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#Best Plants For Any Occasions
floristusa · 1 year
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6 Best Plants to Gift for Any Occasion
It is incredibly thoughtful to give a plant as a gift, and the act of giving one is very personal. Living plants can brighten up a room, add fragrance, and make people smile. It is a wonderful gesture to share your love of plants with friends and family, and it is also a gift that can be enjoyed for many years to come. It is incredibly thoughtful to give a plant as a gift, and the act of giving one is very personal. Living plants can brighten up a room, add fragrance, and make people smile.
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finelinefae · 4 months
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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]
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synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 
word count: 8.6k
content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 
read part 2 here
my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !
. . .
Y/N had been having a terrible week.
She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.
People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.
But this week was not fun.
The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.
Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.
It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.
Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.
So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.
Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.
"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.
She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.
The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.
The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.
Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.
The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.
She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.
"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.
She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.
"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.
He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."
The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."
His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."
She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."
"M allergic to flowers." He said.
"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.
"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.
He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.
Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.
He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."
Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."
"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.
"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.
"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.
"Yes." She nods.
"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."
She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.
"That's different."
"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.
"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.
"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."
Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."
He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.
He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."
She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.
"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.
Her entire face heats at the nickname.
***
The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.
She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.
When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.
Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.
After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.
She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.
Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.
It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.
She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.
"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.
At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.
Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.
She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.
At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.
She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.
The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.
Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.
"Excuse me please," she mumbled.
"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.
She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.
The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.
"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.
"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.
"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."
"Mine is." She said.
"What?"
"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.
His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."
"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.
"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.
Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.
Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.
"Is that your new girl Styles?"
"Nice one, H."
"Have fun Styles."
"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.
"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.
"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.
She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.
"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.
Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.
"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"
"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."
She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.
"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.
"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.
"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.
It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.
He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.
"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.
He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.
Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.
"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.
"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."
"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.
***
Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.
She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.
She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.
When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.
She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.
Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.
Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.
An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.
In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.
Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.
"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"
"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.
The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."
Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."
"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"
"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.
Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.
She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.
He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.
"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.
"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."
The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"
"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"
"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.
"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."
"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"
"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.
"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.
"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"
"He swore at me,"
"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."
"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.
"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."
"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."
"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.
"Wait, what? No."
"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."
"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.
"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."
Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.
All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."
"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.
The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.
"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.
"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.
Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.
"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.
He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."
"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."
"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.
"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.
"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.
"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."
"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.
"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.
"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.
"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.
She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.
"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.
"A-Are you sure?" 
"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 
It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 
"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 
"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 
"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.
"Mhm," He hummed. 
"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 
"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 
"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 
He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 
Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.
"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.
"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 
"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 
"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.
Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 
"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 
"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 
"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.
She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 
"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."
"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 
"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 
"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."
"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.
"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.
"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"
"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."
"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.
"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.
Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 
Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 
With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.
"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 
"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.
"Why?" She can't help but ask.
He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 
She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 
Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."
. . .
Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 
An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 
"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 
As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.
The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 
Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 
"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.
"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"
She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.
He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 
When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 
"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.
His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 
"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.
"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 
Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 
He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.
"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 
She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 
"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"
She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 
He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"
She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 
His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."
"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 
Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 
That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 
She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 
Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 
She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 
Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 
The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.
Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.
Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 
Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 
Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 
"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 
"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"
Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"
He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."
"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.
He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 
After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"
Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.
Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 
Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"
She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 
Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"
"A little," She huffed. 
"You're too cute." 
Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.
"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 
"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 
Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"
"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 
"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.
"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 
"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."
She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"
"Been intimate with someone." 
She smiled. 
She really, really liked him.
. . .
For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 
Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.
When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 
In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 
Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 
"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 
She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 
Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.
"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 
"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 
Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 
With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 
It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 
Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 
His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.
Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"
Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 
"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 
"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 
Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 
"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.
Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."
Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 
She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 
"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 
"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 
Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.
"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 
"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.
"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 
"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 
"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.
Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 
Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."
Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.
"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 
"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 
"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 
"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 
"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 
"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 
Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 
"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 
"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 
At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.
She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.
"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 
Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.
"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 
Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."
"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 
"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.
"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.
"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"
"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 
"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 
"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 
"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.
psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room
3K notes · View notes
azulhood · 4 months
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The Manson's have a habit of dragging Sam to fancy balls where she has to 'be on her best behaviour'
One of these fancy balls was the Wayne Gala.
And it was there she met a young Jason Todd.
The two were immediately besties, ride or die, thicker then thieves.
The whole party shivered in fear as the two formed a friendship, the shivering was mainly because they were standing in front of the burning remains of the most expensive car Bruce owned that they took for a joy ride.
When Sam went home they kept in contact via texts, Emails, phone calls, video calls, letters when one of them was grounded, and the occasion crime spree whenever Sam was in gothem.
They each learnt something from each other even if they didn't want to.
Sam now knew, how to pickpocket, hot wire a car, win a fist fight, and a bunch of facts that were going to carry her through all her English classes.
Jason now knew, how to built a toaster from scratch (Sam learnt that one from Danny), how to know what plants are safe to eat when he's stranded on literally any part of the planet, how to summon a ghost (all amity kids know how), and now knows thousands of recipes that are vegan.
Everything was going alright for them
Then Danny died.
And before Sam could process the fact that she saw one of her best friends die only to come back halfway, the ghosts came.
Then Box Ghost, then Vlad, then Dani, then Frightknight, then Pariah Dark.
Sam didn't get a lot of time to contact her gothem bestie but she managed to find time to talk in the lulls between fights.
Jason was getting busier too, he never told her what he was busy with but she didn't either.
Phonecalls and videos calls gave way to texts that would go unanswered for 48 hours.
But there was always an answer.
And that was the new normal.
Then Jason died.
And Sam's heart broke into a million pieces.
There was a part of her that held to the belief that he'd come back like Danny did, but Sam was realistic and Jason was not Danny.
On the day of the funeral she found out that Joker had gotten free again.
Joker.
The man who killed her friend.
Sam could not avenge Danny, but she could avenge Jason.
And so Sam made a plan to kill the Joker that would span years.
Danny and Tucker decided to help.
Because sitting in on numerous text conversations and calls they became friends, while they were not best friends with Jason like Sam was, he was still their friend.
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seiwas · 5 months
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grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso
wc: 1.0k
summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems. 
contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.
a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!
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You have a regular on the weekends. 
Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season. 
But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—
The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer. 
You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head. 
There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—
—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything. 
The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you. 
You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers. 
“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose. 
It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you. 
The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath. 
He continues to stare, unmoving. 
Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward. 
A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first. 
“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store. 
The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils. 
His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?” 
It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking. 
“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.” 
He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion. 
“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper. 
Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best. 
“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.” 
You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch. 
Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves. 
You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.” 
He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be. 
“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.” 
You most certainly were not expecting that, either. 
This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.
You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.” 
It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little. 
When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again. 
“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye. 
“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.” 
Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet. 
“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils. 
“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.” 
And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—
“What’s the occasion?”—
Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season. 
—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly. 
The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.
“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.” 
The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out. 
He furrows his brows, confused. 
You definitely, most certainly did not expect this. 
“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.” 
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thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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violet-butterflies · 9 months
Text
❥︎ yandere! Dilf Part 2
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❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ drugging, stalking, delusional, doing things without consent, masturbation, NSFW ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 1 and part 3 !
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"You wanna join daddy and mommy in bed, Yoon?"
The four-year-old nodded at his dad cutely as he climbed onto the bed, right between an unconscious woman and his dad. As soon as the four-year-old was comfortable, his dad took both his son and the sleeping woman. He then kissed the cheeks of both his son and the woman in his arms.
"I wuv you daddy..." the kid sleepily said to his dad as he let out a big yawn. His dad let out a loving smile as soon as his son said the adorable statement.
"I love you too buddy... What about mommy? Do you love mommy?"
"Mhm! But... why can't I call her mommy daddy?" Yoon asked as he tried his best to keep his eyes open to listen to his dad's answer.
"Mommy doesn't know that she's a mommy yet... It's a big surprise and we'll tell her soon!"
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It never occurred to Junho (yandere! dilf) that his perfect mirage of a family would be broken anytime soon. He's always followed a very specific routine that rarely changes. It's always dropping his son to kindergarten, working until it was time for his son to go home, watching the hidden cameras in his house as y/n brings his son home to babysit. Then, it was either drugging the girl so she would be knocked out on his bed and in his arms or letting her go home and watching her in her house through a hidden camera he planted in a teddy bear he gave her.
He was stuck inside of a fantasy where you were his wife and living a domesticated life with him and his son. One day that fantasy will come true, Junho is definitely dedicated to making that dream a reality, however, why rush when he has all the time in the world?
After all, y/n was always under his watch so at this point he knows everything about her!
"Junho! So I have this barbeque party that I'm gonna host at my place next week. You and Yoon should totally come!" y/n invited one day before going back to her place.
"Barbeque party? That sounds fun! What's the occasion?" Junho curiously asked as an asleep Yoon was carried in his arms.
She giggled before answering, "It's a secret until the party!"
y/n then said her last goodbyes before walking out of the door, leaving a curious Junho standing at his front door.
A secret? What is she hiding that Junho could possibly not know about? To be completely honest, Junho did not like surprises at all. He likes to know as many things as he can and a surprise could either be bad or good.
Junho grumbled his way into his son's room to tuck his lovely son before sliding into his room. He plopped himself on his king-sized bed before trying to go to sleep and yet, he couldn't.
After tossing and turning a couple of times, he decided to take something out of his nightstand drawer.
It was y/n's panties.
Junho always felt guilty when he has to take the article of clothing out. He never likes it when he does something behind your back, especially something so lewd.
With one swift move, he took off his sweatpants before bringing one of his large hands that clenched onto y/n's panties over his nose. The other hand, went to his cock which was already beginning to get hard at the thought of masturbating using the panties of the woman he loves. It's not the proudest thing he's ever done but, it was the closest thing he has to making love with his beloved girl.
"Oh y/n... My beloved wife," he sighed after taking a whiff of the scent the panties held. His other hand was furiously moving on his angry cock as he desperately needed a release. His head was filled with images of a naked y/n under his body, moaning beautiful noises and holding his muscular body tightly with her soft hands.
With one last grunt, he released white strings of cum all over his hand and stomach. Sighing for the final time, the carefully made sure to put the panties safely into his drawer without it touching any of his cum (because that means he would have to wash it and that would make all her scent disappear) before lying back into bed.
Now he was tired and ready for bed and he did exactly that, falling asleep before post-nut clarity decides to bug him with any unwanted thoughts.
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The week after, a casually dressed-up Junho and his excited son, Yoon, were waiting in front of y/n's front door. Multiple cars were parked around her house, all probably belonging to the other guests who were also invited to her barbeque party.
"Ah, Junho and Yoon! Please come in! We just finished grilling the first batch of food!"
Junho and Yoon eagerly walked in, Junho taking in all of the details of his beloved (soon-to-be) wife's house since it was his first time really being inside.
The muscular man recognized some of the guests that attended the party; those guests being some of the other teachers from the kindergarten she taught in.
Junho got to mingle with some of y/n's friends as he and his son ate the wonderful food prepared at the party. It made him feel closer to you now that he's met the people you surrounded yourself with and it was also a treat to see his own son getting along with some of the kids present; happy laughter and chatter filling up the wide backyard.
"Ok can I please have all of your attention please?" y/n's sweet voice asked while she softly hit the back of a spoon to her glass with to get everyone's attention.
All chatter suddenly halted as all eyes were on the h/c (hair colored) woman smiling happily.
"So, I'm sure that you all are very curious as to why I suddenly held a barbeque party," y/n started, "And it's also been very hard hiding this surprise from the closest people I know. But, I wanted to make it a special event since it is something that would only happen once in a lifetime."
For some reason, Junho had a terrible feeling in his stomach. He had an inkling of a thought that suggested that whatever y/n was about to announce would be something that could absolutely destroy him but, for her, he chose to keep a bated breath as he waited for this big surprise.
Junho watched as her hands held another man's hands to help him stand up, a loving gaze present in both of their eyes.
'No please don't do this to me.'
The foreign man then kissed his beloved's cheeks tenderly making her lips stretch into a wide smile.
'It's not what I think it is right? It can't be it right?'
She then showed off a diamond ring on her finger with a giggle that would've sounded melodic if Junho was the one to be the reason behind it.
'This has to be a joke right?!'
"Everyone meet Josh, my fiance! I'm getting married soon!"
At that moment, Junho felt his perfect daydream be painfully ripped away from him as his heart stopped at the announcement.
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A/N Please send help I wrote this chapter after playing League of Legends for 13 hours straight. My back is so sore ouch. I wasn't gonna leave you all on a cliffhanger but the post was getting super long and my back is slowly transforming me into a shrimp.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this upload, and keep an eye out for part 3!
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euseokz · 25 days
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@ eunseok — if only you knew just how crazy you’re driving me . . cws : oral (f) . overstimulation . wc : 1.1k+ . genre : smut
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FWB! EUNSEOK who keeps an almost professional relationship with you.
all you guys do is fuck, that’s it, that’s all he wants, and he has made it obvious since the beginning. he doesn’t want to catch feelings, much less for you to fall for him, so he keeps his distance, only hits you up when he wants your body, and only goes to you when you call him because you want his. he even has a “no kisses” policy, adamant that you two never share any pecks even, the rule applying to anywhere on your bodies, because that apparently only creates attachment.
surprisingly enough, you were alright with eunseok and his stupid set of demands. you did get something good out of it either way — a good fuck and way of destressing, that is — and it wasn’t like he was unbearable or anything, just a tad bit too careful maybe. it was fine though, his carefulness if anything helpful.
when you fucked, eunseok liked to have you laid on his bed, legs thrown over his arms so he could pin you in place while he pistoned his hips into yours, not even bothering with looking up at your eyes, only focused at the way your pussy sucked his cock so well. strands of his hair would fall over his face, sticking to his forehead with the thin layer of sweat that covered it, low groans slipping past his rosy lips while his fingers dug into your thighs almost harshly. eunseok fucked you well, made you feel so good you almost forgot who you were at some points. there was just something about the way he moved, how effortlessly good he looked, how fucking well his dick fitted into your pussy and how his tip always hit against the right spot inside you with every single one of his thrusts. he knew what he was doing, knew how to make you two feel good, and that was all that mattered you supposed, nothing more needed.
you always took whatever eunseok gave you, followed his lead and allowed him to do whatever he thought best. even on the rare occasion that he pulled you to his lap, giving you a fake sense of control by being the one on top of him, he still managed to be the one fucking you, either by planting his hands on your hips and moving you up and down his dick at whichever pace he thought best, or by holding you still in place and fucking up into you. it felt good either way, so you allowed it, letting your lids fall close as you moaned about how good it was, holding onto his wrists or placing your palms against eunseok’s flushed chest for support, immersing yourself in the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of you so deliciously.
surprisingly enough, and maybe because there still was some weird kind of barrier between you two, even with how intimate you supposedly were, you never moaned eunseok’s name, and he never moaned yours, all your pretty sounds reserved to being either incoherent mewls or begs for more, no nicknames being exchanged either. neither of you had ever said that was a hard no, but you also never did it for some reason — until you did, and somehow that seemed to unlock something inside eunseok’s brain.
you had just gotten to eunseok’s apartment. it was a late friday night, and your week had been stressful to say the least. you wanted a way to relax, and eunseok knew that, your tired expression enough of a hint, so that was what he did, laying you down on his bed and undressing you silently, giving you one quick look before wrapping his arms around your upper thighs, spreading your legs so he could lay between them, his face near your pussy as he peeked his tongue out, it’s tip flicking almost experimentally over your clit. you hummed pleased, letting your shoulders finally fall down and closing your eyes, allowing yourself to immerse in the pleasure and simply rest back, moaning as you felt eunseok toy with the sensitive bud, licking it persistently but gently, applying just enough force to make arousal bubble in the pit of your stomach. it felt good, entirely too good, the way eunseok’s tongue kept on lapping at your clit, that was. eventually, the pink muscle drifted down and pressed into your hole, one of his fingers now circling the swollen bud instead, making you roll your eyes, you back arching ever so slightly as your fingers moved to hold strands of eunseok’s hair, pulling at them and bringing him closer to you, stuffing his face against your pussy. he only groaned, not protesting it at all, the fingers on his free hand digging harder into your inner thigh, pressing strongly against the plush flesh.
your moans were getting louder, your pleasure only increasing in magnitude, and before you knew it your high was starting to quickly build up, your orgasm hitting you hard, leaving your mind hazy with lust, and without even noticing it, amidst your loud moans, you whined eunseok’s name. it passed you by, but the same couldn’t be applied to the man between your legs, the way you professed his name making him tense up for a second before feeling his cock ache in his pants, looking up at your blissful face before deciding to continue. 
eunseok wrapped his arms tighter around your upper thighs, keeping you in place while placing both hands on your pussy, using is thumbs to spread your folds and going back to lapping at your clit, this time more desperately, closing his eyes and focusing only on your taste, on how you felt against him. soon enough you could feel yourself getting overstimulated, and it wasn’t like eunseok was ever one to push you like that, so you tugged at his hair, getting surprised when he didn’t budge, if anything only seeming more eager to keep doing what he was doing — so you let him, moaning louder, arching your back and letting the overwhelming pleasure take over you, your pleas for more getting more constant, and each time you subconsciously said eunseok’s name your second orgasm coincidently seemed to draw itself closer, until you were finally cumming again, your clit twitching against eunseok’s tongue as your high washed over you once more.
then, and only because he needed to catch his breath too, eunseok pulled back, unwrapping his arms from around you and leaning back, moving to sit in front of you.
“what was all of that about?” you asked, breathless, looking up at eunseok, noticing how his cheeks were tinted with a pretty pink tone, his lips rosy and shiny with a mix of your arousal and his own saliva.
“something about how you said my name, it drove me crazy” he replied while moving up to you, hands stopping on either side of your head while his face was mere inches away from yours. “i need you to do it again… say my name again while i fuck you”
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fannyspammy · 1 year
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Third Row Back
Minho x Reader
Summary: Minho & y/n get freaky during a celebration (+ a little Newt x y/n tease)
Warnings: PWP, public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink (cuz y’all know Minho would have one), exhibitionism/voyeurism
A/N: writing for minho made me miss my fav sassy glader so here is smt spicy with him. also y/n is a freak. that is it.
[not my gif]
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It was dark apart from the warm glow of the bonfire, and even that illuminated only so much. By the third row of logs, you’d barely be visible— those sitting in the front row would get all the light. Which was perfect for what Minho had planned for y/n.
Y/n sat comfortably between his legs in that convenient third row, his arms wrapped tightly around her. His fingers played with the hem of her short skirt, one she’d made herself for occasions such as this.
Minho whispered against her neck, “I love this skirt on you. You should wear it more.”
Y/n laughed. “You want me to wear this around the Glade while you’re off running around the maze all day?”
“Okay, maybe not.” He planted a kiss on her neck. “You cold, babe?” Minho asked in her ear.
Before even hearing y/n’s response he reached into a bag he’d placed behind him, pulling out a large blanket. The blanket could easily fit three under it, so it wrapped around them no problem, a good portion of it dragging onto the ground.
The first round of Gally’s brew came around, and soon all the other Gladers were drunk. Soon everyone was inebriated, & wrestling matches began in the firelight. Minho saw his opportunity.
He placed wet, open kisses on y/n’s neck, and she threw her head back to give more access. Sucking on her sweet spot, he took both breasts into his hands and massaged them gently, playing with her nipples every so often.
Y/n bit her lip to stifle her moans. “Minho, everyone is around.”
“Don’t worry babe, it’s so dark you can barely see us back here, everyone is drunk & focused on what’s happening around the fire, & you’re fully covered by the blanket.” He bit down on her skin and sucked hard.
“You thought this through, didn’t you?”
“Of course,” he smirked against the bruise that was forming where he sucked her.
Minho slid his hands down her abdomen to her core. With one hand he parted her folds to give more access to her clit, and with the other he began to stroke slowly, softly touching the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Y/n’s breath hitched at the sensation, the feel of his touch amidst the party almost overwhelming her senses.
The boy slowly dragged his finger lower, dipping slightly into her entrance. Y/n felt his cock harden against her lower back as he felt how wet she already was for him.
“Turn to me,” he commanded.
Y/n obeyed, turning her head to meet his. He enveloped her in a passionate kiss, tongues wrestling for dominance. His fingers continued their work on her clit, rubbing firmly, and y/n moaned into the kiss, doing her best to keep her volume at a minimum.
There was a lot of noise around them, with all the shouts & hollers & conversations going on, so she wouldn’t have to be fully silent.
As Minho quickened the pace y/n instinctively opened her legs, hooking them behind his calves. As his access widened, Minho brought his other hand to her soaking entrance, sliding two fingers in with little resistance. Y/n arched her back as he curled his fingers inside her, hitting her g-spot.
“Mm, Minho,” she whispered, calling his name as loudly as she could without drawing attention.
Pumping in and out of her, y/n rolled her hips lightly against his hands, creating as much friction as she could with little movement.
Y/n laid her head back against his shoulder, panting through the pleasure. She watched the boys dancing by the fire, and the groups having conversations. The thought of any of them catching the graphic scene playing in the shadows at any moment excited her, and she rolled her hips harder.
Panting through light moans, she cried his name again. “Mm, Minho.. oh- yes, yes baby, yes.”
“You’re so fucking hot babe.” Minho added a third finger and rubbed her clit harder. From there it only took about five minutes before y/n came undone. She continued her faint moans as he pleasured her through her high, the blanket beginning to slide down her shoulders.
When she finished she pulled the blanket back up with a satisfied sigh. Minho brought his fingers to his lips and sucked the juice off of them, murmuring about how he loved her taste.
Then, the crowd stood up and gathered tighter around the fire, entranced by an intense wrestling match between the latest greenie & one of the other boys. Y/n saw an opportunity.
She quickly turned herself around so she was straddling Minho, keeping the blanket covering as much as she could. As she undid the button of his pants the boy raised his eyebrows. “What are you doing babe?”
“It’s your turn,” she said simply, freeing his hard cock from his underwear. “They’re all distracted right now. But if they catch us… then they can watch.” She smirked seductively, lowering herself onto his length.
Minho groaned in pleasure as he bottomed out, and y/n wasted no time. She rode him steadily, moaning louder this time, matching the volume of the crowd. Quickening her pace, Minho grabbed her ass to support her, helping her deepen her thrusts.
“Ooh, yes baby, just like that. You ride daddy’s dick so well,” he whispered into her ear, sticking his tongue in afterwards and exploring.
“Ooh M-Minho.. oh, yes.. I love how you feel inside me,” she increased her speed again, squeezing her walls against his length. “Oh, daddy, you feel so good! Mm, I love taking your big, fat cock in my tight pussy.”
Minho began to thrust his hips into her harder, keeping one hand on her lower back and the other on the log to steady himself. He panted his words.
“Yeah? You like that? You like taking daddy’s cock like a good girl?”
The blanket was at their waists now, barely covering where their bodies became one.
“Yes! Oh, yes, daddy, yes! Yes! Yes!”
Y/n came for the second time, and Minho followed shortly after. They rode each other through their highs, calling each other’s names as they did, not even caring who heard them.
She slowly pulled herself off of Minho, a mixture of their juices spilling out of her as she turned around to sit with her back against his chest again.
They scanned the scene. The wrestling match was still going, seemingly at its own climax, and the Gladers cheered as the greenie gained dominance.
So no one saw, y/n thought to herself. She hated to admit it, but a part of her wished someone had.
Then, the fire roared stronger for just a second, and in the flash of light, a couple dozen feet away, in the third row of sitting logs, y/n saw him.
Newt sat alone, eyes closed with head thrown back, vigorously pumping his hard length, his lips parted as he moaned and panted in solitude. She couldn’t him, but she could read her name on his lips.
Y/n.
As he levelled his head his eyes opened & met hers.
She smirked at him knowingly, and then turned to kiss Minho, making sure Newt could see how her tongue slipped into his mouth. Dropping the blanket, y/n palmed Minho through his pants. Y/n continued kissing him with one eye open, only pulling away when she saw Newt finish.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months
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Dead Man Walking || LN4 {2}
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: Christmas with the Norris’ is a long standing tradition but will that still be the case after this years? Warnings: 18+ only, angst and fluff WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist || one || two
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Flo’s old bedroom in her parent’s house hadn’t changed since she moved out. There were still glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling that you had helped her to stick up when you were fifteen. Lando had made fun of them and called them lame as walked past the doorway, but he had still come and held your chair stable when you were precariously close to tipping over.
“What are you staring at?” Flo asked as she walked in to find you lying on her bed, eyes on the roof. 
“Nothing, have you picked a dress yet?” She huffed at your question and opened her closet with a shake of her head. “You do realise the party has already started.”
There was no way to miss it with the christmas music drifting up the staircase and echoing along the hall. Every year was the same, it didn’t matter that all their children had left home - Adam and Cisca still held the annual event and attendance was non-negotiable, even for you. 
The bedroom door opposite Flo’s opened and Lando froze from tugging at the black tie as he caught sight of you. A slow smile grew on his face and he started to take a step forward until Flo appeared with a dress in hand. She held the floor length gown up to her body and swayed the metallic-finish material side to side. “What do you think?” 
“Didn’t disco balls go out of fashion in the 80’s?” Lando teased, drawing her attention to the doorway.
“Didn’t ask your opinion, noob,” she shot back as she grabbed the door and shut it in his face. “I can’t believe he’s staying all week too. Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”
“You should be thinking about your dress right now,” you reminded her as you got up and searched the rack for another option. “Here, this is perfect.”
You could hardly explain to her that you were the real reason Lando was staying local all week. For six months you had stolen nights together, not only avoiding the paparazzi and fans always trying to snap photos of him, but more importantly, Flo. The guilt was a constant fist squeezing your stomach but every time you thought about telling her the truth, the fear of her response kept your lips sealed. Then months had passed by and you thought it would be even worse to admit how long the secret had been kept.
“Babe! This is why you are my best friend,” Flo exclaimed as she dropped what she held to take the emerald green chiffon dress from your hands. “What would I do without you?”
Your smile was forced as you wondered the very same thing. Your mothers had joined the same playgroup before you could walk but you had crawled to Flo and face planted, accidentally headbutting her and making you both cry, but you had been inseparable ever since. Whenever you made a promise to each other it was sealed with the mantra from cradle to grave - ensuring the promise would be as strong and long lasting as your friendship.
You caught the empty hanger she tossed back and hooked it back onto the rack. “End up looking like a disco ball, apparently.”
“Not even,” she said with a roll of her eyes as she shimmied into the dress. “I refuse to take fashion advice from a man who has a hoodie for every occasion.”
You laughed at the completely true statement and pointed at the door. “Not tonight though.”
“That’s not by choice. Mum said he had to smarten up or he would be on dish duty after dinner.” She scoffed as she turned around for you to tie the lace back together. “I told her, wearing a suit won’t make him any smarter.“
You shook your head with a laugh. “If I could get away with wearing a hoodie tonight, I absolutely would too. It feels weird dressing up one day a year. I spent the whole morning here in sweatpants.”
“It’s tradition, and you look gorgeous.”
“I should for the effort I put in,” you giggled, offering your elbow as you opened the bedroom door. “Shall we?”
She looped her arm in yours with a nod as the music downstairs grew with each step. “Let’s do this.”
If you had to listen to another Christmas song you were going to scream, so you escaped the warmth of the Norris’ home and took a breath of wintery air on the balcony where it was less audible. Though there was a chill in the air the eggnog and brandy kept you from feeling the full brunt of the night and you could hardly believe there was snow forecast to fall. 
The only light that reached you was what slipped through the joins of the curtains but it was enough to see the paddocks beyond the grassy lawn. This late in the year the horses that usually grazed the paddocks would be holding up in the stables, away from the morning frosts that occurred daily, but you could still hear their neighs in the distance. 
“Still not a fan of Bublé?”
You smiled to the sky as a pair of cold hands settled on your waist and warm lips found the delicate spot behind your ear. 
“If he hasn’t grown on me by now, I don’t think he ever will.” You turned to face Lando and linked your arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas, my love.”
“Merry Christmas, baby.” His body started to sway, taking you with him as he hummed the stupid song in your ear, laughing when you narrowed your eyes at him. “What? All I want for Christmas is you.”
Your gaze softened and you smiled again as you tucked your head into his chest and buried your hands in his jacket to try steal some warmth. “Are you cold, love?” he asked, looking back at the warm house where all the log fires were lit.
“No, I’m not ready to go back yet,” you admitted as you cradled his cheek in your hand and guided his attention back to you. “Just a few more minutes together.”
He nodded before giving you a soft kiss and pulling away to shrug his wool suit jacket off and drape it over your shoulders. “Can’t have my girl getting sick for Christmas.”
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One Year Earlier “I don’t buy it,” Flo muttered over her flute of champagne as she sat to your left at the dining table, waiting for dinner to be served. 
“Buy what?” you asked as your attention was pulled away from Max on your right, and the pictures of the new simulator he had just finished setting up in his room. 
“Them.” You followed her nod across the room to find Lando on the couch in front of the roaring log fire, his girlfriend sat on his lap as if there weren’t two other cushions available beside him. “There’s no chemistry.”
“Eh,” you shrugged as you grabbed your glass that Max had refilled for you, “since when do you need chemistry if you’re a model or whatever?” 
“You almost sound jealous,” he teased quietly, wary of Flo on the other side. 
“Am not,” you bit back a little too harshly, only making him chuckle more and take a sip of his beer before he said anything else. 
“Dinner will be a little late, I’m afraid,” Cisca announced with a sigh, muttering about the gravy catastrophe. “Adam, honey, turn the music up for a bit.”
“If you aren’t hung up on him, then come have a dance with me,” Max dared as Oliver and his pregnant wife joined Flo’s aunt and uncle dancing in front of the hearth, beneath the twinkling fairy lights. He wiggled his fingers as he waited for you and with a sigh you placed your hand in his and rose from your place setting. 
Flo grinned as you passed by, poking you in the ribs with a laugh and giving you the thumbs up - but Max was only a friend. He could only be a friend because the person you actually pined for was his best friend.
“I know,” he whispered in your ear as one hand rested on your waist and your feet followed his lead.
“Know what?” you asked innocently, but he had caught your eyes drifting to the couch as you circled your way around the room.
“I won’t say anything, I just thought you might want to talk to someone. God knows you can’t talk to Flo about it, she would smother him while he slept,” Max joked. “And I kind of like having my best friend.” His eyes looked at the couple before he sighed. “Most of the time at least.”
You weren’t the only one vying for his attention anymore since he got a girlfriend. “You’ve been drinking too much, Fewtrell. You’re seeing things with your beer goggles on, I have no interest in Lando.”
“Is that why he hasn’t stopped staring at you?” Your head snapped around but Lando’s attention was firmly on Luisa and the very deep kiss they were openly sharing. “Totally not interested in him, huh,” he chuckled as he tightened his hold on you when you tried to pull away. “I’m sorry, it sucks, wanting what you can’t have.”
“There are worse things,” you muttered under your breath but he heard and curled an eyebrow in question. “Wanting what you can’t have right in front of you.”
He had no response but a sad smile as the song changed and Michael Bublé’s Cold December Night crooned over the speakers. 
“The twinkling of the lights, The sound of carols fill the household, Old saint Nick has taken flight, With a heart on board so please be careful, Each year I ask for many different things, But now I know what my heart wants you to bring.”
“I fucking hate Bublé,” you sniffed as you pulled away from Max’s arms. “I’m just going to get some fresh air.”
“It’s bloody snowing out there,” he objected as he followed you to the backdoor. “You’re going to be sick for Christmas.”
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The dinner bell rang out and you sighed as it shattered the bubble you had found yourself in and knew you would have to release Lando from your arms.
“Come to my room tonight,” you whispered against his lips before they shared one last kiss. ‘Your room’ was actually one of the guest rooms down the hall but you had spent so much time in it over the years that it was only ever referred to as yours now. It was so much yours that Cisca had even asked you for your opinion in the wallpaper when she renovated the house.
“Don’t have to tell me twice, baby,” he said with a smirk as he opened the backdoor for you. You reluctantly removed his jacket and missed the scent more than the warmth as you passed it back. Lando pulled it back on and dipped his head to steal one final kiss before stepping inside with a warning over his shoulder, “No dancing with Max this year.”
“It’s your turn to be jealous this year,” you said as you blew a kiss to him along the narrow corridor.
He paused and cast his arm out, planting his palm on the wall and blocking you from rejoining the party. “What makes you think I wasn’t jealous last year?”
“Maybe it was the tongue down Luisa’s throat, or the hand up her skirt?”
You tried to duck under his arm but he caught you around the waist and used his body to cage you against the wall. “I had to do something to distract myself,” he admitted lowly in your ear, hiding his face from your disbelieving eyes. “You were all I could think about, you and that sexy little dress.” You tilted your head back as you felt his lips on your neck as he continued his confession. “If I didn’t do something I would have gone crazy watching him hold you when I couldn’t.”
His kiss set your body on fire and you combed your fingers through his hair tugging the strands so you could capture his lips.
“What the fuck!”
Both of your heads snapped towards the outburst and your stomach dropped as you saw Flo standing at the end of the hall. Her arms were limp at her side, the blank look of shock bleeding into betrayal as her head started to shake before she turned away.
Your body reacted before your brain could, pushing Lando away as you chased after her despite his call to let her go. You couldn’t let that happen, she had always been a worrier and the longer she stewed on something the worse it got in her mind. You had to talk to her.
You raced up the stairs, apologising to Adam as you passed him in the hurry, the confusion of catching his daughter’s rush to escape clear on his face. Her door was shut and you tested the handle to find it was locked and your head thumped against the wood with defeat.
“Please, Flo, let me in,” you begged her. A quick no resounding from inside. Turning around, you took a seat on the floor and rested your back to the door. “I’m going to stay right here until you open the door.”
“You’re going to be there a very long time.”
You sat there in silence for a few minutes wondering where to begin, how to explain what happened, why, how long. Finally you decided on a simple apology. “I’m sorry, Flo. We didn’t intend to fall in love, didn’t intend on anything happening. I fought the feelings for years, because I knew what it meant to you.”
“Still didn’t stop you though, did it?” She spat, her voice closer than you expected. “I had one rule. One!”
Your make up was certainly ruined as tears spilled forth, eyeliner and mascara stealing down your cheeks. “I know.”
“They say they don’t have favourites but mum and dad have always put him first. They missed my events to go to his races,” she sobbed, a sense of déjà vu filling you as she retold the history you had consoled her through years ago. She had always felt second place to Lando. “I thought you would always be my best friend.”
Your gut wrenched as you realised what she was feeling. She thought you were choosing him over her - like there had to be an ultimatum. “I still am,” you promised, shaking the door handle again. “Please, unlock the door.” She made no move to turn the key.
“Do you remember when you got Summer and I thought you were going to forget all about me?” you asked, remembering the day the pony arrived at the house and Flo had been so excited she had run off to the stables without you. “You told me I was always going to be your best friend, from cradle to grave. She was your horse, and you could love us both, right?”
The door tugged open and you fell back, sprawled on the floor as she stood with her arms crossed. “Are you calling my brother a horse?”
“Depends, would it make you feel better?”
She rolled her eyes and offered a hand to pull you to your feet. “I don’t know yet, I’m too pissed off at you.”
“Fair enough.”
“Hey, you guys okay?” Lando asked as he jogged to the top of the stairs, his tie and jacket missing.
You screwed your eyes shut at the timing and pinched the bridge off your nose as you asked, “Can we just have a few minutes?”
He turned twice first to head back down the stairs before he changed his mind and went to his room. “You said I had changed,” he muttered to Flo as he stood in his doorway and held the door knob. “You said I looked happier than ever.”
“I’m going to vomit if you tell me she’s the reason.”
“Sorry.”
“For what? Stealing my best friend?”
You stepped into her line of vision and waved a hand behind your back hoping Lando would get the hint. “He hasn’t stolen me, Flo. Cradle to grave.” You held up your pinky and held your breath as she stared at the age old promise you had made. “I should have told you how I felt about him, but you can be really scary and I was a coward. It was still a shitty thing to do.”
“Really shitty.”
“I know.”
“I can’t believe it was you,” she said with a shake of her head. “I knew there had to be a girl. This is annoying, more than anything, because he’s not such a muppet anymore, but knowing it’s from you - I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”
“Surely being happy is what matters most, not the who or why.”
She fell silent and her eyes fell to the door that he had quietly shut. “What happens if he breaks your heart?”
You hoped it never came to that but you couldn’t see the future so you shrugged. “Then I will cry on my best friend’s shoulder like I always have.”
Her shoulders bounced once with a laugh before she caught herself and tried to appear nonchalant. “I suppose I would offer to key their car.”
“And I would say it isn’t worth it.” You reached for her hand and she let you hold it as you gave it a squeeze. “But…if he doesn’t then I might not just be your best friend, might be your sister in law too someday.”
“Too soon,” she said with a scrunch of her nose as she pulled her hand away and went to Lando’s door. “Hurt her and I’ll key your new car, noob.”
The door swung open and Lando leaned against the jamb. “You don’t have to worry, sis.”
“I love her more than you.”
Lando snorted, a sound so similar to Flo’s, and he shook his head. “It’s not a competition, you muppet.”
She appeared almost pleased, though also surprised as she nodded and stepped away, “good answer.”
“But,” Lando smirked and you sighed inwardly, “if it was I would win.”
Flo oddly didn’t respond as she started to make her way back to dinner, pausing only as she reached the stairs before looking back. “By the way, I’m dating Max.”
“What? No fucking way, I gonna kill him,” Lando growled as he took a step towards her before her head fell back with laughter.
“Of course I'm not, Lando, but now you know how it feels.”
Her laugh echoed down the hall as she descended the staircase and left the two of you alone. Facing Lando, you stared at him wondering if anything had changed but the moment of uncertainty was gone when he pulled you into his arms and kissed you without fear of being caught.
“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow, it’s all I’ve wanted to do for so long,” he laughed as he pressed his forehead to yours and recovered from the almost blessing you had received from Flo. “We don’t have to hide anymore.”
“Tomorrow's Christmas,” you said with a smile.
“Shit, okay then, the next day. Hey!” He grinned as he pointed downstairs, his head bobbing along to the song that was playing again on the playlist. “Christmas came early for me,” he said as he dragged you to his bedroom and closed the door, silencing Bublé as he sang, ‘All I want for Christmas is you’.
“We are going to miss dinner,” you warned as he sat on his bed and pulled you onto his lap.
“There’s always plenty of leftovers, plus, what I want isn’t on the menu downstairs,” he teased as his hands brushed beneath your dress.
“Bob, what are you up to-oh!” Max covered his eyes as he busted into the room. “Bro, everyone is waiting for you two. Time and place, people.”
You stood up and pulled the dress back into place, sending Lando a look that said ‘I told you so’ before tapping Max on the shoulder as you passed him. “You can look now.”
“I think the damage is already done, the image is seared on my retina,” he said with a dramatic shake. “So you two finally…”
“Got caught,” Lando said with a chuckle, slipping his hand in yours as the three of you headed to the dining room. “No more hiding.”
Max grinned and clapped Lando on the shoulder. “About time!”
“Wait, you knew?”
“Uh…I have been in the middle of this situation for like five years. Of course I knew. I think I knew before the two of you knew.”
You frowned at the news and came to a stop halfway to the landing. “So last year?”
“Was my trying to get you two to see what was clearly right in front of you the whole bloody time. You’re welcome for that, you know. And I expect to be thanked as the best friend and wingman one can ask for in our next stream. Now can we please go and eat, I’m starving!”
Lando looked at you with a different look of hunger in his eyes as he kissed your hand. “Me too.”
Taglist {1}: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3  @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @andydrysdalerogers @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover
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fairlyang · 3 months
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more husband!miguel x wife!reader headcanons! 🕷️
taglist: @safixiovi | part one
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miguel was an attentive listener so anytime he’d take you out shopping and you had an eye on something like a lipstick or dress, he would just make a mental note and come back for it the following weekend
but sometimes he’s go overboard and end up buying more things he thinks you’d enjoy
or even try to pair a cute dress with a lipstick and new heels/flats
would absolutely peel all your oranges or cuties, would even cut up your fruits if you liked them diced
could def see him as the gardening type! he’d take care of his lemon trees and all his veggies while you took care of your pretty flowers and plants in the backyard
going grocery shopping would consist of him putting any snack he’s been craving for the past two months tops
he simply might see some Canelitas or Barritas and how could he not get a box of each?
and when it came to remembering if you had queso fresco, beans, or cilantro his mind would go blank which resulted in you giving him a, “are you serious?”
when it was time to pay he’d playfully push you towards the cart so you didn’t have to pay a dime because that was his job
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best of all he is the the most romantic man imaginable but when valentines comes around his date plans, gifts, and flirtatious manner just skyrockets
and when he finally does the grand reveal of everything he got for you, you’re practically tear eyed, feeling an immense amount of appreciation for him
you just stared at him with a little pout (trying not to cry) while admiring how handsome he looked because he loved dressing up for special occasions
you went up to him holding his face in your hands and attack his face with kisses while he laughed and dropped the big stuffed bear he got you
he wrapped his arms around your waist while you were on your tiptoes, kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips as lovingly as you could
then you pulled away and ran off to the kitchen where you had your own gift for him that was in a pretty glittery red bag
it was a big bag with two little gifts and you were certain it’d be the best present you could possibly give him
returning back to him with the bag in hand and handing it to him before standing in front of him awaiting his reaction
he shook his head in disbelief because he never wants you spending money on him which is quite ironic
but he placed the bag on the coffee table and grabbed the gift paper, throwing it on the floor as your heart pounded in pure excitement
his hand reached down and grabbed the first item, bringing it back up with an instant gasp and tears already filling his eyes
the white baby booties were so tiny in his big hand but it only made the reality hit harder
he was going to be a dad
with a shaky hand he grabbed the final thing in the bag which was a positive pregnancy test in a ziploc baggie
without a word being said he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you gently with tears streaming down his cheeks
you hugged him back and finally your tears fell as well from having to hold this surprise for a little while now
(it was hard because you tell him literally everything)
he was about to speak when a sob instead came out making him laugh because he wasn’t expecting it
you sniffled and grinned so wide your cheeks began to hurt as he pulled away from you just to be able to look at you
his eyes were red and a single tear fell from his eye as he whispered, “I love you so much.”
“our family is growing.” you whispered back making more tears fall from both your faces
he kissed you softly before embracing you once again and making sure to be extra cautious for the little one in your tummy
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ace-turned-confused · 12 days
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planted in your garden | joel miller x f!reader
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main masterlist
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summary: joel has always shown his love for you through flowers, and now it's your turn to do the same word count: 1k warnings: 18+ only, reader has tattoos & is shorter than joel, joel being soft & lovey-dovey & just the best in general, bit of spiciness at the end a/n: written for @morallyinept's Fauna & Flora Challenge ❤️ not beta’d or any of that jazz, please enjoy :)
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If there’s one thing you know about Joel Miller, it’s that he will always find a reason to buy you flowers, no need for a special occasion. It’s been a long hard week and I wanted to get you something, saw these pretty flowers and thought of my pretty girl, got them just because I love you. Whether it’s an entire bouquet or just a few wild stems tied together by a ribbon, you’re sure he’s given you more flowers than you’ve received in your entire life.
It started on your birthday — you told him you hadn’t planned anything because you didn’t want a big fuss and it wasn’t a number worth celebrating, and he insisted on bringing you dinner so you wouldn’t have to spend the evening on your own. Every number is worth celebrating, it means you’ve been around another whole year. You were floored when he showed up on your doorstep, pizza boxes in one hand and a bunch of red and pink tulips in the other.
“Saw the ink on your arm there and just assumed they were your favourite. None of the stores ever have anything fresh or pretty enough, so I just cut these from my back garden.”
Joel Miller. Cut red and pink tulips for you. From his own garden.
You’d only known each other a few weeks at that stage, and he’d been more observant in that short time than any other man you’d met. At first, you didn’t read into it too much, he’s just doing something nice for you. You told yourself it didn’t matter that this ‘something nice’ was the single nicest thing anyone ever did for you.
You ate your takeout pizzas and talked for hours that night, record player on in the background, sharing stories of years gone by and remembering the person you each used to be. A few stray tears even slipped down your cheek at one point — Joel moved to sit close next to and almost on instinct you rested your head on his shoulder. It was oddly comforting knowing just how vulnerable you could be around him. He was a kind soul, a rather rare find in today’s world, and you found it surprisingly easy to open up to him.
You asked him for a hug that night and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you firmly against him, his chin resting on the top of your head and it was the safest you felt in years. Of course, and next time you don’t have to ask. You smiled into him, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He eventually pulled back to check on you and planted a hand on your waist; he bid you goodnight with a wink, called you sweetheart and went home, leaving you standing like an idiot, mouth hanging open in a daze and still feeling the heat that had radiated off his palm and the grip of his fingers through your shirt on your skin.
‘Sweetheart’ played in your mind over and over for hours, days, weeks after that — soon enough you acknowledged that you weren’t immune to his charms and you’ve never looked back.
The flowers aren’t only for you to enjoy — you noticed early on that Joel takes great pride in his garden. The lawn always mowed, flower beds always with manicured edges, bees and butterflies in abundance. You’ve spent many hours lounging in the sun just admiring him, your book long abandoned — temples and greying curls damp with sweat, t-shirt clinging to his arms and back, gym shorts showing him off deliciously, all while he potters around tending to his garden, refilling a bird bath, touching up the fence and spewing out endless plant facts.
He even expanded the bed of tulips, planting bulbs of different varieties and an array of colours — ones with frilly edges, ones with pointed petals, and even blooms that look almost hand-painted in their beauty. He told you he’d been planning this for months, long before he met you, but you knew that part of him was doing this for you, too.
Late one night he finally told you the red and pink of your birthday flowers represented eternal love and affection, and sheepishly admitted he only remembered that once he’d already knocked on your door. He had hoped you wouldn’t ask him the meanings that night and figured there must’ve been someone looking out for him when you simply accepted them with a dazzling smile and that twinkle in your eyes. He wonders how things might have played out differently if you had asked him that night.
Now it’s Joel’s birthday and you want to do something special for him — so here you are, lying underneath him in a matching set, simple and white and covered in daisies. Propped up by his elbows, he traces over a flower right in the centre of your bra.
“You gonna tell me anything about them?”
“Daisies supposedly represent innocence and purity…” His voice fades off as he trails his fingers featherlight across you, goosebumps rising in his wake. With a faint smile pulling at his lips, he lifts his gaze to look you in the eye. “But something tells me you already knew that.”
He leans to kiss you, tongue licking into your mouth and you feel him pressed against your core, thick and heavy. You spread your legs wider to accommodate him and he grinds his hips into you, your fingers raking through his hair and tugging ever so slightly. He pulls back and starts snaking a hand down between you, now taken by the same applique daisies on your panties.
“Not sure those words apply right now, though,” he whispers to you, knuckles grazing the fabric.
“What, ‘innocence and purity’? You don’t think that’s true about daisies?”
“I ain’t talkin’ bout the daisies, sweetheart.” He smirks at you and you simply grin at him and huff a laugh in response as he shuffles down your body to pull your panties down your legs.
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comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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godslino · 4 months
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ORANGE PEELS | minho established relationship. fluff.
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pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 1.2k warnings: brief mention of not eating (nothing serious, reader is just really busy!) summary: minho and the orange peel theory
· · · ♡ masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
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“Well hello there beautifu—oh, okay. Or not.”
Minho blinks at the empty space where you’d just been standing, dumbfounded at the lack of enthusiasm at his arrival. When he realizes you’re not coming back, long gone into the living room, he makes his way inside.
“Sorry! I have to finish!” You call over your shoulder, hurrying back to your laptop. You seat yourself on the floor, back against the couch as you resume typing.
There are sounds of Minho toeing his shoes off at the door, bags being placed on the counter, and then eventually the rustling of his jacket as he shucks it off and throws it across the back of the couch.
“You’re not done yet?” He asks, crouching beside you. He knocks a kiss to your temple, and you let yourself lean into the touch for a moment.
“No,” you sigh, “I have, like, five pages left.”
“Babe, you realize it’s almost seven-thirty, right?”
“I know!”
“Okay, okay.” He throws his hands up in surrender.
Minho disappears after that, knowing how much you need space and silence when you’re focusing. You feel bad about it afterwards, not meaning to snap at him especially since tonight was supposed to be date night.
The two of you had plans to stay in; Minho was going to cook a small dinner while you picked out a series of movies, and then the both of you were going to plant yourselves on the couch for the remainder of the evening and celebrate the rare occasion of being off of work on the same night.
Everything got derailed when you woke up that morning and saw that you had an email notification from one of your professors:
Good morning all,
A gentle reminder that your reports are due by 11:59pm. Late work will be accepted with the stipulation that 10 points are deducted for each day that has passed since the original due date. If you have any questions about my late work policy, please refer to the syllabus.
Happy Friday!
Best Regards,
Professor Kang
The whole thing is entirely your fault. You’d failed to realize that the deadline had been pushed up by a week, your mind still under the impression that you had time to finish. Thankfully, you’d at least started the report. The down side was that out of a fifteen page paper, you only had around five done.
So, after a few messages to Minho where you apologized profusely, followed by a phone call where he reassured you that it was fine, the two of you still decided to go through with your plans. You’d been glued to your computer all day, desperately trying to finish before Minho was set to arrive. But as it turns out, the rubric for the assignment is a lot more detailed than you had originally thought, so the process has been rather slow.
“Have you eaten?” Minho calls from the kitchen, followed by the sound of your cupboards opening and closing. You respond with a sound of dismissal, your eyes scanning the screen for any typos.
“Babe?” He tries again.
“Huh? What? No, I haven’t.”
“Wrong answer.”
“Minho, I don’t have time—”
“I don’t care.” He says, his voice much closer this time. “How do you expect to get anything done if you’re hungry?”
“Haven’t even had a chance to be hungry if I’m being honest.”
“Wrong answer. Again.”
“It’s fine.” You shrug, looking up at him. He’s standing over you with his arms crossed, a disapproving look on his face.
When you turn your attention back to your laptop, he sighs in defeat, walking back towards the kitchen. You close your eyes for a moment, reminding yourself that he’s only trying to look out for you. Minho has never been a fan of your tendency to neglect yourself, especially in times of stress. So, in lieu of upsetting him, you call out,
“Can you toss me one of the oranges on the counter?”
Minho doesn’t respond. He’s probably sulking, something he always does whenever he’s upset. You briefly consider getting up to kiss the pout he’s probably sporting off of his face. But the clock is ticking, and if you finish the report, there’ll be more than enough time to do that later.
You’re so engrossed in your work, a helpful article that you managed to stumble upon giving you a huge amount of evidence for your final argument, that you don’t even realize it when Minho plops down on the floor beside you. You open your mouth to say something, turn your head towards him, and are met by his hand shoving a piece of orange into your mouth.
“Eat.” He says firmly, blinking when you slowly begin to chew. You stare at him with a confused look, releasing some of the tension between your eyebrows when he brings a finger up to poke the spot in the middle of them. “If you won’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you. Just eat.”
You swallow, a small smile forming on your lips. Minho isn’t paying attention, his focus on the peeled orange in his hands as he breaks the pieces off one by one.
Soft and loving. Minho has always treated you the way you deserve. There’s never been a moment where you questioned how much he cares for you, not when he makes sure that you’re always his first priority. It doesn’t matter how tired he is, he’s always there, always ready and willing, always giving.
You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, laughing when he suppresses a smile, the shells of his ears a bright pink. “You’re cute, you know that?”
“Yeah and you’re a chronic procrastinator.” He’s quick to bite back, holding up another piece of the orange to your mouth. You take it from him gladly, and he can’t help but finally crack a smile.
“I’m sorry I ruined date night.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.” Minho says, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I already told you, it doesn’t matter what we do. I’m just happy we’re together.”
His words make warmth bloom in your chest. You turn to him, squishing his cheeks in both your hands. He blinks, “What?”
“Lee Minho. How did I get so lucky?”
He laughs at that, breathy and muffled from the way his face sits in your hands. “Well for starters, I’m the one who asked for your number, so if you really wanna get technical then—” He’s cut off when you lean forward and plant a big kiss on his lips.
“You didn’t let me finish.” Minho pouts when you pull away.
“You were getting cocky, I had to do something.”
“Says the person who ruined date night.”
“Hey! You said I didn’t—”
He shoves another piece of orange into your mouth, laughing when you cough around his fingers. He’s up and running in the blink of an eye, dodging your arms when you try to grab for his shirt. Minho’s quick, he waits for the opportunity and lunges for your waist, throwing you over his shoulder with a squeal. You beat your fists against his back, not really putting up a fight, though you’ll never admit that.
There’s only a few hours left until your report is due, but you can’t be bothered to care. Not when Minho is pinning you against the couch, hands poking your sides as he tickles you and kisses all over your face, the sound of both your laughter filling the apartment and the faint scent of oranges on his fingertips.
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© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.
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svnarin · 4 months
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⊹˚₊‧ fifteen (15) bf!kita shinsuke headcanons
ps! this is just yet another repost from my old blog! reposting it here because this one’s one of my personal faves :>
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bf!kita shinsuke who immediately introduced you to his grandma the moment the two of you officially became a couple.
bf!kita shinsuke who may seem cold to everyone but will look at you with adoring eyes and the sweetest smile on his face. even his juniors during high school, like suna rintarou, noticed it when he met the two of you together for the very first time. 
bf!kita shinsuke who likes inviting you to any family outing and their house whenever there is a family occasion. he always makes sure that you feel loved by his whole family and makes you feel that you are a part of their family.
bf!kita shinsuke who got a little embarrassed at first when he saw that his grandma showed you his pictures when he was just a little kid, but the moment he saw how you fell in love with the pictures, he didn’t hesitate to say yes when you asked if you could have one of those.
bf!kita shinsuke who always makes sure that he has clothes in their home that you can wear whenever you spend the night at their home. some of the clothes such as shirts or sweaters are his while some are hand-me-downs from family members.
bf!kita shinsuke who will cook your favorite meals, even if you don’t ask for it, whenever you come by to their home. and if he’s gonna run into errands after cooking your favorite meal, he always makes sure to leave you some lovely notes alongside it.
bf!kita shinsuke who started planting and growing some flowers because he wants to give you a bouquet of flowers that he personally grew for you.
bf!kita shinsuke who likes to bring you fruits and homemade snacks during breaks, and the snacks that he gives you are always on the next level and nutritious. he would even stick some cute notes on them. 
bf!kita shinsuke who likes buying little trinkets because they remind him of you. he would display some of those around his bedroom and he will give the others to you.
bf!kita shinsuke who always makes sure that he’s not hurting you through his bluntness. he now often uses the time to think about what he’s going to say next to you to avoid hurting your feelings. 
bf!kita shinsuke who will always immediately go to your place to take care of you the moment he hears that you’re sick or something bad has happened to you. he’s in the middle of work when he learns that you’re sick? you bet he’s already running towards to get his keys, along with some herbal medicines, to drive towards your place.
bf!kita shinsuke who isn’t much of a pda person but enjoys holding your hand in public. in private, he likes hugging you tightly before giving you a kiss on the crown of your head.
bf!kita shinsuke who never misses a day and night of sending you good morning and good night messages. he would even add additional messages such as “don’t overwork yourself today,” “don’t forget to drink some water,” “don’t go to bed too late,” etc. before ending it with an “i love you.”
bf!kita shinsuke who will help you with anything he is capable of. he will help you study for a board exam or prepare for an interview. and if he’s not familiar with something, he will still try his best to help you, such as researching how to do a certain thing, etc. 
bf!kita shinsuke who recently started thinking about and asking his and your relatives what he’s gonna say by the time he’s going to ask for your hand in marriage.
bf!sunarin headcanons
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𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | repost, modification, and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited.
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7ndipity · 2 months
Note
I was just daydreaming and realized I've never had a bouquet or flowers from anyone, soo...
Could you do them picking flowers to their S.O?
Flowers For Their S/o
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: What types of flowers that the members would get for their S/o
Warnings: none
A/N: Thank you for sending this request! Tbh, I’ve never received flowers either(I’m pretty sure I’d burst into tears if I ever did, lol), so we can just daydream together💐 I hope this is okay!💜
Masterlist
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Jin: Jinnie loves getting you flowers, whether it’s for your 3 month anniversary or just a random Tuesday, he just loves how happy they make you! He usually goes for something classic like pink roses or tulips, tho, he definitely likes to splurge on bigger, more elaborate bouquets for special occasions.
Yoongi: Yoongi always gets you daisies, doesn’t matter what type of bouquet it is, there’s always some type of daisies peeking out the mix at you. If you ever ask why, he’ll admit it’s bc you mentioned them once on your first date, and now everytime he sees them, he thinks of you.
Hobi: Bc it’s Hobi, my brain immediately went to sunflowers, but I actually think he would get you smth like dahlias or peonies. Expect them every week for the foreseeable future tho, bc he plans to make up for any bouquets that you’ve missed out on in the past.
Namjoon: I could see Joon trying to be clever and getting you a potted plant instead so that it (hopefully)doesn’t die in a week like cut flowers do, but sometimes his sentimental side gets the best of him and he comes home w a bright mixed bouquet for you.
Jimin: Jimin I think would make a point to find out what your favorite flower is, and then makes sure to always include them in every single bouquet he gets you. I also think he would like simple bouquets of things like carnations, bc they’re so bright and friendly looking.
Taehyung: Tae’s a classic romantic, so he tends to bring you red roses a lot. He’s also a fan of big gestures tho, so don’t be surprised when he sends like 20 bunches of smth bright like daffodils or chrysanthemums to your place whenever you’re sad or he’s traveling.
Jungkook: I think Jk would typically get you different flowers every single time, bc he can never make up his mind and he just likes surprising you, but I think he would especially like getting you a mix of lilies(his birth flower) and whatever your birth flower is.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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Halsin and Silvanus
In the course of my recent research on Bane for a lore request fill, I found myself coming across a lot of very interesting information, previously unknown to me, about the other gods of the Forgotten Realms — in particular Silvanus. There was enough there that it inspired me to direct some extra research hours into this writeup, exploring all the reasons why Halsin is a quintessential Silvanite.
If you would like any more information on anything included here, please feel free to drop a comment or an ask, as there is truly so much that I just don’t have the space to include. (I usually end up with about 12-13 pages of source quotes before I begin one of these meta posts.)
My usual note that, as ever, these writeups will align with current 5e lore, and draw from 3.5e for additional supporting information. On rarer occasions – and always noted – I will reference 1e and 2e, but with the caveats that there is much more in those editions that is tonally dissonant with the modern conception of the Forgotten Realms, and thus generally less applicable.
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Silvanus is easily one of the most misunderstood gods of the Faerûnian pantheon. This is even pointed out directly within his section of the 3.5e Faiths & Pantheons (an incredible resource if you are looking for more detailed information on the gods of the Forgotten Realms!): 
Nevertheless, most outsiders view the church of Chauntea, as patrons of agriculture, as being favorably inclined toward the expansion of civilization, while the church of Silvanus is the implacable foe of those who would settle new lands. Neither impression is correct, yet the church of the Oak Father is often perceived as little different from those faiths that venerate the Deities of Fury.¹ [emphasis added]
Silvanus is most often perceived as strictly and impassively neutral, and intrinsically opposed to civilization in all its forms. While the former is something close to true – he is a very neutral-aligned deity, albeit not necessarily in a way that matches the popular conception of the term – the latter is certainly not. Humanity (if you’ll forgive the use of the term to designate in broad strokes the non-animal denizens of the Material Plane) is another facet of nature, one given equal consideration to the rest – plant, animal, and other – by Silvanus.²
While as a whole followers of Silvanus have a preference for the wilds and the deep forests, this is by no means a concrete rule. In fact, Silvanite clergy – those known as druids – are not uncommonly found in enclaves in larger cities of the Sword Coast and beyond, including Waterdeep.² Typically these druids will “create gardenlike walled areas of wild forest within the city limits.”¹ Wherever they may find themselves, Silvanite druids work to maintain the Balance of nature around them, through education and direct action both. 
Silvanus’s dogma has much to tell us about his philosophy, and that of his followers. I’ll be splitting notable excerpts and their relation to Halsin into sections below. 
Hold your distance and take in the total situation, rather than latching on to the popular idea of what is best.¹ 
Halsin was, from the first moment I met him in-game, so notable for his calm self-possession, and the clear forethought he gave to his actions and those of others. He does not feel bound by the expectations or approval of others – as noted in the dialogue he shares with the player if they compliment his choice of successor – but instead makes his own path following the direction of Silvanus’s wisdom and will. 
Resort to violence and open confrontation only when pressured by time or hostile action.¹
This is showcased numerous times throughout the game, but perhaps best evidenced by an in-game note, from an unlikely source: the Priestess Gut. The note that you can find from her, regarding Halsin’s capture, notes the following: 
Said he thinks there's somethin' rotten inside us. Inside me. Reckons he can help get rid of the rot. I told him we don't need any help from nobody. Never did. And especially not now the Absolute's taken a shine to us.³
Despite the immediacy of his capture at their hands, and the preceding attack already lodged against himself and Nettie⁴, Halsin’s primary impulse is to attempt diplomacy, and render aid. This only changes when his length of captivity has made it clear that there will be no changing the minds of the cultists, and they must be dissuaded by stronger means.
Banish disease wherever you find it¹
The way Halsin is first introduced to the player is as a healer – and not just any healer, but a masterful one, known throughout the region, who has the best chance of being able to assist with any manner of strange ailment. It is clear in all ways, as well as in the scenario referenced in the preceding section, that this is an aspect of Silvanus that Halsin strives to embody at all times. 
Seek out, serve, and befriend the dryads and learn their names.¹
Particularly if we understand the reference to dryads here to extend to all fey spirits of nature, this gives new depth to Halsin’s friendship and devotion to the nature spirit Thaniel. Halsin, as a druid generally, and as an Archdruid in particular, would have a solemn and divinely-ordained responsibility to redress the upheaval of the Balance within the Shadowcursed lands. For that reason alone, it is no surprise that it was his primary motivation and consideration for nigh on a century. 
However, even above and beyond that, Halsin had an additional motivator. Even before he became a druid, potentially before he was exposed to the teachings of Silvanus in anything but the most vague and general of terms, he was living them out by befriending the local nature spirit, learning his name, and seeking to understand, serve, and protect him. 
Make others see the balance and work against those that would disturb it. Watch, anticipate, and quietly manipulate.¹
The primary source text I am using to draw this connection was written neither by nor about Halsin, yet I believe it still clearly reflects on him, for reasons that will become clear. This text is from a logbook recording activities of the Emerald Grove during the year 1371, 121 years prior to the start of the game’s storyline, and some years before the defining events in the soon-to-be Shadowcursed Lands. 
6 Uktar: Sent two druids, some of the newer recruits, up north. Village there has had two years of failed crops and are unlikely to survive the next winter. 9 Uktar: A group from Baldur's Gate arrived. They've set up camp on the edge of the forest. Two bears and a fox came by. Their territory has been burned out. Half the fox's cubs died. Paying this new group a visit tomorrow. 10 Uktar: Visit did not go well. After telling me where to shove it, they said they'd cut down half the forest and burn out any wildlife that dared to stick around. Claimed they were going to 'farm the land and make a new city of their own.' Time to get creative. 12 Uktar: Mudslide did the trick. Buried half their farming equipment and made the rest useless. They won't be back any time soon. Got reports of a Red Wizard in the village south of here. Sending three rangers to investigate. If they catch even a whiff of a red cloak, I'm contacting the House of Silvanus.⁵
Given the timeline, while this is unlikely to have been written by Halsin himself, it seems like a strong possibility that it was written by his master, the previous Archdruid of the Emerald Grove, who perished in the fight against Ketheric Thorm. This is supported by the clear evidence that the author was an individual in a position to give direction and command to those around them, and to make the call for how to deal with various situations. Given too what we know of the druidic leadership structure, Halsin would have been the previous Archdruid’s Second, as Kagha was his.⁶ 
This man, then, would have greatly influenced Halsin as a druid of Silvanus and as a leader both. We can presume that this watchful duty and deliberation was one that Halsin himself took over, charged with doing his part to maintain the Balance of the region around the grove.  This last point especially becomes even more significant in light of the following information, which comes not from Silvanus’s dogma, but rather from a description of his followers and traditions of worship: 
Members of the clergy work to redirect development and control populations through covert sponsorship of brigands, breeding and selective placing of predators, and other means. It is essential that such work be as secretive as possible, so that most folk view the servants of Silvanus as essentially benign lovers of trees. Wildlife breeding, nursing sick animals, and replanting trees and wild shrubs are all work that should be done as publicly as possible to support this perception – and as necessary work to redress the slipping Balance, of course.¹ [emphasis added]
It is clear from all preceding evidence, and this excerpt in particular, that the druids as a whole put far more thought and strategy into every aspect of their appearance and the perception of them than they would ever want outsiders to become aware of. Halsin himself corroborates this in-game, noting that, while druids might not like politicking, that certainly does not mean they haven’t the skill for it when called upon. 
For the sake of… well. (I have been advised by my legal counsel not to use “brevity” here.) Regardless! For the sake of my sanity and your time, I will refrain from going into further detail on specific instances that show this to be true of Halsin. I will merely encourage you, the reader, to consider the value this brings to his character and druids as a whole, and hope to encourage new appreciation for their refreshing complexity. 
In closing, I leave you with one final quote: 
Superior patience, natural knowledge, and anticipation are the hallmarks of a worthy servant of Silvanus.¹
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¹ Faiths and Pantheons. 2002. p. 63.
² Dragon Magazine #412. June 2012. pp. 22-3.
³ Rancid Note. In-Game Text. 
⁴ Halsin’s Journal, Vol I. In-Game Text. 
⁵ Logbook XII: 1371. In-Game Text. 
⁶ Grove Annals. In-Game Text.
510 notes · View notes
just-jordie-things · 7 months
Text
blue orchids and white lies - nanami kento
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word count: 5.2k warnings: none ? summary: nanami's never cared much for flowers until he steps foot in her shop and suddenly he's an avid gift giver of luxurious bouquets. a/n: this is for the anon that sent me a brainrot so good i blacked out, wrote this, and will prolly receive hate in the future as it's the only nanami piece i will (probably) ever write </3 ___
The first time Nanami Kento steps foot into that tiny flower shop, he treats it more as an errand than anything else.
Shoko was throwing a little get-together later that evening- something about a creepy discovery she’d made during an autopsy that excited her, truthfully Nanami tried not to pay too much attention to the gruesome details she’d shared- and he didn’t want to show up empty handed.  Utahime had already declared she was bringing the champagne, Gojo covered the catering from some fine dining restaurant Nanami had never even heard of, and it seemed as though flowers were the best he could come up with.
Still, being the thoughtful gentleman he was, he figured he might as well splurge on a well crafted bouquet, rather than the cheap banded wilting things at the grocery store.
Despite being right next door to his favorite bakery in Tokyo, he’d never had an interest to poke around the little shop.  There had never really been an occasion for him to buy flowers, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to pick some up just to freshen up his office or dining room table.  If anything, once the little bell above the door jingles to signal his entry, he feels incredibly out of place.  The shop is tiny, and covered nearly ceiling to floor in bright blooms of plants he’s never even seen before.
A soft but cheery “Welcome in!” comes from the wall where there are two clerks working away with nothing short of joy on their faces.  The first is cashing someone out at the register, handing over a plastic wrapped bundle of what he assumes are tulips but he’s not quite sure.  The other being the one who greeted him, and-
Nanami freezes, which is out of character enough to make his face feel warm and his heart stutter in his chest.  The other clerk, a woman who seemed to be playing rather than working on the bouquet before her.  As quick as she was to welcome the new customer, she was just as quick to return to rearranging the bundle of purple and white flowers before her.  She doesn’t even seem to notice the way Nanami stands in the doorway struck by awe as he watches her over-analyze the way each petal pushes against one another.
After a second too long of staring he realizes how creepy he’s being, and he makes a beeline for the opposite side of the shop, hoping no one around caught the way he’d shamelessly stared at a complete stranger, much less a woman simply trying to do her job.  She didn’t need some random customer ogling her- he wasn’t Gojo.
He pretends to glance over the array of pre-arranged bouquets on the far wall.  Pretend, as in technically he’s looking at them but he’s not really paying any attention.  His mind is still buzzing with that lingering haze of love at first sight wondrous surprise.  Eventually he settles for an arrangement of red roses.  Roses were always a safe bet to go with, right? It’s not like Shoko screamed ‘flower lover’ in her offputting demeanor.  As he’s carrying the bouquet to the front, he’s starting to second guess the whole thing.
Shoko would definitely smirk in his face for bringing such a silly gift to her party.  She’d probably start laughing if he told her that he was purposefully waiting for the pretty clerk who’d greeted him to cash him out- wait, what-?
“All set?” 
He tries to cover the way his eyes widen when she slides the project in her vase aside and beckons him to step up to his counter.  The other counter was completely open, and he could feel the way the second clerk stared at him in bewilderment as he’d ignored the universal sign for ‘my register is open’.  But Nanami is not as smooth as he’d like to be, and he can tell by the uptick in the corner of her mouth that she’s amused by his frozen stature.
“Yes- yeah, just this,” He feels like a teenager for stammering over his words, but she pays it no mind.  Her movements are overly gentle as she takes the bundle of roses from his hands, treating the bouquet with the utmost care, as though it were a newborn child.
His eyes glance down the nametag on her apron quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice his sudden urge to put a name to the pretty face.  (y/n).  Certainly fitting.  Even her apron is embroidered with little colorful threads of cartoonish flowers.  Peeking at the apron of the other employee and finding nothing but a little bee pin secured next to their name tag, he wonders if she embroidered those flowers herself.
“These are beautiful, they’re going to love them,” She’s speaking again and Nanami finds himself standing up a little straighter.  “Would you like them wrapped up in a special way? I have tissue and ribbon” She offers with a smile that has all of the blood rushing towards his face.  He prays it’s not  noticeable.
“Uh- that’s probably not… no, I don’t think so” He replies awkwardly, and she can’t help but laugh a bit at his uncertainty.
“First time buying flowers for someone?” She asks, and he watches as she pulls open a drawer beside her and plucks out a sheet of white tissue paper with just the faintest bits of glitter sparkling on it.
“That obvious?” He mumbles, and he hopes it comes across more playful than embarrassed, but deep down, Nanami knows it’s the latter.
(y/n) chuckles again, expertly crafting the tissue to fit around the bouquet in a flattering way.  She makes it look easy, the way the paper folds to her will neatly.  It’s a simple task, but Nanami knows if he’d tried it himself, the tissue would wrinkle and it wouldn’t look nearly as flattering as she presents it.
“You’re not the first man to pick out the first bouquet of roses he sees,” SHe teases gently.  “No offense though, these are gorgeous.  I have to say I really outdid myself” 
“You grow them all yourself?” Nanami asks, and instantly regrets it.  Is that a stupid question? Do all florists grow their own supply? He hadn’t a clue on the inner workings of the flower market.
“I sure do!” Her reply is cheerful, and the question seems a little less stupid.  “There’s a greenhouse out back, but between you and me,” She lowers her voice like she’s about to tell him a grave secret.  Her eyes lock on his with an intensity Nanami thinks could rival Gojo’s.  “My best work comes from my own garden at home” She confesses.
Nanami can’t help the way it cracks a smile out of him, especially when she grins widely and finishes up his bouquet with a pretty string of red ribbon.  Even the way she curls it with the sharp edge of a pair of shears is done to perfection.  He really had to hand it to her for her craftsmanship.
He pays, making sure to tip a generous amount on the card reader, even if it is purely because she’d seemed to sweep him off his feet in less than two minutes of conversation.
“She’ll be very excited to receive these, they’re absolutely perfect” (y/n) says, handing the bouquet back to him with just as much grace as before.  Nanami finds himself moving slowly, careful not to crinkle a single edge of the tissue.
“I don’t know about that, I don’t think she even likes flowers,” Nanami says as he glances over the red petals smiling up at him.  The implication of the statement doesn’t hit him until a moment too late, and he looks back up at (y/n) almost too quickly, his eyes widened slightly as he tries to backtrack.  “She’s a friend- a, uh, colleague sort of friend.  She’s celebrating something and I… really didn’t know what to bring” It’s a lame explanation, and he finds himself fubbing the back of his neck and hoping he doesn’t come across like some slimy liar trying to cover his tracks.
“Oh! I see.  I just assumed, because, you know…” (y/n) laughs softly as she gestures to the roses.  Nanami follows the gesture before glancing back at her, his confusion evident.  “Cause roses are usually a symbol of romance.  Well, the symbol of romance, really” She explains.
His eyes widen further and she can’t help but laugh a little more.  Everything about her new customer amused her, and she didn’t usually spend so much time chatting with people that weren’t trying to chat with her, but she couldn’t help but want to drag the conversation on just a little bit longer.
“Oh god,” Nanami mutters, staring down at the roses with a newfound dislike for them.  “They’re going to laugh at me” 
“No, no, they won’t,” (y/n) quickly shakes her head.  “I’m sure your friend will think it’s sweet.  She’ll understand.  It’s a very kind gesture” 
He can tell just by looking at her that her words are genuine, she’s not just saying them to make him feel better.  Her eyes gleam as she nods at him encouragingly.
“Alright,” He sighs, giving the roses one last once over to make sure he’s not making a grave mistake.  “But if they laugh I’m not getting the fancy paper next time” 
Her cheeks bloom with color, next time, she repeats in her mind, and there’s an undeniable flutter in her chest at the sentiment.  She nods back at him with certainty.
“If they laugh, then I’ll help you pick out an appropriate bouquet, next time” She promises, and again he can’t explain it, but Nanami knows she absolutely means it.
His smile is soft, so unbelievably velvety soft as he nods and bids her a good day before making his way back out of the shop.
That night as expected, Shoko does make a weird face when he offers up the bouquet of flowers.  She gives him a tease he sees coming from a mile away- ‘Kento, flowers? I didn’t think you would know where to find these’- which makes the rest of the group laugh as well.  He decides he’ll gloss over that fact on his next visit to the flower shop. ___
His second visit to the flower shop, he realizes too late that he doesn’t have a decent reason for picking up a pricey bouquet of flowers.  As he wanders around aimlessly while (y/n’s) busy wrapping another pretty bundle for a customer, he thinks maybe she wouldn’t even ask what the occasion is.
“Hey,” 
And then she’s standing right next to him as he’s eyeing a clump of purple bundles that smells divine.  The smile on her face is one of clear recognition, and it makes his chest warm that she’d remember him, much less approach him first.
“So, what’s the special occasion this time?” 
And of course her first question is that one.  He would smack a hand to his face if it wasn’t so embarrassing.  She’s probably asking because he failed so miserably at picking out a proper bouquet last time, and he has to give her credit for offering him help, even though he’s struggling to come up with a half decent response.
But before he can stop himself, he’s saying,
“It’s my mom’s birthday” 
Which is an odd choice of lie.  He hadn’t seen his mother in years, and her birthday had passed months ago.  But that’s what he comes up with, and it’s not exactly the worst lie, but the cringe he makes as soon as it leaves his mouth isn’t all that hidden.
“That’s nice,” (y/n) beams at the thought.  “Do you know what she likes?” 
The way his face pales answers her question plenty, and she chuckles a bit as her eyes begin to wander the shop.  “No problem, I have just the thing,” She beckons him to follow her as she wanders off a bit.  “She’s an aquarius, so the safe bet is orchids,” 
He’s not even sure what she’s saying, but he nods along like he understands perfectly.
“I have these, if you like white,” She suggests, and he eyes the pretty thin stems with white flowers budding off of them.  Oh, so those were orchids.  Then her eyes light up, and without thinking, she reaches out and places a hand on his arm with her excitement.  “But I just brought in some blue ones from home, it was too cold to keep them there, would you like to see those?” 
He actually doesn’t need any flowers at all, so worrying about the color was far from his mind.
“Blue sounds lovely” He gives her a nod and as he thought she might, she grins before rushing off to the back of the shop.  He blames the way his skin tingles from where her tough had just left him even from under two layers of clothes.
As he slowly makes his way to the front to await her blue orchids, he glances around the shop a bit more.  Every single plant his eyes land on looks like they’ve been loved to the fullest extent.  Bright blooms of color cover every inch of space, every counter, shelf, and hook on the ceiling has a well loved clump of flowers occupying it.  Nanami can name roses and daisies, and he thinks the purple flowers he’d been eyeing earlier was lavender, but most of what fills this shop looks like a completely new plant he’d never discovered before. 
He wonders how much of her life (y/n’s) spent mastering her craft, because clearly, not a single sprout of life looks untouched or forgotten.
“Here you are,” She comes back out with a beam even wider than before as she holds up her precious blue orchids proudly.  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” 
He hums in agreement, his face warm as he barely even casts a glance at the bundle in her hands.  It might be obvious and cheesy, but he can’t exactly help it.
“Or were you looking at something else?” (y/n) asks, nodding to the hanging pot his eyes had been focused on before she’d come back out.  “The star jasmine is also lovely, but they can be tough to take care of at first” 
Again, he barely casts his gaze towards the pot before he’s turning back to her again, an amused little smile on his face.
“Could you really name every plant in here?” He asks, and he knows it’s a dumb question by the way she laughs, loudly, as if he’d made the funniest joke she’s heard in ages.
“Of course I could, it’s my job” She reminds him, and he nods, humming to himself thoughtfully as his gaze flickers across the shop.
“How about those then?” He points to a small pot of pinkish-purple flowers challengingly.  (y/n) glances at them before turning her attention back to him, raising a brow.
“Those would be cosmos” She says slowly, but matter of factly.  Nanami doesn’t necessarily have a way to fact check her, so he quickly points to another pot.
“And those?” 
“Gazanias” She barely had to look at them to give him her answer.
Nanami sighs as he turns back to her in defeat, and her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes.
“Not much fun of a game, is it?” She teases with a quiet laugh.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have underestimated you” He replies, and she shrugs a shoulder at him, her eyes falling to her prized blue orchids in her hands.  Absent-mindedly, she pokes and prods at a few stems, ensuring they were healthy before she passed them off to the handsome customer.
“It’s been a slow afternoon, you could have underestimated me a little longer if you’d like,” She says, only half joking.  Nanami breathes out a laugh of amusement.  He’s not sure if she’s flirting with him or just being playful, but from the way his heart skips a beat he certainly hopes she is flirting.  “Anyways,” (y/n) clears her throat, reminding herself to go back to the task at hand.  “I think your mother would adore these.  I certainly do” 
“Those it is, then” He affirms, and she eagerly circles around the counter, already gathering a few pieces of tissue paper she deemed pretty enough to pair with the rich blues of the flower.
“So now you’re a flower-gifting kind of guy, hm?” She asks him as she carefully wraps the thin sheets around the stems of the orchids.  “The roses must’ve gone over well, then?” 
Nanami chuckles, tucking his hands into his pockets.  More or less, he thinks.
“It might be a bit of a copout, if I’m being honest,” He admits.  “I don’t really know what else to give her.  But I’m an only child, so, I kind of have the responsibility to step it up” 
“That’s alright,” (y/n) hums, her focus completely on making sure the flowers are as presentable as can be.  “Flowers are always a thoughtful gift.  Especially mine, got it?” It’s the only time she looks up at him while wrapping up the orchids, a threatening expression on her face.  “Don’t go to the other shops in town, they’re sellouts, got it?” 
He laughs at her seriousness, before crossing his hand over his chest in an x motion.
“I didn’t know there was a flower shop turf war here in the shopping district” He muses.  (y/n) huffs as she carefully moves about a few stems so each one would fall just so.
“Well, there is,” She mumbles like an afterthought.  
There’s the tiniest of creases between her brows, and Nanami wants to tell her not to worry so much over this bouquet, seeing as he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with it once he’s home, but he has a feeling the sentiment would fall on deaf ears.  She seems quite lost in her arranging.
“And besides, I gotta make sure I have loyal customers, don’t I?” She adds once she’s finished, and her serious expression crumbles into one of softness as she gazes up at him again.
“Whatever it takes” Nanami hums in agreement.  He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too foolishly, but he’s not sure it helps his case. 
“What’s your name, anyways?” 
He’s not sure why, but the simple question takes him aback, as though it were as forward as asking for his phone number.  He hesitates too long, he knows by the way she lightly raises a brow at the way he pauses before he answers.
“Nanami, Kento” Even his answer is slow, but she hums and nods at him nonetheless, as though engraving it to memory on the spot.
“Nanami Kento,” 
She extends her hand as she repeats the name, and it takes every ounce of will he has left to keep a shiver from crawling down his spine.  He didn’t think his name could sound so sweet on another person’s voice before.  He raises his hand to shake hers politely, trying not to focus too hard on how soft her small hand feels when fitted against his.  His noticeably larger hand encases hers almost completely.
“I’m (y/l/n) (y/n),” She introduces, as if her name hadn’t been circling around his mind in the couple of weeks since he’d last been here.  “But everyone just calls me (y/n)” 
“Alright, (y/n),” He muses, and he wonders if she’d felt just as warm repeating his name as he did finally saying hers aloud.  “You can just call me Kento, then” 
She smiles, and the color in her cheeks is undeniable.  He almost forgets to release her hand.
Once the orchids are perfectly bundled up, she passes them across the counter, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing over his knuckles as they both handle the bouquet with great care.
“How much do I owe you for these?” 
“Oh, they’re on the house,” She waves a dismissive hand, and she can tell by the way he frowns that he’s going to argue, so she’s quick to keep speaking.  “They’re not even in inventory, they won’t be missed.  They’ll be of much better use as a gift to your mother, anyways” 
“I don’t consider that fair-” 
“I won’t accept a single cent,” She tells him boldly, her hands on her hips, and he wonders if this is her idea of scolding.  That cute furrow in her brow and the slight pout on her lips as she glares at him.  It’s downright adorable and yet again, she’s seized his heart.  “Now go, you can’t arrive late on your own mother’s birthday” She waves her hand in a shooing motion towards the door.
God, he’s going to hell for this lie.
“Alright, alright,” He chuckles as he backs away, slowly heading for the door.  “I’ll let you know how much she loves them” 
(y/n) leans across the counter as she watches him go, her face burning with her lingering blush as she shamelessly admires him while he’s not looking.
“Come back soon, Kento!” She calls just as he’s stepped out.
He turns just as the door shuts behind him, catching her eye through the front window.  She’s smiling with utter glee as she waves at him, and this time he can’t hold back his smile as he waves back. ___
The third time he enters the flower shop, he has a better lie in mind.  The ruse of gift giving had worked perfectly so far, he might as well stick with it.
“Nanami Kento!” 
(y/n) welcomes him by name as soon as he walks in, and a rush of warmth spreads over him so quickly he thinks the other clerk working beside her is chuckling to themselves because of him.
(y/n) says something to her coworker before coming around the corner to approach him properly.  Her hair is tied in a messy bun on top of her head today, and it appeared she’d had some fun with a few little flowers sticking out of it.  He smiles as he admires the adorable look before he greets her.
“Afternoon, (y/n),” He replies warmly.  “Do you actually do any real work here?” He asks, nodding to the endearingly chaotic hairstyle.
“It pays to have a job you enjoy, right?” She asks.  “What do you do? Are you a time traveler?” She giggles through the question, the sound tinkly and so, so cute he thinks his knees could give out.
When she gestures back at him, it dawns on him that he’s left his sunglasses on his face.  He’s quick to pluck them off and tuck them into the pocket on the inside of his jacket.
“They’re odd, I know” He says, and hopes she won’t press further questions.  He’s had to lie about enough, what he does for work is an enigma even to him some days.
“I like em,” She shrugs.  “They make your whole business man thing look a bit more… steampunk” She waves her hands around the rest of his attire, and he can’t help but chuckle as he glances down at himself.
When he’d gone into the workforce he found he had preferred a business casual look more than the stuffy scratchy collars of the typical sorcerer’s uniform.  He’d matured a lot in that time, too, and after outgrowing his… emo… phase, found that a little pop of collar looked better on him than being swamped in black.
What’s funny was that what she called business man, Gojo liked to call flashy.
“Steampunk?” He repeats curiously.  “In a good way or a bad way?” 
“Depends,” She shrugs again, eyeing him skeptically.  “Are you planning on buying a bouquet today?” 
“I was, yes” He nods.
“Then in a good way,” She grins, and when he rolls his eyes at her in good nature, she only laughs more.  “Well tell me, who’s the lucky recipient this time?”
If he could get away with it, he’d happily stare at the way she smiles at him for hours.  Her hands clasped behind her back, the way her pretty eyes peer up at him from under her lashes, small splashes of color swirling within (y/e/c) irises.  Nanami can’t recall the last time he’d taken such a strong favor over another person, and in this moment if you’d asked, he’d tell you he’d never felt anything of the sort.  But her lips are plump and glossy today, and seeing them curled upwards so warmly, and for him, it has him in a chokehold.
He was growing so fond of her he almost couldn’t stand it anymore.  He could almost see that line he was trying not to trip across, because if he did step over it and into the unknown freefall that was complete and utter adoration… the thought terrifies him.
The invisible rose colored glasses that remained perched on his nose drove him to murmuring out today’s white lie before thinking about the credibility of it.
“My sister,” He finally answers.  “She’s got a promotion at work, and now I know the perfect secret in gift giving for women-” 
“I thought you were an only child?” 
Her brow furrows just slightly as she interrupts him with her question, a curiosity flickering over her features that has Nanami paling in an instant.  A part of him wants to be flattered that she’d remembered such a minor detail about his life that he’d given her a couple of weeks ago, but the anxiety that encompasses him as she’s caught him in his lie is a far more looming feeling.  He can feel sweat prick on the back of his neck right away.
The longer he hesitates to answer, the more expectant the look on her face is.  Slowly her eyebrows begin to raise, and her head tilts to the side ever so slightly.
“I… I am,” He starts slowly, hoping to stall until he finds the right explanation.  “I don’t know why I said that, um, what I… what I meant to say…” Unfortunately, he was as bad at stalling as he is at lying.
Through his terrible stammering, (y/n’s) perplexed expression starts to morph into something else.  The corner of her lips quirk up before she bites back her smile, pressing her lips together in a thin line.  She tries to hide it, but her smile is evident in the way her cheekbones raise, and the corners of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly.  She’s amused.  And Nanami’s not sure what startles him more, being caught in the lie, or the way she’s entertained by his scrambling.
“Nanami Kento, if you want to pop in just to see me, you can,” She tells him, and when she speaks there’s no chance of concealing the way her smile brightens her entire face.  “You don’t have to make up a sister just to come in” 
There’s some relief in knowing she isn’t upset, but it’s quickly eaten up by his nerves from her blatant tease.  His collar feels hot on his neck, and he’s certain that as soon as he leaves, he’ll have to loosen his tie.
It doesn’t help that the other clerk in the store had been obviously watching the entire interaction behind a large display vase of carnations.  Here and there they’d been snickering into their hand, surely also entertained by how terrible at this Nanami is.
“You’re right, I… I don’t know why I did that,” He chuckles bashfully.  (y/n) only glows brighter upon him fessing up to it.  “I did just… want to come and see you” 
She rocks on her feet a few times, her cheeks beginning to bloom with color.
“Well I’m glad you did,” She admits softly.  “You’re my favorite customer, you know” 
Nanami cracks a smile at that, some of the nerves starting to melt away the more he entertains the idea of crossing the blurring line between them.
“That simply can’t be true, I’ve only ever bought one bouquet” He reminds her, and she laughs a bit at the reminder.
“Alright, so you’re a flaky customer, but my favorite nonetheless,” She compromises.  “Besides, you said you were picking one up today, no takesies backsies” 
“Are you five?” He chuckles, but she waves her hand dismissively, ignoring the comment completely.
“What are you looking for today, Kento?” She changes the subject.
He thinks to himself for a moment, eyes flickering around the shop to see what stuck out to him.
Nanami Kento wasn’t necessarily a shy man, but he wasn’t the man that made the bold move.  That would be Gojo.  He also wasn’t the one to play coy until the other party eventually gave in either.  That was Shoko’s move.  Even after having a few short relationships or flings throughout the years, he never really made the first move.  Things sort of just… happened.
Now, he thinks it might be just the right time to make the bold move.
He still has to take a deep breath before he does, though.
“Depends,” He muses, glancing back at her.  “Which do you like best? I want to give you the right arrangement before dinner”  ___
bonus: 
They’re standing at the entrance to her building when she finally brings up the elephant in the room that had followed them for the entire evening.
“You know, it’s pretty corny to give me flowers that I grew from my store” 
“It was a good line, sweetheart, I’m going to stand by that,” He chuckles back at her.  “And you picked them” He adds, gesturing to the pretty bouquet of lilies of the valley tucked carefully in her arm.
“Forgive me for not being able to turn down pretty flowers from a handsome man” She replies playfully, and for once he manages to maintain control of himself as he gives her a gentle smile.
“Do you flirt with all of your customers to keep them coming back?” He replies coolly, and the giggle that escapes her is anything but coy.  Just pure, genuine joy.
She settles the bouquet safely in her arms before tilting forward on the tips of her toes.  It does little to nothing to shorten their height difference, but she’s close enough now that Nanami can practically taste the strawberry on her breath left from their dessert.  Common sense escapes him briefly as he follows suit, bending closer almost all the way.  The sudden movement startles her, her eyes widening and falling to watch his lips, curious if he’d actually kiss her so suddenly.  She smiles when he pauses just before his lips could touch hers, and her gaze flickers back up to his eyes.
“No,” She answers his question in a breath of a whisper.  “Just my favorite ones” 
He chuckles a bit at the cheeky answer, but he’s over the playful banter.  His hand, calloused, but warm and welcoming, reaches out to her chin, fingers gently tipping her head upwards just a little more, before he slides his palm across her cheek.
The question is on the tip of his tongue, but her eyes are already fluttering shut and she’s already closing the remaining space between them.  He supposes when her lips blindly land on his, he doesn’t need to ask for permission to kiss her goodnight. ___
xoxo ~ jordie
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haknom · 7 months
Text
BLOSSOM — YANG JUNGWON
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pairing: enemy to crush-prince!jungwon x fem!reader
synopsis: wanting to confess to your enemy was never easy, especially when you both were too embarrassed to do so.
note: this was written like last month but i just never thought it was good 😭 // blossom by wei >>>
wordcount: 699 words // warnings: fluff, angst, and they’re both cowards and mean to each other.
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LIVING IN THE SAME PALACE AS YANG JUNGWON, THE PRINCE OF THE FAMILY YOUR MOTHER ASSISTED, WAS NEVER EASY.
He never failed to irk your soul even if he was only breathing. Everything about him was aggravating, mainly his personality. The two of you didn’t get along at the start of your stay in the palace in the first place—he hated the thought of living with so-called peasants.
He was a stuck-up brat who only cared about wealth and what his friends would think. They all went to a prestigious school with high standards. You did too, but you didn’t fit in—not one bit.
Every time you walked down the halls, you were given dirty looks or something even worse. Still, that didn’t bother you. You were never phased by the opinions of others. Only your thoughts about yourself mattered.
That also could be the reason why Jungwon began to like you—4 years later. Yes, he was annoyed by the thought of having to spend every day with you under the same roof as him but maturing was all he needed.
Constantly teasing you and making you feel as though he didn’t care for you was only stage one of the five stages of grief—denial.
He sat on the grassy floor in their garden while picking at the newly bloomed flowers. Growing up, he loved the garden. He loved watching everything grow from a seed into something beautiful.
So, of course, he thought that could distract him and his constant thoughts of you but it didn’t. Here he was picking flowers for a bouquet to give to someone who wouldn’t leave his mind.
Stage two—anger. He was angry. He wanted to forget about you and his feelings, he really did, but he couldn’t. Seeing you every day only made things even harder. His face flushed even at the sound of your name. You had him head over heels for you and you didn’t even know.
He was too distracted to even notice the sudden figure that joined him in his flower picking. So, maybe the distraction did work?
“Hey,” you greeted, tired of waiting for Jungwon to notice you first. “What do you want?” He asked in his usual harsh tone. You rolled your eyes, shrugging it off. “Are these the ones you planted a few weeks ago?” You asked, delicately caressing the flower petals.
“Why do you ask?” He questioned while dusting off the soil from the flower stems in his hands. “Just curious.” You carefully removed your hands from the petals, too afraid to damage anything, and brought your knees to your chest.
“What’s the occasion?” You asked once again as you stared at the progress of the bouquet in his hold. “Please, is that a gift for someone?” You teased, earning a glare from Jungwon.
“Don’t get too giddy, it’s not for you.” Lies. It was definitely for you. There was nobody else who made his head spin or made him experience feelings of butterflies in his stomach like the way you did.
“You must be crazy. I wasn’t looking forward to any gift from you. With that snotty little attitude, I’m sure nobody from school was looking forward to it either.” You spat. Another lie.
After at least a year or two with the Yangs, you began to feel different around Jungwon. It was an odd feeling, not one that many would experience so easily but somehow, you did. It wasn’t the best feeling.
Not being able to think straight or avoid fumbling over your words when you’re around a certain someone you previously claimed to hate wasn’t the best feeling either.
It was quite embarrassing, to say the least. Yet, it still happened to you. Not being able to maintain your composure when arguing with Jungwon sucked. He always felt a little bit of pride and a ton of guilt after your banters were over but couldn’t bring himself to apologize.
Why? The reason was mutual; you were both too embarrassed. You didn’t want to admit you were wrong about anything, you always had to be right. The same went for Jungwon.
No wonder you two couldn’t bring yourselves to confess to each other.
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PERM TAGLIST: @soov @redm4ri @ox1-lovesick @urszn @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @ddeonudepressions @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @strwberrydinosaur @gibbysupremeacyisreal @rikizm @teddywonss @simp4jongseong @whoschr @forjungwons @yizhoutv @yuviqik @itsactuallylina @hermitanatta
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