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arthenaa · 1 year

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college! graphic design artist! seb x fem! reader sneak peek (inspired by true events HAHAHA i projected me and my gfs experience on this)

an: might turn into a fic !! a mix of socmed au and writing. if ever i dont turn it into a fic, ill be uploading a completed ver soon of this whole meow meow. for now enjoy!

It was supposed to be a time for discussion. Thesis work was what you exactly hoped for; a pain in the fucking ass. It was mostly expected that you'd already have a planned group before the semester started as it was a course that would last for 3 whole semesters.

That meant you'd be spending a whole school year (basically) with that group of people.

Alas, your introverted self only relied on randomized groupings and you only had a very very small social group that had different schedules from yours. You were doomed and panicking.

Luckily with the help of your professor, whom you had discreetly approached with your problem after seeing that other groups had already filled in their required numbers— had placed you in a group of four who had still yet to find a 5th member. You were thankful, yes, however, the present predicament had proved to be quite troublesome for your performance on your first meeting.

Three of your groupmates were absent. Three.

You think it might be alright to work as a pair for now considering that one was out of town, one had org duties and the other was not feeling well but the anxiety of being in a new setting with new people wasn't really doing good for you right now.

You had to depend on this man for a short presentation due in like 2 hours and you were both doing nothing.

You look down at your notes, scribbles of possible topic ideas written haphazardly across the sheet of paper. Your eyes then flicker back onto the man sitting adjacent to your seat.

You forgot his name but his face was hard to miss. You first saw a glimpse of him hosting one of the school's functions and had a great relationship with most of your professors. He was a popular kid but a good one based on your assessment of character.

He was slouched on his seat, legs stretched out on the floor and crossed over one another. He lets out a yawn as he rests his cheek on his arm propped up on the armchair while his eyes never seemed to leave the screen of his Macbook.

He seems to be busy typing several things which made you slightly feel scared that he might've been doing things by himself and forgetting your presence.

This is obviously something you're entirely assuming as he looks up from his laptop and locks eyes with yours.

You immediately look down at your notebook and begin busying yourself with the tassels of your bookmark. A flush spreads across your cheeks at being caught staring.

How could you not stare? He was known to be friendly and someone you saw often due to his reputation and connections with various school organizations. He had an overall approachable personality and was practically an attention magnet.

And also because he was .... cute.

College life wasn't exactly as much fun as your older friends used to say. It was a nightmare and an obligation you had to begrudgingly attend to. Uni days consisted of you just trying to survive throughout the week so it's safe to say your love life was as dry as the fucking desert. It was super rare to see a guy this cute in your field.

You allow yourself to scan his fit for today. How could he make an outfit as mundane as a green sweater and jeans look so ... good? The rings adorning his fingers and the black strapped watch on his wrist added to the charm and you could only will yourself to not stare even further as you'd probably be deemed as a creep by this poor young guy.

"Hey," His voice snaps you from your reverie causing you to flinch in your seat. Your look up at him in surprise as he leans forward to catch your gaze. "Y/N Y/L/N, right?"

"U-Uh yeah?" You answer timidly, fiddling with the bracelet adorning your wrist. He smiles at your answer before responding.

"Um so, I've thought of a few topics right now. Can I share them with you?" He asks softly, aware of the quiet working ambiance of the room. You nod at his offer, body positioned to listen to his proposals.

However, he only stares at you as if he's expecting you to do something else. There's a moment of silence that leaves you confused and unsure if you did or said anything wrong. It doesn't take long before you began spiraling down in a chaotic mess of overthinking. You would expect him to tell you his intentions but you certainly didn't expect what he'd do next.

"Um uh, apologies in advance—" He smiles sheepishly as if to warn you of an incoming danger. You tilt your head in confusion before watching him as he leans down, arm grabbing the underside of your chair before effortlessly pulling you close to his side. The chair glides against the floor (thankfully it had guards on its legs so the noise wasn't all that ear screeching) and you yelped in surprise at the sudden movement, gripping your armchair in the process.

It seems to have caught your professor's attention and Sebastian only sends an apologetic smile for disrupting the silence. You turn to him with wide eyes.

"I — What?"

"Sorry. I was expecting you to move but you looked like you were about to have an aneurysm or something." He chuckles as a flush spreads across your cheeks. You huff out in embarrassment before directing your eyes toward the screen.

He starts off like the previous events didn't happen. It was kind of embarrassing for you to see him so nonchalant as if he didn't just fucking drag you by one arm. He lists off his ideas to which you nod in response. Up close, you could smell the scent of his cologne and the warmth emanating from his body. He had such a huggable physique and the scent only lulled you even further to your urges.

You begin to relay your ideas as well, stumbling and stuttering over your words but he only listens patiently. Taking in your ideas and even noting them in his document.

You felt oddly touched. He heaves a sigh of accomplishment as he scans over your topics and plans of presentation. There was about an hour left before the teacher would began calling names.

"Yeah. This is good. We can present this later." He seems impressed by your ideas and makes some edits before slightly bending down the screen of his laptop.

You shuffle in your seat, unnerved by the incoming silence that would again remind you of your troubles with social interactions. He, however, turns towards you much to your surprise. A pleasant smile is plastered on his lips. You're granted by a nice view of his face as the sunlight from the window lightly hits the back of his head, creating a halo of some sort.

Dear Gods. What are you implying by this.

Wait— What the fuck. Does he have a fucking dimple?

"Quite busy aren't we?" He asks, leaning back on the chair with his head turned towards yours. In your peripheral vision, you see his leg moving from side to side as he twirls his pen on one hand. "You seem to always have a lot of things to stay and yet, nothing."

"S-Sorry." You mumble, tucking a hair behind your ear. "I'm not good with..." You motion to the space between the two of you. "This."

"Ah." He nods in understanding. "It's alright. Although, I do want to say that I don't bite. So you can freely speak your mind here."

He flashes you a boyish grin that does wonders to your heart. You watch him run a hand through his curls.

"Do you even know who I am?" He raises his eyebrows expectantly before backtracking. "Well, to be fair I didn't introduce myself and I'm acting like a fucking bigshot or something. Not my intention at all!"

He raises his arms in defense, chuckling at his response. You smile softly at him.

"I-I know who you are," You reply. "It's just the name I'm having a hard time remembering."

"Oh?" He sits up. You feel his knee hit yours and you will yourself not to flinch as your body slightly tenses at the touch. "Well in that case. I'm Sebastian Sallow. ID 121."

"Ah, yeah," Your face lights up in recognition. "Yeah, I remember now— Sorry, I'm just really bad with names."

"It's alright." He shakes his head lightheartedly. "There's a lot of people in campus so I also have a hard time remembering as well."

Your hands fiddle with each other as you glance up at him. He still has his eyes locked on yours and you can't help but avoid his unwavering stare.

"... I also know who you are." He cuts the silence once more. You turn your attention back at him in surprise. You would call yourself delusional right now but with the way he's smiling at you, you can't help but assume he's being bashful for recognizing you.

You? Recognizable? As far as you were concerned, you were practically invisible to the public eye. Just an art student surviving on her own.

"Huh?"

"Um, we were classmates before actually," His grin is wide but uneasy. Like he's uncertain if saying this would ease the gap between the two of you. "On one of our graphic design courses? It was with Professor Garlick, if I recall correctly."

Oh?

"That 6 pm class back in the first semester?" You lean towards him, intrigued. He seems shocked at your sudden interest.

"Yeah. Miss loved your output and made a whole lecture about it." He recalls. You remember her praises about your final output. Gods. He was in that class? "Made a mark in my head for sure."

"That's embarassing." You whine in protest, palms against your face. He smiles in response.

"It was rather eye opening you know? A revolutionary moment for artists—"

"Stop please." You hold your hand out to stop him from further pulling you in a spiral downward to madness. He only smiles wider.

"For what it's worth, it was well-deserved to be praised and discussed for an hour and a half." He quips, teeth showing as he grins at your exasperated face.

"Has your friends ever told you you're quite insufferable?" You raise an eyebrow at him. Your voice holds a tone of teasing. He laughs in response.

"Don't remind me." He rolls his eyes, smile still beaming on his lips. "Besides, I was just merely telling the truth."

"Aha, right. Whatever makes you happy." You gently nudge his shoulder with the back of your hand. It was supposed to be a small innocent touch but with the way his smile fell and his eyes that immediately followed the motion of your hand, you could tell that there was something else going on in his head.

Before you could question it, he immediately recovers.

"Well, I still have three semesters to win you over." He sighs, dreamily. "I think that's a win."

"You mean a nightmare." You snort in reply. He laughs.

Your eyes glance at his crinkled eyes and face riddled with laughing lines as laughter bursts out of his lips. His laugh is melodic and something you could probably never get tired of hearing.

Your eyes widen at your thoughts. That was only a mere observation. Anyone sitting within a meter from him would also say the same.

Yes. yes. That's right.

"You're drifting again." He sits up and its the sudden feeling of his thigh against yours that snaps you back to reality. You gulp at the sudden add of touch and you expect him to move it away but he stays there. You huff out a shaky breath. "It almost looked like you were shitting yourself."

"Gods," You furrow your eyebrows at his words. He chuckles. "You're insufferable."

"That's one." He clicks his tongue under the roof of his mouth. You roll your eyes at his antics. There's a moment of silence before his voice slices through it once again. "Have you... Have you ever thought about what I said?"

"Which one?" You ask nonchalantly, fingers flicking through your notes. You pen taps on the paper as you await his answer.

"The one where I said I'm as bad as you with names." He speaks with a calm demeanor but his voice is hushed as if his words are reserved for you. You can't help but give him you're undivided attention.

"Um," You pause. "No not really?"

His eyes dart toward you in the corner of his eye before smiling that familiar boyish grin.

"I like to make exceptions." He vaguely says. You furrow your eyebrows, head tilting in confusion.

"Huh?"

"I already said I know you, Y/N." He chuckles. You feel butterflies roaming in your stomach albeit confused at his insinuation.

Before you could ask him what the fuck he meant by that, the professor calls out your group. Sebastian walks to the front with no hesitance and began setting up the presentation.

Just as you watch him work, the realization sets in. Heat immediately flushes your cheeks.

No fucking way.

You stand up on shaky legs before you walk to the front. Your eyes never leave him as you stand beside his figure. You were nervous, yes, but it also had something to do with the vague motherfucker beside you.

You were about to threaten him to tell you what, how, or why but as you lock eyes with the man beside you, he sends an adorable smile and small pat on your back.

Your face stiffens and you could only will yourself to forcefully stand beside him and await your turn on the presentation.

But there was one thing you deduced from all of this.

Sebastian Sallow from ID 121 is doing things to your poor little heart.

a/n: projecting myself on seb when i tried to flirt w my gf. might contain grammatical errors lmfao im so sorry IM FALLING ASLEEP AS I CURRENTLY TYPE THIS.

#arthenaa #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy fluff #sebastian sallow fluff

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glazedwriter-mystery0014 · 2 years

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“Well Hello Again Little Dove...”

Short Clip of “She Loves I'm “Sophisticated”.”

Lolatos: “😑.... Your highness....”

Armand: “Princess Lolatos....We have been acquainted again...”

Lolatos: “It’s has been a while as we speak...”

Armand: “Yes, it is but that’s doesn’t matter anymore...” *Walking through the crown princess in with a heart of stone from both of his eyes.* “Our parents is waiting for us at one of the royal private grounds again, princess.”

Lolatos: “😑.....” *Gazing at him noiseless a bit and then walking to nonidentical direction in a bit of rub up the wrong way when the prince talking to her in ill-mannered from his tone.*

Armand: “.....Hm?” *Turning his head around and then looking at Lolatos as he saw her heading to the additional direction.* “And where do you think you’re going?”

Lolatos: “I am heading to one of the villages with Hilia and few of friends of my. You can stay and have chit-chats with the snobs and heartless royals who’ve exaggerated respect for high social position or wealth who seeks to associate with social superiors and dislikes the lower-class peoples like_”

Armand: “Can I come?”

Lolatos: “😐!!! Wait what?”

Armand: “I say can I join with you and your friends?”

Lolatos: *Feeling a bit questioned and surprised at the same time.* “You wants to join with me and my friends? I thought you don’t like thrill-seeking places and other stuffs? 🤨”

Armand: “W-Well... [Clearing of his throat.] I-I just wants to try something n-new for a change...E-Even though I’ve still got to learning and practicing in one of my royals to be king of my kingdom and trying to put one of my little siblings protected from harm/danger if they’re unpleased by my behaviors...” *Saying to her in a bit timorous from one of his emotions.* “And beside when my sister, Amalia, she’s always going on her own exciting experiences with her brand-new friends, while me and others staying in this palace....😞”

Lolatos: “...O-Oh.... Well uh.. Ok then...You can join.”

Armand: “😐😐😐!!! R-Really?”

Lolatos: “Y-Yeah... But don’t acting like mean-spirited weed-brain to me and my friends, okay? Just trying to be a bit kindhearted for a while. 😤” *Hiding of few blushes from both of her cheeks.*

Armand: “U-Um... Okay.”

Lolatos: “And also, wears something a bit comfortable and a bit casual when meet with my friends.”

Armand: “Yes ma’am.” *Started to heading to his royal master bedchamber with a bit blushes from both of his cheeks while he is looking and founding something a bit casual and comfortable to wears.* “.......”

Meanwhile with Crown Princess Lolatos....

Lolatos: H-Hmmm.....😣😣😣

Hey every each and single one of you far-fetched and mind-blowing, talented artists and writers~ Listen I’m so sorry for not posting of my sketching and my drawings because I had to re-doing my first chapter of my story and I was trying to make my story to be amazing and awesome just like the other writers creating and making their stories unique but I won’t give up because I am still determined and hardworking but anyway I’ve got graduate from yesterday~! Yay me! And also I am going to London, Paris, Rome on August 19th too! 😊😊😊 How’s cool is that? But anyway again, I am posting of my Dofus/Wakfu Oc known as Crown Princess Lolatos Tokones~ The crown princess and highborn monarch of “Territories of The Sânziana”~ And she is secretly love-interest of Prince Armand Sheran Sharm otherwise known as “weed-brain”, that is what Lolatos calls him when they met each other in their families’ royal meetings. Well I’m going explaining all of you artists and writers about her later because I’ve got to finishing other posts I’ve need to finish! But then again, I am hope all of you artists and writers have awe-inspiring and amusing summer breaks with your pals and buddies, your families, and your loved ones~! See ya later~!!!

Crown Princess Lolatos Tokones belongs to @gloomycherub-mysterious/ @sullenwriter-log/ @glazedwriter-mystery0014

Prince Armand Sheran Sharm belongs to Wakfu

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adjacentheart01 · 8 months

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Thread of twitter date: 08/07/23

Hi, well this might b a little weird, n it's going 2b a little more personal, so this will b quite a long thread about feelings, thoughts n concerns I've been having lately, so it might b hard 2 express myself since Im not used 2 doing things.

well, in fact it is the first time that I do something similar. N since this place has really grown more than I thought, it seems necessary 2b honest show my heart n soul. 4 as long as I can remember Ive been a person who loves 2 create art, when I was a child I really enjoyed making plasticine models of cartoons n even sold them, I used 2b around 9 yo, n I don't want 2b a braggart, but I did very well 4 the how old I was haha nnn that made me want 2 bcome an artist when I was older, although I never really knew what it meant 2b that as job, I was unaware of that world, but I loved seeing creations, paintings, sculptures, etc. Then I stopped modeling in plasticine cuz once I had a order 4 a Puss in boots larger figure hahaha. it would b the 1st time that I would do something of that magnitude n I agreed, n at the risk of being a novice, I delivered the order, n I was aware that the job I did was horribleeee, n the face of the boy who asked me 4 that order also expressed displeasure, but he didn't say anything 2 avoid making me feel bad 4 sure. But having failed someone made me abandon those ideas of bcome an artist Later when I was 14 yo, my best friend liked 2 see people drawing, especially creepypasta fanarts, u know Jeff the killer, Slenderman etc haha, n cuz I love her in secret I tried 2 learn how 2 draw in a traditional way to call her attention, it just wasn't my thing, but I love her so much that I began 2 strive 2 improve, every day I gave her a drawing without fail, n used 2b mostly 2 cheer her up cuz she was going through moments difficult. cuz of this, I gained fame in my class for being the boy who drew, n I adopted this activity as my main hobby, and I began to enjoy doing it a lot, Later, at 16 yo, I created my 1st facebook page, inspired by making fanarts n webcomics like the artists I admired. This is how Adjacent Heart was born 4 the 1st time, I used that name cuz it was the one that randomly gave me microsoft 2 create my minecraft account haha, n I used 2 use the "Shade" alias. That's how I met many friends n entered the "artist" world, time passed n my community grew little by little, I loved all that, although at that time I was going through many difficult things at home, emotionally, n I used 2b a depressed person, I thought about dying many times n attempted against myself many times. My refuge was drawing.

When I was 17 I met a girl with whom I had an relationship, she was even better known than me in this world (n she still is) , I used 2 show her off a lot n gave her looots of drawings, nnn things didn't end well in this relationship.

I ended up even more depressed n due to the embarrassment with which I ended up 4 showing her off so much, I stopped drawing for many years, n I eliminated Adjacent heart, since now drawing reminded me of her n just sad things.

I still had my friends n they continued on this way but I stayed behind, I liked 2 see how they grew n improved more n more, but I was still lost…

At that time I did not know what to do with my future, I didnt know if I should study or work, or at least what Id direct myself to, in my eagerness 2 discover myself I began to take classes in psychology n philosophy in high school, also I attended therapy n my 1st idea was to bcome a psychologist, but I had no idea what that profession really entailed. :( I started picking up my pencil again n drawing some things n remembered the love I had 4 drawing, only this time I didn't show anything I did 2 anyone, then when I was close to 19 yo, I continued with that uncertainty, and I was about 2 finish high school, n there were only 2 weeks left for the college enrollment, n I didn't know which college 2 choose, my uncles were offering me not 2 continue n work as a police officer. among other jobs. My head was about to explode cuz I didn't know what 2 do n I was suffering from strong anxiety attacks, my mind told me that I should choose to study a career, but when I reviewed the careers within the colleges that r close 2 me, none of them really convinced me, they were very limited n I didnt see myself working any of those professions, that's when my psychologist told me 2 think about the things I like 2 do n choose a career based on that. Without thinking about it, drawing came 2 my mind, but I wondered, what job do u really work drawing?

My mind has always been small, n I come from a place where most jobs r just being store clerks or laborers. So I didn't know anything, bfore when I had my 1st facebook page I opened comms but I never had any luck with it n I thought it was a failure, So I researched on the internet "careers where u can draw" and highlighting among many were graphic design or animators, but I didn't know anything about that, n the only thing I had heard about graphic design was the typical phrase "u're going 2 starve"

Then, with great curiosity, I investigated about colleges near me that had similar degrees related to design, n I found one that also teaches animation, but this college, despite being the closest 2 me, forced me 2 leave my town and go to live elsewhere. I still remember how overwhelming it was, since I had never come out bfore, n also when I saw the content that would b taught to me, I realized that I would have 2 learn about computers n at that time I didnt have any kind of knowledge about them, everything I did from my phone, In addition, when I told a friend about it, he told me “if you finish that degree, do u know how to get a job on it? n I just answered "no"

There were only 2 days left until the enrollment, the next day I used it 2 learn how to get 2 that place outside my town, n later that same night I remember that I had one of the biggest crises of my life combined with an anxiety attack, I had to make the decision, go away 2 study that career that interested me, stay 2 study a career without leaving my town, but it would b a career that I wouldnt have any interest in, or work.

I made my decision n I really dont regret it, I left my town, I was out of it n I got away from the people I knew, but I met many new ones outside, I was able 2 find myself n I even remember that in times of the pandemic, I spent a year in complete solitude with my thoughts which helped me to live with myself. At last I knew who I am n I was able 2 get out of my darkness, I felt happy. The school was a bit difficult at the beginning, I really enjoyed drawing n hand painting classes, but I wasnt good with machines, it was hard 4 me 2 get used 2 using a computer n I always fell behind in assignments, but I tried hard n I began 2 master all those design programs, I learned 2 edit video n animate, n not cuz of the school since the educational plan was a little deficient n some teachers were mediocre, so I had 2b self-taught 2 pass the subjects, my knowledge It was enriched n I was even forced 2 learn 3D which I never imagined doing in my life haha.

During the college I even made a new art account again, 2 upload drawings or school content n even my classmates n me added ourselves, but this time I had another alias, since I didnt want 2 remember my old times again n start since 0. Currently that is my SFW account, n it was during this time that my friends started 2 push themselves into the world of commissioning n began to explore NSFW, which I was also very interested in, from both an enjoyment standpoint n an artistic standpoint as well. It just made me very embarrassed 2 talk about it, but now thanks 2 my friends I was able 2 talk about it more openly n no one was judged. That is how, thx 2 them n their support, I was encouraged 2 enter that world in which I was interested, the world of nsfw art, but now getting back 2 that alias that I abandoned a long time ago, Adjacent Heart, with the desire 2 have another identity n not mix that SFW account that all my classmates n even several relatives know about, Only this time I wanted 2 turn Adjacent Heart in something cozy, warm n above all sweet into something that tormented me bfore.

n that's how this candy store was born on june 23, 2022 officially (cuz previously it seems 2 me that I created Adjacent heart but I left it aside n it was not until this date that I got down to work)

So now comes the end of this story, on June 28 of this year I graduated. After 4 years, it has been a long way, n I have returned to my hometown. But now my head is filled with uncertainty again about my future, Those who have read everything up to her will wonder, why? So now comes the end of this story, on June 28 of this year I graduated. After 4 years, it has been a long way, n I have returned to my hometown. But now my head is filled with uncertainty again about my future, Those who have read everything up to her will wonder, why? I have the skills n the requirements, doing so could give me legal benefits, a salary fixed n stability. That would help my family get ahead n possibly help me chart a clearer way 2 my goals, But considering my time as an intern, I wouldnt want 2 b in a company where Im simply seen as a replaceable piece, n furthermore my time is divided between the company and what little free time I'll have, n I wont b able 2 dedicate time 2 this candy shop :c

On the other hand, I can choose the way of being able to develop my skills as an independent NSFW designer/artist here, in my candy store. This year I have been able 2 forge a base where I can start from now n I feel very happy n at ease ^^, n I really love that as a freelancer I can have control of many things, like my time, my ideas, I interact with u n I can have a presence, something that in a company I couldnt do since I'll b under the name of this one, n here in my candy shop Id like 2 do many thiiings, I have many ideas where Id exploit the knowledge I learned during my time at the college, I could offer brand identity services, animations, 3D, vtuber art, n much more, I have a lot of things that Im excited 2 implement :'3, n so I'll even learn even more along the way n get better n better. Im very excited 2 see that the seed that I sowed a year ago has bcome a sprout now <3

The disadvantage that there is as a freelance is that this way will depend on myself, n I have to see my own legal benefits, taxes, etc. That I could solve by hiring the services of someone to help me with that, but even so, I wont stop being close 2 the process, n this path will depend on my effort, unlike a permanent job here I'll surely start with irregular earnings, the way would b unstable n I'll have a lot of uncertainty, n that terrifies me, Knowing that this way can bcome something stable n safe encourages me to choose it n move on, 2 make it grow. But the uncertainty makes me tremble, thinking about failure like the one from a few years ago, n I dont close myself off doing sfw projects either, n that's my other fear, as an nsfw artist, if I fail or want 2 work on an sfw project within a company or with someone, they'll probably like my skills…

but by the time they find out about my nsfw artworks, they may look at me with displeasure, I may b judged, despised, mocked, belittled or in the worst case rejected. Since in my history they'll see the NSFW as something bad, as a taboo, Something that I dont think so, from my POV I dont see anything wrong with it n I even enjoy it, ofc it can b something private n intimate 4 several people, but it isnt something that should b demonized, sexuality is an important part of many people n each one exercises it as they like, as long as it doesnt harm third parties or oneself with excess, everything is fine c:

But it really bothers me that a lot of people still see doing nsfw as a blemish on ur way, or think that just by doing it they think Im always dirty-minded or something like that, when actually I could say I'm a soft person n there is nothing wrong with make that content, n I understand that in some cases it's necessary 2 separate some people from the adult content. But contempt just 4 doing something I like is my fear,

That's why I don't really like having to hide my identity in adjacent heart's account 2 show my sfw side, cuz I feel like I'm hiding something that's part of me, even though I'm wearing a mask here, it seems like I'm hiding more of myself there, n 4 all n this reason, Im very grateful to those who support my content n continue here, n I say it from the bottom of my heart, thank u very much <3, u have also sweetened my way, n that is why despite my fears, I'll watch over this candy shop.

My heart asks me 2 choose my candy shop, n I want 2, n I will, I have a lot 2 show, but in short I'm afraid of failing, n without realizing it, the dream that I cherished as a child of becoming an artist, which I abandoned long ago, is before me once again

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

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tattoo artist sukuna

I am way overdo to get my sleeve finished and I’m already itching to get a full back piece, so this is right up my alley. Gender neutral reader, and if you’d like to see the tattoo style i reference please go to @/novchild.jpg on instagram :)

It was a spur of the moment decision that led you to drive downtown with your friends at nearly midnight, drunk off each other's energy and eager to do something reckless. Speeding down the motorway, you scrolled through Instagram in search of a tattoo artist.

“Are you guys sure about this?” Your nerves had finally caught up to you as the car was parked in front of the studio you all chose. It was a typical brick and mortar building with a large skull painted on the only window to the outside world. There were a few bald men smoking cigarettes right outside the door, scrawling ink covering their exposed hands and faces.

“Yeah, c’mon!” No one waited for you, everyone climbing out of the car in excitement. Slowly, you got out of the car as well, head down as you walked past the men and into the shop.

Loud, blaring metal music met your ears, jarring you upright and tense. There wasn’t anyone you could see at the front desk, the only workers were huddled in a back corner leaning over something and laughing.

“Which one should I get?” Your attention was drawn away from the men in the corner and to the art hanging on the wall, all different flash sheets from various artists. Some were more gory, clearly drawing inspiration from horror movies while other pieces were bright and colorful, like bubblegum pop come to life.

“Hey.” A gruff voice cut through the loud music, and a man was now leaning against the front desk, spiky black hair in a ponytail with a bored look on his face and several piercings in both ears. He was clearly sizing you up, the black bar going across his nose moving as he did.

Unprepared to speak to him, you were happy when someone else stepped in and started chatting about prices. The man at the counter had on a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, exposing one full arm and hand that was completely blacked out.

“Choso, any customers?” Another shouted, a man wide in stature with long hair. He sauntered up to the counter, tight black t-shirt showing off the traditional Japanese work covering every inch of skin.

“Getou, can’t you see?” Choso rolled his eyes and gestured to your little group.

“I can’t make conversation?” Pulling a face at Choso, Getou leaned his elbows on the counter and flashed a wide grin at all of you. “So, who’s the first to get some ink?” His narrowed eyes looked over your bare skin and you could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I am! I want that one!” One of your friends pointed at the wall, making Getou hum and nod.

“That’s Gojo’s work, he loves to draw the cute shit. I’ll call him over.” As a white haired man walked over at Geto’s call, one by one your friends made their decisions and were paired with artists.

“What did you choose, (Y/N)?” A friend asked, seeing you still stuck staring at the wall.

“I don’t know!” Throwing your head back, you were beginning to regret even tagging along. There were simply too many options and the task of picking something was daunting.

“Having a hard time choosing?” A flash of white crosses your vision and soon Gojo is leaning down into your field of vision, piercing blue eyes staring at you curiously.

“U-uh yeah.” Stumbling back from how close his face is, you realize how tall he is when he stands up straight, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Me and another guy just got done making a new flash sheet, lemme show you.” It takes him only a couple seconds to go back to his station and come back with a piece of thick paper with drawings on it.

Taking the paper, the drawings were unexpectedly cute. A lot of them looked like rough sketches or crayon drawings, simple in concept but intricate in detail.

“I’ll take this one.” Pointing at a mid-sized crayon drawing, your mouth ticked up in a smile as Gojo took the paper from you with sparkling eyes.

“That one is so cute, good choice! One sec!” Tossing the paper down, he dashes away shouting nonsensical words towards the back of the shop where they’d all been huddled up. “Sukuna! Someones here for ya!”

Rising straight up from a chair with a loud groan, a shirtless pink haired man glared sharply at Gojo. Even from a distance you can see the sharp black lines tattooed across his face and down his body, circles on each shoulder, dashed lines across his chest down his stomach and around his wrists as well.

“Geez you can really yell, you know that?” Running a hand through his hair roughly, Sukuna stands up, flexing his muscles and unknowingly giving the whole shop a show of his chiseled physique.

“There’s a client here to get a piece we made together earlier.” Shoving the paper in his face, Gojo points to the piece you selected. Sukuna mumbles a few words and sets his eyes on you, walking over with a swagger that makes you nervous.

“Alright, where do you want it?” Leaning close to you, Sukuna quirks a brow.

“I don’t know.” You sigh softly, looking down at your arms and legs. “I don’t-”

“Your arm, right here.” Grabbing onto your arm, Sukuna turns it outward to expose the flesh of your inner arm. “It would look good right here, about the size of my palm.”

“O-oh okay.” Nodding quickly, your face is burning when he lets go. His touch still lingered on your skin, the edge of his black painted fingernails digging in briefly as they squeezed you.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes, go sign the paperwork.” Sukuna speaks with his back to you, already walking to the station he had been sleeping at and setting up. Rushing to fill in the proper papers, you wait nervously at the front of the shop for your turn.

The rest of your friends are already getting started, the whir of the tattoo machines adding to the ambience of the shop. With a wave Sukuna calls you over to his corner, still shirtless with a pair of gloves on.

“Hold out your arm.” Grabbing you once again, Sukuna angles your arm in front of a mirror by the table. Rubbing ointment on your skin, he sticks the stencil on and rubs firmly, making you squirm from the tickle of his hand getting close to your armpit.

“What do you think?” Stepping to the side, he looks at you in the mirror. “Little to the left? Right?”

“No, it’s perfect.” The longer you look at it, the longer you love it. Giving you a pat on the shoulder, Sukuna led you to the table, having you lay down and stick your arm out.

“This your first one, I can tell.” He said, adjusting your body how he seemed fit and rubbing more ointment on you.

“It’s that obvious?”

“Oh yeah, only a first timer would get something like this from me.” A cocky grin spread across his face and he gestured to the wall behind your head, covered in realistic black and white portraits. “This is normally my speciality.”

“You drew yourself?” Pointing up at one of the pictures that looked exactly like him minus the face tattoos, you chuckled.

“Nah, that’s my twin.” Your brows rose in surprise and you looked between Sukuna and the picture.

“Does he have-?” You waved over your face and body.

“He’s too scared to get a tattoo, says he’ll get ink poisoning and die.” Sukuna laughed, pouring out the various colored ink into little cups. “Won’t even let me do a tiny dot on him!”

“Safe to say you two are pretty different then.” You found yourself laughing a little as well, eased at Sukunas laid back nature.

“Mhmm, he’s busy going on the straight and narrow while I’m here ‘ruining my body’ as our grandpa likes to say.” Flashing quick air quotes, Sukuna revs up the machine and fiddles with the buttons. “Alright, you ready for this? Won’t have virgin skin anymore after this.”

“Yes!” Clenching and unclenching your fist, you pushed a deep breath through your mouth.

“If you start to cry, I won’t stop. And if you pass out, I’ll just wake you up.” That was his final warning before he leaned forward, using one large gloved hand to spread the skin of your arm taut.

The first prick of the needle against your skin made you jolt, sucking in a sharp breath and making your eyes fly open. Sukuna snorted, wiped your arm with a towel and kept going. Honing in on the marks and exposed pipes in the ceiling, you tried not to twitch from the needle anymore.

“You’re doing pretty well.” Sukuna mumbled, briefly sitting up and dipping in for more ink.

“Really?” Taking a look at the tattoo, you were surprised to see only one line had been done. It felt like at least three were placed into you.

“Yeah, don’t screw it up.” Sticking his tongue out at you, Sukuna went back to work. Transfixed on watching him, you saw the lines go into your skin, overflowing with ink and being wiped away repeatedly. You were also watching the way Sukuna’s arms flexed, the muscles in his body all on display right in front of you.

“Tell me about yourself while you stare at me.” Sukuna said, not looking up from your arm. Immediately, your head whipped away from him and a deep burn ran over your face. Sukuna laughed at your embarrassment, patting your arm with the paper towel a few times.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re not the first one to do it.” That didn’t make it any better. Slapping a hand over your face, you let out an unintelligible noise from the back of your throat.

“Just great.”

“It’s okay to say you have a crush on me, a lot of people that come to the shop do.”

“Sukuna!” Laughing through the shame, you glanced over at him.

“Hey, it’s the truth.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well can you blame them when you’re built like that?” Feeling emboldened by the late night hour, you took a rather obvious look at Sukuna’s body. With only a pair of sweatpants on, you could see nearly all the tattoos he had.

“Aw thanks doll, I work out.” Sukuna shot a wink at you, briefly flexing both arms and making you blush again. “But enough about me, what about you? What made you come here so late at night?”

“My friends and I wanted to do something spontaneous.” Returning your gaze to the ceiling, the ache from the tattoo gun was beginning to settle into your skin. “And what better way to be spontaneous than to get a tattoo?”

“Ha, I hear that.”

“Why’d you get the ones on your face and stuff?”

“Thought they’d make me look cool, and I was right.” Giggling at his honesty, you quickly nodded in agreement.

“The ones on your face, did they hurt really bad?”

“The ones near my eyes yeah, those hurt the most. But thankfully Choso has a steady hand, so it didn’t last too long.”

Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your own face, drawing along the edge of your jaw and eye socket. There was no way you could get your face tattooed as heavily as Sukuna had, if at all ever. You had only just now gotten used to the pain of the needle on your arm and you were still twitching every so often.

“How’re you holding up so far?” Sukuna whispers close to your ear ten quiet minutes later. He’s completely focused on tattooing you yet his face is close enough that if you leaned up a little, you could graze his hair with your nose.

“Fine.” You whisper back, suddenly feeling awkward with the low tone of his voice.

“That’s good doll, real good.” His voice dropped even lower, overcompensating for the song ending over the stereo speakers. Trying not to stare at his serious expression, you look over at the other stations. Gojo is chatting up your friend excitedly, and there’s a number of colorful inks laid out before him. Choso and Geto are hard at work as well, with Choso pointedly not speaking, and a blonde man you’d noticed drinking a large mug of black coffee earlier with his button up sleeve rolled up to reveal two dragons on his forearms.

Just as the pain in your arm was starting to truly burn, the tattoo was over. Sukuna washed it down gently, patting your arm and humming to the song playing. Sitting up with a short grunt, he flicked his head to the mirror.

“Go ahead and take a look.”

Sliding slowly off the table, you held your arm out awkwardly and stood in front of the mirror. Your arm was slightly swollen and stinging, shoulder stiff from being in the same position for so long, but a smile spread on your cheeks.

“I love it.” It looked exactly like the picture: a crayon style drawing of a brown haired girl in a giant green frog, a big pout on her lips while the frog sat on a lily pad.

“Lemme snap a couple quick photos before I wrap you up.” Already with his phone out, Sukuna was quick at taking pictures, posing you like when he’d put the stencil on. “I’ll run down the aftercare stuff with you, also give you a card in case you forget any of it.”

You didn’t hear a thing he said about aftercare. Standing nearly chest to chest with Sukuna while he rubbed ointment on your skin and wrapped your tattoo up, the way his arms nearly wrapped around you to put the cover on, the gentle touch of his fingers pressing medical tape to your skin, even the way he was breathing softly and looking at you - it all had you distracted.

“Alright, you’re all done.” Sukuna patted your arm, breaking you from your trance.

“Thank you so much!” Looking down at your tightly bandaged arm, you could feel the intense heat radiating out of it. You quickly snapped your own picture of the bandage as Sukuna dug around in a drawer.

“And since I could tell you were zoning the fuck out just now, I wrote my number down on the aftercare sheet, so text me if you have any questions.” Holding the paper out to you, Sukuna had indeed scribbled his phone number on the paper in thick black marker.

“Can I really just text you?” Taking the paper hesitantly, you fiddled with it in your hands.

“Of course! I want your tattoo to heal well!” Sukuna nodded, throwing his arms out dramatically. Waiting for you to gather your stuff, he walked you to the front of the shop. “Text me anytime doll, I stay up late.” He whispered right before you got to the front counter, making your jaw drop and ears burn.

“(Y/N), you really got a girl in a frog?” A friend laughed, a bandage wrapped around their thigh.

“It’s cute!” You defended it, holding your arm close to your body.

“The cutest fucking one.” Sukuna added on, slapping the counter and pointing at everyone.

“Aren’t you cold without a shirt on?” Choso mumbled, typing away on his phone in the corner.

“No ‘cause I’m not anemic like you are.”

“It’s still cold outside.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s cold in here!” The two of them quickly devolved into petty squabble, giving each other light hearted shoves in the shoulder while Geto collected the money from everyone.

“Bye, thank you so much!” You all called out as you left, waving goodbye and shrugging your jackets back on.

“I’ll be waiting for that text, doll!” Sukuna shouted right as you stepped out, blowing you a kiss when you whipped your head over your shoulder in shock.

“Text? Were you flirting with him?” A slew of curious looks were thrown your way, making your shock even worse.

“N-no!” You stuttered and immediately grimaced at it, face getting warmer as you climbed into the car. “We were just talking while he tattooed me, he just wants to make sure it heals right.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say. Let’s go to the drive through now, Geto told me to eat something after getting tattooed!”

“Hey check Sukuna’s Instagram story, he already posted your tattoo (Y/N)!”

“Really?” Rushing to pull out your phone, it was indeed true. Sukuna had posted one of the pictures he took of your arm, a few silly frog gifs surrounding it, with the caption ‘painted a pretty doll with a pretty frog, hope they come back for more xx’.

“You two were definitely flirting!” Shouts resounded in the car, everyone giggling wildly at the caption. Giggling along with them, you quickly typed a message to Sukuna.

(Y/N): hey Sukuna this is (Y/N). Thanks again for the frog! And the picture you posted on your story looks really good :)

(Sukuna): no problem doll

(Sukuna): next time you want a tattoo, text me and i’ll draw up whatever you want

“Sukuna said he wanted to tattoo me again!” You announced to your friends, all of them oohing and crowding around your phone. “What should I say?”

“I’ll do it!” Someone snatched your phone before you could say anything, rapidly shooting off a message and tossing the device back to you.

(Y/N): are you free tomorrow?

“He’s not gonna-” Right as you were beginning to shake your head and type another message, he replied.

(Sukuna): for you? of course

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Comics | A.G

Paring: Aidan Gallagher X Fem!Reader

Summary: Aidan meets an unusually pretty girl at a library while trying to find a textbook for school

Warnings: Cursing

This male was not easily captivated by females. His heart was guarded with the highest of security. Being hurt multiple times was the reason for his high guard.

Not only that, but he was surrounded by actresses and models his entire life. Pretty girls didn’t phase him. Smart girls did. Intelligence was a significant impresser for him.

This girl, whom he found himself falling for, was extremely intelligent. She was a good beauty, of course, but her smarts are what made her stand out. Her sense of style was odd as well.

Her earrings had Yahtzee tiles, the right ear had the letter F, and the left had the letter U. She wouldn’t be her without her signature, Doc Martens. A blank jacket usually resided around her waist, along with a graphic tee covering her chest. Jeans or leggings were generally on her legs.

Aidan adored her. She was gorgeous, and her brains were brilliant. Her personality was bright, just like her vibrant dyed hair. This girl we’ve been speaking about, you may ask? Her name was Y/n L/n, and she was brilliant.

Y/n had finished college by the time she was just twenty, and Aidan was just finishing his associate's degree. They met at a library.

She was browsing through the comic book section like she frequently did. He was looking for a textbook, but his eyes were caught on this extraordinary female sitting at a table alone. The textbook had fallen from his hands, causing a clattering noise.

Y/n perked up at the sound and saw him. He was cute, in her opinion. But he seemed so far out of her league. He was adorable. He picked up the textbook and sent her an awkward smile that made her heart race.

She looked over at the nervous male and sent him a wink which caused his cheeks to flush a scarlet. Aidan walked over and bought the textbook. Then with hesitation, he walked to her table and sat before her.

Y/n slowly looked up from her comic book to see him with an open textbook out, accompanied by an iPad which was meant for writing notes. Y/n’s head laid in the palms of her hands.

“ Did I startle you? “ Aidan queried nervously, “ No, not at all. But it seems that I have surprised you. “ Y/n smirked, and Aidan blushed again.

“ Y- You did startle me. “ Aidan stammered, “ That’s adorable. “ Y/n snickered.

“ Whatcha got their pretty boy? “ Y/n questioned, trying to glimpse at the textbook, “ O- Oh, it’s um- “ Aidan began as he scrambled through his notes.

“ It’s my last class. I need to get my associate's degree. I graduate in December. “ Aidan answered, “ I remember those days. “ Y/n reminisced.

Aidan furrowed his eyebrows at the girl, “ Got a question for me? “ Y/n teased, “ I don’t mean to be rude, but how old are you? “ Aidan asked out of pure curiosity.

“ Twenty years old graduated college with my bachelors in May. “ Y/n responded, and Aidan was taken aback, “ H- How? “

Y/n chuckled, “ I started college my junior year of high school. I work as a comic book artist. This is part of my work. I analyze comic books because it helps me when working to draw my characters. “

“ H- Have you read The Umbrella Academy? “ Aidan inquired, “ Indeed. It was one of my assignments to analyze it in college. I’ve also watched the Netflix series. You are Number Five, if I’m not mistaken. “ Y/n explained.

Aidan visually gulped, “ Y- Yeah. I did play Number Five. “ Aidan replied, “ So you’re the famous Aidan Gallagher. “ Y/n taunted.

“ I guess so. “ Aidan responded, “ So Whats someone as famous as you talking to little me? Mm? “

Aidan’s cheeks flushed again, “ Y- You caught my eye. I think you’re pretty. “ The male nervously spoke, “ But if the rumors are true, beauty doesn’t appeal to you. Intelligence does. “ Y/n replied with a slight smirk.

Aidan didn’t speak. She knew him or knew about him. She was smart, brilliant. She had all her facts and knew them like the back of her hand. It left him astonished.

“ Might wanna close your mouth. You might catch swallow a fly by accident. However, it’s just a suggestion. “ Y/n winked, and Aidan immediately closed his jaw.

Without another second passing, Y/n stood up with her book in hand. Then she exited the building. Aidan was left in shock at the forward female. Now he was left wondering if he would ever see him again.

A couple of days later, it was Saturday. This meant that Aidan would go live for his Patreon. Secretly he hoped that the girl would join. Hell, he didn’t even get her name. He’d never find her again.

Aidan started the live, and immediately the chat was filled with different comments. The male searched through some of them. He was desperately looking for something to start a conversation with.

“ ‘Do you have more music planned?’ “ Aidan read aloud, “ Yes, indeed I do. I’ve recently been overwhelmed with inspiration. “ The male answered.

Again he skimmed through the comments, “ ‘What was the past week like?’ “ Aidan questioned, “ Well, I’d say it was interesting. I met this person getting my textbook for my last class, and they were very intriguing. “

Now the comments were flooded with questions asking who this person was or what they looked like. Aidan scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“ I- I actually didn’t get their name. “ Aidan stuttered out, “ ‘What did they look like?’ Well, they had dyed hair and sported a pair of glasses. They also had Yahtzee earrings. They were really cool lookin’. Regardless they caught my attention. We had a little chat, and then they left. “ Aidan explained.

That’s as far into detail as Aidan got when speaking about her. Truthfully he couldn’t say much more other than how confident and cocky she appeared to be.

After finishing his class on Monday, he scrambled to grab his things and head to the library. But this time, he had a specific gift for the girl who he didn’t know the name of. However, he thought the gift would be much better in her hands than his.

So, without a second thought, Aidan sat down at the same table and began notes. The sound of a bell ringing is what caught his attention. There she was. She was handing the librarian a stack of comic books.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The girl then proceeded to walk out of the door, and Aidan grabbed the gift to follow her.

“ Wait! “ He shouted as he left the library.

Y/n turned around to be met with the boy she met only days ago, “ Hello? “ The confident female chuckled, “ I- I saw you check in all those comic books and not getting any. May I ask why? “ Aidan queried out of breath.

“ Well, if you must know, I’m moving. It turns out Los Angeles isn’t the place for me. “ Y/n responded, her tone airy and light, “ O- Oh. Well, I wanted to give this to you. “ Aidan spoke, slightly disappointed at the news.

Y/n took the comic in his hand. It was the first issue of the Umbrella Academy, “ I love the thought, but I already have a copy. “ Y/n denied softly, “ Open it. “ Aidan replied.

Hesitating, she opened the comic. On the first page was a signature. Not just anyone’s signature. Gerard way’s signature. That had been her idol for years and the entire reason she was in the field of comic book illustrating.

“ D- Do you like it? “ Aidan asked nervously, “ How did you? And why? Stuff like this is valuable. “ Y/n said as thoughts ran past her head.

“ Well, I have the other copies signed at my apartment. I thought this would be much better in your hands. “ The male smiled, “ I hope you don’t mind, but I may have accidentally left a bookmark in there. “

Y/n shook her head, “ No problem. “

Y/n smiled and kissed his cheek. Aidan’s cheeks flushed a bright pink, and Y/n smiled as she clutched the comic close to her chest.

“ Y/n L/n. Remember it. “ Y/n winked as she walked away.

Aidan watched as she left him on the sidewalk dumbfounded, “ Oh, I’m so fucked. “ Aidan murmured, knowing he was wrapped around her finger.

#aidan gallagher x reader #aidan gallagher #aidan gallagher imagine #Aidan Gallagher x y/n #Aidan Gallagher x you #five hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x y/n #number five x reader

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sunnysidefangirl · 3 years

Text

Awaiting (Jungkook x reader)

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Warning: talks of anxiety, not 100% edited sorry, will probably go back to edit more later

Summary: reader goes to a concert and is transferred on stage when they see their soulmate.

A/N: This idea was inspired by @alpacaparkaseok ! Their soulmate stories are really good and since I have never seen that certain trope be done before I thought I should credit where I got the idea from! Go read their fics, they are seriously amazing! Anyways please don't plagiarize, I spent a lot of time on it so don't be rude! Copyright ©! Also imagine Covid is not a thing! Please like, comment, and repost if you liked it! I hope you enjoy! 💜

*****

You have to admit, you didn't believe it when your friend told you they had front row tickets to a BTS concert. Concert tickets are hard to get, let alone front row seats.

"Thank you!" Your friend said with a smug smile. She happily took the $30 dollars from your bet. You saying they were fake and her insisting they were real.

"Yeah, whatever." You rolled your eyes as the line moved closer to the entrance. The line was long but you and your friend were lucky enough to get soundcheck.

"I'm going to be Jungkook's soulmate, I can feel it." You heard a confident voice say. You wanted to roll your eyes at the adult that bragged her idea to the armys around.

When it comes to the artist you were going to see the only thing fans know is Jin has already found his soulmate but nobody knows their name, let alone what they look like. Other than that people assume the other members just haven't met theirs yet.

It was odd to hear those genuine thoughts. They travel the world and have yet to meet their soulmates from a concert.

Sure, it was a nice thought especially since Jungkook was your bias, but realistically he's probably not your soulmate.

You've imagined more than once what it would be like to meet your soulmate. You secretly hoped it would be somewhere in nature. A park, or on a hike, or over looking a lake. It just seemed like it would be a great experience, to meet the one made for you in beautiful scenery.

However you were probably a little a head of yourself, more than likely you would meet them through work or walking down the street or something minimal like how most people do.

In the blink of an eye, you were in the stadium. You and your friend got settled in your ideal spots close to the stage. Then the two of you fell into an easy conversation.

"So when you go to visit your soon to be mother in law you won't look like a totally idiot for not dressing like the cookie monster-"

"Uh uh oh uh uh ooohh."

Your conversation interrupted by the opening of the first dance number of the night.

"Oh my gosh, it's them! If I faint will you catch me?!" Your best friend asked, dramatically clutching her chest. She stood on her toes to get a better look, as if the front row just wasn't enough.

"No promises!" You shouted with a wide smile at the stadium got louder.

•••••••••••••

The concert was going great! You were having so much fun dancing and singing your heart out with the random people you had met beside you. That song ended and another one began.

When you looked up Jungkook was making his way down the stage with Jimin just behind him. His microphone was raised as he sang the bridge of the song. He turned to your side and looked at the audience. When your eyes locked everything seemed to zoom in on him alone. You got tunnel vision and he was your only focus, just as you were his. He couldn't pull his eyes away from you if he tried.

A sensation of gravity shutting off came next. You felt weightless and could no longer feel the floor below your feet. Then you felt as if you were being pulled, more like yanked, to your new destination. You choose to close your eyes as the motion got to be too much.

Jungkook didn't understand what was going on but he got the feeling that the world around him was spinning. The last thing he wanted to do was alarm the fans but he couldn't help but close his eyes as he stumbled over his own feet.

"Jungkook?" Jimin questioned placing a hand on his left shoulder. Did he suddenly get sick or something?

The feeling went away as quickly as it came, leaving a dull feeling of confusion. He opened his eyes just in time to catch something falling forward, that something was you.

Suddenly the face you had seen over your computer and phone screen, the face you had seen in magazines and commercials for as long as you have been a fan was less than a few inches in front of you. His dark brown eyes were big with shock and wonder and the sides of his face were slightly dampened due to the energetic choreography he had just done. The sea of army bombs created a mini galaxy in his eyes.

At first you thought, wow he looks so handsome.

Then you wondered wait, how did I get onstage?

Your mind seemed to catch up with you. You took notice that you were in fact on stage and in front of Jeon Jungkook. Could it be a possibility that it was the night before the concert and you were dreaming? This couldn't be real.

You felt your heart leap and an unintended gasp left you. Jungkook's mouth dropped a little bit and his own eyes widen in realization. The tall man helped you so that you were standing straight and took a small step back. However, he couldn't quite let go of you instead he kept his hands wrapped around yours.

The melody continued on without the maknae's voice. This caught the attention of many fans and the other members. They were all confused when the didn't hear Jungkook's voice. Luckily his part wasn't long and Jin quickly began to sing his own part.

You tensed within his hold and a feeling of happiness and dread filled you. Taking a look around the stage, you first saw V tap J-Hope and point in your direction. Namjoon was currently rapping his verse but that didn't stop his eyes from widening as well. Jimin who was behind Jungkook grinned at you. Suga had took notice of the situation as well with Jin neither of them knowing how they could fix this. That left every member either looking at you or doing their best to pretend nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

It didn't seem to be working because the audience started to get louder. You question for a moment if it was always this loud for the members onstage. It was hard to understand anything with all the noise but you caught a little bit.

"Look that's Jungkook's soulmate!" A voice closest to the stage squealed.

It was real. It was all real!

You were horrified. This moment, one of the most intimate moments between two soulmates has been seen by hundreds. It's probably been recorded by now. For all you know it would be on Twitter by tomorrow. This wasn't supposed to happen like this. You dreaded the thought of this private moment on social media for days to come.

Namjoon was quickly making his way over to you with a security guard as well.

Everything was moving so rapidly you just wanted to get out of this situation. You wanted to disappear. You began to realize you were breathing quicker than normal.

"Hey." A voice said so soft, you almost didn't catch it over the screams in the stadium. You look back to Jungkook only to meet the softest gaze you have ever come across. He looked so gentle towards you.

"It's okay."

He rubbed his thumbs over your skin attempting to calm you down and a shy bunny smile spread across his face.

"What's your name?" He asked with an excited glint in his eyes. Before you had the chance to respond a hand wrapped around your bicep.

"Come with me miss." The security guard said in urgency. Namjoon appears just a few seconds later and stands next to Jungkook. Just as you were being pulled away a strong grip stopped you.

"Wha-Wait." Jungkook mutters tightening his hold causing you to look back at him. He just met you, how could he be excepted to just let go of you?

"Jungkook, you can see her later but we need to get her off stage." Namjoon says in a stern voice towards the youngest.

Jungkook noticed the fearful look in your eyes and it made his heart ache. As much as he wanted to go with you so he could make sure you were okay he knew that your safety comes first. He then released your hand and in the blink of an eye you were ushered away from his sight.

The security guard took your arm and adviced you to keep your head down. You only looked ahead of your shoes not making eye contact with anything except the glossy stage floor.

When you got backstage everything passed by in a blur. People came up to you from all areas. They got you a bottle of water and lead you to a separate dressing room. You held on to the water bottle tightly, allowing it to serve as your anchor in all of this chaos.

"Wait here." The nice lady said with a small smile before closing the door. You took a careful breath in before gently letting it out. The room was bigger than you expected maybe that was because you were the only person in it. There were couches around making a U shape. Against the wall was a table of food and drinks, and as tempting as they looked you wouldn't dare grab one. The room was brighter and colder than it looked in behind the scenes videos.

Now alone in the quiet room you felt like you could breath a little bit.

You racked your brain with what to do now.

Jeon Jungkook was your soulmate.

Where do you go from here?

What about your best friend? She's freaking out no doubt.

Would it feel weird seeing as you were a fan?

You would just have to get to know him all over again. Learn his likes, his dislikes, and start as simple as possible. As you dig farther in your own thoughts you started to feel anxious.

Would he want to be with a random fan?

You honestly thought you were pretty, but what would others think? You know you shouldn't care but if he doesn't like the thought of you two together that would be another type of pain.

•••••••••••••

Intermission had finally started after another 4 songs. Jungkook practically flew pass the staff backstage once he found out which room you were in.

He rushed to the room that he was directed in but stopped short of running into the door. He stood stiff like a brick wall and took a deep breath. His soulmate was on the other side.

His soulmate.

He only saw you for a bit but his heart quickened at the thought of you.

He had wondered of this moment for a long time. Occasionally when the stress of life got to be too much he found himself dreaming of spoiling his soulmate and treating them like royalty. He would stay up wondering what their date nights would look like and what their love language was.

The other members knew how much of a hopeless romantic Jungkook was. They would often tease him whenever his head was in the clouds, they never took it too far though because they all secretly thought it was really sweet.

Jungkook thought about how he used to ask Jin about the meeting of soulmates and how it felt. He stopped asking after a while because of Jin's vague answers.

"I don't know, it just feels like...your being born."

"It's a warm feeling."

"You feel free...I guess."

"Jungkook-ah you'll know when you meet them!"

He had given up asking his hyung about how it felt to meet your soulmate. He tried to ignore any questions or thoughts of it but that was before he saw Jin cooking with his soulmate.

The look in his eyes while having his special person by his side warmed his heart. Jin's eyes gleamed with a distant euphoric look in them, it's a look Jungkook can't forget.

He wanted to feel that too.

You looked up at the sound of the door opening. Jungkook shuffles towards you in a daze. His eyes wet and red. You sprung to your feet suddenly feeling bashful and a little ridiculous under his intense eyes.

If you would have known you were going to meet your soulmate you would have dressed up a little more.

....maybe you wouldn't have worn your cooky headband.

He wordlessly took your hand once more. You allowed yourself to enjoy the unique feeling. His hand was very soft and a little warm probably because he was just dancing his heart out onstage. Your hands mold together and you swear electricity rushed through your veins. The room was silent as the two of you were deemed speechless. What do you say to the person you were waiting for all this time?

"Are you okay?"

When you look up, you see him blink down at you.

You grin at him and sheepishly nod. Jungkook let's out a small sigh of relief before smiling back at you. He lowers his head looking down at your connected hands. The ghost of the previous smile still on his face.

He looked so beautiful in this moment. You let your mind wander as you take in his features. Were you everything he dreamed of? Where do you go from here? Would you stay here? Would you go back home? Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. Would you even start your relationship now?

You jumped out of your intermonolouge when you felt something wet on your hand. Looking down at your intertwined hands you saw a small tear.

"Ah," He mutters using his other hand to wipe his face. The embarrassment he was feeling showed through his pink tinted cheeks.

You were stunned. You never imagined that your soulmate would be choked up at this, at you. However it made your grin wider and your heart swell with adoration. You took a small step closer but not by much. You raised your hands to his cheeks allowing his tears to be caught by your thumbs. Jungkook noticed you were hesitant in your actions. He was just glad to have you so close after all this waiting. Jungkook leaned into your touch as a sweet gesture.

You were never told what it would be like to meet your soulmate. Sure, you heard classmates and co-workers talking about their own experiences, however the most common description was that it was a wordless feeling. One that couldn't possibly be capture in a few words.

Now you understood.

Looking into his big galaxy eyes, you felt breathless. It felt like, you could search every planet in the universe and you still wouldn't find anyone like him. Your heart felt like it was craving his but also wanted to shy away from the bizarre feeling. How could you put a word to such an intense emotion.

Jungkook's eyes suddenly catch something above you and his smile widens. "I like your headband."

You let out a small laugh at his comment feeling your cheeks warm. "Day 1, and you're already teasing me."

Jungkook squeezes your hand and holds it with his other, making it so your hand was in between both of his. He held your hand so cautiously, like it was a precious jewel.

He then looks to something else behind you. You turn around and see his six older brothers looking at him with fondness.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt but we need you back on stage." Jin says. He hated to interrupt this moment. It reminded him so much of when he had found his soulmate. He just wanted to spend all of his time with them and to pull Jungkook away when he just met his just made him feel bad.

"Oh right..." Jungkook said a little hesitant. He look back at you, his eyes showing a range of emotions. "You will wait here won't you?"

"Of course." You respond without hesitation.

Jungkook gave you another bright grin before he followed his hyungs out of the door.

You found out later through social media, that while Jungkook was onstage he began to cry.

"I-uh..." Jungkook paused looking out to the sea of fans, that despite everything he wanted to share this moment with them.

"I just found my soulmate."

I hope you enjoyed! Please comment and reblog if you did!

💜💜💜

#bangtan #bts fluff #bts jungkook #bts soulmate au #soulmate au #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #soulmate fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts oneshot #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook headcanons #bts army

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blueprint-han · 3 years

Text

desert rose — yang jeongin.

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

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

pairing: jeongin x reader

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

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

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

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

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

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

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

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good, now go collect your flowers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lend me a hand, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was pretty.

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

Oh my, was this love?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it.

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous.

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long.

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now.

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch.

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across.

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all.

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.”

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned.

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon. You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door.

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod.

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up.

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days.

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly.

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it.

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately.

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly.

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.”

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?”

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.”

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course.

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

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

but what if she had never recovered?

taglist: @inkidz @stayverse @districtninewriters @kpopscape @skzwritersclub + @sunoo-luvs @sleepylixie @rae-blogging @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @guerillrah @p2q3r4 @baby-innie (Please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!) *oh holy lord pls let this show up in the tags*

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years

Text

"how come we've never spoken before?" x noel gallagher

why haven't I written anything for noel in ages??????? anyways this was so cute I hope u lot like it <33

Pairing: 1990! noel gallagher x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1.951

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

“You wanna come over tonight?” Liam asked me as we were walking out of the sixth form building. “Our kids coming to pick us up so was wondering if you wanted to come with.”

“Yeah alright.” I nodded, linking my arm with Liam as we walked out of the gates together. Going over to the Gallagher residence wasn’t an uncommon matter, if anything I was over at theirs at least once a week. Since their father had left the environment was always pleasant, his mum always cooking the best, most delicious meals which caused your body to crave it again each and every day until you returned back for dinner once again. As well as that, being able to spend time with Liam was always an enjoyable experience - him being my best friend since first joining the college, we hadn’t been able to separate ourselves from each other since. Of course, we would have different friends, different groups, but we always turned back to each other - something that I adored most about our relationship; we didn’t constantly need to be with one another to consider each other our best friend. Whenever I was over we would relax in his room, talking about practically everything and everything, sometimes smoking a joint by his window to prevent his mum finding out, even though the stench of it would stick to our clothes like glue - giving it away instantaneously.

After exiting the school gates, we walked for a bit until we reached the nearest neighbourhood of houses, where Noel said he would pick Liam up. To waste the time, Liam brought out a spliff from his pocket, placing it between his lips, then lighting it, him failing a couple times to get the lighter to produce a flame. “Give me a hit,” I said, watching Liam as he quickly inhaled the roll of weed, then passing it to me, a wave of smoke hitting my face from Liam’s mouth. “Stop that you twat.”

There was hardly anybody outside, from the look of the area, merely just the occasional car whizzing past us, causing the empyrean of smoke discarded from our throats to diffuse into the atmosphere. It produced a clear contrast against the skies, which had little to no clouds visible at all. Having a clear, sunny day in Manchester wasn’t something ordinary; it was a rarity, but for the past year the weather had been brilliant, though brilliant becomes unlivable when the temperature continues to increase to the thirties, celsius wise. That’s when the nature of constant traffic, crowded streets and lengthy queues at the ice cream machine disperse into their homes - the sun being too strong it becomes a chore to leave the house. Having the world so silent, hushed, brings another kind of tranquillity to the mind. Watching an inanimate street fixated in the same position, as if it were a ghost-town, encompasses that feeling of being the only person present in the world at that moment, which makes you realise that the life you live is not lead to be controlled of dictated by others - it is yours, and it is something in which you hold complete control over.

After a couple minutes of small talk shared between me and Liam, a small car drove past us, stopping promptly as the windows rolled down, indicating that it was Noel. Me and Liam quickly rushed out of the sun that was beaming down at us, to get inside his car; Liam hopping in the passenger seat next to his brother whilst I occupied the middle seat in the back. “Hi Noel.” I said softly, smiling at him through the rear view mirror, our eyes connecting for a short second whilst he greeted me back, then turning to greet Liam before taking off. Mine and Noel’s relationship wasn’t anything special: we spoke here and there, but since he usually was occupied by hanging out with friends, or travelling as a groupie for Inspiral Carpets, we never conversed much. It was a mere relationship formulated from my closeness with Liam, as manners are important - even if Liam shows the opposite. I was quite intrigued by Noel disregarding his conventional absences; he seemed to lead a life which was exciting and alluring, and was a complete contrast against Liam’s persona from what I had noticed. Liam was more into sports, mainly football, and causing havoc wherever he could (me constantly joining him since he knew how to have an absolute good time), whilst Noel seemed completely consumed by music and the wonders of working with bands. Regardless, they shared some idiosyncrasies, one thing in particular definitely being their love for weed.

Once we arrived at the house, we were greeted by Liam’s mum, who welcomed me in lovingly. “Always a pleasure to have you over, Y/N,” she said as I broke away from the embrace we shared to allow me to take off my shoes. “Liam, I'm going to need you to help me in the kitchen today.” she then said to Liam, whose face then dropped in complete annoyance.

“Why?” he moaned in response, sighing at his mum whilst removing his shoes. “Y/N’s literally here!”

“Maybe because you haven’t done the washing up for over a week, Liam,” she responded, turning her gaze to look at me, rolling her eyes at his demeanour. “Y/N’s not going anywhere, it won’t take you a year.”

After we were able to get Liam to do his chores, I told him that I would be waiting upstairs for him, in his and Noel’s room. Once I went inside, I wandered around the medium-sized room, finding my way over to Noel’s side, especially fixated on the stack of records that he had owned, aligned by the table next to the record player. He had all sorts of bands; the Beatles, the Who, the Smiths, Sex Pistols... All the best artists. The more and more I found out about him the interest I had about him increased. He seemed like a cool older brother to have, and share a room with, even though Liam sees boys in bands quite odd - which is humorous, since he’s practically an entity of his own. Proceeding to pick up a vinyl by the Smiths, the album in particular being the Queen is Dead, I admired the cover whilst grasping it in my palms. The Smiths were the only band that seemed to use the most aimless, but oddy aesthetic images of random men as their album covers - most likely courtesy of Morrissey’s desires - though I suppose is one element which creates the artistic composition of the band, and their music. Snapping me out of the trance I was consumed in, a voice echoed in the room, one which was definitely not Liam’s. “Like what you see?”

Turning around to find out who it was, I was accosted by the sight of Noel, who was holding a warm mug of tea. Flustered, I placed the vinyl back in the stack before taking a seat on Liam’s bed. “Sorry,” I mumbled, looking at Noel whilst playing with my fingers in my lap.

View stuck on him, I watched him walk to his bedside table, placing his mug of tea on the coaster, then reaching out to grab the vinyl that was once embraced by my palms. “You like the Smiths?” he asked, his eyes now connecting to my gaze.

“Yeah I do,” I said, smiling slightly at his question. “That’s my favourite album of theirs actually.”

“Didn’t expect that from you,” He replied back, taking a sip from his mug of tea before taking the vinyl out of its sleeve and placing it on the record player, watching the needle intently as it gently dropped onto the black disc before sitting back on his bed. The title track’s intro then seeped into the silence of the room, paired by Noel humming along to it. “Think their debut was better, if I’m honest.”

“Well preference always matters,” I answered back, walking over to his bed to grab the vinyl sleeve, gazing at the lyric sheets, also taking a seat next to Noel. I felt his stare on me, but I attempted to ignore it as I focused on the little verses of poetry in one of the songs. “Morrissey is such a depressing writer.”

A laugh rumbled at his throat at my absentminded comment. Averting my gaze, I looked at Noel and smiled again. “I’m not wrong!”

“What else you into?” he asked me, curiosity laced in his tone as he diverted the topic.

“Everything else you listen to really, I looked through most of your vinyls,” I replied, watching Noel as his eyebrows furrowed together in shock, my smile widening as I felt my cheeks start to burn slightly - I had never thought that I’d be having a genuine conversation with Noel. “Especially the Beatles, Liam’s told me how much you love them.”

Noel was impressed, and it showed on his face quite evidently. “What’s your favourite album by them then?”

Looking away for a couple seconds, I thought of a response. “Probably Sergeant Peppers. Was their most innovative stuff, in my opinion at least.”

We continued to ramble on about music for a short while, Noel continuing to act excessively shocked whenever I had told him I had indeed listened or liked an artist he questioned. It was nice to finally discuss music with somebody since Liam was never really into it. “You’d never expect me to listen to all of this because I’m friends with a lunatic.”

Another laugh left Noel’s mouth, a smile stuck on his lips. “All he’s obsessed with is football, I don’t even get how you’re both mates.”

“Opposites attract.” I answered back, leaning back to have my back against the wall as we continued to talk. My cheeks began to hurt after a while of us chatting, due to the smile that was unable to leave my lips.

“How come we’ve never spoken properly before?” He asked, walking over to flip the vinyl to side B. “You’re cool.” he added in a mumble, almost as if he didn’t want it to be heard.

I felt blood slightly rush to my cheeks after the compliment fell from his lips, my top teeth clinging onto my bottom lip as a wave of nervousness washed over me. “Maybe because you’re always out.”

A hum of agreement rumbled from his throat as my eyes fixated themselves on the white ceiling. I could see that Noel was staring at me through my peripheral, which caused my cheeks to increase their redness, only slightly. “We should hang out sometime.”

Connecting eyes with him, I admired his dark brown orbs for a second, before I responded. “We should.”

Breaking our moment together, we were welcomed by an exhausted Liam rushing into the room, breathing heavily from his jog up the stairs. Falling onto the bed, me and Noel shared a moment of laughter as we simply stared at Liam’s state. “What’re you lot laughing about?”

Me and Noel turned to look at one another, sharing a gaze once again. There was a specific glint in his eyes which I marveled at, his face beaming at me, only causing me to reciprocate in the same manner. Our stare meant more than what it was, a certain tension was held between us that was felt by both participants. Especially for Noel, whose heart was pumping as if it were about to burst out of his chest, his cheeks a little flushed out of admiration for the girl sitting next to him. “Nothing.” we replied, giggling slightly as our eyes stayed glued on one another.

#noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher #oasis #oasis band #Liam gallagher #britpop #nineties #my writing #90s #music #band imagines #fluff

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Note

imagine like riding harry and he’s choking you and mocking you bc you can barely move your hips bc it feels too good. and then you have to beg him to fuck up into you 🥵🥵

Word Count: 3,021

A/N: This was also partially inspired by another anon request I got that read :

‘one where Harry and yn doing a painting with a twist or bob ross painting together but making it a bit smutty’

Warning: SMUT!!!!!!!!! lots of smut!! Choking, dom behavior. Just nasty.

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

And don’t forget to let me know what you think! Enjoy.

CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

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Loving You Is Art

Quality time with Harry was few and far between these days. It seemed that the two of you were constantly being pulled apart in every which direction, what with him preparing for a new album release and your career finally gaining momentum. You were lucky if you were even able to sit down at the end of the day and eat a meal together without interruption. You should be used to it by now after two years of dating, but it never got any easier.

He tried his best; leaving a note for you on the kitchen counter in the morning next to a pot of coffee, sending little texts throughout the day, and calling to warn you if he’d be late. Communication was important to you and he made an effort to show it. But sometimes that wasn’t enough. You missed him.

So, you decided to surprise him. You’d planned tonight for two weeks now, making sure to get caught up on your work, calling Harry’s manager to ask him if he could please not plan too much on this particular Friday without tipping your boyfriend off, and order in all the supplies for your date night. You wanted to make it extra special so when Harry walked in the door he’d not only be surprised, but excited.

He had texted you when he left his meeting and you knew you had about fifteen minutes to get it ready. Quickly, you spread an enormous tarp across the floor of your living room, dragging in two chairs, two easels, two canvases, a large canvas sheet that you spread over the floor, and a table with paintbrushes, a cup of water, and various paints. Lastly, you stripped out of your clothes and put on only three items. A black, silk robe, a pair of black strappy heels, and Harry’s pearl necklace, twisting your hair up into a clip and letting the strands drape back down. As you poured two glasses of wine, you heard the door open and close, heavy footsteps making their way further into the home you both shared.

“Baby? What’s all this?” you heard his voice echo down the hall.

The clacking of your heels caught his attention as you made your way in, wine glasses in hand, and the confused smile on his face shifted, replaced with wide eyes and his mouth falling open.

“Hi,” you smirked, pecking at the corner of his mouth. He leaned into you as you pulled away, disappointed that you parted from him so quickly, taking the glass of wine that you offered. “Strip,” you simply said, sitting on a chair that was positioned in front of one of the easels, taking a sip of your wine.

He didn’t need any further explanation, quickly doing what he was told. You giggled under your breath at his eagerness as he kicked his shoes off and practically tore the shirt off of his torso, exposing his black ink-riddled tattoos, undressing until all that was left was his boxers. Your smirk grew, placing your wine glass on the table beside your easel and standing up. Keeping your eye contact, you lifted the end of the strap that had held your robe shut, looping it through your fingers, teasingly. His eyes darted from your face, down towards your hand, and back up again as you shifted your weight on your heels.

“All the way,” you nodded towards him, your voice low and sultry, and with one hard tug, you ripped your sash away, letting your robe come undone and flitter to the ground at your feet.

Harry froze for a moment, staring at your naked body, the way your legs looked in your heels and noting how his pearls looked against your bare chest. He gulped, speechless, unable to move until you sat back down on your chair, crossing your legs, leaning back, and pulling your glass of wine back to your lips. If you blinked, you would have missed it. His boxer briefs were halfway across the room a second later, his cock large and erect, bouncing as he hustled to his chair and sat.

He seemed to understand what was going on as you each grabbed a brush, but you explained it anyway, “Paint me,” you grinned, making him smile.

“I won’t be able to do you justice,” he looked you up and down with a smirk, looking at the color options, “Especially with only three colors.”

You giggled, dipping your brush into the black paint, “Do your best.”

You lightly began blotting and stroking the color onto the canvas, occasionally looking up at him in an attempt to get a general outline first. You weren’t a great artist, he knew this. That’s why you didn’t even bother getting a large selection of colors. Most of the artwork in your home was more modernized with a combination of abstract and contemporary, anyway. So you decided to stick with the theme and colors which were black, white, and hints of a baby blue.

You tried to focus your painting more on his torso, from his chin down to his pelvic area, just where his pubic hair began to form. You peered at him through your eyelashes and bit your bottom lip at the sight of his abs tightening and relaxing as he went to town on his canvas, widely brushing his paint onto his canvas.

“Done!” he exclaimed, throwing his brush into the cup of water.

You snapped out of your trance, your mouth opened wide in indignation, “There’s no way!”

“I am!” he declared, a confident smirk on his face, “You told me to paint you, so I did!”

“Let me see!” you demanded, gripping your paintbrush in hand, black paint beginning to drip down the handle.

Confidently, Harry picked his painting off the easel and turned it around to face you. Your eyes rolled wildly when you saw what he had done. He painted the background black, and in baby blue paint drew a childlike version of tits that looked like two u’s with dots for nipples.

“Great. Well done, you twat,” you joked, flinging the paint that was on the end of your brush in his direction which splattered on his painting, also hitting his chest and thigh.

He shrieked, staring at the paint that hand landed on him before looking up with a mischievous smile. “Oh, is that how we’re playing it? Sabotage?” he gaped, head tilted as he reached for another paintbrush, dipping it into the white.

“Harry!” you threatened, giggling, hands up in defense, “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I?” he mocked, holding his paintbrush back in ready, “Last I checked, you were the one who threw the first punch.” And he launched the paint towards you, white paint splattering across your neck, chest, and arm.

You yelped, quickly standing up in shock that he had done it. Harry cackled at the expression on your face as you slowly looked up at him, mouth ajar. Your eyes flickered to the bottles of paint that sat on the table in between you and he noticed, watching you as a light had clicked in your brain.

“No!” he warned.

But you were too quick. In a split second, you had managed to grab the bottle of black paint and began squirting it in his direction, splattering it on his torso and watching it drip down the front of him. And you laughed wildly as he grabbed the blue and white paint bottles, pointing and squeezing them in your direction as the two of you circled each other, using your easels as fruitless efforts in attempting to shield yourselves.

Paint was everywhere. Your bodies were the canvas now, dollops of blue and white running down the arch of your back and the curves of your breasts, down past your bellybutton, dripping onto your feet. When you attempted to swipe the hair our of your face, you inadvertently left a smear of black paint on your cheek and forehead, making Harry laugh.

Black paint had managed to drip in the creases of his newly defined abs that he had been working so hard on these past few months, his hands having smeared most of the paint on his chest which somehow made him look even more toned. You laughed, tossing your empty paint bottle to the side as harry stepped closer, grinning, and dumping the last of the white and blue paint on your chest, his pearl necklace now smeared in color and barely recognizable.

He booped you on the nose with his index finger, leaving a trace of blue on the tip of your nose as he pressed his body closer to yours, making the black paint on his torso mix with the blue and white on yours and whispering, “You look a little wet.”

“You have no idea,” you held your breath, tingling wildly throughout your body like you always did when the sexual tension began to build.

His lips twitched, his face was so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath starting to dry the paint that smeared on your face, legs starting to feel weak. His mouth hovered over yours, lips grazing, taunting, until finally he pressed his against yours, hungrily pulling you closer to him, both of your hands roaming each other’s bodies. No grip was tight enough to pull your bodies closer together.

The two of you slowly began to guide each other to the ground where you stood, on top of the fabric canvas that you had set aside to attempt to do some sort of line art of the two of you. That idea was ruined as it had now been splattered in paint and riddled with black, blue, and white footprints. He laid you down on your back, situating himself in between your legs that straddle his hips, pressing his hands on the canvas beside your head while your fingers ran through his hair, leaving streaks of paint in his browl, curly locks.

He pulled away to give you another look, smirking at the mess of color on your body and tracing a heart around your naval before he bent back down, crashing his lis on yours again. Normally, as a part of your foreplay routine, you’d share turns going down on each other, tasting each other’s juices and letting Harry play in your pussy for a bit, but with the paint, that wasn’t an option. Luckily, the need for foreplay wasn’t necessary. The past twenty minutes of teasing was enough to get you ready and his tip prodded at your cunt for a minute before slipping right in, warm and wet, just like he liked it.

You gasped at the abruptness, arching your back as he started to pump, clasping your legs tighter around his waist, “Fuck, Harry,” you managed.

Your little moans of delight always reassured him, gaining more confidence as he pumped harder into you, “Ya like that, do ya?” he ran his hand down your breast and to your hip, pulling himself back slightly and pulling you up higher so that your butt was off the ground and he could see your tits bouncing as he railed you, “Let me hear it, y/n. Let me hear how much ya like it.”

His thirst for you always got you heated for more and your voice got louder for him, screaming out his name, “God, your cock is so fucking big, Harry! Fuck! That feels so good!”

“You’re so wet,” he grunted, gritting his teeth and going faster now. His force began to lessen and you could tell he was starting to get tired, so you pushed him out of you and sat up, seeing the mess that was being made on the canvas below you.

“Lay down,” you demanded, moving aside.

He licked his lips, panting, and laying back down on the canvas like he was told before you straddled his hips once more, lowering yourself onto him. His hands naturally went to your heps, but you grabbed them, pinning them above his head which always drove him crazy. He let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut and mouth agape as you bounced your ass onto him, his cock rock-hard inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you heard him whisper under his breath before he forced his head up to see your breasts bouncing in his face, desperate to take one into his mouth and flick his tongue over your paint-riddled nipples.

“You like that tight pussy?” you breathes into his mouth, biting his lip before pulling away and placing your palms on his chest, using him as leverage to ride his cock, bouncing on him faster.

With his hands now free from your grasp, he snaked them up your body, giving your tits a quick squeeze, before firmly wrapping around your neck. Your body tensed for a moment. He smirked, knowing what he was doing. Choking was your kink. Not too tight where you couldn’t breathe, but firm enough on the sides of your throat where you could feel your pulse more clearly underneath his grip. You let out a loud moan, attempting to ride him harder, but your pace slowed, hips barely able to move. You were close. Too close.

Your body shook, trying to force your thighs to do their job and move, but they wouldn’t budge. Harry sniggered, “Gonna cum, are ye? My cock too much for you to handle?”

His hands loosened their grip around your neck, and you cried out, “No, don’t!” Grabbing his hand and forcing it back to your neck. Out of breath and shaking from pure pleasure, you kept trying to go faster, but you only slowed down.

He raised an eyebrow, taunting you, “Need me to fuck you?” he snickered, earning a pleading nod from you. His hand lingered around your throat, running his thumb on your jaw and he smirked, “How bad do you want it?”

You glowered down at him, attempted to readjust, trying to see if there was another position that could get you the right amount of momentum, but your efforts were futile. With every movement you made, a small gasp escaped your lips. You were teetering on the edge of climax, unable to move, and it was agony.

“Harry, fuck me!” You begged, forcing your own hands around his throat, “Please, fuck me!”

His eyes grew more ravenous, jaw clenching and clutching the pearls that hung around your neck, tightening his grip on them so that they began to squeeze at your throat. Your begging was all it took. He forced his cock up into you so fast and so hard that you were practically being lifted up off the ground. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in rapture, sounds you didn’t even know you could make being forced from your mouth.

His mouth puckered, eyes wandering from your head that flew back in pleasure, to your breasts, covered in paint and smeared to look more gray with specs of blue dotting down to your belly button. Your moans started to become shorter and more loud, body tensing and a chill running down your spine, “Just like that, babe! Keep going. Right there!” You panted until you let out one long, loud scream.

Your screams sent him over the edge, letting gown of the pearls around your neck and gripping on your hips harder, pulling you down onto him as he pushed up into you. His grunts getting faster and his lower jaw jutting out. “You’re so-fucking-sexy!” he grumbled in between thrusts before his final, deep, long thrust into you, pulling you tight onto his cock as he came inside of you, letting out a low, deep moan.

You collapsed onto him, the rising and falling of his chest matching your breathing, leaying their for a moment before you rolled off of him, both of you sprawled onto the tarp that covered the floor, naked and covered in paint. The two of you laid there for a moment until you started to feel the paint beginning to dry on your leg, and before you could say anything, he turned his head to face you.

Sweat beaded his forehead and he was finally beginning to catch his breath when he smiled at you, dimples evident in his cheeks, “You’re amazing.”

You grinned, forcing yourself up and attempting to hide the shakiness of your legs, “I know.”

The two of you helped shower each other off and clean up your mess as much as possible. Both canvases that were on the easels were trashed and you had to wipe the paint splatters off of the wooden chairs and tables, but for the most part, the tarp had done a good job at making sure paint hadn’t gotten on the floor. There was only one little spot of blue stain that gotten onto the molding of the wall from when Harry flicked paint at you, but it was barely noticable if you weren’t looking for it.

As for the fabric of canvas, at first they were going to get rid of it. But, the more they looked at it, the more they fell in love with it. It was very abstract, black, white, and blue smeared all over, parts of it mixing into grey. If you looked hard enough, you could see the streaks from their handprints and the blue and white circles where your knees and feet had been when you rode him. You decided to attach it to stretcher bars and have it framed, putting it above the sitting room fireplace.

Harry loved having this huge canvas of art on display; knowing how it was made and how prominently it was displayed for everyone who came over to see turned into a little kink of his. Whenever someone commented on how cool it looked, the two of you would always share a look and smirk, and when you had a split second of privacy, he’d kiss you with such intensity that reminded you of that night.

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Taglist:

@odetostep

#Harry styles #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction smut

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pwarkluv · 3 years

Text

❝ what is love? - l.mk ❞

lee mark x reader | fluff | 2k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, idol au, love at first sight au, 6thmemberofitzy!reader, shy!mark and shy!reader, fluff bc that’s what i’m best at LOL, another request :), just enjoy <3

REQUEST | “hii i read ur electric love fic w jisung and i really loved it :DD could you do the same for mark ? still as the 6th member of itzy ofc :D” - my lovely anon <3

SUMMARY | he wonders what is love, but finds the answer in you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “what is love” by twice (english lyrics by genius translations)! ANOTHER REQUEST HDSFKLDSJHF IM SO SO SO SO EXCITED! i wanted to change up the setting so it’s still 6th member itzy, but not in weekly idol :P ALSO this was inspired by when nct dream, itzy, and stray kids sat next to each each other in that one award show so yeah lolol. IM SO SORRY I LOST THE MESSAGE WHERE MY ANON ASKED FOR IT BUT I STILL WROTE IT FOR YOU! I LOVE YOU, THANK YOU, NEVER BE SHY TO DM ME ;)

what is love?

mark knew the general idea of it; the sappy moments movies show, the “butterflies in your stomach” feeling books portray, the pain and hardships songs make you feel.

but he’s never been in love, at least not like this.

❝ how could it be as sweet as candy? ❞

training at such a young age molded mark into the perfect idol, and with that he was fully aware dating would look bad to the public. he accepted the fact that he might never find love, all to help achieve his dream.

but as cheesy as it sounds, the canadian wished to be loved.

yes he was loved by his members, his family, his friends, his fans; but the type of love he longed for was something none of them could give him.

mark wanted to feel the sweetness of being in love, the giddiness you’d feel whenever you talk to them, the pounding of your heart whenever they’re near. he wanted to experience the overwhelming need to be with that person, like if they’re gone for too long it’s like you can’t breathe.

was being in love like making a song for the very first time? or was it like eating watermelon all the time?

so many questions with no answers, the boy left to wander in his own thoughts.

❝ how it’s like flying in the sky? ❞

he smiled bittersweetly as the newly wed couple danced around in confetti, the sound of laughter and cheers resonating around the room. one of nct’s managers that had been with them since the beginning invited them to her wedding, to which the team obviously accepted.

all 23 of them were happy for their noona who found her happy ending. mark could only watch in awe at the sight of the two lovebirds, the love and adoration for the other evident in the way they looked at each other.

his heart tugged a bit knowing he wanted something like that too.

“being in love is like flying in the sky.” his manager explained to the boy as a makeup artist experimentally brushed strokes on her face. it was a couple hours before the ceremony when mark knocked on her hotel door, wanting to visit his favorite noona before she finally said ‘i do’.

his question left his mouth before mark could fully register what he was about to say, the poor boy flushing a bit as the woman laughed at him.

“are you in love mark? is that why you’re asking me how i knew i was in love?” she teased as mark stutterd, denying her accusation.

“n-no i swear!” he said as his manager continued laughing, the makeup artist having to pause a bit to let her get it all out. “i’m just curious.” mark said quietly trying to stop the heat from rushing up to his cheeks.

“well being in love is a magical feeling.” the woman said, turning a bit serious. mark sat up straight as he listened intently. “when you realize you love someone, it can be a scary thing. love isn’t perfect mark, and i want you to know that. there are moments where you want to scream and rip your hair out, or cry to let it all out.”

the boy nodded in understanding, having a bit of knowledge from all the good breakup songs taylor swift writes about.

“but it can also change your whole world.” she continued on. “it’s like seeing the world again for the very first time and the colors are more vibrant. it’s like having a permanent reason to be happy, and a reason to stay.” she explained as the mark sat quietly trying to comprehend it all.

❝ i wanna know know know know, what is love? ❞

the poor boy’s head couldn’t wrap around the thought of you.

his heart hammered in his chest as he secretly glanced at you, desperately trying to avoid suspicion from fans and his members. you were just too breathtaking, having the canadian looking back for more.

the moment he first laid eyes on you, it was like an epiphany. you were the answer to all his questions.

so this is what it feels like, mark thinks to himself as he looks back on all the things he’s heard about love.

the butterflies, the pounding of your heart, the “seeing the world in a whole new perspective”, mark felt everything and as much as he felt excited, he was scared.

as harmless as it sounds, award shows were a risky thing for idols. being surrounded by fans of different groups as well as said groups themselves always seemed to cause a bit of a stir between fans.

between dating rumors and rumors about beef between two idols, anything could happen.

but usually mark would be okay. he’s been doing this for a long time and knew how to behave.

however what he didn’t expect was to see you, the tiny rookie idol from the newly debuted girl group ‘itzy’.

nct 127’s table was right next to yours which let mark have a clear view of your pretty eye smile as you laughed at something lia had whispered into your ear. your laugh was bubbly and contagious, the boy having to physically stop himself from wanting to laugh too.

he was panicking, but mark couldn’t tell if it was in a good or bad way.

❝ what does love feel like? ❞

your breath hitched as you saw the boy sneak glances at you from the corner of your eye.

the mark lee was looking at you, your heart racing as you tried to deny the fact that he was staring you down. there was no way the dude you’ve looked up to your entire trainee life is noticing you, no way at all.

everyone has heard of mark lee even if you weren’t into kpop. he was just that iconic.

you’ve been an nctzen since the very beginning, being there for nct u’s debut stage. in fact, nct was the very reason you decided to audition to become an idol in the first place. you looked up to the team but more importantly you looked up to a certain canadian in the group.

originally doyoung was your bias in nct when nct u first came out. but as the years passed by you found yourself more and more intrigued by mark, having him absolutely wreck your bias list.

since then you’ve been a loyal mark stan, even rapping his part in cherry bomb for your audition tape which ultimately led you to become an idol yourself.

you refused to believe you were in love with the dude, not knowing a single thing about him. there was no way you could love him, not if you’ve never even met the boy.

but your heart seemed to prove you wrong as it beat wildly knowing mark was sitting right there on the table next to you.

“you okay bubs?” lia asked in a worried tone, leaning in to whisper into your ear. she saw the way your leg bounced in a fast rhythm, knowing you only did that when you were nervous.

you forced a smile as you hesitantly looked her way, knowing that she could take one look into your eyes and know you were lying. “i'm fine unnie, don’t worry about me.” you replied as sweetly as you could, wishing the elder wouldn’t notice a thing.

though you two and yeji were the eldest in the group, all being born in the year 2000, you were the baby of the unnie line. lia and yeji knew you the best, having grown up with you after all.

the girl only gave you a look before taking your hand in hers to give a soft squeeze. “i know you’re lying but i won’t push you. also mark lee from nct 127 is totally checking you out.” lia said, whispering a bit on the last part. she winked as you flushed, looking away in horror.

johnny nudged the boy next to him with a small smirk, clearly seeing the heart eyes he was giving the girl in the table next to them. mark jumped a bit at the feeling, looking at his hyung with confusion.

“so y/n of itzy?” johnny said with a small smile as the younger immediately sat up straight.

“is it that obvious?” mark whispered back with a hint of fear in his eyes.

if any of the fans were to get a hold of this… the boy could only shiver at the thought.

johnny’s playful smile dropped a bit at mark’s worried look knowing how he must feel. they were idols after all.

“don’t worry, i only noticed because she was looking back at you too.” he said, mark flushing at the revelation.

“really?” he asked a little out of it.

“i say talk to her after this?” the elder said, laughing a bit when mark jumped in his seat, immediately saying no.

❝ will love come to me someday? ❞

“unnie why are you making me stay in the dressing room~” you whined as the end of the award show came along.

you just wanted to go home, your body worn out. not from all the dancing but from the way it viciously pounded in your chest whenever you ever thought about mark.

lia only smirked in retaliation as she brought a hand up to squish your cheeks. “trust me, you’ll thank me later.” she said as she walked out of the dressing room, bumping into a 6 foot tall boy with a smaller boy behind him.

“oops sorry.” she said a little playfully, as lia gave a wink to johnny knowing their plan was going accordingly. johnny only gave her a small smile, but if you looked closely you could see the mischief in his eyes.

“hyung where are we going?” mark asked, a little weirded out by the two’s interaction. johnny only ignored the boy, dragging him by his arm as they walked down the hallway.

“hyung i swear if this is a prank i’ll-” mark’s words were cut off as the two entered a door, only to see your confused face staring back at him.

“oh shit.” he cursed under his breath, a little taken aback from how beautiful you were. one whole award show later and you were still as gorgeous as when he first saw you sitting down in the table next to his.

your confused face quickly turned to an embarrassed one as you noticed the boy, turning another shade of red when you noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“hi y/n, my name is johnny and this is my band mate mark.” the taller boy said, holding his hand out in a handshake.

“h-hi i’m y/n.” you stuttered, not expecting to see the boy you’ve been daydreaming about for the past two hours to be right in front of you.

mark gawked at the sight of you, his mind malfunctioning as the words seemed to get stuck at the tip of his tongue.

“markie right here has something he wants to ask you.” johnny said, pushing the younger in front of him with a grunt.

this seemed to knock him right out of his trance, a hand coming up to the back of his neck as he stared down at the floor with pink cheeks.

“do you maybe wanna-”

“yes.” you blurted out, a hand covering your mouth in shock. “i-if you were gonna ask if i wanted to hang out sometime, the answer is yes.” you said a little shyly as the boy smiled.

all this time mark thought he was gonna find love, but maybe love found him instead.

“i’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow evening.” mark said with a sweet smile as he took a step back only to be pushed back up again by johnny.

“you don’t even have her number you dumbass.” the elder scolded, disappointed at how dumb the boy was.

your laughter caught both of the boy’s attention as you put your hand out with a small smile. “you want my number or nah?”

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em-neko · 3 years

Text

FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM (KBTBB HEADCANON)

how i think mc would’ve met + fallen in love with the bidders if she hadn’t been put up for auction.

oh and i added a song to go along with each scenario, enjoy!

a/n: the auctions don’t exist in this universe, so the bidders don’t know each other (assuming soryu, eisuke and luke didn’t stay in contact after high school). however, shuichi and hikaru are friends.

EISUKE

when mc worked at the tres spade, they’d often run into each other

she’d always catch his eye, but he wasn’t sure why

she was just like any other maid, after all

but to him, she seemed different somehow

one day, his curiosity got the best of him and he promoted her to the penthouse

at first, she was really shy and wouldn’t even look him in the eye

he’d try chatting her up (in his own way)

but she wouldn’t open up (understandably)

so one day, he asked her to make him coffee

their first conversation was about how eisuke liked his coffee

somehow, he managed to make her laugh

and slowly, she began warming up to him

since then, whenever she’d go up to the penthouse to clean, they’d end up just talking the entire time

mc got in trouble for it (and by trouble i mean, erika and tweedledee and tweedledum bullied her about it) but eisuke always defended her

if eisuke was too busy in his office to talk to her, he’d leave her a small present on the coffee table for her to find

things like jewelry, clothes, beauty products and sweets

in exchange, mc left notes and doodles for eisuke to find

once she even left a short comic that she’d written and illustrated for him to read

he saved them all

soon, their relationship turned flirty

eisuke would tease her constantly

sometimes, he’d jokingly pin mc down on the couch

or he’d give her little surprise kisses while she’d be cleaning

mc would always blush and get super flustered

in typical eisuke fashion, he’d play it off as a joke

but it was obvious he really liked her

soon, eisuke offered her to move into the penthouse

he blamed it on boredom and pulled them “it’s for work” card, but mc saw right through it

and she agreed

SORYU

i genuinely don’t think they would’ve ever met if it weren’t for the auctions

however, i could see them potentially meeting in a bookstore

it was that cliche, looking over the shelf, eyes meeting type of thing

soryu didn’t pay any mind to her at first, but he’d remember her face

he found himself thinking about her a lot

she was scared of him at first, but she found him really attractive

so they’d both go to the bookstore every few days, hoping they run into one another

they wouldn’t speak to each other though

but that doesn’t mean the staff of the bookstore didn’t take notice of their occasional glances

they were kinda suspicious because mc and soryu would always be in the store at the same time

so one day, after closing, the staff reorganized the shelves so that the romance section (mc’s favorite section) would be right besides the crime novel section (soryu’s favorite section)

hoping they’d talk to each other

and it worked!

when mc and soryu returned to the bookstore the next day, they realized that things had been move around

and found themselves shoulder to shoulder

mc eventually gathered up the courage to ask him what he was reading

and he offered to buy her a book he liked

in exchange, she bought him a book she liked

every few days, they’d purchase books for each other, and talk about the last books

mc began to leave notes in soryu’s books

and he left notes in hers too

notes turned to letters

and soon, a phone number was left on the bottom of one of the letters

OTA

they met at a museum

ota was there to look for inspiration

while mc was just wardering around on her lunch break

ota caught mc’s eye immediately, he’s the angelic artist after all

but she didn’t want to bother him, nor did she have the courage to talk to him in the first place

so she just pretended like she didn’t see him

when the paparazzi and ota’s fangirls catch wind that he’s at the museum, they all swarmed the place

ota frantically tried to find a place for hide

and luckily for him, mc found a way to sneak into the security guard’s office

she ushered him in and told him to hide under the desk

while waiting for the chaos to cool down, they joked around and laughed together

ota told mc she looked like his old dog and called her koro as a joke

she rolled her eyes, before bursting out laughing

he started treating her like a dog (asking her to sit, give paw, jump etc.) and she played along

they both laughed together hysterically at the end

when the chaos cooled down, ota left his hiding spot

but, not before asking her if he can “take her on a walk sometime”

she’d bark happily

i made mc a whiling participant to ota’s shenanigans because a big reason why i didn’t like ota’s main story was because i felt so bad for mc

MITSUNARI

they met after baba had stolen a painting at an gallery, owned by a child predator

ayame was chasing him down the street

with no where to go, baba ran into a random building

(that happened to be mc’s apartment complexe)

he entered a random apartment on the second floor

(which also happened to be mc’s apartment)

and hid inside her bathtub

when mc got home and found him inside her bathtub, she freaked out (obviously)

she yelled at him and beat him with a broomstick

somehow baba managed to talk her out of calling the cops by explaining the situation to her

after she calmed down, they drank some tea together and chit chatted

mostly about their jobs

baba teased her a lot about being a maid, while she simply blushed, too shy to tease back

but she couldn’t hide the fact that she found good looking

minutes turned to hours

and the next morning, mc woke up in her own bed

turns out, baba had carried her to her bedroom after she’d fallen asleep while they were talking

and sat at the foot of her bed until the crack of dawn

just to make sure she didn’t have any nightmares after the scare he gave her

to thank her for “the unforgettable night” she gave him, he left her a note with his phone number on it

and at the bottom, it was written to call him if she ever needed help

and he’d be there

mc didn’t think she’d ever use it, after all she wasn’t stupid, she knew a womanizer when she saw one

but when she got invited to a party a few days later, she realized that she needed a date

and who better was to call than the flirty thief she’d just met?

MAMORU

they met on the bus

mc was on her way to meet a friend

while she was sitting on the bus, reading her book, mamoru came stumbling in

mc noted that he looked sleepy

when he came towards her, she made sure to move her back out of the way so he could sit down

mere seconds after the bus began moving again, mamoru fell asleep

on mc’s shoulder

mc didn’t want to wake him up and ask him to move because he seemed so exhausted

so she let him sleep on her

she didn’t mind too much, besides she was only getting off at the last stop

and she thought he was pretty cute, but she’d never admit that

but then, the last stop came

and mamoru was still sleeping on her shoulder

mc wondered if he’d missed his stop or if he was getting off on the last stop too

she gently nudged him, calling out to him to wake up

when he woke up, he realized he’d missed his stop and started freaking out

he blamed mc for not waking him up at his stop

mc retorted that she didn’t know which stop was his

and they walked off the bus bickering

they continued arguing on the street too

until mamoru realized how stupid he sounded and somewhat apologized

mc was understandably annoyed that this man had wasted her time and stomped away

but before she could get far enough away from him, he called out to her

he asked her if he could apologize to her with some dinner

he expected her to say no

but instead, she told him she’d only go if he took her to the best ramen place in town

and he agreed

LUKE

like soryu, i can’t imagine them ever meeting if it wasn’t for mc being sold at the auctions

however, there is a possibility that they’d run into each other at the hotel

mc had just gotten transferred to the tres spade dubai

and luke had a meeting there with potential patient

while luke waited for the patient in the lobby, all of the female staff members were checking him out

of course, he is very handsome after all

mc didn’t pay too much mind, she admitted he was good looking, but this was the tres spade

handsome men came through those doors every day

so she simply walked by and continued her work

and luke and his patient eventually went to his suite

a few hours later, mc was asked to bring some refreshments to room 145

turns out, it was luke’s patient’s suite

she smiled politely at luke and his patient and placed the bottles of whiskey on the table in front of them

eyes wide like he was in a trance, he reached his fingertips towards her chest

panicked, mc was about to push his hands away and apologize, thinking he was reaching for her breast

but he wasn’t

instead, he began caressing her collarbones, while praising their beauty

mc and the patient stared at each other with big eyes, confused as to what to do

“uh.. dr foster, are you okay?”

mc was beginning to get flustered at how close luke was

so she gently placed her hands on his and pushed them off of her

she apologized and told him she had to go, and to call the front desk if he needed anything else

but before she could leave, luke called out to her

he asked her if she’d come to his clinic sometimes

he wanted to get x-ray’s of her collarbones

and as weirded out as mc was, she agreed

SHUICHI

they met while shuichi was staying at the tres spade japan on a business trip

mc had just finished cleaning the third floor

so she stepped on the elevator to make her way to the twentieth floor, where she’d end her shift

shuichi was already inside

she bowed to him, greeting him politely

he simply nodded his head

after pressing her floor button, she stepped back and stood besides shuichi

they rode in silence

until the elevator suddenly came to a harsh stop

mc began freaking out

and shuichi got frustrated

he tried mc calming down in his own way

she got pissed at him

but hey, at least she wasn’t panicking anymore

shuichi clicked the help button and they waited

and waited

after a while, while they sat on the floor, mc apologized to shuichi for the inconvenience

he assured her that it wasn’t her fault

after a brief moment of silence, she asked him why he was staying at the tres spade

and they began talking about work

soon, the conversation turned political

mc was a unsure because of how stiff shuichi was

she thought he was annoyed at her

but he wasn’t

in fact, shuichi was impressed by how educated mc was on the subject

and he loved how casually she spoke about it too

once help finally arrived, he couldn’t help but feel sad that the conversation had to come to an end

he genuinely loved talking to her

she was laid back, but intelligent, a combination he found very attractive

so he asked her she’d be his date that night to his business dinner

and she said yes

HIKARU

they met at work, of course

hikaru was always super friendly towards mc

he’d always help her when he had free time

sometimes he’d buy her food at the cafeteria

or bring her coffee from the local coffee shop

soon, mc began developing a little crush on him

at least, that was until he lured her to into a secluded area at the hotel and threatened her with a knife

turns out, he was going after the wrong person

his target’s wife coincidentally had the same first and last name as mc

hence why hikaru confused them

he apologized

but now that she knew who he really was, he couldn’t just let her go

so he told the manager that they were dating and he wanted mc to move in with him

unfortunately for mc, the manager said yes

and they moved in together

at first, mc was (understandably) afraid of hikaru

but soon, she warmed up to him

in fact, she actually began liking his sassy attitude better than his good guy persona

and there was no denying he was into her too

they played house together

they cooked together, cleaned together, watched shows together, built ikea furniture together

hell, they even argued about which type of cheese to buy at the grocery store

when hikaru had nightmares, they’d cuddle and mc would listen to him talk about his demons all night

hikaru was terrified she’d leave him one day

but she never did

RHION

they met at an antique store

rhion was looking for a new unique trinket to add to his collection

while mc was simply aimlessly wandering around the shop

when their eyes suddenly met

it was love at first sight

however, they were both too shy to come up to each other

so they just creeped on each other until the store closed

when it was time to go home, rhion instantly regretted not talking to her

he was upset, there was his chance to not be alone anymore, yet he blew it

he felt like a coward

but the next day, rhion got a knock at the door

and it was mc!

turns out, he had dropped his id while paying for his things at the antique store

and mc was there to return it

he told her that he’d “found his alice”

and invited her in for some tea

they talked until the early hours of the morning

she spent the night

then the week

then the month

and that’s when rhion realized, she wasn’t leaving

and he didn’t complain one bit

#kbtbb headcanon #kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder #love 365 #love 365: find your story #voltage inc #voltage games #voltage headcanon #otome game #nina’s headcanons

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