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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years

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Don’t Worry, Darling (one-shot)

Synopsis: Falling in love with a co-star is something that can hurt, especially when it seems like they’re talking to other people behind your back, but falling in love with a co-star and being unable to help when they’re sick, is even worse.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: COVID-19, sickness, swearing, SMUT (fingering, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

Word count: 11 968 (yoikes)

Please note I’m not trying to make light of the pandemic or the virus and those impacted by it. It’s a very real and serious thing, which is why I decided to use it. Please stay safe and healthy, follow the local health guidelines and if you have the ability please get vaccinated. Let’s keep ourselves and one another safe, frens :)

When Y/N got the call she’d gotten the role of Jack’s ex-wife who’d disappeared in mysterious circumstances, she was over the moon. As a Marvel alumnus, she was excited to work with Florence, as she’d loved Midsommar, and knowing she was going to be one of the new faces carrying the next Marvel chapter, she wanted to get to know her. Having played Tony Stark’s adopted daughter since the age of six, she was very protective of the franchise but was excited to see where it’d go.

Then Shia LaBeouf, Chris Pine as well with Dakota Johnson’s announcements coming soon after, Y/N got even more stoked, and with Olivia Wilde leading all of them, she was sure the movie would be a hit.

Shia and Dakota had to drop out due to scheduling issues (which Y/N couldn’t lie – she was kind of happy Shia couldn’t do it), and that's where Harry Styles took over the role of Jack with Kiki Layne Dakota’s Margaret.

Now, when Y/N had seen Harry’s picture next to the re-cast e-mail the whole production had been sent out, she might’ve had a little (a massive, like a ginormous) freak-out. As much as she’d grown up listening to classic rock, due to Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man, she’d been an avid One Direction fan. Like to the point, it might even seem a bit creepy. Y/N had sort of grown out of the obsessive phase of it all, but most definitely admired the solo albums they’d been able to produce, and when Dunkirk came out, she was excited to see Harry join the acting world, with the amount of talent he had.

The first table read was sort of awkward, and definitely the weirdest one, given how a pandemic had started, and everyone was at their respective homes using Zoom.

Y/N and Florence had been the first to join the conversation about half an hour before the official beginning, and by the time everyone else did, they were crying from laughter and had to excuse themselves from their computers to collect whatever remaining composure they had.

“You two alright?” Oliva Wilde had raised her eyebrow, as the women re-joined, still chuckling. “Will we have to use body doubles for the scenes you two are in?”

“No!

“Nohooo!” both of them yelled through laughter. “We’ll be as professional as professionals are. Which is very professional.”

Then Y/N made the mistake of glancing at Florence’s square, and the two busted out laughing again, spewing apologies in between, but no one seemed to really mind. In fact, it looked like they appreciated how casual and open everyone was being, hoping the set wouldn’t be stiff either when they moved onto filming.

And for the two women, it wasn’t really. Actually, they grew closer than ever. The amount of time Florence spent in Y/N’s trailer was to the point that the two started to talk about just moving in together. After scouring the nearby apartments for rent, they settled on a three-bedroom apartment, as two-bedroom ones were non-existent.

When Harry grew closer to them as well, given how he spent quite some time with both women, they suggested he move in as well.

“You know, what? I changed my mind. You’re taking away our closet, and I don't like that,” Y/N pouted, watching as Florence lifted a pile of her clothes and moved it to her room. “That’s not very ‘treat people with kindness’ of you.”

All he did was flick a finger at her forehead, which Y/N swatted away with a smile. When he’d double-checked about moving in with them (which, mind you was the seventh time, and half his stuff was already there), the two women were ecstatic. They got along amazingly on set and basically having a sleepover with friends every night suited all of them quite well.

At that moment, Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed, knitting while Harry painted all of their toes and Florence put on facemasks.

“Wine!” Y/N suddenly exclaimed, almost knocking over the light blue nail polish bottle as she jumped up, throwing her needles back on the bed. “We need wine!”

“Do not ruin my masterpiece!” Harry hollered after her, as she waddled away on her heels, toes separated by foam and hight up in the air. She even had to manoeuvre around the carpet to avoid any hairs and fibres that could get stuck inside the still wet lacquer.

It took her a second to find a bottle all three of them could enjoy, given their tastes were so different – Y/N preferred sweet and red, and didn’t care if it was a three-dollar bottle from Target, Harry had a bit more of an expensive pallet, giving preference to something with a more of a lingering aftertaste and in the higher ranges of price point, while Florence liked rosé and white wines.

Taking two glasses in one hand and the bottle with a third glass between her fingers, she shuffled back to her room when she heard the two muttering something in low voices before Harry whispered harshly, “I’m not telling Y/N that!”

“Won’t me what?” Y/N’s question made him and Florence spring back where they’d been engaged in a heated conversation when she re-entered the room, putting the wine bottle and glasses on the nightstand.

Florence waved her off, giving her a smile, she didn’t believe in. “Nothing. Now come on, Harry will do your fingernails now, and I think it’s about time the mask came off.”

And that’s when Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d been in the industry long enough to know how fake people could be, how they could put on smiles so inviting and friendly while hiding their true intentions behind them. She just didn’t think two people she’d found so genuine and sweet would be like that.

And the thing was – it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the two whispering like that and hushing up when they saw her enter the room or even come somewhere near to them.

In the beginning, Y/N had chalked it up to the two being closer, given they had to spend more time together, so they knew one another better, but this time sort of solidified it wasn’t the fact the two were closer, it had to deal with Y/N specifically.

So, she started to distance herself. She’d had enough users in her life to last her for the rest of it. Y/N excused herself from the movie nights they had on most Fridays, she no longer joined in on the cooking sessions and mostly spent time in her room, or on work calls.

When she re-entered the flat, four weeks after their falling out, they watched as she nodded to them, and went inside her room, closing the door, much like she’d been doing for the past thirty days.

“Do you think she knows?” Harry asked, brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he hoped the doors would open, yet, obviously, they didn’t.

“Well, I haven’t told her, and unless you did, then I doubt it…”

Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna talk to her.”

“You think it’s a good idea?”

“No, but if she’s upset maybe she needs to talk to someone.”

“Or maybe she wants to be alone.”

Harry bit his lip thinking over Florence’s words. When he was upset about something, he himself did like to kind of retreat and become a little bit of a recluse, to sort out his emotions before anyone else tried to jump in and help with it, but the thing was – Y/N’s distancing started the night when she’d walked in on the two of them arguing, and it’d been about the girl in question herself, so he shook his head. “I’ll just ask if she’s alright.”

He took a deep breath and went to enter the room he hadn’t seen in almost a month. “Hey.” Harry poked his head through Y/N’s door, making her swirl around in her chair. She looked adorable to him. She’d changed into a big fluffy nightgown, the hood up, a headband pushing hair away from her face with a green facemask covering her skin. The domestic life flashed through Harry’s head like a freight train, as it was something he craved, but pushed it away. There was no daydreaming before figuring out what was in front of him in reality. “You okay?”

“ 'M fine.” She shot him a quick smile. “Why? Did Olivia send something new for the script?”

“Um, no, ‘s just you’ve been, I dunno – detached a bit?”

“Look, Harry… I may be younger than you, but I’ve been in this industry longer than you or Florence.” Y/N stood and shrugged before crossing her arms. “And the thing is – I don’t care for shit like that. So, you two can gossip and whisper and talk whatever you want about me behind my back. Everyone else is doing that so, you’re not that special. But’ I’d prefer if you did it somewhere else besides my room, my space, and I’ll say this once, but very clearly – we’re not friends. I don’t need friends like you. We’ll be civil and we’ll do our jobs, but…” Harry’s heart broke at her eyes, seeing the pain in them as she nodded and made sure he understood where she stood. “We’re not friends.”

She didn’t leave any room for argument. When Harry left, Y/N didn’t even look over her shoulder to see him exit.

The next couple of mornings she didn’t see them leave nor come back, seeing as Y/N had the week off from filming, but the morning of the seventh day was awkward as hell, given how all of them had to go and get tested, and well, they had their allocated time slots one after the other. Usually, they’d take one car together, but this time, Y/N drove off on her own, while Harry and Florence carpooled on their own.

The tests were always nerve-wracking. If one person went down, the whole production did for at least two weeks. And as much as she hated going in alone, she was glad no one was with her in the car, because as she stepped out, a certain notion swept over her that this would be a lot different than usual.

A doctor dressed head to toe in protective gear motioned for her to sit down, as another processed her ID and work ID. Her leg was bouncing up and down the whole time, and he eyed her. If she could see his lips, she was sure they’d be pursed. “Anything wrong?” He handed her back the IDs before moving to the table where a set of large q-tips seemed to lay in sterile packs.

Y/N sighed, biting her lip and nodded. “Woke up with a sore throat and a small cough appeared on my way here as well. I wiped and cleaned everything down at the apartment I’m staying at and wore gloves and a mask the whole time.”

“Anything else?” the doctor asked, writing down each word as Y/N said. “The feeling of breaking bones, fever, muscle pain, eyes hurting when you look up, lost sense of smell or taste?”

“No, nothing like that. Just a sore throat and a small cough.”

The doctor let out a large sigh, probably from having to wear a full-on hazmat suit. “Alright. Just for safety reasons, so we know who’s a potential contact person, who are you staying with?”

“Florence Pugh and Harry Styles. We’re renting an apartment together.”

“Do you know if they’ve had any symptoms?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head honestly. “And I haven’t really interacted with them this past week, as they’ve been on set, and I didn’t have any scenes to film, and by the time they get back, I’m already asleep, and I’m still asleep when they leave so there’s been no direct contact. We have our own kitchenware, so there shouldn’t be any direct contact. I think.”

That last bit was half-true, seeing as she hadn’t been asleep when they came back, but she might as well have been. The second Y/N heard the door click, she’d place her headphones on or leave the room, only glimpsing the two faces falling as she did that.

The doctor clearing his throat and motioning for Y/N to open her mouth so he could take a swab and then to do the same for both her nostrils, was what brought her out of it. She was so used to it, it was like nothing at that point. “Okay. We’ll need you to stay in the car while the test is being run, and if it comes back positive, you’ll be placed in a separate flat, as to not endanger the rest.”

Her ‘alright’ was barely audible. Fuck. It just felt like the universe was against her. First, the two people she’d gotten closest to were whispering behind her back and being fake to her face, now she might have a super contagious virus to which there was no medicine really, nor was there a vaccine, let alone the thought she’d have to miss filming for potentially more than two weeks.

The thirty minutes of wait were agonizing, her leg bouncing up and down. Y/N’s eyes kept watching the line of cars slowly move forward through the tent and then settle behind hers. She knew Harry was about five cars away, and she was glad he wasn’t closer. They weren’t really allowed to get out of their vehicles while the tests were being run, and Y/N didn’t think she’d be able to not look back at him through her review mirror.

Two more minutes passed when finally, one of the med students in the full hazmat suit came up and knocked on her car window.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“ID please.” It was standard so that no med info got leaked. The only reason she had to rummage through her stuff was, because she’d bite the little plastic card in half if she didn’t throw it somewhere deep inside her bag.

“So.” The man sighed, and he didn’t need to elaborate. Y/N understood, but still, he had to confirm it to her. “Your test came back positive for COVID-19. The production has been informed, and for safety reasons, everyone will have to self-isolate for two weeks.”

Y/N’s head slammed against the back of the seat. “Fuck. Okay.”

“Because so far, you’re the only positive case, you’ll be placed into quarantine. We’ll need the address you’re staying at, and if you need anything from your apartment, we can send someone over to grab a few things. You’ll have to follow the black SUV right there.” He pointed further down the lot where indeed a black SUV stood. “They’ll take you to where the quarantine apartments are. Is there anything immediate you’ll need?”

“I – uh – I need my pills, my birth control that is. I take it every evening. Computer, chargers. That’s the most immediate I can think of. Maybe some food? I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast.”

Even through the mask, Y/N could see the man smile. “Well arrange that. In the meantime, here’s the number for the coordinators who’ll get you the rest of your things and deliver them to you.”

“Thank you. I’ll call my assistant, and she’ll drive down to the apartment. She knows where everything is.”

“Have you been in close contact with her?”

“Just through the phone. She hasn’t been on set in almost a month, as I told her only to come when it’s an emergency… Guess this is it.” Y/N let out an awkward chuckle.

And truly that was it. With one last motion as to where the SUV stood, she started back up the engine, reversed out of the spot and followed the car to where the ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ production had set up a few quarantine apartments, specifically for actors and crew, speed-dialling her assistant Anna and letting her know of the situation.

“Shit, girl,” she’d cursed. “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Okay,” Anna huffed. “Do you have a spare key for the apartment by any case or do I need to go down to the lot and ask Harry or Florence?”

“Both of them will be at the apartment, given how everything’s shut down, so they should be able to open the door for you. Hopefully, if both of them are negative. If not, call me, I’ll tell you where we hide the spare. Thank you, Anna.”

“Of course.”

As Y/N pulled up behind the SUV, a man and a woman in face guards and masks stepped out. She ended the call and stepped out as well, pulling on a cloth face mask, an envelope in their hands, which they handed to her.

“Your flat’s on the third floor, 367. When you have the list of things you need, forward them to us, and we’ll gather your things.”

Y/N nodded and gave them a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

With a sigh, she took her bag and entered the complex. As much as she’d only had a small cough in the morning and a sore throat, walking up those flights of stairs made her winded more than it usually would. Maybe it was the knowledge she had a sickness, or maybe it was stress about missing work and putting everyone on lockdown, or maybe it was the combination of it all with her falling out with Harry and Florence on top.

She placed the key in the lock and twisted, revealing a studio type apartment, and it was so bare it made her heart clench. As much as she felt awkward being around Florence and Harry, their flat was a bit messy, had little pieces of clothing thrown around, giant knitted blankets on the sofas, a candle always lit whenever someone was home. Harry’s shoes were typically all over the place while Y/N’s make up was scattered around everywhere. Literally. Florence and Harry had gotten back early one morning from a night shoot and found her looking under the sofas for one of her lash glues as she started to get ready for the day. They’d made that flat their home for the time being. This… this was nothing like that.

She threw the keys on the small kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket. They was going to be a long two weeks. At best.

***

Back at their place, Florence and Harry were pacing around, having heard the news that someone was positive, and everything had to shut down for the time being, yet Y/N was nowhere to be seen when a knock at the door disrupted them.

Harry was there and flinging it open in a matter of a second, only to be stopped by Anna instead of Y/N.

“Hey.” His brows furrowed as she and two people all wearing masks and gloves entered. “What’s going on? Is Y/N alright?”

Anna sighed, nodding her head for the two strangers to go towards the woman’s room. “She was the one who tested positive for the virus. Gave me a list of the things she’d need while in quarantine. We’re here to pick ‘em up and get them to her.”

“And she’s not doing that here?”

“Per the safety instructions, she’s been placed in a separate flat in self-isolation.”

“She could’ve done that here. We’d be fine with it,” Florence butted in, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re more than willing to take care of her. She’ll need someone to help her.”

“You both tested negative.” One of the people piped up, carrying a box of books and yarn. “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to quarantine separately until she’s no longer infected. She’s under the supervision of doctors, and she knows if an emergency happens, they’ll be there in ten minutes tops. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”

Harry sighed, nodding as the people exited their place, but before Anna could leave, he took hold of her bicep. “Hey, can you please tell her to call me? I just wanna talk.”

“I uh – ” Anna furrowed her brows, showing Harry that Y/N hadn’t said anything to her about the falling out they’d had. “I’ll uh, yeah. I’ll do that.”

With that he was left to close the door and just wait for… anything.

***

In the two hours Y/N had spent in the apartment, she already felt like going insane, having been left alone with her thoughts, so how she was going to do another two weeks after finally getting back into the rhythm of work was beyond her. She didn’t have any of her knitting supplies, didn’t have any of her books (yet), and most likely there was no reason to look at her script anymore, as she’d made up her mind about a lot of things.

There was a knock at the door, and Y/N instantly had a mask on her face and gloves on her hands. She peeped through the peephole and when she saw boxes lined in the hallway, three people in masks and faceguards at least six feet away, only then did she open the door and give them a wave.

“Everything should be here, but if you need anything else just pop me a message.” Anna then pointed at a bag that sat atop everything. “There are the most important things, so you don’t have to rummage through everything and a pizza is on the way while I do some grocery shopping for you. And umm, there’s a paper you need to sing that you know you need to be in self-isolation and that you understand what happens if you’re not.”

Y/N hoped all of them understood she was smiling underneath the mask, grateful for having them help her out like that. “Thank you. So much.”

She rushed inside found a pen and signed it, moving between the boxes to place the papers on the stairs so that they could be safely retrieved. With that, the two assigned people left, leaving Anna to say goodbye.

“Call me.” She pointed at Y/N. “No matter what, even if you just wanna talk for five seconds.”

“Will do.” Y/N nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “If I could, I’d hug you.”

Anna sighed, cocking her head. “Same. And umm, Harry told me to ask you to call him.”

“Yeah, uh thank you.” She knew he probably wanted to talk, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise, but it still made her stumble on her words. “Take care, Anna.”

“You too.”

***

The next two days Y/N spent worrying as to how to present her decisions to the cast and crew. She felt worse with every hour, and with that had come her thought process, but as much as everyone was going to be impacted by what she was going to do, Olivia would be the one dealing with it most, so later that night she hopped on a Zoom call with her director.

“Hey, girl.” Olivia gave her a warm smile, and Y/N almost melted. God, she loved that woman. She was like the older sister she never had. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright. Feelin’ kind of woozy from time to time, throat’s killing me, and I’m fairly certain I’m getting abs from how much I’m coughing.” That made both of them chuckle before Y/N bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she sighed, looking at Olivia. “The reason I called you is that umm… well, I think it’d be a lot more cost-effective for you to re-cast me. We’ve barely shot one scene with me. I’ll be out of commission for two weeks, as a minimum. It could get worse. And I’m definitely not going to be back before I get two negative consecutive tests.”

Olivia shook her head, running down her hands over her face and then through her hair. “Y/N, I really don’t want to do this. There’s a reason we cast you. You’re amazing, and yours and Harry’s chemistry is off the charts. We’re all quarantining for two weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time, back on set and killing it like you always do.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course, I do! Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

“All I’m saying it could take up to a month to get those two negative tests. By that point, you could’ve shot at least a fourth of my scenes. Olivia…” Y/N gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you know I’m right. I hate to pass on this, but I won’t hinder the production. If you want my input, I’ll help with the re-casting, if it takes the guilt away.”

“I still feel like shit this is an option we even have to consider.”

“’S not your fault. You didn’t get me sick. We should be happy it’s just me, not someone else or more than one person.”

***

For two more days, it was radio silence from Y/N, and Harry and Florence were anxious messes. If they could distract themselves from the falling out while on set, then now, having to be cooped up inside the apartment with pretty much nothing to do, was so much worse, not to mention Y/N declined all of their calls and left their messages on read, leaving the only option for checking in either through Anna or what she decided to share on her social media, which wasn’t a lot. But the thing was, Harry knew his best bet was to call Y/N in the middle of the night. Disorientated and barely awake, she probably wouldn’t look at the caller ID once. And he was right.

A bleary face appeared on his screen, eyes squinting as she tried to block out as much of the light as possible. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy, and Harry’s heart clenched at just how much pain her throat must be in, let alone how she was feeling as a whole.

“Hey, there, lovie.”

It took her a second to comprehend the person who was speaking, and she’d be lying if she said hearing Harry’s voice didn’t bring her some sort of joy. “Hey, H. Are you alright? Why are you still up?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about you.”

Y/N hummed, rolling on her side, and immediately regretting it as the action elicited a coughing fit. “Yeah?” she asked hoarsely. “ ’Nd what about me?”

‘How shitty I feel about everything’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m so fucking terrified’, but instead he asked, “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” Y/N croaked out before her body was racked with coughs once more. Harry’s own chest hurt just hearing them. “Fever’s finally down, so I’m getting some sort of sleep. Throat’s killing me though, and they’ve hooked me up to an IV. They’ll be coming in two hours or so to change the bag. How are you?” she asked quietly. “How’s Florence?”

“She’s alright. Upset. Just like I am.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Why’re you upset?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re sick, alone in quarantine and… and we can’t help you. I can’t help you.”

A genuine chuckle escaped her. “Didn’t know you had a medical degree, Styles. Could be my personal nurse. Fetch me my water and shit.”

“No, but at least I’d like to be there for you.”

“Harry…”

“I like you,” he said after taking a deep breath, hoping that the break he’d heard in Y/N’s voice as she’d said his name wasn’t just because of the sickness, but because her heart thudded just as fast as his when he thought of them together, that her mind reeled with the possibilities of where their futures could take them and that whenever they touched, she could feel the electricity that ran through his fingertips, igniting his whole body. “That’s what Florence and I were whispering about all the time. Is that I’m madly crushing on you, and I couldn’t gather the courage to say it to you.”

A strong coughing fit made her drop the phone on the bed and lean over, as she gasped for breath, and through it all, all Harry wanted was to be there. Fuck him possibly getting the virus, as long as he could make it easier for her in some way.

“ ’M sorry,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible as to not aggravate her throat. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to apologise. You’re sick, you can’t help –”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I assumed you and Florence were talking bad behind my back. I never should’ve done that. And this is not an excuse, I’m not trying to shift the blame from being in the wrong, but I like you too.” She gave him a shy grin that he thought was as bright as the sun. “I really like you too, Harry. I think that’s why it hurt so much to hear you two whispering ‘bout something. And thinking it was about me, and it was something bad, hurt even more, ‘cause I really connected with Flo, and I kinda, well I kind of fell for you. Hard.”

“You did?” His tone was like he didn’t believe what his ears were hearing.

“Yeah. A lot actually… I – I really like you, Harry.”

He couldn’t explain how his heart expanded in his chest while simultaneously was being crushed by his inability to help, by the distance between them, while the hope that glimmered in his eyes at Y/N’s words made her heart break as much as his was, when he asked, “So you won’t resign?”

“Harry,” Y/N made her voice as tough as it could sound with her condition. “I told them to re-cast me not because of you. I’ve been on enough sets and worked with enough pricks, and still gotten the job done. Genuinely, this is not because of you or Florence. I just – I just don’t want to hold up production. You’ll all be out in what – twelve days or something? I’ll be here for at least twice that, if everything goes the way it’s going right now.”

“I don’t want anyone else to play Larie. You are my Larie,” he muttered, which made Y/N smile, but in a true Y/N fashion she just wanted to make others feel better.

“You do know Jack murders Larie in the middle of the night.”

Harry’s mouth opened like a fishes’ while Y/N’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “That’s – that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”

Both of them were laughing now, all tension having evaporated.

“I know.” She bit on her lower lip. “But um… we’ve gotta be practical. I sent Olivia my resignation letter already, and she signed.”

She saw Harry sigh and throw back his head at her words.

“ ’M sorry, Haz. I didn’t want to but –”

“I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “You always put everyone before yourself. God, this just sucks major ass.”

“Trust me,” Y/N started before being interrupted by another major coughing fit. “I –,” she took in a breath. “I know.”

Her heart cracked seeing Harry’s face and his green eyes, the eyes she’d gotten lost in more times than she’d ever admitted being lined by tears. “I wish I could help you.”

“But you are. Just by – by talking to me, by keeping my mind off things. You’re helping me more than you’ll ever know.”

“When you get out, I’m taking you on a date.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. For the first time in a while, she felt good, despite being sick. “Is that a threat, Styles?”

“It’s a fucking promise.”

That night she fell asleep listening to Harry talking, seeing as it became harder and harder for her to do so, so he just took over, telling her stories that lulled her to dreamland where he was there, and she could touch him.

The following days she also had calls with Florence and the rest of her cast to explain the situation, but she wasn’t doing much talking anymore, and one night they’d even seen her almost throw up from coughing so much, which broke everyone’s hearts. They were lucky the only Covid case before Y/N had been a light one, so witnessing just how brutal it could be, made everyone appreciate what they had, but at the same time, feel as helpless as ever.

A week and a half in, that was when shit really hit the fan. Despite her feeling shitty the previous days, now Y/N woke up from the feeling as if she was drowning. She’d fallen asleep while talking with Harry on FaceTime, his features illuminated on her phone. At first, she thought it was just her dream still lingering and causing that effect, but when after a minute or so her lungs still remained on fire, she knew she had to dial the doctors.

In five minutes’ time, an ambulance was at her door, and it was a miracle she’d been able to get out of bed to open it because the second she did, her whole body pretty much collapsed into the arms of one of the nurses.

***

“Come on,” Harry muttered into the phone, pulling on a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and a knitted sweater he took from the floor as he immediately tried to redial her, having heard the call drop. “Come on! Pick up, Y/N!” Her voicemail answered instead.

“Damn it!”

It took Harry seven minutes with the way he was driving to get to her assigned isolation place, only to be greeted by red and blue flashing lights, an ambulance right in front of the entrance, and it took Harry five seconds to feel his heart drop as a team of three doctors wheeled out a gurney on which lay Y/N, face covered in a mask, an IV stuck inside her arm while a huge plastic cover domed over her body.

Without even thinking about himself or his safety, Harry jumped out of his car, rushing towards the ambulance.

“Sir.” One of the doctors extended a palm towards him, keeping him back as Harry tried to get towards the inside of the car. “Sir, you can’t be here.”

“Is that Y/N?” Harry felt like he was spinning out of control, and his mind was dizzy from not being able to take in a proper breath. “Is – is that Y/N?”

“Are you family?”

“I –,” Harry so desperately wanted to say yes, to say he was her boyfriend at least, but he couldn’t lie. “No, I’m just her collegue – friend! I’m her friend. Is she alright?”

“Okay, well is there anyone we can contact from her family?”

Harry nodded, knowing that her mum and dad were on her emergency contact lists. “But her family is out of the country, and they won’t be able to fly out with all the restrictions in place.”

“Alright.” The doctor sighed before looking back inside the car. In a way, Harry was happy he couldn’t see Y/N because he was sure if he did, he’d completely break down and crumble to the ground. “We’ll contact her parents, but if you could leave us your number as an emergency contact on place that’d be a lot of help.”

“Okay, uh…” Harry took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then let it out before reciting the number he used while in the USA and his permanent UK number as well, so he could be reachable anywhere and at any point in day or night, no matter the time.

“Well keep you up to date.”

And with that, the ambulance doors shut, and they rushed away, the vailing of sirens echoing in the dark night, leaving Harry with a hand in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and without a clue as to what to do.

***

In the end, Harry had gone back to his car and cried for what felt like ages, but instead, it was just twenty minutes. He pulled himself together but was still shaking as he made his way back to the flat where Florence basically ripped open the door. Seeing his face told her everything she needed to know.

“She’ll be alright,” the woman muttered as she soothed Harry by rubbing a palm up and down his back, letting him hide his face in her shoulder. “It’s Y/N. She’d pull through an atomic bomb.”

They spent the rest of the night and the following day on the couch, glued to Harry’s phone waiting for any sort of updates. From time to time a text message came from the hospital letting them know what procedures were being done on Y/N, that her parents have been informed, and if necessary, they’d allowed Harry to be the main contact person because of his proximity to their daughter.

Three days later and the quarantine for the rest of the cast and crew ended, yet when they returned to the set, everyone was in low spirits. Especially, Harry – he was miserable. Every moment spent not reciting lines or acting was occupied with the thoughts of Y/N, how she was doing, was she improving, was she still breathing, how he wanted to just ditch everything and run to her, to help in whatever way he could.

“This sucks,” Florence grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as they took a break while re-setting already in for the fifth day of filming, eight since Y/N’d been in the hospital. “Can’t believe they won’t allow a phone in with her.”

“It’s the same policy for everyone, but trust me,” Harry sighed and looked up at the bright blue sunny sky above. “The number of times I got out of my bed in the middle of the night and had the car keys in hand is ridiculous. And the number of times I’ve thought about breaking into that hospital is even more concerning.”

Florence let out a small chuckle and nudged his shoulder. “I’d cover for you if you did. As long as she doesn’t have to be there alone.” She hung her head, blond strands falling down to curtain her face. “Can’t imagine how scared she must be.”

Harry just sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could say.

Something vibrated in his pocket, but he no longer furrowed his brows when unknown numbers called, knowing it was from the hospital. It was nerve-wracking though to pick up the call each time because he had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of bad news, even though he always hoped for good ones.

“Yes, hi. Hello. I – oh,” he put a hand over his mouth and sagged down onto a chair. “Oh, thank god, thank you, doctor. Yeah. Yes, I’ll let her know, and someone will be there to open the flat. Thank you again. For everything.”

He took away the phone from his ear and stared at the ground for a minute before leaping up and hugging Florence, laughter escaping his mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s the opposite. Y/N’s out of the hospital.”

“Oh thank god!” Her hands flew to hug him back.

“She’ll have to stay in self-isolation until the two negative tests and will be monitored by the doctors, but she’s out.”

Immediately he was dialling her, and Harry had never been as happy for the invention of a video call, because when he saw Y/N’s face light up the screen, as tired as she looked, it was the most beautiful sight that graced his eyes.

“Hey, lovie.” His voice was soft and low as if anything louder would worsen her state.

Her ‘hey’ was barely audible, but he heard it, and it made the weight of a boulder drop off his shoulders.

“I’m so – I mean we all are so happy you’re back home.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I’m happy too,” she whispered. “I missed you. Missed everyone, but most of all I missed you.”

Harry was happy they were separated by a screen because if she was anywhere in a five-mile radius, he was sure she would be able to hear his heart beat out of his ribcage at her words. “How are you feeling?”

“ ‘M alright,” Y/N tried to let him know. “Very tired.”

“Then get back to sleep, lovie.”

Y/N shook her head. “Wanna talk to you.”

“I’ll keep talking,” Harry promised. “Like we did before, okay.”

“Okay…”

And so, he did. He kept talking as Y/N listened, and he watched as her eyes slowly closed before she drifted off to sleep. Even though Harry had to go back to filming, he didn’t dare end the call. He’d never end the call.

***

It took a month and a half for Y/N to get those two consecutive negative tests, to feel somewhat human again and when she did, she probably garnered at least seven speeding tickets with how fast she was driving down to the set.

It was the most inconspicuous outfit she could scramble together, consisting of a hoodie and baseball cap, as she watched Harry as Jack lean down to peck the actress’s lips, then step into the vintage car and rev out in the driveway, while a dishevelled Florence started the scene from the side, eyes racking over Jack’s first wife, who was dressed the exact same way, hair styled like hers and even nails painted the same, her character putting all the puzzle pieces together.

“And cut!” Olivia yelled across the lot, nudging Y/N’s side and giving her a smirk. “He’s gonna freak. You’re all he’s been talking about on set. We almost had to put a ban on you as a topic,” she muttered that part so only the woman could hear while telling everyone to re-set, so they could do the scene from another angle, but not before asking the three actors to come and look at the monitors so they could understand how to move in order to keep the continuity.

Y/N moved to the side, ducking her head down as Harry, Florence and Mandy, the actress that took over her role, all leaned closer to watch the monitors. Y/N had to bite on her lip to keep the grin away, as all of them analysed their movements and the scene, nodding along to what Olivia was saying.

“Y/L/N, what do you think?” Olivia asked, grinning.

Y/N stepped forward a bit, seeing all of their shocked faces through her peripheral, as she pointed to the screen, lifting her head so that everyone could see her face fully. “I think it’s great, you might want to step to the side a bit more, Harry, when –” but she was unable to finish the sentence as he swooped her in his arms, lifting her basically off the ground, and burying his face in her neck.

“Watch the hair! Daniele will have a fit if you ruin her masterpiece!” Y/N laughed, holding one of her hands on the base of his neck, the other tightly wrapped around his shoulders, but he just shook his head, and she could feel tears splash her skin.

“Fuck the hair!” He let out a small chuckle, and she could hear the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much. I was so scared.”

“Same,” Y/N whispered. “Missed you like crazy. And your stupid, unfunny dad jokes.”

“ ‘M hilarious, lovie, what are you talking about?”

He finally set her down but didn’t let go of her waist, and she smiled cupping his cheeks. “A true comedian, that’s what you are.”

“I know. Why’dya think I got that SNL slot?”

But his eyes, as he gazed into hers once more glassed over.

“Hey,” Y/N cooed wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, cause then I’ll cry, and we’re both gonna be crying messes, and then these guys will have to deal with that.”

Harry sighed, leaning into her touch. “Happy tears, lovie. All happy tears.”

The two looked at one another as if there was no one else in the universe. And for the two of them, there really wasn’t. Neither had to say what was on their minds, they already knew.

His face was inching closer to Y/N’s, and heart started to beat erratically, not that Harry minded, as his palm rested in the middle of her back. In fact, his own heart mimicked the rhythm, but it stuttered when someone behind him cleared their throat and interrupted their moment.

Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest as he sighed at Olivia’s raised eyebrow.

“You’ll be able to smooch as much as you want, but we need him in hair and make-up.”

“Oli-“

“Now,” she let out a small laugh. “Before Daniele removes my head from my shoulders.”

“Go,” Y/N patted his side. “I’ll still be here.”

“Is that a threat?”

She grinned up at him. “A fucking promise.”

Harry dashed away like lightning, hoping that the quicker he was done, the sooner he could have Y/N back in his arms even if it was for a second, but her attention was taken by a woman with long blond curls, a flowing green slip on her figure; her steps unsure as was the wave she gave her, but Y/N’s heart melted at the sight of her.

“Hey, Flo,” she whispered and brought the girl in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto her, trying to convey how much she regretted her words and actions, especially because they were unwarranted.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, and she nodded.

“Me too.”

Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“And I should’ve made sure Harry pulled his head out of his ass.”

That made both of them laugh, and it was nice to do it not only without having to cough up her insides, but to do it with someone she’d connected with and had become great friends with.

“He did that. I just hope if he wants to make another move, it won’t take me dying to push him to.”

Florence pointed at her, a serious look on her face. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he does.”

A small noise of someone clearing their throat from behind Y/N took both of their attentions for them to go onto the actress who’d been cast as her replacement, the woman coming forward and extending her hand for a handshake with a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”

“ ‘S very nice to meet you.” Y/N tried to give off as open and accepting of a vibe as much as possible, because she genuinely wanted Mandy to feel respected and that she wasn’t a threat. “Before you think anything if you’re worried about me taking the role, don’t. It’s all yours, so don’t worry about that. I just stopped by ‘cause I hadn’t seen anyone in almost two months. Never thought I’d say this, but fuck did I missed people.”

Mandy shook her head, her smile a lot lighter and brighter now. “I – uh thank you for that actually. I’m a huge fan of yours, and well, can only try and live up to what you would’ve portrayed.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll absolutely kill it, and I can’t wait for the movie.”

It was great to see Mandy’s shoulders drop in relief. “Would it be too much if I asked for advice on the role?”

“No,” Y/N laughed. “But I would say that you should make this role your own. It is yours. You are Larie now. And Harry’s Jack. Make it yours.”

As she said that, she turned to watch Harry who was practically bouncing on his feet, green eyes flitting back to where she was standing, and when their gazes met, neither could help the smiles blooming on their faces.

“You know he messed up a scene once and said your name?”

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked over at Mandy. “What do you mean ‘said my name’?”

“It was a kissing scene. The wedding bit, actually. As Jack and Larie recited their vows, and he leans down to kiss her, he was supposed to say, ‘I’ll love you Larie, until the very end’. He said your name instead.”

That hit Y/N more than a semi-truck wheeling a ton of bricks would. Yes, she knew Harry liked her, and he knew she liked him, but love was a big word, and for him to admit that, whether it was a flub or not, was even bigger.

Harry was a private person. While he openly talked about what he felt, he guarded heart at the same time, much like Y/N did. But she had to wait until Olivia yelled cut for the day, and had to watch him make a mad dash for hair and make-up before running to the dressing trailer as he didn’t want to miss out on a second he could spend with her. Even as they walked up to their shared flat and he opened the door, his fingers stayed intertwined with hers.

“How does it feel to be back?”

“Kinda shitty, honestly,” Y/N laughed throwing the keys to the table and shrugging out of the jacket and taking off the cap, Harry immediately helping her and putting it on one of the racks. “I’ll have to move out, now that I’m not part of the movie.”

“Why? ‘S not like the production is paying our rent, we’re doing it out of our own pocket.”

“Yes, but now that I don’t have a job, I kinda need to look for one.”

“And what says that you can’t live here while you do that?”

“I –,” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I mean nothing, really… I just… kinda thought because I’m not part of the movie anymore it’d be safer if I found my own place. But um… I think I have something else I’d like to talk about. Mandy,” Y/N dragged out her name a bit, a sly smirk appearing on her face, “told me you had a flub on set.”

Harry’s heart was pounding underneath her palm where she’d grabbed onto the lapels of his dress shirt, so he couldn’t run away.

“I’ve uh,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a couple of flubs on set. Who hasn’t?”

“I don’t doubt that. But she said you misspoke a name.”

She made him look into her eyes and wouldn’t dare let their gaze break. “You said my name during the wedding scene. You said Y/N. Not Larie.”

Harry looked like a cross between a deer in headlights and a fish out of the water, eyes wide with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out, which made Y/N worry a bit.

She placed a palm against his cheek. “Harry? You alright?”

“I – I meant it.” He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “And when I thought back on it, I don’t remember seeing her face or Larie’s face. It was yours. And the lips I was kissing belonged to you too. I was holding your hand, and you were holding mine. And I know it’s way too quick, for a wedding -”

“Unless you threaten me with it –”

“I –,” Harry stuttered before laughing, all tension evaporating from his body. “No, that I don’t want to be a threat. That will be a question asked with love and hopefully an answer given to it the same way.”

Y/N nudged his nose with hers. “Well, we’ll see. I mean if you don’t kiss me what makes you th–,”

But she didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before his lips were on hers, pressing with such gentleness, it made her weak at the knees, and she would’ve crumbled if Harry’s arms handn’t woven around her middle, fingers pressing into the sides, the pressure increasing with each second their mouths were connected.

Harry’s hand drifted up Y/N’s back and settled on her neck as if he could pull her any closer, her own palms slipping over his stomach, pecks and grabbing onto his jaw, fingers lightly scratching at the stubble that’d grown throughout the day. He had to shave every morning for the role of Jack, but each evening she’d see a small, darkened shadow across his skin, and Y/N would be lying that when she’d realised her attraction to him, she hadn’t thought about how delicious it would feel to have it leave small burn marks on the inside of her thighs.

Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs, trying to create some sort of friction which became more and more unbearable as she felt Harry moan into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her lower lip, asking for permission without words, which Y/N granted without a second to spare.

It was heavenly to have him so close to her. She did wonder if the sensation was intensified by the fact, she hadn’t been able to touch anyone properly for almost two months, but that thought vanished when his fingers skimmed underneath her hoodie, brushing against her heated skin. No. It was because it was Harry.

“I –,” he was breathless as he pulled away, but Y/N didn’t let him get too far, her lips attaching themselves to his neck, making him groan in pleasure. “I don’t want to push this too far.”

Her brows scrunched up, as she took a look at him. “What do you mean? If you think I don’t want this, then let me be perfectly clear – I do. A lot.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking glad you do, but… Y/N you just got out of the hospital, where you were on a ventilator. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

“Not your choice to make.” A devious smile appeared on her face, as she stepped a few feet away and lifted her hoodie over her head, making Harry inhale sharply. “So here are your two options.” Her hands went behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it slowly drop to the floor, the green eyes that hadn’t left her now wide as saucers. “Number one.” She toed off her boots and popped open the button of her jeans. “We can stop this, obviously, just say the word, and I get to my room, start packing and looking for a new place. We can have some dinner and just chill. Or number two.” Y/N hooked her jeans behind her thumbs and slowly dragged them down her legs, revealing more and more of herself to Harry. “We can go inside your room and make up for the lost time. In every position imaginable, for as long as you want. But.” Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief as she made her way to Harry’s room. “I don’t think you wanna take the first option.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, turning it from the meticulously gelled hairstyle into a mop of messy strands. “You know you’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman.”

Y/N swayed her hips a bit more as she took another step closer to his room, the door meeting her back, and one of her hands went to the doorknob, pressing down on it. “Well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date, and definitely not like that.”

He stood there, hands on his hips, eyes not leaving her body, as she cocked her head. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

They were ten torturous seconds for both, hearts beating out of their chests, but it only took three steps for Harry to cross the hallway, his hand sneaking behind Y/N’s back and pressing down on the doorknob as well, revealing the inside of his room. It was messy, much like her own, but it wouldn’t take too much to rip all off the tossed around bedding leaving a whole bed to themselves.

“You. Are. The. Devil.”

Her smile was nothing short of wicked. “I mean you can listen to the angel on your shoulder.”

“I’d rather listen to you.”

Together they stepped inside, and Y/N nodded. “Making good choices already.”

“Can’t get on your bad side, can I now?”

“I mean you can.” Her legs hit the back of his bed and she fell down on it, Harry leaning over, resting his elbows next to her head. “But bad boys get punished.”

His nose skimmed over hers. Now he was the one smiling like a devil. “I’ll hold you to your word. For future reference, that is.”

That kiss was nothing like their first. This was messy, and passionate, all tongue and teeth, hands grabbing everywhere possible to get the other unclothed. Or at least that’s what Y/N was trying to do, seeing as she was pretty much naked already, and Harry was the one still wearing too much.

Her hands pretty much ripped open the shirt. It one of his expensive Gucci ones, she was quite certain of it, but it didn’t seem like he cared, as he shrugged it off, throwing it to land somewhere on the floor.

Y/N sighed into his mouth as her hands were now freely allowed to run over his chest, over the ink embedded into his skin, over taut muscles that relaxed under her touch, and dig into his sides in an attempt to leave her own marks on him, much like he was going to do to her.

“Think you can take your pants off? It’s only fair.” Y/N muttered into his mouth and his own travelled down to her cheek, then neck and to her chest.

“You mean my trousers?”

Her lips quirked up and she shrugged her shoulders. “No, in this case, I meant pants the British way.”

“And if I’m going commando?”

Y/N pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away from her. “You had nothing underneath all day on set?”

“No! I wouldn’t subject the dressing department to that. But underneath this.” He looked down at his jeans and smiled at her. “I do have nothing.”

“Well then? Get on with it!”

Both of them were giggling, as Y/N tried to unbuckle Harry’s belt, his own fingers mixing with hers as he went for the zipper and the button. He nudged his head towards her. “Your socks and pants come off as well. Or we’ll be unevenly matched.”

Y/N lifted her eyebrow, as she went for her own remaining pieces of clothing. “No socks during sex?”

“No, what kind of a weirdo do you think I am?”

“And if my feet get cold?” She threw them away somewhere.

“We have a blanket.”

As Harry removed his jeans and his own socks, Y/N slipped off the dampened piece of clothing that’d been on her, now both of them completely naked.

“Alright.” He leaned over her again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling them chest to chest. “Happy now?”

Y/N deeply kissed him. “Very. But I think we can make each other even happier.”

“Agreed,” Harry hummed. “Wanna get a taste first.” He attached his lips to her collarbones sucking a bruise there. “Can I?”

She groaned at the feeling, knowing there be a pleasant ache that accompanied mark. “You can. Don’t have to, if you don’t want. No need to do this for me.”

“And if it’s for me?” Harry was moving lower and lower with each word, wet tongue flicking against a perked bud, and making Y/N gasp. “What if I wanna feel you cum on my tongue, and what if I wanna do something I’ve dreamed about for months now?”

His hands were kneading her breasts, mouth having left a trail of kisses down the middle of her stomach as it was moving towards where an ache that’d been left untreated made itself more and more prominent.

“Then please, please, please do something, Harry.”

“With pleasure.”

Luckily for Y/N, she didn’t have to beg any more, as his mouth attached itself to where she wanted him most, tongue sweeping past her lower lips and licking up a broad, steady stripe.

One of her hands went to fist into her hair and the other into Harry’s. “Shit,” she moaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Guide me.” He licked a circle around her clit. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Mhgm, fuck, okay,” Y/N breathed out. “I – I mean you’re doing great on your own.” Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon, and Harry shifted her legs so that they lay over his shoulders. “But umm, like if you lick around my clit, but like really press down li – oh, fuuuuck, just like that.”

The coil in her stomach tightened with each pass he did, just like Y/N had instructed, small tight circles just how she did with her fingers, only what took her sometimes half an hour, Harry managed to do in less than ten minutes, to have her toes curling and hands grasping anywhere they could find purchase to just keep onto something real.

The vibrations from Harry humming sent shivers straight to her core. “What else, lovie? What else, do you like?”

“If – if –,” Y/N panted, “if you suck on it, but like – fuck – shit! If you kinda keep a seal around my clit, that fuck! Yes!”

The way Harry was eating her out was almost sensational, but what made it even better wasn’t that he just decided to do something and assumed, she’d like it, he asked, he wanted to learn and discover what made her tick and turn, or in this case – cum.

“Harry, ‘m close,” Y/N warned him, feeling the warmth slowly start to spread all throughout her body.

�� “I’ll get you there.”

He let his lips go for a moment before slipping two of his fingers so that they pinched her clit and moved them slowly but tightly up and down it, while his tongue went to slip inside her hole, and that did it for her.

With a gasp of air, Y/N’s eyes rolled to be back of her head, hips lifting up as euphoria exploded through her veins. Her mind went completely dizzy, and she was quite sure some drool also dribbled down the side of her mouth because she’d lost all ability to function.

“ -o me, love,” Y/N heard as if through a fog, and then felt two soothing palms running up and down her legs. “Come back, love. There you go.”

A drunken smile bloomed on her face, and she ran a hand down it, the same hand that’d grabbed Harry’s hair like a vice. “Fuck. You’re good, you know what you’re doing.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself because I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

She watched as he straightened out to sit on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, cock slapping against his stomach, and when she looked down there was a wet patch on his side of the sheets, a sly grin morphing on her face. “You liked eating me out so much you came yourself?”

“What can I say – bringing pleasure, gives me pleasure. And your cunt’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. But… do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked, kissing the inside of Y/N’s thighs and watching as she vigorously nodded her head, but he just smirked. “I think I need to test it out. Just to make sure.”

“Harry,” Y/N whined as she felt his fingers skim the apex of her thighs, teasing her.

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

With that, he used one of his hands to open up her lips, his thumb pressing down on her already sensitive clit, eliciting a gasp before he allowed two fingers to skim her entrance and then slipped in.

“Still so tight,” he said, watching as Y/N sighed and her mouth fell open, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Told you needed to check if you were ready. What kind of a gentleman would I be now, if I didn’t make sure you could take it?”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “I can take you.”

“Don’t doubt it.” Harry left kisses along her leg, as he continued on with his movements, noting how her hips slowly started to grind down on his palm, so he pushed his fingers in deeper so that the heel of his hand could rest against her clit, making the pleasure intensify. “But I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you when all I wanna do is give you pleasure. And you weren’t stretched out enough. Not yet at least.”

“Oh, god, Harry,” Y/N groaned, one arm thrown over her eyes as his fingers hit just the right spot.

“That’s it? Right there?”

“Yes, right there,” she moaned. “Just. Fuck! Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“Gonna cum again?”

“Yes, just – just curl your fingers and twist them a bit more.”

And much like the first time, a couple more times was all it took. Her orgasm was even more powerful than the previous and fully knocked her breath out of her lungs. Her legs fell open around his shoulders, stomach and chest spasming from the intensity.

Gentle fingers skimmed up and down Y/N’s arms and featherlight kisses fluttered over her breasts, then chest, neck and finally were peppered across her cheeks.

“Kinda spaced out on me there. You alright? Not too much?”

“ ’M – I’m good. But I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me.”

Harry chuckled, and Y/N leaned her head to the side so she could press a kiss against the closest of the swallow tattoos. “Hopefully not. I still wanna take you out on that date.”

Her eyes landed on Harry’s left hand’s ring finger, where a golden band still laid.

“Oh, yeah.” He lifted the digits, still covered in her cum before pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. “Forgot to remove it. Hope the prop guys don’t kill me.”

She hated how his eyes sparkled, absolutely knowing what that sight did to her, how it made her stomach flutter and heart thunder against her ribs. Y/N was sure with the force it was pounding, they’d crack.

“Well, if they don’t, I will.” She pulled him down, nails raking on his skin, dragging to rest on his ass as they bit into it. “Now get inside me.”

“Condom.”

“No, ‘m on the pill.”

“I’m clean, I swear, but it’s still not a hundred per cent safe.”

Y/N shook her head. “I’ll buy the morning-after pill. Just need you inside.”

“You sure?” Harry placed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. I mean I’m clean, and uh… I just wanna feel you.”

He’d cum once already, and Harry would be dammed if he did it again before having the chance to know how heaven feels like. As gently as possible, he took himself, giving a few strokes before nudging the tip against Y/N’s clit, her sharp inhale stalling him until she nodded.

Her nails dug into his biceps, as he finally slipped inside her, making both of them moan at the feeling. Even with all of the stretching out he’d done with his fingers, and the two orgasms he’d drawn from her, the slickness helping everything to be easy and smooth, Y/N still felt a little sting.

Harry’s head dropped to Y/N’s shoulders and even from under him, she could feel his thighs and stomach shaking, as he tried to hold his composure and give her a little bit of time to adjust.

A couple of deep breaths later, she tapped his ribs. “You can move now.”

“ ‘ya sure?”

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded her head and pecked his lips reassuringly. “Please.”

His dishevelled and sweaty hair shook as he nodded and slowly drew back his hips so that just the tip of his cock remained in her before gliding back inside. The sight alone was more than enough to make both of them explode, but they wanted to last longer than thirty seconds, especially for their first time together. There’d be quickies for later, now they wanted to have a proper shag.

Bit by bit, Harry’s pace quickened, pearls of sweat gliding down his skin and dampening the sheets below them, much like it was with Y/N. Her leg slid up to rest around his hips, giving him a better angle and more leverage for him to strike the right spot, as he pushed her knee to rest against her chest, Y/N’s head falling back to the pillow.

Her insides were shaking from the pleasure, and it was like an invisible force was pushing down on her chest, as she struggled for a proper breath. “Harry,” she dragged out his name, the word turning into a high-pitched whine.

“I know,” he responded in the same breathless voice. He could feel her tighten around him and wasn’t sure just how much longer he’d be able to keep up the pace. “Touch yourself ‘f me, lovie. C’mon, use those fingers.”

Y/N did as she was told. It didn’t give her that butterfly feeling like it’d happened when they’d been Harry’s, but it did make her cum faster, and the sensation of her gushing around his cock made him lose all self-control and he spilled inside.

It wasn’t enough for Y/N, but she guessed she needed to settle for it. She knew that nothing really ever touched in the universe, that the closest atoms ever come to touching one another is when their wave packets overlap, much like she and Harry were now overlapping, his body lying on top of hers, skin sweaty and frame trembling as he came down from his own high.

“I uh,” Y/N cleared her throat, finger tracing the outline of one of the butterfly in the middle of Harry’s chest. “When the people came to get my stuff, I umm, asked them to take your rainbow cardigan. Wanted something that smelled like you, so I didn’t feel so alone. Was the first thing I put on when I got out of my hospital gown.”

She felt his body rumble with laughter and a kiss being pressed to her forehead. “I know. Saw Anna stash it inside the suitcase. I uh, I was the one who also put in one of my sweaters. Know how cold you always get.”

She hid her smile against his collarbones. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”

“ 'M always thinking of you… Will you knit me one though?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow. “Knit you one?”

“Yes. I know you knit –“

“Everyone knits nowadays.”

Harry drew himself back a bit, and she pushed away the matted down strands from his forehead, wiping away the sweat from underneath his green eyes as well. “Yes, but the point is – there’ll be a million other Gucci shirts and sweaters and cardigans. But I’d like to have one-of-a-kind made by you. So, I have something to sleep next to when you’re not next to me.”

Y/N ran a finger along his jawline, biting away her grin. “It’ll probably have mistakes. I’m not that good at it. ‘M not a professional.”

“Exactly.” Harry tilted her head up with a finger and their eyes met. “Which is why it’ll be perfect.”

“The arms will most likely be different lengths in the end.”

“Don’t worry, darling.” He pecked her lips before hugging her and not letting go. “It’s flawless for me.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

A/N: My tags are always open :)

P.S. please don’t repost my work without specific written permission onto other platforms :)

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keilemlucent · 3 years

Text

pretty eyes & starshine: iii

(Mostly SFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i || part ii || part iii (epilogue)

word count: ~2.2k

Nothing ever really ends. It just grows in different ways with different parts.

warnings: description of post-injury, reader and hawks being traumatized but coping, a soft epilogue

the ending folks :’^) thank you for reading this far. here is something gentle for all of us, with some future, past, and the present for sweet starshine and keigo :’^)

enjoy loves 💞!!

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Keigo doesn’t break promises.

He loves white lies, the silly kind where he can rib you for a minute or two before soothing any ruffled feathers with quick kisses. He never leaves big wounds, nothing gaping or jagged, just loving pokes in your sides to get you to laugh and quip back at him.

He never goes back on his words that count.

His journeys out of the house remain short and rarely surprising. He never leaves without a goodbye, whether that’s a sleepy fuck or two, or a hand-written, tooth-rotting note on a scrap of paper next to a steaming cup of coffee on the kitchen island.

Keigo’s used to the open skies, rolling forever. The curve of the horizon is his primordial friend that he never got to say goodbye to, but he still chases it a few times a week. Little drives he takes by himself, hikes, and things that he let him feel a bit of that free wind in his shaggy hair.

It takes you a while, but you don’t look forlornly at the door anymore.

The awareness that of his absence from your little bastion lingers as you move throughout your day, but you know he’s good for his word. He always returns, bearing a toothy grin, and usually an armload of snacks or takeout.

It’s better, and you’re both a bit more alive.

...

Spring in the mountains reminds you of something you can’t place.

The memory of it is foggy, far-off and untouched. Probably a bit dampened from, you know, a year of trauma, but the feeling of it makes your quirk burst to light without fail.

It comes when you notice the little patches of wildflowers that spring up in new grass that rings around the porch. Heat flares in your eyes when you see the little seedlings you and Keigo planted into the window boxes begin to bud and flower.

The days get longer, sweeter, and the summer comes easily.

...

The bad days never cease, but you both learn to cope to some degree.

Your scar... cracks one day. You’re doing some half-assed stretches in the living room (mostly arching your back so Keigo gets a good peek of your ass) when it happens. Your right leg bends at the knee, and a resounding ‘crack’ and shatter echo off the walls of the cabin.

You both panic.

Keigo instantly urges you on the couch, trying to soothe your own panic with little coos from the back of his throat. You feel numb as Keigo shoves up your pant leg, looking for any damage.

The scar looks relatively unchanged. It hasn’t writhed since your days at the hospital, and its edges have only faded a shade or two with time. It’s long, obtrusive, and something you still avoid looking at.

All the same, Keigo traces the gnarly flesh, nimble fingers searching for the source of the sound. Any bit of pain he can identify and soothe, ideally, remove. The pads of his fingers drift to the crook of your knee, pressing against the shiny, black seam of the scar.

His eyes go wide before awe shines through, without a lick of fear.

He warns you to take a deep breath, ‘breath with him’, before pinching at the glassy center and pulling. There’s a bit of resistance as he pulls, you’re not sure what he’s doing, and you see ‘it’ before you really put it together.

Keigo holds ‘it’ up for you to see.

The inky glass of the scar.

Literal rock. Inky obsidian pulled from your flesh, about the size of your pinky and painfully jagged.

“W-what is that?” You asked, grabbing his wrist to examine the bit. “That’s... the scar?”

Keigo nods his head, scrutinizing it with you, pinching at it, “Weirdest scab I’ve ever seen.”

Scab.

You have never thought about calling the ugly root of the scar a ‘scab’ but looking at the way it so easily was pulled away, it makes sense. After a bit of examination and tender prodding, the tissue around it looks healthy, albeit thick and burned. The scar goes deep into your flesh, feels raw to the touch, but the skin that’s beneath it is somewhat alive. Maybe too alive, given how sensitive it is.

Nonetheless, you marvel at the little piece of volcanic glass that Keigo had pulled from you like it’s the most precious stone in the world.

...

It takes a long time to convince both of you.

Keigo never receives another call from Suits, ‘president’, what the fuck her name is. Thank fucking god. His snap seemed to have scared her and her crumbling organization away. You can only hope that it was for good.

The potential return comes from kindness rather than demands.

Calls from both Endeavor and Miruko, ‘Enji’ and ‘Rumi’ as they insist you call them. Rumi chatters on the phone for hours with Keigo every few weeks, puts the phone on speaker, and has you give your piece as well. You like her, she’s funny and loud and Keigo smiles when he talks to her.

Enji actually visits.

Once or twice, maybe more. You stop counting when the extra bodies in the cabin don’t have you breaking into a cold sweat anymore. It had taken a great bit of coaxing, but you opened your cabin up for the former pro and his entourage.

He brings along his daughter and the ‘Three Musketeers,’ as the media calls them. The boys train in the mountains nearby, never lingering too far based on the shouting from the blond one that echoes against the hills.

The rest of you settle into the walls of the cabin whenever they come to visit. It feels warmer than normal; it makes sweat gather under your arms and in droplets on your forehead. Even if you wanted to attribute the heat to the old flame hero’s presence, it wouldn’t account entirely for your thumping heart.

You work through it, slowly.

You like watching Keigo and Enji. They both look worn. Keigo’s a bit too young for grey hair, but Enji has more than his fair share around his temples. The beard around his jaw glints silver in the lowlight of the cabin whenever he tilts his head to sip at his tea.

They smile like old friends, talk like it too.

You end up in the kitchen a lot during their talks, distantly cooking and observing. You’re always listening to their stories, the banter. It’s hard to keep up with, a lingering vestige of Keigo’s old persona that clings to him and his mannerisms.

You don’t mind it, even if it feels foreign.

...

“Can you pass me that honey, dear?” Fuyumi asks, voice sweet and close.

You nod, sliding her the jar across the corner top. She carefully spoons a glob of the thick liquid into the four waiting mugs, humming just under her breath.

The cabin feels warm, and it’s not just the ambient heat Enji gives off.

The ‘three musketeers’ plan to camp in the mountainside and ‘rough it’. You couldn’t imagine the freshly-greened hills giving them too much trouble. They bicker, you have found, constantly. Blunt jabs from Enji’s son, met by explosive remarks from the blond one (why is his hero name so long? You can never remember it well.) Consider your growing aversion to loud noise, you like Deku the best. He seems like the peacekeeper (and peacemaker) of the trio and compliments your cooking. What a gem.

The guest room has been polished into an actual guest room. Fuyumi takes it, and Enji, bless his heart, takes the creaky fold-out couch. He doesn’t mind, he tells you, something about enjoying tending to the hearth at night.

Keigo calls the nights where they fill the house ‘sleepovers’, and he adores them.

They’re a bit overwhelming for you if you’re being honest. But Enji is far less intimidating now that you’ve seen him nodding off and slack-faced on your couch. Fuyumi has patience you’ll never fully understand, and babies you a bit, which you don’t welcome but don’t refuse either.

She does just that, scooping up three mugs after pushing your own toward you. You regather and sit next to Keigo at the kotatsu, slipping your legs under the thick blanket and sagging with the heat. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he presses you into his side, pressing a few kisses to the top of your head. It’s an idle action, habitual and welcomed as the conversation flows.

(Something about one of Keigo’s old sidekicks. Another about Endeavor’s agency, still chugging along with him at the helm, albeit not as an active hero. The new hero charts, the new rules established, legislation. Things are getting... safer, a semblance of order being re-established now that much of the League has been apprehended.)

(Things are settling, as horrifying as the change is.)

The thought of so much makes you sleepy, long-standing exhaustion heavy in your bones. You nod off at some point to the kind, safe voices.

Keigo coaxes you awake once the conversation dies down.

“Love,” he purrs, rubbing your side, “let’s get up now and get you to bed.”

You follow him, the way he rises and guides you to the bathroom to help you ready for bed. Enji is settling on the couch, tugging a few throws over himself on the futon. You give him a shallow wave with half-lidded eyes, meeting his own.

Eye contact feels hard, but you manage to hold it for a few seconds.

In the bathroom, you pop onto the counter and slowly brush your teeth. Sleep clings to you, and you know it’ll return quickly, but the process of moving and interacting wears you down so easily. Your toothbrush almost slips from your grip.

“Just a little more, and then you can rest, dove,” Keigo urges, reverent as he finishes his own routine in tandem. You watch as he splashes water on his face, wetting the tufts of hair that fall around his face.

The cabin feels warmer.

You notice it as you enter the bedroom, Keigo already hopping into bed to assemble the ‘nest’ as both affectionately refer to it. The old throw, a few extra soft blankets, and a buttery soft duvet must be arranged just right before he is satisfied.

Keigo knows it’s a remnant.

He carries plenty of them, little chunks of him that are old and worn, old and unused. He can shake them, can’t bury them, they just simply are.

The birdish ones are nice, he thinks. He likes that he can preen you. He loves that you can preen him. That you’ll indulge him in that way, running your hands through his overgrown hair. You detangle any knots, soothe the snarls and rub at his neck until he’s liquid in your lap.

He likes nesting. The cold of the cabin can be almost forgotten in the little nests he makes. The mountains of bedding and pillows that you both can settle in. It’s peaceful, and it's shared, and things are okay.

It’s all slow, and a bit tedious, things that the remnants of ‘Hawks’ scream and thrash at. But, really? Keigo has no reason to listen to a ghost. He tries not to let himself be haunted.

He indulges himself for the first time in his life, probably.

As Keigo nestles you into the sheets beside him, he gives you a bit of room to get comfortable. Adjusts your pillows how you like, tangle your legs together in the comfiest way. Your own version of nesting that makes his palms sweat and his words turn to mush.

You settle together, chest to chest, Keigo’s chin hooked over the top of your head.

“Did you have a good day?” You ask, soft and sleepy.

Keigo nods easily, “I did. Enji doesn’t seem to quite as much of a square as he was a few years ago.”

You snort, muffling a giggle into his chest, “He’s definitely a little bit of a square. But I like him.”

“He offered to host us at the estate if we ever want to go back.”

You swallow, thick and slow, and try to bury yourself deeper in him, “... Do you want to go back?”

“No.” He pauses. “Maybe. Not yet, and not anytime soon. But the offer is on the table. It’s nice to have, even if we don’t take it.”

It’s insurance, somewhere else to tuck yourselves away if the mountains stop favoring you.

The thought of the future makes your head spin, as it tends to. The scar aches, but maybe it’s a tad duller than it was a few months ago. The pains only last a few moments, only stab so deeply. The place where the little chunk of obsidian fell out doesn’t feel quite as tender.

You lay your cheek on Keigo’s chest, your breath coming in time with his.

“‘M tired,” You murmur into his chest. “Can I sleep?”

“Of course, starshine.” He pushes back your hair, clears your forehead to press his lips to the skin, lightly. Little kisses piling up on top of each other. “Get some rest.”

“You too, pretty eyes.”

You both need it. For more than just a day with the folks who stuck around. You and Keigo need more rest than a being can responsibly accumulate during a human life. There are things to be stitched, worn parts of you that need tending to, and burns that’ll need salve until the day you die. It’s not any less than it was in the month’s past.

But it’s easier to manage.

You snuggle into Keigo’s chest, drifting off to the thought of fresh coffee and crackling heat.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

thank you for reading!!💞

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #my hero academia #mha fanfic #mha x reader #hawks imagines #wow :'^)#thank y'all for reading

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animebaby00 · 4 years

Text

I'll Never Stop Waiting (Armin Arlert x Reader) - One-shot

Instagram Request: Armin becomes separated from Y/N after an expedition and is unconvinced they're dead.

Warning: (Mild use of language)

*5 years prior

Ack, Y/N, Eren, Mikasa ! Wait up !"

A young, brown haired boy no older than 10 looked behind his shoulder, a girl with black hair trailing right behind him, "Come on Armin ! Don't tell me you can't run faster than that ! We're gonna miss the scouts' return !"

Armin clenched his eyes shut, legs wobbling underneath him as he came to a stop, panting for breath, "I - I know but -"

He could hear feet walking towards him and a hand on his shoulder.

"Eren, just stop and let him catch up will ya ?"

The boy looked behind him and stopped again, "Awe not you too, Y/N ! We're gonna be-"

"Late. I got it." You said flatly, waving a hand, "You and Mikasa go on ahead. We'll catch up with you."

"Hmmmm….okay. But make sure you hurry !"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Eren gave a toothy grin and ran on ahead with Mikasa trailing right behind him as you fully approached the panting blonde.

"You okay ?"

Armin looked up at you with one eye,."Yeah. I-I'm fine. But...you didn't have to do that. "

You shrugged, "Hey, Eren needs to be put in his place sometimes. Especially when he's not aware that one of his friends needs help."

Armin stood up a little straighter ," He's not a bad person."

"I'm not saying he's bad. I'm just saying he needs to act a little more aware and not act so...Eren."

Armin looked off "He'd probably explode if he heard you say that."

"Exactly my point. And let him. Maybe some of that explosion will break some of his skull and let more brain grow in."

At this, Armin giggled and took a few steps forward.

"Come on, we better get going," he shyly held a hand out, "Thank you waiting."

You smiled and gladly took his hand, squeezing it.

"I'm your friend. I'll never stop waiting for you."

~~~~~~~

Present*

It was bright. Unbearingly so even through closed eyelids. His head was pounding as the ray from the light above him pierced past the thin skin adorned with blonde lashes.

He blinked, he groaned, before he finally opened them fully to meet the wooden beams of a ceiling and a hanging, dome shielded lightbulb, and the faint pitter patter of raindrops were thumping against the roof.

He was inside. But how did he get here? God, his memory was so fuzzy.

"Armin !"

His eyes darted to the right, vision still plagued by whatever happened. But the lean, boyish outline, messy brown hair, and tone of voice was enough to help him identify the individual.

"E-eren?" He rasped.

"Oh, thank God…I'm so glad you're awake! Are you feeling okay? Do you-"

"Eren. Calm down."

That feminine voice. He turned his head to the left. Black hair. Red scarf.

"M-Mikasa ?"

"Mm. Are you okay?" She asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I...I think so? Where am I? What happened?"

"You're in the infirmary." Mikasa said softly.

"Wha-?"

"The expedition didn't go as planned," Eren interrupted , "A giant group of titans began attacking 2 of our backup groups so we had to retreat. Christ….it was a goddamn bloodbath out there."

Armin's eyes widened, "H-how many…?"

"...27."

The blonde shuddered. So many people.

"How did I get here ?" He asked dryly, " I was on backup but we didn't…?"

"They called you upwards since you weren't being attacked." Mikasa explained, " But mid retreat it looked like your 3DM gear malfunctioned and you fell from the wall of a cliff. We found you and carried you back in a wagon."

Armin nodded. No wonder his body felt like it had been beaten to a pulp.

But something still didn't feel right.

...wait.

"Where's Y/N ?" Armin asked, looking between his two friends, " They were in the backup C with me. Why aren't they here?"

At this, Eren grimaced and looked off to the side while Mikasa buried her chin into the piece of red fabric around her neck.

Armin's breath hitched, "G-guys?"

"It was...really bad out there Armin." Eren admitted, running a hand over his face, "And honestly, we don't remember much. But in the midst of everything...we didn't see Y/N at all on the way back. We...don't know where they are…"

"W-what ?" Armin trembled, eyes widening.

Mikasa reached a hand out in noticing the blonde's troubled state, "Armin-"

"S-so your telling me," he quaked, face engraved with fear, "That Y/N...is out there," he pointed at the glass windows in the back of the room with a trembling finger, "B-by themselves ? Lost, in the dark and rain. Possibly surrounded by titans ? A-and possibly…" good god this word made him feel sick to his stomach.

"D...dead?"

Eren pressed his lips together and nodded while Mikasa looked down the bed, and Armin could have sworn he saw the outline of a few tears in her eyes.

Something inside him snapped, before he completely lost it.

"N-no…" he stuttered, shifting his legs upward, "No. No, they can't be…"

"Armin, please," Mikasa said desperately, "I know your upset but-"

"No ! I-I won't accept that ! T-they have to be okay !"

Armin shifted his body to the side and stood shakily from the bed, bones and muscles screaming at him to stop. But he didn't, and made his way to the door.

"Armin ! What the hell are you doing ?!" Eren exclaimed.

"I-It's not possible ! T-they have to be alive ! We have to help them !"

"Armin, lay back down" Mikasa argued, "You need-"

"SHUT UP !"

Both Eren and Mikasa froze, completely shocked by Amrin's outburst and we're even more shocked when, even in his state, he managed to hastily move out of the move and down the hall.

They were frozen from his actions, almost not even realizing what he was doing until the loud echoes of him calling out your name and words of refusal burst through the walls of the building.

"Shit...Armin !" Eren called, running after him. But Mikasa just stayed at the door, first clutched over her heart.

It couldn't be true. He didn't want to believe it.

You were his best friend. You were always there for him when no one else could be. You were always sweet, kind, considerate, and strong.

So very strong.

You didn't deserve this fate.

"Y/N !" Armin screamed, rushing past corridors, other soldiers, even other friends of his. And they all simply looked down at the floor upon hearing your name.

Armin didn't even pause in his hasteful movements as he arrived at a large oak door and pushed it open, revealing a dark sheet of night and rain. But that didn't stop him from moving forward, clothes and body becoming immediately drenched after taking only a few lunged steps away from the building.

"Y/N !" He cried, wiping at his snot and tear covered face, "WHERE ARE YOU ?!"

His eyes darted around desperately, hoping to see your face in the near pitch black, soaked darkness, wishing that maybe you had just gotten lost in a crowd or caught up with some old friends and weren't going to return until late.

The screams didn't stop,even as his throat grew raw, even as it stung everytime he swallowed his gasping, broken breaths. He prayed to Wall Maria that he would eventually hear the sound of your voice calling back to him, that you would run up with your own, watered down clothes, carrying that nonchalant smile that he adored so much.

But you never did.

~~~~~~~

A memorial was held for you a week later.

There was no report of the findings of your body or any news of the possibility that you were still alive.

Everyone was there, clad in their uniforms as the proceedings commenced in commemorating your services and honor that you put forth to the scouts. The weather was a drastic change from a mere 7 days ago, the dreary, cold, wet rain replaced with a warm sunset and a cool breeze.

Too calm of weather for the event at hand.

All stood tall as they watched the empty coffin slowly lower into the ground, the offering bouquets of flowers and lit candles put temporarily off to the side in waiting until the deed was done.

So many words were spoken, so many memories were shared, and so many tears were shed as your comrades spoke of you in lights that made you sound like the most wonderful and most pure bring on earth.

The crowd remained until nightfall until it slowly started to diminish by one to two people at a time, until there was only one person left.

Armin.

He was quiet the whole ceremony. He only listened, most of the words muffled in his distracted hearing, still only focused on the possibility of missing your voice if by some miracle you turned up at your own funeral, making this whole thing a cruel yet life-relieving joke.

But yet again, his please weren't answered.

However he still wasn't convinced.

They hadn't found any remnants of your uniform or any broken 3DM gear in the areas they searched a few days after the expedition. They didn't have anything solid.

They had no proof that you were dead.

Armin stepped forward, a bouquet of F/F's squeezed in a clammy palm. He gently laid them down on top of all the other offerings presented to you, feeling the tears as they began pooling in his eyes.

"Y/N… I promise…no matter where you are…"

He brought his fingers to his lips and kissed them, before reaching out to smooth them over the polished rock of your gravestone, whispering those same words you had told him long ago.

"I'll never stop waiting for you…

A booming voice sounded from the watchtower "CADET L/N SPOTTED IN THE DISTANCE ! OPEN THE GATES !"

#armin x y/n #armin arlert #attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #armin x reader #separation #scared #oneshot

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shinyatiny · 3 years

Text

Flower Crown - yungi

Chapter five: Exchange glances

_____________________________

The entire village was busy as the townsfolk prepared for the festival. People had decorated the numerous streetlights with glorious-looking red lanterns, and as it was already noon, the lanterns illuminated a noble path all the way to the arena. It was like a personal red carpet for anyone who was headed there. The children were throwing flower petals on the streets to welcome the honorable guests to the village, making both Jongho and Mingi smile with adoration.

Some of the villagers greeted Mingi as the pair waltzed through the crowd of people. He tried giving them a polite nod back but failed miserably, awkwardly smiling as he gave up being polished. Jongho laughed at Mingi's stiffness, gaining a grumpy huff from him as a response. "The town's very lively today." He muttered, subconsciously gripping Mingi's hand tighter as he lead him through the thick crowds of people. It usually didn't take much time to reach the huge fighting arena but considering the streets were filled with people from all over the continent, it was harder to get there. "I've never seen so many people in one place. Where I come from, houses are scattered everywhere on the mountains."

Mingi stared at Jongho's (rather muscular) back for a hot second before answering. "Oh yeah! I forgot the whole berserker clan lives on the mountains." He pondered as the corners of his mouth quirked up a little. "Isn't it cold up there?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes shining in fascination towards the other's race.

The berserker hummed, thinking of a fitting answer, his other hand in his pocket. "No, not really. I guess we're built to withstand cold weather. But hot weather, that's something I dislike quite a bit." He admitted, a sweet smile on his lips. "It makes my skin dry."

"Oh? I've never read about that." Mingi mumbled, kicking a small rock on the ground. "As I said, I've never seen a berserker before so this is a big deal for me. I've only read about your kind from my books." He mentioned with an adorable pout as if he was embarrassed he didn't have much knowledge about Jongho's people.

"You've read about berserkers?" The other quirked up an eyebrow as if Mingi could see it. He slowed down because of their heated conversation, figuring out talking with Mingi wasn't bad. "I'm intrigued now. What have you learned?" He grinned, looking over his shoulder.

The elf let out a breathy chuckle, covering his mouth with the palm of his hand like a fine lady of sorts. "Well for starters, berserkers have horns on their head and it's their most distinctive feature after their huge size. Although it seems you aren't really the model berserker out there. Even my father didn't realize." He added. Jongho nodded nonchalantly, anticipation written on his features as if he was waiting for something to happen. And when Mingi finally asked the burning question, Jongho got silent immediately.

"Why don't you have horns, by the way?"

Like a deer caught in headlights, Jongho froze in his steps, staring right ahead at the huge shadow of an arena. Mingi's eyes widened as he realized he had asked a question he never should have. His eyes found the gravel path under his feet and he gently took his hand out of the tight grip Jongho had it in. "I — I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked! I-"

"It's fine, Mingi. Don't worry about it." Jongho assured, turning around to look at the taller elf behind him. He noticed how uncomfortable Mingi looked at the moment, guilt filling his stomach, making him feel worse. His eyes found the hand he had been holding onto just a minute ago. Mingi was keeping his fist close to his chest as if he was afraid to move. "I'd rather not talk about it here. It's a lengthy and saddening story and I believe it'd be better if I were to leave it for next time." He lowered his gaze towards the ground. "Sorry."

"It's fine! I'm okay with that..." Mingi bit his lower lip, guilt washing over him like an enormous wave, getting rid of the happy thoughts in his mind instantly. "I apologize for making you feel uneasy, Jongho. That was never my intention." He mumbled, taking in a sharp breath. "I can see this topic brings you bad memories, so let's change it, shall we?" He faked a smile, rubbing his markings through the silky shirt. "I believe I was talking about what I had learned about berserkers from my books."

"Y — yeah."

"I know berserkers are known for not expressing their emotions too often. They rely on their own strength more than their emotions and I guess that's understandable in some aspects." He explained as if Jongho wasn't a berserker himself, a small but excited smile on his features. "Although I must admit, you seem quite different from what the books have described." He muttered to himself quietly, wishing Jongho didn't hear him, but he did. "Anyway, those are some of the things I've read about your kind. I don't want to keep the other contestants waiting, so maybe we should resume our walk there."

"You aren't wrong about the whole 'known for not using their emotions' thing. I guess we use our brains less than others and use our heads instead." Jongho added, slowly turning around and taking his first step towards the arena, again. "It's harder for some. For example, I don't have a hard time with it most of the time, but there have been days when I have shut down entirely and haven't talked to anyone. No one really knows what causes this but I guess it's the class. Berserkers are like that, and no one really questions it."

Mingi lingered behind Jongho as he took some more steps, lips pursed into a thin line as he carefully listened to every single word. Some of the townspeople made way for them when they realized it was the prince and waved at him. Mingi looked down in embarrassment, almost halting in his steps when a hand grabbed his. He looked up to see Jongho holding his hand once again in a tight grip, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can we hurry up?" Mingi said shyly, accepting the warm hand. "I dislike crowds."

"Of course," Jongho said, gently showing his gummy smile to the taller elf. He decided to ignore the bad memories and focus on Mingi's mood which had decreased tremendously when he had mentioned Jongho's missing horns. Of course, he felt bad for making Mingi feel that way, but how could he have known Mingi was going to ask something like that. "I'll take a detour so we can get there faster, okay?" He glanced at the other over his shoulder, his smile wavering as he saw Mingi's crestfallen expression.

"You don't need to do that. Just get me out of here, please." Mingi pleaded with a whimper, begged which made Jongho's heart drop instantly. Even if they've known each other for less than a day, the berserker didn't like seeing someone get uncomfortable because of him.

"I know, but I figured you'd want to see the other fighters. You'd see what you're going against in a few hours." Jongho explained while cocking his head to the side a little. "It would be the perfect opportunity to gain some information about the contestants in my opinion." He said nonchalantly, giving Mingi a stiff nod before grabbing his hand again. "Come on, we gotta hurry."

"Okay, fine."

°❀°

And there it was, the fighting arena, big and majestic in size. People were lined up by the huge metal gate, two guards with sharp, long spears standing on both sides, preventing the people from barging in. Mingi and Jongho wandered closer to the gates but kept their distance from the group of people since they weren't attending as spectators. The berserker glanced at Mingi and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's grander than I remembered." He hummed, gazing up at the huge arena up ahead. "I wish there was something like this on the mountains. The only entertaining thing I can recollect regarding my childhood was a playground I visited as a kid." He laughed, a warm smile plastered on his lips.

Mingi cocked his head to the side, a frown engulfing his peaceful expression. Every time Jongho has talked about his time on the mountains, there's been this melancholic feeling in the air, like something was completely missing. Although the way the guard talked about it didn't seem too concerning, it rang some bells in Mingi's head. "Oh please, I'm sure there's something you cherish about that place." He smiled, trying not to show his inner thoughts to the other. He didn't want to worry Jongho, after all. "I mean, this village isn't interesting either. There's only this large arena in the heart of the town and that's about it. Some petite workshops here and there and the rest are residences."

As if something triggered a memory in Jongho's mind, he went quiet for a minute. Mingi noticed the way he almost withdrew from the conversation, looking for an answer on his expression. The berserker seemed to be in a completely different world for a second. After a couple more minutes Jongho had seemed to gather his thoughts and smiled which resembled a fake smile to Mingi. "I wish I could tell you." He finally stated, turning his gaze away from Mingi and glancing at their surroundings in thought. "Could you stay here while I question the guards?"

"O- of course," Mingi said, stuttering as he was still processing Jongho's answer in his mind. That just proved he had no idea what kind of person he was. He was completely in the dark about the other's past and if he was being completely honest, it made him slightly afraid. The fact that he had been so comfortable around Jongho frightened him quite a bit, it felt like they had known each other for a long time, like he had known Seonghwa. But in reality, they've known for less than a day. "I'll wait here until you return, go ahead, yeah." He smiled awkwardly, still held by his thoughts.

Mingi watched as Jongho made a beeline to the guards, his fluffy red hair bouncing as he walked. The people in the line yelled at him, furious that Jongho had casually walked past them and was now the first in line. Mingi could only watch and observe from the distance as the guard and Jongho conversed.

"Mingi!" An awfully familiar voice boomed from behind him. Seonghwa had come to see him.

Mingi beamed when he realized it had been his dear friend who had approached him. The pressure in his chest calmed down even if it was temporary, Seonghwa's presence affected him and he couldn't deny it. Even if it was for a few minutes, the world around him seemed to calm down and all he could focus on was his friend who was warmly smiling and patiently waiting for an answer. "You came!" Mingi grinned, waiting for Seonghwa to initiate something, a reaction, something. And when Seonghwa simply smiled brighter at his tall friend and he wrapped his arms around Mingi's torso, he grew worried. "Seonghwa?"

The older elf hummed next to Mingi's ear, causing goosebumps all over his skin. "I'm sorry you have to do this, Mingi." He mumbled, arms tightening around Mingi's waist. The said elf sighed and leaned into the hug, giving Seonghwa time to collect his thoughts in peace. The topic sure wasn't anything cheerful. "Your father's in the wrong here, for making you go through this. Fuck, I should've prevented this from occurring." He hissed, fists gripping onto Mingi's silky shirt.

"Hey, you're not the cause of this, Hwa," Mingi mumbled, running his hand up and down Seonghwa's back in a calming manner. The other only sighed in contentment as he relaxed more into the hug. They didn't care about the stares they got anymore, the situation was too intimate for anyone to stop it. "Please, don't condemn yourself because of my shitty life. It's not your fault, not in a million years."

A dry chuckle left Seonghwa's lips at Mingi's remark. He pulled away, hands still on Mingi's hips, just for good measure. "I know, dear. I know." He sighed, closing his eyes with a pout. "I just — I don't want you to get injured. I'm aware there are healers there when the competition starts but what if something happens and even they cannot heal you? What if you lose an arm o-or a leg or something? I could never forgive myself..."

And when Seonghwa was done with his rant, Mingi giggled, he fucking giggled. When Seonghwa was worrying his ass off, his friend brushed all of the thoughts away as if he was some kind of a god. "I'm not going to get hurt, Hwa-"

"Promise me. Promise me you won't get hurt, please." Seonghwa whimpered, looking straight into Mingi's brown eyes. "I'd rather not dwell in guilt... Mingi, I've known you for years and years, you getting hurt would — it would break me. I don't know if I'd survive with the guilt, knowing I could've prevented this all from happening. So please, tell me it's going to be alright and promise me you won't get hurt out there."

Seonghwa was desperate, that was clear. To be honest, Mingi was a little moved because Seonghwa clearly cared dearly for him and treasured him as a friend. It made him happy. But this was something he couldn't promise even if he wanted to, the opponent is always unpredictable whether he liked it or not. There's no way he could know their next move, he wasn't a mind-reader. "Seonghwa... you know I can't promise you that..." He murmured, looking down at the gravel path under his feet. "The opponent is unpredictable, I don't know what they're capable of doing. And you know I'm not an expert in combat, I suck, to be honest. I don't even know what I have to do out there! How the hell am I supposed to fight in front of everyone; in front of my father when I have no idea what I'm doing?"

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," Seonghwa pursed his lips together, taking Mingi's hand and pressing his lips on the soft skin. Mingi widened his eyes in surprise but didn't comment on it. Seonghwa must be distressed about the whole competition. "Just know I'll be watching you in the audience among the others. I'll stop the fight if I see you getting hurt, with force if I have to." He smiled sadly, letting go of Mingi's hand. A thousand words were said without speaking with that simple gesture and Mingi understood every single one. "Were you waiting for someone?" Seonghwa asked, letting the heavy topic finally go.

"I — yeah. I was waiting for my guard to come back." Mingi smiled awkwardly, glancing at Jongho who was still chatting with the other guard. "He went to talk with the other guards. I guess he had something to ask from them." He hummed, keeping his eyes fixed on Jongho's figure. "You know, he's an interesting guy, I must say."

Seonghwa tilted his head to the side, waiting for Mingi to continue. "How so?"

"He's not from our village; he's not an elf, Hwa," Mingi stated nonchalantly, a sigh leaving his lips. He didn't expect the awestruck expression in Seonghwa's features when he turned to look at him. "What? As if there aren't any other species walking around town right now. He's just someone I never thought could join my father's forces, that's all."

As if he had just heard a huge secret, the silver-haired widened his eyes in disbelief, eyeing Mingi as if he was asking if what he had said was true or not. "You're kidding." He murmured. "How the hell is he a guard if he's not an elf? You know very well your father doesn't allow anybody to join his ranks, don't you?"

"I'm aware of that, yeah." Mingi sighed. "But I know what he is; he's a berserker-"

"He's a what now?!" Seonghwa interrupted with a restrained yell, eyes wide as plates. A member of the berserker clan living among elves wasn't what he was expecting at all. It was unheard of. "Mingi, that's extremely dangerous, you know that right? And how do you even know he's one of them? He doesn't even have horns and he's shorter than you." He questioned, a confused expression on his features as he observed Mingi's look.

"He told me," Mingi answered quietly, glancing away from his friend. "And how do you even know of this stuff? Have you met him before?" He countered, a similar expression to Seonghwa's on his features now. "You seem to know a lot about berserkers, Hwa." Seonghwa was about to reply but Mingi beat him to it, ignoring the irritated look on his friend's face as he continued to speak louder. "In any case, I don't think Jongho's dangerous. He's proved himself to be calm and collected, so in my opinion, there's nothing to be worried about."

"Mingi, a berserker in an elf village is unheard of! It's a long way to this village from the mountains, you know that. He would've had to walk for months to reach this village. Do you think he'd be that desperate to join your father's forces? Because I don't, there's no way that's the only motivation behind his leave." Seonghwa said with his jaw clenched. "I don't think you understand how grave this situation is, Mingi."

"I-"

"What're you guys talking about?" A familiar voice called out. Mingi sighed and turned to look at Jongho who was running toward his with a wide grin, waving his hand like a child. "Mingi, I know where we have to go now! The guard said the waiting room is there, in that big building next to the arena." He stated, pointing at a semi-worn-out building in the distance. The building's grey, moss-covered walls created a haunting picture in Mingi's mind and he sure wished the building would look better on the inside. The furniture better be nice. "And who's this? Is he your friend?" Jongho cocked his head to the side, an innocent pout on his lips.

Seonghwa huffed and looked away from the red-haired, sticking close to the taller elf. "I'm Seonghwa, Park Seonghwa." He said sternly, gripping onto Mingi's left arm. "I own a local jewelry shop here." He added, ending the conversation right there. Jongho blinked in confusion, slowly nodding with pursed lips. It seems Jongho hadn't realized Seonghwa's annoyed mood yet, and that's what Mingi was fearing.

"Oh! I don't think we've met yet." Jongho smiled brightly, his gums showing. Seonghwa hummed, looking at the hand in front of him, contemplating whether to shake it or not, but he didn't necessarily fancy being impolite. "Uh, Choi Jongho. That's my name if you didn't know it already. I don't know if Mingi mentioned me when I was talking with the other guards." He explained, a blush dancing on his cheeks out of pure embarrassment.

"No, he mentioned you, just not your name," Seonghwa said calmly, nibbling with his dangling earring. The piece of jewelry was one of his own creations; a silver crow with a blue jewel as its eye. A few years back, Mingi had mentioned it looked pretty on him and since then he's been wearing it almost every day, hoping to get some kind of a reaction out of the younger elf. "I heard you're not from around here, Jongho," Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, eyeing the berserker up and down.

Jongho's lip twitched, a look of horror replacing his features for a split second before it was replaced with a worried look. "I-" He started, worriedly glancing at Mingi's direction as if asking for help. "Yeah you — you could say that." He stuttered, scratching his nape out of awkwardness. "Did — have you heard anything else about me?"

Seonghwa snickered, finally letting go of Mingi's arm, a serious expression replacing his previous one. "Just the fact that you aren't an elf." He said. Mingi opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, grabbing Seonghwa's hand, feeling the several rings around his fingers. Seonghwa glanced over his shoulder at Mingi, his full attention on him and him only. "Mingi?" He asked, voice turning soft as if a switch was flicked just now. "Is something wrong?"

"Please, don't force the topic on him..." Mingi mumbled, some extra incoherent words leaving his lips in a rush. Seonghwa nodded gently, shifting his glare to Jongho. "Hwa, the festival should be beginning shortly, I have to go."

"I understand," Seonghwa mumbled, wrapping his arms around Mingi's waist one more time to hug him. The hug was swift, but it warmed his heart and calmed him down. Mingi smiled at the older's touchiness, accepting every little hug and kiss that was presented to him. "Be careful, Gigi. I'll be watching you." Seonghwa said, a smile decorating his lips wonderfully.

" I will," Mingi giggled at the cute nickname, unwrapping his arms around Seonghwa's torso. He looked at Jongho who was awkwardly watching the two interact with pursed lips. "Come on Jongho, let's go. You said you know the way to the waiting room, didn't you?" Mingi chuckled.

"Of course," Jongho said hastily, sprinting to his side immediately. "This way."

"Alright," Mingi smiled. "Bye, Hwa. We'll be seeing each other after the festival."

"Yeah, see you."

°❀°

Jongho pushed the heavy door open, a creak following it. It lead them to a hallway that was lit by the same red lanterns which were hanging from the streetlights. It wasn't anything special, just an ordinary hallway, a long one. But compared to the moss-ridden walls, the inside was much nicer. "Well then, shall we go?" Jongho raised an eyebrow, nudging the other playfully on his shoulder. A small yelp left Mingi's lips at the nudge but he brushed the thought away with a roll of his eyes.

As Jongho closed the wooden door behind him, Mingi observed the hallway, seeing a few people talking up ahead. The closer they got to them, the more Mingi began to realize they weren't from his village, the more he began to realize they weren't elves, to begin with. He halted in his steps, frozen in place as he watched the group interact with each other. What gained his attention was the unusual color of their hair; bright, royal blue. He had never seen anyone with blue hair before, at least not in his village and it intrigued him. It also made him fearful.

"What's he staring at us?"

"I don't know, ignore him. He's a weirdo."

Mingi hadn't even noticed that he had been staring at the group. What made him realize was the sudden silence in the hallway and the countless whispers sent his way. With a blink, he looked away from the group and turned to Jongho who was watching with narrowed eyes, observing the unknown people. He glanced at Mingi who seemed to be unsure of the situation himself and pushed the said elf behind him. "Are you guys going to compete in the festival?" He called for them, gaining their attention. Mingi widened his eyes and was ready to silence him but Jongho kept going. "If not, I have to kindly ask you to leave, this place is for competitors only."

This was one of the moments Mingi would like to bury himself in a hole and disappear from sight. He didn't want to cause any problems and Jongho had seemed to notice his distress as well, placing a hand on his shoulder for reassurance. "Maybe it's not a good idea to pick a fight with those guys, Jongho..." Mingi whispered behind the berserker, gripping onto his shirt for comfort even though he was towering over him because of the height difference. "Jongho-"

"Who are you to tell us that? Are you a competitor yourself Mr. muscle man?" One of the men laughed slyly, leaning against the wooden wall. "You look lost yourselves. Do you need help finding your way out? Out of this village perhaps?" He said with a lazy smirk. This made Jongho's lip twitch in annoyance and he sure hoped it wasn't visible because he was boiling with anger inside.

"Oh, I'm not the one who's fighting, prince Mingi is," Jongho said with a smooth grin, pointing at Mingi who was standing behind him, nervously biting his lip, almost drawing blood from it. If he could've, he would've loved to show them their reaction when he had mentioned Mingi's title, but oh well. "It's his first time being here, so obviously, seeing new people makes him nervous."

The man who had laughed shut up quickly, pursing his lips together and spewing something that seemed to be countless curse words. "Sure." He rolled his eyes in irritation, glaring at Mingi before ignoring the pair completely. Jongho laughed silently, taking Mingi's hand and leading him to the right room on the left. The elf followed put behind him and looked around the building in awe.

When they reached the main building Mingi was breath-taken by the interior of the waiting room. For starters, it was gloriously decorated with wine-red wallpapers with golden flowers embedded into it. Two huge pillars that were at least 4 meters tall stood before him, looking grand as ever. The room was bustling with life, people everywhere. It didn't tone down his anxiety at all and even Jongho seemed to pick up on this, leading him towards a less-crowded corner. Although the festival was only beginning, everyone was already seated at the long tables, glasses full of what looked (and smelled) like their finest grape wine.

Their attires were something Mingi was blown by, majestic and noble-like. He felt rather small in everyone's presence but ignored the gut-twisting feeling in his stomach and focused on the scent of wine and food in the air. Some of the guests had noticed the elf prince and his guard, eyeing the pair from afar like they were something unknown to them. The hall got fairly quiet when they settled down on some benches next to the wall, everyone's attention thoroughly on Mingi and his companion.

The elf gulped down the lump in his throat, looking down at his shiny black shoes for comfort (of course this didn't really help). Cocking his head to the side, he whispered something to Jongho so quietly even the berserker didn't hear him. With a silent curse, he spoke a little louder. "Why's everyone staring at us?" He whisper-yelled, a bead of sweat forming on his neck. "This definitely isn't what I had expected. I hope it won't be like this when we get to the main arena."

"Ever considered they might be staring because of how you look, Mingi?" Jongho countered, whispering back. Mingi widened his eyes looking down at his outfit in confusion as if there was something wrong with his attire. "You look excellent, don't worry. I think everyone's staring at you because you look too fancy for this event. They're jealous." He grinned lazily.

"Me? Too fancy?" Mingi said, a crease forming between his brows. He switched his gaze from his pants to Jongho only to see him smiling widely at him, small crescents forming in his eyes. It almost, almost melted the iceberg of nervousness in his heart, but not entirely. Despite the warm aura Jongho radiated, Mingi couldn't help but feel a little on edge about the whole situation. He never wanted this in the first place as he was forced to compete by his father's orders. Seonghwa's words made him even more nervous. "They can stare all they want, I don't care. It's not like I look terrible." He grinned back, trying to contain the disappointment in his heart.

"Right, of course-"

"I will not let you fight with that outfit! You look hideous, disgusting!" A sudden, loud voice resounded in the hall. Everyone turned their heads towards the abrupt noise at the door, Mingi and Jongho included. "Your piercings are a disgrace here, I won't tolerate something this sickening here, get out of here before I'll throw you out myself!"

"Come on, this?" Another voice, a deeper one responded, a hint of playfulness in it. "You're saying this is hideous? Do you not have an eye for good clothing?"

"I'm saying this outfit of yours isn't pleasing to look at. As I said, it looks terrible on you." The previous man yelled impatiently. Mingi had spotted the yelling man at the doorway, shouting at someone tall, very tall. "Yunho, please go change your outfit into something more traditional, I beg of you." He pleaded, stiff shoulders slumping down in defeat when the other only shook his head. "You're going to compete in that?"

"Why of course I will. Why wouldn't I? I want to fight with style, Mr. Daesung. I'm sure you understand." The man named Yunho declared, quirking up an eyebrow as the corners of his lips lifted upwards. "Also, who are you to boss me around? I don't live in our village anymore so why would I need to follow those silly rules?" He said, leaning against the doorway. "I'm here to have a little fun since the chief sent me an invitation letter, that's all. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go sit somewhere more peaceful." He added with a wide, warm grin.

Everyone's eyes were glued on Yunho's figure as he stepped into the awkwardly silent hall, looking around for an empty seat someplace quiet. Mingi, too, was watching the unknown man, but something more interesting piqued interest in him; his outfit.

This man named Yunho was drop-dead gorgeous. Mingi could've sworn he saw something shimmering under the see-through shirt he was wearing. Yunho's outfit seemed to gain attention from the other guests as well considering what he was wearing was nothing like the traditional outfits everyone else had on. It was closer to Mingi's outfit which made him glad he wasn't the only one with taste. Jongho seemed to ignore the commotion as he was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

And when Yunho seated himself on a wooden chair situated on the opposite wall, his silky shirt shifted with his movements. Mingi's eyes went wide when he saw the other. Yunho's gorgeous markings reached from his back all the way to his toned stomach. The dark tattoos gracefully complimented the golden piercing on his belly which made Mingi's heart race for some reason or another.

Then it happened. A smirk, a simple smirk from him was able to set Mingi's cheeks aflame and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. It probably wasn't since the stares he got from Yunho were more intense than the ones his father gave him this morning.

For the first time in a while, Mingi was completely flustered because of someone, and that someone was Yunho whom he didn't even know.

#ateez #yunho #mingi #yungi #ao3 #ateez yungi #jongho #ao3 writer #writer #fanfiction #ao3 author #elves #fluff #cute

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you-did-well-moon · 4 years

Text

Sf9 reaction to s/o on their period

Type: fluff uwuwuuwu

A/n: oh god, fun fact, I got my first period on Halloween. I think I laughed too hard and it just- Moving on. I don't have a lot of cramps, but when I do, they’re bad T-T. I remember rolling around the floor screaming “I don't want to be a girl anymore” while my mom watched from the kitchen. She then told all my aunts. ahaha actually moving on now. On to the reaction. Don't be afraid to talk to me or to request - Moon

Youngbin

Youngbin strikes me as the type of person to make sure he really wants a relationship with someone before confessing, so you’re basically his ride or die and he’d do anything for you. That being said, congratulations, you have this boy wrapped around your finger. Your boyfriend is now your personal maid. He’s the type to make you feel good. Your tummy hurts? He’s trying to make it better by massaging it. You're suddenly upset with him because of a mood swing? Youngbin will take it like a champ smiling softly at you and crushing you into his arms while wondering how you can be so cute while pouting at him for accidentally leaving your favorite cup too high for you to reach. Youngbin already showers you in compliments, but he always manages to take it up a notch while you’re on your days of the month. Youngbin will surprise you with cute little things like a bath with a bath bomb and rose petals, your favorite flowers, or proposing to bake a cake together and making a mess of the kitchen.

“Your pants don't fit because your tummy is bloated babe. It’s normal. Just wear some sweatpants. You look beautiful either way”

Inseong

Every time, Inseong will be a bit awkward with you. Not because you’re on your period, but because he wants to do nice things for you. He’s just worried he’s doing too much or that he’s being clingy. Eventually, (after some reassurance from you because he will end up talking to you about it) he’ll grow comfortable trying to take your mind off things by doing sweet random gestures. If you’re craving something, you’ll find it on your bed by the end of the day with a sticky note accompanied by a cute pick-up line on it. If you’re on your way to work/school, Inseong will send you a text to check your gallery where you find silly selfies he took while you were probably getting ready. He will make you lay your head on his lap with tinted cheeks, and he'll read to you even exaggerating some of the dialogue parts to make you laugh. If you’re having a particular bad day, you will get met with Inseong’s unsure smile with a blanket fort behind him and your favorite movie ready to play on his laptop.

“Eh? Those cookies on your bed? Me? No no, you got it all wrong. It was probably Casper trying to make one of the most angelic people in the world show her lovely smile again”

Jaeyoon

Jaeyoon’s energy will literally sky rocket every time you're on your time of the month. Homeboy is probably preparing jokes for you two weeks prior to your period (yes, he will keep track of your period that's just how much of a boyfriend he is). He loves seeing his girl laugh, and he wants you to spend the week your mood usually gets bought down happy. Especially because of him. This dude will not be afraid to tease you. Nothing about your period like staining the bed. He teases you about things he’s always teased you about like tripping on nothing. If you’re having a particularly bad day and Jaeyoon’s lighthearted teasing gets to you, he won’t hesitate to smother you in kisses. If you’re still mad at him, he’ll follow you around pouting and acting cute for your forgiveness. You of course, give in. Something cute I think Jaeyoon would do is sit you down, your hands clasped in his and his forehead pressed against yours holding eye contact with you making you tell him all the good things that happened in your day. He’ll give you a little kiss for every good things you tell him.

“Come on y/n, you know I didn't mean it when I laughed at the toilet paper stuck to your shoe. I can't have your cute little butt slipping because of toilet paper. I know! I’ll impersonate Dawon when he accidentally ate nail polish for you.”

Dawon

Did someone order a koala? That’s basically what he becomes every time your time of the month comes around. He’ll act a bit clingier than usual (okay maybe a lot), but if you ask for space, he won’t falter in taking a step back and letting you breathe. The only reason Dawon goes into koala mode when you’re on your period is because he wants to be there in case you need/want something. Honestly, he’ll probably do something stupid like draw on your face while you were taking a nap. He will be whiny the rest of the day when you scold him. In his defense, he thought you could both laugh about it when you eventually did get up. He makes it better by letting you do something he normally doesn't let you do because he gets flustered and blushes a lot. He lets you cuddle him trace and touch his tattoos with a limited time offer of cuddles (it's not that limited). Of course you've seen his tattoos a hundred times before, but he’s usually asleep for it. In turn, he will trace lines across the slopes of your face mumbling how his day went against the crown of your head.

“What do you mean you have to go to the restroom? The restroom can fit two people. Ouch- okay I’ll get off of you just come back ASAP. I don't think I can take being too far away from you for too long”

Zuho

Juho will make sure you’re having the time of your life the whole time you're on your days. He invites you to his studio where you have crazy dance parties singing and rapping to one of his songs while you dance around with colorful wigs and other wacky accessories. He plays stupid games with you like paper rock scissors sticking out his tongue at you when you lose but still handing you his last Skittle. If you don't want to go out, that's perfectly fine for him too. He snuggles up to you on the couch while watching a scary movie spilling popcorn everywhere and screaming in an unbelievably high pitch. He’s just trying to make your period as not miserable as he can. He becomes even softer for you (if that’s even possible). He lets you play with his hair or put crazy makeup on him. Although he may look grumpy while in the process, he goofily laughs posing ridiculously when you tell him he looks pretty. He’s even letting you distract him in the studio tickling you when you grab his attention for too long.

“I never thought I'd look this good in long pink hair. You got the lyrics wrong but I'll let it pass since you’re cute.. and I love you”

Rowoon

Seokwoo usually teases you a lot, but he eases up on it when you’re on your period.He will bring you tea and pills when you’re having cramps watching worriedly as you curl up in pain. He runs his hands though your hair softening the crease between your eyebrows and shushing you softly when you whine out in pain. He will push you to eat saying the healthier your body is the better you will feel after your period ends. He contentedly smiles watching you fondly when you eat what he made. He will bring you outside and make you play something simple such as catch telling you he read on the internet that moving around will help ease up the pain in your lower abdomen. He is very patient with you when you get overly sensitive over something listening to you talk waving your arms around while internally thinking of how cute you look crying at Finding Nemo. He then eventually herds you to the bed telling you take a nap tucking you in and leaving a kiss against your forehead rubbing his nose against yours playfully before leaving to shower promising to join you later.

“Come on love, let's take a nap. I promise you’ll feel better when you wake up. See your beautiful self later babe, rest up”

Taeyang

Taeyang will also be one to tease his girlfriend, but he will change up his teasing. Instead of teasing you to annoy you, he'll do it more to bring up your mood and make you laugh. He pinches your cheek and calls you cute. Actually, you didn't advise him when you were on your period until you were sure the relationship was serious. When you first told him, Taeyang was a bit awkward, but he quickly shook it off smiling and nodding asking if you needed anything. Knowing how sensitive you can get during your time of the month, he’ll get a bit protective (not overbearing) of you. If a member teases you, he sends them a small sharp glare. He will make sure you don't watch that movie that makes you cry every time. He will make sure you spend your days while on your period as relaxed as you can. Taeyang would take you on walks with beautiful flowers and plants along the path smiling as you take everything in beaming in delight. He will stay at home with you playing his guitar while conversing about random topics with you.

“This isn't the first time you've seen those flowers jagi, yet you still stop to look at them every time. You're too adorable for your own good sometimes angel”

Hwiyoung

Hwiyoung will be the member who will be the shyest when you first tell him you're on your period. He’ll probably also freak out the most when you start curling in on yourself because of some painful cramps. He probably runs around the house looking for something that can help you until you eventually tell him what kind of pills to get you and to heat up a water bottle. There’s nothing to worry about, he will definitely be more prepared for next time. He will constantly ask you if he can do anything for you, and he gets a hang of what helps you out the most. Hwiyoung spends a lot of time with you goofing off and playing around. He draws with you purposefully giving you a big nose while drawing you and cackling when you lightly throw a pencil in his direction. Something you guys would probably do is intentionally get movies many say are bad and laugh while watching them. When you fall asleep on his shoulder tired of the day’s activities, he will fondly gummy smile at you before gently shaking awake to go to bed.

“What do you mean your uterus is murdering you? Is that normal? Oh- please don't cry. Tell me what I can do to take the pain away love”

Chani

Early in the relationship, when you first tell him about your period, he will observe you quietly. He just wants to see how he can help you out, so he doesn't do anything wrong when he’s trying to take care of you while you’re on your days of the month. After getting a good look at what he can do to help you out, he will be more active around you when you’re on your period. He will take many naps with you softly singing you to sleep and resting your head in the crook of his arm lightly running his hands up and down your arm. He will act cute only for you when he sees you’re having a hard time. He sits next to the bathtub when you’re in the bath he prepared for you, and he even massages your shoulder before throwing a towel at your face telling you to finish so you could go watch some movies. He’s playful with you chasing you around your apartment spinning you around when he catches you. He smiles warmly at you and chuckles lowly when you give him those puppy eyes asking if you can go to the corner store to get snacks. He just ruffles your hair agreeing a second later.

“So what if this is the fifth nap we’ve had this day. We both need our rest. Now go to sleep and dream of me”

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inhibited-irregularity · 3 years

Text

EUROVISION 2021, personal favorites:

- Russia 🇷🇺

Manizha, Russian Woman: Absolute favorite. The sheer originality of the song! Her energy and the level of absolute badassery! She can sing, she can rap,and she's a bomb of energy. The way reggae and brass and hiphop and Slavic melodies overlap and it somehow works, the transitions between fun and "I'm bitter about the sexism and I'm mocking it unapologetically and making a stand" and the anthemic, emphatic and powerful message to Russian women; I was swelling with emotion while watching her. While to an American or a Westerner it may seem like performative feminism, I'm gonna remind you that in Russia and other Slavic countries that's very much not a thing and actually a very unpopular stand to make, and in Russia, The Balkans, and Eastern Europe in general, hundreds of women face domestic and sexual abuse on the daily, and those who do come forward rarely get support and are mostly dismissed. Let's not forget that Manizha got a huge backlash from the Russian government officials, and a big part of it was for her Tajik roots. The honesty of her message is real, and she's speaking from personal experience and the experience of women around her - nothing performative about her song, and you can tell from her delivery that the fire within her is true and she leaves her heart on the stage and pours it into the song. The staging and costumes are great as well, and symbolically well thougt-through. I would really like her to win, or at least get to the top 5. Most of all, I hope her message is heard and felt. 10000/10

- Italy 🇮🇹

Måneskin, Zitti e Buoni: definitely the closest thing to my actual music taste this year, so liking them off the bat wasn't a surprise. However, they're not just your regular Franz-Ferdinand-ish young alt rock band that wants to do rock "properly" - they have IT. The X factor, the Je ne sais quoi. I've been exposed to that particular genre, and I can confidently say that the song still manages to be refreshing and original (that bridge, those riffs!) The band has a great energy and no matter how much Damiano steals the show, they are still a unit and nobody is left in the shadows. They have the spirit of great rock bands of the previous century, and yet they don't try to copy anyone (khm,Greta Van Fleet, khm). Damiano's vocals are both powerful, seductive and provoking, and I'm still admiring the sheer amount of emotion he can pack into a single line and the nuance and yet rawness behind it. I'm not gonna state the obvious lol (the obvious being yes, I'm thirsty as well, he becomes yet another unattainable rockstar for me too,and yes they all look great) Anyway, great song, and maybe the clearest and most serious candidate for the number one spot, taking both the jury and the public into consideration. 10/10

- Iceland 🇮🇸

Daði Freyr and Gagnamagnið, 10 years:

What can I say about this masterpiece that hasn't already been said? A clear fan-favorite (hi, Valentina), but with the guns to back it up. The song is contagious, fun and campy, and unlike some other songs with said qualities, actually good from a musical perspective. Daði is incredibly charismatic and his sense of humor shines through, and even though he's the star of the show, the same can be said about the other band members. The synergy Måneskin has can be applied to Gagnamagnið as well, even though the energy is entirely different. They're serving us fun, sunshine, kitties rainbows sugar spice and everything nice, and manage to do it with zero cringe factor (plus those funky keytars). I'm one of those Eurovision fans that lament the golden age's (2004-2009) campiness (We'll never forget you, Verka), and Daði managed to bring it back, but modernised, polished and still sincere. I personally preferred the epic dad joke that slightly more commercial Think About Thing was (but that's one tough act to follow), but I'm always down for a husband adoring his wife and singing praises to their relationship. Since we're on tumblr, I feel obliged to use the term "cinnamon rolls" in describing Daði and the band. 9.5/10

- France 🇫🇷

Barbara Pravi, Voilà: She brought the theatrics, she brought the drama, and she brought the 101 in "that's how you perform". Her personality leaps through, and her voice is both beautiful and full of emotion and power. I'd hire her to star in a serious and artistic movie. Despite the fact that Voilà is from its melody to the singing style to the video to the vibe and the aesthetic hands down the most French thing I've seen since Amélie (do not come for that movie), it miraculously doesn't come across as a cliché, but rather an homage, and an individualistic one at that. It's not entirely my cup of tea, since I'm usually biased to songs that may come off as snobbish (I mean, the jury is going to lap it up), and are all about being proper and technical and oh how ~artistic~, but Barbara puts the soul into the immaculate. I'm not giving her the highest mark because I'm yet to see the performance, but I'm rooting for her. If she delivers the performance, we might have a clear winner. 9/10

- Ukraine 🇺🇦

Go_A, Shum: I'm a sucker for all things ethnic and mytological, so this was a no-brainer. I want that song played at every party. I want to go to the forest in the video and chant and summon the spring with flute and hard-bass. Kateryna Pavlenko has some unexplainable power over me, and her eyes are simply hypnotizing. The vocals are great, proper Slavic ethno right there (seriously, check out Slavic folklore and traditional music), and she has a subtle punk quality too(?). Ukraine came to save the spring and make us forget about the pandemic, and minus the Maruv fiasco (justice for her!), they always deliver and I expected nothing less. On the other hand, I loved the original version much more and couldn't help but be a bit disappointed with the revamp (yes, I know they had to), and while I personally love Shum, I think some other acts are more deserving of the higher placement. Go_A are not my winner, but definitely soon to be in my playlist. 8/10

- San Marino 🇸🇲

Adrenalina, Senhit ft. Flo Rida: You know that golden age of Eurovision I mentioned? THIS. I'm Serbian, so I can't resist a banger reminiscent of our horrible turbo-folk elements (and I say that endearingly,takes me back to 18th birthday parties (boy I'm glad that's over)). Let's just crown Senhit this year's Queen of Camp. The wild factor of Flo Rida...just?? Amazing. Can't wait to see how the performance goes (EDIT- it went great, I had a grin on my face the entire time and couldn't help but dance along). A certain refreshment after Serhat and Valentina Monetta endless loop. They didn't dial down the weird, but made it catchy af, and the vocal can rival any Balkan folk diva. While I think it's definitely the most entertaining entry this year, it's far from being the most original, and it's not really my genre of preference. Will vote for Senhit and root for her to qualify. 7.5/ 10

- Sweden 🇸🇪

Tusse, A million voices: As I mentioned before, I'm the first person that starts complaining about Sweden Superiority as soon as Eurovision season begins, and I'm with you all with being tired of Sweden qualifying just because they're Sweden and usually just bringing the same brand of MTV/Calvin Harris/American pop, or a successful and not-so-subtle imitation of the performances that did well the previous year,but listen: A million voices is a solid pop song and I'm going to die on that hill. It actually embodies the essence of pop - a catchy, pleasant melody sung by a good vocalist, with a short,sweet and uplifting message. It's not the same as previous years, it's not commercial, just good pop - good pop being something you immediately like and vibe to no matter how many common elements of the genre it checks. It relies on RnB rather than electronic sounds, auto tune or various DJ effects. Tusse is charming and charismatic af, and he's a 19yo kid doing an amazing job on a global stage. You don't have to like it, but there's no need to hate on it (ask Jendrik). Imo, Tusse deserved to qualify. Not winner material yet, but I wish him a fun time and a successful career. 7 5/10

- Switzerland 🇨🇭

G'jons Tears, Tout L'Univers: I saw the video first, and I HATED IT. It came across as a Duncan Lawrence-high-art wannabe, something technically perfect, but empty of soul or meaning, another soft boy with a sad falsetto, another jury-points bait. BUT. I changed my mind entirely after seeing him perform. Hands down, it was touching and epic. Reminding me of Hamlet aside, he DELIVERED, and made me love him, and actually enjoy the song. I still think the song is less original than Tusse's voices, but I enjoy the troubadour vibes of the pre-chours. G'jon is absolutely adorable, and I'm not gonna be mad if he wins. 8/10

shout-outs&honorable mentions:

- Serbia 🇷🇸 Yes, some national bias, but I'm proud of our girls. Ever Since we placed 2nd with Željko's Lane, we had that goddamn flute e v e r y year, and the same outdated scenography with a side of extra pathos (I'm sure that ruined Sanja's chances and her otherwise great performance back in 2016.) Finally something fun and actually representative of the music popular here. They looked flawless and the energy was off the charts. Go, Hurricane!

-Finland 🇫🇮 Yes, cheesy and corny and I cut my finger accidentally from watching the video on all the edge, but I'm biased because they're bringing emo and nu-metal back, and that's the music of my early adolescence (hello, Kaulitz brothers and Andy Biersack,hello Gerard Way and Linkin Park) Call me grandma lol

- Malta 🇲🇹 DESTINY CAN SIIIIIIIIING! I wasn't impressed with the song initially, but the performance blew my mind.

- Ireland 🇮🇪 A for effort, and so nice of her to try and give us something unique! While it wasn't good enough to qualify, it was super fun and she seems so nice. Also, we all know that she was out of breath an can sing much better than that. Still wasn't bad.

- Romania 🇷🇴, for being so young and brave enough to put on a show. The nerves got the better of her, but the song itself is good and no doubt she'll do well in the future

- Lithuania 🇱🇹, thanks for the memeries

- Croatia 🇭🇷, Not my cup of tea, but Albina gave a great performance

-Norway 🇳🇴, for embodying the spirit of Eurovision

- North Macedonia 🇲🇰, for the disco chest

- The UK 🇬🇧, for putting some effort

(Might edit later)

#eurovison #eurovision 2021 #rotterdam #the netherlands #russia #malta #italy #france #iceland #sweden #serbia #esc 2021 #switzerland #san marino #ukraine

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years

Text

Castiel: Buffet

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Castiel X Friend!Reader, Mention of Dean and Sam

Pov:Castiel

Warnings: Light cursing, Adorable Castiel

Summary: “Let’s go get some food Cass” “How does this work, Y/n?” “That’s a lot of food Cass!” “Yeah, but not as much as Dean has”

Word Count: 1,032

This year for Christmas miss Y/n had decided that we were going out to eat. She has joined the bunch after a case had gone with Donna and her. We all agreed that she was more than welcome at the bunker.

So like I said this year we are going out to eat, but the fact that I feel as if she forgot to mention to me was that we were going to a sort of free for all of the food. We all pile into Dean’s car.

The conversation was light and instead of rock playing in the background, there was Christmas music instead. Something that was new to me, but to be around my family and enjoy this was amazing in a way of its own.

Dean of course drove, and Sam sat what he called “Shotgun”. Y/n sat behind Dean and me behind Sam. “This feels very much like a family trip,” I stated. Y/n looked over at me and smiled, Dean eyed me from the rear-view mirror and Sam responded to my comment. “Cass, that’s kinda the point, but look at Y/n she’s the one that planned it.

“This was your idea?” I asked. Again she just looked at me and smiled and sang along with the song that had turned on. She got up turning the radio volume up singing-along with the “Joy to the world”

“while fields and floods.

Rocks, hills, and plains

Repeat the sounding joy

Repeat, repeat the sounding joy” She sang along it was a song that was oddly connected towards faith. “Are you done back their Elsa?” Dean asked his eyebrows raised. “First when did you watch Frozen? And second yes, Yes I’m done singing... For now” the last part she said in a whisper to me. I chuckled and we continued on our way.

We had arrived at the restaurant and it was crowded. But it was sweet, the cold air bringing a pink ting to everyone's faces. When we sat down, I guess I had a very peculiar look on my face.

Dean and Sam split from the table being savages at the line of food. “Let’s go get some food, Cass,” Y/n said getting up from the table and dragging me along with her. She went to grab a plate and must have noticed that I wasn’t following behind her.

The notion of getting my own food and becoming a glutton, that was an odd one. Y/n came back over to me and grabbed another plate, handing it to me. “Cass, do you need some help?” I raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment “I guess, How does this work, Y/n?”

She rolled her eye pulling my arm again, for some reason I felt like a little child. Something that was rare for an angel to feel little. Y/n explained the whole process to me.

“So look here, Cass.” She said grabbing my jaw and facing her. “You can come up here as many times as you like, but remember you absolutely have to get a new plate like we just did.” I nodded my head letting her that I still understood, “And then you will go back to our table.” She said pointing towards Sam and Dean were now sitting. “You eat, talk with us, and if you’re still hungry you can come back and get more.” I smiled and went to move away. “I understand Y/n, Thank you,” I said walking towards any type of food that looks and sounded delectable.

I looked around seeing all the food, and by the time I had gotten back to the table, I had two plates all full of different types of food. “You really plan on eating all of that Cass?” Dean asked stuffing his face with what looked like a pastry or roll of some sort. “That’s a lot of food, Cass” Y/n said next. “But, I mean look at Cass plate compared to Dean.” “ Yeah, but not as much as Dean has,” I said.

Everyone chuckled, Y/n face was red from trying to be quiet. Sam just kept looking back at me and Dean. “I mean, I’m an angel I bet I could definitely beat Dean in a food contest,” I said looking at Dean. “Dean, don’t do anything rash,” Sam said. “You’ve got yourself a contest,” Dean said.

“Oh, you thought I was being real, Nah I know I would win,” I said polishing off my second plate. Placing myself on top of Y/ns and Sams. After which I got up and went to get another plate of food.

Once everyone was finished we all once again piled into Dean’s car and drove off back to the bunker. “Thank you for helping me Y/n.” I said, she smiled again “Just so you know that is called a buffet, honestly, I really enjoyed this night we all got together. It was rather nice to relax and be as normal as possible.” She giggled at the last part of her sentence.

The Christmas music was still playing this time though a song came on that rather caught Y/n’s attention.

“You’re a monster, Mr, Grinch

Your heart’s an empty hole

your brain full of spider

you’ve got garlic in your soul

Mr.Grinch

I wouldn’t touch you

with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole”

“Y/N, No more singing,” Dean said from the front of the driver seat.

“You’re a foul one, Mr.Grinch

You’re a nasty, wasty skunk

Your heart is full of unwashed socks

Your soul is full of gunk

Mr. Grinch”

“Y/n, keep going,” Sam said looking over at his brother and turning the radio up.

“The three words that best describe you

Are as follows and I quote,

Stink,

Stank,

Stunk.”

“This song is just meant for you, Dean. I still love you but you're the grinch out of our family. Come just get into the Christmas spirit and you won’t hear me sing anymore.” Y/n said. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled into the garage.

“Just so you know. I absolutely loved listening to you sing, Y/n. It also very funny to see Dean get infuriated over silly little things.” I said smiling.

#CASTIEL GIF #castiel #CASGIRL #castiel x reader #castiel novak #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #buffet #outing #familynight #chritsmas #Christmasdinner #christmasoutfordinner #Christmaswithfamily #castielFriendreader #fem reader #feminine #fem

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angelhummel · 4 years

Note

So I saw a post about the eras of the Glee fandom and I am in the Resurgence Era. I began watching the show back in May 2020. I know people like to make fun of the show a lot, and I totally understand, but I unironically enjoy this show. Well maybe not a majority of S4-S6, but I like the music, the comedy, the heartfelt moments, the zany characters. But I can also see how even in the early seasons, which people hail as Glee's Peak, how it could have been better. (1/?)

With the exception of a few song changes and polishing clunky dialogue, there isn't much I would change in S1 or S2 (although I would cut down on the cheating plotlines in S2). S3 should have been about the club finally being unified with almost no infighting, and they shouldn't have tried to cram so many PSAs into one season AND Santana's coming out story should have had more focus than it got (and it should have been handled more sensitively period) But the music in S3 still rocked.

In S4-S6 I can see almost exactly when people began dropping from the fandom and I understand why. S4 through S5 (especially S5) seemed to be flailing for some sense of direction with the characters and juggled too many nonsensical (and often tone deaf) storylines for it to be coherent. S6 saved it from ending disastrously, but by then it was too late to truly save the show. Not to mention Ryan Murphy's unprofessionalism leading to actor drama and just butchered story lines.

But I can see how the show could progressed coherently and satisfyingly. In S3-S4 the New Directions should have become the champions for the underdogs. In S4 with most of them graduating, they should have had the theme of branching out into the big world beyond their small, closeminded town in Ohio. S5 could have been them getting too big for their britches and then failing because of arrogance. Then S6, they go back to Lima as a humbling reminder of where they started.

In S6, with the allotted 22 episodes they should have had, they could have started up the Glee club again, and be reminded why they joined in the first place. It makes me sad that bad writing and Ryan Murphy's unprofessionalism tanked a show that had all the groundwork for being absolutely amazing. Glee is many things: wacky, musical, bizarre, heartfelt, frustrating, insensitive, sometimes all those things in the same episode, but when it was good, there was nothing else like it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I mean that last plot is basically what they tried to do but just with Rachel while everyone puttered around for ten episodes before they wrapped all the pointless crap up. I mean I was never a fan of them having to go back to Ohio in the final season just bc they’d already done it multiple times by then and it’s like can we please see something new?? All I wanted for the last two seasons was all my faves and a few guest stars in NY lmao. It’s still an ensemble show with like 7-10 characters and some good guest stars, right??

Also like I’ve sort of said this before lately but. S2 is a hot damn mess. If you didn’t have Kurt or Klaine and you didn’t have Santana or Brittana?? That season would be nothing lol. Maybe it’s just me but idk all the het nonsense that season really drags it down for me. And s3 is fucking awful but that’s what so many people cite as their favorite. Which to me it just proves that people talking about “it was really good at first then sharply declined when everyone graduated” is complete bullshit and it’s just people looking at the seasons they actually watched through rose colored glasses and just saying it got 100% when they stopped being interested in it.

And I swear I’m not trying to just shit on everything you’re saying lmao but again people saying s3 had the best music of all but like. I dunno I think DWS had the best music and was the best actual tribute ep. Michael also had really good performances. Then there’s maybe five other performances I’d put in the iconic tier lol. Idk I think it’s overrated all around and I just hate s3 so damn much (: But yes it does have some good music

But anyway your last paragraph. If I could rewrite Glee with 20/20 hindsight I would have the s4 and s6 newbies switch. So the new and interesting characters for s6 are introduced earlier and actually bring something new to the table. And then in s6 we get the wannabe copies of the oldies so that when all the alums are there, they pick out the person that reminds them most of their high school selves to mentor them. So like Thanksgiving but for like half the season or whatever lol. And it’s like sweet and nostalgic for them to sort of see themselves at the start of their friendship again and to give everyone the advice they wished they knew back in the day. Stuff like that. Could’ve been cute

And idk I don’t agree with everyone else saying s5 sucked lol. I mean obviously one of the contributing factors to the strangeness and sloppiness was one of their main characters dying and having to write around that. And poor Sam having to fill Finn’s crap shoes and become Finn 2.0 and I think you can see that best with the nurse Penny stuff. But idk I mean there’s twerking and puppets which are nonsensical and only one of those things comes off as tone deaf to me. I don’t think it’s as bad as people wanna say. But after the boringness of them coming back to Ohio for the glee club in the middle of the season?? And then my favorite characters are in NY after that?? Those are some of my absolute favorite episodes. I mean I’m in my top 40 glee ranking episodes and I’ve got 5 eps just from the back half of season five to go. I love it. It’s some of my favorite Glee

Although I still agree that s1 is the best. And that’s with the show focusing mainly on Mr. Schue, Finchel, and Quick. And I still adore it as much as I do. Season one really is something special. I mean just about every season is like watching a different show. And no one is going to agree on what they like best or why. But idk I’m just glad everyone in the fandom has something to hold onto.

#glee #asks #answered #long post #my thoughts #oh and rm letting cast drama fuel his writing choices #fuck him for that #i didnt need a pezberry feud just bc nr was sick of lm's bullshit #seasons-of-stories

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lupienne · 4 years

Text

The Reality - Negan and Lucille

Hey guys, here’s a little Halloween fic of Negan and Lucille. I started it like two years ago and never felt motivated to finish it. So I finally sat down today on Halloween and wrote the end of it, and while I’m not really happy with it... whatever. Here it is anyway! I think it’s kind of bittersweet, but that’s just me.

The Reality

Gourds were on porches, leaves on the ground, and the stores were filled with pumpkin-flavored everything. The crisp air was a slap to the lungs, in a good way.

I'd always loved Fall, and I'd always looked forward to Halloween. That night when reality wavered on the edge. When you could be dark or light, the opposite of yourself – when you could be anything for just a few hours.

I hadn't been a fan of the days passing by lately. Dread sat like a tumor in my stomach.

The reality was... that reality fucking sucked.

I watched my breath puff out white as I came home on Thursday. Maybe it wouldn't fucking rain this Halloween. We might get snow instead.

After dinner, I polished off a few apple cider donuts, then settled on the couch to watch TV with Lucille. She was quiet and sleepy-eyed as the clock ticked towards my bedtime. The holiday was days away, falling right splat on a Saturday.

“Tony said he found some fuckin' booze flavored like Candy Corn. I hope that's not all he's gonna have, because that's gross as fuck.” I yawned. “What do you think I should dress as? Fuck, I shouldn't have waited until the last minute.”

We always attended Tony Synder's party down the block. I wasn't really crazy about the guy, but I'm not gonna pass up free food or secretly laughing at the neighbor's costumes. (I always looked fucking amazing.) I liked to switch up my style, but Lucille usually dressed as a witch. And not some sloppy, warty green hag...but a hot fucking witch. Her slim figure in a black corset, her tits pushed up, her cascade of black curls falling over one eye. In years past, we'd come home from that party partly drunk and ripping each other's costumes off as we stumbled through the door. God damn. I was almost getting hard thinking of it.

Almost. The past few years, Lucille had me at arm's reach and I couldn't blame her. I was shit, I was an unfaithful piece of shit, but she-

That shit didn't matter anymore.

“He-Man,” she said with a chuckle. “I want to see you rocking that little leather harness.”

“Goddamn, that's right on the edge of indecent exposure. Isn't he practically naked?”

“Why do you think I suggested it?”

“I would make a hot blond.” I slid closer to her, and she nestled against my side. “You gonna be my Bewitching Beauty as always?”

She was quiet for so long I thought she'd fallen asleep.

“...think I'm gonna sit this one out.”

“But why?”

“I don't know. Just not up to it, I guess. But you go, have fun. Maybe you'll find a hot date.”

I swallowed hard. After everything....I couldn't laugh at those types of jokes.

“...Stop that shit. You're the only hot date I want. I don't wanna go alone. We don't have to stay long.”

“Look, Negan, they won't want me there.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Tony adores you, which is why I ain't his biggest fan, cause I know he's always wanted to stick his dick in you-”

She let out a laugh that was more of a scoff. “Doubt he feels that way now. Nobody wants a dying woman at their party, making things awkward.”

I felt like I'd been punched in the goddamn balls. My stomach went to my throat and I roiled with sudden nausea. Eyes burning with acid. I fought it, I fought it motherfuckin' hard . My jaw clenched like I was in rigor mortis, my body shuddering.

“Don't...don't say fucking shit like that.”

She nudged my ribs. “God, calm down, Negan. What about this, huh? I don't have any hair.”

“It's Hallo-fucking-ween. Everyone is wearing a motherfuckin' wig right now. You'll fit right in.”

She leaned her head on my arm. “I'm tired. I'll think about it. Ok?”

That meant no. But it wasn't official yet, so I was gonna stop at the party store and buy that fucking He-Man getup and the best witch wig I could find. She'd change her mind right quick once she saw me in that loincloth.

As she went to bed, I stared out the window at the orange light of our Jack-o-lantern. The nausea had settled back into my bones. A constant undercurrent, moving through my veins like poisoned blood.

Too many tricks, life. Not enough treats.

---

Friday night. I stopped at the party store. The cashier rung up my purchases, then looked me over with a twinkle in her eye. I refused to be flattered – ok, I was kind of fucking flattered. The wig for Lucille was the most expensive they had. If you squinted, it looked nearly like her natural spill of curls.

At home, I put my hand on the package, and felt a rush of fucking darkness come over me. I had to fucking sit there, like so many nights, fighting the thoughts that stung like needles. If I let them keep stinging, the tears would come – the fucking breakdown would follow.

So I fought it. I shut it down. I fucking locked it up, because Lucille doesn't like it when I fall apart – and why should she? I'm the man. I'm supposed to be her rock. She hates it when I cry. I hate it when I cry.

So I fucking smiled when I walked in the door. I smelled Chinese food. Lucille was already piling mine onto a plate – the sweet n' sour chicken I love. All she ordered was a tub of Wonton soup. I frowned, but said nothing. At least she's eating.

She looked at the bag in my hand, and she too, said nothing. “Dinner's ready. And I rented some Halloween movies.”

We ate and watched Child's Play and Micheal Myers and a leprechaun who makes bad jokes. I didn't mention the costume or the party, but I knew I'd be going alone. I spend the last movie wondering how I'll excuse my wife's absence, and how the fuck I'm gonna endure the pity in their eyes. It fucking pissed me off. That they're putting her in the ground already. That she's putting herself there.

“Honey,” she rubbed my tense arm. “You ok?”

“Yeah, babe. Just...indigestion.”

And damn this woman, she got up to make me a cup of peppermint tea. I sat there numb, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do without her.

----

“By the POWER OF GRAYSCALE, behold my glorious sword! ...and by sword, I mean dick.” I adjusted He-Man's fake-fur loincloth. Played with it, flipped it around. I wore some black boxers under it, but I was still worried about...slippage. I looked so fucking ridiculous.

I slid on the blond bob wig, examining the hot mess in the mirror. “Haha, oh yeah! What a fine motherfucker. Jesus H Christ. I am a glutton for punishment. Ok, babe. I'm decent! Come check me out before I head over there!”

“It's Grayskull, not Grayscale. Get it right, Negan.”

The bedroom door swung open and my mouth dropped. My Lucille stood there, the black wig cascading over her shoulders. Her body, slimmer than ever, hugged by a slinky black dress and purple corset. Glitter dusted her chest and cheeks.

“Goddamn, woman.”

“I couldn't miss out on that Candy Corn booze.”

I smiled, but we both knew she wouldn't be drinking that. She'd be spending the night over the toilet. I had to banish that thought fuckin' quick. She already spends too many nights over the toilet.

“I'll taste test it for you first. Let you know exactly how fucking disgusting it is.”

We headed down the block, passing early Trick-or-Treaters. The rain had come after all, but merely presented as a pathetic drizzle. The mist in the air diffused the street lamps into yellow balls of light. I wish I'd brought my coat to drape over Lucille's bare shoulders. Spooky music played from our elderly neighbor's house and he waved at us. Lucille waved back.

Tony's yard had become a graveyard of cardboard tombstones and dry ice. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucy shiver.

“Want me to go back and grab a coat?”

“Don't be dumb. We're almost there.”

On the porch, Tony's tween kid sat in a lawn chair with a bowl of candy. No costume, how quaintly rebellious. She looked bored as fuck until we rolled up, and then she snickered openly. Dear fucking God. I hoped my loincloth was in place. My nipples were like fucking pebbles on either side of the plastic harness. I quickly banged on the door.

Tony opened it. “Negan! And Lucille! Very nice, very nice. Love the costume, although I'd never call you a witch. Or anything rhyming with it.”

We did an obligatory laugh. The tween rolled her eyes.

“You look cold, Negan. Better step inside. I got the lager ready to go.” Tony had the same damn smirk as his kid.

“Why did you pick this costume for me again?” I muttered. We passed through the entryway strung with a beaded curtain of bats and spiders. The living room was bathed in red light and Monster Mash blasted from the stereo. Tony's wife always went all-out with this shit. A skeleton sat in the armchair and fake cobwebs were every-fucking-where. I hoped the dry ice didn't affect Lucy's breathing.

Wifey Tanya came over, hugging Lucille and complimenting our costumes. I glanced down, wondering how they saw her. Did they know the shadowed eyes and gaunt cheeks weren't make-up? Did they notice the weight she'd lost?

I still saw beauty. The cut flower, vibrant and blooming –just don't think of the future, the withering-

Freeze that shit in time. I closed my ears to nothing but the soundtrack of screams and creaking doors, back-lit with the wailing of ghosts. Party guest voices blabbered over it all. We melted into the past. It was another party like the parties of years before. Slightly pathetic in that 'thirty-something's hanging out' kind of way. Laughing too loud. Secretly sizing each other up.

At least the lime green jello shots were good.

So yeah, it was just another lame party, and because of that, it wasn't. Because for a while...we were normal. Lucille laughed. I saw her smiling. Within her costume, she wasn't the Sick One. She was the mischievous witch, mingling with devils and cowboys and kitty cats.

Mrs Tillerman from school was there. She drank too much of that nasty Candy Corn atrocity. I caught her checking me out and I felt – for maybe the first time ever – ashamed. Other women looked at me too, making slightly-tipsy comments in my direction. I was glad Lucille was across the room, no doubt bored out of her mind listening to Ms Crouch talk about her fucking kids. And by kids, I mean her cats.

“Mmm, hello, He-Man. Nice sword. Remember that time after school?” Mrs Tillerman, winking and nudging.

“Sorry, He-Man has no fucking recollection of that.”

She'd sucked my dick once. Just once. That was really enough for me. I think I'd only allowed it because I could. Now, I saw what a fucking piece of trash I was. Hopefully, when she sobered up, she would too.

“You don't?” She took another swig from her solo cup and let out a burp. I quickly turned her in the direction of the bathroom. Just in time, because Lucille was drifting my way.

“Motherfuckin' crowd is getting drunk. There's probably going to be barf in the apple-bobbin' water. As if bobbing for apples isn't fucking gross enough.” I had to yell as The Addam's Family theme blasted from the speakers.

“Yeah.” She looked pale under the glitter.

“You had enough?”

I knew she had. We'd done it, we'd made our appearance, we'd given proof of life. I squeezed her hand, then found our host. I was tired, had papers to grade, been a great party...you know the bullshit, Tony.

We walked home silently. I wanted to ask how she was feeling. It was a lump in my throat. She'd probably just be annoyed. Say I was worrying too much. Say she was fine.

The warm glow of our porch washed over us. It sparkled the glitter on her cheeks, flushed pink from the cold. I wanted badly to kiss her. Instead, I fumbled in my He-Man boot for the house key.

Kids screamed and laughed on the street, swinging their bags of candy. It was just another Halloween in a long line of them, stretching out into our future. Maybe ten years from now, our kid would join the others.

Tomorrow, I wouldn't think like this. But tonight – fucking dammit, I was going to pretend we had years ahead of us.

I got the door open, got us in, shut it against the chill.

“Fuck. Don't know if that was worth going to. You have fun?”

The orange glow filtered in through the glass panel of our front door. Moonlight through the windows, silvering the interior. Everything was dark, but sharply edged with white. Lucille turned to face me. She discarded her witch's hat, the wig – no...her hair, looking real and soft and luscious, spilling onto her shoulders. She slowly drew one hand up my naked stomach and my skin shivered under the touch.

“He-Man,” she rasped. “I've put you under my spell.”

“Lucille...?”

“It's Lucianna. Maiden of the Night. And I've cast my spell upon you.”

I imagined she'd gotten that crap from those dumb novels she liked to read. The ones with guys who wished they were as hot as me on the cover. “Oh yeah? What spell is that?”

Her hand drifted under my loincloth. I let out a breath. Shit. I hadn't felt her touch me there for weeks.

“The spell of Lust. I'm irresistible to you.”

She didn't need a spell for that.

She rose to her tiptoes, her cold arms against my chest. “...Negan. Make love to me. “

“...but...Lucille...”

It's too strenuous for you. You'll be tired. I'm afraid I'll hurt you -

She didn't look tired. Her eyes were dark and wide, her skin sparkling. The chilled hands sliding under the plastic harness were strong and sure. Her lips hungrily pressed to my chin. “...Don't resist me, He-Man. Give me this night – a Halloween like we used to have.”

I fucking melted like the half-frozen rain under the burning Halloween moon. What could I do?

“By the power of Grayscale, I pull forth my sword, Lucianna!”

“That's Grayskull, He-man!” She laughed as I backed her to the couch, my hands fumbling at her corset. “Ooh, that's such a big sword you have. You sure you can lift that thing up?”

“Witch, I'm gonna impale you so fuckin' deep with my hard steel. You just fuckin' wait.”

“Oh, I'm waiting, but you still have your clothes on.”

Heh. Good thing He-Man was half-fucking-naked already. The witch was helpless to my brute strength as I lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.

To be honest, there wasn't anything rough or hard about it. Even on devil's night, I had to maintain some sense of restraint. My hands gently stroked ribs under frail skin, planted kisses onto delicate shoulders and licked along a ridge of collarbone. Lucianna, my withering flower, her beauty stretched across bones.

Her hands, digging hard into my shoulders, her legs, wrapping me like squeezing pythons – well, they felt anything but weak.

After, we lay breathing and nestled together. The light outside came and went, broken up by drifting clouds. Lucille's sharpened features were softened. Her wig was still on and still looked real as fuck – money well spent. Her eyes, half-lidded, were tired, but tired in a good fucking way.

“Not a bad fucking Halloween, huh, Lucy?”

“Pretty damn good fucking Halloween,” she whispered.

She closed her eyes, and I watched her, drowsing there in the dark. Her spell was slowly melting away; her magic could only veil the truth so long.

But for a few hours, reality shifted and wavered on the edge. She was alive, she was here, and we would spend our nights beside each other, just like this.

For just the brief span of our last Halloween night, I could have it. It was my reality.

And the reality was... that reality was fucking great.

#negan #comic negan #lucille #fanfic #fic #lup's writing #thanks for reading :)

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absconditum-imaginaerum · 4 years

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Desert Twilight | Juyeon

Juyeon | Desert Twilight Words | 3,539 Notes | Camping!AU; Big fluffy desert stargazing. That’s it. It’s a standalone fic, but makes references to Ablaze, my first Juyeon camping fic! They do go together, but don’t need to be read together. Enjoy!

When he called you and asked you to get just a small bag of clothes and essentials ready, a smile broke onto your face while you gripped the phone a little tighter, holding it closer to your ear as you listened to his sweet voice through the phone. Whenever he called you with something impromptu like this, you knew he had been thinking for a while, and it was bound to be one of the best times of your life.

It was about three in the afternoon, he said that there would be some driving to do and a plan to spend the night so to bring your favorite fluffy blanket. You quickly threw a bag together with just a few things he asked you to bring including clothes, toiletries, and a refillable water bottle. He mentioned he’d be by to pick you up pretty quickly, so you anticipated the knock at your door.

You pulled it open with a smile on your face that seeped up into your eyes, a glittery gaze you looked at him with as he stood in front of you with a smile of his own. He eyed the fluffy blanket in your arms before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips, a greeting in and of itself.

“Ready?” he asked you.

An eager nod was your reply. He backed up slowly, coaxing you out of the house but patiently waited for you to lock the door behind yourself and he helped you with your bag and blanket. You eyed the 90s pickup he was leading you towards, a baby blue colored Chevy that had obviously had some refurbishing work done, but you were smitten nonetheless. Ideas flew through your head about what this impromptu getaway would entail; you caught him looking at you when you smiled over at him.

“Where are we going?” you asked him.

“You know I won’t tell you exactly,” he replied, reaching for your hand to lace your fingers just long enough to kiss the back of your hand before tugging open the back door of the crew-cab vehicle to toss your bag in the back seat before opening the passenger’s side door for you, helping you into the lifted vehicle. “But I know it’s been something on your bucket list for a while.”

Just the thought made you giddy. The squeak and subsequent slam of the door didn’t even jar you before you watched him cross in front of the truck. The inside was nicely detailed with beige leathering, dash chrome polished and shiny. You wanted to ask him what strings he had to pull to find it, but it seemed less important when he got into the truck next to you.

“It’s a drive, so if you fall asleep, I won’t be offended,” he told you with that look in his eyes that made your knees weak, a small smile on his face that you begged to kiss off his lips. He seemed to be able to tell, because he didn’t wait for you to find the right words to reply—instead, he leaned in, teasing your chin with his soft fingers just enough to tilt your jaw up to mesh his lips with yours, a little more lingering this time.

He must have known you pretty well, because it wasn’t long after he got on the highway out of the city that you were getting heavy-eyed. You were always the same on road-trips. Something about driving made you sleepy. It never stopped the way he’d occasionally look over at you, a shy grin on his lips that he occasionally entertained with his teeth while his hand smoothed over your knee. The aviators that sat loosely against his nose and the way the blasting air conditioner swept his hair back made him look like a regular in a desert west movie.

The sun against your face and the skin of your arms was as warm as the late spring in the desert and it lit up your smile like a hundred diamonds as he looked back towards the road, removing his hand from your knee to reach behind the seat you were sitting in.

“Do you know how hot you look driving an older pickup the way you do, all swaggered out?” you asked him, eliciting a laugh that lit your heart on fire.

“Please,” he laughed, “Do you always have to say things like that when I can’t even lean over to kiss you?” he teased back, looking back over at you for a second over the frame of those glasses, giving you a look that had your heart almost skipping a beat.

“Only if it frustrates you a little bit,” you teased back, taking his hand from behind the headrest of your seat to kiss against the back of his hand, watching the way his teeth captured his bottom lip again. “Sometimes I like to rile my man a tad when he can’t do anything about it,” you uttered just loud enough for him to hear as you turned your attention out the window—it was obvious now that you were intending to leave civilization.

The exaggerated purr he gave you in response sent a shiver through your spine as you resettled his large and warm hand against your bare thigh, causing you to teeth at your own bottom lip as you tried to keep your gaze out the window. Despite Juyeon’s warm touch and your easy conversations, you still fell unconscious against the door, but not without lacing your fingers over the top of Juyeon’s hand against your leg.

As much as he wanted to talk with you, or just sit silently with you, he adored the sight of your sleeping just a tad more—any instance in which you were completely serene lit his heart ablaze. The destination was coming up fast, and the moment you hit unpaved road, you were jolting awake. You stirred a bit, trying to configure what was going on before realizing you were on a dirt road. Then it all hit you—he brought you out to the middle of the desert and suddenly you knew what bucket list item he was talking about. The giddy grin returned to your face, too excited to form a coherent sentence—you had dreamed of disappearing deep into the desert even if just for one night for a bonfire and some stargazing, totally uninterrupted by city lights, in the warm and dry air, surrounded by creatures different from grassy hilltops amongst wildflowers and rock formations, fine sand under your feet.

The truck’s suspension made almost no noise against the uneven terrain, despite your jostling bodies. You watched the landscape pass, the wildflowers you’d dreamed of, colored rocks reflecting in the setting sun, the beauties that came with a high desert climate.

Another few turns onto other roads, but more paths less traveled until the car stopped, thrown into park and Juyeon was turning to look at you with orange sunset hues against his russet tinged skin.

“Is this my desert stargazing date?” you asked him, although it was more rhetorical. The look on your face put tingles in his stomach.

“It gets so much better,” he told you, barely a whisper before he pulled the keys from the ignition and hopped out of the truck, opening the back door to pull some things out before you even had a chance to collect yourself. When you finally got out, you noticed a circle of rocks in a dugout pit that you were sure he would have hit and you were surprised you didn’t see him drive over it; perhaps you were paying too close attention to him.

“Babe, will you help me with this box?” he called from the other side of the truck. You hurried around, helping him lug a box of wood from the back of the truck—a true desert fire-pit was in your future and the way your eyes glittered, Juyeon could see, as you helped him with the box was more than he could ever imagine. He handed the box over to you while he reached deeper into the truck to pull out a small cooler to follow you around the bed to the fire-pit, next to which you set the box of chopped wood and other fire supplies.

Juyeon set the cooler down by that box and touched against your waist, just enough to put your eyes on his while his hand slipped away as he approached the tailgate of the truck, pulling it down to reveal the plush mattress that fit perfectly in the bed, covered with pillows and blankets strapped down with a bug net you weren’t quite sure how he was going to finesse up, but you were sure it was already planned. You could see small fairy lights lining the perimeter of the bed and your heart all but melted in your chest.

He looked over his handy work, pleased already with the way things were turning out, but he could feel your eyes in his back, nothing but looks of complete adoration as you looked at, you swore, the love of your life. He tugged open a small door towards the tail of the truck, a few plugs on the inside that he plugged the lights into, twinkling as the desert sky around you started settling into dusk before he looked over his shoulder.

Enamored; that was the only word you could use to describe the way you looked at him. You could feel the knot in your throat, but you didn’t mind it one bit when he finally captured your gaze, turning fully towards you and took one step to grab your hips and turn you to lift you onto the tailgate.

“Did you plan all this all by yourself?” you asked him; it really was too good to be true.

He took a moment to reply, reveling your warm hands cupping his cheeks and carding through his hair, eyes fluttering a little bit as he mustered a small nod. “For you, my love,” he told you, “consider it an early anniversary gift. We’ll have a fire and roast s’mores and watch the stars and fall asleep under the charming desert sky littered with all beautiful hues of oranges, pinks, and purples—”

Your warm lips slanted against his as you leaned over, silencing him for just a moment so you could wrap your head around it. Gentle fingertips against the curve of his jaw had him shuffling more squarely between your legs, tugging at your hips with broad hands as a sigh exhaled from his nose, that turned a little more vocal when you pulled back too early for his liking. Your hands caressed down his cheeks, tugging against his lip with your thumb as you smiled down at him, nipping at your own bottom lip as you watched him.

“I can’t tell what’s more charming, you or the desert sunset,” you teased him; you both knew it was he who charmed you the most.

“I think the desert’s got me beat,” he teased back, and tugged you off the back of the tailgate to swing you around, listening to your playful squeals and giggles that made it all worthwhile to him before finally setting your feet back in the sand. “Help me build this fire? Since you’re the best at it.”

You remembered all the times you went camping with him and the boys before you became official, and how good of a fire-maker you’d become over all those years and camping trips. You scoffed, but it didn’t hide your sly grin as you stepped around him towards the box and the circle of rocks.

“Watch and learn,” you teased. There was a bit of dry fibers in there that you placed in the center of the dug-out pit and tilted some kindling twigs against it. You pushed passed the lighter fluid in the box—all the wood was as dry as the desert and would light in a second—for the matchbox, striking once and lighting the dry fibers underneath which were quickly eaten up by the flame. Gently, you continued to lay small twigs, getting progressively bigger until the fire was strong enough to start crossing logs.

“Fire’s a lot easier to build out of dry logs rather than gathered driftwood,” you reminded him as you finally stood to your feet, brushing your hands off after moving the box away from the flame so the supplies and other flammables wouldn’t catch.

“I know, it’s just really sexy watching you make fire,” he told you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you against him so he could sway with you for a moment. You rolled your eyes at him, but your hands slid up against his chest nonetheless despite the look he was giving you.

The sun was going down, and the high desert tended to get a little chilly in the evening and nights. Juyeon had put out two camping chairs for you and kicked open the cooler for some food. You couldn’t help but lean your head against his shoulder, the evening going by so peacefully, the desert wildlife out in full force, chirping and howling as twilight began to set in. It reminded you of all the times you’d roasted marshmallows with Juyeon in the past, under scrutinizing and suspicious gazes. It had been a couple of years since you finally decided to break the news not only to each other, but to everyone else as well.

You were so caught up in your thoughts about that night that you hadn’t even realized the half-s’mores between Juyeon’s fingers extended to you. You startled a bit, and took it from him—he’d become a much better marshmallow roaster under your guidance and always made them perfect.

“You’re awfully far away for being right here next to me,” he whispered to you, reaching over to clean the chocolate up from the side of your mouth with his thumb.

“I was just thinking about how much better you’ve gotten about roasting marshmallows since two years ago,” you told him. Instantly the memories of that camp came back to his mind. He smiled at you, perhaps too gently, as the thoughts all came rushing back and he couldn’t help but lean down and refresh his memory of the first kiss you shared in the washing tide of the water against your feet. “And a better kisser,” you breathed against his mouth with a smile when you finally found it in you to push him back a bit before he was capturing your lips again, but you had one last thing to say. “And, you always give me the last marshmallow, now,” you reminded him.

Juyeon’s warm breath against your mouth welled butterflies in your stomach and a shiver up your spine as you held his jaw. His eyes sparkled like the universe condensed as he looked at you, and you could almost read what was going on in his mind.

“You better let me watch the stars, Juyeon, I swear I’ll fight,” you warned him, drawing out the purr that was begging to rip from his throat. He kissed you again, chastely, and finished up roasting marshmallows with you. You were left to put out the fire and clean packages and things up while he made final preparations, erecting some poles here and there while the truck bed squeaked underneath his movements. You stowed the cooler back in the cab of the car and tugged your big blanket from the seat on the other side, all but tossing it onto him before you climbed into the bed of the truck, tugging the tailgate closed.

The fairy lights flickered across your face as you looked up at your man; the sun had gone down deep against the horizon and the purple hues were fading to darker blues. So, when he finally got the bug net situated and looked down at you, his jaw almost dropped.

“You,” he started, finishing affixing the net to its proper hooks before plopping down on the mattress in front of you, “are perhaps the most ethereal being on this planet.”

“You’re really trying to out-charm the desert, aren’t you?” you teased, trying to stave the blush threatening your cheeks. He gave you a shy smile, finally looking away from you before taking handfuls of blankets to move them around, to properly spread them across the mattress over the two of you while you turned to fix the pillows—too many for two human beings—across the top against the cab. You couldn’t count how many blankets were across you, but they felt heavy, which you knew you would need with no heater out in the wilderness where there was little around to trap the heat—even the sand did a poor job most nights.

Juyeon slithered down on his back, deep under the blankets and helped you follow suit to tuck an arm under your head, laying you half against his left shoulder enough so that when he tilted his head, it leaned against yours. He killed the lantern light and the fairy lights to leave you in next to complete darkness, bringing the stars out like fireflies in a field.

He could barely make out the noise of complete awe that escaped from your lips, one that would have fallen from his, too, as you both looked up to the speckled sky, milky waves casting paths across the vast darkness—it was easily the greatest amount of stars visible to the human eye. With no lights for miles, constellations became even more vivid, stars could be picked out without squinting too hard or guessing and trying to follow other dim stars; no, these stars were bright, these stars were nothing short of absolutely breathtaking.

Neither of you were star experts, by any stretch of the imagination. Constellations were hit or miss depending on the day, but Juyeon prepared to wow you. He pointed up to the sky occasionally, explaining where the beginning of a certain constellation was until you were able to find it, tracing the constellation with a long finger pointed to the sky as he told you the name and any random facts he could remember about said constellation. It was the quietest and most serene you had ever heard his voice, and the fact that he learned them for you filled your heart to the brim.

You swore you could watch the stars for hours, especially huddled up next to his warm body, legs somewhat tangled under the blankets, fingers playing with each other when he finally stopped telling you things about them and occupied more of his time kissing against those fingers. The desert was less than quiet, but it was filled with soothing sounds of nature, of all kinds of bugs you’d never hear in the city, wildlife you’d never see in the city.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, interrupting your gaze to turn your head up as far as you could in an attempt to look at his face. “Thank you for planning this, for driving all the way out here, for making this absolutely the most perfect date I could ever ask for.”

“You’re going to make me soft if you don’t stop,” he told you, turning his mouth against your temple to place a couple of kisses against it. He didn’t hate when you got like this with him, in fact, it melted his heart more than he could explain, but it wasn’t something he could ever get used to.

“Maybe I like it when you’re soft,” you teased him.

“Aren’t you watching the stars?” he asked.

“Right now, baby, my attention’s all on you,” you whispered back, turning enough that you could barely snag a kiss against his jaw. You could feel his shoulder shift under your head, his arm rolling you into him a little tighter.

“I will tickle you until you cry,” he threatened.

“You only ever say that when I’m pushing buttons just right,” you replied with a grin and a soft laugh as you reached up with your right hand to touch soft fingers against his jaw.

“Maybe because you are,” he all but growled back, moving you ever so softly so he could pull his shoulder out from under your head, resettling it into the vast amount of pillows cushioning you from the cab of the truck before he was slithering between your legs, shoveling his arms under your shoulders to hover over you on his elbows. He could see you almost clearly in the light emanating from the millions of stars and the moon that seem to cast at the perfect angle.

He nuzzled his nose against yours softly and had your eyes fluttering, arching into him in a way that drove him crazy before his mouth slanted against yours for a few soft and short kisses.

“You know I love to monopolize your time and attention, even in the face of the stars.”

The desert was charming, but Juyeon had the upper hand.

#juyeon scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon oneshot #juyeon fluff #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz oneshot #tbz fluff #juyeon #lee juyeon #tbz #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #literally what's a girl gotta do to get her shit to show up in the tags #who knows

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