#enjoy this messy sketch angst lovers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starlighthan · 2 years ago

Text

PAINTING FAITH

read the revised and extended version here!

pairing: non-idol!seungmin and fem!reader

featuring: several skz members, an oc

genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, rival gang au, forbidden lovers au, lowkey sunshine x grumpy au (an au in chloe gong’s these violent delights)

warnings: spoilers from the actual book, a curse word, mentions of death and murder, weapons, government problems haha, sensitive content (killing, blood, character death)

word count: 6.5k words

synopsis: in the middle of a secret mission of the heirs of two of the biggest gangs in makan, the solano and leyva gangs, you stumbled upon your secret lover in a ball arranged by the makan president’s family, the figueroas. you spent the night with him until tragedies ascend.

mini-playlist: monster - paramore | warning! - day6 | lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer | far too young to die - panic! at the disco | immortal - marina

tag list: @plutominho @hwangsify

note: hi :DD it’s been a few months! i’m a little rusty so bear with me with this fic, i think it’s a little messy </3 here’s a fic heavily inspired by a book that i enjoyed! please do note that a lot of parts here are based on the book, and there are original stuff from me as well! there were changes from the similarities such as city/country names, family names, etc. heh this is not-so-proofread too btw since i want to post this right away lol i hope you guys enjoy this one! i hope this won’t flop bc i really like this one a lot rip ig jk

Glittering chandeliers above you, you prance around the expansive function room. In all honesty, you thought that it was a gorgeous venue. But you weren’t surprised at how glorious the room is because it is a property of the family you somehow loathed, the Figueroa family.

You fear that Caasi would change even more, especially after the growing madness around the past month — that monster. The horror took the lives of the innocent and some Leyva members by ripping their throats without their gut feeling.

After pocketing a sketch of the creature in the office of a government official that half of the country admires, Ereden Carlos, you have no idea when you will see such a creature like that. Minho, a cousin of yours (and the secondary heir) under the Leyvas, reported that a Leyva member saw the beast with their own eyes on a random night — you were frightened at how powerful that creature could be. It could be more powerful than you, the Leyva gang, or Leyva and Solano gangs combined.

“You don’t have a mask with you? We’re in a masquerade ball,” you hear your father mumble, taking the view with you on your seats while taking a slurp of the pasta in front of him.

You roll your eyes. It wasn’t a requirement if the Figueroa family wanted your presence and not your masks to hide your identities. “You don’t have a mask as well, am I correct? If you don’t have one in your pockets, then I don’t have any with me too, Father.”

Without any surprise coming from Lord Leyva, he shrugs and continues chatting with the strangers at the same table as you.

You truly treated them as strangers despite the familiarity tied between them and the Leyva gang. Of course, it was the Figueroa family.

Despite categorizing the financial capabilities of your gang as nearly the same as that family, you despise the carelessness they attain within themselves. This is why Caasi is holding on to the Leyva and Solano gang to keep the country alive. At this point, they were begging to have the two gangs lead Makan, but unfortunately, none of you have the highest power to do that, even if you have the strongest connections to those up there.

You never followed the conversation between the family and your father. After all, you were there as support — unnecessary support — for your father. Aimlessly looking around and enjoying the food was all you did in your seat, and you didn’t want to ask for more.

“How about you, Miss _____? How are you doing?”

You stopped twirling the noodles around your fork, slowly raising your head to where the voice that ruined your mood came from within your table. Oh. It was just some random Figueroa family member that you didn’t damn care about.

Your eyebrows furrowed, answering bluntly, “It’s none of your business.” You lowered your head by an inch, glancing at your plate, and returned to take a bite. “Weren’t you talking to my father the whole time? I thank you that you didn’t acknowledge my presence until this point.”

It wasn’t shocking that the Figueroa family was taking your statement seriously. Although you also expected that they’d brush it off in a little while, it seemed like they were still in a state of confusion on whether that was sarcastic or genuine.

You, on the other side, behaved like whatever you said was nothing. Indeed, it was nothing to you. Why would you bother with a bunch of corrupted capitalists?

Before one of the Figueroas opened their mouth to speak, Lord Leyva ended the conversation with a peaceful greeting and dragged you out of your seat to the nearest corner of the function room.

“_____.” Your father sighs, rubbing his temples to control his temper that erupted randomly. “You shouldn’t have said that! You know they have the capability of exiling you or killing you.”

You snorted and shook your head in disbelief. “Father, you probably forgot that we also have the power to do that, right?”

“Yes, we do, but right now, we can’t—”

Lord Leyva wasn’t able to finish his sentence. “All of a sudden, we can’t? Why are you underestimating the Leyvas all of a sudden? If only there weren’t that many people right now, I could’ve brought out my gun and killed them with my own hands.”

Why was he siding with the more significant problem this time? Besides the madness occurring in the past few weeks, Makan has been at its lowest because of the Figueroas. You have seen Makan, specifically your city, Caasi, lose its colors to the grimy black — the people were suffering, the city’s polluted, and the feel of Caasi was no longer what you felt when you were a child. Unfortunately, being in a gang like the Leyvas exposed you to the monochromes of the world. The worst imperfections stood out more, and blood and dirt were more evident everywhere. All of the colors were indeed lost, and it was because you are a Leyva.

Even the ability to kill without remorse made you question your existence. What if you weren’t a part of the Leyva clan?

Without hesitation, you walked past your father straight to the balcony. What if you really weren’t a part of the Leyva clan?

You leaned on the arc, right below the arch ring. That question brought some memories to the back of your mind flawlessly.

“Wouldn’t it be great if we grow old like this?”

“Like what? Hanging out by the pier all day?”

You nodded with all of your might. “Away from all of the things our families have been doing. Away from what could happen to both of us.”

Seungmin, curious enough, scoots more to your side. “What do you think will happen to you and me?”

You heard numerous times how your father and your relatives come home scarred, wounded, or worse, weakened by losing a lot of blood from missions and fights outside the home. You were expecting that you and Seungmin would go through the same thing.

Worse, the rivalry between your clans could progress, distancing you, feeling helpless. You’ll have nothing to do but fight each other and go home on your own bloody and vulnerable because of the feelings you had for each other before all of the commotions you had to deal with just for the sake of being a part of a gang.

“Losing you, each other, and our life.”

Seungmin hums, lightly placing his arm around you and holding you tight, “You’re not going to lose me or each other — even our lives. We’ll be fine, _____. Let’s appreciate that we could still do this despite the rivalry between our families.”

“That’s because we’re still kids, Seungmin. Once we become older, all of this wouldn’t be fine,” you anxiously said. Both of you are still clueless about the ins and outs of this world and the role of being a notorious gang member. Your destiny is like this: you’ll be innocent and gullible about everything, learn the truths of reality, then your mind and heart will change.

Hopefully, your mind and heart wouldn’t change. You hope that your thoughts and feelings for Seungmin will never fade.

“There’ll always be a way for every problem. We’ll get through this together,” Seungmin rubs your arm and softly pulls your head to his chest, holding you slightly tighter than before.

If you weren’t a Leyva, maybe you immediately got your happily ever after. Perhaps you don’t have to go abroad to study and guiltily leave Seungmin.

Too late.

“Good evening to you, Miss Leyva.”

Someone interrupted your thread of thoughts. Looking beside you, you see Jisung Isidro with a glass of wine. A fucking Isidro again? When can I get out of this room full of attention-seekers?

This guy visited you a week ago to ask for your hand of approval in the Isidro-Leyva partnership for a particular project. Knowing that his father was persistent about the same thing to you a week before Jisung’s visit, you kicked him out of your home and repeatedly said no to his offer.

Without listening to his blabbering mouth, the word ‘attention’ was etched on his face, indicating that all he wanted was clout and your mere consideration for his existence.

Unfortunately, Jisung was expecting you tonight since he sent a letter a few days ago that he was looking forward to meeting you again at the masquerade ball.

With no introductory greetings, you go straightforward with what you want to say. “I said no to the partnership, Jisung. Can you stop pushing me if I said no multiple times already? Is the word with only two letters, no, unclear to you?”

All Jisung did was giggle at you, which struck a nerve within you. He fixed his coat and went right in front of you, standing at the center of the arc. “Oh, don’t worry, _____! I understood that. I decided not to pester you or your family about that.”

Smiling wide with blank eyes, you impatiently ask, “Then, why are you here?”

Gasping, Jisung wonderfully clasps his hands together. You immediately know there’s something wrong behind those eyes. He’s going to bother you about another random thing again.

“I would like to go after your heart there, pretty girl,” Jisung shortly points to your chest, “your affection, you know? Heh, if you don’t mind—”

So, he just finds you pretty?

Cross him out right away. You have no time for a guy who’s chasing a woman for her beauty.

Being a big name in Caasi, you received compliments for looking similar to your ethereal mother. You admit that your mother is one of a kind, but you were always annoyed over how being beautiful is the only compliment you receive. Was it because you exude a ruthless vibe? With your dominating voice and outspoken mind, people find you intimidating aside from the fact that you are pretty.

You have no time for a man like him. You are here, an heir of the Leyva gang, trying to save Makan from a hideous monster that has infiltrated the streets and houses of Caasi. And you have someone else, someone who you think is better than him on so many levels.

“No need to chase for my love and affection, Jisung,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders to show your lack of interest in his new pursuit. “I have a lot on my hands, and finding a significant other is not a part of my bucket list at the moment.”

You achieved it for a while now without anybody’s notice.

The bubbly, weird guy was planning to change your mind until you two heard somebody clearing their throat.

You glance at the masked man near you. “May I have a word, Miss _____?”

Shit, you know that voice. Seungmin?

You forgot that he planned to snatch the drawing you pocketed. You returned to your home with Seungmin following you silently on the trip for the sake of protection. He saw you get into Carlos’ office and go home with a tight grip on your coat. With that minor detail, he knew something was up.

When he pretended to visit you so he could get that mysterious paper in your inner pocket, he failed to steal it but brought home the invitation to this masquerade ball. Both of you were still sneaky with each other, making you laugh over how much Seungmin failed with his attempt to get the sketch without your permission.

You look back at Jisung, waiting for his final words.

With much annoyance, you furrowed your eyebrows and glared at him before waiting for his greetings. You quickly decided not to waste time and let him leave with your own hands. “So?”

Jisung bowed and sighed with disappointment evident on his face. You guessed he was desperate for your attention for real. You’d never thought that he was attracted to you anyway. “I’ll get going then, Miss Leyva. Thank you for the quick chit-chat.”

While waiting for his exit, you glance at the view outside the arc. The grass was glimmering after a light rainshower before the ball started. Trees and buildings surrounded the small field, making the gazebo look enchanted. You’d not dare to take a short walk to the gazebo — you might go home, Lady Leyva pissed off at how soiled your gown and heels were from the wet dirt of the grass field.

“How beautiful,” you finally hear Seungmin.

You agree. This was the type of view you wanted from your room. You were so used to the urban side of Caasi, houses and buildings standing side by side, filled with people going in and out of places besides you. You would say that you’re on the busy side of Caasi. The territory of the Leyvas is in this area. “Very relaxing after that absurd conversation with Sir Isidro.”

“I mean you, _____. Beautiful,” Seungmin corrects, “you’re beautiful.”

You pull his mask from his face and drag him outside the function room. From the eyes of the stranger, the scene looked like you were attempting to torture him. And guess what? That’s what’s probably going to happen.

“Seungmin Solano,” hissing, you drop his mask and gracefully drag the knife out from under your dress, “the heir of the Solano gang, don’t you dare do this outside, especially on my territory.”

His presence in the Leyva territory in Caasi could get him killed instantly. Between the two of you, you are the protective one. You want to attain such privacy in the secret relationship that you’ve been keeping. After Seungmin betrayed you years ago for a mission, you ghosted him to leave Makan and return with unresolved feelings; you had to keep this one since the rivalry between the gangs is still wildly alive despite working together privately to stop the madness within the country. Members of both groups are still hesitant to collaborate, even if it is the only way to find the cure.

If anybody catches your revived romance, your families may abandon you or kill you. You are very sure that Minho wouldn’t hesitate if he knew. Both of you would get replaced by other potential heirs, like Minho.

You’re only working together for the sake of finishing the madness. And you’d rather not have this relationship delay or add conflict to your progress or future missions.

“I have an urgent matter with you, _____. Jeongin and I found something new that can help us with the madness—”

You pull him further away from the function room to the nearest corner of a building. Gritting your teeth, you push him further to that corner, “Your cousin knows what we’re doing? I told you we should keep this a secret! We could get in trouble if anybody saw us together.”

Now, you sound like you do not like this relationship. You despise that you two are forbidden lovers in a time wherein both of your families relentlessly kill each other — wanting to see the last man standing. What could be left is both of you if you keep safe and protect yourselves together.

Everything would’ve been so different if Seungmin had proceeded to stab you in your chest years ago. He knows that he wouldn’t do anything to harm you, but father’s orders, he said.

What made him stop seeing blood seep from your heart? Your heart it is.

He loved you too much. Even if he betrayed your trust once by killing your grandfather for Lord Solano’s validation, he still loved you. And he still loves you. He’d risk anything to keep you alive, which includes him invading your territory and visiting you at the masquerade ball. As long it’s not you who’s dead, what Seungmin thinks every time.

“Put the blade down, _____.” Seungmin grunts, resisting the steel on your hand. “We’re away from any people to be seen. No one’s going to see us here. Put it down.”

“Please.”

And that was the signal for you to bring down the blade. “What brings you here, Seungmin? Keep it quick too, maybe?”

Seungmin chuckles. “Jeongin and I discovered that the monster produces those insects that get into people’s heads.”

You hated how straightforward he was for this matter; how he said that the monster and insects were one; how he and his cousin found out perfectly. It was ridiculous to think that Seungmin would never get the correct information because he always does get everything he wants and needs.

You took a deep breath. Everything’s not clicking yet. First, you know that the Isidros have the cure to the madness, then Ereden Carlos holds the information about this monster, and now this? “Do you know any relation between the Isidros and this monster? I have some suspicions with Carlos already, but not with Jisung yet.”

Seungmin hums. Nothing was in his head just yet. He was still dazed at how you pointed him with that sharp knife that came out of nowhere. Although, there could be relations between Isidros and the monster.

“It’s more of the relation between Carlos and the Isidros. They may be setting us up, probably trying something out to lose the people’s trust for the gangs.” He gets back up on his legs, straightening his back and pulling down his coat. “It is possible that Jisung got some information about the monster from Ereden and created the vaccine formula so the Isidros could be back up there while the Leyvas and Solanos go down since we didn’t do anything good with the madness this time. They’re gaining power.”

Cursing under your breath, you walk in circles on the grass. Before it is too late, more information about Ereden Carlos and the Isidros is needed. The vaccine might have boosted the Isidros’ name since their business became dead in a heartbeat after a foreign company settled in the city. Only the Isidros, Carlos, and almost anybody associated with them has the answer to ending this madness.

“I think I could lure some info from Jisung,” you stopped, looking back at Seungmin. “I think he’d be glad I’m suddenly interested in his matters. I could go in the other day, hopefully.”

Seungmin took a few steps, tilting his head out of curiosity. “And for tonight? What can we do?”

Oh, you know Seungmin has something in mind. That look on his face tells you it’s something out of your mission. The glint on his eyes, that goofy smirk, and the wiggling eyebrows tell you that he has something foolish to say.

“What are you going to suggest, Seungmin? Say it,” you roll your eyes, “I just want to get over whatever’s in your head.”

You will never get used to Seungmin’s tomfoolery. He has always been the type to do things outside of what his family wanted. Even if his mother warned him to stay away from any Leyva, he fell in love with you. He was not allowed to hang around any place outside their territory not to cause any trouble — he still wandered around, even intentionally walking to a city nearby Caasi. Caasi is smaller than other cities, after all. Although, despite being smaller than those, your hometown is still big regardless. People would be desperate to use horses or bikes to travel around Makan, especially during summer.

Seungmin invited you once to visit a farm outside the city. He wanted to show you a discovery that he found on his own. He wanted you to enjoy life outside of being a gang member. And when both of you enjoyed your time prancing around the strawberry fields, he knew the risk was worth it. Seungmin’s heart was beating so fast because of that smile on your face when you saw the greenery and the sun shining brightly above you. Of course, he’d do anything to see the joy in its most visible form — you at that time.

That was one of the moments that he treasured so much. He didn’t care that he got scolded for coming home late as long as he knew that you had the most fantastic time of your life. He loved the risk of being with you. It gave him more reasons to quietly rebel for an extension of his freedom — more reasons to be with you without any prejudice.

Until this day, even if he still unsuccessfully tries to bury the guilt he felt for killing your grandfather, he’d still want your love. He still wants you despite breaking you multiple times.

“Let me bring you to the pier again?”

Again?

“Did you know that the pier only reminds me of one thing?” Seungmin carefully reaches for your hand, taking a deep breath. “You.”

The question and the touch of his hand felt like electricity climbing up from your feet. It was almost like you got shocked that you got stuck. You never knew Seungmin associated the pier with you and you only.

Seungmin found the daze on your face, giggling and shaking his head. He always found your reactions so adorable, no matter how deadly or soft it looks. It was his way of thinking that you’re just that animated and expressive, and that’s also one of the things he adores about you. With his soft touch against your rough skin, he says, “Whenever I see the ocean, I feel safe. I feel relaxed. I hope you know I think the same way as you by my side.”

The sweet words of your lover are not enough to touch your heart to its fullest. You mumble, “You probably forgot that I fear the ocean.”

Seungmin’s smile on his face drops, “I was trying to be romantic here.”

Pretending was your asset. You had to push Seungmin further. Waving it off, you tell him, “It’s not working, Seungmin. Try harder.”

The man in front of you smirks and tightens the grip on your hand. “Will you trust me?” Oh, he knows his second attempt to fluster you will work. His plan is simpler but stronger than the waves that crash loudly from the pier.

You’re probably going to trust him with this one — even with a small ounce of doubt because of the mischievous expression that quickly returned on his face. You’re aware that he will not stop until he satisfies you. “Fine. Go for it.”

He quickly picks up his mask from the ground and pulls it back to his face. He assumes you still have no expectations for what he could do, so he gently snakes his arms around your waist. Leaning to you, he asks you, whispering near your ear, “You up for a dance in there?”

Pulling his head back, he checks your face for any response, hopeful that you were good with the subtly risky request. All he saw was your lips quiver, unsure of what to say.

To be flustered was an understatement for you. His touch around you was electrifying you once again. The soft words to your ears gave you goosebumps.

“_____?” Seungmin traces circles on your back, still waiting for any answer from your mouth. He returns his head to where it should be, placing it on your shoulder and tightening his arms around you. When you stiffen around Seungmin, he chuckles. “Are you still there?”

Feeling like you’re unable to find any way to reciprocate the physical affection, you mumble, “Yeah, I’m still here.” Leaning your head over his on your shoulder, you finally answer him, “A dance would be nice. Just make sure your identity is covered. I don’t want you to get caught, please.”

“I don’t want to lose you. Don’t die.”

Those two sentences pulled Seungmin’s heartstrings. Even if avoiding death is a big oath to live by, he’d do anything to stay with you.

Losing each other has always been a topic you two talk about, especially in intimate moments like this. It was your way of declaring your love. It was your way to say that you’re never letting go of each other. Barriers and distress always come around, and you’ll let it pass every time you encounter them together. It was hard to be apart, hurting alone, after a piece of tragic news like losing your grandfather. What’s unfortunate was that it broke you more than usual because Seungmin did it. Your secret lover did it without fully holding himself back for you.

The two of you became numb that tragedies will always arise because of your social standing. You both resorted to surviving on your own and not delving into the casualties within your own families. Why?

Because, in the end, only one will be standing amidst this feud. And losing anybody hurts way too much. You and Seungmin were hopeful enough that there’d be two left standing, or for the better, everybody could still live, and the rivalry would be over.

Unfortunately, the duel is still going on too strong, and it’d be a long way to make peace.

“Such a heavy promise, _____.” Seungmin grins and looks down for a second. “But, yes, of course. I’ll always make sure that I’m still here alive. Even if our families tell us to tear each other apart, I’ll live because of you.”

Here lies Seungmin and the promise to possibly break. He wouldn’t mind committing to a vow like that. He’ll do anything for you.

You breathed out heavily. “This feels so wrong, Seungmin. But I hope you know that I love you, alright?”

The shakiness of your voice alarmed Seungmin. He knows what that meant. It was your occasional doubts about your relationship.

You had this before, too, when you were young. Yes, your families were unfortunately aware of your relationship, which was your problem. Simply being together will always make you question who will make the first move in threatening the other. No matter how space gets big or small between the two of you, both of you will always have a weapon ready to kill the other because your family said so.

“This is your chance to kill the rival gang’s heir, _____. Kill him.”

It felt right and wrong. You should’ve done that earlier if you did not fall for Seungmin. But if you did not fall for him, you wouldn’t feel the emotion of love and happiness if you buried yourself with anger and misery.

It felt wrong because you had your whole family behind you, looking forward to every chance to kill Solano’s intelligent and romantic heir.

It felt right because you escaped the sorrowful life of being a part of a violent gang temporarily every time. You finally felt the butterflies on your stomach, the blushes, the goosebumps, and the tingles.

And Seungmin’s your first and last love.

You know he'll always be the one even if you’re separated by force or dead in each other’s arms.

“I love you too.” He finally moves away, reaching your hand. “I know you’re concerned about us, but it’ll be alright. You’re safe.”

Stepping back into the building, he pulls you into the function room past the arc. Soft classical music and the aroma of the menu filled your senses, comforting you somehow. The fear of getting caught with a Solano by your side, holding your hand, ruins your mood, a flat expression visible on your face.

Seungmin beside you should be reassuring you. He covered himself with a dark blue mask and an outfit he wouldn’t usually wear. The navy blazer, white dress shirt, and black slacks should be enough to hide his identity. He’s known for wearing black from head to toe here in Caasi, a city of color. Whether that was his jacket, t-shirt, or even his shoes, they were black. Any Leyva wouldn’t notice him now.

He looks nice, cleaner than usual — a nice change for one night.

He brings you to a small space in the middle of the room, filled with pairs slow dancing to the music. Seungmin slips his arms around your waist once again, looking forward to your touch on his skin for another time.

You lightly place your arms around his neck, tying your hands together behind him, your skin touching the nape of his neck and his smooth collar. “Can we not make us too obvious here?”

He nods. “Quite a challenge, but anything for you, Miss Leyva,” he smiles. You want to remove his mask so bad. You want to see him smile at you with his whole face visible to your eye.

If only you two were dancing privately, you’d pull that piece of fabric in an instant.

Anybody can stumble upon your conversation, so you start with a discussion that is enough not to notice the sweet words and gestures. Hushing, you ask Seungmin. “I wasn’t able to ask you this earlier,” you chuckled, tilting your head, “but how were you able to discover the monster and those insects? How did you know they’re… one?”

He shivered over the memory but tried to answer you as calmly as possible. “We saw it on our way home. We found the monster releasing all of the insects from its back.”

“I was expecting as it’d get out of the monster’s mouth. That was a bummer.” You two laughed. Shaking your head, you ask him further about his discovery, “In all seriousness, did any of the insects chase you two after getting out of the monster?”

His mouth twitched. “We almost got the insects on our heads.” Seungmin felt the hands on his neck get heavier. “Hiding was our best option — we covered our heads with sacks, sitting behind boxes. The insects lost us when we ran away.”

You closed your eyes, relieved enough that Seungmin didn’t reach death by a tiny but lethal creature. “Thank god none of you got bitten. I’d be devastated if any of you gets bitten by that insect. We shouldn’t be losing any more people here in Caasi.”

Fear crossed Seungmin’s face behind the mask. Aside from you being one of his priorities, he had to finish what was breaking the city. They should move as soon as possible. People die every minute, and it has become a norm, something way too normal to see.

Incidents of dying because of the insects became regular, receiving multiple reports within a day. He once saw one die in the distance, noticing that the people didn’t care and the nurses nearby just dealt with the lifeless body immediately.

Seungmin agrees with your statement, humming with contentment. The madness should indeed end as soon as they could. “If you’re going to the home of the Isidros, you must send a letter right away,” his brows drew together, “I am very sure that we’ll get anything to stop this madness. I’ll even go with you to make sure the information is safe—”

You tap his shoulder to stop his words. “No, I’ll be the only one going. I don’t want to give you that risk of going there with me.” Trying to lower your voice down, you continue. “Right after I visit, I will tell you everything in detail to ensure we didn’t miss anything to find answers.”

Seungmin, right then, realized that you established your desire of wanting him to live. But what about you? Will you be the one who needs to face the danger every time? “Everything we’ve been doing for the past few weeks has been a significant risk, _____. Accompanying you to their manor wouldn’t hurt as the things we previously did—”

“Take your hands off of my cousin, Solano. I know it’s you.” A voice boomed around the room, followed by a gun click, the weapon pointed right behind Seungmin’s head.

When Minho popped into your head with that hell of a display, you gently pushed Seungmin away, facing your cousin. This time, the gun is right in front of you. “Dear cousin, put that down—”

Minho resists. He points at Seungmin with his other hand, his forehead creasing with much aggravation, “I know that voice, _____! It’s—”

You reach for his wrist, ensuring he’ll not shoot anybody in this room. “No, it’s not. Leave the poor man alone, Minho. The stranger’s harmless. Solano would be gone in a second if he stepped into our territory, right?” You take a look around the room. You caught the sight of who you assumed was Jeongin, who took a careful step forward in case anything happened to his cousin. You warn Minho again with a soft voice, “Everybody’s scared of your gun, Minho. Put it down, keep it.”

You glance at Seungmin, waving your hand at him to quickly leave the scene. Minho sneers. Before he got the chance to speak, the silence broke with a woman’s cry.

No.

Someone’s dying. Again.

You want to break down on your knees and cry. With such instinct, you yell to everybody to get out of the room. Desperate enough to save more citizens, you push the ones nearby to the door.

Noticing that more people slowly reach for their throats and kill themselves, blood flooding near tables and chairs, you try your hardest to push to your limit and put the people to safety. One by one, people are ‘possessed’ by the insect on their heads to end their life, and you feel so mad at yourself for that.

You failed to save them. They could’ve lived longer if that insect didn’t fly silently to their scalps.

Holding your tears, you take a deep breath and continue to rush to the people around to get out. You can’t break in front of all of them while trying to save them. Keep that for later and finish this.

You hear a familiar voice calling for your name. You quiver. This feels wrong. So wrong.

Running to where the voice is, you found Felix, Minho’s younger brother, and another beloved cousin, resisting his hand to reach for his neck. Your jaw clenches, straddling his waist and meeting your hands with his wrists to join him from not becoming a part of the madness’ pitiful victims.

Chanting his name, you hope the resistance would last, and he’ll live. “Please, I don’t want to lose you too.”

Please, let him live, you prayed.

This is what you don’t want — losing precious people. Why does this keep happening to you?

You didn’t notice with your heart full of anger and resentment that you were already crying and breathing heavily. Looking behind, you get your body up and step on one of the legs shuffling on the floor.

“Felix, hold on. Please, don’t put your hand on your neck!” You shout. Your chest is getting heavy metaphorically. You try to keep your hands on his wrists, feeling the pain on your fingers and wrists from the force Felix’s arms are pushing against you.

With his consciousness still alive, Felix has been trying to put his arms down not to claw his neck. He hated what came for him. Felix knew what you were doing for the city. He knows that you’re finding an end to the monster. But he’s been holding on way too long for his energy not to go to waste.

And perhaps, this is where he ends before your mission does.

You saw the eyes of your cousin, your brother, slowly lose their sparks. If he stopped himself a little more, you’d let go of one of his hands and search for the insects in his head.

You felt someone touch your arms from behind, pulling you back. You thought everybody got out already, including Lord Leyva and Minho.

“_____, let him go,” you hear Seungmin grunt, pulling your hands away from Felix. You want to scream, to resist more along with Felix. You’d seriously do everything to keep one of the most valuable people you ever had alive. You’d hate yourself more if you leave this place with your dearest cousin dead and gone.

Feeling the strength of his hands to reach the neck get stronger, Felix slowly loses his energy to keep up and shallowly tells you, “You heard him, _____. I’ll be okay. I don’t want you to get these insects to your head either.”

“No, Felix,” you shake your head vigorously, repeating a few more before stepping your foot away from his leg and leaning to his chest, sobbing harder than before. “You mean a lot to me, Felix. I don’t want to lose you too.”

Technically lying down on his chest, you feel your tears fall to your cousin’s brown button-down. Seungmin reaches for your arms once again, pulling you away from him.

Seungmin calls for your name, telling you to get away from him immediately if you let him go. Sniffling whilst holding onto Felix’s pale wrists, you share your last few words with him.

“I’ll make sure I’ll end this madness for you, Felix. I’d hunt down whoever started this, whoever made you die like this.”

Seungmin jolted at how every word from your mouth felt like fire. Gripping on your limbs, he asks if you’re getting up. When you said yes without such emotion, he quickly pulled you up after you finally removed Felix’s wrists from your hands.

When you get back up on your feet, you pull Seungmin into your body, covering your eyes with his chest and your ears with his hands. You chose not to see how your cousin died with his own bloody hand.

Seungmin holds on to you securely, covering you up until Felix is truly lifeless. He shudders when he looks back at Felix’s body, his left arm lying on his chest, his hand painted red, and his neck sliced open. He wanted to give you a great night, only leaving you a catastrophe that might’ve changed your life for another time.

He removes his hands from your ears, stroking them on your head to check if any insect flew to your head. “He’s… gone now, _____.”

Your hands fall from Seungmin’s waist, moving back to look at the body — rage courses through your veins at the sight of your bloodied cousin. You crave violence even with no absolute idea of who started the madness. You want to kill who made these creatures with your own hands.

Killing the culprit will be the only thing that will satisfy you for a lifetime.

Seungmin’s name fell off your lips, wanting his attention before you end the night. “I’ll send the letter to the Isidros tonight. Let’s end this as soon as possible. Meet me at the usual spot tomorrow first thing in the morning. ”

You guess you ate your own words. You’re not numb to losing people at all. You still care for others’ lives.

73 notes · View notes

chiwhorei · 4 years ago

Text

pollock

paring: art major!k. tsukishima x fem!reader

genre: a dash of angst, hurt/comfort, smut, 18+ minors dni

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, impregnating kink, soft and kinda hard dom!tsukki, sub!reader

a/n: ahhhhh!! this is my first longer fic to come out in a while and i am ~so~ excited to share this with everyone. i have been keening over the idea of art!major tsukki and i hope you all like him as much as i do! this is piece is brought to you by the hqhq monthly server collab, so please go check out everyone’s amazing writing, the masterlist can be found here!

hymn: validation by herrick & hooley, cherry hill by russ

“Your work is always technically very well executed, Tsukishima-san.” The round, bald-headed man shuffles through the photos on his desk, pieces of Tsukishima Kei’s senior project that he’s tried to fit together before his final exhibit only four months away.

“But,” the dreaded word has Tsukki restraining himself from a long eye roll, “It seems like you’re stuck. You still need one more piece for the show. What inspires you?”

You hear a resounding slam of the front door swinging open and meeting the frame again, followed by a shuffle of feet towards where you’re standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment. Tsukki’s mouth is set in a flat line, expression softening only slightly when he sees you leaning against the counter. You greet him with a warm, but cautious smile. It had been a horribly long day, grating on every thread of patience Tsukishima has. The bubbling of anxiety and frustration mixing into a sour look on his handsome face. You hate seeing your boyfriend so defeatus, much preferring the sardonic, confident air he usually holds. Both of your final years of college have been exceptionally taxing, Tsukki’s final art project being the most stressing of all. It seems like as days propel forward, closer to his due date, the less assured he is of his talents, his passions. It’s heartbreaking to see someone so brilliant struggle through a million half fleshed-out ideas and crumbled up leaves of paper.

You pull one of his hands to you, examining the stains of paint and ink across his long digits and kissing each finger softly. You wish you could get inside that big head of his and help in some way.

“Did you have a hard day at the studio, Kei?” You wrap your arms around his neck and search his eyes. He’s not always the best at talking to you, especially when he’s upset, so you don’t expect him to give you an answer. Instead, you rub his shoulders, trying to coax the tension out. He sighs deeply at the contact, hands moving to rest at the plush of your hips and gripping tightly when you work at a particularly sore spot.

“You’re too good to me, princess. Thank you” He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, and you nuzzle into him. You don’t have the answers to his current road block, you don’t pretend to. But maybe, you think, you can offer him a more carnal outlet.

“Of course, Daddy.” The name hangs in the air for a moment, any response hitching in his throat. The title is familiar after years of being together, always being both comforting and electrifying. Since the title slipped out years ago for the first time, your boyfriend feels his cool demeanor snapping like a glow stick, leaving hot lust in its wake upon it rolling past your lips.

He pulls you closed to him by your ass, inhaling sharply at the contact on his jeans. All you have on is one of Tsukki’s loose, paint stained sweaters and a thin pair of cotton panties. You brush one of your bare thighs against his crotch, and he feels the stresses of his day falling out of frame. Your body is always a buoy to pull him back from the drowning of self doubt. A perfect slice of heaven he became addicted to from the moment he spotted you across the dusty stacks.

“What inspires you?”

The question rings in his head again, but with a new perspective. Tsukki hears pieces clicking together with your lustrous body pressed against him.

“Babygirl, I think I have an idea. But I’m going to need your help.” His hands move to cup your cheeks, scanning over your features and finding a devious glint behind your soft, e/c eyes. Tsukki trails a thumb over your bottom lip lightly, admiring how you lean into the contact. Always so eager to please him, your temperament goes straight to his cock every time.

“Anything for you, daddy.” You press your forehead against his, waiting patiently for his next move. There’s astounding beauty in the glossy, temperate look in your eyes that he wants to, has to, to freeze in time.

“I have a few things to set up. Come to the office when I call you,” Tsukki pushes a stray hair from your face with a fond smile before walking away, he stops for a moment to look at you over his shoulder, “Naked.”

Your mind races as to what exactly he wants to do with you tonight as you busy yourself with peeling off your clothing. There is very little that you and your boyfriend haven’t tried at least once, but the tone in his voice has left you reeling at the possibilities.

Your eyes catch your reflection in the hallway mirror, naked body completely exposed to your own scrutinizing stare. Had it been the stress causing the image in front of you to be so unsavory? Every plane of skin promoting a different insecurity. A blasted thing a hallway mirror becomes when you’ve never truly loved what stares back. You fuss with your hair in a feeble attempt to make yourself more presentable. The question of how Tsukishima sees you always rattling around in the back of your head, especially standing completely naked and waiting in your own insecurities.

“Princess, come here.” You are pulled from your deprecating thoughts at the sound of Tsukki’s warm voice. You walk into his office, and notice he’s changed into just a pair of grey joggers. The sight of the low hanging garment making you salivate so much you almost miss your surroundings. He’s struck some kind of inspiration, you can see it in his eyes as he adjusts his easel and props up a large, blank canvas. You fiddle with your fingers as he looks up at you.

“Jackson Pollock.” You meet your boyfriend’s eyes, confused by his seemingly random statement as he parses out different colored paints into small bowls. Red, blue, green, yellow. “He poured paint on a flat surface so that he could view every angle color could create, every curve.” Tsukki muses, dipping two fingers into the bright yellow hue sitting next to him, bringing them towards his face with contemplation. “But I think this sweet little body of yours will prove a much better canvas.”

His eyes provide no sign of bluffing, but you stare back at him dumbly. Sure, he’s used you as a muse before. Studying your hands or the way your hair falls in the sketches you see hanging up by his desk behind you. You love when he wants to use your body for inspiration, but is he really going to cover you in paint?

“We both know you don’t mind getting a little messy,” He trails his wet pointer finger across your collarbone, following a line towards your chin. He tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Open your mouth.”

Your bottom lip parts from the top, eyes following the line of spit that drops from his mouth to your tongue with a resounding put.

You swallow thickly, the feeling of his control already bending your will to meet him at every pass.

“I want you to look nice and fucked out for me, baby. I want to show my stuffy professors where my inspiration comes from. I’m going to capture how sweet and submissive my little princess is and then everyone will get to see what I get to enjoy every night.” His unmarred hand moves towards your already disastrously wet pussy. You’re drooling at even the most slight contact, bucking into his hand in a plea for more. His words, complimentative but unmistakingly domineering, have your head becoming fuzzy.

“Daddy, please. Please touch me.” Your whines are music to his ears.

“Oh princess, I plan on it. But I need you to be good for me. You don’t want to mess up all my hard work do you?” His voice is steady, authoritative but still soft around the edges in a way that makes you feel gooey.

Tsukki leads you to the stool sitting in the middle of the room, and you perch on it with his hands keeping you steady. You are his muse and medium, his subject and his canvas to use in any way desired.

Smudges of color brandish every inch of your skin, each stroke is a reminder of where your lovers hands have been. Blue and pink splatter against your stomach, a vibrant red outline on each curve of your breast and purple fingerprints against your pert nipples. Your legs wear a trail of hand prints towards your glistening cunt, wanton cunt. Each marring of paint sits beside paths of hot, opened mouth kisses.

All that is keeping you balanced on the squeaky wooden stool is Tsukishima’s strong arms holding you captive in place. Your legs had been thrown over his shoulders after painting across your upper thighs in a sea of greys and greens. As soon as Tsukki’s eyes met with your bare cunt, his mouth was quick to follow.

He’s a mess of paint now too, muscular chest and arms covered in pigment and face covered in you. He’s always insatiable, drinking you in like it’s the only source of sustenance left in the world. He knows how to work you, how to propel you towards orgasm in a way no one else has ever been able to do. Worshiping your body with langued strokes of his tongue. You let out a pitchy moan in response to his mouth, pushing you towards an end you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I bet you want to cum don’t you, baby? I can feel it. Such an eager little thing.” Tsukishima ghosts his lips across your hot cunt, blowing at your clit to make you yelp. You’re so close, too close. Dangling above bliss but not tipping over, knowing you need permission. You’ve been so good for him, he has to give you your release.

“Please, daddy. Please let me cum.” Tears wet your cheeks as you beg, holding onto Tsukki’s blond locks like an anchor. All you need is his approval, but instead of persimmon you are met with a bawdy laugh.

You really should have known he wasn’t going to let you go that easy.

Tsukki stands up, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. You’re wrecked in every way. Hair loose and disheveled, body dipped in a thin layer of sweat and thick splotches of paint. The look on your face is equal parts pathetic and fervent.

“I need you to sit pretty for daddy, I want to capture how desperately beautiful you look right now.” His words make you preen, but it’s a compliment and a warning at the same time. He wants to capture the look of sweet pain of denied orgasm to display at an art exhibit of both peers and his seniors. Sadistic in Tsukishima’s own unique way.

You should have known better, Tsukki’s patience has always been astounding. You know all he wants to do is bury himself in you, but he wants even more to make you suffer under his stare. There’s plenty of times he unleashes his frustration out on you physically, ripening your ass cheeks in bright red handprints and ensuring you can’t walk in the morning. But it’s these moments that can be even harsher, when he regards you with steely eyes and a aloof threat, that make your nerves catch fire more than a spanking ever could.

He sits down to start sketching on the large canvas in front of him, pinning you to your position with a practiced glare and playing on your desire to please him.

You sit as still as you can, listening to the scratch of pencil on vinyl in an attempt to keep calm. Your cunt is still twitching, puffy and slick propped uncomfortably atop the wooden stool. Tsukki hums along to the rhythmic music coming from his phone speaker, a playlist you know to be the one that helps him concentrate on his work. His brow furrows in concentration, pushing his glasses back in place as he stares at you again. His eyes are calculating and coldly observant, but his mouth quirks up in a surprising smile.

“My perfect baby. So stunning in every way.” His thoughts start tumbling out without his usual sarcastic filter.

“I have never wanted something more in my life than you. All of you, all the time.” A genuine regard for you in the lilt of his voice clamps down on your chest. He’s called you pretty, told you he loved you a million times before, but there’s a calm resonance in his words as his hands move across the white caves in front of him that catches in your throat. With the pressure of graduation looming over the two of you these past few months, romantics have been pushed to the side to make room for laser focus on finishing your degrees.

Your eyes well at his confessional, struck by the vulnerability so unfamiliar to him. You missed this side of your boyfriend, unlocking it incrementally through the years and finding it virtually non-existent recently. He sees your shoulders trembling slightly and tears his eyes up to your form.

“I told you to stay still.” His voice comes out harsh, but melts away when he sees fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

“Y/n, are you okay? Did I upset you?” He moves to console you, the action causing another round of sobs, your body on edge in every way after both the teasing and his impromptu affirmation. Your response surprises yourself just as much as Tsukki, not realising how starved of his affection you had become.

“I’m sorry daddy, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just- do you mean all that?” You lower your head in embarrassment, and Tsukishima’s heart breaks at the realization. Had he unintentionally disregarded you? Had he been ignoring you?

“Fuck baby, of course I mean it. I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.” He pulls you up into his strong hold, he lets you cry into his shoulder until your wracking sobs simmer to sniffles. He holds you tightly in an attempt at atonement. He has to do something to show you how he feels now that he knows his words have failed him. His actions have to speak in his place.

Tsukishima pulls you away slightly to meet his gaze before colliding his lips against yours. He traces his tongue in sonnets across your mouth, tasting the lingering essence of your arousal and the salt of your tears. He writes prose in the breathy gasps as you part for air, chests heaving. He has to show you what his words won’t always allow him to.

It’s bodies tangled together, covered in the colors of a man trying his best to show you how much he loves you. You had fallen to the floor at the behest of passion, Tsukki’s body covering yours, lips kissing any extension of your skin, uncaring of the paint covering both of your writhing frames.

You paw at his sweatpants as if they are the most offensive thing you’ve ever scene, Tsukki’s cock springs out to slap against the hard muscle of his abdomen. You don’t waste any time lining him up to your dripping folds, you’ve waited long enough. Hips crashing together like a fever dream, you’re wrapped in each other as if there’s nothing else in this world outside of a set of paints and four walls of a dimly lit apartment. The sun could be hurling towards the sidewalk just outside and Tsukishima, usually observant to a fault, would have no idea. All he knows is your body beneath him, clawing desperately at his back with every deep thrust, and the love poem he has written on your body. Reds across your breasts and brandishing your thighs. Greens and yellows across your neck, up your arms. Messy, sticky, covering the thin sheet Tsukki laid out to spare the hardwood.

Your panting, crying out for your daddy and consumed in the salty taste of love and lust crashing together like waves. His cock is heavy inside you, filling you up so completely. Tsukki rowes on, not daring to stop now, not with the resounding drumming of two hearts beat so perfectly together and the feeling of your clenching, velveteen walls hugging him like he’s coming home.

“I am so desperately in love with you. I want you like this, with me, forever.” He’s delirious, drunk on your body. Primal, as he stares down at you, colorful and completely conquered. He sees everything in your eyes, every baser desire, every hope for the future.

“I want to fill you up with my cum, princess. You are mine in every way. God, I want to see you swollen with my baby. Right here.” He presses against your belly, feeling his cock moving inside you from the splotches of pick and blue.

His confessional spurs you on, the emotions overwhelming. Feeling so loved, so needy, wanting everything the blonde above you is willing to give.

“Ah, Daddy! Please, please fill me up. I wa-want you to put a baby in me, I need it.” Your clenching tightly, each pump of Tsukishima’s cock better than the last.

“You are such a good girl baby, always saying exactly what I need to hear. Cum for me, princess, let me see how good I make you feel.”

His warrant is all you’ve needed this whole time, snapping to hours of tension with a sharp cry. You’re thrown into the pooling, honey-sweet feeling of release. Sinking every inch of your aching body into a blissed haze. Your walls spasm violently, tightening around him like a vice. He meets your hips with his own, knocking hip bones together like pool balls and holding himself in your heat as you milk his throbbing cock, stealing every drop of hot, while cum he has to offer.

He crumbles to the floor beside you, pulling you to his chest. Lying in a mess of paint and sweat and staggered breathing. Through the fog still resounding in your head, you hear Tsukki laughing lightly, “How’s that for inspiration?”

-Four Months Later-

You shift on your toes in anticipation, waiting for Tsukishima to release the hold he has around your eyes. You hear the bustle of people around you, the laughter and tinkling of glasses clinking together filling your ears. He kisses your temple before letting go, and you are met with a new reflection of yourself hung proudly on display. All of the places you see blemishes are drawn with vibrant purposeful color. Every curve of your form mapped out with the care only a lover could administer. Your naked form exhibited for hundreds of critiquing eyes, but there’s not a bone in your body that could feel embarrassed in this moment. As reflection so beautiful it’s unbelievable is staring back at you.

“Is this really how you see me, Kei?” You turn around to meet his eyes, his stare holds the love of epics. He would write you novels if he could, but this picture is worth a thousand words.

“Of course it is, baby,” He brings a hand to thumb at your slightly swelling belly.

“Of course it is.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hqhq server collab #haikyuu hq #hq tsukishima

2K notes · View notes

aine-ayase · 3 years ago

Text

“I wish you were here with me.”

before we start with the oneshot, I just want to address in the past or future posts please feel free to correct me if the pictures are alright to repost if you know or follow the artist and if I didn’t know who the artist are please contact me if you know them so they’ll be credited :) alright! please enjoy the fic.

WARNINGS: mild angst(?), fluff, cursing (idk if it's a curse but let's put it here for precautions), comfort

ALBEDO

When you started dating, you didn’t expect Albedo to always be present. He was the chief alchemist, always out for expeditions or in Dragonspine conducting a new experiment to avoid any unwanted injuries or disturbance. Sometimes you feel like his first priority is always his work, just the thought of that make you want to puke but that’s okay. It’s alright. You were already happy that he reciprocated the same feelings as you but it’s been two weeks since and the both of you still act the same with no one advancing.

It almost feels like a game, who will act out first? Albedo was taking a break and asked you if you could accompany him to Starfell lake. You already know that he was going to paint so you decided to bring some books with you. The walk there was peaceful, and you notice one of his hands was empty. It was practically screaming for you to hold his hand but your stubborn ass decided you weren’t because you didn’t want to loose this game you internally started.

Albedo sets up the canvas and paints while keeping an eye on your figure. You sat crossed leg on the blanket while making yourself comfortable as you take a book and start reading it. He grabbed his pencil and started sketching and just like that the both of you fell into silence, just enjoying each others presence.

As he started painting your lips, a passing thought crossed the alchemist’s head that turned the tips of his ears turned bright red. It took him a few minutes to compose himself, practically hiding behind his canvas to prevent you from seeing his flustered face. “ ‘bedo?” you raised a brow your lover “Why are you hiding behind the canvas?” he coughed, clearing his throat. “I was picking out the color for the painting. Is there something that matter?”

“Shall we start eating? It’s been a while since we left the city gates.” Albedo turned his head to you questionably, “But we didn’t prepare any--” You set down the sweet madame on the blanket as something warm started blooming in his chest. [bruh this kdrama is distracting me along with my fried brain]

"I almost forgot. I will be leaving for Dragonspine tomorrow until the next weekend." He says while looking at you for any reaction. You nod your head and kept eating as if that didn't affect you he frowns, if you wanted to come with him or asked him to stay a little bit longer he would've complied to you without a second thought.

"Be safe, come back quickly." Those were the last words you said to him before he left to go to the snowy mountain.

You went to the Favonious library on monday to check on the new releases that were delivered and borrowed them for the week to read. Baked some cookies for Klee and Diona to share and continued to finish your crochet. Honestly you were just distracting yourself and diverting your attention to another thing so you wouldn't break down.

So when you were out of things to do, you felt numb. You went to Albedo's house to play with Klee but apparently she was out of the house, the house was eerily silent. There were no laughter or messy paint splatters. You wrapped your body with his blanket as you inhaled his scent to calm you down. Grabbing a pillow to hug, imagining it was his body instead.

Tears started coming out of your eyes while you murmur his name as if pleading him to hear your voice and come to your side quickly. Damn it, why are you like this? Stop. Don't even- Don't even think about self deprecating thoughts right now. Your lips quiver "I wish you were here right now." you whisper.

"I'm right here." Albedo kissed your crown while patting your head as he smiled down at you. Your wide eyes stared at his, not believing he was here beside you. He chuckled at your expression "You know, Sucrose told me about...your little game. I didn't even know we had a game going on until I asked Sucrose if you hated being touched." Your cheeks warms up as you struggle to form a sentence.

All this time it was a one-sided game?! Gosh that's so embarrassing. His fingers caress your cheek, guiding your head to look at him. "May i?" You nod and he closed the distance, with his lips gently pressing against yours.

intended this too be longer it's been sitting in my drafts for a week now. I don't have any motivation to write right now so I'm sorry. I'm thinking of not reposting any arts from now on bc all my sources are from Pinterest and idk if i have the correct artist. Please talk to me if i do repost and i didn't do proper credit. But please be nice, bitch is kinda sensitive.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin albedo #albedo #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x reader #albedo come home #genshin comfort #albedo imagines #genshin fanfic #mild angst #idk anymore #half assed #heavy sigh #copium

186 notes · View notes

sehunniepotwrites · 4 years ago

Text

sakura kiss | n.yt

PART III OF FOR YOU IN FULL BLOOM: THE HANAHAKI COLLECTION

🌸 synopsis—the four times you noticed yuta’s love for flowers and the one time you realized it was not the flowers he was in love with

🌸 genre— would you be so kind? universe ; hanahaki!au, university!au, flower shop!au, angst, romance, slight fluff, mutual pining, strangers to lovers!au 🌸 pairing— art student/florist!yuta x art student!reader (f) 🌸 word count— 9000+

🌸 warnings — cursing; mentions of coughing, vomiting, hospital visits, death (no one dies!!), two idiots in love

🌸 author’s note—so i finished a fic with my favorite trope in time for my birthday today (dec 11th) and i’m posting to celebrate! it all started with this tweet that said yuta used to work at a flower shop and enjoyed drawing the plants during his free time!

this was a fun write and it takes place in the same verse as wybsk, which is linked above! you can read sakura kiss as a stand alone or after wybsk to get a better understanding of two scenes! to those you came from my mark fic, i gave yn a name (kira)!

but here she is! enjoy and be sure to tell me what you think!! i love feedback uwu

Nakamoto Yuta, you noticed, was an unusual fellow. He was your senior in the art department, a fourth-year preparing for his graduation while you were a couple of semesters behind him. Other than his small circle of friends, the foreign exchange student kept to himself, burying his handsome face in his sketchbook. You had classes together before but those were large lectures with over fifty students in the room— this was the first time you shared a small studio lab with him.

Barely interacting with him in the past, you were determined to change that no matter how intimidating Yuta was.

Were you intimidated by his extremely good looks or his unmatched talents in the fine arts? Both. Definitely both. He turned heads without fail and when he smiled, oh my god, you thought he was the sun. Yuta was pretty, beyond pretty even, with his striking face, brown eyes, and perfect body proportions.

To add on top of his perfection, his art style was immaculate. The artist never failed to steal your breath away with a couple of strokes and a swipe of his blessed hand. Anything he touched turned to gold. Never sharing those thoughts with him in the past, you made a firm decision to tell your senior this coming semester.

Yuta sat at the easel next to you, barely two feet away from your station. His sketchbook and drawing utensils were already splayed out on the holder. He was fiddling with his phone to pass the time, his painted nails rapidly hitting his touchscreen. How did Yuta make something so mundane as checking his phone look so ethereal? The inner most thoughts in your head cursed whatever beings lived in the beyond for not endowing you with such looks.

You gulped, gathering up the courage to talk to him. “Hey,” you greeted shyly.

Hey? That was the best you could do?

Yuta turned towards you, gaze shifting away from his phone. “Hey,” he said back with a slight curve of the lip.

“I don’t know if you remember me but we had a couple of classes together last semester,” you forced yourself to say with an awkward smile.

He grinned and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, almost like he was holding back a laugh. “Yeah, no, of course, I remember you.” Your name slips from his mouth, causing your awkward smile to turn into a genuine one. His tone is kind and his voice is low, sending shivers down your spine.

You tried your best to keep the conversation going, wanting to finally compliment him on his work but your professor entered the room and called for everyone’s attention. He handed out the syllabus to a student upfront and around the papers went, signifying the start of your first class. Yuta shot you an apologetic look, conveying that you could always continue the conversation later.

The overview of the course’s syllabus was always the boring part of the first days. Your eyes glazed over, still not fully awake from rising early, and you tried to shake the sleepiness away. Stealing a glance at Yuta, you almost laughed at how his easel was angled in a way to hide that he wasn’t paying any attention. His syllabus outline was discarded off to the side and Yuta’s hands were moving rapidly, sketching out a large tree in full bloom in a page of his notebook.

It looked like flower petals raining from the branches and a person leaning against the tree trunk, hiding underneath the shade. His sketching speed and quality amazed you— how exactly did he sketch that fast and that beautifully?

You made sure your professor wasn’t looking in your direction before nudging Yuta’s side to grab his attention. He snapped out of his drawing daze and turned to you with widened eyes. A red seeped into his ears and pale cheeks, but you missed it completely, eyes zoned in on his quick draw.

“Hm?”

“That’s really good,” you whispered.

He rubbed the back of his neck at your compliment. “It’s just a quick sketch,” Yuta tried to play it off. He was never one to take compliments so well.

You leaned over to get a closer look. Noticing you almost falling off your stool, Yuta shifted his easel slightly closer to yours. “Is that a cherry blossom tree?”

He nodded, “Yeah, they’ve been on my mind a lot.”

“Do they remind you of home?” you asked. You couldn’t imagine being an exchange student in a foreign country— you would miss home too much.

“Yeah but that’s not really the reason why I’m drawing them,” he replied. His eyes shifted to a look of pain or discomfort as if he was reminded of a scarring memory. You watched him closely to make sure he was okay. He cleared his throat before letting out a couple of concealed coughs, face digging into his shoulder.

“You alright, Nakamoto?” You were too embarrassed to call him by his first name.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little cough.” Yuta gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “And you can just call me Yuta, you know?”

“Right, noted,” the name felt so foreign on your tongue.

“I have cough drops in my bag if you want some,” you offered, already reaching down to grab your backpack. He quickly dismissed you, telling you it wasn’t necessary.

Continuing to watch him sketch, you admired the way Yuta fussed over the smallest details— the lining, the shading, etc. It was nothing more than a simple sketch but if it was gifted to you, it would be framed and hung for the world to see.

He really was an artistic genius.

“Cherry blossoms are my favorite flowers,” you said.

You were too absorbed in his drawing to hear him mutter, “I know.”

“You say something?”

Yuta cleared his throat again with a pained expression. His hand held his neck for a second before shaking his head. “I said, they used to be mine too.”

Huh, you never really picked him as the flower loving type.

—🌸—

This was the third time Nakamoto Yuta had flowers growing in his chest and he hated it.

It was less painful the first two times around, probably because they were nothing more than fleeting crushes. He was in high school then, wholly infatuated with two different students during those years. Yuta followed them around like a lovesick puppy, all smiles and waiting on their hands and feet. He coughed a couple of petals out and it caused some uneasiness, but after being rejected harshly, Yuta pushed himself to move on.

The pain of high school rejection could never compare to the dull ache he was feeling as he looked at you. There you were, the person he secretly admired for the past two semesters, merely two feet away at your own easel.

You looked so in your element, eyebrows knitted and pencil in hand as you sketched away. A sight so captivating, Yuta almost forgot to breathe. Being an artist himself, he wanted to preserve that image on a canvas but he didn’t think his hand could do you justice. No pencil sketch, no painted canvas, no marble or clay sculpture could even compare to you.

This was more than puppy love. More than infatuation. Yuta was sure of it but how was he to let you know? You barely knew each other and a confession out of nowhere wouldn’t be the best way to get acquainted.

Perhaps another time, he thought to himself, before turning back to his sketch.

You would’ve never guessed that Yuta Nakamoto had a thing for flowers but he did.

Then again, you didn’t really know what he had a thing for to begin with— your friendship just started to bloom. It was like a bud barely opening under the sunlight; with each interaction, there was something new you learned about the quiet yet charismatic art major.

You knew he was a Japanese exchange student that majored in art, that was a given. You recently learned he loved cherry blossoms and that watercolor was his favorite art medium yet you still wanted to learn more.

The first time you ran into him outside of class was in the university library. Yuta sat at one of the tables, his space surrounded by books on flowers. There were books on the language, arrangements, and gardening tips. His face was deep into his sketchbook once again, back bent over the desk but his focused eyes darted back and forth between his drawing and his page of reference.

Yuta didn’t even notice as you hovered over him, debating on whether you should say hi. Even with your shadow casting over his body, his deep concentration never faltered.

His page was filled with various plants and flowers, little notes in a messy scrawl right under their pictures. He was currently drawing cherry blossoms, the page he was referring to showcasing the anatomy of the famous flower.

“Cherry blossoms again, Yuta?” you broke the silence.

Your voice startled him, causing his pencil to slip from the artist’s grip. It made an accidental mark and you whispered an apology as he clicked his tongue.

“Don’t worry about it, nothing an eraser can’t fix,” Yuta reassured you as he rid his paper of the unwanted mark. He blew the eraser bits of his page, hand sweeping his surface clean. He offered you the seat next to him and you gladly took it.

“So, why are you always sketching flowers?” you posed as your hand gestured to all the books he had on his person.

“They’re beautiful, don’t you think?” he answered with another question. He gave you a cheeky little grin, his lips widening to show off his beautiful pearly whites.

“Well, yeah.”

“It’s a shame they die so easily,” Yuta said, fingers running over his sketches. “Beautiful but fleeting.”

“But that’s life, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is.”

You hummed at his answer. “You’re really passionate about flowers, aren’t you?”

“Something like that. I actually work at a flower shop nearby, maybe you’ve seen it?” Yuta fiddled with the front pocket of his backpack to pull out a business card. “I like learning about the meanings to help the customers in the shop, amongst other things.”

You took the card from his grip, examining it. For You in Full Bloom was printed largely on the thin piece of cardboard. Staring at the name, you wondered why it sounded so familiar until it hit you.

“Oh, I pass by it everyday while walking to campus! I live two blocks away from the shop.” Your smile grew wider and he smiled back for a second before his face contorted into one that conveyed pain.

Yuta turned away from you to cough into his hand, his free one hastily digging into his pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief and began to cough into that. Shocked by his sudden sick fit, you quickly patted him on the back, hoping it would help him hack out whatever was lodged in his throat.

You saw him peek into the small square of fabric and wince at whatever it caught. He cleared his throat before turning back to you. “Sorry,” Yuta muttered, rubbing the front of his neck to soothe it. Placing a cough drop in his hand, he took it without complaint and popped it in his mouth. The relieved sigh he let out made you feel slightly less worried.

“You’re still sick?” you frowned. “You should really get that checked out, you know?”

He waved you off, “It’s nothing serious, I swear. What were we talking about again?”

“Cherry blossoms?”

“Your favorite flower.”

“And yours,” you added.

He hummed, “And mine.” There was a solemn tone behind his words but before you could press on the subject, he coughed again.

“Did you know that they’re also a symbol of renewal?”

Shaking your head, you urged your classmate to continue.

“Cherry blossoms hold the bittersweet meaning of life and death but they also bring the message of new beginnings.”

—🌸—

Yuta just wished when it came to you and him, the flowers meant the start of something new but no— instead, they just reminded him of the ache in his chest.

They reminded Yuta of how alive he was but also how he was one step closer to his grave.

Yes, you were merely classmates but he felt like he knew you solely from all the stories that were shared by your mutual friends in the art department. Ten and Taeyong sang praises on how thoughtful you were, always helping professors clean their studios after hours. Sicheng brought up how passionate you were about your major— Yuta himself bore witness to this many times during lectures and he wanted to know more about you.

A lot of charm filled your figure and it was enchanting, it really wasn’t that hard for him to fall.

Yuta fell for you much like the blossoms from the cherry trees.

And just like the blossoms, his time was fleeting but you were so completely unaware.

You left the library first, having forgotten that you had office hours with a professor. He watched you leave, eyes fixed onto your back.

Someone once said that you become miserable if you love someone too much. Yuta believed that to be true. There was a pang in his chest, heart racing against his rib cage as a stronger nausea attack hit him.

He gasped for air as his weakened stomach turned with sickness. Something was rising, working its way up his body. Yuta quickly slapped his hand over his lips as he hurled. Instead of bile, cherry blossom petals rained out of his mouth and into his palm.

He chuckled under his breath. Was it sad that he found beauty in his suffering?

Yuta thought himself to be crazy as he quickly shoved away the pain to begin sketching the petals in his hand.

For You in Full Bloom— what a nice name, you thought to yourself as you entered the shop with your friend Sicheng right behind you. The light ringing of the bell attached to the front entrance alerted the people at the counter of your presence. You picked up on harsh whispers before the tall male worker rushed to the back, forcing the young girl to assist you.

“Hi, welcome in!” the girl smiled brightly at you. “How can I help you today?”

Before you could reply, Sicheng stepped forward to answer, “Kira, we’re looking for Yuta— is he here?”

“Oh, Sicheng, hey! I didn’t even see you,” Kira exclaimed. “He’s, uh, not here right now.” Kira shot Sicheng a frustrated look, eyes darting to the back. Your companion sighed, done with his friend’s stupidity. You missed the quiet interaction, being too preoccupied with your surroundings.

“We’ll catch him another time then,” you answered her.

The small and quaint store was filled to the brim with flowers and your hands ghosted against the magnificent displays in the front window. The petals felt soft and the pleasing smells overwhelmed your senses in a good way. There was beauty all around you— there was no wonder why people loved visiting flower shops.

Various watercolor pieces were framed on the wall and you examined every artwork displayed. They were simple paintings of the plants that found a temporary home in the store. Some pieces were the flowers by themselves and others were of the many arrangements offered. They were vibrant, bright, and so incredibly detailed.

“I’ll tell him you stopped by,” she paused to ask for your name. You replied with a smile before turning back to take in the art.

“The paintings are a nice touch,” you commented, finally turning to look at her.

“Oh those? Yuta painted them,” Kira grinned, her body straightening up with pride. “He paints a lot when the shop is slow and my mom, the owner, loves to hang them up.”

“I should’ve known.” You took a closer look and spotted Yuta’s signature at the bottom of every picture.

“He’s very talented, isn’t he?” Kira hummed. Sicheng snorted for some unknown reason and you slapped his shoulder in response. There was nothing funny about Yuta’s skills and he knew that.

“Yeah, his skill is unmatched. I admire him for that.”

“Have you ever told him that?”

“God, no!”

“Why not?” Kira pressed. Sicheng joined in on the pressing and you moaned, an embarrassing heat creeping up your face,

“I don’t know. We talk but I find him to be a little intimidating,” you leaned against Sicheng’s shoulder and looped your arm through his. “I can’t just go up to him and fangirl over his work, can I?”

“But you want to,” he groaned. “And I’m tired of hearing you go on about it. Just tell him.”

A whine left your lips and you pinched your friend’s arm at the comment. He yelped and Kira just watched as the bickering continued.

“Yuta looks intimidating, yeah, but it’s just his resting bitch face, I promise. He’s just a softie,” Kira laughed and Sicheng agreed. “You should definitely tell him. He would love hearing it, especially from you.”

There was this knowing smile on both of their lips and it just seemed like they knew something you didn’t. You tugged on Sicheng’s arm as an attempt to ask him the florist meant by the last bit of her sentence and he tried to shrug you away. You just clung on tighter to your friend with a playful smile with Kira keeping a close eye on you.

You heard a cough come from the back of the store, causing both Sicheng and Kira to look up with concern. The coughing fit grew louder and louder, leaving Kira to excuse herself for a bit.

“If the other florist is sick, they should be at home resting,” you tutted with a frown.

“Some people are stubborn,” Sicheng threw back with a bit of distaste. Picking up on your friend’s bitterness, you wondered why he felt so strongly about it. You waved it off when a small display of sunflowers and red roses together captured your attention. Holding it in your hands, you admired how the two vibrant colors compliment each other.

Kira swung her way around the counter, “You like that bouquet?”

“It would be really pretty to paint,” you say, still spinning it around in awe.

“Yuta put it together himself yesterday, he’s pretty good at arrangements,” the florist beamed.

“What can’t he do?” you scoffed.

“Apparently, open his mouth and say what he needs to say,” Sicheng muttered beside you. Kira elbowed his stomach and he lurched over in pain.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Kira laughed nervously. She worked her way to you and gestured towards the flowers, “It’s yours, on the house.”

You rejected the offer right away. “Oh no, I couldn’t,” is what you reply, attempting to shove the arrangement into her hands. With a kind grin, she persisted for you to take it and just asked you to buy from them the next time you visited. “I’m sure Yuta would love it if you took this one off our hands.”

With a promise, you hesitantly accepted the bouquet. Sicheng was snickering in the background and you had to hold yourself back from whacking him with the flowers. Thinking you’d taken too much of the florist’s time, you quickly said your thanks and headed out the door with a coy Sicheng trailing behind you.

—🌸—

“They’re gone,” Kira yelled towards the back of the shop. Yuta made his way back to his spot at the cash register while wiping at his mouth with his uniform sleeve. He quickly pulled out his art supplies from underneath the counter, setting everything up to resume his painting. Taking a seat on the stool, his body was slumped over his makeshift desk as he messed with his pencils.

His coworker rolled her eyes at him as she began to work on a bouquet of blue cornflowers and daisies— good fortune and new beginnings. Her nimble hands hastily worked their magic with ease as if she’s done it a million times before. Yuta observed her, quickly sketching her hands at work.

“You’re ridiculous, I don’t get why you had to hide.”

“I didn’t want her to see me like this,” Yuta said, his pained eyes covered by the long bangs that drooped down over his sketchbook.

“Like what?” Her hands went to her hips. “Sick and hopelessly in love?”

“Yeah, let’s put it that way.”

“There’s a solution to this, you know,” Kira pressed with furrowed brows. “You don’t have to keep suffering.”

This. Hanahaki is what she meant— the disease of unrequited love.

“I’m fine, Kira,” Yuta hissed with a bit more annoyance than he intended to. She flinched at the tone but still pushed on when he coughed again. He felt the discomfort of something being lodged in his throat and his body had the urge to hack it out. Suddenly, he was leaning over the counter with cherry blossom petals littering the cash register.

Yuta practically hacked up a storm, body curling in pain. One hand was clutching his stomach while the other had a death grip on the edge of the counter. The dizziness returned and he felt lightheaded as the retching subsided. A weakness took over his athletic body and Kira rushed to assist him back onto the stool. There was a bottle of soothing eucalyptus oil sitting right on the counter and she scrambled to open it before shoving it under his nose.

“You’re obviously not fine. You need to go to the hospital to get checked,” she said as Yuta took the small bottle from her grip. He dabbed a couple of drops onto his hands and rubbed it on his nose and throat. “Why won’t you accept any help that’s offered to you at the hospital?”

“I’ve gone through this before, Kira. Don’t worry about me.”

“Sometimes you forget I’ve gone through this, too!” she yelled. “I don’t want you to end up on your deathbed like I was at one point.”

Yuta couldn’t argue with that. He was hired back when she was in the hospital recovering from the final stage of the dreaded disease.

“We’re all worried about you here. Mom, Jongin, Mark? And your friends— Sicheng, Ten, and Taeyong? We all hate seeing you like this!” her voice grew louder and louder with each word, causing him to flinch at the shrill tone. Deafening noises plus nausea and headaches never meshed well with him.

“You don’t see how much it hurts seeing someone you care about suffer like this, Yuta. It hurts even more when we can’t do anything to help you go through this.”

Silence filled the room.

“Have you seen Dr. Kim lately?” Dr. Junmyeon Kim was the Hanahaki specialist that Kira recommended. He eased her back into normalcy after her scare.

“I will soon, I promise,” he said through haggard breaths. She guided him through a couple of breathing exercises and it calmed his racing heart down.

Kira sighed. With a quieter tone, she said, “It’s a shame the world made us experience heartbreak this way, isn’t it?”

Yuta smiled sadly at her— it was a shame.

The front door of the shop opened and the bell rang. They both turned to see Kira’s boyfriend Mark walk in with a cute grin. He clumsily hopped over the counter to plant a sweet kiss on her cheek. “Well, at least you got your happy ending,” he muttered too low for his coworker to hear.

Yuta knew there was a chance of having it too, he was just too afraid to speak.

If one were to look at him at that moment, his features hid nothing. Nakamoto Yuta was slowly ripping at the seams with the sakura branches poking their way out of his built figure and although multiple options were given to him, he still felt so unbelievably helpless.

It was the middle of the semester when you caught Yuta wandering the halls of the main art building. A grin found its way to your lips as you saw him with his messenger bag and a tubed container slung over his shoulder. Running to catch up with him, you slipped your arm into his free one. Your classmate yelped at the sudden contact and you let out a loud giggled that echoed in the empty hallway.

You finally felt close enough to initiate contact after sharing supplies with him during one studio session. That being said, it didn’t mean you were comfortable with revealing the feelings you harbored towards him— you wanted to keep that a secret for a little bit longer.

“What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t have classes in here today,” you asked.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Yuta sighed. You felt your heart drop at his words but you played it off with a scrunch of the nose and a teasing tone.

“Were you expecting someone else, Nakamoto?” you nudged his stomach and he avoided it, already predicting your actions. Yuta held back another series of coughs, quick turning away from you to cough into the handkerchief always kept on hand. He looked in pain as he continued to hack into the small piece of cloth and you brought a comforting hand to rub at his back.

“Every time I see you, you’re coughing,” you frowned. “You really need to get yourself checked, it’s been months.”

“No, no, I promise you I’m fine,” he replied with the shake of the head, his dark hair moving along with him. Even when ruffled and out of sorts, he looked good. He attempted to clear his throat by downing some water.

Your lips pursed at his words, not satisfied with his dismissive answer. “If you say so. Promise me you’ll see someone if it gets worse though.”

He agreed but you suspected it was to stop you from nagging. “To answer your question before you went all mom on me, I was here to talk to the department about my senior project.”

“Have you decided on your theme for your exhibit yet?”

Yuta smiled wistfully, “Flowers.”

“Should’ve known— it’s always flowers with you. It’s like you’re in love with them or something.”

He let out a scoff at your words. When you shot him a questioning look, he dismissed the act completely.

Time spent with Yuta always passed so quickly; one moment you were on the top floor of the building and the next, you were already at the bottom of the staircase. Ever the gentleman, he held the front door open for you and you thanked him with a smile. His brown eyes shrunk into little slits and whiskers appeared at the corners as he grinned back with a little chuckle.

How you longed to sketch that image.

A strong breeze blew through, causing a couple of leaves and fallen petals to fly around your figures. You crossed your arms around your front to keep the cold from seeping in and shut your eyes to keep debris out. Peeking at Yuta, you saw him cover his eyes with a calloused hand and he gently pushed you behind him to use his body as a makeshift shield. As soon as the breeze stopped, his grip on your arm loosened but the grip he had on your heart was still as strong as ever.

He whirled around to make sure you were alright and next thing you knew, his hand was lingering above your head. “You have something in your hair, do you want me to take it out?”

Yuta looked down at you with cautious eyes and you just noticed how close you were. Heat radiated off his body and your cheeks as you nod in approval. One dry hand moved to delicately clutch the side of your head as the other plucked a leaf out of your hair.

Your breath hitched as his fingers ran against your skin and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. There was a sudden pounding in your ears that matched the drumming rhythm of your heart.

“There,” he whispered as he let you go. With a smile, Yuta added, “good as new and pretty as a picture.”

“Pretty enough to paint?” you fired back with sarcasm.

“Definitely worthy of being displayed for the world to see,” he winked.

Was he flirting? It seemed like he was.

Maybe, Sicheng was right— Yuta could have feelings for you. But it could also just be wishful thinking.

Were you flirting? Is this how flirting works?

“Speaking of displays,” Yuta started nervously as he walked you to your car. He slowed down his walking pace and you easily matched it, your steps moving in time with his. The main walkway on campus was devoid of people, seeing how it was later in the school day. The path from the art building to the lot you parked in was short and you wished there was some way to extend it so you could spend more time with him.

“Will you, uh, come to my show?” he asked, his hand scratching the back of his head. His hair flopped with the wind and his unsure grin made him look so incredibly endearing. “I know it’s still too early to give you a set date but I’d love to see you there.”

“What? Of course I’ll come!” you said, stopping to slap his arm.

He winced at the contact. “Ow?”

“I would’ve gone even if you didn’t ask me,” you proceeded on the path with a smile. “I have to go and support my friends.”

There was a coughing fit coming from behind you and you whirled around to see Yuta hacking into his handkerchief again. It looked more painful than the last attack he had a few minutes ago. His breathing was shallow and he clutched his chest as the coughs continued.

“Oh my god, Yuta!” You were pretty sure you heard him gag as you rubbed his back. “Okay, I’m taking you to the hospital. You’re clearly not alright.”

He lifted a hand to tell you to stop. “No, no. I’m fine. I just—I gotta go,” was all he said with his hoarse voice before jolting away.

Staring at his strong back as grew smaller and smaller, you almost missed the fallen piece of cloth on the ground. Keyword: almost.

“Wait, Yuta!” you shouted, bending down to pick it up. “You dropped your hanke—” As soon as you lifted the handkerchief, perfectly preserved cherry blossom petals fell out of its hold. They rained towards the ground, decorating the sidewalk with the prettiest shade of pink.

Yuta was long forgotten. You were too lost in your confusion of the flowers.

“Cherry blossoms?” you asked yourself. “They’re not in season yet.”

—🌸—

Yuta heard you calling for him but he refused to turn around. He pushed himself to keep running despite the tight pain in his chest. Pulling out his phone, he sent quick text messages to Sicheng and Kira with his location, asking them to stop by and help him. The disorientation hit faster this time, causing him to tumble into a bench. He gripped the iron lining as he hurled and for the first time, it was so painful that it brought tears to his eyes. His mouth trembled as he let out a cry.

Yuta tasted the bit of blood that poured out of his lips.

Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, Yuta ignored how the crimson stained the fabric. A butter chuckle escaped him.

“Pink goes good with red,” he whispered to himself as another stinging pain made its way up his body.

He felt the branches slowly poking his lungs, climbing a path up his chest. It was just as Kira described— it was piercing like a sharp arrow to the heart. The arrow pressed and pressed and pressed until he was exploding with petals, blood, sweat, and tears. It was aimed to kill. He thought arrows to the heart were supposed to fill him with love, not a heart-wrenching pain that tempted him to rip the beating organ out of his chest.

This was all too much to bear.

The full flowers and the scratching of wood tickling his throat.

The lack of oxygen and struggle for air.

He felt it all. He wished he didn’t.

Yuta wished he was one of the people that found their soulmate with that ridiculous red string of fate tied to the end of his pinky. They were blessed with a lifetime of happiness while he was cursed with what felt like an eternity of agony that his weakening body could no longer withstand.

Yuta knew you didn’t love him but he adored you anyway.

This wasn’t a shoujo manga, Yuta knew that. This was real life. No one was going to kiss, kiss, fall in love with the blink of an eye.

Picking petals off of flowers wouldn’t solve his problem. He wished it did, though.

If only it was that easy.

The rest of the semester flew by quickly with midterms and mid-semester projects keeping you at bay. You barely saw Yuta, yet alone the rest of your friends, if not for your classes. All of you shared the same appearance: dark circles, eye bags, sunken cheeks, hunched backs, and glazed over eyes. Your group survived the weeks with a crazy amount of caffeine and not enough food.

With the school year finally over and graduation season starting, that meant one thing for the college of fine arts at your university— exhibitions. The music and dance departments already had their concerts and showcases. Final showings of the theatre department’s newest production just wrapped up yesterday; the only thing left were the senior art exhibits.

Dressed to the nines and not at all like a struggling artist, you paced back and forth at the entrance of the student art gallery with a bouquet of irises in your hand. Sicheng, your emotional support for the day, stood as you walked the same path with annoyance. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint why you felt nervous— it wasn’t even your exhibit, it was Yuta’s.

Ten and Taeyong wrapped up their exhibits the week prior; Yuta’s was the last one.

“Are you done freaking out? Can we go in now?” Sicheng cocked a brow at you with his phone in hand. “The others are already inside.”

Wringing your hands together, you took in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Sicheng rolled his eyes before opening the doors to the gallery. Stepping inside, you were immediately welcomed by paper flowers of all sorts hanging from the ceiling and the quiet chatter of the gallery’s visitors. To the right, you saw a sign displaying the exhibit’s name: Efflorescence. A brief description of the exhibit was placed below it and you took the time to read it before stepping further in.

Snapshots of his life told through the appearance and language of flowers.

Ten and Taeyong, your seniors and close friends, were waiting for you off to the side.

“Sorry for the wait, you guys.”

Sicheng grumbled, “Took her long enough to calm down.”

Ten laughed, “Were you nervous for him? You weren’t like this for our final exhibits.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” Taeyong hushed the other two. Wrapping an arm around you, he pulled you close, “She’s nervous because this is her crush we’re talking about.”

“For heaven’s sake, say that any louder and he’ll hear you!” you screeched. The boys chuckled at your embarrassed state as you went ahead of them, ready to walk your way through the large room. From the corner of your eye, you saw Yuta smiling by the exit, surrounded by people singing praises about his work.

You weren’t in a rush— you wanted to take the time to appreciate every piece before talking to him about why he chose to display each work. Talking to the object of your affection could wait.

The first few paintings were of his childhood and the flowers that accompanied each scene all had similar meanings— innocence, purity, etc. You noticed that most of his paintings were done with watercolor, which made complete sense.

It seemed like he was always prepared to paint something, brush and paint always at the ready. The genius basically carried his foldable watercolor palette and pad everywhere he went, not wanting to miss an opportunity to paint a beautiful picture if he were to pass by one. That was another thing you admire about him— Nakamoto Yuta saw beauty in everything.

Deeper into the gallery, you found more familiar scenes and faces. There was a landscape of the fine arts department, with daffodil petals scattered across the canvas and it was titled New Beginnings. You passed various portraits of your friends, their beauty rivaling that of their birth flowers that shared the same space. Marveling at how realistic his paintings looked, you made a note in your brain to relay that thought to the artist later. He captured the essence of each person perfectly in a painting, breathing life into it, and you honestly couldn’t understand how one could do that.

Spotting Kira’s familiar face admiring a painting up ahead, you quickened your pace to catch up to her. Feeling the light tap you placed on her shoulder, she turned around with a surprised look that turned into a genuine smile upon seeing your face. She released her hold on her companion, a cute boy with doe eyes and bright smile, before giving you a hug.

“You’re here!” she squealed. Taking notice of the flowers in your hand, she winked, “Irises, huh? Nice touch.”

“I stopped by your shop beforehand looking for you and an older guy wrapped them up for me,” you smiled sheepishly. “Should’ve known you would be here and not working.”

“My brother, Jongin,” Kira said. “And of course, I wouldn't miss Yuta’s exhibit for the world. He’s done a lot for me and my family.” She shared a fond look with the boy next to her and he squeezed her hand in return.

“This is my boyfriend, Mark, by the way,” Kira gestured to the boy next to her.

“Yo, nice to meet you, dude,” Mark extended his arm out towards you and you gladly took in your hands to give it a shake. You laughed at his casual greeting; it was charming.

“Back at you, dude,” you giggled back.

Turning to take a peek at the picture they were admiring, you couldn’t help but break out into a wide grin. It was the two of them with the flower shop as their background. Yuta had painted Kira seated on top on the counter, eyes closed with glee and hands clutching a small bouquet of blue flowers. Mark, on the other hand, leaned towards her with fingers gripping the table top and looking at her with a loving smile.

You could feel the love pouring out of it and it warmed your lonely heart. “Wow,” you whispered.

Kira leaned her head on Mark’s shoulder and he placed a tiny kiss to her temple. “I’m buying it from him once this is all over,” she said.

Knowing each flower played a part in Yuta’s paintings, you tried to distinguish what flowers she clutched in her hand. “They’re cornflowers,” Mark answered the question that lingered in your head.

“Why cornflowers?”

“Oh those things put us through a lot— a little pain sprinkled in with their beauty,” Kira smiled, leaving Mark to chuckle lovingly at her comment. It felt like a secret between the two of them and you were invading in their space. “They were what got us together in the first place.”

Her sentence made you cock a brow. How could flowers be painful? That was awfully cryptic, even a little unsettling but it sounded a little familiar to you; it was on the tip of your tongue.

“Yeah, they’re pretty special,” the boy grinned, gaze still glued to the person wrapped under his arm. “Cornflowers are my favorite.”

“They’re starting to become one of mine, too,” she returned the look.

Mark’s bright brown eyes were shining with the love you wish someone had for you. It was a sweet sight, to see such a young couple in love. A part of you was jealous that they found a love like that so early in their lives while you pined after an artist that was so infatuated with flowers and their meanings.

Wanting to leave them in their moment, you excused yourself with a smile. There were only four paintings left to see.

The first was a design you recognized. It was a more detailed painting of the sketch you had seen Yuta draw on the first day of the semester. A girl was seated on the grass, leaning her back on a trunk of a cherry blossom tree. Her hands were outstretched to the sky, trying to catch the falling petals in her hand. Stealing a glance at the title, Yuta titled the piece, Wishful Thinking.

Moving to the next piece, it was a close up of Yuta’s hands. His palms were pressed together, cupping cherry blossoms in his hand. Petals and full flowers were scattered around the canvas, filling out all the empty spaces. The bright pink stood out against the color of his skin. You admired the amount of detail this piece had— the wrinkles on his skin, the gradient found on the petals. It held your interest, leaving you to wonder what this piece titled Inside meant to him.

Yuta’s self-portrait was showstopping. He borrowed the flower shop’s name, calling this piece For You in Full Bloom. The painting brilliantly depicted him in all white, his eyes closed with pain and hands clutching at his throat. The blossoms were spilling out of his mouth, the petals tainted with a blood red. You could feel the sadness and the suffering emitting from the picture and it pained you to see such a vulnerable depiction of him.

Putting two and two together, you figured it out.

Hanahaki. You had read about the disease before, one of the artists you admired had it. They created art as a way to tell their story. It was their escape from the suffering, a way to ease their pain, and the one course of action they took to be remembered after their death.

The only piece of information you lacked was who made him tolerate such pain.

Skipping the last painting of the exhibit, you made your way through the crowd to find Yuta. He stood at the end with a polite smile, thanking everyone who attended his exhibit. Onlookers were showering him with compliments, leaving you to wait until the small crowd cleared out.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” you breathed out with a concerned look. You couldn’t even spit out the name of the disease.

His smile widened into a genuine one, eyes gone soft at the sight of you. “You made it.”

Spotting the irises in your hand, he gestured towards the bouquet. “Are those for me?”

Still in shock that the person you were in love with was suffering all this time, you handed them to him without a word.

“Irises mean ‘congratulations,’ nice choice,” he laughed, trying to steer the topic away from his illness.

“Who?” you asked. “Who is it?”

Cocking his head, he answered you with another question. “You didn’t see the last one, did you?”

Shaking your head negatively, Yuta took you by the hand and the feeling made fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart was beating rapidly as he led you a few steps away. Nodding his head towards the last frame, he whispered, “Take a look.”

You felt his hand break out into a sweat and you wondered why this last one made him so nervous. Glancing at the title, you read the words Love Me Now.

Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself to see the person who had a hold on Yuta’s heart. Unlike him, you thought yourself strong enough to take the heartbreak— after all, you weren’t the one with flowers blooming inside you. Shifting your eyes over, you gasped as soon as you spotted whose face was framed on the wall.

Staring back at you was the most beautiful painting of yourself. It was a you that you had never seen before. He painted you in flourishing pastels to match the happy look on your face. He captured your smile lines, the curve of your eyes, and the scrunch of your nose in such detail; it amazed you beyond belief.

There was movement in your hair, the strands swaying in the wind along with the petals behind you. Your hands held a branch of your favorite flowers, half of them covering part of your face.

Captivated by seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes, you couldn’t tear your gaze away.

“Your smile makes flowers grow in my chest,” Yuta’s voice came from your side. You turned to see him wear a strained smile. Yuta’s huge eyes that were usually filled with kindness were taken over by something else— pain.

There was pain in his words and you hear the ache in his voice. His tone is hoarse, like his throat is unbelievably dry or irritated.

“I— I don’t know what to say.”

Everything was extremely overwhelming.

He shook his head to tell you that it was okay; he just needed to get the words off his chest. “It’s so beautiful and enchanting and it makes my heart clench and flowers take over my lungs.”

“Cherry blossoms,” you found yourself saying. You couldn’t believe this was happening. There were words you wanted to say but you were struggling to find them.

“Sakura,” he repeated in his native language.

“My favorite flowers.”

“Your favorite flowers.”

“You were never in love with flowers,” you stated, still in a state of shock.

Yuta released this low, almost bitter sounding chuckle that comes from deep within his chest. “Never.”

“Then, you’re in love with—”

“You.”

“—me.”

Just like the artist you admired, Yuta painted his way through his pain of loving you.

Nakamoto Yuta felt like he had been in love with you for the longest time. He had loved you before he could even muster the guts to let you know it, to invite you to this exhibit that displayed art dedicated to you.

He really hoped that you would show so he could take the chance to confess. Sure, you had promised but sometimes, people never intended to keep them. If he didn’t get it off his chest, he would never be able to breathe and Yuta desperately wanted to.

Yuta wanted to fill his lungs with breaths of fresh air and just breathe you in. That was all he longed for.

“Oh,” was all you could breathe out.

“It’s okay that you don’t feel the same,” Yuta tried to comfort you, getting the wrong idea from your lack of words. “I just needed to let you know.”

The sharpening ache that became so familiar to him was building up in his chest again, preparing him for the worst. Yuta swallowed thickly, already feeling the petals working their way to his mouth. His airways began restricting, his breaths growing more haggard by the second. He had so many things to say and he was determined to let it out before the petals escaped. The words spilled out his mouth, his lips running like a motor, “I used to be afraid of being in love and being happy with a person that I loved because it hurts.”

“Yuta—”

He stopped you with a lifted palm.

“Happiness never lasted with me, the flowers always ripped it away,” he explained, his trembling eyes focusing on your portrait and not the real person beside him.

“But then I met you and felt things I have never experienced before. So, I pushed my way through the pain just to be with you because I felt like I reached for the stars and touched the sky when we were together.”

His words brought tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe someone would sit through the pain just to spend time with you nor thought you were worth it but here Yuta was, proving you wrong.

“There were times I wanted to beg you to love me, just so the hurting and the bleeding—just everything— could stop but I was too much of a coward and it led me to this.”

Here he was, pouring his heart out to you with his images and words, and you couldn’t let out a single noise. You forced yourself to move forward, to slip your hand into his. The sensation of your fingers intertwining with his brought Yuta out of his daze to look at you.

“Yuta,” you said with trembling lips. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s not your fault,” he replied with a sullen tone. You squeezed his palm and he gave you a light one in return. “If I don’t get this off my chest now, I’ll never be able to breathe and I really want to.”

“There’s no reason for you to lose your breath over me.” A sniffle escaped you and Yuta turned to see you crying. He bent down to wipe your tears away, his finger swiping against your skin ever so gently.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because you suffered because of me and you didn’t have to,” you shot back with a whimper.

“You couldn’t have known, it’s okay,” he tried to reassure you.

“No, no,” you interrupted him to his confusion. “It’s not that.”

Your voice was so soft under your quivers, he could barely hear you over the loud chattering of the other guests in the room. Yuta guided you just outside his exhibit to a bench and dried your eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.

“What’s wrong?”

Yuta’s question made you laugh through your tears and at all the time wasted. He had been in pain for so long because he was yearning for you just as you were for him. The mutual yet silent pining took you down this route and it could have been avoided if you had just stopped being a coward and spoken up like Sicheng pushed you to.

“There’s nothing wrong,” you said with the dismissing wave. You willed yourself to look him in the eyes and bring a hand to his cheek. “It’s just that I think I’ve been in love with you as long as you have been in love with me.”

Your confession caused him to freeze in his seat. His brown eyes were blown out wide and mouth dropping in shock. Giggling as more tears fell, you quickly slide the hand cupping his cheek down to his jaw to shut his mouth closed. Running a thumb against his lips, you felt his pulse quickening at your touch.

“You’re in love with me?” he asked, voice as gentle as the breeze. There was uncertainty and disbelief behind it. Yuta wanted to hear you say it again.

—🌸—

“I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” Your earnest words were music to his ears.

He felt this comforting rush take over this body and it sent tingles down his spine, traveling all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. Your confession worked like magic, spelling him with this high that made him soar to the skies.

Yuta thought you were a witch, entrancing him with a love charm so strong that it brought instant relief to his pain. His heart was trying to fight its way out of his chest and the ache of his airways dulled. The muscle was pounding so loudly against his ribcage, he could hear it in his ears, and he swore you could hear it too.

His lips upturned into the biggest grin, he felt like his cheeks were about to burst.

Was this how a requited love felt? If it was, he never wanted to go without it again.

Yuta rushed to pull you in his arms and sighed when you nuzzled your head into his neck. He shivered when he felt them whisper the three words he longed to hear into his skin. His body shook with laughter as he placed a lingering kiss at the crown of your head, reveling at the feeling of you encased in his hold.

You tried to fight your way out of his grip but he only tightened his arms, not wanting to let you go. The action left you giggling into his neck, causing him to squirm until his hold loosened. Your hands trailed their way from his waist up to cup his face and suddenly, his eyes were locked onto yours. Just as you were getting lost in the deep sea of brown, his gaze flickered to your lips before looking back at you. His lips quirked up as you did the same.

He felt your breath hitch as he leaned in to slot his lips against yours and the overwhelming rush returned. It seemed like his heart was racing against time, beating erratically as you kissed him so tenderly. Your lips were so soft and they tasted like the vanilla flavoring of your color, leaving him to chase after you every time you pulled away for a breath.

Yuta fought the strain in his airways as he pursued your lips again and again, loving the way you felt and tasted. He picked up the smell of your cherry blossom shampoo and laughed into the kiss. The feeling of having you was so addicting— your love was his drug and he was forever hooked on you. He would devote himself to nothing else but you.

The sensation of Yuta kissing you and smiling against your lips sent you into overdrive. There were butterflies in your stomach, fireworks going off in your head, tingles down your spine and you loved it all.

In the past, you only noticed Nakamoto Yuta’s undying love and admiration for flowers but this was the first time you finally noticed his love for you and it was nothing short of wonderful.

It was the start of something new.

🌸 author’s note— that’s it! it came out a bit more angst than i intended, definitely lacked the fluff i was expecting but i’m still satisfied with the ending uwu i loved writing my little markie and kira in the fic, i’ve missed them! but yes!! that’s the end of my little bday present to myself! i hope y’all loved it! please leave some feedback; i would love to hear what you thought of it!! i think i literally fell in love with yuta while writing this.

🌸 taglist— @danishmiilk @hyunjins--laugh @littleflowercrown13 @orange-nimon-cross @radiorenjun @ncteaxhoe @chancrispy

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct angst #nct x reader #nakamoto yuta #yuta #yuta x reader #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #yuta fanfic #yuta fluff #yuta angst

969 notes · View notes

angelfics · 3 years ago

Text

Eternal

couple : optional bias

genre : Romantic, Angst

words: 1746

summary : everyone leaves but you need someone to walk the path with you

The beaming sunlight shined through the window, passing the white curtain and reaching the old dusty carpet. The dim room was lightened up with the flames of a lighter.You brought the lighter close to the cigarette between your lips.

When you lowered the lighter, your gaze fell on the boy next to you, you could only see his bare shoulders going up and down slowly under the blanket.

Memories from a few hours ago came to your mind, your naked bodies against each other, the kisses, and the sound of moans that filled the room. now you were lying on the bed next to him and playing with the lighter in your hand.

Was it the right decision? Kissing him back when he kissed you, was that right?

"I love you"

His voice echoed in your mind like the first alarm in the morning, it didn't let you sleep. You still remembered his face when he said these words, his determined eyes, his lips pressing together, his hands locked on the table in front of you.

"I love you"

It kept repeating over and over like a tape, bringing a vibration to your body.

Your best friend had said these words to you, he had kissed you, he had touched you.

You looked at the boy next to you whom you trusted more than anyone, was he the same guy as before? Now naked under the blanket, he bore no resemblance to your best friend.

His menly hands had touched your body, his body had become one with you, he had made you his own.

So what was this strange feeling you had inside? Cold from head to toe, a slight tremor, heaviness in your soul.

"I love you”

damn it! You heard his voice again. you closed your eyes and puffed the cigarette, the fading smoke rose up in the semi-dark room.

You have never felt this way before, he has always been a close friend to you, nothing more. But when he kissed your lips, you felt that you needed those lips as if they were oxygen, and that was your first mistake.

The second mistake was coming to this king sized bed, in his small suite with tainted walls and paintings covering every corner, from trees and animals to tangled and rough shapes of faces. They all kind of reminded you of your best friend.

Best friend? What exactly were you now? What would you do if he woke up and wanted you to leave his house and never come back? What if he didn't want you in his life anymore?

You could’nt stand it.

You got up from the bed to find a cigarette butt, walking in the cluttered room, you laid your eyes upon the sheets and paintings around you, an empty cup of coffee on his desk caught your eye, you walked over to it, shaking the ashes of the cigarette inside the half empty cup. You stood by the desk, the light shining in through the window and illuminating the table surface, the multitude of black pen drawings and sketches caught your attentio

He was always messy.

You smiled and put your hand on the surface of the paintings, picked them up to clean up the table, being careful not to wake him up. When the table was finally set, your eyes became acquainted with the small design sketch notebook, which you had bought for his birthday three years ago, he still had it?

You put the cigarette between your lips and picked up the sketch notebook to turn the pages.

You paused when you saw the familiar face in it, there was a sketch of your face on the first page, from the hairstyle and your clothes, you knew this was on his birthday, the day you bought him this present. you were looking at your phone aware of him drawing you.

You flipped through the rest of the pages, each of them was a sketch of you, picturing you while you were eating, driving, reading a book, smoking, all this time he had been painting you and you hadn’t noticed? Seeing these sketches was like seeing yourself through the eyes of someone else.

You looked at the last sketch, it was from two days ago. You went to karaoke together, it was only a silhouette, but could you sort out the smile on your face and your hands which held the microphone tightly. A faint smile appeared on your face, recalling the memories of that day.

You looked at the last page, it was blank, but yesterday’s date was written on it, the night he confessed to you, he wanted to draw you again? When ? while you were enjoying your favorite banana milkshake? Or when you were lying next to him completely naked?

"Oops, looks like I'm busted."

you jumped at the sound of his voice, you were so engrossed in the notebook that you didn't notice he had woken up.

You moved the cigarette from your lips and said, "What is this?"

He came forward and clung to you from behind, put his hands on both sides of the edge of the table, locking your body in his body.

"This is my idea of the world."

"These are all sketches from me"

"Exactly .. my world is you" you frowned confusedly and put the notebook on the table, then dropped the half-burnt cigarette in the coffee cup so that it would go out on its own.

You turned to him with a serious look on your face.

"What’s wrong?" he asked as his eyebrows furrowed

"What's gonna happen now? What are we going to do?"

He took a deep breath before answering, "It's up to you. I told you my feelings and I was honest with you. Now it's your turn to be honest with me."

"I was not prepared for this "

"Last night you seemed pretty prepared," he said. You pushed him away and threw your hands in frustration.

“I..I’m confused”

"You mean you don't want us to be together?"

"It's not that easy .. You're the only boy I trust if -"

"If What?" He took a step forward

"What if you leave me? Then who else do I have?"

"Why should I leave you?" He said softly and stepped closer.

"Because this is what people do .. they say they will be by your side until the end, but then they leave you" You looked away and stared at one of the paintings.

"I promise to try to stay with you forever, how is that?" You stared into his brown eyes, you knew he was right, but you couldn’t believe him.

People always leave, this life has proved it to you, your friends, your ex lovers, your mother ... they all leave one day and you are left alone.

You sighed and stepped back to sit on the bed, covering your face with both hands.

"I don’t want to lose you"

He knelt beside you, took your hands and brought them down.

"You are not going to lose me"

"You want me to be your girlfriend"

"Well we can be best friends who love each other"

You bit your lip and remained silent for a few moments.

"Why did you draw me?"

"Because I wanted to look at you when you're not around"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to draw the real you, the person you are when no one’s looking, you should fall in love with people in these moments, when they think no one's looking at them."

"Did you fall in love with me in those moments?" you asked, he nodded slowly.

You grabbed his hands, which were still around your wrists and squeezed them.

"Did you want to draw me yesterday too?"

"Yeah, I was waiting for you to fall asleep... I had never seen you like this before .. but man you wouldn’t sleep." You both laughed.

"Well .. do you still want to draw me?" You shrugged.

"draw you?" He raised his eyebrows

"Yeah, it’s the last page of the notebook? Don't you want me to pay attention to the painter in at least one of them?"

He smiled and nodded, stood up and went to the desk to pick up his notebook, while he was looking for his pencil and eraser. You quickly jumped to the other side of the bed and put on his T-shirt. He looked at you in surprise.

"If you are going to stare at me, I do not want to be naked." You just shrugged. He laughed and nodded.

He sat down on a desk chair and spread the notebook to begin with.

"What should I do?"

"I want to draw your face, so just smile" You nodded, took a deep breath and gave him the most beautiful smile you had. He started immediately, drawing lines on the blank page, raising his head from time to time to look at you. Each time your eyes met, your heart beat faster.

You looked at his calm face, his hand moving up and down quickly on the paper, his perfect body with the sun shining on his back, he was the greatest man you had ever seen. you thought about what had happened last night, you enjoyed it too, you wanted this too, now that you were sitting in front of him, there was not the slightest bit of regret in you.

People always leave, but only those who accompany you along the way matter, and he, as a close friend, has walked and accompanied you for a long time. If you were to trust someone, he was sitting right in front of you.

Finally he finished his work, straightened up and turned the notebook. Your eyes shined with excitement, seeing your face looking at you with a smile on the paper.

"this is great" you said excitedly. He laughed and stared at the painting "yes ..."

You had made your decision, you had to make a choice, you got up, went to him, took the notebook in your hand and put it on the desk.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you sat in his lap, he looked at you in surprise, you pressed your foreheads together

"I love you too,"you said.

His voice was still repeating in your head, but this time it was a pleasant lullaby telling you that the impossible is possible and that some people will stay with you forever.

#fic #fan fic #got7 #bts #imagine #nct #monsta x #bias #smut #angst #fiction #kpop #kpop fanfic

35 notes · View notes

sapphicscholar · 4 years ago

Text

2020 Fic Year-in-Review!

It has been ... a year (both for global/national and personal reasons). I did less writing than I had planned to. Didn’t finish those WIPs like I promised myself I would. But! I worked my butt off to be there 110% for my students, and I still managed to write words and new fics! (According to AO3, I came in just under 200,000 words written/posted this year, which is more than I expected and a nice little boost.)

With the whole “5 fics you’re proudest of” end-of-year meme going around (thanks for the heads up about it @chainofclovers!) and having been tagged at some point in a fic-in-review thing whose questions I’ve lost, I want to focus on being happy with some of the things I did! So, without further ado, 5 fics in chronological order of posting that I’m proud of!

1. Swipe Right for Soulmates - Supercat, T

In general, I really dislike soulmate AUs, and that’s putting it lightly. I’ve read a handful I adore; I’ve tried to write through my issues with the trope a few times; and this is perhaps my favorite of my attempts at playing with it! I got to do a few fun things with genre in this rival-CEO fic and write Cat and Kara into a rivals-to-friends-to-lovers arc, which I don’t think we get too often with this pairing. Anyway, it was fun and felt different, and it still makes me smile!

2. Your fav is in fandom series - one Supercat, M; one Sanvers, T

These two one-shots are meant as a kind of cracky love letter to fandom and the kinds of relational practices it can foster at its best. It came to be in the early weeks of the pandemic and lockdown in the US when, utterly unable to sleep one night (all the nights?!?), I turned to my wife at 1am and asked: “So...which one of the Supergirl characters would be the fandom asshole?” Originally there was meant to be a third fic feat. Lucy/Alura (Majorly Judging You) with my personal headcanon that Lucy organizes the big annual events like fic exchanges and ship weeks and that Alura takes the whole “thank your mods!” A/Ns very seriously, messaging Lucy each and every day of an event with personalized thank you notes that lead to a friendship, then more.

3. If you give an alien a syllabus... - General Danvers, G

Another love letter--this time to community colleges and the wonderful people who staff and attend them. This fic felt vital when I was writing it (there was a lot of stuff going on at my own university and many across the country that I was putting my job on the line to fight), and it was meant as a gift for a close friend who teaches at a local community college at a time when we couldn’t see each other in person. Even though I’ve only ever written a couple General Danvers fics, I quite enjoy fics about them (they were some of the earliest ones I ever read in the Supergirl tag!), and it’s always a lovely fandom to visit!

4. you showed me colors you know i can’t see with anyone else - Supercat, E

Despite being the only angsty thing I’ve written in quarantine when most of my fics have trended toward the cracky or the weird, I actually really enjoyed this smutty, feelings-heavy, years-later/post-breakup Supercat fic! I know that fic often shows some of the best of what life and love can be (which is awesome, even if I’m partial to messy characters who don’t do well with or think of themselves as deserving or wanting a neat happily ever after trajectory), but this felt a little gritty in ways that I personally like. It’s the aftermath of two complicated women coming together and shattering, showcasing all the messy emotions that remain when they start the process of picking those pieces back up and finding a new way to put them back together. Hilariously, I went into it envisioning something with a similar premise but lighter--essentially what would be a part 2 to this fic if I ever wrote it. It was meant to be about Cat and Kara after this initial moment of coming back together for the first time in years, seeing them sneak around almost like teenagers as they tried to keep this precious thing to themselves while they rekindled it and figured out what it could be away from the judgment of everyone who was there when they fell apart the first time.

5. Writing Retreats Are For Lovers - Supercat, M

Another AU! Well, Cat’s pretty much canon Cat, but featuring ABD PhD candidate Kara who meets her at a writing retreat as she tries to get the dissertation written and Cat finally gets a writing coach to help her through the worst case of writers’ block she’s had in years. It hit close to the heart and was very, very fun to write! I always have fun getting to bring characters into new settings to see what about them is integral to who they are and what is context-dependent, much like I’m intrigued by the different (and very similar!) ways relationship dynamics play out, especially early on, when the characters are in new settings and/or roles.

Honorable Mention: Queen of All Mediums - Supecat, G

It’s weird and quirky and a first foray into writing a historical AU based on a period I know so much--like, too much--about to start figuring out how to strike that balance between “what do people need to know for your fic?” vs. “what do you want people to know but honestly it won’t hurt their experience of the story if they don’t?” I have a very long nineteenth-century authors period piece all outlined, which I’ve debated trying to make original fiction or a Supercat fic. I don’t know where it’ll go, if anywhere, but it was nice getting to dip my toes into the historical romance genre here, even if it’s just a tiny little one-shot about spiritualism with a sprinkling of nineteenth-century class and gender politics in the US.

Theres a lot I could say about trends in my fic writing this year (so little angst! largely AU! no new WIPs!), but I won’t bore you all with my theories about why x or why not y. I wasn’t surprised by most of what I found looking through what I wrote, though I was shocked to find that I wrote only Supergirl pairings this year--a variety of pairings (only some of which appear on this list), but still. My writing and reading didn’t match up at all, and my random fic outlines and drafty drafts also include a much broader variety (some seeds of what was, at one point, to become a multi-chapter Grace/Frankie fic that I think I’ll need to ease into with a couple one-shots; several fully sketched out SwanQueen fics from binge-watching the whole series for the first time during the pandemic and having SO MANY thoughts about both the show’s promising notes and its many disappointments, as well as the fandom’s fabulous works; and a handful of notes about Dead to Me that are honestly closer to meta than fics proper anyway).

Honestly I’d love to see other people doing this! Consider yourself tagged, and feel free to tag me in your responses--I’d love to hear all about what writing you’re proud of!

#fic year in review #fanfic #fic meta #personal post #i have so many more thoughts #don't give an academic an open text box ever

19 notes · View notes

kxhlzn · 5 years ago

Text

[i.] the birdwatcher & his lover.

➳ synopsis: it's the summer of '89, and you discover new things about yourself— some good, and some you wish you could swallow and never see again. dealing with the newfound confusion of sexuality, you must learn the ins and outs of friendship and what it means to grow up.

➳ genre: coming-of-age drama, fluff, crack, angst, slow burn romance, lgbtq+ themes.

➳ characters/pairing(s): eventual stanley uris/reader (main couple), unrequited!beverly marsh/reader, eventual richie/eddie (possibly unrequited), eventual bev/ben.

➳ wordcount: 3.2k

➳ warnings: profanity, partial nudity (the lake), slight angst.

➳ song recs: "beverly" from the it soundtrack & "she" by dodie.

➳ author's notes: hi hi hi! this is my first fic on tumblr and honestly i'm a bit anxious about this bc i haven't written in ages lmfao. this is a series, so pls don't hesitate to send in asks and the like! nothing is set entirely into stone yet. please note! the characters are fifteen in this, and pennywise doesn't attack derry at all; so georgie is alive and well and chasing paper boats in the rain. richie & reader are both bisexual, ben & bev fall in love as kids. reader and bill are vv close but platonically.

June, 1989.

the first time you meet stanley uris, he is perched on a oak bench planted in the middle of derry park, his bruised knees pressed together in order to keep his journal steady. his chin is pointed to the heavens, eyes searching the clouds, a curious glow in them; cheeks dusted a light pink, he was angelic, the sun's rays a dull comparison to the golden glow of his messy curls. the boy had a nervous tick of tapping his pencil against the yellowed paper in his lap, followed by the curve of his brow when he noticed a bird flutter overheard.

you, at age eleven, were fascinated by him, and lacked a filter to save you from your mouth. it's almost as if the hinge of your jaw had lost a screw, and you feared if it hung open too long a fly might seek entrance there. of course, it would have been entirely avoidable if you hadn't sat your butt right next to him, and stuck your nose right where it didn't belong: in his journal.

"your handwriting is pretty, but your drawings can use some serious work. is that supposed to be a bird? it looks like it's having a heart attack," you had said, tilting your head, "the wings are too jagged and the legs too... sticky, you know? not like sticky like honey, but sticky like... you know, sticks? are you mute or something?"

your blank stare forces stanley's hand to shoot to the back of his neck as he tries to find the words to attend to all of your commentary. his mouth opens and closes a few times before you roll your eyes dramatically, slumping into the back of the bench. stanley clears his throat, eyes falling to the ground.

a silence ensues, and you glance from his crestfallen expression to the drawings. "and, uh, his eyes are buggy; they look like fat marbles. they're taking up his whole face."

stan releases a breathy laugh, and he raises an eyebrow at the graphite drawing in front of him. "they do, don't they?"

you mirror his laugh, and nod solemnly. "there's no saving them," you say, and decide to tell him your name, outstretching your hand proudly.

"stanley," the boy replies, meeting your grip and giving it a good shake. "uh, you know a lot about drawing. could you fix him?"

you hum, taking the journal from his lap and dropping it in your own. you tilt your head at the sketch, putting your chin in your hand. "it's going to be a tough job, but i think he'll survive. scalpel, sir?"

he hands you the yellow pencil, sharpened down half its original length. "anastesia? or uh," you inquire, not aware of how to spell or pronounce the word, "the stuff that doctors give people during surgery."

"anesthesia," stanley corrects, pulling a pink eraser from his pocket and giving it away.

"yeah, that," you bring the eraser down and the bird lines are soon gone, but the remnants of what was stays behind on the paper. "your lines are really hard. you've prolly got heavy hand, you know. but don't worry, i do too."

the next few minutes are in comfortable silence, save for your absent-minded humming. stanley leans over your shoulder, but not to the point of invading personal space, studying each pencil stroke gracing the journal. he makes a comment about the structure of the real-life bird, and you nod your head in agreement. the two of you synchronize nearly perfectly — you sketch what he tells you to. you aren't very observant to the outside world, but you focus on details in your drawings. stanley will mention that the creature has a stray mark on its beak, and you pencil it in without the graphite being too dramatic, which stanley is quick to do in his work.

after an hour of chatting and working, you are sitting on the back of the bench, feet placed comfortably on the seat. you are talking on and on about a story that happened during your english class, and you don't refrain a single detail. stanley listens intently, body slouched forward over his journal as he writes physical descriptions of the bird next to the drawing. he checks the time on his watch, and nearly jumps out of his seat. he swivels around, eyes blown wide, but you don't seem to notice as your arms wave about, mimicking a girl in your class.

stanley barks your name, which sounds sweet on his tongue, he realizes. when you focus on him curiously, he looks guilty. "i have to go. i was supposed to go to my friend's house so we could go to the quarry together. uh, unless you want to.. go?"

you grin, hopping onto the soil beside him. "for sure!" you hook your arm in his, and skip forward a few steps.

"wrong way," he says sheepishly.

you turn around, now exceedingly confident. "onward, steed!"

the next few years, up until freshman year, you are best friends with stanley uris and his gang of friends; bill denbrough, richie tozier, and eddie kaspbrak. bill was the kindest of all of them, a sensitive boy with a heart of gold. his love for art made him an easy companion, and you grew very close the summer of 7th grade, spending many hours a week at his house simply talking and making art. his little brother is like your favorite person, the little squirt constantly bugging bill about when he'll see you again, and telling bill he likes you better because you'll play with him.

eddie is a mother hen to you, warning you about the dangers you put yourself in on a daily basis. you are more reckless than the other boys, so it's common to see eddie turn an ugly shade of purple when he witnesses you do something exceedingly ignorant. with your asthma, he can relate to you, but you personally believe the inhalers you have are pointless and there's no need to rely on them, but eddie disagrees. when he takes a puff from his emergency inhaler, which is more of a daily one, he tends to shove one in your mouth too for simple sake of anxiety. you've found that he calms down when you play with his hair or give his scalp a light scratch, his voice lost in the serenity of it all.

ah, richie tozier; you two are scarily similar, and everyone is aware of it. he's of course referred to as "trashmouth", and you're known as "loudmouth", as richie has a tendency to speak inappropriate things, and you just keep speaking and can't properly whisper to save your life. a major difference between the two of you is your vulnerability, naiveness, and positive charisma. his talkativeness is characterized by sarcasm and the "class clown" stereotype, while yours relies more on really just being a chatterbox, whose thoughts spill out at rapid speeds without being filtered by your brain. fortunately, it's easier to make friends this way, and you tend to be the ice-breaker of your friends. richie, personally, admires this about you and thinks of you as an "innocent little ball of sunshine", and likes to put his arm on your head to show his dominance.

your relationship with stanley uris is a bit complicated; of course, at first, it was unproblematic being friends with him, as you were easy opposites. you spoke into the space that he was too quiet to fill, and it was comfortable for the both of you; you got to speak your mind without interruption, and stanley was able to have company that didn't force him to interact gregariously. however, as you grew with time, he found your carelessness to be irritating, as he hated feeling he had to be anxious all of the time; stanley enjoys turning his alarm off, and running on low function, and he thinks it is hard to do that when you're jumping off cliffs, climbing on slippery rocks with your eyes covered, and provoking bullies three years older than you. he finds you irrational and childlike, which is difficult for him to grasp as an inherently strategic and analytical person. you are a glass half full, and he is glass half empty. he prefers to consider the consequences, and you have a tendency to wait to find them out after you commit the deed. he has his future planned, and you want to live in the moment; you enjoy surprises, new opportunities, as there is something entirely boring about being sure what you plan to do each day. sometimes, you believe stanley wakes early, dresses in the outfit he put aside the night before, and takes a seat to write down a schedule. you shiver at the thought. unfortunately, the disagreements put tension on your friendship, as hanging out periodically ends with an argument, and one of you stomping out to rant to one of the others. you sincerely care for each other, but also find each other extremely irritating when the situation calls for it; which is becoming increasingly habitual as you grow taller with age.

but you also find him to be beautiful.

you're fifteen when you properly meet ben hanscom, beverly marsh, and mike hanlon. it's also the first time you felt something strike deep in your gut for that particular redheaded girl, and the way her newly chopped locks curled at the ends. she had tucked your hair behind your ear as you wrestled with the button on your overall shorts, and took your hands in hers, pushing them aside so she could slip the button through the hole properly. she was so graceful, elegant even, in the way she held herself. that day, you labeled the twist of your insides as insecurity, nothing else.

it was a mix of many things, you realized a long time after. insecurity, deep-rooted sexual confusion, and jealousy.

beverly is the first to jump off the cliff and into the lake below. after aiding you in your clothing disaster, she slips her creamy overdress from her shoulders, and gives her arms a good shake. she departs with a glance back at you, the sun beating down on her hair like fiery red flames, and her icy eyes contrasting its intensity. suddenly, you feel so small; so plain. before she could see your lip quiver, she was in the air, high like an angel, before falling towards the murky waters.

the stars in bill and ben's eyes, and the admiration in the rest of theirs, erupt a cacophony for you, striking your heart like a harsh note: these aren't your boys anymore.

bill jumps next, and then the others, eddie last. the splash sends spikes in your spine, but it's a warm hand on your shoulder that kick-starts your body. sandy curls appear in front of your face, tilting to reveal the kind eyes of stanley uris. his mouth is shaped in a firm line, a bit disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm. he seems to be at war with himself.

he stays silent for a moment, eyes searching the sky for the right words. "i want to go last," he finally breathes, seemingly triumphed in his verbiage, "i don't want them to see me cross my fingers behind my back before i go."

you laugh softly, relieved. you are grateful knowing he wasn't going to pry in your hesitation, or your brief self-consciousness. even when the two of you bicker, you hold high respect for stan; he's a boy of few words. he isn't shy, and certainly isn't bashful; he simply chooses to speak sparingly, believing that the chattiest voices aren't always loudest. he doesn't word vomit to fill the silence; that is how you know his words are meticulously chosen, like pieces to a greater puzzle.

stanley's thin frame makes no unnecessary movements, but rather awaits yours. his hand has long since abandoned your shoulder, and rather is cuffing his other calmly in front of his hips. the lack of speech isn't menacing or awkward, but instead a bit comforting; it gives you adequate time to finish undressing, tossing aside your socks and shoes. you pull the loose scrunchie from your hair, and give yourself a silent nod in reassurance.

"promise not to tell?" stan says quietly when he's sure you're more stable, curious eyes searching for yours.

"pinky promise," you insist, holding up the smallest finger on your right hand. when his wraps around yours, you toss him a childlike grin. "i never break them."

and then you're gone, cascading down towards the green waters, each wave crystalizing in your descent.

"i know," stanley whispers to himself. little do you know, he has the same epiphany you had just seconds ago, aweing after beverly.

he crosses his fingers behind his back, and steps off the cliff's edge.

air reaches your lungs when you pull your head above the surface, and you gather your sopping hair from your skin, laying it against your neck. you face the sky, and stan's dive is a flash of gold: like a bird, graceful in it's dip, his curls like its wings.

you find yourself wanting to ask him what it's like to fly.

—

on a boiling day in the middle of june, you and the others spend a day in the quarry again, but instead have a picnic by the rocks rather than racing back into town for a snack at eddie's house. it was mike's idea; he hadn't told anyone until he showed up early that day, sweaty and beaming with a quaint basket and blanket tucked under his arm. you felt a bit guilty, honestly— you wish he would've told you so you all could pitch in.

he seemed ecstatic, though, setting it up, so you couldn't bring yourself to mention that.

beverly says she wants to sunbathe with you, so you agree with hot cheeks and position yourself awkwardly next to her, posture straight with your knees tucked under your arms. your stiffness goes unnoticed by her, thankfully, so you're able to admire her form in peace as she stretches her limbs out with a soft sigh. compared to her, you feel unbearably rigged, unbearably not feminine. a thought crosses your mind that her own feminity outshines yours so much that the boys must think of you as one of them, minus the third leg, and with twin petals blossoming on your chest.

the boys are curled around their usual spots, the multiple boulders a few feet from your seated position, chatting carelessly. mike is discluded, lost in preparing the perfect picnic for you all. perhaps if you had noticed the simplicity of it all, you wouldn't have blurted out something ignorant to force a tension in the summer air.

"do you guys think i'm pretty?"

the conversation drops briefly, takes a soft roar, and then entirely ceases as seven pairs of eyes draw to you, including mike and beverly. the red-haired girl has a smirk on her lips, tilting her head ever so slightly as if to test your patience and purpose.

bill clears his throat gently. "u-um, well, yeah of c-course.. w-why wouldn't w-we?"

you shrug nonchalantly, and the others eyeball each other, pleading for another to say something else. eddie and ben slyly play rock paper scissors for a sacrifice.

richie whistles lowly. "this is gonna be good."

your face's temperature soon begins to rival the sun as your breath hitches in your throat, attention turned directly on beverly, as though her presence might calm your nerves. it doesn't. your lower lip is caught between your teeth, as you grow progressively more embarrassed of yourself the longer the others stare.

beverly smiles gently, her intensely blue eyes never straying from yours. "i think you're the prettiest girl in the world."

you sputter suddenly, adjusting your aviators, and spill out something along the lines of "i have to go take a piss", and skitter off in the direction of the woods. you curse yourself the entire way.

richie laughs, breaking the tension. he pats stanley's bare back roughly as the lanky boy stares at the trees you disappeared behind. "and the hits just keep on coming."

"beep beep, richie," eddie scolds, and richie winks at him, suggestively nodding towards him. eddie rolls his eyes and his gaze drops to his feet.

"sandwiches, anyone?" mike whimpers, a lopsided grin as he holds up a loaf of bread. stanley gently pushes past him and disappears into the brush.

"well, i, for one, would like three," richie replies, slapping his thighs as he stands.

eddie mumbles a word or two about richie being "as selfish as ever", and makes his way to mike also. beverly is a bit quiet, and bill chooses to sit beside her; his hands fall to his knees, rubbing them subconsciously.

"u-um, you didn't do a-anything wrong," he says, aware of the deep concentration beverly has. he can usually tell when everyone is upset or has something on their mind. "she's j-just been a l-little self conscious lately."

"please," beverly whispers, lifting her head to the sky, "i can tell she's been different around me. i must have said something to offend her. i should apologize—"

beverly pulls herself up, dusts off her legs, and is yanked down by bill's shaky hand.

"d-d-don't—" when the girl steadies, he continues, "let them b-b-be. if y-you really did s-something to h-hurt her, s-s-stanley will f-find out. trust him."

the greenery is exceedingly massive— miles and miles of towering woodland, filtering in streams of sunlight, rocky terrain around every trunk. you find yourself breathing heavily while seated on a boulder that is tucked away behind a ledge, facing the opposite way of the opening that your friends are at. elbows pressed into your knees, you put your face in your hands.

the air is tightening around your throat, and your uneven breaths become wheezes. you fist your hair in frustration, and smooth it down seconds after. this turns into a cycle, as you calm your wild nerves. fuck. are you allowed to think of her like that? you inhale deeply, the scent of soil filling your senses.

twigs crack in the distance, rapidly approaching feet obliterating the silence that has so graciously aided you in your toxic thoughts. you run your hands through your hair, and then fist a handful at the scalp. you smooth it out tenderly. when the footsteps are extremely close, slow down their pace, and stop entirely, you squeeze your eyes shut.

"go the fuck away, bill, i don't need your lect—" you bark, waving him away, but are cut off by long arms wrapping around your neck. your anxiety washes away, but you make no effort to embrace them in turn. your hands become fists, with no fabric of a shirt to grasp. you don't notice the tears racing down your face until your eyes and cheeks burn furiously, and your throat is caught up in sobs. when you peek, the sight of stanley's dusty curls in your peripheral sends waves of numbness and comfort over your skin.

your thoughts become hazy once you've lain your head against the bone of stanley's bare shoulder, and you feel a weight on your body lift from you— and transfer to him.

you swear you can hear faint whispering, voice cracked and vulnerable: "it's okay, it's okay, it's okay."

the part that leaves you aching for days in the future, is that you're not sure he was talking to you.

➳ i hope you liked it! it's a bit short but idc cuz i'm tired.

#it #the losers club #stephen king #it 2017 #stan uris #stanley uris #stanley uris x reader #losers club x reader #beverly marsh x reader #it fanfiction #stanley uris imagine #beverly marsh imagine #kassie writes #BW

183 notes · View notes

novarainart · 7 years ago

Note

Prompt: Beast!Loki and Beauty!Tony. Demigod Loki and Sir Anthony are lovers for years, but something really bad happened and Tony is dying, Loki makes a deal with evil to save Tony. Jarvis, dum-e, butterfinger and U and Friday stay with Loki and waiting for Tony. Tony is reborned in Stark's family and forget everything. Tony wants to save his mom Maria, makes a deal with Loki. Fall in love again. Idiots in love. Possessive and pining Loki. No power Tony. HE.

Hello, anon! This is the first time someone sent me a detailed prompt like this and I wasn’t sure what to do at first (I honestly thought it was sent to me by mistake? might still be?) because I’m not a fic writer, but I’ve seen other bloggers respond with doodles. So here are some messy FI sketches I managed to whip up. I might ink these in the future, depending on time, but I’ll be sure to post on tumblr if I do.

Distraught Loki desperately clutching at Anthony as he passes away in the demigod’s arms. Undecided if it’s because of illness or becoming mortally wounded from an antagonist wanting to hurt Loki. *Not good with clothes, so…uh, don’t ask me what sort of frilled monstrosity Anthony is wearing lol xD

Reborn Tony falling back in love with a cursed Loki, who has always and will forever love his mortal. Loki’s look is based on frost giant Loki in Avengers Academy without the furred ruff.

Again, sorry for the mess, but I hope whoever sent the prompt enjoyed this bit of FI angst and fluff :D

Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost! :D

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/novarain

Livestream: https://www.twitch.tv/novarainart

*Commissions are open for anyone interested :3

#messy doodles #sketches #loki #tony stark #frostiron #fanart #prompt fill #anonymous prompt

204 notes · View notes

sussensecret · 7 years ago

Text

⋆✺jungkook fic recs✺⋆

smut: ♡ fluff: ☼ angst: ☆

a list of our favorite jungkook fan fics. enjoy !

masterlist of all masterlist

Heart of the City - jungkxook ♡ ☼ (DOESNT WORK) Spiderman!Jungkook Summary: The responsibility that comes with putting on the red mask each night is followed by even greater risks for the people Jungkook is around. Telling you the truth could only end in one way but how long can he go before you figure out his little secret?

Irresistibile - jungkxook ♡ ☼ (IT WORKS!!!!!!!!!!) College au Summary: The start of your freshman year of college, you have the utmost unlikely of tragedies to both meet Jeon Jungkook and fall into a deep, utterly helpless, and tenacious hatred for him.

Melomaniac - jungkxook ♡ (DOESNT WORK) Punk!Jungkook but also Prep!Jungkook Summary: “Your mother had always warned you about boys in ripped jeans and messy hair but she never warned you about boys like Jeon Jungkook.”

Hiraeth - jungkxook ☆ ♡ | 14 part series (DOESNT WORK) Zombie apocalypse au Summary: A world full of dwindling hope and lost loves and yet you and Jungkook are all the other needs to feel at home.

Just for Tonight - jungkxook ♡ ☼ (IT WORKS!!!!!!!!!!) Summary: Jungkook plans on getting into the annual secret underground party for his birthday and you can’t help but tag along.

Exchanges - workoftheaguk ♡ ☼ Spiderman!Jungkook Summary: In which Jeon Jungkook is that friendly neighborhood superhero, you’re the face in the hallway that saved his high school career, and he can’t ever seem to get a grip around you. Even when he makes you scream after a fated accident—not for the reason you may be thinking; get the thought out of your head!

After care - jungblue ♡ Slytherin!Jungkook Summary: When Jungkook gets hurt during a quidditch game, and you want to give him a little extra attention afterwards.

Proposals - pjxmin ♡☼☆ Friends to lovers au Summary: You and Jeongguk propose at restaurants to get free food, but somewhere along the way you start to fall for him

In Bloom - tayegi ♡ Werewolf!jungkook

Roommates - tayegi ♡☼☆ | 3 part series Roommate!jungkook

Zipper - jiminniemouse ♡ Bestfriend au Summary: Your best friend thinks it’s a good idea to watch porn together, he’s dumb.

Accio - minsvga ♡☼ Harry Potter au Summary: A food fight broke out in the middle of dinner one night. And, needless to say, being Prefects, you and Jeon Jungkook stepped up and stopped the fight - but also found yourselves covered in dungbomb residue and food afterwards. Also, there was an issue. There was only one Prefects’ bathroom…

Try-Hard - hobibliophile ♡ ☼ | 2 part series Rugby!Jungkook Summary: Yoongi asks you to help him photograph the university rugby team, and you’re reluctant until you see Jeon Jungkook in uniform. Damn.

Lock the Door - monstaccato ♡ Summary: In hindsight, maybe you weren’t that sorry for not locking the door.

Jasmine - btssmutgalore ♡

Winner Takes All - parkjammins ♡☼☆ Volleyball!Jungkook Summary: Jeon Jungkook chooses volleyball out of all the sports only because he loves flying in the air and making it impossible for his opponents to bring back up the ball with his power spike (and maybe it’s because he also wants to get inside your pants).

New Rules - tayegi ♡☼☆ | 9 part series on going Fratboy!Jungkook Summary: there isn’t a summary, BUT THIS IS HONESTLY MY FAVORITE FIC EVER

Blue Orchirds - inktae ☆☼ Hanahaki & soulmate au

Givenchy & Gold - promixity ♡ | 2 part series Summary: you’re the supervisor of the clothing department with a lot of useless lingerie knowledge, jungkook is the jewelry department’s defiant hot boy who flirts in wristwatch brands. basically an upscale retail au, but with lots of implied under-the-counter sex. and when an opportunity presents itself to fuck each other in the boss’s office after hours, you’re both too hot for each other to say no.

Fall For You - kimvtae ♡ | 3 part series College au Summary: You hate a lot of things about Jeon Jungkook; you hate his arrogance, his reputation, and his pet name for you to name a few. But most of all, you hate how right it feels for you to fall into his arms, and how easy it is to fall for him.

Stuffed Pumpkin - floralseokjin ♡☼ Summary: Hooking up with the guy you’re neutral towards isn’t how you expected your night to go, especially dressed as a pumpkin…

Playing with Fire - floralseokjin ♡ Summary: jungkook seems to have a little crush on you, and no matter how much you try to ignore it, you seem to be losing your resolve with each passing day…

Sketch - moonscriptx ♡☼ Summary: After sixteen years of dreaming about the same unknown beautiful girl, Jungkook finally gets to put a name to her face – and she’s so much more than what he’s dreamt of.

The Wedding Planners - gukyi ☼ Enemies to lover!au, wedding!au Summary: jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding.

Break The Ice - mint-tape ♡☼☆ Hockeyplayer!Jungkook, Hockeyplayer!Jimin Summary: There are three rules to become an official Puck Bunny: 1. You have to love hockey. No exceptions. 2. You have to had slept with at least three hockey players. Starters, no benchwarmers. 3. And most importantly, have fun!

Morning Rush - atdawnsuga ♡ College au Summary: You develop a strange relationship with the boy you share your morning commute with.

Two Rotten Apples - chickenkooks ♡☆ | 4 part series on going Summary: we’re next-door neighbors and have hated each other since middle school but now we’re going to the same university how can we avoid the other person like the plague so there isn’t a crime scene— what do you mean you promised my mom you would keep an eye on me???? you fucking planned this

Not So Honest - wonhopes ♡ Roommate au Summary: Jungkook has got a pretty big problem, and he desperately asks you for your help.

I Think We Need To Talk - freehoseoksdick ♡☼ Summary: “i think we need to talk.” + “friends don’t get each other off”

Just Friends - kinkjungkook ♡☼☆ Best Friends au Summary: Jeon Jungkook was many things. He was an asshole, a tease, and kind of an inconsiderate roommate. But most of all, he’s your best friend, and has been since you were 10. When he suddenly confesses his attraction to you and proposes sleeping together, you are smart enough to turn him down. You knew Jungkook; you knew how he moved from one girl to the next. You, too, were many things, but just another notch in Jungkook’s belt was something you’d never be.

Amour Chassé Croisé - jungnoir ☆☼ Ladybug au Summary: by day, you’re just a normal teenager in love with a popular model that goes to your school, jeon jungkook. but by night? you protect the city of paris under the alias ladybug, assisted by the ever elusive, ever anonymous, and ever so flirtatious, chat noir. you’ve always wondered who chat noir really is under the mask, but he may just be closer than you think.

Take What’s Yours (And Stay) - kidguk ♡☼☆ Summary: Friends to lovers to strangers is how it usually goes, but you and Jeon Jungkook have revisited each of those steps a few too many times over the past five years (aka the Jungkook college au with mutual pining, high school flashbacks, friends to lovers?, strangers to lovers?, who even knows?, and many shy & awkward moments that nobody asked for - enjoy).

Doxology - jeonjagiya ♡ Summary: You and a fellow churchgoer spend Easter Sunday sinning and sharing a secret. THIS WAS SO HOT AND WILD WHAT THE FUCK

The Nudist and The Prudist - gxtsmxt ♡ Summary: ❛❛ i saw you naked on your porch but jesus christ is my friend so i was hoping i would never see you again but here you are go away hot person❜❜ AU

Wildflowers - fireheart-namjoon ♡☼ Faerie au Summary: He’s gentle, each touch lingering as if he’s mapping each curve and dip of your body to memory. You lock your arms around his shoulders and slot your mouth against his, the press of his lips soft and warm. The kisses are slow, a languid glide that steals your breath gradually until your lungs ache with the need for air and your mind is fuzzy with desire.

Vaunt - yminie ♡ fratboy!jungkook Summary: Every weekend Beta Tau throws a ‘little’ party to help students relax and let loose and frat resident Jungkook has a big mouth that talks a lot of big game. You finally get sick of the lack of relaxation on your end and set out to see if he’s all talk.

Gold Rush - nochugguk ♡☼ trackrunner!jungkook also a college au Summary: freshman Jungkook comes to you with an injured shoulder and a very concerning proposal

Secrets of silk - nochugguk ♡ ☆ ☼ | 3 part series camboy!jungkook also a college au Summary: when a dreamy camboy turns up at your university wearing bruises of yesterday, your guilty indulgence manifests into a racy obsession.

Blue isn’t for you - kidguk ♡☼ fratboy!jungkook Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of ‘new’ for you and, without a doubt, the strangest frat boy you’ve ever met.

Banter - littlemisskookie ♡ ☆ ☼ Superhero!Jungkook, Supervillain!Reader, also roommate au Summary: Ironically, some of your best moments are with your archnemesis, the man who you literally fight every other day. But the two of you might be closer than you originally thought.

The Devil’s Change Up - jungblue ♡☼ College au, baseball au Summary: Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better.

Sugar-Coated - guksheart ♡☼ Bakery au, neighbor au Summary: jeon jungkook, aspiring singer, works at a bakery with nothing but cupcakes and satisfied customers to occupy his time. one day, his next-door neighbor strolls into the shop with tears in her eyes, and his heart cannot help but worry why

The Underwear Thief - gukyi ♡☼ Neighbors au Summary: Jeon Jungkook would like to make one thing very clear: it’s not his fault. Like every imperfect, morally flawed human being, Jeon Jungkook doesn’t like admitting things that are his fault are his fault. It’s in human nature to find some other explanation, point at a scapegoat that doesn’t have your name stamped anywhere near it. Like when he blames the fact that he missed the online quiz that was due at midnight on how he didn’t expect for the new episode of Orange is the New Black to be that long, even though they’re all practically the same length and he just has poor time management skills. Or when he accidentally takes the last of the soda in Jimin’s fridge and then proceeds to call Taehyung out for it so as to avoid the Park Wrath. Or when he shatters his phone screen and blames it on his faulty coat pockets rather than his carelessness, or when the knob for the cold water in the kitchen sink breaks off as a result of “poor plumbing” rather than his inability to control his random bouts of strength. Jungkook doesn’t like taking blame. But he swears, this time, it’s really not his fault.

Euphoria - 94hixtape ♡☼ ft jimiiiiiinnnnn, college au Summary: there isnt one, but a niceeeeee threesome for yall

Set On You - bymoonchild ♡☼ college au, volleyball au Summary: Sports has never been your thing, so when you find yourself in a sports hall that reeks of perspiration and cologne and in front of a group of volleyball players whom you’re supposed to be managing (heck, you can’t even manage your own life), you know that you’re in Deep Shit™. Especially when Jeon Jungkook, the golden setter of the team aka the boy who holds stars in his eyes, starts to occupy your reveries, slowly becoming both the quiet and pandemonium of your heart.

we will be adding more to this list, as time goes by !

412 notes · View notes