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jamalgripperton46290 · 4 months

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Blinding Lights and Secret Doors (Hub x Bub)

A/N

WE'RE BACK :)))) Enjoy lil' broskis <3

•••

Time flies, goes by like a faint and succinct rustle among the strong, rustling wind. Hell, just a couple months ago Bub was watching the children gleefully play outside, while decorations of fluorescent pumpkins adorned the scene, as well as the occasional 'Trick or Treat' exchanged by exuberant little children buzzing with excitement and pride, showing all of their winnings of candy to their friends, as if they were intricate pieces of treasures, only to be shown to the most trustworthy of people. And then came Thanksgiving. Nothing too special, just Bub showing up to his parent's house for some family gathering being held, and jacking off harshly into his hand shortly after the boredom was too much to overcome by himself.

And jacking off has always been one of Bub's (not many) talents, as he'd like to boast to everyone. He's fantastic, heck, maybe even the greatest. He knows the right amount of pressure to apply, the perfect rhythm, all the key spots, and that flawless angle and position of his wrist where it isn't bound to get as worked up as most of the population's "Average Noob Whacking", as he likes to call it. He might be the ultimate and unmatched whacker off-er or jerk off-er (however you'd wish to call it) in his own eyes, but reality doesn't always live up to the rad expectations we make up in our heads. I'll just cut to the chase and tell you that Bub's just a sad, pathetic little virgin (womp womp). Living his life miserably fucking his hand because no one else is there to do it for him. How utterly sad. (#Lcantrelate).

Okay, well, easing off the harshness here for a lil', let's move onto Hub, our fellow yellow storybot. Looks can deceive, as they like to say, because Hub was often described as an outgoing and friendly fella, usually the one coming up with unusually fun ideas to spend the time, mostly really fuckin' weird. Like that one time he somehow convinced the whole gang to piss in this bigass bucket, to later use the liquid and pour it down at people from his 4th floor. But fun nonetheless. What most didn't and wouldn't expect, was that he had a rather interesting sex life. I mean, c'mon, you wouldn't really be able to predict that some fidgety yellow dude whose stature would fool you into thinking he was a pubescent, moody teenager going on a no-deodorant strike, could name even the wildest positions in bed in less than a minute or two. Well actually, most teenagers nowadays probably could, but like, let's dwell on the good ol' 19-somethings, 'kay? (neither of us was born then but whatever don't come at us pls). Back in the days and stuff, or whatever boomers say these days, I don't know.

Needless to say, while one got bitches, the other one didn't, and was probably getting his dick stuck in something that wasn't a cunt. Like, dude, how much of a virgin can one really be? Bub is the robot embodiment of that.

Well, Hub was pretty well-known around storybot-ville, so naturally, he got invited to some random Christmas party held at some pothead he knew's house, not to toot his own horn, but he was kinda famous around these regions, he was humble about it though, like the cool dude he was #humblestorybotdudeyourockman.

So yeah, Hub being all humble and stuff, accepted the nice invitation, manners and all. And just like in any other story, this is the event where the two oblivious characters meet, and in our stories, end in both of em' fucking, cuz duh. You know what you clicked on anyways, pls keep reading chickadee, we wanna be famous :)))

No one really knows how Bub got there, but he did, m'kay? (I'm feelin kinda lazy rn and making another backstory is kinda exhausting yk sorry chickadoodles momma humpty still loves u)

Anyways,

It was reaching around 11:00 at night, and all the happy storybots were in the exciting midst of getting ready for a fun, gay ol' night with their friends, probably to just end up smoking that wild hippie lettuce and dropping dead on the couch after a couple shots, but at least it was all in loving company, and at the end of the day, that's all that really matters <3 (awwww)

Bub was being an absolute loner in a dark corner, the colorful, bright lights cascading byzantine shadows across his pumpkin-orange hued robot features, the speakers were blasting some random ass song that said something along the lines of someone's cock being bigger than yours? Bub didn't know, he didn't really listen to music (shame on u bub soad is rad asf bro #cigarosupremacy🧎‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙏✝️). His friend apparently ditched him for some hunk like 3 steps into the house. Fantastic.

So alone he was, scanning the crowd before him moshing to some song he didn't know, having what seemed like a good time. He was really debating on finding the nearest bathroom to jack off in because being in a party with nobody at your side is pretty sad and very, very boring.

He was about to flip a coin to decide his lonely dick's fate, when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he was met with a rather good-looking storybot, roughly his height.

"Hey, haven't seen you around, you new here?" The amber toned fellow shouted over the deafening noise.

"What? Oh, uh, no. Just here with a friend... I think. She kinda ditched me."

"Oh, bummer man, sorry about that. Uh, can I sit here?" Hub gestured at the chair beside Bub. Having nothing better to do (other than jacking off), Bub nodded, moving aside slightly to accommodate space for this new hunk.

"What's a cute guy like you doing alone in here, then?" Hub smirked, inching slightly closer to the orange robot.

"Actually, I just kinda got here, y'know? This stuff isn't really my scene, not gonna lie," Bub rambled on, "And I got here with my friend like 20 minutes ago, and it kinda sucks 'cause I picked my good ratty jeans for this, and like, not even 5 seconds into this place, and some dude starts flirting with her and then just like that, bam, she's gone. So then, I'm like: 'should I jack off or something?', so I was gonna flip a coin and then you came so like, here we are now, I guess."

Listening intently to his whack ass story, Hub let out a small chuckle, kind of mesmerized with this dude, he surely wanted to know more about him.

"What? Shit gets boring, y'know? And jacking off is the next best thing on my list."

"So, I take it you just randomly jack off when you're bored?" Hub laughs.

"Y'know what? Forget it, I probably should be getting home anyway or something." Bub huffed, annoyed. Getting up from his seat a little more dramatically than he probably should've, but he lived for drama and shit, like the little fucker he was.

Strong hands pulled him back and down onto Hub's lap. And correct him if he was wrong, but was that a semi digging into his ass? Damn, who knew a lame ass virgin could make that happen?

Maybe he was imagining things, or maybe someone spiked his drink, but surely, he couldn't make that happen all by himself, could he?

"I was gonna ask you to spend your lonely little Christmas with me. I've been eyeing you a lot tonight, but you're an oblivious one, aren't you?" Hub hums seductively, hands tightly gripping Bub's waist, his mouth starting to ghost across the back of his neck, sending tiny shocks of pleasure down the orange robot's spine.

Eventually, Bub dragged the hunk by the hand and ran with him to the nearest available room, checking that it was empty and free of storybots high off their shit, he locked the door behind them successfully.

As cool and controlled as Bub was trying to play it, he was wracking his brain for possible ways to tackle this... Situation.

I mean, he had already embarrassed himself enough earlier, so he wasn't just gonna tell the dude 'hey brah, I'm kind of a virgin so take it real vanilla on me, 'kay?'. Hell no.

But he figured he'd watched plenty of stuff on the internet, so he knew the gist of it, you could say.

It was probably the adrenaline speaking for him or something, because next thing he knew, some unknown force was making him pull the hunk's jeans down, or at least attempt to, cuz those shits wouldn't come down as much as he pulled on them, the hunk had cake. What a lucky bonus!

"A feisty one, are we?"

He was already thinking of all the ways he'd go with this, his head continuously chanting yes, yes, yes, yes. When it suddenly dawned upon him, he hadn't properly introduced himself to the 'hunk' as he'd been calling him in his head all this time. Dammit, way to go, Bub.

"Uh, not to like, ruin the moment we're having here, but I figured if I want to moan your name as loud as I can and until my lungs give out, I need to know it and stuff," Bub awkwardly smiled rather sheepishly, "Uh, by the way, I'm Bub."

"Oh, yeah. I'm Hub... Uh, nice to meet you? Can you please get on with it, though? My dick's killing me here."

"Uh, yeah, sorry."

Well at least that was out of the way, now he could finally get through with the fun part. It shouldn't be too hard right? (ha, hard. lolsies i'm so silly)

He was a hectic flurry of emotions, up until the jeans finally came off. And he saw the outline of his first ever dick. He was about to suck that thing! Him! Bub Storybot was accomplishing a major milestone today! He almost wanted to take a quick picture posing next to it and keep it in his wallet or something. Hooray for him(?)

Soon after, the moment of truth was here. It felt like the world was spinning in slow fucking motion, all his life was leading to this very moment. He almost shed a tear over this random dude's dick, seriously.

And so, the boxers came off, and woah.

Merry fuckin' Christmas.

Bub's jaw hung agape at the mesmerizing sight, what used to be a semi hard cock was now fully up, the vein on the underside of Hub's length pulsed with blood racing down to his painfully hard dick. The tip leaked slimy little beads of pre-cum sliding down the fiery, angry tip. Bub salivated at the very thought of wrapping his lips around it. So that's exactly what he did.

Capturing Hub's tip in the warm cavity of his mouth, Bub circled it with his tongue while soaking in the small grunts that left Hub as he did so. After some more teasing, Hub grew irritated at Bub's antics and grabbed the back of his head, shoving his length down his throat. Bub's gags filled the pretty cramped room they were both in, the soft yellow hue of the old light encompassed the two and seeped out the small crack at the bottom of the door, along with the sound of Hub's grunts and moans.

Drool coated Hub's length and slid down Bub's chin as he bobbed his head along his length, hands placed on Hub's meaty thighs and eyes tracing over his sweaty features. Wobbly shelves creaked slightly as Hub tilted his head back in pleasure, old ornaments rolled down the slanted shelves and weathered tinsel crunched noisily beneath the weight of his head.

Bub traced the bumps of prominent veins that lined his cock either his tongue, eliciting sounds of pure pleasure from Hub. Prior quiet and kind of unnoticeable groans and grunts soon turned into loud and very noticeable moans, groans and the occasional whimper. Hub's cock twitched deep in Bub's thoat as he fought the need to gag and swallowed every inch Hub had.

Stars exploded infront of Hub's eyes as he felt himself emptying his load in Bub's mouth. Catching his breath as he slumped against the wall and soaked in the few remaining sparks that still burned after he came, Hub clamped Bub's jaw shut with his hand as the other plugged his nose so Bub had no other option than to swallow every last drop.

Hub yanked Bub's pants down, the thicker piece of denim scraping against Bub's two voluptuous planets and bunching up at his ankles. Grabbing the weathered tinsel in his hands, Hub tightly tied the material around both of Bub's wrists behind his back as he lined his saliva covered cock up with Bub's slightly puckered chocolate starfish.

Bub could barely register the fact that his wrists were restrained behind his back, his pants were down and Hub's body was pressed flush against his back before Hub plunged the entirety of his length into him. A loud yelp (that was more kinda like a loud moan) fell from Bub's lips as Hub continued to thrust inside him at an organ rearranging pace. The door they were currently fucking against rattled and creaked under the borderline animalistic way they were going at it.

What was left of Hub's self-control immediately crumbles and dissolved into nothingness once he'd heard whimpers spill from Bub's tongue, along with the chant of his name that sounded as if he was worshipping Hub's very existence. Roughly pounding into Bub, Hub had a vice-like grip on his fiery orange skin that was now glazed in sweat from the boiling atmosphere of the stuffy cupboard.

With one last deep and gut splitting thrust, Hub spilled all his cum inside Bub. The two were left with white blinding their visions at the sound crushing pleasure that still flowed through their veins before they put in their clothes once again and straightened themselves out.

After some time, it finally dawned upon Bub that he'd just fucked the chunk of a hunk in a damn storage cupboard like fuckin animals. Down and dirty against a door, even that was mind-boggling to him (even though the second he gets a little to bored at any function he's up and off to the nearest restroom or empty room for the wank of his life that leaves his hand cramped up, a tad sore and slightly stuck in the circular position).

It also occurred to him that he'd probably not see or hear from Hub for a while since they only knew each other's name before they rushed off to a cupboard to blow off some steam only to part ways not long after the best lay of each of their lives. Stuffing his hands into his pockets to seem a little less awkward, he felt something crinkling in his palm. He took the thing out and, lo and behold, it was a small note.

2 434-5508

Round 2?

- Hub

Looks like it's gonna be a very merry Christmas this year.

•••

A/N

KFHISGBFHJEDHFGEHDJFGHFEGHBDFJKIUUYGWHEDFJUYEWDGHJUIYUGFGBH

I MISSED YA LIL' CHICKADOODLES

RadHumptyTrumpty here, and I wanna apologize for not being here for like, what. 3 months?

But, alas, we made it and I was very happy to go back to writing again (the last 3 fics were all solely written by pookie jamal) I came up with this random idea laying awake on my bed and staring at the ceiling. I wrote pretty much most of it, and not to brag or anything, but I think this is my best work humor and grammatical wise :)

We both listened to Radio/Video an ungodly amount of times while making this chapter, so thank you father Serj, we owe ya bro <3

Although Siamese Dream kept me fucking poetically soaring. One of the bestest albums ever wtf its amazing ily Siamese Dream. Cried like twice when Luna started playing, that shit is SAD ASF GODDAMN. Thanks for that, father Billy, ur so metal ily <3

Can't forget ma beautiful golden boys. Bullets kept me alive and still does like every second ever. #IBYMBYBMYLSUPREMACY. Love ya lots pookie Gerard <3333333333333333333333333333

Oh and thank you Mozzie, you save me constantly. Meat Is Murder is better than The Queen Is Dead come at me idgaf I stand by my beliefs. Still love TQID a lot tho, but MIM has my heart (My fav is Barbarism Begins At Home btw. Literal gold. Amen). Thanks for that, old man Mozzah <3

I used this fic as an excuse to bully Bub, idk why I just don't like him, Hub's better. Whatever.

I had so much fun writing this, and hope you had fun reading it :)

Mama loves u chickadoodles <33333

HI PEEPS, Jamal Gripperton here. It's been a long while since we've posted (like 2 months so like a really long time and stuff). There's a lotta things I gotta tell y'all so I'm gonna go through it kinda quickly.

Firstly, sorry for not puttin somethin out for a while its just been a lil busy and stuff and there was a lotta kinnktober, nnn and kinkmas stuff we were gonna put out earlier and stuff.

Thirdly, if you read the first A/N you'd know that Beezy Bee is now Rad Humpty Trumpty which to the new readers that'll see this after all of the chapter endings and stuff are changed this won't really matter but yea Beezy Bee will now reside in our hearts and stuff.

Fourthly, 1.7K?!?!?!?!?!!? WHAT THE ACTUAL FLIPITTY FUCK !?!?!? THANKS LIL PEEPS Literally bouta die cuz alla y'alls are so rad and got a special place in my heart and the journey we've been through so far is like fuckin majestical and I can't put into words how grateful I am for every single one of them reads and the loyal peeps who come back when we drop another banger.

So yea there's that.

(did y'all catch sneaky lil am reference?)

Keep readin this shit, we're really cool.

Have a good one ppls :)

- RadHumptyTrumpty and Jamal Gripperton <3

#storybots #smut #crack fic #hub #bub #this was posted on wattpad on the 20th of december for kinkmas but ive kinda very much delayed puttin it up on here. but its here now so ye

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elysianslove · 3 years

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ah, okay! i just wanted to see your take on yūji and sukuna "sharing" a s/o. you had only started dating yūji recently and, sukuna, being the little attractive shit he is, would sometimes interrupt your quality time, switching out with yūji when you're, say, cuddling, like one second you're running your hands through yūji's hair with him kinda dozing off in your lap, the next thing you know sukuna is smirking up at you. or when you give yūji kisses: a peck on the cheek—sukuna's mouth would appear there, or for long lasting ones, when you pull away, you'll see your "boyfriend" has gained tattoos. at first, sukuna does this solely to annoy you both, but somehow ended up lowkey enjoying the affection you're providing (you weren't bothered that much, most of the time just going along with it—it wasn't like he can switch for long periods of time anyway), so much that they resort to this childish competition over yūji's body; anyways, yeah, headcanons or scenario, whichever you prefer! i hope my specifications aren't a bother—if they are, pls feel free to ignore this request!! tysm 💖

really sorry for this being late oh my gosh. but oh my god all of these scenarios??? anon you made me feel sum type of way on god.

warnings; poly relationship ig? some nonconsensual stuff but it’s not extreme! mention of nsfw

honestly though? you said it all

at the start of your relationship, yuuji would be super hesitant to be alone with you. he has control majority of the time, but it’s always a risk and at least when he’s around many people sukuna isn’t as much of like this itchy nuisance.

sukuna would find the whole idea of the relationship trivial. like he’s watching from the sidelines as you spend more time with yuuji, can feel the swell of emotions threatening to burst in yuuji’s chest. it’s annoying! a waste of time! and it’s not like he kept his opinions a secret. any time yuuji would go out to meet with you, sukuna would be pestering him like you could be using this time to grow in power and train yuuji’s just like bruh on god i will switch with you and jump off a cliff

first few months, sukuna would view you as an itch that won’t go away no matter how bad you scratch at it. he interrupts you two all the time. if you lean in to kiss yuuji’s cheek, sukuna’s mouth is there, licking at your lips to pull you away. jokes on him you’ll lick him back. oh you wanna go skinny dipping at 3 in the morning with yuuji? too bad it’s sukuna now. yuuji’s hands resting on the back of your neck while you kiss/or just because? sukuna’s mouth appears to just bite at you

it’s bothersome and infuriating how unbothered you’re always are about it though. any time he appears you always laugh it off, or annoy him back until he himself goes away. if he switches with your boyfriend, you always roll your eyes and just go, “aight gimme back my bf now.” you’re not being put off by any of this! if anything, he’s finding that it excites you more. puts even more life into your relationship.

he continues to do it anyways, but once, as you’re leaning in to kiss yuuji, sukuna unexpectedly switches with him, but not in time enough for you to notice the change, and you end up kissing sukuna instead. it’s not a passionate, long lasting one, not the same ones sukuna has had to endure watching and feeling yuuji go through. and yes, he can, in some way, feel you when you kiss yuuji, but you’re kissing him now. it’s the same, but it’s incredibly different. it’s soft, slow, and it sends a tingling down sukuna’s spine that he can’t decide whether to hate or love. and in a fit of shock, sukuna realizes that — that it’s good. and he’s kissing you back, and you’re still kissing him. why aren’t you stopping? — he doesn’t want you to stop. shit!

yuuji switches out with sukuna before you pull back and open your eyes, and when you do, you see him just as shocked as sukuna had felt. you’re so confused, asking if he’s okay (“it’s like i’ve never kissed you before what’s wrong?”) but he decides to keep quiet and not mention anything. when he’s alone, he says out loud to an empty room, “did it feel good?” he hadn’t been expecting sukuna’s reply, but it was curt, a short and simple, “yes.” and that was the end of that.

yuuji didn’t like the fact that sukuna had kissed you without your permission, even if it had been accidental. you didn’t know it wasn’t yuuji. and he hated that he hadn’t found the courage to tell you. but he was intrigued at the prospect of sukuna finally accepting you. so in the midst of cuddling you, while you slept in his arms, he shifted with sukuna, unexpectedly and without warning. imagine the curse’s surprise to look down and suddenly see that your arms are wrapped tightly around his middle, your head on his chest as you sigh gently in your sleep. his arms are holding you close to him, and the feeling is only faintly familiar, a sense of deja vu because of sharing yuuji’s body. and then, just like that, it’s over.

again, as he lays with your head on his chest and his eyes on the ceiling above him, yuuji asks sukuna, “did it feel good?” and again, sukuna replies, “yes.”

that’s how the idea of sharing you began. they’re both still yet to discuss it with you, but it’s obvious that it’s weighing heavy on their minds. and because you know him so well, you can tell when yuuji’s been hiding something from you, so you ask him to just out with it. it’s a very interesting conversation. you go from shocked, to neutral, to confused, to intrigued, to teasing. it’s all over the place. but it’s the most shocking to him when you fix him with a determined smile and glance and say, “i wanna try.”

it’s very clumsy at first. sukuna and yuuji fight over yuuji’s body like fucking children. you have to like establish ground rules and some sort of routine to actually get them to settle down. nights are altered between them, with who gets to sleep next to you — one night yuuji, one night sukuna, unless either one of them is experiencing a bad day of sorts. you give two kisses now instead of one, and it’s very comical because you kiss yuuji, he steps back and he’s essentially the same person but with??? tattoos??? sukuna’s not a fan of dates, so it’s always yuuji taking you out, but nights in are really endearing with sukuna, because he gives incredible massages while in the bath with you. like i said, at first, it’s all over the place because they make it out to be some sort of competition between them, but then steadily they fall into a rhythm.

i’ll briefly talk about nsfw. this is something they cannot, for the life of them, get accustomed with. if yuuji’s being a lil shit to sukuna for the day, he will switch out with him right as yuuji’s about to orgasm just because. wow king of edging and orgasm denial! he switches out with yuuji a lot, especially when it comes to you going down on him (them?). it’s not like yuuji doesn’t do it back, because he does. he so does, especially with how he has more control than sukuna does. the one thing that they can agree on is pleasuring you, and it’s always a priority no matter who holds the reigns on yuuji’s body at the time. sometimes you’ll need sukuna to be absolutely ruthless with you and split you in half and yuuji will respect that, because sometimes you need the mixture of yuuji’s soft hands and rough thrusts instead. it’s all about the balance, my loves.

anyways! i feel like i have more to say but i can’t think of anything else rn. being with sukuna and yuuji? best of both worlds. the end!

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna headcanons #sukuna smut #yuji itadori x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori smut #itadori yuuji smut #itadori x reader x sukuna #yuuji x reader x sukuna

8K notes · View notes

leossmoonn · 3 years

Text

Play Ground Days

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x fem!reader

type - fluff

note / request - “ughh FINALLY someone that writes good imagines abt carl from shameless! could you write one where you two grew up together and you've always been close n stuff and then at some point he realizes he loves the reader and he talks to ian and lip (maybe mickey too bc i love him) about it? (fem!reader btw if that's cool) thanks babe xx” thanks for inspo on the beginning @poesflygirl <3 ,,, carl and you are 16 also pls dont come for me ive only played COD 2 times last year so lmao i dont remember a lot about it, enjoy!

summary - carl has liked you since you two were young, and seeks advice from his brothers and mickey

warnings - strong language, drugs and alcohol, little talk about bad body imagine

————

*gif isnt mine*

“I fucking knew it!” Lip exclaimed.

“Why are you telling us? We’ve known this.” Ian commented, smirking at his little brother.

“How the hell—” Carl started.

“You’re not exactly great at hiding your crush on her,” Mickey chuckled.

Carl’s eyes were the size of saucers. “You knew?”

“Of course I did. I’m not fucking Helen Keller,” Mickey rolled his eyes.

Carl groaned and ran his hands roughly through his hair. “I can’t believe this. Well, secret’s out, I guess. What do I do?”

“Just go tell her you like her. It’s not like she’s going to turn you down.” Lip shrugged, putting his cigarette to his lips.

“Lip!” Ian hit his brother’s shoulder.

“What?” Lip asked.

“You weren’t supposed to say that, dumbass,” Mickey said.

“What does that mean?” Carl asked, looking in-between his brother’s and Mickey.

Lip sighed. “Ah, shit, right. I’ve already said too much.”

————

4 hours earlier: 2:00 PM

“Hey, shit head!” She called out, throwing rocks against the window.

Carl got up from his bed, shocked but happy to see her. He opened his window, leaning against the frame.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked.

She threw the rocks to the ground. “Escaping from my druggie dad, duh. What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Carl shrugged.

She did her signature smirk that always made Carl’s heart flutter. “Wanna go and stuff our faces at Patsy’s Pies?”

Carl’s eyes lit up at the mention of fatty, greasy food. “Hell yeah. I’ll come down.”

She nodded, going to the front of their house. Carl ran down the stairs, putting on his shoes and opening the door to find her on the steps.

“Hey, why didn’t you just come into the house?” Carl asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Putting damage on your window seemed more fun. Oh, hey! Do you have an extra bed I can sleep in tonight?” She asked.

Carl nodded. “Yeah, of course. Your dad is that bad, huh?”

“Yep, he relapsed. Super fun,” she laughed sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. That shit sucks,” Carl said.

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s life. Anyways, ready to go?”

Carl nodded. They got into her car, the girl starting it and driving fast to the dinner. As she was driving, humming to the songs on the radio, Carl stared at her. She was absolutely gorgeous.

Her name was Y/n L/n. Carl’s oldest and only real friend. They had grown up together, Y/n living only a few houses away from him. They had met in detention in 1st grade and had been close ever since.

“What’re you staring at?” Y/n asked, glancing over to him.

Carl blushed. “Nothing.”

“Alright,” Y/n sang.

Carl had often been caught staring at her. It was something he usually did from time to time, but now it was more often. He couldn’t help it. There was something about her. Maybe flawless her skin was, how pretty and bright her smile and eyes were, the way she would make him feel secure and loved, something he had never got from anyone consitently.

He never really knew why he thought those things about her. People had told him that he probably had a crush on her, but he knew that wasn’t right. He had crushes on girls before and the things he was feeling for Y/n were a lot different than what he had felt for his past girlfriends. He figured it was just that she was his closest friend and he happened to be a horny teenager, so naturally, he just thought those things about her. But oh, how wrong he actually was.

Y/n parked her car at Patsy’s Pies. They walked into the diner, seeing Fiona at the register.

“Hey, Fi,” Y/n smiled.

“Hey, Y/n, Carl! Long time, no see. How are ya?” Fiona asked.

“Good, good,” Y/n smiled.

“Good,” Carl said.

“Great! Well, get yourself seated and someone will be right with you,” she smiled.

Y/n and walked off to a small booth and sat down. They picked up the menus that were already on the table.

“You gonna get your usual?” Y/n asked.

Carl shrugged. “Maybe. Should I change it up?”

“Yes. The double bacon cheeseburger looks good,” Y/n said.

“Are you getting that?” Carl asked.

“Maybe. I’ll probably get a salad or something. Gotta watch those calories, you know?” She half-joked, putting a hand on her stomach.

“I think you look good. You don’t need to worry,” Carl smiled.

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Carl nodded.

Y/n looked back at the menu, hiding her embarrassment.

Carl complimenting her was something that was rare, but did happen. Y/n never remembered Carl as a romantic type of guy, but it seems that he had developed those traits from having a few girlfriends. She liked that, actually. She liked him complimenting her, staring at her for minutes at a time, the way his ears would turn red when she teased him. She liked all of that.

Y/n would never admit it to anyone, but she had a crush on Carl. She had a crush on him since their freshman year of high school. Well, in reality, she probably has always had one, but the first time she really realised she liked him was in biology when he got in trouble in one of the labs. She remembered when the teacher was yelling at him and he looked at her, smiling at her mischievously and winking at her. That wink had her heart racing and mind go foggy. From then on, she had liked him as more than a friend. Yet, she never said anything because well, as cliche as it was, she was afraid of ruining their friendship. He was really the only one who got her and who never abandoned her. She couldn’t lose him, so she just kept her feelings and gestures to him as friendly as she could.

“Hi, I’m Carly and I’ll be serving you today. What can I get you today?” The waitress asked.

“Hi, can I get the philly cheesesteak with a medium coke and fries,” Carl ordered.

Carly nodded and wrote his order down, turning to Y/n.

“Um, I’ll get the bacon cheeseburger with a small sprite and fries. Thanks,” Y/n ordered.

Carly took their menus. “Great. I’ll have your drinks out soon.”

Y/n and Carl smiled at the waitress as she walked away.

“Hey, so I thought your dad was in rehab,” Carl said.

Y/n sighed. “He was, but I guess his girlfriend got him drunk, then convinced him to do some lines. God, I can’t believe he's even with her still.”

Carl frowned. “What about your mom? Where’s she?”

“She’s going to nursing school right now. She’s the only one responsible in this family, yet she never calls or anything,” she scoffed.

“You’re really responsible,” Carl said.

Y/n smiled. “Thanks, C. You are, too.”

Carl laughed, “Me? I sold drugs on the streets once.”

She giggled. “True. But you’ve really shaped. I'm proud.”

Carl smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”

Y/n hummed a ‘you’re welcome’. Carly came back with their food quickly and they dug in. Carl and Y/n spent their time talking and eating, spending about 2 hours there as they just kept talking.

“Are you two finished?” Carly asked, gesturing to their empty plates.

“Yeah,” Carl nodded.

“Great. Here’s your bill, pay whenever you’re ready,” Carly smiled and took their dirty dishes.

“Ready to go?” Y/n asked.

Carl nodded and got out his wallet that he had in his shorts. Meanwhile, Y/n also got out her wallet. They both looked up at each other, awkward expressions on their faces.

“Oh, I was gonna pay,” Carl said. “No, no, my treat. I invited you here,” Y/n said.

“You sure?” Carl asked.

She smiled and put a hand on his arm. “Yes, I am, Carl.”

Butterflies irrupted in Carl’s stomach as she touched him. He nodded slowly, putting his credit card away. Y/n and him walked up to the register and paid for their meal. They then went back to Y/n car.

“What do you wanna do now?” Y/n asked.

“Wanna play COD Black Ops 3?” Carl asked.

“Yes!” Y/n smiled. She drove them back to his house, parking haphazardly on the street.

The two hurried into the house, grabbing a seat on the couch. Carl got the controllers, turning onto the playstation. Y/n logged onto her account, selecting the gun she wanted to use. Carl then started the game.

“Where are you?” Y/n squinted her eyes at the screen.

“Right behind you,” Carl smirked.

Y/n turned around, gasping as Carl shot her.

“Fuck you!” Y/n exclaimed.

“Little rusty, huh?” Carl teased. She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna kill you next round.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Carl said.

“Winner gets to pick what’s for dinner,” Y/n said.

“Deal,” Carl nodded.

The pair played for a couple hours, the game ending with Y/n getting the last kill.

“Good game,” she smirked, setting the controller down.

“I forgot how good you were at this,” Carl frowned. Y/n giggled, “I forgot how bad you were.”

Carl rolled his eyes with a smile. “Alright, where do you want to eat?”

“Hm… Noodles n Company?” She suggested.

“Sure,” Carl nodded.

“Alright, I’m gonna use the bathroom and then order. Text me what you want,” Y/n said, getting up from the couch.

Carl nodded and watched her go upstairs to use the bathroom. Then that’s when Lip, Ian, and Mickey all came into the house.

“Hey, guys,” Carl said.

“Hey,” Ian smiled.

“Is Y/n here? We saw her car out front,” Lip said. “Yeah, she is,” Carl nodded.

“Asked her out yet?” Lip smirked. Carl’s face turned red. “Wh-What?”

“Oh, you’re not in love with her then?” Ian furrowed his brows.

“I… am I?” Carl asked.

Ian chuckled. “Yeah. You always are always happy around her, blush whenever she teases you.”

“And you’re always staring at her,” Lip added.

“That doesn’t mean I like her,” Carl said.

“Do feel dizzy and nauseous when she touches you? Does your heart race when she gets close? Do you see yourself kissing her? Would you do anything for her?” Ian asked.

Carl furrowed his brows. They were right, all those things did happen when she was near. She was his best friend. He also sometimes think about kissing her and being with her in a romantic way. And yeah, of course he would do anything for her. Maybe… Maybe he did love her.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “I… I guess I am in love with her.”

And that, ladies and gents, is where we left off. Lip, Ian, and Mickey teased Carl until Carl begged them for real help.

“What do you mean?” Carl asked anxiously.

Lip looked to Ian and Mickey for help on what to say. Little did Carl know, Y/n actually did admit her crush to someone. And that someone, or someones, were Lip, Ian, and Mickey.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Mickey said.

“Did she say something to you?” Carl asked. “No,” Ian shook his head. “Like Mick said, don’t worry.”

“I… fine. Well, what do I do then?” Carl asked in slight distress.

“Give her some flowers and chocolate. Girls love that shit,” Lip suggested.

“Alright,” Carl nodded. “I don’t know what her favourite flowers are, though.”

“Just get her roses. That’s really romantic,” Lip said.

Carl smiled, “Alright. Awesome. Thanks, guys.”

He decided to get the flowers early morning tomorrow before Y/n woke up.

————

Carl sneaked back into the house, hoping not to wake Y/n up. As he walked into the kitchen, he was shocked to see her at the table drinking coffee.

“Hey, Carl!” Y/n smiled.

Carl’s eyes were blown wide. “I.. uh…”

“Who are those for?” Y/n got up and pointed to the flowers and chocolate in his hand.

“Um… you?” Carl said. Y/n smiled. “Me? What did I do to deserve this?”

Carl knew that he couldn’t make up an excuse. He was horrible at lying to her. So, he decided to just have his confession here.

“I.. I’m in love with you,” Carl said. Y/n’s jaw dropped and she froze. “Wha-What?”

“My brothers and Mickey helped me realise I was yesterday when you were ordering dinner. They told me I should get you flowers and stuff so I did. I hope you like roses,” Carl explained and held up the gifts.

Y/n’s lips upturned in a wide smile. “How long have you liked me?”

“Honestly, probably since we were little,” Carl shrugged sheepishly.

Y/n giggled. “Me, too.”

“Really?” Carl smiled.

Y/n waked up to him and took the gifts, setting them on the kitchen counter. She went up to him and put her arms around his neck.

“Yep. I always have,” she grinned.

“Oh, sick!” Carl exclaimed. “Oh wait.”

“What?” Y/n asked in confusion.

“That’s what they meant!” Carl exclaimed in realisation.

“Who? What?” “Oh, Lip, Mickey, and Ian kind of told me yesterday when I asked for help,” Carl explained.

Y/n’s eyes widened and she turned to the stairs, glaring. “Mickey, Lip, Ian! You better fucking run!”

————

Like and Reblog!

add yourself to the taglist here

taglist (crossed out means i couldnt tag)

@kaitieskidmore1 @the-anxious-youth @little-miss-naill @powerpuffluuvv

#carl gallagher x reader #carl gallagher #carl gallagher imagine #carl gallagher imagines #carl gallagher fluff #carl gallagher x reader fluff #shameless #shameless imagine #lip gallagher #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich

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darthwheezely · 3 years

Text

nsfw alphabet - g.w.

a/n: dni 18+ you better not even think about it smols because i will be checking for ages :)) anyways y’all know the drill i’m a whore woop woop

here we GO:

a - aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he is the most caring man, i swear to god. this boy will carry you to the bathtub, wash you off, wash your hair, do your skin

b - body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

this man loves his arms. would toss a bitch up if someone says shit about his arms. pls worship them for me i’m begging-

c - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he actually doesn’t enjoy finishing on your body as much as it’s shooting a hot load inside you or filling your throat to the brim. yeah. that’s it for him <3 your ass too though if he really thought about it

d - dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he gets very turned on by you when you’re on your period. the idea of you just constantly being warm and soft and horny and dumb for his commands makes him a bIT UNHINGED. but it’s mostly for when you bleed through your pants and you get SUPER EMBARRASSED. he has a massive humiliation kink. just a kinky mans.

e - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

this man has been with every organism that resembles human on this planet like as long as you can utter a safe word, this man gonna take care of you <3

f - favorite position

69 or doggy 100%. but this man does and will do anything once and whatever will make you happy

g - goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s casually goofy. like lazy goofy. like we’re talking you riding him with his hands behind his head and this lazy smile on his face. how fucking sexy

h - hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

VERY soft and VERY well groomed. the carpet does in fact match the drapes hOWEVER,,,he will switch it up and dye his pubes like blue sometimes. for shock value yk.

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

the most intimate fucking man on the pLANET BARKBARKBARK he just. candles. flowers. the whole damn circus. but also: if he just wants a rough fuck he’ll make it vERY CLEAR TO YOU

j - jack off (masturbation headcanon)

this man has a nice healthy relationship with jacking off. not a shit ton like Fred, but he usually does it when he’s ANGRY and he has nothing to fuck. he just growls and fucks his fist until he creams everywhere xoxo

k - kink (one or more of their kinks)

breeding, sleeping beauty, BDSM, DDLG, blood, sadism/masochism

l - location (favorite places to do the do)

bed is his first choice but he also really loves fucking on carpets. he loves getting those sexy ass rug burns that proven

m - motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

listen, anything gets him going - but when a person is MAD AT HIM?! oh good LOOOORD. like he gets this smug little smirk on his face as he watches you go off on him and all he can do is think about pounding the rage out of your system

n - no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

george loves to see you cry and get over stimulated, but a hard no for him is if you start to push him away or mumble the word no in any way

o - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

you’d think he was an 100% giver, but it’s definitely 50/50. giving is his forte but he does like to lay back and push a damn head or two when he’s able :))

p - pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

george is that healthy, lazy, medium between too fast and love makingly slow. he usually hovers on the faster side of life, but if it’s extra intimate and time for making some lovin fresh, he will accommodate to that and go slower

q - quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

is there a saint quickie because if so he worships them day and night, this man will die on a HILL for quickies (these weasley men I tell ya smh)

r - risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

maybe it’s the exhibitionist in him but boy oh boy does he love risk. he loves the adrenaline rush and the fear in your eyes of “Georgie, we could get caught,” or “Georgie, ‘m scared” it’s all the more arousing to this man

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

this man is solar powered i swear to god, he just goes on and on and on and on. them rounds be l o n g

t - toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he and fred are toy makers, babes, WHAT DO YOU THINK

u - unfair (how much they like to tease)

the way i like to explain it is that sex with fred sends you to the hospital, sex with george sends you to psychotherapy. so. take that as you will.

v - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not as loud as fred, he makes a lot of noise, but it’s usually very low and gravelly and grunts a L O T

w - wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he is a dom leaning switch, like fred, but the difference between the two is that george is MUCH more subby than his twin, and getting him in that headspace is pretty damn easy when he’s feeling whiny.

x - x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

11.7, like Fred, but a bit more curve to him to fit allllll those lovely nooks and crannies of your body :)). also smooth as hell like his skin is just soft and lovely just CHEFS KISS ALL AROUND XXX

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

george weasley constantly is in mating season, i do not know how else to tell y’all

z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

okay not to be creepy or a la edward cullen but after you pass out, he’s usually awake and brushing your forehead and eyebrows to help you fall asleep. he’s not like Fred where fred gets manic after a single round, he tends to be pretty calm after one, but, like Fred after about six or seven rounds, he will pass out pretty hard after

#George weasley x reader #George weasley #George weasley headcanons

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bibbykins · 3 years

Text

Cookies and Fingertips (M)

Some Jimin loving! We love to see it! I hope you all enjoy this installation as I try to figure out how to properly flesh out characters in a drabble series. Am not sure how I’m doing there but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless. As always, tips are not required but greatly appreciated, just like your thoughts! Pls share your thoughts though, they brighten my day!

Note: This is part of a drabble series The Household’s Bunny

Summary: You and Jimin met long before you moved in, and yet, you’re not sure if he even likes you. So what else is there to do but take every opportunity to talk to him until you figure it out?

Jimin has had a debilitating crush on you long before you moved in and he is almost positive there is no way you’d feel the same. And yet, he doesn’t have the strength to properly avoid you.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+, soft yandere-ish, obsessive thoughts, possessive thoughts, fingering, handjob, subspace, cum eating (sorta?), discussion of hospitalization, mentions of a stalker, mentions of passing out, the word “fat” is used, a moment of thigh riding, surprise kiss, insecurity

Jimin looked across the courtyard as his eyes remained fixated on your form. You were a simple second year in college and he was just a breath away from graduating. He first laid eyes on you a mere year ago and he can't remember what life was truly like before you smiled at him. You both had only ever exchanged pleasantries, so he opted to wait for the right time to make his move.

“That’s not true.” Your voice snapped Jimin from his staring contest with the PowerPoint slides, “That’s an antiquated idea, not a proven theory.” He looked to you, a couple rows down. You were plump and cute to say the least. He recognized you from a few of his courses. He had heard you were a double major in Art and… damn, what was the other?

The man you had rebutted had his face turning red, “It is proven, it was studied in 1973 with significant results yielded.” Jimin had no idea what you both were debating but he watched a sea of student nod in agreeance with you, some with the guy. What class was he even in? He looked at the PowerPoint slides, reading them for the first time today. Ah, he was in his psych of gender class. Maybe you were a psych major.

“In 1973, with no women in the participant pool, are you not seeing the issue in making a multi-gendered generalization whilst utilizing one genders perspective, a perspective that is also quite dated, mind you?” You cocked a brow and Jimin found himself a bit amused at the man who scoffed.

“You learn those words in high school two months ago?” He snapped back and Jimin grimaced along with most of the lecture hall.

“What? You need me to define them?” You quipped, eliciting some laughter as the professor regrouped.

“Ah, educational discourse.” The professor joked lightly as Jimin’s eyes remained fixed on you as you noticed a few lingering gazes on you, shrinking in your seat.

He saw you in the lunch hall, sitting alone, not uncommon for anyone in college, except your eyes were a bit puffy. Before he could even question the urge, he acted. Within a few steps, he was at your table and you looked up in confusion, “Uh, hi?” You meekly spoke and Jimin realized he had no plan.

“U-Uh, you… uh… do you like the cookies?” He forced out and immediately wished he could disappear.

You looked down at the cookie on your plate, “Uh, yes? Is-Is this a fat joke or do you actually want to know?” You asked cautiously.

Jimin’s eyes widened, “No, I mean yes, I mean no, I would never make fun of your weight.” He squeezed his eyes and sighed, not able to see your growing smile at his mental turmoil, “I have psych of gender with you and people rarely talk in that class so I thought you were pretty cool.” He smiled and he noticed you relax.

You nodded, smiling slightly, “Ah, I see. Thank you.” You beamed and it was like he felt the warmth from you, “I don’t do super well with attention but I also have poor impulse control.” You chuckled and he finally understood why you had cried and his heart strings were tugged a bit, “And yes, the cookies are good.” You split one in half and offered it to him.

Life goes by a lot quicker when one waits for the perfect opportunity. This much he found out quickly when he found himself a year later, looking across the courtyard at you, this time as your TA. He tried dating to get the daunting idea of talking to you after that singular interaction in which he forgot to give you his name from his mind to no avail. No matter, surely this would be the year.

”Jiminie is so hot!” Jimin continued to pretend not to hear his ex, Yoora, whine in your ear as he observed the intro to modern dance class.

You looked to her thoughtfully as you stretched, “You mean the TA, that is not that far away?” Your voice was lowered, but he could still hear you. He found himself listening closer, wondering if you remembered the singular interaction you both had. Yoora nodded in the corner of his eye.

“Yep.” She affirmed, “We dated, it was magical, and he’s still hot.” She mused and Jimin grimaced a bit, feeling bad he dated a girl that seemed to be a decent friend of yours, “Do you know him?”

Jimin perked up a bit, “We talked once, seems nice, is obviously hot.” You shrugged, “I doubt he remembers me, though.” You leaned down to reach past your left foot as Yoora urged you on with her eyes, “I had gotten into a weird debate with this one dude in a class we had and he saw me after, and I had just cried because I hate arguing and stares.” You and Yoora laughed a bit, “Then, he just came up to me and asked if I liked the cookies I were eating, and I wasn’t sure if he was calling me fat at first.” Yoora gasped and Jimin felt pain just thinking about the awkwardness, “He wasn’t, and he got cutely flustered when I asked and then I gave him half of my cookie and that’s all.” You moved to your other leg, “And then he never talked to me again.” You laughed and Jimin wanted the floor to swallow him.

Another year goes by. The day before he was going to try and ask you out, you were hospitalized. He didn't know how to even approach the topic with you, but he did try to be there for you throughout that year. The professor he was TA for insisted Jimin also utilize his emails, so all throughout your brief stay in medical care, it was him who received your bubbly emails. The emails full of little emoticons and exclamation points that made him giddy and took him hours to conceptualize a response to. Although you didn't know it was him giving you extensions and safe regards, he still meant it.

He was practicing when he got the email,

“Attention students,

We have received knowledge of an incident that has resulted in the hospitalization of a student that occurred within an apartment close to campus. Proper authorities have been notified and the student is recovering well. Please remain safe and vigilant.”

His face twisted in confusion when he got a text from the professor he was TA for that you were the student in question.

Throughout the semester, Jimin watched you with careful eyes as you slowly acclimated back to yourself. He wondered how he could have been so blinded by your smile that he couldn't properly see your eye bags or the way you looked over your shoulder when you thought no one was looking at you, or how he couldn't see he wasn't the only one looking at you.

When you returned, he watched your eyes relax and your guard go down again. He just wished he could've been there to help you get there. He trudged home one day and found you, and then his whole world was flipped by you again.

Since moving in, he found himself way more advanced with you than he ever imagined. You would plop next to him on the couch and give him a smile, "How was your day, Jiminie?" You beamed at him each time and he nearly choked on his spit each time.

He would mumble an answer and you would hum before watching TV with him, a show he deliberately put on each time he heard you come home. Eventually, you began watching competition shows together, theorizing who would win what. It was comfortable and close, and he found himself falling for you even harder.

"Do you wanna have lunch together?" Your voice pulled him from his thoughts in the practice room he had on his floor in the building. He had agreed to help with your final. The only time he could talk to you without it being a mental nightmare was when it was about dancing. The only time he could initiate contact was in this studio.

The studio gave him a certain air of confidence that even you could see. He wasn't a different person, more so multi-faceted. There was the shy and bumbling part of Jimin just as much as there was the sharp-eyed and focused Jimin. Not to mention the way his fingers would dance on your form as he gave you pointers made you unreasonably aroused.

Even so, determined to challenge himself, he nodded, "Lead the way." His voice was smooth even after two straight hours of practice and you wondered how he could look so hot work out clothes.

You both decided to pick up food and eat it at the studio. You sat across from each other as you ate in polite conversation. It was after you both picked up the food and sat on the floor you spoke up again, "You know, Jiminie." You started, eyes shyly fixated on the floor, "I wanted to thank you for not telling the guys about my, uh, incident a year ago." You finally looked him in the eyes, a soft smile on your face, "Not that it's a huge secret, especially on campus, but I just prefer to tell people myself." You mused.

He blinked, surprised you would thank him for something like that, "O-Of course, I mean, a lot of rumors were going around anyways, so even if I did want to tell them, I doubt I have only the facts." He shrugged, "It's not anyone else's business regardless."

You stifled a little giggle, "Yeah, some of the stories got a bit crazy." You sighed a bit, "From a stalker attacking me to me passing out in the middle of the street." Jimin looked up at you. You didn’t meet his gaze, most likely reliving the aftermath of the whole campus finding out you were hospitalized and are a cam girl in the same week. Not that you were ever hiding you job, but you just wished you could tell people on your own terms.

"Yeah, some crazy things get told in the Arts department." He murmured, "I only knew most of the facts because your TA for Professor Lee's class."

It was your turn to look up, but instead of confusion he saw a polite smile, "I know, silly." You chuckled and when you saw his confused face you looked at him incredulously, "Come on, you're Park Jimin! Of course I'm gonna know the 'hottest dance major'" You fake gushed and he finally broke a laugh, making you giddy.

"Of all things to know me by." He shook his head, smile still present.

You studied his face as his eyes scrunched and cheeks lifted, making you smile as well, "I've never made you smile before and your smile is so pretty." You mused, "I need to step up my comedy game."

"You've never seen me smile?" He looked surprised at this, considering he always smiled like an idiot when he stared longingly at you.

"I mean, sort of, but not to this degree." You shook your head, "I was starting to think you didn't like me for a while."

His eyes widened at this and he panicked, "No, no! I do like you, a lot!" He exclaimed, much to your amusement and to his dismay. You watched him get red with a grin.

He stammered, staring at his fork before he heard your melodious laugh. He looked up and his face softened at the sight of your smile, "You're too cute, Jiminie." You reached forward and pinched his cheek, making his breath hitch. Your cooing tone made something click inside him. He didn't want to be just cute to you, he wanted to be more than any adjective, he wanted to be yours.

He reached up, hand going to wrap around your wrist loosely, "I was the hottest a second ago and now I'm just cute?" A glint of confidence shown in his eye as he made you gulp, "Is that all you think of me, y/n?" Your own name coming from his mouth sent a shiver down your spine and a beat to your core.

You were in a trance while being eyed by the man with a vastly different energy than he had just moments ago. You shook your head lightly, "I think you're beautiful." He cocked a brow and you scrambled for more words, "I had a huge crush on you from the moment I gave you half of my cookie." You breathed before even thinking, snapping you back to reality as you watched his eyes widen, "Ah, me and my mouth!" You admonished yourself, "I didn't mean to make you uncomf-" You frantically moved to take your hand back only for his grip to tighten, pulling you forward, placing your hand at the nape of his neck while his arm wrapped around your waist.

You gulped at the newfound closeness, bodies nearly pressing against each other as he eyed you sharply, "Do you mean it?" He breathed, "You had a crush on me?" You made a move to slink away, but you he gracefully laid himself down with you on top of him, his thigh mere centimeters from your core and he gave you a mischievous smile, "Don't leave me hanging." He teased.

"I-I mean… yes, but can-"

He cut you off with a sigh and a laugh. You braced yourself for him to laugh at you, and say how weird it would be had you confessed and how weird the idea of you two together would be.

It's a song and dance you've seen many times as a hopeless romantic chubby girl. Of course, now you know you were just too much woman for such little men, emotionally little at the very least, but you would be a liar if you didn't still feel the hurt of humiliation. The last thing you wanted was to look into Jimin's eyes and find the same pitying glint, but you were nothing if not a bit brave, at least sometimes.

You forced your eyes from his chest to his gaze and found… an emotion you've only every seen in the eyes of your housemates, an emotion you don't quite know yet, even if you felt it too. At your curiosity, Jimin beamed at you further, "I'd be really frustrated right now if you weren’t on top of me." He chuckled a bit and explained further before you could ask why, "I have had such a huge crush on you for years now." You balk at this, shaking you head.

"That's not a funny joke, Jiminie." You huffed, "If I were even a bit more gullible, I would seriously believe you and then my feelings would be hurt-" He pulled you flush against him as he captured your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. He was slow, but focused, in the way his mouth moved against yours.

Inside, though, Jimin was freaking out. What if you didn't actually want to kiss him? Why didn't he ask beforehand? Should he pull away? But your mouth feels so good. Are you kissing him back or is he just that enthusiastic?

You laid his worries to rest when you used the hand at his nape to pull him closer, mouth opening to nibble on his bottom lip. He groaned lightly, pulling you closer as his tongue mingled with your own and he pressed his thigh into the thin material of your leggings. You gasped at this and it was like a fire lit within him as he sat up and shifted you for your legs to be on both sides of him as he pressed his mouth onto yours further.

His fingertips danced along your form in a much different context than you were used to, but fuck, did it feel nice. Where one arm was securely holding your waist, his hand reached beneath your shirt, getting accustomed to the soft skin as he waited for you to nod. You wanted him to touch you further. You didn't understand what all these hot men wanted with you, but right now, it didn't matter one bit.

Jimin's eyes rolled back when he reached in your sports bra to run his fingers over your hardened nipples. You twitched against him as you gasped, fingers intertwining with his hair roughly, "Shit." He groaned at the sensation.

You both sloppily kissed as he explored your chest with his hands, moaning into each other's mouths at the euphoria of unresolved feelings coming to fruition and the sexual tension finally snapping as you gave him unrestricted access to feel you beneath his fingertips, "Wanted this for so long." He murmurs into your mouth, "So beautiful, fuck." The praises don't stop, and only further spur you wandering hand on as you feel his sculpted stomach.

"Wanna touch you." You whine as your fingers play with the waistband of his sweats and he nods, his own hand travelling down to cup your core, making you squeak, "Fuck, I'm so wet." You realized, half embarrassed and half aroused.

You could feel his amusement as he slipped his hand beneath your tights and panties to make skin to skin contact with your soaked core, and he didn't know how he made it this far, but he just wants to keep going as he feels you soak his hand, "Yeah, baby, you are, just for me." He moans when you follow his lead, hand wrapping around his hardened erection and giving a small squeeze, "Shit!" He gasps as you wiggled your hips against his hand, grinding yourself little by little.

Your hand massaged the head, smearing the precum as you begin stroking him. You both continue moaning into each other's mouths as his hips jerked and you twitched against his hands, "So fucking wet, baby, so sexy." He growled and he slipped a finger inside of you, him groaning at your pulsating warmth wrapped around his finger, "Slid right in, angel." He praises and you let out a choked gasp and he presses his thumb against your clit.

He drank your moans into his mouth like they were an oasis in the desert, and he’s not sure how he’s lived this long without them. Without you by his side and in his arms. He held you close, refusing to even consider loosening his grip because your body against his was bliss in the highest form. You were his, even if just in this moment, and you would be nobody else’s. Nobody could make him feel the way you do, and he, along with the other men that resided in the building, were determined to hold the same monopoly over your emotions. He refused to entertain the idea of anyone beyond this building making you feel anything close to what he was now as he pushed a second finger in, relishing in the strangled moan you gave as you babbled about feeling full.

With the excitement of his dream girl dripping against his hand and your own hand working expertly on his dick, Jimin could feel himself getting close and you could tell from the breathy whines he gave you as he began thrusting his hips in time with his fingers inside you, "Cum for me, Jiminie." You purred before licking at his tongue and he came beautifully with his eyes screwed shut and mouth open as you swiveled your hips agains his, now two, fingers.

"Baby, so good." He whined as his high settled down. He shifted all focus to you and your impending orgasm as he watched you fuck yourself onto his hand, "Feeling good, darling?" He asked teasingly and you nodded dumbly, lips pressed together as you felt your high approach, "I can feel you clenching around my fingers, fuck, you gonna cum in my hand all pretty?" He cooed and you nodded as he met your thrusts, making you clutch onto him harder.

"Can I cum?" You whimpered and Jimin could almost feel himself get hard again at how willing you were to give him the reigns.

"Because you asked so sweetly, of course my love." He let the name slip before you both could even acknowledge it consciously. However, the closeness and the intimacy of it all sent you over the edge and you bit down on his shoulder in attempt to hide how loud you were. He held you close, not minding one bit at the mark you were surely leaving as he fucked you through your orgasm, "Felt good, angel?" He mused and you tucked your face into his neck as you nodded, holding him close as his finger stilled but kept you full until he felt you relax.

You both giggled as you met eyes, licking the other person's cum off of your hands, "Thank you Jiminie." You hummed cheerily.

"Thank you, bunny." He chided before giving you a kiss, "We all really, really, like you, you know that right?" He asked and noticed your hesitation.

"Sure, but people can be sexually attracted to me and not want to… be with me." You spoke wistfully, "People can like me and not want to be with me." You let out a humorless laugh, "And few things make me feel as dumb as getting my hopes up for no reason." Although you had a tendency to do it time and time again.

"Don't be scared to assume we want you as much as you, hopefully, want us." He spoke quickly before he planted another kiss on you and the affection made you smile.

"You realize the irony of the statement coming from you, right?" You chuckled as he helped you stand on shaky legs before just carrying you, "I cum once for you and all of sudden you know everything and are all confident." You chided, unsure how to process his words yet, mind hazy from your orgasm.

"What can I say? You opened my third eye." He joked and you rolled your eyes before leaning your head on his shoulder, enjoying his embrace, the idea of your housemates loving you back seeming just slightly less like an outlandish fantasy, "Although, it will wear off and then we'll have to do it all over again." He sighed dramatically and you giggled.

"What a shame." You fake gasped, "I hate engaging in sexual relations with hot guys." You complained sarcastically.

"So you do think I'm hot!" Jimin cheered triumphantly.

You laughed against him and realized the only times you felt so free were with your beloved housemates. You wondered if they felt the same. You also found a more insecure part wondering for how long they would feel that way. How long would it be until a girl, or several, much prettier than you or less needy catches their attention. You wondered if you could take the pain of watching the sincerity drain from their eyes just as you've seen in your mom, your dad, your uncle, your first relationship to your last. You wondered what it was about you that made it so easy to be left behind.

Jimin's phone pinged, ripping you from your melancholic thoughts. He sighed, pulling it out and you fought the urge to see if it was another person vying for his romantic attention. He didn't belong to you, even if you wanted him to, "Ah, Namjoon wants to know if you want the demo for the new zombie game he's working on and Jin wants to know if you'd like your first pick of the new stickers he got, and Hoseok wants to try a new hairstyle on you and ah, they all sent me something to ask you…. Gosh, they all think I'm your secretary when we're together." He whined and you held onto him tighter with a light laugh as he went through everyone's inquiries for you.

You also found yourself how you went on this long without them and how you could even consider hesitating if they asked you to stay with them for much longer.

Tip Jar

#yandere bts #bts au #bts fanfic #bts smut #jimin smut #park jimin #yandere jimin #yandere bts smut #yandere smut #the household bts

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buckystarlight · 3 years

Text

A Blessing, Beautiful And True

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns; swearing if you squint; mentions of death; mentions of food

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old fics that i absolutely hated with my entire being. i hate this a little bit less djaksjsjs also pls ignore how i literally cannot write a good ending to save my life.

dedicated to @xsamsharons for lending me her name. i hope i did it justice mi amor ily <3

Bucky learnt to value things.

Not the great, terribly material things people around him seemed to rush after. Not money, not even when he was barely getting by.

No, for Bucky, it was the small, seemingly insignificant things.

The tiny toy WWII soldier figurine he found at a yard sale one Tuesday afternoon, the one with the missing arm. The near-exact model of the car his father used to drive—rusted around the tiny steel axel, the rubber wheels worn from use. That yellow screwdriver set that sat at the very back of the tool cabinet in the garage, unusable because of the cracked plastic handles and rusted steel, that looked exactly like the kit he had once used to fix up the plumbing in his first apartment.

Bucky was used to valuing the broken little things.

He never truly understood what loving something whole, something complete felt like—not until he met you.

You, in your white sweater and blue jeans, hair tossed up in a braid. You, your eyes that dancing with unbroken light, like the rays of the sun on the ocean on a bright summer’s day. You, with the sort of kindness he never truly thought he would ever be worthy of, not until you showed him that he was.

You, the girl he fell in love with before he could ever truly know what love was.

Steve might’ve been the first to notice. He was with him that day, the day he first saw you. They had been hunting for a Christmas present for Tony, and even though Bucky wasn’t exactly thrilled to have to attend, he wasn’t about to show up empty handed.

Steve didn’t even realize that the sly-footed assassin wasn’t by his side until he had walked the two blocks from the mall to his car. Hands ghosting over the gun tucked into the holster hooked into his waistband, Steve retraced his steps, his heart thundering in his throat.

Until he heard Bucky’s laugh.

Not the obviously fake chuckles he used to placate those around him. No, this was the laugh he remembered, the laugh he thought Bucky had lost.

This was Bucky’s laugh—his Bucky’s laugh, before the world stole him away. Pure and innocent.

Happy—so undeniably, inexplicably happy.

The tension eased from his shoulders when he saw you. Steve knew who you were, of course. Everyone did—or at least, everyone who had been around after the Battle of New York. Everyone who had seen you walk among the rubble, bleeding through your jeans, helping dig survivors out of the rubble, guiding them to shelters. Everyone who had seen you do everything you could help those who needed it more than you did, until your legs finally gave way and the only reason you didn’t collapse to the floor was because Steve caught you.

But Steve also happened to know why you’d done it. Because you were kind. Because you were selfless. Because you knew what it was like to lose everyone you loved, and to garner the strength to build yourself up anyway.

You’d lost people too—everyone you loved, killed during the Battle. Your family. Your friends. It might’ve seemed cruel to be spared. Might’ve seemed like a cold, dark twist of fate—and for a time, it did.

Steve had never known anyone to be resilient the way you were.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, as he watched his friend from through the glass, maybe you would teach him to hold on to the tiniest sliver of hope too.

—

Bucky didn’t even like books.

The only book he’d read—aside from the coursework assigned to him in his school days—was The Hobbit. And even that had taken him an ungodly amount of time to finish.

So yeah, Bucky didn’t exactly like books.

But he still visited the tiny bookstore on the corner every day.

He didn’t even buy anything. He just looked around, running his fingertips over the spines of the books that jutted out of the wooden shelves, the sunlight turning his eyes into uncharted waters of the oceans, swimming with undiscovered secrets and untold lies.

You would talk to him. All the time, and with no trace of the usual pity or sympathy that he heard when he spoke to people. You talked to him in a way that made him feel like himself, in a way that made him feel like he just might rediscover the man he used to be.

That first time he’d seen you was burned into the back of his brain, the image of you standing there with a hip braced against a bookshelf, dressed in a white sweater and jeans, your hair pulled into a braid over your shoulder. He had watched as a strand escaped, falling into your face.

And him—he'd stood there, watching you talk to another woman he couldn't recall because really, how could he look at anything else but you? Bucky was certain he looked like a gaping idiot, both wanting your attention to turn to him, and dreading the fact that he would surely make a fool of himself if you so much as looked at him.

Back in the 40s, things would've been so much easier. He would already have said something witty to make you laugh, he would already have been telling you about the carnival down at the beach and asking if you wanted to go with him.

But when your friend left, and you asked him if there was anything you could help him with, his voice sounded strange to his own ears as he croaked, "Books?"

You had laughed—and he found himself laughing along. A true laugh—for the first time in a long time, the sound didn’t sound fake to his own ears. For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself.

Bucky had taught himself to value that which wasn’t whole—because he wasn’t, either. Love was give and take. Love was equal.

If he was to deserve your love, he would have to be whole again. If he was to deserve your love, he would make himself whole again.

—

There was a sudden shift in the way Bucky viewed the world.

It had been three days since he last saw you, but he walked in through those doors anyway. He had no cause, no reason—he just couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.

You were sitting by the bay window at the very back, reading a book. He took a second just to take you in, to get used to the fact that you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

The second you looked up, your face split into a grin, like you were truly, genuinely happy to see him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had smiled at him that way. “Hey, you’re back! It’s Bucky, right?”

He nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak, not when he was sure he would stumble over his words, not when he couldn't bring himself to string together a coherent sentence in your presence.

"What can I help you with today?" you asked, snapping your book shut and placing it on the table.

"Uh... What're you reading?"

You glanced down at your book before looking up to meet his eyes again. Blue, you thought, supressing a smile. Icy blue, but warm nonetheless—familiar in the way most things aren’t. "Wuthering Heights. You've never read it?"

He shook his head no. "Never been much of a reader, no. Is it any good?"

"It's one of my favourites," was your answer, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The light caught the steel of the chain around his neck—the chain of one of those military-issue dog tags.

And maybe that was how it started—on that dreary cold Wednesday, when you'd stood next to the bookshelf by the window, telling him about your favourite book, but really all he could focus on was the late afternoon sun rendering the hue of your eyes several shades lighter, the soft slope of your nose, the fullness of your mouth. Every little detail about you was etched permanently into his mind—and he wanted to learn more.

He wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

It was about closing time when he decided he had to go. Not because he wanted to, but because he had promised he would have dinner with Sam and Steve. And as much as Bucky wanted to stay, he was a man of his word.

Which is why when he promised you he would come see you as soon as he finished reading the book, you knew he meant it.

—

And you were right.

Two days later, he was back.

It was raining that day, early in the morning when you were just about to open up. And there, standing under the awning in the freezing rain, was Bucky, the collar of his coat turned up against the wind, drenched to the bone.

"What're you doing here?" you asked, eyes wide.

"I just... I don't know," he said. Because he didn't. Bucky didn't even like books—but he did like being around you. There was a strange sort of calm about you, a sense of peace he'd only known in Wakanda. Around you, he was just Bucky—not Sargent Barnes, not the Winter Soldier—just Bucky.

He liked being just Bucky.

You shook your head, but he could've sworn he saw the corner of your mouth tilt upwards as you fished your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the door. "Well, come on inside. I'll turn up the heat and get you something warm to drink. Christ, Buck, you could get pneumonia or something.”

He only nodded once. It didn't matter that he wouldn't get sick—not when the serum in his veins healed his body faster than normal. It didn’t matter that even if he could sick, he wouldn’t have cared, not when you were looking at him like that, with concern in your eyes for something other than your own safety.

You had a coffee machine in the back room, you told him. He followed you, lingering in the doorway as you bustled about, humming a tune under your breath. He recognized it as a song from that one Marvin Gaye album Sam couldn’t stop talking about. He recognized it as a song he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life, if only you were the one singing it.

He recognized that, for better or for worse, you would be his undoing.

—

After that, he came to see you every day.

When the weather got colder still, he brought you steaming cups of hot chocolate from your friend Bella’s café down the street. And on the days when he didn’t, he would head into the back room and make you coffee. You’d never had to tell him how you took it—after that in the rain, he’d somehow remembered what you liked.

You weren’t about to tell him, but you remembered what he liked too.

It started out simple—plum cider that you found on your weekly trip to the farmer’s market. An old vintage copy of The Hobbit from the forties. Rubber silencers for his dog tags that he never used but carried around in his pocket anyway—until eventually, you had something new for him every week, some insignificant thing that he looked at with the kind of childlike awe that made your heart twist into knots in your chest.

He walked you home too. Every evening, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, slowing his stride so that he could walk alongside you. He would stand outside, across the street, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to walk into the apartment you shared with Bella. Only leaving when the lights came on and he knew you were safe.

Bucky wasn’t much of a talker—you learnt that about him. He would spend all day sitting quietly in a corner of your store, reading one of the books he found on the shelf of used copies you kept in the back of the room.

He seemed to love those used books more than the new ones—books someone had already read, books that had already been loved.

He felt a little that way sometimes, too. A little too used for love, not loved enough for use.

But never when he was with you.

And you—you were falling for Bucky Barnes. A little by little, day by day, without even realizing it—not until it all came rushing to you one afternoon, like a dam breaking, like the ocean of his eyes pulling you under, especially when you felt his gaze on you from time to time, watching you as you worked.

That afternoon, a new shipment of books came in. You didn’t even have to ask him for help—he was already on his feet, snapping his copy of Anna Karenina shut, mumbling a soft, “I’ve got it,” as you signed for the order. Hefted the two cartons of books like they weighed nothing at all, and carried them inside.

There was a strange tightness in your stomach as you watched him, standing in the middle of your store—the only thing the Battle of New York hadn’t taken away from you—and you wondered just how it took so damn long to realize that the feeling of familiarity didn’t lie among these books, but rather, in Bucky himself.

—

It was a slow day, so the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon restocking the shelves. He asked you about each of the books, watching your eyes light up as you talked about your favourite ones, until conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, the two of you basking in each other’s company as you worked.

You didn't even realize how much time had passed until you heard the door open and your friend Bella breezed in. She'd been here the first day Bucky had walked in, had noticed the way your eyes shifted to him mid-conversation like you couldn’t focus on much else when he was around. “Ready for lunch, y/n?”

You looked at Bucky, opening your mouth to ask if he wanted to come along. Not because you didn’t trust him to be alone at the store, but because you wanted his company. Because being around him felt like coming home.

He only waved you off. "Go ahead. I've got plans with Stevie. I'll be here when you're back though."

You believed him. You believed that he would always be around, for as long as you wanted. And you wanted forever.

"Was that the guy from before?" Bella asked, looping an arm through yours as you left the store, walking down the street. She brushed her fiery hair out of her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at you, yellow-green eyes filled with curiosity. “What’s his name?”

"Bucky. He... He's a friend," you said.

"Well," Bella said. "He sure doesn't feel the same way."

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Y/n, he looks at you like you put the stars in his sky. Are you sure he's just a friend?"

"I... I don't know, Bella."

Because you didn't know what else to call him. Because you and him weren't friends in the way people usually are—you had always been more.

Bucky was always more.

—

"I've barely seen you," Steve said, picking up his can of Diet Pepsi and taking a sip. "Where have you been?"

"Around," Bucky mumbled. Because how could he explain why he was spending so much time at the bookstore with someone he'd only just met? How could he explain the magnetic pull he felt toward you, the inexplicable desire to just be around you?

How could he explain the way you made him feel like himself again?

But Steve knew. Steve always knew. He saw the growing stack of novels on his friend's bedside table, saw him reading at the kitchen table, book propped up against the jug of milk.

He also knew that all this was because of y/n. Because Bucky mumbled that name when he was too exhausted to even know what he was saying. Because Bucky talked in his sleep—and Steve could hear him calling that name through the thin walls that separated their rooms. "You've been at the bookstore?"

Bucky set his drink down. There was so use denying it—his friend would see right through him. Steve had known him for too damn long to believe in his lies. "She's so... I can't even put it into words. She makes me believe that there's good in this world. That all the things I did wrong don't even matter—not when I'm with her. It’s the way she looks at things, the way she’s capable of finding a little bit of good in everything. Like she found something good in me, Steve."

Steve knew it was true. Because he hadn’t seen Bucky this way for a very long time. Because he hadn’t seen that light in his friend’s eyes in a very long time, and ever since he met you, it hadn’t gone away.

—

Bucky had to leave for a couple of days.

He didn't tell you why—just that it was a work thing. How long would he be gone? He didn't know.

"I'll be back soon," he said. "I promise."

And he was. Five days later.

But Bucky was quiet—quieter than usual.

It was a Sunday, and you’d somehow managed to drag him along to the farmer’s market with you. He walked alongside you, hands in his pockets, like he was aching to reach out and touch you but desperately holding himself back.

He’d almost gotten himself killed on that mission.

You took up too many thoughts in his head, too much space in his heart. And when the bullet narrowly missed him, grazing his ribs, his only thought was whether or not you’d miss him if he was gone.

You deserved better than someone who’s life was tied to the death of others. Someone who didn’t have so much blood on his hands.

A few paces ahead of you, Bella walked hand-in-hand with Bucky’s friend Sam. You were glad that Bucky had introduced them, glad that Sam made Bella happy in ways you’d never really known or understood before.

“Look at them,” you said, watching with a smile on your face as Sam quietly slipped a couple of oranges into Bella’s bag. “They look real happy.”

Then, turning to look at him, you smiled, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Because you might deserve better, but he was selfish and stubborn, and the only thing he had wanted in so goddamn long was you you you.

“Go out with me,” he blurted, every thread of self-control he had so carefully cultivated to keep his head in your presence snapping. He felt like he was taken back to that December evening he saw you for the first time, when the words refused to leave his mouth, when you’d rendered him tongue-tied and helpless. Only this time, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out, not as he said, “One date, y/n. One date, and if you don’t have a good time, we can just forget it ever happened and move on.”

His heart shuttered when he saw the small frown creasing your brow, your voice soft as you asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want to do this for the rest of my life with you, y/n,” he said quietly. “But for now, I’ll take that date.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “Okay, Bucky, I’ll go out with you.”

He couldn’t help it. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you to him, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around until you were both laughing, childlike and breathless, blissfully unconscious of the knowing look on Sam and Bella’s faces.

Because really, how could he see anything but you? You had been it from the first day he saw, and you were it now—a blessing, beautiful and true.

tags:

@goldengoddess @wherearethesantreys @ughlantsov @for-bebbanburg @mriddlemethis @xleiaorgana @xsamsharons

if you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, just send me a message or an ask off anon!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #marvel mcu

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goldengoddess · 3 years

Note

soooo the idea is a fic set during king of scars where the reader is nikolai's childhood best first and we stumble into his room one evening and we actually see him change into the demon and just absjajnsns

i am yours - nikolai lantsov

* KING OF SCARS & RULE OF WOLVES SPOILERS *

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader

a/n: okay this is absolutely garbage rae i am so sorry pls forgive me,,, i KNOW this is not how nikolai’s demon works and he wouldn’t just like turn back but for the sake of this fic pls pretend <33333

for the lovley @wtfrae !!! i love u pls go read her work everyone <3

warnings: spoilers! some angst n like threat of violence but y’all know me, everything is good and happy by the end

nikolai had always been the one person you could turn to. since the two of you were kids, it had always been an unbreakable bond. something no one else seemed to understand. how to kids, tossed aside by their family, tested in every way possible, were able to find each other and bring out the best in one another. nikolai made you better, made you good.

life in ravka was never easy, it was a constant struggle. especially in the years leading up to nikolai’s reign. the two of you almost hadn’t made it out alive then, and while nikolai had been out fighting with alina in the fold, you had stayed at the spinning wheel helping the injured.

but when things finally settled down, alina and mal safe and away, nikolai had told you so many stories. the two of you had spent months apart. so out of nostalgia, every night you’d sneak into nikolai’s room and listen to your best friend tell you stories about everything. all the battles he’d fought along as sturmhond, what the battle against the darkling had looked like.

and even when nikolai ran out of stories, and you ran out of questions, you kept sneaking into his room to talk to him. he was the king of ravka, during the day he never even stopped to take a breath. but his nights were reserved for you. just so he could hear the sound of your voice before he was bound to his bed by chains.

nikolai loved you dearly, you were the only constant he had ever known. but he couldn’t bring himself to share what had happened to him during the battle with the darkling, what he’d become. instead, he told you the stories he told everyone else, how he was captured and tortured. it hurt him, to lie to you. but he couldn’t have you seeing him the way he saw himself, a monster. so even though lying to you pained him every night, he would do it to hear your excited questions and giggles as you snuck out of his room.

he always made sure you were gone before zoya came in. he wouldn’t be able to explain the drugging potion. or even worse, his horrible transformation into the demon that lived inside of him.

but secrets almost never stay secrets.

“saints nikolai,” you gasped, rushing off his bed to grab grab your coat, “it’s past midnight. i can’t be in here!”

nikolai sat up and looked out his window, you watched the color drain from his face. he cleared his throat and walked over to you, “you’re right you should probably go.”

you nodded and shuffled away from him, but before opening the door you paused. you turned back to the blonde haired boy, “nikolai?”

“yes sweetheart?” he answered, facing you.

“i could,” you hesitated, “i could sleep over. one night, i’m not saying tonight. just some night. i’ll sleep on the floor but, i spend all of my night here anyways. just like when we were kids.”

as nikolai slowly walked closer to you, you waited for his teasing remark and eventual acceptance. the two of you w had a sleepover since before he left ravka. of course it wouldn’t be the same, as he was now king, but he was your nikolai.

instead, he gently tucked a piece of your hair and kissed your forehead. “i don’t think that’s such a good idea sweetheart.”

your heart shattered at his words and his at the fact that he had to say them. there was nothing he wanted more. nothing that would bring him more peace than holding you in his arms until the sunrise. not just for a couple of hours right before bed, not having to pretend that everything he felt for you was strictly platonic.

“oh” you said defeatedly. “that, yeah that’s okay. i’ll see you tomorrow nikolai.” and with that you rushed out of the room.

later, as zoya gave nikolai genya and david’s potion to knock him out, all he could think about was the horrible look on your face.

at some point in the night you’d made the decision to go talk to nikolai. the two of you couldn’t go on like this, attempting to be way you have been before the darkling and alina while tip toeing around these new feelings you had for eachother.

but as you made your way to nikolai’s doors, hand on the doorknob, you heard a soft growl coming from inside. you covered your mouth with your hand to prevent a gasp from escaping your lips. you slowly turned the handle and stepped into the room.

on nikolai’s kingly bed was a dark giant looking demon. it’s wings were the color of the night sky seen in the window of the bed room. it took your breath away.

you pressed your back against the wall, trying to move back towards the door without making any noise. but the demon heard you and snapped it’s head in your direction.

every part of your body was screaming to run, to scream even. but something stopped you. the eyes. they stopped you. they were dark and pitch black but there was something familiar about them. not the color but the way they watched you. like they were trying to remember every single part of you just in case.

nikolai was the only person who you knew looked at you that way.

“nikolai?” you whispered to the monster.

the creature craned its neck to the side, similar to the confused head tilts that nikolai used to give you during lessons. you took a hesitant step forward, holding your hands up to show that you weren’t going to cause harm.

“nikolai” you tried again, with more conviction in your voice.

the creature let out a small growl as a response and you flinched away. at your movement it out a whine and moved away from you.

you shuffled closer, “hey no no i’m okay. nikolai?”

slowly, as you repeated your best friends name over and over, the creature became less beast and more man. slowly morphing into a messy set of blonde curls and body you’d hugged more times than you can recall. your nikolai.

he curled up in a ball and leaned his back against the end of his bed.

“nikolai” you attempted softly, falling to your knees in front of him.

he scrambled away to a corner of the room, “please. please leave. i’m begging.” his voice was raspy from misuse, thought the two of you had spoken only hours before.

“nikolai i’m not leaving, please explain to me. what was that?” you pleaded with him.

“that was nothing, now go. please please” he sobbed into his hands.

you crossed your arms over your chest in a stubborn gesture that he couldn’t even see, “you’re lying to me again! i’m not leaving until you explain what that was. why can’t you tell me the truth for once?”

“that was me!” he yelled as he lifted his head and met your eyes for the first time.

you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar hazel color of his eyes. you crossed your legs together, “that was you?”

“yes that was me. that is what the darkling did to me. now please,” he let out an exhausted sob “please leave sweetheart.”

you felt tears swelling in your own eyes at his voice. how broken he sounded. your nikolai never sounded so defeated. and if he ever felt that way, he had never shown you. you crawled over to him slowly and placed your hands on the sides of his face, rubbing away the tears.

“what are you doing” he whimpered and dropped his head into your hands, “i could hurt you. sweetheart, you have to go.”

“my nikolai” you whispered, pushing his damp hair away from his forehead.

he closed his eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger, exhaustion, sadness, or a mix of all of it. “i cannot be yours. i’ve lied to you, i’m a demon, a monster. you can’t possibly want me to be yours.” he spit each word about himself as if it were venom, like the words ripped away a little bit of his humanity, or his confidence.

you shook your head and softly placed your forehead again his, still holding the sides of his face. “no. you’re my nikolai. you always will be.”

you placed two soft kisses on his cheeks, one on each side. “my” kiss, “nikolai,” another kiss.

“oh sweetheart, i am yours” he sighed and opened up his knees so you could fall into his embrace. “i am so sorry.”

“you should be” you mumbled into his chest. “what if you had died nikolai? and i wouldn’t have known what was happening to you until it was too late. i could have helped.”

he kissed the top of your head, still hesitantly. “im a fool, you can spend the rest of my life reminding me. i didn’t want to ruin this, us. it’s the last precious thing i have in my life.”

“we are still precious” you whispered and clung to his shirt like your life depended on it. “the same way you are still the nikolai i have always known, since childhood. you are still good. we will fix this.”

“and if we can’t?” he asked so softly that you almost couldn’t hear him.

“then i’ll have to get just as familiar with the demon as i am with you” you joked.

and the rumble of nikolai’s laughing chest told you that everything would be perfectly fine. demon and all, he was still your nikolai.

taglist;

@deardiarystuff @bookishcrows @kazsimp @vintagebitc @obiwansjedi @thegirlwiththeimpala @hybrid-in-progress @mrs-brekker15 @mrsbrekkers @simplyluvzuko @ode-to-joy @gallysonegoodlung @sixofshadowandbone @castielcouldbeasecretdentist @meiitanoia @caaarstairs @itisroe

if your name is in bold, it means i couldn’t tag you <3

#nikolai lanstov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai duology #shadow and bone #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker #six of crows imagine #shadow and bone imagine #leigh bardugo #rae <3

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baroquebucky · 3 years

Note

heyyyyy jess, my fave person ever, so like, you know bucky is king of my heart so pls can i request bucky x reader being like, in a new relationship, yk not being together for a while and they’re both still so shy but obviously in love. extra points if we can get sam and nat teasing them hehe, i love you!!!!

a/n: omg ofc ilysm !! sorry this took so long I’ve been so busy i barely have time for anything i hope this is okay !! :-( request some bucky stuff pals !

masterlist

From the moment you met bucky you were immediately taken by him, from his mannerisms to his casual pet names. You were a blushing mess and you would find yourself trying your hardest to not make your crush so obvious. No one ever talks about how exhausting it is to hide your feelings for someone, you needed an outlet. So of course you did what anyone in your shoes does, you shoved all your feelings for him in a tiny box, writing pages and pages on end of how you felt and stuffed them all in one box.

The said box was well hidden you had thought, stuffed away 4 inches behind your secret stash of candy and other miscellaneous snacks.

“y/n can i have some chocolate i broke my arm yesterday you have to say yes” Sam had mentioned, arm still in a sling and Bucky rolled his eyes, looking at you with a small smile, you flashed a grin to Sam and sighed loudly.

“well had you listened to me in the first place your arm would be just fine” you shot back, getting up from your spot next to bucky and walking towards your room. “well?” you raised you brows and Sam grinned, excitedly getting up and trailing behind you.

As you reached ur room you stopped him and made him wait outside to keep your hiding spot a secret, but you hadn’t realized he was peeking through the cracked door and knew just where to find your snacks. You handed him his favorite chocolate and he walked away, a smile on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes.

It wasn’t until you had gone out for a walk that Sam snuck back in to steal some cashews from you, and he saw the shoe box behind the container. He raised his brow and as best he could wiggled the box out with one hand.

He flung it open and read through the letters, eyes widening as he read about how you felt about Bucky, he felt himself smiling as he read how much you cared about the super soldier, loved him even.

Then a twang of guilt and sadness and he realized you hadn’t told Bucky for some reason, but why? Sam didn’t think twice before giving everything to Bucky and walking out a smile on his face and feeling as if he had done the best thing in the world.

You were confused as to why Bucky wanted to talk to you so badly when you got back from your walk, and then your heart fell when you saw the familiar shoe box on his bed.

“w-where’d you get that?” You questioned, face heating up as he shook his head, “that doesn’t matter y/n, do you mean it? what you wrote?”

Hindsight Bucky was a love sick puppy all around, and his face at that moment said it all, he would do anything for you and had you not been panicking and planning your life in Venice as a secret spy under the alias of some obscure name, you would have realized your feelings were reciprocated.

“maybe” you whispered.

the two of you stared at one another for a couple seconds before he simply dropped the papers in his hands, took one stride towards you and placed his hands on your face, brining you in for a kiss that you gladly returned.

So there the two of you were, sitting on the couch giggling with each other and looking at lego sets to build. Bucky had an arm around you and you were cuddled at his side, a smile on your face as he debated on which lego set to get for the two of you.

“you know we could just get both right” you mumbled, looking at him as he stared blankly at his phone before turning to you, a smile growing on his face.

“are you serious?” he asked you, cheering as you nodded, he quickly dropped his phone and swept you up from the couch, spinning you around and kissing all over your face. The two of you were so caught up you didn’t see sam enter the room.

“oh great, now you guys are gonna be doing that all over the compound” Sam groaned, sitting on the couch and turning on the tv.

“you know this is technically your fault” you spoke as Bucky set you down, Sam furrowed his brows and began to protest.

“i did not say ‘hey she likes you now go kiss all over the whole compound’ that’s his fault!” He pointed at bucky who smirked at him.

“had you not been so nosy we wouldn’t be dating!” You shot back and Sam huffed, mumbling something before going back to watching tv. You and Bucky were whispering something and giggling and Sam groaned once again, “okay but can you at least try to be quiet” and Bucky blushed slightly, turning to Sam and shaking his head.

Sam rolled his eyes, letting out a loud sigh and turning his attention back to the tv.

“we can go right now to buy the sets, it says they’re in stock and i think it’s gonna rain later too” you spoke, quickly locking your phone and going to put on some shoes and Bucky quickly followed you, making Sam laugh at how clingy the super soldier was.

“okay yeah we can do that” he smiled, picking you up midstep and taking you to your room, giggling to yourselves the whole way there. He set you down on your bed and he kissed your forehead before going to his room to get his own shoes.

bucky loved holding your hand, in the store, while paying, on the drive back and walking into the compound together.

Quickly you cleared the coffee table and set the first set down, Bucky nervous since he’s never built a lego set before. You could tell he was nervous and you nudged him slightly.

“don’t worry, I’ll show you” you smiled, kissing his cheek softly, causing him to blush and turn away quickly.

Both of you smiling like idiots as your hands brushed reaching for the same piece, giggling everytime one of you dropped a lego on the floor.

Sam rolled his eyes at the sight of the two of you, getting up to leave when he bumped into natasha, she had a small smirk on her face.

“what’s got you all mischievous looking” he questioned, raising a brow. Nat waved Sam off and smiled at how happy the two of you looked, essentially playing with pieces of plastic. Natasha walked into the living room and slipped into the kitchen, she could hear your shy giggles and Bucky’s light chuckles from the kitchen.

“it’s about time the two of you got together” she spoke after drinking some water and walking back into the living room. Both you and Bucky turned to face her, your face burning red and Bucky had a small smile on his face.

“w-what do you mean i don’t think it was obvious” you spoke, looking at nat and back at bucky and she only shook her head with a playful smile on her lips.

“please, you for one blushed at anything he said” she began talking to you before swiftly turning to Bucky, “and you started actually dressing up instead of wearing sweats everyday” she laughed, wondering how everyone could’ve been so blind to it.

“well Sam didn’t know!” Bucky smirked, natasha thought for a second, shrugging her shoulders and nodding in agreement.

“touché barnes” she smiled before leaving the living room, stopping for a second and looking at the two of you, “I’m happy that you guys found each other” she spoke before heading out, leaving both of you a blushing mess.

suddenly it all become very real to you, bucky was right there, you were dating him. you were with him. A smile overtook your lips and you bit your bottom lip softly to try to hide the smile. quickly clearing your throat before bucky could see how soft you were, continuing to assemble the lego set.

Bucky on the other hand was sweating bullets, trying his best to impress you by how fast he could finish his part of the lego set, nervous with how effortlessly you pieced everything together. He noticed the small smile on your face and the way you were biting your lip, the way you do when you try to hide your smile. He grinned at the sight, assuming you were trying to hide the smile from him he acted like he didn’t see, his ears growing red at the thought of telling you how much he loved your smile.

You spent the evening finishing both the sets, the soft patter of rainfall hitting the window as the two of you admired your work, smiling ear to ear.

“now what, we finished that faster than i thought” you frowned and Bucky felt his heart sink.

“i thought you wanted to finish it fast? i tried hurrying because i thought the point was to finish it quickly?” his brows furrowed and you couldn’t stop the way your heart melted.

“oh buck” you giggled leaning over and kissing his cheek, “that’s not the point but thank you for trying your best anyway angel.”

Bucky turned to putty, his shoulders relaxing and a smile on his face, pink dusting his cheeks as you stared at you lovingly, “angel?” He questioned softly and you widened your eyes.

“I- i mean i can call you something else if you want! I don’t know why i said that i just-” you began but he cut you off.

“I love it doll” he reassured you and you blushed at the name he’s called you all this time, still affecting you just as much as the first day he called you it.

The two of you were love sick puppies, there was no doubt about that. Sam and Natasha didn’t tease the two of you much after the first few weeks of your relationship, happy that you and Bucky were so good together.

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes one shot #soft Bucky Barnes

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itsnothesameasitwas · 3 years

Note

hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

#friends to lovers #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hljournal #hlsource #my fic rec #larry fic rec #themed fic rec #long post #this a REAL LONG POST #sorry but yk...#fics can't wait heheh #when I was looking for fics through what I have read I noticed this is one of those tropes I barely read #but I’m always willing to read :)#hope it helps:D #ask #louisloverera

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naokow · 3 years

Text

Get Free

summary: I want to get off, but I keep riding the ride, I never really noticed that I had to decide, to play someone's game, or live my own life.

warnings: angst, manipulating behaviour from eren, female reader (i’m sorry i didn’t make the reader genderless), cursing, smoking, drinking. let me know if i should add something else.

word count: 2.8k

A/N: so let me know if it sucked, pls, thank you. also, English is not my first language, so there can be mistakes pls tell me where my dumb ass was wrong

The hand on the waist was the final nail in the coffin for you.

How dare he dance with another girl. How dare he smile at her, how dare he ignore you and act like you weren't there, too.

"This is just pitiful," Marleen snorted, finishing half of her drink in a sip as she watched the same scene unfolding in the living room, those two uncaring of everyone else, like they were throwing it in your face.

You hummed, not really in the mood for taunts and half assed advices. "Which part?"

Marleen finished her drink and threw the cup over her shoulder, over the improvised bar the frat boys did last year with wood panels and boxes. It landed in the kitchen, someone yelling at the brunette as it nearly missed him.

"You. Honestly, for the last time, you need to—"

Frowning, you tensed and turned to glare at her, only to stop staring at the dance floor. "Honestly, Marleen, for the last time, I'm not fucking Jean to get over Eren."

She raised her hands in mock surrender, taking the half empty bottle of beer from your loosened grasp. "Doesn't have to be Jean, pal."

Groaning, throwing your head back dramatically, you couldn't find it in yourself to debate this subject, again.

Not that it mattered. Not like it was supposed to be a fun night at a frat house. Not like you made a fuss about it, dressed in your best leather pants and top, tattoos on display.

Not like you actually tried a bolder look with the cat like eyeliner and actually put on lip gloss, because you knew Eren liked those, said once your lips were pretty like that, coated with too much cherry glitter—

No, it didn't matter, not even as you sat there, feeling stupid as you pulled at your snake bites, wondering if you should get drunk or just go back to your dorm and complain to Annie.

But the blonde was at the party, too, somewhere among the crowd and probably sulking just as you, if you were to guess after seeing Armin with some junior chick an hour ago.

Marleen pushed herself away from the counter, losing her balance as she fell from the chair, but you saw it coming. Rolling your eyes, you caught her arm and steadied her.

Marleen grinned as you let her go, and seized your bicep, squeezing it three times, like a grandmother would with her grandchildren's cheeks.

"God, I love your muscles."

You loved them, too, but often found yourself wondering if Eren would pick you if you looked different, like the pretty, thin brunette wrapped around him on the dance floor.

God, how much can someone dance?

"Anyway," Marleen sighed, fake annoyance and all that, "Someone has to fuck Jean."

You snorted, "Poor you, volunteering like that for society."

She waved you off, pushing your now empty beer bottle into your chest as she left your side with her arms in the air, waving franatically to catch Jean's attention from his seat on the couch, where Connie was trying to explain something with his fingers.

Putting the bottle behind you on the counter, you tried to stop yourself from looking at him. What good did it do to—

He was gripping her waist, his large hands, clad in rings you got for his last birthday, covering her exposed skin. Her arms were in his hair as he bent to say something in her ear—

No, you noticed, he was kissing her neck and she was grinning sideways at Eren.

Scoffing, you tugged at one of the pierces in your nose. You should know better by now, Marleen once chided after cleaning your face off, ruined make up almost dried on your cheeks.

He knows, Annie scolded from beside you two in the small public bathroom after Eren ruined karaoke night and brought his new girlfriend.

He knows you love him and doesn't care. So do yourself a favour and move on.

Yeah, you watch Eren laugh at something the girl said, move on from the crush you had on him since you were sixteen and his hair was still short and he was crying over his parents' divorce.

Sure, move on and forget all the times you helped him, picked the pieces and put him first. Like he did, all those years going down the drain ever since the school year started and he barely acknowledged you.

"You look like shit," someone took the seat next to you, and you sighed before accepting the offered red solo cup.

"Feel like it, too," you looked at Levi snorting as he sipped on his beer. He looked like he just got out of bed.

Right, you scowled at yourself. You've been so busy preparing to let Eren walk all over you, that you forgot that Levi lived in the frat house that hosted the party.

Hange was talking Erwin's ears off, but he smiled and waved at you from where he stood close to the oven, once you looked over your shoulder to inspect who was there. Hange imitated his gesture without turning to see who, exactly, they were saluting.

Levi ignored them altogether, hair disheveled from his twitching fingers. He probably had a nap, you guessed, from the simple black shirt and jeans. Most likely got dragged down from his room by Zeke, or someone.

You knew him well enough, since he bumped into you almost one year ago, in the parking lot where you were smoking, asking for a lighter. Sure, he ignored your bad mood since you walked over to class when Eren forgot to pick you up.

It was just one time.

It wasn't until many months later that he picked a habit of ditching you and your plans together.

Levi was older by two years, and so were his friends, but they took you under their wing almost immediately.

They were protective of you, especially Hange, but no one came close to Levi anytime Eren made you cry or upset you with anything.

Like now, as he glared at the place where you already knew Eren was having fun with the girl. But you chose to look at Levi, chin in the palm of your hand.

Finally, he turned to take you in, his eyes catching onto the fact that you wore the rings and choker he got for you over the last year, then the many earrings Hange and Erwin got you anytime you wanted another pierce.

"Well, you sure look worse than me," you smirked, but Levi frowned at your attempt.

"He did it again?"

You couldn't find it in yourself to get mad at his words, "He just forgot, is all."

Levi snorted, "He should get checked for that Alzheimer he's been sporting for the last months."

You hit his arm, barely touching him, and huffed. "Play nice."

To his credit, he left it at that and let the noise of the party fall over you, both nursing your drinks.

You pondered going to Hange to ask if you could crash over the night with them, knowing Marleen was busy and Annie probably left by now.

"Want to dance?"

Well, then.

Your eyebrows almost reached your hairline as your eyes found Levi's, "Huh?"

He didn't shrug, or rolled his eyes, simply putting down his bottle and staring at you. You didn't want to look over at the dance floor, or be near that sexual tension, but—

But Levi was trying, and you knew how much he despised the parties, or having to interact, or, God Almighty forbid, dance.

And he was asking if you wanted to, because he knew you liked the song that was playing before you even realized what song it was or that you've been moving your head along with the beat for the last minute.

But Eren was th—

You jumped from the bar stool, "Sure."

You were taller than Levi by some good inches, but that didn't bother him. It never did, not even when you made fun of it at game nights or that one time at the carnival when he was the only one to join you in the big rides.

It didn't bother him, not even now, as you let him put his hands on your bare waist and slightly gaze up at you.

Hands around his neck, you let your chin rest near his ear, "You dance like someone's grandpa."

You could only assume he scoffed as he moved his arms around and pushed you closer to his chest.

"That's how you're grandpa danced?"

You shrugged and let him move your hips to the beat, fingers lost in his hair. "Wouldn't know. He died before I was out, kicking and screaming for the last time in my life at my mom."

Levi shook his head at your words, used to your humour and thankful you couldn't see his smile as he put his forehead on your bare shoulder.

You found yourself forgetting about Eren for a while as Levi danced with you and touched your skin, fingers grazing sometimes over your back or spine.

Then he was lost to your mind altogether when Levi caught your eye and you tried to make sense of the look he was giving you.

Marleen said something about his stares, when you couldn't see him watching.

You wet your lips, and he watched your tongue swipe over the pierces. "What, Ackerman?"

He shrugged, "You hate lip glosses."

It was barely there after all the drinks, but the thin, shiny coat with that stupid glitter was noticable enough for Levi to glare at.

And you did, you did hate lip glosses when Levi's arms were around you like that and his hands didn't shy away at the feeling of your muscles like Eren once did, because, damn, what chick wants those abs?

"'m stupid, I know," you mumbled, head titled close to his ear, but he turned to look at you, not even dancing anymore as his mouth was so damn close to yours.

"Want me to buy you another lipstick? What was it, again? R—"

You laughed, and Levi smelt the juice and whiskey on your breath. "Red, yeah. Still don't know how you found that shade, it was so nice, and I finished it too fast."

Levi smirked a little, "Told you, it's a secret. How else am I gonna surprise you?"

You felt him around you, too real, too much, it consumed you, steadily, as his eyes wondered around on your features.

"You surprise me anyway, Ackerman."

He wet his lips, then frowned, having to remind himself you weren't there for him, that you were in that position only because you were hurting again and because he was stupid and reckless and—

"Take it off, please?"

Levi searched your eyes, "What?"

"The gloss crap. Take it off, please."

Levi's breath hitched. "Are you sure?"

You looked down at his lips, "Help me a little, Levi."

Damn you. Damn you and your beautiful face, that irresistible body and that personality and the fact that it made him fall hard. So hard he couldn't deny you, even if it hurt him.

Because you were still hang on Eren, waiting and suffering, uselessly prolonging the inevitable everyone knew its end, but you.

But now you were in his arms and looking at him like he put the stars that formed those constellations you adored so much, on the sky.

Damn you, da—

He would never admit it hurt to press your lips to yours, to feel that cherry lip gloss first, then the punch as he probed at your mouth to get rid of that crap as you so nicely asked him to.

He hardly noticed how the pierces felt against his tongue, all lost to his mind as he gripped your hips tighter.

He would never admit it bothered him how your fingers played with his hair as you moved your face down and kissed him too roughly for his taste.

But it brought some satisfaction to glance over your shoulder at the shocked, angered Eren, his dance partner forgotten as he stared at his hands on your skin.

Good, it felt good. Even when Levi knew you would regret it the next day and go back to sulking over Eren.

But you brought his mouth back to yours and kept his face in your hands and made him ignore how much it hurt while he bruised your lips with too many kisses.

Levi tried to convince himself that things would finally be better, that it was the right move and he wasn't just a rebound. Maybe, if he kept telling himself that, he would believe it, too.

Even as you pecked his lips once, twice, stopped to gulp down breaths of air, like you just surfaced from water, like you've been drowning and finally, finally, you were free now.

But you stayed close, foreheads pressed against each other's while some stupid disco song started playing and Connie's excited yells surpassed even the stereo system.

You opened your mouth, and Levi wondered if he should be the first to say sorry.

"This is nice."

Flinching, you furrowed your brow and turned to look at Hange. They grinned, inches away from your face. Levi scoffed, and took one, two, fuck it—

He almost jumped away from you, putting space, almost making a statement. He glared at Hange.

"Is this our new secret handshake? I have to tell Erwin," they didn't wait, and you sighed as Hange bounced away to annoy Erwin for the millionth time that night.

You clicked your tongue, Hange forgot to tell you why they interrupted... Whatever that was with Levi, who was now rubbing his face in what you knew was annoyance.

Wetting your lips, and feeling no trace of cherry, made you feel worse than before.

"Right, I'm—"

Levi scoffed, hands back into his pockets as he already moved to walk past you. "Don't. I'm sure Jean would like to continue this."

You wondered why his words stung that much, because you were supposed to feel better after kissing someone. Because it was supposed to make you feel something else than sadness and constant self hatred.

Because—

Eren was making his way towards you, and Levi was already lost in the crowd before you could try to mend things. And say what, exactly? Nothing made sense anymore, your thoughts scattered all over the place because—

"What was that about?"

He was asking you, talking to you, and it didn't feel as good as you thought it would. Neither could bother to step aside, talk somewhere private, people still drinking and dancing around.

But why would Eren go somewhere private with you? It wasn't right. Nothing was feeling right as he glared down at you, at your swollen lips and flushed cheeks, that even the low light of the Christmas lights hanged around the walls couldn't hide.

"What?"

Sure, you were broken. Mind blank and fingers twitching to hold onto something.

Eren frowned, "What was that about, with Ackerman?"

You blinked at him. "I'm sorry?"

It wasn't the apology you almost shot at Levi earlier. You sounded too confused and shocked, even for you.

But nothing made sense and Eren was now fuming.

"Listen—"

And you were all years for him, straining yourself to hear him over the music and the crowd that pushed your bodies closer. All because you were used to this, dropping all doubts and latching onto Eren. Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time he was that close to you, couldn’t comprehend the harsh reality.

He was there because it bothered him to lose his play toy, and you were too blind to see it, or anything else beside his eyes as he talked. Blinking, you allowed Eren to take you to the kitchen, something about another drink.

Levi was lost to you as Eren put his arm around your shoulders, barely keeping it there as he started talking about his classes and something his colleagues. You granted him your attention, all of it, never half hearted like he was with you most of the time.

Try all the time.

Because you were better, always so caring and welcoming for Eren to just pick and take whenever he pleased. But he was your friend, you cared too much about him to just let him go or ignore his needs. And he even left that pretty girl to talk with you. Surely, that must count as something.

“Where’s your lip gloss, hm?” Eren inquired, watching you over the rim of his cup as you blinked, head titled to actually think about what he asked. Then,

“Oh, sorry. must’ve worn off,” you struggled to articulate the words, barely thinking them through, feeling small, almost lost under his stare for a moment. Eren smiled down at you, almost cynically, as he put his cup down and took your hand in his.

“Want to dance?”

You nodded, faster than before, with—

It didn’t matter, not in that moment.

Assuring him it was alright, because every little thing was alright to you as long as it was Eren and his hand was taking yours, even if the hold was loose, barely there, like he was seconds away from letting it go.

#eren yaegar #levi ackerman #fanfic #reader #eren x you #eren x reader #levi x reader #hange zoë #erwin smith #reader insert #female reader #aot fanfiction #eren angst #levi angst

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blxetsi · 3 years

Note

do you write for zeke? if so could you please do some boyfriend!zeke (modern au) hcs? thanks🥺

tysm for requesting !!!

modern zeke jaeger dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

zeke jaeger x gn!reader

- biggest tease ever.

- i think you two wouldve started off as friends to lovers yk 😌✨

- v funny v teasing will make fun of you no matter what

- but its all lighthearted and you can genuinely tell hes joking and doesnt mean what he says

- hes a coffee person. all the way.

- almost always seen with a coffee in his hand

- after you keep stealing sips of whatever hes got he finally just caves in and will bring you your own drink whenever he sees you

- if you dont drink coffee, but prefer a sugary drink or something he'll tease you about it

- hes a very relaxed person and doesnt get jealous, hes not someone that will go balistic and get angry when you hug a friend he doesnt know or whatever

- also would be really cool with your exes if youre cool with them, like "oh yeah i remember you telling me abt them, congrats on your engagement btw" just a very civil man

- if he does have insecurities about your relationship he just kind of, wont say anything ???

- not that he doesnt want to he just doesnt know how to bring it up

- bae pls learn how to talk abt your feelings 😁👍

- anyways after a little bit youll notice somethings wrong, but he'll try and act "strong" bc thats what he thinks hes supposed to be for you

- baby no u can be vulnerable its okay 😐🤚

- he finally lets everything go and has a really long and progressive conversation with you about everything, and you guys work it all out !

- you assure him its okay to be honest and that hes always welcome to talk to you about how hes feeling and his heart just swells

- im also a firm believer in that zeke genuinely doesnt care what you look like, if he finds you cool he finds you cool, he dgaf

- poc ?? he loves you. plus sized ?? he loves you.

- if you even THINK of being like "lol im insecure" hes shutting it down and talking abt how beautiful he finds you

- hes also someone that likes to push you out of your comfort zone, but in baby steps ?? like hes not going to force you to do something when you say "zeke im genuinely not comfortable with this" but if youre very shy he'll try and help you kind of,, not be as shy (hopefully this makes sense 😁👍)

- also loves to cook with you.

- his favourite types of dates are just when you two go to each others' homes and just cook dinner together ?? maybe drink some wine while you chop vegetables and work together (if you drink obv, if you dont he wont drink either even if you say its okay)

- he thinks it makes the food taste better because "it was made with our love" yeah ok ig 🙄🙏

- his family is really cool !! his dads a doctor and his step moms a social worker, and theyre really nice people !! his younger brother is in college but after a while he grows to love you like a sibling

- his mom lives a couple hours away, so he only gets to see her during holidays, but shes a very kind woman who owns an art shop !

- hes a very family oriented man, and really likes that you like his family and vice versa, he thinks its really important that his s/o and family get along

- when hes with you he sees himself being with you for the long run, im talking marriage and kids (if thats what you want) but definitely marriage

- if you two had different friend groups i think it would be hard for either of you to kind of fit in with each others friends, but after a while you two get the hang of it and it gets easier to see them !!

- is the kind of guy who'll wake you up with kisses on your cheek 🤩

- also likes to spoon you or have your head on his chest. will NOT be the baby spoon no matter what.

- also the kind of guy who dramatically stretches and yawns in the morning

- likes it when you hold his hand, even if you guys are just sitting together on the couch watching something, its so simple and subtle but it makes him really happy

- if you have an office at home that you work in a lot, he'll come and check on you when it gets late. will just rub and pat your head and ask what youre working on, and ask if youll be done soon

- if youre stressing on something that needs to be done THAT NIGHT he understands and will just leave you to it

- when you come to bed late it wakes him up but hes glad it does bc then he can pull you into his arms 😌✨

- zeke has very warm hands, to the point where sometimes theyre sweaty and clammy, so when you have a stomach ache or cramps he has no problem just laying down behind you and rubbing your stomach where it hurts

- if you have a weird interest or hobby he wont discourage it as long as its not hurting you or anybody else, he'll try and get into it to but if he cant no harm done, he'll respect it and you

- i think he would have some acne scars on his cheeks from highschool (puberty am i right 🙄😤⁉️) and thats one of the reasons why he has a beard, just to make it hard to see

- its mostly bc hes cool though, and although he started growing it out BECAUSE he found the scarring weird, as hes gotten older he just doest care anymore

- if you think he looks hot clean shaven he'll do it for u, and he loves the compliments you give him

- zeke is the kind of guy that will flip through the tabloid magazines at checkout

- "babe did you know that jennifer lawrence has a dark secret ??" "i- i did not 😁"

- also the kind of guy that will laugh if he sees kids falling in public

- if he was a father he'd help his kid up obviously, but would do it while giggling the whole time

- has dad handwriting (u know what im talking about)

- everytime he calls his brother he answers with "hey asshole" ??? brotherly love 🙈✨

- is very into horror films, but ONLY good ones

- so like hereditary, midsommar, and black swan are some ones he loves

- the kind of guy that has captain crunch for breakfast every morning

- theres this guy at the law firm he works at that he has a "rivalry" of sorts with, his names levi and from what youve been told hes actually very intimidating ??

- loves to read and will read to you if you ask, would have you in between his legs with your back to his chest on the bed, and he'd have one hand in yours and the other holding whatever book you choose

- zeke needs to be in complete darkness to sleep but needs to have a room as bright as possible to be productive. so every morning after he stretches and gets out of bed hes immediately opening his curtains and letting light into the room because "its the only way he'll actually get ready"

- if he was ever to pop the question he'd do it alone at a very mundane time, just like "wow this is the moment" and ask you to marry him. doesnt matter if he has a ring or not, hes ready, and he realizes this, and he finds the beauty in just doing something so simple with you. hes content and happy, and you make him see life in things he hasnt before, and hes ready for the commitment that comes with marriage, and hes in love with you.

hope u all enjoyed 🤩🤩🤩 asks r open so request if ud like !!! okay love u all stay safe 🤩

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #erwin smith #hange zoe #levi ackerman #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager #zeke yaeger #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger headcanons #zeke yeager headcanons #zeke x reader #zeke jaeger x gn!reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader

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blueprint-han · 3 years

Text

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay skznta event, written for @stayndays !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it! ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”.

“Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them.

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock.

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.”

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose.

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date.

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too.

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter.

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it.

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion?

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own?

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it.

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous.

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long.

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now.

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch.

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across.

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all.

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.”

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned.

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon. You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door.

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod.

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up.

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days.

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly.

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it.

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately.

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly.

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.”

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?”

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.”

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course.

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

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