#in most fics this scene is very angsty n stuff
Text
Jason in the manor for movie night: How'd you convince B to let me in anyways? I thought I wouldn't get an invite till I dropped the real bullets.
Dick busy trying to wrangle Damian away from Tim and Titus away from the snacks: B is really bad at facing the words he throws around ya know? So I told him since it's my fault you died I should be responsible for bringing you home- Tim don't!!!
Jason: B said what!?!?
#batfam#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#red hood#robin#tim drake#damian wayne#incorrect batfamily quotes#in most fics this scene is very angsty n stuff#but most parents when reminded of the really fucked up thing they said to their kid in anger tend to change the topic asap#n bruce deffo wasnt ready to start apologizing here#so he just let dick do what he wanted#Tim decided to bite Damian btw
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do a scenario of Bakugou aftermath of the manga war right now, cause sense he had so much character development I think he have changed majorly big. And was wondering a bakugou x reader, aftermath after battle. I hope your up to date with the manga rn cause it’s super sad :(
But Mabye a scene of reader x bakugou, he wakes up in hospital and sees her waiting next to him in a chair waiting for him to wake up. And when he does he’s glad to see her alive and asking so many questions ☹️ maybe even a lil romantic vibe at the end ??!??😌
That would be so sweet thank you’!!
this is such a cute request ! i've been thinkin of writing a post war fic lately so thank you for the ask ! i tried to honour your request as best i could, hope you'll like it ! <3
BNHA MANGA SPOILERS !!, fem reader, injuries n blood n stuff, reader cries easily sorry im projecting, katsuki n reader have been together for a while (since before the first internship arc !)(..does this technically qualify as childhood friends to…anyways !), worried reader, worried katsu so its a lil angsty but it's pure fluff no worries !, kissing, katsuki is touchy and cannot pass up skin contact, katsuki is a biter cus i say he is so biting, best jeanist is here!! (and maybe kinda ooc cus idk him like that😭🫶🏾), afo is mentioned and called a ballsack lmfao i hate him, everyone is fine and dandy and healthy(?) cus im a major optimist, lemme know if i missed sum else<3!
it's been three weeks since katsuki's been asleep.
you'd woken up a week and a few days after the war had ended. you don't remember much besides fighting for your life, that of your friends and of the people of japan. you were greeted with the worried, relieved and snotty faces of your classmates. denki and kirishima had basically tackle hugged you and were immediately strictly reprimanded by iida and momo. your limbs hurt like hell but you could ignore it and focus on squeezing your friends for now.
except not everyone was here. you immediately realised katsuki was one of them.
you were horrified to find out from your friends, who were sure this would be your reaction and were refraining from telling you, that katsuki had once again suffered major injuries and had been asleep for a good week now.
your classmates had tried to reassure you, "bakugou's always doin' the impossible, he'll probably be awake and he'll go back to cussin' up a storm before we know it." sero said, trying his best to comfort you. you send him a smile that doesn't fully reach your eyes, but you still appreciate him nonetheless.
since that day you'd gone to visit him everyday. sometimes you'd just stare at his pretty lashes fluttering, wondering when he'd wake up. other times you'd talk to him about your day. it was boring, since you were still healing and still stuck in the hospital, but it was something.
your classmates came to visit too. kirishima comes to visit the most but you assume he’s just here to check up on you and make sure you’re okay. he stays for around an hour, sneaks you some actually edible food then always leaves you with a “don’t push yourself too much, okay !”
you go to visit your other classmates, like izuku who had also taken a major beating, but was just as stubborn as your katsuki when it came to durability. you’re amazed to see how quickly he goes back to his old self, anxiously waving his arms around and telling you he’s completely okay, before promptly wincing and yelping out an “ouch !” when he moves his arm the wrong way. you jokingly warn him not to push himself too much too quickly or you’d mess him up even more than he already was every time you leave.
“i’ll try !” he chuckles, giving you a thumbs up.
you’d also met best jeanist recently, who had come to visit your boyfriend one day while you were also there. he told you that katsuki had talked about you once and that, in best jeanist’s words he seemed to be very enamored with you. you couldn’t help the way you shyly looked down at the ground, letting out a flustered chuckle and you thought you heard best jeanist laugh underneath his long, long turtleneck.
you’re currently sitting by katsuki’s bedside for the fourth monday in a row, smiling to yourself as you watch him sleep. you wonder if he’s dreaming about anything. despite the fact you looked it up and people can’t exactly dream while they’re in a coma, but you like to think he’s just asleep and having a very nice dream. the thought makes you happy, but it also makes a knot grow in your throat.
“i do hope you're having nice dreams, but i also hope you wake up soon." you whisper lovingly, brushing some hair out of his face. you run your finger along his nose bridge and cheek, usually he wouldn't be able to take soft touches like this for more than 10 seconds before getting embarrassed and pushing your hands away, trying to distract you from his beet red cheeks. you let out a watery giggle at the memory.
your throat starts feeling a little dry and as much as you don't want to leave katsuki, you figured you wouldn't miss much if you were only gone for a few minutes. you press a quick kiss to his forehead and before you get up to leave the room you look back at him once more time. only to see something strange, his eyelashes flutter more than usual, then his eyebrows furrow,
and then his eyes open.
he blinks groggily once, then twice. he tries to reach up and rub at his eye but the bandage on his arm won't allow him to and he winces. he realizes someone is in his room after a second, slowly looking up as if in slow motion. but then his movements fast forward when he realizes it's you in his room.
his eyes widen and he practically jumps up. hastily sitting up and leaning against the railing of his bed towards you
"yn—fuck !" but he seems to have underestimated how serious his injuries were in the moment. he doubles over and hisses in pain. the noise kickstarts you and immediatly you're in motion. you rush over to him, softly but urgently grabbing his shoulders you softly push him back against his pillows, he groans as you do. "don't sit up so quickly !" you fret "just lay down—"
he grabs your arm with his somewhat okay one tightly as soon as you make contact, "are you—fuck—are you okay ?" he asks breathlessly, his eyes urgently search around on your face and he frowns slightly as he scans over your light scratches. " fuck, i passed out before i could get to check up on you.." his eyebrows furrow even harder, mad at himself for not being able to watch over you.
he lifts his not so injured hand up just slightly and you lower your head so he can place it against your cheek. he rubs over it slowly "yer not hurt, are ya ? i mean—fuck, you are, but—"
"katsu.." you smile, already shushing him.
"nothing broken ?" he starts up again, prodding at every body part he can reach. you giggle lightly. "yer all bandaged up. swear i'll find the bastards who did this shit to you."
"i already dealt with them, so you don't need to worry about that." you chuckle. he copies you, his movements slow down the slightest bit and he chuckes slightly and you've missed that sound so much your heart squeezes.
“yeah, course you did..” he sighs, eyes shining brighter than usual and you suspect he’s tearing up a little when he swiftly looks away from you to wipe at his face, you don’t comment on it cus you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as well.
he tsks at the mostly okay, but still injured, arm against his face before pulling it back glaring at it, “this shit’s a real pain.” he mutters angrily, sucking his teeth.
you spring into action again, like a toy starting up when you wind it “don’t move it so much, you messed it up really badly during the fight !” you both notice how you flinch back when you instinctively go to grab his hand, then reach forward once more and barely grab his hand to guide it towards his lap, and then his body towards the pillows behind him again. katsuki’s eyebrows furrow at your ghost like touch.
he doesn’t say a word as you ramble and simply stares at you. you’d noticed he hadn’t even put up a fight when you’d pushed him back down onto his bed, but you were more worried about his well being rather than his behavior. but now you start to get a little bit worried at his lack of reaction, you place your hand on his chest softly, afraid to hurt him "wait just a sec, i'll go get a nur—"
"no." you let out a surprised sound when he grabs your hand. he stares straight into your eyes, and the bright red shine in them is such a huge contrast to them being closed for so long it almost knocks the wind out of you.
he vehemently shakes his head "i don't need none of that."
"katsuki, you need—"
"no i don't." he says stubbornly, you don't know if you're happy or not that he seems to be just as stubborn as before everything happened. it's a relief, sure, but it's starting to annoy you a bit. you want to fire back but he cuts you off "i don't need a nurse. need you." he mutters into your hand he had brung up to his lips to speak his last sentence against.
it’s only a light press of his lips against your skin but it sends chills down your spine. he does it again, red eyes fixed onto you to bring his point across. you suck in a harsh breath, then sigh in defeat.
"okay.." you sigh. "but we still have to get a nurse later." he grunts into your hand in begrudged agreement, "later." he mutters.
once he's gotten his feel of you, he slowly lifts his head up to look at you. he shuffles around in bed until he's sitting up a little straighter, waving you off when you sit up to help when he winces slightly.
he reaches for you and tugs at your arm lightly, as if he wanted you to sit closer to him. you happily oblige, scooting a little closer until you're leaning infront of him. he grumbles, obviously unhappy about something.
"come over here." he whines petutalanty.
you giggle at his childish demand "katsuki, no. you're very hurt and i don't wanna make you feel worse if i accidently push at something too hard. we can cuddle all you want when you get checked up." you explain. he’s obviously unhappy about that, rolling his eyes accompanied by a huff.
just like he usually would. you feel your eyes burn but your chest feels lighter and lighter the more you realize he’s here. your holding his hand and he’s holding it back, you’re looking at him and he at you.
it’s your katsuki.
“that’s bullshit, m’perfectly fine.” he scoffs.
you give him a once over, raising a brow for good measure “right.” you laugh when he scoffs again, but he can’t hide the smirk growing on his face at the sound.
it’s your katsuki, alright.
it’s quiet while you’re just indulging in each other’s company, the worry in your stomach gnawing at you every day he wouldn’t open his eyes these past few weeks finally washing away as you look at him lovingly when he closes his eyes and sighs against your skin.
“stop starin’.” he complains against your hand he still had in a tight grip, cheeks turning red. it seems like he doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon and doesn’t have any plans to as he bring it up to his mouth to bite you. you struggle and squeezes at his nose with a grin.
“hey, is it so bad to wanna look at my boyfriend that he’d been sleeping every day up until now ?” you make it sound like a joke, but your smile falters slightly and katsuki realizes. his eyes widen slightly.
"how..how long was i out for ?" his voice is still clouded with sleep even now. you plop back down onto your chair, dragged closer to him now “about three weeks.” you mutter, sad smile on your face and eyes downcast.
neither of you say anything for a moment and you’re quickly reminded of the quiet you’d gotten used to when he was still asleep. you don't like it and you want to fill the silence but you don't know what to say. katsuki doesn't respond and keeps looking at your expression, blinking slowly, like he does when he's trying to discern how you feel. he's annoyingly perceptive and you feel yourself get flustered by his gaze.
"now who's the one staring.." you mutter shyly, eyes drifting towards the floor to close him off of your mind with those all seeing eyes of his. you can tell he's seen through you, but it's worth a try anyway.
he reaches and tugs at your chair leg for you to scoot closer somehow. once, then twice harder when you don't make any move to listen to him. he grunts and you worry he'll hurt himself like he always end up doing when he’s not being careful, so you lean your face closer to him. you'd stare at him at all day like this if you could but your eyes won't look in his properly before they're shooting back towards the floor, katsuki huffs a breath of laughter onto your cheek.
"m'not allowed to look at my girlfriend after bein' passed the fuck out for three weeks ?" he smirks his eyes are soft even when he gruffs a mean laugh when he reaches up to pinch your nose back and you grumble at him, softly patting at his hand to shoo him away with a smile you try to hold back. he pokes at your cheek, you go to shoo and scold him but he surprises you by softly placing his hand against your cheek.
“was worried about you, you know.”
your eyes widen and your mouth drops open slightly at his sincerity. your heart warms and you can't stop the tears blurring your vision anymore. you clamp your mouth shut so as not to sob, but your bottom lip wobbles and katsuki huffs again.
"was thinkin 'bout you the whole time. hate that creepy ballsack head,” he grumbles bitterly “kept me from seein' my girl." he smiles when you let out a watery snort. you grab ahold of the hand on your face, running your thumb across the rough skin.
"i heard you really did a number on him."
"course i did. fuckin' decimated the fucker." he boasts and you laugh loudly. "made him cry like a baby. literally." he adds, you raise a brow in question but he simply shakes his again, as if telling you not to worry about it.
you don't question it and simply sigh against his hand happily, it feels nice to feel him again. "the others are gonna be happy to see you up. kiri's been coming to visit you every day. and i've forbidden izuku from getting out of bed, but he asks about you all the time."
katsuki scoffs, thumb slowling down in its movements "damn deku.. he better not think he's hot shit cus he woke up before me." you snort loudly at that, shaking your head at his childish antics.
"good he's not runnin' around. he'd probably end up breaking more of his bones by himself."
"that's what i said !" you giggle, and katsuki snorts. you missed hearing him. you missed him so much, you reach a hand up and wipe at your still wet eyes, katsuki grabs at that hand to wipe at your tears for you.
"was worried about you too, katsu." you sniffle "when i heard you got yourself hurt bad again i just—i got really scared.”
your boyfriend's eyebrows furrow sorrowfully and he wishes his body wasn't so weak so he could wrap you up in his arm and feel you close, never let you go. but his hand against your wet cheek will have to do for now.
but katsuki is a creature of habit, so he speaks "come over here." he whispers.
you lean in a small distance at first, not really sure of what he wanted you to do. katsuki grunts but when you get close enough he reaches for the back of your head and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.
and it's everything. soft yet his grip on you is firm, slow yet urgent when you grab the front of his hospital clothes and he huffs against you when he shoves his tongue into your mouth with a soft groan. eyebrows furrowing in focus to handle his breathing because he doesn't want to pull away.
not yet.
you're first to pull away but he doesn't let you go far, immediately swooping in for another kiss, this one just as- if not more urgent-than the first. you softly run your hands through his soft locks and try to memorize the feeling like you hadn't been touching it everyday for the past three weeks. it feels different now.
not yet.
finally, you pull away even after katsuki chases your lips with a pout. you giggle and tug at his hair and he huffs at you, and leans forward to bite at the tip of your nose.
"katsuki !" you squeal flying back to wipe at your nose.
“don’t katsuki me” he chuckles, cheeks dusted pink. from the lack of oxygen just a moment ago or from embarrassment you don’t know, “ ‘ts your own fault, dumbass.”
you scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him and he snickers again. you’d missed that sound. you’d missed his laugh, and his stupid nicknames and his voice, the way he says your name and his eyes and his smile.
“i missed you.” you breathe, smiling at him with what you know can only be called heart eyes. katsuki blinks at you, turning red to the tips of his ears. he looks away but reaches for your hand, you give it to him and he presses his lips to the back of your hand.
“missed you too. really did.” he mutters.
this is the most embarrassed you’ve seen him and the sincerest at the same time, you commit the image to memory as your stomach flutters and your heart beats for him. and his for you. you can feel it in the way his hand steadily gets warmer, the way he closes his eyes and breathes you. in the way he kisses each of your fingertips and finishes it off with a bite to each to make you laugh.
you both know a lot of things still need to happen but they can wait for now. for now, his heart is here, beating with yours. your katsuki is awake and back where he’s supposed to be.
#URGHHSN i lub my boyfriend#thank you for the ask anon i loved writing this !!#i hope you enjoy reading just as much ! <3#bakugo fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou fluff#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugou drabble#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x reader#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x you#i love my boyfriend
999 notes
·
View notes
Text
20 questions for fic writers
Thank you for the tag, @discordantwords!
1. How many works do you have on AO3? I have 10 as of now (7 for Sherlock and 3 for Harry Potter, though the HP fics were either begun or completed in 2012 (first posted on ff.net)... in other words, before I knew about JK's raging transphobia. I finally finished a HP WIP in 2020 that I had abandoned years ago, after my resulting disillusionment, because I decided that my work didn't deserve to be in vain. I'm so glad I did!
2. What's your total A03 word count? 168,333
3. What fandoms do you write for? On AO3, just BBC Sherlock and HP, though I have Smallville, Supernatural, and even a Gilmore Girls fic on my ff.net account (the earliest of them written in 2006) that I will NOT be linking here. 😂
4. What are your top five fics by kudos? (Since I've only been posting Sherlock fics on AO3 since September 2021, there's not a ton of variation between these):
The Waning of Withdrawal
Of Sweat, Sociopathy, Scars, and Secrets
Never Been Better
Pressure Points
Genius is a Star Whose Light (is Soon to Sink in Endless Night); I think I may change the title soon since it's so unwieldy)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! Mainly because I love when authors reply to mine - it acknowledges my gratitude and can open a line of communication. Plus, I just get so excited by every single comment notification that I need to squee and send hearts to the sender.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? None of my Sherlock fics have angsty endings, though that was my original goal for Never Been Better. It originally ended with Chapter 1, but I added two more chapters upon popular demand to fix things. :) It's a classic Sherlock-leaves-John's-wedding-early fic, so I'd intended to explore what may have happened within canon as sort of a missing scene/character exploration. Ultimately, however, I decided to throw a bone to poor Sherlock and disregard canon events.
However, my Harry Potter fic The Burn of the Phoenix, which I migrated to AO3 in 2020 after it's huge reception on ff.net back in 2012 (it's a 13k-word oneshot with 273 reviews and 951 favorites, though I'd definitely not write it the same way today), is definitely angsty. The end is hopeful, but ultimately... I killed Harry Potter. So. 😂 The ending, as it doesn't miraculously entail Harry coming back to life, can certainly be considered angsty as well. The entire fic is from Dudley's perspective as he learns of Harry's death (an alternate version of canon) and attends his funeral.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? As described above, all of my fics have happy endings! Though I'd say the one that's most unabashedly happy with minimal lingering pain and turmoil is Cold Inside. Genius comes close, but Sherlock is horrifically injured even despite happy news that comes in the last chapter so there's still an uphill battle ahead.
8. Do you get hate on fics? No, though I did get a very direct comment on The Waning of Withdrawal - the first time I ever wrote smut - that said the following (the "At all" was particularly harsh):
"I loved the fic and the way you formed everything with the comforting,and the understanding,the guilt and stuff and angst in the main part of the fic but I'm not a huge fan of how much detail went into their love part and stuff.. Not saying it's bad! I'm sure some people absolutely love it but I'm personally not a huge fan of the sex scene. At all."
(Luckily, two other commenters jumped in to my defense!) It seems innocuous enough, but I'd included an A/N that said it was my first time writing a love scene, despite it being brief, so "please go easy on me". The rating and tags were appropriate, too, so it seemed a bit out of the blue. That one little comment knocked my confidence for a while and made it impossible for me to re-read the fic without cringing.
9. Do you write smut? Just two of my Sherlock fics so far are rated E for smut. The Waning of Withdrawal, as described above, and Cold Inside, which has a lengthy sex scene in Chapter 4. It was so much harder than I thought to write - there's nothing quite like meticulously editing writing comprised of graphic depictions of anal sex, haha.
10. Do you write crossovers? No, nor do I usually enjoy them. I really admire the creativity, but tend to prefer fics that are plausible and in-canon; it's just a preference (with exceptions, of course!) That being said, crossovers that could happen between comparable universes - such as Sherlock and Hannibal - really appeal to me in theory.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I'd be so thrilled!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, nor do I have a beta. I'm sure it could improve my work, but I feel horrifically self conscious during any editing process that involves another person. It's something I need to work on!
14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Sherlock & John and Arthur & Merlin are pretty neck-in-neck. I don't have many Merlin bookmarks, as it was my prior obsession before Sherlock, but I've been delving more into the Merlin fandom lately. Writing for it just seems harder for me - accounting for historical accuracy (though the show isn't historically accurate at all, it's just an entirely different universe) and the bounds of Merlin's magic would be tricky. Maybe one day.
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? HAHAHAHAHA so... I did use to write more than one fic at once, waaaay back in the day, but have long since learned my lesson. I refuse to have true WIPs anymore - I only develop one idea at a time - and don't even publish a story until it's complete or almost complete (and fully outlined). Why? Well, there's one WIP I will NEVER finish. It's a Supernatural fic on ff.net with 6 chapters (out of a planned minimum of 10), first published in March of 2007 and last updated in February of 2008. Ooops.
It most recently received a review in 2015, which reads as follows: "WOW! ...update any time soon?...PLEASE...k"
Yeah. So. Never again for me.
16. What are your writing strengths? Based on the comments I receive, I think my strengths are characterization and dialogue. Oddly enough, these are two of my insecurities, but I think that my hyperfixation on both (knowing that I need to consciously work on them) has led to vast improvement.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? I often have a difficult time coming up with the initial premise, and am not nearly as creative as many of the writers out there I admire. Ideas usually come without me trying - such as late at night or in the shower - so I jot them down whenever that happens. That's all that seems to work for me. FTH was great in that it took a bit of the burden off and allowed me to elicit prompts from bidders instead.
I also struggle to weave incredibly complex stories. I don't think I'll ever be one of those writers who can write 100k-plus fics full of twists and turns. My plots tend to be more narrow, focused, and immediate.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? As cool as this is - and I may be able to do this with Spanish, as it was my university minor - I wouldn't want dialogue to read as clunky or unnatural to a native speaker or to impede the flow of the prose (I'd want to add translations when possible in parentheses so as not to discourage readers who are not bilingual, unless the dialogue is short and can be translated in an end note).
In Genius, I have excerpts here and there in Serbian, but I ultimately use English to express longer Serbian dialogue (between <brackets> rather than "quotation marks" to indicate the difference in language being spoken and with the acknowledgement that translations are never 1-1. For me, this also helped preserve Sherlock's personality and ensure it could shine through.
19. First fandom you wrote for? Smallville! Way back in 2006. It was terrible; I killed Clark in an alternate version of S5's Hidden. I'm not sure what used to be the appeal of character death to me. You'd never catch me writing it now.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written? It's hard to choose, but I have two answers for different reasons. The fic I'm most proud of writing is Genius. I worked SO, SO hard on the story outline, plot, and the symbolism and clues thrown in throughout. It's my longest and most complex story so far at 51K words, too.
The story I believe to be my best is Never Been Better; specifically, its first chapter. I don't think I've since written a more in-character version of Sherlock or a starker portrayal of his emotions.
I also have a huge soft spot for my Harry Potter fic The Truth at Last, which is the first fic I ever posted to AO3. It marks a huge improvement in my writing from when I first started it in 2012, as I was able to return to it in 2019/20 with a more mature perspective.
I'll tag anyone who hasn't yet been tagged and would like to join! (Sorry for the lack of creativity there - I'm always afraid I'll forget someone).
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers
ty @steddieasitgoes !! this was fun!!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
16!
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
26,316 (wtf)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
steddie / st only 😤
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
1. Tiny Green Shorts
2. Seasons change, but people don't.
3. extra credit
4. that's when boys kiss
5. pretty boy
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
YES! i luv comments! its one of the best parts of writing anything and makes it extra fun! its connecting with people!!
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
mmm i don't really like angsty endings. i guess Little Lamb has the most general angst but tbh that's not even gonna be a sad ending once its done - its gone have a lot of hope. maybe just high masking but again the connected part is comfort heavy
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
everything :) happy endings only in this house! 🍓 is maybe the most good vibes all the way thru piece
8. Do you get hate on fics?
its honestly a dream of mine to get cyber bullied one day, so no but if anyone wants to u can just this once
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
ya - mmmm mild d/s dynamics and graphic descriptions of bellies :)
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
no - sometimes i think about doing like film inspired steddie but idk if i'll ever get around to it (like school of rock au or dead poets society au)
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
no???
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
no! but that would be cool!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
no :) i think having to consider someone else's schedule when writing would be stressful - i am slow
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
steddieeeee 😤👌🫡💪
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
i'm working on a openly bi steve / queer eddie fic and it needs a lot of editing and keeps growing and it could honestly never get done but i really hope i work it out one day (i wanna incorporate music into the like theme of the scenes somehow but i dunno if i'm capable enough for it to be good - plus rewriting is hard bc what's there is good its just not right for this)
16. What are your writing strengths?
i like to think i can write my rancid sewer goblin dream boy eddie munson pov well
and maybe dialogue, or like metaphors?? i also have a thing about rhythm when i write so hopefully that come through, like pace and flow of sentences or whatever.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
i have like pictures in my head and i never know how much to describe, like do i go full setting and facial expressions but then that feels like too much so idk. but ye that - the stuff around the dialogue
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
i dumb baby i wouldn't even try bc it would just be google translate n that's embarrassing
19. First fandom you wrote for?
this one! i only lurked before hehe I've used ao3 for like over 10 years and this fandom was the first i ever wanted to make anything for
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
uhhh i think unmasking is very dear to my heart. but also Seasons change, but people don't. just bc its still my longest fic to date
that was fun! no pressure tags!! and sorry if you've already been tagged don't be mad a meeee!!!
@pearynice @numinosmoon @2btheanswertothequestion @flowercrowngods @aringofsalt @scarcrossdlvrs
#hotlunch#steddie#<3#ask game#i can't get the bi steve wip out of my head dude#but i just think about it#no new ideas at all
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
5, 6, 11, 12, 13, 18, 19, 22, 24 (if u make moodboards!), 25, 27
IM SORRY I PICKED SO MANY I JUST LIKE PICKING APART FELLOW WRITING BRAINS
sorry this took so long and is probably very uninteresting
5 - What's a fic idea you've had that you will never write - Hoooo boy, i am the queen of fic ideas I'll never write. Lots of angst and fluff. One that my brain has pretty detailed out lately is just an ABO-type AU where NaJeongMoSaHyo are all married to each other living life n stuff. I think it'd be cute, to follow them thru getting together, and then big life events. Ups and downs. Marriage and all that. Eventually they'd have kids, raise em all together. It'd be adorable and wholesome and very slice of life.
6 - Any fics from others you reread all the time? - Hell yeah there are
The First Snowfall by YOU when i want my feelings absolutely wrecked :(
Oh My God They Were Roommates & The Island of Misfit Toys by lildemonlili
This Night Is Sparkling, Dont Let You Go by amperis
To Serve Her by bbygirldahyun
Ready To Be Mine? by Sleephyuns/Ginnumeru
Definitely a few more i couldn't find/ cant remember.
(usual disclaimer because this is not an 18+ blog and im paranoid: please mind the rating on these, theyre all rated T, M, or E on AO3. Do not disrespect a writer by ignoring their rating or warning)
11- Do you have a specific playlist for writing fics? - I actually dont listen to music when i write. Music tends to distract me cuz my brain runs away with it... but i should try that, maybe
12 -Do you have a playlist for your current WIPs? - Nope.
13- How much planning do you do before writing? - Almost none, which is unfortunate for anyone who would like me to update anything in a timely manner. I know a vague direction i want something to go in, or I know certain scenes I want to happen later down the line. I kinda just write to connect a vague story or concept. i almost never have an ending in mind; thats kinda why i favor AUs... theyre stories from a universe, and I can keep sharing stories as I think of them. Unless its a oneshot, or a published fic... then i know the beginning and a vague ending. Coven AU has a ton of lore because I drank a lot of coffee one day and had a notepad. Most lore for any au i have just relies on me going 'oh thats a GOOD idea ill remember that'.... reader, i have severe ADHD that i do not manage in any way. I dont remember that.
18 - What's one of your favorite lines you've written in a fic? - Oh boy. Probably none of them, i dont love my like... writing style? It isn't pretty, just plain. So i suppose its only, ' “You woke me up. And you’re making my bed smell like tequila. Why would I move over for you?” She mumbled, moving over. ' from roommates AU. Because Dubchaeng loves each other.
19 - Small teaser from a WIP - Ok i was gonna be mean and give you one for a very far in the future very angsty roommates fill but i WONT thatd be mean. heres coven au
Jihyo lifted her arms to throw another bolt of electricity, one to end the fight before either of them got hurt. The familiar smell of ozone stung her nose before Tzuyu’s hand landed on her arm, snapping her out of her concentration.
“Don’t. They stopped.”
“Tzuyu, they tried to barbecue us.”
“You tried to hit them first.”
Jihyo grabbed for her as she took a determined step forward, calling out in what must have been the same language they were speaking.
Ever the diplomat, Jihyo thought. Forever offering the olive branch and trying to get herself killed.
She remained ready to summon another strike.
22 - Do you know how your fic will end before you write it - Not usually. Im very bad at endings. If its a fill for an AU i just write until it feels correct to stop/I run out of ideas. The overall AUs i have no clue how theyd end, maybe a vague direction for some. I do know how my one fic is going to end though, if i ever finish it (i 99% will not im so sorry)
24 - share a moodboard from a WIP - I dont do moodboards but that's another good idea i should try
25 - Have you ever made yourself upset with your own writing - Yea, in that I dont like it and get frustrated when my fingers wont just type shit. I dont think ive written anything too sad.
27 - is there a fic you were nervous to post? - I was nervous to share baby SMC au. I thought it was a cute concept but didnt know if anyone else would. Or if they'd find it weird i made SMC so young.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
a/n: literally just realized i’ve been spitting out fanfics/blurbs for the past year and a half and you guys haven’t really gotten to know me… so here we go!
~
hello! i am the writer of this blog! you can call me ro (she/her). i’m bisexual!I love 5SOS (Ashton girls RISE), Big Time Rush (where my Kendall girls at), and musical theater (specifically for Mike Faist but we’re not gonna talk about it). I love Formula One too, hence my username.
i’d love to talk to you guys so send me a question/hello in the ask link!
requests are still open if you’d like a specific fic idea!
also, i found this from @nottheweirdest, and thought I would give it a go! i modified some questions to fit my blog hehe
~
Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask
😅 What’s a story or scene you’ve created that you’re embarrassed exists?
literally EVERYTHING. most def my pete davidson after a fight blurb tho. pretty cringe.
🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put a smile on your face?
when person a is obviously very sad/depressed for no reason at all and person b just does a bunch of random shit just to see person a smile. and when they do person b is so elated that they’re running around/talking to the dog about how they got person a to smile like person a just said yes to their marriage proposal
Or when person a is depressed/sad and person b does a bunch of soft things just to see person a relax for a split second. (bear hugs, remembering the small things, carrying them bridal style to their bedroom)
brb gonna go cry.
🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?
omg in my bo burnham blurb where the reader says “i think the gods are telling us to stop being so lovey-dovey”... stOP pLEasE whAT are you doINGGGG
😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?
not yet… but there will be *cough ashton irwin* cough*
✍🏼 Do you have a beta reader?
nope! all me :)
🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feelings, etc.
probably angst
🎢Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?
def. done w/ ashton irwin..still working on part 2 but oof
✨Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it.
tbh i love my poly!5sos stuff. it’s so super fun to write
💋First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?
neither, really. they just sort of annoy me lol
🎶Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?
nope!I work in complete silence at 3 in the morning
🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?
google docs on my school chromebook 😬😬 god help me.
❗️Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?
SO MANY. probably have thrown away at least 30 or so
🙋🏽♀️Do any irl people know you write fanfic?
2 of my friends and my sister
🍦What’s the sweetest fic you’ve created so far?
tbh i’m a pretty angsty gowrl… maybe “insomnia” w niall?
🌶Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what’s your most popular nsfw fic?
i have tried. so. many. times. I cringe whenever I write anything smexy.
🌞Do you have a preferred time of day to write?
i really only write from 12-3 a.m. (ik i need help)... I’m a night owl so it’s perfect.
💖What made you start writing?
i had the idea to start writing for a while, then my sister and I talked about it and I made an account and the rest is history.
💌How do you feel about comments and feedback?
feedback is always appreciated as long as you are nice and kind about it! I’m not the best writer; I can always improve!
❌What’s a trope you will never write?
not really a trope but, degradation in the bedroom… i just don’t understand
💲Would you ever open commissions?
probably not
🧐Do you spend much time researching your stories?
eh not really, about 5-10 min max.
🏆What’s your most popular fic?
Andrew Garfield boyfriend headcanons. (honestly, headcanons/ blurbs are so fun to write)
🎃Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?
I currently don’t have any holiday themed ones, but I’m down to write them if they’re requested
📈How many fics do you have?
21 and counting!
🦅Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?
normally it starts out with 2-3 sentences of dialogue, then I piece together the background, then add in details and voila.
👀Tell me about an up and coming wip please!
OKAY “done” W ASHY BOY… I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR THIS FIC. I’M DECIDING OR NOT IF I SHOULD CRY HAPPY OR SAD TEARS
🤗What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?
personally, I don’t like having a schedule/ specific day to post, but that’s just me. i know most people have a routine, but do what you want! haven’t written in four months? that’s okay! been writing nonstop for two weeks? also wonderful!
write whatever makes you fall in love with writing again! whether it be a super sappy/cringey trop that makes your knees buckle, do it! :)
💞Who’s your comfort character?
Fred Weasley 1,000%.
🤩Who is your favorite character/person to write?
ASHY BOIIIIIIIIIIII. god i love ashton irwin. His demeanor, poise, confidence, ugh I want it all.
🤲🏼Would you please share a snippet of a wip?
Little background… poly!lashton w/female reader who’s having a depressive episode:
“Hey. Hey, what’s goin on? Is everything all right?” Ash asked, very worried.
You rolled over to Luke as a response, your face near his hips. You felt his hand in your hair, playing with it. Ashton climbed into bed and started to draw shapes on your back.
“C’mon angel. Talk to us. You’ll feel better.” Luke said as he patted your head.
“You can’t stay up there alone, Y/N. Think out loud.”
so excited to share this one… just can’t figure out the ending
😬Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends or family to stumble upon?
anything poly!5sos. Anything poly in general… i mean it’s not a “traditional” relationship, but a part of me still loves it for some reason
🎉What leads you to consider a fic a success?
def a combination of how proud I am with it, and how much you guys interact with it
✅What’s something that appears in your fics over and over again, even if you don’t mean to?
i always end angsty fics with an “i love you”... whoops
📚Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?
maybe as a side hustle!
⌛️How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?
3-5 business days. On a serious note, 2-3 weeks. Maybe 2 hours. It really depends on who I’m writing
🤯What’s a genre you struggle with as a writer?
SMUT OH DEAR LORD. I CAN’T WRITE IT TO SAVE MY LIFE. i’m trying it out on some new ones tho!! I never have a problem reading it though
💔Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?
not yet, but soon 👀
💥How do you feel about criticism?
again, as long as you are nice and kind about it!!
🤭Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?
i don’t have a fav, but I always seem to go with writing? seems appropriate lol
🥰How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?
YES!!!! I love interacting w you guys!
#harry styles#austin butler#5sos fanfic#fanfiction#writing#mikefaist#mike faist imagine#ashtonirwinfanfiction#5sos ashton#ashton irwin fanfic#ashton 5sos#luke hemmings x y/n#luke hemmings x calum hood#luke hemming imagines#5sos angst#5sosfam#5sos blurbs#micheal 5sos#5 seconds of summer#fine line harry styles#harry styles angst#harry’s house#andrew garfield spiderman#andrew garfield#big time rush#kendall schmidt#kendall knight#james maslow#carlos penavega
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
Congrats @ 1000 followers!!!!
Question for your event: what's your top 5 fics you've made in the past? I think some people find their older works to be cringe, but I find looking back at what I've made in the past to be endearing. Like,, look how far you've come or maybe it's interesting to see what trends carry out through out all your works
Ty duder!! :-D
Hmbbb that’s a hard question. I do like rereading my old works, but there’s definitely a level of improvement I’ve gained that means I nitpick old stuff or don’t like my voice or pacing as much as I used to. Which happens with anything really but means sometimes I can’t enjoy the full piece. I also haven’t reread a lot of my old works recently so my vibes on how I feel about them are outdated.
If we’re talking about works older than a year, here a few I rmr still having a fondness for. They aren’t in any particular order though and I feel good gennnnerally about most of my stuff, but esp haven’t reread a lot of DC ones in awhile:
The in betweens (Bill n Ted) I rmr trying to do no scene breaks for this one, kind of like a lineless style but for writing, and I think I did that well in the end! Also always a sucker for domesticity and it feels very alive and dynamic and content in itself which is really nice
Contact (Lost Boys 1987) It’s a good short piece and while it feels kind of OOC for how I’d handle TLB these days, I think the intimacy and the inclusion of everyone in such a short word count is p well done and I like the texture of it a lot
Grounding Rod (Legion of Supes 2006) Iirc I have more issues with the prose of this one than most others, but the ideas I got out within it and the fact that it’s currently my only Legion fic endear it to me and I’d be interested to do More with some of what I outlined here
I’ll be there for you (Batman Beyond) THISSS was I think my first fic even close to this kind of length and I rmr it was written when I still had full on fic requests open in my inbox. It was meant to be so much shorter but it grew and it’s also like? Genuinely still pretty solid to me? Was a banger way to hit off my beyond phase and was one of the first times I’d done kind of a drawn out plot
Asynchronous (Bill n Ted) My very first Bill and Ted fic, and while it was still in an era of my writing I don’t like as muchhhh with like… kind of overly physical angsty or injury focused scenarios, I think it’s still pretty solid. It explores an alternate idea of what could happen in bogus journey and of if a do not separate set was separated, and even though it’s kind of gross and bleak being Bill and Ted adds a humor to it I think really works and also made me snicker a bit while reading
When it comes to trends I definitely know I use similar descriptions a lot esp when it comes to emotions and breakdowns as I was often pulling off my own experience. In my earlier writing especially my DC stuff like I mentioned above I was also very into harder angst? I’m not as into gore or injury for the sake of it anymore but a lot of my works starting out were very Sad for Sad sake and while they def still explored characters I’m glad I feel I have a wider range of focus now?
I do feel that, looking back, I’ve lost a level of natural-ness to a lot of my stuff. My older works feel looser and less stiff, and I’ve recently found myself in a place of having a difficult time writing regular interaction scenes. I dont know if I’m burnt out or if I’m just overly critical now, but I do wish I had some of that more pliant quality some of my older stuff has. I miss it!
That’s an interesting piece of looking back though and also why I have a no delete policy nowadays on stuff. Seeing where I’ve been and what’s changed and stayed the same is rly fascinating to me :-)
Ty for the Q! (And I’ll b trying to answer the others I’ve gotten from some diff peeps as well!)
1000 follower celebration
1 note
·
View note
Text
Wrapped 2022
Thank you @gryffindorhealer for the tag! Finally getting around to this, only a week into the new year and several days after the tag, lol
Post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)
Comfortable - I feel like this was probably my most cohesive fic and I just really love the soft, warm vibes
Everything - born out of a frustration after reading a whole slew of angsty fics where Harry and Ginny dance around each other after the Battle, this one was satisfying to write because I finally got all my feelings about two fictional characters' intimate relationship worked out.
Softer - Short 'n' Sweet, a real life conversation between myself and the hubs turned fanfic for all the other mothers out there struggling with that weird not-hating-your-body-but-it-not-feeling-comfortable-anymore feeling
Weasley Pub Nights - I laughed out loud way too much writing this one
Cat and Mouse - I know the ending fell flat, but this was the fic I was finally brave enough to start sharing my writing with the world. It will always be special.
Your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year
A Rose in Winter - an Edwardian AU based on a novel of the same name. No horcruxes, Voldemort dies and the Death Eaters spend the next seventeen years licking their wounds before starting up their campaign again. The Weasleys are on the brink of total poverty after several horrible events and their ever expanding family. They decide to offer up Ginny for marriage to help ease the financial burden (I promise this isn't a Weasley-bashing fic!). Ginny's hand is awarded to Lord Potter, the recently returned to the country young Lord who hides behind a mask to cover all the scars left behind when Voldemort tried murder him. Predictably, Ginny is pissed, drama ensues.
Taken - Voldemort never created horcruxes and dies that Halloween, but that doesn't mean his Death Eaters disappeared too - they simply changed tactics and took over the Ministry through calculated political maneuvers (I'm sensing a theme, lol). The Order of the Phoenix works underground to rescue and educate Muggleborns and occasionally throw a kink in the new regime's plans. When pureblood women from notorious Blood-Traitor families start disappearing, the Order scrambles to infiltrate the Death Eaters and figure out what is happening to these young women.
Fade In/Fade Out - based on the song of the same name by Nothing More, a collection of Father/Son moments between Ron and Arthur
Their Most Closely Guarded Secret - I'm not actually sure I'll share this one. It deals with themes that are pretty controversial and frankly I felt icky writing it, BUT it pushed me out of my comfort zone and I think my writing is better for it.
Your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year
Simply sharing it. I've written stories (both original and fanfic) for nearly two decades now, but only now have felt brave enough to share my work. If that isn't the biggest improvement, I don't know what is.
More details. My early writing reads very much like a bare bones movie script, very dialogue heavy and not much in way of scene setting. No ambiance at all
Uh....actually creating an outline. Not that I use them, but hey, I made them!
Your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year
Run on Sentences. Apparently, I ramble a lot and it shows in my writing.
Better planning/outlining. My current outlines are pretty useless, hence why they don't get used, haha
And your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year
The (two) lines that spurred me to actually start sharing my stuff:
For now, he fucks her in the room of nightmares where no one ever will know.
And she lets him because she isn’t in love with him, but dammit if she isn’t attracted to him.
Thanks for reading :)
1 note
·
View note
Text
No Time Like The Present - Daniel Ricciardo - Part 1/2
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x female!reader
Warnings: some fluff, a little angsty at times, lots of pining, no smut (yet ;) - keep an eye out for Pt. 2 for all that good stuff)
Summary: Friends to lovers, you know how it izzz, also renault Dan for no other reason than he really does it for me yk
Words: 2.6K
Author’s note: This is my first ever fic so please bare with me as i’m still figuring out what style/POV I enjoy the most! English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes/typos in here please let me know!
Y/N/N = your nickname
Feedback very much appreciated, Enjoy :))
Extra’s:
Song recs -> Dead of Night by Orville Peck// Eventually by Tame impala// Treat You Better by Rüfüs du sol // Meet Me in the Hallway by Harry Styles
Some posts that *inspired* me -> Renault Dan 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, Dan’s outfit is the one from this video, this Euphoria scene
Sunday October 11th 2020, Nürburgring, Germany
As soon as the hotel door clicked shut behind you, a sigh of relief forced its way out of your mouth. Your feet were screaming at you to drop all your belongings on the floor and flop down on the bed to give them some relief, so you did exactly that. After the long trip here, jetlag doing its worst on you, and a full day of walking around the track and paddock, saying you were tired was an understatement. Still, you found yourself deep in thought as you lay on your back staring at the ceiling. The words Daniel spoke to you after the podium celebrations were still ringing in your ears, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get them out of your head.
“Looks like you’re my lucky charm, Y/N/N, you should just travel with me year-round. We’d make quite the team you and I.”
It was a joke, ofcourse, if the tone of his voice didn’t give that away then the playful pat on your shoulder sure did the trick. If only he knew you would do it in a heartbeat.
Daniel and you had been friends since you were kids. Your older brother and him went to school together and were basically attached by the hip, which meant your families spent a lot of time together. As you got older, you and Daniel developed a friendship that went beyond just ‘his mates younger sister’. You would tag along on whatever adventure Daniel had in mind for your friend group; whether it was a hike (that was way too much for the converses you were all wearing and the grand total of one water bottle Daniel had thought to bring), long bike rides down the beach or a party that we just HAD to attend on the other side of town. On numerous occasions you had called him to come pick you up from a party after having too much to drink, and he would let you stay over at his house and not tell your parents about it.
“I really need to teach you and your brother how to handle your liquor better, Y/N/N.” He’d laughed when tucking you into bed, and you remember thinking it was your favorite sound in the whole world.
When he had moved to Europe to pursue Formula 1 you knew it would be hard to keep the friendship going, but you had managed surprisingly well over the years. You often accompanied your brother when he planned a trip to go see Daniel, and ofcourse you saw him over the winter breaks. Still, no matter how long he stayed, it always felt like too little time, always felt like too little words spoken and laughs shared between the two of you.
When Daniel had invited you and your brother to come see him at the Eifel GP you were elated, with online classes you were able to put uni on the backburner for a few weeks to take this trip. Unfortunately, your brother wasn’t able to take time off work to come, but you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to see Daniel again. It had been months since you had seen him, and you missed him more than you would ever admit to him or your brother…or yourself for that matter.
You often found yourself question the true nature of your feelings for Daniel, there was just something about the two of you together that felt right, like that was where you were destined to be; right next to each other. Pursuing this feeling hadn’t worked out, either he was leaving soon or one of you was dating someone else. Even if the timing was right, taking the first step terrified you, not just because of the fear of rejection, but you didn’t want to risk losing him as a friend. You would do anything to keep him in your life, even if it meant never acting on this “what if” sensation that clouded your mind whenever you were around him.
A knock on your door diverted you from your thoughts, and your feet tingled in protest when you got up to open it. It was no surprise to see Daniel standing at the other side of the door, being that he was pretty much to only person you knew here. Still, the sight of him knocked to wind out of you. He was still wearing the Pirelli hat, or at least he had put it back on right before this, the golden embroidered 3rd place on both sides standing out under the dim lighting of the hotel hallway. His champagne-soaked race gear had made way for another Daniel Ricciardo classic, some jeans paired with an oversized hoodie and a pair of vans.
“Fancy going for a nightcap with a top 3 finisher?” He smirked while pointing at the hat, like without it you would have forgotten he was on the podium today.
“Hmm, I’ll have to think about that, maybe the race winner is available? Do you have Lewis’ number by any chance?” you retorted while leaning casually against the doorframe.
The smug expression on his face quickly made way for a look of feigned shock.
“Very funny, Y/N/N, I taught you well, huh? Listen, those pink bunny socks are just adorable, but please put your shoes back on and follow me, I know a place you’ll like.”
He talked like he was already sure you would agree to go. It almost made you want to put up some sort of protest to the invitation…almost.
//
The ride there was quiet, not an awkward silence, more like you were enjoying just being close to one another without the need for pointless small talk. You had barely even registered that the car had stopped when Daniel suddenly piped up.
“So, what do you think?” he said proudly, like a toddler that had just finished a drawing and was waiting for the incoming praise from his parents.
When you looked up, it took everything in you not to laugh out loud. The bar you had pulled up to looked straight out of the movies. A small run-down building that looked like it hadn’t been renovated in approximately 30 years, adorned with a giant sign that said “JOEs BAR & GRILL” and next to it, a blinking neon light with the words “BEER AND MUSIC”. The whole place just screamed Daniel.
“What IS this place?” you laughed.
“Hey now, don’t judge a book by its cover, this is one of the best bars in Germany, just trust me Y/N.” He looked straight into your eyes as he said it, and you realized you did trust him. You wondered if he knew you would follow him anywhere he asked you too. Actually, you wondered if YOU even knew before this very moment.
Once inside, the two of you sat down at the bar while Daniel ordered some drinks. You had to admit you felt kind of bad about poking fun at Daniels choice of establishment. The atmosphere was fun and vibrant, and that alone was enough of a reason for Daniel to appreciate this place. Looking at him chatting with the bartender who was congratulating him on his podium, he fit right in. It was one of the qualities you envied the most in him, he was the life and soul of every party and only ever stood out in a good way. People gravitated towards him, just like you did. It was also the thing that made him impossible to forget, like once you’d had him in your life it would never feel the same without him.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop. I’m getting a headache just looking at you”, he smiled while handing you your drink.
“Hey, I’m tired you know, it isn’t easy following an F1 driver around all day. I don’t know how Michael does it to be honest” you smirked as you sipped your drink with feigned confidence.
“Well, maybe the two of you can work something out, hand me over every other week, like co-parenting you know? I’m sure Renault has some sort of job offer that could give you a year-round all access Danny Ric deal” he winked as he said it, and although it was just another silly joke, you silently wished he would stop making them. You would drop everything in your life if it meant you could be with him more, no questions asked. Daniel picked up on your silence and decided to change the subject entirely.
“Do you remember when you cut your hand while we went rock climbing that one summer?”
The question caught you off guard, and instinctively you raised the palm of your left hand and stared at the small scar that ran from your pointer finger down to your thumb.
Before you even had time to verbally respond, he set down his drink to softly grab your hand and trace the scar with the very top of his fingers. No matter how innocent it might seem, the gesture suddenly felt too intimate. The way his fingers ghosted over your skin made goosebumps arise all over your skin. This made you pull your hand back towards you so it fell out of his grasp. When you looked up at Daniel, he was already staring back at you. His soft smile had dissipated and made way for a more serious expression that you weren’t used to seeing on him. He looked somewhat confused or maybe…disappointed? However, he quickly regained his composure and spoke up again.
“As soon as you saw the first drop of blood you fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
“Hey!” you laughed as you gave him a small punch in the arm, it was a stark contrast to the gentle contact you had shared just a few seconds earlier. This was right back to the friendly, platonic atmosphere that you knew so well. Even though it was where you felt most comfortable, there was something about this night that felt different. Deep inside, you felt a need to get away from this familiar place of “childhood buddies”, and venture into unknown territory.
“Wanna dance?”
Your mouth had seemingly made the decision before your brain did, because the question surprised yourself just as much as it did Daniel.
“You know what, I know just the song for that”. Daniel jumped from his seat and walked over to the old jukebox and quickly pressed a few buttons.
After a few seconds, the unmistakable tune of Ain’t no mountain high enough started booming through the speakers. Unbelievable, you thought, this man is just full of surprises.
He held out his hand expectantly and you took it without hesitation. The dance floor, if you could even call it that, was a small little corner that luckily kept you mostly out of view from the other bar-goers.
Remember the day I set you free
I told you, you could always count on me, darling
And from that day on I made a vow
I'll be there when you want me some way, some how
Daniel spun you around perfectly in time with the tune of the song. You’d seen him dance probably a thousand times; in clubs, during house parties, when a good song came on while in line for a coffee, but never like this. Normally, his jokester persona was priority number one and he would move his hips in the silliest way possible. Tonight however, he was more serious, constantly searching for your eyes when you spun back to face him. You raised your eyebrows in feigned surprise and laughed.
“you’re actually a decent dancer too huh? Man, is there anything you can’t do??”
He smiled back, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, like he was somehow disappointed with your response. He let go of your hand and stepped closer while keeping his eyes trained on yours. For a second you thought he was going to say something, but instead he put his hands on your waist. You were frozen for a moment, but before your brain had even registered what was happening, you put your arms around his neck. You were right when you felt like tonight was different. The same, but different. You and Daniel, together, but different.
Oh no darling,
No wind, no rain
No winters cold can stop me baby
No, no baby,
'Cause you are my love
If you ever in trouble, I'll be there on the double
Just send for me, oh baby
As you swayed together, it felt somewhat unnatural, not only because the song didn’t really fit a slow dance, but even more so because there was only silence between the two of you when it was clear that something had to be addressed.
That the two of you had never danced like this.
That friends don’t dance like this.
That you don’t want to be his friend.
That you want more.
Your hands that were intertwined at the back of Daniels neck released, one of your thumbs now grazing over the side of his neck, slowly ascending to his face, his cheekbones, his lips. Then, it happened, you grabbed his face with both hands on his cheeks and brought your lips to his.
He reacted immediately, the hands that were softly placed on your waist were now gripping your shirt and pulling you even closer while your lips worked together. All the daydreams in the world couldn’t have prepared you for the real thing. You were kissing Daniel. Daniel was kissing you back. You have no idea how long you were intertwined like that, but sooner than you would have hoped you had to pull apart to take a breath. When you recoiled, suddenly you became aware of your surroundings again, as if you had been under water, completely cut off from the outside world. The music suddenly seemed to loud, the bar too busy. Right, the bar, Daniel favorite bar, where he’s been numerous times. Where he’s been with his other friends. Where he’s met other girls to dazzle and probably take home with him. Were you like them? Just a viable option? Convenient? Would he still consider you a friend if you took this any further? When you finally got yourself to look at Daniel, he seemed confused and somewhat shocked at your expression. How had you gone from kissing him with such conviction to seemingly spiraling in your thoughts in just a few minutes?
“Oh god…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-…I…I don’t know what came over me” you say as you promptly turn around and start walking away from him and towards the exit.
Daniel stayed frozen where he was for a few seconds before chasing after you in a slight jog. You had already made it outside, with no idea of where you thought you were going since Daniel drove you here, but you just felt like putting as much distance between you and him as possible, even if it meant walking back to the hotel. Before you got the chance to try, Daniel caught up and grabbed your wrist so he could turn you around to face him once more.
“Hey, Hey…look at me, what was that??” He asked while keeping his hold on your wrist as not to risk you running away from him again.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to lose you, I shouldn’t have done that, Daniel, I shouldn’t have acted like this..I-“
“Like what? Acted like what? Y/N, please, why are you panicking like this suddenly? We were just-“
“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified”
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo fanfiction#formula 1 RPF#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#daniel ricciardo one-shot#daniel ricciardo x reader#x reader#daniel ricciardo imagine
311 notes
·
View notes
Text
pairing: jungkook x (gender neutral) reader / word count: 20k / genre: fluff (author!reader, florist!jungkook)
summary: “You’re in love and you didn’t tell me?” Jimin sounds affronted. “Who is it? Are they cute? Where are you hiding them? I knew you were lying about those flowers, you lying liar.”
or: the story of how you meet a pretty florist with soft hands and warm eyes, how he mends your broken heart, and how he helps you realise some other things along the way.
warnings: use of a few curse words, reader is self-deprecating and suffering from heartache towards the beginning (v mildly angsty ig? but dw it passes), but otherwise this is a Very Soft fic!
--
“It’s time to get up.”
“It absolutely is not.” Your voice is muffled under a layer of pillows and blankets, material pressing down on your body and head, covering you. A protective cocoon. “I’ve become one with my duvet and we shall never be parted.”
You yelp when the blanket is ruthlessly ripped from you. Your curtains have been thrown open and you can feel how the sun is streaming in through your windows, warming your skin, even if you can’t see it; there’s a particularly fluffy pillow smothering your face right now to keep the world outside at bay.
“This has to be against the Geneva convention,” you whine as your collection of pillows is similarly stripped from the bed, leaving you entirely bereft from their comfort and protection. You curl into a tight ball around your Pusheen cushion and try to protect her from Jimin’s grasping fingers— your final bastion of defence against him. “No! Not Pusheen! Please! Take me instead!”
Jimin rolls his eyes before stealing Pusheen right from your arms, ignoring your dramatic sob as she’s pulled from your desperate hands. He tucks the plush grey cat under his arm before fixing you with a stern gaze. “I said it’s time to get up,” he repeats, ignoring the chaos of pillows and blankets and toys now littered around him. “You know the drill, Y/n.”
You suck in a deep breath, filling your lungs with air before letting out a long, weary sigh. All your theatrics disappear with your escaping breath, strength seeping out of you. “A week of wallowing,” you say in a small voice, eyes squeezing shut. “I know.”
You don’t have to look up at Jimin to know what expression is on his face right now. You feel the mattress dip and then soft fingers are gently stroking the hair out of your face. “A week and then we get up.” His voice is soft as he repeats the mantra.
Your cheek drags across the cotton of your sheets as you open your eyes and turn your head into the hand that Jimin’s still drawing down your face. “You’ve always been better at getting back on your feet than me,” you say, and Jimin affectionately pats your cheek.
“You’re being melodramatic,” he says kindly. “You’ve seen me at my worst and you know that’s not true. I’m only good at getting back on my feet because I have you to lift me up, and I’m here for you too.”
“Can I have Pusheen back?” You sound hopeful as you pout at him, pushing your bottom lip out.
“You can have her back once you’ve showered and had breakfast,” Jimin says.
Your limbs are leaden weights as you drag yourself out of bed. The cold water of your shower shocks some life back into them, and you’re almost back to your regular self once you pull yourself from the bathroom, thoroughly scrubbed and refreshed. Jimin greets you with a fruit smoothie bowl, the most wholesome meal you’ve had in the past week; it’s infinitely healthier than the ice cream and snacks and junk food you’ve been shovelling into your mouth.
“I didn’t realise I had half this stuff in the fridge.” You use your spoon to swirl the oats and fruit into the yoghurt, muddying the pretty rippled effect Jimin had created with it. “I’m guessing you brought it with you?”
Jimin is eating eagerly from his own bowl and swallows down a spoonful of banana and berries before he responds. “No, it was already in there, actually,” he says.
“Oh, yeah.” Your free hand goes down to Pusheen, who’s safely in your lap, and you dig your fingers into her soft velvet skin. “Of course.”
Your face is twisted into a wince as you look down and continue to knead the cushion on your knees. Seokjin loves fresh produce, taking you to the farmer’s market for organic strawberries and blueberries and raspberries, lifting them up for you to breathe in their bright scent before laughing at how you go cross eyed at how close he brings them to your face. Your fridge must still be full of these reminders of him, food you’d bought for him, things he’d made for you.
“Well!” Jimin’s voice is loud and bright, cutting through your thoughts with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. “You better finish up— we’re going out soon and you’ll need all the energy for today!”
You’re immediately on guard, eyes narrowing at him. “Going out where?”
“Shopping, duh,” he says, raising his eyebrows at you. “You said you’d come with me and Namjoon to pick out stuff for our new apartment, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” It’s only been a week and it’s like you’ve forgotten that the world is still moving on around you, taking no notice of how your own world has been upheaved and irreparably fragmented. You know Jimin is being cheery and upbeat in an attempt to distract you from this, and it’s working, but it’s also highlighting exactly how much you’ve been wallowing. You normally never would have forgotten. “Alright, let me finish up and get my shit together and then we can go.”
Getting your shit together takes longer than it should. You have to wade through the piles of blankets on the floor to get to your wardrobe, and the desk in your office is in similar disarray, notes and stationery strewn across its surface from your week long stint of wallowing and writing about said wallowing.
You’d never planned on the romance in a novel about magic in the modern world to be so depressing, but hey. They always say write what you know and all you know right now is heartbreak.
(“I’m sorry. I just… don’t feel the same.” Jaerim’s voice is soft and gentle, even now, even as he’s breaking Lily’s heart, so tender as it falls apart in his hands. “You’ll always be my best friend, Lily, but nothing more.”
Lily’s smile is pained. “I know,” she says, her own voice small and weak. “I know. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I— I had to tell you or I felt like it was going to burst out of me. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll always love you, Lily.” Jaerim sounds sorrowful. “But not the way you want.”
Why had she ever expected anything different?)
You’ve been feeding all of your sadness and heartbreak into your most recent heroine, using your latest novel as a way of catharsis, but the problem is that your stories always have happy endings. Right now Lily may be heartbroken after a failed confession, but at the end of the story she’s going to be happy. You, however, will still be sad and lonely once the book is finished and for all that you project your hopes and wishes onto your main characters, you know your own story will never go so smoothly— real life is never as neat as that.
You pause when you catch sight of one of the Polaroids scattered on your keyboard. Seokjin’s beautiful skin is washed out and there's a glint of red in his eyes from the bright flash of your camera; it's a terrible photo and the focus is all wrong, but he still looks radiant as he smiles at you, ever beautiful.
The heroes you write are soft and kind and lovely; fierce and strong and admirable; talented and smart and impressive. You, however, are clownish and sarcastic and nonsensical. Just an absolute mess of rough edges and endlessly tangled thoughts. Unwanted. Undesirable. Unlovable.
(No wonder Jin— bright, brilliant, beautiful Jin— doesn’t love you back.)
You swallow and steel yourself before opening the top drawer of your desk to sweep all the littered bits and pieces of your life into it before slamming it shut, trying to ignore how metaphorically fitting it is, and then grab what you came here for in the first place: your camera. You loop the strap of the Polaroid around your neck so that you’re ready for the day ahead.
You know that Jimin thinks you should just stick to using your phone, considering the piles of film you get through, but there’s something about the whole instant photo process that just works for you. Maybe it’s just a writer/artist thing. Maybe it’s just a you thing. Either way, you like to take your camera everywhere so that you can take photos of things that inspire you and incorporate them into scenes of your stories.
(You have so many photos of Seokjin, and he’s reflected in so many parts of your books— from the jokes that characters tell, to things they eat, to hobbies they have. You may not have ever been so transparent as to project him directly onto the love interests of your main characters before now, but he’s ever present in other ways. There's a part of him in every thing you’ve ever written, even before you fell for him.)
(Your love for him must have been obvious from the start, and yet he’d never mentioned it at all.)
(What made you think it would be a good idea to confess?)
“Y/n?”
You look up from where you’ve been staring at the same bowl for the past three minutes, the leaf pattern stamped into its edge blurring together into eyes that are staring back at you. “Huh? Yeah? What?”
Over Jimin’s shoulder you can see Namjoon trailing around the small store, staring at some pretty wall-hangings with appreciative eyes. For all that Jimin had claimed to be concerned about his boyfriend’s taste in decor, they’ve asked for very little input from you, so you’ve been left alone to zone out for most of the morning and afternoon.
“I was saying Joonie has a suit fitting he needs to get to, so we were going to get that done before lunch,” Jimin says. “You’re welcome to come along as well if you want?”
“So I can watch someone ask your boyfriend which side his penis hangs down so they can tailor his slacks accordingly? I think I’m good.”
You sound almost like your usual self which is why you think Jimin lets this pass without comment— you’re very happy being independent but it’s true that you’re somewhat more delicate than usual so you understand Jimin’s worry.
“I’ll drop you a message when we’re done.” Jimin smiles at you. Behind him, Namjoon picks up a large ceramic crab, only to immediately drop it onto an incredibly fluffy shag carpet— which fortunately saves it from breaking. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Eh, take your time.” You keep hold of Jimin’s attention as Namjoon sheepishly attempts to pick up the crab, only to immediately drop it back onto the rug. “I haven’t been out for a while so I could do with a walk in the fresh air and sunshine. I’m sort of like a dog. Or a plant, I guess. Just with slightly more complex emotions.”
Namjoon has just put the crab back into place by the time Jimin turns around, though his hand lingers on it. “Baby, can we—?”
“You’ve already filled the quota when it comes to crab-themed decorations, Joonie,” Jimin interrupts.
When Namjoon looks at you with imploring eyes, you raise both your hands and step backwards. “Don’t involve me, I’m just an innocent bystander,” you say, before escaping so that Namjoon can (unsuccessfully) try to persuade Jimin to up the amount of sea-life themed decor allowed in their new home.
This part of the city isn’t one you get to often, but it’s really beautiful. You know Namjoon likes it around here, near the river, because there are a lot more offbeat and avant-garde shops than you’d find more centrally, a warren of curiosities and pretty places around each corner. You pass by shops selling antiques, fabric, jewellery; you pause to take photos of the eye-catching doorways into each of the shops, the mismatched bunting fluttering overhead, the utterly eclectic nature of it all.
You pass by a tiny baking shop and pause in your tracks, peering into the window at a collection of rolling pins— the wood is embossed with different designs that get pressed into the pastry when it’s rolled out, all sorts of pretty patterns on display.
Jin would love these, you think, and then you tear your eyes away.
Stupid.
You continue to wander through the maze of shops but now you’ve sunk into your own thoughts. Kim Seokjin. A close friend whom you’d been harbouring feelings for, for so long now; it had been getting so hard to try and keep that love at bay, to try and shove it down inside you, keep it hidden and safe. But it had been bleeding out of you at every turn, in the way you moved and spoke and wrote, every sharp edge of you softened by your tenderness for him, impossible to ignore.
And so you’d finally let go. You’d let it out into the world, spoken the words you’d been holding onto for so long— and for a moment, just a moment, you’d had hope. Jin is bright and kind and lovely to everyone, but surely what the two of you had was a little more, a little different; all those hours spent together, the friendship you’d built, the language you’d created with each other of jokes and references that other people didn't understand. You’d thought it was something more.
You’d thought that maybe you could get your storybook ending. That maybe, for once, rather than having to imagine a mutual love and pouring that quiet desire into your books, it could be real— that the cheesy, embarrassing daydreams you’d always kept to yourself and only expressed through your writing could finally come true.
But no. Jin only loves you as a friend. You know he still considers you a friend, even now, for all that you’ve ruined things by opening your big dumb stupid idiot mouth; you’ve spent a week wallowing after his gentle rejection but you know he’ll still be waiting for you once you come back to yourself.
You’re just not sure how long that’ll take.
You’re finally pulled out of your reverie when a burst of colour catches your eye. There’s a soft blue bicycle which has been adorned with flowers and trailing leaves, part of a display in the front of a store that’s brimming with blooms, buckets set up in a cascading rainbow of colours. The windows are similarly full of plants, all enjoying the sunshine of the afternoon. Your eyes trail across the flourishing bouquets and then up to the sign, lovely and pretty, in what seems to be a hand-painted cursive: Spring Day.
You have a single, tiny cactus in your office— the only thing you trust yourself to keep alive— but screw it. You’re itching to buy something for yourself and everything seems so pretty in here. You might just buy yourself a fuck-off huge arrangement of flowers, as a sort of metaphor for the death of the hope you’d held in your chest, that your love for Seokjin might be returned.
That ship has sailed. You’ve cast it off from the shore and set it ablaze. You’re not sure they had bouquets at Viking burials, but it’s the 21st century now. You think you’re allowed to mix it up a bit.
A bell lets out a tiny, crystalline tinkle as you swing the door open, announcing your presence to anyone inside. The front counter is covered in plants, some larger, some smaller, with a few pots of flowers that you would be hard-pressed to name; there’s a glass bowl of water, too, that has unlit rose shaped candles floating in it. Cute.
You peer behind the large leaves of a ficus plant to see if there’s anyone behind the counter but it looks deserted. The only evidence that someone has been here is the book that’s open and resting face down on the wicker chair there— The Language of Flowers, okay, that makes sense, you guess. You take a sneaky photo of the set-up, something about it resonating in your chest; although there’s no one here right now their presence is still undeniable. It’s poetic, in a way. You love visual poetry.
You wave the photo about in the air to help it develop as you make your way towards the back of the shop. Spring Day seems surprisingly big, extending back farther than you had initially thought. It’s hard to gauge the actual size, with displays of flowers and plants everywhere and even hanging from the ceiling above. You meander through the store and pause to touch a hanging glass planter, which slowly spins and scatters light across you. It’s like every spare inch inside is covered, but somehow it doesn’t feel chaotic. It’s so pretty and peaceful here.
There’s clearly some sort of order to things even if you can’t tell what it is. Each display is labelled with the names of the plants and how to look after them, but just as you’re leaning forwards to read one, a noise catches your attention. You pause and tilt your head. Drifting closer to the source of the sound, you realise that it’s someone singing, a soft melody that you don’t recognise. You find that you step lightly, almost enraptured, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment with heavy footfall as you step into a greenhouse; you round the corner to find who’s singing and stop in your tracks.
There’s a pretty doe-eyed boy bent over a selection of blooms that he’s watering, white and yellow and purple and pink flowers softly trembling at the touch of the drizzle that runs over them, and it almost seems like they’ve turned towards the lilting tones that slip from his lips. You watch as he draws the watering can in a sweeping arc, the motion causing his earrings to move, catching your attention when the sunlight cascading in through the glass of the greenhouse shines off the glinting silver; his hair hangs a little in his eyes, eyelashes fanned across his cheek as he keeps his attention cast downwards, smiling at the flowers on display near his feet.
His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can see the definition of his arms, the flex of his muscles under a tattoo as he moves the heavy watering can without effort— and yet he looks like he belongs here, surrounded by flowers and plants and sunlight, soft and neat in his loose shirt, narrow waist cinched in by the ties of his apron. He turns the watering can a little further and you can see that the tattoo looks like a lily, petals unfurled over the soft skin of his inner arm.
You love visual poetry. And this man is poetry in motion.
It seems like he’s finished watering the flowers because he straightens up with a smile, song finally coming to an end. “All done,” he says to them in a quiet voice, and then he finally looks up.
He immediately startles when he sees you, water sloshing audibly in the watering can in his hands. You jump too, surprised at his surprise, the two of you like startled rabbits when you spot each other. Skittering around and trying to recatch your balance.
“Sorry, sorry!” You lift your hands in apology, holding them in front of your face as you wince. “I didn’t want to interrupt, you seemed really focused!”
The florist is blushing. He looks absolutely mortified, a pink flush stealing across his cheeks and the tips of his ears, betraying his embarrassment. “I, uh. It’s fine!” He stammers. “I wasn’t busy. Um. Can I help you?”
Your hands fall back to your sides, your heart immediately going out to this poor boy, who looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up. “I was just looking around, actually, when I heard you singing,” you say. “I didn’t mean to be like— a sort of weird voyeur, I guess? Sorry. Your voice is lovely, by the way.”
The flush has crawled down his neck. “Um, thank you?” You get the feeling he’s only saying this because you’re a customer, and if this were any other circumstance, he would have turned tail and bolted by now. Unfortunately he’s trapped by the fact he works in a retail job and he can’t escape. He shuffles a little from foot to foot as he resolutely avoids your gaze.
You take pity on him. What can you ask to change the topic? Hm. “Can you give me some advice about plants, actually?”
This seems to be the right thing to say. He carefully sets the watering can down, fingers plucking at the ties of his apron as he readjusts them, but he seems a bit more comfortable now that you’ve moved away from complimenting him and onto work related talk. “Sure,” he says. “What would you like to know?”
“I was wondering what sort of plant would be good for someone who’s only good with cactuses. I mean cacti,” you correct yourself. “I’d like something different, but I’m worried about killing it if I forget to water it. You know, the bane of every novice gardener’s existence— their own forgetfulness and ignorance. Of which I have a lot. I am spectacularly ignorant.”
The florist blinks but then he gives you a little smile, finally glancing at you. His eyes are so lovely and deep, sunshine refracting from the greenhouse reflected in his eyes, points of brightness against that endless, warm brown. “I think everyone is guilty of under-watering plants,” he says, apparently unperturbed by how unsuitable you are to be a plant parent. “I think a peace lily might suit you. Would you like to come have a look and see if you’d like one?”
A peace lily. Lily. The name of your most recent novel’s heroine. How weirdly apt. “Sure, I’d love to see the lilies.”
As you follow him you notice that there’s still a little tinge of pink on the back of his neck, evidence of how he must feel embarrassed at being caught singing and talking to plants. You find it endearing, actually, but you’re not about to say this to a stranger, especially as he clearly wants this entire interaction over and done with as quickly as possible.
The peace lily turns out to be a pretty white flower, emerald green foliage curling out from the simple unglazed pot the florist hands over to you with an infinite amount of care. He holds it delicately— it looks so small in his careful hands— and makes sure you’re fully supporting its weight before he finally lets it go. Your fingers brush his as he does and you notice how he draws back immediately, shy.
“You don’t have to water her regularly, you can just touch the soil to see if it’s moist and give it a little top up if it’s not. Even if you forget, as long as you water her when she starts to droop a little she’ll be fine. Just make sure she gets a little sunlight and you wipe down her leaves once or twice a year so dust doesn’t stop her from getting enough light, and you’re good to go.” He’s smiling, but you notice he’s still looking away from you, resolutely staring at the plant in your hands instead. “Peace lilies are incredibly forgiving.”
“Oh, that’s good, I’ll probably be asking for a lot of forgiveness,” you say. “I can guarantee I’ll forget to water her so it’s good to know she can take it.”
When you refer to the plant as ‘her’ and ‘she’— just like the florist has been— it seems like he only just notices that he’s been doing that. He looks a little embarrassed, yet again. “She’ll be— I mean, it’ll be fine, I’m sure,” he says.
“I promise I’ll do my best to look after her.” You tighten your grip protectively around your newly adopted plant. “I’d take a bullet for her.”
The florist lets out a little laugh, revealing a slip of his white teeth before his mouth clicks shut. He looks almost surprised at the fact he’d let out a chuckle and tries to cover it up with a cough. “Hopefully you won’t have to.”
You watch as he draws a ribbon around the pot, looping it against the patterned, unglazed ceramic before tying it into a neat bow. His hands are sure and his motions are practiced, fingers deft as he finishes the knot and tucks a business card into the bag alongside your plant. You can’t help but watch him, magnetised— he’s absolutely fascinating. Cute and soft, but with an undeniable strength to him, underlying each of his movements, almost hidden under the clothes that envelop him.
“Is there anything else I could help you with today?”
He’s blinking at you with those large, pretty eyes. His mouth is still a little open and you can’t help but reminded of—
“What song were you singing earlier? It was so lovely, but I didn’t recognise it.” You want to find that song immediately and keep it close forever, listen to it on a loop, even if it won’t be the same if it’s not being sung in the dulcet tones of this pretty florist. It’s such a beautiful song, whatever it is.
His mouth snaps shut again and the blush returns full force. “Nothing,” he squeaks. “It’s nothing.”
You squint at him. “Is ‘Nothing’ the name of the song?”
“No! It’s. Um. I mean, it doesn’t have a name yet.” His voice is so high right now. You pause before you light up, eyes widening.
“Wait, are you saying it’s your own song? You wrote it? Oh, wow! That’s so cool,” you say. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, I didn’t know. My bad. Totally understand wanting to keep your work private.” You quirk a smile at him. He doesn't know that you're a writer, one who publishes under a pseudonym for privacy; only your close friends know the truth. You totally get it. “Guess you probably want me to pay so I can get out of your hair now, huh?”
“N-no, it’s fine,” the florist stammers. He’s still so polite, even when he’s obviously flustered.
“Ah, you don’t have to be polite just because I’m a paying customer.” You wave your hand dismissively. Before taking off as an author you’d worked back-to-back retail jobs and it had sucked. “I’m being a pain, I know. How much do I owe you?”
He stays silent as you give him money and he hands over the change, dropping the coins into your outstretched hand. You give him one last smile before lifting your bag from the counter and turning to go, finally leaving this poor man in peace. He must be glad to see the back of you.
But then.
“Magic Shop.” His voice is quiet from behind you.
“Hm?” You pause and glance over your shoulder, confused. “Pardon?”
The handsome florist is looking down at the counter, wrapping an offcut of ribbon around one of his fingers, staring down at it as he does. “Magic Shop,” he repeats, a little louder. He tightens the loop of ribbon around his finger. “The song. I was thinking of calling it that.”
“Oh.” You continue to look at him for a few moments longer before a wide smile crosses over your face. “That’s a really beautiful name for a really beautiful song.”
He glances up from where he’s been staring at the end of his finger flush deep red, almost purple; the ribbon goes lax in his loosening hold and blood rushes back into his fingertip. “Thank you,” he says, bashful as he smiles back at you. “I’m glad you liked it.”
--
The peace lily takes pride of place on your desk once you’ve cleared it of the crap you’ve let pile up over the past week. She watches as you bend over your keyboard and mutter to yourself, pruning back a lot of the raw hopelessness of your most recently written passages before starting a new chapter.
Lily’s escaped to the neighbouring city to get away from Jaerim and her broken heart. She gets lost as she’s wandering through this new, mysterious place, trapped in a maze of alleyways before she stumbles across a mysterious building with roses climbing up the trellis by the door. The front garden is full of flowers and tended by the prettiest woman she’s ever seen, eyes wide and dark as she startles at Lily’s sudden appearance over the small stone wall. Lily might not know it now but she’s just met someone important and special, a future friend: Yunhee, a witch who can speak to plants and sells dried bundles of herbs and flowers and spells to anyone who finds her.
It’s cheesy and cliché and you know it.
“It’s cheesy and cliché but it’s cute!” Your agent, Hoseok, is as upbeat as always, and he seems genuinely onboard with the snippet you’ve just sent him. “Especially after how sad the chapters were before this one. I think it’s a nice change of pace, considering how heavy your last novel was too.”
“Haha, yeah,” you say.
Hoseok has no idea about your botched confession to Seokjin and how it had fuelled the subsequent heartbreak you’d put Lily through; you’d put your heroine through the wringer to let all your feelings out, because if you have to suffer, she does too. Especially if she’s going to get a happy ending after all of it. Lucky her.
“Your fans will love it.” Hoseok continues, oblivious. “Where did the inspiration suddenly come from, though? I thought you said you were struggling with where to go with this one.”
“I don’t know really.” You sound absent as you stare at the neatly tied ribbon that’s still affixed around your lily’s pot, Spring Day’s business card still nestled into it. “It just came to me, I guess.”
You have to resist the instinct to take a photo of the peace lily to ask Seokjin what he’d name her. (He’s always so good with names.)
You know you’ll have to see him eventually. That’s the problem when all your friends are friends with each other; it might still be a while off but once Jimin and Namjoon have moved into their apartment and decorated it, they’ll hold a housewarming party and everyone will be invited. You can’t avoid Jin forever. You don’t want to, either, but right now you still feel like your heart is an open wound, and you need to give it time. Seeing him right now will just peel back the bandage you’ve tried to lay across your weeping heart to try and hold it together until it heals.
And you still feel awkward as fuck, too. Rejection hurts but it’s also embarrassing. Struggling through ten layers of repression to be sincere with someone and open yourself to pain, only to be let down? Ugh. Awful. Terrible. Never again. You’re gonna stick with repression from now on and just live vicariously through the stories you write. It might be lonely but at least you can keep your heart safe. (Not that anyone wants your heart, anyway.)
You start to play music to your plants. You can’t sing as well as the florist, but at least your lily and cactus can benefit from the sound of music, even if you’re probably off-key when you sing along to the soft songs you choose for them.
(“Plants grow better when they’re spoken to.”
“What? Really?”
“Really,” Yunhee says with a small smile, fingers curling tenderly around the petals of the deep red tulip. “They respond to love and affection just like we do.”
Lily stares at the bloom and watches how the witch touches it so gently— with so much love and affection— and for a second she wishes was a flower, too.)
You have very little faith in your abilities to keep a plant alive, but your peace lily seems to flourish under your care. It’s only one plant but alongside your cactus it seems to bring light and life to your office, and there’s a bubbling sense of satisfaction in your chest each time you see them, still alive despite your ineptitude. It’s a brief distraction from the lingering sadness that still dogs your heels, opening up each time you find yourself thinking of Seokjin before having to quiet those thoughts.
The lily and cactus are fine but it doesn’t take long before you find yourself wanting to add more members to your green coterie. Plus, you never did buy that fuck-off huge bouquet, so maybe you’ll treat yourself to one this time around.
When you step into Spring Day you’re greeted by the sight of someone actually behind the counter today, barely visible behind the large leaves of the ficus plant; when the bell rings they pop up and it’s the same florist as before, eyes wide as he peeps over the counter and only growing wider when he spots who it is.
“Hi,” he says. He’s not as squeaky as he was last time but he still seems a little flustered at your appearance, fumbling with The Language of Flowers as he drops the book onto the chair and stands up straight; his hoop earrings have small chains today and they’re jostled by the motion. He looks away from you to brush his apron down. He’s wearing a loose button-up underneath it, sleeves rolled up like before, revealing the thin bracelets he has on each wrist. “You’re back.”
“I am.” You smile widely, surprised he's remembered you and weirdly happy at the sight of him. You’d half expected to see someone else; there’s no way this guy is the only person who works here, but you’re glad it’s him. “I was worried my lily would get lonely so I thought I’d get her a friend. Can I pick your brain for another recommendation?”
He takes you to the succulents. There’s a menagerie of terrariums to choose from, bursting with different shapes and sizes of plants, bright greens and soft teals and muted browns.
“I think you’ll like this one,” he says, lifting up a dodecahedron of glass, each geometric plane trimmed with metal. He holds it up for you as you peer inside, small succulents nestled in a scattering of pebbles and soil. “They like bright light, but keep them out of direct sunlight because the glass can magnify it and burn them. And water them really sparingly, because there’s no drainage.” He taps the base of the terrarium. “It’s really easy to over-water succulents.”
He’s always so careful when he handles things, even if he lifts them like they’re weightless. No wonder the plants and flowers bloom so prettily here. They know they’re loved and looked after.
“They’re so cute.” You smile at the collection of contrasting plants that somehow live harmoniously together in such a small space. “And there’s more than one! So my lily will have plenty of friends.”
You’re too busy looking down to painstakingly accept the terrarium to notice the small, shy smile that flits across the man’s face as he watches you, your hands so cautious and protective as you accept more members into your growing family. “You’re right,” he says. “She won’t be lonely.”
You have the glass ball hugged against your chest as you trail behind the man, but then you come to a stand still by a selection of floral arrangements and realise that there’s no way you’ll be able to carry both the terrarium and a bouquet; at least, not one the size you’d been planning for. The florist notices the sound of your footsteps disappearing and stops to look over his shoulder. He seems concerned.
“Sorry,” you apologise, staring at one particularly large collection of flowers and foliage all gathered together in brown paper, soft pastel colours surrounded by greenery and smaller pale blooms. “I was just thinking about how nice your bouquets are. They’re so pretty.”
“Would you like one?”
“Of course, but I only have so many hands.” You laugh as you glance down at the terrarium you’re clutching onto. “I wouldn’t trust myself to hold a bunch of flowers at the same time as this. That would be a disaster waiting to happen, honestly.”
The florist pauses. “How about if I make you a boutonniere to pin on your shirt?”
You look up from the terrarium, blinking. There’s that tinge of pink stealing over his cheeks again and you find the sight surprisingly endearing. “You can do that?”
“If you’d like.” He’s looking away from you again, staring intently at a bucket of sunflowers. “So at least you have some flowers to take home.”
Something twinges, deep down in your chest, right at the bottom of your ribcage. Something you can’t put a name to. “That sounds nice. Yes, please? If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”
You carefully put your succulents down on the counter and lean against it as you watch him select flowers for the corsage, pausing before he chooses each one; he keeps his gaze averted from you the whole time but you think it’s because he feels awkward about the attention you’re giving him. You’re not pretending like you’re not watching him intently, wanting to take everything in, intrigued. He keeps his eyes cast down as he starts to bring everything together but there’s still a flush on his cheeks. It’s… adorable. He’s adorable.
“Feel free to say no, but can I take a photo?” You point at the camera you have looped around your neck. “Not of you! Well. Not all of you. Just… your hands as you make the corsage? I swear I don’t have a hand fetish, I just like to take photos of things I think are cool. Totally get if you don’t want me to, I—”
“Sure.”
He’s staring down at the tiny floral arrangement in his hands as he interrupts you, but he seems resolute despite the blush on his face. You pause for a second and then smile. You lift the Polaroid camera up to peer through the viewfinder and take the shot, but before you have the chance to take a proper look it seems like the florist is finished.
He only looks up at you now that he’s done and holds his work shyly up for you to inspect, as if it’s not the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s framed a soft purple rose with small blooms of lilac and white baby’s breath, offset by a burst of greenery, delicate and perfectly balanced.
“Oh, that’s so beautiful,” you breathe. You reach out to touch it with reverent fingers, lavender petals of the rose so soft against your skin. “You did that so quickly, too! How did you choose everything? Did you just go for things you thought would match?”
“Um.” The florist has turned red. “Yes?”
You decide not to press further, even if you wonder what it is that has him so embarrassed right now. Probably because you complimented him on his floristry skills. “You have a really good eye,” you say, smiling. “It’s so lovely.”
He somehow flushes an even brighter shade of scarlet when you struggle to pin the boutonniere on and ask for his help; he’s so careful as he secures it in place, staring at his hands as he settles the flowers gently against your chest.
“Perfect.” You beam at him and feel triumphant when he gives you a small smile in return despite how shy he seems, but then he seems to realise that he’s still got his hands resting against the fabric of your clothing and rips them away like they’re on fire.
“Um.” He has his head turned away from you but there’s a wide smile on his face, teeth on show as he looks down at the ground. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
You’ve just finished paying when you realise— “I don’t think you’ve charged me for the boutonniere ?”
The florist seems like a rabbit caught in headlights. “It’s a, uh, promotional thing. An incentive to come back and buy a full bouquet or arrangement. You… uh, you actually get a discount on your first bouquet if you get a boutonniere or corsage first. I just— I need your name to make sure you get the discount. Next time you come. If you come back,” the man says in a rush, before sucking his lips in and looking away from you. “If that’s okay?”
Of course you’re going to come back. “Oh! Sure! It’s Y/n,” you say.
“Y/n,” he repeats. He’s staring at you, lips parted, soft around the shape of your name. You wait for a beat, looking back at him, before one of eyebrows rises.
“Um… do you have a book to write it down in? Or do you just memorise all of your customer’s names straight off the bat?”
The florist blinks and then his eyes go wide and his cheeks flush again. “A book! Of course, um.” He scrabbles around behind the counter, flustered, but seems to come up empty-handed. You watch as he grabs the only book he can find— The Language of Flowers— and cracks it open to the title page to scribble your name down in pencil before shoving the book under the counter and out of sight.
“I feel bad that you’ve just, uh, defaced a book because of me,” you say. “You didn’t have to write it down, I was just kidding? I know not everyone is as forgetful as me.”
“No, no, it’s alright,” he says. “It’s my book. I can write what I want in it. The, um, the logbook seems to have gone missing,” he continues, staring at his hands as he scratches his palm. “Yoongi-hyung must have moved it. I’ll, uh, write your name when he comes back with it. Yeah.”
“Yoongi? Is that your boss?”
“Hyung? Sort of. He owns Spring Day but he basically treats me like a co-owner, I guess.”
“Oh, wow, that sounds so cool, even if it must be a lot of responsibility.” You smile softly at the florist. “He must really trust you.”
He glances up from his hands, eyes warm when he spots the expression on your face. “Yeah,” he says, smiling back. “I owe Yoongi-hyung a lot.”
“Oh!” Your fingers tighten around the handles of your bag, terrarium safely encased inside. “You know my name, and now I know Yoongi’s name, but I don’t know your name…?”
He flushes again, imperceptibly, the tiniest spread of pink on the apples of his cheeks. “I’m Jungkook,” Jungkook says.
“Jungkook,” you repeat. His eyes flicker and he looks away from you. You’ll have to work on that shyness— but you’ve always been good at coaxing people out of their shells. You’re unapologetically yourself, and that helps other people feel comfortable being unapologetically themselves, too. “Alright, Jungkook, thank you for the help again today. And the beautiful boutonniere.” You wiggle your shoulder so the flowers affixed to your chest shift a little. “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah.” He sounds a little breathless. “Yeah, I’ll see you around.”
Once you get home the terrarium is carefully unpacked and placed on your desk with your other plants; you’ve had to relocate some of your general filing clutter to another table to make space (the plants make you feel better than staring at a rose-gold in tray with letters that you need to get to, so whatever). You finally have a chance to look at that photo you'd taken earlier and fish it out of your pocket.
The background is a little blurry, not the focus of the shot, but you can see the neat pile of offcuts on the table, a small scattering of equipment. Jungkook’s hands, however, are in perfect focus. He has such lovely hands, from the pronounced knuckles to the subtle flex of his tendons to the pale blue veins that are visible as he holds the tiny bunch of flowers together and wraps them in ribbon. You stare at the picture for a little longer than you probably should before resting it against the peace lily’s pot, in eyeline as you begin to write.
(Lily watches, enraptured, as Yunhee prepares the sprigs of herbs and flowers that she hangs from the kitchen’s low ceiling. Her pretty hands are so fast as they bring the dried flora together, encircling each bunch with twine, quick and delicate. Careful. Reverent.
“Would you like a go?” Yunhee has seen her watching and holds up a spray of dried lavender rosemary, colours muted from their usual brightness, but no less pretty. “I can teach you, if you’d like.”
Lily smiles. “I would love that.”)
--
“What do I want in my bouquet? Hmm… that’s a tough one. What’s your favourite flower?”
You’re back at Spring Day the day after buying your terrarium, and once again, Jungkook is there. You’d caught a brief glimpse of another man on your way in, his hair a bleached-blond mess, but he seems to have disappeared— although his apron has been cast haphazardly over the back of the wicker chair behind the counter so you don’t think he’ll be gone too long.
Jungkook pauses. “I don’t know if I could choose just one,” he says. “But if I had to, I’d say the tiger lily.”
“Oh!” You point at his arm. His t-shirt today seems to be as baggy as the rest of his clothing choices but it leaves his lower arms visible. “Is that the tattoo you have?”
Jungkook turns his arm towards you so you can see it properly, the delicate lines of the lily blooming across his skin, and you can see the scratched lines of some words silhouetted behind it, ones you hadn’t spotted before. “Yeah.” He’s smiling. “It’s my birth flower.”
“That’s so pretty,” you say, awed. “What do the words say?”
Jungkook’s been less shy today, but when you ask this, he seems bashful. “Please love me.” He traces the words with his finger, the letters hidden behind the large petals of the flower. “It’s what the tiger lily means.”
He keeps his gaze averted from you, staring at the black and grey lines that bloom across his skin. You’ve barely scratched the surface of Jungkook, but there’s something so… so fascinating about him. Undeniably powerful and masculine, yet still so soft and considerate. Romantic.
“It’s beautiful,” you say, truthfully. “Both the tattoo and its meaning.”
Jungkook smiles shyly. “Thanks,” he says. “I’m glad you like it. I, um, drew it, actually.”
You’ve been staring at his arm but when he says this, you reel back. “You designed that tattoo? Jungkook. Are you telling me you can sing and draw?” When he doesn’t respond, still shy, you giggle. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I know the truth.”
“So what would you like in your bouquet?” Jungkook’s clearly trying to change the subject and you laugh.
“I have no idea. I’m a dunce and you’re the expert, so I’ll let you do the heavy lifting,” you say. “How about something with some tiger lilies?”
The tiger lilies are beautiful, vivid oranges flecked with brown; Jungkook lets you select the ones you want, accepting the flowers from you carefully as you pluck them from the buckets and then laughing at yourself when you end up with water spattered over your shoes, dripping down the long stems. After that you let him take over and he chooses the other flowers to bulk out your arrangement, mulling over each decision before he seems content with his choices.
“I can recognise the roses and lilies, but what are the others?” You ask, intrigued.
“Roses, hypericum berries, tiger lilies, orange lilies, goldenrods, and some greening for filler.” He lifts each flower up as he lists them off for you, a cascading gradient of red to cerise to orange to yellow. “Do you want me to change them?”
“No.” Your voice is gentle. “It’s perfect. It’s just like a sunrise. I love them.”
Jungkook’s responding smile is wide enough to show his teeth and squeeze his eyes.
There’s something soothing about watching him work. His eyes are entirely focused as he puts everything in its place, uncompromising when it comes to his perfectionism; things will look fine to you but he’ll seem to think differently and shift things around until it passes his rigorous standards. You want to take a photo. Not just of his hands, but of all of him— the little furrow of his brows, the intense look in his eyes, the tiniest pout on his lips; the softness of his hands, the tenderness of his fingers, the relaxation of his shoulders. Someone who’s intent on perfecting his craft but finds joy in its practiced motions.
You're just considering risking it all to ask him if you can take a photo when you're (thankfully) interrupted.
“That’s a pretty bouquet,” someone drawls. “What’s the occasion?”
The other man has appeared out of the back room. His eyes are fox-like but his mouth is soft and his fluffy white jumper seems even softer, fuzzy against the dark apron that he loops back over his head.
“Hi, Yoongi-hyung. Um.” Jungkook glances up at you. “Is it… for… a partner? Or someone else?”
“Nope, just thought I’d treat myself. Is that weird?”
Yoongi looks at you consideringly, clearly thinking something, before he shrugs. “Nah. You should tell your partner to step up their game, though. You shouldn’t have to buy yourself flowers.”
You laugh, trying to cover up your sudden awkwardness as Seokjin’s face flashes in your mind. Partner? You? Haha. “I’m single, so this is the only way I’ll be getting flowers, I’m afraid.”
Jungkook drops a handful of goldenrods. Yoongi’s eyes flicker over to him, watching as the younger man scrabbles to pick the yellow flowers back up. “Huh,” Yoongi says. “I see. Well, as long as you’re paying, I’m not complaining.”
You already like Yoongi, as forthright and blunt as he is, an utter juxtaposition to Jungkook’s unassuming shyness; he plops himself down and watches Jungkook finish putting the arrangement together, arms crossed as he leans back in the wicker chair. He looks a little lazy and a little sleepy. A cat reclining in the sun.
Jungkook finishes the bouquet by wrapping it in layers of brown and white paper, layering orange and yellow and white ribbons around the stems, pulling the sunrise of plants together with more bursts of bright colour.
“It’s so beautiful,” you say.
Yoongi makes a small grunting noise of agreement. “Good work, Kookie.”
Jungkook seems almost overwhelmed by the praise and holds a hand over his face, a shy curve of his fingers over his nose and mouth as he coughs and pretends he’s fine. “It’s alright, I guess,” he says. “Do you want anything else?”
“No, that’s everything for today, thanks.” You beam at Jungkook, who smiles back; he’s so cute. “How much is that?”
Yoongi’s mouth opens but Jungkook speaks over him to tell you the price, which is lower than you thought, but— “That must be from the boutonniere discount, right?”
Yoongi squints at you. “Boutonniere discount?”
“You know, hyung, the boutonniere discount.” Jungkook’s voice is a little high. “The promotion.”
Yoongi stares at him. Jungkook stares back. You think Jungkook’s about to break in the face of Yoongi’s blank pokerface, but then he nods. “Oh, yeah, that one,” Yoongi says, slowly. “I forgot. The boutonniere discount. Absolutely.”
Yoongi lapses into silence during the rest of the transaction, and though he looks sleepy, his eyes are sharp as he watches the two of you. Not that you notice, too busy carefully accepting the flowers from Jungkook and hefting the huge bouquet in your arms, mindful not to jostle them too much.
“Thank you so much, Jungkook!” You tilt your head forward to breathe in the soft floral scent, smiling. “It’s so lovely. And it was nice to meet you, Yoongi.”
“Likewise,” Yoongi says. “We’ll see you again?”
“Of course!” On your way out you go to take a hand off the bouquet to give them a jaunty wave, but unlike Jungkook you can’t keep the whole thing steady with just one hand and settle with giving them a nod instead. “I’ll see you again!”
As the door settles shut behind you, bell tinkling as you go, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Jungkook. “Boutonniere discount?”
“Shut up, hyung,” Jungkook mutters, embarrassed.
Once you get home you unearth the vase Namjoon made you in his last ceramics class, unwrapping the bouquet and easing it into the water. You watch as the flowers come a little loose from the tight presentation and jostle lightly against each other as they settle into the vase. It’s a bright burst of colour on your breakfast bar, eye-catching and beautiful.
These flowers should last longer than the corsage from yesterday, which had already started to wilt; you know practically nothing about preserving flowers but you’ve sandwiched the purple rose and lilac and baby’s breath between layers of tissue and squashed them between some books on advice from the internet, wanting to press them and keep them close. (Maybe you’ll frame them or something. That would be cute.)
You pause. You pluck out a tiger lily, disrupting the careful balance Jungkook had strived to create, spinning the flower slowly between your fingers. Your friends send you congratulatory flowers after each new book publication, but this is the first bouquet that’s ever been made specifically for you— not the you that’s hidden behind a pseudonym. You. Even if you’d asked for this yourself, Jungkook had been the one to choose everything for you. He'd been the one to put the thought and time and effort into it.
You stare at the tiger lily for a few moments longer before slipping it back into the arrangement, turning it so it rests just as it had before you’d pulled it out.
(Spring is turning to summer and everything is starting to bloom, the garden alive with a riot of colour, full of the buzzing of bees and other insects— drawn here just as Lily had been. But Yunhee finds Lily in the greenhouse, away from the noise and activity, quiet and contemplative as she stares around her.
“What are they?” Lily points at a plot of flowers that have yet to bloom. The yellow and orange buds are long and heavy, weighted towards the ground.
“Tiger lilies.” Yunhee squats down and touches one of the furled flowers. “They’re shy to start with, but once they start to blossom, they’ll be some of the prettiest things here. Yes, that means you,” Yunhee laughs as the plant in her fingers seems to twitch. “They’re always so bold once they’re in full bloom. You just have to wait until you can coax them out.”)
--
“You seem to be doing better.” Jimin puts his coffee down. “Have you spoken to Jin yet?”
“Good god, Jimin,” you laugh. “Straight in there, aren’t you?”
Jimin fixes you with a stern gaze and you wince a little.
“Sheesh. No, not yet.” You fiddle with your napkin, curling it around the end of your teaspoon. “I’m starting to feel… like… kind of okay about it, I guess, but I’m worried that it’s going to be weird when I see Jin again.”
It’s been over a month since your confession, and it’s the longest you’ve gone without talking to Jin since you’ve met him. It’s… weird. You miss him so much. But you don’t know if it’s too soon to try and reintroduce him into your life, even if Jimin clearly disagrees.
“It’s only going to get weirder the longer you go without talking to him,” Jimin says, and you hate that you know he’s right. “You keep asking how he is, and he keeps asking how you are, and it’s obvious you both miss each other. I’m not saying you have to jump back to how things were straight away, but you can ease back into it, you know?”
You sigh. “I know,” you say. “It’s just hard, Minnie.”
Jimin, your oldest friend, had been the first person you’d called after your failed confession. You’d been tearful and honest when you’d said that it felt like you were going to hurt forever. But it’s weird how quickly that’s ebbed away, even if you still regret opening your mouth in the first place; most of the hurt you feel right now is from missing Jin, not from lingering pain about unreciprocated feelings. You miss your-friend-Jin, not your-crush-Jin.
“You seem to be doing okay, though.” Jimin raises his eyebrows at you over his latte. “Anything to do with whoever’s sending you those pretty bouquets that’re all over your apartment, hmm?”
You splutter into your coffee. “What? No, don’t be ridiculous, I’m buying those for myself,” you say once you’ve wiped the coffee off your chin. “Me? Getting sent bouquets? Pfft.”
You never planned on becoming some sort of manic flower hoarder, but Jimin isn’t exaggerating when he says that they’re all over your apartment. You’ve even had to buy extra vases to hold all the bouquets and arrangements you have, every hue and shape and size of flora imaginable on almost every flat surface— only your desk remains untouched, sacred ground for your potted plants. You’d bought a rubber plant a few days ago, but beyond that, nothing new has been set on your desk recently.
It’s just… whenever you’re in Spring Day it’s like there’s no space in your brain or heart to think about Seokjin. It’s a place of respite for you, now. Somewhere you can go that’s untouched by the outside world. Somewhere you can go to be surrounded by beauty and life. Somewhere you can go to talk to Jungkook, the sweet, soft florist who’s slowly opening up to you, a blossoming flower, petals unfurling further with each visit.
He’s not always there. Sometimes it’s just Yoongi, and you like Yoongi and enjoy his company, but… it’s different with Jungkook. He’s growing bolder, less shy, and every conversation with him is so riveting; you eagerly gobble up every tidbit of information he feeds you. He sings. He draws. He paints. He takes photos. He dances. Everything he finds interesting, he tries, and everything he tries, he tries voraciously— he never settles for anything less than 100%. He puts himself entirely into everything he does.
He’s incredible.
Anyway. You can’t come away from Spring Day empty-handed, hence all the flowers that are filling your apartment. Even though Jungkook says it’s okay for you not to buy things, you’d be a supremely awful customer if you just distracted him by talking and then leaving again, so you always make sure to buy something. Even if it’s just a tiny flower themed bookmark that you don't need.
“I’m all for retail therapy, but why not buy stuff for yourself that doesn’t eventually die and wilt?” Jimin seems mystified. “That many flowers can’t be cheap.”
“I’m a relatively successful author, I can afford to blow money on flowers if I want.” You wave your hand dismissively. “Besides, my latest novel involves a lot of flower and plant related stuff, so I’m basically investing in my writing. I’m killing two birds with one stone: research for my novel, as well as filling the gaping hole in my chest by buying flowers for myself because I’m destined to die alone and no one else is ever going to buy them for me.” You finish brightly.
Jimin looks equal parts frustrated and sad. “You know that’s not true, Y/n. Just because Jin—”
“It’s fine, Jimin, I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” you insist. “The reason I’ve been single for the past billion years is because I’m just too much of a catch and people find it intimidating, I know.”
You’ve used fake, inflated narcissism and mocking self-deprecation as ways of protection for years. Most people take your confidence at face value. However, Jimin knows you too well to be fooled by it; not to mention he’s one of the few people who knows about your books and has read every single one so he’s well aware of all the schmoopy daydreams you keep close to your chest.
Ugh. This is why you write under a pseudonym. Autumn Lovett is allowed to enjoy clichés and have unrealistic and dumb romantic fantasies. A lot of their platform is built around it. Meanwhile the real version of you tries to pretend that you’re not obsessed with the idea of true love and yearn for it almost every waking moment despite how utterly impossible it is that you’ll ever find it. Because it’s embarrassing.
“I’m going to kick you,” Jimin says lovingly. “Right in the shins.”
“God, please don’t.” Jimin’s kicks are lethal. “If I say I don’t genuinely think I’m some sort of unlovable cave troll, will you promise not to hurt me?”
Jimin takes longer to think about his answer than you’d like. “Okay,” he says eventually. “You have to really mean it.”
“Alright, I don’t genuinely think I’m some sort of unlovable cave troll. I just haven’t met the right person yet.” Your words seem to pacify Jimin, even if they ring a little hollow in your own ears.
The truth is that, on a deep level, you do feel unlovable. It’s maybe a bit self-pitying, because you have friends who adore you and you know you’re worthy of love, but… it’s kind of hard to really believe that when you have yet to have your feelings genuinely reciprocated. There have been a few moments in the past, a few brief, fleeting connections, but never anything wholesome and real. You feel like you’ve been waiting for something that’s never going to happen.
Besides, if it does happen, it’s never going to be as soft and loving as the relationships you write into your books, right? You’re a sucker for clichés. You love the idea of someone bringing you flowers, watching the sunset with you, dancing together in your kitchen to a song on the radio— every overdone and overused formula that’s shoved into every romantic film ever. You want all of it. (You’ve never been on a ferris wheel but god do you want to have a date that involves one.)
Maybe you’re still alone because you’ve been asking for too much. Not everyone is as lucky as Jimin and Namjoon; you doubt you’d ever be so fortunate to find someone who loves you as much as they love each other and express that love, too.
You’re still brooding over these feelings when you visit Spring Day later. Jungkook’s singing again, something smooth and lovely and mellow, and when he sees you he brightens— he cuts himself off, but not because he’s embarrassed, but because he’s happy to see you.
Something inside you goes soft and warm at the sight. He’s so nice.
Still, despite Jungkook’s soothing presence you’re far more distracted than you usually are and he seems to notice this; you end up sitting cross legged on the floor of the greenhouse under the leaves of a monstera while Jungkook keeps flicking you looks between watering plants.
A few weeks ago, he would be too timid to say anything, but by now he’s grown far more bold. You’ve been encouraging him to speak his mind. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” You’ve had your head tilted back to watch the fluttering leaves of the monstera plant but you look down to turn your attention to Jungkook. He’s wearing a dark plaid shirt today, loose sleeves rolled up past his elbow as he hefts his blue watering can; he looks soft and approachable, eyes warm with concern. “Yeah, I just have some stuff on my mind, I guess. Sorry. I’m not exactly a great conversational partner at the best of times, so I’m being even worse right now.”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologise.” Jungkook hesitates. “Do you… want to talk about it?”
You let out a light chuckle. “Ah, you don’t want to hear about the nonsense I’ve got in my brain, but thank you. It’s very sweet of you to offer.”
“No.” Jungkook’s voice is surprisingly firm and you internally startle. “If there’s something on your mind, it’s not nonsense. I’m not saying you have to tell me if you don’t want to, but— please don’t think I don’t want to listen to you.”
You blink. He’s not looking away from you like he normally does— there’s a hard set to the line of his mouth, like he really, really means what he says and he wants you to know that.
“Oh.” For once you’re the one who breaks eye contact, glancing down at your lap. You’d found a lone daisy on the floor and you’ve been cradling it in your hands, rolling the stem between your fingers, and you watch as the petals fan out and shiver at the motion. “Okay. Thanks, Jungkook.”
“Don’t mention it,” he says. His voice is gentle. You keep your eyes fixed on the daisy, and you can hear the slosh and drizzle of the watering can as he goes back to the plants. You take in a deep breath.
“What’s your opinion on romance, Jungkook?”
There’s a splashing noise as Jungkook fumbles with the can and drops it. Luckily it stays upright and doesn’t spill over the floor. “I, um, what?”
You look away from your daisy and stare at him earnestly, as embarrassingly open and raw as you feel right now. “What’s your opinion on romance? You know, love and all that.”
Jungkook pauses.
“I know it’s a weird question.” You wince. “You don’t have to answer it. I’ve just been thinking about it.”
Jungkook stares at the watering can by his feet before he stoops over and picks it back up. He’s not looking at you. “How come?” His voice is a little strained, but you don’t notice.
“Ah, I don’t know,” you sigh. “I think about it a lot, honestly. Sometimes I just wonder if it’s realistic? Like, of all the people in the world, what’s the likelihood you’re going to meet someone that you really… really resonate with? And they’re going to feel the same for you? Part of me has always believed in fate, or like… serendipity, I suppose. Bumping into someone that turns out to be so much more important than either of you could imagine. A soulmate? In a way? But as time goes on I… I guess I’m worried I’ll never actually find that and it’s all a ridiculous pipe dream.”
You feel small and defenceless after admitting this. You might be a loudmouthed sarcastic clown, but underneath all your theatrical buffoonery and snark, the truth is that you’re an utterly hopeless romantic. It’s the world’s worst kept secret, sure, but you’ve never laid it out so plainly to anyone before.
The longer Jungkook stays silent, the more awkward you feel, and you desperately need to break the tension.
“Bweh.” You make a little noise. “I get nauseous whenever I express real emotions. I didn’t mean to word vomit all of that at you, sorry—”
“I believe in soulmates.” Jungkook’s back is to you as he stands in front of a collection of osteospermums, but he’s stopped watering them. “And romance. And true love. I don’t think it’s always going to be easy, and it might hurt along the way, but… I think there’s love and happiness waiting for us at the end of it. Yoongi-hyung always calls me a hopeless romantic.” He laughs a little and glances over his shoulder at you, his expression warm and sincere. “I always cry at sad scenes in romantic films and books and he likes to tease me about it.”
He doesn’t seem ashamed about being open and vulnerable with you. It’s terrifying and yet Jungkook seems unafraid. Honestly, you admire it. “Me too,” you admit, your voice a quiet hush. “Everyone keeps arguing about if Rose could have let Jack onto the door with her but I’m always too busy crying to pay attention to how big the piece of wood is.”
Jungkook lets out a breath of laughter, nose scrunching as he smiles at you. He’s not judging your sappiness at all. “Titanic is such a sad film,” he says. “It makes my heart ache every time I watch it.”
You hit your knee with a fist. “I know! Why couldn’t they just be happy? Ouch,” you say. “Wow. I punched myself harder than I thought. I just get very passionate about happy endings. Sad endings— well, they make me sad, especially if the rest of the story has been sad too. What was it Guy Fieri said? I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.”
Jungkook blinks. “Guy Fieri said that?”
“Now that I think about it, I think it was actually Haruki Murakami.” You rub a soothing hand over your knee. “But yeah. I’m not saying sad endings don’t have a place, and sometimes it’s right for the story that’s being told, but… I’m more of a happy ending person. If I were James Cameron I’d have to let Rose and Jack end up together. I’d be too soft to write the ending he did, even if it was appropriate. You know?”
Jungkook turns away from the osteospermums, his eyes as soft as he looks at you. “Yeah, me too,” he agrees. “I think everyone deserves a happy ending.”
The monstera plant above you patiently listens as you and Jungkook have a long, quiet conversation about love and romance, and it’s… weird. You never thought you could have a conversation like that without wanting to cringe so hard you collapsed in on yourself and imploded into a black hole. Submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known is usually a lot more… well… mortifying, but somehow with Jungkook, it isn’t.
Maybe it’s because he’s so open himself. Maybe it’s because you can tell he’s not judging you at all. He doesn’t think your desperate yearning for love and romance is anything to be embarrassed about— and he clearly feels the same yearning. You find it baffling that someone as lovely as Jungkook doesn’t have someone special in his life, though. Wild.
“Monsteras are actually nicknamed Swiss cheese plants,” Jungkook informs you, running a hand over one of the leaves and trailing a finger over one of the holes in it. You're adding it to your steadily growing plant collection. “Because of these. They look like the holes you find in Swiss cheese.”
You laugh. “Oh, that’s so cute! I love that.”
Jungkook smiles. “I knew you would.”
He’s just finished tying a ribbon around the plant’s pot when he pauses. “Oh,” he says. “If you like happy endings, can I recommend something?”
He stoops down to get something from behind the counter and you can tell when he’s found what he’s looking for by how his face lights up. You’re hyped to see what it is, what’s gotten Jungkook so excited— but then he flips the book over to hand to you and you nearly choke on your own spit.
Jamais Vu. Your most recent novel.
“I really love this author,” he says as you try to swallow down your coughs, eyes watering with the effort. Luckily he’s looking down at the book and doesn’t seem to notice. “No matter how difficult things get, or how awful things seem, the endings are always happy. Or at worst, bittersweet. They’re never completely sad? Watch out for the plot twist in the middle, though, that’s a rough one.”
“Hahahaha, alright, I will!” It was the first time you’d incorporated a murder mystery in one of your books, but damn, it had gone over really well with the critics. And Jungkook too, apparently, judging from the excited look in his eyes. “This looks, um. Interesting.”
He beams at you. “If you like it, I have the rest of their books at home. You can borrow those as well. I, uh, I've been reading them from the very beginning,” he admits, with a tiny, shy laugh. “The earlier books are skewed mainly towards romance, but the plots are always good too. If, um, you like that sort of thing.”
You feel faint. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Jungkook.”
Once you get home, you very carefully and delicately place the monstera on your desk, turning it a few times until you’re entirely happy with the position of it.
Then you lie face down on your bed.
Your breaths are fuggy against your pillow but you keep your face buried in it, even if it’s getting progressively harder to breathe. Jungkook reads your books. Jungkook reads all of your books. Jungkook is apparently an avid fan of your books— the copy of Jamais Vu he’s lent you is a hardback copy and the design on it is one you recognise as a pre-order exclusive.
Oh, shit. Is it a signed copy?
You scramble out of bed to grab the book and flip to the title page. There it is, staring up at you: your own signature. Well, Autumn Lovett’s signature, complete with a tiny scribbled leaf.
To Jungkook, you’d written. Thank you so much for all your support! you’d written. Autumn Lovett, you’d written.
You muffle a scream into your hands.
Even if Jungkook doesn’t know who Autumn really is, there’s no way he’s going to read your next book and not realise the truth. The tiger lilies. Yunhee’s dark eyes and dark hair and swift hands. Her strength and softness. Lily, magnetised by her, drawn in by her gravity.
(You haven't realised until now just how much meeting Jungkook has changed the development of your novel. Why?)
You’re at a loss for words. You honestly don’t know what to feel. Part of you feels flattered that Jungkook loves your writing so much. Another part of you feels like you’ve been lying to him the whole time you’ve been talking— pretending to be someone you’re not. Somehow. Autumn has lied to him by not being real, and you’ve lied to him by not letting him know the truth. Sure, you’ve only found out today, but.
The one person you’d talk to— the one person who’d help you muddle through your emotions on something as complex as this, as flippant and blasé as he might seem to people who don’t know him like you do— is someone you haven’t spoken to in over a month.
Your eyes slide over to your phone. After your conversation with Jimin earlier you’d genuinely been planning on messaging Seokjin tonight; nothing major or big, just a dipping of your toe back into the waters of your friendship. But you need to hear his voice. You’re not going to offload on him, of course. You’re not going to make the first conversation you have after your confession to be all about you. But you just need that familiarity right now.
He picks up after one ring.
“Hi, Y/n,” he says, and you feel like you could fold in two.
“Hi, Jin.” The sound of his voice fills you with warmth and tender affection, and you love him so, so much— but you know in an instant that it’s platonic. This cresting wave of tenderness crashing through you and making your knees want to buckle is for one of your best friends, Kim Seokjin. Your friend. “Hey. I hope you’re doing okay. Been up to anything interesting?”
You end up curled in your computer chair as you talk, your hand resting on the book that Jungkook has entrusted you with. It’s funny how talking to Seokjin comes so naturally; a month feels so long, especially after such a huge revelation from you to him, but it’s also like no time has passed at all. You think maybe you could go years without talking but the moment you came back together again, it would feel the same way.
It’s like you exist on the same level. Like there’s some sort of unbreakable, connective membrane between the two of you. It’s why you’d fallen in love with him. It’s only now that you realise that you’d mistaken that closeness for romantic love, when it isn’t really, at all. It’s just different to your other friendships; deeply and emotionally intimate, but not romantic.
“It sounds like you’ve been doing well,” Jin says. There’s the sound of sizzling in the background and you glance at the clock; he’ll be cooking dinner. He always cooks around now. “How’s the novel coming along?” Are you still in love with me? Are you writing about me?
You pause. Your flip Jungkook’s book open again, staring at his name written in your handwriting— months before you’d known who he was. Some tenuous, inexplicable connection before you’d even met.
“It’s good,” you say, truthfully. “It’s not what I’d been planning, but it’s really good.” I love you, but I’m not in love with you. I’m writing, but not about you. Not really.
“I’m glad.” Jin’s voice is so warm. “You’ll have to send me what you've got so far at some point.”
“So you can point out all the inconsistencies whenever characters are cooking or baking anything? No thanks, already fallen into that trap too many times,” you say, and Jin laughs.
“If you’re going to write a character who’s a baker, you need to do your research batter,” he says, and you laugh in return.
“Did you say batter instead of better? That’s terrible. I love it, even if I wasn’t bready for it.”
“Your puns are so crumby,” Jin replies.
“Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”
You both end up dissolving into laughter at your increasingly nonsensical and awful baking puns. The puns are weak and not even good in a bad way (as in, so bad that they’re good), but they don’t need to be. Jin takes longer to finish laughing than you. His squeaky wiper noises are a familiar sound through your phone speaker and you’re still smiling once it eventually trails off.
“I missed you,” you say suddenly. “I’m sorry. Not sorry about the confession, but— sorry it took me so long to come back around afterwards. I was just worried it would be weird.”
“I understand. It’s okay. I missed you too. You know I love you, right?”
“I love you too. Not romantically. Don’t get it twisted. I realise now that I’m way out of your league, anyway, so it’s a good thing you turned me down.”
“It was for your own good,” Jin says. “As the two most beautiful human beings alive we’d been too powerful if we were together, so it’s for the good of humanity.”
“We’re just so altruistic,” you sigh dramatically, and then you both giggle. “Can the world’s two most beautiful human beings get together for lunch? That wouldn’t cause a vortex in the space time continuum, right?”
“I think the fabric of the universe can handle it.” You hear the sound of Jin taking his pan off the stove, the clunk of metal. “Let me check when I’m free, sweetheart.”
(“You seem happy.” Jaerim’s smile is a soft, hesitant thing, but Lily’s responding smile is bright and wide.
“I am,” she says. Pinned to her breast pocket is a corsage of sweet pea, soft purple and pink and white, its gentle fragrance filling her senses. A reminder of Yunhee even when she’s not here. “I’m really, really happy. But I’m always happier when I can share things with you.”
Jaerim reaches out for her hands. His touch is familiar and warm, and Lily feels as loved as she always has— the way she loves him, too.
As a friend.)
--
“You know, at this point I’m pretty sure you’re bankrolling the entire shop,” Yoongi says, and you laugh.
“I can always go somewhere else if you’d like?”
“Please.” Yoongi snorts. “I’m not complaining. Besides, Jungkook would be heartbroken if his favourite customer stopped coming.”
The way Yoongi assembles bouquets is different to Jungkook. He’s no less skilled and lavishes the same amount of attention on each one, but his arrangements always seem a little wilder, freer— not in a bad way, just different. He’s surrounded by an increasing collection of carnations and dusty miller, the silver leaves curling around the immaculately white blooms; simple and elegant arrangements for a small bridal shower.
“That’s good to know,” you say, ignoring the warm flush that spreads through your chest at the idea of being Jungkook’s favourite customer. Sometimes you worry that you’re overbearing, actually, with how often you visit, even if Jungkook never seems to mind. “I do buy a lot, though, so that’s probably why I’m his favourite.”
Yoongi’s just finished tying a trail of silver and white ribbon around the collection of flowers in his hands, eyes flicking up at you as he eases it into a small vase. “You shouldn’t feel obligated to keep throwing money at this place,” he says. “You’re welcome to come whenever you like. Without needing to buy something.”
You feel weirdly chastened. “Um, okay.” You laugh lightly. “Kind of a weird business you’ve got running if you’re not telling customers to buy things, though?”
Yoongi snorts again. “You’ve spent more money in the past few months than most customers might spend in a year.” He reaches for another bunch of carnations. “I think we’re good.”
The bell tinkles above the door. You glance over your shoulder to see who it is and your face lights up when you see it’s Jungkook, clutching a small cardboard tray of coffees. He looks boyish and cute today, his hair is a little windswept from the breeze outside, and there’s a smile on his face that only grows wider when he spots you. You smile back. You’re always so happy to see him.
“Is that my coffee?” Yoongi says, without looking up from the bundle of flowers he's holding. “Bring it here.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes and you stifle a laugh behind your hand. Any shyness Jungkook might have had originally seems entirely gone now, and he’s unabashed when he pretends to disrespect his hyung, even if you know there’s a lot of love there.
Jungkook puts the cardboard cup out of the way of Yoongi’s work so there’s no chance it might accidentally get knocked over. “Here’s the decaf caramel cappuccino with extra sweetener and whipped cream that you asked for, hyung.” Jungkook gives you a conspiring smile and you stifle another laugh at the expression that flits across Yoongi’s face at the word decaf.
“Die,” Yoongi says mildly, before taking a sip of his bitter and untouched black coffee. “Perfect. Now, shoo, I’m busy. Go check on the herb display, I think they could do with some fertiliser.”
You keep hold of Jungkook’s cup as he mists the herbs, a tiny spritzer in his hands that he carefully aims at the stem of each plant. Unlike Yoongi’s black coffee, Jungkook’s opted for something iced, a creamy yellow blend with shavings of chocolate on top.
“If I’d known you were here, I would have gotten you something as well,” he says. You glance up to see Jungkook’s paused in his motions, hands engulfed in bright green basil leaves. It seems like he’s noticed you peering at the drink.
“Don’t be silly, I don’t expect you to buy me coffee! I’m just trying to work out what this is. It looks really tasty.”
“It’s a banana frappe. You can try some, if you want?”
You beam. “Can I?” You take a sip before Jungkook changes his mind, pursing your lips around the straw as the coldness hits your tongue and nearly gives you brain freeze— but then you register the sweetness on your tongue, the flavour of banana and vanilla and honey, delicious. “Oh, this is so good,” you breathe. “Where did you get this? I need this in my life.” You take another cheeky sip, eyes on Jungkook’s reaction, but he seems unfazed at the fact that you’re greedily slurping up his drink before he’s even had a chance to have any.
“There’s a small café a few streets away from here,” he says. “I, um.” He looks away from you, back towards the basil, before he pulls his hands out of the leaves and starts to mist the soil of the mint plants. “I could take you there, if you’d like.”
You haven’t seen him blush for a while, but that familiar tinge of pink is starting to steal over his cheeks as he looks away from you. Something churns low in your stomach, something almost like butterflies; a shifting of their wings, ready to take flight. “Oh,” you say. “That would, um. That would be nice.”
For the first time since you’ve stepped foot into Spring Day, you leave without buying anything. Instead, you leave with a day and time, hastily typed into your phone so you don’t forget. (Not that you would. How could you forget anything about Jungkook?)
You still haven’t told Jungkook who you are. Well— who Autumn is. He’d been so excited when you’d ‘finished’ Jamais Vu and had accepted another book from him, wanting eagerly to hear your opinion on it; it’s hard to not blurt out the truth to him, but you don’t know how to broach that topic. You’re worried that it’ll change this friendship you’ve built up with him and you don’t want to lose Jungkook. Even if you haven’t known him that long, he’s already so, so important to you, and you don’t want to let go of that.
But if you’re starting to become real friends, the kind of friends who get coffee together, who spend time together outside of Jungkook’s work— he deserves to know, right? You just need to find the right time to tell him.
When the day rolls around, you’re early. You’re always early for things. You skulk around the front of Spring Day, where you’d agreed to meet; you make sure to keep just out of Yoongi's eye line, ducking out of sight when it seems like he might spot you through the front window. You’re staring at a bucket of coral-coloured blooms when you hear Jungkook calling your name and you glance up, lifting your hand in a wave.
You almost choke on a breath. You’ve never seen Jungkook out of uniform, his plethora of loose, oversized shirts under a dark apron, nondescript trousers and plain shoes.
“Hi, Y/n.” The smile on his face is bright and wide, eyes squeezing into crescents. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long?”
He’s in such a simple outfit, but it’s devastating. His hair is arranged neatly under a cap, a leather jacket over the dark, tight shirt tucked into his jeans, blue denim nipped in by a plain black belt; there’s large rips at the knees, flashes of skin visible as he walks forwards, feet steady in black boots. It’s undeniably Jungkook, but it’s so different from the version of him you’ve gotten used to over the past two months, catching you completely off guard.
“Y/n?” He repeats, concerned at your silence, and you snap to attention.
“Oh, sorry! I was just thinking about, uh,” you glance at the flowers you’d been looking at, “peonies. No, I haven’t been waiting long at all, don’t worry. You, um, look really nice today,” you add lamely, unsure what else to say.
“You do too.” Jungkook sounds like he genuinely means it, even if you’re just wearing a pretty regular outfit, similar to the sort of thing you usually wear when you visit him at work. “Peonies only flower for about a week, actually, if you wanted to get some?”
“No, no, that’s fine! Today’s not about flowers, today is about coffee,” you say. Your heart is hammering in your chest for some reason. A single butterfly lifts off in your stomach, taking flight with a flutter of its wings, flitting to and fro. “Take me to the coffee?”
He takes you to the coffee. He leads you confidently through the maze of alleyways, past more places you haven’t seen; he waits patiently whenever you ask to stop and take photos, watching as you stare in awe at an arch built out of precariously balanced tomes that leads into an old bookshop.
“It’s just so pretty around here,” you say, flapping your hand about to try and speed up the development process of a photo. “I’m sorry I’m taking so long.”
“It’s okay.” Jungkook’s voice is soft. “We’re not in a rush.”
He’s not just saying that to be nice, either. At one point, after you’ve apologised yet again, he steals your Polaroid from you and runs; you laugh at him when he refuses to give it back, taking shots of you while he dances just out of your reach, a cascade of photos that somehow turn out distinct and unblurred. Curse his photography abilities.
You slap him lightly on the arm when he eventually surrenders the camera back to you and he just chuckles. It’s a long, looping detour on your way to the café, but you’re having so much fun that you don’t mind— in fact you end up having to be the one to get you back on track, tugging Jungkook’s elbow when it seems like he’s about to take you down another alleyway and towards the river, which you know is the wrong direction for the café.
“Coffee, Jungkook.” You try to sound stern but you end up dissolving into giggles when he pouts at you. “Okay, how about a compromise? We can get coffee to go and then come back this way so you can show me that market you were talking about.”
He brightens. “Okay,” he says. “We can do that.”
You almost regret saying this when you eventually turn up at the café; it’s actually a few stories up a building, a narrow set of rickety steps that opens into a light, airy room, naked lightbulbs hanging in constellations overhead, the entire wall behind the counter a massive chalkboard that’s covered in art of different styles and designs. The wall facing out onto the road outside is glass— the perfect place to unwind and people watch.
“Oh, wow,” you breathe. “Jungkook, this is so cool.”
“I know,” he says, smug and cheeky, and he laughs when you huff out a little breath at him. “The drinks are good, too.”
He’s not lying. He opts for another banana frappe, and after much deliberation, you decide to try the iced honeycomb latte. He refuses to let you pay and hands his card over to the barista before you even get a chance to reach for your bag, which has you narrowing your eyes at him.
“I feel like you prepared that in advance,” you say.
“Not telling.” He taps the side of his nose, which is scrunched from his smile. Inside you another handful of butterflies take flight.
More and more take wing as the afternoon goes on, each time Jungkook laughs or smiles or looks at you; he leads you through the market and shows you his favourite stalls, excited each time he gets to show you something he likes and enjoys, stealing sips of your drink when you’re distracted— but you laugh in his face and do the same to him, so it’s okay.
Time flows by as easy as quicksilver, liquid and bright, and before you know it it’s turned from afternoon to evening, sky softening in deepening shades of blue and purple, the smattering of clouds a pastel palette of pink; you come to a stop by the edge of the river, Jungkook a few steps ahead of you by the time he realises you’re not walking beside him. He smiles at you as you lift your camera and take a shot of him surrounded by the sunset.
“I didn’t realise how late it was getting,” you say, and Jungkook blinks. It’s like he’s coming around to himself, like he didn’t realise either; he glances around and notices the shade of the sky before he pulls his sleeve back to look at the watch on his wrist.
“Wow, me neither.” He sounds surprised, and then he looks guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you busy for so long.”
“Oh my gosh, Jungkook, don’t apologise.” You tuck your latest photo into your pocket to look at later. “I’m having so much fun, I just didn’t notice the time go by. It’s not like you’re forcing me to be here,” you laugh. “I like spending time with you.”
The lampposts have yet to turn on and it’s hard to make out Jungkook’s features when he’s turned away from the soft light of the sunset like this. But you can hear the sincerity in his voice when he speaks. “Me too,” he says. “I’m really glad you found Spring Day.”
Your heart squeezes in your chest. Jungkook looks towards the river just as the first lights switch on, finally dark enough that the streetlights come to life; there're trailing bulbs between each lamppost that flicker on moments after, points of brightness that flood the path below them. Jungkook’s face is shaded by the brim of his cap but he takes it off and shakes his head, running his hand through his hair now that it’s freed. Another breath catches in your throat at how utterly mesmerising he is.
The sound of his voice breaks you out of your trance. “I was wondering,” he says, staring at the rippling mirror of lights on the water, the fading colours of the sky overhead cast in undulating reflections that shift from moment to moment. “You like photography, right?”
“I do,” you say. “Even if I’m not that great at it myself.”
“I have a friend who’s a photographer and some of his work’s been accepted in a local gallery.” Jungkook’s running his fingers over the hard brim of his cap, running them along its edge. “The opening night is in a few days, and, um. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”
He finally turns away from the river to look at you. Jungkook’s eyes are so big and dark. For once you’re the deer caught in headlights, and you don’t even know why; it’s like this simple, innocuous question has reached inside you and stolen all the air out of your lungs.
Even so, your answer is immediate. “I’d really, really love that,” you answer honestly, and Jungkook’s responding smile is so, so wide.
You forget about that final photo until you get home. It falls out of your pocket as you shrug your coat off to hang it up, and you stoop down to pick it up, fingers stuttering and going still against its white edges as you take it in.
Jungkook’s silhouetted by the evening sky behind him, in stark contrast to the gentle colours and yet just as soft. The shadows are a little blurred, and the colours are a little muted— but Jungkook’s face is clear, his eyes warm and his smile gentle as he looks at you.
No one’s ever looked at you like that before.
At last the final butterfly flaps its wings and joins the others, your stomach full of fluttering.
--
Your friendship with Jin has miraculously gone back to normal. If anything, it’s even better than it was before your confession— you don’t feel the need to think twice about your actions, like you’re tiptoeing around him, desperate to keep your love a secret. It’s as easy as it used to be and you’re glad.
But you still remember how much it hurt when he’d looked at you and turned you down. You’ve moved past it, sure, but it had just cemented something you’ve known your whole life: how utterly unlovable you are. How wrong you’d been at reading signs, how you’d been in over your head. How every crush you’ve ever had has come to nothing.
You’ve kept that picture of Jungkook resting against your peace lily. His lovely eyes watch as you struggle at your computer, hours of typing stilted words and phrases that you read back and furiously delete. You bury your head in your hands, frustrated.
Why can’t you write?
By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve added a grand total of one (1) sentence to your novel. But right now you have more important things to worry about; it’s almost time for you to meet Jungkook at the gallery downtown and the maps app on your phone has been playing up. It’s not that you’re going to be late— you don’t actually live that far away— but you’re not going to be early, and you hate that.
You can see the small groups of people trickling into the gallery, the lights shining out by the entrance cutting across them as they step inside, but your eyes are immediately drawn to Jungkook. He’s been looking down at his phone but as soon as you start to approach it’s like he can sense that you’re there, eyes rising from his screen and zoning in on you immediately.
You stop in your tracks. His face lifts and splits into a wide smile and you smile helplessly back. He’d said the dress code for tonight was smart-casual, and he looks so good dressed like this. You love his turtleneck jumper.
“Hi,” he says. “Wow, you look good.”
“Hi,” you respond, breathless. You feel winded from his compliment and from the blush that’s rising on his face, even if he’s keeping his gaze locked on yours. “You do too.”
You stare at each other for what feels like eons when someone brushes past you and it snaps the two of you out of the moment, and Jungkook coughs. “Um. Should we go in?”
It’s busier inside than you thought. The gallery isn’t exactly small but the layout isn’t entirely straightforward and people keep clustering in certain areas and getting in the way, distracted by the photos on display. You have to wade through one particularly large group of people to get back to Jungkook, who’s been waiting for you on the other side; he looks concerned on your behalf, and when someone makes a move to walk between the two of you he reaches out for your hand, cutting off their path. Your hand feels so small in his, so warm in his grasp.
“I didn’t realise there’d be so many people here,” he mutters, looking around. You entwine your fingers with his and he startles, glancing at where your hands are joined, like he hadn’t noticed that he’d reached out for you.
You abruptly feel embarrassed and you’re about to let go when Jungkook squeezes your hand. You glance up and he’s looking away from you, back of his neck red, but he’s not letting go.
“I think Tae’s stuff is a bit further in,” he says. “Let’s go.”
You trail after Jungkook, who keeps his pace matched to yours. It’s a little quieter back here so it’s easy to find who you’re looking for; when you spot a man with bright blue hair he waves wildly in your direction and Jungkook brightens.
“Kookie! Hi!”
Jungkook lets go of your hand when he’s swept into a hug, and before you can introduce yourself, you’re swept into a hug, too.
“I’m Vante,” the blue-haired man says once he lets you go. “But you can call me Taehyung. Vante is my photographer name. I think it sounds cooler. Don’t you?”
“I think Taehyung is a lovely name,” you say, unphased by how full on Taehyung seems to be. “But Vante sounds really cool, too.”
Taehyung beams at you. “I like you,” he announces. “Y/n, right? Jungkook mentioned you.”
You cough into your palm, trying to act like you’re not supremely flustered right now; when you’re not looking, Jungkook hits Taehyung on the shoulder. “Yeah, that’s right,” you say, looking up. Both boys have innocent expressions on their faces. “Can I have a look at your photos?”
Taehyung is an incredibly talented photographer. You don’t need to be an expert to know that. He has a series of scenic and nature shots, some in colour, some in black and white; he enthusiastically answers your questions about each one, about the background of them and why he takes photos of what he does. Jungkook walks quietly behind you and is content to watch as the two of you talk, chest warmed by how well you’re getting on with each other.
You round a corner to another wall, and Taehyung gestures dramatically at the collection lined across it. “And these are my portrait photos,” he says. “There’s even one of Kookie up here, even if he gets embarrassed whenever I mention it.”
Sure enough, Jungkook is blushing.
“Take me to it,” you say firmly, and Taehyung laughs out loud before he does just that. It’s a black and white shot, Jungkook in profile as he looks towards the camera, endless ocean waves and sky behind him. “Jungkook, you’re such a good model,” you say, smiling softly at it.
Jungkook’s gone bright red, and you’ve honestly missed this sight, even if you’re glad that he’s not shy with you any more. “Taehyung’s just good at taking photos,” he says, voice high with embarrassment.
“I have a lot more photos of Jungkookie that aren’t on display,” Taehyung pipes up, and Jungkook looks like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him. “You’ll have to visit my studio some time so I can show them to you.”
You have Taehyung’s business card carefully stowed away in your bag as you walk home, arms swinging by your sides; you unintentionally brush your hand against Jungkook’s, but before you can say sorry he’s taken it as an invitation to hold your hand again. The apology dies on your lips as he slots his fingers between yours and you smile at him instead.
“Taehyung is so cool,” you say. “And talented, too. I love his photos.”
“I’m glad you both get on so well,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes people seem to think Taehyung is… I don’t know. He can come on a bit strong, I guess.”
“He’s great.” You frown. “I’m going to fistfight anyone who’s mean to him.”
Jungkook laughs and squeezes your hand.
He insists on walking you up to your door, keeping hold of your hand as he follows you inside your apartment building. You feel somewhat abashed at how wide his eyes go at how nice it is inside here. You’re not on the same level as, say, Stephen King or George R.R. Martin, but you make a pretty decent amount of money from your books and it shows.
Jungkook doesn’t actually know what you do. You’ve vaguely alluded to the fact that you’re a writer, but that could mean any number of things; for all he knows you could pen the agony aunt column in a magazine (you imagine that would be pretty fun, actually). You keep waiting for the right opportunity to come clean about your pseudonym but nothing’s presented itself yet.
“Do you want to come in? My friend Seokjin makes killer brownies and I’ve got a box of them still in the fridge,” you say. “He always makes way more than I can eat myself.”
Jungkook seems torn. He wants to see inside your apartment, you can tell, but he also probably doesn’t want to seem intrusive— even if you’re offering.
“I hate wasting food so you’d be doing me a real favour,” you add, and Jungkook relents.
“Alright,” he says, and you smile to yourself as you unlock your door.
You’ve been giving flowers to other people, too— Seokjin and Jimin and Namjoon and even Hoseok have been receiving the gifts of your bounty— but only the premade bouquets. The ones that Jungkook puts together are ones that you keep for yourself. It’s far less overwhelming now than it had been a while ago, only a few floral arrangements here and there, but it’s obvious from Jungkook’s expression that he recognises each bouquet.
He ends up sitting at your breakfast bar as you dig the brownies out of your fridge, and he smiles in delight as you warm up some milk. It’s getting late, and you know Jungkook doesn’t like coffee, anyway.
(You’ve learned a lot about Jungkook in the past few months.)
“Which one is Seokjin?” He asks around a mouthful of brownie. You’ve retired to your living room and Jungkook is peering at the strings of fairy lights you have on the wall, Polaroids of your friends and family clipped along its wire. “This one?”
“No, that’s Namjoon,” you say. You stand up from the couch and scooch next to Jungkook so you can point. “He’s Jimin’s boyfriend— which is this guy here. That’s Seokjin,” you point. “All my favourite people. Ah, don’t look at this one, it’s me and Jimin when we were back in school. We look like such dorks. Look at our hair.”
“You look cute,” Jungkook says, and you try not to blush. “Wait, is that me?”
Your collection of Jungkook photos has been growing exponentially over time. The one he’s looking at is a picture of himself in Spring Day, bent over a bucket of roses, fingers cupping the pink flowers as he smiles at them; he’s said he’s okay with you taking photos, but maybe he meant when he was actually aware of you taking them.
“Um, yeah,” you say. You feel weirdly embarrassed. “I can take it down if you want? Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” Jungkook’s staring at the glowing light next to the photo, avoiding your eyes. “I just didn’t think I’d be on the wall with the rest of your, uh, favourite people.”
Your mouth falls open. You don’t know what to say. Normally you’d scoff at him and say duh, of course you are, but for some reason you can’t summon the courage right now. The words catch in your throat.
Luckily, Jungkook seems to notice another photo. “Oh, is that from your school prom? Wait. Are you on crutches?”
You laugh, glad for the distraction. “Oh, yeah! Jimin persuaded me to sneak out of my house a few weeks before that because I was under curfew but there was a party we were both desperate to go to. Needless to say, climbing out of my window didn’t go so well. I was on crutches for ages after that. It wasn’t so bad, honestly. People felt sorry that I couldn’t dance so they kept sitting with me and feeding me cupcakes out of pity. They were delicious,” you say with a smile. “Never did get to do that end of school dance I’d planned with Jimin, though. That’s the only thing that was bad about it.”
Jungkook’s face twists. You’re too busy looking at the photo and reminiscing to notice, but you do notice when he steps back. You turn, confused as Jungkook holds his hand out and looks at you expectantly.
“What?”
“I know it’s a bit late, and I’m not Jimin, but you can have that end of school dance.” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at you. “I promise I won’t step on your feet.”
You giggle, but you can feel a blush threatening to fight its way onto your cheeks. There’s a storm of butterflies in your stomach. “But there’s no music,” you say. “How can we dance without music?”
Jungkook shrugs. “I’ll sing for us,” he says. He steps forward, hand still proffered, and you slide your hand into his, unable to deny him.
It’s been years since Jimin’s taught you the basic waltz, and you’re a little stiff because of it, but your body seems to remember the steps as Jungkook slowly leads you. You’re staring at your feet while Jungkook hums, but once you have the rhythm down he opens his mouth and starts to sing; you look up from the floor, your eyes helplessly drawn to his.
His voice is soft and honeyed, words sweet as they hang in the air. You’re so entranced by the deep, warm brown of his eyes that it takes you longer than it should to recognise the lyrics of the song: 10,000 hours, transformed by Jungkook’s mellifluous voice.
He leads you into a turn, and when you come back together it’s a little clumsy and you giggle. Jungkook smiles at you as he continues to sing. The laughter leaves you feeling light and sparkling, like there’s a fountain bubbling inside you, and all the stiffness finally falls away from your limbs. The waltz becomes more of a swaying dance as you let your arms drop, Jungkook’s arm sliding around your waist as you step closer to him, and you end up turning in small circles in the middle of your living room as Jungkook murmurs a love song into your ear.
You suddenly realise that you’ve never been happier than you are right now: dancing in your living room in the circle of Jungkook’s arms as he sings to you, a romantic cliché that’s somehow become true for you. For you. With someone as incredible as Jungkook.
You’re never happier than when you’re with Jungkook.
Holy shit.
You’re in love with Jungkook.
The final note of the song lingers in the air as he comes to an end, the resonance of a bell that slowly fades. He smiles at you as you slowly come to a stop, still nestled in each other’s embrace as your feet finally become still.
“I’m so glad I broke my leg,” you say suddenly, and Jungkook laughs outright, face squeezing up in the way that you love so much.
You’re in love with him.
You watch as he slips his shoes back on. You feel helpless and untethered in a lot of ways, but at the same time, you’ve never felt more sure about anything. When he flashes you a smile, you can’t help but smile back— but that’s always been the case, hasn’t it?
“Hey,” you say suddenly, just after Jungkook’s finished shrugging his coat on. “I know you’ve just, um, gotten ready to go and everything, but can I quickly show you something?” Your heart is thudding in your chest.
Jungkook blinks. “Sure.”
You give him a jerky nod before turning on your heel and walking down the corridor to swing the door open to your office. Jungkook follows behind you, waiting in the doorway as you flick the light on; he makes a noise when he notices the frame hanging on your wall, the flowers of the corsage that you’d dried and pressed safe behind the glass.
You don’t respond. You’re too busy taking a moment to suck in a deep breath and steel yourself before you open your filing cabinet to pull out a stack of papers, sheaves of writing that are stapled together— the very first, unedited drafts of each of your novels, kept for posterity.
“I, um, don’t really know how to say this.” You stare at your hands as you shuffle through the booklets. “I haven’t told anyone new in a long time, so I guess I’m out of practice, but, uh.” You’re so nervous that you’re light-headed. “Autumn Lovett is actually my pen name. These are drafts of my novels if you think I’m lying,” you say, shoving the paper at Jungkook’s chest; he grabs them before they fall to the ground. “Um. So. Yeah. Taa-daa?”
You feel like you’ve run a marathon. Your heart is racing and your lungs are struggling to take in air. You can’t look at Jungkook. You’re staring at the ceiling instead, dreading his reaction.
When he makes a noise, however, your head snaps down. He’s crouched in the middle of your office with your drafts held over his face.
“Jungkook?” You say, panicked, and he makes the same noise again.
“Oh my God,” he whines, muffled behind the paper. You squat down to grip his hands and pull them away from his face, worried; when it’s finally revealed he’s bright red and he looks mortified. “I can’t believe I recommended your own books to you,” he all but wails. “And I gushed like a fanboy in front of you about them too. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
You don’t mean to but you laugh. Jungkook tries to hide his face again but you pull the drafts out of his hands and send them scattering to the floor. “Oh, Jungkook,” you say, overflowing with affection. “You don’t have to apologise. I found it flattering, actually.”
He doesn’t seem bothered that you hadn’t told him sooner. He doesn’t care that you’ve been keeping it a secret. He’s just embarrassed. He stays embarrassed as he helps you gather up the papers, and he stays embarrassed as you return your own book that he’d let you borrow, and he stays embarrassed as he heads towards your front door for the second time that night.
“I do, um, really like your work,” he says, shy as he fiddles with your door handle. “I’m really looking forward to your next novel. I’m not just saying that to be nice because I know who you are now.” His eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “I mean it.”
Your heart feels full to the brim with fondness. “I know,” you say. “I believe you. I— you can have a read through it before it’s published, actually, as long as you promise not to leak it.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen even further before he holds his hand out. “Pinky promise.”
You giggle as you hook your finger with his. “Pinky promise.”
Once Jungkook’s left you immediately sit down at your computer and write and write and write— it’s like the words just won’t stop. They come pouring out of you, and endless torrent that you don’t try to rein in. You write for so long you end up crashing at your desk, face smooshed against your keyboard as you drool in your sleep.
(“I don’t know how to dance,” Yunhee says, and Lily just smiles.
“Me neither,” she says. “We can learn together.”
They keep stepping on each other’s feet. It’s clumsy and messy and they keep dissolving into laughter between apologies to each other, but it’s perfect, because it’s Yunhee.
It’s perfect, because it’s Yunhee, with Lily: because it’s them, together.)
--
“I’ve finished my novel,” you announce, and all the men at the table sit up.
“Wow.” Namjoon blinks at you. “I thought you weren’t due to publish for, what, another six months?”
“What can I say? I’ve been inspired.” You smile down into your glass before taking a drink of your orange juice.
Seokjin stares at you before he leans back in his chair. He’s always been able to read you through and through, and that perceptiveness doesn’t leave him now. “Ah,” he says. “You’re in love.”
You’re in the middle of swallowing your juice and nearly choke, spluttering. Namjoon pats your back with concern while his boyfriend looks askance.
“You’re in love and you didn’t tell me?” Jimin sounds affronted. “Who is it? Are they cute? Where are you hiding them? I knew you were lying about those flowers, you lying liar.”
“I wasn’t lying,” you wheeze, finally coughing the last remnants of orange juice out of your windpipe. “Well, I guess it was kind of a half lie? I was buying them, but, uh, he made them.” You fiddle with the napkin in your lap as Seokjin coos at you.
“You fell in love with a florist,” he says. “You’re literally living in an AO3 fanfic. That’s adorable.”
“Shut up,” you hiss, and Jin just laughs when you try to kick him under the table and nearly hit Namjoon instead.
“It sounds romantic,” Namjoon agrees, apparently unphased by how close he was to getting nailed in the shins.
Jimin slaps his small hand against the table. “You haven’t answered any of my questions, snake. I know what you’re like, Y/n— get the Polaroid out of your bag. We need to judge your new beau.”
Jimin’s right. He knows exactly what you’re like, the helpless romantic that you are; the three men shuffle their heads together to peer at the photo of Jungkook, the one where he’s surrounded by the sunset.
“He’s fucking cute,” Jimin decides immediately. “I’m almost offended you haven’t introduced him to us yet. You should invite him to our house-warming party. Namjoon agrees.”
You look at Namjoon, who nods despite not being consulted. “You’re so whipped,” you mutter at him. He just shrugs. “Anyway,” you continue, raising your voice over Jimin’s and Jin’s muttered conversation as they continue to stare at your photo of Jungkook. “I’m going to hold fire on the house-warming party invitation for now, because, um, I haven’t actually said anything to him yet.”
Your eyes are cast down as you say this, affixed to the sight of your hands in your lap. You’ve still been visiting Spring Day, of course, and you’ve started to see Jungkook more and more outside of work as well; each time you meet him you fall a little bit more in love. It’s almost terrifying how easy it is to fall for him.
“Y/n.” Jimin’s voice is sober and you glance up from your lap to take in the worried look on his face. “I know it must be scary—”
“Oh gosh, Minnie, I love you, but it’s okay, you don’t need to give me a pep-talk on how I’m a 10/10 and anyone would be blessed to have me,” you interrupt. “I haven’t been putting off confessing because I think he’s going to pull a Jin and turn me down—”
“Hey,” Jin says mildly. He knows you’re joking. You got over that ages ago.
“—but I, um, emailed him my book yesterday, actually,” you finish. “What he does once he’s finished reading it is up to him.”
Jimin is right. It is scary. But Jungkook is worth the potential pain and heartache. He is. He’s always so lovely to you, always so considerate; he sings for you and dances with you and he’s even painted for you, a small canvas covered in favourite flowers, ones that won’t die. Last week when he’d dropped you off at your apartment, he’d brushed his lips across your cheek before practically sprinting away, and your heart had exploded in your chest.
You have no idea how someone as amazing as Jungkook sees something worthwhile in you, so it's hard to come to grips with, but there’s no way you’re reading this wrong. There’s no way.
The table goes quiet and then Jin leans forward and takes your hands in his. “I can’t believe you’re confessing to him with your book,” he says. “This really is an AO3 fanfic. Hashtag slow burn.”
This time, when you kick him, you don’t miss.
You spend the rest of the day with your coterie of doofuses and by the time you get home you’re ready to relax. You’ve just finished getting into your pyjamas, flopping down onto your sofa when there’s suddenly a hammering at your door. You sit up, startled at the noise. The knocking doesn’t let up as you approach the door and you’re wary, but once you look through the peephole you immediately swing it open.
“Jungkook? Are you okay?”
He’s wild-eyed and windswept and his chest is heaving as he sucks in air. You stare at him with concern as he catches his breath.
“Yoongi let me have the day off,” he says. You blink at him.
“Okay? Did you want to go out somewhere? Now? You’ll have to let me change, though, my pyjamas aren’t exactly great evening wear.”
“I’ve spent the whole day reading your book,” Jungkook says, and your heart goes still in your chest before it starts beating at double time.
“Oh,” you say. “Um. What, uh. What did you think?”
Jungkook’s face has taken on an expression that you’ve become intimately familiar with, a similar look to the one he’d been giving you that night by the river, soft and open and warm and— you can see it now, as time has gone by— full of love. He cups your face in his hands and rests his forehead against yours, dark eyes drinking you in, the smile on his lips so lovely and sweet. Just for you.
“I love you,” he says, and then he kisses you.
He keeps cradling your face in his hands, his lips moving against yours in a way that’s so tender that it makes you want to cry; you’ve never felt so wrapped up in someone’s touch like this, like you can feel exactly how precious you are to him just from the touch of his lips against yours. You know it’s a cliché to say that it feels like fireworks going off in your chest, but it does, every single one of the butterflies that have been nestled in your ribcage exploding into flames and brightness, sparkling heat that shines out of you every second Jungkook keeps kissing and kissing and kissing you.
Kissing Jungkook feels like every romantic fantasy you’ve ever written into your books is coming true all at once. You’re not unwanted, undesirable, unlovable: he wants you, he desires you, he loves you.
(He loves you.)
It feels like every flower he’s ever given you is flushing to full bloom all at once, spilling out of your chest, brightness and colour and life curling around your heart. All those years spent quietly hoping, culminating in this moment: Jeon Jungkook pressing his lips against yours, keeping you steady as you lean into him, and you feel like all that waiting and yearning and wanting was worth it if you got to meet him at the end of it all. You’ve finally got your storybook ending.
No, actually— it’s just the beginning.
You’re still standing in your doorway when you part, Jungkook’s hands splayed across your jaw as you give him a smile so wide it almost hurts.
“I love you too,” you say. “If that wasn’t already obvious.”
Jungkook chuckles and you can’t help but lean into the sound, eyes slipping shut as you turn your head and rest your forehead against his jaw. “I had to reread some parts because I didn’t think I was reading it right,” he admits, and you keep smiling. “I thought there was no way it could be real.”
How could Jungkook ever have any doubts? How could Jungkook think that there was no way that you could love him? Does he not realise how amazing he is? How wildly lucky you feel that somehow— with all your flaws and blemishes and imperfections— he loves you back?
“What made you come around?”
“Yoongi-hyung took one look at the last page and threw a roll of ribbon at my head,” Jungkook says, and you laugh, and Jungkook laughs, and the two of you are laughing and laughing and laughing. You feel like you could float away, buoyant with happiness; only Jungkook’s presence is keeping your feet on the ground. “I hope you don’t mind that I let him read it.”
“It’s okay.” You tilt your head back to look at Jungkook. He’s staring at you like you’re the sun and he’s turning towards you, a fierce and beautiful tiger lily blooming in your light. “I wouldn’t mind if you sent free copies of the book to everyone in the world if it meant I’d have you at the end of it.”
Jungkook smiles at you. It’s bright and wide and his eyes are crescents as his nose scrunches and he flashes his teeth, and you love him. “Purple rose, lilac, baby’s breath,” he says, and you recognise the flowers of the corsage he’d given you, all those months ago. “Love at first sight, first love, everlasting love.”
You stare at him in disbelief. “Shut up,” you breathe. He'd seen you as worth loving, even then? “Shut up. You did not— you did not confess that you had a crush on me with flowers? After we’d only met twice?”
“Maybe I did.” Jungkook’s smile turns cheeky and you love him.
“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe me. You were literally reading a book about flower language, how did I not— god. I love you,” you say helplessly, and he laughs before he kisses you again.
(“I love you.”
Yunhee freezes in place and looks up at Lily with wide eyes. Lily is terrified of being hurt again, terrified of Yunhee not returning all this endless love that she has in her heart— but Yunhee is worth that terror. She’s worth that pain. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, she needs to know how loved she is. How brilliant and lovely and wonderful she is, her Yunhee, her love.
Yunhee opens her mouth to reply, and says:
-
How this story ends is up to you, Jungkook. I’ll be waiting. - Y/n)
#jungkook fluff#bts fluff#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenario#bts oneshot#joy.masterlist
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
My (mostly) Destiel Recs, Round-up #6
Well, between working like crazy on my DCBB fic and GISH and injuring my neck last month I haven’t kept up with my rec posts, so this one is going to be LONG and have a LOT and I’m going to try to break it up into sections, from oldies but goodies (some things I found on very old rec lists) to smutty delights to just tasty little bits of fluff, hopefully there’s something or everyone here. Most of these are not super-long, largely in the 10-25k range, though there are a few beyond that. With all the stuff I’ve had going on I haven’t wanted to lose sleep diving into 100k epics (especially when I’m writing my own right now, lol.)
“Oldies” but Goodies: Here are two great fics written some time way back when but that still definitely slap.
Theodicy by manic_intent (11k) - Probably the most brilliant Godstiel fic I’ve read to date. One of Cas’s first acts as the new god is to make a new archangel. Dean isn’t exactly on board with having his soul re-sculpted into wings he hates on sight (especially as they seem magnetically drawn to Cas), but he isn’t exactly given a choice. He, Sam and Bobby struggle with how to handle their former friend suddenly becoming a vindictive deity - trying to make plans to kill him if they must, which is pretty hard when it seems like Cas is always one step ahead of him. Can Dean hold on to enough of his humanity to provide a conscience to Cas and try to steer him toward good acts instead of destruction? This is one that I can’t say has a perfectly happy ending, but it’s a hopeful and imperfect one that’s just right for how the story plays out.
My Eyes Are An Ocean by entanglednow (10k) - Season 5 AU where Dean averts the apocalypse through a spell that “powers up” all the angels and he sees Cas’s true form - before being rendered blind. Dean tries to adjust to his blindness, Cas tries to deal with his guilt, and it’s just a lovely little read with an ending that’s... *chef’s kiss*
Lots more recs below the cut:
More great reads from some of my favorite authors I’ve recced before:
The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (21k) - This may be my new favorite DeanRH fic...at least for the moment. The year is 2152, Sam and Dean are long gone to Heaven, while Cas - stuck somewhere between mortal and angel - remains on Earth keeping vigil, keeping up the hunt, assuming he’ll never see either Winchester ever again. But when he starts hearing things, and imagining Dean visiting him as an angel himself, he starts losing grip on what is and isn’t real, and whether he can trust anything he sees or believes to be the truth. This is one hell of a psychological rollercoaster that kept me guessing right along with Cas until the very end. It also has some super-creepy horror elements, a novel “monster of the week”, and the hot-as-sin smut scenes I always expect from this author.
X Marks the Scot by DeanRH (15.9k) A fun little romp through history in one of this author’s great not-quite-au fics. Crowley sends Dean and Sam back in history to the Scottish Highlands to stop a monster, and while there they meet a blue-eyed clan chief who makes Dean weak in the knees. There’s something familiar about him, too. a very clever au that ties back to canon for an unexpected fix-it. Also, Cas in a kilt. Enough said.
The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by DeanRH (12k) - Sweet and slightly angsty AU. What if Dean was a gardener in ancient Babylon when a strange dignitary came to warn that the tower under construction was to be destroyed by angels? Lush, romantic and sexy with some wonderful tie-ins to canon characterizations (of Dean, Sam, John and of course Cas).
sufficient for thee by angelfishofthelord (21k) - This is a beautiful Cas angst-fest and character study that reimagines how angel grace works, particularly in regards to healing others. It covers the whole of Cas’s arc from Season 4 through a post-series fix-it, is absolutely stunning and features some great world-building in regards to the angels. (One important TW: those with cutting/self-harm issues may wish to skip or at least proceed with caution). I love that I can always count on angelfishofthelord when I need a good dose of Cas!whump and pain.
And laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself (13k) - another great Dadstiel fic from this author featuring one of my favorite angsty subjects! I don’t know how I missed reading this one before. An AU where Cas is raising (baby)Jack on his own until the angels find the two of them and prepare to seal Jack away in the Ma’lak box. Cas begs them to let him go with Jack, so at least Jack won’t be alone for eternity. Meanwhile Dean is frantically trying to find what happened to Cas, and he gets some unexpected help from Crowley. It’s sad and sweet and all the characterizations are great. A+ Crowley use here, too.
what stays (and what fades away) by dothraki_shieldmaiden (64k) - a fabulous read with some great art, too, that started me reading a bunch of fic from this author. Cas goes missing, and when he’s found he seems deep under a spell. When they finally manage to awaken him, he doesn’t remember anything of this life with Dean, Sam and Cas in the bunker. The last thing he knew he was a nurse living with his wonderful husband, Dean, and their two adopted children, Jack and Claire. What I loved about this one was the clever twist as to who was behind Cas’s curse and also how well-developed his AU world/existence was. I’m not generally keen on mundane aus or the one-dimensional way a lot of djinn dream fics tend to go for them, but this one managed to capture a believable version of Dean and Cas living a “normal” life without monsters without making it sugary/too-sweet.
before knowing remembers by dothraki_shieldmaiden (14k) Post 15x04, a wonderful fic that plays with some meta topics in a clever way. Dean and Sam are happy - they have free will and they’ve won against Chuck, even if they suffered some big losses along the way (including Jack). But Dean can’t help but think he’s forgetting something...or rather, someone. Yet every time he thinks he remembers, the name and face of that someone slips from his mind.
weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden (9k) Post-15x03 where Cas ends up going back to the Gas ‘n Sip and working with Nora after leaving the bunker. A bitter sweet divorce-arc AU and what I love the most is how it ends - not perfect, not tragic, just very real and believable.
15x18 and Post-canon fix-it fics:
Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift (26k) - An angsty but lovely fix-it fic, one where it gets worse for a while before it gets better. Dean pulls Cas from the Empty, where he’d been living in a fantasy world with a dream!Dean who was giving him everything real!Dean is certain he can’t. Dean has to struggle with wondering if Cas would have been better off with dream!Dean instead of him. This is one that will break your heart before putting it back together again as Dean struggles with his self-worth issues.
so good at crashing in by Wintertree (36k) - Another post-finale fix-it where Cas is back, the world is saved, and things are still...not as easy as it should be for either Dean nor Cas. Monsters are gone, there’s no more hunting to be done, and Cas wants to move out of the bunker somewhere closer to Claire, to move on with a proper human life. Dean thinks he can move there with Cas and stay as “best friends”, even to the extent that Cas encourages him to go out and have sex with others/women. (And wants to hear about it after the fact!) But can Dean figure out what he really wants, and what Cas wants as well? A refreshingly unique take on what a post-series life could have looked like for them.
Delicious smut:
Empty by squirrelofcelestialintent (43k) - Every day this fandom makes me rethink my previous squicks and DNWs in fanfic. Here I find myself enjoying quite a bit more dom/sub elements than I normally ever would! I think because I was absolutely drawn in by the breathtaking first chapter, capturing beautifully the emotions of Cas returning from the Empty in Season 13 if he and Dean had confessed their feelings right then and there. But Dean’s self-worth is all fucked up, he feels there’s no way he can be good enough for Cas, especially when his sexual desires run a little bit...let’s just say outside the vanilla and he’s struggling with shame over doing sex work when he was younger. This was HOT and POOR SAM really gets stuck in the middle of, well, hearing more about his brother’s sex life than he ever needed to.
He's My Mate by Hatsonhamburgers (22k) - This fic manages the delightful combination of humor and extreme hotness perfectly. Dean and Cas catch each other in some questionable masturbation situations. This leads Cas to decide he needs to buy Dean some proper sex toys. He’s just helping his best friend out, right? Sure. As I said, hysterical AND hot as hell.
Generals by nanoochka (9k) - Cas/Dean, Cas/Balthazar/Dean, implied past-Cas/Balthazar. An old LJ fic I found on an ancient rec list that is just scorching hot and a brilliant character study of Cas and Dean. Balthazar decides to invite himself in when he catches Dean and Cas engaging in some frisky business, and it turns into a bit of a power-play between the two soldiers of Heaven. Cas gets DP’ed and it’s all...well. It’s fucking good, read it.
The One With The Preening by HolyFuckingHell (5.5k) Can I do a rec post without including some wing!kink/wing!grooming in it? No, I can’t. (I also really enjoyed some of the other fics in this author’s series including The One With Dean's Horny Movies).
A Single Point of Light by Destina (2.4k) - This is a gorgeous Cas/Dean/Benny Purgatory short! A delicious balance of the two each caring for and caring about Dean in their own, protective ways, definitely a delight for any fans of this threesome.
Short and sweet, fluff to angst:
Snugglebird by almaasi (5.3k) - So, so soft and sweet and snuggly, just like the title. Dean’s things are disappearing from the bunker...and so, suddenly, has Cas. What’s going on? I do love my nesting!Cas fics, so...yeah. If you need a smile this is a good one to read :)
And Cleanse Me From My Sin by thisisapaige (1.6k) - another one for my beloveds who also enjoy wing grooming and sweet Dean-taking-care-of-Cas fluff.
Needle and Thread by Misachan (4k) - Season 5 wing!fic hurt/comfort. Cas’s wings are badly injured, Dean doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s stitched up Sam and himself enough times. He can do this. If you love caretaker!Dean and vulnerable!Cas don’t overlook this little gem.
Deceptive Preludes by sp8ce (2.7k) - One of those stories that delves into some of the difficulties Cas might have after coming back from the Empty a second time, especially in regards to accepting what’s real or not, understanding Dean, and how both of their communication issues can add to their struggles. Painful but hopeful for the future, felt very believable as I read it.
#my fic recs#destiel recs#my destiel recs#ok that's it for right now#should be plenty to keep y'all busy for a bit
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
In Harm’s Way (M)
→ This story is a part of the @bangtanshadowfamily “The Creatures of Moonlight Manor” Halloween collab!
→ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
→ Word Count: 4.8k
→ Genre: grim reaper au, halloween au, smut, lots of fluff, bit angsty
→ Summary: After fighting with her grim reaper boyfriend, Y/N decides to throw herself into a dangerous situations to get him to stop ignoring her.
→ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide (it’s not dark, think of when bella tried to get edward to save her so she kept doing stupid shit - it’s that), one time mention of a past near-death experience (not detailed, it’s just vaguely mentioned in the fluffy part), reader attempts suicide via toaster bath (with the intention of being saved by her supernatural, soul-reaping boyfriend). Please don’t read if these make you uncomfortable!
→ Warnings: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral (female), bit of impregnation kink, tae just wants to be a dad, reader makes stupid decisions, cum play, possible impregnation?, sex with pants on, fingering, lots of fluff and all that good stuff
→ A/N: Hello hello! Finally found the time to squeeze in this story in the middle of my full-time school and part-time work schedule. Sorry it took so long for another fic to post but here I am! I want to thank my amazing bangtan hq sprinting crew who helped motivate me to finish this @purpletigertaetae @nightowls388 @shadowsremedy @wwilloww. This story was supposed to be a lot darker and a whole lot more filthy than it turned out. Wasn’t supposed to be fluffy at all and somehow it turned real quick so I hope you enjoy. I’d also like to state that I’m not promoting suicide or slightly toxic relationships, this is a fictional story and the reader hasn’t died, isn’t dead, and won’t die, so the suicidal scene in this is not meant to be disturbing. If you’re not comfortable reading, please don’t. Alright, I love you all.~ Hope you enjoy.
The biggest struggle of dating Taehyung was that no guide, tutorial, or advice blog post could’ve prepared you for what it was going to be like to be in a relationship with him. I almost wished there were some sort of ‘how to’ on dating a grim reaper because no matter how much dating experience I had, being with him was like being in my first relationship again.
It was a little unconventional, sure. Date nights were always iffy since, apparently, reapers don’t need sleep and therefore are technically scheduled around the clock. Boy, there was nothing like us setting up a nice, stay-at-home dinner date when he’d suddenly kiss my cheek and disappear into thin air, only to come back a few minutes later and announce he’d taken another soul. I’ll be honest, it was a slight mood killer.
But aside from his job description, Tae was a kind person. He didn’t seem to know exactly how to deal with human emotions, as his kind were strictly prohibited from having human-reaper relations and never had the opportunity to learn from us. But just because he didn’t know what emotions were, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel them. He was a sensitive guy, too.
I remembered the first time he cried. We were watching Marley & Me and I cried at the end like any other sane human being. Tae didn’t cry at all, in fact, knowing I was sad made him sad enough to tear up, even more so when he couldn’t get me to stop. That memory was one of my favorites purely because it was too wholesome to forget: a grim reaper crying because a girl was sad that a dog died in a movie.
But like every other person in the world, not ever emotion was positive.
Being much older than I, Taehyung didn’t really have moments where he got angry to the point of exploding in a fit. There wasn’t a situation where he ever passed that threshold, at least, not in front of me. The feelings Tae couldn’t quite grasp were hurt and jealousy.
From his own words, he never loved anyone before me, and something I knew better than anyone was that jealousy and love were very closely intertwined.
The first year we dated, I tried explaining to him what jealousy was, that even I felt it too in an attempt to teach him that he didn’t need to act on it. It was safe to say that it didn’t really work.
Over four and a half into our relationship together and Taehyung still chose to disappear whenever we got into a small petty argument that involved him taking something out of context and then not wanting to talk about it like the century old being that he was.
In our most recent example, my best friend, Sam, called and told me that she was expecting her first baby. We cried a little and then spent the rest of the conversation talking about whose eyes they would have or which parent they would most resemble. Tae and I never talked about kids nor a future together, we just lived in every moment the two of us were given, so indulging on a new topic with Sam gave me the image of tiny Tae-Taes waddling across the wooden floor, matching their father’s bright, boxy grin as they giggled.
I made one comment - one! I told her how I’d love to have mini-Taehyungs running about the place and that I was so excited to meet her little Sam. Somehow, he took that and ran with it.
He didn’t bother letting me speak, pulling the usual disappearing act he always resorted to when he was upset and didn’t want to properly face his feelings in the moment. I thought it would pass like all the rest, but something changed.
Hours passed and he never came to check in on me. Days flew by and I hadn’t heard from him. I wanted for him to come by, swallowing my pride and shouting at the empty air in hopes he was listening, to no avail. Nothing worked.
After two weeks of being ignored and left without so much as a trace, I decided to do what any normal girl would do to seek out her boyfriend’s attention.
I needed to kill myself.
I didn’t want to die, by any means. Tae knew how close I’d come to death a few too many times, but if I was going to get his attention back on me, I needed to attempt something stupid. Not only did it have to be stupid, it also had to be believable. I needed to convince him that I was going to die and hope he’d rescue me just in time.
I knew it wasn’t a good plan to start off with but it was the only thing I could come up with to get him to focus on me. The only reason I even thought of such a stupid idea was because I knew he’d never let me actually die. He saved me once and I was willing to bet he’d save me again and this time my life was actually on the line.
All that being said, I’ll regurgitate that it wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had.
What if he’d decided to have someone else cover me? What if the one time he decided he didn’t want to see me again, he passed the job on to someone else and they just let it go?
I shivered with that thought fresh in my mind. To say I was scared was a gross understatement, the thought of all the ways this could go bad were enough to paralyze me with fear. There was only one reason I stood there in our master bathroom with a bath full of water and a toaster in my hands, already plugged in and ready for me to drop it in.
If I wanted him to talk to me, I had to force him to keep me out of harm’s way.
Nervousness nagged at the back of my mind, heart beating a million miles a minute against my ribcage, forcing me to take a deep inhale of fresh air, even if it was only to calm my nerves for a few seconds. A few seconds was enough to release my grip and pray that Tae would be there to rescue me.
With a last shake of my head, I thought up a quick “I love you” to the universe as if the universe would deliver my message to my friends and family if things didn’t go as planned. And with that, I dropped the small appliance.
The moment it slipped from my fingers, I clenched my eyes tight and waited for the shock to ripple through my body in powerful waves, but nothing came. In fact, time itself seemed to slow down as a large clanging against the wall forced my eyes open, right as a tall, dark figure wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me out of the tub to press me against the wall adjacent.
Taehyung stood there, fuming in anger as his gaze bored into mine, hands gripping tightly to me and keeping me pressed against the wall, though I’m not sure if he was holding onto me to keep me steady or if he was preparing to murder me where I stood. To be fair, if it wasn’t for his hold on me, I would’ve slipped against the tile floor that puddled with the water leaking from the bottom half of my jeans. I added a mental note to myself that next time I do something like that again, I should prepare for it to actually work and actually wear a pair of shorts or something. But another problem for another time.
The sheer force in which Taehyung’s eyes glared into mine would normally have made me cower. But knowing I had to do something that stupid just to get him to talk to me again filled me with a burning anger that I didn’t know I had within me. With that newfound anger, I pushed back against his chest, my hands rebounding off his chest without moving him in the slightest. He dropped his hold on me and I stepped forward, my foot catching a slippery tile and making me bang my back against the wall roughly. A sharp pain shot through my back and Tae softened for a moment, reaching out again to steady me before I finally exploded.
“No. Don’t touch me! I don’t even know where to begin right now!” I defiantly shoved his hands away from my body and crossed my arms over my chest once I balanced out a bit.
“You? You?! The fuck did I do?” He argued, waving his hands in the air as if his gestures were defence enough for his stupid inhuman reactions.
“Oh, so you’re going to play stupid now, is that it? Really?” I barked, taking a step forward and poking a finger right against his tight chest. “I don’t know. How about the fact that you just walked out on me and never came back? What happened to having a normal fucking conversation like an adult?” He received a poke to his clothed peck with every word to emphasize what he’d done wrong.
Annoyed with me prodding at him in frustration, he grabbed my wrist at my last poke, holding my arm away from him and resumed the glaring. “You’re making this about me now? Are you going to completely ignore the fact that you almost just fried yourself? What the fuck were you thinking?!” He raised his voice, something he didn’t do often, and I naturally shied away from the loudness of his voice to keep my ears from ringing.
“Well I wouldn't have needed to do that had you come back to talk! Of course I tried to get your attention. I love you, you fucking moron,” I grunted, voice cracking at the end as tears instantly sprang to my eyes. Willing them away, I stood my ground and met Tae’s heated gaze with an unwavering one of my own. I wasn’t the one in the wrong.
“We did talk. Yeah I left, but I did that after I said things weren’t going to work out between us.”
He wasn’t wrong. He did technically say that but it was spoken like a passive statement made in anger, a second before he disappeared to wherever the fuck he went to whenever he was upset with me. So I was just supposed to accept that was it after four and a half years and no idea what broke the two of us. Fuck that, he meant too much to me.
“I don’t understand why you keep saying that. I made one comment - one! - about kids to Sam and now you’re dead-set on not being with me? Why are you so angry about that?” My words came out in a pained whisper as I pleaded with him. I just wanted a response back, to know what was hurting him so I could try and fix it.
His eyes shifted from mine repetitively, searching my face for something before he mumbled out, “Because I can’t give that to you.”
I froze, all but my heart coming to a halt as I processed his words. He couldn’t give that to me… Kids?
I couldn’t help the frown that framed my lips as his face morphed into one of discomfort, grimacing at himself. A pang of guilt smacked me right in the chest as his face fell. All of it began to make sense and I wasn’t sure if I made things better or worse by doing what I did.
“Tae…” I started, mouth agape as I tried to form some sort of response but I couldn’t think of one at that moment.
He straightened himself out and all visible evidence of his emotional expression was wiped clean off his features. “I can’t give you kids,” he repeated clearly, seemingly more for himself than for me.
Pride swelled up in me and I reached out to wrap my arms around his midsection to hug him close.
“Baby,” I cooed, a fresh wave of tears threatening to soak into his soft cotton shirt as I smothered my face against him, taking in his scent and his warmth. He returned the embrace, tightly hugging me back with his nose buried atop my head.
“You’re not mad at me,” he mumbled thoughtfully.
I shook my head against him, squeezing him that much tighter to reassure him. “I figured it wasn’t biologically possible, but there are plenty of ways for couples to have kids when they otherwise can’t themselves.”
I imagined his brows furrowing as he turned his head, resting the side of his plump cheek on top of my hair. “I don’t understand.”
Pulling back, I tilted my head to look him in the eyes and smiled supportively. Our kids don’t have to look like either of us to be ‘little Taehyungs’ or little ‘Y/Ns’.” I leaned back further and pressed my chin against the center of his chest, humming as he readjusted his embrace around me. “I’ll see you in the way they smile or laugh, all those little idiosyncrasies they pick up from you that make them you kids.”
Tae blinked with a blank expression on his face, staring me down without so much as a response to follow up. The longer he went without responding, the stronger my heart pounded in my chest.
We never had any serious talks like that before because everything about our relationship was too complicated. Marriage and families weren’t even on our mind, at least not on mine until Sam was getting her own, and suddenly I realized how I’d love to have a family with Taehyung, no matter how unconventional. But there’s a chance that could’ve just been me. Maybe it was too early to be talking about that so Tae didn’t really have an opinion since he couldn’t have kids. Maybe he was trying not to hurt my feelings? God, I broke him.
I cleared my throat and opening my mouth to talk when he cut me off. “So you’re not mad that I…. you’re okay with it?”
“Of course I’m okay with it. Sure, I’m a teenie but sad they probably won’t have your boxy grin or your cute little nose freckle, but our kids would be cute regardless.” The anxiety I had towards his response was no longer a thought in my mind as I suddenly grinned, punctuating my statement with a kiss on his chin, which he playfully returned. But he didn’t stop there. Strong hands gripped the back of my thighs and urged me to jump, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist as he pushed us up against the wall once more, chaste kisses littered across the length of my face. Each peck tickled, giggles pouring past my lips as I scrunched my nose up and took all the comfort he gave. Lips trailed down my neck before he buried his face in the crook of my collarbone, happily sighing against ym skin with a happy hum.
The smile on my lips pinched at my cheeks, making my face ache with the strength of my happiness alone. I never knew he’d have such a human response to something like kids. It made my heart flutter to know that’s where his heart and mind were, that he wasn’t actually mad at me.
With determination, he pushed us off of the bathroom wall and opened the door to our shared bedroom, carrying me to the bed where he motioned to put me down.
“Babe, my pants are still wet,” I reminded him, to which he nodded and set me down a foot or so away to stand in front of him.
“Well, we’re going to solve that,” he quipped, reaching down between us to fumble with the button and zipper on my jeans while I grinned up at him. It wasn’t what I had in mind when planning this out but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.
He had a few issues with the clasping mechanics of my pants, a regular issue he was faced with, and grunted in irritation. I giggled, brushing back the long strands of hair behind his ear before a loud ripping sound pulled my attention.
“Baby! These are my favorite jeans!” I screeched at Taehyung, lips pouting as I admired the fresh rip down the center of the jeans that paralleled the zipper. You know, the zipper he could’ve just undone.
Lips pressed to my forehead as a chuckle rippled through his chest. “Not anymore, they’re not.” He meant it to tease but I still glared at him, not finding it in me to laugh at the expense of my favorite pair of jeans. “Sorry, I’ll buy you new ones,” he offered in a light-hearted tone, making me roll my eyes and return the kiss to his chin.
Lean fingers dipped into the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down my hips until they passed the curve of my ass. But the material from the thigh down was still sopping wet and made it even more entertaining to watch him struggle to slide the denim down my legs, coaxing another giggle from me.
“Fuck, why is this so difficult?” Tae let out a soft groan, giving up on his quest of removing the wet article and instead closing the distance between us, lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.
“What about my pants? Not going to rip them all the way?” I wriggled my eyebrows and laughed when he rolled his eyes back.
“Pants or no pants, I’m still fucking you into the mattress.” His voice dripped with heat, his tone comparing to sex itself, sensual and deep, which made the words shoot straight down to my core.
As promised, he stalked towards me until the back of my knees pressed up against the edge of the bed. He didn’t miss a beat, cupping my face with his large palms and pulling me into a deep kiss that took away what little breath I had after his sexy statement. His tongue skimmed over the seam of my mouth, canines digging into the flesh of my bottom lip as he gave me that final push back onto the bed, lowering me down with a steady hold on my back until I was flush against the mattress with him hovering above me. Mouths lavished over one another, pulling the other into each other as far as our bodies would let us until the lack of oxygen forced me to pull away for a moment.
I wasted no time in pulling the white shirt from his black dress slacks, untucking his usual orderly work clothes so I could dip my hand under the smooth material to feel his bare warmth against my fingers. Each little divot and bulge across his stomach only added to the arousal gathering between my legs, allowing my fingers to explore the clothed spaced with the image of him naked on my mind.
The thought of that alone drove me mad, thighs instinctively rubbing together to relieve some of the pent up pressure. But doing so only reminded me of the pants I still had clinging to the lower part of my legs, the tight and uncomfortable sticky feeling causing a slight bubble of irritation to well up within me.
“Bab-” I started, cut off by Tae’s lips roughly soothing over mine with a kiss deeper than the one before it. It was his mission to explore my mouth, delving deep inside to slide his tongue along mine in a dance for passion, not power. There was no struggle in the kiss, which was different - a good different that made my heart beat just a little bit harder for him.
“Sh, ignore the pants,” Taehyung whispered against my lips and I had to force down the eyeroll that almost surfaced at such a dismissive response.
As I was about to protest further, Tae parted from the kiss and pushed himself from the bed, kneeling down on the floor and pushing my legs up until they tucked up to my chest to expose my clothed core for his eyes to feast on. The tip of his tongue swiped across his lips before he dove down, pushing my panties out of the way to dip a finger shallowly into my sopping heat. I moaned softly, holding onto my ruined jeans with one hand and sneaking the other around to his head, intertwining my fingers in his soft, chestnut locks.
Without warning, Tae pushed his finger in to the knuckle and lowered his head to hungrily lap at my clip over my already soaked underwear, ripping a moan forcefully from my throat. He moaned in return, any noise that left my mouth only adding to his determination to work me up and get me as wet as inhumanly possible. He sped up his pace, curling the tip of his finger to stroke the pad of his fingertip along the rough patch at the top, the spot that made my mind go blank and left me a mumbling mess for him to please. He always knew how to hit the right place, each and every time together was spent as a new learning experience for him to map out and worship my body as I did his.
A few pumps later, Tae placed a sloppy, wet kiss along the inside of my thigh before adding a finger to the one already thrusting into my cunt at a moderate pace. The stretch burned despite how slender his fingers were, always filling me up nicely. Brushing against a particular spot deep within me, I was left gasping for air, tugging the strands at the top of his head as I attempted to buck my hips against his hand to meet each of his thrusts, my sopping pussy tembling around his fingers.
“Fuck, baby. You always take me so fucking well,” he praised, leaving a few stray kisses along my thigh to accompany the faster pace he’d set, working his fingers into me as if he could do it all fucking night long.
“Mmh, Tae,” I groaned, abandoning the grip on my legs to ground myself against the duvet underneath.
“What, baby? What do you want?” Rougher kisses were pressed into the length of my thigh and along my wet mound, tongue practically dancing everywhere but my clit to tease me.
“Tae-Tae, I want you in me. Please.”
Despite the urgency in my request, Tae peeked around my legs with a softened look, eyes kind as his body smile outshines the gloss of arousal painting his lips and chin.
“Yeah? Where do you want me, baby? Here?” He asked with a slide of his fingers across my g-spot, causing my thighs to quake as I fought off the softest hint of an orgasm. I nodded and begged him for his cock while he rubbed the remainder of my slick from his face and onto his sleeve, towering over me once again as he climbed up the bed once again, having stripped himself of his clothes. The heat returned to his gaze as he devoured my body with his eyes, not needed for me to be naked in order to let his imagination run wild.
Leaving a soft kiss against my lips, he pushed back to sit on his knees and lifted my legs up until my feet rested against the top of his shoulder. The position we were in gave him the perfect view of my ruined panties, his eyes lit up with a heat unlike anything I’d ever seen from him before as he traced the material with his fingertip.
“You want me to fuck a baby into you?” He asked, fighting the blush that creeped up his neck and into his ears as he stayed locked onto my clothed pussy.
His words made me giddy, the thought of him fucking me and getting me pregnant with his child adding fuel to our very passionate fire. “Please, I want your baby, Tae,” I whined. He dragged his cockhead against my clothed core, earning a grunt from us both. With a push of my panties to the side and a gentle rock of his hips against my own, the entirety of his cock slid into me, walls protested the stretch his thick girth gave despite the prep, drawing a synchronized moan from us.
“Oh fuck, babe,” I groaned, fisting the sheets beneath me as his grip aropund my legs tightened. He stilled when the last inch of his cock sank into me, the tremble in his breath telling me he felt the tightness in this position too. Without warning, he dragged his hips back, exposing everything but the tip of his cock before he quickly thrusted back in.
He continued his languid pace while pressing open kisses to my foot just beneath the hem of the jeans, nails raking against the flesh of my thigh before his eyes flickered down to me.
I gasped when he adjusted the angle of his hips and targeted my g-spot without miss, setting a punishing pace with his hips as he suddenly drove his cock into me roughly. I moaned out, teeth capturing my bottom lip to contain the sounds his actions were tearing from my throat.
With a grunt, Tae switched our positions, lowering himself down until his shoulders nestled in the hollow of my knees, face ducking down to pull my lips into a kiss as he resumed his powerful thrusts into my aching pussy.
The new position had every part of my body humming in happiness, the surface of my flesh tingling with each thrust he gave until my eyes shut. Our lips danced together, tongues stealing tastes of one another as the little sounds we made were muted by the other. I fisted a hand in his sweaty hair, using the brunette strands to ground me against his assault against my hips. I tried to meet his thrusts, but the awkward position left me lying there, unable to move, as I took his cock as he gave it.
I tightened around him, loving the way I felt every ridge of his thick length as it disappeared from my cunt and pushed back inside to hit me in all the right places. After so many thrusts against that spot deep within me, a pressure built up in my lower stomach that burned, growing in size with each pump of his cock until I whined, needing pressure on my clit to push me over that final edge.
Knowing exactly what I wanted, he snuck a hand between us and used the slick on my thighs to wet his thumb before swiping rigorously against my sensitive clit. I mewled in pleasure at the contact, throwing my head back and parting our lips as loud whines and moans leaked from my mouth. It was almost too much, the combination of his hand and his cock throwing me over the edge faster than I could ever get myself off, pushing me over that ledge and into my orgasm.
I mumbled incoherently as my spasming cunt only drove Taehyung to ride out into his own orgasm, continuing his brutal pace until his cock twitched and stilled inside me, filling me to the brim with his seed.
We stayed that way for a few minutes, taking the time to catch our breaths and return to reality. My body protested him pulling his limp cock from my oversensitive hole, making me grimace. When he pulled back and released my legs from his grip, I groaned at the stiffness in my legs from being in that position for a while, but completely forgot about that as goosebumps fluttered over my skin and brought my attention back down to the soaked jeans I still had on my body.
Taehyung noticed my shivering and gave a small laugh, deciding to help me out and finally rip each of the legs until the material wasn’t too tight to remove. Sticking to the stripping, I took off my top and unclasped my bra, flinging both across the room to deal with later as Tae stood at the edge of our bed, between my legs. His eyes locked onto the cum dripping from my pussy and he couldn’t contain a grin as he reached forward and swiped a drop up onto his finger to push it back inside of me.
“Well, at least we’ll know for sure,” Tae murmured to himself.
“Hm?” I hummed, reaching out with grabby hands for him to come join me on the bed, which he did with a soft smile and a peck to the nose.
“I’ve always assumed we can’t have kids. I guess now we’ll figure out whether I was right or wrong.”
#creaturesofmm#btsbookclub#bangtanhq#ksmutclub#ficswithluv#bangtanarmynet#bangtanuniversity#bts smut#taehyung smut#grim reaper au#halloween au#collab
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
To Infinity And Beyond - Chris Evans x reader
a/n - hey lovely people!! i thought of this when we found out chris is doing lightyear (which i am so happy about omg) and i just really wanted to write it:) also you can see it as my way to make up for the angsty ending of rumor has it lol. also the gif definitely isn’t how i imagened him in the fic i just thought it was nice since he’s voice acting. hope you enjoy and as always feedback is super appreciated<3
Summary: you meet a mysterious strager in your new voice acting job in a pixar movie, but you can swear you knew him from somewhere, if you could just figure out where...
Warnings: this is happening during covid-19, also any and all romantic attraction in this fic is towards chris and NOT buzz, y’all be wildin but it ain’t me, there’s very clear separation between character and actor i promise lol
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you were a voice actor for a few years now
you only had pretty minor jobs by now, some small tv shows, a movie for a small studio
but apparently luck was on your side
you scored the most epic gig ever - Disney!!
you were so excited, disney movies being a part of your childhood and your life
disney was basically a synonym for “happy” for you, and you were indeed ecstatic to work with them
you were voicing the love interest in a new toy story movie, one that was depicting the story of the person buzz lightyear from toy story
so naturally, you brought your friends over to have a toy story marathon to tell them the news
they were just as excited as you were, if not more
you were supposed to meet your costars before the film, but because of covid they wanted to minimize the contact between you all, meaning you had virtually no idea who they were, since no one was officially announced to the public yet
your first day on the job, you came a little early, wanting to affirm the faith that was put in you when they cast you
you were told to wait on a couch outside for a couple of minutes until the actor before you finished
you wanted to ask who was it, but before you could the assistant who ushered you in was already going somewhere else and you didn’t want to bother them
after a few minutes, you saw a man leave the recording studio, his mask on his face
you could’ve sworn he looked familiar, but more importantly
damn
he looked really good, even with a mask
but you didn’t have the time to think about it as he left quickly and you were called inside
you made small talk with the producer for a bit before getting to business, doing a couple takes of each scene and then you were told it’s okay to go
a few days later, when you came in they told you they already have some stuff from buzz, so you were going to do your scenes and hear what he was saying
at first you were glad, because it’s easier to talk when you’re “talking to someone”
but then you realized it was an unwelcome distraction
his voice was so familiar, and you just couldn’t place it for the life of you
you had tried to do a few takes, but each time you got distracted thinking you figured it out and then realizing that’s probably untrue
at the end of your session you apologized
“sorry guys, i’m a little tired today”
they said it was no problem and just to come more focused tomorrow, and off you went
on your way out, you bumped into the man you had seen your first day
like, physically bumped
“sorry,” you smiled through your mask, hoping he’d understand it
he simply waved you off and quickly went upstairs to the studio
oh well, maybe he was late
at any case, as you walked home you realized you could’ve just asked who was voicing buzz and resisted the urge to facepalm since you were in public, thinking you’d ask once the weekend was over
but you didn’t get the chance to ask after all, seeing as they released the news over the weekend
“Chris Evans to voice Buzz Lightyear in new Pixar film”
your jaw dropped
obviously you knew who captain america was, and you were shocked you hadn’t recognized his voice
moreover, you realized you also didn’t recognize his face
this time you were in the comfort of your own home so you actually facepalmed
you had bumped into chris evans not once, but twice, and you didn’t recognize him
god, you were so embarrassed
the next day when you came to work you were greeted by the sight of chris leaving the studio just as you arrived
his mask was still on his chin, so that was the first time you properly saw him
and oh my god was it worth the wait
“Hi,” you smiled at him
“hey,” he smiled back
“I’m probably gonna be a little late, but it’s really nice to officially meet you,” you said
you didn’t know what to do next, but thankfully he extended his hand for a handshake
“you too,” he smiled
“listen, i don’t wanna keep you too long, but can i maybe have your phone number? so we can actually get to know each other,” he chuckled
“yeah, sure,” you smiled
ohmygod chris evans just asked for my number
over the next few weeks you had seen chris a handful of times while one of you was leaving the studio, but you didn’t have much time to talk
until one day, when chris asked you this question:
“do you wanna get something to eat sometimes?”
your brain short-circuited for a good minute
“it’s just so weird being in a movie and not knowing your castmates,” he added
“yeah, i totally get it. i’d love to get something to eat,” you said, his words shaking you from your reverie
“great,” he smiled, “so, uh, i’ll text you”
“sure,” you smiled back
and true to his word, a few days later the both of you went out to a restaurant that had an outside sitting space to eat
when your food arrived you took off your mask and took a bite
“hmmm, this place is rea-”
the words got stuck in your throat as you looked at chris and saw him looking at you with a smile
“what’s wrong, is there something on my face?”
“no,” he quickly assured you, “no, it’s just that it’s even prettier than i imagined. your face, i mean,” he chuckled and looked down at his food
“thanks,” you giggled looking back down at your plate
“so, how come you’re doing this project anyways?” you asked. “i mean, i’ve never known you as a voice actor. i mean, i never really knew you at all until now but you get it,” you chuckled
“yeah,” he smiled, “well, i’ve always really loved disney. like, when i was a kid i really wanted to work there when i was older, so when the opportunity presented itself obviously i took it. young me would’ve beat my ass if i didn’t,” he chuckled.
“that’s so sweet,” you grinned
you talked about your work for a while, some cool scenes you both got to watch, but the conversation got more and more personal as the night progressed, as talking about your favorite disney movies turned into talking about your families and your childhood
talking to him was easy, and you didn’t even feel the time passing until you realized you should probably get out of the restaurant before they kick you out
not that they would kick chris evans out, but you know, manners are important
you offered to split the bill, but chris wouldn’t have it
“c’mon chris, it’s not like this is a date,” you chuckled
a silence settled over the two of you for a moment as you both contemplated what you just said
“what if i wanted it to be, would you allow that?” he smiled after a few moments
“that depends,” you smiled, “are you asking because you want me to let you pay?”
“ah, you got me,” he raised his arms, “but that’s just a part of it. i’m actually asking because i wanna know. for future reference, so i'll know when i ask you out again to ask you to go somewhere you don’t need to pay because you’re so stubborn,” he smiled softly
“alright, i guess you can pay,” you rolled your eyes with a smile, unable to fight the grin rising on your face
“and i’d love to go out again,” you said
don’t worry, you ended up going out again
that’s just a story for another time;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i feel like this was probably cuter in my head but i hope you enjoyed!!
Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12
if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3
#chris evans x reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x you#chris evans fluff#chris evans imagine#chris evans fic
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay so I just realised it’s 4:40am ... (I’m nowhere near finished and it’s 5:50am)
Anyway. So I’ve got some of my favourites here for anyone who decided to come and join me :P these are in no particular order by the way :,)
A Pair of Idiots in Love
Words: 71,190 Works:7
Series summary: a bunch of really really cute (and slightly smutty) shorts about Harry and Louis and them living life to the fullest... in lockdown.
Note: I absolutely love this series, I think I’ve read it fifteen times over and it never gets boring. The balance of fluff and smut is so just *cheffs kiss*. I’m yet to read the seventh short actually, but I can’t wait to do so. I’d definitely recommend it to anyone who loves fluff (and smut) as much as me :)
Tags: I mean it’s a series so there are so many tags, I feel really bad for not putting them on here but it takes me ages. Anyway. There’s a lot of smut and a lot of fluff, some jealousy, petty fighting and just like tooth-rotting amounts of fluff but I’ve already said that :)
https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056104
Your mess is mine
Words:176723 Chapters:20/20
Summary: Louis is the father to the most brilliant little boy in the world who is all Louis really needs, or at least that's what he tells himself. Harry is a gorgeous boybander fresh off a two year break and a massive scandal that's left him a little broken and more than ready to move on. They fall in love.
Note: THIS NGKSKWKRKW SORRY MY GAY IS SHOWING BUT I CANT. I have a thing for single dad fics idk but it was just so p e r f e c t. You know? And like- ugh just- I’m gonna go read it again. ALSO NOAH IS THE CUTEST THING EVER PLEASE.
On a serious note however, I was really hesitant to read this at first. I hate angsty fics and scandals just scream sadness but honestly? You’d be slightly stupid not to read it. I loved it so much and god the angst is so little you barely even notice it!! Really would recommend to literally anyone.
Tags: Kid Fic, Famous Harry, Ordinary Louis, Fluff and Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Past Drug Use, Single Dad, Louis Falling In Love, Non-Famous Louis, Friends to Lovers, Journalist Louis, Family Fluff, Pet Names, an abundance of pet names
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426800/chapters/7508540
Through Eerie Chaos
Words:102,104 Chapters:5/5
Summary: The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.
Note: WHEN I TELL YOU THERE WERE TEARS.
God this fic- I sobbed through most of it I’m not going to lie. I am telling you all it was so worth it because the ending had me crying happy tears but g o d UGH I REALLY CANT IT IS SO GOOD
Tags: Alternate Universe-Ghost Hunters, Ghost Hunters Alternate Universe, Fantasy Alternate Universe, Historical Alternate Universe, 1920s Aristocracy, Haunted Houses, Haunted Manor, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Investigation, Historical Inaccuracy, Typical Homophobia, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, liam Ghost, Aristocrat Louis Tomlinson, Photographer Harry Styles, Ghost Hunter Niall Horan, Librarian Zayn Malik
https://archiveofourown.org/works/10875072/chapters/24160332 - JUST QUICKLY!! IM SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE BUT YOU NEED AN AO3 ACCOUNT :(- if anyone can’t get one I’ll be happy to help sort something out!!
knock knock, i love you
Words: 86,066 Chapters: 4/4
Summary: Harry and Louis get kicked out of a statistics exam for passing a knock knock joke note, and subsequently fall in love. Harry's a virgin, there's a cat, a hot cocoa date, a lot of sex, even more knock knock jokes, and everything is lovely and happy.
Notes: I think we’re getting a theme here but this fic was so absolutely unbelievably fluffy I cried from a sweetness overload more than once. It is quite literally a vanilla fic at its finest and I am honest to god in love with it. Anyone who likes a lot of smut would love this and there was nothing overly kinky in there so yeah :,D
Tags: fluff, Alternate Universe aCollege/University, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, First Time, Rimming, Dirty Talk, Banter, Knock-Knock Jokes, No Angst, Virgin Harry, Bottom Harry, Hot Cocoa, Date, Spooning, Come play, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Halloween, a cat named Sushi, Masturbation, Flirting
https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342227/chapters/19110898
driving instructor fic
Words: 104,935 works: 2
Summary: the AU where Louis is a 25-year-old driving instructor and Harry is a 17-year-old virgin who's really awful at seduction, except for the time he gets Louis to fall for him and fuck him senseless and take him on kinky adventures.
Note: THIS WAS SOME KINKY SHIT AND I HAD TO STEAL EVERYONES HOLY WATER TO MAKE MYSELF FEEL BETTER. I admittedly didn’t read the second part because I’m not really one for threesomes, not really my thing lmao but THE FIRST PART... I was on the edge of my bed for the entire thing because of the constant t e n s i o n. It was just amazingly written and I fell in love with it :]
Tags: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, side Zayn/Perrie, side Niall/BARBARA PALVIN YES, Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Perrie Edwards, 17!Harry/25!Louis, age gap, dom!Louis/sub!Harry, Daddy Kink, Virgin Kink, Bondage, breath play, Exhibitionism, collaring, Sex Toys, Barebacking, Overstimulation Orgasm Denial, Subspace, Kink ,Negotiation, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Possessiveness, Facials Marking
P.s. reading over the tags now.. fookin hell I don’t remember it being that bad gnjejejq I swear (this is what I get for not reading the tags lmao)
https://archiveofourown.org/series/86149
Crave
Words: 90,765 Chapters:11/11
Summary: All eyes are on Louis Tomlinson to bring new talent to save Hanover Records from the mess the previous executive left behind. His newest artist, Harry Styles, is charismatic and everything Louis needs to revive the label. It’s up to Louis and his team to make Harry the star he was born to be. When Harry and Louis come face to face, it isn’t the first time they’ve met, and their worlds are about to be turned upside down.
Note: so I often get this mixed up with another on this list (walk on the ocean) but I think that’s just because of how they first meet? Maybe.. I’m not sure. But anyway. What I’m trying to say is that these two are probably my favourite two which is absolutely bonkers considering the slight angst in both of them (if y’all hadn’t already picked up, I hate angsty fics) but g o d it’s so g o o d. And like- UGH THE ENDING NFKSKRJRW
Tags: Strangers, BDSMDom/sub, Bondage, CEO Louis, Musician Harry, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, mentions of Simon Cowell, Daddy Kink, Sub Harry, Dom Louis, Kink Negotiation, Friends With Benefits, Nipple Play, Nipple Clamps, Sexting, Phone Sex, Cock Rings, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Sex, Face-Fucking, Spanking, Riding, Top Louis, Top Harry, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Multiple Orgasms, Begging, Handcuffs, Panties, Collars, Barebacking, Butt Plugs, Anal Fingering, Biting, Painplay, Aftercare, Subspace, Subdrop, Hair-pulling, Light Angst, Switching, Rope Bondage, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Sex Club, Kink Discovery, Kink Exploration, Dirty Talk, Happy Ending, Blindfolds, Teasing, Feathers & Featherplay, Spreader Bars, Coming Untouched ... so I didn’t realise the stuff I read was this bad h a
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12951438/chapters/29604861
walk on the ocean
Words:26,099 Chapters:5/5
Summary: Harry is an on the rise rock star. Louis is as far from the music scene as a famous producer's son can get. They meet and everything changes.
Note: again, I was really hesitant to read this one, I feel the summary doesn’t do it justice. The fic itself left me gobsmacked for the rest of the day, it was just written so well, it’s hard not to like [love]. It’s nowhere near as kinky as “crave” but it has its moments. I think that the angst got me a bit, but I didn’t shed too many tears and all in all it was just such a good read.
Tags: Surfer!Louis, Singer Harry, Louis has daddy issues, Minor Character Death, a wee bit of angst, Smut, Bottom Louis, Top Harry, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, the ocean
I also love this person right now because there aren’t that many tags :,,)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969168/chapters/18228733
Bite My Lip and Close My Eyes (Take Me Away to Paradise)
Words:3,937 Chapters:1/1
Summary: Or the one where Harry goes on the date from hell only to return home to find he’s not alone in his desire to wank over his room mate
Note: now it wouldn’t be a favourite list without the one very e x t r e m e l y shameful wank fic in there. Honestly there’s not much to say. It’s written really well and that’s that :). Not really because it’s kinky asf and I’m dying
Tags: Friends to Lovers, Roommates, 19 years old Harry, 21 years old Louis, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism
We’re What’s Right In This World
Words: 48,809 Chapters: 16/16
Summary: Or the World War II AU where Harry goes off to fight and all Louis wants to do is be the boy who brings him home.
Note: I DIDNT WANT TO READ THIS. THEN I DID. I CRIED A LOT. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. I CRIED A LOT MORE. IT WAS SAD. IT WAS EVEN MORE SAD. THEN IT STARTED GETTING BETTER. THEN IT WASNT BETTER AND IT WAS SAD AGAIN. But it’s fine because the ending was so prefect it fixed my heart to a point of which I watched all of my sad Larry tiktoks without crying once :) (or maybe it broke me.. I’m not sure)
Tags: World War II, Alternate Universe - Historical, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind Louis, Soldier Harry, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Period-Typical Homophobia
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12211689/chapters/27734604
Okay I’m going to leave it there for now. It’s just gone six in the morning and I’m yet to go to sleep. My asks are always open and I’d love a chat if anyone wants one!! Remember to treat people with kindness. xx
#larry af#ao3 feed larry#larry stylinson#harry styles#louis tomilson#long reads#fanfic#fanfiction#one direction#larry shippers#larry styles#larry fanfic rec#larry fanfiction#larry stylinson fic#larry stylinson fanfiction
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
IT’S MUSIC TIME MY GOONIES PT. 3
FT. MY YOUTUBE PLAYLIST
hehe, so i have been wanting to do one of these again for a while now, so here we are! but instead, we’re doing my youtube playlist, which has all the slowed, sadder versions of songs that i like. yes, i like sad songs, oops :P. ballads have always been my jam, probably always will be so, here are some songs from my playlist! once again, putting the playlist on shuffle and just going with the flow besides the occasional skip lol :P
people i feel like would like to see this: @loth-wolffe @weirdcharacter @ladykatakuri @ahsokasleftbicep
———
happier by olivia rodrigo but it’s ten times sadder
by wisterxiaa
i love slowed versions of songs, that is like the way to my heart lol 😂 this is really nice, her voice sounds really cool slowed down like this. the electric guitar in like the middle sounds so cool omgg. is it sad? yeah, a little, but it’s really nice slowed down like this. most of the time, the titles say this in my playlist, but i just like the way it’s slowed lol 😂. the thumbnail is so pretty 9/10, love the purple and the monarch butterflies :) overall, recommend this song when your in the mood for some olivia rodrigo, but a tad bit sadder. AND THE OOH’S AT THE END HIT DIFFERENT OMGGGG AND SHE SOUNDS SO BROKEN AND SOFT AT THE END APOBIHJ[OADSIJB
everybody loves somebody - dean martin (slowed n reverb)
by starclouds
pretty sure i got this song from General Angsty (if i didn’t, apologizes), but this slowed down verison HITS THE SPOT. i love his voice in this slowed way, it is so interesting. also, it’s reverb? like? yes, please. the thumbnail is actually a GIF that is a fountain, it’s pretty cool, 7/10, also this makes me wanna sway with like Echo or something (actually now that i think of it, i’m pretty sure i got this from General Angsty’s dancing post with the boys, which made me so SoFt omg :)) overall, recommend listen to this when you wanna sway with your lover in like a dance club, but your nestled into their neck and your pulled so close and it’s warm in their embrace :) the instruments also are really nice in this verison.
Clair De Lune Ethereal Remix
by A.Krishna
IF ALL MUSIC SUDDENLY BECAME ETHEREAL ON YOUTUBE, I WOULD MOST LIKELY CRY. so i love ethereal remixes, there’s just something so… whimsical about ethereal remixes. this song is so pretty and beautiful on ethereal omgggGGGg. the thumbnail is beautiful 10000000/10. I just- this sounds like a song you would use as like a look back through your entire life, like every memory and moment just appearing as this song plays WOW. and when the piano climax’s in the midDLE OMGGGG it is INSANE, LIKE THE EMOTIONS THAT GO THROUGH MY BRAIN AOBIASDNB and then it gets super soft and quiet aaaahhhh CAN YOU TELL I LIKE ETHEREAL?? IDK IF YOU CAN 😂 anyways, overall recommend this song when your just watching the rain fall and reminiscing about good times in your life :)
heather - conan gray ( slowed + reverb)
by Vibey
okay definitely this song is sadder slowed, like THE FEELS OMGG but it’s amazing slowed, like the original is awesome, AND THEN THIS???!! so the thumbnail is a really pretty GIF of this VHS tape just playing, and it’s purple so 10/10. this definitely brings the raspy part of his voice, and i really like it (or that’s just the reverb lol 😂) only thing i do not like about this slowed version is it cuts off the end of the song at the end of the video, and I don’t know why, but it’s still really good, so i don’t mind too much :). it’s very pretty and sad all at the same time. overall, recommend listening to this song when your just chilling, staring up at the ceiling and your like “let’s be a puddle of sad for a sec”
Chiquitita(slowed+reverbed)💜
by Brown Aesthetic Syndrome
LIL’ SOKA, IT’S OUR SONG!! OUR SONG SLOWED AND REVERBED IS SO PRETTY, AND AWESOME!!! MKAY, SO THE THUMBNAIL IS COOL, 8/10, THE FLOWERS ARE PRETTY!! YES, I WILL BE SCREAMING ABOUT THIS SONG LOL 😂 THE PIANO SOUNDS SO PRETTY IN THIS, LIKE IT’S SO MUCH MORE BROUGHT OUT :))), AND THEIR VOICES SOUND SO PRETTY SLOWED!!! OH AND THE CHORUS ITS DIFFERENT OMGGGGG AOPBINAS[FDPOIBJOFIBOAFINBPOJ IT’S SO INSANE OMGGG AOIBAPDOFSKGN!! ANYWAYS RECOMMEND THIS SONG WHEN YOU ARE LIKE “I NEED ABBA VIBES, BUT SLOWED” ALBKNDSPFOBIN
billie eilish - my future - slowed dreamy reverb
by ayabe
so this song is incredible, like it slowed really hits different. billie’s voice has always been so interesting to me because sometimes she sings like very whisper like, and other times she is full on belting like going insane, and i really like that she uses her voice in multiple different ways during her songs. billie is the number one artist i go to when i really wanna be in the feels, and this verison of my future is so amazing. the beat is so interesting, and the thumbnail is really cool 9/10, also i don’t know what the language is nor, do i know what it says, so if you do, let me know lol 😂 but the picture is cool. this song is one i listen to all the time because it’s just- yes. overall recommend this song when your chilling in bed, just in the dark, with the window open on a summer night :)
friends on the other side - s l o w e d
by angelicsounds
THIS IS SO EPIC SLOWED OMGGGGG I CAN’T NOT EVEN EXPLAIN AOBPINADOPBNF I REALLY FEEL LIKE A SPOOKY DUDE WHO KNOWS HOW TO DO SOME SPOOKY STUFF OMGGG i love the original song, and i also really like the cover by annapantsu, definitely recommend her verison too! this has got to be the coolest disney villain song slowed down, hands down. the thumbnail is a GIF of this anime character’s eyes doing weird looking highlight stuff lol idk what to call it, 8/10. overall, recommend when you wanna listen to a song that makes you feel like the main villain in a story :) AND THE ENDING HITS DIFFERENT OMGGGGGGGG
le valse de l’amour - patrick doyle (slowed down)
by mari
okay, so we all know that I love Cinderella. and this song is so incredible, i can’t- okay, but just imagine… the bad batch, undercover at a senate ball, you, trying to make sure the senators are safe. the boys are in their separate locations, you know, watching, making sure everyone is good. some random dude from out of nowhere tries to make you dance with him. you are obviously like “um, what the heck, please no sir.” and suddenly…
“may i have this dance?”
it’s Hunter (or crosshair, but i’ve written a fic about Hunter dancing with the reader, so i feel like he would be a good dancer).
anyways, he whisks you away from random dude, and your like “Hunter there’s no music” because the orchestra just finished their previous song, and he’s like
“just wait.”
bam, this song comes on.
and suddenly, Hunter’s waltzing with you and you didn’t even know he could waltz. and it’s exactly like the scene from Cinderella 2015. So you two are doing your own thing in the middle of the ballroom, and everyone starts moving out of the way because woah these people are really good at dancing
and you are just shocked because HOW??
and he just leads you through the whole thing. he spins you around, and if your wearing a dress and it’s got some tulle on it, it swishes around when he spins you and oh my god the butterflies and smile he gets when you giggle because you love the way it swirls around you. and then people start backing up more, because at this rate, you guys are taking up the whole dance floor.
and you just keep going, and he starts pick you up and spinning you around when the harp comes on. and he grabs you by the waist and starts swinging you around just like Kit & Ella do in the movie. and then the end of the song comes, and he dips you, brings you back up, and that’s it.
and when it’s all said and done, you just look at him, and well, he obviously looks extremely handsome, his suit is all pressed, and his hair is done back in a bun, but he’s got a few wisps coming out from your whole little dancing experience, and all you can say is:
“I-”
“shhh, mesh’la. later. i’ll tell you later.”
anyways, thumbnail is a solid 11/10, and recommend if you wanna daydream about dancing at a senator ball with Hunter.
no i am not planning on writing a fic about this, what you you implying? okay, yes i am, i am. no shame 😂
sleeping beauty - once upon a dream (slowed + reverb)
by Paige Coddington
sleeping beauty is one of my favorite disney princesses besides rapunzel & cinderella, so i love this. The GIF is so pretty, 10/10. Aurora’s voice is pretty, and her vibrato is so much more prominent in this verison, and i am obsessed. this is so pretty, I- speechless, actually. and then philip comes in and it’s just ✨ also, i always like aurora in the pink dress when i was younger, but now i kind of like the blue dress more. they should have just given her a purple dress i guess lol 😂 overall, really pretty, recommend when you are in the mood for some more nostalgic disney vibes :)
D a n c i n g Q u e e n 女王
by v a p o r w a v e
okay so i originally found this on an edit of “the snap from avengers infinity war, but dancing queen” -
and when i tell you that the snap got even sadder, I-
anyways, i also really like vaporwave music, very interesting and very cool. i love the video because i’m pretty sure it’s the original music video, but it looks like your looking through a kaleidoscope, so 100000000/10. this song is so good vaporwave, like, just yes. like when i say this hits different, like for real, this hits different. ABBA is always good, but this by far has to be my favorite thing of ABBA music i have ever found. It’s like…
it’s just incredible.
like i said with the ethereal remix of clair de lune, this is like a song that you put on your life, and just look at all the memories and moments that have happened to you.
overall, recommend when you wanna just sit and think for awhile, or maybe make the snap from avengers infinity war sadder
———
and that’s it! i decided that i would just stick to 10, the other ones i have done are about 12, and i just thought it was a good number lol 😂 i hope you guys enjoy these as much as I do, and check out my pinned post to see them all linked on one post :)
lots of spells (& music listening),
moony
#music#music time my goonies#youtube#hope you enjoy ☺️#wolffe :)#general angsty ✨#lady kuri 😏#bicep ahsoka 😎🧡💙#you need a new nickname lil’soka#since i call you that now#lil’soka 💙🤍🧡🌼
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Content Tag Game
thank you @inkofyoongi for the tag and also bless you for the Poetica teaser I'm crying already!!! Yoongi and y/n kissing oh my heart.
1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?
Harry Potter and Attack on Titan
2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?
BTS
3. how long have you been writing?
Writing online, I wrote HP ff when I was a preteen. Oh god it was horrible, it was a lot of silly meme worthy stuff, but that was half the fun in the HP fandom back in the day, then years later I tried to write one AOT ff and it did not do well lol, I think I maybe got two comments one of them being really mean lol and I gave up and left my story unfinished and moved on from ff (funnily enough I based a scene in one of my HOAL chapters off of it and no complaints so ha!...lol.) Then a friend bought me a dream journal, and I fell back in love with writing again after HOAL 🥰
4. on which platforms do you post your stories?
I have a Wattpad and I just created an Ao3 to crosspost.
5. what is your favourite genre to write?
Angst, I guess I am just a masochist.
6. are you a pantser or a planner?
Well I am definitely not a planner, so I guess I'm a pantser lol. I rather just write the story instead of planning. I vaguely know the endings, the problem is most of my stories start out as dreams, and what usually happens in dreams??? That's right, you wake up BEFORE the ending. So then I have the arduous task of figuring out what else is supposed to happen lol, I feel like if I just write it out it will somehow magically come together in the end, planning is unnecessary stress I don't need lol.
7. one shot or multi-chapter?
You know I really admire one shot writers, but I am just not built like that...
8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?
I would say as a writer and what I also prefer reading, between 6k and 10k is the sweet spot.
9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?
Handshakes of a Lifetime is almost at 55k words 👀 and I would say it's half way done?
10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?
I really love writing HOAL, some of the chapters were very therapeutic to write 🥲. During the beginning chapters I was going through a lot of chronic pain and there were long stretches where I was so engrossed I forgot about the pain which if you've ever suffered from chronic illness, is like finding a raft in the middle of the ocean. But also Run Run Run made me hysterically laugh for hours (the visuals in my head are something else man), I already know I am going to have so much fun finishing that story.
11. favourite request you’ve written and why?
I don’t take requests, however there have been times when I requested myself to write lol. Instead of word vomiting all over my blog and oversharing to you guys who probably do not want to listen to my ugly problems, I said, hey, why not just take all that pain and channel it into a story instead? Because that's why people follow me after all and I'm a woman of the people lol, and that's how Blue and Grey was written. It's short and simple, and it's one of my favorite stories I've ever written.
12. are there reocurring themes in your stories?
Hmmm pain lol, whether it be pleasurable pain or not lol. Again, my stories start out as dreams, so they are pretty random. I do notice there's a lot of “escaping”, that might just be a dream thing idk.
13. current number of wips?
HOAL, C!HOC, RRR, BV:ITS, a cross over fandom story I am so excited for and will write before the year is up (I just somehow need to become a smarter writer before then), a cute theme story I want to release on Halloween, 6 angsty one shots for each member (Namjoon's is already written), and an unnamed invasion AU story that I hope will see the light of day, but I have so many questions as to what is going on and have to figure out those answers before I post it (also I don't know know if I should add another ongoing fic and do that to myself lol)
14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?
I love cliff hangers, they are just so much fun, I truly can't help myself. I also can't help putting a hopeful spin on my writing, even when I think I shouldn't, the story would be more meaningful if I didn't, but I am a hopeless romantic so sue me. And even if my stories are very fantasy driven, I try to be as realistic as possible, especially during smut scenes, I need realism, I don't like writing unrealistic sex, so sorry if it’s not that fantastical sometimes, I try to make it up in story pacing 🥲🥲.
15. a quote you like from a published story.
Chapter 4 of HOAL is full of sentences I am proud of lol. "...a storm so final in its answer, it must be controlled by the Grim Reaper himself." and "...rain droplets clash against the ocean, open like umbrellas, and the sea throws back tiny gems of water." I really tried to portray that calm before the storm feeling throughout the chapter.
16. a quote from an unpublished story.
Here is a part of the unnamed story, "Namjoon never came back. You take out your phone, pull up Namjoon’s number. You don’t have a pen or pencil, and you’ve never been good at memorization. But this time you have to, you must remember the ten numbers as if your life depended on it, because you’re starting to feel like it might."
17. a space for you to say something to your readers.
My dreams had been haunting me for awhile until I finally said, "okay, let me just try, I'll just try to and see if this whole writing thing will work for me." Sometimes you have thoughts that you just need to scream out into the world before they consume you and the fact that people are hearing me, and being moved in even the littlest of ways by my stories lifts the pressure off my shoulders just a bit every day. A lot of my stories are anonymous love letters to people in my life, memories I want to preserve and transform into stories people can enjoy, happy and painful, for better or for worse. So to my readers, thank you for enjoying my stories, for hearing me. ❤️
I tag: @cloudteawrites @bangtangalicious @smasmashin @alpacaparkaseok @deepdarkdelights @btsaudge @koosbabygrl and any other writer who wants to share! 💕
#your question 14 I am taking as confirmation of Yoongi being utterly in love with Poetica y/n 😭😭😭😭😭#ask game#tag game
9 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
mini-thin
Mini Thin Outlaw WV Rap
andresbardales04-blog
Cuéntame Más 🙄
tales-of-customer-service
The Wild Encounters of a Customer Service Worker
osedma-blog
Untitled