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polarisjisung · 2 months

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HOW DREAMIES ASK YOU TO BE THEIR VALENTINE

pairings: nct dream x fem! reader

genre: fluff (established relationship in all except haechan's)

wc: 4k (it was meant to be shorter...)

warnings: one swear word (literally one I promise), mentions of shitty work environments but nothing in detail, not proof read, reader is implied to be shorter than jisung, use of pet names

notes: HAPPY V DAY 🥰🥰

MARK - candle light dinner at home

Mark's job is his passion and his best form of expression has always been through music— most special occasions, like the day he'd asked you to become official or your birthday, Mark would write and compose a song especially for you— this time Mark wants to switch it up. He felt like it was almost too predictable for him to plug a pair of headphones in your ears and serenade you, he didn't want that. Mark believes in making each and every moment together special, and asking you to be his valentine deserved a little extra attention.

It's a known fact that Mark isn't to be trusted in the kitchen, it just isn't his forte, which is why you're usually the one cooking and he'd do the dishes.

Tonight he decides you deserve something special, it's a couple weeks before the 14th, and since the new years he's been taking some extra special training from jaemin on cooking up some of your favourite dishes. At first things started out palatable at best, but now, even jaemin could argue that they were delicious— that was the thing about Mark, nothing could beat his dedication and man was he dedicated to expressing his love for you.

You finish work late tonight and you're already planning on what take out to order once you get home, like you usually would, admittedly you don't actually like take out all that much, which is why Mark is all the more eager to see your reaction to his efforts.

The second he receives the text that you're on the way home, Mark is running across the kitchen and setting up the table, a romantic setting with a home cooked candle light dinner, something you were sure to like. Hes grinning from ear to ear as you step through the door, enveloping you in a bone crushing hug the second he lays his eyes on you.

"there's my pretty girl"

"here I am" you smile, kissing his cheek, mark can't shake the feeling that you seem a little down.

You seem tired, Mark assumes it was a hard day at work, and suddenly he feels the need to make sure everything is extra perfect.

There's some rose petals scattered along your dining table, pretty pink cocktails with a little edible glitter sprinkled along the top laid on each end of the table next to a beautifully plated serving of your favourite foods. Of course there's a small hand written note placed by your plate, a love letter with Mark's best fancy hand writing, lettering the words will you be my valentine across the envelope.

Mark waits for you patiently by the stairs, you were usually pretty fast at getting unready but Mark felt as though he was waiting for hours— though he didn't mind all that much waiting for you.

"It smells really good babe, I'm starved" you say when you see him leant against the bannister of your stairs

"let's not keep you waiting then hmm?" he smiles wide as ever, grabbing your hand and escorting you the table, it's not unusual for Mark to pull out your chair as you sit down, but you can't help but gawk at the spread in front of you, tears welling in your eyes

"you made all of this mark?"

he nods, proud of himself, though he's a little hesitant seeing the watering of your eyes

"you don't like it?" he wishes he didn't ask the question, watching you burst into tears at the confirmation

"I love it of course i do," you wipe the tears, feeling mark let his arms hang around your waist from behind you, "I just, today was hard and this, means so much to me"

Mark smiles, he realises you haven't noticed the pink and red envelope by your side, and he knows that you're feeling guilty about the tears— as much as he believes in talking through your emotions, Mark realises that's just not what you want right now and so he quietly presses a kiss to your cheek, wiping his thumb past where the tears had rolled down, and places the envelope between your fingers.

Had you not stopped yourself, you think you'd cry again.

"I love you" you whisper, voice cracking as you do, "of course I'll be your valentine" and that night, you swear you fell in love with Mark lee all over again.

RENJUN - going above and beyond

Renjun regularly buys you flowers, and each time there's an absolutely unbeatable look on your face, whether it's an intricate bouquet or a simpler bunch of tulips, he swears the smile on your face gives him reason to live, every single time. You're his muse, his biggest inspiration and to him a DIY valentines proposal only seemed right.

Thanks to your chronically online tendencies, you'd been fawning over those glitter rose bouquets to him all week, unintentionally for the most part, but considering the bouquet he'd last given you was slowly withering away in the vase you kept them in, renjun found himself scrolling through multiple tutorials, and ultimately, covered in glitter from head to toe the following week.

For anything concerning you, renjun likes to go above and beyond, he was a simple man for the most part but for you, simplicity just wasn't a feasible option in his mind.

He spends the whole month planning the perfect valentines proposal, and just to make sure that the seed of insecurity can't sprout itself in your mind, Renjun makes sure to ask you to be his valentine a month in advance.

It's a weekly date night like usual except its all the more extravagant. Renjun had made a reservation at a fancy riverside restaurant and chosen out the most perfect outfits for the both of you, it was no doubt he had a good eye, undeniably you also happen to look drop dead gorgeous in the simplest of clothes.

He knows he can't push you against the wall and smash his lips against yours, given the oppurtunity he absolutely would but considering the setting, he opts for expressing his thoughts to you instead

"you look perfect" there's a soft blush that creeps up on your face as the waitress guides the two of you to your table— you don't fail to take notice of how empty the restaurant seems

"renjun? you booked out the whole restaurant?" he nods, a sheepish smile lining his lips, he knew you didn't always like that he spent so much on you, but to renjun it was worth it, and this time you don't dispute it with anything more than an eye roll. He made you feel nothing short of a princess.

Renjun pops the question with full confidence, his hands tugging tugging at your fingers from across the table— the bouquet he'd made for you sitting across from you in a vase that looked oh so similar to your favourite, now shattered one

"Be my valentine?"

You'd been dating for years, of course you'd say yes, but it made your heart flutter every time, knowing he had made the effort to ask

"forever and always jun, you're stuck with me"

He'd have it no other way.

JENO - sweet and simple

Jeno loves you more than words can describe and really he doesn't think he can put it into words even if he tried. He already does so much for you on a day to day that even he struggled to find ways to go above and beyond when it comes to birthdays or valentines. He asks you about 3 weeks in advance, not too early but not too late, the perfect timing. It's a simple moment but it's special, jeno makes it special.

You'd been living together for a while, and jeno figured the perfect way to surprise you would be after a night out with your girls, since you refused to be home any later than midnight, saying you needed your beauty sleep. He wishes he'd gotten a balloon pump given the amount of pink red and white heart shaped latex balloons he'd blown up in the past two hours, but he knows your reaction will be worth it.

You knock against the front door, slightly tipsy, but nothing too major, eyes scanning over jeno who for some reason still seems to be in his dress shirt and trousers from work. He couldn't tell you he got to work straight away after getting home, wanting everything to be perfect meant he had no time to waste.

"there's my handsome boyfriend" you swing your arms over his neck and jeno let's a nervous chuckle escape, you barely notice the tension in his laugh as he helps you inside.

"did you have fun doll?" you nod against his chest, and jeno's eyes crinkle into a small smile

he's already taking your shoes off, knowing that kicking your heels off after getting home was an absolute must for you, you don't pay any mind to his actions, he always did this. Instead you're pressing a quick kiss to his cheek

"thank you" you'd say, or at least try to before jeno has you in his arms carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom, bridal style— now this, this was certainly new

"jeno put me down" your giggles resound through the house but jeno doesn't let up, smiling down at you in his arms

"I've got legs nono and they work just fine" he shrugs at your words

"yeah and your boyfriend has arms that work just fine too, don't have these arms for anyone but you doll"

safe to say you're a blushing mess until jeno finally places you down outside your shared bedroom door, letting you open the door yourself

A gasp escapes your lips at the sight of the large bouquet of flowers sitting on the bedside table, one practically the size of your head, maybe even bigger, filled with red roses, and a card alongside. There's a million balloons bumping against your feet and a small banner with jeno's handwriting reading "will you my valentine?" resting on your queen sized bed— jeno notices how your smile reaches your eyes

"so doll, be my valentine?"

"only since you asked so nicely" you say, and jenos lifting you up again, pressing a kiss to your lips

"think you just made me the happiest man alive"

HAECHAN - a heartfelt confession

You'd always been his sunflower, when things were tough you were there to help him through it all, his beacon of happiness and all things good in life. But haechan had never quite explicitly let you in on those feelings of his, you were supposed to be just best friends, recently that didn't seem enough for haechan.

He'd always had confidence, and despite the little slither of insecurity that lingers in the pit of his stomach at the possibility of rejection, he makes every effort to make the moment perfect, for you.

It was often your hangouts would take on a more date like form, this time however haechan had made the conscious effort of making this as close to a date as possible. He'd practically begged you to wear that beautiful baby blue sundress he bought for you for your birthday, and claimed the rest of it would be a surprise— placing a blindfold over your eyes.

It's only 5am, far too early in your opinion, to even be awake on a Saturday, something you groaned about just a little as you were warily following the pull of haechans hand.

"Hyuck are you kidnapping me?" you asked, only hearing haechan's laughter echo in your ear a little while after, you take it as a no and continue walking, the texture of the ground beneath you becoming softer and almost slightly wet, you can't help but let your curiosity grow.

"I could be in bed right now hyuck, pretty please can you tell me what we're doing?"

had it not been for the blindfold, you'd see the way his eyes roll and his nervous smile grew into an amused one

"you could be in bed any day sunshine, trust me this is a once in a life time thing" he hoped, in reality haechan had been convincing himself that rejection just wasn't an option, there was no way you didn't feel whatever spark this was between the two of you the same way he did.

Your scream cuts his thoughts out, and yet again, he smiles at the sight of you, hair flowing slightly in the breeze, your lip stuck between your teeth

"hyuck there's something on my leg— are you sure you're not kidnapping me? It's okay if you are just let me know so I can put up a fi—"

you don't expect to find yourself in a sunflower field, when haechan finally removes your blindfold.

There was no way the lee haechan would confess to you, quite frankly the love of his life, without serenading you. So there he is perched up on a chair that he'd set up before picking you up, strumming away at a guitar as he sings your favourite song.

"Sunshine will you be my valentine?"

You freeze when you see him stood in front of you, that angelic face of his only inches from yours— you nod.

"You know I love you right" this time, despite all the times he had posed the same question, you realise that the I love you means a lot more than usual

JAEMIN- spur of the moment (sort of)

Jaemin is the best boyfriend you could ask for and more, something he wants to continue to live up to, but considering he's set the standard so high, jaemin struggles sometimes.

He realises that not everything needs to be hugely extravagant and that as long as you liked it, jaemin did too.

That doesn't stop him from scrolling through Pinterest and tiktok for ideas, all of which he's already done in the last few years or thinks just aren't good enough. He settles on going to the store to grab some valentines essentials before making his mind up. That's where the teddy bear catches his eye, a practically 6 foot tall Teddy bare reading the words will you be my valentine in red cursive that had his heart beating out of his chest, it was just so cute, jaemin and to buy it.

The idea finally dawns upon him when he's finding a way to fit everything into the back of his car, those stubborn helium balloons trying to fly out, forcing him to hold them down with the two chocolate boxes he'd bought, with the fluffy brown Teddy bear at the centre. A little adjustment here and there, and if jaemin did say so himself, it looked beautiful, some finishing touches and it'd be perfect.

Everyday, jaemin picks you up from work, despite the fact that you have your own car, jaemin makes it a point to both drop you off and pick you up from work with perfect timing, you don't know how he does it really. But jaemin always manages to bring you your favourite coffee and pastry when you're feeling down, or always has painkillers in hand for the days you work longer hours, knowing you'll feel a headache coming on the second you walk through the doors of your office building. He picks you up with a smile every day, and, as always, exactly what you need.

Tonight after a failed business idea proposal and a heck of a lot of judgemental glares from the specific work colleagues of yours who didn't seem to like you, with no actual reason, you don't know how jaemin's going to manage it lift your mood, all you know is that he will.

"hi pretty" he flashes you a sweet smile, as he steps out of the car to take your bags from you

"hi jaem" you smile at him, he recognises its nowhere near as full and bright as usual and you're thankful he doesn't push on the topic

"I'll just put these on the backseat, do you think you can just grab a bottle of water from the back?" you nod at his request, reaching out to lift the trunk

Jaemin somehow manages to prove himself every time, it was like he bad a 6th sense, solely for you.

The soft glow of the fake candles jaemin had bought to set the scene lights up your face as he turns to sneak a look at your reaction. You swear you've never seen the back of his car so packed, full of your favourite things, makeup essentials, snacks, flowers and the most adorable fluffy brown bear. You barely take into account half of it, mind blurred with the sheer admiration you had for jaemin.

Like always he made your heart flutter, being his valentine only made your heart swell further.

"what's wrong?" he notices the way your eyes brim with tears, holding your cheeks between his palms, you don't waste a second to pull him close, placing your head against his chest.

"nothing, everything's perfect"

"so?" he raises his brow at the teddy bear before looking back at you

"of course I'll be your valentine nana"

CHENLE - kind of cheesy but crazy cute

Extravagant and over the top may as well be his middle name, chenle was a firm believer in go big or go home. When it came to you it seemed all the lavishes were multiplied ten fold.

Chenle asks you at his pool party just at the end of January. Who even has a pool party in January? well chenle does, he claimed it was to celebrate the longest month of the year finally passing, really it was just an excuse to get everyone together again.

And chenle loves to show you off, but he appreciates those one on one intimate moments with you especially. He knows not to ask when the party is in full swing, though he does steal you away for a few kisses. It's only when the party dies down and its just the two of you left behind that he drags you to the other end of his garden, to show you something.

"What is it you want to show me lele?" you ask, not noticing the candles spread across the area in front of you, chenle had placed them all there in an attempt to set the scene just a little.

There's still some music playing in the background, now a softer slower song echoing through the area, chenle let's his hand slip into yours

"may I have this dance m'lady?"

it was rare chenle was every this chessily cute, a red flush spreading across your features as you smile, nodding

You swear when your eyes lock that you've never been luckier, dancing in your damp swimsuit cover up with him as the soft breeze blows by you, his own eyes gazing down into yours so gentle.

"would you be my valentine?"

Chenle assumes the kiss you press against his lips means yes

JISUNG - late night picnic by the riverside

Now jisung wouldn't class himself a romantic, he was far from it. He was kind and caring and a total sweetheart but he wouldn't quite say romantic. This plan of his however, has him thinking otherwise.

You had always mentioned thinking stargazing was one of the cutest date activities, especially for a couple like the two of you who took so much interest in astronomy. Jisung sees it as the perfect way to ask you to be his valentine.

You're at the park, the same one you liked to take late night strolls on, sit on the bench and eat those snacks you bought from the convenience store just across the street at. It's pretty large and despite your frequent visits, jisung realises you barely make any use of the riverside that runs along the far end of the park— usually since the two of you get too tired to walk even half the expanses of the park.

It had taken jisung a good week and a fair few discussions with his friends,and even one with his mum, to figure out the best way to execute his plan, so that everything would be perfect. He'd packed a little basket of your favourite snacks and a blanket to place on the grass, and knowing you well enough, jisung had thrown an extra jacket over his outfit. You were bound to get cold.

"Jisung, how come you have a basket?" you ask, your fingers intertwined as you make your way down the gravel pathway, stars reflecting in your eyes as you stare up at him, fuck the sky, the only stars jisung cared about were the ones that shone so brightly at him, and only at him, in those perfect glossy eyes of yours. And if that's what stargazing was, jisung could do it all night long. The rest of his life in fact.

"Jisung?" He barely realises that he hasn't answered your question and when he does, still slightly dazed from your sweet stare he only shakes his head a little.

You don't question it further, jisung could be a little caught up in his thoughts (mostly you), a lot of the time, but you didn't mind

Only one small sigh and jisung takes it as a cue to throw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the other end of the park, he couldn't let you walk if you were tired now could he?

It's only a few weeks into the new year so the weather is still a little chilly, and jisung notices the way your hands grow cold in his, a knowing smile biting at his lips

"feeling cold?" you shake your head but jisung's shrugging off the jacket resting over his torso already and placing it over yours instead, the musky scent of his cologne only adding to the warmth you feel as you stare up at the sky above. You don't realise his eyes on you, that unwavering stare composed of nothing more than love. He doesn't mind, taking a soft breath to compose himself before popping the question.

For some reason jisung can't bring himself to do it. He finds himself far too immersed in the moment. As much as he'd always wanted to go stargazing, especially with you, jisung can't hope but keep his eyes on you, so mesmerised by the sites in front of you as you try and identify the constellations.

"That's the constellation of love isn't it sung? cass– um, cass something"

cute jisung thinks, as he follows your finger upwards, smiling to himself

"hmm not quite angel, but if I show you you have to promise me something?" you turn your head back slightly to look up at him, resting in his lap with his hands resting either side of your waist

"anything"

"be my valentine?" he asks you with that gummy smile and bright eyes, before letting his hands wrap around yours, guiding your index slightly up and to the right,

"cassiopeia, that's the one"

really and truly, he's internally freaking out at the lack of response on your side, but when you smile up at him with that toothy grin, he feels the warmth rising in his chest.

"hey valentine, do you think I could get a kiss?" jisung swears his smile couldn't grow any wider.

456 notes · View notes

7s3ven · 3 months

Note

Hii I loved your daughter of hades x luke fic when is part 2 coming out?? But I had an idea like what if something happened that got her mad and something happens with her flames like they turn black or blue and is like a really strong flame and then luke comes sees this and calms her down and people are like ohh woowww.. bcs he was the only one that could do that

Part 2 is coming out soon! :). For now, I’ll write a short(ish) one shot about your cute idea! 😽. This can be read as a standalone but it makes references to the og so if some parts don’t make sense, you know why.

( master list )

HELL-FIRE : part 1 / part 2 (in progress)

( this is a little spin-off from hell-fire )

Luke (PJO) x Hades! Reader

A/N : completely unrelated, but I believe I could write the most toxic things if I tried hard enough.

Warnings : injuries, y/n and luke making out at the end but I didn’t write it very descriptive just in case lol

—

Y/N was never one to participate in capture the flag. She always came up with a weak excuse to skip it and Chiron had to let her past in fear she’d blow up the camp. Again. It had happened a few times actually.

“Why won’t you play capture the flag?” Luke asked as he shoved a chip into his mouth. The pair were on their routinely midnight walks, which had become a regular thing after their first stroll. Y/N wasn’t so keen on getting caught again but Luke could be very persuasive.

“It’s just a game.” Y/N lightly scoffed, gripping the bluebird chip packet tightly so it didn’t fall out of her grasp. “I don’t see what the big deal is… there’s nothing appealing about it.” She mindlessly shrugged.

“Hm, I can think of a few reasons why you should play.” Luke grinned while Y/N arched an eyebrow, somewhat curious. “Firstly, I’ll be playing with you. Secondly, we’ll probably win. And don’t forget about the glory.”

“Glory is fine but you know what’s better? Not breaking a leg in a stupid game.” Y/N sarcastically smiled while Luke rolled his eyes. During Y/N’s first and only game, she had broken a leg. Granted, it happened while she was rolling down a steep hill.

“Come on, Blaze. You’ll love it.” He assured her, patting her back.

“I’ll hate it even more if you’re with me.” She grumbled in response, her tough facade never faltering. But Luke could see the apples of her cheeks turning pink and he noticed the way Y/N’s eyes darted to glance at him. She couldn’t help but let her eyes flicker to his lips for a split second.

“Why do you love such a game anyway? It’s a waste of time.” She shoved her hands into her pockets.

“Annabeth is captain and she’d be overjoyed if you came. I think she has a kiddy crush on you.” Luke chuckled to himself while Y/N rolled her eyes for what seemed like the fifth time in an hour.

“Nobody has a crush on me.” She uttered, kicking a small stone across the grass. Luke’s eyebrows raised and he paused.

“Okay… what does that make me then?”

Y/N quickly turned her head to look at him. She spluttered, tripping over her own words as her mind tried to decipher his statement. Y/N was always calm and collected but only Luke had seen this side of her. The flustered side, the embarrassed side. “You… you’re lying.” She finally decided on something to say.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Don’t play jokes on me, Luke.”

“You think my affection is a joke? Blaze, I literally get you flowers every day and watch you burn them then throw the petals away. Have you noticed how I don’t give flowers to anyone else?”

“It’s a stupid gesture.” She muttered, “Besides,” Y/N cleared her throat, looking away like she was embarrassed. “I don’t always throw the petals out… sometimes I keep them.”

“Oh, charming, witty, and a hopeless romantic. So, what’s the reason you hate capture the flag so much?”

“It’s stupid. That’s the only reason. People take it too seriously here.” Y/N signed, shoving the bag of chips into Luke’s arms.

“Play one game with me?” Luke asked. Y/N frowned, shaking her head.

“Not a chance. Nice try, though." Y/N briefly smiled before she walked back towards her cabin. Luke was quick to rush after her.

“One game. For Annabeth, at least. She likes your style of fighting.” He begged, blocking her path. He clasped his hands together, pleading her. Y/N sighed at his pitiful attempt but she was tired and every time she tried to step around him, he stopped her.

“Fine.” She snapped. Luke’s eyes lit up and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel her lips twitch into a small grin at his happy demeanour. “Good night, Luke.” She said, bumping his shoulder as she brushed past him.

“Night, Blaze.” He called out after her, “I can’t wait to kick Clarisse’s ass tomorrow!” Y/N huffed in amusement.

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” She uttered, yanking open her rickety cabin door. It creaked and Y/N almost cringed. She’d have to ask someone to fix it for her. The door handle was almost falling off too.

“Hey, Y/N, catch.” Luke unexpectedly tossed something red towards her. She barely managed to grasp the strange object. She stared down at it, shaking her head.

“Did you seriously just give me a pomegranate?” She asked, but she didn’t burn the gift this time.

Luke shrugged as he walked towards her once more. “I heard it’s your favourite fruit.” He said, shivering slightly in the cool breeze. It was, which was ironic considering the story about Hades and Persephone. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, Blaze.” He tucked a stray lock of Y/N’s H/C hair behind her ear, smiling. He was far too close for comfort but Y/N’s body made no move to shove him away. She didn’t know if she even wanted to move.

“You should go, Luke. Before we get in trouble again.” She muttered. Luke cleared his throat, nodding.

“Right… yeah. I’ll leave.” His eyes flickered to her lips for a moment just as Y/N’s had before he thickly swallowed. “Sweet dreams, Blaze.”

The moment he was out of her sight, Y/N hurried into her cabin and slammed the door behind her. She buried her hot face in the palms of her hands, quietly groaning in frustration as she slid down the wall.

She was starting to fall for Luke.

Y/N fiddled with her metal helmet. She aimlessly rocked back and forth on her heels, taking notice of the gazes she was receiving. It was rare for Y/N to even be outside, let alone play a game of capture the flag.

She could see Luke talking to Annabeth and quickly excusing himself to jog over to Y/N’s side. “I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to show up.” He chuckled.

“This is stupid.” She muttered, scoffing.

“And yet you’re still here.” Luke slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, leading her towards Annabeth. “Hey, Annie, look who decided to join us.” The young girl’s eyes lit up and she sent Y/N a small smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was coming, Luke?” Annabeth questioned.

“I only convinced her yesterday.” Luke shrugged, “But she’s joining us now so will that change the plan or?”

“Of course it will.” Annabeth sighed, annoyed with Luke.

“If it makes it easier,” Y/N piped up, “I can just guard the flag.” Annabeth bit down on her lower lip as she thought long and hard, mumbling to herself. She finally decided on an idea.

“I have a better position for you. You’ll be taking Luke’s place.”

“What?” The brunette boy behind Y/N questioned, “But… huh? How come I have to guard the flag? You know how much I like attacking!”

“The other kids are scared of Y/N,” The young Athena girl turned to Y/N, “No offence. Whether we let Y/N guard or flag or let her take the opposing team’s one, we’ll still win because we have an advantage that the red team doesn’t.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, “And that is?”

Annabeth heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes at her brotherly figure. “We have the daughter of Hades who’s rumoured to be quite a good runner.”

“You did track?” Luke turned his head to face Y/N. She silently nodded. Annabeth ushered Luke off and he led Y/N over to his squad, which was temporarily hers. “Stay safe.” He said as he checked Y/N’s armour for the fifth time in two minutes.

“What are you, man? Her mother?” Chris teased, shoving Luke. “Stop worrying about her. We’ll keep your girl safe.” Luke sent his friend a warning glare.

“One scratch,” He said, “And I’ll tackle you.” Chris raised his arms in surrender.

“You got it, captain.”

Y/N fumbled with her heavy sword. She bit the inside of her cheek, watching as her teammates effortlessly fought off the opposing team. The words Annabeth whispered in her ear swirled around in her mind.

“You’re our advantage, Y/N. I need you to lie low and don’t give your strengths away. Act weak, to put it simply. Once you reach the flag, go full out.”

Y/N’s sword clashed with another and she pushed the girl back, causing her to stumble. Chris disarmed the captain of the squad and she reluctantly gave up due to the sword being held at her throat.

The game felt like hours to Y/N. Every turn they took proved a new challenge. Y/N had opted to hiding behind trees to save her energy, something she wasn’t proud of but Annabeth had full faith in her. She didn’t want to let the poor girl down.

“No sign of Clarisse.” Chris said, expecting the curly-haired girl to jump out with her spear. But she didn’t, only confusing the blue team more. “She usually hunts here for the first two hours or so.”

Y/N licked her dry lips. She was at the back of the group but when she spoke, everybody turned in unison to look at her with hawk-like eyes. “They most likely changed their tactic too.” She said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“So if she’s not here,” Chris mumbled.

Y/N nodded, finishing his sentence. “Then she’s going for our flag.”

Luke, on the other hand, wasn’t having nearly as much fun as Y/N. He groaned as he circled aimlessly around the flag he was forced to guard. He knew Annabeth was lurking around somewhere with that invisible cap of hers.

A twig snapped, earning Luke’s attention. His head snapped towards the sound. The forest seemed to grow quiet; the birds stopped chirping and the wind that had been howling in his air for the last hour floated away. He furrowed his brows, taking a careful step forward.

There was another snap. Luke called out to nobody in particular as he adjusted his grasp on his sword. When nothing happened, he turned back to the flag only to see that it was gone from its position perched on the rocks.

Luke ran forward, reaching out a hand to grab Clarisse’s shirt. His fingers barely wrapped around the fabric but she pushed forward and Luke lost his grip “Shit!” He yelled as he watched Clarisse run off with the flag. He angrily kicked a rock, knocking it into a nearby tree.

“Luke, what’s wrong?” Annabeth walked into the clearing, removing the hat her mother gave her.

“Clarisse has the flag.” Luke seethed, clenching his jaw. Embarrassingly enough, she stole it from right under his nose. Another one of their teammates crashed through the bushes, loudly panting and wheezing.

“Y/N has the red flag!” They exclaimed. Luke and Annabeth exchanged a look, knowing that they could still win this game if Y/N moved quick enough.

The said H/C-haired girl sprinted through the vegetation, gritting her teeth as she willed her legs to move faster. Vines and stray branches slapped her in the face, cutting her cheeks and grazing her sun-deprived skin.

The armour was slowly her down and she quickly removed her helmet, letting it crash to the ground. Her sword and shield was next. She could hear the blue team cheering in the distance as she ran, her lungs burning and her ears ringing from pushing her body past its limit.

She spotted Clarisse up ahead, also holding a flag. It was a race to see who could get to the border first. Y/N wildly panted as she approached the safe zone, not daring to slow down. She could see the fury in Clarisse’s eyes as Y/N impulsively jumped over the border in a last desperate attempt, not thinking much of it.

She hit the ground harshly, rolling and hitting a few rocks. She hard Clarisse scream in frustration, throwing the blue flag to the floor in anger.

Y/N’s teammates helped her to her feet, slapping her on the back and loudly congratulating her. But an Ares boy wasn’t as happy with Y/N’s win as her team was.

He blindly slashed his dagger at her, aiming for her face but Y/N quickly moved. The dagger cut her arm instead, splattering blood everywhere. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/N screamed, grabbing the boy’s dagger and tossing it at his shield. The metal loudly clattered against each other, causing the campers around her to flinch. “You almost slashed my face!”

“It’s not like it was worth anything anyway.” The arrogant Ares boy brushed her anger off. Y/N scoffed, taking a step towards him.

“The whole point of this stupid game is that it’s a mock fight. It’s pretend. You don’t have to actually try and slice someone in half.”

“It’s not just a stupid game.”

“You almost killed me over a game that requires you to capture a flag. So yeah, I’d say it’s stupid. And idiotic.”

He swiftly punched her. Y/N was knocked back by the force. She gasped in disbelief, feeling thick blood trail down her chin. “Are you insane, or something?!” She exclaimed, standing up. “Mentally impaired? Mentally challenged? Psychotic perhaps? The game is over, so stop trying to fucking kill me!” Her voice increased in volume the more she spoke. She could feel tendrils of rage slither up her body, wrapping around her and refusing to let go.

“You Ares kids are just like your father! Always so overconfident and obsessed with glory!”

“Like you’re any better! You have Hades as your father.” He tauntingly shoved her, “You didn’t exactly win the lottery either. At least I have siblings, you spoiled only child! The guys were right. You are pretty but you’re also a bitch. I’m surprised Luke tolerates you.”

Suddenly Y/N’s armour was melting. Thick droplets of metal pelted to the floor to join the small puddles of blood and the other campers stepped back when they spotted a small group of flames dancing across the grass.

Only, the fire wasn’t pink or blue or red this time. It was black.

“Oh, shit.” An Athena girl muttered, stumbling backwards. She grabbed another Hermes boy, clutching onto his arm. “Get Luke. Go find Luke!” She tried to calm Y/N down but nothing was working. If anything, it only made things worse.

“I don’t get why everybody’s so scared of you.” The Ares boy continued to taunt her. He circled around her, waving his sword as he laughed. “You aren’t even that strong. I’ve never even seen you play capture the flag. Is it because you’re scared you’ll ruin your nails? Or are you secretly weak?”

“Shut up.” Y/N muttered, glaring at him. It was no secret that Hades had a temper that rivalled Ares’. Unfortunately, Y/N inherited it.

“I bet daddy doesn’t even like you. You probably annoy him. I mean, you don’t fit here either. You should join your dad in hell. That’s where you belong.”

“And you belong in the infirmary with a broken neck.” Y/N snapped. The flames below her crackled, reaching out for anything to burn. You could practically see the heat rise from the fire and another Ares kid yelped in pain when the flames’ heat ate away at her leg, almost melting her flesh and creating a sizzling sound. But she was a meter away from the fire.

“Don’t get too close.” Clarisse warned anybody who tried to interfere. “It’s too hot.” The fire was slowly making a circle around Y/N and the boy, whose name Y/N finally remembered was Jordon.

Luke barged past the trees, quickly walking towards Y/N with large, meaningful steps. The flames made a path for him, like snakes that knew not to harm him.

“What the fuck, man?” Luke harshly gripped Jordon by the front of his shirt.

“Oh, her boyfriend’s come to rescue her. Hooray.”

“Shut your mouth.” Luke grumbled, dropping Jordon and scoffing. “Blaze, let’s go. Get your nose and arm patched up.” He wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, leading her away from the growing crowd.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, asshole.” Jordon sneered, “You’re getting soft, Luke. And for what? A little slut whose only achievement is having Hades as a father? She’s probably a crack whore too.”

Y/N’s temper finally snapped.

She whipped around, ignoring Luke’s warning. She drove her hardened fist into Jordon’s face. “That’s for calling Luke an asshole.” She muttered, grabbing onto the sides of head and slamming his nose into her knee. “That’s for calling me derogatory names.” She finally kicked him between the legs. Everybody watching winced in pain as Jordon fell to his knees. “And that’s for punching me, shit face!”

Her flames exploded once more, causing another cluster of panic. Luke quickly took action, grabbing Y/N by her shoulders and spinning her around. He knew words wouldn’t be enough to distract her so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her.

It was a stupid idea but her flames grew gentle once more, morphing from black to pink. The kiss was a quick one as Luke pulled back, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. But Y/N grabbed him by his necklace and pulled his forward, kissing him once more.

Chris whistled loudly from the sidelines, “Ay! Get it, man!”

Y/N’s lips tasted like metal and Luke realised he should’ve cleaned the blood off her face before kissing her. The red liquid stained his skin when he pulled away for the second time, gazing at Y/N with a vicious urge to kiss her until her lips bled. Unfortunately, Chiron arrived before Luke could sneak Y/N off.

“What’s going on here?” Chiron looked at Y/N’s injured face then at Jordon who was picking up his bloody dagger with a bruised hand. Finally, Chiron’s eyes landed on Luke’s face. Blood trailed from his mouth and smeared around his cheeks. Without context, he looked like he had just devoured somebody.

“Sir, Jordon cut Y/N’s arm, though he was aiming for her face, and punched her even after the game ended. Then he started calling her names. And uh, Luke calmed her down… somehow.” Someone from the blue team piped up, earning a glare from Jordon.

“I think it’s very obvious what Luke did to calm her. You three, see me after Y/N is treated.” Chiron demanded. Luke led her away, teasingly grinning.

“So, you wanna talk about what just happened?” He asked. Y/N scoffed, pulling him behind the Hermes cabin. His back was pressed harshly against the wood as Y/N clenched her jaw.

“You are infuriating, Luke.” She poked his chest, “And annoying. And obnoxious. And you are practically the bane of my existence… so why do I want to kiss you so bad?”

After processing her words, Luke didn’t waste a second in pulling her closer towards him. Y/N kissed him back with all her pent-up anger, frustration, and hatred towards nobody in particular and Luke welcomed her rough approach.

“Let’s get your nose and arm fixed up.” Luke uttered, not wanting to ignore Y/N’s injuries. She reluctantly followed him into the infirmary and sat down on a nearby bed. “So, was my calming technique good?” He teased.

Y/N shrugged. “It was alright.” She spoke with a joking tone and Luke grinned as her hair flared pink again. He loved watching those brightly-coloured flames, especially when he was the cause of them.

PJO TAG LIST (why is there a 50 user limit 😡) : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

#luke castellan x you #enemies to lovers #annabeth chase #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #pjo show #percy jackson series #camp half blood #ares percy jackson #hades greek mythology #greek mythology #hermes pjo

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amakumos · 11 months

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haru yo, koi — yang jungwon (teaser)

full fic is out now! read here.

synopsis. Life is fragile. You’ve known this ever since you got diagnosed with a rare disease that gives you only 10 years to live. You tell yourself to not fall in love, but then you meet Yang Jungwon in the middle of a park surrounded by cherry blossom trees. But just like the fleetingness of the cherry blossoms, your romance with Jungwon is short lived. You can only hope that the universe will be kind enough to offer you a second chance.

genre. angst, fluff, friends to lovers to ?, inspired by the movie the last 10 years.

pairing. non-idol! jungwon x fem! reader

warnings. swearing, reader and jungwon are 22 at the beginning of the fic, mentions of death, hospital, illness & disease, scenes where drinking is involved

word count. est around 30k+ (teaser is approx 1.4k)

author's note. hellohello : ) this is the teaser for the longest every fic i have ever written!!! that’s so crazy!!!! the title is of course inspired by yuzuru hanyu’s program “haru yo, koi” :) i hope u guys enjoy this small little teaser of the full thing & if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just send in an ask !!

Cherry blossoms are known for their existence to be short-lived. They symbolise transience, ephemerality. They fall to the pavement as quickly as they bloom.

Just like the cherry blossoms, your existence will be short-lived. You’re running on borrowed time, and you don’t know when that time will run out.

Every breath you take could be your last.

There is a peaceful quietness as you wander around the park, admiring the vibrant pink hues of the flowers in full bloom. The faint smell of the cherry blossoms waft through the air, and you watch as some of the petals fall to the pavement.

The quietness is interrupted by a dog bark. A white dog runs up to you, and you look at it, startled and confused. Suddenly, a boy who looks around your age runs up to you.

“I am so sorry about Maeumi,” he says, attaching the leash back onto his dog. “He’s a little energetic sometimes.”

You look at the boy, and something about him feels familiar. Those eyes – you’d recognise them anywhere.

It’s Yang Jungwon, an old classmate of yours. He was the head of the student council during your time at the school, and you remember him even though you weren’t exactly there much due to your illness. But Jungwon was always a kind person, helping out anyone in need. He was friendly, and popular. You knew that many people had a crush on him, including your friend Minji.

“Wait a minute,” Jungwon’s eyes narrow suddenly. Something seems to click, and he gasps. “You’re (Name), right? We were in the same class in high school.”

You’re surprised that even with all his busy duties in high school and with you constantly being away at the hospital, Yang Jungwon still remembers you.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, a small smile on your lips. “I’m surprised you remember who I am.”

“Of course I’d remember you!” Jungwon’s eyes seem to twinkle as he says the words. “We worked together on a project for biology once. Do you remember me?”

You chuckle. “Of course. Yang Jungwon. Head of the student council.”

Jungwon smiles. “Yeah. That’s me.”

There’s a brief moment of silence where you and Jungwon just look at each other, small smiles on both of your faces. Maeumi sits patiently as a few of the cherry blossom petals land on his fur.

“So… what have you been up to?” Jungwon asks you, looking genuinely interested. How are you supposed to respond to that? Because really, you’re not going to just tell him that what you’ve been up to is… hospital.

“Um… work. Got a job,” you lie, nodding. “What about you?”

“I’m a lawyer now,” Jungwon replies, and you smile. “Law. It suits you.”

“Huh. Everyone tells me that,” Jungwon runs his fingers through his hair to make it a little neater. “So… what do you do at work?”

“Writing. I… write.” Well, that wasn’t a complete lie. You do write, just… not for work. You’ve only been working on one thing ever since you got your diagnosis — it’s something akin to a diary, recounting your journey through the last 10 years of your life.

Maybe you’ll get to see it published before you’re gone.

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Jungwon beams. “I know your writing’s great. You wrote for the school newspaper, right?”

It seems like Yang Jungwon remembers a lot about you. You wrote occasionally for the school newspaper when you were well enough to actually write. You’re surprised he remembers that, and you’re quite surprised that he actually read the school newspaper — you thought that with his busy schedule, he wouldn’t have had the time to.

“I did. You have a good memory.”

“Thank you.” Jungwon cracks a smile. The boy looks at the cherry blossom trees, before returning his focus onto you. “They’re pretty, aren’t they?” he asks, and you nod.

“I like the colours.” you say, quietly.

“Me too.”

“(Name), Soobin just got an emergency at the hospital, so he’s had to leave– oh!” Chaewon suddenly appears out of nowhere, startling both you and Jungwon. “Sorry, I didn’t know that you were talking to someone.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” you tell your sister, who looks at you, then looks at Jungwon, then looks at you again. “Was I interrupting something?” she asks, with a small smile on her lips.

“We were just looking at the cherry blossoms.” Jungwon pipes up. “I’m Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Chaewon,” your sister says. “Do you know my sister?”

“We went to high school together,” you tell her. “Jungwon was the head of the student council. I’m actually quite surprised he still remembers me, considering how… you know.”

“Yes. I know.”

Jungwon doesn’t know exactly what you and Chaewon are talking about, but it seems personal — and he wouldn’t want to pry. And, you keep mentioning how you’re extremely shocked at the fact that Jungwon seems to remember you.

But, why wouldn’t Jungwon remember his first crush?

Something about you intrigued Jungwon the moment you stepped into the classroom for the first time. It was seventh grade, and you had walked into the room with a small smile on your lips. Jungwon remembers you catching his attention instantly.

You two were partnered together for a project, and you both had quite a few pleasant conversations while working on the assignment. Jungwon remembers walking home with a giddy smile on his lips after he had gone to your house.

But gradually, you started to disappear.

Throughout high school, Jungwon tried to talk to you as much as he could. Problem was, you were almost never at school, and when you were at school, Jungwon always seemed to be busy.

So Jungwon was never able to get closer to you. He couldn’t get to know you better, or find out why he found himself gravitating towards you.

You didn’t even show up for graduation.

The last time Jungwon remembers seeing you was in class one day. You were wrapped in a puffer jacket, a hand warmer in your hands. You looked pale. Jungwon assumed that you might’ve gotten a cold.

He didn’t know that you were sick. He still doesn’t know that you’re sick. Nobody from high school knows, with the exception of Minji and Wonyoung.

He just assumed you were always busy with out of school activities. But he never forgot about you.

“Oh, that reminds me. Ricky’s hosting a reunion party next week for our year? We’d love for you to come.” Jungwon says, and Chaewon nudges you gently. “You should go,” your sister whispers to you.

“Oh, I… I don’t know. I don’t think people there will really remember me.” you murmur, and Jungwon shakes his head. “No, they will! Just come along. Here, I’ll give you my number, since Ricky’s still making decisions on which restaurant he’s booking. I’ll text you the details.”

You type in Jungwon’s number into your phone slowly, saving his contact. “It was really nice seeing you again. What a coincidence, right?” he beams.

“It was nice seeing you again too, Jungwon. I’ll… let you know if I go.”

“I’ve got to run along now, a friend of mine’s waiting for me.” Jungwon says, a small pout on his lips. “But yeah, text me! I’ll talk to you soon.”

“See you around, Jungwon.” you say softly, and the boy gives you one last big smile before turning around to leave. Chaewon looks at you with a wide grin on her lips. “Come on, you should go!”

“I don’t know,” you say hesitantly. You’re not even sure if people remember you. Or know you at all. You attended school less than 20 times in your last year — to be completely honest, even you found it strange that you graduated. “What if people are like ‘who are you?’ It would make things really awkward.”

“So? Jungwon knows you. Invite Minji and Wonyoung. There, you know four people. Come on, (Name). You should live your life to the fullest.”

As you’re nearing the end of the 10 years that the doctor has given you, you decide that perhaps Chaewon is right. You’ve spent years wallowing in self-pity, spending all your days at home when you could’ve been spending time doing things that you’ve always wanted to do. See people you never thought you’d see again. Go to places that you’ve always wanted to go to.

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll go.”

And as a pink cherry blossom petal brushes against your cheek, you return home with Chaewon by your side, and the thought of Yang Jungwon in the back of your mind.

#kflixnet #k labels #enhanet #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #enhypen angst #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #jungwon imagines #jungwon fluff #jungwon oneshots #jungwon au #jungwon angst #jungwon scenarios #jungwon x reader #jungwon oneshot

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evermourning · 7 months

Text

𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: fluff, comfort, slice of life, based off "must be love" by laufey

wc: 0.8k

warnings: neck kisses (non-sexual), use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), language

now that you had someone you could call your own, it was like time stopped.

you were used to not much going your way, like the world had it out for you. it was some sort of sick fucking joke, like a dark raincloud hanging over your fate and covering up all that was good. you learned to code with it. that was how you lived.

until chan came along, of course.

he was the warm ray of sunshine you needed to push the melancholia inside you away. immediately, you could tell something was different. this guy was just full of so much love, it seemed surreal. intangible.

now, months into a relationship with the supposed man of your dreams, you missed him miserably. he sat absorbed in his work, the studio forming a impenetrable fortress that took away any means of self or time...and you sat in traffic.

whenever you were with him, the bad things faded out of view, and when you weren't near his remedial presence, they quickly made themselves known once again.

however, your boyfriend had taught you to appreciate the little things in life. you were composed, calm as you settled into the remotely soft car seat and looked out your window. the sky was like a canvas, warm colors with hues of reds, oranges, pinks, and yellows danced across the dimming sky as the sun bid its final goodbyes...until it would return joyously the next day, like clockwork.

when you finally arrived home, much later than anticipated, you opened the door to the smell of spices and a delicious and piquant scent wafting from the oven, and your boyfriend hard at work in the kitchen.

"you're back!" he said, grinning. carefully setting down the wooden spoon, making sure not even a single drop stained your counters. "i was beginning to worry, you didn't even send me a text..." he faked a pout, only causing your smile to widen.

"i'm sorry, the sunset was so mesmerizing tonight, baby. and i was stuck in traffic." seeing his incredulous glance, you let out a tiny chuckle. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry! in my defense, i thought you were holed up in your studio again, so i assumed you wouldn't even be here..."

"can't do that as much anymore," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. "my baby would miss me too much."

you laughed softly, closing your eyes and feeling yourself get lost in the moment as chan pressed soft kisses along your collarbone and neck.

the little moments like these were the ones where you let yourself go, succumbing to the tranquility of the time spent with him.

you'd fallen so hard, you realized. sometimes you couldn't even believe he was your lover, feeling more akin to some silly school crush whenever you'd get all tongue-tied from his rampant flirting.

this was something more than a crush, though. this feeling of a blooming flower, spreading its vibrant petals far and wide throughout your heart was new. and you...liked it.

...

"where the hell have you been? you're almost alway busy nowadays!" your friend nagged on the phone. "don't tell me that no-good boyfriend of yours is monopolizing all your time...." you tuned her out as her incessant cacophony of yapping made your ears ring. instead, you chose to focus on your boyfriend's eyes, two serene pools of melted chocolate, filled with an elixir of love only for you.

"you're so damn pretty." he commented, staring at you, his lips stretched into a goofy little grin. "i wanna write another song about you."

"another?" you asked, hanging up on your friend. the silence felt heavenly. "you've been writing quite a bit recently, sweetheart...don't you think your fans will start to notice?"

his grin widened.

"see, that's my master plan. i keep all the recordings on my special laptop. therefore, i'll have them without the fans knowing. just for the two of us." he cooed, giving you a quick yet loving kiss. "you should go see ms. screech owl, now. i don't want to prove her point and monopolize your attention...although i really wish i could."

his words played on your heartstrings like a talented violinist, as usual. nowadays, he conducted an entire symphony inside your heart, driving you absolutely crazy.

nearly every waking moment, you felt euphoric, stuck inside a wonderland just for you. chan inhabited every waking thought of yours, and you just couldn't shake him. when he wasn't with you, it felt like a piece of you wasn't there. when he was with you, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

this wasn't normal, you concluded. there was only one possible answer to the scenario you'd entangled yourself in.

this was love, wasn't it?

#ren writes <3 #evermourning #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan #chan x reader #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #bewitched set...entry i

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morallyinept · 7 months

Text

Su Favorita - A Javier Peña One Shot

Summary: You're the only hooker in Bogotá that Javier Peña seeks after a clusterfuck of a day at work trying - and failing - to capture a lead that will steer him to the successful arrest of Escobar.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers/Warnings: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/rough/swearing/mild dirty talk/mention of a gun/Javi gets a little rough and pulls you about - you want it.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Javi's infamous pink shirt inspired this filth and I'm not sorry.

Enjoy! 🖤

MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

His breath is a raw nettle in the back of his oesophagus. Rich tricolours that flap in the breeze are muted into a blur as he spins on his heels, blood thudding in his ears.

He's scanning the panicked faces that orb him as he lowers his Beretta to the ground, aware of the frantic calamity he’s now caused.

Fuck!

He fucking lost him; dropped the ball when he stumbled, and the maldito bastardo got away.

Javier scans the mass of wary bodies surrounding him, two-stepping about with hysterical caution as he loses his composure. Spanish expletives churn from his snarled teeth, offending those closest in ear shot.

Hijo de puta! (Motherfucker!)

The air was heavy with tension, and the sweltering heat seemed to conspire against him, slowing his pursuit. But Peña had pressed on, ignoring the discomfort in his twisted ankle from the fall, as he navigated through the disrupted masses; his eyes never leaving his target.

The locals, aware of the DEA’s reputation, festering in their provinces like cockroaches, hastily moved out of the way; fear flickering in their eyes as he gave chase to the assailant with his firearm brandished like it was his cock.

But it was fruitless as the pain was too much; he'd slowed his pace and he lost the scumbag out of his clutches.

And now he's here, floundering in the public square.

Fuck! FUCK!

The pink shirt is soaked through with sweat; a large, cerise patch on his back sticking to him like a disgusting second skin he can’t peel off. The sun is merciless and running across half of Bogotá under it probably isn’t wise. He’s saturated everywhere, serving only to vexate him further.

The pungent smell of exhaust mixed with the spicy aroma of street food, creating an atmosphere of chaotic intensity, drowns him in the cesspool of sweat that is gluey.

He wipes at his face, tasting salt on his lips and feeling it bead in his eyelashes and moustache alike.

His colleague approaches, mirroring the look of yet another sorry defeat back at him. Javier pats his shoulder anyway; the kid did well. Even if they’re pushed ten steps back again.

A large palm placed on his gut where a stitch takes root, he catches his breath. His lower back aching solidly in places from the stumble down the concrete step he took while he bounded like a rottweiler unleashed after the only solid lead they’d gotten in a while.

He knows he’s getting too old for this cat and mouse shit out on the field; not as fit as he used to be to give lengthy chases after slimy muchachos (boys) half his age, but the son of a bitch is as stubborn as Escobar himself.

Despite the aches, the purple bruising petals that’ll unfurl on his tan skin later, he’ll carry on. He has to; an unspoken oath that he won’t rest until Pablo is rotting behind bars.

Javier almost had him, almost.

He squeezes the chrome, pearl polished gun in his fist, trying to crush it, before tucking it away against his back in his denim waistband and out of sight to calm the vox-populi that have gathered to witness yet another mid-afternoon commotion on their turf between the Narcos and the DEA.

A war raging on that seems as unrelenting as the thick summer climate swamping over the country.

His shirt - the half not crammed into the front of his tightly fitting jeans - flaps around sending a welcome breeze up onto his torso, even if it is warm. He scans the roads once more in all directions as his team gather; looking for faces that are taunting him, but they’re long gone. And Javier’s done.

Another fuck leaves his lips.

The drive back gives him a chance to reflect on where it all went downhill. His eyes are shielded by yellow aviators as he squints through glare of the harsh Colombian sun from the bonnet bouncing back into his face as he rides shotgun in the armoured cruiser with his tail between his legs.

His team spar verbally around him about tactics, dissect missed opportunities and Javier doesn’t want to hear anymore bickering about who missed their shot.

They all fucking did.

The pressure is wrought hard on his shoulders; the flimsy explanations he’ll have to peddle, and the extra chances he'll have to persuade his seniors to give him, even though he knows they are sparse as they are costly these days. The hierarchy at the DEA are going to be pissed at him.

It’s times like these when he misses having Murphy around for some allyship.

Sinking tequila’s later at the bar doesn’t help his mood much either. The buzz fails to cut into his nagging headache as he rubs his temples listlessly. He’s slumped forward on the bar top, his third cigarette on the go rolling between his fingers, whilst he mulls over his next move.

The humidity is thick even at this late hour, and Javier’s too wired to process any more coherent thoughts or contemplate the futility of sleep.

So he goes to the only place he knows he can to blow off some much needed steam.

He tosses a few crumpled bills, moist with sweat, on the bar top and slinks out the door into the opaque heat of the Colombian night.

You’re in your silk nightie when he knocks on your door at an ungodly hour. The black one, with the slit and the lace band that curves around your tits as if it’s tattooed to your ample curves perfectly.

His mouth waters instantly when he sees you.

Javier’s sculpted arm rests up on the frame casually; he looks shattered, defeated and yet coy all at the same time in that way that only he can.

Tortured brown eyes lance at you that make you melt into a puddle at his feet instantly. You can smell the liquor on his breath even at arm's length.

“Did I wake you, hermosa?” He asks with a softness to his usually clipped tone.

His eyes are forlorn around the edges where lines are taking up root in the thin skin ageing him quicker there. You liquefy when you see him standing there brazenly.

You shake your head, feeling the heated tension he always brings with him on your body already. Javier Peña could always wake you in the middle of the night and you would never mind at all.

It hasn't been long since the last time; Javier’s musk is only just starting to fade from your sheets and body alike. You can still smell him in your hair, taste him in your sweat.

And now he’s back to pollute more of you with him.

You step forward, reaching your hands out; your svelte fingers running around his damp, pink collar flapping open and revealing golden collarbone ridges that you long to conquer and lick.

You pull him inside on unsteady feet as he throws the door shut behind him, leaving the shitty day postulating outside.

He rids his body of obtrusive objects; his crumpled box of cigarettes, his gun; the aviators hanging from his shirt opening, and dumps them clumsily on the table you both pass as you pelt his salty neck with hungry smooches.

You plant needy whines that bloom pink carnations out of his pores into your face and you inhale their fragrant perfume. You mewl longingly as you suck onto his skin, leaving a red mark here or there with your teeth and Javier's hiss tells you he needs more of that carnality. More of you.

But he needs to be in control.

So he takes it.

Your back hits the wall winding you; arms are stretched above your head as he pins you and feels down your supple body. His free hand groping with intent over your breasts, sampling the fullness of them and pinching around your hips and thighs as he grunts.

He leans in and slips his acrid tongue into your mouth; his grip becomes tighter on you, desperate.

His eyes are hungry, ravenous and almost black. His fingers skim the hem of your nightie and slip underneath, feeling out your folds that are absolutely dripping for him.

His thick fingers slip across your clit, swollen and bruising as your knees buckle when he slides back and forth over it. You gasp and shudder, whining in your intensity for him as the tingles ramp up your desire.

“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked for me.” Javier groans into your neck approvingly. "You know what that does to me."

He needs this. Needs this wet pussy so fucking badly.

He slips a finger up inside you, marvelling as you flutter and squeeze around him, before he adds another. The sounds of your wetness as he slides in and out are explicitly pornographic, filling his ears with heady, filthy bubbles.

You gasp again, your hands dropping to his shoulders. You hitch up your leg around his waist, pulling him in so he can delve deeper into that wet velvet between your legs.

He smirks under his 'tache as he curls his fingers, massaging against that spongy spot deep in you that makes your thighs shake and your eyes roll back into your skull like clacking marbles.

As much as he enjoys pulling you apart - and often does for hours - he wants this, fucking needs you.

Now!

Growling, Javier lifts you up carrying you to the bedroom, throwing you down on the bed and making you squeal in delight. You look up at him through your now unkempt hair and your whole body soars at his strength, his abrupt roughness with you - his primal desperation.

Your slick, smeared across your inner thighs, shines up at him as you lart your legs, and he emits a low growl in approval.

"Show me, baby." He encourages as you touch yourself.

The moment you opened the door and you caught the familiar, heady scents of him; worn leather and cigarettes, the flash of those cocoa eyes deep rooting inside of you, your slit began to stick together between your legs and you needed him to tear it open again.

Your cunt remembers the shape of him, and you clench in anticipation of having him inside you once more. Re-bruising those fleshy, battered walls that have barely stopped aching.

You groan as your fingers circle your clit and your thighs shake.

Javier loves the way you’re always humming before he’s even touched you. The way you lust for him with dilated eyes like you're high on the white stuff that the brazen Narcos smuggle out the country, and swollen lips that you lick and nibble on.

He loves the flush that births over your cheeks and neck. Watching you cupping your own breasts over the silk as you watch him watch you for a moment.

He savours it, just for a few seconds, before he ruins you. Appreciating the sight of the beautiful woman who craves his touch; who howls at the moon for his dick.

He kneels up over you after unbuttoning his shirt, and sinks his tongue into your waiting hot mouth, jaw bones and teeth clashing in their sloppiness. Javier’s kiss is biting, his warmth searing; his own lust unbridled.

He manhandles you, tearing at the silk and lace that barely covers your tits and ass. His lips latch onto a freed nipple, teeth scraping against in his furore. You hiss as he tugs at the teet with a voracious growl around his gums.

You whine at the dull pinch, and brown doe-eyes glance up at you lessening the pressure as it slips out of his wet mouth.

“Can you take it hard tonight, cariño? For me?” Javier husks, you feel his grip around your waist bruise into your skin with need.

A silent, but yielding plea circles his mocha irises. An unspoken hypnotism that you’ve recognised only a handful of times in him, but know it well enough to trust him with it.

He’ll make it hurt mami, but in a way that’ll leave you craving more. The yellowing bruises on your thighs where he grips, the teeth marks in your skin where he feasts; that heavy ache in your cervix for days as he owns you.

The deep chocolate of his eyes are dissipating into jet black. His breaths become quick, painting frantic annihilation with his touch.

You run your fingers through his oil slick hair, a gentle tug and nod with a hot smile at your lover giving him free rein. "Si, Javi. Si. Give it all to me." You confirm.

"Buena niña,” (Good girl) he rasps at you through teeth that grit. You understand what Javier needs so well, and he needs to consume you right now until there is nothing left of him, or you.

So you let him.

The chink of his belt buckle ricochets through you, crackling as you remove the tattered threads of your nightie, wanting his burning skin crushed and melting against yours until you become one gloopy mess together staining the sheets with your wax.

He yanks you forward by the ankles, sliding you down the bed towards the foot of it where he stands naked; his cock thick and heavy, pointing out at you with a flush scarlet head that oozes delicious pearls from its tip.

He parts your thighs and teases your folds with his fingers, stroking up and down your slit.

“Fucking gorgeous, querida…” Two of Javier’s fingers fill you up again, stretching you open as he widens them inside your sopping hole.

“Mmm,” you breathe, head tossed back as he curls them inside you, beckoning your soul to depart your vessel so it doesn’t have to witness this desperate violation of it.

Javier slides them out, sucks them clean of your slick and taps your hip to get you to turn.

“Bend over,” he instructs as you spread yourself on all fours on the end of the bed. Ass up and legs wide, just how he likes you.

He spits onto your pussy, running his fingers through your drippings and mixing it with his saliva. Your body soars at the notion - it’s utterly lewd and filthy.

“So fucking wet for me, hermosa,” he grunts, marvelling at the spit shine. "Jesus..."

He leans forward, pulls open the globes of your ass cheeks tightly in his hands admiring the view of you splayed all for him.

Javier takes his solid, pulsing cock, lines it up and taps it against your cunt; dipping the tip of his head into your greased folds and coating himself with you.

“Javi,” you mutter encouragingly, your body so desperate for him; your pussy contracting and squeezing to suck more of him into you as he teases you.

Teases himself; allows a beat or two to pass before the chaos descends.

Tres, dos, uno- (3,2,1-)

He plunges in, ramming his cock into your tight crevice and filling you as he shunts in and bottoms oit with force. You shriek out deliciously at the sudden thick intrusion.

He stretches you wide, packs you out and you grip around him welcoming him into your wet flesh.

His large hands are still on your ass cheeks, pulling you open so he can watch his cock slide up inside you to the hilt and your ass pucker at him, blowing sweet kisses.

Fuck, you take him so well.

Javier pulls back slowly; his dick so shiny and soaked in you, and rolls into you in a smooth thrust. He repeats it once, twice more before the need to start pummelling you takes over like a red mist that he can’t see through.

God, you feel so tight around him. You’re nuzzling into the covers as he fucks you deeply, losing yourself into a tumbling spiral of covetness for his cock. He’s so hard, so thick and rails you to within an inch of your life.

"Oh, fuck!" You whine as he picks up a brutal, punishing pace.

He fucks the breath out of you and all of your senses out of your mind into jumbled piles beside you in the sheets.

His large hands steady you; pulling on your hips, anchoring you back into meeting his every shunt into your squelchy tunnel that squeezes around him ruthlessly.

You spasm, detached from any control over your limbs and begin to see pink phosphenes glitter behind your eyelids.

“Like that, baby,” you groan wantonly as Javier pulls you back against him, again and again and again.

And again.

He’s so deep you’ll be feeling it for a week. His fingers scrape through your hair, gathering it into his palm and knotting around his fingers as his cock slides further in and your head is yanked backward by your roots.

“Mmm!” You cry out, feeling him bottom out continuously and fill you wholly.

You squirm and squeal, you judder and buck, but he keeps you grounded. Keeps you right there taking all of him brutally in a shape that would baffle any Yoga instructor as your torso is pulled upwards and backwards by your hair, as far as your spine will allow.

It feels amazing, giddy. You feel a gentle nudging against the precipice of pain deep within your core. You feel hot, drenched. Weak.

You're tumbling, falling deeper into a black pit of oily pleasure that coats your skin.

Javier takes your arm and folds it back across your lower spine pinning it there. He does the same with the other and your face topples into the mattress tasting cotton on your tongue as he burrows deeper, splits you open.

He’s everywhere, consuming and taking. His grunts are grazing inside your ears, his sweat is dripping onto your skin, sizzling it. His cock is punching out your insides with every snap of his hips.

You screech as he speeds up; the constant cresting of his hip bones against you at a banging tempo as your screams start to pierce; you beg him for more.

"Más duro, Javi!” (Harder) You pant wildly.

You want him to rip right through you and out of your chest walls with his cock.

Your body is burning up; a fire licking at the insides of your belly acids ready to ignite them, heat surging across your skin.

You can feel it behind your eyes, in the tips of your toes, on the back of your tongue as the building of your orgasm courses through your nerve endings.

Javier all but growls at you as his breath puffs out of his chest on each, thrusting syllable.

"You wanna come, hmm? Can feel you squeezing me, baby."

He taunts. He knows you're close to utter destruction; he can feel how tightly and regularly your pussy is squeezing around him now. He’s making you sing and he’s greedy for the hoarse treble clefs you pelt into the air around him.

Your ass slaps back onto his thighs as he wrenches you back each time; your slick dripping down your own now, and pins and needles fizzing in your fingertips behind your back as they numb out with how he’s got you twisted.

He fucks harder. Intense. Gruelling. Unwavering thrusts fill your pussy to breaking point as he lets all of the day's failings - his failings - out of his system and forces them into you.

He gives you all he's got. And it's too much and still not enough.

“Oh, fuck! Please, Javi!” You beg, your voice slack and thick. You can only take it; let him use your hole for his own gratification and release.

You feel a harsh sting on your ass as he slaps it - hard.

You bawl out; a low pitched groan that warbles around the hot room, your hair sticking to your face. Your thighs shake and give way as you fall fully flat, and Javier’s hands press down onto your lower spine keeping you still as he fucks hard and deep and doesn’t stop.

The metal railings of the bed squeak relentlessly and hammer against the wall.

“Taking my cock so well, bonita.” He pants from behind you in a voice that has been stripped away from the Javi you know.

He crushes you with his chest, his hand snaking up your throat gently as the heavy grunts inside your ear fill your head with dizzy helium that makes you float.

His thumb tip slips into your mouth as you suck on it - dribbling around it with clumsy teeth - his fingers crushing around your chin and jaw.

And you want him to snap you in half if that's what it takes.

He’s feral in owning you, claiming you with his cock.

His favourite, eres su favorita. (You're his favourite.) You’ve not entertained other clients, stopping all services since Javier first got his dick wet inside of you. He came back for more and more.

The length between visits is getting shorter, the time spent with his face between your legs getting longer. The money exchanged between you ceasing with mutual consent, because it’s more than just a cheap fuck now between you. DEA Agent Javier Peña craves you. Needs you when the crushing weight of the world starts to suffocate him.

Gets his sight back in colour when he takes root up in your pussy.

He’s the only one you’ve ever let stay the night; the only body who sleeps in your bed wrapped around you like a baby capuchin clinging onto its mother.

His limbs glued to yours in the sweltering heat after he's covered you in his pearly fluids; marked his territory, a seminal signature upon your body parts and heart alike.

Javier feels the tightness around him squeeze harder. Your pussy strangling him, milking him for all he’s got as your orgasm blasts into you like a solar flare.

“That’s it, baby. Come on my cock,” Javier coos, his hips working harder as he fucks you through it. "Soak it, querida."

God, he fucking needs it.

You’re weightless; your bones melt into molten lava and you blaze up from the inside out, disintegrating into ashen dust under him as you erupt.

“Jaaaavi!” You wail, your body rattling; you’re muttering incoherently into the sheets as though possessed by a thrashing spirit.

“Where?” He growls, holding on by a thread. “Where, querida?!” He hastens.

“Inside me, mi amor.” (My love) You instruct, out of breath, completely wrecked and spent.

He chases it, holding out as long as he can before he spills himself inside of you with thick squirts, and heavy howls; coating your walls in that plentiful spend he loves watching drip out of you afterwards whilst he pushes it back in with his fingers. Stroking your clit gently as your thighs twitch from the overstimulation.

But he’ll keep doing it; building you up again until you can take him once more when he’s hard and ready to destroy you all over.

He grunts loudly, chest puffing as he releases and slows his pace into a laboured shunt, your skin tight in his grip as he comes down.

Soft, satiated moans spilling from his lips and making patterns on your back as they settle in.

His head clears, the tension untangled from his shoulder muscles, the ache in his back seems non-exisitent for a few moments, and his hands massage your ass cheeks affectionately as he slides out leaving a spill of him to follow.

Javier takes everything from you that you have to give again before he's fully satiated; the deep night shifting into a pastel dawn, until you both collapse in the crumpled sheets of mutual sweat and come.

Tangled up in his caramel limbs and lost in a fever dream of his raw, savage sex.

Small snuffles of warm, stale breath coat your back.

Javier is dead to the world and snoring lightly from his nose; the exhaustion and over-exertion of the previous day - and night - finally kicking his pert ass into a smashed sleep.

In the late morning, the glow of the Colombian sun flirting behind the curtains coats his face in gold shadows that dance.

When you stir awake, he's already regarding you; those dark coffee eyes a lighter shade of hazel in the light.

He runs a lone, thick finger that carries the scent of you in the whorl of his fingerprint down your arm and onto your hip. It leaves goose pimples in its wake and destroys your peace.

Your nipple wakes up on the breast that isn't crushed under your body weight and he strokes his thumb over it delicately, rousing you. You shudder and smile sleepily under the mess of your hair.

“You good, cariño?” Javier’s voice is muted, heavy with sleep and some small hesitation is lingering there in the roots of his moustache.

He knows he was rough on you, maybe a little too rough at times. Knows he used your body for his own release, his cock a battering ram into your precious pussy. Even though you came - he’ll always make sure you do before he does - he was justifiably selfish in his needs in getting off this time.

But you don’t mind. You’ll take him however he comes to you when he needs you.

This morning he’s going to make it up to you as you nod at him, smiling like you’re drunk cupping his face, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone and feeling the graze of a shadow of sharp hairs surfacing.

Javier kisses you deeply, licks into your mouth and rolls himself on top of you. He peppers kisses down your jaw affectionately, suckles gently on your chin through sleepy smiles, and nips your throat with contented sighs that inflate you.

He runs his jaw across yours affectionately, nips gently on your ear lobe and plants more, delicate kisses over the vicinity of your face.

The weight on his shoulders seems lighter now, almost gone. The prospect of a clearer head and an optimistic approach in his next move in capturing Escobar seems less daunting, more attainable somehow.

And he knows it's because of you.

“Javi, baby,” you moan as you feel his hardness pressing into your inner thigh meat. His wetness smears over it and glistens in the sunlight.

His touch is more delicate now, more precise and concentrated.

More Javier.

“Querida,” Javier shushes as he plants a trail of kisses across your collarbone, mouthing around your nipples gently with a warm, wet tongue and soothing the sting of his previous bites.

He feeds you bliss, calm. He feeds you the tender pieces of him that no-one has ever tasted before.

A ragged cry unfurls at the back of your throat as he slips back inside you, this time taking his sweet time in filling you and making you feel every veined inch of him.

Gasping at how good he feels, your hands claw at his back; you bury your face in the crook of his neck inhaling his fresh musk of sweat, smoky cigarettes and the lingering spices of his aftershave in faint notes, as he drowns you with him and pulls you under.

Javier’s hips rock back and forth, moving deeper with every deliberate glide. His pubic bone caresses your clit deliciously as he grinds in and out. You’re biting into the tan skin of his shoulder as your dreamy orgasm stirs from the slumbering pits of your core.

“Come for me, baby,” he rouses in your ear in a thick whisper drenched in his own pleasure growing again, as feeling you squeeze and pulsate around his cock makes him weak.

He kisses gently all over the skin of your cheek; delicately peppering little smooches. Running his fuzzy lips against your skin.

You kiss him back, tasting his tongue and sucking it gently.

“Mierda,” (Shit) he grunts as he feels your fingers entwine with his and squeeze tightly.

He squeezes back. He always squeezes back.

“Javi, don’t stop…” You whimper with a mouth full of his skin, and he draws back to watch you come undone. Watch you lose your shit on the end of him once more and it's a sight that makes everything else pale into insignificance.

You shine brighter than the sun blinding him.

There’s a reason why he favoured you over all the whores he’s ever found solace in; this right here.

That resplendent look glazed over your watery eyes as you come completely undone around him; crying for him and begging him for more of his cock.

For more of him.

Your cheeks are red matching the heat on your lips, your eyes punch drunk on lust and the glitter that only you can see fills the room once more and suffocates all of your orifices with its metallic dust.

You come again, hard. It's intense. Different to how it was last night.

The tightening bunch in your gut snapping back like a band, and flooding out of you; soaking his cock which he so desperately wants and needs.

It’s enough to make Javier lose it again too. He pants and groans as he empties out inside of you, collapsing onto your chest and grunting as he catches his breath.

Your hands soothe his back and you stay like that for a while feeling his warmth leak out of you whilst he softens.

You kiss into hairline as he kisses over the same patch of skin on your stomach, as he stays there for a while and contemplates never moving from that spot ever again.

You watch, a while later, as he tucks his gun into the back of his waistband and grabs his cigarettes from the table in the hall. His yellow aviators find their home on his face and he smiles at you.

And this is the part that always cuts through the pleasure you’ve been drowning in.

Javier turns to kiss you, his hands squeezing your body; moulding it into his as he leaves a cast of you in his flesh, an indent where you'll always fit.

The scent of his stale, sweat laden, pink shirt seeps into your nose and you taste salt on each other’s lips that'll stay on yours long after he leaves. You’ll lick it off, continuing to taste him; ingesting him fully.

Each parting kiss feels heavier, longer somehow, and you sense some reluctance in him this time - forever hopeful.

But you know it won’t be long again before he’s back.

Afterall, you’re Javier Peña’s absolute favourite.

I hope you enjoyed reading this Javier Peña story of mine. If you enjoyed it, please consider re-blogging so others can find it on their dash. Thank you. 🖤

MASTERLIST| JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

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shotosjupiter · 2 years

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HOW THEY ASK YOU OUT + KARASUNO

synopsis + warnings: gn!reader + fluff. how the karasuno folks ask you out <3

— DAICHI asks you outright. it took nearly every ounce of courage he possessed to ask you the question, but he had done it. eyes desperately searching yours, his hands reach out to hesitantly hold yours. it was right before volleyball practice, the school day ending for regular students. he had ran from the gym to your last class of the day and then with his hands on his knees, panting, he asked, "will... you please... go out with me?" he had asked in between breaths. he was left even more breathless when he heard your eager yes as a response.

— SUGAWARA presents you with flowers and his brightest grin. he didn't want to ask you empty-handed and he figured white carnations (they represent pure love, he checked) couldn't go wrong. stuttering just the slightest bit, he asks if you'll accompany him as his date to the local museum. he's sweating just a bit (a lot actually) as he nervously awaits your answer. you stare at the flowers for a bit and then look back up at him. his cheeks turn red and he can't help but bring you (and the flowers) into a tight, crushing hug when you say yes.

— ASAHI slides you a note in the middle of class. will you go out with me? is written out neatly across some spare notebook paper. you lift your head up to look at asahi, only for him to already be staring at you. he quickly turns his head down to his classwork, the tips of his ears bright red. his leg bounces up and down as he awaits an answer. you smile and hastily write yes i would love to with a doodle of heart and slide the note back to asahi's desk. you watch as his pen drops and he turns back in his seat to look at you, a grin spread across his face. you smile back and wave, your face heating up at the ecstatic expression across his face.

— NISHINOYA leans his arm against your locker as he pops the question casually. externally, he seems like the vision of cool-headed. he's asking the person of his dreams out, no sweat. internally? he is bouncing off the walls, screaming, nervous as hell, but praying to every entity above that you say yes. it took all of tanaka's energy to get noya enough swagger to ask you out at all. he looks up to you, eager for a response. when he sees you smile and nod to his question, he lets out a breath and then pumps his fist in the air in rejoice of victory. "you won't regret this, y/n!"

— TANAKA invites you to one of karasuno's games. he decides that if they win, then he'll ask you out. 'lo and behold, they do win. you make your down from the bleachers, eager to congratulate him when he runs to you, crushing you in a tight hug despite the sweat clinging to his skin. high on the adrenaline from the game and winning, he blurts out the question with no other thoughts on his mind other than wanting to be yours, "can you please go out with me?" he thinks that he earned two wins in a day when you say yes.

— KIYOKO asks you beneath the tree in the yard of the school. it was lunchtime, and she had made a bento for you and her to share. it was spring time and there were flower petals floating around in the wind. taking a deep breath, kiyoko turns around to face you and promptly asks you the question with her face slowly turning a shade of pink. the lunch she made you lays in your lap as you quickly grasp her hands and leave a kiss on her cheek. "yes of course i'll go out with you kiyoko,"

— YACHI sends you a text. it's the coward's way of asking, she knows. but you give her butterflies and make her nervous all around and this is the only way she could ever confess her feelings. she types it out in the cutest manner, y/n! i like you (; ω ; ) will you consider going out with me? she turns her on and off every thirty seconds to see if you've responded yet, and jumps off her seat, yelling cheers as she receives the reciprocation of her adoration.

— HINATA didn't know how to display his endearment towards you in any other way than the one he knew best: volleyball. he insists that suga pretend that he's practicing sets with him outside, conveniently next to where you sit during lunch. the ball manages to 'accidentally' be thrown right next to you. flinching, you grasp the ball to throw it back at the boys only to the (extremely messy) handwriting scrawled across the ball in a striking black shade: Y/N, GO OUT WITH ME PLEASE! hinata stands a tad bit in the distance, hands cupped around his mouth as he yells, "what do you say, y/n?"

— KAGEYAMA is a man of little words except when it comes to you. does he vocalize those words? absolutely not. you make him nervous as shit. he starts stuttering, words stumbling over the others, his mind running a mile a minute. however, one day after practice he falls into an easy conversation with you - stuttering only ever once a few sentences, he finds himself speaking words he never thought he would utter aloud. sweat is clinging to his back and neck (from practice or from being around you, he doesn't know) as he confesses just how much he likes you, his words coming easy for once.

— TSUKISHIMA is a secret romantic. he walks home with you, the two of you sharing a pair of earbuds as one of his playlists blares into your ears. you hum to the tune of a familiar song, and then promptly turn your head to tsukishima. not fast enough to have the earbud fall off your ear but with enough force for tsukishima to get his head out of his thoughts and turn to look at you, a question in his eyes. you grant him a small smile and nudge him, "do you think you could send me this playlist? i like it."

a slight blush blooms across his cheeks as he nods in response to your question. this was the playlist he made with the thought of all you made him feel and the idea of confessing to you one day. the fact that you liked it reassured him that maybe (just maybe) he had luck with you in the future.

— YAMAGUCHI fiddles his fingers as he holds out a bento full of all your favorite sweets. a note is written atop it, but you pay no attention to it as yamaguchi stammers out, "i like you. i like you so much. so take these please, even if you don't like me back." wringing his fingers, he brings up his head back up to look at you; he's met with a sweet surprise when you lay a quick kiss on his cheek and accept his confession.

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soobpricity · 5 months

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this love - kang taehyun

letter 4 ; attention is what i want ☺️

synopsis: what happens when soccer player!kang taehyun, who isn’t focused on school but is smart enough to pass, sees yn walk in the hallways nearly everyday after homecoming. taehyun’s new hallway crush begins to grow into something bigger, but what happens when he has to make a choice between yn or continuing to fail school ? will taehyun be able to focus on sports, classes, and trying to win yn over ?

taehyun nearly pranced into the library, pink hydrangeas in his arms, along with a few white and blue hydrangeas. the petals formed in a heart-like shape, taehyun found himself admiring the flowers. a small grin decorated on his face, he couldn’t believe he was doing this.. he had never done such a thing, with his past few relationships, he had never tried to actually gain their affection. which confused him, because how were you able to change him so fast.

taehyun gently placed the flowers on the wooden table, settling his things down, backpack hanging off his chair, as he took out a folder.. full of multiple papers, he typically wasn’t very organized, but he knew that if he was going to be staying on the soccer team, he had to try at least a little bit.

“hey, taehyun..” you shyly greeted, a tiny smile on your face. the ends of his lips immediately turned upwards, watching as you entered the library. he grabbed the flowers from the table, handing them to you.

“hello.. i brought these for you.” he timidly spoke. your hands hesitantly wrapped around the bouquet, eyes admiring the pale pink flowers. as you tried to hold back a huge smile.

“thank you.” you sent him a small smile, still tried to hold back how happy you truly were. throughout your entire life, you’ve never received any kind of affection like this. bouquets were practically nonexistent in your life, simply because you liked to avoid their existence since you were never really given any. you noticed the worksheet that was already placed in front of his seat, another tiny smile decorating your face. “you’ve already started working.. i’m starting to think that you don’t really even need me.”

“don’t say that.” taehyun pouted, taking a seat in the wooden chair. taehyun picked up his pencil and began to scribble down anything that came to mind. you took a seat across from him, taking out a paperback book. opening the book, getting ready to focus in on the book that lied in front of you. eyes scanning the words, and brain processing everything typed on the paper. small seconds of hesitation as you annotated your thoughts onto the paper, still feeling as though writing in your own book was illegal, even if it wasn’t.

taehyun lifted his head, his attention shifting from the useless paper that took up its space in front of you to take a look at you. he felt his heart flutter at the sight of you, you were driving him crazy without even doing anything or even knowing. he found you so cute as you focused in on the book in front of you watching the way you were so immersed, jaw dropping at each point as you progressed in the story. although what taehyun didn’t know, was that you could very much see the way his eyes lingered on you. not only that, but your own heart was racing. the way his gaze stayed on you with absolute adoration in his eyes. you attempted to draw your attention back to the book, which was quite difficult after all the events that had happened to send your heart into a frenzy.

taehyun took his eyes back onto the paper in front of him. he felt a little bit too lazy to continue doing his work, instead, he placed his head down on the table. his pencil still held in his rather tight grasp. in reality, he hadn’t done much, he only answered the simple questions that had quite obvious answers. all the other questions on the paper seemed like they took a rather long time to complete and correctly answer.

just as you were getting your attention placed back onto the book in front of you, you noticed as taehyun laid his head on the table, the hydrangea filled bouquet laid to the side of you. his hand still pretending to do any kind of work on the piece of paper that he was beginning to grow bored of.

“taehyun.”

“mhmm..” he hummed, his eyes looking up at you, as he put down his red mechanical pencil. his hands fidgeted on with each other.

“you’re not actually doing your work, are you?” you interviewed him, a small frown displayed on your face. you moved to sit next to him, you took a look at his paper to only see 3 questioned answered out of a total of 10. “taehyun..” you mumbled, as he pouted seeing the frown that was on your face, he didn’t want that. he didn’t want you to be disappointed with him and his lack of focus.

“sorry… i’ll get to it.” he replied, pencil back in his hand as he took a second look at the questions.

“do you need help..?” you wondered, eyes staring into his chocolate brown orbs. even though, taehyun truly did not want to do his work, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty and embarrassed for being caught not doing any of it at all. he shook his head, his eyes moving back to the paper in front of him. he had to focus, so you could be proud of him. he was sure that if he did his work, successfully completed and correctly answered each question, then he would be able to make you proud and perhaps treat himself to a date with you, only if you were okay with that of course.

“taehyun..? are you sure, i can totally help you, y’know, that’s what i’m here for..” you spoke. he took a long second to think.

“if i do my work.. can i take you out ? like on a date..?” he asked, his hesitant manner was not so well hidden as he fidgeted with his fingers, eyes lingering on your face before looking away. he didn’t want to back down, but it was too difficult to continue keeping eye contact with you, especially after his (what he thought) was an absurd request.

“hmm… how about i set the conditions then taehyun. if you can get.. how many things have you not turned it ?”

“umm sixteen.”

taehyun felt nearly embarrassed to answer your question, he felt so ashamed of the amount of work that he was behind on. he couldn’t believe that just a second ago he was so confident on not doing any of his work and now he was completely reflecting on himself and his actions.

“how about, if you can get those sixteen worksheets turned in within a month.. then maybe you can get your chance.” you timidly replied, feeling the way your heart would beat against your chest. how you so badly simply wished that he would ignore your wishes and ask you out right then and there. however, it was better for taehyun to listen to your boundaries. if he wanted to secure his spot in the soccer team, he had to listen to what you asked of him.. even if he was too bored and lazy to do any of the work. he needed to stick as the captain of the soccer team. he needed to finish the season in the soccer team without being put on the bench for the rest of the season. and he had to win that date with you, he truly wanted it, maybe that’s the final thing that he truly needed to do to secure his feelings and know that they lie with you.

“do you want me to help you with that ?” you once again asked, taking a deep look at the paper in front of taehyun.

“please…”

“what do you need help with ?”

“can you just explain this to me and after that i’ll be able to do it on my own.” taehyun pointed to the words in a specific sentence on his paper. you read majority of the paper, seeing the economic terms and questions on the piece of paper. you signaled for taehyun to give you his mechanical pencil, he handed it to you, as you lightly pointed the tip of the pencil onto the paper.

he smiled as he listened to your voice, explanation sticking in his mind. he could listen to you explaining boring economic terms as much as you wanted and every single time he would still listen and he would be able for repeat everything you said to him. he would love to just admire you, but he had to listen.. he had to keep focus.. he truly did want to ask you out in that date and he was so excited to complete all of his work and be able to ask you out.

“do you get it ?” you re-explained everything, summarizing the points that you had just made. ensuring that nothing confused him. “does that make sense ?”

“yeah, it does.. do i get a reward for finishing my work..”

“taehyun.. will a reward system really help you finish your work ?” you asked, previous words and phrases that taehyun told you has led you to believe that he can only work with a reward system.

“mm…maybe.” he answered, small smirk on his lips. he held back a little giggle, which was still obvious as he spoke.

“let me think something up, and if i can then i’ll get back to you, ‘kay ?”

“okay, but it better be something good. like taking you out for a treat..”

you held back a wide grin, although taehyun could see the corners of your mouth turning upwards. he watched as his words affected you, your cheeks turning a rosy red.

“i’ll think about it, okay.. how about you finish this paper and then we’ll go.. how does that sound ?” you turned your head, tilting it to one side.

“that sounds great.. be sure to put those flowers in a vase when you get home.” he replied, as he began to finish his work. the questions only took a few twenty minutes which was quite a short amount of time considering that his classmates had an entire class period to finish it. you had even gone through the paper to check his answers spending a few ten minutes working out the problems yourself to ensure that he had the right answer.

“you did so well today, taehyun.” you spoke up. “if you keep this up, you honestly won’t have any worries, you’re doing great.”

he beamed as you showered him in pure compliments. he couldn’t believe he truly was being praised for doing his work. he knew that he was going to have to keep up the good work if he truly wanted to end up with a date with you and with his captain position in the soccer team, but that was not his number one priority. his number one priority was… your atttention.

©️soobpricity

this love taglist : @run2seob @soobadooba @soobnuuy @pockychuwu @crazynyctophilia @rencarnationofangel @esther-kpopstan @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @michinri @hanstarrs @ariam-96 @pinkheadflowers @kittyhyuka @run4gyu

an: OOOH i finished my essay !! im so excited to turn it in, this was like an essay that i truly enjoyed to write. i would 100% become a movie critic if i wasn’t so biased towards actors and just stories in general.

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ceruleancattail · 1 year

Note

WHY HELLO THERE- cough- Hey hi hello its me, Mrs Leech, and im here to make a predictable request !! Fluff + Established relationship: i look after my flowers and Jade has his mushrooms and terrariums, so i have to know what it'd be like for me and my silly mershroom to do our gardening chores and scheduled things together,, maybe even writing down how to take care of each others plants/fungi for when one of us is too busy,, also i'd totally join his club because i love to sketch scenery, plus hiking would be nice and relaxing for me since i enjoy being around him (ps.bonus points if the reader isn't MC/Yuu/Ramshackle Perfect)

Oh my goodness the @twistedchatterboxed in my inbox? An honour-

Coming right up, Mrs Leech!

Jade Leech with an s/o who gardens!

Jade Leech x reader

Jade’s glad. A shared hobby with his beloved. Well, one may argue that flowers and fungi are nothing alike. Yet both sprout from the Earth, do they not? A thousand different species, each with their unique charms.

Mushrooms grow in the dark, rising from rotting corpses. Almost like a phoenix, no? Caps of red, brown and white, facing up to the world courageously. They creep up in the shadows, slowly but surely. Dark knights, slowly consuming whatever remains of their hosts. He’s rather fond of his mushrooms.

Yet if his mushrooms were the knights, your flowers were the maidens of old. Sprouting from small, delicate seeds, their stems pierce through soil, reaching for the sun. Leaves unfolding like hands in prayer, their buds blossoming with all the grace of a lady in court, they shine brilliantly. Drawing all eyes to their petals, their blooming flowers.

Those very same petals can be crushed into tea. The last cup of tea you’ll ever have. Needless to say, Jade’s enchanted by your collection. You two spend hours in the botanical garden, sharing about the latest additions to the collection.

Sunlight streams through the glass, fragmenting it into every colour of the rainbow, dancing around the garden. A breathtaking scene, if Jade says so himself.

His beloved, brows frowned in concentration. Leaning over their plants, carefully pruning the flowers, bit by bit. Soil clung to their fingertips, sweat blistering like pearls on their skin. Surrounded by the angelic light of the sun…

Well, you do look rather gorgeous, if he does say so himself.

Date nights are spent together, both of you pouring over your schedules, highlighters in hand. Crafting together a timetable of sorts, to ensure that both the fungi and plants have sufficient care. Jade does draw, little doodles swarming his side of the timetable. Mushrooms, with dotted caps growing out of the lines.

In retaliation, you draw on flowers. Each one picked out for their specific meaning. Pink Camellias blooming at the edges; longing for you.

Gardenias in a line under his name; You’re lovely.

Baby’s breath dotted throughout the paper; Everlasting love.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #jade #twst jade #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #lucky charm🔹

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

Text

spring snow, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: In memory of you, the one I should have loved when it counted. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. To the backdrop of the black sky and white flakes falling down, you and Jeon Jungkook learn that you are far more connected than you could ever believe. I miss you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; slow burn - struggles with letting go of the past, ponderings of adulthood, and feels; smut (fem reader, heavy making out, f and m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - JK walks reader home every day after work; switches between Jungkook’s POV and yours

this is a very different format from my usual. i let my hands do whatever they wanted to do. about people and relationships... and porn with feelings XD

I miss you.

It’s crazy that I think that now. Back then, I couldn’t wait to get out.

I miss you.

Sometimes I stay awake on purpose. I don’t want to fall asleep and see you. If I see you in my dreams, I miss you more. I remember what each season with you was like. Warm nights lit up by fireworks and bites of crushed-up watermelon from strong but unstable hands. Cold afternoons with warm breath against my palms, watching the leaves tumble down. Endless nights surrounded by white flakes tumbling from the sky.

I fill my days with the way it was, and I fill my nights with broken dreams.

I wish I could say I wrote that but, actually, I read that from my hyung’s notebook. He’s good with words. I’m not. Or maybe it’s from a song. He likes writing down lyrics that stick with him. Anyway, you you would have liked him. He might have inspired you back then. You always liked intelligence since you felt like you lacked it.

Now I know that was precious too, those moments of innocence.

I miss you.

I should have held onto you more closely back then.

I should have but I didn’t know.

I’m sorry I didn’t. That’s what I wanted to say.

I miss you.

I see you clearly when I close my eyes. It’s spring. The trees have flowered and the petals are being blown by the wind. Your hair flies up from the breeze. That expression you make, mild surprise and wonder as the pink petals surround you in a halo and then disappear into the sky and the horizon.

I like your eyes.

They’re so pretty.

It’s not realistic, but I like to pretend it is.

But you’re right. Spring is usually a lot of rain. Blue moods and grey days. You were always right about those things. I bet you’re still right about them now. You have to be, huh? Always realistic. Did you ever think you should pretend a little more? Just a little bit. Maybe, if you did… back then.

I miss you.

I try to forget about you.

I try to lose myself so I can forget about you. I don’t think it’s working though.

Fuck, I miss you.

I thought about you today.

Do you remember that there was a time you thought kissing was so important? You acted like it was super gross, but the truth was that you couldn’t imagine kissing just anybody. It had to be someone really important.

That’s weird, you know.

That’s so weird. It’s only a kiss.

Just a kiss.

Would you tell me not to kiss her?

Would you tell me she’s not important enough? That I’m wasting something really important? I thought about it. I thought about you, so I didn’t do it. I almost got close. But I couldn’t do it. I thought about your face looking back at me. And I couldn’t do it.

I still want to, though.

The night was really cold. I wanted to hold her hand, at least. But she just smiled at me and tucked her hands in her pockets. She told me to hurry home so I didn’t get sick.

Maybe I should have kissed her.

Fuck.

I’m not holding on. I’m not. Look. You’re only in my head. That’s it. I have a lot of things in this head of mine, not just you. You’re not the only one here. I remember a lot of things from back then, not just you. There’s lots of people in here. Not just you.

Blurry faces, sure.

But still there.

Not just you.

I don’t want to think about you. I hate it. You remind me of bad things. Of cold days. Of blue and grey, of dark nights and missed mornings. Of empty feelings and grasping at nothing. I want to forget. I want to forget those obsidian nights with pearl-white flakes falling from the sky, forget those frozen palms and dead leaves under the feet of passerby, forget those humid, sticky summer nights most of all, those nights were I looked up and saw no stars.

I want to forget the rain and the flower petals that I made up, yeah, those ones that surround your curious face and pretty eyes.

Please.

I want to forget.

Let me forget.

I think everyone feels this. I’ve thought about it. This feeling can’t be exclusive to me, right? For instance, people talk about how they miss their high school friends. They wonder what they’re up to. If they would still be friends now. Would they still like the same things? Or would they move on to different interests? Adults are like that. They talk about back then, school days, carefree vacations, and that hot girl they had a crush on, wondering if they’re still hot now.

I don’t really think I’m an adult, but I do miss you and I do think about back then.

School days.

I was so ready to become an adult, but now that I’m here, and I’m pretty sure adult is a fake word. I don’t think you would have believed me if I told you back then. You just wanted to be an adult and do all the things adults can do. Stay up as long as you want. Not have homework anymore. Adults are free to do whatever they want, right?

Who knows.

I know you wanted to find that real kiss more than anything.

I saw her again.

I think I’m just going to kiss her the next time I get the chance. I don’t really care if she’s important enough or not.

Maybe that’s what adult means.

This is a mistake.

I know you would tell me it is. I don’t care though. I don’t care anymore what you think.

I don’t.

I’m not going to let myself be dragged down by the ghost of you for no reason. What’s the point of the past? To learn from past mistakes, of course. There’s no point in dwelling on those dark nights lying awake with music pumping through earbuds to drown out all the sounds. Look at you. You’re stuck back then and you can’t escape.

Because you’re in my memory and you’re not here.

Don’t drag me down with you.

I’m sorry.

But I can’t think about you anymore, you know?

I really can’t.

I can keep trying to romanticize the past but it’s killing me slowly and I can’t romanticize you any longer because it’s all I can think about and I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating from the thoughts of you and your smile that I can’t seem to remember. I hate that I can’t remember. I should have made you smile. Is it my fault that I can’t remember or my fault that I could never make you smile and that’s why I can’t remember?

Fuck.

I miss you.

I am sorry.

It means nothing now but I don’t know what else to say.

And I know I’m making a mistake. This that I’m chasing now, this is a distraction. You know all about those. I know you do, because you had a lot of hobbies and they were all distractions. I remember those at least. You had your nose in books. You drew a lot. You collected Pokémon cards and hid them in tins in the back of your closet. Yeah. I remember that too.

I know it’s mean of me, but he’s a distraction.

He’s a distraction from you and those memories.

I’m going to kiss him.

And I’m going to forget about you.

I feel guilty.

I thought about you when my lips touched hers.

It was right before she was about to go up to her apartment building. Weirdly cold tonight once again. I could see my breath in the air, right between us. She said it would be a god night for ramyeon. I thought that was funny. I said that she should come over and eat ramyeon.

She just smiled at me and tucked her hands in her pockets.

I thought, ah, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn’t that close the other night. Maybe even though I wanted to kiss her, she didn’t want to kiss me because I wasn’t important enough. Maybe she was sure even though I wasn’t. Is that what being an adult means? I wondered.

But then she stepped a little closer.

I could see my breath in the air, white and foggy, right between us.

She said to me, “I’m going to kiss you.”

I thought about you and then her lips pressed to mine.

They were soft.

She sighed a little and I could taste her breath, sweet and warm.

I feel guilty, because I wasn’t sure, but it still felt nice. I still wanted it. Maybe it was a mistake.

Maybe, but it was a beautiful one.

It’s okay to make mistakes though, isn’t it? I think you would say so. You made a lot of them. Well, that was what being young was about. You used to beat yourself up over them. I wish I could tell you not to do that, but you were really stubborn and you probably wouldn’t listen. You used to think, “When I’m an adult, I won’t make mistakes.”

Maybe that means I’m not an adult yet, because this is probably a mistake.

But.

I want to kiss her again.

I did it.

I kissed him.

He liked it. I’m pretty sure. When I backed up, he had a dropped jaw and big wide eyes. It was kind of funny. Almost like a kid. But that’s okay. It’s no fun being an adult. You understood that, even back then. Even in blue moods and grey days, you didn’t think that being an adult would make it better.

So, when he looked at me with those big round eyes and parted lips, I thought, maybe, maybe you wouldn’t say it’s a mistake.

Maybe.

I thought about taking him up on his offer. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what that not-so-subtle “come over and eat ramyeon” meant. Heh. I thought about it.

But then I thought about you, even though I didn’t mean to.

Maybe you wouldn’t say it’s a mistake, but.

You would shake your head at me, for sure. You would say, don’t.

So, I just kissed him and left him there.

And now I’m here, wondering if I should have just ignored the thought of you. I’m mad at you. I hate you sometimes. But I miss you. I wish I could erase you, because then it wouldn’t hurt as much.

And anyway.

You can’t erase your past.

I wonder if he was happy that I kissed him. Maybe. I feel like he might like that kind of thing. He always reminds me it’s not safe to walk alone. I always tell him it’s a short walk, but he reminds me that he lives only a few blocks away and it’s not a big deal. I let him walk me home, because sometimes I can forget about you when I’m focused on someone else. We don’t always talk, but he’s there. I think he gets off work a little earlier than me, but he always waits.

He waits for me, like the future.

He probably only wants to get laid.

Well, that’s okay too. If he wants me to be his distraction, then maybe he can be mine, even if only for a short while. Maybe he can help me forget about you and I don’t have to miss you anymore.

He had a nice kiss. Soft, with a little gasp, like he was trying to breathe me in.

I want to kiss him again and forget about you.

Do you remember the first time someone held your hand?

She held my hand.

It was very quick. I was fixing the earbud in my ear and then I felt her hand close around my wrist, slipping down because she was walking around me, tugging me into the convenience store. She was saying something about how me mentioning ramyeon the other night reminded her she was almost out, but I didn’t catch all of it.

I was too busy realizing how cold my hand was and how warm hers was.

It’s still cold these days, especially when the sun sets. The day is okay, but I still have to bring my coat to work because I wait for her to get out so I can walk her home.

Anyway, she let go once I started following.

It feels weird telling you this. Maybe you don’t want to hear it. But I was reminded of you.

The radio station was playing an old song. You know, the one that was super popular in middle school and they had to ban it during exams. Haha, yeah, that one. I recognized it right away. She recognized it too and started singing along. Then she noticed that I noticed and I think she got embarrassed.

But.

You know how in the movies, there’s that moment?

I think today was like that.

Because I started singing too and she started backing up really fast and dashing around the aisles and I was following her around and I started dancing as she ran and she was laughing and, I don’t know, it reminded me of you and back then. It was dumb and didn’t really make sense, but that’s how it was back then, wasn’t it? Moments of pure joy, unblemished. We got yelled at and we were told to get out. She didn’t even get to buy any ramyeon. Still, we rushed out and she was laughing and I was laughing too.

It reminded me of you and back then.

But this was different.

She smiled up at me and I kissed her, just like that. I wouldn’t have done that, back then. But I did it without thinking and it felt like the thing to do, because she kissed me the other night and I…

I wanted her to know that I wanted to kiss her too.

It was really nice.

Better than any kiss you had, I know.

If I close my eyes right now, I can still see the way her eyes opened slowly. The way golden hour lit up her face, the way the cold turned her cheeks pink, the way her lips parted.

The way she looked at me.

It reminds me of back then, of you and your innocence.

I miss you.

It’s too fucking cold. Isn’t spring supposed to be coming soon? Why is it so fucking cold?

Hah.

I think I’ve done it now.

I didn’t really mean to. It just kind of happened. Him and I, we were in front of the apartment building and I think he meant to lean forward and give me a good night kiss and, I don’t know why, I just… I just grabbed him by the shirt. Yanked him close.

You used to do things like that too.

I don’t want to be like you, but.

I looked up at him and he seemed surprised, but his arms wrapped around me. I could see his breath when we were that close. He was wearing a big fluffy white coat. It made him look like a cloud. Or a bunny.

I asked him if he would come up with me.

I don’t know why I thought he would say no. He was already holding me. I guess you always prepared me for failure and rejection. That was your specialty, always finding for rock bottom.

That moment seemed like forever, but it was a warm forever of soft breath and that fluffy coat.

He said that he would accompany me upstairs.

I don’t know why I thought he would disappear if I didn’t hold his hand.

It might have been a mistake, but. It didn’t really feel like one. Maybe that’s how beautiful mistakes are. I didn’t even turn on the light. We were in the dark when the front door closed. I pushed him against the wall and slipped my hands under that fluffy coat to that orange shirt. I was surprised. He has a manly body under that cute face.

In the dark, I leaned forward to kiss him but my lips were against his neck and I kissed his throat instead.

He moaned.

I thought about you, but this was different.

I could smell him, I could feel him, and I thought about you, and I thought I would be upset or maybe even afraid, but he was holding me and my lips were pressed against his skin, and I forgot to be upset or afraid.

He smelled nice.

Tasted nice too.

I said I can’t think about you, but I might have been wrong. Because I thought about you and I kept going, kept kissing him and holding him in the dark. Felt his lip ring against my cheek and his gasp against my lips when my fingers touched his waist and gripped his shirt tight. I asked him if he felt good, if it felt nice to be this close, told him I wanted to see if he still felt that way when we were alone and no one was looking.

He said he still felt the same even though no one was looking.

It’s so cold outside after the sun goes down, but, in that moment in the dark, it was warm in his fluffy coat and his arms around me. It didn’t even bother me that it didn’t go further than that. I told him he should go home before it got too cold. Kissed him before I let him go, reminded him that he had to walk me home tomorrow too.

He seemed happy.

I like his smile. There’s a small mole under his lips. It gives him an innocent look.

I’m sorry I said I can’t think about you.

I miss you.

Wow.

The way she tasted.

I think I’ll remember that taste forever.

I fucked up.

How did I fuck up so bad?

Ugh, I’m so stupid.

Let’s call a spade a spade. I fucked him in attempt to forget about you. I fucked him because I miss you, because I hate you, because I am nothing without you and he is collateral in this fucked-up mess, which makes me a shit person.

I fucked him and it felt good.

Better than good. Was fantastic. Yeah, you heard me. And I don’t care either, I don’t care that I liked it, I don’t care that he took me out to dinner and I paid for his drinks knowing full well what I was doing, knowing that I went to work in a sexy dress on purpose, knowing that he would say yes at my front door the second I asked him if he wanted to come in. I see the way he looks at me.

I can pretend I didn’t but you know me. I’m no liar.

I knew what I was doing.

I know what I’m doing and it’s awful.

Fuck.

His hands on my face. That little smile. He way he pauses a little bit before kissing me. I can taste it, his excitement when I reciprocate. I come on strong and he likes it, either because he likes that kind of attention or because he likes being wanted. Doesn’t matter. I’m doing this to forget about your effect on me. I touch his face and trail my fingers down his chest to forget how you have a chokehold on my mind. I unbutton his floaty black and white dress shirt to forget how you know everything about me and see right through me. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, make him moan, trace his muscles with my fingertips and feel his heartbeat at the tip of my touch to forget all about how you keep me dead when I’m supposed to be alive.

He tastes good.

Like innocence and a desire to be loved.

I hate how I’m like this, but I can’t stop. I was only going to touch him a little, maybe just frustrate him and back off. Take it slow. Promises for next time and all that shit. Ugh.

God, I’m so full of it.

His hands drifted down to the hem of my dress and what did I do? Shove my right leg between his and hook my left around his hips and grind on his jean-covered thigh. Right. That’s taking it slow. Yup. Of course, he took it as a sign to yank up my dress. Wasn’t like my hands pushing his dress shirt off his shoulders giving him any other choice. I shouldn’t have taken it so far. He would have stopped if I said so. He would have listened if I put up the red light.

Should have put up the damn red light.

Instead, I took off his clothes and he took off mine and I found myself halfway crawling up my own apartment wall with my legs on his shoulders and his mouth on my pussy with those big brown eyes staring up at me.

Jeez.

What am I doing?

I even had the gall to send him back home after fucking him on my own bed. Couldn’t even think about waking up next to him in the morning. That’s well and truly fucked, isn’t it?

The way he looked at me.

Don’t look at me like that.

Don’t look at this black hole with stars in your eyes, because all I’ll do is suck them into this darkness and kill them, leaving nothing left of you, and that’s unfair for someone like you.

It is.

And yet you walked me home today, asking if I was busy this weekend.

And, like an idiot, I said I wasn’t.

I wanted to write this down because I wanted to remember.

She said something to me as we sat on her bed, right before the first time. She had turned her bedside lamp on. One of those silicone touch ones in the shape of a round cat. The color it was set on – red. I remember because when she sat in my lap and stared into my eyes, the red shadows between us were so… sensual. Alluring. Erotic. I don’t know. There’s probably a sexier way to say it.

But anyway, she whispered against my lips and looked into my eyes.

“The stars in the sky are already dead.”

I remember being confused.

“The stars in the sky. The light you see from the stars is already dead by the time you see them.”

I think I remember reading that in a book. Or maybe in class when I was in high school or something. I was never good at astronomy. I should have asked you to pay more attention for me. Then she said…

“But the stars are in your eyes.”

I remember looking into her eyes and seeing mine reflected in them.

When she said that and when I saw myself in her eyes, I realized I felt something that I’ve never felt before. Her warm breath drifted over my lips, a weird feeling prickling all over my skin, her fingers caressing my cheeks, and, I knew, this was a moment.

From her to me, a moment.

“The light I see in you is right here, right now, and it is alive.”

No one has ever said anything like that to me.

Never.

I wanted to remember it, so I wrote it down here.

I wish I said something just as beautiful back to her, but I couldn’t think of anything then. I could have asked her to explore the stars. I could have said that the stars weren’t there until I looked at her. I could have said she’s the whole galaxy and I’m only a small cluster of stars in her vast galaxy.

But I didn’t.

I hope she could tell how happy I was just looking into her beautiful eyes.

I need to tell him the truth.

He’s sleeping in my bed and I need to tell him the truth but instead I’m writing to you because I’m too fucked up to say anything when I need to say something, because I’m sad and lonely and dead inside knowing that I failed you and I wasn’t better and I couldn’t be strong enough to make sure you were okay, because I am the worst, the worst, the worst.

It’s supposed to be spring.

It’s still so cold.

There’s something about her.

I don’t think you would like her, mostly because she knows who she is and because you don’t. You’re insecure and you look up to others to secure you and tell you where to go and what to do. It’s because you were afraid to live life, lest you do it wrong or imperfectly.

But.

There is no such thing as wrong or imperfect when it comes to life, is there?

I can feel it.

The way she keeps me as close as she can, but I look up and there’s still a shrouded sky with snow falling even though it’s supposed to be spring. We’re close and yet the sky remains dark, the clouds stay gray, and I can see my breath. Life is supposed to be growing. Instead, there’s soft white flakes floating down and it’s cold.

And yet.

It’s beautiful.

She’s beautiful to me.

I wish I knew a pretty way to tell her that, like how she said my eyes were full of stars.

---

The moment in life where everything changed was when you read those words.

You wished you could say that you didn't read them. That you were polite, kind, and respected his privacy. That you were fast asleep beside him in this bed of yours, a place where you had nightmares or, worse, hopeful dreams that shattered every morning as you were forced to face reality. Dreams where you felt fully and completely alive, only to wake up and realize it was all a lie.

But, no.

You were awake.

Sometimes being asleep was the true torture.

You turned the page, going backwards in time.

I wanted to write this down because I wanted to remember.

The little book had fallen out of his jacket. A plain black notebook with a leather-texture hardcover and scribbles in it. Pocket-sized. There was an elastic strap that was meant to go around the book and hold it shut, but it hadn't been put back on properly, causing the pages to fall open and land on where the ribbon bookmark had been placed.

You read the entry.

He had nice handwriting. Clean. Neat. Thoughtful. Your original guess was that this notebook was for his work. Notes into his creativity, perhaps? He did video editing for a living, he said. Maybe it was a planner to organize his days. Or ideas for projects he wanted to pursue on his own. A brainstorming space.

You turned the page.

Beside you, his body moved, restless. You wondered if he would wake up, but instead he threw an arm around your waist and continued sleeping, his breathing long and steady.

You read the entry.

Wow.

It was very short.

This little book was none of the things you thought it was. It was something else, something you could scarcely even believe at first, something that made your heart stop, and that wasn't because those words were about you.

It was because the entries were letters.

All of them.

All letters, addressed to the same person, the same individual, over and over again. Some long, some short. Some vague nonsense, some intimately revealing. All for one person.

Not you.

No.

You couldn't believe it.

It was so surreal that you read the addressee twice. Three times. Not because you thought it was strange or crazy.

No.

Because you understood.

To young Jeon Jungkook.

Mechanically, you reached over to the side of your bed, the pocket between the mattress and bedframe, and pulled out a small, slightly squashed, black leather soft-cover notebook. Thinner and longer than his, but similar enough.

You opened to the ribbon bookmark.

To young me, I miss you.

You understood these letters all too well.

He was just a big kid, that Jeon Jungkook. Tattooed because people told him not to. Pierced because people told him not to. Not in the spotlight because people told him he totally had the face for it. No, no, Jeon Jungkook didn’t like all these people telling him he should do this or that. He wanted to do only what he wanted to do. Stubborn and defiant, sticking his spoon into his ice cream covered in too many toppings, maybe more garnishes than chocolate ice cream, having the cold sweet even on the cold night, all because he wanted to.

“What is it that you want to do?” you had asked him.

He shoved he spoon into his mouth and shrugged.

But you could see it in those big brown eyes. The uncertainty, the fear, the maybe despite my desire to be myself I’m just like everyone else, the maybe I will never know, the and if I don’t, am I stuck like the rest of them? The questions that came, and perhaps that was youth, that was becoming an adult, that was the beautiful blunders that became the formation of life.

You sipped your hot chocolate, the lingering taste of peppermint trapped in the liquid even though Christmas was long over. You had asked for it and the employee had given you a weird look.

“Upset stomach,” you lied. A flimsy explanation to make the weird look go away.

“Can I have a sip of your hot chocolate?” Jungkook now asked.

You handed it to him and he drank a bit, his face fluttering with comfort.

“You’re gonna ruin your digestion going from cold to hot like that,” you commented.

“Yeah, my mom always tells me that, but I’m still eating, right?”

He grinned, all mischief, silver ring at the edge, and underneath pink lips and white teeth he was blessed with a dot of dark perfect imperfection.

You held your hand out.

Jungkook was about to give your to-go cup back, but then he darted forward, placing a light kiss on the opening. Then he handed it back to you, still smiling.

You raised your eyebrows and continued sipping at the hot liquid.

He continued eating his ice cream, scooting closer to you on the public bench. You didn’t move away. It was cold at night, even now. Supposed to be spring already, a time for rain and sun and blooming flowers, but it was cold and biting, reminding everyone winter hadn’t yet gone away.

“When do you think a spring day will come?” Jungkook murmured between enormous bites of ice cream.

“I don’t know, but I know the weather forecasters will probably be wrong,” you answered dryly.

She said to his lips, “I missed you.”

It was so soft and so quiet that he almost didn’t hear it, but he felt the words being formed, her lips brushing against his and then the fervent press of forget what I said to his lips, her hands framing his jaw and up into his hair, long delicate fingers twisting into the strands. The ghost of sweetness between their tongues, a shared taste, and those words flowed into the thoughts that became one with his own, as if he himself said them, I missed you, because he did.

He did.

Jeon Jungkook couldn’t explain it, but he wished he could.

He reached up himself and mirrored her touch, across the jaw and up to the temple, his fingers in her hair, strands curling in his hold and he wished this moment was as permanent as the tattoos inked to skin, maybe not her if that wasn’t what she wanted, but at least this feeling. This feeling. Something he knew he couldn’t get again. Maybe that was because this was him now and this was her now, lips to lips and the fire between them, but he wished, he wished to keep this feeling in his memory, wished to make it last forever.

He wished, he wished he could tell young Jungkook, cherish it, all those days back then, don’t go chasing for what becoming an adult means, because it means being lost and sad and lonely.

But he couldn’t.

She tilted her head, traced his lips with her tongue, and Jungkook shuddered.

He wished, he wished he could say, please stay with me, please stay a little longer with me, I am not perfect but I swear there is something here, in your taste and in my heart, and, if I am your mistake, please let me stay your mistake a little longer, but they were such ugly words, such horrible words, and he couldn’t say it, no, because… what if he was right?

What if he truly was her mistake?

She took his jacket off, pulled up his turtleneck, and he pushed down her furry coat, slowly undoing the laces at the collar of her dress, exposing skin to his searching fingertips.

What started as recklessness continued to be recklessness. Perhaps it was his fault, believing in nothing, or it was really there, the something, kisses again, his jacket falling to the floor, a thunk and Jungkook vaguely registered the little black book falling out of his jacket again, but he paid it no mind, remembering she had found it but left it on top of his folded clothes, making breakfast as he slowly woke up, smelling eggs and fragrant oil.

He had glanced at his journal, the elastic over the front cover, resting on top of his folded clothes.

Jungkook thought he would feel panic, fear, embarrassment.

But then he realized he didn’t care.

He never had the perfect words, but the ones written in there were his honest ones. Ones of that moment, and if she read them, then she read his honest words and not some dressed-up version in some vain attempt to make himself better than he was.

He wondered if she did, but she simply greeted him like normal, chuckling at his messy hair and running her fingers through it, telling him to hurry and eat so he could get back to his place and change, otherwise his co-workers would think he’s dirty for wearing the same clothes over again.

So Jungkook let the notebook fall, knowing the elastic wasn’t all the way on, forgetting all about it to tangle himself in that touch, that skin, that scent. Exploring tongue following dancing fingers, and he could feel it sear across his skin, inexplicable but undeniable, like the feeling one got from looking up to a black sky and falling white snow, on the cusp of sad but it was just so beautiful, so beautiful, so he couldn’t bring himself to be sad.

She was a scriptwriter, she said.

Her specialty was dialogue.

But Jungkook found she spoke to him the loudest like this, in the form of trailing kisses and soft breath over his chest, kissing the mole on the right side of his ribcage, this silent dialogue so real and so raw that even even though he had no idea what they meant, he believed in them. Every spoken word had intent behind it, intentional or not, but this, this was pure on a different level, pure as her tongue drawing down the center of his abdomen, creating a wet line, half-lidded, sultry eyes peering up at him.

This was the present, without the weight of the past.

And the past weighed heavily on those that held onto it, I miss you, young him, at first oblivious everyone’s expectations, I miss you, young him, foolishly believing everyone had the best intentions for him, I miss you, young him, running and weighed down with expectations. Thinking that he was chained but that when he was adult he would have freedom, except he got older and he still felt chained, so did that mean he was still young or did that mean that he was now an adult and this was everyone’s fate?

Jungkook had these thoughts when he was alone, but not here.

Not here, not within the confines of hands fanning over his thighs, tongue to taut skin, in her eyes glittering in the low light. Like snow from a black sky, but he was comforted and then elated, radiating bliss mounting his senses, skillful tongue sliding down his length and his hands gripping the sheets, memorizing the lush quality of the fabric, memorizing the way his nerves seemed to shimmer and brim with so much pleasure that it was nearly unbearable. Every detail precious – the wet, the pressure, the depth, controlled tightness. Saliva dripping down his balls and then quickly lapped up, sending a spark up his spine, a strangely playful sensation he came to crave and it happened again, jarring and gratifying him, like hot chocolate between bites of ice cream, sweet on sweet.

Something out of nothing.

Black sky full of falling white flakes.

He should be afraid, he should be hesitating, he should be chained by the past, but he was free, free here in the moment of erotic high and in those eyes in the low light. Glittering amusement in those irises, something out of nothing, or something out of…

She crawled back up his body, her dress on the floor, and kissed him, salty, but to him it was sweet.

Something out of something?

Maybe.

How long will you punish yourself for something you didn’t do?

Sometimes you thought about writing down that question, but it was too honest and your pen would pause every time, poised to make the strokes, and you didn’t. It was too honest. You kept thinking, I’m not ready, but that was an excuse just like any other, as if you would ever be ready, as if you would ever know, all this time chasing for that one you should have loved when it counted, but you didn’t. You didn’t, and now you were sorry.

Sorry.

So pointless to be sorry, the maybe if I, the it could have been better if I, the if only I just, who cares, who cares, who cares. This kind of thinking was just as much a broken home as it was back then, these thoughts like closed shutters to keep out the light, forever in winter because you never dared to look out and find summer. A prison of the past you built to hold in the fragile young you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, tried to embellish the past and make it as pretty as it was tragic, all to try and erase the fact that you were holding onto nothing.

In this decrepit broken home of your thoughts, apologizing to the past. Writing letters to the one that always ran from, to the one you hated for making you into what you were now, to the one that never tried to appreciate what little good there was because it was always easier to believe everything was bad. Easier to think that, when you were an adult, you could make it all go away.

But it just wasn’t true.

I’m sorry, young me.

The sky was still black and the snow still fell and the spring day never came.

I don’t really think I’m an adult, but I do miss you and I do think about back then.

He was just a big kid, that Jeon Jungkook.

You closed your eyes and inhaled, the soft, clean scent mixed with sex, slipping into the sensation of being filled, easy after his fingers and the lingering buzz of his kiss. A heavy weight, and you should have felt crushed, suffocated, caged, but you were so used to the broken home of your thoughts that this felt like freedom, like a hopeful dream that couldn’t be broken by reality.

Because you opened your eyes and there was Jeon Jungkook.

His teeth were sunk into his lower lip, and he was struggling not to be overwhelmed. The mole underneath bobbing uneasily, silver lip ring quivering, and you clenched around his hard cock, making him flinch and frown at you, his eyes connecting with yours.

His eyes glittering in the low light. Stars. And the ones in the sky were dead, but these were lit by the fire within, lit by a past determined to feel the present even more, and your lips parted to take a breath.

There was none to be taken.

Jungkook breathed out your name.

If the sky was black and too covered with gray clouds of falling snowflakes, well, then maybe the stars could be right beside you.

You whispered his name in the dark.

It was like he was catching snowflakes on his cheeks, his expression melting with your reply, his face flushing pink, and you gripped your thighs, lifting them up. He got the hint, moving his arms and then your legs were on his shoulders. Slow. You smacked your hips up to deepen his thrust, earning another frown and furrowed brow, greeting it with your smile.

This should make you feel fake. This should make you feel wrong, like you were using him to distract from something bigger, but somehow it didn’t, and that was so strange, because you were pretty sure that was what this was, right, but then his words came back to you, I miss you, written in those tight scribbles, I hope she could tell how happy I was just looking into her beautiful eyes, and you looked into his eyes now, shortened breath, shivering from pleasure, racing heartbeat leaping to your throat and Jungkook noticed your gaze, shaking his head like a dog to brush the black hair out of his eyes so he could look back, his shaking exhale matching yours, warmth drifting between you and him.

And it was true.

You were afraid to leave the broken home of your thoughts, because what if it was worse out there?

He searched your eyes.

You let him, not knowing what he was searching for.

He lowered slightly, changing the angle. Deeper, his dark brown irises catching the light, glittering, alive stars, these not light-years away, but right there, right there, and you reached out to touch, your fingertips ghosting his cheek and jaw, his low moan cutting through the haze of the high, your hand reaching back and clutching his hair, tugging lightly. His eyes closing, lashes fluttering, harder, faster, your hips rising, tighter, more resistance, increased depth and intensity, Jungkook, his name leaving your lips again and he shuddered, spellbound by your voice, his tongue flicking against the top half of his lower lip, struggling to open his eyes again but the weight of lust kept them half-lidded, so close, fluttering breath, almost, holding him back with another tug of his hair, letting your tongue trace the inside of your open lips.

There.

It ate you up so fast, so fast, a whirlwind of compounded sensation and sparks shooting down to your core and vicious throbs sinking into your hips, gasping as you came around his jerking cock, ecstasy unbound, his own moan in an arc, his head tipped back to the ceiling, your hand still in his hair, him burying deep into constricting wet warmth and succumbing to it, his shivers traveling from his chest to your thighs, and you felt your eyes closing, lost in the reality and being okay with it.

I miss you.

For once, these words were not directed at your past self.

You drew a breath, your hand in his hot, sweaty hair, and you missed Jungkook already even though he wasn’t gone.

“I read it.”

You admitted it plainly, clearly.

His little black book between you two, you wrapped in a blanket and him wrapped in another, staring down at it.

Jungkook nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

It sounded defeatist.

“You think I’m a weirdo, huh?” he mumbled softly, pulling the blanket around him tighter.

You reached to the side of the bed, in between the mattress and the bedframe and smacked down your own black, leather-bound notebook.

“That makes two of us.”

His eyes widened, and he stared down at it as you pushed it to him, your hand on top of it, determined, because it was time. You spent enough time being a coward. No more, firmly pinning your notebook in front of Jeon Jungkook, I fill my days with the way it was, and I fill my nights with broken dreams, and if this was it, if you were the broken dream, then he deserved to know how broken, he derserved your honesty, and you thought you would be afraid, and yet…

Jungkook lifted his head and stared at you.

You weren’t.

He shook his head.

“Not today.”

You blinked at him.

He looked back down at your notebook and the blanket opened, his larger, tattooed hand reaching out, placing his hand over yours. A weight but somehow not heavy.

“I will read it if you want me to read it,” he said, and he lifted his head, breathing out slowly, holding your hand tighter, and you could see he was waiting for you to run, waiting for you melt and disappear into nothing. As if he was trying to grasp a snowflake. “But… I don’t want you to think you have to show me just because you read mine.” He smiled, rueful and sheepish. “Actually, I wanted you to read my journal. I hoped you would, so I kept leaving it open and letting it fall out. I was too nervous to… I kept trying to think of the right words to…” He shook his head rapidly, lost even now. “But they sounded insincere. I like you so much and if only I was enough…”

You laughed dryly and Jungkook looked up, confused.

“That’s why you should read my musings,” you countered. “Because we are one and the same, Jeon Jungkook.”

You lifted your hand and took your notebook, placing it into his lap, closing his hand over it.

“Both held down by an idea in the past, because that’s all it is, you know,” you shivered, keeping his hand over the soft leather cover. “I thought, if only, if only, if only, if I changed this or that, if I tried a little harder, if I hadn’t been so focused on becoming an adult, if I loved myself a little more, then maybe young me wouldn’t have been so miserable, maybe young me wouldn’t have let so many people walk over her, maybe the me of now wouldn’t be stuck and haunted by what it was, so I could…”

You suddenly realized you were staring into his eyes, running your mouth.

Stars.

Not light-years away.

Right here.

Be honest.

“I let her get hurt, no, I hurt my younger self on purpose, because I wasn’t brave enough to believe I had a future.”

The stars looked back, and they burned bright.

“I let everyone else decide my life and when I realized I no longer had control of my future, I ran away and became a nobody,” he breathed, and you could hear the guilt, the weight of having let them all down. “I was too scared to speak up for myself, because I couldn’t trust my own dedication when everyone else had always so confidently made choices for me.” His tone stricken, torn between the possibility of him being ungrateful or worse, selfish. “I pretended like it wasn’t happening and continued acting like a kid without responsibilities until it all fell apart and I had to choose.”

It was almost shameful, saying it out loud.

“I sometimes miss who I was back then,” you mumbled, distorted, feeling weak for saying so. “Even if it was the worst… I was a kid, and I could forgive myself for not knowing who I was, but now I’m an adult and I still don’t know.”

You looked up and Jungkook was looking back. It was like two lights meeting in the darkness. No. It was like...

Like snow falling from a black sky.

Jungkook gazed into her eyes and the spring day was already here.

The rare snow in spring, right here, in front of his eyes and holding his hand, and he realized that didn’t mean that winter clung on. This was something new, something unique, something he would regret to forget, so he turned his hand around and held hers, her book pressed to his thigh.

“I used to think I wanted to go back to the way it was,” he said softly. “But I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

Her expression softened.

“Why?”

So small but with so much emotion behind the simple question. An intricate snowflake tumbling down, down.

“I wouldn’t have met you.”

He grinned, and he knew for sure now, that he believed in this.

“Life is so much more fun with you in it.”

He moved the books aside, the past in the past, and closed the distance between them, blanket to blanket, wrapping his around hers, insistently nudging her into his lap, and she resisted, albeit weakly, since it seemed that she couldn’t quite look him in the face, tucking her head under his chin, saying nothing.

But then her lips brushed against his skin, right by his collarbone.

“Don’t make me miss you,” she whispered.

He didn’t have to think twice, kissing the top of her head.

“I won’t.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

232 notes · View notes

skulls-soul · 1 month

Text

Have a bowuigi/Booigi writing prompt based off of this TikTok

Just imagine, when Luigi first finds out that he has feelings for a certain villain he’s absolutely freaking out because there’s no way in all of the stars in the universe Could he ever tell anybody this, especially the villain themselves?

Bowser is in love with Princess peach or/and king boo absolutely despise him

Imagine when Luigi first finds out or is diagnosed with hantaki it’s during the summer time so the pain is bad, tho not the worse it can be it’s difficult to conceal especially in the beginning

At some point he get used to the pain and when fall or winter came around it became a lot more manageable. Now don’t get him wrong coughing up flowers is never not gonna hurt, but after so long, it becomes more of an inconvenience.

imagine when Mario finds out, he’s utterly baffled at him by Luigi‘s refusal to Express who his feelings are for and how anyone could not like his brother back like come on!…it’s luigi!! Anyone would be lucky to have him!!

Imagine if every spring Mario is yelling and demanding to know who his crush is (just for a small chat with them), and why they haven’t confessed or anything like that, and Luigi is just hacking up a floral storm

I haven’t even gotten to the part in where Bowser’s or king boo finally find out about Luigis condition!!!

For the sake of happy endings, and because it’s my favorite scenario, let’s say Bowser/king boo already have predestined feelings for luigi

I imagine that if Bowser finds out he gets furious, because who the hell would dare reject one of his crushes (note Bowser has a crush on both Peach and luigi)

I can imagine him just violently, trying to shake the information out of Luigi on who he has feelings for. everybody’s confused in Way Bowser’s is so concerned and so upset, and Bowser tries playing it off as being a hopeless, romantic nobody buys it and so Bowser reluctant Lee costs up two different colored petals one pink with the tip yellow and the other mostly white with tip being green

~Oooh the drama~

When king boo finds out, I imagine that it’s during a paird racing competition

Luigi and king boo end up being paired, while during an intermission, king boo, can hear Luigi coughing violently into a trashcan. Once Luigi steps away, king boo glances inside only to find an entire purple rose inside speckled in red (this is around springtime, so luigi not having a fun time)

KB is just baffled and is utterly panicked because the man that he’s been trying to win over is in love with someone that doesn’t recuperate his feelings (that’s not how it works) and now he’s upset because his arch nemesis/love of his life I didn’t tell him

KB confronts Luigi with this, and Luigi, tries his best to ignore them by focusing on the race Especially when he’s the one on the weel

Until he isn’t

Will he confesses?

Or will he live his life in pain

Will he risk heart break?

Humiliation?

Who knows?

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝑭𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑴 𝑰𝑵 𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹

pairing: modern!din djarin x f!reader

genre: romance, holiday fic, flowershop au, fluff

word count: 5.4k

summary: A spiteful coworker ruins the flower arrangements you had hoped to compete with. Not knowing what can be done, you entertain a young boy named Grogu who comes in at the same time wanting to buy a bouquet for his father. The next day, Din returns and offers to help you out with your work until a competition. However, he is a bit awkward and clumsy when it comes to love.

warnings: single dad!din, grogu being adorable, so much fluff, me trying to figure out what's it like working at a flower shop

a/n: this is my secret santa gift for @writeforfandoms ! thank you to @pedrostories who hosted the event, I had a blast writing this and I hope you enjoy, happy holidays! ♡♡♡

my prompt was; something soft and sweet - a holiday meet cute, or a holiday date.

You approach the flower shop you work a with a pep in your step. You can see that the windows are decorated with festive wreaths and garlands. The cold winter air nips at your nose as you push open the door, and you're greeted by a warm, cozy atmosphere inside. The shop is filled with the fragrant scent of pine and holly, and there are all sorts of beautiful holiday arrangements on display. You see poinsettias in every shade of red and green, as well as colorful bouquets of winter flowers like amaryllis and paperwhites. you can't help but feel a sense of cheer and joy in the midst of the cold winter season.

You walk to the back, especially excited to see the holiday arrangements you made for the holiday flower show. You’ve been working on them day and night the past week, honestly, you were kind of proud of them. They truly turned out beautiful, even Cassian himself had said so, and he was one of the best in the business.

With a shudder, you remove your coat and beanie, and you feel a sense of dread wash over you. With horror, you notice that the room is in complete disarray, with flowers and foliage scattered everywhere. You can hardly believe your eyes as you take in the destruction of your beloved arrangements.

The once beautiful display is now a colorful mess. You feel a wave of emotions wash over you - shock, sadness, and anger. The once vibrant and carefully arranged flowers are now a jumbled mess, with petals crushed underfoot and broken stems lying haphazardly on the ground. Your heart sinks as you survey the damage. Kneeling down, you touch the white and pink petals, they’re soft, feeling like silk against your fingertips.

As you begin to pick up the scattered petals and broken stems, your heart feels heavy. You had put so much time and effort into creating these arrangements, and now they were ruined. As you work to clean up the mess, you try to focus on the task at hand, but your mind keeps drifting back to the destruction.

You know who’d done it of course. Only three people worked here after all; you, your boss —Cassian, who was out during the time of the crime— and your coworker. Claire. She hated your guts from the start, and her grievances simmered like a fine winter stew each day you worked together. It was her doing. You are sure of it.

You’ve been waiting to join the show for a good while now. The years before you were either too busy or something came up; last year, during New Year’s you had promised yourself that you would join but apparently, that wish of yours isn’t going to happen.

You hear soft footsteps, knowing who it is, you don’t look up and scoop up the last remnants of the ripped petals.

“What happened?” Cassian asks, looking down at the mess. “I was out only for an hour,”

You scoff, hiding your disappointment by looking down at your hands, “What do you think happened?”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“Don’t bother— If you’re not going to fire her, there’s no point in talking.”

The silence that follows is louder than words. You can’t really blame him for not firing her. Firing Claire meant that her father took away the money he poured into the shop thanks to her daughter working here.

You understand Cassian's predicament, but it doesn't make the situation any easier for you. You feel betrayed and hurt that she would go to such extremes, and it's hard to shake the feeling.

"I'm so sorry," Cassian says, kneeling down next to you. "I had no idea she would do something like this. I'll make it right, I promise."

You shake your head, feeling defeated. "I don't know how you can make this right. The show is in a few days, and all my arrangements are ruined. I won't have time to start over."

"I'll help you," Cassian offers. "We'll work together and create new arrangements. I know it won't be easy, but… We can manage to do this."

You look at Cassian, feeling touched by his words. You appreciate the offer, but you just can't bring yourself to accept it. Your mood has been ruined, and you don't feel up to working on anything new. You shake your head and try to smile, hoping that Cassian will understand.

As you continue to clean up the mess of your destroyed flower arrangements, you hear the sound of the shop's door opening. You look up to see a young boy walking in, a bright smile on his face as he looks around at the various flowers and plants. He must be about five or six years old.

You can't help but smile back at the curious little boy, noting the small patch of green hair peeking out from under his dark brown locks. He looks full of energy and enthusiasm, and you feel a sense of warmth toward him.

"Hello there," you say, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite the frustration you're feeling. "Welcome to the shop. Do you need any help? Are you here alone?”

The boy looks up at you, a sheepish expression on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any trouble," he says. "My dad is just next door at the coffee shop. He said I could come in and take a look around while he finishes ordering."

You’re relieved that the boy isn’t completely alone. "Oh, that's alright," you say with a smile.

The boy looks up at you, his big brown eyes shining with excitement. "I'm looking for a special flower for my dad," he says. “A lot of’em.”

You can't help but feel touched by the boy's thoughtfulness. “So, a bouquet then?” you look fondly at Cassian who nods and smiles.

“What’s your name?” he asks slightly kneeling forward.

“Grogu,”

“Alright then Grogu, follow us. We’ll make sure you have something special for your dad,”

You and Grogu browse the selection of flowers and plants, and you chat about what kind of bouquet would be perfect for his father. You ask about his family, and Grogu tells you that he doesn’t have a mom, your heart breaks at his tone. You can see the sadness in his eyes but don’t pry further.

Just then, Cassian's phone rings and he excuses himself to take the call. You and Grogu are left alone to continue your flower shopping. Despite the unexpected turn of events, you’re grateful for the chance to spend some quality time with little Grogu. You both continue to chat and browse the selection of plants, getting to know each other better as you go.

As you talk, you’re drawn to the boy's infectious curiosity and enthusiasm. He's full of questions about the different flowers and plants, and you find yourself laughing at his adorable observations.

"Hey, do you think this flower looks like a ballerina?" Grogu asks, pointing to a delicate pink rose.

You can't help but chuckle at the comparison. "I can see it now," you say with a smile. "A little ballerina flower twirling amongst the other blooms."

Grogu giggles, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Yeah, and I bet she's a really good dancer too!" he says.

He's such a sweet and lovable little guy. He’s a little spark of joy after the morning you had.

Your thoughts briefly drift back to the ruined arrangements that you had worked so hard on. It's hard to push the disappointment and frustration out of your mind, but you know that you need to focus on the task at hand - helping Grogu choose a special gift for his father.

Suddenly, the little boy turns to you with a determined look on his face. "Can I make the flower bouquet myself?" he asks.

You smile at Grogu's enthusiasm and desire to be involved in the process. "Of course, you can," you say with a smile. "I'd be happy to help you put it together."

Grogu beams at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Thank you!" he says.

Grogu starts to put together the flower arrangement for his dad, you can see that he's a little bit unsure of himself. He's not experienced with flowers, and he's a little bit nervous about getting it right.

Together, you choose a selection of colorful flowers and greenery. You show Grogu how to trim the stems and arrange the flowers in a pleasing way. He listens carefully to your instructions and tries his best to follow along.

The final arrangement isn't the most expertly done, but it's cute and charming. Grogu looks at it with pride and a big smile on his face. "I think my dad will really like it," he says.

Just as you're about to ring up the purchase, Grogu realizes that he doesn't have any money on him. He looks at you with a mix of embarrassment and sadness, and you can see that he's worried that he won't be able to take the flowers home after all.

You hesitate for a moment, considering your options. You know that you’re not supposed to hand out flowers to every kid that wonders inside, but you also can't bear the thought of disappointing Grogu. In the end, you decide to let him take the flowers home with him. You know that you'll find a way to make it work. Honestly, you doubt Cassian will mind anyway.

"Don't worry about it, Grogu," you say, smiling at him. "I'm sure your dad will love the flowers, and that's all that matters. You can pay me back next time."

Grogu's face lights up with gratitude, and he thanks you. You can see that he's truly touched by your kindness, and you feel happy that you were able to spread a little bit of joy.

Just as Grogu is leaving the shop, you see Claire walk in. She looks smug and self-satisfied, and a surge of anger and resentment bubbles inside you. You struggle to keep your emotions in check.

"Hey, looks like someone had a good day," Claire says, eyeing the flowers in Grogu's hand as the boy leaves. "I guess some people just have all the luck."

You can feel your temper rising, and you struggle to keep your voice calm. "Luck had nothing to do with it," you say, trying to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "Grogu was just a kind, thoughtful kid. Unlike some people, who seem to get their kicks from destroying other people's hard work."

Claire rolls her eyes, looking annoyed. "Whatever," she says. "I don't have time for this. I just came to see if there was anything I could help with."

You can feel your blood boiling, but just then, Cassian comes back into the shop. He looks from you to Claire, sensing the tension in the air. "What's going on here?" he asks, frowning.

"Nothing," you say, shaking your head. "Just a misunderstanding. I think it's best if Claire and I just stay out of each other's way for a while."

Cassian nods, looking relieved. "I think that's a good idea," he says, turning to Claire. "I think it's best if you take the rest of the day off. We'll talk more tomorrow."

Anger crosses Claire’s face, but she nods and leaves the shop without another word. You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the resolution, you take a deep breath and turn to Cassian, grateful.

“Thanks, but you know you’re going to hear an earful from her dad right?”

“I know,” he answers, exasperated. “I just didn’t have the patience to deal with her. Tomorrow’s Cassian will have to deal with it.”

It’s a brand new day yet you don’t feel hopeful or renewed at all. Claire is inside working on her own arrangements while you look over the shop. Your mind keeps drifting back to the events of the previous day. You're still angry and you can't shake the feeling of frustration as you go about your work.

You move around the shop, carefully arranging flowers in vases and pots. You start with a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils, adding in sprigs of baby's breath and a few fern fronds for texture. Next, you tackle a vase of deep red roses, interspersing the blooms with sprigs of greenery and a few spiky thistles for contrast.

You admire the vibrant colors and delicate shapes of the flowers. Despite your anger and frustration, you find a sense of calm in the repetitive, soothing motions of flower arranging.

Suddenly, the bell above the door jingles, and —what you assume— a customer enters the shop. You put on a smile and turn to greet them, trying to push your anger to the back of your mind as you prepare yourself to help them.

“That’s her daddy. She’s the one that helped me!”

Your eyes drop down at the voice, you see Grogu from yesterday, his smile is wide as he points at you, his other hand nestled within a much larger one that clearly doesn’t belong to him.

Your gaze slowly lifts from the child, and you are met with the sight of a man whose features are both rugged and refined. Confidence and charm exude from his face, and his dark, expressive eyes seem to speak to your very soul. His smile, warm and genuine, lights up his entire being.

"Hello," he says, his voice deep and rich. "Grogu told me about yesterday. I'm sorry if he caused you any kind of trouble."

You shake your head violently, your cheeks are uncomfortably warm and at the same time cold. You compose yourself with a deep breath. “He wasn’t any trouble at all, really— In fact he improved my day a long shot,”

“That’s good to hear,” he says.

His lips are parted as if he’s about to say more but Grogu peels his tiny hand away from his father’s and runs towards you. You look down, shocked, and raise your hands, not really knowing what to do with them. Hesitantly, you meet the man’s gaze and he softly nods, only then do you softly touch the young boy’s back, giving him a hug.

“He also told me that he couldn’t pay when we reached home,” he continues a hint of annoyance surfacing mid-sentence. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He takes a step forward. “It’s a bit late but I would like to pay for it. They were lovely,”

“Oh,” you stare at him wide-eyed, Grogu looks up at you with a smile. “Well—Thank you for offering but there’s no need. I’m glad you enjoyed them, Grogu made it,”

“With your help,” the child says, tiny brows furrowing. “We did it together!”

“Yes, yes we did,” you chuckle, patting him on the back. He moves away from you and starts to observe the arrangements you made.

“That’s very kind of you but I should pay,” he says stepping forward his hand mid-pulling out his wallet. “How much do we owe you— Grogu don’t mess up the flowers,”

When you turn you see Grogu looking at his father like a dear in headlights, the tips of his fingers touching one of the daffodils. Looking embarrassed, he pulls back his hand and gives you an apologetic look.

But that’s not what you’re thinking about at all. You’re thinking about the way the man’s voice changed, the strictness of it, a shudder rolls down your spine and heat settles at your tailbone. You swallow.

“Like I said it’s okay,”

Din's eyes linger on you, taking in your earnest expression and the way your hands remain raised, refusing payment. After a moment, he gives in, sighing and stuffing his wallet back into his pocket.

"Let me at least buy you coffee," Din says, a smile stretching into a grin as he sees the shock on your face. "My name is Din by the way," he adds, extending his hand toward you. "Nice to meet you."

You introduce yourself and give his hand a firm squeeze, feeling the strength and warmth of his grasp. Din's smile is infectious, and you find your own lips curving upwards in response.

“I need to drop off Grogu now, but how about I meet you here in about an hour? Would you be free then?”

Your eyes move towards the hallway that leads to the room Claire is making her arrangements in, you nod without a second thought. Cassian owes you a favor anyway.

You and Din sit near the window of the cozy coffee shop. The winter air outside is crisp and cold, but inside, the shop is warm and inviting. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods fills the air, and you can't help but breathe in deeply, savoring the rich, comforting aroma.

The shop is bustling with activity, and the sound of laughter and conversation fills the air. The walls are adorned with warm, cozy blankets and colorful throw pillows, creating a sense of comfort and hominess. The light from the large windows filters in, casting a soft, golden glow on everything it touches.

You sit and sip your coffee, you listen enthusiastically to what Din has to say. It’s already been an hour since you came in and neither of you shows no signs of wanting to leave. As expected of him, Din talks a lot about Grogu, which makes you smile widely. You also learn that he’s quite the skilled man, he tells you how he enjoys model building and how he might have a bit of an addiction to legos. You say that you’re the same with plants, your home basically a greenhouse with how much flora you have.

He briefly mentions the passing of Grogu’s mother but before you can say anything he takes a bite of his muffin and directs a question at you.

“So, what’s your story? Did you always want to work at a flower shop?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, wrapping your hands tightly around the mug of coffee as you consider Din's question. You relish the warmth of the mug, letting it seep into your bones. He crosses his legs and leans against the window, his demeanor much more relaxed now.

“I mean, I know you like plants, but that’s a bit different from making floral arrangements isn’t it?”

"I started working at the flower shop when I was desperately searching for a job," you answer, turning back to Din. "The flower shop was hiring. I wasn't sure if I would enjoy it at first, but I ended up loving it. There's something so satisfying about it that stuck with me. I’ve been working with Cassian ever since."

Suddenly, the sound of a ringing phone interrupts your conversation. You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone, glancing at the screen before answering. It’s Cassian, you already have an inkling of what’s going on.

"Hello?" you say, your voice a little bit louder than it was before. "Oh, hey. Yeah, I'm at the coffee shop. What's up?"

“I’m sorry but I need you to come back,” his modulated voice reaches you. “I—Well—Claire is occupied, she’s saying she can’t have her flow of inspiration be cut,”

“I hear you loud and clear,” you sigh, once again reminded of your own ruined chances of joining the competition. “I’ll be right there,”

After a few minutes, you end the call and turn back to Din with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry about that," you say. "I have to go."

Din nods, "Of course," he says. "I hope everything is okay."

“Well…more or less,”

“We can…” he takes a sharp breath and continues. “We can talk about it if you want to—I don’t want to pry, of course, but I just thought I should ask,”

You hesitate for a moment, considering Din's offer. You usually don't open up to people about your dreams and struggles, but for some reason, you feel like you can trust him. There's something about Din that makes you feel safe and understood, and you find yourself wanting to confide in him.

"Well, I actually wanted to join the local holiday flower show," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But my co-worker —her name is Claire— destroyed them but nothing can be done because of her dad’s influence on the shop and now she gets to work on her own arrangements and I’m being beckoned to look over the shop because she doesn’t want her—"you make quotation marks with your fingers. “—flow of inspiration be cut.”

Din nods, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Are you still going to compete?”

"I don't know," you say, feeling a sense of frustration bubble up inside of you. "I'm just so agitated right now. And I don't think I'll be able to get everything together in time for the competition even if I tried."

Din's expression turns to one of concern. "You can't give up just because of a shitty co-worker—Sorry for swearing but—" he says adding the second part with haste, his voice laced with a hint of anger. "Your co-worker shouldn't have destroyed your arrangements like that. You have to keep going and not let her hold you back."

Before you can say anything he raises his hand, his brows furrowed.

“I’ll help you,” he says. “We can make it together.”

“W-Wait, what?” you blink in shock. “You would really do that?”

"Of course. Besides It's no problem," he says. "I'm happy to help. And I have a feeling that we're going to make an amazing team." when you stare at him, unsure, he winks and takes another sip of his coffee. “Besides, I owe you for the bouquet.”

You and Din are huddled over a table covered in flowers and supplies, focused on creating the perfect arrangements for the competition. You can feel the tension between you, but it's a good kind of tension. You're both nervous and excited, and you keep stealing glances at each other as you work.

"Okay, so I think we should start with this bouquet of roses," you say, holding up a bundle of deep red flowers. "We can add in some baby's breath for texture, and maybe some fern fronds for a pop of green."

As you reach for a pair of scissors, your hands brush against each other, and you feel a jolt of electricity run through your body. You pull back quickly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

Din seems to feel it too, and you see a hint of a smile on his lips. "Yeah, that sounds good," he says, his voice low. "I think we should also mix in some of these daisies for a bit of contrast."

You grin at him, trying to play it cool despite the flutter in your chest. "That's a great idea," you say, your voice a bit unsteady. "And we could add in some spiky thistles for a bit of edge."

Din chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Thistles? Are you trying to kill me?" he asks, playfully swatting at your hand.

Your laughter fills the air, a melody of joy and surprise. You never expected to get along so well with Din, but the connection between you seems almost magical. As you work side by side, you can't help but wonder if there's something deeper, something that goes beyond. Could it be love blooming between you, like the flowers you tend with such care? The thought makes your heart flutter.

As you gently weave the flowers together, your hands accidentally meet, a spark igniting between you. You gaze into each other's eyes, and in that moment, you feel like the world falls away. You're drawn towards Din, an undeniable pull that makes your lips tingle with anticipation. But just as you lean in, he breaks away, licking his lips and looking uncertain. You withdraw as well, your heart racing, wondering if you were just imagining things.

Just then, Cassian enters the shop, and you introduce him to Din. You mention that Din is Grogu’s father and Cassian’s eyes lit up when he remembers the young boy from the days before.

"I'm so glad to see you two working together," Cassian says. "And I'm happy that you're going to compete in the flower show. I honestly believe you’re the best one to win, "

Cassian heads inside and you turn to Din, explaining to him that the shop has been struggling lately and that the money from the competition could help. You also mention how Claire's father has been causing problems for Cassian, and how you're hoping to find a way to deal with it. The money might help, you add.

Din listens attentively, "I'm here to help in any way I can," he says, squeezing your hand. "We'll figure it out together."

You and Din work on the arrangements. A sense of ease and comfort in each other's company. As you carefully place the flowers in a vase, Din speaks up.

"I haven't felt this way in a long time," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Ever since Grogu's mother passed away, I've been so focused on him that I haven't really allowed myself to think about anything else."

You look at Din, your heart filled with compassion. "I'm so glad that Grogu came into the shop that day," you say, surprised at how soft, and sincere you sound. "I'm glad that we got to meet."

Din smiles at you. "Me too," he says. "I feel like I'm finally starting to come back to life."

You both continue working on the arrangements, you're falling for Din, and you can tell that he feels the same way—At least, you hope that he does.

When the two of you are finally done, you glance at one another. But just as you're lost in each other's gaze, Din trips and falls, his arms flailing as he tries to catch himself. You try to catch him too, but he ends up pulling you down with him, and the two of you tumble to the ground in a heap.

You both lay there, laughing and trying to catch your breath.

“Whoops,” he says, his hands secured on your hips. “Are you okay?”

“Vey much so,” you grin. “What did you even trip on?”

“I honestly have no idea,”

-Din gathers his things and gets ready to leave, you walk him to the door. The air outside is cold and crisp, and the snow is falling gently from the sky. You breathe in the winter air, relishing in the crispness of it.

"The competition is tomorrow morning," you say, your voice filled with anticipation. "I just wanted to thank you again for all your help. I couldn't have done it without you."

Din smiles at you, his eyes shining with warmth. "It was my pleasure," he says. "I'm just glad I could be of help."

As he turns to leave, you feel like he’s slipping from your fingers, for some reason you’re convinced that if he leaves now you’ll never see him again. You're not ready for him to go—With a boldness that surprises even you, you lean forward and give him a quick peck on the cheek.

The touch of your lips on his skin sends shivers down your spine. Din's eyes widen in surprise, and he licks his lips nervously.

"I-I should go," he stammers, fingers brushing where you kissed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing at the door, your heart racing with excitement and anticipation for what the future might bring.

The morning air is crisp and invigorating as you and Cassian make your way to the competition.

Your senses are overwhelmed by the sight and smell of all the beautiful flowers on display when you enter the room. You see rows of vibrant bouquets and intricate arrangements, each one more stunning than the last.

Your eyes wander across the seats, feeling slightly disappointed when you don’t see Din there. You had hoped that he would be here with Grogu, but it seems like he got preoccupied with something else.

Despite this, you refuse to let it get you down. You focus on your own arrangements, determined to give it your all. You can see Claire setting up her flowers on the other side of the room, a smug smile on her face. You can't wait to show her that you're not going to be held back by her petty actions.

The judges slowly make their way around the room, you feel your nerves start to build. Claire looks at you with annoyance as the judges approach her table, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as you watch her fidget nervously.

The judges finally reach your table, you hold your breath and watch as they carefully inspect your arrangements. You can't gather anything from their expressions, but you try to keep a positive attitude. You glance over at Cassian when one of them reaches out and touches one of the roses, he gives you a reassuring thumbs up. You feel your chest tighten with hope and anticipation as the judges move on to the next table.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the judges make their way back to the front of the room to announce the winners. You cross your fingers and hold your breath as the first-place prize is announced.

As the judges are about to speak, you see Din and Grogu slip into the room and take a seat next to Cassian. Din catches your eye and gives you a smile, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the room disappears and it's just the two of you. Your heart races as Din's piercing gaze meets yours, and the air between you crackles with electricity.

You can feel your body responding to Din's presence, you can't help but be drawn to him. His rugged features and piercing eyes captivate you, and you can't help but wonder what it would be like to feel his lips pressed against yours, to be enveloped in his embrace. The judges' voices fade into the background as you are lost in a haze of possibility and hope, knowing that, with Din by your side, anything is possible.

But before you can fully process this moment, the judges announce the winner. When they announce your name, the crowd cheers and you feel every muscle in your body going limp with shock, your lips parting wide with a sharp gasp. But as you accept your prize and look back up, you see that Din has vanished, leaving Grogu holding Cassian's hand. Cassian, understand what you’re asking immediately, points towards the door.

You quickly make your way toward the exit, when you step outside, the cold winter air bites at your skin, but you hardly notice. You're too focused on the man in front of you, the one who has captured your heart and your soul.

Din stands before you, his eyes shining with pride and love. "I'm so happy for you," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "You deserve this victory."

“I couldn't have done it without you,”

“Do you think I have a career in flower arrangements?”

You chuckle, lips curved as you gaze at him, “Maybe, you want me to put in the word to Cassian?”

Much to your surprise, he wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. Din teases you to look up by wiggling his eyebrows. Confused, you look up only to see that he's holding a sprig of mistletoe over your head, a hint of crimson on his cheeks.

"A bit lame, I know," he says, trying to play it cool. "But I couldn't think of anything else to do."

You grin at Din, every nerve in your body singing with delight. You can't resist the opportunity to show him just how much he means to you. You lean in and give him a soft, lingering kiss, feeling his strong arms wrap around you as he returns the gesture with equal enthusiasm.

Din seems a bit surprised at first, but then he holds you tight and the two of you stand there in each other's embrace, the world around you melting away. You feel like you're floating on air, lost in the magic of the moment.

Eventually, you reluctantly pull back, your lips still tingling with the memory of the kiss. You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, feeling giddy and lightheaded with happiness. You've always been a bit of a romantic, and Din seems to have caught on to that. You can't wait to see what the future holds for the two of you. With Din by your side, anything seems possible.

#pedrostoriesgift22 #pedrostories #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x f!reader #modern!din #flowershop au #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfic #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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italoniponic · 2 years

Note

For the event, how about a s/o who leaves flowers on the boy’s desk without telling them or leaving a note. For Silver, Azul, and one boy you choose. 🌸

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, dear!

I loved your idea! So cute, so sweet, so spring~ I love flower language and I also enjoyed searching more about each flower I choose. I didn’t have a personal favorite here but I think apple blossoms are really pretty (bc they look like cherry and peach blossoms) and it was good to know other flowers too. The boy I chose was Epel bc I was feeling like writing something more for him. Hope you like it! Thanks for the request <3 |

Silver, Azul Ashengrotto, Epel Felmier x gender neutral reader / headcanons / fluff / flower language / crush to lovers / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry’s Harvesting 🍒 Masterlist

Flower Feelings

Silver was relatively used to strange things happening to him. Sometimes, the wild animals that loved him so much would leave something special — flowers, leaves, small berries, feathers — in his closet in the stables or in his place in class. One day, Silver found a bunch of very small, five-petaled pale pink flowers;

But when Silver went to a certain tree in the courtyard to thank for the branch, the little birds pecked at the flowers and looked kind of confused. Although animal language wasn’t Silver’s forte, he managed to ask if this was a gift from them and the answer was no. This made him very surprised. Who could it have been then?;

The other times these bouquets appeared on Silver's table, there was a small card with the name of the flower and its meaning. “Diosma: your simple elegance charms me”. The mysterious handwriting at least gave good indications that it really was a human being sending the diosmas. Silver knew some flowers meant something, but he never imagined someone would direct one especially for him.;

Silver passed to collect these diosmas and placed them in a vase in his room, treating them with the utmost care. But because it was starting to die and flare up, he sought your help on how to best treat them. You were surprised and when you asked why, Silver replied that he wanted to take care of the feelings of this person who so kindly handed him flowers;

Diosma is a shrub with thin branches, a small ornamental flower, blooming in mid-winter until mid-spring. Silver was surprised to find that there was already a small flower bed with diosmas in the school grove, in an area where it managed to receive full Sun. You began to meet more in these places to admire the little flowers and talk together;

Even though Silver didn’t suspect anything — it wasn’t his style to jump to conclusions — deep down, he found himself wanting you to be the one pleasing him with these little gifts. Silver might not have been very aware that people called him “airhead” but you were one of the few people who saw something really special about him despite all his odds;

Was that what it meant to have a simple charm? Although Silver couldn’t be compared in power and elegance to the Thorn Fairy, you praised him for who he was and loved his simplicity. One day, you called Silver to go on Ramshackle and you showed him a small place at the back of the mansion which you turned into a kind of winter garden for your flowers;

Among them were some gardenias. A flower that had a bud the size of a rose but was completely white and its open petals enhance its own kind of beauty. You allowed Silver to hold one for a closer look while you detailed some facts about this moisture-loving flower. “Gardenias mean ‘purity, sweet love and... you are lovely’. Just like you, Silver,” you said;

Silver raised his gaze from the gardenia to you, as if admiring the beauty of another flower. With his attention on you, you revealed that you were the person who was sending the diosmas flowers because you liked him. More than liked, these feelings blossomed enough to become love. “I-i’ll understand if you don't feel the same way and...,” but Silver interrupted you for a moment;

If you've ever wondered what it was like for flowers to feel the Sun shining above it, this moment gave you the answer. Silver gave you a small smile, delicate and subtle as the opening of a gardenia bud. He stepped forward and stood right next to you;

“I don't know much about flowers but do you have any that I can give you to say ‘I love you too’?,” Silver asked, honestly. You knew that wasn’t a flirtation, and yet your heart failed briefly, as if put to sleep in a quarter of a second. That there was such a flower, you knew but, what you really said was that Silver could just hand you a kiss and you would understand the same.

For some time now, Azul had been finding small bouquets of pink camellias on his table almost every morning. The flowers came with a small note written “longing for you” — what Azul came to discover was the meaning of that little pink flower with more circular petals. Even if these flowers appeared out of nowhere, Azul never left it to die;

He happened to have a special vase in his VIP office to place the camellias. Sometimes, during one of his study breaks or dorm accounting, Azul would pick up one of the flowers to analyze it better. In the sea where he came from, there were no plants like that. Earthly nature was very fascinating to him;

As you understood a lot about flowers, Azul sometimes asked you for help to know what to do with the camellias and also took advantage of this time to be by your side. Azul liked to touch the camellias’ petals — not all the time — just to feel its softness and delicacy. It brought a good feeling to him, even more so for making him remember you too;

The few times you touched Azul — holding his hand to ask for something, squeezing his face when you felt he should stop and rest, or simply touching his nose in a playful way — it was like the touch of a camellia. You were a beautiful flower and even suffering from the strong winds of life’s difficulties, you were able to withstand the winter;

At some point, Azul suspected that you were the person who left the pink camellias on his desk before the students arrived in class. You had means, opportunities, advantages. But he couldn’t think of a reason why. Does it have anything to do with the meaning of the flower? Azul chuckled to himself at the thought of these things, but it was a humorless laugh;

It was he who longed for you. To talk more with you, to have your smile, to feel your touch and hear with your words that you liked him back. But Azul didn’t allow himself to be delusional. He knew you wouldn't be able to have deep feelings about him. Not the pathetic Azul who takes advantage of others magic, does nothing but mask defects and cry when everything goes wrong. You deserved something genuine, high-quality, and… not him;

“This is a coral honeysuckle,” you explained when you showed the flower to Azul. It was an ordinary afternoon, you had called Azul to stroll through the Botanical Garden. There you showed him a special pot for a climbing plant with narrow, long, petals with the color of coral. From what you commented, it was a flower whose fruit couldn’t be consumed and should be pruned a little after flowering so as not to infested on other plants;

Azul adjusted his glasses, as always impressed with your knowledge. He asked the meaning of the flower and you took a deep breath for a moment before plucking a small branch and reaching out to him. “It usually means affection. Love full of devotion,” you confessed, feeling your heart beat fast. “I ... think it seems a lot like you too.”;

Azul was speechless when he accepted the branch. He put his hand a little closer to his face, the honeysuckle flowers masking his rosy cheeks. Was that a confession? He needed a moment to process everything. This meant that it was really you who was leaving the camellias on his table;

You said you’d wanted to declare your feelings for a while, but you didn't know how. With the delivery of the camellias, you longed for Azul to knock on your door at any time to ask what to do with them, and since this is one of his talents, Azul has fulfilled your wish effectively;

“Only you can see grace, beauty and qualities in a flower that loses its head and another that goes over in everything that lies ahead,” Azul approached you with a small smile. His eyes were as sweet as honey. Before you could say anything, Azul wrapped you in a tight hug. You were close enough to hear his heart beat like a festive maritime orchestra.

Epel found it curious to find a bunch of apple blossoms on his desk that morning. No one had any idea how those flowers came to be there either. All he had was a simple card with the words: “Good fortune. Better things to come.” This same thing repeated itself over the days and Epel continued without a clear answer;

Still, given the fact that he was still stressing over some of Pomefiore’s stuff and he was trying harder than ever at the Magift Club, receiving those words of motivation made Epel’s heart pound harder. Whoever was rooting for him, he appreciated it! More than saying what Epel absolutely should do or what he wanted to hear, these were true caring words. He could feel it;

As Harveston is a town full of apple trees, Epel wasn’t surprised by the arrival of blossoms from the trees in early spring. The apple trees on the school campus were enchanted, so there were some full of flowers and others already with the ripe fruits. Since childhood, Epel liked to watch the blossoms when they opened;

When Epel found you, he showed the flowers to you and went into detail about the aspects and utilities of them. Apple blossoms are small, has five white petals with a little pink inside. Some still in the bud have an even darker and more intense pink. You watched Epel excitedly comment on stories about the apple blossoms — family memories and some old village legends;

But it was you who commented on the meaning of the flower — the same as the sayings on the card. At first, Epel thought it was just a coincidence that you knew this. Well, he liked you for a long time and you two talked enough that you knew what he needed. But Epel didn’t want to fool himself for nothing. You just really liked flowers;

Epel took advantage of all those apple blossoms to make tea and share with his dorm. Dried apple tree petals can help relieve stress. It made him wonder if, for you, he could be useful in anything. You can use a lot from an apple, from the flower to the fruit. Except when it's completely rotten or have bugs inside;

However, even if the world told Epel that he had a rotten part — a stain inside his beautiful, glossy apple, a poison that should be eradicated just because — you didn’t make him feel that way. Epel strove to get better in what he could, that was good, but you looked at him in a different way. Not for what he looked like, but for who he was. Made him feel at home, loved;

“I found these primroses in the village and I'm thinking of planting the seeds in the garden. It will be easy, it’s a very determined type. It can adapt to anything,” you giggled as you showed a small vase of flowers to Epel in Ramshackle’s front yard. Primroses were small flowers with well-flattened petals, those ones were especially purple;

Epel had found it quite pretty, so he asked if you knew its meaning. At that moment, he noticed that you seemed to get a little anxious all of a sudden. But you took a deep breath and replied, “It does... I can’t live without you.” Epel got surprised for a second, almost wondering if you had said that more to him than about the flower;

So you told everything. About the flowers that Epel found every morning, about your feelings. Because the love that Epel sprouted in your heart was blooming with the rise of early spring, finally giving petals and would continue to grow until it produced fruits. But, if he wanted to pull the root out, you couldn’t do anything. You didn't want to force your love on him, ever;

“What in the big bull’s shit are ya sayin’? Of course I like you!,” Epel touched your shoulder and you faced him again. As expected, his pale face had some pink reflections just like apple flower petals. But Epel had mustered all his courage to reciprocate your feelings once and for all. You took a primrose, kissed one of its petals and offered it to him to do the same. He smiled, still a bit embarrassed. You’re a good ol’ lovey-dovey person, aren’t ya?

#twisted wonderland #silver #twst silver #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst fluff #flower language #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting

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tbzhours · 1 year

Text

innocent crush

kevin x you, friends to lovers au, college au, fluff, confession

[summary] kevin plans a little too much for his confession to you [words] 2.2k [a/n] i apologize for the cheesiness/cringes you may or may not face in this fic... enjoy!

“Kevin… Kevin?”

“Yeah?” He snapped back into reality, turning his head to you as his leg stopped shaking under the table. His funny distracted face and pout made you laugh.

“What’s up in your head that you didn’t hear me the first time?” You asked, grinning from the laugh still. His lips parted and no words were coming out. You didn’t notice because you looked down at the textbook in front of you, then you continued, “Anyway, what do you think about this idea?”

As you tried to explain the physics of light and color, all Kevin did was gaze at you. His heart was racing, despite knowing you since the beginning of last semester. You always seemed so cool to him because everything you said made sense to him… If that even makes sense. This was your second semester together and you were glad to see him again because this physics class seemed hard and you knew no one in that big lecture room. Kevin was glad too because maybe he can finally confess to you.

That’s only if Kevin could pull through with it. He’s been planning all week with his friends as they all waited until he decided the date because midterms were coming up. You both were partners for the group test so he thought maybe it would be okay to just do it no matter how nervous he was. The pressure from his friends was enough too because they didn’t want to wait a whole month for a small event (though it’s a big one to Kevin).

Confessions aren’t supposed to take that long to make it happen.

After studying together, you both were heading out.

You turned to him after confirming another study day before the weekend and suggested, “Hey, do you want a drink? Let’s celebrate for finally understanding that damn light theory.”

Kevin smiled as he noticed the reflected lights from the ceiling in your eyes and hoped you would understand his feelings when he finally confesses later. The thought made his cheek blush as he looked down at his feet. “Maybe next time. I have to get back soon for a show Sunwoo’s been making me watch with him.”

“That sounds fun.” You said sarcastically. You chuckled afterwards, reaching the café where Changmin works as he smirked at Kevin behind the counter. You shrugged sadly then you patted his back, “Then here’s pat on the back for not dismissing my crazy ideas about it. See you soon then?”

“Thanks. We can text each other if we have questions about anything.” Kevin added. Changmin rolled his eyes at the side and mocked his words.

“Okay.” You smiled at him and before you pushed through the door, knowing you both were going separate ways, you wished him a “Good night.”

He said the same back and once the door closed, Kevin heard Changmin’s slow claps behind him.

“Wow, just wow.” Changmin commented, sarcasm filled. It was such his character that Kevin couldn’t stand him for watching everything he’s been doing.

“What?” Kevin was offended and only turned his head back.

“You can do better than that.” Changmin teased and his arrogant smile appeared on his lips.

Kevin blinked a few times, looking around quickly. “I-I am doing better. We’re meeting up again on Friday, you know that.”

Changmin nodded, acknowledging his words quickly. “Of course. It’s finally happening.”

“Then get it ready, and see you at the dorm later.” Kevin felt attacked as he left him with a tiny pout before walking out. He didn’t see the sneaky smile Changmin had. Of course, he was just playing around.

At Kevin’s dorm, some of his roommates, Jacob and Chanhee, were cutting the heart papers for Kevin to write on. They made a pink petal mess on the floor as they fooled around with the hearts by putting them over their eyes and laughing. Sunwoo was in the kitchen, heading over to them with a bowl of ramen since the TV was there.

Kevin arrived back and saw the mess.

“Hey!” He whined as they all turned to him. What were the odds of having this much roommates? He walked over to them with his annoyed feet. “Why is it such a mess?”

“You should be thankful we’re helping you get your babe.” Chanhee murmured, turning away quietly. Sunwoo chuckled at his comment, almost choking on his food while Jacob smiled and set the hearts down. He got up and patted Kevin’s back.

“Kevin, you’re back! You don’t have to worry about the mess. We’ll take care of it.” Jacob smiled and let him go as he continued. “All you gotta do is write on the hearts for the hunt then you’re good to go.”

“I don’t think my heart is ready.” Kevin frowned and sat down on the couch next to Sunwoo. He sulked into it while Jacob sat back down on the floor in front of Chanhee.

“I think you’re gonna do just fine.” Jacob tried to cheer him up.

Then there’s Sunwoo, eating without thinking about what he’s saying as his eyes stay stuck on the TV screen. “Yeah, it’ll be bad if you stutter, l-like t-t-this.”

He earned a punch to the arm as he held over it, crying from the pain.

“Better shut up before I steal all of your food.” Kevin threatened as everyone laughed. His frown was still there though.

“Hey!” Sunwoo laughed, moving his food away. “Do you want us to be there with you or what?”

“Of course not!” Kevin argued back.

Changmin came back into the shared dorm and laughed quietly at them. Juyeon, who had been sleeping in all day since he was only taking online courses, came out of his room half-naked and laughed along. It was just another crazy night with Kevin’s roommates.

Kevin was going to pull through as he wanted. Your study session for Friday was set so all he had to do was to be there earlier than usual. He got his little minions to help so now he was just waiting for you to arrive.

You were in one of your classes and as soon as you set your book down, Sunwoo, who was sitting beside you, opened your book and set a heart in there while you turned away to look back into your bag. He sighed in relief when you didn’t catch him. He smiled at you as you squinted before looking at the professor.

Throughout the class, you didn’t see the heart until you got bored and flipped through your book and stopped at the page. Sunwoo peeked and cheekily smiled back at the front of the room as you read the first heart-shaped note.

Hey, I like you. Can you guess who I am?

You gave a look at Sunwoo and he laughed quietly. He shook his head as he waved his hands at you because he knew what you were thinking.

You tried to get this note out of your head and just went on with the day when you suddenly stepped on another heart-shaped paper, much like the first one.

Thank you for picking me up. You almost blew me away.

You shook your head, chuckling at the funny joke. You waited until you got to your next class to put the note away when you found another one in your backpack.

Ah… I wasn’t trying to hide. I’m slowly opening up to you.

This time, your heart really started to beat faster. Your face was flushed and all you could wonder was who it could be. For that, you decided to get a drink at the café beside the study area where you meet with Kevin frequently right after. You needed something else to distract you from these sudden confession notes.

Changmin happened to be there, though the plan was him having to call for you to give you a “free drink that someone already paid for ” but you walked up to him yourself. He grinned nervously as you seemed out of breath.

“You alright?” He asked, looking down at the drink he just prepared. He wiped the bottom of it to steal some time before he could let you go.

“Yeah, no. I keep getting these love notes and I have no idea who it’s coming from.” You sighed.

Changmin chuckled and handed over the drink to you. “Well, here. This can cool you down hopefully.”

“Thanks.” You took a sip from it then you flashed a look at back. “Wait, you’re giving this to me for free?”

He smiled with a nod. “It’s on me. Well, kinda.”

Changmin scratched his head slowly with an awkward smile.

“Okay… Thanks, still.” You smiled, thinking how this was part of a plan or something but you brushed it off. “See you later!”

You headed toward the table that you and Kevin would meet to study. You saw him sitting there from the distance, looking down at his book then you felt something weird on the cupholder of your drink so you turned it around. There was a heart note there again so you stopped at your tracks.

We’re meeting soon. I’m getting nervous. Are you too?

When you looked up, Kevin was already looking at you. Your cheeks blushed upon his smile. It can’t be him, right? You walked up to him slowly, distracting your head again with the little conversations around you, and when you sat down in front of him, you couldn’t look at him in the eye.

“You’re here.” Kevin greeted you with the same smile. He wiped his hands on his pants under the table, wondering if you noticed anything on the table.

“Yeah.” You chuckled, nodding your head as you closed your eyes. Of course, you did. All of the little pieces on there matched the shape on your cupholder and it took you long enough to realize what he was trying to do. You looked up at him, showing your drink to him. “Is this you?”

“Ah, I got caught, huh?” He whispered, looking back at you from the drink.

“Kevin!” You whined softly then you sighed. “Were you trying to confess to me?”

“Why? Was it bad?” He asked with a small pout. His shoulders were closed up toward his chest and you could almost imagine his sweater paws curling under the table.

“No, it’s just-” You paused before continuing. “You didn’t have to do all of that. I would have been okay if you confessed simply, like saying you like me.”

“Really? I wasn’t done with it though.” His voice got quiet before you gasped.

“Don’t tell me you were planning to play on the piano too?” There was a piano in the study area you both were in and sometimes, there would be someone playing there. His smile told you it was part of the plan. You laughed, covering your face as you continued, “Kevin, seriously. You seemed like you went through a lot to get here, but please just tell me you like me instead.”

“Okay.” Kevin smiled shyly then after a quiet moment, he finally confessed, your name slipping through his lips first. “I like you.”

You didn’t know how long your heart had been beating this fast today, but you wondered if he could hear it. Wait, it didn’t matter because you could hear his.

“Great.” You smiled. “I like you too.”

He leaned over the table quickly after hearing your words back. “Really?!”

“Why are you so shocked? I thought you knew.” Your hand came up to the table when you were about to face-palm yourself. Your smile formed even more from your tiny giggle.

“I mean- I couldn’t assume so.” He looked away slowly in such a shy manner that you couldn’t help to shake your head.

“Well, then… We confirmed our feelings. Can we study for that midterm now...” You asked, trying not to go so fast with this feeling. “After cleaning this table?”

“Yes, we can.” Kevin chuckled but he wasn’t starting to clean nor you. He was looking at your drink and hesitantly asked, “Can I have some of your drink by the way?”

“What?”

“I ordered my favorite drink so I thought you might like it too.”

You squinted at him as you slid the drink over to him. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about doing an indirect kiss already.”

“Well…” He took your drink and sipped on it with his cheeks turning red. He smiled softly behind the straw and continued, “We can have real kisses later when we’re ready.”

You were blushing way more than before so you started gathering the heart-shaped papers on the table so he wouldn’t notice them. “Okay, let’s get going with studying.”

Kevin laughed and set your drink aside and just watched you clean up before you whined to him to help. Changmin was watching from afar and chuckled from the way Kevin was smiling at you. There’s something about that look that tells him, the confession was successful.

#the boyz imagines #the boy scenarios #kevin moon #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #kpop imagines #tbznetwork #deobiwritersnet #kevin #kevin moon imagines #college au #friends to lovers au #fluff

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strawhatsoraya · 2 years

Note

Would you write top Usopp? I’d rlly love to see that! Maybe a shy dense reader (she) that he’s been flirting with until he finally went “y’know what? Fuck it” and just kisses her! Or anything you’d have in mind! (I love angst with happy ending, soo 👀 👉👈)

(Lil vent: I only ever see ppl writing him as a bottom and, while I don’t judge, I just rlly don’t/ can’t see that. Yeah, he’s anxious and can be a scaredy-cat, but he’s grown and when it matters he’s super brave and confident. I feel like ppl babyfy him a lot… so I’d love to see a top Usopp being all the confident and flirty for once! It’s kinda unfair how they babyfy him so much… anyway! I’m so sorry abt this impromptu vent!! Ik it was stupid, I just been thinking abt this a whole lot! Sorry again)

Anon, I love your beautiful mind. Your wish is my command, because your wish is also my wish. We are of one mind right now. I have written some Usopp for you, with some angst, and fluff, and some smut, and guess what? He's not a bottom! So there's that.

(I refuse to accept as Usopp as bottom so you and I can stand together on this hill. I'll make room. Usopp is courageous, and trustworthy. He knows how skilled he is, and isn't shy at all in my opinion! He just gets scared and honestly rightfully so! The situations they get into are absolutely bonkers. Not everyone is as fearless as Luffy. Never worry about ranting to me!! We can rant together)

hehe ANYWAY here is the fic. I could rant for three more paragraphs if you let me. Please enjoy the Usopp meal kiss kiss xoxo

Bullseye

USOPP X FEM READER | AFAB NO PRONOUNS | NSFW

WORD COUNT: 1.7k (I could have easily written another 1k but thought i should stop while i was ahead)

A (BADLY WRITTEN) SUMMARY: Usopp doesn't understand why y/n can't just grasp the concept of him being into her??? So he makes a move because life is short.

There wasn’t a target in all the seas that he couldn’t hit. No matter how far, no matter how fast. That was the guarantee. His legacy. Sniper King, Usopp the legend of East Blue.

However, with you, it was like flinging cotton balls as ammunition; not enough force, always falling too short, nothing stuck.

It was true that you always laughed at his jokes, crinkling your button nose, chubby cheeks partially concealing your eyes. It was true that whenever he called your name, you whipped your head in his direction, never ignored him; not even once. It was true that sometimes he’d brush the back of his hand against yours, and sometimes–maybe once or twice, your pinkies had entwined as silence fell between you; an understanding of shaky possibilities.

It was also true that you never once answered truthfully when he asked you if you had a crush. Did he know them? It was also true that he called you pretty, funny, amazing and you had taken it all in stride with a quiet laugh, stating that he was too kind; too sweet.

He wanted to be more than sweet. He wanted to be enticing, alluring. He wanted you to see him and feel fire wrap itself around your legs, and over your hips until you were consumed by nothing but thoughts of him. He wanted you to dream of him the way he dreamed of you at night; dream of his lips the way he dreamed of yours–their taste, their shape, the way his name would tumble out in an imaginary ecstasy.

Night after night, he struggled with himself. He’d run scenarios in his mind, wondering what else he could do, what else he could say. It bothered him enough to go to Sanji, risking humiliation. Sanji had laughed, before clapping one hand on his shoulder. Some people are like flowers, he had said as they shared a glass of wine. Sometimes they need a little extra push, a little bit more care, before they can bloom.

Usopp wanted to see you bloom. He wanted your petals to open up, to reveal the tender pink inside, like cherry trees in spring. He wanted to be the breeze that shakes your branches, scattering the essence of you everywhere to carry it with him wherever he went.

He smelled you in the ocean breeze as you stood on the deck, observing the sea as you often did. You turn to him and smile, hand outstretched to him. He doesn’t have the strength to deny you. He walks towards you, heart hammering loudly between his ribs. It seeks to escape, to run away from the scene. Usopp brings a hand up to calm it, he rubs a quick circle over his chest. He murmurs a quiet promise to himself. Today, he wouldn’t let you escape. Today, he’d make you understand.

You both look out at the ocean, watch the sun sink lower into the horizon. Orange ink spills in the skies, washes away and blends in with dusty blue.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” you ask him, tilting your head up at him. He looks down at you with lips slightly parted. As if he couldn’t breathe enough. His dark brown eyes, deep and soulful, watch you and it feels as if he sees deeper than skin; deeper than flesh, sinews and bone. You swallow, trying to ignore the steady increase in body heat.

“Yeah,” he says, tearing his eyes away from you with the last shred of his will. He places an elbow on the railing of the Thousand Sunny to glance at the sunset casually. It was beautiful for sure, but the sight of your skin glowing was far more than that; far more than words he could ever utter.

He should, though, shouldn’t he?

He swallows the nerves, they tangle in his throat. He hears you talking about something or the other; more than likely whatever shenanigans Luffy had gotten up to that day. He laughs just at the thought of it, your story barely registering. All he could do was stare at your moving lips, the way the corners of your mouth would curl up, the tiny flash of white teeth; he remembers at the most inopportune moment, he is aware, of his last dream where you sank your teeth into his shoulders to keep from crying out.

His hands shake, he feels pleasurable heat at the bottom of his belly. If he didn’t hold you tonight, if he didn’t kiss you until he was out of breath, he was as good as dead. He says your name, cutting off your speech. You blink at him, wondering when he had become so rude. You don’t get the chance to question him. His mouth is on yours, tightly pressed as one arm wraps around your waist. He pulls you in closer, fingers clutching at the fabric of your shirt; desperate to keep you close. His other hand buries in your hair, grabbing handfuls of it, bringing your mouth closer to his.

You feel your body freeze, adrenaline shooting bullseyes at every nerve. Bang, Bang, Bang! And at the source of the hit, warmth blooms; ink on paper, spreading heated fingers over your skin.

He presses his tongue against your bottom lip, and feels the chapped skin. It doesn’t bother him. He just thinks he should kiss you more properly; tenderly, to make up for it. He has you in his embrace, tongue pushing past your lips. He claims yours for the taking, moaning softly as he sucks on it. When you come up for air, you are breathless; a small shiver rattles your senses.

“I like you so much,” he confesses against the baby hairs on your temple. He kisses your cheeks, brushes his plush lips against the shell of one ear. “I want you.” You don’t trust yourself to answer. Your legs feel weak, so you clasp fistfuls of his vest. He looks down at you through his curly lashes, his ragged breathing splashing against your mouth. He takes your silence as an answer, and envelopes your small hand in his large one to lead you away from the deck.

It is fortune’s grace that you meet no one on the way to his bedroom. He pushes the door open with too much force, and it slams against the opposing wall. The noise startles you, so he apologizes quickly as he closes it, ears heating up with embarrassment.

He tries to forget his slip up by pulling you into his embrace again, kissing you with abandon. You were in his room; you, the elusive you. It was more than he could have ever hoped. He had dreamed, yes, time and time again but those were fantasy; a cheap copy of the real you. His imagination could not compare to the softness of the inside of your mouth, the meatiness of your hips that he gripped tightly enough to bruise. You whimper as he bites on your bottom lip, tugs on it with a strength you didn’t know he possessed.

Your tongue is in his mouth again when he picks you up by the ass, long brown fingers digging into your glutes. You moan, arms wrapping around his neck as you both fall back on the bed. His weight on your body is arousing. You can’t get past the idea of how domineering it feels, as if he could pin you down and you’d be too weak to resist. He was an incredible marksman. You knew this, but wondered if he was a mind reader as well. His fingers wrap around your wrists, and he pins them over your head, his free hand snaking under your shirt, pressing flat against your belly at an excruciatingly slow pace. His callouses palms, the roughness of his skin makes you shiver.

“Usopp,” you breathe, barely able to utter the syllables. Your legs move despite your will, rubbing together as if that would stop the slickness in your panties from spreading. You don't have the courage to ask for it, so you blush instead. The sight of you biting your lip, sinking in your shoulders as if you wanted to hide shouldn’t entice him; it shouldn’t make the throbbing erection in his pants any more worse but it does. He feels it twitch, feels the need to force you to look at him. So he leaves your skin alone to grab your chin between thumb and index finger. He pulls your chin upwards, watches you until you make eye contact.

You can barely stand to look at him. Sweat drops cling to his cinnamon skin, and as your fingers twitch you remember how warm he always feels. A heat floods your belly, oozing downwards. You feel yourself become wetter the longer he stares at you.

“I want you to look at me,” he says as he lets go of your chin. His hand travels down the center of your breasts, fingers dancing lightly over your belly. Your breathing comes in short bursts; soft pants filling up the empty room. “Make sure you keep looking at me.”

His fingers brush along the inside of your thighs. You feel them ease under the skirt. You try not to close your eyes, they flutter briefly as he finds your heated cunt. You mutter something unintelligible, maybe his name? He doesn’t quite catch it but it makes him smile to see you falling apart so easily. He discovers the elastic of your panties with two fingers, pushes it aside to gently play with your wet folds.

You’re tethered to his gaze; dark, warm and hypnotizing. You lose yourself, sink into it, as if drowning at the deep end of a pool. Was breathing even necessary when his fingers so easily slipped inside of you? You cry out at the feel of them curving; searching. You bite your lip, before you gasp, panting. He never stops watching you, even as he picks up the pace, taking the hint from your moving hips. You were art in motion; a cascade of colors; a mixed medium of sound and touch. He was a mere consumer, delirious; his only desire was to have whatever you could possibly give him.

You cry out his name, and he feels a wish fulfilled. He buries his face in your neck, his curls brushing your cheek.

“Perfect,” he mumbled against your neck, nipping the skin he found until little purple bruises showed up. He feels like an imposter. He wishes he could leave something better; the shape slightly different, anything to add to your beauty. “You’re so perfect.” Your moans ignite his passion, your fingers are under his shirt, running sharp nails down his back. “Let’s not stop here. Give me more. I want more.”

#usopp x you #usopp x reader #usopp x y/n #usopp #usopp smut #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #fic request #for the cummunity!

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