway.

“Really though, Steve. Anyway,” He takes another deep breath. Goes on about how when he went to put in his AirPods, so he didn’t have to sit in silent torture all day, they weren’t connecting. Which, wasn’t surprising because he phone had busted under the weight of his, ‘not so fat ass’ falling down on it. So, silent torture it was. Then, when he got off work he had therapy, which he was more than relieved to actually go to. He needed to vent. Only, when he got there he had, “bumped into your ex.”

“Tommy?” Steve asks and Eddie groans.

“Billy.”

“Oh.”

“He apparently goes to the same therapist as me. He says ‘hi,’ by the way. Wants to ‘catch up’ with you or whatever.” He’s mumbling again, “Does he drive a classic Camaro?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Asshole,” Eddie tried to say it quietly but Steve heard it none the less. Steve could imagine it. Could see Eddie all dirty, torn clothes, hair clumped up from the Red bull, come face to face with, “He looked like a damn Greek god. Smug, too.” Steve can hear the sneer in Eddie’s voice.

“Don’t worry about him. I’m not interested in catching up. Have you eaten?” There’s a long silence, and Steve can actually hear the loud grumble that emits from Eddie’s stomach. The mention of food probably igniting something in him.

“Big Mac large with a Dr. Pepper and six-piece chicken nuggets, honey mustard. Want an apple pie?”

Eddie stays silent and Steve knows what that means, “And an apple pie,” Steve says, “You finish up your bath, put on my big comfy robe, you know the one that you always steal?” Steve always acts so annoyed by it but he secretly loves it, knows Eddie knows that too, “put on The Fellowship of the Ring, get nice and cozy. I’ll do your hair tonight while you eat.”

Through the silence Steve can hear a small sniffle. It breaks his heart.

“I love you, Eddie,” Steve says, puts his car in park.

“I love you, too, baby.”

“Hold tight, I’ll be home soon,” They say their goodbyes.

---

Steve doesn’t just come home with a big bag full of McDonalds. He comes home with a bouquet of sunflowers and big colorful gerbera daisies and two great big Cinnabon cinnamon buns.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie pauses the movie as soon as Steve walks in. He’s leaning forward on the couch, eyes glittering as he looks over the Cinnabon bag. It’s of course not literally Wayne but the next best thing Steve could get him. Eddie had told him once that on rare occasions Wayne would have a night off. Which always meant he could take Eddie to school in the morning, dropping by Cinnabon to grab a quick super indulgent breakfast.

“Fuck, you’re the best,” Eddie says, gets up to help Steve get everything together. Only, Steve gently pushes him back down onto the couch.

“Watch your movie. I’ve got this,” Steve says. With a little hesitation Eddie does as he he’s told and watches as Steve sets the coffee table up for him. He lays out his food and settles the flowers in a vase. From there he makes a cozy little nest of pillows and blankets on the ground between the coffee table and the couch. Eddie shifts down into it easily as he starts to dig into his food.

Steve knows how easily Eddie forgets to feed himself. Always ends up like a wild animal by the end of the day, shoving food in his mouth like he’s never eaten before and doesn’t know when he’ll eat again. Steve settles behind him, wraps his arms around his shoulders, nuzzles his nose through the thick curtain of damp hair and kisses at his neck. Eddie turns his head, looks at Steve. He’s got a mouthful of burger and a fry in his hand and Steve presses a kiss to the corner of his lips, picks up a little bit of Big Mac sauce as he does. He doesn’t care, just licks his lips clean of it.

“That was kind of gross,” Eddie remarks after he swallows, a smile on his face regardless.

“Eh, I suck your dick, so,” Steve shrugs. Eddie nods, gives a look that says, ‘fair enough’ before shoving the fry in his mouth.

“I need a real one,” Eddie says around the fry.

“Real what?” Steve asks and Eddie points at his lips. Steve just smiles and leans down, presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips. It’s been years and yet, each time still feels like the first for Steve. Electricity flowing from his lips down to his heart, sparks popping over his skin. He pulls back, opens his eyes before Eddie. Eddie’s just frozen, head pressed back against Steve’s thigh. Eddie takes in a deep breath and slowly his eyes open, focus on Steve. Big brown eyes and they hold so many thoughts. Steve thinks the only one right now being ‘Love’.

“I think I’m going to start prepping breakfasts and lunches for you,” Steve says and watches as Eddie’s eyes glaze over. Thinks they’re now saying, ‘adore’.

“I’d like that,” Eddie says and Steve kisses him again.

They spend the rest of the night watching the movie. Steve settled behind Eddie. He’s working through Eddie’s hair. It’s a long process of different products. Conditioner, curl cream, a special brush that he has to twirl the hair on and over. He’s methodical with it. Takes his time, goes slow and gentle. Halfway through Eddie’s a puddle in his lap, dozing in and out of sleep. When he’s done he’s gently crunching up the newly made ringlets with gel. Takes one of Eddie’s black silk hankies and wraps his hair up in it.

Steve’s careful, so careful, to not wake Eddie. He slips his arms down, picks him up bridal style and moves him to the bed. He’d set it up the way Eddie likes it the best. He’s got every one of their fluffy comforters on it, makes a big nest in the middle of the bed. When he settles Eddie down in the middle of it he grabs their biggest fuzziest faux fur blanket and tosses it over him. When he turns to go and clean up Eddie whines, reaches out a hand and Steve turns to take it.

“Stay,” Is all Eddie says and Steve thinks that clean up can wait until tomorrow. Without hesitation he strips down and settles himself into the nest with Eddie.

There’s only a bit of shifting before they end up in Eddie’s favorite position. The one he likes to call, ‘Steve Bearrington.’ Which is just Eddie being the big spoon but likes to think of it more as Steve being his own personal teddy bear.

Eddie can’t say that he’d ever want another day like this, but if he can spend every night being spoiled by Steve Harrington, he thinks it’s more than worth it.

Sorry I posted this so late, I ended up wanting to hold onto it for awhile and re-read it about a dozen times. It's so so sweet and definitely helped me through some rough days, so thank you very much for sharing this with me 💜

Also your choice of Eddie's comfort meal is literally perfect and I love it.

#ask jay #anon #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[yxstxrdrxxm]

Dear Yesterday,

I heard about this flowershop from a friend, and I wanted to place an order for a bouquet. May I order a bouquet of daisys, sunflowers, and some yellow roses, please?

A parent of a friend is at the Mission Hospital down the road, Room number 143, under the name Wanda. I've received word from my friend that their prognosis isn't good, and I'm not in a position to leave immediately.

If it's possible, could you expedite this order? I'd like to get it to them before anything else happens.

Those flowers are her favorite.

I've enclosed $150 for the bouquet and the rush delivery.

Please keep the change.

Sincerely,

Kay

Raising the letter, Yesterday's brows furrowed at the request. They had a lot of things to cover, so this was a request they weren't expecting, especially when there was another shop that sold flowers.

"Daisies, sunflowers, and yellow roses..."

Jotting down the order, the florist nodded and looked at their storage. They didn't see why they wouldn't fulfill such a request, not that anyone would think of coming by to their shop at the current state they're in.

...

With a hum, they set the order on their notepad to fulfill it as soon as they could.

They'll make sure that the flowers get delivered to the recipient if they have a say in it.

Hello, this is Yesterday! I just received your commission for the bouquet, and you're in luck; I just happen to have them and I'll be adding a few more to your order! You didn't specify how much you wanted of each, so I made sure to have 3 of them in a single batch. I also came by to Mission Hospital to inquire about a few things (unrelated to my job, just insurance), and I'm sure that I can swing by as early as I can. I also left a message for your friend, too, and made sure to know who ordered the flowers for her. I hope that the flowers are to your liking, Kay! And please tell your friend to hold on. I'm sure that they'll feel at ease, knowing you're there to support them. Much love, Yesterday (P.S.: I also left an extra bouquet just for you— a batch of tulips, lilies and marigold. Please take it as a token from me to you, as I don't want you to neglect your health. If you need anymore flowers, please reach out to me. Thank you!)

#💌 ;; yesterday writes #💌 ;; promising letter: flawed #💌 ;; a letter from: Kay

[dolamrothianlady]

Bouquets (part two)

Leonard McCoy x reader 394 words

--- Another beautiful gift, this time with a note. ---

Pansies (loving feelings)

This time it was pansies. And not just one little pot like you saw in the grocery store in springtime, but one of those big packs with ten or so plants in it. Jim surely had to’ve said something to your mysterious admirer cause this was a big step up from your daisies; who had been doing very well in your garden this last week - new buds and everything! It really said a lot about your social life that new buds were a Big Event for you.

Though you really hadn’t expected to find anything with the flowers it came as a shock when you found a small note tucked in with the blooms, and you felt your heart skip at the single typed word.

Soon.

You could only assume that they’d typed it up so that you wouldn’t recognise their handwriting; a safe guess considering you lived in a small town. It wasn’t one of your early days, and as it was a bit too close to dark for gardening you settled for shifting the flower tray to your porch table, emptying the rest of your water bottle over them to perk them up a bit before heading inside to your dinner. And your phone.

“I really wish that on days I come home to gifts that you’d call and leave me some kind of message. I know you know who’s doing this. Anyway. You know that I’ve come home to more, and they’re just as lovely as the daisies. Give them my thanks again, and tell them that I got their note. Be a good boy and play messenger for me, would you? I’d like to meet them. Well, see them, I suppose, seeing as it’s someone I already know. Don’t tell them about this awkward message though, okay? Make me sound more coherent. You owe me.”

Your next shift at the library felt so long and just...odd. You found yourself thinking about everyone who came by, wondering if they could possibly be the one who left you the flowers, and were so incredibly suspicious that you were sure you were actually giving some of your patrons weird looks as you checked out their books.

You really didn't have a poker face for these kinds of situations, so whoever they were they needed to hurry up. Maybe you'd tell Jim that.

#leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy #reader #leonard mccoy fanfiction #star trek fanfiction #star trek au

[realmackross]

BRODY STEVENS | Mackenzie's fiancé.

warning: unsanitary tw, death tw, murder tw��

Mackenzie Ross and Brody Stevens had met on the set of Road Trippin', a romantic-comedy where they played the younger versions of the two main characters who were next door neighbors. An immediate friendship formed on set, and before long the two were hanging out when they weren't working. Over the years they had fell in and out of touch, until a project she was working on happened to be filming on the same lot.

Reconnecting with one another, Mackenzie and Brody had become closer than ever, and after a push from a mutual friend, the pair ended up dating, soon moving in with one another.

While she had stayed busy working on Dropped, Brody was taking a hiatus from acting to work on other side projects. But when word came that Mackenzie had been severely injured on set, he immediately hopped a red-eye flight back to Los Angeles to be with her. It didn't take long after that for Brody to pop the question, knowing he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and without hesitation, Mackenzie said yes.

Within no time she was back working on the show, and Brody had ventured back on the road to pick up where he had left off; which Mackenzie had insisted after she began experiencing strange cravings and struggling with her health. If it was one thing she didn't want to do, it was to worry him more. Thankfully, she had an amazing assistant who had stayed by her side and helped her through what she was starting to realize wasn't normal.

Making the decision to leave Dropped wasn't easy, but with movie offers coming in, an opportunity to work more on her music career, and more importantly spend time with her fiancé, she left the show that had both given her everything and would take everything away.

With Brody back at her side, it had become increasingly harder to keep her secret, but somehow she managed - of course not without a few arguments, but how could he doubt the woman he loved. As for being cold and barely having a heartbeat, she made the excuse that her thyroid was off, but it wasn't one that would last forever. In fact, every time she lied, Mackenzie felt a little worse and began having doubts knowing that he deserved someone so much better, despite how much she loved him.

Another movie offer falling into her lap, Mackenzie made the choice to accept the role knowing it would put her on the east coast for a few months. And at least give her time to decide how she wanted to open up to Brody. But fate is a funny thing and has a way of stepping in when you least expect it.

It was near the end of the shoot, but with everything on her mind, Mackenzie had failed to pack sufficiently, and in a panic had called her assistant praying the woman would find a local supplier who could at least send something her way to hold her over, until she got back to Los Angeles.

The day had dragged on and with an innate hunger beginning to take over and dumbing down Mackenzie's mental capacity, she was lucky just to make it back to her apartment. But what she found, instead of an emergency supply of brains, was Brody standing in her living room with a fresh bouquet of daisies - her favorite flower and the smell of steak, which she could barely make out, cooking on the stove.

The romantic and sweet gesture was one of the last things she remembered, before attacking the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and when she came to, the entire apartment, especially the kitchen, had looked like something out of a horror movie.

Sitting with Brody's mangled body in her lap, Mackenzie could only repeat the words "I love you" over and over again, while the only other person who knew what she was desperately tried to figure out a plan to clean up what had been a horrible accident and one Mackenzie could never forgive herself for.

Once the place was spotless and Brody's body disposed of, Mackenzie's only true ally helped write a story that she prayed Mackenzie would stick too. Everything in the young actress's life was riding on the belief that Brody had been brutally murdered and Mackenzie was a grieving widow. It was her biggest role to date, and the only role she had wished she could turn down.

With Hollywood mourning one of it's hottest young actors, Mackenzie had fled to a small east coast town that no one had ever heard of to try and save her career, reputation, and what was left of a so-called life she didn't want anymore. All while giving the media the more than legit appearance of someone who had truly lost everything.

#{in my head; about} #relationship: brody stevens #unsanitary tw #death tw #murder tw #{written in the stars; headcanon}

[andkisses]

you’ve been the best of friends for a long time—but now, something’s changed

kevin x reader | wc. 3.3k

genres/tropes: friends to lovers!au, fluff

mentions of/warnings: none

a/n: this was previously posted on my main @/pearlhoon, however when i accidentally deleted that blog, the fic was deleted as well. this is a reupload; it has not been renamed

If anyone had asked you when you expected your first big confession, and where it would be, and with whom, you never would have outlined your current situation.  Stuck in a music room with a view of the night sea, on a piano bench with your childhood best friend on the edge of tears, his hands resting against the pearl-colored keys.

When you first met Kevin, it was in high school.  You can’t remember how you became friends, but you suppose it doesn’t really matter.  By your last year, the two of you were inseparable—attending each other’s functions and events more often than family.  For every piano recital he had, you brought him a large bouquet of flowers, always making sure it had white daisies.  You joked about taking staged graduation pictures together, like siblings.

People would ask you sometimes if you’d ever thought about dating Kevin, and the question always made you laugh.  Date Kevin?  It wasn’t like he was bad—he was the exact opposite.  He had a sweet smile, an infectious giggle, and he knew you inside and out like a best friend should.  But he was just that: a friend.

Which was why it didn’t hurt all that much when the two of you went to different colleges.  They were close, sure.  A couple hours’ drive to visit each other.  At first, you would always be buying each other gifts for the other's dorm.  You bought Kevin a stuffed pink octopus with a blushy smile, and he would find you cheap trinkets to decorate your tiny desk with.

“You know I don’t have room for these?” you’d asked, peeling away the newsprint to reveal a tiny ceramic Eiffel Tower.

Kevin shrugged.  “Yeah, I know.  But it made me think of you, and you won’t be in a tiny dorm forever.  Maybe, one day, you’ll have a big place with a bookshelf just for things I got you.”

You laughed.  “A Kevin shelf?”

“Hah, yeah.”  He smiled, poking your smiling cheek in return.  “Something like that.”

It didn’t hurt when you found out through mutual friends he had dated some people, but it didn’t work out, and that definitely didn’t hurt, because Kevin deserved the best, and if it didn’t work out, they must not have been the best.

You could say that Kevin was more supportive of your dating adventures—almost too much sometimes.  It felt like you were a boat and he was on shore, untying the ropes and letting you drift off into the big wide ocean of college dating.  It felt like this, too, when you and his friend Juyeon spent one summer going on dates.  Nothing ever happened of it, and you’re not sure you would even call it dating, but Kevin seemed more distraught when you told him it didn’t end up working out than you did.

“It was fun while it lasted, but he’s not for me,” you explained.  Kevin sat across from you on the grass, the sun beaming down.  Soon, summer break would be over and the two of you would have to go back to college, back to being away from each other.  Sure, you’d spent a lot of this summer going on dates and adventures with Juyeon, but you missed all the time you normally would have spent with Kevin, too.

Kevin stared up, just past your shoulders, to the blue sky behind you.  He blinked, slow and languid, as if he were deep in thought as the sun bathed his features.  Then, the moment passed, and he was jumping to his feet.  “I know you must be crushed deep down, and it’s okay.  Dating hurts like that.  But you know what makes breakups feel better?”

You grabbed the hand he’d offered to help you stand up.  “The fact that I’m not actually all that crushed?”

“Something like that, but wrong answer.  It’s that ice cream fixes everything, especially when you don’t have to pay for it.”

It’s this supportiveness you’ve always loved so much, the feeling that Kevin would always be there for you.  That’s why, when he tells you he’s made it to nationals for his senior piano recital competition, you demand every piece of info you can get from him.  You book your flight, even with his protests of him saying you already have so much to do, it’s the end of the school year, you should focus on your own studies.  When you tell him it isn’t every day someone’s best friend has an opportunity like this, he gets quiet.  You decide he’s just being shy.

When the day arrives, you find your way to the convention center, one that overlooks the ocean.  It’s evening already, and the sea breeze brings with it cool air and salt.  You don’t have to look hard for Kevin in the lobby—you can hear his laughter from across the room, and it draws you to him like a magnet.  Even from this far away, as you navigate through the crowd that’s arrived for the preview night, it makes you smile.

He’s dressed sharply, but not overdone—a nice sweater with a button down’s collar peeking out from beneath, dark wash jeans that would barely pass for professional in stricter venues, and fancy boots you remember his sister getting him for Christmas.  He’s laughing with his roommate Jacob, who you recognize from countless pictures and snaps.

The room falls away as you fall into conversation with Kevin and Jacob.  You watch Kevin speak, watch his smile as he describes to you his own trip from his school to here.  He uses his hands to explain a scene, and you can’t help but laugh and smile back.  Then, Jacob starts to tell things from his perspective, and now it’s a back and forth with him, witty banter that makes it clear why he and Kevin became good friends.  As you talk, you’re glad Kevin had someone like Jacob to be his roommate—you couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he’d had someone horrible.

It isn’t until Jacob says something about it that you notice too—Kevin is missing.  Where did he go?  It couldn’t be for a performance, those were tomorrow.  Tonight was just a preview, a chance to see the convention hall and catch glimpses of the competition.  The bouquet of flowers you’d brought for Kevin, just like you did in high school, is missing from your hands, so he must have taken them at some point.

You and Jacob agree to split up—it would be faster this way, that way you could all go to dinner together before turning in for the night.  You’d gotten lucky enough to get a room at the neighboring hotel just like the others.  Your plan was just like the old days: trick Kevin into coming over and watching a movie.  You know he’d be stressing over the competition, over his recital piece, just like he did in high school.  You hoped a movie and laughter would help calm his nerves just like then, too.

You keep calling, even though he’s not picking up and it’s going straight to voicemail.  You’re starting to get worried, your actions becoming sharper and quicker.  The sun has set, casting the shoreline and the ocean in a deep midnight color that makes everything seem quiet.  The buzz of the lobby and main hall fades as you work your way down a different hall.  This one, it seems, is full of practice rooms, larger rooms partitioned into smaller ones, each with a piano.  The end of the hall is a large room labeled MUSIC ROOM, and you suppose it has pianos and more, maybe a staple of the convention hall already.

You’re about to turn around, text Jacob you still haven’t found him, when something on the floor catches your eye.  It’s tucked away in the shadows by the music room’s doors, barely lit by the hall lights or the moonlight from outside.  Your pulse quickens when you see it, concerned and relieved all at once.  A singular white daisy stares up at you from the navy-colored carpet, and you pick it up with tentative fingers.

The door slowly swings open when you press against it.  The lights are off inside, but the room is full of large windows that look out over the ocean.  The moonlight streams in, casting in long shadows around each instrument and chair in the space.  At the far end of the room, next to the windows, seated at a large black grand piano, is Kevin.  His hands rest against the keys, and it looks like he’s playing, but you can barely hear anything.  The flowers are on the bench, sitting beside him.

“Kevin?”  Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, and you move through the room towards him, careful not to hit anything on the way.

“Yeah?” comes the reply, but it’s worrying, because he sounds so, so tired and so, so unlike the Kevin you know.  He doesn’t look up from the piano, doesn’t look back at you, and you’ve never felt so alone with your best friend in the room.

When you reach him, you don’t know whether to sit or stand.  The flowers are taking up the rest of the room on the bench, and it feels wrong to move them, so you just place the stray daisy with them instead.  “Is something wrong?”

“What makes you say that?”  Kevin reaches, picks up the bouquet, and sets them on the other side of the bench.  You take this as an invitation to sit, and when you do, Kevin scoots away, causing the flowers to fall off the bench entirely.  You go to reach across Kevin, wanting to save the flowers, but the sharpness in his words stops you.  “No, don’t—don’t worry about them.  You should….”

You sit up, eyebrows knit in concern.  “I should?”

Kevin takes a deep breath, readjusts his hands on the keys but plays nothing.  “You should worry about me instead.”

Your hand shoots out to press against his forehead, feel for a temperature, but it recoils when you see Kevin flinch beneath your touch.  His expression is pinched, like he has a headache, but when he sighs, he just seems so very tired.  “What do you mean, be worried about you instead?  Are you ill?  Is it nerves?  I knew you’d be worried, that’s why I wanted to watch a movie with you that way you could relax before tomorrow.  Like we used to.”

Kevin shakes his head, as if dismissing all of your words.  “I don’t feel well, and it’s because of something that’s—”

“That’s what?”  you interrupt, eager for an answer.  You turn towards Kevin on the bench, scooting as close as you dare, afraid he’ll scoot further away again.  “Just tell me, Kevin.  You look bad, you sound bad.  I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you this tired.  I don’t know what to do, or if I can even help, and I won’t ever if you don’t tell me.  I want to help you.  Let me.”

Kevin turns to look at you, his hands still resting on the piano keys.  “That’s the thing, [Y/N], I don’t know if you can.”

“And why not?”

Another deep sigh, a slow blink of his eyes.  You watch him mull over which words to pick before he speaks, and when he does, it’s all at once.  “It’s because I have feelings for you, and I think you might feel the same way, but I don’t know what to do about it and it’s driving me absolutely insane.”

Silence.

And then, a click.  A switch flipped.  Suddenly, with his words and a crash from the incoming tide outside, it’s everything, absolutely everything at once.  The context of your memories has shifted, and they pour into your feelings with a sharp crystal gaze that’s almost unbearable.  Something you chose to ignore, because it could never happen—how could it ever happen?—starts to take root again, ready to grow into the empty places in your heart.

It’s how you feel shocks when his fingertips accidentally brush against yours, even with the most mundane of tasks.  How it hurt to see him pull away just now.  That he didn’t answer your calls after he just vanished, even though you’d promised each other to always be there.  It’s how he still isn’t looking at you, even after his confession.

It’s how he asks his question so quietly, you feel as if he didn’t say it at all.  That you just thought he did, that your heart was putting words where there really weren’t.  He leans in, as close as he dares.  “Can I kiss you?”

And, without thinking about your answer, but rather just knowing what it would be, you nod, leaning in the rest of the way.

The kiss is gentle and caring, just like him.  Nothing else touches but your lips, and he misses a little, kissing the corner of your lips rather than them as a whole.  You hear his hands slide off the keys, the one closest to you landing on the bench.  You want to reach out and hold it, but he’s already broken away and now the hand is gentle and caring at your chin, and his eyes are rich and warm even in the cool seaside moonlight.

Kevin’s voice is still quiet when he speaks, as if he’s afraid to say something too loud.  “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”

You blink, your anxious heart doing its best to process the words you’ve wanted to hear for so very long.  “Then... you should tell me about it.”

He pulls you in, this time not missing with his kiss.  It’s quick and sweet with determination behind it, an unsaid Okay, I will.  “I was in love with you when you came to my senior recital in high school with flowers, ones just like these, even though you had a major test the next morning.  And you stayed out with me when we celebrated and got waffles at midnight.  And you made sure I got home safe, but then I couldn’t just let you leave, because it was dark and after midnight.  So I made sure I got you home safe, and you were so tired you fell asleep on the front couch.”

Another kiss, this one soft and distinctly sweet mint.  “I was in love with you when you brought me that stuffed octopus that matched none of my college aesthetic, and Jacob kept teasing me about it, asking me if I was ever gonna ask you out because it was getting ridiculous.  And he was right.  I knew I wanted to, but I didn’t know how, or what to say, and you were so far away.”

You laugh, a small, shy one.  “It was just three hours, Kev—”

“It might as well have been 30 hours after having you 3 minutes from my house.”  His hand moves from your chin to cup the back of your head, fingers twinning into the hair behind your ear.  His thumb rests on the round of your cheek, tenderly moving back and forth, creating tingles that make you lean more into his hand, and it’s as if Kevin wants to cry when you do so.  “I was in love with you and I tried to date other people, but it didn’t work, because they weren’t you.  I knew it, even if I wanted to ignore it, because how could I feel something for someone who didn’t feel it back?  That’s for sad and sappy films and books.”

The two of you have turned towards each other entirely, more parallel to the piano than you were initially to each other.  You reach to grab hold of Kevin’s free hand, the one resting against his lap, and he quickly intertwines his fingers with your own, and you feel your heart jump at the heat his palm provides.

“I was in love with you when you asked me if you could go on dates with my friends, even if I tried to deny it and thought it would help me get over you.  I thought I was just a friend, and that I was just doing best friend things.”  He closes his eyes, shakes his head.  His voice goes soft.  “But best friends don’t make sure the other doesn’t hit their head against the corner of the table when they drop their napkin at a restaurant.  Best friends don’t always buy the thing that makes them think of their friend.  Best friends don’t want to monopolize the other’s time because it gets too hard to see them with other people, even if nothing’s really happening.”  He sighs, opens his eyes, looks back up at you.  “They don’t get so jealous it hurts and they feel sick and have to sit on the bathroom floor in a convention center under the sink for a while just to calm down enough to breathe again.”

“Is that where you disappeared to?”

“Yeah.  Because, and I realized this then—it’s not what best friends do.  It’s—it’s—”

The words fall past your lips, tumbling yet tentative as the hope you’d so often ignored grows stronger with each beat of your heart.  “What lovers do?”

There’s a flash of a grin, of the confident Kevin you’d grown to love and adore in equal, overpowering measure.  “Something like that.”

And now it’s both hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you close, fingers digging into the strands of hair at the nape of your neck.  It’s the clean scent of his shampoo, the warmth of his cologne, how his sweater feels against your own fingers as they take hold into the fabric and pull him closer.  The gasp when he moves to kiss against the slope of your jawline, like fine needlework without a single stitch out of place.  He kisses the soft corner of your jaw, right where the bone ends and you can find your pulse.  It’s kisses down your neck, following that pulse, and you’re sure if it weren’t for your own sweater, there’d be kisses planted against the lines of your collarbones, and the soft spot between them, as well.

Kevin’s flushed, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and down his neck into his own collar, and you’re sure you look the same way.  He’s holding you, gazing at you, like you’re the most precious thing in the world.  And, perhaps, to him, you are.  “Are you mad at me?”

You laugh at the audacity hidden in that question.  You lean forward, placing a happy kiss at the corner of his lips.  “And why would I be that?”

Kevin laughs, too, breaking the stupor those kisses had placed upon you two and falling back into routine.  But, you notice, it feels different.  One of his hands goes back to hold yours, fingers interlaced, thumb rubbing gentle and random patterns against the top of your hand.  The other hand reaches out, resting against your hip, acting like an anchor.  “Because I took so long to stop being so stupid.”

You place your hand against his cheek, and your heart bursts with how happy Kevin looks sinking into your touch, how at peace his expression becomes.  When his eyes open, they’re lidded, tired with giddiness, with no worries for the competition or what the next day may bring.  Just content in finally being yours.  “Couldn’t you argue I was just as stupid?”

Kevin smiles, his grin lopsided and happy.  “Yeah, you could.”  He leans forward and kisses you again, back to being gentle and caring, but there’s still something more to this one.  “Something like that.”

#kwritersworld #kdiarynet #ficscafe #deobiwritersnet #kevin fic #tbz fic #tbz #the boyz #kevin #prose #all

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - June 5

Happy Sunday!! Here’s what I read this week. Be sure to leave your author a comment or kudos if you enjoy a story! 

***Marks my recent favorites 

~*~ 

Hidden Facets by Sineala

The weirdest consequence of Tony's unexpected telepathy is not the fact that he now knows Steve has secret gay fantasies. It's not even the fact that Tony has a starring role in them. That's absolutely fine. Better than fine, even. But what Tony can't figure out is why all of Steve's secret gay fantasies about him are so goddamn sad.

Take Me Home by iam93percentstardust, Sagana_Rojana_Olt

Bucky thinks he and Steve have found a meal. He's wrong - they've found a mate.

Sore Winner by Captain_Panda

You ever meet a couple who does puzzles together?

That's Steve and Tony. Except they're not a couple.

They just keep meeting in the middle, because Tony's competitive streak and Steve's midnight boredom both yearn for satiation.

Also, Tony Stark refuses to lose.

****Today Was a Fairytale by iam93percentstardust

Today was a fairytale

You've got a smile that takes me to another planet

Every move you make everything you say is right

Today was a fairytale

~

Steve gives Tony daisies.

And it’s… nice.

Tony’s suitors send him roses and exotic orchids and genetically modified blossoms that bloom in impossible colors no one could ever hope to find in nature. His mother makes sure there’s always a fresh bouquet of irises in his room—they usually come from her own garden, but he still doesn’t know how she manages to find them even in the middle of winter.

And Steve… Steve gives him daisies.

When I Think (Oh, it Terrifies Me) by celli

Look, some mornings you wake up and little green men are invading New York City; some mornings you wake up and you can hear Captain America's voice in your head. Tony has been an Avenger long enough that he saves his freakout for important things.

The Sound Silence Makes by ladyshadowdrake

“We need exactly what we don’t have,” Tony observed, annoyed and tired. He started to giggle and couldn’t stop himself. “Power.”

He cast a glance back at the door, sealed shut behind him, and he didn’t foresee the cavalry charging through anytime soon with a generator and a bomb kit. Tony took a deep breath and asked, “How much reserve power does the suit have, J?”

“The suit is currently running on the arc reactor, sir. You have approximately one hour of power remaining before the reactor reaches critical levels.”

Devil with an Easy Grin by ladyshadowdrake

Steve meets a charismatic stranger at a club for a one night stand, and expects to never see him again.

Breaking Tony by AvocadoLove

In a world where everyone is born beta, leaders chosen by newly founded packs become alpha. Omegas are not born or made, they are broken.

Steve wants Tony to become the Avenger's omega.

familiar, unbidden by ohjustpeachy

Tony was a great friend, and an even better teammate, once they got past the ugliness of their first few weeks together. He didn’t want to mess it up. He didn’t want to fall for the first person who was kind to him, who looked at him like a person rather than a medical marvel or a tactical miracle, in his whole long life. How pathetic would that be? 

Or, after a near-kiss with Tony, Steve takes off on a cross-country road trip in the hopes of making peace with his past and his present.

Failed Step One by SoldiersShield, zappedbysnow

So no, the real problem is not that Steve Rogers is the love of Tony's life and he never had the chance to tell him; the problem is that he’s the love of his life and he has no idea how to tell him. Regardless of his aversion to both shellfish and overused metaphors, the world is Tony's oyster now. He’s got one shot at this, and under no circumstances can he screw it up.

So, naturally, he screws it up in a way that only Tony Stark could be capable of.

(Or: Tony accidentally proposes before they're dating, because the man's a god damn mess.)

Written for the SteveTony Better Together Zine!

Jink by FestiveFerret

When Steve agrees to dog sit for Colonel Rhodes, he doesn't expect Rhodes' unusual, intriguing, and painfully attractive whirlwind of a best friend to show up unannounced.

Growth Spurt by FestiveFerret

Tony: Remember that guy I had the hots for in high school that I was telling you about?

Rhodey: The Steve guy? Yeah.

Tony: He's here.

Rhodey: Oh shit.

Tony: He grew a beard.

Rhodey: ...

Rhodey: You're fucked.

Tony: IKR.

The Problem With Communication by itsallAvengers

Steve is terrible at flirting, but when he finally picks up the courage to talk to the adorable barista who makes his drinks, he finds himself hitting a small snag:

That being, Tony is deaf. He doesn't know what Steve is saying.

But never say Steve Rogers does not rise to a challenge.

***Dangerous Kitchen Tools by ladyshadowdrake

Engineering prodigy, billionaire, and heir to the Stark Industries empire, Tony Stark turned the business world on its head by opening a restuarant and burying himself in the kitchen. Years later, he covers an informal evening cooking class for his friend and fellow molecular gastronomist, Bruce Banner, where he meets famously camera-shy comic artist Steve Rogers.

***Early Morning Calls by Tahlruil

There's nothing quite like getting yanked out of a dead sleep by a phone call, especially when you don't even know the person on the other end. But when you're as used to crazy as Steve, staying on the line doesn't seem like a bad idea at all.

And I'd Buy A Big House Where We Both Could Live by shinkonokokoro

Missing: Tony Stark, billionaire businessman, heir to Stark Industries, reward: none

Only Steve didn't know that when he picked up the waterlogged unconscious man from the bank of a river.

Survival by missbecky

Usually it's just an academic question: how far would you go to survive in hell? Two years as a prisoner in Jotunheim, and Tony Stark knows exactly what it takes to stay alive. Even if it costs him his humanity.

Out of Many Waters by Arukou 

A freak accident sends Tony and Steve hurtling onto an alien planet. They've only each other for survival, and both have an unfortunate tendency towards monumentally stupid self-sacrifice.

In a Land of Shadow by Bragi151, LePeru (Nizah)

Steve Rogers has woken up in a post apocalyptic Earth with no memory of how he got there. Guided by the ghost of Tony Stark, Steve finds his way through the wasteland to try and fix his world, or at least stop other worlds from meeting a similar fate. At least, that's who he thinks is guiding him and what he thinks he's doing. Steve isn't quite sure himself. See End Notes for Warnings.

Secrets of a Successful Marriage by valtyr

Tony Stark lives a double life; he's secretly the supervillain known as Iron Man. But his loving husband Steve has a few secrets of his own, as Tony is about to discover.

you don't need me (but you won't leave me) by brandnewfashion

It was a gradual thing.

There was no shock of lightning, no epiphany or choir of angels.

There was no particular moment where Tony was struck with the realization that he was in love with Steve Rogers.

Apparently Only One Meal From Barbarism by valtyr

The Savage Land: "All kinds of mutates and dinosaurs and big cheetahs and a surprising amount of acceptable nudity." - Spider-Man

The Highest Form of Friendship by ChibiSquirt

“Imagine if I’d met you back in my hellion days,” Tony says, and Steve groans out loud.

There’s a mental image, here. Well, Steve’s a visual kind of guy; mental images are how he operates.

 The mental image is of a baby Tony - okay, not baby; Heyday Tony, let’s call him - and Heyday Tony has dark eyes and a wide mouth, and the little pin-scratch frown that Nowadays Tony wears all the time these days has been magically retrotransformed into a confident smirk. Heyday Tony has the same lean strength that Nowadays Tony has, but he looks taller because he bears himself more aggressively, more straight-backed. Heyday Tony has poofy hair and a tendency to look all the way down, and all the way back up, at a person - regardless of gender - before meeting their eyes.

Steve knows: he’s seen the videos.

Has maybe studied the videos. Has maybe spent more time on that activity than strictly appropriate...

“Can we not?” he pleads. “It didn’t happen that way, and it did happen this way, and that’s how it is.”

With a Child's Heart by Scarlet_Ribbons

“Oh, god.” Steve whispers, sounding as horrified as Tony feels. “You’re so young. Tony, he’s so young.”

 Spider-Man coughs once, a frail, baby-bird sound.

 The (Not Really) Secret Origins of Movie Night by nightwalker

Somewhere along the line the Avengers have become a pretty good team. But Tony's still the odd man out, and Steve's determined to change that.

we should just kiss like real people do by theappleppielifestyle

Hoodie-guy stops in front of Steve just as he snaps, “FINE, I want to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane, could we drop it now?”

“UM,” Sam says, loud enough that they both turn to look at him. He’s wide-eyed as he jerks his head meaningfully, gestures getting looser and more pointed as they continue not to get it.

Steve stares at him. This is why Sam is never picked for a partner when they all play Charades.

There’s a tap on his shoulder, and Steve turns to see Hoodie-guy smiling. Steve opens his mouth to say do you need something when he realizes why the man’s face is so familiar.

“Hi,” says Tony Stark.

Steve blurts the first thing he thinks. “Fuck.”

Visible At last by AvocadoLove

Based in a world where everyone has a soulmate's name written on their arm -- but not visible to the world until they touch.

1-900-SOULMATE by SailorChibi

Later, Tony would maintain that it wasn’t his fault. He was drunk and bored (lonely) and it just… happened.

Pepper would look at him and, in the driest tone that Tony had ever heard, remark that he was the only person in the history of the world who would stumble across their soulmate while drunk dialing a phone sex line.

Deep in the Heart of Me by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

Veteran single dad Steve runs a tattoo shop. Pepper arranges for Tony to get that tattoo he always wanted, and he winds up with the mother of all crushes instead. Jumping out of airplanes is one thing, but love requires real courage. Steve struggles with letting someone into his life. Tony tries to keep his heart intact while Steve works on his issues.

Craving a realistic depiction of a romantic relationship featuring PTSD, mental health issues, and characters who discuss their problems? This might be for you. No magic fixes here but a happy ending is guaranteed!

#stevetony weekly #stevetony #stevetony fic rec #rec list #stony #stony recs #fic recs #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain america

[chaolie]

FWT Week 2022, Day 3 - Sneaking Out

Sorry if this feels a bit rushed, but the last thing I posted took me a while and I had to quickly finish this one for today... I'm still not behind, though! So here's another thing for @fwt-week's FWT week! Also available on my Ao3!

This fic takes place after [this one] and is continued [here]

Characters: Fundy, Dream, (briefly) Tommy, (briefly) Wilbur Words: 1.7k Summary: Fundy sneaks out of L'Manburg to what might or might not be a date with Dream. He turns out to be horrendous at sneaking out.

Fundy paused briefly while he looked at his coat hanging off the side of his bed. He got a decent amount of the mud off of it, but there was still an earthy shade to it that he doubted would ever leave. That was… expected, but still unfortunate for two main reasons. One, sooner or later his father would realize. Two, if things were to go horribly wrong with Dream… well, it’d be much harder to forget about him.

Now that he had a few hours to himself and thought everything over, he was aware of a whole bunch of things that could go horribly wrong, too. After going over the events of the previous night a fair few times, he reached a few conclusions, but… they were far from helpful.

He liked Dream a lot. Well, no, not exactly, he just thought the man was really handsome and found him charming when he wasn’t actively trying to murder him! That was all! And that was not the same as actually liking Dream. Not far from it, but… It was different. It had to be.

In spite of that, his mind kept going back to his “attempt at making his own decisions”, to suggesting they “make their meeting a date”. To that, and to Dream not saying no. More than that, to him saying “Sure” and then, after realizing what he agreed to, not trying to go back on it. 

…Did that mean it was a date?

Well, there was one way to find out. The sun was already low but no one was keeping the night watch yet, so if he wanted to sneak out, it was now or never. With a sigh, he scanned his room for anything he could need and, after finding nothing, he quietly left. He didn’t head for the gate straight away, though.

If this was a date, he’d hate to turn up empty-handed, and while he had little he could offer, he did spot a few nice flowers growing by the van earlier that day. That was where he headed first, crouching by its rear end and examining the plants before carefully picking a few daisies and putting them together into a small bouquet. It didn’t look perfect, but good enough… and besides, it was dark, so maybe Dream would be kind enough to just assume they looked nice. 

With that little gift finally ready, he headed for the gates and quietly snuck outside. As soon as he was on the other side of the wall, no more light from L’Manburg reached him, and everything grew dark. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust before carefully starting to walk over to the forest. If he moved slowly and smoothly, no one would notice him-

“Hey!” came a loud voice from the top of the wall, and he stopped in his tracks. “Who’s there?!”

He turned around and sure enough, there was someone on top of the wall, aiming a bow in his general direction. Tommy, if he had to judge by the voice alone, and with his eyes not entirely adjusted yet, he had no other clues. Well. He now had two choices in front of him. He could sneakily throw away the flowers and go back inside, claim he just came back from a walk or… something, or he could-

“Oi, I will shoot!” the person on the wall yelled, and yeah, it had to be Tommy.

Fundy decided to go for his 2nd option.

Silently, he turned around and bolted into the forest, clutching the flowers close to him. After a moment of what he assumed was stunned shock, Tommy fired a single shot in his general direction, missing miserably because his aim was even worse in the dark. That meant Fundy’s road was clear, and he could just-

“Wil! There’s somebody outside!”

Aaand there went his brilliant plan. He knew well how his father was, and he was certain he could expect an entire search party to be outside within a few minutes. Luckily, he was rarely invited to those, they were included in the “too dangerous for my son to take part in” list of activities, so they probably wouldn’t notice him being gone.

Now he just needed to find Dream before they’d find either of them!

…Or before Dream spotted the others and assumed this was a trap. Which would be horrible. With that thought, he sped up and tried to gain as much distance as possible. They didn’t agree on a spot, not really, but he assumed he could find the man somewhere close to where they last met, it would make sense-

The next thing he knew, he had already crashed into something. Someone. Someone who fell back with a groan, so not a monster, but… was that better?

“...Wha-”

“Dream!” he exclaimed, pushing himself up as soon as the familiar voice rang in his ears.

What a great start to this possibly-a-date. Tackling Dream to the ground.

“Sorry! I’m running because someone spotted me and now they’re probably starting a search and, uh-” he paused, suddenly realizing that just because he pushed himself up didn’t mean he got off of Dream. Thankful for the darkness hiding the shade of his face, he scrambled away. “I am so sorry… I’m, uh, here…?”

He held the flowers out for Dream while the man sat up. Yeah, this was probably… a bit too much to cram into the first 10 seconds of their meeting, Fundy supposed when the man spent the next 20 of them in stunned silence. Just then, when he finally seemed ready to say something, someone else beat him to it.

“Are you sure they went this way?”

Fundy’s heart sank a bit at the sound of his father’s voice.

“...That’s what I meant by search-” he tried to whisper, but when Dream nodded, he didn’t bother saying anything else.

“Okay, let’s- that first,” Dream whispered back, getting onto his feet and waiting for Fundy to do the same.

Crouching slightly, Fundy turned to look in the direction of the voice and saw torch light not far from where he heard it. They were close- He looked back to Dream just in time to see him throw something into the air. Well, chuck was probably the better word, the tiny item absolutely went flying.

Then, Dream let out a loud whistle.

“Wait, what ar-?” Fundy tried to ask him in a hushed tone, but before he finished the question, Dream grabbed his forearm and seconds later, there was a sudden sting in his chest. “Ow!” he hissed, bending over slightly and finding himself losing his balance.

“Are you okay?” Dream asked, using his second hand to help him stay steady. For some reason, he didn’t bother keeping his voice quiet anymore.

“Yeah, I- What was that?” Fundy asked, straightening himself again. With a slight, admittedly-very-cute smile, Dream pointed to something hanging at his side.

“Ender Pearls,” he explained. “I figured we could use them, and now they’re busy looking over there,” he added, gesturing vaguely in the direction of a very faint light with his free hand. The other one was still holding onto Fundy’s arm.

“Oh. That’s smart,” Fundy nodded, and found himself relaxing.

“Thank you,” Dream beamed. “We can walk the rest of the way, though. There’s a nice spot close to here, secluded enough to hide in, and I already left the swords there,” he explained. Taking Fundy’s second nod as agreement, he started to lead them through the forest.

He was still holding Fundy’s forearm. Was that a sign? A little hint as to what this meeting was? Or even a question asking the same thing?

Well. Being the one who suggested it in the first place, Fundy felt obliged to answer that. He shook his hand slightly and Dream’s grip loosened, letting him slide his arm out easily. Instead of following through with that, he took Dream’s hand into his. As soon as he did, the man turned to look at him with a slightly surprised expression.

“...I got you flowers?” Fundy said, holding out the daisies again. His little escape did not do them any good, but they still looked decent. “They were less… like that when I got them,” he added just in case Dream wouldn’t assume that.

The man stopped, and Fundy started to wonder if he took a lot of things the wrong way.

“...Thank you, Fundy,” Dream smiled after a slight pause, carefully taking the bouquet from his hand and smelling the flowers. He kept them close to his face for quite a moment, and Fundy could swear he spotted a blush on his face somewhere between the daisies. “...So, that date. Is that… happening?” he asked.

Fundy was prepared to hear that question in an annoyed, confused, or even an upset tone. What he heard sounded hopeful instead, and it took all his might to not jump into eager confirmations and force himself to use the response he practiced in front of a mirror for 5 minutes instead.

“...Do you want it to be?” he asked. “Because I’m… up for that. And I know this is fast, but… Why… not, right?” he added after a moment, and Dream nodded. He finally lowered the flowers and sure enough, his face was red.

“Yeah, that’s… true. I… think I want it to be that,” he agreed, and the smile on his face was brighter than Fundy remembered the sun itself ever being.

“Alright, it’s a date then!” he exclaimed with a grin of his own quickly forming on his face, and Dream laughed quietly. After a moment, the man tugged lightly at his hand.

“Come on, we have some very romantic sword fighting to get out of the way,” he reminded him, and Fundy nodded eagerly.

This was absolutely worth sneaking out for, he thought.

That thought was reinforced when it turned out Dream wasn’t lying about the sword fighting being romantic. Just the man showing him how to hold the weapon correctly while conveniently keeping his arms around him at almost all times was enough to melt him, and by the time they got to their first little spar?

Well. Fundy should certainly sneak out more often.

#fwtweek2022 #fundywastaken #fwt #fundy #c!fundy #dream #c!dream #my writing

[opalimagines]

Request: You said you love soft stuff too, so I have this soft idea with Shade + flower language: Shade gives a flower bouquet to reader but reader has almost no knowledge of flower language and Shade quickly realizes that, so he explains the meanings and reader is hit with a heartwarming realization that the bouquet is in a way a love letter. But if this request is a bit too much, anything with Shade + flower language would be wonderful 🥺💖

Requested by anonymous

Reader: Neutral

What had started out as a fling of sorts between you and Richard eventually turned into something else entirely. Hook ups in hidden corners became whole nights and mornings spent together, as well as actual dates. You weren't quite sure how it all happened, but you didn't want to question it. This thing that the two of you shared made you happier than you ever thought it could.

And if you weren't delighted enough when Richard arrived at your apartment that afternoon, the bouquet that he offered to you made you beam even brighter. "Oh wow, these are beautiful!" Taking the flowers from his hand, you paused a moment to enjoy their scent. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my darling." A smile played at his lips, and he couldn't help the thought that true beauty laid not in the flowers, but in the one that held them. An overly sweet observation, yes, but that made it no less true.

"Let me find a vase for these." You turned and Richard followed you to your kitchen, watching as you knelt down and looked in one of your cabinets.

As you prepared the water and carefully placed the bouquet inside of the vase you chose, Richard was reminded of the several other arrangements he'd presented to you. Though you seemed to hold the same affection for him that he did for you, you never responded in the way that he expected. In that moment, it dawned on him.

It had been so very long since he last courted someone that he never considered the fact that you might not have seen the message he meant to convey. How could you respond if you weren't even aware there was anything to respond to?

"Are you familiar with the language of flowers?" He asked, coming to stand next to you as you adjusted the blooms that had been disturbed.

"I've heard of it, but that's about it."

"Well, when I was a young man, it was considered improper to speak certain thoughts and feelings aloud. The popular alternative was using flowers and their specific meanings to make those feelings known. I suppose it's unnecessary now, but there's still a certain charm to it."

Suddenly, you found yourself very curious when you recalled the flowers he'd given to you in the past, in addition to the ones that sat in front of you at the moment. "So, what do these ones mean?"

"Ah, let's see..." Richard reached out to show you each flower as he explained. "The daisies are for affection and admiration...Violets, faithfulness...Camellia, desire...Lilies, devotion. And," he said, pointing out one of the bright red roses, "I'm sure you know what these mean."

Your heart skipped, and you whispered a soft "Love..." You had to smile at all of the meanings and the fact that he'd been saying these things for a while. If only you had seen it sooner.

Richard took your hand and smiled in return. "Love, yes."

Looking down at your hands then back at him, you knew exactly what you felt. "I don't know how people responded back then--Probably with more flowers--but nowadays, we just say: I love you, too."

As soon as the words left your lips, you laid your hand on his cheek and gave him a sweet kiss that only reinforced the sincerity in your confession, and you could feel his too. Without a doubt, your attraction had become something so much sweeter.

#richard swift imagine #richard swift x reader #dc x reader #dc comics imagine #dc imagine #stargirl x reader #stargirl imagine #my fics**