#maybe once they learn how to not idealize n lie to each other and feel safe with each other and learn how to actually talk?
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y'all are gonna hate me for this one but i think it's worth nothing that eleven levels up and develops more as a person whenever she breaks up with mike, and how the vines were tightening around her as he was giving his speech and roping them back into a romantic relationship/context (not his fault btw no mike slander here + it's complicated), but when she's reviving max the source that she pulls her power, focus, and resolve from are memories where max is reminding her to be her OWN person, that she doesn't need anyone else, and she is more than enough as she is with "not hopper. not mike. you." and "there's more to life than stupid boys."
she performs a miracle by believing in herself and the one and first ever person that ever taught her to do so. the girl who viewed her not as a superhero that happens to be a girl, but a girl that happens to be a superhero, too. the girl who encouraged her to grow and change and put herself first. that's who and what give her the courage to fight on.
like literally how much more clear do they need to make it that her romantic relationship with him is holding her back? just look at seasons three and four as well as how the flashback they used for mike's speech was of her in the woods which is undoubtedly a nod to the fact that he doesn't see her as she is now and is stuck in the past while she desperately wants to move forward.
i just. !!!!! i'm sorry but Be Serious Please we can admit this and be real about it. it's okay. it does not make either of them a terrible awful character okay We Can Say It! It's Okay! and i focused on el's perspective here, but the show makes it exceedingly clear that they are not compatible in this way at all and that this relationship is something that makes them both feel worse about themselves in serious ways. they don't have a strong foundation between them to fall back on and they won't be able to move forward and fix things between them until they forge one. everything is shit because at the end of the day they don't feel secure or comfortable with each other in a way that actually matters.
#they jumped into being bf and gf without ever becoming friends first and it shows and we can and should say tht :/#platonic besties e|mike ok sure but maybe once they learn how to be friends first? 🤨#maybe once they learn how to not idealize n lie to each other and feel safe with each other and learn how to actually talk?#they have cute moments when it's lighthearted n carefree but when shit gets real or hard it all just hits the fan#like. they have Issues ok these are not little tiny issues not when it affects their self worth and self image THAT fucking bad lmao#mike literally feels worthless pretty much like he's just some loser with no redeeming qualities that someone wouldn't like unless they#needed him somehow for something and eleven didn't even know what it meant to LIKE things and have your own tastes and felt#like she didn't know who she was and felt like she was a monster and completely other because of this box that they'd put her in and#then chastise her for whenever she dared to be a human being and step outside of it or do something they didn't like#i just. i like eleven and michael so much that's why it bothers me whn ppl act like those issues are not serious. they are.#they're not real people they're characters but it's like . they are my blorbos and that makes all the difference. u kno? :/#mine#mike#eleven
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For ask game Hunter/Luz, their poly with Amity(and maybe Willow??xD) and mmmm King/Collector?👉👈
Lunter
What made you ship it? - they just have really good chemistry! like, idk, it's such a slamdunk of an otp - plucky naive optimistic protagonist slowly learning that her actions have consequences and that she has to go out and make the life she wants to have vs waiting for it to just happen to her, with a strong moral center and a desire to help meets abused captive prince in service to the evil emperor and gets through to him with The Power Of Friendship, putting him on the path to questioning the regime he's served for his entire life? What's More Classic Than That?
and they're such foils to each other, too. Hunter is literally living the YA fantasy protagonist life that Luz wants in the beginning, except she's mentally living in like DragonLance and he's in a Joe Abercrombie novel - she's in classic swords n sorcery fantasy and Hunter is living in gritty grimdark low fantasy. having a 'destiny' fucking sucks, actually. it was all just a lie used to control him, and even when he still believed it he felt constrained and suffocated by it.
their relationship is just so fascinating to me too because they have such an intense bond with each other, despite not necessarily being like... that close? they know each other's most damaging secrets, even though they're both better friends with other members of the group. they rely on each other so much. holy codependence!
and for all the contrast between them, they have a lot of things in common too! Hunter's also a very optimistic person, it's just that his life sucks so bad all his best case scenarios are still completely horrible. they both have personal experiences with loss and alienation, they both tend to take on more than they can handle and hold themselves responsible for things beyond their control, they both have huge guilt complexes, they both cope through fiction and fantasy lives...
they just have a really solid relationship, and adding romance and/or sex to it feels like a very natural evolution of what's already there.
What are your favorite things about the ship? - uhhh i think i kind of already said most of that up there, lmao... i just love how well they play off of each other, how similar and different they are, the way that Hunter is literally living the life Luz thought she wanted, the way they both see themselves and each other as leaders of the group and feel like the others depend on them...
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? - the potential pseudo-incest angle of them being found family only makes it better tbh i'm not really sure because i'm not 100% sure what the popular vs unpopular opinions about the ship are!
i think the hand-wringing about how shipping Luz and Hunter erases Lumity is kinda dumb - no amount of shipping is going to take away the canon relationship, and a lot of it ends up sounding like "well she's Not As Queer if she's involved with a guy" which is uhhh biphobic
hmm... i definitely don't think Hunter is actually any more responsible or less impulsive than Luz, he's just better at rationalizing and has more actual experience with military logistics and mission planning. also my ideal dynamic for them is like, Bitter Academic Rivals/Collaborators (they're both at once, yes, even and especially if they're fucking) - i want them to end up being researchers into glyph magic who work together fantastically but also vocally trash each other's methods and conclusions from time to time and are in fierce competition.
the rest of it is under the cut!
Lumiter
What made you ship it? - the fact that i love Lunter and also don't want to break up Lumity and also love polyshipping, tbh. also, Hunter and Amity have a really fascinating dynamic as metamours
What are your favorite things about the ship? - the poly dynamics, definitely, and specifically the relationship between Hunter and Amity - i just think those two have a ton of incredibly fascinating potential! Hunter and Luz are so close and know so many of each other's worst secrets, but Hunter and Amity both know what it's like to grow up in an emotionally abusive, controlling home, which is something that none of the other kids can relate to at all.
so i just love the fact that they share that and i love to think about them relating to each other more deeply on that basis and being able to understand and comfort each other in ways that neither of them can really get from the others, because sometimes it just...
no matter how kind or sympathetic or understanding someone else is, there is just often something different about the quality of understanding from someone who's gone through similar trauma, things about the experience of being abused and traumatized that you can both relate to each other about that others can't - often not even big things, either, but just kind of littler more mundane aspects of the experience that can feel so unreal and bizarre and alienating to live with until you find someone else who knows what it's like
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? - i don't think that Amity being a lesbian necessarily precludes her from being sexually involved with Hunter in some capacity in a poly scenario, and personally i find it a lot more interesting to explore how her lesbian identity might impact the ways she sees and engages with him sexually than to just blanket declare it totally off-limits and forbidden to even think about.
Lumiter + Willow is very similar tbh - i love big poly clusterfucks, i love a whole friendgroup who are all kinda in love with each other, i definitely love Luz/Willow and Amity/Willow action (and the potential for awkwardness there, PLUS the potential for like, Hunter and Amity getting really competitive over who's a better significant other...)
King/Collector
What made you ship it? - i don't know if i'm like an active shipper of it but i think it's cute! they have a lot in common and a lot to connect about, both being long-lived extremely powerful beings, and i think that they could easily end up being extremely important to each other. they also exist as narrative foils to each other and bounce off each other in really interesting ways.
What are your favorite things about the ship? - i think just seeing it as kind of a domestication arc sort of thing! it's sort of a Beauty and the Beast type of scenario, except the beastlike demonic creature is the Beauty and the more or less humanoid one is the Beast!
the Collector is what King could have ended up like, if he hadn't been taken in by Eda and raised like a person. the Collector is obviously a very neglected and very traumatized kid, whose only company for the last couple of centuries has been A Literal Fucking Serial Killer And Child Predator, so like, of course they don't understand the value of another person's life or have a very robust sense of morality - they've spent the last couple centuries watching Philip break his toys over and over again and just make a new one whenever, and that's been his only social contact at all.
so there's an element of tragedy, a "there but for the grace of God go i", and i think that puts King in the best position to reach the Collector and show him that there's a different way to be. King could extend that helping hand and offer them care and support, including the extremely loving action of "telling someone when they are being a huge asshole and alienating everyone around them with their own behavior."
also, they're just little guys, it would be so cute?? like what an adorable pre-adolescent baby crush scenario. and maybe them being bffs who grow up and develop feelings for each other... so many cute options!
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? - uhhhh i truly do not know because i have no idea what the actual opinions are here. sorry!
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💤"Waking up with them" headcanons💤
Ft. Diluc, Childe, and of course Kaeya
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Warnings: Sickening domestic bliss. and spoilers for Childe's real name
A/N: Listen-- before I pump out requests allow me to be selfish for a second and indulge myself. I didn't wanna get out of bed to go to work this morning, so this is my motivation for tomorrow morning 😩👌
(I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible enjoy!)
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He always wakes up before you, no matter how early you try to wake up
He'll lay there and just take in your slumbering form
He can't help but move some hair out of your face, to get the full view of your peaceful expression;
And that's typical how you get woken up
He tries to be gentle but always end up accidentally waking you
You're eyes softly flutter open and Diluc has a mini panic attack
You however could care less:
You've caught him staring at you while you sleep!
There's nothing more mortifying to him-
"Mmm Diluc? We're you watching me sleep again?" you question groggily. He opens his mouth to respond but his excuses die in his throat. "Creep." You tease, as you squirm your way into his arms. He scoffs at you, still unable to defend himself.
"It's okay, I watch you when you're neck deep in inventory paper work. You're rather dashing when you're not paying attention." you muse dreamily, obviously still half asleep. "Do you now?" He smiles down at you. "Mmmhm." He chuckles slightly before flicking your forehead gently. "I almost feel like that's more creepy." You sigh dramatically. "I guess we're made for each other then, huh?" Diluc adverts his eyes, how you can be so bold first thing after you wake up is beyond him. He clears his throat. "I... suppose we are."
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Same thing with Diluc, he is the first one to wake up between the two of you
He'll stretch carefully as to not wake you just yet
He tries to let you sleep in, he really does
However he's always very anxious to get the day started
Maybe because of his fatui background or maybe because he used to fish a lot?
I've noticed that; like why do people do that? Do fish wake up early too?? Did y'all have to wake up early to fish?? The fish can wait baby I promise, sleep is important!
I'm getting off track uhhh
Anyway-
Childe will gently rub you back to wake you
He found that easiest way, as to not startle you or anything
He used to poke you like Teucer did to him when he was living back home
But that wasn't the most ideal way to wake up, and he's learned his lesson;;
Once you finally open your eyes Childe will pull you back into his chest and discuss the plans for the day with you:
"Good morning." Childe whispers in your ear as your being pulled into the warmth of his chest. "Morning." you yawn. "You work today?" He asked. "Not until this afternoon, so we can actually take our time getting up this morning." you respond. "Nice try, we both know I can't just lie here." You giggle. "Hey it was worth a shot!"
"What do you wanna eat for breakfast?" he asks pecking the top of your head with a small kiss. "You're gunna cook!? Hell yeah, you truly spoil me Ajax." He laughs, you can feel the rumble of his body through the cuddle. "I try my best. Besides food is a great motivator to get you up... So let's get moving shall we?"
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You wake up first 9 times out of 10
Especially if Kaeya had been drinking the night before.
Tell me why this man is even more beautiful when he sleeps if that's even possible
With the sun peaking through the curtains, he looks like a god;
All glowy and flawless, it's not fair!
No one should look like that after a full night of sleep!
He will tease you all day if he catches you staring at him while he sleeps, so be careful
You guys always wake up spooning each other
Don't ask me why, it just happens
He's a pretty heavy sleeper for the most part, unless your getting out of bed.
Then hell be wide awake and think of anyway to keep you in bed longer:
"Kayea-" you whine as your very grumpy boyfriend keeps his arms firmly wrapped around your waist, as you try and wiggle out of his grasp. "I have to get ready for work!" He buries his face inbetween your shoulders blades, shaking his head in defiance. "You still have a whole hour until you leave, you can stay a bit longer." He grumbles. "Kaeya, my love, the light of my life; we both know it's going to take me a least an hour to get ready and eat before I leave. If I don't get moving now I'm gunna be late..." you pause "For the third time this week." He laughs as if he wasn't the cause of all those times. You struggle to free yourself again and Kaeya places kisses on your back and shoulders, breaking your restraint.
You take a deep sigh this time in utter defeat. You turn in his arms to face him. "10 more minutes and that's it. Also you're bringing me lunch today!" Kaeya grins at you, and for a moment you almost forgot your mad at him. He places a kiss on your forehead. "Deal, pleasure doing business with you~" "You're an ass." you snort, lightly smacking his chest. "Yeah, but I'm your ass."
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#genshin impact#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact kaeya#genshin impact x reader#kaeya headcanons#kaeya x y/n#kaeya fluff#diluc headcanons#childe headcanons#diluc x reader#diluc fluff#childe x reader#my writing
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a/n: this is the first installment(?) of the Nori brain rot from ages ago w/a Studio Ghibli vibe, idk man this just happened
word count: 2.2k
tags: post!Shibuya arc, possible spoilers, blood, violence, cursing(?), heavily Hoizer inspired, kinda edited
character(s): Noritoshi Kamo, fem!sorcerer reader
pt ll
Curses stank.
In a metaphorical sense yes. But also in a literal sense for you.
These twisted beings permeated your senses like a rot that you could never rid. Unless exorcised they stuck around in your nostril for days. Each one a different smell but all of them stuck in your craw all the same.
Beasts of rancid nature in behaviors and looks. Nothing more than to be exorcised by sorcerers. You learned quickly that exorcising the curses was no different than taking out week old trash.
What you hadn’t planned on was someone doing more than dumping trash on the world. Whatever had happened. Suddenly you were faced with more than just dutiful tasks of keeping non sorcerers safe. A monsoon of trash had been dumped not only on you. But every human in this world.
Your nostrils burned. And you couldn’t be rid of these things quick enough. Each one you exorcised only meant two or three popped up in their place. Never ending. You couldn’t stomach this smell though. It wouldn’t kill you before you got a breath of fresh air.
Glancing around you take a deep breath. Mountain air on the outskirts of Kyoto during this time of year always meant a refreshing break from the city stank. What you smelled wasn’t refreshing. It was that same vile smell you could clearly recall.
A curse. One that was close too.
To thread carefully was to perhaps save your life. Every aspect of daily life ripped from you. As well of millions of others. You had done your part to try and protect those around you. Soon finding it in slight vain as you sought out some place to find your own breath of fresh air in this madness.
‘It’s close....I feel like I’m gonna hurl.’ Thoughts toying with where the curse might have hidden itself. You keep a firm grip on your hilt with every intent to draw it the second the creature made the mistake of slipping up.
Where you could smell it lurking. There was something else. Almost metallic in scent. You ignored it though. Nothing over powered the scent of a curse. You longed for just the sight of these things. Told over and over again how handy it was to have more than one sense open to curses. Each and every time you took a whiff of one, it made you wish nothing more than to just be able to see these creatures instead of smell them as well.
‘Wait-’ Every alarm in your body went off. Snapping around you couldn’t smell the rancid putridness of the curse anymore. That same metallic scent hung around though. You couldn’t identify it. It was something you’d never smelt before but also so familiar.
Each hair on the back of your neck rose. This was an old deserted Buddhist temple. No one should have been here except you and the curse ransacking the place. A safe haven or so you thought. When your instinct told you to step behind one of the structural beams. You were suddenly glad you did.
Mere inches from your face, the gust of an arrow whistled past you. Weapons were not used by curses. Now you understood. That smell was human.
Quick to defend yourself, with sword drawn, you didn’t expect the same arrow to make a hard one eighty back in the direction you were. No wooden pillar to save you now. You raise your sword just quick enough to sheer the object in half. Rendering what ever power it was imbued with useless. As it had sped past you though the faint smell of iron suddenly became strong. Whatever it was from had a source. Likely human.
Not ready to give up your ideal hiding place to some interloper. You take only a second to focus on the unfamiliar smell. Faint. And not like a curse. There was something towards the back of the temple though that hinted that they were lurking where you couldn’t see them.
With an idea of where the attack would come from. When another arrow came flying by you from a faceless source, you were ready. Smacking it down before the enchanted weapon could turn on you like the first had. This time though you’d seen what angle the projectile was fired from.
‘Gotcha,’ No shortage of ways around a deteriorated temple like this. You duck down through a few broken beams and make your way up to where the attack came from.
Expecting to have but a lowly sniper sitting with no way to guard themselves. You find no one. But the scent lingered. Scrutinizing it closer you decided maybe to use a different sense, “...Hey, I know you’re not a curse! Neither am I! Maybe if you just-” Words cut off by another arrow whizzing past you. There was nothing ruder than being interrupted. Glowering in the direction that the arrow came from now you tightened you grip on your sword, “Ok! I get it- Strangers we might not-”
Another arrow. This time too close to your head for comfort. You lost your patience with the third one.
Recklessly charging towards the assailant was clearly enough to throw their game off track. Swinging your weapon before seeing what it was to lie before you. It was a surprise when your blade met with the dull thud of the wooden limb of a bow.
“What the-” You attack deflected for the moment being. Your first instinct is to jump back from whoever deflected your attack. In close enough range you thought you had the upper hand to avoid the bow. But that was purely lazy thinking on your part as the cause of the stank of iron became clear.
“Slicing exorcism!” This nobody who reeked of iron shot what looked to be a shuriken made of blood at you.
No time to be disgusted. An overwhelming scent of blood made it apparent what you’d been smelling. It wasn’t a simple metal. It was blood.
“Oh- Oh!” You raise your blade up in the nick of time to just get the splatter of cold liquid on your cheeks. Disgusted in passing you have no time to dwell as the stranger before you makes to dart away. With their head of dark hair in your line of sight, you weren’t ready to try and re-find them once again in this maze of debris.
Lurching forward you feel the upper hand stall when they stopped your attack once more with the brute of their bow. Clear view of them now. The man who’d clearly fired the arrows was all but composed when shaking off your attack. No way to not suspect another sorcerer caught up in this giant trash heap of curse attacks. You still have no time to play nice when they hurl another blood conjured weapon at you.
In such suddenness you are less lucky than you have been. This one catching your cheek and causing a sting to spread throughout the skin of your face. Fed up with this game you don’t care if he’s a sorcerer or not. This was a one for all situation now that you intended to win.
Firm foot hold found. You realize the man has cornered himself at this point. Range attacks out of the question. Undoubtedly giving you the upper hand now. With a hefty swing of your sword and the first time you’d channeled any energy into at all. You bring it down like a guillotine. Ready to strike flesh. Instead the snap of the bow is your first sign of an upper hand.
All but trash the man throws it aside but too slowly. You’re on him before the range attacker can pull that weird blood trick again. Slight intent to kill as if he were a curse. You swipe your foot down and knock him down to the temple floor with a hard thud.
You waste no time between the moment his head hit the ground and your above him. Tip of your blade pressed to his neck. One breath too deep from him and the sharp tip would pierce his pale skin. Eyes fixated down on him you realize in the moments after your adrenaline fades that he’s staring right up at you.
Sharp tongue your words come out curt only to be interruped right away, “Who are-”
“Another sorcerer-” His eyes open from the slits they’d remained in the skirmish, “What are you doing here? How did you-”
“I get to ask the questions!” You snarl, jabbing his throat with your sword just enough to watch a crimson bead peak from under the tip of your weapon, “You attacked me, what are you doing up here? Why were you-”
“...you’re so pretty-” Suddenly his eyes open wide realizing what he said, “Wait I didn’t-”
“Shut up or I’ll cut your throat out!” Your sword pressing uncomfortably into the side of his neck now, “I asked you a question! Why are you up here!?”
“Kamo-”
“What? What are you-”
“Kamo family!” He quickly sputtered, “Head of the Kamo family!”
The name rang a bell somewhere in your frazzled brain.
“I’m the head-” He suddenly registered really the blade to his neck, “I’m looking for stragglers-”
“In an abandoned temple?” You weren’t buying it.
“My people live just down the hill,” He spoke earnestly, “I had to keep the stragglers safe when the curses released from their seals in the keep. Some where up here but-”
“I killed them,” You glared down at him, “I killed all but the one you shot. How long were you up here? Were you following me?”
A shake of his head even as he stared at the glimmer of your sword, “No. I was looking for anyone who came up here. I didn’t expect to find another sorcerer. I felt your cursed energy and assumed you were a curse.”
Eyes narrowing you didn’t like the sound of something so simple to this pretty face, “...I don’t believe you. Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now or else-”
“Noritoshi-” He blurted out, “Noritoshi Kamo. Head of the Kamo family. I can give you some place safe to stay. I don’t understand what’s going on but-”
You lift the blade from his throat. Something about the diligent tone in his voice. Like he’d introduced himself like that a million times. You could kill him but it seemed a waste. Weapon retracted but no offer to help him up. You stand above him with a confounded glare, “...do you know what’s happening?”
His head shook and your stomach dropped. Noritoshi didn’t get up. Only propping himself up slightly when he realized the back of his head was thumping from the impact, “....A special grade curse released a powerful seal in Shibuya about two weeks ago...I saw but....” His face became somber and he shook his head once again, “...I don’t know what’s been going on. I just know things are in disarray and it’s my duty to protect my people.”
Once more you were skeptical but with how little rest you’d gotten in the past few days due to the tremendous increase in curses. This man’s words seemed as solid as any other theory you’d heard. More so than the plea of non sorcerer’s you listened to day in and day out about the end of times.
“...Has the Jujutsu elders said anything?” You step off him completely. If he was speaking the truth maybe he knew what was going on as an actual heir to one of the clans.
Noritoshi looked up at you a moment longer, “No...there’s been a wide emergency notice to do what you can but our numbers....�� He grew quiet, “...as many sorcerers seem to be dying as the rest of Japan.”
Perhaps the end of times were coming. You grip your sword hilt tight and take a deep breath, “....seems a angel of death is coming then whether we like it or not.”
“You’re a sorcerer.” He began to get to his feet, “Please, come with me. If anything to stay away from here. There is a grave yard on the other side of the thicket. More curses will come. No one should be here even as a sorcerer yourself.”
First hand you’d seen the influx he spoke of. From every direction. While out of the city provided some safety you knew that this place left you as vulnerable as any other if you stayed alone. With no words to be spoken of from the elders. And an age of curses threatening to crowd out humans. Like a trash pile reaching it’s capacity. You didn’t see much choice in this one.
“...I will kill you if I find out you’re lying to me.” Voice firm without breaking eye contact with him as you sheath your sword, “I smell one curse in this safe space of yours and I’ll-”
“Kill me, yes,” Noritoshi nodded with both busted ends of his bow in his hands as he looked on at you, “I am not lying but if you see fit, I’ll accept you as my angel of death then.”
a/n: I have one wine cooler in me as I finish this. This might be a multi part if the inspiration finds me. Anyways, um, yeah! This is an old idea coming so pls let me know if you liked it!
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#kamo noritoshi#noritoshi x reader#noritoshi kamo x reader#jjk noritoshi#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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INURE
Peeta mellark x male reader
We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn't been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family.
Info: This is basically a reader insert and I've changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN'T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE
Part one: You're here right now. :)
Part two: Over there, pepperoni. :)
Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass
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I sighed, smiling as I watched my brother gather flowers. It was the early morning, I had to go out hunting soon, but then again, it wouldn't hurt to keep him company for a while.
"Nal," I called, it was a nickname short for his name, Kunal. An odd name, to say the least. Mother told me it meant Lotus, her favourite flower.
His strawberry blonde hair swayed towards me, a smile forming on his face. He held a couple of lily's in his hands, his blue eyes glittering. "Y/n!" he said back, waving towards me.
I slowly walked towards him, squatting down next to him. He gave me a lily from his makeshift bouquet, humming. "Look at what I got!" he exclaimed.
I chuckled, roughly putting my hand on his head, messing with his hair. He groaned and in retaliation, he pulled on one of my small braids. It was something my father used to do to my hair when we went off to the woods. I used to hate it, but now I wear it every day, quite funny, really.
"Ow—hey, I just fixed that you little—" I let out, pulling my hand off his head as he let out an unprovoked yell. "AHHH MOM, Y/N'S SWEARING AGAIN!"
I sighed, managing to pry him off me, our heads turning towards our mother, she had the same hair and features as my brother, maybe that's why she preferred him over me.
"Kunal, get inside, time for breakfast!" she called, waving him over. Nal said a small "bye-bye", waving at me before running to our mother who welcomed him with open arms.
She looked at me, I could feel her icy glare. But beyond all of that, her eyes showed a little bit of concern, as if she's afraid. It made sense, district 12 wasn't the kindest of places, illegal hunting is dangerous and she was my mother, after all.
I watched as my brother gave him the lilies, a smile forming on her lips, her eyes wrinkling. My hands tensed a little, I passed it off to the chilly breeze, not wanting to think about this in the early morning. "Bye," I muttered, turning away as I went towards the woods.
My hands gripped the rough bark, scaling up a tree with little to no effort. I arrived at a certain spot, reaching into a hole where my hunting equipment was hidden.
I pulled out a small set of thin, throwing daggers. I looked at it, gripping the leather strapping on the handle. This was the reason, the reason everything went downhill that day.
Yet I still keep it, to honour my father. This set was one of the only things he left when he was executed in the most painful way possible. I let out a hitched breath at the thought of it, holstering it on my belt.
I pulled out a hunting bow, something my friend gave me. I wasn't the best at it, I was better at throwing more than anything. It was worth learning though, it was best used when hunting smaller game like rabbits and squirrels.
To my right, was a nest of mocking birds. I whistled a basic 3 tunes to them, which they listened to and replicated. My lips formed into a small smile, waving at the birds before I leapt to another tree.
My father taught me how to traverse the forest through trees. I remember falling every time I leapt from tree to tree, my father laughing as he caught my hand. Sometimes I'd just fall to the ground, resisting the urge to cry as I insisted to try again.
He and I have a lot in common, I took more after my father more than I did my mother. Both physically and mentally. While my mother was more grounded, my father would never shut up about freedom and life without the capitol.
It wasn't something ideal for life like this. Any word or action against the capitol and you can get executed right on the spot, something I had to learn the hard way.
I've always found the ground limiting, the coal dust in the air quite suffocating. Unlike in these heights, where the air was fresh, cool. You saw so much more, moved so much more. It was a taste of freedom, something I've always wanted.
I arrived at a location hidden away from unwanted eyes. Landing on a large rock ledge that was reachable from above if you leapt or swung far enough. Of course, there were times where I didn't stick the landing and ended up in the thicket of berry bushes, ending up with several, stinging, unwanted "friends".
"I'm early for once," I huffed, grinning as I laid down the rock. I put my leg on top of the other, using my hands to support my head. A small, yellow butterfly landed on my nose, making me smile.
"Hey, owl eyes," A voice boomed, making the butterfly fly away. My brows furrowed as I looked in the direction of the voice. "Finally stopped daydreaming of burning the Capitol down?" he teased, grinning.
I shot him a look, "Mhmm," I hummed, "Daydreaming of throwing them off a cliff instead," I said, making him snort.
"And how do you plan to do that?" He asked, smirking. I threw a small rock at his forehead, scoffing. "Shut it, Gale" I retorted.
He rolled his eyes, a mischievous look on his face "I was going to give you some of this bread I shot, but since you're like that, I guess I'll just have to share this with Catnip," he said, holding up a loaf of bread, an arrow pierced through it.
I laughed looking up at the sky, "Oh come on, don't be like that, Gale," I spread my limbs across the surface of the cool rock. "Don't pick favourites, but— between me and Kat, who's the lucky favourite?"
Gale hummed as if thinking deeply. "Definitely Catnip," he answered making my head turn sharply towards him. I shot him a glare, a look of betrayal. He let out a bark of laughter, just in time for Katniss to arrive.
He held up the bread once more, "Hey catnip, look at what I shot," he said. "He said that two times already," I groaned, raising a finger.
Katniss laughed, the bread handed to her. "Mhh, still warm," she commented, sniffing the crust of the bread after she had pulled out the arrow.
If I hadn't known any better, I would say that they were siblings. Straight black hair, olive skin and same grey eyes. Most of the families who work in the mines resemble each other this way. That's why my family has always stuck out like a sore thumb, like Katniss' mother and sister.
My mother and brother with strawberry blonde hair, my brother, in particular, having my father's blue eyes. Father and I had bright copper-red hair, I shared my mother's green eyes.
From what I've heard my father used to be a merchant, selling various herbs, fruits, plants and meat until he's settled down here for my mother, began working in the mines, along with illegal hunting.
The peacekeepers and the mayor let it slide though, They crave fresh meat just like anyone else in the district. Our district was looked down upon, the capitol didn't really pay attention to it. This is why we can get away with these.
My train of thought was interrupted by a berry landing on my face, making me scrunch my face as Katniss finished a joke with a Capitol accent. The two always told me I was easily distracted, a disadvantage when it came to hunting.
Though I'd say it's an advantage when I'm not busy daydreaming I tend to spot small animals, like that one bird flying west of me, or that small worm crawling next to me.
Gale tapped my hand, which was dangling from the rock. He handed me a piece of bread, some cheese spread on it. I sat up, one of my knees bent, resting my elbows on it as I thanked him.
"We could do it, you know?" He said quietly, effectively drawing my attention, as well as Katniss'. "What?" she asked. I only remained silent, biting into the bread as my other foot dangled from the rock, swinging around.
"Runaway from the district, live in the woods, you and I, maybe Y/n too if he wants to, we could make it," He said, I nodded, swallowing a healthy portion of the bread. "You know I want to," I interjected.
Gale sighed, "If only we didn't have so many kids," Of course, they weren't our actual children, though they might as well be. He has two little brothers and a sister, Katniss has a sister and I have Kunal. There's also our parents, another mouth to feed.
My mom doesn't really have a source of income, so I'm left working the majority of the month, only taking a break at least for a day. Though the three of us split our games, It's never really enough. We still have times where we would curl up on our cots on an empty stomach. It happened far more often than any of us would like.
With my father gone, I was left to provide for my own family. These forests are practically my home, the only thing missing was Kunal and my mom's icy stares.
"I don't want any children," Katniss responded plainly. "I might if I didn't live here," said Gale.
"But you do," She responded irritably, I glanced between them, chewing on my bread slowly. "Forget it," Gale snapped, sighing,
It would be a lie if I haven't thought of this. They call me a daydreamer because of this, I'd much rather dream of being one with the mocking jays, flying freely without worrying about the Capitol's prying eyes than face the fact that that would never happen.
A trait passed down to me by my father, as I said. We hate the fact that we are treated like caged birds, though used to it, we'll never be comfortable. Unlike my mother.
Sometimes I wonder what drew them to each other.
"What do you want to do?" Katniss asked, making me perk up. "How about we fish at the lake?" I suggested. They both nodded as a grim thought settled in my head.
Kunal turned 12 this year, his name is on the ballot for today, Reaping day. Though only once, there's a slim chance that he might get chosen. He could barely stand against an angry, small mutt, running to my legs whenever he gets scared.
If he gets chosen, I wouldn't know what to do. Surely my mother would resent me even more, why was I her only child left then? No, it wouldn't get to that, surely not.
I clenched my fists as we travelled to the lake, feeling the anger bubble inside me. I remembered one of the many reasons I despised these ridiculous, power-hungry people.
"I'll destroy them one day, don't worry, pa" I whispered, though I'm sure Gale and Katniss heard me. They just knew.
—--—--—
Words: 1.8k
#peetamellark#peeta mellark#peetamellarkxmalereader#peeta mellark x male reader#peeta mellark x reader#hunger games#hunger games x reader#hunger games x male reader#gale#katniss#x male reader#male reader series#male reader#reader insert#male reader insert
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Love Me, Love Me Not
ft. Kuroken
G/N Reader
TW: Insecurities... I think that’s it?
Read This First
Mini Series Here
Okay part 2/4 for the continuation of “Toxic Things They Do” request. This is probably the hardest one for me because I’m better at writing Kuroken x reader on a platonic level aha. Not proofread because your girl is a slacker-
You’re sitting on the floor of your living room, staring at the tv while Kenma plays on the new PS5 he bought. He’s seated in Tetsuro’s lap, the dark haired male is busy yapping his ear off- to which Kenma lets out small hums of acknowledgement every once in a while to show he’s listening. You want to join them up there, somehow the couch seems so far away from you. Like a pillar high in the sky- only serving to show off what you can’t ever really have. It seems a little dramatic to be thinking that way, sure, but you have a valid reason to put it in such a manner. You know, since you’re allergic to leather and all.
Tetsuro was always so caring, constantly doting on the ones he loves. With his trashy puns, troublesome smirk, and sparkling eyes that promised a good time, he was perhaps the ideal man. He gave his all for those he cared for, seemingly nothing about him was selfish... and yet the leather couch had been Tetsuro’s idea- he had always been fond of the material after all. Even when you brought up the whole issue of you being allergic to it- he still insisted that they purchase a leather sofa.
“We’ll just buy you a separate arm chair or something.” Kenma had said after listening to the both of you argue back and forth. “It’s not like we don’t have the money.” It hurt more looking back on it now than it did at the time. It was an unreasonable solution, but it wasn’t like Kenma was going to disagree with Kuroo. He never did. At least when it came to you that is.
You continue staring at them. There’s something about the way that Tetsuro gazes at Kenma that just screams love and contentment. He’s never looked at you that way- even back when you were in denial you knew that much. Kenma never had to do what you would need to in order to keep his attention on him. All Kenma needed to do was exist- unlike you- he never had to earn dear Kuroo’s love.
Tetsuro only doted on those he loved. He loved Kenma. And he only seemed to love you when Kenma wasn’t around.
“Y/n...” The messy haired male called, long arms winding around your torso. “Let’s go to the arcade! I made some reservations- we have the whole place to ourselves for a few hours.”
You remember being excited at the time- finally you would get to go on a date with Tetsuro. It had been so long since your last one.
“Really? That’s awesome! Let me just get dressed.�� You slipped into a pair of jeans and a band t-shirt before hurrying to meet Kuroo at the door. “Tetsu I’m-”
“I can’t believe you got called in so last minute. It’s too late to cancel the reservations already kitten.” Kuroo whines into the phone, obviously talking to Kenma. “Yeah I’m just bringing Y/n, no point in wasting money... oh? Okay see you later. Love you kitten~”
Needless to say, your day seemed a lot less exciting after overhearing that conversation.
Kuroo gently nudged the smaller male aside, standing up to go use the restroom. The two of you made eye contact briefly, he winked playfully before continuing on his way to the bathroom. Your gaze fell upon Kenma- who was still rapidly pushing buttons and triggers on his controller.
Kenma had always been elusive. It was one of the things that drew you into him. He looked so uncaring about everything, at first you couldn’t even have imagined that he would be so attentive to every detail. Was it a trait he had gained from Tetsuro or vice versa? People do say lovers begin sharing habits over time. At first you could barely distinguish one of his expressions from another, but as you spent more time in his company you found much more than you could have hoped. You discovered that he was constantly changing, learning to be more expressive. Each time you thought you had him figured out- he had already developed beyond that.
The minuscule way his lips would upturn when he was amused soon changed into a hidden smile, chuckles threatening to escape his throat. Then that changed to a slightly wider one, showing the smallest amount of his teeth. Eventually he learned to forgo his embarrassment entirely- and he would laugh freely, all teeth, heart, and soul, in it. Yes, Kenma was a constantly evolving individual- like the ever changing maze in the maze runner. There was seemingly no escape to him- just twists and turns and dead ends. He was impossibly deep- a promise of a myriad of mysteries within his eyes.
But you were just another runner- doomed to be lost in the maze- but never to escape it. Kuroo on the other hand was something else. He was on a completely different level- skilled in his knowledge of Kenma- able to come and go as he pleased. You doubted he’d ever wanted to escape. Neither did you- at first.
Out of the two of them, Kenma had always been more receptive of you. It had surprised even Kuroo himself actually. You didn’t doubt Kenma’s love for you- not like you doubted Tetsuro’s- but you also knew that he’d never care for you as much as he did Kuroo. It showed in the little things.
“Y/n did you want to play with me?” Kenma’s soft voice carried over where you were- snuggled up in blankets, playing Animal Crossing while sitting in your arm chair. He had his own red and blue Switch in his hands. Kuroo had been home at the time, you recall hearing him snoring away in your bedroom. “It’s been awhile since it was just us.”
You smiled at his words and agreed. The two of you visiting each others islands and irritating your beloved villagers. It was fun, spending time with Kenma, and you could tell that he was enjoying himself- and not just because of the game. He would shoot you shy, soft smiles when he thought you weren’t looking. It was those smiles that really kept you clinging onto the sinking ship that was your relationship.
Kenma loved you.
The smiles directed towards Kuroo were different. They weren’t shy- instead they were familiar and open. Kenma had known Kuroo far longer than he had you. The comfort he took in him was of an entirely separate magnitude. Naturally, this was the same with the amount of love he held for him too.
He looked happier with Kuroo than he did with you.
Maybe it’s because of that fact that you decided to break the news to Kenma first. Making sure that your skin was covered with you long sleeves, pants, and socks, you made your way over to where Kenma was seated. His eyes tore away from the screen to stare at you worriedly.
“Y/n your allergies-” He began.
“It’s fine, as long as my bare skin doesn’t touch the leather.” You reply, sitting beside him. You know you shouldn’t- not when you’re about to say this- but you yank him into a hug anyways. You hug Kenma tight and hard, because he’s the only one in this relationship that might even love you a sliver as much as you love him. He tries to turn, so that he can embrace you too- but you won’t let him, opting to pin his arms down with your own. It’ll hurt too much to do this if you let him hold you.
“Y/n what’s wrong?” He asks and he looks at you like you’re the only one in the world for that moment. Bitterly, you wonder if this is what it feels like to be in Kuroo’s shoes. Yet again, you are reminded that while this is a rare sensation for you- it’s a daily occurrence between the two of them- looking at each other like they hung the stars up in the sky- that is.
“I have to tell you something Kenma.” You murmur, licking your lips. “But first I’m going to let you go, right after I try to memorize what you feel like against me. And you have to promise not to try to hug me after that okay?”
“W-why? What’s wrong Y/n?” He struggles again, fear overtaking his heart at your words. “What is it?”
“J-just promise me. You can be mad, you can cry, hell you can even laugh afterwards. But don’t try to reach out and hug me okay?” He’s never seen you so serious, so he nods his head.
“I promise.” He agrees and stops fighting against you. You do your best to memorize this- the feeling of him in your arms. He’s warm and despite his lithe figure he’s firm against you. His hair is smooth and soft- since you had managed to drill into him how important hair maintenance was- it smells like his pricey conditioner. You rest your cheek against his for a long moment, before forcing yourself to pull away from him entirely. The half blonde abides by his promise, but it’s clear that he wants to reach out to you.
“This is going to hurt me a lot more than it’s going to hurt you.”
“What are you saying?” Kenma’s anxious now, eyes searching for answers in your own pools of e/c.
“But you have Tetsuro... I don’t know how he’ll feel about this- but he’ll probably be furious with me.” You continue, heavy tears slipping from your tear ducts. “I don’t think this is working out Kenma-”
“What did I do?” He asks, wide eyed and desperate- you can hear the pain in his tone. “Did you fall out of love with me- with us?” The angel and devil perched on your shoulders agree that you should lie to him- tell him ‘yes, I did fall out of love with you.’ The angel says it’s better to do it this way, to spare him the pain of knowing what you went through. While the devil thinks you should say it in the most vicious way possible- to give back all the pain, the unworthiness they made you experience. But you refuse to listen, no one deserves to suffer through your insecurities.
“I’m still in love with you two.”
There’s tears spilling from both of your eyes now.
“Then why-”
“It’s because I’m not content anymore.” It’s not the full truth but it’s better than a lie right? You forgot that a half truth is a whole lie.
“I think we deserve the truth.” Kuroo says from the entrance of the living room, he’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. “Not some half assed explanations.”
“Right...” You agree, blinking back your tears. “I’m so grateful for you two. Tetsuro you’re so caring and selfless, you give your heart in everything you do- I’d be lying to say that I’m over you. Kenma you’ve always been so attentive and I won’t lie- something about you just makes me want to appreciate you endlessly. But babes, you’ve been in love for so long- I can’t possibly catch up.”
Kuroo’s expression is shocked, not expecting this. “Y/n-”
“No, please listen.” You ask of him- just this once- to listen to you. Luckily for you he does. Kenma looks like he wants to speak up too, but swallows his words. It’s the first time they’ve let you get a word in without getting defensive. Kinda poetic if you think about it. Your last 'argument’ as a throuple and the first time they’ve been able to let you say your piece.
“Tetsu, it’s clear Kenma’s your first and foremost priority. I don’t even know if what we have is love or admiration- but it’s not what I’m looking for.” You give him a sad smile and he discovers that it’s the most genuine one he’s seen from you.
“Y/n I-” He tries, only to get an impatient look from both you and Kenma. “Sorry, continue.”
“I’m a hypocrite to say this- but Kenma... this is harder to say because I’ve grown more attached to you overtime.” You hate yourself for what you’re about to say next- the hypocrisy you’re about to spew is enough to render your feelings null and void... or so you believe. “I never doubted with you- what we had... have... it’s definitely love.”
Kenma looks ugly, his face is all scrunched up and theres snot and tears dripping down onto his lap. “It always was- still is Y/n.”
“I know baby.” You whisper back, it pains you to see him like this. “But you’re still more in love with Tetsu.” He can’t deny it either, that’s what pains him the most. “I love the both of you though. So I really do wish you the best. It’s the only thing I can do- because I can’t stay here and hold you back.”
Something inside of Kuroo’s heart cracks and he finds himself tearing up at your words. It hurts because you’re right. He doesn’t love you like that- or at least he doesn’t think so. But if that’s the case then it doesn’t make sense as to why he’s hurting.
“I’m sorry that I had to be the one to call it quits- because I never, ever, wanted to be the one to do that. But guys-” Your voice cracks, it embodies all the heart ache you’re feeling- been feeling for so long. “When it’s just you two, at the altar, finally becoming one... I’ll be able to say with good faith that I made the right decision. So don’t fight me, don’t even say anything- this is what I want. This isn’t for just you- it’s for me too.”
They nod, facing the consequences of your choice- maybe it goes further than that. Maybe all this time the three of you were doomed to fail. If that’s the case then it’s a blessing that you’re not going down in flames. Instead this chapter is ending with a flood of tears and the promise of ruin. But there’s also the underlying hope that one day the flood will dry up and they’ll finally be able to look at the ruins without feeling regret. It’s that hope that all three of you cling too. That hope that one day you’ll be able to rebuild upon the ruins- a new temple, new kingdom. A new place for a rebuilt- or maybe even entirely new- love.
A/N: I did Kuroo so dirty but I’m not sorry about that. In all honesty this is how I feel it’d go in a situation like this. Kuroo’s priority is always going to be Kenma. He’s a chemistry nerd- and their shared chemistry is so deep, it’s engrained onto the face of their soul. I think Kenma does really love Y/n but he’ll always love Kuroo just a little more. But sometimes a little is all the difference and is the game changer in the end. I do think, that if Kenma had loved the two of them equally- then maybe they could have been fine with a polygamous dynamic- but sadly that’s not the case.
This is also the harsh reality to a lot of poly relationships- some people enter them but aren’t prepared to love equally. So there’s an imbalance there that really shouldn’t be there. A lot of authors who write for polyships don’t touch on this but I want to be here to write about the good and the bad.
Seeing the reader after the breakup
#kuroken x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo x reader x kenma#kenma x reader#kenma kozume x reader#answered.requests#learning to let go
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lover to lean on; pjm
➳ pairing: neighbor!jimin x florist!reader
➳ genre: neighbor AU, flower shop AU, smut, fluff, angst
➳ wc: 20k
➳ synopsis: for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other.
➳ warnings: explicit language, pining, unrequited love 🤔, accidental voyeurism, unhealthy eating/sleeping habits, praise kink, body worship, nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjobs, penetration, fluffy sex
➳ a/n: oops, I uploaded this later than I expected because the word count really got me. anyways, this fic is inspired by the song call me by keshi x rainlord. go give it a listen!
Wake up and smell the roses.
That would be a great philosophy for life if you didn’t have to wake up to the sound of sex at 2 in the goddamn morning.
Perhaps it’s your fault for not checking on the thickness of the drywall prior to moving in, but it wasn’t exactly the first concern that came to mind when touring the flat. Now, it’s more of a personal problem than anything: you being bitter about not having sex while your neighbor and his girlfriend are going at it like rabbits 5 feet away from you. It’s not a very valid complaint to bring up to your landlord. He’d probably tell you to suck it up and get laid.
And he’s right.
Besides, it’s not so bad most days. You hardly even notice the sound of running water through the rusty pipelines every morning or the whizzing of the ancient radiator on cold nights. In fact, you welcome it. It’s become part of the rustic building’s old-school, pre-historic charm.
That, you can get behind.
But one thing is for sure. You’re never going to learn to appreciate the strangled garble of a morning blowjob in the steamy showers or the banging of the bedpost against the paper thin walls when you’re in desperate need of some beauty sleep, well deep in a state of REM.
It’s anything but charming.
The 3 inch thick divider between you and your not-so-considerate neighbor does absolutely nothing to drown out the soft moans and hard grunts. You can hear them loud and clear through the dead of night as if they’re right beside you.
“My god,” you sigh, rolling around your bed restlessly. Your hand blindly palms at the sheets in search of the pillow that rests beside you, placing it over your face and sandwiching yourself between the cushions. If you can’t kill your neighbor, you might as well suffocate yourself first to avoid incrimination, shamefully persecuted for third degree murder.
A frustrated groan falls from your lips, but it’s stifled against the buffer. The banging stops almost immediately.
“Shit,” you hear from the other side.
Did he come? Is it over?
You pray, hold your breath, and lie still as if you’re the one caught red-handed. But you’re not a voyeur. At least not on purpose.
It isn’t your fault for being a light sleeper because the only thing to blame is the flimsy partition your landlord dare considers a wall. If you could have it any other way, you would. This is far from ideal granted that you didn’t even ask for any of this, but it’s far too late to get a refund.
Lately, you’ve been spending your nights muting out vulgar dirty talk, the occasional squelches, and the obscene skin slapping on skin. Over time, you’ve come to know your neighbor on a much more intimate level than you would have liked despite never seeing him around. Like the fact that he thrives off of edge play and praise kinks. Yeah, it’s probably for the best that his identity is kept a secret otherwise you wouldn’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again with the knowledge that you have stowed away in the crevasses of your brainー knowledge you would prefer to forget. You don’t even know his name, but you’re long past the point of being acquainted with one another, so it would pretty be awkward to ask for it now. All you know is that he’s stuck in his own bubble, too blinded by love and lust to even consider his poor neighbor.
Most nights, you even make the effort to stumble through your cluttered, moonlit studio apartment in search of your cheap headphones that usually dangle precariously over the edge of your desk. You’ve made a mental note to invest in some earplugs and a more effective set of headphones too.
Truly, you’re not the type to invade one’s privacy. You have nothing to be sorry about because you respect your neighbor, his girlfriend, and their sexy time. If anything, they should be the ones apologizing for keeping you awake for three consecutive nights. No less on a Tuesday.
But perhaps the act is already done and you can let bygones be bygones. Maybe he’s already come, and as unfortunate as that may be for his girlfriend, the chances are he's low on stamina tonight. The vivace metronomic thuds against your shared wall would suggest he was going pretty hard at it too. Not that it’s any of your business. You’re happy that your neighbor is so in love, and that he can have sex all day, all night and fall into the comfort of his lover’s arms, unlike you. You’re not bitter.
Not at all.
You don’t mean to get invested in his relationship, but it’s just that tonight, he finished rather early as opposed to the hour it usually takes him to climaxー foreplay and edge play and all. You don’t keep track of the time per se. That’d be a little creepy, but it’s hard not to do so when you’re losing out on a precious hour of sleep each night. Especially when you’re stuck in your own overactive imagination, wondering how good his stroke game is and what type of lingerie he’s intoー
“Sorry!”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Then the realization hits you momentarily.
He’s talking to you.
They must have heard you groaning through the stupid, thin walls, and therefore, you’re responsible for this very awkward exchange.
Your grip on the pillow loosens as you lift it over your head.
“It’s okay!” Your voice cracks with a heightened tone, “Just make sure you use protection!” The cringe settles into the pit of your stomach as soon as you respond. You squeeze your eyes shut and mentally facepalm yourself. You should have left it alone, but your cursed mouth moves way faster than your thoughts.
The couple whispers to one another, but it’s hushed and hurried. Faint and hard to decipher. Angry, even. The wall must be really selective on what it chooses to mute out which is absolutely perfect when you actually want to know what’s happening on the other side.
However, moments after, you can still hear the rustle of sheets and the patter of footstepsー two pairs. Even the harsh close of the door and the soft turning of the deadbolt, a resounding click that could be heard if you were to listen close enough.
Once again, there’s a shuffle of feet that skid across the hardwoodー one pair. A few creaks echo from the aged floorboards. And then there’s a squeak from the bed slat, a heavy mass pressing on the mattress.
You sit in silence with eyes wide open as you trap air into your lungs in fear of breathing out. Correction, in fear of your neighbor making comments on your rude interruption. If you could pretend that you’re asleep, maybe the problem will disappear into the night.
But it doesn’t because it never works that way.
Moonlight filters through the pane glass windows, right between the cracks of your curtain. It illuminates your face and keeps you awake longer than you need to be. You manage to let out the breath you’ve been holding when something else breaks the silence.
You can hear it faintly. The soft hum of an unfamiliar tune before the soft outbreak of vocals. The song is bitter, but the voice is sweet.
Your neighbor has gotten into the habit of singing whether it be at dawn or dusk, yet you can never complain given his velvety voice. Sometimes it’s accompanied by the strum of an acoustic guitar or the tap of an electronic keyboard. But one thing that never changes is his love for the same old bubble gum pop music that’s rinsed and repeated on the radio. Nothing but love on the brain. Mushy lyrics that bear no meaning to you, and frankly, to anyone who’s painfully single and/or heartbroken.
You would have expected nothing less from this man though. His taste in music is a given. Most days, you can physically feel his warmth and kindness based on the dulcet timbre of his voice. Although you’ll never care to admit it to him, it helps you fall asleep on nights when you’re drained from work. They’re comforting songs that warm your heart, especially because he’s singing such sincere lyrics about his girlfriend.
His love for her is pure, and it’s disgustingly cute.
No matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you’re happy for the lovely couple while internally cringing during their late night endeavors, you’re wondering if you’re subconsciously longing for a relationship just like theirs.
But you’d be crazy not to dream about that kind of love story. One in which the guy cooks a meal for you at the end of every night, served alongside a hot cup of peppermint tea to help you sleep better. In which he runs a bath for you, flower petals, candles, soap suds, and the whole shebang, only to hop right in behind you. Someone to keep you company while giving you a back massage, working on the hard-to-reach knots that line your shoulder blade after a hard work day. Of course at his own volition, never having to be asked to do so.
Perhaps you’re more invested in your neighbor’s picture perfect relationship than you thought, knowing all these little, intimate details no one else should know. But once again, the thin wall is to blame. You’re not an eavesdropper. You’re just a hopelessly hopeless romantic who needs to wake up and smell the damn roses.
Because apparently, not every relationship is as perfect as it seems.
“Everything okay?” You don’t know why you open your mouth, but you do, and you can’t take it back. He’s long since stopped singing, but the residual silence is louder than the gentle voice that once filled the space.
He sighs deeply. The frustration is unmistakable, and you regret ever saying anything.
“Yeah… Just trouble in paradise.” He chuckles dryly, but there’s a tinge of sadness to it.
The room is quiet again. You debate with yourself, wondering if you should hash it out with him or go to fucking bed knowing that you have a 7 am shift tomorrow.
“Do you want to talk about it?” The kindness of your heart outweighs all else, but you cross your fingers and secretly hope that his answer is no just so you can finally get some shut-eye.
“Uhm… I wouldn’t want to bother you.” His voice wavers. He sounds tired, but maybe it’s the exhaustion from navigating the rocky waters of a relationship. You’ve been there before.
Everyone’s been there before.
Your eyes are closed, and just when you think you can go back to bed, your mind and heart betray you.
“I wouldn’t be bothered,” you tell him, “I’m already awake too.”
His chest rumbles with a true chuckle this time. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t even worry about it. I’m probably gonna invest in some ear plugs tomorrow,” you quip, waving it off.
“You really don’t have to,” he deadpans. There’s a pregnant pause, and you’re left confused. He continues with a shaky breath, “I’m not sure we’ll be back together after this.”
Now you’re even more confused. Were they not just ravaging one another moments ago?
“Valentine's Day is coming up next Friday…” you muse. “You could still win her back, you know?”
The radiator whirs in the background. It’s silent.
“Do you love her?” You query, thumbing the pilled edges of your blanket.
“That’s a loaded question.”
Now it’s your turn to stay silent.
“I think I do,” he starts. His voice is rough. “Love her— I mean.” He falters in uncertainty. “Sorry, I’ve never admitted it to myself before.”
“That’s okay.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but the situation is totally out of your hands. You don’t even know the full picture, yet it somehow feels like you’re on the other side of the breakup even though you’re just sitting in the audience, watching, or rather hearing, the drama unfold.
Your fingers interlock with one another, resting over your chest as you lie flat on your back. The heavy weight of your heart sinks lower into your stomach. Maybe love isn’t real, or maybe it’s not meant for people like you and him. Or is it just some misconstrued concept jumbled up in your brain? Some romanticized notion you’ve only ever dreamed about or seen in movies and read in fanfiction?
You gulp, pondering over how things could possibly go wrong in their seemingly perfect relationship. Well, there are millions of reasons, but maybe you’ve only ever heard the good times roll. Days when they’re frolicking in a meadow of sunshine and nights when they’re singing and dancing and laughing, head over heels in love, and everything is just peachy perfect. Maybe the bad and the dirty have yet to expose itself to you, still hidden behind an extra layer of stucco drywall and eggshell paint coatings. No matter how many times you bitch about them, the innermost part of you is still rooting for the couple you’ve had the displeasure of listening to have sex every night. But it’s always worth it, or so you think, for the sake of them being in a good place. To be undoubtedly quote unquote in love—
“Have you ever been in love?” It surprises you that he’s the one asking instead of the other way around.
You stare blankly at the ceiling with a racing heart. Biting your lip, you speculate whether or not you should reveal such intimate details about your life to a total stranger.
“Nope,” you shake your head. He can’t see you, but you hope that your response is convincing enough.
“Would you want to?”
You can’t help but scoff. “Yeah, what kind of question is that?”
“You’re right, it was stupid.” He chuckles. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you warn him, “You don’t have to.”
“Sorr—”
“If you finish that sentence, I’ll personally come over and flick you on the forehead,” you say, reprimanding him.
His laughter is even sweeter than his voice. “Harsh. But nice? I guess?”
That’s the perfect description for someone who works in the service industry, which unfortunately, you do.
“It’s for your own good,” you suggest, nodding your head in self indulgent pleasure. Kind of like how avoiding love is for your own good.
The silence quickly settles in, as does the existential dread. Your eyes shift around to the empty apartment before you, and you soon realize that you’re painfully alone.
The radiator goes off again and the clock ticks perpetually. The moment escapes you.
His voice fills up the room. “Can I ask how you’re doing?”
The corner of your lips curl up in a fond smile. You exhale a deep sigh, one of contemplation. “I’m okay… Just... learning how to deal with unrequited love.”
“Harsh,” he echoes back.
“Yeah.” You curl up on your side, sighing and reaching for a pillow to spoon.
“Want to talk about it?”
You gnaw on your lip. It’s a bad habit to have. “There’s not much to talk about. It’s just some guy who always walks in at work. We make small talk, flirt a little bit, and then he leaves until the next day.” A highlight reel flashes before you, and you tug on your blanket, nuzzling into the warm fabric that offers you some semblance of comfort against the outside world as you dig your nose into the soft linen.
“How do you know he doesn’t like you?”
You shrug to yourself. “It’s just a feeling.”
You think the conversation is over at this point. Moments go by until your ears perk up at the faint sound of his voice. “You should ask him out.”
Your neighbor surely seems to enjoy making a fool out of you. It’s a nice thought to have though. To think that you have the confidence to ask a guy out. The guy you’re crushing on, no less.
You satiate your neighbor anyways just to entertain the idea a little longer and give him a little push towards his own love story. “Only if you make amends with your girlfriend though.”
“Girlfriend? Oh— no, she’s not my girlfriend,” he says in defense.
You’re perplexed. “Wh-? She’s not?”
“No... uh, just friends with benefits,” he confesses with a cough.
Flashbacks start to go off in your head as you try to connect the dots like some mathematical formula. Is love actually an illusion? Maybe love knows no labels, but a small part of you still wants to believe that they’re wholeheartedly in love and on the verge of marriage or something. But that delusion instantaneously bursts into dust and ashes, confirmed by none other.
“Hey, I’m kind of tired, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I’ll make it right with her so long you talk to the guy.” He lets out a huff. “Don’t let him miss out on a good thing because of the what ifs.”
Comfort washes over you at the sound of his advice. In a way, he’s right. Maybe it’s time that you put yourself out there in spite of the possibilities. Even if it’s utterly terrifying.
“Goodnight,” you mumble back, wrapping your arms securely around the pillow.
He hears you loud and clear, “Goodnight. Thanks for the talk.”
He knocks out soon after that, but it’s hard for you to sleep when you’ve got nothing but love on the brain.
Waking up is hell, especially when you’re running on nothing but 0 hours of sleep and a single cup of black coffee. The only thing that makes the fatigue worth it is the peaceful lull at sunrise and the absence of your noisy neighbor’s daily blowjob. It’s as if some higher power read your mind and decided that you’re worth the divine intervention just for that one fleeting moment of jubilation.
But just like the law of gravity, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and your contract with the universe calls for some cosmic karma. It’s like you’re being punished because you can never seem to catch a break.
Work is unusually hectic, but with Valentine’s Day around the corner, it’s expected. If Black Friday is the worst nightmare for every retail worker, one can imagine a florist’s week leading up to Single’s Awareness Day, or much less commonly referred to as “A Shallow, Capitalistic Attempt to Buy Affection Day.”
Despite owning a flower shop, you still stand firmly against Valentine’s Day and all that it represents. Maybe you’re spiteful because you’re pitifully single and surrounded by lovey dovey mush at every single corner. But as of right now, it has more to do with the extra workload that lies at your feet.
Not only do you have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to open shop and prepare for the deliveries, but you also have to cut and process flowers, organize dozens of overnight orders, and arrange bouquets for the day’s purchases, all before 9am. The to-do list is endless, and not to mention, the number of calls you’ve picked up in the last hour alone has already backed you up on a number of orders. It’s stressful and incredibly time consuming to say the least.
By 10am, you’re ready to call it quits, but you constantly remind yourself that this job is your only source of income, and therefore, you have to barrel through with a bright and shining customer service smile on your face.
At this point, you really wish you did smother yourself with your pillow last night.
But the only thing that keeps your sanity in tact after the morning rush is the chance to make arrangements for the front display. It’s therapeutic to pick and choose foliage, sprucing them into beautiful pieces of art for passersby to enjoy. You’re grateful for the scent of seeded eucalyptus and baby’s breath which is remedial to your burgeoning headache. Even the sight of your favorite carnation is enough to ease the pounding pain against your skull.
However, making arrangements isn’t all sunshine and flowers despite popular belief. The worst part about it is the heavy lifting. It’s labor intensive to pick up large plants like the full sized leatherleaf fern in the back room, which is now carefully lodged into a concoction of gardening soil, compost, mulch, and active charcoal. But if nobody else is going to do it, you’re going to have to do it alone.
Lifting the hefty plant isn’t difficult to begin with, but it progressively becomes taxing when you have to carry it to the front of the store. As you emerge from the back door, the bell of the entrance chimes, signifying a customer’s presence.
You can hear him before you can even see him.
“Good morning!”
You nearly jolt at the sound of his chipper voice. Of course Jimin had to walk in at the peak moment of you struggling, looking like a disheveled mess with soil accumulated in your hair like a burrowed nest. You just hope and pray that it’s not smeared across your forehead like Simba.
Out of pure embarrassment, you hold the pot higher to hide your burning cheeks behind the plant despite your arms giving out. Would all of your problems disappear if you act like you’re not there? Once again, of course not, because he spots you in an instant, and you’re just not fated to have the good things in life.
He calls out your name before stopping to place his things down at the table and rushing over to you, “Here, let me help you with that.”
You have an ironclad grip on that ceramic pot, holding on to it as if it’s life or death. “No, it’s okay, I got it,” you say out of pure, frantic determination.
“Don’t be silly, let me.” He reaches for the bottom of the earthenware. His hand grazes over yours before you can pull away, shifting the responsibility onto him.
You offer him a grateful smile that extends your eyes, and he sends one back your way.
“Where do you want it?” He asks. You can’t even get a word in before he turns on his heels and makes space for you through the narrow aisle.
Leading the way, you show him the spot you’ve marked for the fern to hopefully reside for the next 24 hours. “Here’s good,” you tell him, pointing to the empty tile.
Jimin bends down and gently places the plant into its new home. Then he reaches into his messenger bag, pulling out a packet of tissues before gravitating towards the spray bottle.
“I’m a big girl, you know? I could do it myself,” you whine with a slight pout.
He grips on your right shoulder, and you’re locked in place. “I know, but I want to help,” he says with the utmost care, “And you can ask me for help whenever you need it, you know?” Jimin smiles at you, and his eyes lower into crescent moon shapes, the corners slightly creasing. Before you know it, there’s a cool sensation on your forehead. The tissue in his hand is thoroughly saturated and now damp against your skin. You recoil on contact and reach for Jimin’s wrist, ready to yell at him for the lack of warning.
“Hey!”
“Stay still, you have soil on you,” he alerts with sharp eyes.
You let go of his wrist and give in to his kind gesture, murmuring out a “fine”.
While he concentrates on cleaning you up, you can’t help but look up and lock your eyes on his. You swear you could spontaneously combust and astral project from the intensity of his stare. His close proximity makes you heat up, so you’re forced to avert your eyes elsewhere out of pure intimidation. Your line of sight meets his lips, and you’re stuck in place, staring at them. They’re so pink and plush, and his tongue even pokes out a little like a sleepy kitten with slack jaw. Most of all, they’re right there in front of you, and if you could just lean in a little more, you’d be this closeー
“All clean!” He says with cheer, tapping your shoulder.
He turns around in search of the dustbin, and you shake yourself out of your own daydream before he can catch sight of you.
You laugh it off and offer him a toothy smile, “If you really want to help, you could have gotten me a cup of coffee.”
“You’re making demands now, huh?” He asks.
“It’s more like a suggestion than anything,” you teasingly yell from the back room, grabbing the remaining flowers for the display. Meanwhile, Jimin lingers behind in the main room, admiring the freshly cut flowers laid out on the counter ready to be made into floral arrangements.
You manage to recompose yourself from that one moment of weakness by taking a glance over at the cute doodles of artwork that line your office wall. They’re little bits of happiness that keep you calm and remind you that there’s light in your life, and he’s standing in the other room waiting for you to pop a very important question.
Upon grabbing the necessary items, you make your way back into the store. You stop immediately in your tracks, nearly colliding into a solid figure at the sharp turn of the doorway. Your heart almost stops, but you shudder away before you could tip yourself over.
Jimin stands in front of you with his hand extended out, clenching onto a steaming, white paper cup.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of me and coffee now,” he laughs, reaching out once again, “Only one of us bites.”
“That’s for me?” You ask incredulously.
He nods his head, “Yeah, of course, silly.”
You take the drink from his hands, and before you can thank him, he chimes in. “It’s just how you like it. Black and full of caffeine.”
You press your lips up against the cup, taking a sip and humming in satisfaction at the drops of heaven. “Thanks, but why? And how’d you know my coffee order? Don’t get me wrong, this is really nice, but…”
“I saw how dead you looked yesterday,” he justifies cutting you off before you can ramble on. Honest, but harsh.
You put the cup back on the counter and continue with your task at hand, and he trails behind you.
“Thanks, that’s what every girl wants to hear,” you banter with all the sarcasm you can muster, pulling at the flower stems despite them already being placed exactly where you want them.
“Girls like it when guys pay attention to the little details, don’t they?” He asks with a gleam in his irises.
You look up at him briefly before averting his eyes and wiping clean the leaves on a near fiddle leaf tree, spraying food soil at its roots.
“Love it,” you gulp wryly.
Jimin takes note of how seemingly busy you are, so he walks around the shop, examining the new inventory of flowers. After making your round through the store, watering all the plants that need to be watered, you return to the disembodied zinnia on the counter, waiting to be arranged.
The silence is refreshing until it isn’t.
“Is the coffee good?” He queries.
“Huh?” You stop what you’re doing to casually glance his way. His back is turned to you, but he seems overly invested in the rose display.
“The coffee,” he repeats, back still turned.
You look at the untouched cup at the edge of the table and smile to yourself. You didn’t notice it before, but there’s a red doodle that contrasts against the white paper cup, no doubt customized by Jimin himself. It’s hard to pick out what it is exactly, but you’d recognize the flowers of God any day. The ruffled petals and thin, straight stem are simply unmistakable.
“Oh, yeah. It’s good,” you answer politely.
“What’s your favorite kind of flower?” He asks curiously as if he’s playing a game of 21 questions. It’s a question you’ve answered numerous times before, but facts like these can easily slip through someone’s mind.
“Easy, carnations,” you respond without any hesitation, pointing at the display in the right corner of the store when he turns around to look at you. He makes his way to the stand, eyeing the flowers.
“They’re pretty,” he comments, pulling out one of the bouquets to examine as if he didn’t already know.
You hum, and maybe the exhaustion is evident in your voice and your oddly scarce exchange of pleasantries.
Jimin carries on with the small talk anyways. “You’ve been sleeping okay?”
You snip away at the hard, green stems, tossing them into the trash beside you. Shrugging, you mindlessly answer. “Yeah, as much as a florist can during Valentine’s week.” You snicker with good spirit.
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t rest well,” he scolds you all in good faith, eyes now scanning the small assortment of cards. You hum in affirmation.
If anything, he should be telling that to your noisy neighbor who refuses to let you get a wink of sleep.
A creak rings through the air as Jimin rotates the card stand, thumbing through the variety. “Do you have plans for Valentine’s Day by the way?”
You can feel your hands clam up as they stop fiddling with the lemon leaves. Your heartbeat picks up, and you’re left winded by the question. You hide behind the hesitation, nervous as to where this may lead. How could you possibly play it cool when your crush asks you whether or not you’re busy on arguably the most romantic holiday of the year?
Play it cool because remember, you loathe Valentine’s Day.
Your hands fumble as you pick up the lemon leaves again, snipping at the branches nonchalantly. “Uh, no, not really, you?” you gulp. Your eyes are distracted, too fixed on the greenery.
But you look up the moment Jimin approaches the counter with flowers in one hand and a card in another.
“Oh, who are these for?” you feign innocence in your voice as you reach for the brown kraft paper and the roll of red ribbon.
Jimin scratches the back of his neck, hesitating. “My girlfriend,” he mumbles, but it’s loud and clear, audible enough for you to apprehend like an echo in you ear.
“I don’t have much planned yet, but we’re probably going to grab dinner on Friday,” he shrugs with hands burrowed in his pockets. He shifts his weight on the balls of his feet, eyes focused on the gray specks of the ceramic tiles beneath him. “Something casual. I’m not really huge on the whole Valentine’s Day thing.”
It seems like every man in your life paints you like a giant fool destined for humiliation. Of course the hopelessly hopeless romantic within you deluded yourself into believing that some Prince Charming would visit your flower shop in anticipation of seeing you. Of course the flowers that he buys everyday has to go somewhere, you just never expected that each and every morning at the crack of dawn, the flowers you carefully hand-pick and wrap with unconditional love would be sent off to his girlfriend.
Of course you’re a huge idiot who isn’t destined for love.
It almost hurts to plaster the tight lipped smile on your face when your heart is prickled with thorns like the roses in your hands.
You lick your lips and painfully gulp the spit down your dry throat before you open your mouth again.
“Jimin?”
“Yeah?”
You pause. “You can’t give these to your girlfriend”
His eyebrows furrow and his hands run through his hair. “What do you mean?”
“They’re white roses.”
“So? She likes white flowers.” He doesn’t seem to get the point.
You almost chuckle in his face, and you would have if your heart didn’t hurt so damn much. So you refrain. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that white flowers are meant for funerals?”
His cheeks are dusted with a pink blush. He shakes his head no. “Uh, what do you suggest I give her then?”
You sigh, looking at the hopeless man in front of you. “Do you love her?” Not even a second goes by before you ramble, not very eager to hear the answer. “You could uh- give her that fern you helped me carry earlier.” You walk back to the front display, keeping a safe distance to hide your woe, extending your arms out like a game show host revealing what’s hidden behind door #1. (Hint: it’s your heart).
“Call it your love fern?” you shrug, laughing it off.
“I think a bouquet is fine.” Jimin staggers behind you, checking out the other flower displays, opting for door #2. “How about the carnations you mentioned?” He pulls out a bouquet of variegated carnations painted with pink and red tips. “These are nice, don’t you think?” He looks at you curiously with doe eyes in await of your approval.
Your mouth opens to interject, ready to digress into another lesson on the history of variegated carnations, but you bite your tongue back.
Jimin spots your reluctance, but quickly puts it to rest. “Look, I don’t think she really cares about the meaning behind the flowers. You said these are your favorite, and you’re the expert right?”
You nod, unable to trust your voice. “Mhmm.” Even your hum cracks. “But uh, maybe the deep red ones would be more appropriate?” You cock your head to the side and quirk your eyebrow.
“It’s fine, I swear” he reassures you, placing the bouquet on the counter before putting the white roses back in its stand.
Your feet refuse to move as if they’re cemented to the ground, but Jimin stands there in front of you with rosy eyes, awaiting for you to wrap up the object of his affection in a pretty red bow. So how could you refuse?
You walk past the carnation display on the way to the counter, and pick up another bouquet. Pink and red variegated. “Here, these are a little more fresh. The buds are tighter, so in a few days, you’ll see them nice and big.” You smile, closed lipped. “Just in time for Valentine’s Day.”
Jimin’s jaw loosens and his lips part. He knits his brow in a frown. “Uh, these aren’t actually meant for Valentine’s Day,” he says, running his hand through his perfectly imperfect raven hair. “She’s kind of mad at me right now,” he gives a mirthless chuckle while playing with his hands, “so I’m hoping I can make it up to her with this.”
Ah, your favorite flowers are reduced to nothing but a gift of pity.
“She’d be crazy not to accept your apology,” you say in a soft voice, gritting your teeth behind your tense jaw, eyes fixated on the little nursling in your hold. With a soft hand, you unravel the kraft paper and delicately wrap it around the bouquet. The very one you picked up this morning and arranged the hour prior, wondering if you’ll be able to send it off to a loving home.
Now you know for a fact that it’ll be in good hands.
“Do you think she’d like it?” Jimin chirps in.
It feels like your heart is on the threshold of bleeding out as he sends another prickle to the soft organ. Your concentration doesn’t even falter as you snip the ribbon.
“I know she will.”
You tie the fabric into the prettiest bow you can muster and slide the gift of love across the glass counter. Jimin looks down at the beautifully wrapped flowers with an ear to ear smile on his face. “Thank you so much for the help, I really appreciate it.”
“Just doing my job,” you remind him with a counterfeit smile, scanning the barcode at the back of the card. It’s a really cute card too. Sometimes I wonder how you put up with me then I remember I put up with you. So we’re even ❤️
You hate yourself for the fond smile you almost crack, masked behind the pained one you send his way.
Jimin passes you a $20 bill and grabs his merchandise from the table.
“She’s really lucky to have you,” you lament honestly with glistening eyes as he walks out the front door.
He doesn’t catch a word you say, but he manages to shout back a “thank you!” and a “see you tomorrow!” before speeding out, setting off the bell at the top of the door without ever looking back at your dejected figured.
You’re left alone to finish the rest of the work day, surrounded by none other than the sickly, sweet scent of seeded eucalyptus and baby’s breath, all while taking in the putrid sight of variegated carnations.
They say that you are your worst enemy, and they are 110% correct on the matter. You don’t know why you would think that you’d have a good day on the basis of your neighbor having a crummy one. It’s not like there’s some kind of transfer of energy. It’s been proven to you time and time again that divine intervention and karmic justice just aren’t real, and apparently, neither is science. Otherwise, by that logic, you’d have a superb day.
You would have slept through last night and woken up to a pretty pink sunrise painted across the sky— nothing but peace. To the chirping of birds in the distance and to the passing of cars on an empty street. You would have had enough time to prepare a proper breakfast— pancakes, eggs, bacon, and maybe even a nice cup of hot chocolate. Not a measly cup of black coffee to keep you awake for the rest of the busy day. You would have had a nice chat with Jimin at the flower shop about the capitalistic corruption of Valentine’s Day while he’d try to convince you otherwise. He’d prove you wrong, and you would have walked home with a blooming garden in your heart.
But science is bullshit and the transfer of energy is a complete lie— photosynthesis being the only exception. The only thing you got out of today was a huge migraine and a withering blossom in your chest.
So just when you think that the day could not get any worse, it absolutely does.
You can probably blame the poor mindset you boxed yourself in— having a cynical outlook on love and life because of the dreaded upcoming holiday. Maybe it was because your crush just stomped all over your garden and plucked the flowers to give to some other girl. Or, you can put the blame on past you, the big freaking idiot who previously stripped off her bed sheets at 6:30 in the morning in hopes of being productive by doing weeks of piled up laundry. At this point, all you want to do is curl up in a warm bed, too exhausted by the trials and tribulations of life, but you can’t even give yourself the satisfaction of that because you thought you were some kind of changed woman who could manage her stupid laundry.
Newsflash, you’re not.
The naked mattress in the corner of your apartment mocks you, so grudgingly, you take your laundry basket down to the laundry room for your most hated chore. With heavy steps, you trudge through the cold, cement basement. It’s dark and dingy down there. A little scary too, given the flickering lightbulb at the end of the hallway. Nevertheless, you march through the doors and into the rumbling alcove.
What you find in there is startling, yet you can’t say that you’re surprised seeing that this occurrence is far from rare. You almost consider walking back upstairs and knocking on your floormate’s door, asking him if he’d be willing to do your laundry in exchange for $5 just so you don’t have to sit there, listening to some couple make out in the back corner.
Apparently, everyone in the world is foolishly in love except for you.
You crank up the volume a little louder so your cheap headphones can drown out the sound of them locking lips with one another, but the poor quality does absolutely nothing for your abused ears. The boisterous public display of affection is deafening over the sound of your “Wallowing in Self Pity” playlist.
You’re only capable of catching a brief glance in their direction before gagging and veering off. She’s sitting atop of the washing machine as he stands between her parted legs. They’re so lost in their own world that they don’t even notice your presence.
Out of respect for yourself and the horny couple, you choose to occupy a washing machine at the opposite corner of the laundry room. But perhaps you can save yourself the irritation as well as the $5 in your wallet because you can hear their hushed whispers. They’ve separated themselves long enough for the guy to convince her to move to a more private location. Although she still leeches herself onto his neck, he’s attentive enough to know that they aren’t alone. He picks her up and drags her out of the laundry room with her legs wrapped around his waist, unwilling to part from him as if holding his hand simply isn’t enough.
You roll your eyes, thankful for the quietude and the money you’ve saved yourself, but as you sit alone in the drafty basement, doing the chore you hate the most, you can’t help but think how much better it would be to do it with someone else at your side.
Somehow you’re convinced that crossing paths with Jeongguk in the hallway is fated after thinking about him moments prior. Because it’s very uncommon for that boy to leave his apartment, cooping up all day long with his video games, only to catch a breath of fresh air for his nightly gym sessions. When you see him locking up his apartment door, you offer him $5 anyways just out of the kindness of your heart. He could probably use the money more than you anyways.
Although you didn’t have any intention of doing a good deed today, karma still finds a way to punish you. As always, it’s bullshit.
Upon entering your empty apartment, the space is already filled with the sonorous sounds of orchestral music. Violins, violas, cellos, flutes, oboes, and harps all performing in perfect harmony. It’s played through the walls, coming from none other than the speakers of your beloved neighbor. You wouldn’t mind the soothing classical melodies to cure your migraine so long it’s accompanied by white noise. But your neighbor’s laughter rings above the music as you can hear him count “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3” in a triple metre.
You know that he’s not alone because there’s also another voice laughing alongside him. The same one you’ve grown accustomed to over the months. Her high pitched squeals are unmistakable as they greatly resemble other sounds you’ve heard come from her mouth on many unfortunate nights. So you can safely assume that your neighbor and his not-girlfriend made up with one another already—
“Look at me, not at your feet!”
“I don’t know where to put them!”
“You’re stepping on my toes!”
“Sorry!”
“Oh yeah, you’ll be sorry!”
It’s hard to picture what’s happening behind the wall when you don’t have faces to match with the voices. But you don’t really need it when their bed slat creaks beneath their weight and their headboard slams against your shared wall. Not when her yelps erupt as a result of the tickle fest they’re currently immersed in. The sounds are vivid enough for you to know much more than you need to know. It almost feels like you’re intruding on an intimate moment that’s not meant for your eyes, let alone your ears.
Meanwhile, as you struggle to tuck the fitted sheets beneath the four corners of your mattress, you wonder whether it’s worth it to leave the apartment again after such a hard day. Of course for the sole purpose of avoiding a home made porn video being filmed in the process.
Maybe it’s not too late, and you can still catch up to Jeongguk. You could head to the gym and snatch back the $5 you generously handed him because the more you think about it, the more you believe that someone owes you for your miserable time spent in this apartment complex. But you can’t take your anger out on the poor boy from down the hall when he doesn’t deserve it.
The sanctuary of your bed calls your name like a siren, so instead, you do what you’re forced to always do— plug in your cheap headphones, blare out some music, and move on with your day.
And it works for the most part.
You’re able to successfully put on your bed sheets after struggling to play a big game of tug of war with your mattress. Despite the internal push and pull, you also will yourself to do adult things like tidying up the studio, making the space somewhat habitable for humans. By 9pm, you can finally sit down and enjoy a nice, hot meal. However, you’re forced to keep your headphones on because your neighbor’s not-girlfriend decided that she couldn’t go a single day without her not-boyfriend’s dick in her mouth.
You swear you’re going to ask him tonight why he hasn’t made it official because it’s clear as day that they’re in love with one another. You know that you definitely would be if someone offered you oral every single day. Unfortunately, nobody’s offering. Thus, you’re forced to live vicariously.
So as midnight approaches, and the moon reaches its apex, you settle into bed with a book in hand, ready to suffer through the night. It’s difficult to concentrate on the text when your music is blasting, but you suppose it’s better to listen to lo-fi hip hop beats as opposed to the scream of “daddy” over and over and over…
Although you applaud her for her shamelessness, you would still prefer if she could keep to herself.
Thankfully, these moments are only temporary.
With your eyes squeezed shut, you let out a lethargic yawn. Looking over at your nightstand, you spot your ticking alarm clock. It’s nearing 1 in the morning, and you decide that you’re exhausted. Well, you’ve decided that long ago, but going to bed before midnight is admitting defeat against your own body. Nevertheless, no matter how tired you are, you know in the back of your mind that there’s no way you could have dozed off with your neighbors going on a Netflix binge with speakers fully blaring audio from The Office. It’s as if they don’t know what headphones are.
But after “one more episode” and a disgustingly long makeout session, you can hear the shuffle of feet across the floor boards and the turning of the lock.
It’s nearly 2 am, and the radiator hisses. It’s quiet.
But then that’s when you hear it like clockwork. The delicate hum before the pleasant tune. Tonight, it’s not a song you’re familiar with. Something about the universe moving and happiness that’s meant to be. Mentions of penicillium and a calico cat? There’s lots of talk about letting someone love you, and that’s when it really hits you in the gut. You’re not so sure about the song, but as always, it sounds pretty. It’s not typical to call a guy’s voice beautiful, but it is what it is. It’s serene, and it’s the promise of tomorrow. It’s something you wish that would never stop.
But of course all good things come to an end.
There’s a purposeful knock against the wall which startles you. “Hey, I know you’re up. How’d your day go?” Your neighbor asks, breaking the silence and dragging your attention towards his voice once again.
You tug your headphones off and walk to the other side of the apartment to lay your book down on the desk, gracefully avoiding anything in your wake because your apartment is finally clean.
“You know, sometimes I wish you would catch me on my good days so I wouldn’t have to tell you such sad stories.” A wary smile surfaces your lips.
“Why, what happened today?” He asks with concern laced in every syllable. “Did you take my advice?”
You climb back into bed, pulling your covers over your torso. Sometimes you feel bad about how many silent complaints you have about your neighbor when he’s actually a really nice guy. He just lacks the proper etiquette knowing that the walls are paper thin.
“IIIIIII tried to.” You drag out the vowel, hesitant to recall the embarrassing story.
“Yeah, and how’d it go?”
“He doesn’t like me back,” you say plainly after a moment’s reflection.
Your neighbor scoffs. “He’s an idiot then.”
You try to fight back the smile because as untrue as it is, Jimin is anything but an idiot. But it’s comforting to know that someone has your back, defending you in all your honor.
This time, you genuinely chuckle. “It’s not that.... He uh, actually has a girlfriend.” It hurts to admit it out loud. “And I’m sure she’s lovely if he likes her that much.”
“Like I said, he’s an idiot for losing out on the best thing in his life.”
It’s impossible for you to fight back this bashful smile because it makes your heart flutter. This may be the first time you’ve felt good about yourself this whole day.
“Thanks, but I don’t know about that though—”
He interrupts you, “Come on, don’t say that. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
You shake your head in disbelief, “You’ve never even met me, and you don’t even know what I look like.” You roll your eyes, but a chuckle unintentionally falls from your lips.
“It’s not about what’s on the outside, okay? I already know you’re beautiful because that’s what you are on the inside.”
“Shut up, that’s so cheesy.” You flip over on your bed and dig your face into the pillow, flustered by his kind words. There’s absolutely no way people this nice exist in this world. “I could be a troll or a vampire or something for all you know.”
“Vampires are kinda hot. Haven’t you seen Twilight?” He banters. “And I’m sure this guy isn’t even all that great. Like, tell me something you hate about him.”
Your hands cover your mouth, stifling a laugh. “I’m not gonna hate on him because he doesn’t like me back. It’s just the reality of it. Besides, he’s perfect.” You roll your eyes, annoyed by how flawless Jimin is in your eyes.
Your neighbor prods at you. “I reaaallly doubt that. There has to be something. Not even a pet peeve? Maybe he’s chronically late to everything? Sings out loud in a quiet place? Has a super annoying laugh?”
“Yes, yes, and no.” You flip your pillow over to the cold side and settle in to lie in a more comfortable position, slipping your hand beneath the cushion. “I can excuse the lateness,” you lick your chapped lips. “He also sings like an angel, and his laugh is really endearing. He does this thing where he laughs with his whole body, and he falls over every time. I like it because I know he’s at his happiest then,” you remember zealously.
“Damn, I guess I’m just projecting my own flaws now, huh?” You can hear him snort from laughter, rolling his neck and cracking the joints in his body, and then the click of his knuckles, 10 of them, one after another.
“Ugh,” you scrunch your nose, “Don’t do that. He does it too, and I guess that’s the only thing he does that really gets to me.”
Your neighbor cracks another joint somewhere on his body just to annoy you, and you cringe. “See, now we’re talking.”
“I was gonna tell you that you sing well too and that I like your laugh, but maybe I’ll have to reconsider,” you taunt. “But still, you shouldn’t put yourself down for the things that show off your happiness.”
The bed creaks from the other side. He must have switched positions for that to happen. “Thanks,” he offers. His voice is muffled, face most likely pressed up against his own pillow. “How about you tell me about the things you like about him?”
“What? Are you trying to wound me?” You ask, slightly hurt.
He scoffs, “No, I’m trying to prove a point here. So, tell me.” He implores like this is some kind of couple’s therapy session. Apparently, without your other half.
As moonlight filters through your curtains and the cars whiz by on the empty street below you, you consider all the things you love and appreciate about Jimin.
“I love how selfless he is. He’s caring and attentive... He’ll know when I’m tired and he’ll offer me coffee. He also scolds me for sleeping late and he lifts my burdens for me, even when I don’t ask him to.” You close your eyes in retrospect of Jimin and all the good things in life that he embodies. “It’s not even the things that he does for me that make me like him.”
Your neighbor hums, letting you continue.
“I guess it’s the principle that’s important.” You play with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, pulling on the edges to give yourself some comfort. “There are people in this world who aren’t… the nicest? I guess. And… he’s one of the purest people I know. It’s like he goes the extra mile to make sure I’m happy… and healthy.” You take a deep sigh before your mind wanders to the darker parts of your brain. “But I also know he treats everyone else like that too. Because he’s that nice. So... I guess I should have seen it coming that I wasn’t so special anyways,” you recall with tears welling up in the brim of your eyes and a knot tightening in your throat.
“Don’t say that, you’re one of a kind,” he assures you sternly, “What’s his name? I’ll go beat him up right now.”
You give a bitter laugh, wiping away at your eyes with the back of your hands.
“My point is that there are other guys out there who are just as caring. And they should make you feel special because you are, and it’s what you deserve. So if the next guy who comes along doesn’t treat you that way, I will beat his ass, okay?” He says in the most nonthreatening voice ever.
You chortle, “Okay, yeah, sure.” You’re not totally convinced of that.
“You’re probably right, I don’t want to fight and embarrass myself after promising you that,” he giggles.
“I appreciate the sentiment though.” Earnestly, you do. You don’t know many guys who are this nice, Jimin being the exception. “How ‘bout you though? It sounds like you made up with your not-girlfriend? I hope that wasn’t you in the laundry room earlier,” you tease, deflecting the attention away from you with a raised voice.
He gladly takes the bait. “Oh shit, that was you? I’m so sorry.” He rolls around the bed in a fit of sweet laughter, and the slat creaks. “And yeah, we did,” he breathes out with a shallow huff after regaining composure. He sounds nonchalant about it.
“You don’t sound very happy?”
“No, I am,” he deadpans.
You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Can you tell me what it is that you like about her?” You ask.
He doesn’t answer immediately like you’d expect, but he’s dwelling on the answer.
“I love how kind hearted she is,” he thinks out loud. “She’s a natural nurturer.”
You can hear the smile in his voice, and you can’t help but reciprocate because of how pure that is.
“Like... she’s always so bright, and…” he stops. “I just don’t know how to explain it. You’d have to meet her to know what I mean.”
“Yeah you should invite me over so I can meet her.” You both chuckle knowing that you should meet one another before meeting his fuck buddy.
“I think you’d like her actually. She has this beautiful soul… I- I don’t even know. She just sees the best in everyone. I know that she probably has her own struggles, but I don’t think she’ll ever let anyone know about them,” he mulls over, going on a tangent.
“Why’s that?” You curl up on your side, hugging your pillow like you do during every conversation with him. It’s as if he’s recalling a bedtime story for you. You let out another yawn, and although you’re on the verge of falling asleep, you stay up a little longer just to hear him talk.
“I’m not so sure why… I guess I love her and hate her for this...” He reflects.
You hum, acknowledging him while urging him to continue his train of thought.
“I don’t know... but she’s the type to suffer in silence for the sake of seeing other people around her smile. And… I don’t think she’ll ever admit when she’s hurt or when she needs help. She puts others before herself. Like, she’s so hellbent on putting on a happy face so that others can be happy too.”
You nod to yourself, understanding what he means with every word.
“And It’s not like she fakes her happiness or anything,” he continues as if clarification is needed. “She’s just… such a joy to be around. She makes everyone feel welcomed… and comfortable… And when she’s really happy, like genuinely happy, it feels like everything is right in the world.”
You can tell he has a big, doting smile on his face. One simply cannot talk about a love like this and not smile.
“I only wish that she’d be vulnerable with me so I can make her world a little brighter too.”
“That’s really sweet, and also, I lowkey feel attacked right now,” you let out a dry chuckle.
“Sorry,” he laughs. “But I think that’s why you two would get along well.”
“Set up a date, and I’ll come over,” you joke with raised brows.
“Hmm… I’ll have to think about it,” he teases. “Oh, but uhm... if we’re still on the conversation of what I like about her, physically, I love her smile. I swear to God I stopped in my tracks the first time I saw her… and it still happens every time.”
“That’s cute,” you smile fondly.
“When she looks at me, I think the whole world stops for a second because I can actually feel myself get vertigo,” he giggles innocently. “And she’s also got this super adorable snort-laugh that never fails to bring out the best in me. God, it’s beyond cute, you don’t even know.”
“It sounds like you’re in love,” you suggest, curling up tighter into a ball, squeezing at your pillow. “I don’t see why you haven’t made it official yet.”
The pause is filled by the whirring of the radiator and the ticking of the clock.
“Yeah… I don’t know either.”
Waking up, you find out that going to bed with a broken heart is a little easier than going to bed with a hopeful one. Perhaps it’s the emotional exhaustion that puts you to rest, but it doesn’t mean you’re any less fatigued. All your efforts are put into your work, and in a way, tending to flowers has served as a distraction from the wilting ones that reside in your chest.
When in reality, you should find a way to revive those instead.
But as Jimin stands before you, you can’t resist the shriveled petals that land in the pit of your stomach like cherry blossoms in the midst of spring. You really don’t know how you manage to bear discourse about Valentine’s Day when he’s unknowingly sitting there with wide eyes, listening to you talk about unreciprocated love that’s so obviously directed towards him.
“You mean to tell me that you read romance novels and watch rom-coms, but you hate the most romantic holiday of the year?”
“Exactly,” you nod as if it’s indisputable.
He gives you a questioning look with a crease on his forehead and lips pressed together in a straight line. “Make it make sense,” he challenges.
You finish chewing on the forkful of salad you popped into your mouth before answering. “Can I rant about it?”
Jimin gives you the go ahead and you continue, “I don’t think you understand how much of a die-hard hopeless romantic I am.”
“Actually, I think I do,” he scoffs and raises his shoulders confidently with eyes closed as if it’s a matter of fact. “That doesn’t prove your point though,” he counters.
You put your hand up, motioning him to stop interrupting, “Let me finish.”
Jimin shrugs and grins from across the counter, allowing you to proceed.
“When I love something, I put my heart and soul into it. I believe in passion, chivalry, and true love.” He hums in agreement as you count down each item with your fingers as if it’s an unofficial list of all the things that encompass a hopeless romantic. “And for me, Valentine’s Day is a poor excuse to spend money and show off all the things you’ve received from your significant other.”
“That’s valid,” Jimin nods, agreeing while munching on his fries.
“Like, why spoil someone on this particular day? What happens during the other 364 days?” You spew.
Jimin mouths “365,” correcting you on the technicalities of a leap year.
You click your tongue, moving on to the point. “Are they not cherished for the rest of the year? I would hope that my boyfriend makes me feel special for more than a single night.” Your forehead creases, too livid at this point to even realize how sadly single you sound.
You’re too busy ranting, accidentally speaking over Jimin to hear him reassure you that you are special. “Also there’s just so much pressure to make the night special, as if they have to plan something, otherwise they’re not the ‘perfect couple’ or the ‘perfect man.’” You emphasize with air quotes.
“I felt that one,” he chuckles, shaking his head.
“You see my point now?” You acknowledge him sullenly. There’s a tug on your heartstrings at the mention of his girlfriend, but you drive your point forward in hopes of changing the direction of topics. You don’t even want to think about whether or not he’s made plans with his girlfriend yet.
“And what’s the deal with chocolates?” You yell, completely frustrated, throwing your arms up. “They’re totally overpriced. And cards? Cheesy and terrible. My Instagram feed? Flooded with PDA, and it's a big stab at singles like me.” You enunciate angrily, driving your fork harshly into your salad once again.
He laughs and nearly falls off the stool he’s sat on top of before swiftly catching himself. You snicker at his unadulterated cuteness.
“How ‘bout flowers?” He questions with ketchup lingering on the corner of his mouth.
Picking up a napkin from the edge of the counter, you mindlessly reach across to wipe at his lips, still in the process of ranting. “Don’t get me started on flowers,” you shake your head, folding up the napkin on the table. Jimin smiles at you as your eyes train on the fork that digs through your salad, stabbing into the poor vegetables. “Florists overcharge for them, and I hate it because I didn’t get into this business for the purpose of cheating people out of their money.” At this point, you’re rolling your eyes, seething at the thought of Valentine’s Day.
“Why’d you get into the business then?” He asks, silently offering his fries to you, the ones you’ve been eyeing ever since he revealed his lunch.
“Because I love flowers,” you say plain as day, reaching to grab a fry. “Because they make me happy, and when I send them off to someone, I know it’ll make their day a little brighter too.”
You wave the fry around in the air before sticking it in your mouth. Capping off your empty bowl of salad, you don’t seem to notice how Jimin looks at you and the understated beauty you exude.
“It’s cheesy, I know! You don’t have to look at me like I’m crazy,” you whine, briefly looking up at him with round eyes, turning around to toss your garbage.
Jimin flashes you a big, toothy smile, “No, you’re not crazy. You’re just... exactly what I thought you were.” His voice is low, almost as if he’s thinking to himself. As if they’re words you’re not meant to hear.
“Thanks? I think,” you giggle, unsure what he means. “Are you saying I’m predictable?” You inquire.
“I meant refreshing.” The crinkles at the corners of his eyes form as he grins. “I’m just trying to figure out why you don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day.”
“First of all, I don’t need a date,” you say in defense, teasingly offended.
“I know that, and you know what I mean. But you deserve to be treated like you’re speー”
“Second of all, I do have one.”
“Oh. You do?” He asks, creasing his brows and biting his plush lips.
“Yeah, with myself,” you jest with a smile, elbows resting on the counter with hands cupping your face.
Jimin’s chest deflates with an exhale, finally letting out the breath he’s been holding. “What, are you gonna watch The Notebook until you cry?” He pokes at your shoulder like a tease.
“I’m not that predictable,” you eye him with a gleam in your iris, fully knowing that it is the case. “But maybe,” you affirm with a sly smirk, “after I close up the shop at midnight though.”
“Knew it,” he scoffs. “But why are you closing so late? You should go home early so you can cry and watch The Notebook.”
“Mmm.” You hum, standing up from your stool and turning to hide the downturn of your lips. Running a rag underneath the faucet, you turn to wipe down the counter free of any crumbs. Jimin lifts his elbow up as you glide the cloth across the glass until it’s squeaky clean. “Let’s not forget that it’s Valentine’s Day, and I run a flower shop, Jimin. People are going to come by for a bouquet until the last second.” You exasperate, shaking your head in disapproval of all the last minute shoppers.
“You can’t get anyone else to lock up?” He suggests.
“They’ll hate me forever if I force them to work until midnight,” you reason, “Besides, it’s not like they’re single, so it’s fine. I can do it myself.”
“I really think you should be resting though. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, right?” He asks with concern in his intonation.
“I can take care of myself, I promise. I’m gonna treat myself after work anyways.” You do a little dance that consists of shimmying your shoulders and bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet.
He smiles at you endearingly with wide eyes, “I don’t think crying to The Notebook is a form of treating yourself.” He repeats as if the joke will never die.
You shake your head and click your tongue exclaiming, “If you must know, I’m gonna bake cookies.”
“Are you gonna share with me?” He pleads.
Your tongue pokes at your inner cheek as if you’re thinking about it. “Hmm, I don’t know. I might eat them all in one night.” Your lips purse in a taunt.
His mouth forms a pout, and you’re forced to give in to him and his bright puppy dog eyes.
“Ugh, fine, but only because you asked so nicely, I guess I can make some extras,” you groan, pressing your lips together straight like an arrow. You nudge his shoulder with your own despite the squeeze at your heart and the softening of your eyes, “For you and your girlfriend.”
It’s not like you had to mention it. But it’s been on your mind since yesterday, and you’re sure that the only way to fix a broken heart is to learn to accept it. Even if it means plucking out the thorns that are lodged in your heart until it feels numb. Empty and devoid of life.
“Girlfrie- oh, right, right. That’d be nice,” he sputters out, body stiffening, “Butー”
“Maybe I can bake them Thursday night?” You offer. “So you can pick them up on Friday if you buy flowers for her?” Your eyes blink in a failed attempt to wink.
Jimin stifles a laugh at your pitiful endeavor. It’s really pathetic how hard you try, pretending that you’re not hurt right in front of the guy who stormed into your garden.
But you suppose flowers can’t grow without a little bit of downpour.
He licks his lips, and his smile falters. “Riiight, but it’s okay, you should enjoy your cookies on Friday night because I’m not sure I’ll be around to buy flowers that day anyways.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, perplexed, head cocked to the side.
“Uh, don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, brushing it off before taking a look at his watch. “I have to head back to work though, my break is almost ending.” You watch him carefully with narrowing eyes as he collects his belongings, scrambling to head out the door. With the exit half opened, he turns around to bid you goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
The bell chimes and he’s out of sight.
You can’t even process his words because you’re too busy staring at the exit trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
Adulthood is just an endless cycle of sleeping and working, but it seems like you’re lacking in the former activity seeing that all you do is work. In the final stretch of Valentine’s Day, with a few more days to go, you’re just about ready to crash and burn.
Upon entering your quiet apartment tonight, you fail to do anything productive. You nose dive into bed and curl up into a cocoon at the strike of 10 pm. Somehow, you don’t even care enough to tug off your jeans or remove your smudged makeup. You’re ready to accept the consequences of bad skin and a stained pillowcase because the only thing that matters is that you knock out the moment your head hits the soft linen. There’s no time to replay the events of today or plan for tomorrow when your eyelids weigh you down into a deep slumber.
There’s not a single thing that can spur you. Not even the shining of the moonlight over your profile or the rhythmic whizzing of cars on the empty street beneath you. Even when there’s a police siren ringing in the distance or a rumble from a descending airplane in the atmosphere above you, you don’t bat an eye. You can’t even hear the hum of the rusty pipelines when your neighbor hops into the shower at the breach of dawn. Even the whirring radiator and the ticking clock blurs into nothing but white noise.
They’re all there to keep you company as you lie down in a bed of withered roses. To offer you comfort in your barren Renaissance garden.
You can’t seem to put your finger on it, but you wake up feeling like it’s the best night of rest you’ve gotten in the last week despite it being a short lived slumber. It’s definitely the most consistent night of sleep you’ve had in a while. And even though you went to bed without dinner, it didn’t hinder your sleep whatsoever. It only means that you can eat a full breakfast to power through the day.
And powering through is what you do best.
Apparently, the world is up against you because you can’t remember the last time you even got to sit down. You’re constantly on your feet, attending to customers and fulfilling orders. There’s no time to breathe even when you’re literally enclosed in a greenhouse. There’s always something to do, and stopping to take a break means slowing down the process. It’s not an option you want to take.
At the end of each day, you’re wobbling back home with sore muscles and blurred vision. Your ability to function is beyond your own imagination. Your definition of “functioning” has diminished to standing on your own two feet although that still bears a challenge for you.
The sustenance in your body is nearly nonexistent, especially because you’ve been neglecting your self-care. Typically, you don’t think about eating on the job. It’s honestly not on your mind because there are only two things that occupy your brain space: (1) Work and (2) Jimin.
Somehow, Jimin takes better care of you than you do yourself. And without him around, you’re a walking corpse. He’s always providing you with lunch and snacks, leaving you sticky notes with reminders to hydrate yourself. You didn’t realize that you needed him this much to remind you of the simple tasks like drinking or eating or… smiling.
Sometimes he draws cute flowers or scribbles plant puns on the post-it notes, sticking them onto obscure places that are hard for you to find. Your favorite one being the time he wrote “I love it when you call me big poppy.”
He claims that the notes are designed to make you laugh, even for the few that are not very funny. They definitely do brighten your day, especially when you have the ephemeral chance to glance at them hanging up above your desk in the back office. Smiling at the itty-bitty illustrations has become second nature to you. When you’re going through a rough day, aka everyday, and you’re in need of a breather, you wander into the back room to pace around, only to come face to face with a kaleidoscope of doodled butterflies spanned across a string of rainbow post it notes.
He once drew a sunflower and said something cheesy about how your laughter is the embodiment of sunshine— how it would be a crime against the flora population if you were to go a day without laughter.
It was corny and far from being right, but it was so perfectly Jimin.
When he does stupid shit like that, it makes you feel like the biggest lovesick idiot in the world. In your naive past, you thought that the smiles he sent your way were ones reserved for you and only you. You were convinced that the shameless flirting was a silent mechanism used to express his inclination towards you. You assumed that the daily visits to your flower shop were formidable attempts to get to know you better. A little part of you hoped that the songs he shared with you equated to sharing a piece of his heart.
You absolutely were sharing. You just didn’t realize that you’d be sharing with someone else.
So when Jimin consigns adorable puns that melt your heart, and he stops by with a cup of coffee, just know that they’re acts of friendship. When he spends his lunch breaks at the flower shop and sings songs that remind him of you, he’s coming from a place of kindness, not attraction.
It is true that Jimin’s your sunshine, but it’s also a fundamental principle to botanists that too much of something is bad enough, and too much of nothing is just as tough. And deceiving yourself into believing that he was all that you needed had scorched up all the flowers in your garden.
The drought he put you in didn’t prepare you enough for the brewing storm.
It pains you to say that you need him more than he needs you because even if he isn’t romantically interested in you, you would have hoped that he’d stick around as a friend. His waning presence leads you to believe that he’s simply not interested.
Maybe you were too invested in what could have been between the two of you, you failed to see what was right there in plain sight.
Somehow, you still wonder if he thinks about you as much as you think about him. And it’s pathetic granted you’re incredibly busy with work and your own crippling health. Yet thoughts of him still pop up throughout the day more than you would like. No matter how much you want to forget about your infatuation, you simply can’t will him away because of how often his beautiful face flashes before your eyes. You want to push him to the back of your mind, but whether you’re in need of a breather during your hectic schedule, admiring his stupid puns and butterfly mosaics, or you’re in need of some company in your eerily quiet apartment, doing laundry or having a meal all to yourself, you still can’t get the sound of his sweet laughter out of your head.
You don’t know how it’s possible, but you manage to close up shop long before midnight. It’s a blessing and a curse because you are absolutely wiped out. Not only are you mentally checked out, but ironically, your flower shop is destitute of flowers, completely sold out from the holiday. As you clean up the barren space, you can’t help but feel as if a big weight has been lifted off your shoulders. The stress of Valentine’s Day is over, and you can finally go home, lie in bed with a tray of cookies, and enjoy the beauty that is Ryan Gosling.
You even consider closing the store all of tomorrow because you need the day off to recharge. So as you print out and paste your notice on the glass door, you’re dumbfounded to come across a sliver of paper that’s already attached on the other side. Opening up the door and letting in a gust of cold air breeze by you, you remove the sticky note that’s been unknowingly attached to your entrance.
Not a daisy goes by that I don’t think of you.
The smile that tugs on your lips grapples against the ache in your heart. Quickly, the fond smile melts into one of hurt and disappointment. Your left hand balls into a tight fist, marring crescent moon shapes into your palms. Meanwhile, your right hand delicately fiddles with the tiny square between your fingers, debating whether or not you should crumple up the paper and toss it away to be long forgotten. You’ve never been so confused about your feelings until Park Jimin came into your life, but you tuck the little daisy doodle into the pocket of your coat with a sigh.
With every passing year, Valentine’s Day becomes a little more bearable than the previous. Tonight feels like any other night, but better. You’ve come to accept that if there isn’t someone who can make you feel special, you might as well do it yourself.
Making a meal for you that doesn’t consist of ramen or 5 minute rice while dimming the lights and sparking up some candles is undeniably part of the healing process. And that’s what tonight mainly consists of. It’s all about love and self-care.
With your laptop perched on top of your dinner table and your Netflix queue lined up, you mindlessly mix at your wet and dry ingredients with a wooden spoon. Nothing has made you feel more at ease than the comfort of watching your favorite movie on repeat and the sweet taste of raw cookie dough on your tongue. Sometimes it’s the simple things in life that can put a smile on your face.
As you wait for your cookies to bake, you settle into bed with your legs crossed and back pressed against the headboard. Laughter from the speakers of your laptop fill the space, and you can’t help but laugh along with the characters, disrupting the peaceful ambiance of your apartment complex. The rumble of your laughter subsides, and the movie rolls on from scene to scene.
Your ears perk up like Pavlov’s dog when the oven goes off. You turn your head so quickly you nearly get whiplash, but it’s all worth it for the love of chocolate chip cookies. The aroma of sugar is enough to will yourself out of bed and conveniently press pause on Ryan Gosling’s charming face.
Pulling on your oven mitts to retrieve the hot platter, your body begins to sway around to the sudden echo of music. The soft guitar strums reverberate through the walls and against the vacant space of your studio. Your body stops moving to the acoustics when you realize where the noise is coming from. Looking up, your eyes bore into the eggshell walls as if you can see through it. But you soon space out, focusing on the vibrations of the nylon strings instead.
The song fades out and the quietude breaks you out of your reverie. You blink in confusion, trying to remember the last time you heard from your neighbor. Although you haven’t spent much time in your apartment in the past week, you miss the late night chats with him. Lately, you’ve been knocking out as soon as your head hits the pillow for some much needed rest. You haven’t heard his voice in forever, and especially not his angelic singing voice. Even tonight he refrains from singing in place of just practicing his guitar.
It’s a bit out of the ordinary.
His side of the wall is surprisingly quiet tonight. You would have expected him to be out and about with his girlfriend, but at this point of the night, they would have been jumping at each other's bones. Yet the gentle patter of footsteps and the lack of banging would suggest that he’s flying solo tonight.
Despite your curiosity, you’re not sure whether or not you’d want to bring it up in case it reopens some wounds. You think it’s best to leave it alone for the time being until he’s ready to come to you instead.
So as you proceed with bingeing your movies, there’s something in the back of your mind that still distracts you. It’s literally a crime that you’ve sat through 2 hours of The Notebook, yet you haven’t shed a single tear because you’re not even focused on the film in front of you. Rather, you’re thinking long and hard about the last time you heard your neighbor laugh in sincerity.
You really couldn’t care any less about the end credits that roll in front of you. Rather, with your chin propped up in the palm of your hands, you listen intently to what’s happening on the other side of the wall. It’s bizarrely quiet, aside from the sad symphony of string instruments that ring in the background of the ending credits.
When your screen turns black, you shut off your laptop and stow it away, knowing in your heart that you’re no longer in the mood for a romantic movie marathon. You make your way into your kitchen and reach for the cookies that have cooled off by now. But somehow, it feels wrong to sit here in enjoyment of your own company. Yet at the same time, this batch of cookies was the only thing you were looking forward to all week.
Nothing seems to satisfy you.
The only desire that creeps upon you is the desire to spend the night with someone else by your side. Frankly, it’s stupid because you know that you don’t need a man, and even the whole world knows that you don’t need one. Especially not on Valentine’s Day because you’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate February 14th with every fibre of your being.
However, the idea of having a friend at your side doesn’t seem so bad at this point.
You transfer all the cookies from the tray onto a smaller plate, arranging the delectable morsels into a presentable fashion.
With your slippers on, you make your way out of your apartment, letting the door close softly behind you. Standing in front of your neighbor’s abode, you nervously shift your weight on the heels of your feet. Midnight is approaching, and you wouldn’t want to disrupt his night like this, but it just feels right to knock on his door and offer your company. Just to check up on him because perhaps he’s in need of some companionship just like you. And who wouldn’t want some chocolate chip cookies? Baked with 80% sugar and 100% love.
Mustering up all the courage in your body, your hand comes up in a tight fist, knocking at the wooden door. You wait a moment, but to your dismay, there’s no evidence of movement on the other side of the partition. You would have heard his footsteps by now, and perhaps the turning of the deadbolt, but it’s dead silent.
Perhaps he didn’t hear you, so you knock a little harder this time.
Nothing.
As you stand outside, lost in naivety, you wonder whether you should try to make a fool of yourself and knock again. It’s been a good 5 minutes of you debating between speaking up to get his attention or giving up and retreating to your studio in embarrassment. Then you mentally facepalm yourself remembering that it’s incredibly rude of you to drop by without any kind of warning.
But still, you had his best interests in mind.
You think that the third time’s the charm, so in a last attempt, you knock with full force.
“Uhh, hey!” Your voice shakes and cracks. Blame it on the nerves. “I made some cookies, and I thought I’d share some!” You semi-yell in hopes of catching his attention.
“One second!” Oh, thank God. You can hear the bed frame creak on the other side and the skid of footsteps across the floor boards.
Your heartbeat weirdly picks up because of the fact that this is quite literally the first time you’ve come face to face with your neighbor. The late night chats with him have always made you feel comfortable, but there’s a certain nuance to meeting him that shakes your nerves.
You brace yourself as you hear the lock turn, eyes casting down towards the plate in front of you.
“I didn’t know that today’d be the day we meet like thiー” He says as the door swings open.
You look up expecting to greet him with a smile, but the one you had prepared falters from your lips.
“What’re youー”
“Y- You liveー”
You stutter over one another, lost in confusion. Staring into the very familiar set of brown eyes in front of you, you’re confounded by your new discovery.
Jimin stands before you, running his hand through his black locks as he opens the door wider, stepping aside to let you through.
“Hey, neighbor?” He sounds disoriented, untrusting of his voice.
You’re stood frozen at the foot of the entrance, unsure as to how you could possibly process all of this.
“I heard you made cookies?” He asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Here, come in.” He gently tugs on your sleeve, coddling you because of the state of shock you’re in.
You nod your head, barely cognizant of what’s being said. But your feet still shuffle through the entryway, and you slide off your slippers at the front door.
“This is so crazy,” he says, taking the plate of cookies off your hands. You’re both surprised that you have yet to drop them. He places the plate onto his coffee table, and his back is turned to you as you stand to the side, playing with the sleeves of your sweater.
How much weirder can this situation possibly get?
“You mean to tell me that we’ve been neighbors all this time and we didn’t even know?” You ask, sucking your lips inward, cocking your head to the side. Your words are a jumbled mess, but Jimin has become a master at deciphering your incoherent words through the thin walls many nights in a row.
“I’m just as surprised as you! I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots?” He exclaims in dismay, patting the seat beside him on the couch as an invitation to you.
Your brain feels as if it’s lost all of its cells because you have so many questions, yet you can’t seem to articulate them. As you sit down, you close your eyes and rub at your temples, praying that you’d wake up from this odd dream.
“There’s no way I could have connected the dots,” you sputter in collection of your thoughts, completely exasperated. “I just don’t understand.”
You fiddle with your fingers, and Jimin takes your hand in his. His touch is soft, and as much as you want to pull away, you give into him because there’s no way you’d ever deny him, especially not when he looks at you with those big round eyes.
“I have so many questions,” you admit, rubbing at your eyelids.
“Shoot.”
“Uhm,” your head shakes wildly. “I don’t even know where to begin?” Your eyes widen, shocked by how nonchalant he’s acting. As if he didn’t just lead you on and ghost you days on end, pretending that everything’s okay now.
“Take your time,” he chuckles reassuringly, offering you a calming smile.
“Uhm… How are you? I guess? Th- that’s kind of the first thing I wanted to ask you before… I- you know.”
Your heart gallops because he’s looking at you, biting his lip. And you, you are completely weak for the man who holds all of your affection in the palm of his hands, yet you can’t handle his smoldering stare, so you avert your eyes elsewhere. This is downright cruel and unusual punishment.
You continue, “Because I haven’t spoken to you much lately, you know?”
“You wanted to check up on me?”
You blink away, eyes now focused on the vase of wilting flowers on the coffee table. Pink and red variegated carnations. You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself and regulate your breath. Your body stiffens and your shoulders tense. Even your jaw tightens, but you manage to nod your head.
“I’ve been better,” he admits sullenly.
Your hand lets go of his, pulling back to seek comfort at your side. It just doesn’t feel right to hold his hand so intimately when he’s made a mess of your head and your heart. You just can’t do it to yourself, and you can’t do it to him or his girlfriend. Especially not when his heart belongs to her.
You open your mouth as if you have another question to ask, but none of them are coherent enough to utter. There’s plenty of noise ringing in your head, but it’s all nonsense.
Jimin gently rests his hand on the ball of your knee, almost like a graze, but his touch is hot, and you brush him off with the recoil of your leg.
His shoulders slump, and his eyes soften. His hands retract to his lap, respecting your wishes. He gulps, and noticeably the lump in his throat goes down in a swallow.
“Hey, it’s just me, okay? You don’t need to be scared.” He displays his palms out to you as a peace offering. A symbol of vulnerability. The tension in the air is palpable, but you still manage to keep your guard down in front of him.
Because this is Jimin. The guy you’ve come to know and unfortunately love. But it’s just that you’ve never seen Jimin like this.
“Yeah and that’s kind of the problem,” you breathe out. Your brows knit into a frown, and he looks at you in bewilderment, with wide eyes, parted lips, and stress tousled hair. “I- I don’t know if you’re Jimin the mysterious neighbor who’s been nothing but nice to me, or Jimin the guy from the flower shop who pretty much made it loud and clear he doesn’t want to see me,” you scoff.
“B- butー What do you mean? We’re the same person.” His eyes narrow, and he shakes his head subtly trying to convince you. He fiddles with his fingers, cracking his knuckles out of bad habit. Shifting his body so his knees are pointed towards yours, nearly in contact, he refrains from the much needed skinship. The heat radiating from his body is something you’re familiar with, and although it once brought you comfort, you can only feel resentment.
“Of course I want to see you? Iー I?” He’s a stuttering mess, shaking his head from side to side as if you’ve got it all wrong, but you interject because you have so much to say, yet you haven’t expressed yourself to your liking just yet.
“I don’t know about that!” Your hands clench up at your sides until your knuckles turn sharp. “Because neighbor Jimin is telling me he has a fuck buddy he thinks he’s in love with, and flower shop Jimin has a girlfriend he doesn’t want to talk about. So what is it? I’m hearing a lot about mixed feelings for this one person, and… if you’re involved with someone, I don’t want to get in the middle of this,” you spit out more harshly than expected, inching further and further away to the edge of the couch with your arms crossed over your chest. You gulp down a thick glob of spit in hopes of washing down the acidic sting in your throat, but it’s like bile just sits there on your tongue.
“Let me explain, okay?” He begs of you.
You sit there in sullen silence, staring at the carnations in your peripherals, ready to have him break your heart all over again. You nod, but you don’t even bother turning to face him, unsure whether or not you’d be able to hear him talk about how he’s in some complicated relationship with someone else.
“Please, look at me?” he pleads with a sniffle, “I need to know if you’re okay.” His voice cracks, and you finally look his way. You’re far from okay, but seeing him with glossy eyes, you also know that he isn’t either.
He licks his lips, and his hand comes up in desperate need of tucking the stray strand of hair that’s fallen in front of your face. But he decides against it in fear of rejection, and he rests his hand on the ball of his knee instead. Your line of sight falls to his shaking leg. You hesitantly reach across to close your hand softly around his in comfort. His movement stops instantly as he lets out a huff.
Licking your lips, your eyes gaze towards your hands, and you can’t help but imagine how they’d slot into one another so perfectlyー
“_____?” Your eyes shift to lock with his and there are tears that brim at his corners, but they’re kept at bay, refusing to fall.
“I-” He exhales.
You squeeze his hand a little tighter, and you don’t know if it’s more for yourself or for him, but it gives him the strength to continue on.
“Look, that girl and I? We weren’t in a relationship. I promise you. I told you that we were friends with benefits because that’s what we were.” He insists, hoping the message gets across to you, but your heart drops lower into your stomach at his admission. You don’t even want to picture him with some other girl, yet you know way more about their relationship than you would have ever wanted.
Hell, you were even convinced that they were in love. A highlight reel of the last few months spent in your apartment flashes before your eyes, and your grip on his hand loosens. You think back to the days when Jimin was just some faceless guy, dancing around with his supposed girlfriend, having pillow fights, running warm baths, making out beneath the stars, and fucking around with her like they were in love.
But he continues in hopes that you’d understand his point of view. “It was easier to tell you the truth because you didn’t know who I was, and you wouldn’t have judged me for it. So I was an idiot, and at the flower shop, I told you she was my girlfriend because it would have been easier to explain this complicated mess.” A single tear cascades down his cheek, and he wipes it away with the crook of his elbow.
“I mean, she wanted it to be serious, but there was just something pulling me back. And do you know what that was?”
You shake your head no and pull away, unsure how much more of this you can take.
He looks you dead in the eyes, but you can’t even look at him for another second because the wilting carnations are sitting there, mocking you.
“_____, you asked me the other day what I liked about her, and I was wracking my brain trying to come up with an answer... It wasn’t easy because you were the only person I thought about.”
A sudden tear escapes from the corner of your eyes, unbelieving, but you compel yourself to look back at his visage, checking for any tells of a lie. He doesn’t even falter.
“She and I? We fought so much because she was convinced I had feelings for someone else. And you know?” He shakes his head, “…It’s true. I couldn’t think about the things I liked about her, but then when I thought of you. My god, it was just so much easier to talk about the things I loved about you because you’re the one I like. I didn’t know how to express that, okay? The songs that I wrote? The ones you hear me sing day and night? Fuck…” He rubs at his eyes, and they’re evidently red from all the tears welled up. “They’re all about you, and you didn’t even know,” he sobs out. The first drop of tears came out steadily, but as you examine his face in total shock, the tears begin to cascade down his face.
You wrap your arms around his neck, now understanding where he’s coming from. It’s all a little more clear to you, and there’s no need to continue on if he’s in hysteria like this. His arms instinctively squeeze around your waist, holding on tight, too afraid that he’d lose you if he were to let go.
“I didn’t have my feelings sorted out because I was comfortable with where I was, but it’s not like it made me happy,” he confesses. You hush him, running your fingers through his hair and caressing his slumped back. Sitting in silence, you can only hear the sound of your breathing falling into sync with his. Occasionally, the radiator would go off and a car would drive by on the street beneath you.
You tell him that it’s all okay and that all is forgiven, but he still continues in justification of himself. “And I was convinced that you’d think I was a horrible person for liking someone else when I’ve got a complicated relationship going on, okay? Because that’s how I felt about myself, and I swear we broke it off, but I was too embarrassed to come to you because I didn’t know how to explain the mess I got myself into. It’s all my fault, and I’m so so so sorry, you have no idea.”
He’s wracked with sobs, but you hum, listening intently to his every word. They’re coherent enough for you to realize that you’ve both made mistakes because of a huge misunderstanding.
The Jimin that you know and love is right here in your arms, and there’s nothing you can do but forgive and forget.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he cries out with a hiccup. “I promise you that you’re the only person I care about.”
You whisper sweet nothings into his ear, hoping that he calms down because there’s really nothing to apologize for. “What did I say? You don’t have to be sorry, okay?” You remind him.
He lets out a breathy exhale, “I messed up,” he hiccups, “I don’t deserve this. You.”
Your hands rest on his shoulder, gently pulling back from him, but he clings on tighter to your waist. Looking down at the sweet man beneath you, you smile to yourself.
“Jimin,” you murmur.
“Hm?”
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” You shake your head, and a soft chuckle vibrates through your chest. Still, you keep him in your embrace because although it may seem like Jimin is the one in need of a hug, you need it just as much as he does.
“Can I tell you a story?” You ask.
“Yeah,” he breathes out, tickling the skin at your sternum.
“I think I caught feelings for you the first time we met. Do you remember that?” He hums as you reminisce on the memory. “It was some random Sunday, and you walked in looking for a bouquet for your mom, but you realized you didn’t have enough cash on youー”
Jimin laughs beneath you, and it’s the way that he laughs that makes you realize you need that in your life. A cheshire grin spreads across your lips, and that’s when you know you can’t go a single day without hearing his laugh again.
“You didn’t have enough cash, so you pulled out a post it note and scribbled an IOU.” You can barely get the sentence out without chuckling to yourself. Jimin has stopped sobbing at this point, being reduced to a few sniffles here and there. You deem it as the right moment to pull back from his embrace so you can look him in the eyes.
“You drew a little daisy for me and that’s when I knew you were really something else.”
You cup his cheeks, and a grin tugs on his lips, matching the one on your face. His eyes shine in the dim light, just like how the sun radiates in the day time. A single tear trickles down his plush cheeks, and you wipe it away with the pad of your thumb.
“Look, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember, and I have to admit that it hurt me when you said you had a girlfriend, but it really hurt me when you left without saying anything.”
His eyes cast downwards as if he’s ashamed, but you place your hand beneath his chin, bringing his attention back up.
“Know that I’d never judge you for the decisions you make and for the relationships you have, okay? And I don’t think you’re horribleー”
“You don’t?” He cuts you off with his big pleading eyes.
“No, far from it,” you beam, “I still think you’re the most selfless person I know.”
Jimin’s face drops at your confession, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like you’re not special, because to me, you’re the most extraordinary person in this world.”
He cups your face, noticing that your eyes are starting to well. Drops of tears roll down your face, and Jimin’s quick to dry them away, pressing his lips against your cheeks to collect the drops of salt water. As you smile, another stream of tears pour from your ducts. Soft pecks are trailed against your skin, and you think you’ve successfully washed away all the pain.
You can feel the flowers in your heart slowly starting to bloom in preparation for spring.
“Why’d you stop?” You ask, opening up your eyes. He’s merely a few inches away from you, stuck in a daze.
His eyes can’t decide whether they want to look at the gleam in your irises or at the curvature of your lips, flickering between the two.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” Your whimper is hardly loud enough for your own ears, but he hears you loud and clear.
His hands rest at the sides of your neck as his thumbs run over your cheeks, grazing over the flesh of your lips. “Can I show you how special you are to me?”
You nod your head, and Jimin is overcome with the urge to kiss you, inching closer with puckered lips. They’re soft against your own, plush and pillowy. You melt into his touch as if he’s the light of your life. You think you could cry again from the sheer amount of euphoria built up in your little heart. Having him in your arms is all you could ever ask for.
He pulls back slightly in need of a breath, and you take the opportunity to climb into his lap, with knees settled on either side of his taut thighs.
“Missed you,” you whimper against the column of his neck, nosing at the sensitive skin.
Jimin’s breath hitches as he bites back a moan, “Missed you more.”
“Not possible,” you trail gentle kisses against his collarbones, pulling back on the cotton of his t-shirt to expose more of his neck.
His hands rest on your outer thighs thighs, squeezing tight on the muscles. You reach behind you to grab at his forearms, urging him to move his hands higher onto your body. He takes the hint immediately and experimentally squeezes at your ass. Your lips part from his neck, and Jimin takes the opportunity to latch his mouth back onto yours.
His lips are gentle in contrast to the firm grip he has on you. But with your weight resting on top of him, core pressed up against his crotch, you can feel how hard he is beneath you. In need of some release, you start to move your hips back and forth, grinding over his hard on.
Jimin gives you a lingering kiss on your lips, pulling back with a harsh groan. You offer a teasing smile, and he leans forward. He supports your weight at the bottom of your ass as your legs wrap around his waist. You nearly yelp when he stands, holding you up in his arms.
“I got you,” he reassures, pressing his lips firmly against yours, walking towards his unmade bed space. He lays you down gently on top of the messy covers, climbing between your legs. You whine upon the release of his lips, but his mouth leaves hot kisses down the column of your throat, causing you to gasp.
“Is it okay if we take this off?” He asks, thumbing at the hem of your sweater.
You nod sitting up, and he tugs the material off for you, tossing it to the edge of the bed. Upon sight of your bare chest, he molds into you, lips suctioning around your pebbled nipple. His other hand massages at your unattended breast, squeezing at the supple flesh.
“You’re beautiful,” he hums against your body.
You’re easily affected by his words as your back arches and your legs hook around his torso. Canting your hips upward, you signal to Jimin with a whine that you’re desperate for his touch.
“There’s no need to rush, baby, we have the whole night,” he warns you, leaving a kiss between the valley of your breasts.
You cry out in frustration, but it soon subsides when he satiates your needs. You relax when his hand lowers into your sweatpants, cupping at your heat. His middle finger traces at your entrance, running it up and down your panty clad slit. Your hips lurch once again, but Jimin presses your hips down, flush against the mattress.
As his tongue circles around your sensitive nipple, his fingers decide to dip into your underwear. The obscene sound of your juices squelching can be heard when he presses his finger into your tight hole. Inserting a finger in, you can feel your walls stretch around him. A cry falls from your lips as he begins to rub at your clit with the pad of his thumb.
Jimin inserts another finger, and your cunt feels so hot with the amount of friction. Pumping two fingers in and out, there’s a pleasurable burn that ripples throughout your body. Beads of sweat form on your hairline, and you wipe them away with the back of your hand. You can practically feel your heart beating out of your chest.
“Tell me how it feels, okay?” He asks, switching over to your other breast.
“You feel so good,” you mewl. He hums against your nipple in affirmation, biting lightly at the perky bud.
“Jimin?” You call out for him.
He parts from your chest to look into your eyes, fingers still pumping in and out of you with flexing biceps.
“I think it’d feel better if you’d fuck me,” you admit, no filter needed.
“Shit,” he groans, slowing down the pace. “I want to eat you out first though.”
He retracts his hand, and you feel empty without him inside. Your sweatpants and panties are tugged off in one swift motion, casted to the side along with your sweatshirt. Looking up with stars in your eyes, you can see that Jimin is still fully dressed. You open your mouth to tell him about your wishes, but he must have read your mind because he pulls off his t-shirt and throws it with no regard.
Beneath his clothing, he reveals to you his robust body. You’re dripping with lust, and it must be so obvious from the way you stare at his abdominals. Everything about him is so well-built, and you curse the talented dancer in front of you.
“Like what you see?” He teases, winking at you as he descends down your body.
“Love it,” you moan.
His breath is hot against your wet pussy. With juices dripping down your ass, you ruin the linen sheets beneath you. His fingers play with your core, spreading your swollen lips to reveal your flower, admiring how pretty your cunt is.
Sitting up with elbows propped, you look down in frustration between your bent legs to see Jimin licking his lips, staring at your heat like he’s ready to devour you. He kisses at the long, dark lines of stretch marks that reside on your inner thighs before his tongue presses softly against your wet clit, kitten licking at the bud. Reaching out, your hand balls around the white comforter to anchor yourself down. As you spread your legs wider, Jimin’s hands hook around your limbs to rest at your thighs. He presses them down, restricting your movement.
His tongue laps at your heat with no mercy, licking a stripe up your sex and tracing letters onto your clit, sending your nerves aflame. Your breaths are shallow as you pant, melding yourself to the mattress. He flicks his tongue, prodding it against your hole and delving in and out. He massages your tight walls as it clenches around his tongue.
There’s a knot in your stomach that forms embarrassingly fast, but you can’t help it when his plush lips give your cunt so much attention, sucking harshly on your clitoris. He looks over at your features, taking notice of your reactions, licking over and over the parts that make you squirm the most.
Your face scrunches in pleasure, nearly toppling over the edge. But you’re not ready to come. Not yet at least. Not without having Jimin’s hard cock inside of you.
Jimin is relentless against your pussy, but he doesn’t even let up when you call his name out. Your grip around the comforter loosens in favor of digging your fingers into Jimin’s luscious black locks.
“Jimiiiin,” you whine, tugging lightly at his roots. “I need you, please, please,” you beg.
He leaves a kiss at your bud, and you shudder in response. Jimin climbs up your body, and you shiver at the loss of contact.
“You need me, huh?” He teases, “You want to come?” You nod your head ardently when he presses his red, swollen lips against yours. He grapples with your mouth in a bruising, passionate kiss. With clicking teeth and suckling tongues, you can taste yourself off of his plush lips, completely drenched in your arousal.
Trailing your hand down Jimin’s sturdy body, you can’t resist running your hands over his perfectly sculpted abs. But on your descent, you pull on the strings of his heather gray sweatpants, loosening the elastic around his waist.
Your palm slides beneath the band, tucking beneath his boxer briefs. His eyebrows scrunch, and he gasps against your mouth when you wrap your hand around his hot, veiny cock, stroking at his erection. His cheeks flush as you swipe your thumb over the head, collecting beads of precum on your fingers.
He shudders at your touch. “Oh my God, I might die if you keep doing that,” he nearly cries.
You smile against the skin of his neck, sucking at his pulse point. Meanwhile, Jimin reaches over to his nightstand, pulling out a condom. He nearly falls off the bed, losing balance on his knee when you stroke his cock a little faster.
As Jimin sits up, trying to open up the packaging, you careen forward to pull off his sweats. You can hardly pull it down below his thick ass given the position he’s sitting in. But it’s enough for you to pull his dick out and wrap your hand around his girth in all its glory.
While waiting for Jimin to take out the condom, you decide to tease him like he deserves. Switching positions, you lie down on your stomach in front of him. With a glob of saliva built up in your mouth, you spit onto the head of his cock, watching it drip down the shaft and onto his balls. You glide your hand up and down to spread the saliva, making sure he’s nice and wet. His balls tighten the moment you suckle your lips around his slit.
You look up at Jimin with wide eyes in hope of some praise.
His eyes stare into yours, but he quickly throws his head back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m not gonna last, please, I know your mouth is like heaven, but I want to be inside you,” he rambles.
He tucks your hair behind your ears and rests his hand beneath your chin, tilting it upwards. His lips meet your forehead in a sweet kiss before you lie back down on the bed, spreading your legs wide open as an invitation.
Jimin ungracefully pulls off his pants down the rest of his legs. He pumps his thick cock in his hands before sliding on the condom and lining himself up at your entrance. You groan, reaching out for his wrists as he glides his length up and down your folds, making sure you're nice and wet for him, fully prepped.
The callous on his thumb is rough against your clit as he rubs down on it, easing the discomfort of penetration. Your velvety walls stretch around his member as he sinks into you inch by inch.
You’re gasping for air as he sheaths himself inside you, but you remain calm because Jimin peppers kisses all across your face.
“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned.
“Mhmm,” you hum, “Might need a second.”
His nose nudges at your cheek, “Take all the time you need, baby.”
Moments go by until you’re comfortable with the stretch. You don’t know how Jimin has so much patience with you when you can literally feel his dick twitch inside your pussy, impossibly harder than he was moments prior. But like the angel he is, he still waits for your go-ahead.
“Jimin, you can move,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and offering a butterfly kiss.
His mouth finds his way to yours, and he kisses you with so much fervor. You’re too distracted by the kiss to notice him slide out of you.
But your lips part slightly, letting out a gasp when he drives his dick back into you, setting a moderate pace. Your hands reach for the skin of his back, latching your nails onto the smooth surface. The slap of skin on skin is obscene as his hips meet yours, pumping himself inside of you. The delicious burn has you digging your nails into his shoulder blades, scratching at his taut muscles.
You weren’t wrong to say that you can’t go another day without hearing Jimin’s laughter, but at the time, you were not privileged enough to hear his moans against the shell of your ear. That is the one thing you don’t want to ever live without, too spoiled by the sensual man above you.
Jimin fucks into you deeply, changing his angle as he shifts his weight onto his knees. His calculated thrusts to your g-spot sends you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes focus on your pussy, watching his dick disappear inside of you like an addiction. With a firm grasp on your hips, he lifts you higher to help you reach your orgasm.
“Jimin, I’m gonna come,” you gasp, gripping your walls tightly around his length.
“I know, baby, you can come.” He lowers himself onto his elbows so he can come face to face with you. His hands reach down between your bodies, and he rubs harsh figure eights on your swollen clit. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body trembles beneath him, moaning his name like a vice.
Jimin rides out your high, pumping into your tight hole until your legs nearly give out. He doesn’t dare pull away, continuing to circle your clit until you’ve nearly reached your limits. Your walls pulse around his cock, squeezing around his shaft until he’s nearly at his edge. His hair is matted to his forehead, slicked by sweat. You brush away the loose strands with the tips of your fingers.
“Are you close?” You breathe out, hush and quiet, cupping his jaw with the palm of your hands.
“Mhmm,” he gulps, rutting into you, pumping your cum in and out as it sheaths his shaft.
His pace falters as he approaches his orgasm, hips stuttering against yours. Jimin nearly collapses on top of you as he spills himself into the condom, moaning into the cusp of your ear. His chest presses up against yours as he attempts to catch his breath.
You trace soothing circles onto his back as he basks in the afterglow of post orgasmic sex.
His breathing soon evens out, and it’s comfortably quiet, that is with the exception of the radiator hissing in the corner of the studio.
“Wow.” He kisses your temple before pulling out, letting the remains of your cum flow out of you. He rolls over onto his back, pulling you into his warm embrace.
“So on a scale of 1-10, how special would you say you feel right about now?” A smug smirk tugs on his lips, and you playfully smack his pecks.
“Does this answer your question?” You ask, peppering 10 kisses onto his lips.
“Mmm, no, I didn’t quite hear your answer” he says, leaning in for another kiss, “Tell me one more time?”
And as Jimin kisses you goodnight, you know in your heart that the heartache and the loss of $5 are all worth it in the end if it means you get to wake up and smell the roses with Jimin at your bedside.
#bts smut#bts fluff#jimin smut#jimin fluff#jimin#park jimin#bts angst#jimin angst#bangtan#bts#fic: lover to lean on#fanfic#fan fic#fanfiction#fan fiction#flower shop au#jimin x reader#bts fanfic#bts fan fic#bts fanfiction#bts fan fiction#bts x reader#jimin scenario#jimin imagine#bts scenario#bts imagine
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The One Where [Y/N] [L/N] Can't Show Up To Her Toxic Family Dinner Alone, So She Turns To Her College Peer For Help.
Edited: 12-4-2020
Once your college professor dismissed the class as over you were quick to open your phone and check your messages. Once unmuted, it vibrated and chimed a dozen times bombarding you. Messages from your mother overflowed your notification bar. You just didn't have the energy to deal with it right now. With a scowl, you set your phone back to mute mode and harshly shoved it into your backpack.
"Everything all right?"
Your chemistry partner was pilling books back into his backpack when he asked you the imposing question. He zipped the bag close, stood up, and turned to you, giving you a concerned look as he slung his backpack on his shoulder.
"I'm fine."
"We've been partners for nearly a year, I think I know you enough to know when you're not fine."
Your eyes glanced up at the white-haired man before glancing back at your lap. Your chemistry partner, Natsuo Todoroki, was a nice young man. Natsuo was funny and kind, he noticed when you were having a bad day, and he'd try to ease your troubles. Maybe that was why you often found yourself studying your partner more than your notes. Normally you'd relish under the gaze and attention of your charming, pretty partner, but today wasn't just one of those days.
"It's stupid. Like, really stupid, and unimportant."
"If it's bothering you then it's not stupid. C'mon, I'll buy you lunch and you can tell me all about your problem."
You huffed as you stood up and pulled your bag over your shoulder. You followed Natsuo to the cafeteria, while he walked off to get and pay for your lunches, you found some empty seats. Your leg bounced as you waited for him to come back. The idea of opening up about something so personal made you anxious.
"It's Soba Saturday."
"Thanks."
Natsuo took a seat across from you and smiled as you took a bite out of the food. Happy that you were happy with your food, Natsou digs into his own.
"So partner' what's up?"
"As I said, it's really, really, stupid."
"You're obviously worked up over it, it can't be that stupid."
You let out a ragged sigh as you took a delicate bite out of your food. Embarrassed, your eyes avoided him once you swallowed and set the fork down. Natsuo had shared so much with you as a friend and confidant, you knew about his family, every nitty-gritty detail, but you opened so little in return.
"My mom texted me asking if I was bringing a date home for Christmas. My parents... They're pretentious and rich, you know? Marrying, and settling down, becoming a house mouse while my husband takes over the family business. That's the future they want for me."
You clenched your fists just getting aggravated thinking about it. The toxicity was hard and you were trying your best to escape it, but you could only flee so much when you were poor without your parents. Natsuo reached across the table and grabbed your hands, pulling them into his cold ones.
"I know if I show up alone my mom's gonna get in my business, then she'll try setting me up with rich men she thinks are suitable. I just- I can't do another family Christmas alone."
"I understand what you mean. I told you how my dad's a bastard, he's tried setting me and my sister up with suitable people before, never works out, just makes us hate him. I don't even wanna go home for Christmas this year, so... I have a proposition."
"I'd love to hear it."
"I'll go with you."
His voice came out quick and fast, almost making him sound nervous, but Natsuo didn't get nervous, it wasn't a Todoroki trait. You look up from your lap to his eyes. A small smile formed on your face as he proposed the statement. You let out a chuckle as a light blush brushed your face.
"You wanna be my date?"
"We don't have to go like that, we can fake date. Think about it, you need a rich, suitable guy to show up with you. You need me. Someone to convince your pretentious parents you're ready to settle down, and, I, can get out of my own family Christmas and obligations to see the bastard man."
"Fake dating... Fake dating and convincing my parents that we're in love. That's a lot to deal with, you're sure your up for it?"
"Yeah, you might say... We already have some chemistry together."
You laughed as that feeling bubbled up in your chest. That feeling you got whenever you were around your partner, your lab partner. It was stupid, so stupid. The idea of fake dating him bubbled you, even if it was fake, the idea that he got to be your boyfriend for an evening or two excited you.
"Okay, you dork, it's settled. You're my fake boyfriend."
Your leg bounced rigorously as the car drove on the road. You watched the road signs, anxiously noting how far away from your home you were each time a new one appeared. You lived a couple of hours out from the city you and Natsuo attended college in. Coming from a rich family, you and Natsuo probably would've attended the same social circles and school had you not grew up so far away.
Your thumb tapped away at your leg as Christmas music blared through the radio. Your whole body screamed anxious and distressed. Now that you've had time to brew and process the deal you and Natsuo made you regretted it. What were you thinking, taking your lab partner, who was also your crush, on an overnight trip as your fake boyfriend? It was just going to cause you trouble.
You had feelings for him and your family was toxic. The idea of letting him in was disturbing. It was your home where you grew up, the place you learned to hate yourself, the place that taught you to be closed off, and mean. He'll meet your mom, your dad, and your godawful siblings. He'll see how horrible your family is, and the idea of letting him see the environment you grew up in was so daunting.
What if he decided you were awful too? What if he changes lab partners?
"We're here."
"Great."
Your voice came out placid and tight. Your nervousness and exhaustion could be heard in your voice. Emotions brought out every time you saw your family, he mistook it as nerves brought on by the fear of fake dating.
"We should probably lie down some rules."
"Yeah, I've never fake dated before. I don’t know what you're uncomfortable with, but no kissing on the lips."
Natsuo pulled his keys out of the engine ignition and pocketed them while he lightly laughed at your proposed rule. Heat rose to your cheeks as his voice met your ears.
"We're supposed to convince them we're in love, but I can't kiss your lips?"
"I know it's silly, but to me it's romantic and I’d like to keep this professional. Besides, you still have my cheek, hand, nose, and forehead."
“I see your points, if it makes you feel more comfortable then lips are off-limits.”
You let out a relieved sigh. You weren't sure you'd handle kissing Natsuo. It was too personal, too romantic. The more you progressed on this endeavor the more you worried. Your parents were gonna know, they were gonna know.
"No kissing your lips, what about hand-holding?"
"We can hold hands, hug, anything a couple would do, just no sex or kissing."
"Two days, as a handholding loving boyfriend. Let's do this."
Natsuo got out of the car and while you zipped up your coat and fixed your scarf he rushed to the other side of the car and opened your door before you got the chance. His cold hand was on your hand pulling you out of the car, he smiled softly at you as he helped you out.
“Thanks, you didn't have to do that.”
“I wanted to, I'm your boyfriend after all.”
You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear as a light blush spread across your skin. Never had you been more thankful for the cold air for you had been able to play your pink cheeks off as an effect of the cold weather and not his words.
“You go in, I’ll get our bag.”
“You sure?”
You nibbled on your lip as Natsuo walked away from you. He turned to you with an ever-growing smile present as he winked.
“Yeah, I'm a good boyfriend aren't I?”
“The sweetest ever. See you inside.”
You made your way to the door and gave the heavy wooden door a hard knock. It wasn't long until one of the servants opened the door. The head butler, Godwin, opened the door and threw you a gracious smile before pulling you into a hug.
“Welcome back, [Y/N].”
In your time living here as a child, Godwin spent a lot of time with you. It was his job to watch over you and your siblings along with the other staff members when your parents were gone, which was often. He was the one who taught you to be kinder and nicer, more humble than your other siblings. He was the one who encouraged you to go to college despite your parents raising you to live in a world with their racist, sexist ideals.
“It’s good to see you, Godwin.”
Your mother came down the stairs with her overly expensive Christmas dress flowing with her. She looked like the average rich person trying to show off her money. Pearls, diamonds, and obvious plastic surgery. Your father followed behind her, adorning an expensive tailored suit and a matching tie, no doubt your mother's idea to make it seem like they had a perfect marriage to their guests when it, in fact, was not.
“Oh, [F/N], you're here!”
She walked up to you and awkwardly wrapped her arms around your body. It was weird and awkward. Your mother didn't like giving affection out to her children, or really anyone. Now that you were older, you didn't crave the attention from her. Your father didn't even attempt to greet you.
“I thought you said you were bringing a guest, Oh I knew you were lying. Lucky for you I thought ahead and arranged for one of your father's friends to come over as your date for the evening.”
“Mother, anyone friends with father is going to be way too old to be a date for me, besides that fact, I did bring a date.”
“Oh, don’t be embarrassed to ask your mother for help, I did give birth to you after all.”
She sneered her words at you. This was a classical move of your mothers because she gave birth to you then that must mean she knows you better than anyone else, she also used it in the stance that you owed it to her to do what she wanted.
“You’ll love him. He's the owner of a multimillion-dollar company, he's rich, and his wife just died! You’ve been single for so long, you need a man to take care of you”-
Your mother is cut off by the sound of Natsuo walking in with your bag and slamming the door shut, trying to keep the cold out. Considering it was an overnight trip, you thought sharing a bag might make you look more intimate and close.
“Sorry I took so long babe, I didn't zip the bag all the way closed and it opened on the ride here, I had to put everything back in it.”
“Mother, father, this is my boyfriend.”
Natsuo dropped your bag on the floor and shook your parent's hands starting with your father, and then your mother next, respectfully the way you shook hands with the rich. You supposed growing up as a Todoroki he had to learn these tricks and rules the same way you did.
“Natsuo Todoroki, nice to meet you, sir, ma’am.”
“Oh wow, Todoroki? Like the hero family Todoroki?”
“Yes, ma’am... Endeavor is my father.”
You could tell by Natsuo's stance that he was uncomfortable with the way your mother was asking about his social status and checking him out with a tight fake smile on her face.
“Yes, I remember now, I saw your family on the news. How did you snag this one [Y/N]? A Todoroki, I'm impressed, then again... He is the brother who chose not to follow the life of a hero.”
You both ignored your mother's catty comment as Natsuo grabbed your hand and pulled you against his side. He kissed your cheek, eliciting a light blush for the second time that day, however, your mother's focus was on your 'boyfriend', and his focus was on your mother.
“Feels more like I'm the one who snagged her.”
“Well, you must tell us how you met. Goodwin! Take their bag up to [Y/N]'s room!”
You rolled your eyes as she yells at the butler. You'd think after years of working for her she would've remembered his name, but she didn't.
“Godwin, we can take our bag up, we need to change into our dress clothes anyway. Mother, you really should remember the names of your staff.”
“They're just the help, details like their names don't matter. Ever since you went off to that school it's put silly ideas in your head. Natsuo don't be afraid to remind her who's boss, she might try to force those ridiculous relationship norms on you.”
The comment comes from your father who had been mostly silent throughout the whole conversation. The comment comes from your father and it didn't sit well with Natsuo. As your father laughs at what he said, Natsuo picks your bag up and chuckles at him.
“Oh, [Y/N] and I both know who the boss of this relationship is. [Y/N] attends more classes than me, so I always make sure the apartment is clean, and food is ready on the table for her. It's only fair, I wouldn't want her to think these ridiculous relationship norms where the woman cooks and cleans and the man provides is right.”
Before your father gets another word in edgewise, Natsuo pulls you along with him to the staircase, letting you guide him to your bedroom with appeased smiles on your faces. You pushed the door open and let Natsuo in before closing it and locking it. You flopped over on the bed, and he followed suit before taking a look at your room. It was the same as always, the way you left it after high school, never changing except for when little things got moved around for dusting and vacuuming by Godwin.
“So... What'd you think of my parents?”
“They’re... interesting?”
There were a wide variety of choice words Natsuo wanted to use. He did not like your parents, and it bothered him knowing that you grew up being raised with such ideals. Natsuo might have had a bastard for a father, his father might have hurt his mom, and his family in more ways than one, but his father never once told Fuyumi that she couldn't pursue her dreams. He never once told Fuyumi that she had to follow old gender norms, never once was Fuyumi taught to layover for a man.
"It's okay, you can say it. They're good awful."
"I didn't want to upset you or offend, but my father literally drove my mom insane, he gave her a mental illness and he's nice compared to them."
"Just wait until you meet my siblings."
You let out a laugh as your fingers played with the blanket on the bed. Your hands were so close. It was sweet to him, the sound of your voice. He'd never admit out loud, but he was so in love with you. Ever since he first laid eyes on you in chemistry class. Ever since you sat down next to him and introduced yourself, ever since you accidentally blew up your first experiment. Ever since you kept apologising for catching him on fire, you hadn't a clue who he was, or who his father was. You were normal with him. Every little thing you did lead up to his feelings for you. Every little thing you did added to the strong feelings had had, like a brick house.
To the naked eye, Natsuo was a desirable man. He was rich, filthy rich, and he had that Todoroki charm. Everyone wanted him for his status or his looks. They didn't know him, the real him, him with an abusive father and fucked up family. For all those reasons, Natsuo always thought that you wouldn't want to be with a boy like him. Someone who came from such a broken background, someone so weak, unable to stand up to his father. Guys like him never got the girl, at least not the girl that he wanted but Natsuo also never imagined that you came from a background similar to his. It was so ethereal and special to be here with you, to be the one you were opening up to, even if it was a fake relationship, Natsuo was trying desperately to shoot his shot.
"You're so strong, you know that? Your parents raised you with these unrealistic standards on how you should act, but you're in college, you're pursuing your dreams. You're amazing."
Natsuo's hand reached out and grabbed yours, his cold one in yours soliciting goosebumps and a little shiver. You quickly tried to pull your and out of his and stood up to make it look like you weren't trying to avoid skin contact with him.
"Thanks, Natsuo... You're amazing too, I mean hello, they way you subtly told my father to shove his marriage ideals? It was hilarious, he was not expecting that."
You looked away from Natsou to hide the blush in your cheeks, you were thankful for the way he stood up to your father for you. You could never have done that in a million years.
"Anyway, we should probably get dressed, and go down before my mother thinks we've started having sex. You can get dressed in here and I'll go to the bathroom, just knock when it's safe for me to come out."
You grabbed your dress out of the bag and scurried into the bathroom. You started with makeup, then you reapplied your deodorant. You were so nervous that your family would see right through your lie. After taking a few deep breaths you heard Natsuo's knock so you quickly unzipped your silk, baby blue dress and pulled it up to your body. Nervously, you popped your head out the door and bit your lip.
"Can you... Can you zip me up?"
"Sure!"
You let the door open more and pulled the front of your dress tight against your body, worried and nervous to be partially naked in front of him. Natsuo sauntered into the bathroom and zipped the back of your dress up. His cold hands glide up your back and then fell down on your hips. It made you shiver again before throwing him a grateful smile.
"Thanks."
"No problem, you look beautiful."
You looked in the mirror at the two of you together. This time as the blush rose to your cheeks you didn't have the cold to blame or the ability to turn around and hide your face.
"Ready to meet the rest of the snake nest?"
"I survived your parents, I think I can handle your siblings."
Arm in arm looped together you made your way downstairs and into the entertainment room with Natsuo. Your siblings were sitting on the couch, but once you walked in their eyes struck you. They heard you brought a date and they wanted to check him out. Their eyes glazed over him some of them in interest, some in disinterest. All judging.
"I heard you brought a boy, didn't believe it."
The comment comes from your older sister. Her voice was full of disdain and disinterest, undoubtedly ready to leave.
"Yeah, mother said you brought a boy, didn't think he'd be so hot."
Natsou coughs uncomfortably as you showed a tight, fake smile to your sister. You couldn't lie, it hurt that your younger sister would so blatantly flirt with your boyfriend upon meeting him, whether he be fake or not.
"Don't be such a slut, [Sisters Name]. That's your sister's boyfriend."
Your older brother scolded his youngest sister for her lustful behavior and she rolls her eyes before she crosses her arms in a pout. Your brother was the nicest out of all your siblings. He was nice to you and your siblings in his own way, protective of his younger siblings, constantly scolding and trying to keep you all in place. That didn't mean he couldn't be a snake, he could just tolerate you and your siblings more.
"Besides, he's not all that hot."
"Oh he totally is, it's seriously a wonder how [Y/N] got him."
You brought Natsuo over to the couch and sat down next to him. You even made sure to sit close to him, close enough so you could lean into each other like a cute couple.
"I think I prefer your parents."
His words whispered in your ear earning a light chuckle from you. Your sister, the younger one, evidently didn't like how close you both were. With a harsh glare, she rolled her eyes again.
"How did you even meet? Seriously, I wanna know why he would downgrade to someone like you."
Natsuo scratched the back of his head awkwardly and nervously He didn't understand why your siblings were so mean to you. His father was a bastard, that closed you off, that he could get. Despite that, he and his siblings never put each other down like they were doing.
"More like she downgraded to me. We met in school, lab partners. She had all the boys chasing for her in school, but somehow she chose me."
Your sister scoffed and this time you rolled your eyes. She always gave you such shit over the littlest things. You didn't have the energy for this, at least not sober. You whispered into Natsuo's ear softly.
"I need a drink, you want one? We'll need it to get through the evening."
"If your alcohol mixing skills are anything like your chemistry mixing skills, then no."
"Meanie, I'm a great chemist, I practically carry our grade."
Natsuo chuckled against your cheek, before pulling back and kissing it. Again, a blush adorned your cheek with no way to hide it. It was brief and quick, but his cold lips ghosted against your cheek. All you could do was abruptly stand up with a smile on your face.
"I'm gonna go find an alcoholic beverage. I'll be right back, play nice with him."
Natsuo watched helplessly as you walked off into the distance. He sat there quietly, patiently waiting for you to come back. Natsuo was such a cool, calm collected guy, but alone with your siblings, he felt nervous. Seeing the way they acted with you gave him a bad impression of them, but he has to play nice because he was your boyfriend.
"You know, an alcoholic drink does sound great."
Your older sister stood up from the couch and walked off in the same direction as you did, the kitchen presumably, to make herself a drink as well. Soon, your brother left the room as well, your little sister bit her lip as she watched your brother walk off in the direction of the bathroom. She was quick to stand and in the place you once held occupied.
"My sister said play nice, but I'd rather play rough."
She slid her hand over his thigh and inched it closer to his crotch while she smiled up at him, nibbling on her lip.
"What are you doing? I'm here with your sister, I'm her boyfriend."
"Ugh, what do you even see in her? She's not even pretty."
Before Natsou could reply, before he could defend you, your sister climbed across his lip and planted her lips against his. He wasn't kissing her back, but with her on top of him, her pressing her face against his, and her fingers deeply gripping his clothes it was difficult to get her off of him. He wasn't kissing back, he was trying to push her off but as you walked up with two margaritas in hand all you saw was your fake boyfriend kissing your sister.
It hurt. It shouldn't have, but it hurt. He wasn't yours, not really. He was just your lap partner, your friend. He wasn't your boyfriend, you were just fake dating. He wasn't yours. He wasn't yours, but it hurt to see your sister all over him. He wasn't yours, but for the night he was supposed to be. He wasn't yours but for the sake of your lie you did what any girl would do after finding her boyfriend cheating on her: You dumped your margarita down the skank.
"[Brothers Name] is right, you are a slut! And you- you-"
As your sister pulled herself off of Natsuo she looked up at you shocked with alcohol dripping down her body, you ignored her and turned your attention to Natsou. Your eyes were blurry but you had to will yourself not to cry.
"I don't need you here. You can just leave."
You didn't wait for Natsou to get up and leaves nor did you want for him to talk and explain anything to you. You simply took off in the direction of your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. Natsuo quickly jumped up on his feet and took off in the direction of your bedroom. He didn't knock, he didn't wait for permission, he just busted in and ran over to you.
"If you want to make out with my sister, that's fine. I get it, she's pretty, she's hot, she's better than me. She's everything you'd want, but you were supposed to be here with me! You were supposed to be here as my boyfriend! My parents were supposed to think we're in love. You were supposed to be mine, I don't care if it's fake, you cheated with my sister!"
The tears were leaking down your cheeks as you yelled at him. No words could pass Natsuo's lips, no matter how hard he tried. They couldn't. Seeing your tears, a product of him hurt. It hurt. He hurt you. He was trying his best to shoot his shot, he was trying to subtly woo you.
"Your sister came on to me, I tried pushing her away. She's really is a snake, you said it yourself!"
You still sniffled as you nodded at him. He was right, you had said that. He was right, she is a snake and this is exactly what she would do just to screw with your life.
"I'm sorry, your right. I shouldn't have acted like that, you're not actually mine. Natsuo, I do need you, I need you here."
"What if I wanted you to really be mine?"
You sniffling stopped as Natsuo took closer steps to you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled your lips against his. This was different from earlier. The kiss wasn't quick, it was long. It was long and passionate, yet cold. Despite your shivers, you found yourself leaning into him, into the kiss.
"You- You can't do that, it's against the rules."
"Screw the rules. I just- I wish you needed me every night of the year, not just Christmas."
Natsuo ran his hands through his hair nervously. He thought speaking against your father and defending you against your sister was enough to get his point across. This idea of verbally speaking it, it scared him. This was uncharted territory for him.
"I want you [Y/N]. I want you every day of the year. I want to kiss you on the lips, I want to hold hands, I want dates and hugs. I want more than chemistry class and Christmas gatherings."
"Then you can have me! Have me every day of the year. Be mine, every day of the year. Take me on a date, hold my hand, kiss my lips!"
Natsuo pulled you against him and your face collided with his chest. You buried your face in his chest as your arms wrapped around his body and a smile formed.
"Let's not fake date, be my actual girlfriend."
You leaned up and left a quick chaste kiss on Natsuo's lips with a smile.
"I don't want anyone else to be my actual boyfriend, I suppose you might say we chemistry."
#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha#x reader#anime x reader#boku no hero academia x reader#boku no hero#x reader insert#natsuo x reader#bnha natsuo x reader#mha natsuo x reader#mha todoroki x reader#bnha todoroki x reader#todoroki x reader#natsuo todoroki x reader#mha natsuo todoroki x reader#bnha natsuo todoroki x reader#todoroki natsuo x reader#bnha todoroki natsuo x reader#mha todoroki natsuo x reader#natsou x reader#bnha natsou x reader#mha natsou x reader#natsou todoroki x reader#bnha natsou todoroki x reader#mha natsou todoroki x reader#natsou todoroki
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TIM DRAKE SMUT ALPHABET
I’m bored so I complied all the Tim smut alphabet requests that I got several weeks back into one post so it’s easier to read lol. None of these are new, they’ve all been posted before, just making it for you new comers!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Tim likes to have a shower with you after. There’s nothing more sensual to him than washing each other’s bodies. The mix of sweat and cum that you guys made together, are washed away together. He just wants to take care of you at all times.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Your favourite body part of his is his back. He’s got the nicest, muscular back and it’s the sole reason that you always offer to give him massages (which nearly always end up with sex)
His favorite of yours is lips/mouth. He loves kissing you, the sounds that you make, and mostly when their wrapped around his dick.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
As I said in the body part ^ Tim loves your mouth and he sure as fuck loves to cum in it. There’s nothing sexier to him than watching you swallow his load. It’s his favourite place to cum.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Tim once jacked off while he was out on patrol. You begged him all evening to stay home and he promised he wouldn’t be long. That was a lie, he had been out all night and you needed him. So, you sent him a rather extensive video of you pleasuring yourself and he couldn’t take the wait to get back across the city to see you.
E = Experience
Tim knows what he’s doing, but he hasn’t been with that many people. He’s mostly learned and adapted to what you like rather than base what he knows off of his past. It’s more important to specialize in exactly what feels good for you rather than what he assumes you like.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Tim’s favourite is the face off (idk what it’s actually called sorry) When he’s sitting up and you’re riding his cock. He loves this because he get’s to have that closeness to you and it’s more sensual. It’s a versatile position - the bed, his office chair, the batcave chair, the training mat - His office chair.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.
Depends on the location. In his room? Tim will crack a joke here and there just to keep you entertained. In his office though, boy oh boy is he completely different. Tim’s already got his big boss attitude from his long day’s work and he definitely keeps it up with you. Bossy Tim is a whole new level of hot.
H = Harmony (do they like music in the background?)
If he’s in his room, he’ll put some music on in the background. Nothing with lyrics, just instrumentals. Never too loud either, he wants to hear you more than he wants to hear the music. However, if any of his brother’s are staying in the same house as him, he always turns the music up loud enough to drown out your sounds. No way is he letting his brother’s know just how hot you sound when he’s fucking you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Tim’s pretty romantic. He doesn’t want to fuck you like you’re some kind of whore (but enjoys it on the occasion). He’d rather praise you and enjoy how close the two of you are.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Since dating you, Tim doesn’t jack off very often. He only ever does if you’re apart and you ask him for a video of him. Just because Tim doesn’t feel the need to masturbate while he’s away doesn’t mean the same for you. You’re begging him through text and telling him how much you miss his cock in you. Tim makes sure he’s extra vocal as he’s thinking about you sucking him off rather than only having his hand.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Tim likes some light bondage. He loves when your hands are tied up and you can’t aid to your own pleasure (even though he does a good enough job on his own). Nothing too crazy. He hates when you do it to him though, Tim needs to have his hands on you at all times.
Orgasm control. He doesn’t pull this very often but he’ll make you wait to cum. If you cum without him saying, he’ll go through it again and again until you get it right.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Like I said in my previous post, he’ll fuck you in his office. It might not be the most comfortable place, but there’s no better feeling that having you bent over his desk while he’s pounding into you. He sound proofed his office just so you didn’t have to hold back your moans.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Tim see’s you in lingerie and he’s done for. He think’s it’s unbelievably sexy and he won’t waste a second to fuck you without taking it off. The worst is when you send him a picture of you in it while he’s at work. Half the time he leaves the building just to show you how hard you make him.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Tim hates the idea of cuckholding. Literally the idea of another man fucking you while he just watches is his worst nightmare. He’s the only one allowed to bring you pleasure. Tim wouldn’t be opposed to a threesome though
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He prefers to receive. Tim loves getting head from you. However, he also loves when you sit on his face too and boy is he good at it. Tim’s learned just the right combo of licking and sucking. You put a kink in his neck one time from it and Bruce questioned what had happened. Thank god he was a great liar.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Tim’s more slow and hard. He doesn’t want to rush things with you but he wants to slam his hips so hard that you’re seeing spots. He’s more about getting as deep as he can rather than as fast as he can.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He’s not a huge fan. Tim likes to prolong fucking you when he can, so when you guys are rushed, he knows that he’s not doing his best performance. He’ll do them when need be but it’s not his ideal time.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Look all I’m saying is that Tim would, has, and will fuck you in his WE office. It’s his company and he can do as he pleases in his building.
Tim has his classic positions that he preferences but he is willing to try new things if you bring it up.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Tim can go a lot of rounds, like a lot. However, he doesn’t last particularly long. He loves being inside you, and the pleasure of it all is sometimes just too much for him to handle. He never quits until you’re tired though - he could go all night if you wished.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Tim doesn’t own toys for himself but he bought some for you. He encourages you to use them when he’s away on missions and he nearly cums in his pants when you send a lengthy video of you using them. He uses them in bed occasionally too if he’s on the mood to over stimulate.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He teases you just enough to get frustrated. Tim knows your limits better than anyone else, he knows when you’re on the edge of cumming and he knows exactly when to stop. He’ll deny your orgasm but if he does it more than once then he’ll make it up to you for the rest of the night.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s not that loud. Tim will express how he’s feeling rather than making noises. He’s king of dirty talk which came out of nowhere with how awkward he can be. Tim constantly praises you for what you do and you know if you get a long moan out of him then you’re doing one hell of a good job.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
As CEO of WE, he had important business dinners he attended to and most times you went with him. Tim was feeling ridiculously bold one night. You guys saw side by side and not even ten minutes into the night he was slipping his hand between your thighs and teasing you through your underwear. It was the first time that you had worn a short dress to the dinner meeting and you regretted it. Tim never brought you close enough to an orgasm but the endless teasing all night had led to the most intense sex you ever had with him.
X = X-marks the spot (where’s their favourite place to give/receive hickies)
Tim loves to leave them all over his chest. He knows they’re there, but no one else does. He only wants you and him to see the marks he leaves on you. As much as you like leaving them where everyone can see, he’s got a multi-billion dollar company to run and people already see him as childish they don’t need another excuse. You settle for right where the edge of his suit would be, sometimes they just barely peak out.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Tim can fuck as much as he wants. He’s not constantly horny, but if you’re in the mood then he’s not gonna deny it. Tim’s sex drive isn’t intense, but he can’t go over a week without you either, he’ll go crazy.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Depends. Tim’s used to being awake for a while so if he needs to stay up afterwards he can. However, he loves falling asleep with you in his arms right afterwards if he can Cockwarming maybe.
#tim drake#tim drake imagine#tim drake x reader#tim drake smut#red robin#red robin imagine#smut alphabet#dc smut#dc
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circus mirrors & stereo hearts
sugawara koushi x reader
this one goes out to my new friend, @twat-101 :) it’s a bit long, but I hope you still like it ! sending lotsa love your way <3
synopsis: (y/n) is struggling with her mental health so her best friend suga-san invites her over to study. general chaos and dumbassery ensues.
warnings: some swearing, mentions of mental health struggles, suga’s tone deaf singing.
word count: 4,226
--
Koushi always kept his windows open. Always.
In the winter, this transformed his room into a tiny Antarctica, replete with stray snowflakes, but in the summer, it meant cool tradewinds cutting through the typically stifling heat, creating a little pocket of the ideal climate. You often found yourself there in these warmer months, perched on the corner of his bed, contently listening to him blithely gossip about his teammates or playing a giggly game of Connect Four rife with not so subtle cheating.
Today, a sunny August Saturday, was no different. Koushi sat cross legged on the carpet. Sprawled out across his pale blue comforter, which smelled of fresh linen and that familiar Old Spice he’d been wearing since the eighth grade, you listened to him recite a chapter from your history book, something about post World War II foreign policy. Struggling to remain attentive, however, you found yourself spiraling into those cheerless resignations of hopelessness that had been far too frequent for you lately.
“--which resulted in Europe’s economic recovery chiefly in terms of raw materials, food, and fuel. The Soviet Union soon attempted to replicate a similar plan but ultimately-- hey, (Y/N)?”
You blinked hard and sunk back into reality, turning onto your cheek to look Koushi in his big brown eyes full of rather matronly concern. “Hmm?”
“Do you know what we’re learning about right now?” he asked, sounding both amused and disapproving. A strand of grey fell in front of his face and he quickly blew it away, smiling slightly. “Because it seems like you’ve been zoning out for the last ten or so minutes. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but Mr. Shishido specifically said this chapter was going to be on the test.”
“Uh… something about muzzer Roosia?” you joked with an exaggerated accent.
Koushi rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead. You yelped and glared at him reproachfully. “We were talking about the Marshall Plan. The United States’ recovery aid program for Western Europe after wartime devastation.”
“Right, right, I knew that,” you protested as Koushi tugged on your forearms and you toppled off the bed, nearly landing right on top of him. With a soft laugh, he extracted his limbs from yours and plopped his head into your lap like he used to when you were kids, resting beneath the boughs of that little oak tree in his backyard, listening to a choir of cicadas croon under a late afternoon sun. The ghost of a grin flitted over your face as you looked back on those halcyon days of your childhood. Usually Koushi’s mom would come out onto the porch with a couple of already-melting lemon popsicles in hand, and the two of you would scramble out of each other’s embrace and tear towards her, breathlessly racing for a priceless reward of sweet smiles and sticky hands.
What you wouldn’t give to go back to that time of gleeful oblivion, before your world became characterized by that all too persistent self-consciousness and excruciating anxiety. What you wouldn’t give to once again feel worthy of Koushi’s innocent adoration…
“--(Y/N)!”
For the second time today, you shook yourself awake. Koushi gazed up at you, brows furrowed. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I was asking if you needed to take a little study break. Obviously, you do. I swear, your attention span gets shorter every day.” He pointed somewhere behind you. “Mind grabbing my phone? It’s on the bed.”
You leaned over as far as you could without disturbing Koushi’s position, head still nestled in your lap, and swept your hand over the covers before it bumped into his phone, which you promptly snatched and dropped onto his stomach. He gave a soft “oomph” at the impact before pulling up his Spotify and selecting a playlist, the cover of which was a selfie of the two of you at last year’s spring carnival. A blurred sakura tree provided the perfect backdrop for your smiling faces pressed cheek-to-cheek to fit in the frame. Sugar dusted the corners of Koushi’s mouth, the last trace of the powdered donut you’d shared right before.
“What’s that? I don’t think I’ve listened to that one before.” You reached for the phone, but Koushi held it out just out of reach as music began to play, batting your hand away. “I look awful in that picture; you could’ve chosen something a little more flattering.”
“Oh, shush. You looked pretty that day, wearing that blue sundress with the little flowers on the hem… blue really suits you, you know.” Koushi smiled fondly at his screen, and you blushed despite yourself. “It’s a compilation of all our songs. I listened to this a lot last summer when you were in France with your family for a month. Whenever I missed you. You were off climbing the Eiffel Tower or making croissants and I was lounging around here, bored out of my mind and wishing you were home so we could be bored together.”
“You sappy bastard,” you said, though you really felt quite touched. “I didn’t even realize we had a song.”
“Not just a song,” he corrected. “Songs. Plural. Most of the songs we’ve ever listened to together, I reckon. Anything that reminds me of you, I put on here.”
“Why in the world would you do that?” you asked, aghast at his effort.
Koushi laughed at your surprise. “You’re my best friend, (Y/N). And believe or not, you mean a lot to me. I just like remembering the stuff we’ve done together.”
You nodded slowly, letting your fingers rest on his forehead and gently play with his grey locks. His eyes closed as you settled into a brief, comfortable almost-silence, tainted only by the soft, muffled melody trickling from tiny phone speakers. You cocked your head. “What song is this?”
“You don’t remember?” Koushi asked, sounding almost offended. He turned the volume up a few notches and held the phone closer to your ear.
Let's Marvin Gaye and get it on
You got the healing that I want
Just like they say it in the song
Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on
“I don’t know if--” you cut off as it dawned on you. “Wait… no way. This isn’t…?”
“It is.” Koushi laughed as your face flushed a vivid crimson. “Uchimura’s party.”
Though embarrassed, you grinned, remembering that night. “The song that played at her twelfth birthday while we were in the closet during seven minutes in heaven.”
“We were way too young for that dumb game,” Koushi said with a smile, shaking his head. “God, I was so nervous. That was my first kiss, you know.”
“It was mine too,” you admitted. You remembered sitting on the carpeted floor of Uchimura’s rather cramped closet, knees touching, just barely able to see the outline of Koushi’s face illuminated by the smallest sliver of light shining through a crack in the door. He’d leaned forward, taking your hand in his own small clammy one. “It was really just a peck, though. It might not have counted.”
“It counted,” said Koushi firmly. “Whenever I get asked about my first kiss, I say it was ours. I say it was the best one I’ve ever had, too.”
You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Now, I know that’s a lie. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.”
“Neither did I,” agreed Koushi. He caught your eye, crinkling his nose cutely. “That’s what made it so sweet. It was innocent. I tasted your bubblegum chapstick on my lips afterwards.”
“Bubblegum chapstick, huh?” You rolled your eyes and poked him softly in the ribs. “I couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for like three weeks after that.”
“I remember. You kept running away whenever I tried to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m not sure we would’ve even stayed friends if Ms. Miyato hadn’t partnered us up for the volcano project at the end of that month.” You recalled those afternoons spent in Koushi’s kitchen, newspapers covering every visible surface and a huge, paper-mache volcano resting on the dining table, splattered with orange and yellow paint and smelling strongly of Elmer’s glue and vinegar. Oftentimes, work sessions would dissolve into paint fights, staining your school uniforms with small, colorful hand prints.
“Nah,” said Koushi confidently. “I wouldn’t have let you go that easily.”
“Maybe you should’ve,” you said under your breath.
Koushi stared at you for a second, sighing. Then he reached up to grasp your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and softly stroking his thumb across your palm. “You know, it was Uchimura’s eighteenth last weekend. You didn’t come.”
“Yeah. I had to study.” That was a lie. You just hadn’t thought anyone really wanted you there. Uchimura had been a friend of yours for years, but she had plenty of other friends to celebrate with. Probably didn’t even notice you weren’t there…
“She asked me where you were,” Koushi continued. “I said I didn’t know because you didn’t answer my texts that night.”
“Sorry,” you said quietly, avoiding eye contact. “Studying.”
“On a Friday night?” You didn’t answer, and Koushi squeezed your hand. “I had to choose Daichi for my charades partner… do you have any idea how shit he is at charades? He flopped on the ground and started convulsing, so I guessed ‘epilepsy.’ Guess what the word really was.”
“What?”
“Orgasm. The word was orgasm. You’d think he could just execute a simple pelvic thrust and make a face, but no, he had to go ahead and act like my great uncle Kaito when he had that heart attack at his ninety-fifth birthday last year.”
You cracked a small smile, imagining Daichi violently wiggling on the floor like a fish out of water. “Sounds like I missed out, then.”
“You really did,” said Koushi, eyes twinkling. He suddenly got solemn. “I missed you. Would’ve been a million times more fun with you there.”
“I doubt it.” You fiddled with the edge of your shirt, smile fading. “I can be a real killjoy sometimes.”
“Not to me,” said Koushi. “Whenever you walk into the room, suddenly that’s the only room I wanna be in.”
Your breath caught in your throat and you swallowed thickly. “Koushi… why are you telling me this?”
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said simply. He took your hand again, the one that had been playing with his hair, and held it to his chest. You felt his heart beat erratically beneath your palm. “You’ve been avoiding all our friends in general.”
“That’s not true,” you protested, though your heart sank. He had noticed. You wished you didn’t have to drag him into all your problems. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Busy with what, (Y/N)? Homework? Our physics teacher came and talked to me at my locker after school, asking if you’ve been struggling with any personal issues, because apparently you haven’t been turning in your assignments.” Koushi glanced up at you. “It seems like you’ve just been locked away in your room whenever you’re not in class. Not doing work, not going out. Remember a couple weeks ago, when I asked if you wanted to go see that movie with me at the drive-in? You said you had a family dinner in town, but later I passed by on my bike and your bedroom light was on. And today, it took four separate phone calls before you finally picked up and I managed to invite you over… I’ve been worried.”
“Maybe I’m just changing,” you protested weakly. “That’s a thing that happens. People change.”
“I agree, you have been changing. Just not for the better.” Koushi squeezed your hand again, his skin warm on your own. “I haven’t seen you smile, really smile, for ages. You’re always faking these days. What’s going on?”
“I…” you trailed off, trying to think of some excuse. The last thing you wanted was for Koushi to see what was really going on inside your head.
“The truth, (Y/N).”
You relented, shoulders sagging. “Just been tired, I guess.”
“Tired of what?”
“Tired of…” Your eyes grew moist despite your best efforts and you fought to keep from choking on the sob rising up your throat.
“Tired of…?” he pressed on, eyebrow raised.
Your next words tumbled out in a rush. “Just tired of being me, okay? It’s like… it’s just like, whenever I look in the mirror… I don’t like what I see. I don’t like myself, so I don’t want to be me anymore. I’m so tired of it. And I feel like everyone else is, too. Everyone is tired of my shit, so I thought I’d just do you all a favor and disappear.”
Your words stunned Koushi into silence. He remained resting in your lap for a few long seconds before he felt something hot and wet roll down his cheek. A tear. But not his own.
He looked up just in time for another one of your tears to land on his face, right underneath his eye. Quickly, he sat up and tenderly cupped your face in his hands, gently brushing the tears away with his thumbs. “Oh, (Y/N)... c’mere. That’s such bullshit.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you hiccupped as he pulled you into his lap by your waist-- facing him-- and gingerly tucked your head into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this. It’s gross, I know.”
“It’s not gross,” said Koushi, fiercely hugging you to his chest. “It’s much better than watching you try to pretend like you’re fine. I don’t care if your snot gets on my shirt-- that’s a small price to pay. So long as I can be there for you right now.”
You cried harder, immense guilt racking your body at his inexplicable kindness. “I’ve been treating you terribly these past few months, but you’re still so good to me. Goddamnit, Koushi. I don’t deserve you.”
Koushi pulled you back by the shoulders, narrowed eyes searching your face, though tears continued to stream down your cheeks. “(Y/N). You don’t have to earn my love.”
“I-- love?” you asked, eyes wide. You snatched a tissue from Koushi’s bedside table and blew your nose loudly.
“Yeah,” he said firmly, without missing a beat. “I said it. I love you. And don’t ask if I mean in a friend way or a girlfriend way, because the answer is neither. I love you like you’re the person I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I don’t care if that means as, like, your husband or just as your best friend. Whatever I can get, I’m happy with, because I love you like you’re a part of me. Unconditionally. I thought you knew that.”
“Please, don’t say that,” you sobbed, covering your face with your hands. “I’m not good enough for you. I’m really not.”
Koushi pulled your hands away so he could look you in the eye. “What don't you understand about the term ‘unconditional love’? It’s unconditional. There is literally nothing you nor anyone else can say or do to change that. Unconditional love is not a feeling, it’s a choice, and I’ve made that choice. I’ve had nearly two decades to think about it, so now I’m telling you I will love you no matter what. I always have, alright? This isn’t exactly how I wanted to say it, but it’s true.”
You stared at him, disbelieving. You hadn’t known he’d felt this way. Of course, you two had been partners-in-crime your entire lives, and you couldn’t count the number of times he’d materialized at your side as soon as you were in the slightest bit of trouble. Whenever you were a dollar short at the canteen, he’d stuff a five in your hand and push you towards the front of the line. That time you went camping with his family and you forgot your sleeping bag, he’d given you his and spent the night shivering. He always carried an extra pen for you because yours often inexplicably ran out of ink in the middle of a test. He’d been there for every crush, boyfriend, and breakup, cheering you on and drying your tears when the time came. He’d been there when your pet dog died and you planned a funeral in your backyard, complete with a little cardboard headstone, holding an umbrella above your head when it began to rain but you weren’t done mourning. He’d just always been there when you needed him.
You’d tried to be there for him, too, because, as you had begun to realize, his pain was your pain and vice versa. That time when you were six and he’d lost his favorite stuffed animal (a giraffe) it had felt like you’d lost yours too. That day in junior high when he fell out of the oak tree trying to retrieve a stray frisbee and broke his arm, you swore you felt the same pain in yours. Last year when he got dumped outside the gym on Valentine’s Day and you found him sitting in a corner, trying to hide the fact he’d obviously been crying-- you’d stayed late to crack stupid jokes and eat the chocolate he meant to give to his girlfriend, because he deserved a girl who would eat the damn chocolate. Not stomp on his heart and leave it to bleed. I love you like you’re a part of me. You understood.
“It’s okay to not be okay sometimes, but it’s not okay to bundle it all up and bury it deep inside when you have someone right next to you wanting to help you bear that burden.” Koushi’s voice shook just slightly. “It just… it hurts to see you like this, okay? (Y/N), if you love me back, then let me help you. Let me be there for you. Please.”
You were silent for a moment, staring into his pleading eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes.
Then you took a deep breath and started laughing through the tears. You were sure you looked insane, puffy eyes, red nose, and mascara running down your cheeks, but it didn’t matter. “I do. I love you, too. I love you. I didn’t know I loved you before, but now I do, because if you were torn away from me that heartbreak would probably kill me. No, it would definitely kill me. And it would hurt like a motherfucker while it did.”
Koushi let out the breath he’d been holding then, after a brief pause, began to laugh with you as you laced your arms around the back of your neck. “Oh, yeah? Well, losing you would probably hurt like a father-fucker to me.”
“Is that worse than a motherfucker?” you asked, giggling at the ridiculousness of it all. Here you were, bawling on the floor of your best friend’s room while you confessed your love to one another and cussed each other out at the same time.
“For sure. It’s a million times worse than a motherfucker. It’s like, if something hurting like a motherfucker is the equivalent of getting shot by a Nerf gun, something hurting like a fatherfucker probably feels like getting run over by a tank.” Koushi intertwined his fingers with yours yet again and smiled.
“You’re a dumbass,” you said, but you laughed anyways as Koushi looked proud of himself.
“I know,” he said softly, affectionately. “But I’m your dumbass.”
You sighed and shook your head. “I’d love you to be. But you could still do so much better than me--”
“Will you stop saying that, already?” Koushi took your face in his hand, stroking his thumb right beneath your eye. “You’re the most radiant person I’ve ever met. Notice how I didn’t say ‘beautiful’ because the word beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it. Although you are that, too.”
“Oh, goodness. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again-- you’re so sappy.”
Koushi rolled his eyes with a smile. “Yeah, I am. You like it though.”
“You caught me,” you said as he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You leaned into it, savoring the warmth of his lips on your skin. “I do.”
“But really, (Y/N),” he said seriously. “It astounds me that you don’t realize that.”
“Don’t realize what?”
“That you’re cool! You’re so cool and fun and awesome. And a zillion other adjectives I could sit here and list out for hours. You’re the only person who can make me laugh when I cry, and you make the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted, and you’re a literal god at Mario Kart, and you’ve got the prettiest eyes I’ve ever had the privilege to look into.” You flushed as Koushi thought for a moment, chewing on his lip before his eyes widened. “It’s kinda like a circus mirror, I think.”
“What?” You furrowed your brow.
“The way you see yourself is like someone looking into one of those circus mirrors. It makes you look too tall, or really squished, or just bent out of shape in general. And if that was the only mirror you’d ever looked into, you’d probably think that ugly, distorted reflection is how you actually look in real life. You can’t see yourself for how amazing you really are-- but everyone else can.”
“Well, aren’t you just full of relevant analogies today?” you teased. A circus mirror. Now that was something new. You had to give Koushi credit for the comparison-- it actually did kind of make sense.
“What can I say?” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’m a poet.”
“So I guess that would make you my real mirror then?” you offered shyly. Koushi looked confused for a second. “If the way I see myself is supposedly ‘distorted,’ then you can reflect to me how I supposedly really am.”
“Oh, yes!” he said happily. “I’m the mirror. I like that. Quit talking like you don’t believe me, though. You’re incredible. A little thick-skulled sometimes, yes, but incredible nonetheless.”
“It’s going to be hard for me,” you said quietly, gently running a hand through his hair. “Really hard. I haven’t liked myself for a long time.”
“I know. I know. But someday, you’ll be able to understand what a beautiful human being you are. I’m sure of it. I need you to promise you won’t give up until that happens.”
He held out his pinky for a pinky swear, something you two did frequently as children. You smiled and laced your pinky with his. “Alright. I promise.”
“Good.” Koushi stood up, brushed the wrinkles from his pants, and offered you his hand. You took it and he pulled you up. “Listen. Do you remember this song?”
His little playlist had been playing this entire time. You hadn’t noticed. You strained to catch the lyrics. “Turn it up a little, I can’t quite hear.”
...a stereo
It beats for you, so listen close
Hear my thoughts in every note
“Koushi.” A slow smile spread across your face. “Tell me this isn’t Stereo Hearts.”
“Oh, this is Stereo Hearts alright!” he responded gleefully. He took your hand and spun you around like a ballroom dancer, catching you before you tripped over his bedside table. “You remember when we--”
“When we performed it at the junior high talent show and got booed off the stage?” You giggled, remembering that awful night that was somehow hilarious in retrospect. “I still have nightmares about that.”
Koushi continued to swing you around in some sort of clumsy dance, pulling you this way and that while you laughed wildly. “It’s ‘cause you were such a shit singer.”
You gasped in mock offense. “No way! You’re a much worse singer than I am. At least I can carry a tune.”
Koushi just rolled his eyes and grabbed a hairbrush from his shelf, using it like a microphone. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and began to serenade you in his terrible, tone-deaf manner.
Make me your radio
Turn me up when you feel low
This melody was meant for you
Just sing along to my stereo
“God, you really do suck at this,” you said, but he just smiled and kept singing. You had to admit, it was sweet. As silly as the memory associated with the song was, it remained a nostalgic favorite even now. You had to join in a few times, just for memory’s sake.
I only pray you never leave me behind
Because good music can be so hard to find
Koushi sat down next to you and wound one arm around your waist, leaning close.
I take your hand and pull it closer to mine
Thought love was dead, but now you're changing my mind
You turned and leaned in too, nearly touching noses.
“Hey,” he said in an almost whisper. “(Y/N) (L/N), I love you.”
“Hey,” you whispered back, gaze flitting down to his lips and back up again. “I love you, too, you sappy bastard.”
...so sing along to my stereo
“I know.” He closed the remaining inch of distance. Your hand tangled itself in his hair while his tugged your body a little closer.
The kiss was almost as good as the one in Uchimura’s closet all those years ago. Almost.
#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu x reader#anime#sugawara#sugawara koushi#sugawara x reader#sugawara koushi x reader
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NSFW A-Z Analysis: Mark Lee
I’m still writing the prompts, but I felt like writing something a little different for once. Please let me know if you like these, for if you do, there will be more in the future. This was fun to write.
A ~ Aftercare
When you both come down from your highs, Mark is pretty tired. He’ll grab a warm towel and clean you up, and he’d get you a glass of water. Poor baby is exhausted after sex, though, so he really just wants to lie in bed and cuddle with you.
B ~ Body Part
On himself, he likes his cheekbones and jaw, and how they sort of sculpt his face. Plus, he knows that you appreciate them, as well. On you, he likes your thighs. He enjoys grasping onto them and the way the muscles in them flex whenever you walk. When he’s eating you out, he grasps onto them, and he’ll leave kisses and hickies on your inner thighs to tease you.
C ~ Cum
He appreciates the intimacy of cumming inside of you, and seeing his seed drip out of you drives him insane. However, he loves cumming in your mouth. Seeing you swallow his seed after you pleasure him with your lips and tongue is just so hot to him. On other occasions, he honestly loves cumming on your thighs, seeing him painted over your skin.
D ~ Dirty Secret
A dirty secret of Mark’s is that he secretly wants you to peg him. He’s afraid to try it, but he wanted to see how it would feel to have something like that inside of him, turning into a moaning mess. He’s watched porn of people being pegged, and it makes him really want to try it. Plus, he wants to see you dominant as you control the way he’s feeling, He wants you to decide the pace, at which that you thrust into him.
E ~ Experience
He’s inexperienced. He joined SM really young and he sort of gives off an awkward, shy, innocent, inexperienced vibe. He’d have a decent-enough idea of what to do.
F ~ Favorite Position
He loves being able to see you, so missionary is probably his favorite. He likes being able to go as fast or as slowly as he wants. He gets to see your face as you’re overcome with pleasure. He also likes it when you ride him, seeing your entire body on display. Plus, Mark has to admit that when you control the pace, he really enjoys it.
G ~ Goofy
Mark’s fairly shy and awkward, so he’d probably laugh or crack a joke or say something hilariously stupid in the middle of sex. When it’s just vanilla sex, the mood is really light. However, if something is on his mind, or if he’s angry and going rough, then he turns into a completely different person.
H ~ Hair
I can see Mark being fairly trimmed and neat. He isn’t hairless, not completely shaved, but he’s definitely groomed and he keeps himself tidy and at least trimmed. On you, he prefers it if you’re the same, since it makes eating you out easier. He really doesn’t mind, though ~ whatever makes you comfortable
I ~ Intimacy
Mark needs intimacy in order to have sex. He sees it as a precious thing that requires an emotional connection. He wouldn’t have sex with you if he wasn’t absolutely positive of how he felt about you. Either way, every action he makes is sincere and intimate during sex.
J ~ Jack Off
He does it less often than others, but more often than he’s willing to admit to. If you’re not there to satisfy him, his right hand will do the work. Mostly does it in the shower, so the falling water drowns out the sounds he makes. He’s not the best at holding sounds of pleasure back when he’s feeling good
K ~ Kinks
I see him as kind of vanilla, if I’m being honest? Like, he’s not a hard dom, nor does he enjoy being dommed harshly, either. He’s a total switch, though. Here are some kinks:
Hair-pulling (receiving)
Dominant (giving + receiving)
Submissive (giving + receiving
Oral Fixation (giving + receiving)
Overstimulation (giving + receiving_
L ~ Location
The bed is his favorite place to do it. It’s the most comfortable for both of you, and it also has the most amount of space. Plus, the entire aura and scene of the bedroom is comforting and also intimate within itself, which he adores. He may slowly branch out to the couch if he’s desperate enough to not move into the bedroom. Also, you didn’t hear it from me, but he enjoys the shower, as well...
M ~ Motivation
Your voice can turn him on, oddly enough. Hearing you whisper less-than-innocent things in his ear, in a low, hushed voice, literally sends blood rushing south. The way you move also turns him on. Like, the way your hips might move, especially in a certain outfit, turn him to putty.
N ~ No
Mark would refuse to do anything that could possibly hurt you. The farthest he’d go is spanking, and that’s only if you wanted him to. Even if it’s during sex, the idea of inflicting harm upon you is a huge no.
O ~ Oral
He would never turn down a blowjob. He finds it so hot to look down and see your lips around his hard length, and your mouth literally sends him to pure ecstasy. His hands tangle in your hair and his head is thrown back as swears and moans spill from his lips.
This boy could literally eat you out for hours. He loves how you fall apart just from his mouth and fingers. It drives him crazy when you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug lightly. He quickly learns what makes you feel good, and he uses this to bring you to orgasm after orgasm.
P ~ Pace
When you two are being more sweet and intimate, he enjoys going slow, being able to truly feel everything and every part of you. Sometimes, however, he can’t help himself and he finds himself getting lost in the moment and the pleasure, so he speeds up. He’s a dancer, so he knows how to use those hips and make you beg for him.
Q ~ Quickies
He definitely doesn’t prefer them. He prefers longer, more drawn-out sessions. While quickies can be hot, seeing how fast each other can cum in less-than-ideal circumstances, he doesn’t enjoy them. However, if both of you were really horny, I could see him really enjoying it while it’s happening, though.
R ~ Risk
He’s not one to take risks. The farthest he’s willing to go in terms of being caught is the couch in the dorms. Other than that, anything that could potentially hurt his career is a no-no ~ another reason he doesn’t enjoy quickies.
S ~ Stamina
He gets pretty wiped out after he cums. However, he’s able to bring you to your highs from his mouth and his fingers pretty easily. He can do one round of sex but a few rounds of foreplay, if that was what you wanted.
T ~ Toy
Unless you were really into them, he’s not into toys. In his eyes, why would you need a dildo, for example, when you have his cock to turn everything in your consciousness to pure ecstasy?
U ~ Unfair
I don’t see him as being very unfair in the bedroom. He’d tease you until you’re overstimulated, before coaxing you to multiple climaxes. Other than that, he’s fair in the bedroom. He kind of likes it when you make him beg for you, but shh, you didn’t hear that from me
V ~ Volume
He has trouble holding back, at times, when he’s feeling good. He has really pretty moans. Mark’s moans are fairly breathy and light, and he lets out multiple curses under his breath, especially at his climax.
W ~ Wild Card
You’re straddling him, his length sliding in and out of your dripping core as you ride him. You’re leaning forward, your lips almost touching his, but you choose to tease him, not giving him what he wanted. You pinned his wrists down above his head, ensuring that he couldn’t grab onto your hips to control the pace or help you. Mark’s eyes were screwed shut, his breathless moans becoming more whiny and desperate as you continued to ride him. You gyrated your hips in a circle on his. He whimpered out your name, completely at your expense as you sped up your movements.
X ~ X-ray
He’s about average, maybe a little less. He grows a bit in size when he’s hard. It’s pretty to look at, and he can literally make you fall apart from it. Mark knows how to use it, too.
Y ~ Yearning
He’s young, and despite seeming innocent, we all know that he has a fairly high sex-drive. However, he’s busy, so you two don’t get down to having sex for up to a week or so at times. On breaks and such, though...that’s a completely different story. A few times a week at least is when you’d have sex.
Z ~ Zzz
As mentioned, he gets pretty wiped out after he cums. However, he makes sure that you’re cleaned up and okay before he falls asleep.
#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct a-z#mark smut#mark lee smut#nct 127 smut#superm smut#nct imagines#nct#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct 127 imagines#superm#nct mark#mark lee#mark#if this flops im gonna cry#we will winwin
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Breaking the Shell (Lucifer Morningstar)
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
Words: 1.6k
Warning(s): ANGST, blood/wound mention
A/N: FINALLy I had enough inspiration to get this one done. I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you guys enjoyed reading. Also I love using gifs lol
Request: Hey if you take requests may I ask for a Lucifer x reader where she is so hardened and cold towards everyone so he acts the same way to her until she gets hurt on a case and he panics (you can end it however)
----
A hard shell.
That is what you formed around your heart for protection. Too many people in your life had betrayed you, or hurt you in some form. So when you made the decision to move to L.A., you didn't want to feel that same mental and emotional hurt again.
You worked as a detective at the LAPD, often working alongside with Detective Chloe Decker and her civilian consultant Lucifer Morningstar.
You had no qualms with Chloe. She was good at her job, thought outside the box, stood her ground with what really happened with Malcolm, and she had a good set of morals on her. You respected her and held her in high regards.
Her partner Lucifer on the other hand was a different story. He was a goofy, sarcastic, pain in the ass unprofessional, mess of a person. Although past all of those traits, you can tell he wants to do good, whether he wants to admit it or not. He was like that with everyone else. After a while of starting working here, you noticed he seemed to be matching your "cold" exterior you give to everyone else.
Good, You like to say to yourself whenever it crossed your mind. Less chances for you to get hurt in any situation. Although, you wouldn't admit it but you did have a slight soft spot for him (and Ella, but she is a different case). You admired the good he did, admired is acts of self-sacrifice, and sometimes his occasional quips at Dan made you chuckle. He had a mask on, like you did, but his was much different. Lucifer wore a mask of a suave and care-free, when in reality he held something deep and dark in his heart...
---
It was another day, another case. You were teamed up with Chloe and Lucifer with your partner Dan. The four of you were in some huge, fancy house, looking for the wife and butler of a murdered millionaire. Lucifer pieced together that the wife and butler were the true killers, and they tried framing the gardeners.
The place was surrounded by cops, but the four of you went in alone. Chloe and Dan took one side of the house while you and Lucifer took the other. It wasn't ideal but if he kept his mouth shut-
"So do you always have a stick up your bum?" He quipped your way.
"Are you always this insufferable?" You snapped back, keeping your attention focused on looking for the suspects.
"I find it funny how you keep such a cold exterior to anyone who tries to talk to you."
"I find it funny how you are trying to play therapist right now while we are searching for two murders, Lucifer." You could tell he was trying to mimic your snappy mechanism to keep people away while simultaneously trying to break your wall.
"I just want to know, Darling. You seem lonely."
"Just because I keep to myself and I like being alone doesn't mean I am lonely." You were really starting to get irritated. Although you did slightly lie there... it does get lonely at times.
"Oh did I catch a lie there, (Y/N)? I am the the devil after all, I can detect lies."
"Uh huh and I am the Easter Bunny." You snort.
"If you just step out of that shell of yours you wouldn't be lonely."
"Maybe I have reasons to be alone." You sighed, realizing that opens the door for more conversation about you.
"What reasons could that be?" You didn't respond to his question. "Oh don't shut me out now, we were getting somewhere."
"We weren't. Now drop it." You moved into the master bedroom, which was huge. You stood in the middle of the room and did a general sweep at first. You could feel Lucifer glaring at you, probably attempting to burn holes in the back of your head.
"Why do you keep to yourself, (Y/N)?" He asked you again. You ignored him and kept looking around the room. You had your gun at the ready while you looked under the king sized bed; nothing. You got up from the floor and jumped slightly when you saw Lucifer standing right next to you. He repeated his question. You ignored. He repeated the question yet again and you ignored yet. He repeated-
"I lost a lot of people close to me and I don't want to keep losing them!" You finally shouted at him, your breathing ragged. "I can't- I can't deal with it so I act cold. I act mean. I do want friends but I just can't do it."
"(Y/N)..." He mumbled your name softly. You would of broke down there if you hadn't heard a creak come from the closet. You bit your lip and pushed back all the emotions you were feeling. You walked towards the closet carefully, your weapon at the ready.
You barely make to the door when a burning pain hit you in the abdomen. You noticed the door had a hole through it before you knees buckled from the pain. Another shot rang out and you were hit again, right in the shoulder. You finally fell onto your back, a sob passed through your lips.
"(Y/N)!" Lucifer rushed to your sign, his eyes wide and his expression worried.
"Lucifer..." You cried, blood coating your hands as you tried to put pressure on your wounds. The door swung open and out came the two suspects. They both had guns pointed at Lucifer.
"Y-You are going to let us go and we won't kill you." The butler threatened, but his shaking voice made him seem less threatening.
"You stupid humans." Lucifer seethed, and you could of swore that you saw his eyes glow red. He turned from you and in an instant the man was disarmed and thrown against a wall. The butler slumped down, knocked out. He then turned to the woman and did the same, she let out scream before it was her turned to be tossed.
"Lucifer-" You called to him again which he was at your side once more. He peeled off his suit jacket and placed it over your abdomen wound. "Please... Please don't let me die alone." You hiccuped and winced from the pain.
"I'm right here, darling. I am not going anywhere." He tried to stay calm for your sake but the panic was starting to consume. His breathing was erratic as he stared down at your bloody, sobbing form. You were just starting to open up to him, even if he made you do it with a bit of annoyance, but you let down some of your wall. Now you were wounded, bleeding out right in front of him. "You aren't alone, (Y/N)."
"I'm sorry, Lucifer."
"Why are you sorry, (Y/N)?"
"For being so-so cold towards you. I actually do like you but I just-" You sucked in a deep gulp of air. It started feeling hard to get air.
"No, don't be. I quite like you too, I just didn't understand." He smiled sadly, tears started building up in his deep eyes. Lucifer continued to talk to you, even when paramedics came in to help you out. He followed them to the ambulance and rode with you to the hospital, he promised he wouldn't leave you alone for awhile.
-------
Lucifer and you grew close after that, extremely close. You were almost fully healed up and you were hanging out with Lucifer in his penthouse while off duty. You learned that he truly was the actual, biblical Lucifer and he confirmed you did see his eyes flash red. In turn he learned about the people who betrayed you, the exes that cheated on you, and the people you were close with passing away. He vowed that if he ever came across those who wronged you he would indeed enact some sort of punishment.
You were laying on his couch while he played random songs on his piano. You had the sudden urge to stand up and join him at his piano. You leaned against the instrument and watched with curiosity as his hands moved up and down the white and black keys: you recognized this piece as one of Beethoven's sonatas. He played the last measure of the piece and then looked to you.
"Yes, darling?"
"Oh I was just watching you." You smiled.
"How are your wounds?"
"They are a bit sore but the stitches have pretty much dissolved completely."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Lucifer." You watched as he stood up from his piano bench and placed himself in front of you.
"We didn't start off on the right foot and it took you almost dying for both of us to get to know each other." You picked up on how glassy his eyes were starting to look. "You are a stellar human, one I have grown to... to love." His voice got softer towards the end.
"Oh, Lucifer." You smiled fondly. "I feel the same way."
Lucifer beamed and leaned forwards, planting such a soft and gently kiss on your lips. His hands pulled you lose to his body and you wrapped your arms tightly around his frame.
You were so happy to have let down those walls for the Devil.
"I will always be with you, (Y/N)."
#Lucifer Morningstar#Lucifer Fox#lucifer fanfiction#lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer x y/n#lucifer morningstar fox#morningstar#lucifer morningstar imagine#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer morningstar imagines#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar x y/n
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Cabaret Club Czar Training - YUKI (Part 2)
continuing her training, yuki and majima talk about dating, dreams, and princes!
highlights:
- yuki being concerned that majima’s unwell because he was nice to her
- majima’s accidental double entendres featuring chafing and crotches
- yuki, on the potential of feeling some attraction to majima: “oh... i don’t know how i could ever forgive myself...”
full transcript under the cut!
---
MAJIMA: Alright, let's do some more training.
YUKI: Y-Yes, thank you for taking the time!
M: What's up, Yuki-chan? You nervous again?
Y: N-Not at all! It's battle butterflies again!
Y: Okay! Let's get started! I want to get better at talking to my customers!
M: That's the spirit, Yuki-chan! Alright, I'm gonna be your customer, and we're just gonna talk. Are ya ready?
Y: Y-Yes!
Y: Hello! I-I'm Yuki! Thank you please for coming in toda-- tonight, um, have a good...
M: ......
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M: Alright, let's get to know each other a little better, Yuki. Not that I care, but why don't ya tell me about what kinda guy you like?
Y: Wh-Why do you have to put it like that!? When you say it that way, it really doesn't inspire the most creative of answers, Majima-san...
M: Yeah, yeah, my bad. So tell me about your type already.
Y: Let me think... I... I like a guy who can be my prince!
M: Uh. A prince?
Y: He should be kind, tall and handsome, with flowing hair! He'd really respect me, and he would look good riding a white horse, y'know!?
> Sounds just like me.
M: You talkin' about me, Yuki-chan?
Y: Huh? What do you mean? Majima-san, are you saying you're a prince!?
M: Sorry, Yuki-chan. I may be your ideal man, but I can't be your prince.
Y: Ahaha! Majima-san, you say the funniest things!
Y: Majima-san, you're not exactly a prince... Oh, I know, you'd be the evil chancellor who betrays the kingdom!
M: An evil chancellor!? It's the eyepatch, isn't it!?
> I think I get you.
M: I can see that. If I were lookin' for a lady, I'd want a princess, too.
Y: Huh? Wow Majima-san, you actually see eye to eye with me on something? No way!
M: Hey, if you're gonna hold onto dreams or ideals, ya better swing for the fences.
Y: Exactly. I'd prefer to chase the ideal of my perfect man. But, he might not actually exist... Maybe my standards are too high.
M: Lemme ask you, Yuki. How old are you anyway?
Y: I'm 23.
M: Hmmm... I see, I see...
Y: Uhhh, what's with the sudden pause?
> That doesn't exist!
M: A guy like that doesn't exist! That's on the same crypto level as a tsuchinoko, a unicorn, and a yeti!
Y: H-How do you know that for sure? The tsuchinoko could be out there...
M: Look, there ain't no such thing as a tsuchinoko. Someone probably just looked at a fat snake the wrong way.
Y: Awww, Majima-san, you're just a sad man who's lost all his imagination and dreams!
M: Yeah, and you're an adult now yourself, so maybe it's time you grew up a little... What were we talking about again?
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M: ...Anyway, I'm surprised you're such a dreamer, Yuki-chan.
Y: I'm allowed to dream, aren't I? I went to an all-girls middle school, high school, and university, so I've been dreaming about my prince charming for a long time now.
M: Ah, so you grew up surrounded by girls at your schools. I'm startin' to see why it's tough bein' around men.
Y: Oh, I... I'm sorry.
Y: So, I guess what you're saying is... my customer service skills are lacking because of that... right?
M: What's all this then?
Y: Well, since it came up, I've been wondering if my issues talking to customers might be holding everyone else back, and I wouldn't want that...
> A club needs variety.
M: A good club needs a wide variety of girls, actually.
Y: Huh?
M: I mean, sure, it'd be nice to have someone who could actually talk to the customers...
M: But some guys prefer girls who come off like they don't buy into the whole “nightlife” business.
Y: Hm, I wonder...
M: See, a girl like you adds appeal to the club as a whole, Yuki-chan. We can cater to all walks of life that way.
Y: Wh-Why are you so nice all of a sudden? Majima-san, do you have a fever or something?
M: What? What're you talking about?
Y: No, I just thought you were going to give me a hard time like you always do... I was just a little shocked, is all. So thank you.
M: Hmmmm, what kinda guy do you take me for?
> Don't worry about it.
M: Don't even sweat it. With me at the helm, a problem here and there ain't nothin' I can't deal with.
Y: I knew it. I am causing problems. I'm really sorry...
M: Ah, no, no. That's not what I meant. I was only tryin' to cheer you up, Yuki-chan.
Y: *sigh*
M: (Wow, she's really down in the dumps, now.)
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M: Hey, I know it's probably a ways off, but I wonder what you'll be like when ya do get yourself a boyfriend, Yuki-chan.
Y: Y-You never know! My prince might ride in on his white horse and sweep me off my feet tomorrow!
M: Riiiiight. Cape, sword, and the whole nine yards.
Y: That didn't sound sincere at all!
Y: But, a boyfriend... When I think about dating, all I can think about is how much of a hassle it is.
M: A hassle? Even if it was your equestrian princeling?
Y: If my boyfriend really were a prince on a white horse, it'd probably be even more of a hassle than dating a normal guy!
Y: Every date would be a struggle for the right clothes and make-up, and even then, I can't begin to imagine what I'd be able to talk about with him.
> You'd figure it out.
M: If you liked him, you'd make the effort, though.
Y: Really? Majima-san, you're the last person I expected to hear that from.
M: Really? What's up with that?
Y: Oh, it's just that you suddenly sounded so encouraging and supportive, and it took me by surprise. Are you sure you're feeling okay?
M: Of course I'm okay! I do say positive things every now and then, y'know.
Y: My heart skipped a beat there... Oh, I don't know how I could ever forgive myself...
M: Say what?
> That's this job though...
M: You donkey! You gotta do all that at work here every day. Gettin' dolled up and talkin' to guys is your job, remember?
Y: Ohhh. That's true... If I have trouble with that on the job, I'd probably be bad at it in my private time too...
M: Hey, none of that, now. If ya got time to feel sorry for yourself, you should channel that into uppin' your game.
Y: Upping my game... Yes, you're right. I can't always be a burden to this club. I'm... I feel more motivated now!
Y: Majima-san, can you tell me the number one thing that I've been missing? I really want to know!
M: Uh, lemme think about that one. Hmmm.
M: Thinking big picture... I'd say you're missing everything.
Y: *sigh*
M: Oh! No no, I take it back! Nevermind, Yuki-chan!
> Do a horseback date.
M: Well if he picks you up on a horse, I say ride with it.
Y: Ah, that would be great. So romantic!
Y: We'd ride together on his white horse, into the wind... I would grasp him tightly behind his back, our thoughts as one without exchanging words...
M: Don't get too ahead of yourself, Yuki-chan. Remember, riding a horse'll chafe your thighs.
Y: Ch-Chafed thighs? What!?
M: Yeah, ridin' a horse is a real pain in the crotch till ya get used to it. Ya don't wanna be a whimperin' mess in front of your prince, eh?
Y: Hey, Majima-san! Can you please not bring up crotches and chafing when I'm trying to talk about romantic things? Try to be delicate for once!
Y: But... Now that I think about it, I should learn to ride a horse. Wonder where I could practice...
M: Hmmm. Beats me.
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M: You know, you're an odd girl, Yuki-chan.
Y: Odd? What's weird about me?
M: Well, in one breath you're sayin' you'd wanna date a prince, and in the next, you're sayin' it'd be a hassle.
M: You're like a grumpy old man in the body of a romantic young lady.
Y: What do you mean!? A grumpy old man? At least make it a grumpy, middle-aged woman!
M: So grumpy and middle-aged is fine, long as you're a woman?
Y: I'm just not starved for love. There are more important things in life than romance!
M: Well, maybe this is a bad time to bring it up, but have you ever actually gone out with someone, Yuki-chan? I get the feeling you've never dated...
Y: I-I-I've gone out with plenty of guys! Of course! Th-There's Sato-kun, Suzuki-kun, and... Tanaka-kun!
> Those are last names...
M: Ya know, if you're gonna lie about ex-boyfriends, you should probably use their first names, Yuki-chan.
Y: Oh!
Y: That's true! If you're dating someone, you'd call them by their first name, wouldn't you? I've learned something today. Majima-san, you're great!
M: That's all it takes to impress ya? Whatever. Anywho, lots of club-goers like an inexperienced girl like that, so it ain't exactly a bad thing.
Y: Uhh... You're right, I guess. I'll keep doing my best.
> I yield!
M: Ah, well you sure proved me wrong. You've got quite a bit of dating experience, Yuki-chan.
Y: Y-Yes, that's right. Haha... Ha... Oh...
M: What's the matter?
Y: I got so tangled up in my own lie, it made me kinda sad.
M: I kinda figured. But y'know, it ain't all bad. Some of our guests actually like inexperienced girls better. Cheer up.
Y: Right... I'll keep it positive and do my best.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
M: Okay, I think that'll do it.
Y: Th-Thank you for the lesson.
M: Sure thing. Good job.
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Seventeen’s ideal type
A/N: This is just my personal estimation of what kind of person I think would be complementary to them. I tried to neutralize it by explicitly not referring to a him or her, which is why I used them/they instead. Hope y’all have a nice day! :]
S.Coups
Someone that knows how to take care of themselves well, whether it be something practical like cooking or taking a day off to focus on your mental wellbeing
I think someone who is comfortable in their own skin and confident would compliment Seungcheol well
Has to be supportive of his ambitions! With his busy schedule he’d really appreciate someone who understands what he’s doing it for and it’d mean the world if his future S/O could stand by that fully
Would love someone who can match his energy and return his enthusiasm, someone to bounce off of so to speak
Doesn’t necessarily have to be an extrovert, though he would definitely appreciate someone who’s willing to initiate things in the relationship, like dates, conversations, calls etc.
Someone who’s warm and affectionate, he’d want to feel loved and appreciated (hugs and compliments!!!)
Let’s him take care of them once in a while and doesn’t mind how protective he can be at times
A person who knows how to enjoy their life and live in the now would be perfect for him! Seungcheol has said before he likes someone who can eat well ;]
Jeonghan
Someone who hypes him up (lowkey shamelessly)
Especially by promoting Seventeen’s music to everyone they know
A person who’s unapologetically themselves (kinda like Jeonghan when he’s caught cheating for the 99th time) and owns it like a boss
He’d prefer his future S/O to be someone who’s more on the feminine side, maybe also someone who is naturally cute
Someone who is sensible and attentive toward their environment, a person who knows how to adapt to different situations depending on what is suitable/needed -- kind of a go with the flow type of person
A person who’s able to think for themselves, someone who’s not afraid of going against the mainstream opinion / someone who’s not swayed by others opinions easily
I’d definitely see Jeonghan with someone who’s more on the chill side, someone he can hang out with at home and order take-out with
Someone who can give him space when he needs it (instead of someone with a controlling character)
I think Jeonghan would also like someone who knows how to dress well, like someone who knows what suits them best and is interested in fashion
Joshua
Somebody who is as well-mannered and polite as him!!!
Has to have a kind heart, so not just someone who shows kindness but really someone who’s just kind through and through (y’know what I mean??)
Joshua would love someone who is quite open-minded and accepting
Someone who respects others opinions and treats people like equals
Would really want to be able to understand and connect well with the other person (and the other way around!),
Someone who’s non-judgmental and a good listener
A person he can have all kinds of conversations with (even about kind of weird/random topics)
Would definitely appreciate someone with a quirky side/personality to them, he’d find it intriguing (and honestly, Joshua can be a bit quirky at times too hehe)
I think he’d also like someone who’s down-to-earth and humble, like someone who’s just drama-free
Someone trustworthy and reliable, someone who is mature and knows better than to talk behind people’s backs or share secrets that weren’t theirs to share
Jun
If you can return his flirtatious remarks with playful banter I guarantee you this guy is gonna fall head over heels for you
A person who matches him in terms of playfulness
Jun would like someone who can keep him on his toes and surprise him
Someone who is more on the spontaneous side / someone who has a multifaceted personality
He’d appreciate someone he could be weird and childish with together, like a person that he can do all kinds of fun stuff with
Would definitely be attracted to someone who can be both cute as well as sexy, someone who knows how to dress well would also catch his attention
A person he can dote on (and a person that dotes on him in return)!!!
I think Jun has a highkey weak spot for someone who is kinda 4D, a person that is more than what they appear to be (i.e. someone who is actually really quirky and humorous despite looking very innocent and quiet, y’know what I mean??)
Someone who is a bit on the mature side, who knows when to be serious and is also capable of taking care of others around her when needed
Hoshi
I think Hoshi would also find it important to be with someone who can match his enthusiasm, this doesn’t mean that you gotta be as hyped or enthusiastic as he can be sometimes, but more so that he’d need to feel actively stimulated (in short, someone who meets him halfway)
Bonus points if you’re naturally optimistic and bubbly!
Would really appreciate someone who is easygoing and fun to be around, someone who really enjoys what they are doing
Someone he can be comfortable around, even if neither of you say anything
A person who is openly supportive and affectionate toward him, and not afraid to initiate dates or surprise him every once in a while
I’d say Hoshi is also the type of guy who would feel attracted to someone that gets along well with his friends and family
Someone who’s a bit more on the cute side in terms of personality (and looks, for that matter)
A people’s person, someone that’s more extroverted than introverted / someone who’s comfortable and feels energized being around people, also someone who’s rather charming and eloquent/persuasive!
Wonwoo
Wonwoo’s ideal type would lowkey be the female lead of a historic kdrama ngl
Definitely someone who is elegant/graceful! A person that’s gentle and takes good care of her friends/family but also her possessions
Someone who comes off a bit more mature (no matter their age)
I think he’d suit a person who shares the same kinds of interests, someone he can talk with about what you thought of that book you both read and stuff like that
Wonwoo would definitely value someone who is intelligent, a (deep) thinker of some sorts with whom he can have meaningful conversations with
Someone who is quite self-sufficient and not dependent on others, a person who is reliable and trustworthy
Maybe also someone who gives off lowkey mom-friend vibes
A person that appreciates the little things and cherishes those little moments they can have with him
I don’t think he’d mind if the person were introverted, I actually think he’d appreciate someone who’s more on the quiet/reserved side
Now that I mentioned that, somebody who doesn’t mind comfortable silences!
A person he can be alone with together (like studying or reading together)
Woozi
Someone who balances him out, in other words: someone who accepts his calmness and seriousness
A person who’s more talkative and social than he is would match him well, someone that’s kind and friendly
Someone who understands him (his behavior, decisions, etc.) well!
Mutual respect toward each other’s careers and ambitions!!! Someone he can look up to and admire for who they are and what they do
Someone he can learn from during the relationship
Definitely someone that makes people feel at ease, someone who gives off warm/welcoming vibes
A person that makes him want to talk more
Someone that’s non-judgmental, but rather open-minded
I think trust would be very important to him, to be able to trust his future S/O, but also to have someone fully trust him as well
Someone who’s not afraid of confrontation (doesn’t mean that they’re overly assertive or aggressive!), a good communicator and listener!
Perhaps also someone who gets him out of his comfort zone from time to time
Someone thoughtful and considerate toward the people around them!
DK
Someone kind and friendly, someone without any facades whatsoever (lowkey ‘what you see is what you get’)
Definitely someone who is very energetic as well, or a person who gets excited very easily
Dokyeom would probably value someone who is (almost) always in high spirits
I think he’d definitely like someone who is really good at what they’re doing, whether it be singing, drawing or teaching, he’d definitely admire your talents a lot
Lowkey cannot resist someone with an infectious laugh and/or eyesmile
Speaking of which, someone who laughs a lot!!! Somebody who easily breaks into smiles & laughter would be perfect for DK ngl
A person who is not afraid to be goofy and crack up jokes (even if 5/10 doesn’t land well)
Would very much like it if their future S/O is somewhat of a moodmaker, someone who livens up the mood with their lightheartedness or humor
Someone truthful, just a person who doesn’t lie and would rather speak the truth
Mingyu
Someone who, regardless of their age, gives off noona vibes in how dependable and caring they are towards their friends/family
A person that’s rather confident would match him well, just someone that knows what they are worth and what they deserve (would definitely be a turn on ngl)
Definitely a person that’s chill, no drama whatsoever, just someone who easily adapts to different environments and gets along well with various kinds of people
Mingyu would definitely appreciate someone who makes the effort to get to know him better, past all the superficialties and small talk
Someone he can let down his guard with, someone he can come to when he’s in need of an energizer or a shoulder to lean on
Lowkey would melt for someone who’s a good hugger and/or a really good friend to their friends
I think he’d be interested in someone who knows what they’re talking about, someone who’s got a bit of life experience / wisdom
A person that sends him little reminders from time to time, like that he shouldn’t forget to take some time for himself, or to eat well and stuff
The8
I think Minghao would really be impressed by someone who has an eye for fashion, someone who really understands fashion trends and the like
Someone that respects his needs and decisions, someone who sees him as their equal
Especially someone that fully stands beside whatever decisions he makes, a person that’s always there for him in the end
Somebody that’s sincere! Just a person that’s kind-natured (i.e. not someone who would gossip behind people’s backs)
A person that is always ready to help people out, like a person that regularly does volunteer work or donates to good causes often
Someone honest, that goes for all the members of course but I think Minghao in particular would really hate it when people lie
A person that owns up to their shit and takes responsibility when they make mistakes
The8 would definitely suit someone who is naturally cute, aegyo just comes naturally to them
Overall, someone that has their back and is kind toward (almost) everyone would be his ideal type
Seungkwan
Someone that appreciates his humor and who he is as a person, especially how lively he is
I think Seungkwan is a person that needs a lot of nurturing and appreciation in his love life, with that I mean: someone who is affectionate and someone who compliments them a lot!
Basically, someone who hypes him up would be perfect for him ngl
Someone that’s proud to have him as their boyfriend!!!
A person that’s nice company, just someone he knows he can count on for whatever it is he needs to talk about in particular
Definitely someone who’s like a best friend to him!
Someone compassionate and empathetic, someone that understands his sensitivity and what is meaningful to him (and respects that)
Seungkwan would probably feel attracted toward someone that tends to take care of others around them
Also, someone who’d get along well with the people in his life, especially his family!
Vernon
Someone that gives off lowkey homegirl vibes, someone who’s laidback and goes with the flow
Someone he can frequently hang out with, whether that’s playing video games or just chilling at home and watching movies
A person with good taste, he’d really like someone who has a nice music taste for that matter
Wouldn’t mind someone who is a bit different / who fully embraces their quirkiness!
I think Vernon would also like someone that’s genuinely interested in him, in his opinions and views for instance
Someone forgiving and understanding of others, not someone who tends to keep things inside all the time
A person that lives in the now, really someone that doesn’t worry much about past, present nor future, but rather lives in the now
Someone he can share his random thoughts with and who reciprocates the randomness in turn
Definitely someone that just rocks their differences, someone who’s unapologetically themselves
Dino
Someone confident, who knows what they are doing would most probably attract Dino
A person who tends to be cute, someone who has a lot of aegyo and isn’t afraid to show it every once in a while
Someone who’s more on the talkative and bubbly side perhaps
Someone that lets him take care of them once in a while
Chan would suit a person that shares a similar mindset, like someone who values the same things in (approaching) life
Someone that’s good at their job!
I think Chan would find someone who’s serious and hardworking about their career particularly attractive
A person that’s ambitious/passionate and goes after what they want in life
Someone who knows how to look out for themselves
Mutual respect and appreciation for the other and what they do!
A person he can learn from in the relationship and be inspired by
#seventeen#kpop reaction#seventeen reaction#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenario#seventeen ideal type#kpop imagine#kpop scenario#s.coups#mingyu#hoshi#dino#dokyeom#dk#wonwoo#seungkwan#woozi#seungcheol#vernon#joshua#jeonghan#jun#minghao#the8#seventeen boyfriend
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