#even though he sometimes struggled with English with me he still always made an effort to welcome me with open arms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marie-swriting · 9 months

Text

Beautiful - Derek Morgan

Masterlist

Summary : you're struggling with the way your body look.

Warnings : body image issue (⚠️please do not read if it's a sensitive topic), implied eating disorder (⚠️please do not read if it's a sensitive topic), angst, hurt/comfort, whump, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3k

French version

Song inspiration : Body by Julia Michaels

In a dressing room, you look at your body’s reflection in a red dress. You look at yourself from every angle and you only see flaws. For you, this dress doesn’t flatter your shape even though Derek promised you it would. You don’t like the neckline, it doesn’t highlight your chest properly. You don’t like the way your belly is showing through the fabric. And finally, you don’t like the way your legs can be seen because of the dress’ shortness. You pull the dress down a bit, hoping it’d make it longer while a sentence from an ex is resonating inside your head. You keep examining every inch of your body in the mirror to the point you’re twisting yourself. You end up sighing, understanding your body is not made for this dress. You feel like your body isn’t made for a lot of clothes and it has the knack for making you suffer.

“You’re ready, sweet girl ?” Derek questions, outside of the changing room.

“Huh, yes.”

With apprehension, you open the curtain and Derek doesn’t say a word for a second, looking at you up and down. His silence makes you a bit more nervous and convinces you you should get out of this dress right now.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.” he compliments you with a smile.

“I don’t think so.” you shake your head, staring at your reflection again.

“You’re joking ? You’re stunning.”

“I don’t know. Look at my stomach !” you exclaim, showing your body part. “And my legs don’t look good in this dress either. Besides, I find it too short.”

“It’s barely mid-tight. And, it looks perfectly good on you.”

“I don’t know…”

As a way to reassure you, Derek puts his hands on your shoulders and kisses your forehead.

“I promise you you’re breathtaking in this dress.” he promises you and you force a smile. “You should take it and if you still think you don’t look good in it, you can always return it. Come on, I’ll buy it for you.” Derek announces, happy.

“Derek, you don’t have to-”

“Ha, ha,” he cuts you, moving his forefinger left to right, “I’ll buy it for you, it’ll be for our date at the restaurant next week. Besides, recently, we didn’t see each other a lot, I owe it to you.”

“You know you don’t have to make up for your job.” you affirm, taking his hand.

“Take it as a gift because I love you then. Want to try something else ?”

“No.” you state without wasting a second. “I’m going to change.”

You close the curtain and start undressing yourself without lingering on your reflection. Once you’re ready, you get out of the dressing room and see another woman a bit younger than you in the same dress. In spite of yourself, you think it looks better on her. The dress fits her curves perfectly and you think she is beautiful ; looking at her, you wish you could be like her.

After paying for the dress, you go back to your apartment. All the way home, you stayed silent, lost in your own thoughts made by the several remarks you’ve ever heard. Derek notices your mutism right away. He doesn’t question you, knowing you’ll dig your heels in. Despite the fact you’ve been together for a year, you still struggle to confide in him when you need it. It’s one of the things you’re working on. You’ve been making efforts since you met, but sometimes, you still isolate yourself.

When you’re at your place, you put your stuff down and inform Derek you want to get into more comfortable clothes. Derek lays down on your bed while you’re changing. In your bathroom, you look at your reflection while you’re in your underwear. When you feel your negative thoughts are becoming too strong, you turn your back from the mirror and keep changing. Even when you take your makeup off, you don’t look at yourself. The second you’re done, you lay down next to Derek. Instantly, he takes you in his arms before kissing the crown of your head.

“You’re feeling okay ?”

“Yes. I’m just a bit tired.” you lie, hearing his heartbeats.

“You’re sure ?”

“Promised.” you affirm, pecking his lips. “Can you sleep here tonight ? I’d like to stay in your arms.”

“Sure.”

Your proposal is all Derek needed to know you’re not okay. Derek might not be aware of the reason why yet but it's only a matter of time until he finds out. He knows you enough to recognise your tell when you're not doing fine without you uttering a word. Nevertheless, at this instant, he prefers to hold you close to him, wanting to give you the comfort you secretly need.

You thought in a few days you’d feel better. You often have those phases where you hate your body more than usual, this one is just more tenacious. You don’t feel good in any of your clothes, you feel ugly and you can’t enjoy anything you’re eating. Everything is awful and you just want to stay in bed and never get out of it.

Unfortunately for you, you have to go on a date with Derek. With the small amount of strength you have, you manage to get out of the bed.

After taking a shower, you open your closet. You go through your clothes without will. When you find the dress Derek bought you, you hesitate between wearing it or burning it. You know it’d make him happy to see you in it but you’re still not convinced. Reluctantly, you grab the hanger before putting the dress on, hoping this time, you’ll see what Derek saw.

You adjust the dress and you look at yourself in your bedroom mirror. You still have the same vision : only flaws. Keeping your eyes on your body, your eyes get teary while in your mind, sentences like : ‘you’re not pretty’, ‘you look like nothing’ and other awful words are echoing.

There are more and more tears in your eyes and you refuse to cry. You can’t have a breakdown tonight. You have to spend the evening with Derek. Your demons will have to wait for later. You take deep breaths and when you’re sure you’re not on the verge of crying anymore, you take your makeup. You hope making your face more beautiful will help you. Maybe it’ll remedy your outfit. Furthermore, when you doll yourself up, it sometimes helps you to feel better - even if it’s not a magical remedy. However, this time, your mood gets worse. The dark circles under your eyes are making fun of you while you try to cover them up and some pimples on your face don’t make the situation any better.

You try to hide things as best as you can while thinking, at least you can get rid of these imperfections for a few hours. When you’re more or less satisfied with the result, you go back to your mirror to check if you look a bit presentable.

Despite your makeup, you don’t think you look better. Your dress is still looking ridiculous on you and no matter how many accessories you try to add, you still think you’re not pretty. Annoyed, you end up removing the dress and go back to your closet. You’re in the same situation as the beginning. Looking at your dresses again, you realise your white one is missing. It’s a simple dress but you feel good in it. You have an idea where it might be so you go to your laundry, cursing at yourself. When you find your dress is, indeed, in your washing machine who is currently working, you sit down on the floor, muffling a scream. You don’t have a fallback solution anymore and it’s out of question to wear your new one. Feeling like you’re in an impasse, your tears come back in an instant. This time, you don’t have the strength to hold them back. They run down your cheeks freely, ruining your makeup on the same occasion. You cry for approximately ten minutes, you don’t even want to think about what you look like right now. Once you’re calmer, even if some tears keep flowing, you go back to your bedroom and take your phone.

Message from you to Derek, 6:58 P.M. :

I just got my periods, I don’t feel like going to the restaurant. Do you mind if we cancel ?

Message from Derek to you, 6:59 P.M. :

No problem. Do you need anything ? I can stay with you if you want.

Message from you to Derek, 7:01 P.M. :

No need. I have everything I need. Sorry for the last minute cancellation.

Message from Derek to you, 7:02 P.M. :

Don’t apologise, get some rest. I love you ❤️

You answer to his ‘I love you’ before setting your phone back on your nightstand. You quickly put on some sweatpants and your favourite sweatshirt then you leave your bedroom.

In your kitchen, you take several snacks and go to your living room, you start the first show Netflix recommended to you. You watch the episode without paying no mind to it while eating potato chips. Unsurprisingly, you feel yourself falling down even more in your downward spiral. You could be at a fancy restaurant with your boyfriend and you’re in your living room in a sweatshirt snacking.

Guilt is eating you alive when you think of Derek. You feel bad for lying to him, in particular when he pays that much attention to you but you don’t have the moral strength to leave your apartment.

You burst into sobs again, hating the phase you’re currently in. You can feel yourself drowning and instead of trying to get back to the surface, you let yourself go down in this feeling of emptiness.

Three weeks later, you’re still miserable and you still haven’t talked about it with Derek. A part of you wants to tell him everything you’re feeling and the other part wants to be able to get through it without his help. You can do it, you could do it before you met him. You can do it again. Therefore, when Derek comes back from a case, you do everything to hide your uneasiness. You know it’s a risky game, his profiler skills will see right through you in a heartbeat, yet you don’t want to burden him with your demons.

Of course, Derek knows what’s going on. He’s been on his toes since the moment he bought the dress and he doesn’t need to be a profiler to know you’re not fine. He knows you by heart. He’s just waiting for the perfect moment to bring up the subject, unfortunately with his job, this moment has been delayed several times.

However, that evening, he’s determined : he’s going to talk with you. He can’t keep staying silent when he knows you’re not coming to him. Before inviting you to open up to him, he wants to make sure you’re at ease by proposing a nice night out. He’s planned a movie then a take away at your place. He wants to finish the evening at yours, wanting you to be in a safe space.

When Derek arrives at your home, you’re putting your makeup on. He gives you a compliment which you don’t take seriously. He looks at you from your bed. He sees your hesitant gestures when you’re looking at yourself in the mirror. Besides, your silence gives him another clue. Normally, you two don’t stop talking, especially when you haven’t seen each other for more than a week because of a case.

You open your closet and start going through your stuff. When you still haven’t decided anything five minutes later, Derek stands and comes to you.

“Why don’t you wear the red dress ?” he asks, pointing at the cloth in question.

“Isn’t it a bit fancy for a movie ?”

“Not necessarily.”

“I was thinking of wearing the white one.” you tell him, taking it.

“Sweet girl, you’re beautiful in this dress but you wear it often. You have a lot of clothes that look good on you. You should change.”

You quickly weigh pros and cons, remembering all too well your last reaction when you wanted to wear your new dress. You end up forcing a smile and take it.

“You’re right. I’ll wear the red one.”

You’re about to change when Derek’s phone rings. He leaves your bedroom to take it in the entrance. Meanwhile, you take the dress out of the hanger and slip it on. You smooth the dress with your hands then, take a quick look in the mirror. Instantly, tears are back again in your eyes.

Contrary to last time, you hold them back. Derek is in the room next door, he can’t see you like this. However, you don’t have the time to calm down your emotions that Derek is already back in your room. Seeing you crying, Derek takes you in his arms right away. You sob for a few minutes whilst Derek strokes your back, hoping it’ll calm your cries. When he thinks you’re able to talk, he puts his hands on both sides of your face to look at you.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong ?”

“I…,” you stutter, shaking your head, “it’s stupid.”

“You know pretty well it’s not stupid if you’re in this state. Talk to me.” Derek repeats with a soft tone and you sigh.

“It’s just that I don't like my outfit. I told you, it’s stupid to cry for that.” you complain when he frowns. “I don’t feel good in this ugly dress. I look ugly in this dress.” you admit, averting his eyes.

“Why do you talk about yourself like that ?”

“I don’t know why. I just can’t feel good in this dress.” you repeat with a weaker voice. “I don’t understand how you can find me pretty in it.”

“It’s not just about the dress, isn’t it ?” he inquiries, knowing the answer.

“My relationship with my body has always been complicated, you know it, but lately, I’ve been feeling like shit.” you confess, your lips trembling, “I don’t feel good in my body, none of my clothes look good, I can hardly look at myself in the mirror and I feel ugly.”

As you talk, your breath becomes more jerky. Derek wipes the tears that have rolled down your cheeks. You didn’t even know you had started crying again. Derek is about to talk when you beat him to it :

“I know you’re gonna tell me the opposite, you’re gonna say all of these things are just in my mind but I can’t help it. I swear to you I want to look in the mirror and say it’s beautiful like you do but I don’t see what you see. I want to love my body like you love my body, I swear, I really want to love it, it just seems impossible. I can’t think of one single positive thing about me.” you mumble, your voice breaking. “Everytime I think I’m finally doing a bit better, I remember every word people have told me, whether it’s an ex, a friend or even my family and it’s back to square one.” you inform, trying to dry your tears, in vain. “And no matter how much you compliment me, I can’t believe you. I know you’re genuine but I can’t believe you. I just feel like every word you’re telling me is a lie to make me feel better. It’s not the truth and in one way, I know it but I can’t help it. I feel like I’m doomed to forever hate my body and…”, you keep saying, taking a deep breath, “it scares me. I don’t want to keep going like this. I don’t know what to do.”

Gestures being stronger than words, Derek holds you again. It’s not the first time you break down in front of him but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t break his heart hearing your angst. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, feeling ashamed to be this vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, we’re late for the movie because of me.” you articulate against his torso.

“We can always go another day. It’s okay.” Derek assures you, kissing your forehead.

“The fact is, it’s not the evening you had in mind. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise for feeling bad.”

“I know but it’s the second time we cancelled our plans because of me.”

“You’re talking about the restaurant ? You had your periods, it wasn’t your fault.”

Following Derek’s sentence, guilt finds its way with your other emotions. You break the embrace and set your gaze on your hands, fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

“I lied to you, actually. I had put on this dress to make you happy and I ended up in the exact same state. I preferred to cancel everything instead of talking to you. I’m sorry, I promised you I’d make an effort.” you say, raising your eyes to him. “I’m just so scared to be a burden to you. I don’t want you to grow weary of me because I’m not good mentally. I still don’t know how I got you and I don’t want to lose you for that. Besides, I want to handle it on my own… I mean, it works clearly so well !” you exclaim, rolling your eyes. “I’d understand if you wanted to leave me.”

“Hey, I’m not going to leave you when you need me.” Derek affirms, his hand on your cheek. “Look, I can’t imagine everything you’re feeling, but I will always be by your side, especially when you’re feeling bad. And if I have to repeat every second of every day you’re beautiful for you to believe me, I will. However, I think talking with a therapist could help you.”

“Probably.” you admit. “Would you come with me ? At least for the first session, I’ll need support.”

“Of course. I’ll come with you to as many sessions as you want.” Derek accepts with a comforting smile.

You know you still have a long way to go before loving yourself yet, you’ve already taken the first step.

For the first time in weeks, you let go of a sigh of relief. You peck Derek’s lips then you press yourself against his body again, his arms protecting you from your demons.

Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

#marie swriting in english #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #derek morgan one shot #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan #Derek Morgan angst #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan fic #Spotify

55 notes · View notes

iwritenarrativesandstuff · 8 months

Note

on a very random note (and hope you don't mind me talking about it ^^;), I do think Studio Bones is doing a great job at adapting Season 4 and I'm really enjoying it!

Though sometimes, I wish that they didn't omit some manga panels because it makes me a little sad that the weight of certain moments is taken away:

Exhibit A: Dazai laughing at Chuuya's impression

Exhibit B: Chuuya talking about Dazai leaving the mafia

Exhibit C: Dazai getting arrested

Exhibit D: Ango visiting Odasaku's grave

and the last one because this moment destroyed me when I read the manga and cause he's my personal favorite:

Exhibit E: Rampo facing Mushitarou on his own

genuinely, I'm really enjoying the adaptation right now and it's not that I don't appreciate the effort put into this <33

And it's true, these are minor manga panels so it wouldn't be too much to change or discard it and yet in taking away such minor panels, it also takes away the grand depth and complexity of what the characters are thinking and feeling in those moments.

It takes away the weight of the scene.

And that's the thing, bsd is a series that has so many complex characters with intricate dynamics, thoughts and moralities that it's a little bittersweet to know that the anime falls short sometimes when capturing certain moments and deprives us of the struggles, humanity and genuineness that these characters have and are going through.

again, nothing against Studio Bones but I often think of the things that could have been :<<

@langdahling

Hey you two! First off, I want to apologize for the huge delay. I was trying to think of what to say in response and I think I always make responding to asks way more work than they ought to be...

But anyways. Here are my general thoughts on the BSD anime, which I'm probably only going to elaborate on here once, and then drop it.

I enjoy the anime, really I do. But it's strange to think how drastic the difference is in the way the characters are interpreted between those who have only seen the anime and those who have also read the manga (and perhaps also the light novels).

First off, let's go over what the anime does well, since I want to ensure we're appreciating what is still a lot of effort from everyone in that studio. Animation, and all the things that need to happen to get a show off the ground, is not easy. Here are some things that stand out to me:

Those backgrounds: you know what I'm talking about. The stained glass, the sunsets, the city shots, the imagery. Beautiful, stunning work honestly.

Use of imagery and clever animation choices: there are some things that are going to change by necessity when adapting from page to screen. The clever animation teams will use this to their advantage - I don't think Bones always does this effectively, but when they do... oh man, is it ever good. I, for one, really liked the kind of projector effect over Dazai's farewell to Chuuya in s5.

Use of colour and light: go back through any scene and pay attention to who has what colours and the way the lighting is positioned. Again, these are those smart animation choices I was talking about.

The music: Score's really good. I wish the music was used a little more consistently (there's some weird choices made... why Wake Up Call for the Tachihara fight???) but the music itself is catchy and sets a good tone.

The voice acting: It's so good. See, even when I wasn't convinced about how the scenes were going to be framed, I never doubted the voice actors would carry it. (I'm talking about the Japanese actors here specifically, but the English dub is pretty good too... sorry I can't speak on any other dubs though...) I really love Kyouka's seiyuu (Morohoshi Sumire) and the way her voice takes on more inflection through the series as Kyouka comes into her own especially.

The abilities and the use of writing: Love the way the abilities are animated. And the use of text to emphasize character intros and key scenes was always good, but I legitimately freaked out when they used it for the Page's narration over Nikolai's speech in Season 4 - good! artistic! choices!

And we're lucky enough to have an adaptation that follows the major plot beats pretty much to the letter! ...so. Why does it tend to disappoint fans of the manga so often?

Well I know a lot of people have their opinions on it. owlyflufff I agree with you - the exclusion of certain panels make for very odd characterization choices - as in, it totally changes the context of the scene and what the character might be thinking. See Exhibits A through C for the best examples. For Exhibits D and E, I personally feel that we got enough in the scene to draw the same conclusions about motive and intent, but that Ango panel... oof it hurts so much. I'm ok with the Dark Era flashbacks personally though: same character motive, just with different artistic interpretation.

langdahling, you're also right though. Pivotal emotional moments aside, I feel a lot of shows (not just BSD) don't know how to let their characters breathe. Pacing is a huge issue in a lot of things I find. You have to let us know who these characters are. Let the characters breathe, and give us, the audience, time to breathe with the characters. It's important. It's really important. It's something the manga does well - it's endearing. Every character gets a little endearing, silly moment. This is necessary for a series that is fundamentally about humanizing its cast.

As for my own opinion on what the adaptation lacks... well, I have a bit of an interesting view because both my mom and I actually watch this show. I, as you all know, am a deranged little weirdo about it who has literally gone through everything BSD I could find and inserted it directly into my brain cells. My mom, on the other hand, has only seen the anime, but is privy to other information about the series um. Because I talk about it non-stop (sorry mom). I happened to be visiting her when season 4 started airing and we watched the first little bit together - the Untold Origins adaptation. To be clear - this adaptation was good. I think it was probably the best after Dark Era. But. My mom turns and looks at me at the scene where Ranpo breaks down shortly before Fukuzawa lies about him having an ability (because I've told her the rough summary of it before) and says "I don't think Ranpo's desperation came across". She said it felt like a breakdown, sure, but it's not the same as the pent-up frustration and fear that was made so incredibly clear in the novel. She said if I hadn't explained that Fukuzawa realized it was kind of his last chance to reach Ranpo, that he had to do something to save this kid, that she would've been left completely bewildered as to why Fukuzawa would tell him such a massive lie. (Never mind the exclusion of his parents, which was why nothing but a lie would work but I digress...) This happened later in the series too. Kunikida was given a prolonged fish-eye closeup through Jouno's entire speech about his ideals instead of the balloon symbolism used in the manga (literally one of the most baffling changes to me - I don't really feel any which way about the fish eyes in general, but imo doing any kind of prolonged like 20 second close up of one character's face during what is a pivotal moment for them is uh... a weird, if not outright poor, animation choice). Poor Akutagawa's death scene being... like that. He dies with grace! He DIES WITH GRACE! That's important!!! He made a choice and was satisfied!!! For all of the Bones and Asagiri Dazai favouritism, he's probably one of the worst examples of watered down emotion - it's no wonder so many people mischaracterize him. Why is he smiling when Jouno arrests him? Why does he look unbothered when he realizes Chuuya's been vampirized? Where is the scene after Q attacks where he conflictedly realizes he'll have to resort to underhanded tactics to win??? Thank god for Miyano Mamoru and his voice acting because otherwise. Geez. And then Sigma. Oh my god. You need that scene where he helps the casino guest. That's his first scene. They condensed his backstory. Sigma's entire character was watered down. And I knew it was going to be before I even watched Sky Casino arc, because this is the core problem I have with the anime in general -

There is a lack of desperation. And it comes, primarily, from the watering down of intense, pivotal moments, and then, the removal of some of the more lighthearted or kind scenes in favour of getting quickly to the action.

I feel that contrast is what's necessary to give these emotional beats weight. And often... it just doesn't hit. It's odd to me, as imo one of the core themes of BSD is desperation. Every character has this desperation at their core - a desperation to succeed, a desperation to live, not having a reason to live and being desperate to find it. It's all desperation - and this really, really does not come across well in the anime. Not consistently. I think the most egregious example is the Sky Casino arc. Both Sigma and Teruko are just as desperate as each other. Teruko stopping the plane was not a guarantee but a play on her part that could very well have resulted in her death. There's heavy implication the bones in her arms shattered in the manga. Her and Tachihara had to take a quick breather after it. That's not in the anime. Sigma's backstory being condensed does a great disservice to explaining why he is so desperate to save the casino - I felt we were primarily told rather than shown. And so the Sky Casino arc, with desperation at its core... was underwhelming. As I figured it would be before it even came out, as the anime already had a history of cutting details out, rushing through the build up, and making odd artistic choices that dampen the emotion of said pivotal scenes. It sucks, really.

And while it's fun to get two seasons in one year, I find myself very, very worried on behalf of the animators and the workers in that studio. I would've been happy to have two in one year... if I thought they were at all prepared for it. But I don't think they were. Season 5 feels very rushed and I know I'm not the only one who's said this. Makes me worried for the pressure everyone's under to churn this out so quickly.

In the end, I rationalize most adaptations of anything as having two (or multiple!) cakes. The BSD anime is enjoyable! And fun! I love seeing my little guys walk and talk and use their cool powers. It's a completely different experience to the manga. Unfortunately, for anyone who's read the manga, it's... a bit of an underwhelming experience, but still. It's a fun watch - even if it's not really what I was hoping for.

#thanks for the ask!#this is probably the only time i'll speak on my thoughts about the anime adaptation and my criticisms tbh.#i just don't want to spread too much negativity about it #but i also think people's grievances with it are completely fair and that these criticisms deserve to be known also #bsd #bsd anime criticism #storyrambles

49 notes · View notes

bts-weverse-trans · 3 years

Photo

201127 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - Jungkook

Jung Kook: “I hope this feeling never fades” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.27

I had a chance to interview BTS before, when they debuted. During that interview, Jung Kook had one small habit; when I met him again a while later, he had corrected it. He makes a conscious effort to change himself. And after seven years, I met Jung Kook again.

You directed the music video for “Life Goes On,” BE’s title song. Jung Kook: I was really eager to direct the music video from the outset. My plan was to organize the synopsis, discuss it with the music video director I was working with, shoot and edit them, but we were short on time. So I worked on it while sharing ideas with the director. Originally there were a lot of scenes with lip synching in them, but we took some of them out and put in more scenes that conveyed the members’ emotions better. It wasn’t easy to combine scenes, but I think now I know more about how much of everything is needed when shooting a music video.

You had shot the Golden Closet Films and uploaded them to the BTS YouTube channel, and now you shot a music video. Jung Kook: Once we were on location, we had directions for everything we needed to shoot prepared in advance, so I took candid shots of the members here and there with a camera during the shoot. We were filming in a beautiful place so when they asked me to take pictures of them as they wanted to be presented, I did.

What kind of pictures did you take of yourself? Jung Kook: I was just, in them. (laughs) I’m not in the shot for the Golden Closet Films either. I kind of take a back seat. The director had to shoot my parts for the music video, since I couldn’t film myself, so I relaxed a bit. I tried to make the other members look really good when I recorded them. Since this was a BTS music video and not my own, I wanted to show what was happening with every member and the team, not just one individual’s thoughts. Each person who watches the video might feel different, but I wanted to show that we feel what other people feel, that we’re in the same situation.

You get your picture taken a lot, but you don’t pay much attention to the ones you’re in. Jung Kook: I never really liked having my picture taken. (laughs) And I’m usually with the others when we’re working, obviously, but it’s hard to take a camera and take selfies. So I take pictures and videos of the other members every chance I get.

Do you still find it difficult to have your picture taken? Jung Kook: I put my best face forward when it’s for something I have to do, like for photo books, but it’s still not easy. Videos are okay, though. And even though I’m not nervous at all when I sing in front of tens of thousands of people, if I have to sing or talk in front of a small group, I get super nervous. I never feel that way on stage, but maybe I have a hard time doing things that are a little bit awkward for me.

It seems like you draw a distinction between work you enjoy and work you find difficult. Jung Kook: Work related to music, like recording, composing, writing lyrics, filming music videos and things like that, are all fine. But anything outside of that is probably a challenge for me.

On BE, you each explained your feelings about work in the song “Dis-ease.” You must have experienced a cycle of enjoyable and difficult work over seven years, so how did you get through the hard times? Jung Kook: I actually understand my own problems well, so most of the time it’s okay. I can figure things out one at a time through experience instead of just looking for answers. I’m always growing and my personality changes, depending on my environment. I think I’ve learned to do things I used to find difficult by experiencing it little by little.

Speaking of growth, “Skit” was very memorable. You recorded it the day after “Dynamite” reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and you, who talked about what you did before you became trainees in “Skit” in your debut album,talked about being first place on the Billboard Hot 100 this time around. Jung Kook: When I was a trainee, I saw the older members rapping and thought, “Wow, they’re so cool!” But now, after having spent everyday together, I’ve forgotten about all that. (laughs) Sometimes I see the lyrics they wrote, see them dancing and hearing the things they say on stage, and think, “Oh, right. That is the kind of person they are. They’re a lot different now.” You know how you don’t feel it when you live with your family, but if you can’t see them for a long time, you miss them. You might even cry. We’re a real family. Like, legit! (laughs)

Your “legit family” (laughs) each put their own songs on BE and came up with units spontaneously. What was it like making the album that way? Jung Kook: We talked with the company over the outline of the album and organized our ideas together. That was our process for making songs. Then we’d listen to them together, and if we thought they weren’t great, we’d go back and work on them some more. The members would get together and say, “Hey, how about so and so do a unit song this time?” or, “What should it be about?” and share a lot of ideas that way.

How did the others respond to your song, “Stay”? Jung Kook: That song was originally meant to be on my mixtape. We planned to put a different song on the album, but after V heard it, he said, “This song that Jung Kook wrote is really good,” and then the other members all listened, said it was better than the other one, and somehow (laughs) “Stay” made it into the album. The message for the other song was also, “Even though we’re far apart, stay just where you are.” I wrote my song with the same theme so I loved that it was included in BE. At first, I wanted to talk about how we’re always together, using the English word “wherever.” I wanted to express how we’re always together no matter where we are, but Namjoon heard that and said “Stay” might be better. I liked his suggestion, so I changed it. He really helped me to organize my thoughts, since I’m not always good at writing everything I want to express.

One might go as far as to say the lyrics sound heartbreaking, but it’s arranged in EDM. Jung Kook: We imagined we were performing for the fans while we made it, jumping up and down with them.

It sounds like you really miss your fans. Jung Kook: This album really hit us in a different way, with this situation being what it is. Because the world is struggling with COVID-19, we have to keep our heads up and convey our messages to our fans.

What can your fans expect from you when you finally meet again? Jung Kook: There’s nothing specific, but when I watched our old performances, my facial expressions were awkward and my dance moves weren’t always perfect. I keep working to improve myself, so I hope when the fans see me, they think my performance is amazing and that my aura fills the stage.

Are you happy with how you look in your latest work? Jung Kook: I’m not 100% satisfied, no. When we did performances for “Dynamite” recently I kept seeing my imperfections.

Your acting in the intro to your “Dynamite” performance was really impressive. Even in COVID-19 times, you captured a feeling of liveliness and being cool, as though to explain what the song is all about. Jung Kook: Actually, on the first day of filming the music video, I was supposed to film my parts first, but I was so bad that it had to be pushed to the end of the shoot. So,I was a bit more relaxed when the camera rolled.

So that’s what you get when you’re relaxed! (laughs) Jung Kook: Yes, I relaxed, and something went “pop!” and “boom!” inside me, and then I did it however I wanted. (laughs)

It’s fascinating how someone who performs the way you do during stadium tours can feel nervous while filming and yet still do so well in it. Jung Kook: I can be a shy person. When people used to ask me to sing, I couldn’t always do it—like in front of adults or teachers. And I’m still a bit like that. If I start thinking, “Oh, I can’t do this,” then I really end up not being able to do it. Even when I could have done well.

Why do you think that is? Jung Kook: I feel the same way about my dancing and my singing, and I can’t compose a really amazing melody either. I feel like I’m always somewhere in the middle. But then I also think I have my own colors, so I like to quietly, slowly open up to people, and let them know what kind of person I am. Yeah, something like that. (laughs)

But, when you review your songs and performances objectively, you see all of your changes, don’t you? Jung Kook: There’s a lot of change. My voice has changed a lot; I grew taller and my frame and facial structure have changed, too. I could tell how awkward I looked at the beginning, but after a while, I think, “My gestures look better now, but I feel like my dance is too rigid.” And again after a while, “Now my dance is fine and my gestures are good, but I’m making awkward facial expressions.” And later, I say, “Now I got the facial expressions down, but, hmm, there’s no killer move.” (laughs) That’s how I slowly changed. And then my actions, thoughts, dreams, goals, what I value, what I want to do—all these things will change depending on the situation.

You had some changes in BE, too. Throughout “Life Goes On,” you lightly carry your voice and tone throughout the whole song, like they’re flowing. Jung Kook: Right. I think that’s very important. My general feeling was my voice should be woven into the song, rather than bringing out my individual voice. The lyrics say the world stopped, but I can’t keep on being sad, and life continues and flows on. I wanted to mix a little bit of my own colors into that complex, subtle sadness. I listened to how the other members recorded their parts for the song, and I sang while thinking about how I could do it in a way that it would all blend together well. I kept changing my voice exploring how to make it sound better, cleaner. I kept trying new things while I was recording, performing, and practicing.

When you look back after all that change, don’t you feel like you accomplished a lot? Jung Kook: I don’t really pay attention to things that have already happened. I think more about what it is I need right now, so I rarely think, “I got a lot better from how I used to be,” or, “I did a good job.”

You sound insatiable, in a good way. Jung Kook: Yes. This is how I want to keep living, and I hope this feeling never fades.

You’ve found immense success with BTS. What makes you want to keep doing more and keep improving yourself? Jung Kook: I want to show people who I am: how I talk, how I act, how I sing, and so on. And after that, I want to be acknowledged for doing what I like to do, and for people to see what an amazing guy I am. I want to do these things step by step. I want to be appreciated as Jung Kook, as the real me.

What do you think is the source of that energy—the energy to keep proving yourself, even though you’ve already achieved so much with BTS? Jung Kook: I think my heart’s telling me to. BTS was able to climb this high thanks to the group members, the company and our fans. But there’s always the question of whether I could receive that kind of recognition by myself, so I have this feeling of wanting to throw myself at some challenge alone. There’s a lot I want to do, and a lot I want to achieve.

By gradually improving yourself, what kind of person would you ideally want to become? Jung Kook: A person who’s crazy awesome in their field. (laughs) Those kinds of people look cool even when they do something different. I still have a long way to go. I feel like I could be more captivating and draw more out of people by improving any number of things, by trying hard to be confident about my singing, or the way I dance and perform. BTS is way more important and meaningful to me than I am to myself, so I’m not saying I want to do anything alone. But I hope I get to the point where I can perform alone for three or four hours in a venue full of people.

It’s clear that your job, music, is very important to you. Jung Kook: I must never let it go. That’s what I always think. I have to keep it close to me, even if I get bored, or I don’t want to hear it, or it feels like a hassle. I want to keep on making music. It may be a long ways down the road, but I want to prove myself with my music.

You said before that your MBTI is ISFP, so I looked it up. Obviously, MBTI can’t sum up a person perfectly, but it says ISFPs tend to be “curious artists.” Your answer reminds me of that. Jung Kook: That sounds about right. I looked up the personality traits for ISFP too, and it was interesting. (laughs)

Maybe that’s the reason you set your goals so high. You seem like you have high standards and want to keep growing. Jung Kook: It’s like a foggy mountain top. (laughs) I can’t even see it yet.

You’ve been climbing for seven years, staying curious. Is there anything you want to say to the people who have been watching you all this time? Jung Kook: Umm … Well, there are seven of us, and the seven of us keep running ahead. So it’s possible we could get tired, one by one, and drop out, right? But if more people join us, one by one, and run with us, we can support each other and pull each other up if someone falls down. That’s kind of how I feel. There are people who supported us from the beginning who have been watching us the whole time since, and because of them our follower count keeps going up, and they all keep us on track. So the only thing I can say is—thank you. We were nothing special, really (laughs) but they keep on liking us and supporting us, and the best way we can repay them is to give them our all through our music and our performances. They push me to work hard, even on things I find difficult. (laughs) I’m eternally grateful.

Just like in the last line of “Stay.” Jung Kook: “We are together.”

Trans © Weverse

#bangtan #jungkook #weverse #weverse magazine #be album #comeback interview #201127 #2020

1K notes · View notes

thepeakyfckingblinders · 4 years

Text

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23 for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it.

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues. Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place.

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back. A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal, @shadow-of-wonder, @stassaurus, @peachlle, @livvtheangel, @myjbphase, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest, @vxxn128, @keithseabrook27, @spaghettirogers, @writingstudent, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove, @geeksareunique, @cailoleaf, @simonsbluee , @hereforsmutandfluff, @starxtt, @jenepleurepasbaby, @staygold-bebold, @marvelschriss, @captivatedbycillianmurphy

3K notes · View notes

http-mingi · 4 years

Text

room 657. ⤑ jjk + kth ☏︎

⟶ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : you didn't even realise you were calling a hotline. you're best friend jimin gave you a random number. he said it was a surprise ? well you're in for one.

♡︎ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 : sexhotline!au, worker!taehyung, worker!jungkook, student!reader

♡︎ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 : ∝ filthy smut if you squint there’s fluff

♡︎ : 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 : sorry i fr forgot to do the word count !!

⟶ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 : stressed reader, soft!dom jungkook, harddom!tae , big cock!tae, bigcock!jungkook, size kink??, sub!reader, pussy eating, dirty talk, face riding, hair pulling, fingering, cum eating, praise kinda?? unprotected sex, roughsex, multiple orgasms, heavy heavy dom sub themes, brat!reader , dom/sub themes, pet names, daddy!kink, threesome, dirty talk, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, begging, humiliation, creampie, intense orgasms(?), multiple orgasms, cum eating, insecurities, derogatory language, sexual face-slapping, punishments, dumbification, overstimulation, basically pwp.

let's go!

you sighed heavily as your boots clicked along the laminated floor of your university.

today so far had been a hassle. traffic kept you 2 hours late from school you were earlier fired from your job. your ex boyfriend had recently been stalking you and to top it off there was no hot water this morning.

you were beyond stressed.

most of the time you could deal with it you had thousands of stress relieving techniques. but this time you were all types of frustrated, with school, your job, sexually, friendships, family. you sighed heavily as you dragged yourself inside your classroom.

the bright walls of your university aided in your pounding headache. the distinct smell of coffee and muffins flooded your nose as you blinked slowly.

the tall dark bookcases shielding you from the sunlight as you sluggishly made your way to your seat.

you slumped down on your chair as you massaged your temples in effort to calm your self down. your headache clouded your vision immensely you hastily downed your water and some paracetamol nursing your forehead throughout.

you hadn’t been out on a real date in months. it seemed like the universe didn’t want you on dates, you rarely ever found yourself being okay with that fact.

whilst in a trance your best friend jimin walked excitedly into the classroom.

he constantly and i mean constantly reminded you off the things you were missing out on but it wasn’t like you didn’t want to go out but the issue was you were way too busy.

being an english, law and history major meant that you were constantly studying literally.

you did love him though he always tried for you.

"_____ !! " your friend jimin called out to you. you grumbled in annoyance as you turned your neck towards him.

"what." you sighed out tiredly.

" what the- what's wrong with you ______ ?!" he exclaimed loudly.

" jimin... why are you so loud. " you whine loudly.

“ shut up ___ im literally your only friend.” he said nonchalantly.

“ stopppp!” you whined with a breathy giggle.

“ anyways what are you doing here you have biology?” you asked innocently wiping your exhausted eyes.

“ uhhh... well..”

“ spit it outtt.” you say , head tilting slightly.

" sorry _____ i just- i have a number to give you and i don't call it until you get home! trust me you'll thank me later!!”

0800-765-877

it looked like a legit number so you decided to trust him this one time.

"come on ____ class ended 20 minutes ago wake up." he whined loudly.

" what.....? " you yawned as you groggily wiped your eyes.

jimin let out an exasperated sigh as he dragged you out of class and to your apartment.

" i love you but sometimes i feel like stabbing you. " he says plainly.

" sorry chim, ive just been really stressed lately. i'll make it up to you i promise."

"you can make it up to me by calling that number, it'll solve all your problems i promise."

" jimin... did you connect me to a sugar daddy or something? " you asked as you flopped down onto your sofa

" something like that." he said grinning

" okay well you can go home now . " you muttered yawning

" promise me you'll call them? "

" okay, okay now you can go. "

as jimin left you groaned into your pillow did you have to call them it wasn't really gonna change anything. but at the same time jimin would do the same for you.

your home was simple, minimalistic but you loved it your soft grey sofa in the corner. your small tv playing comfort noise in the background.

you fought your tiredness to finish your essay due for next week. you ached in places you didn't even know you had the most you were aching was down there.

you hadn't had any sexual action in weeks even months.

you decided to go up to your room to try and relive yourself.

you sighed as your hands hovered over the pulsating area.

as a finger trailed it's way up your slit you involuntarily whined as you got tired of the foreplay you plunged a finger inside your soppy cunt.

your plush walls also fighting to relish your much needed orgasm as you groaned into your pillow.

you moaned, whined, groaned and breathed heavily as you desperately tried to reach your high.

you angrily quickened your pace. you were trying so hard yet you still weren't feeling anything.

in a huff you decided to stop trying to reach your endless high.

in the corner of your eye you saw the number jimin had left you.

it wouldn't hurt to call right?

it wasn't gonna be anything weird..... right ?

you took a small breathe as your fingered trembled attempting to type in the numbers.

1 ring

2 rings

3 rings

......

" h-hello? " you whispered out meekly

" hey honey, why don't you speak up for us?" the man on the other end spoke in a deep voice

" im sorry i- i don't know what this- is r-really for?" you spoke slightly louder as you stumbled over your words

"it's a sexhotline darling? "

" i- i well oh...” you huffed out , eyes widening softly you were lost in a trance of thought.

you were suddenly put on hold.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you gave yourself time to think.

it wouldn’t hurt right?

you were basically an adult, you felt like a teenage girl again.

so you decided.

Putting a client on hold was a part of their fun. It allows the person to wait and to draw out the anticipation. however in this case you were just confused.

you’ve been pacing back and forth inside your bedroom for minutes it was half eleven in the night , and you certainly didn’t think that your attention would be on this instead of your essay.

suddenly you heard another 'hello' erupt from the phone quickly you grabbed your device breathing heavily you gulped and mustered up your voice.

" h- hi i just want you to know that y-you can carry on I've been- struggling and i- need some just some help?" you say whispering the last part.

" you want us to help you cum bun? " another voice said this time it was lighter, kinder in a way.

“don’t make us talk to ourselves, darling.” the other man snarls.

a gasp emits from your dry lips when the tone of his voice turns firm. there was a strict, domineering tinge in his speech that made you sit still. you were too shocked to reply as your mind tried to comprehend the situation that you got yourself into.

“I-I…” you stuttered completely, wanting to smack yourself in the face. the pet names, their voices it was all over whelming you too much.

you let out a needy whine, both of the men groaned quietly into the phone.

" how old are you baby ? " baby. they called you baby.

" i-im 19? "

" fuck, will you be okay with this?" they ask to make sure

jungkook can’t help the soft growl escape his lips. It has been so rare for him to receive callers who aren’t twenty-five and above, and you might be his first time.

“Ohh, baby girl,” he bites his lip, “I think you’re the first client I’ve had who’s so young.” jungkook says to you

“ is that okay , i-im sorry- "

“Oh, its more than okay , baby. You still wanna continue? I can make you feel so…” he pauses, groaning quietly to himself, “so good.”

your pussy clenches around nothing as you felt yourself getting wetter by the second

" yes daddy. " you say nodding to yourself. you suddenly froze as you realised the contents of your words

taehyung's eyes widen in shock, his mouth agape, certainly not expecting that sudden word to come out of your lips. He throws his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he feels his dick harden.

It was so difficult for him to hold himself back because all he wanted to do was to say the dirtiest, nastiest things that he wants to do to you in your ear. but he had to slow down.

“daddy? Oh, what makes you call me that, hm? baby?”

you feel your throat go dry, your eyes wide in shock. You didn’t know what to respond without being so shocked with yourself.

" i-i just really need you please please please i need it. " you let it all out, you couldn't be bothered to hide it anymore.

“don’t be a brat kitten.“ taehyung snarled into the phone.

“ b-but daddy! please i- i need it so so bad it’s not fair!“ you whined softly as your fingers ghosted your aching, soppy cunt.

they both groaned loudly, as jungkook conversed with taehyung

" kook, fuck i need to do her in real life she's making this so hard for me."

" same here let's just go for it here she's going to make me cum in my pants." he sighed as he palmed himself to your weak whimpers.

" darling, me and tae were wondering if you wanted to do this in real life- we'd fuck you so good honey, you'd become our little cum dump id love to see your body tremble to the force of my cock. " taehyung said interrupting jungkook.

" yes.. please you said as you moaned quietly to their words

" okay bun, we'll text you where to meet us." jungkook breathed out.

the atmosphere was dripping with heavy lust your eyes shut right as you relished their deep gutural voices.

“ i can’t cum daddy please help me cum pleas-“ you begged in frustration

“oh honey, it’s okay sh- sh it’s ok ill help you just be patient okay? you can do that for me right?” jungkook said in a calm tone

" what's your name by the way."

" it's ____." you say meekly

" ____ edge yourself, fuck yourself just do not cum. "

and with that in the call ended

you sighed loudly grinning slightly, you were gonna get your brains done out by two sexy sounding men.

you smiled to yourself giddily as you finally got some sleep.

________________

the next morning you got up and did your daily routine entirely different you waxed everywhere, shaved, exfoliated, moisturised, basically every strawberry flavoured you had in your bathroom.

it was a Saturday, you had time to spare you texted jimin to meet him before you went to meet 'kook' and the other guy.

not to mention you were frustrated beyond belief you had done what they asked you to do and you half hate half love them for it.

on one hand you could cum from any suggestive touch you were given.

on the other hand you couldn't help but want to thank them you felt so ready for them.

you walked to the cafe.

the soft brown walls encompanied the mahogany floors and the cascade of plants across the room as you happily walked into the bustling cafe.

" what's got you so excited." he said grinning like the Cheshire cat

" uh nothing i just had some good sleep last night. " a lie.

" oh really? "

" yeah i even finished my essay!" not true but not false at the same time.

" wow! " jimin looked at you shocked

" jimin do you really have that little faith in me. " you say annoyed

" to be honest no. " he said chuckling

" jiminnn, well i have to be going now i have an appointment soon. " you explain pouting

" an appointment where? "

" somewhere special ? " you say in attempt to hide

" if you say so. " he uttered playfully and he watches you walk away

you stared at the building in front of you as you checked the address again and again it was a massive condo.

you rang the bell of the apartment square and dialled in the number seconds later you were buzzed in.

you took the elevator and anxiously played with your fingers you finally reached the floor you were headed to and walked into room 657 .

" h-hello i-im here it's ______ " you say confused you really made a large mistake.

suddenly turning around, you were pulled into a sloppy kiss. You immediately relaxed into it, wrapping your arms around his neck the deeper it went. Before it could go on too long, he pulled away.

Pressed between both of their bodies, you could help the way your body reacted. Your lips met Taehyung's again and you whimpered.

Jungkook took the opportunity to press his lips against your neck, skimming them over the collar now around your neck.

He hands gripped your waist, pulling your shirt up ever so slightly to touch the skin that became exposed.

Goosebumps across your skin and you gasped into Taehyung's mouth. The elder chuckled, reaching down to where Jungkook's deft fingers explored to tug up the hem of your shirt.

you gasped loudly as you tensed under their touch.

Already, you could feel your mind turning fuzzy, falling into your submissive roll to let them mold you how they wanted.

Jungkook chuckled as you lifted your arms, allowing Taehyung to pull your shirt off. Left in your bra, you couldn't help but cover your chest as vulnerability set in.

"None of that, bun," Jungkook growled softly, ripping your arms away from your chest. "You wanna be a good girl for us right? Let us take care of you?"

"Y-Yes..." You whined, whining when Taehyung leaned down pressing kisses against your chest above the seam of your bra. Gasping, you pushed your chest out to get more of the feeling.

"What a good girl," Taehyung cooed, falling to his knees in front of you.

You leaned back, using Jungkook as support to help Taehyung pull your jeans off completely. He tossed them away in a heap nearby and without wasting a second, his mouth was on your core.

The fabric of your panties put on the side, feeling his mouth on you fully but as he slid his tongue over your slit and caught your clit, you let out a soft moan.

"What a good kitten for us," Jungkook groaned, hands still cupping your breasts. He pinched your nipples, making your back arch as you cried out.

“Is that pretty pussy wet, Princess? Does your cunt ache to be filled by my cock?” jungkook coaxes

The filth of his words doesn’t surprise you, Under his teasing words, you feel yourself grow wet, your lust-filled desire mingling with the humiliation that flutters through you.

"Aw, your pussy that sensitive, baby?" Taehyung cooed pressing his middle finger to glide directly over the patch where your clit was, making your hips curve inwards as the intensity was blare enough to startle you.

He chuckled deeply at that, kind of sounding like a purr and just when you didn't think he could fuck with your sanity anymore than he was already doing, he turned his head to the side and lapped his wet muscle along your jugular vein before enclosing his lips area the area for harsh suck.

you moaned loudly as you arched your back against jungkook. taehyung put one leg over his shoulder to go deeper.

"Daddy!" You cried as his tongue slid through your folds. He moaned at the unimpeded taste of your cunt. Circling your entrance, he eagerly tasted everything you had to offer.

" don't take it all tae, shit she looks hot." jungkook groaned into your neck, biting licking and sucking against your sweet spot.

you whined as you trembled against the two men. you felt hot.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, spasming when he gave you a slap against your sodden folds . " I—!"

" be careful girl." jungkook growled into your ear

you moaned apologies left right and centre as he continued to abuse your aching clit.

suddenly you were harshly pulled away from taehyung's hot wet muscle and pushed into the soft plush bed.

you whined in protest at your denied orgasm.

" now, you're going to choose. me or tae." jungkook questioned sadistically

" i...i can't choose that i okay um jungkook?" you said in a small voice.

" good decision honey, now lie back let me take care of you." he cooed kindly

taehyung scoffed as he sat back

you were more than happy like this, but when you shifted your hips to grind your centre against his, you both groaned open-mouthed into the kiss.

You could feel that he was already hard in his boxers. Knowing that his willing cock was so close to your needy core erased your mind of any thoughts that weren't of him.

When you dragged your clit against him again you keened, the pleasure incredible despite the barriers between you.

he felt so big as you continued your actions

suddenly you felt his large and literally massive cock push into your plush soppy cunt.

you moaned loudly as jungkook groaned.

taehyung smirked as he shook his head.

" get moving i wanna see her squirt."

jungkook rocked back and forth at a steady pace it was amazing don't get me wrong but you wanted more you needed more.

"more! more please harder jungkook please! " you begged.

" princess, don't beg for things you can't keep up with." he chuckled

there was an animalistic gaze in his eye as he started plunging into your pussy, taehyung mouth open jerking himself off at the sight, your open lie open as he ground his fat cock into you.

you felt hot and euphoric and couldn't help but let moans continuously fall out of your mouth.

suddenly you felt a harsh slap on your face. you felt tears well up in your eyes.

Without warning, his cock was rammed inside you. Raw and hard with the way your pussy was soaking wet from your denied orgasm , he began to relentlessly fuck into you.

tears began spilling out of your eyes continuously and your moans became pornographic.

as if he couldn't go any faster he began to drill inside you, your body shook in ecstasy as his fat cock was pistoned into you.

you felt your high approaching, you panicked and begged for them to let you come.

" please! please let me cum ! ill be good , ill be a good girl ! " you cried out towards them

jungkook craned himself to be face to face with you, as he stared at you with his dark and lustful. his wet lips capture yours into a sloppy kiss .

he forced your mouth open and let his tongue glide upon yours. he sucked on the wet muscle softly as you cried out.

everything felt so good, too good.

you came 3 times alone with jungkook and felt overstimulated beyond belief.

" now it's my turn . " taehyung dead panned

" w-what i can't take anymore ill just su- "

" i said. it's my turn. " he uttered in a harsh tone

you wailed in frustration as your body writhed in defeat .

" you're gonna take it . that's what you asked for . " he spat at you.

observing the way your eyes darken, turning neediness, and the way your chest heaves in short breaths, Taehyung’s jaw flexes.

He pressed the tip against your hole, seeing you tense up almost immediately. taehyung rubbed the end of his cock along your wet cunt before sinking himself into you.

" d-daddy ple- ! " you body spasmed against the head board as taehyung suddenly slammed his body into you continuously.

“ you’re such an eager little whore, aren’t you?” he purrs, condescension laced in his tone.

you tightly held onto the relentless man as you felt your high approaching once more.

taehyung’s thrusts became sloppy as he grunted against your neck.

you felt your body swirl and turn around you and you finally came.

hours later

you groggily woke up as you felt your body give out into the bed.

“ hel- hello? ” you said wearily

“ hi princess.” taehyung smirked

“ round 5?” jungkook asked

you sighed as you submitted to them in their bed

here we go again.

5 missed calls from jimin

#jungkook #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #maknae line #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #networkbangtan #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bangtanarmynet #bangtan #bts network #bts au #smut #jungkook au #taehyung au

546 notes · View notes

angelkurenai · 4 years

Text

Lucky idiot - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Lucky idiot

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Hey sweetheart May I request a DeanxReader Imagine where reader is a mermaid but with a twist?Idk if you know the kids show called 'H2O just add water'But basically reader always turns into a mermaid if she gets into contact with water.And I imagined that reader would rescue dean from drowning after he was pushed off from a cliff by a ghost or sth?Then like thelittle mermaid moment where he sees her face after waking up.Then sam shows up and reader disappears.Then they meet her at a cafe I❤️u

“Look, all I'm saying is if you'd let me drive for this ti-”

“Get back to research, Sammy, I've got enough things on my head. Don't need you to make me more dizzy than I already am.” Dean grumbled before his brother could even get to finish his sentence.

“Which is exactly my point here.” Sam couldn't help but huff “Do you really think it's a good idea to drive while being so dizzy? I mean, for the love of, Dean, you nearly drowned three to four hours ago! Unless you're trying to finish the ghost's job right now, I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, letting me drive would give both of us higher chances of getting out of the car alive.”

“Bold of you to assume that if I let you drive, you'd get out of this car alive.” the older Winchester retorted with a half smile, that didn't feel even half as real though, before focusing as much as he could on the road before him “Besides, I've been more than nearly killed plenty of times and despite the trip to the other side, I was always the one to drive the car. I'm fine, just like every other time, Sammy. Only impatient to get some food. Again nothing new.”

“And that's supposed to calm me down now, or what? Honestly, Dean-” Sam huffed, shaking his head “I can't understand you sometimes. It was pure luck that you even found yourself out of there, alive. I mean, if the fall from that kind of cliff didn't do it then the water would have certainly been it and you know it.”

“But again it wasn't. Neither of the two did it for me as you can see, tough as it might have been. Unless, of course, your ranting is looking to be a serious contestant in that?”

“I assure you, me and my ranting are not trying to bore you to death. It's the last thing I want. But that doesn't mean I am not going to talk about it. Seriously Dean-” another shake of his head that this time earned an eye roll from the older Winchester “You could have drowned so easily and yet somehow you found your way to the shore, which let me point out is absolutely not normal. Not in the kind of situation you were in. Not unless there was some kind of help coming from very deep within that part of the water which is even more disturbing to think about. Maybe in equal measures to you not admitting that you being safe and sound on the shore within minutes from the spot you fell is suspicious. What if the ghost isn't the only supernatural creature here to begin with? What if we have to look more into other beings like...”

Sam kept going. Dean was sure of it. Not because he was listening closely, not because he was paying attention to every word and pondering over it because he had to admit that he hadn't made it out of the water on his own. There was no way he would have made it out alive on his own, that much he knew and could understand just like every other sane human being would easily would. That didn't mean it was because that's what he was currently wondering about. Not when there was little wondering to do about it, no. Both because he didn't have the mind to and also because... well, for the same reason as to why he couldn't listen to his brother at the moment. The images running through his mind.

Yes, he was sure Sam was talking to him but only because of the murmuring he could hear, which sounded more like a distant echo. And it was exactly because of those images which he couldn't shake off, he could never forget, that everything else around him sounded and looked distant and blurry. As if he wasn't part of the scenery, as if he wasn't living in it, but was actually more immersed in another world.

And truth be told, he was in a way. He was too focused in his memories, in the images, in the feelings that were still as vivid as they were a couple hours ago when he really felt them that he was almost reliving the moment. Even if part of that world, part of those feelings and moment were also just as distant and blurry as the present.

Dean was struggling, his entire body was struggling, his lungs were struggling, every cell and every inch of him, struggling to hold onto life. He wanted to hold onto the air in his lungs desperately so but as even more of it left and he couldn't find new one, his actions became more frantic and panicked than his thoughts. The fact that he had not been able to prepare for any of it had not helped to give him a head start of any kind, making it easier and faster for his vision to get blurry and filled with dark spots as the air and therefore fight left his body.

It was only when his mind had started feeling like it didn't care anymore, like there was no reason for fight and like maybe, just maybe, sleep would be a good choice. It wouldn't hurt anymore and he wouldn't have to struggle too hard, even if he really didn't get the chance to wake up ever again. His mind was in such a haze that all reason and will had left, perhaps even his perception of reality too. Because in his haze as he looked up he saw the blur of something that shouldn't have been there not only because he was all alone and sinking but also because it looked like something that shouldn't exist.

Then again, as he thought of it now in the car, he found about the existence of many things that shouldn't exist. Killed plenty of them too.

And yet none like this. It was no surprise that he kept it to himself, that he still wondered if it was all real in the first place. The flash of a shimmering white tail, not one of a shark or a dolphin, a fish could have been accurate if it wasn't for its shape and the colors that it reflected, sparkling under the minimal sun that could reach such depth almost holographic, extending long - almost endless in his eyes at that moment - brushing past his arms and legs, it was all still there in his mind. Vivid and clear as much as it had been that moment, which wasn't to say a lot, but he still could not shake off the feeling of arms wrapping around his body. Real hands, belonging to a human, touched his face. A small shake, he was sure there was that, but not only was his head a mess his eyes were also nearly closed and what sight he had was blurry. It didn't last long, Dean was surprised to even remember it, before a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and it was in that moment he felt the pull only followed seconds later by water moving past him at a speed that is by no means normal, but is certainly enough for Dean to close his eyes shut completely. The dizziness it offered mixing with his already hazy mind, led easily enough to him losing both track and sight of what was happening; and he was fairly sure his consciousness too.

He felt like he was coming in and out of consciousness far too many times for anything to make sense. There was no telling apart reality from hallucination to even dreams.

The feeling of being dragged into the shore was something like a ghost feeling in the back of his mind, arms around his torso dragging him and struggling to pull him out of the sea, sounds of struggling and an effort beyond the person's strength – because obviously the lack of water and presence of drenched clothes that only became heavier this way along with the sticking sand made it all much harder to move. Similar to that was the feeling of a pair of hands, human-like, far too human-like and that somehow set Dean on edge, that pressed on his chest, pushing with all the strength the person could master. And certainly similar to the feeling of hands on his face, the touch much more clear than when he was underwater, though still under a veil of haziness in his minds.

All of those moments, though, despite how blurry they seemed, despite how hard it was for him to figure out if they were real, he knew there was one that he couldn't have dreamed of; that it had to be real. The feeling of lips pressing on his cheek, chaste and feather-like and very hesitant much like the way a forehead rested against his; all shortly after he felt the water pour out of his lips – out of his lungs – like there was no ends. But there was, and in the end he could finally get the precious and much-needed oxygen his body was craving for. He was probably – certainly – still very dizzy and his vision had plenty of black spots but there was no mistaking the sigh of relief he heard, human-like so human-like, and a hand cupping his cheek.

“What could you possibly be doing there you idiot?” the voice was low, sounding very much English and very much human “If only you knew how lucky you were.” a small laugh, and it was probably the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, one he would never forget, he should never forget and he knew he'd hate himself if ever forgot “Lucky idiot. Hm seems fitting, since I can't get a name out of you. Who knows what-”

He could not remember more words being uttered, not from that soft and caring voice. He only remembered someone, someone that sounded a lot like Sam and was most likely him though his dizzy brain couldn't even put that together, call out his name in the far distance before came the sound of hasty rustling and water splashing. It was in those hasty few seconds that he got something he wished he could hold onto forever: His eyes slid open, just slightly so, catching sight of a face, your face.

Admittedly he had felt all air leave his lungs for the second time in that moment, and when your eyes met his and he noticed you pause for a half second, he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch you to make sure you were real. Or at least try to, because he didn't have the strength to get more than halfway there. Fact which he regretted later because he couldn't tell if you really had been a fragment of his imagination, what if the face he saw was only in his mind – hard as it would be for him to even dream and therefore make up such a sight.

A sight that combined with the very much mermaid-like, he could only now tell that he was driving and had sobered up, tail vanishing below the surface of the water had been keeping him on edge. Too much for it all to just have been a fragment of his own imagination. Not because it sounded and looked too crazy, nothing could with the kind of life he had, but because he didn't want it to be just him. He wanted it to be real even if he didn't know where he would ever get to see that face, feel those gentle and caring hands that had pulled him to his safety (if he was right about all of it) and hear that compassionate if not clearly teasing voice that revealed a real spark and personality underneath that he could easily adore.

Wait- Adore?

“That's it. That's the caf- Wait- Aren't you gonna stop he- Dean? Dean? Dean!” Sam nearly yelled to get his brother's attention, thankfully making the older Winchester press on the breaks and make the car come to a halt. The younger Winchester could only thank their lucky stars that the road was empty at the moment.

“Huh? Wh-what?” Dean blinked in surprise, as if finally having been brought back to reality.

“Alright, that's it.” Sam huffed stubbornly “We go in there, get something to eat and then you give me the keys and I'm keeping them for the next three days for sure. And I won't hear a single thing from you. We're lucky to be both alive at the moment. Got it?”

He did not leave any room for argument as he stormed out of the car and made his way to the cafe they were originally heading to. Dean, in all honesty, couldn't be more glad for it. It had been anything but silent in his head all this time, he could use a couple seconds of not thinking and not talking to put himself together because at the end of the day he had work to do as well.

Or at least that was what he kept telling himself, repeating the words over and over again like a mantra, to the point he almost believed it. To the point he believed that he had gotten you off his mind, to the point he believed he was getting over everything and to the point that he had convinced himself he was focused on the job and there would be no further distractions. Or at least so he thought until he pushed the cafe's door open and before he could take more than one step inside, felt something – or rather someone – collide with him.

He looked down, lips parted and ready to retort, only for the words to die out in his lips and every though to drown in the sea of disbelief and surprise that took over his entire being. Once more all air had left his lungs and yet the struggle for air had never been as painfully sweet as now.

“Well, look at that...” your voice was soft just like the smile that formed on your lips as your eyes locked with his and Dean still had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that you were there, right in front of him; before you added in a low voice “It's the lucky idiot.”

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot #mermaid #fantasy #au #x reader

423 notes · View notes

vaire-gwir · 3 years

Text

I’ve run out of my words

Post-mountain incident, Jaskier is a heart broken mess. The last thing he needs is an unexpected visit from Geralt.

I have accepted that it’s never going to be the same amount of words as I Find you all Unwoven, cause I re-wrote this three times and it just doesn’t happen.

Again, I was sad, that’s my excuse. English is not my first language, hope it doesn’t terribly suck!

***

It hurt a great deal when Jaskier sold his lute. He was attached to it for more than just sentimental reasons. Sometimes he felt like his life truly started the day he got that lute.

He was used to pain by now though, pain was just another thing creeping under the surface, it came and went in waves like the ocean, sometimes threatening to overwhelm him with memories and sometimes resting among the broken pieces of his heart, hissing like a snake waiting to strike.

It was always there, he just perceived it in different ways: some days it was like being on the edge of an empty abyss of nothingness, about to fall but never really tipping over, just going through the motion. Other times, there were the long nights when sleep refused to visit him and he'd get this urge under his skin, to move, to do something, anything to not feel trapped in his own flesh, caged by his own mind.

He tried to fight insomnia with the ink, but he proved a terrible fighter. He couldn't write anything anymore. When he tried to play, his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, and he'd get even the simplest of melody wrong, resulting in endless frustration that kept him up until dawn.

As much as he tried to outrun his ghost, he always ended up running right into it, and if he managed to keep his waking hours relatively Geralt-free, the dreams were always there. His journals paid the price of waking up for the hundredth time, after a nightmare that leaves him choking and incapable to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks.

He thought he'd feel relieved after watching it crackle and burn to ashes, as if destroying the evidence of his time with the Witcher could also destroy the heartache that came with it, but it doesn't work like that. Nothing he ever does stops him from being hollow.

Jaskier walks around the Academy like a shadow, trying to keep himself busy between lessons or at least trying to keep Geralt out of his thoughts. This simple task proved to be more complicated than he anticipated. He doesn't want to be here, he's not made for teaching and his students get on his nerves all the time. To be fair, most things get on his nerves since the mountain incident, but he doesn't have many options.

Sure, he could go home to his family, beg their forgiveness and implore his father to allow him back into court. That sounded as promising as jumping off a bridge.

Compared to that, even the room Madame M. offered him at the brothel looked like a golden palace. At least he had some talent for sex, he managed to convince even a Witcher to sleep with him, that hadn't been easy.

Jaskier stirs his mind in a safer direction, cause thinking about those nights will not do him any good. He still blames and curses himself for coming up with that stupid arrangement, cause why not Geralt, I'm here all the time, and I'm obviously very willing, besides you don't have to pay me, looks like a win-win situation to me. Looks like you're a special kind of idiot, Jaskier, that's what you are. Why did Geralt even accept anyway?

Jaskier blinks the memories away and focuses on trying to have lunch, cause that's what sane, normal people do. He's still struggling with normal though.

His plan flew out of the window when someone started to sing. Jaskier froze in his spot when he recognized the song. He wrote that. He should be pleased to hear it, but it's not pride he feels when he glances in the direction of the curly-haired boy in green velvet.

He will never play or sing another song again, and people will forget him sooner than Geralt did. The folks in this tavern don't know him, they don't know he wrote those lyrics to distract himself the first night Geralt didn't come back from a hunt and he feared for him every second of that dreadful night.

He spent hours cursing the Gods for making him so useless and prayed to them in the same breath, begging for their mercy. He felt stupid later, when Geralt showed up at dawn saying it took him longer than expected to break a curse. Jaskier told the Witcher how scared he had been and Geralt dismissed him as the fool he was.

He's scared of being forgotten, of being meaningless and unimportant. No one is going to remember Jaskier, the bard that traveled the continent with the White Wolf and shared his adventures.

He left Jaskier on top of that mountain, he's just Julian now, just a teacher, just another idiot that got his heart broken. Geralt left him like everyone else. That's what people do, they just leave and move on with their lives. So why couldn't he move on too?

There's a small shift in the air, and while he tries to regain control of his thoughts, for some unknown reason, destiny, the universe, life or the Gods, make him turn his head toward the entrance.

There is no mistaking the white hair he sees, or the dark armour. Jaskier knows he has to leave before Geralt sees him. The sole idea of Geralt being here is enough to leave him shaking.

What are the chances of meeting the Witcher outside Oxenfurt? There were no contracts in town, why was fate trying his best to mess with his life today, was the song not enough? He feels like his head is swimming and he knows he doesn't have time to panic cause his heart beats so loudly he fears Geralt will spot it in a second.

He puts some coins in the maid's hand and stumbles out of the place.

He can't face him. Not today. Probably not ever, cause he can't imagine he'll ever be ready to face the one that broke his heart without holding any anger or resentment towards him. Why must he feel like this, Geralt never cared for him, so why is he still drowning in his feelings for the idiot?

Jaskier is a poet, he should know a thing or two about heartache. He should also know that he's out of luck today.

"Why did you follow me, Witcher?" Jaskier feels his presence a few paces behind him, still so painfully familiar to him even after all these months.

"How did you know..." There's a puzzled expression on Geralt's face. Jaskier knows he's not prepared for this.

It takes him a second to realize that no matter how angry he is at the Witcher, how deep his sorrow runs and how broken his heart is, a small part of him is almost glad to see him. It's the same small part that decided to talk to a stranger and follow him on a dangerous journey, the one that figured out first that what he was feeling was more than a crush, and that accepted every scrap of affection Geralt showed him like he was being handed the world on a silver plate.

Geralt is exactly how he remembers him, and his betrayer heart jumps in his chest when their eyes meet.

"I saw you at the tavern. I spent so long searching for your face in every crowd I started to think I was seeing things, but apparently I was right this time." I love you, I'd recognize your steps everywhere, the cracking of the leather in your gloves and the click of the metal of that buckle in your armor you always forget to fix after a hunt, I know them as if they were my own. I love you, and you broke my heart. That's what he wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat, they're no use now.

"I... You were not singing." Jaskier knows it's not surprise he sees on Geralt's face when he answers "I don't do that anymore." but he can't figure out what it is.

It hurt when he realized he couldn't bring himself to sing or play anymore, it left him feeling even emptier than before, cause he always thought he'd have his music to console him, to defend him from the things life was throwing at him, to build a wall around himself and protect whatever was left of him. How wrong he was.

"Why not?" Jaskier wishes he could explain that when they parted on top of the mountain, when he forced himself to say "See you around Geralt" knowing he'll never see him again, when he tried to process those heavy words that rolled off the Witcher's tongue, his love for music, for poetry, for life, rolled off too and hid somewhere he couldn't reach anymore. But Geralt never cared for his music.

"Don't act like you care. I'm not the same person I was ten months ago. Besides, you hate my singing, you can barely stand my voice, what difference does it make to you?" Keeping his tone even and preventing his voice from breaking is hard, harder than any performance he ever had to do. Ten months ago feel like a lifetime away now, it doesn't even seem real. The ache in his chest is always there to remind him that it is.

"That's not true." Jaskier sees how he clenches his hands as if those words meant a great effort for him. The Gods know how many times he looked into Geralt's eyes after singing, desperately seeking his approval and finding only a mild annoyance, like this was just another thing he had to endure.

"It's like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling. There's a word for that, in case you didn't know, and it's called disappointment. Now, why did you follow me out here? I don't think it was to tell me you suddenly like my voice cause we both know you don't and honestly, bit late for that, don't you think?" Jaskier wants to be annoyed, he should be furious for what Geralt did to him, for leaving him like he meant nothing, but these days being mad is a lot of effort. He doesn't have it in him anymore, it's easier to let go of the anger. It doesn't make him feel less empty or less broken anyway.

"I just thought...we could maybe....talk?" Jaskier laughs bitterly.

"Really Geralt? That's rich coming from you. Now you want to talk? You know what, no. No, you don't get to come here and tell me you want to talk after I spent ten gods forsaken months trying to forget you. Don't you fucking dare. Not like this. Now if there's something I can help you with, do say so. If not, spare us both this conversation, I'm not sure I'm in the mood to have my heart broken again." Jaskier is not even sure there is something left to break.

He'll never admit it but deep down he knows there's no forgetting Geralt. And he curses that small part of him that wants to listen to him, to let him talk and explain, cause he knows that he'd go back to traveling with the Witcher right this second if he so much as says he'd take him back. Stupid, stupid Jaskier. A Witcher apologizing, as if.

"I'll leave you to your things then. Goodbye, Jaskier." Saying goodbye, even knowing that it's for the best, doesn't make it any less painful.

"You were right." Geralt looks at him in a way he has never seen before, for a second he thinks it's hurt that he sees flickering in those golden eyes, but it lasts a second. He should know Geralt doesn't care about him enough to be hurt by something he says or does.

"You spent so much time trying to convince me to leave you alone and stop following you around and I never fucking listened. I realized you were right. Cause you, you got what you wanted, life, destiny, whatever, you had your sorceress and I'm finally off your hands. But what about me? That is why I wish...I wish I would have listened to you. Left. Before it was too late. Before having my heart broken."

His voice breaks at the end, he feels the tears stinging his eyes and he turns to walk away before Geralt notices it. Pain comes in waves, and today he's drowning.

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geraskier fic #the witcher fanfiction #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher fandom #the witcher fic #geralt/jaskier #sad jaskier #heartbroken jaskier #fanfiction #quarantine writing

70 notes · View notes

tkln · 3 years

Text

Getting closer

Notes: It’s my first time writing a tickle fic, or any fic really. English isn't my first language so I always thought it would be impossible for me to write anything of worth in this community (sorry in advance for the multiple grammar mistakes and typos). But never say never, here's my little piece of work to thank this great community. I found the inspiration reading Smile, Parrish from @happyandticklish ^^

Summary: Adam is losing his mind out of worry and Ronan decides to make him lose it out of laughter.

It was one of those intense moments when Ronan didn't know how to proceed. He was sitting, legs crossed, at Adam bedroom's floor. He was discreetly staring at the other boy who was on his bed with a face of pure concentration mixed with a bad hidden anguish. The wizard in training was absorbed trying to work out the last details of his master plan against their Latin teacher. He knew there was something he was missing out but couldn't tell what… and he was growing more frustrated every passing minute.

For his part Ronan felt quite helpless about the whole thing. Knowing what his part would be (most likely dreaming something shady) he wasn't particularly worried about not contributing right now. Adam was the brain behind this plan after all and he trusted his friend. That wasn't the problem. What bothered him was the frown that so perfectly matched the eye bags in Adam's gloomy face. Adam wasn't all that smiley, not around Ronan at least, but it doesn't mean the latter appreciated the expression. Besides, there was this oil stain under Adam's left ear that the dreamer so intensely wanted to reach out and clean but didn't dare.

Without anything else to entertain himself, Ronan decided to take a quick nap. However, before he could move to lie down the other teen exploded.

"I can't do it! We need this to work out, we can't afford to make any mistakes here, this move has to be flawless or we are never going to get rid of him. God why can't I figure this out? I've been going over this part for the last 30 minutes and I can't come up with any decent idea!" Ronan was openly staring now. He didn't expect such a sudden outburst.

"Parish-"

"We aren't even getting closer to solving this. How can I be so useless? And how could I think that this was gonna work? Of course it won't. Things never work for me, how can they? You're so pathetic Adam!-"

"ENOUGH!" Ronan finally interrupted. Adam even jumped a little in fright and his eyes connected with pale blue. "Have you finished your sorry monologue?" Ronan tried to control his tone, trying not to sound too harsh despite the words. Some part at the back of his mind wondered if this whole self-deprecation rant was the consequence of being raised by that sorry excuse of a father Adam got. The notion made him mad so he decided to ignore it for the time being. "Look, you're just stressed and tired Parish. Take a break and start again later".

"I can't just leave it like this Lynch. I have to solve it and I have to solve it now".

"Well you're not solving anything in this state so better listen to me and rest for a while". But Adam wasn't planning on changing his mind and lowered his head again to stare blankly at the scribbled price of paper in his hands. That's when a tick in Ronan's eye twitched and pounced without another word. He pushed Adam against the mattress, pinned both wrists under his knees without caring about the sheet of paper and started to knead Adam's sides without pause.

"Lynch! what arehaha youhuh doing!? Hahahaha" Adam was at a loss. One moment he was reading his neat handwriting and the next he had Ronan's face above his and terribly tickle fingers sending shivers through his body.

"First of all, you don't get to ignore me" Even though Ronan was enjoying the view of a blushing Adam giggling at his mercy, he tried to keep a neutral expression. "After that you don't get to do precisely the opposite" He reached up for the ribs and the boy underneath started to squirm wildly while laughing fully now. "What happen Parrish? A good spot?"

Adam was dying. He knew his ribs were sensitive but this was ridiculous. He has never been tickled like this before and Ronan was precise with both pace and technique, digging relentlessly in between every rib.

"NOAA HAHAHAHA STOOHOHOP IHIHIT!!" Ronan finally smirked at that. The blush in Adam's face was darkening and little tears were starting to gather around his eyes. He struggled as much as he could but it was useless. Ronan got him and got him good. He couldn't escape so he quickly resorted to begging.

"PLEHEHEHEASE I CHAHAHAN'T! NOOOOHOHOHO! PLEASE HAHAHA NOO" Ronan decided to give him a breather and moved to gently scribbled around his abdomen. This made the wizard return to a state of messy giggles with a huge smile still plastered in his face. His cheeks were burning and ached a bit from the effort. "Why arehaha you hehehe dohohoing this?"

"Because it was clear you needed for someone to make you take a break. Sometimes, when we were younger, Declan got a little anxious whenever my father was out working for long. Mathew and I would start tickle fights with him to unwind him. It was the only thing that I could think of to both punish and help you out". It was rare for the dreamer to share that much, especially when it included Declan, but he was feeling quite at ease right now, like at home.

"Dahahamn, that's whyhihi you're so gohohod at thihihihs". Adam admitted, trying and failing to get used to the fingers and nails currently dancing around his upper abs.

"Good? Just good? I'm the best dude! I'll show you what I can really do. Don't you think I didn't notice how you tremble every time I get close to your hips". With that he dug his thumbs into Adam's hip bones and was rewarded with the most hysterical and high pitched laugh he had heard so far.

"NOHOHOT THEREEE AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Adam threw his head back and let all his pent up frustration spill out through his mouth. There was nothing else in that moment but Ronan and his hands peeling out both his laughter and anxiety. It was unbearable and at the same time liberating. Until the urge to breath was more important.

"YOU WIHIHINN STOPAHAHAHA!!" Immediately Ronan retreated and seated beside the poor curled up and still giggling teen. Out of pity he started rubbing soothing circles in the other's back until the giggles died out.

"You did stop"

"Of course I did, I wasn't trying to torture you Parrish".

"It looked like that you know". Adam finally turned around and gazed up.

"Oh please, don't tell me you couldn't handle it. I only saw you desperate at the very end. Besides, guess what? I was right. You look so much better now".

Adam was glad he was already blushing from all the laughter, because that soft look in Ronan's eyes and the wording was doing funny things to his stomach.

"Well Ronan don't expect me to thank you".

The other teen snorted and lay down on the bed. Now he could peacefully take that nap. He also turned his back to Adam to hide the pleased smile at being called by his given name. He knew. They were getting closer. Step by step.

#tickle fic #the raven boys #adam parrish #ronan lynch #adam #ronan #pynch #lee!adam #ler!ronan #tickling #tickling to chill out

26 notes · View notes

fyeah-bangtan7 · 3 years

Text

Jung Kook: “I hope this feeling never fades”

One might go as far as to say the lyrics sound heartbreaking, but it’s arranged in EDM. Jung Kook: We imagined we were performing for the fans while we made it, jumping up and down with them.

Are you happy with how you look in your latest work? Jung Kook: I’m not 100% satisfied, no. When we did performances for “Dynamite” recently I kept seeing my imperfections.

So that’s what you get when you’re relaxed! (laughs) Jung Kook: Yes, I relaxed, and something went “pop!” and “boom!” inside me, and then I did it however I wanted. (laughs)

You sound insatiable, in a good way. Jung Kook: Yes. This is how I want to keep living, and I hope this feeling never fades.

Maybe that’s the reason you set your goals so high. You seem like you have high standards and want to keep growing. Jung Kook: It’s like a foggy mountain top. (laughs) I can’t even see it yet.

Just like in the last line of “Stay.” Jung Kook: “We are together.”

#bangtan #jungkook #m:weverse magazine #o:interview #201127

88 notes · View notes

cherriesfineline · 3 years

Text

MEET HALFWAY OUR NEEDS - one shot

a/n: hi! this is my first time ever posting one of my writings online (I'm about to shit myself but oh well). I literally wrote this so fast I'm impressed, but anyways I (kind of) proof read this -not really- just quickly read through it after I finished it. English isn't my first language (I'm so self conscious I'm probably gonna say that every time I post something) but besides that, I really hope you enjoy this <3 feedback is truly appreciated, it helps me improve!

-Joey

Pairing: Harry x Y/N

Warnings: detailed sexual content

Word count: 9.2k (of mostly smut??? sorry)

the one where Harry wants to get married but Y/N doesn't.

As you grow older, you start realizing life isn't as easy as it seemed when you were a kid. Not everyone gets lucky enough to have a job they're passionate about. Not everyone can satisfy all their necessities. In fact, you realize it's most people instead of "not everyone". Friendships and relationships won't last you a lifetime (those promises of being there for each other forever now seem like genuine naiveness) if you don't put enough effort in them. When you are young you believe that being able to play for hours straight without getting bored is what true friendship is about. And maybe it is, during those years. Adult relationships require a lot of time, and effort. And sometimes, sacrifice. Conversations have a different weight, and being able to trust someone with your most uneasy thoughts and experiences is hard. To find and to keep. When it comes to love, you start realizing that the thrill and intensity of teen romance isn't what true love is about. It's not about getting into fights, hardcore jealousy and toxicity behaviors. It's about being able to just be there, with that someone. Being able to coexist in each other's worlds, share what you're passionate about without any fear or remorse, being able to communicate. To ask for help when needed. Now, that doesn't mean things can't get complicated. For the past two months, Y/N and Harry's relationship has been balancing on a very, extremely, thin line. After six years of being together, and three of those living together, being the happiest they've ever been, everything started to look different for Harry. He was ready to take a step Y/N wasn't. Harry always knew he wanted to get married, have kids, move to a pretty house outside New York (it's been his favorite city ever since he visited when he was 12, then moving all the way across the globe from Manchester to attend Columbia University). And when he met Y/N, he knew she was the one he wanted all that with. But Y/N... she wasn't so sure that was the life she wanted. Having kids was a no at least until she was in her 30's. And even then, she knew she'd have to re consider if that's what she really wanted. She loves kids, she has a couple nieces a nephew's (coming from a big family has it's perks) and she's a preschool teacher. She's good with kids, but she wasn't so sure she'd be a great mother. Not for a specific reason, but she really feels like that's the case. Taking care of someone else's kids versus your own is extremely different. Now... it gets even more complicated when it comes to marriage. She doesn't believe that a piece of paper kept in a legal's office will make any changes in their relationship. It will all stay the same, married or not, so she just doesn't think it's important, nor worth the money. Harry, on the other hand, thinks marrying her will change everything in his life. For the better. He loves her more than he'll ever be able to put into words. And because he can't put it into words, he feels like it's the actions, small and big, that help him communicate his love a bit better. He still remembers the moment he mentioned marriage to her (not for the first time, but definitely the first time he actually thought 'ok i really want to marry her right now') like it happened yesterday. He remembers exactly what it felt like to physically feel his heart shatter inside his chest, and the way he silently cried himself to sleep that night with Y/N in his arms. "Would you ever, uh... consider g-getting married? like, I don't know, if we ever have, like, an actual conversation about it, would you consider it?" He asked her in the middle of their Lord of the Rings marathon. Harry could feel her intense staring at the side of his face. She was quiet for so long, it killed him. He truly wanted the cushions of their pink couch to just suck him inside the furniture piece. He wouldn't dare to turn his face. He couldn't look at her, no. Not to face the rejection of his lifetime. "Uh, I don't think so." She said, and Harry only nodded, thinking the conversation was over

once he felt her move her head to face the television again. "You know how I feel about you and how I feel about marriage. I honestly think it's useless. You don't need a signed paper to know how much I love you, Harry." Her tone was soft, but the words that left her mouth felt like a million knives inside his chest. That conversation sent him spiraling over a thousand thoughts, overthinking their entire relationship and how he now felt like they were getting nowhere with it. He respected her decision, though. That's why he didn't bring it up again. Y/N sensed his mood change that same night. She kept her mouth shut, because she truly didn't know what to say. She didn't understand where he was coming from, or why it was so important to him. At first, she didn't think his mood was affected because of her not wanting to get married, maybe he had something else going on and was struggling to talk about it, but after many sessions with her therapist going over and over their conversations and trying to decipher why everything was so weird between them, she came to the conclusion it might have to do with them not getting married. She just didn't want it. And she didn't know how to make him understand. But she couldn't lose him either. He was her everything. It took her months to be able to sit next to him like she did the night he was watching The Little Mermaid in the living room of their small New York apartment. It's been months since they last shared a movie night, or a date. They've been eating dinner while having awkward small talk about their jobs and friends, going straight to bed after cleaning everything up, each to their side. They haven't touched each other except the occasional greeting peck ever since that night. And it was killing both of them, but neither knew how to approach the other. As she sat down to his right, she saw him tense immediately. It broke her, to see him so on guard around her. Y/N couldn't look away from him, with her body facing him and her head rested on the back of the couch, she wanted to grab his hand so badly, but she didn't know if he'd reject her. The doorbell rang, and he looked at her for the first time that night. His eyebrows had the cutest frown and she wanted to kiss his forehead to make him relax, but of course, she didn't. She sent him a shy smile and stood up, going straight to the door and picking up the cash she left prepared on the little table next to it. She could feel his stare burning holes in her back, which sent chills down her spine. "Thank you so much." Harry heard Y/N say, immediately hearing the door shut. From where he was sitting he didn't have a clear view on who was on the other side of the door. Y/N made her way to their kitchen (to do God knows what, Harry thought) only to appear seconds after with two tubes of ice cream (from his favorite place) and two big spoons. She sat back down next to him with her legs under her, a little closer than moments ago but still out of Harry's reach. She handed him one of the tubes, and Harry immediately noticed it was chocolate chip mint, his favorite, he might add. He looked up at her, who gave him a small shrug of her shoulders and a side smile, and he couldn't help but smile widely at her, his deep dimples on full display. God, I missed those dimples so bad. Y/N thought. But what she didn't know is that Harry was thinking about how much he missed her. Entirely. He hated himself for overthinking every small detail, and for thinking so lowly of their future. But he couldn't help it. "Thanks." He shyly took the ice cream and started eating right away. Not five minutes later, he grabbed her by her thigh and dragged her next to him, only to have her close to his body. And because he missed her. And her body heat. And her addictive smell of clean soap and vanilla. And a lot of other things which would take a lifetime to enumerate. She looked at him from her new spot, and due to the proximity, she had to shift her head slightly up to look at his face. She slid her right arm around his left,

carefully looking at him to see any kind of reaction that might show discomfort, and when she noticed his smirk slowly and barely making an appearance, she relaxed next to him, fitting half of her body under his arm, with his elbow resting on her stomach and her head on his upper arm. Half way through the movie, with their ice cream tubes forgotten on their coffee table, Y/N looked back up to him, and even though she's been doing it every two minutes, Harry knew she wanted to say something this time. He doesn't look at her, though, thinking it might shy her away, but right when he was trying to concentrate back on the film, he heard her say something. It was barely audible, almost like she didn't want him to hear it. Did he imagine it? Maybe he's so deprived from her and her touch and her words that he's finally going insane. Harry looked at her this time, and looking straight at her grey eyes so closely for the first time in two months felt like a thousand fireworks exploding violently on his stomach. "Did you say something?" He looked at her confused, and the look on her eyes is so hard to decipher he thinks she definitely said something she's scared to repeat. "I miss you." Y/N repeated herself, barely louder. But then he knew for sure he didn't imagine it. His Y/N missed him. For so long Harry thought he was losing her, that after distancing himself from her she finally realized she not only didn't want marriage, but a relationship with him at all. But she missed him. And he missed her. "You miss me?" He asked, almost like he didn't believe her, his tone was low and his voice sounded deeper that ever. Y/N nodded, but she felt pathetic. She felt like he didn't miss her like she missed him, maybe he didn't miss her at all. For two months she's been feeling like he wanted out, that this relationship felt like an obligation to him. Harry felt her slowly sliding away from his arms, and that's when he realized he's been so stuck in his head he still hadn't replied. "Don't," he quickly grabbed her by her thigh with his hand closest to her body "please, don't go." She stayed still in her place, looking at him with soft but sad eyes. "I miss you so much, Y/N." Harry turned on his spot so he's facing her, and softly cupped her jaw with his free hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "You have no idea." He whispered, slowly getting her face close to his while closing his eyes. He kissed her forehead so lovingly she literally burst into tears. Y/N's soft sobs alarmed Harry, lifting her head up by his hold on her jaw. "Please, don't cry baby. It breaks me when you cry." Y/N shifted on her place so she was with her body facing the back of the couch, her knees pressed against it, but she tilted her body to the side so she could hug Harry. She slowly draped her arms around his torso, resting her head on his chest. A sigh of relief left Harry's lips, resting his chin on top of her head while he hugged her back. One of his arms was resting low on her back, while the other one rested on her shoulder, his giant hand cupping her head to softly caress her hair. They stayed in that position for a long time. Y/N could feel Harry's heartbeat, and how it slowly picked up speed when she pressed her lips to his chest. And even though he was wearing a shirt, Harry could feel the heat of her lips through it. He pressed his own lips on top of her head, leaving them there for a while, almost like a very long, still kiss, until he felt her head shift underneath his lips. He pulled away just barely to allow her to look up at him, and when she noticed him quickly looking down to her lips, she stretched her neck up to press their lips together. It was a short, very sweet kiss. With fear as an undertaste and nervousness written all over her. She was just scared he was going to leave. When she pulled away from him, she didn't have time to open her eyes as she felt Harry press their lips together again. This second kiss was almost the same as the first one, insecure. It's funny, if you think about it. How similar their

feelings were and how scared they were of messing everything up with a single wrong move. Once Harry pulled away from the kiss he initiated, they locked eyes, yet again. But this time, it was written all over their faces how badly they missed each other, and how much they dreaded to feel the effects each had on one another after so long. The third kiss they shared, it's initiated from both sides, almost as they were able to read each other's minds. Their lips moved in sync, and as Harry softly captured Y/N's bottom lip between his own to slightly suck on it, she put more pressure into it. The kiss slowly started to gain force, passion and need. But she was scared to take the next step. She wanted him to take the full lead, as opposed to what they were used to, just because she didn't want him to feel like he owed her anything. And then, he did take that step. The hand he had holding her jaw moved under her hair to grab her by the neck, while slowly tracing her bottom lip with his tongue, asking for access to her mouth. And once she allowed their tongues to meet, his hold on her lower back got stronger, draping his arm completely around her waist to pull her closer. That action made Y/N's body lift up from how strong he was holding her, and she took this as a sign to move. She straddled him on the couch, sinking (almost on slow motion) to sit on top of his thighs. Harry groaned in frustration. She's too far away, he thought. "Closer." He said in a pleading tone, and Y/N complied immediately. She slid her body up his thighs, and he forced her chest to collide with his. The hand that was holding her neck slowly traced her entire spine, to join his other one on her lower back. Her tongue felt so warm and soft, so inviting. He had always loved the way she kissed him, with so much passion but with a gentleness that was so her. She managed to fully relax in his hold once her hands found their way to his hair, right behind his ears, and he couldn't help but whimper at the feeling of their groins pressing together. This sparked a burning fire inside both of them. A fire that burned so good they'd rather die caught on it, than to never feel it again. Harry slowly slid his hands up and down her sides, all the way from her outer thighs to her side boobs. And when he did it for the second time, on his way up he slid his hands under her shirt instead of continuing their path over it. When his hands stopped at the higher part of their path, he caressed her side boobs with his thumbs, doing the same afterwards right below them, and when she finally grinded down on him, letting a deep groan leave her lips, he cupped her breasts with his hands. But when she pulled away, he dropped his hands automatically.He started eating his brains out thinking he really messed up, he was taking things down a road she didn't want to take yet, which was okay, it's not like he only wanted her body back, but he was scared he made her uncomfortable. Only then, his dick grew incredibly hard when she grabbed the hem of her oversized t-shirt to pull it up and off her body. Her perfectly perky boobs bounced slightly when Y/N dropped her shirt on the floor, resting her arms on her sides. He looked up from the lovely sight of her boobs thinking about how badly he wanted to devour them, only to find her with an uncertain look on her face. And he hated it. He hated the thought of her doubting herself so much. Harry ran his hands up and down her soft stomach, and then slid them up, softly but barely touching her boobs. His destination was somewhere else (for now), and he grabbed Y/N by her neck to pull her close. Their lips met again in the softest kiss they shared that night so far, and Y/N melted in Harry's arms like the forgotten ice cream behind her. He kissed the corner of her lips as he pulled her hair slightly so he could start kissing her jawline, down to her neck, leaving pepper kisses all over her skin. When he reached her collarbone he started sucking and biting (she loved when he bit her) knowing he couldn't do it to her neck

due to her job. She let a moan leave her lips, and when Harry slid one of his hands to grab her by her hip, she grinded down on him again, with more confidence this time. Harry lowered his face a bit more so he could finally reach one of his favorite features of his Y/N, her boobs. He took her left breast in his mouth, sucking on Y/N's nipple, making her whimper and jerk forward, tightening her hold on his brown locks to pull him even closer. He slid the hand that was holding Y/N's hair down so he could pay attention to both nipples at the same time, while using his hand on her hip to keep a steady peace to her grinding. Once she caught up with the slow but rough peace he wanted, he let go of Y/N's hip to grab the nipple he had in his mouth with in his hand, and he pinched both of them at the same time, rolling the hard buds on his fingers, then moving his mouth to the other one. He spent a lot of time paying attention to Y/N's nipples, nibbling, sucking, groping, knowing damn well they were extremely sensitive (she could orgasm just by nipple stimulation if done correctly, but she really wanted him right now). Y/N pulled from his hair enough to let him know she wanted something else, and when he let her nipple fall from his mouth, he looked straight into her eyes. Harry's cheeks were tinted a pretty shade of pink, and Y/N couldn't help but admire the beautiful man under her. He looked at her with such pure eyes, but lustful at the same time. She didn't understand how he could look so innocent but so fucking hot at the same time, it was unfair how angelic he was. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, to let him know she wanted it off. Once Harry complied, throwing his shirt somewhere near Y/N's, he immediately reached for her cream silk shorts, tugging the elastic band down as a silent plea for her to get out of them for him. She stood up from the couch, knowing Harry loved when she undressed herself for him, and still in between his legs holding eye contact, she slowly slid her shorts down her thighs along with her underwear. Harry couldn't keep eye contact for long, though. His eyes were glued to her glistening core that was slowly making an appearance, and he was getting frustrated at how slow she was being. He sat straighter on the couch so he could reach for her, and slid his hands down the front of her thighs, and on their way up he slowly slid them to their insides, getting close to where she wanted him. He slid one of his hands down again, but this time he grabbed her right leg from behind her knee, to pull it up. He made her rest her feet outside his thigh, which was now in between her legs. In this new position he got a clear view of her pretty pussy, all on display for him. "So wet, baby." He whispered, and she couldn't help but return her hold on his hair to pull him closer to her. "All for me?" Harry asked her, looking up to stare at her right in the eyes. When she nodded, he hummed in response. "Let me take care of you, it's been so long. You probably need it so much, don't you?" His voice was so fucking deep and raspy she nodded desperately in response. Y/N couldn't handle much teasing, and she let Harry know by tightening her grip yet again, and forcing his face to be so close she could feel his breathing on her. "Please, Harry." She pleaded. Harry loved teasing her, but he knew it's been a long time, he didn't want to frustrate her much. He finally licked very slowly up her folds, all the way from her opening to her clit, humming when he reached her sensitive bundle of nerves. Y/N let out a long sigh of pleasure, her eyelids fluttering shut. She felt like she could literally come just by that, and when he closed his lips around her clit, she grind her hips against his lips. He started switching between sucking and pressing his tongue on her clit until he started to move it, creating undefined figures with the tip of his tongue. They missed each other so much, so so much. And they both knew sex wouldn't magically fix everything. They knew they needed to work things out. But

sometimes conversation needs a little push, something to remind them why they need to fix things. The magnetic pull they felt towards each other was unbearably strong. They needed each other, in every imaginable way, but at that moment, they needed each other's bodies and emotion, no words needed. Just feel each other close. Harry gave her clit a sweet kiss, and looked up at her while his fingers traveled up and down her folds, until they found their home in her opening. He searched her eyes for approval, and when she whispered a soft 'please' he slowly sank his ring and middle finger, knuckle deep. She whimpered loud at the sudden pressure, and he groaned at the tightness of her hole. He rested his forehead on her navel for a second to let her adjust, and when he felt her grind on his fingers, he held her gaze while lining his mouth with her clit yet again. Harry started to work his fingers in and out of her, sucking on her clit. But what turned him on the most was her slow grinding on his face and fingers, like she was fucking his fingers nstead of his fingers fucking her. Harry used his free arm to slide it under her leg that was up on the couch, and grabbed her ass with a tight grip to pull her even closer. The pleasure was beginning to feel overwhelming, the pressure deep down on her belly begging for release was making her desperate. Y/N's moans and breathy sighs were becoming louder and consistent and the way he could feel her legs slightly shaking gave away how close she was to her release. Harry wanted her to make a mess on his face, so badly. He lowered his head and replaced his fingers with his tongue, not before he moved his fingers one last time to massage her spongy spot at the front of her insides. He fucked her with his tongue as he used his soaked fingers to stimulate her clit, circling in the fast and rough peace he knew she enjoyed so much. Her insides felt like a rocket about to launch, between his moans sending vibrations through her entire body and his fingers stimulating her clit the way she exactly needed, she became a moaning mess. Y/N couldn't comprehend how she was still standing up, even though Harry's arm under her thigh was holding most of her weight up, her knees were about to give up soon. "H-Harry, I'm so close," Y/N spoke as clearly as possible, knowing her panting was messing with her words, "please don't stop." He admired the way her jaw tightened and relaxed, her mouth opening shortly after, making a perfect 'o' with her eyes pressed shut. With one specific movement of Harry's tongue, she finally let go. With her eyes rolling back she let a couple of continuous 'fuck's quickly leave her mouth. Her entire body jolted forwards, bending a bit over him while his mouth was still attached to her core, helping her ride her orgasm, making it last for as long as possible. Y/N pulled Harry away from her with her grip on his hair once it became too much, and looked down at him. Without a second thought she bent down to lock her lips on his, with so much force it threw him back into his original seated position on the couch. "Take your pants off, now." She demanded, but adding an almost inaudible 'please', mostly for her. He happily obliged, taking his boxers down with them, imitating her previous actions. His cock sprung free, and he hissed at the feeling of freedom. Harry was so focused on her he didn't realize how painfully hard he was. He could feel his own heartbeat thundering in his chest with so much force it was almost alarming. He needed her so, so badly. Once his pants and boxers were thrown and forgotten on the floor, she straddled him. Giving him a quick but soft kiss on the lips, she began making her way down his neck, reaching back up again to (what she knew) was his most sensitive spot behind his ear. Y/N sucked a small bruise, and he whimpered. God, Y/N loved those small noises he made. She kissed her favorite beauty mark on the right side where his neck meets his shoulder, and that small action alone made his heart feel like someone was squeezing and

twisting it. He missed those small loving details from her. Y/N kept making her way down his chest, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses all over him, not forgetting to suck and nibble at his nipples. She loved taking care of him. All of him. And the way he enjoyed her playing with his nipples was something he was always scared of admitting, but he knew he didn't have to ask her to do it, because she just knew. She sunk down to her knees, still sucking and licking the skin all over his stomach while caressing his thighs (Oh, those thighs). Y/N finally grabbed his dick and slowly stroked him all the way from his base to the tip, collecting some of the precum leaking from his deep pink, swollen head. He groaned loudly, lifting his hips to fuck her fist once. She took that as a sign to lower her head even more, his cock now in front of her face. "Want my mouth, baby?" She tapped her plump lips with his tip, and when he looked down at her, she moved her closed lips around him, almost like she was using his precum as lipgloss, her hand still slowly moving up and down his length. She got him hypnotized. "Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "Y-yes, please." He heavily sighed. His begging made her drip down her thighs, he knew how much she loved it, and she knew he loved begging too, maybe even more than her. She always took such good care of him. She swirled her tongue around his tip once, then proceeded to lick up his shaft a couple of times like his dick was an ice lolly. Once she finally wrapped her lips around his tip, he sighed in relief, and relaxed his shoulders. Harry's hands grabbed her neck to pull her head down, and she surprised him when she suddenly deep throated him before even working her way there. "Fucking hell, Y/N." He moaned when he felt her humming around him. Harry grabbed her hair making a shift ponytail, to help her get her hair out of the way, and using his grip on it to lift her head, her mouth left his dick, and he smirked at the small pout on her lips. "You are so perfect." She ignored him and tried to lean forward again, which made him smile at how desperate she was. He let her get what she wanted, allowing her lips to wrap around his tip again. She licked up his slit and swirled her tongue around him, and hollowed her cheeks to suck on his tip. She took more of him in her mouth, using her right hand to work on his base and her left to gently cup his balls and play with them. Harry knew he wouldn't last long. It's been a while since they've done anything remotely sexual, and his hand... his hand wasn't her. So even though he could get himself off, nothing in the world would compare to how it felt when it was his Y/N pleasing him. His breathing became irregular as she bobbed her head up and down his length in a steady rhythm, and when she tugged on his balls he knew he had to pull her away right that second, or he would come. And he really wanted to, but not like this. "Baby, please," he tried to pull her head away with a tug on her ponytail, but she didn't oblige. Instead, she looked up at him through her eyelashes, still bobbing her head up and down on him, and that sight alone could make him come in a heartbeat. But he kept it together. "I wanna come inside you, p-please." And that made Y/N pull away, her mouth making a 'pop' sound when she let his dick fall from her lips. She then straddled him, her hands finding their home right behind his ears, grabbing him by his hair, while his made their way around her body, hugging her close. His dick fit perfectly between her lips, and Y/N grinded on him to feel his wet cock slide through her folds, creating the most delicious friction. Harry kissed her passionately, trying to pour everything he felt in the kiss. And Y/N did feel it, because she was trying to do the same. They repeated the action a couple of times until she reached in between them to grab a hold of him, positioning him on her opening. And when she finally sank down on him, they locked gazes. They sat still, connected. They were so close. They felt so close. Harry

nudged her nose with his, softly brushing their lips together. He then noticed a single tear run down her cheek, and reached for her face quickly. Right before it got in her mouth he caught it with his thumb, and she leaned in his touch. They didn't say a word. Just sat still. With Harry caressing her cheek, and Y/N looking straight into his eyes. Y/N leaned forward to capture his top lip between hers, leaving the sweetest kiss, repeating the action with his bottom lip. After, she went for the right corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jawline, his pulse point, behind his ear. And repeated the exact same trail on the left side of his face, finishing with his top and bottom lips, one last time before starting to slowly grind and circle her hips on him. Harry just couldn't stop staring at her. The amount of love and adoration he held in his heart for that woman was beyond words, and actions. And he then understood. He understood that he could live a life without marriage if it meant living it with her. He could handle it. He would get over it. He involuntarily dropped his head back and shut his eyes with so much force, while hissing through gritted teeth when she finally lifted her weight on her knees, sliding up on his dick until he was almost entirely out, only to sink back down roughly, going so deep it made both of them moan loudly at how tight she was. She slid one of her hands around his neck to grab him by his chin, forcing him to look at her. Y/N kissed him again, and this time their kiss was messy and desperate, between crashing teeth and loud moans due to her fucking him with all she got. She let go of Harry's mouth to sit straighter, using his shoulders as support to move faster. This position gave Harry a view he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He could see his cock, so drenched of her arousal, and her pussy taking him so well. The wet sounds leaving their connected centers were magical, so erotic, accompanied with the small whimpers and moans coming out of her perfect lips. Harry thought she looked like a fucking goddess, with her round and perky tits bouncing up and down every time her tight pussy took him entirely. "You're being so good, baby. Letting me fuck you just how I like it." She whispered to him, staring at his heart shaped, swollen lips. The lips she was so addicted to. "You take such good care of me, angel. Always." He replied, looking into her eyes which were still glued to his lips. She licked her own, and moved forward to crash them against his on another messy kiss. They both were so close. Harry couldn't understand how he managed to hold his release for so long, but he was proud of himself. Y/N separated their lips for a moment to make him suck her point and middle finger, which he complied immediately, knowing exactly what she was doing. He then watched her lower her hand between their bodies again, but this time to reach for her clit, where she started to gently rub circles, stimulating herself. Harry started thrusting up with force, to meet her halfway, tightening his grip around her middle. Y/N bit down his shoulder to stifle a loud moan, which only made Harry thrust faster. "Please come for me, Y/N, I wanna feel you come all- all around my cock." He managed to plead between breathy whimpers. And it only took a few more thrusts from him to make her insides explode in the most blissful sensation, like electricity running all the way from her belly to her toes. She stiffens in his hold, her inside walls tightening and clenching so hard it almost sends him out of her, making his balls tighten right before he lets go. She could feel him emptying inside her, his spurts of cum filling her up, leaving both of them exhausted, satisfied and utterly fucked. None of them moved for a while. Y/N's breathing calmed him, almost like a lullaby, and the way Harry was gently stroking her back made goosebumps erupt all over her body. Without any warning, Harry stood up, making Y/N wrap her legs around him, she hissed through the feeling of his dick moving while still

inside her, and she bit down his shoulder again. She didn't question what he was doing, she didn't care. Harry sat her down on a cold surface after turning the lights on, and when she opened her eyes she realized he sat her in their bathroom counter. He put some space between them so he could finally look at her again. The fact that they barely spoke during sex today (when they were usually pretty vocal) made everything so... different. Not in a bad way, though. It made them both enjoy sex as the pure performance of just loving someone. No need of crazy positions, weird kinks or edging each other the way they're used to. Just love. The need to feel connected. The need of physically demonstrating each other's love. How they are each other's entire world. "I'm gonna clean us up, okay?" Harry told her softly, and she only nodded in response. She leaned in to give him a soft kiss, which honestly caught Harry off guard now that the sexual act was over. But made him happy nonetheless. She was scared of him shutting her out again. But he was scared of her getting tired of him. He knew she was a free soul. She wanted so many things, and settling down to start a family like he wanted to wasn't in her near plans, maybe in her plans at all. And he knew that. He understood it, and he respected it. He just thought about how badly he truly wanted that life with her. He was just scared she would let him go. They both looked down and hissed the moment he slid out of her. Harry had the perfect view of their mixed cum dripping down her core, making a mess on the marble counter under her. And Y/N saw his dick twitch at the sight, but decided against commenting on it. Even though it made her slightly smirk. Harry took his time cleaning both of them, and Y/N didn't look away from him. Not even for a second. He lifted her up again and literally sat her down on the toilet so she could pee. They've done this a thousand times, it was normal for them, she wasn't modest about him seeing or listening to her pee. After they brushed their teeth next to each other, stealing curious looks (especially Harry at Y/N's boobs through the mirror), they went to bed together. And for the first time in two months, she rested her head on his chest, with his arms wrapped around her. The only thing she didn't notice was that once Harry knew she was asleep, he couldn't keep it in. He cried himself to sleep that night. But it wasn't any different from what he was used to from the past couple of months. The only difference was that this time, he knew he'd give up his dreams if it meant he could keep her around. & The next morning, Y/N felt something, or someone, shift behind her. She knew it was Harry. His arm was thrown over her waist, resting dangerously close to her boobs (she secretly loved the way Harry seemed obsessed with her boobs) and she could feel his breathing hit the back of her neck. She hugged his arm closer to her body to let him know she was awake, which made Harry shift even closer, cup her left breast and press his pretty pink and warm lips to her neck. "Good morning." She said with a breathy laugh, her morning voice was a sound that drove Harry mad. She sounded way too sexy for her (or his) own good. "Hi." He nuzzled her neck with his nose, "how'd you sleep?" He left another lingering kiss, this time below her ear. "Amazing. Haven't slept this good in a while." She replied honestly, wiggling her body back towards him so their torsos were pressing together. "Mhm, me too." He whispered, tightening his hold around her, his morning wood pressing on her lower back. She could already feel the pool of her arousal in between her legs, and when she arched her back so now his dick was pressing against the curve of her ass, he groaned in her ear. He slowly started to grind himself against her ass, moving down on the bed a bit so he could better his position. And when she grinded back against him, he reached in between them to position himself on her opening. He pushed the tip in, just enough to feel her tight hole around

him. "Can I?" He asked her to make sure they both wanted this. When she sighed deeply in pleasure and murmured a 'yes', he slowly thrusted into her, both moaning a bunch of profanities. They both were huge lovers of morning sex. It increased their moods during their days, helped them relax and carry their days with a carefree feeling. So, he fucked her. Hard. Not even close to how loving they were last night. He woke up with an unbeatable energy, and he wanted to take advantage of it. He fucked her in the position they woke up in. He turned her to her stomach and fucked her while (almost) laying completely on top of her (she loved feeling his weight on her) and he fucked her on all fours, only to end up in their initial position, with her back against his chest on their sides, so he could play with her clit to help her come. That morning they spent it in bed, Y/N made them breakfast, Harry read a book. They both knew they needed to talk, but they wanted to enjoy some time where everything felt normal between them again. So they avoided the topic. But the conversation they owed each other kept being pushed. And for another two months, everything slowly started to feel normal again. Usually, avoiding conversation will lead up to more hurting. But with Y/N and Harry, it ended up becoming a realization point. Harry got in terms with the fact they wanted different things. He decided she was worth anything and everything in the world, because she was his world. But what he didn't know was that Y/N spent those entire two months imagining what a life like the one Harry wanted with her would be like. And after one day, on Harry's 28th birthday, during a small walk they were taking on Central Park, she realized she would do anything in the world to make him the happiest man he could ever be. She kissed him so passionately that day, interrupting their walk. He looked at her with a confused look when she pulled away with the brightest smile on her face. But that smile made him confirm he was willing to give up his dream of getting married. That's why in mid February, Y/N found herself shopping in a very expensive jewelry store. She knew Harry liked that place since his 'H' and 'S' rings were from there. They had an amazing section of handmade rings that she spent a long time going through. She wanted to pick the best one she could find. She found the prettiest, most fine silver ring with a red stone adorning it's top. She knew he would love it. It definitely didn't look like the typical engagement ring, but nothing about Harry was typical. It would match the rest of his rings lovingly, and Y/N knew he would simply love it. Not only because it was a pretty ring, but because it would mean something big for them. Three days later, Y/N came back from work to find Harry sitting on their living room couch watching the forecast. Why? Who the fuck knows. He never watched cable TV. Y/N just stood there for a while, just staring at him. "Hi, love." He greeted her. "Are you alright?" He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. The crease between them made an appearance, even though it was there most of the time. "Hey." She finally moved, dropped her keys on the little bowl sitting on top of the small table in the hallway. "All good, gonna put some comfy clothes on really quick." She lied. She just couldn't wait any longer. Watching him sit there all frustratingly beautiful doing absolutely nothing was fucking annoying, it was so unfair how beautiful he was. She had an entire evening prepared but she just couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to do it now. She dropped her purse on their bed and quickly got rid of her shoes, but didn't change into anything comfier. She just grabbed the small black velvet box from her t-shirt drawer and went back to the living room, sliding it in the back pocket of her jeans so he wouldn't be able to see it. Harry looked at her with a confused look, wondering why she was still in her work clothes walking directly to him when she said she wanted to change. She sunk to her knees in

between his legs, which only made him even more confused. "You sure you're alright?" Harry gently asked her. She just hummed in response and grabbed the remote sitting on the coffee table (moving as little as possible, she didn't want him seeing the small bump on her jeans because she knew he would ask about it), and turned back around. She rested her ass on her ankles, and her arms on top of his thighs. "So..." she started. "So..." Harry repeated, confused. "I love you, so very much." Y/N started and Harry's breath got caught in his throat. He wasn't expecting this at all. "So much, you don't even understand." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. They haven't told they loved each other in so long, scared of the other not saying it back. God only knows why, because it was clear as water they still loved each other with their whole beings. "And I know we both always wanted different things." This is it. Harry thought. She's breaking up with me. "And I know there are some things I believe that you will never understand, and there are some things I- I didn't understand, for a long time." Harry furrowed her eyebrows further at this last part. Now he truly didn't understand what she was trying to say. "For so long I thought I wanted something, you know? Like I was sure I had it all figured out for myself, the life I wanted. But I actually- I was searching for a life that wasn't mine. And I didn't realize that what I already have is everything I could possibly want." Y/N's cheeks were flushed, tears streaming down her face so fast they were drenching his hands that were now pressed against her cheeks, softly caressing them. "I know now, that love is about finding common ground. Meeting each other's needs. And sometimes we have to step out of our comfort zone to do that. And I came to a conclusion." She swallowed the big lump on her throat, and that finally allowed her to let a long breath leave her chest. "I love you more than anything in this world. I hope you know that, and I know I struggle sometimes with letting you know how much I adore and admire all of you. But I promise to do my best today, and for the rest of my life, to make sure you know how loved you are. How much I'm willing to do for you. And this took me a while to understand, but I do now. I understand why you felt like you needed to take that 'next step' with us. And I understand why it'd make you as happy as you always said. So, it'd make me really happy to ask you to," Y/N reached her pocket and heard him gasp when she pulled the box in front of him, revealing a beautiful ring for him, "marry me." Harry was speechless. Truly, ultimately speechless. Not only was the love of his life asking him to marry her, she was saying she truly wanted this. Harry's gaze kept going from the ring back to her eyes. And after a while of no one saying anything, Y/N cleared her throat. "H," she whispered, "Will you marry me?" She asked, the soft tone on her voice and the question he dreamed so many times asking her knocked him back to life. "Yes, yes, Y/N, yes- oh Y/N-" he choked a sob, and the biggest smiles appeared on both their faces. Y/N threw herself to him, wrapping her arms around his neck so tightly. He helped her straddle him so he could wrap his own arms around her. They held each other for a few seconds, both crying the happiest tears they ever let drop, and when she pulled away to put the ring on him, he surprised her by crashing their lips together. They shared their most passionate kiss in the entirety of their relationship, both still crying, smiling, spilling so much love and adoration with each stroke of their tongues. When he pulled away, she finally placed the box in between them again. "Can I put it on you? I know you like to wear your 'H' ring on your ring finger, so we could put it somewhere else, you know? And make it our own thing-" Harry interrupted her giving her a soft peck, "or we could-" another kiss, "I don't know." She finally gave in, pressing her lips harder against him. After another long kiss, he finally told her

where he wanted his ring, and with a last kiss he patted her ass to let her know he needed her to stand up. "Wait here." He pointed at her, and she sat on the couch with a soft 'okay'. He returned moments later with his hand behind his back and a lopsided smirk. He sat in the same position she was for her proposal, in between her legs. Before he said anything, he moved his hands in between them, opening a red velvet box. She gasped like Harry did moments ago when she saw the beautiful ring with a small red stone (yes! Like his own ring) placed on top of a very thin and delicate silver band that was sitting inside the small box. "It was my grandmother's." Harry said in a quiet tone. "She gave it to me before she passed away a couple months after we met, remember?" She slowly nodded, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes. There was so much love written all over his face. "I told her you were it for me. I knew I wanted this with you ever since we met at our university library. She gave it to me in hopes I could... give it to you some time." He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I kept it hidden from you all this time. Didn't want you to find it and make everything weird between us. But I'd really love if you could, um... wear it if you want?" He shyly asked. "It'd be an honor to carry her ring with me, Harry." His face lit up so fast at her response. "Yeah?" He asked, perplexed. "Yeah." Y/N replied with a big smile. "Will you marry me, Y/N?" He asked her this time, and she couldn't help but giggle. "I asked you first." She pecked his lips. "But yes, Harry. I'll marry you." And she kissed him again, and he couldn't help but smile so widely she ended up with her lips against his teeth. After putting his grandmother's ring on her, they shared another night of pure, loving sex. None remember how many times they made each other come, but they did have another important conversation between rounds. "Something else I wanted to tell you..." She said, in between kisses (they loved giving each other soft small pecks all over each other while they were talking). She was straddling him in their bed, his back against the headboard. He didn't want to pull out of her just yet, keeping his cum inside her for as long as possible. "I know you're ready to have kids, like, right now." She said, and he raised his eyebrows playfully at her. "I can tell by your breeding kink, honestly." He let a loud laugh leave his chest, making her smile too. It was honestly hilarious, I mean, look at their position. "I decided I really want to have kids with you." He gasped, "But..." he sunk down in his position, a visible pout on his lips, which she kissed away from him. "Promise me you'll wait for me, until I'm in my 30's" He locked eyes with her. She really wanted this. So much. "Only three more years?!" He asked with so much hope. "Three more years and we can start trying, I promise. I just thought that- that we could get married now, have some time as a married couple, you know? To enjoy ourselves." She shrugged and he couldn't help but smile widely and her, nodding frantically. "That way we are both adapting to each other, you know? Meet halfway our wants." "God, I love you so much." He chose to say, instead of replying straight away. "I'll wait a lifetime to have kids with you if that's what you wanted, just please- decide before you reach menopau-" He couldn't even finish his sentence since she shut him up by putting her hand over his mouth. "Don't even say it. God, I don't wanna be old." She sighed in frustration. "I honestly can't wait to grow old with you." Harry said with such a loving tone, like an enamored teenager, hugging her closer to him. And she couldn't help but smile back at him. Because even though ageing scares her, she's ready to spend the rest of her life with him. "I love you, my angel." Y/N told Harry, before kissing his lips, yet again.

"I love you, my Y/N." Harry whispered to her, keeping her face close to his.

Thank you so much for reading! Have a lovely day <3

-Joey

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry smut #my writing

27 notes · View notes

sirenswhispers · 3 years

Text

The knight and the princess

N/A: Hello. I hope you like what I wrote, I’m sorry is it’s misspelled or something, I apologize deeply, but english is not my first language and I’m trying. Anyway, Fred and George always enlight my day, and today I’m feeling a little sad, so this came to me.

Enjoy it

George Weasley x Fem!Ravenclaw Reader

Warnings: Is bad writing a waning? George Weasley being oblivious

At the age of ten, running through the wide fields of your town, the sun shining high and wearing a paper crown on your head, that’s how you met the Weasley twins.

It was the first time you have ever seen people with red hair, and you thought it was wonderful, if not magical. Such a beautiful and vibrant color that belonged to them. You had to talk to them, ask them what it was like to be a redhead.

“Well, it’s an everyday thing for us.” Said the twin on the right, while the one on the left could only sport a shy smile for you. “So, it feels pretty normal”.

You laughed.

That’s how your friendship began. That day, they played with you for the first time.

Seeing the crown on your head, Fred yelled he wanted to be the king while George settled for being the knight that rescued the princess from the evil ruler. In the game, Fred was and arrogant king who kept you captive, stolen from your own reign, and George was the one who had to rescue you and take you back to your castle.

He never told you how much he enjoyed being able to hold your hand when he saved you from Fred.

However, he did promise you something that day.

Pretending to be the most honorable knight of the reign, such a gentleman, he gave a kiss to your hand, and watching you through his light eyelashes he said-: “Someday, I’ll marry you princess.”

Neither of you were familiar with the ticklish feeling that grew on you from those words.

Being a year older than you, soon the twins left for Hogwarts, and you didn’t have neither an evil king to run from nor a gentle knight to save you. Instead, your most loyal company was your owl, which flew day by day to give your letters to the twins and theirs to you.

They told you how amazing Hogwarts was. They wrote about pranks, and classes, and magic. Mostly, they loved telling you about their pranks on Filch. One day, they told you the story of how they had found a map in his office, and they couldn’t wait to show all the secrets pathways it had.

When summer holidays came that year, you ran all the way to the crooked house in which the twins lived, excited to see your best friends again.

And while Fred engulfed your frame in a tight hug, screaming in your ear about everything related to Hogwarts, George knelt in front of you, a playful grin plastered on his face.

“Hello my princess.”

That ticklish feeling you felt when playing with George came back to you, this time making you feel warm and giddy.

You had never thought much about which house you’d like to be placed in, but since becoming friends with the Weasley twins you knew you wanted to be with them in Gryffindor, maybe as much as they wanted you to be with them.

But when the hat screamed the name of Ravenclaw, and the blue crowd exploded in cheers, you send a sad look in their direction, silently apologizing for something you didn’t have control over. Fred send you a reassuring smile, while George made his best effort to pretend that he wasn’t annoyed with you not being with him.

Even though you wanted to be a Gryffindor, soon you fell in love with the house of the eagle. Blue became your safe color and you became good friends with your roommates, although they weren’t nearly half funny as the twins.

You wished you had more time to spend with them, but the difference of lessons and schedules made it hard to even say a word to them. There were days you didn’t get to see a hair of that vibrant red you liked so much. It made you sad, but you learned to live with it.

It wasn’t until the middle of the school year that you could enjoy a short time with your best friends.

The three of you had come with the plan of spending the day near the lake to see if one of you could spot the giant squid. Throwing all kind of stuff into the lake, trying to get the creature to show even a small piece of him.

He never did, but it was the most fun you have had in your whole year. You were happy to spend time with Fred and George, that was enough.

Years passed, and through differences and struggles, you found a way to maintain your friendship with the twins, to find a way to keep George close to you as you understood that that ticklish feeling he gave you was the love you held for him.

It wasn’t hard to accept your crush on George. It was too normal, too familiar to feel uncomfortable with it. But you didn’t have the guts to tell him about it.

You spent your years watching him grow, seeing you as nothing more than a friend, no matter how many times he’d look for a subtle way to touch you, to call you his princess or just be with you. You were oblivious to his feelings just as much.

Fred had to watch you both dance around your feelings, smiling softly at the tender moments you two shared when you though he wasn’t looking.

When your sixth year came and neither George nor you talked about the elephant in the room, Fred decided that that was enough. He was tired of listening to you two ramble about the other to him.

He had a plan, which had to be cancelled when his father was attacked in the middle of the night and his siblings and him had to go away, leaving you behind.

It felt like an endless night, seated at Gimmauld place without knowing about their dad. The Weasley siblings didn’t have space for another thing in their minds than their family. But you were family to them too.

The next day, when they came back from St. Mungos, George practically ran to you when he saw you waiting for them in the house.

You held him tightly, thanking silently that he was okay, that everything had turned out well at the end. But George was only one of your best friends. Without letting him go, you opened your eyes, looking directly at Fred as you opened one arm for him too. He ran to you and let some tears fall on your shoulder.

You spent Christmas with the Weasleys, making your best efforts to make them smile and ease the sadness. You were no hero; you just wanted the people you loved to have a nice Christmas.

And fairly they did. Mr. Weasley was back by the time you celebrated the holiday, and it felt like home.

You tried not to think much about it when George intertwined your fingers with his while eating, instead, you gave a caress to the back of his hand, accepting his touch.

“Thank you for staying” He told you later that night “Not only for Fred and I, but for everyone”

Your hands were still holding each other’s, and you smiled softly at them. “It was my pleasure my knight” You answered, watching as smile grew on George at the nickname. “Besides, if we were to get married, this is as well my family. I must take care of them too.” You remembered him the words he had said to you many years ago.

“Then, I shall marry you as soon as possible my princess.”

If he could, he would have married you right there in the spot, but this was only an inside joke, born from the innocent promise of a kid. It didn’t mean anything, no matter how much you both wanted it too.

You shuffled closer to him, finding a nest to rest your head in the crook of his neck, while he embraced you tightly.

The both of you were so focused on your feelings that no one noticed Fred’s mischievous smile, nor the light enchantment he was casting over your heads. A beautiful mistletoe growing from his wand, falling delicately on you both.

When the enchantment was finished, Fred laughed to himself. He turned around and walked upstairs, leaving you two behind with only one way to leave the room.

As cozy as you were with George, you knew you had to go back to your room with Ginny. Being as quiet as not to disturb him much, you moved away, or you tried to. Something invisible was stopping you.

You looked around in vain, no one close enough to blame or to ask what was going on, until you looked up and noticed the beautiful plant.

Your throat went dry immediately.

“George” You called him. “George, wake up!” Shaking his body as to waking him up from his sleep.

He smiled fondly when you were the first thing he saw, but your confused expression made him frown. “What’s wrong, love?” He asked, straightening himself from the couch, not going much far. “What’s this?”

You didn’t say anything, only pointing your finger to where the mistletoe was placed. Right above you both.

He understood right away and blushed wildly at the meaning.

“W-we don’t have to… I mean, we kind of have to if we want out but… If you don’t want to…” He stuttered his words.

“I want to!” You said immediately, not flinching nor thinking much about it.

Realization fell upon you when you heard yourself. That was not smooth, and if you could, you would’ve have ran as far away as possible.

George saw you blushing deeply, your eyes watering from embarrassment and how uncomfortable you looked. You said you wanted to, but maybe because you didn’t know how to turn him down.

Was it possible that you despised the idea of kissing him? He had to swallow the knot in his throat and ignore the shattering in his heart.

“I understand you don’t want to kiss someone like me, but can you at least pretend I’m someone else and go through it? I’d like to get out of here.” George explained, his eyes avoiding you.

Did he think you didn’t want to kiss him? Someone like him?

“What do you mean by “someone like me”?” You asked, anger growing in you. “How is someone like you? God, you can be so daft sometimes George Weasley.” The tears of anger falling from you. “Someone like you?! You know what? I’d love to kiss someone like you. I’ve been dreaming about kissing someone like you, I’ve been thinking of how wonderful it would feel to kiss you George.”

His name slipped easily between your lips. So normal, so comfortable that you didn't even noticed it. But he did.

It was your turn to know how deep he adored you.

The gentle knight you had fallen for was gone. The man in front of you was wearing a fierce determination while holding your face in his hands and stamping your lips together.

A pick on the lips would’ve been enough to break the spell, but he kept the kiss going. He was the one leading you, making you open your mouth with a caress from his tongue, his lips moving heavenly against yours.

As much as you had imagined a kiss with him, nothing was as good as a real one. He kissed your whole body in one, giving you the chills, making your legs tremble from the intensity and the passion.

You had to separate when your lungs were burning for air.

“Someone like me, someone who loves you dearly, my princess.”

#Harry Potter #george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x reader #fred weasley #weasley twins

77 notes · View notes

rockofeye · 3 years

Text

It’s Kouzen Season: More about Kouzen Zaka and His Family

As I wrote recently, the month of May is a special time for Kouzen and his family. Kouzen’s fet/feast day is May 1 and May 2, but fetes for Kouzen are held all through the month of May in Haiti and the Dyaspora.

In English, ‘kouzen’ translates to cousin and is a title that we address Kouzen as. He comes with a lot of different names: Azaka Mede, Azaka/Zaka Si, Azaka/Zaka La, Zaka Krib, Zaka Toné, Kouzen Mòn, and many others. He also is very, very close with his wife Kouzin, and there are a whole variety of children in fanmi Kouzen as well.

Kouzen is most well known as the minister of agriculture and work, and this is reflected in how we address him sometimes as Minis/Minister. He is vital to life in Haiti, as it is him that makes the crops grow and ensures there is enough food for the lakou to survive, as well as oversees business and money. It’s often said that even Haitians who don’t serve the lwa always give for Kouzen, because he determines success or failure and can answer hunger.

In some ways, he is also the living memory of Haiti; he carries the weight and knowledge of subsistence farming and how to survive with very little. He is a master medsin fèy (literally ‘leaf medicine’, refers to a practioner of bush medicine), and is often called upon to treat illness especially for folks who can’t afford a Western doctor or even a medsin fèy in the community. He is the reminder of where many Haitians come from and what Haiti used to be: a more rural island where farming and agriculture ruled over most other businesses. It’s not a coincidence that his month of May is also Haitian Heritage Month.

He is often referred to as a lwa travay/work lwa for his indefatigable work ethic. Kouzen knows what it is to be hungry and to suffer, so he is working all the time to make sure he never has to suffer again and that his family and those that he loves don’t suffer either. His fetes are often utilized as means to determine how the next year will go; if Kouzen comes happy and enjoys himself and eats, it will probably be a good year with normal challenges. If he comes angry or upset and refuses his food and the special marketplaces made for him, that’s potentially a forewarning that there are difficulties ahead and a lot of work goes into appeasing Kouzen to change the flow of luck.

Kouzen is also intimately involved in things like immigration. He can help (or harm!) an immigration process, and can be a huge ally in getting those papers moving.

He is always very concerned about being taken advantage of. He comes as a poor peasant, and so folks often underestimate him or try to rip him off when he loans money or offers a good deal. He is incredibly sensitive to this and is paranoid that someone will steal from him. It’s not unusual for him to arrive at his fet and unpack his makout to make sure everything that was there last time he came is still there. He’ll count crumbs. Anything missing will need to be accounted for.

A well-known story from communities I am close to tells of a time when someone did a maryaj lwa in a temple and had brought things from their own table at home to place on the table built for the ceremony. When packing up at the end of the night, someone mistakenly packed the bottle of Kouzen’s liquor that belonged to the temple in the makout of the Kouzen the person married. It went unnoticed until that temple’s fet Kouzen rolled around.

Kouzen arrived and found that his bottle was not in his bag. He asked for it and when it could not be found, sat down on the floor and cried. He refused to let anything else happen until his bottle was located. Some fast thinking and a lot of luck had the person who did the maryaj at the fet and they had a eureka moment and drove home quickly. She lived locally (thank everything) and soon returned to the fet with the bottle. Kouzen had to be consoled and many promises and assurances made because even though the bottle had been returned and it was a genuine error and not a theft, he was so upset that his things had been taken.

He is an expert deal maker that negotiates for his best interests. Something common at most fet Kouzens is that a marketplace will be set up for him. It’s usually a large layout of fruits, vegetables, and maybe some special items for him to look over and offer up for sale. He is very, very shrewd and downright stingy. I’ve seen him refuse to select what he is willing to sell until someone presents him with money, and then he will pick what he thinks is a fair exchange. One evening, I watched someone give him a $20 bill, and he looked for a moment, selected a banan/plantain, and snapped it in half. He gave one half to the person who had paid him $20.

He’ll often walk around holding his chapo/hat and asking for money. Most folks will come prepared with a little cash in their pocket, but pity the person who brings their wallet. Someone had the misfortune of coming to Kouzen’s fet with a significant amount of their rent money in their wallet. Kouzen asked him for money, and when he took out his wallet and opened it, Kouzen reached in and took all the cash. He refused to give it back, and so that person made a nice gift (willing or otherwise) of several hundred dollars.

It’s often said that Kouzen is the one who works and it’s his wife Kouzin who manages the money. Kouzen may want to account for every dollar, but it is Kouzin who keeps track of where it all goes.

Folks always make him out to be greedy, full stop, and he certainly can be, but as Kouzen has known suffering he can also be very generous. I’ve watched him give money to people who were in great need and clearly say that he only needs to be remembered each week and that they don’t need to pay him back. I’ve seen him loan money to people in dire circumstances (but that money better be paid back on the terms he negotiated).

One of the most poignant moments I’ve seen with Kouzen came at his fet when someone who had sacrificed a lot to be there came to talk with him and brought him a little money. They had been struggling with finding work for a little while, and so it was a really hard trip as they did not live locally. Kouzen refused their money and told them to keep it, because he knew they needed it. Some folks thought that was extremely negative coming from Kouzen, but it was a gift. He followed up by giving them a specific lamp recipe to find work, and less than a month later that person had a job.

With all of these very important things on his shoulders and in his makout, you’d think Kouzen would come as something other than a peasant...but he doesn’t. I think that’s really important because it reinforces how close Kouzen and all the lwa are to us; even the ones who are literal royalty.

For me, in addition to all of the above, I also experience Kouzen as a source of a lot of creativity and creative drive. My relationship has developed in such a way that he oversees a lot of my art and art practice. He doesn’t care so much what kind of art or if it even turns out good, but more that I do it and keep my hands moving because that’s good for me. He has definitely been the push to put some paint on paper or beads on fabric when I really don’t want to or don’t have any internal motivation. I will feel him eyeing me and I’ll drag myself to my studio space and do something. Or, if I’m really too busy to make art or there’s some other barrier to me actually sitting down, he’ll push me to resolve it so I have space to get my hands dirty.

In terms of what someone could do for Kouzen without getting into trouble or having him be upset is to do charity in his name. If you can, donate money to a cause that supports providing for folks who are hungry, that supports agriculture that supports self sufficiency in developing countries, or even that aids folks who are homeless or unhoused. If you can donate your time and labor, even better! Kouzen values labor and hard work, and there are plenty of places that need help these days: packing food at food pantries, distributing and delivering meals, volunteering to serve meals in homeless shelters, even volunteering to help vaccine efforts would be looked on favorably by him, as it assures further survival.

I caution folks against preparing food for Kouzen without guidance; even looking at his food in the wrong way or thinking it’s delicious can make him upset and jealous, and he’ll refuse it or spoil it. There’s specific ways to even taste his food for seasoning to make sure it will taste good...don’t risk it!

I hope this is helpful; please let me know if there are questions.

#vodou #haitian vodou #real vodou #fet kouzen #kouzen zaka #azaka mede

11 notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 4 years

Text

NCT′s reaction to their S/O struggling to learn their native language

This is kind of long so I’ve put it behind a cut for everyone - Lilly x

TAEIL

Taeil really loved you, even if most of the time he had to try really, really hard to understand what you are saying. He was always supportive of you, though, and he always did what he could to help you learn Korean, as well as trying to learn your own language himself.

One night, he walked over to your flat after practice, just because he wanted to see you. He knew where you hid your spare key, and let himself in, but you weren’t anywhere to be seen. He checked around for a while until he heard sniffling coming from your room. As soon as he opened your bedroom door and saw you sat on your bed, a Korean book on your lap, he knew why you were crying.

“Are you okay?” As soon as you heard Taeil speak in your language, you looked up, giving him a full look at your tear stained face. “Oh, (Y/N).” His voice was filled with sympathy as he opened his arms, inviting you for a hug.

“Its so hard, Taeil.” You cried, trying to get your words across in Korean.

“I know, baby.”

JOHNNY

He thought that you learning English for him was the most romantic thing anyone could ever do. Even though you two were already able to communicate in Korean, you wanted to impress him by learning his other language. He knew you were doing it, and tried to help as much as he could, but he had to admit he found it so cute when you struggled.

That was until one day he’d found you at the dorms, sat down with Mark practising. For a few moments everything was going well, and Johnny’s heart swelled with pride. That was until you made a mistake, and then another, and then another. Mark could see you were getting upset and tried to console you with an awkward hug, but it didn’t work.

“Baby, its okay.” Johnny spoke from behind you, making you jump and look at him. “Listen, I really appreciate your effort, but if you’re finding it too hard, you don’t have to learn English.” You just nodded at him, taking in what he’d just said.

“I want to Johnny. For you.”

TAEYONG

He’d find it so sweet that you were trying to learn Korean for him. Every time you spoke it, no matter how bad it was, his heart would be so full of love and he’d just listen to whatever you were trying to say. He always hated correcting you because he didn’t want to make you feel upset about getting things wrong, even though you’d told him on multiple occasions that that is the only way you were going to learn.

You were speaking to him his once, concentrating on what you were saying to the point where it was the only thing you were thinking about. The words came out slow so you didn’t make a mistake, but Taeyong listened carefully to everything you said, taking it all in. It reached the point where you knew what you wanted to say, you just couldn’t say it, and you began fumbling over your words. Taeyong watched as tears came to your eyes and you began to pull on your hair in frustration.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter, baby.” His voice was soft and soothing, and his words were said slowly enough for you to understand them. “We can translate it together, okay?” You nodded slowly, still upset with yourself for messing up.

“Thank you.”

YUTA

When he first heard you practising Japanese, he would be so excited. It would be so much easier for the two of you to communicate if you could speak Japanese. He gave you all the help he could by enrolling some of the other members who new small amounts of Japanese to help with your learning when he was busy. When he wasn’t busy, he’d sit with you for hours and help you with everything he could.

It was late at night and you sat on Yuta’s bed, ignoring Taeil’s presence as you read through a Japanese book Yuta bought you. Your eyes scanned over the words, trying to take in as much as you could, but you were finding it difficult. Reading the language was so much harder than speaking it, and the process of figuring it out was taking its toll on you. You had already complained to Taeil multiple times, but when you burst into tears, he had no idea what to do other than call Yuta and ask him to come home and see you.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Yuta ran into his room to find you exactly how Taeil had described. There were wet patches on the book he’d given you from where your tears had dripped onto it, and Yuta’s heart sank. He’d only meant to help, but he’d ended up making you upset. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean for you to feel forced to learn Japanese.” A small laugh left you mouth, surprising your boyfriend.

“It’s okay, Yuta. It’s just really, really hard.”

KUN

When he first learned you were teaching yourself his language, he was concerned. He knew that you liked getting things right first time, and he knew that for someone who didn’t speak Chinese, it was a hard language to learn. That being said, he also knew you were extremely stubborn and so let you get on with it, hoping that it didn’t upset you too much.

It turns out his worst fears came true. When he heard a cry of frustration from his dorm room, he instantly got up from where he was sat with the rest of WAYV and went to see if you were alright. When he found you, you were sat on his bed with your back to the wall, breathing heavily through your nose in frustration. Kun couldn’t deny that he felt bad for you, even though he had warned you that is was a difficult language to learn. Next thing you knew, he was sat next to you, his arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you as tight as he could.

“I don’t want to say I told you so, but I might have to.” You let out a heavy sigh in response, making him laugh, finding you cute. “I know it’s hard, but I can help if you want. I’d suggest Hendery, but I think he was enoguh on his hands with teaching Ten.” The two of you laughed at this.

“I’d rather you teach me anyway.”

DOYOUNG

He felt so honoured to hear you speaking Korean for the first time, so much so that he almost barged in on you and your teacher to express hi love and gratitude. He understood that neither you nor Johnny would appreciate you disrupting the lesson, though, so he just left it and decided to tell you another day, when the two of you were less busy and he had time to properly thank you.

This day didn’t come for a few weeks, due to you having work and him having practice, but the one day that you did manage to see him, you couldn’t hold back your excitement to tell him your not-so-secret secret. When you saw him, you greeted him in Korean, making him grin wider than you think you’d ever seen before, and he began to thank you. You appreciated it very much, but you couldn't help but get confused with how quick he was speaking. All the words began to merge into one making you sigh. You’d clearly not practised enough.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was soft as he scanned you face for any indication of why your mood suddenly dropped. “Was I talking too fast?” You nodded.

“I just need a bit more practice, that’s all.”

TEN

Ten amazed you; he could speak five languages whereas you were struggling to speak two. When he first heard that you were trying to learn Thai for him, he was so thankful, but for you it seemed like something you simply had to do. He spoke your native language so why shouldn’t you speak his? Quite often, thoughts ran through your head, telling you that you were selfish for making him be the one who had to work hard to communicate with you.

When he arrived at your lat one night, he hadn’t expected to see you speaking broken Thai to yourself in the kitchen whilst you cooked. He almost laughed at how cute you were until he heard a shout come from the kitchen. He walked over to you, only to hear you cursing yourself out in your native language. He felt awful, as if in someway he’d been the one to force you to learn Thai.

“I hope you don’t mean everything you just said about yourself, baby.” His voice shocked you, making you jump and spin around to look at him. “You don’t have to learn Thai, you know. It’s not like we can’t already speak to each other.”You smiled at him, understanding what he was saying, but not agreeing with it.

“You speak five languages, Ten. At least let me try to learn this one for you.”

JAEHYUN

He loved helping you learn Korean. Of course he loved it when you spoke in your native language, or English, but there was something about hearing you speak Korean that made him weak at the knees. That was why he was so desperate to help you learn his language, even though you could communicate with each other perfectly fine already.

He was sat with you, going through your Korean book with you, although ‘going through’ is a bit of an overstatement. He chose this time instead to stare at you whilst he listened to the beautiful way you spoke. That was until a sniffle broke him out of his trance. He noticed a tear making it’s way down your cheek and gently wiped it away, shushing you gently.

“I’m never going to get it right, Jae.” you spoke, trying to hold back the sob that was pushing its way up your throat. “I should just give up now.” He shook his head, taking you in his arms and swaying from side to side.

“You can’t give up now. You speaking Korean is my favourite sound of all time, baby.”

WINWIN

In Winwin’s opinion, you were the most adorable person on the planet, especially when you tried to speak Chinese to him. He would always listen carefully to what you were trying to say, trying to decipher the what the words you were saying were supposed to mean. Sometimes he would tease you about it, making the both of you laugh before you got back to work with trying to improve.

What Winwin didn’t know was how upset you get whenever he made a comment about you not being able to speak Chinese very well. You were trying your hardest, and you knew that Winwin knew that, but you couldn’t help but take it to heart. Every time he made a comment, you would immediately get back to work, trying to improve so maybe next time, you wouldn’t feel so bad when you tried to speak to him.

“That was cute, baby, but what did you say?” He laughed slightly, expecting to hear you laugh too, but instead all he got was a sigh and a nod before you tried to head back to your books to practice some more. “What’s wrong?” He asked, making you stop and turn to him, shaking you head. You didn’t want to speak, afraid that the sob you were holding back would decide to break free.

“I’m fine, Winnie.” You spoke, hoping you’d be fine, but instead you felt your eyes getting teary and the sob broke free. Winwin instantly felt bad for teasing you; he didn’t mean to upset you.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N)”

JUNGWOO

The most common sounds in your flat were your cries of frustration when you couldn't pronounce a word correctly, or remember a phrase you’d spent hours going over the day before. Jungwoo was used to this sound, and although he hated it, he knew that you wouldn’t listen to him if he told you that you didn’t need to learn Korean.

The truth was, you didn’t need to learn it. Jungwoo had been learning your language and was already really good at it. That didn’t stop you though. You wanted to prove to yourself that you were capable of learning another language, which was something you’d wanted to do for a while now. The Korean book you were reading was hard to get your head around, though, and you couldn’t help but let out a loud shout of frustration, making Jungwoo run towards the sound, relieved that it was frustration that caused it and not pain.

“If it makes you this angry, you really should stop. I don’t like seeing you so upset, (Y/N)” You just shook your head at him and picked the book up again, trying to read the words in front of you. “Fine, just take a break then. Come and watch a film with me and take your mind of of Korean all together.” He knew you couldn’t resist watching a film with him.

“As long as I get to chose the film.”

LUCAS

When you first tried speaking Chinese to him it was like his brain had stopped working. You sounded so cute the way you were speaking so slowly and trying so hard to say the words correctly. He loved the fact that you wanted to speak to him, but he was kind of upset that he never saw you when you were trying to teach yourself the language. That would be so cute, right?

Lucas could not have been further from the truth. The way you cried over text books at midnight and pulled your hair in frustration was most definitely not cute, and you did not want him to see that side of you. Unfortunately, you didn’t get what you wanted as one day, Lucas showed up to your home unannounced and you parents let him straight in. He walked up to your room, just in time to hear you let out a scream in frustration before you broke down into tears. Obviously your boyfriend panicked, storming into your room only to see you illuminated by the light of your computer screen.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He rushed over to you, trying to get a look at what was on your screen. When he saw that you were on Duolingo having a Chinese lesson, his heart sank. Why would you do something that made you so upset?

“It’s just so hard, Lucas.”

MARK

English was such a strange language to you. Why did read and read not sound the same? Why did red sound the same as read but not read? Mark was no help either. The word ‘like’ was dotted throughout his sentences making everything he said that bit more confusing for you. Every sentence that came out of his mouth required you to use your full concentration to work out what he was saying.

Mark had noticed this though, and tried to make what he was saying simpler for you, but that still wasn’t enough. It got easier for sure, but you still found it so much more difficult when listening to Mark than when you were listening to Jaehyun or Johnny. So much so that one day, you just stopped trying to understand what he was saying half way through his sentence and just broke down. Mark was shocked to say the least; this was completely unexpected.

“Um... baby?” He questioned, his voice sounding unsure. He’d switched back to Korean to make sure you understood what he was saying to you. “Are you okay?” You shook your head, making his sigh and just hold you tightly until you’d calmed down enough to speak to him.

“I just takes so much effort to understand what you’re saying.” He nodded, understanding where you were coming from; he was known for going on tangents.

“I’ll make it easier for you next time, baby.”

XIAOJUN

Xiaojun would tell you immediately that you really didn’t have to learn Chinese for him, even though he knew you’d ignore him. Once he realised that whatever he said wouldn’t stop you, he helped you as much as he could by finding whatever resources he could. He liked sitting with you whilst you were learning, just so he could help when you got things wrong.

He was sat next to you, both of you leaning over the book he’d bought you. Every so often, he’d point to a word and ask you to say it, and each time you’d get it slightly wrong, getting more and more upset with each word he pointed at. He pointed at another one. You tried saying it, knowing it was wrong the moment is left your mouth.

“No. I think you just need to work on your pronunciation a little bit.” You let out a heavy sigh at his words and slammed the book shut. His eyes were filled with worry and you hunched over the shut book with your head in you hands. “Are you okay?” His voice was quiet as he spoke.

“Not really. I’ll try to get better.” You said, voice equally as quiet, but you had a slight edge to yours when you spoke.

“You know it doesn’t matter to me whether you get better or not, don’t you.”

HENDERY

Hendery had no clue you were learning Chinese, but he was suspicious of why you were spending so much time with YangYang. He knew the two of you were close, but he found it strange that you’d always be with him when he came back to the dorms. He trusted you, so he tried not to jump to conclusions, but it was difficult, especially when he saw you coming out of YangYang and Xiaojun’s room one day.

He didn’t want to confront you about it, but he wanted closure and that was the only way to do it. One day he made his way back to the dorms earlier than usual so he could talk to you, only to walk in and see you and YangYang sat at the table speaking in Chinese. Yours obviously needed a lot of work, and suddenly it dawned on Hendery; YangYang was helping you.

“I’m back.” Hendery spoke, a certain cheerful tone in his voice. The sound made you jump. Hendery was never home this early.

“What are you doing home so early?” You spoke in your native language, not being that advanced in Chinese just yet. Hendery wandered over to you and looked at the book in front of you, smiling at how cute your handwriting was when you wrote in Chinese.

“I just wanted to see my girlfriend.”

RENJUN

When you first brought up learning Chinese to Renjun, he was over the moon. He would finally be able to speak to his girlfriend easily. It didn’t take him long, however, to realise that you absolutely hated it. In your eyes, Chinese was the hardest language to grasp, and you’d spent so long going over the same few words and phrases that you were close to the point of giving up.

When Renjun got back from practice, he didn’t expect to see you in tears, talking to Chenle about how hard it was. Chenle was very good at comforting people, so Renjun was glad that you were with him rather than another dreamie. As soon as Chenle noticed your boyfriend by the door, he left, leaving Renjun to comfort you instead.

“I’m sorry if you felt like you had to learn Chinese for me. I didn’t mean to force you into anything.” You shook your head, letting Renjun know that non of this was his fault, you were just struggling. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.” Once again, you shook your head and made eye contact with him.

“I’m fine. I just need a little bit more practice.”

JENO

His brain would just stop whenever he heard you speak Korean. He never thought you could get any more perfect than you already were, but then you started saying sentences in his native language and he died inside. How could you be so cute? Sometimes when you spoke Korean, he wouldn’t properly listen to what was being said, but instead he would listen to how the words sounded in your accent.

He’d even found it cute when you got frustrated about learning Korean. Normally you’d just sulk for a while, not minding when he giggled at you for being moody, but this time was different. You’d been sat for 3 hours straight, trying to get your head around something, and it just wasn’t going in. At first, you let out a few groans of frustration, but as soon as you heard Jeno begin to chuckle at your predicament. You slammed the book shut and left the room, going somewhere to cool off.

“Baby?” you heard the pitter patter of his feet before you heard his voice, making you aware of his presence before he even spoke. You didn’t reply to him, still upset. You heard a sigh from him, and he turned to walk away until he heard you speak.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been working so hard on it and it kind of upset me when you laughed.” Jeno nodded, completely understanding what you were saying. Maybe he had been a bit insensitive.

“You don’t need to apologise, baby. I should be the one saying sorry.”

HAECHAN

He would be so loud about the fact that you were learning to speak Korean Soon enough every single member would know about how hard you were trying to be able to speak Korean, and some of the multilingual members would even offer to help. Every time, you would decline, feeling bad about taking up their time. Truth be told, you did need help, but you didn’t want to put unnecessary pressure on your friends.

One day, Haechan walked over to your house to pester you again about accepting his members’ help with learning his language, but as soon as he walked into your room and saw you crying at your desk, all his previous intentions went out of the window. His main priority now was comforting you, which he was incredibly good at.

“You okay?” His hand stroked your hair as he looked down at you, his eyes and voice soft. “Is it about learning Korean?” You nodded your head, knowing what was going to come next.

“I think you know what I’m going to say, but I really do think you should accept some help from my members. I don’t like seeing my girlfriend upset.”

JAEMIN

Learning a new language was hard, he knew that from trying to learn your language, but you seemed to be doing really well. You were improving by the day, and Jaemin assumed that soon you’d be almost fluent. However, he couldn’t work out how you found the time. You had school and work, and you spent every night studying until 8pm. He was confused to say the least.

One evening, he thought he would surprise you. It was 9pm, so he knew you weren’t studying and were probably lay in bed watching something you found on Netflix. When he reached the top of the stairs, though, he didn’t hear any sounds from your laptop, but instead heard a pencil scribbling away. That was strange; it was way after you’d stopped studying. He entered your room to see you sat at your desk with a Korean book on the table in front of you. Your eyes were burning as you tried to stop the tears from falling, but it wasn’t successful, as one landed on the page in front of you.

“I thought you’d stopped studying, (Y/N)?” You looked up at him and shook your head.

“I have. I’m studying Korean now.” You tried to hide the emotion in your voice and you turned back to the book to try and hide the fact that you were once again on the verge of tears.

“Right, you’re having a break tonight. You’re going to burn out if you don’t.”

YANGYANG

It was almost YangYang’s birthday, and you’d come up with the perfect present; you were going to finally show him your German skills, not that you had very many to show. You’d been learning behind his back for the past year or so, and you’d improved a little, but you had to admit, not as much as you would have liked to. You knew that learning languages took a long time, but you were taking lot longer than you should have been.

It reached the day of his birthday, and everything that you’d learned had for some reason gone missing from your head, making you begin to panic. You just wanted to make him happy, but now it seemed like you couldn’t give him his surprise like you’d wanted to. It was too late to turn back, though. You’d already rang the doorbell and were stood waiting for someone to answer the door. When they did, it was Kun, who immediately smiled when he spotted you. He let you in and you made your way to YangYang’s room, knocking on the door before making your way in.

“There she is!” YangYang beamed, taking you in his arms as soon as you stepped through the door. Your heart was beating so fast from nerves, that even YangYang could feel it through the hug. “What’s wrong?” he spoke, concerned about you.

“It’s nothing. I wanted to show you that I was learning German today as a present, but I can’t remember anything.” YangYang smiled, pulling you closer and kissing your head.

“That would have been great, but you know what would be even better?” You shook your head. “Me being your teacher.”

CHENLE

Chenle would be the most supportive person on the planet, mainly because of how hard he found it to learn Korean. Renjun was so much help for him, and so he is going to help you as much as he possibly can. He’d buy you books, pay for a tutor, give you feedback on your pronunciation. He just wants to help you like the amazingly sweet boyfriend that he is.

You were unhappy with your progress though, and so was your tutor. You felt so bad for Chenle, who refused to let you pay for your own tutor; he’d put so much money into helping you and you felt like you were just taking his money for the sake of it. That’s when you decided to talk to Chenle about how much you were struggling. You made your way to the dreamies’ dorm and sat down with Chenle, voicing your concerns. He was understanding and sweet, but he refused to take no for an answer.

“You know I’ll support you no matter what, (Y/N). It doesn’t matter to me how long it takes for you to learn Chinese. As long as you want to learn it, I’ll help you in every way.” You hugged him tight, refusing to let go. You loved him with all your heart.

“Thank you, Chenle. I’ll try my hardest.”

JISUNG

He knew you were learning Korean, but he was chill about it. He left you to get on with it because he knew he wouldn’t be much help at all. What he didn’t know was that you would have loved for him to help; you were finding it really hard to get your head around some of the concepts of the language. You spent hours every day locked away in your room, your head hanging over your Korean books, trying to force it go in.

Jisung was over at your house, lay on your bed as you sat and tried to pronounce a word. Jisung smiled every time you said it, finding it so sweet, but he wasn’t aware that you were on the verge of tears. You were never very good at holding in your tears, so they came pretty quickly, running down your cheeks and dropping onto the book in front of you. Jisung could see your shoulders sink, but he didn't think much of it until he heard you sniffle.

“Oh my god, (Y/N), whats wrong?” He rushed over to you, taking your face in his hands. He watched as the tears dribbled down your face. He glanced over to the book, realising that you were finding it hard.

“I’m just finding it difficult.” You spoke, our voice barely above a whisper. You afraid that if you spoke any louder, you’d have a full on meltdown. “Can you help?” Jisung nodded, a smile on his face.

“If that book ever makes you cry again, I’m burning it and you can’t stop me.”

339 notes · View notes

padfootagain · 3 years

Text

A Very Rose Mistake (VI)

Part 6: How You Almost Did

Here I come with a new chapter for this series!!! I'm sorry the posting schedule is a little bit more hectic than usual, but depression is kicking my arse pretty badly, and it's harder to write then. BUT here is a new chapter!! Things are… evolving. A lot of this chapter is the flashback, because it's an important scene.

I hope you like this chapter, and don't forget to leave a little comment if you read, cause that really helps motivating me into writing, and I need that extra piece of motivation now more than ever, sadly.

No warnings here, it's pretty fluffy :)

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count : 4283

Holmes Chapel, 2010

"So… do you have everything?"

"Yeah, it's all ready."

"Did you take your inhaler? I won't be here to save your distracted arse this time."

"I do have it. Thanks, Lambkin."

"Fuck you, Chuckaboo."

"Oi!"

You laughed as you helped Harry carry his suitcase down the stairs. He was leaving to take a chance at X-factor. It was already crazy that he got through the first round of auditions, but now he had to travel across the country to start the first steps of the show.

Whenever the two of you talked about it though, he insisted that he would be back in the blink of an eye. He hadn't even expected to successfully get two 'yes' from the jury during the auditions, and now his purpose was to learn as much as he could from the experience, and enjoy it while it would last. It was a crazy adventure, but one he was certain would simply end in a flicker. He had asked you to get all the lessons for him that he would miss, so he wouldn't struggle too much when he would come back in a couple of weeks.

And to be honest, you thought the same about the whole thing as he did. It wasn't that you didn't believe in him enough, because you did. If there was one person that you trusted and believed in on this Earth, it was Harry. And you had heard him sing before, you knew he had talent, even if it was a little raw for now. You did not doubt though that he was full of potential, and with some hard work, could definitely stand a chance. But he was also a sixteen-year-old boy, from this little English town you called home where nothing happened, and he was your best friend. You had known each other since you were five. It was almost impossible for you to imagine him as anything else but the goofy teenager he was when around you. So, a professional singer? It was improbable up to a hilarious degree.

Still, you were nervous and sad at the sight of Harry checking the content of his backpack one last time, checking if he had everything. He would be leaving early the next morning. It was the last evening you would share before he was off for an unknown period of time, and even if you both assumed it would be but a short one, it was still scary to think about how you didn't know when you would next see him. Maybe it was simply because it had never happened before, you guessed so, at the very least. Anything unknown was scary, after all.

Harry was trying to keep a calm façade, but you were far from a fool, and knew perfectly well that he was, in reality, terrified about the whole endeavour. After all, he was going to be leaving his home for some time. Any sixteen-year-old would find the mere thought terrifying.

After you brought all of his bags to the hallway by the front door, ready for his journey the next day, you settled for a while in the kitchen, where you prepared some toasts and sandwiches for your dinner. Anne was working late, and would not be coming home for another hour or so, which meant that Harry and you could enjoy some quality time together for a little longer.

You both laughed as you almost burned down the kitchen preparing the toasts, both of you pretending for that time that everything was normal. It was almost as if you had both silently came to the agreement that for that evening, while the two of you were alone cooking in the kitchen, his journey of the next day was but a reverie, and instead, the next morning would simply be the beginning of a normal day.

You talked about video games, and TV shows you found funny but stupid, and school. You couldn't really describe why talking with Harry was so different to talking to anyone else. It was just so easy. Fluent. It came without an effort, and it seemed that the two of you could have been left there for hours on your own and would still have found some things to say to each other, some new topic to discuss. You had always attributed that trait of his to the fact that he was your best friend, and had been so for such a long time. Knowing him so well meant that there wasn't much you didn't dare to do in front of him. You weren't afraid to be yourself when he was around, never had been.

And for a long time, you reckoned that it was simply explained by you seeing a brother in him. A twin of sort that you had never had. But as puberty started its work, and your mind embraced new possible explanations and understood new kinds of relationships, you wondered if a brotherly bond was really what united so closely the two of you.

Because you weren't sure that it was all there was to it, really. Maybe, it wasn't the reason why you didn't like his girlfriends. Maybe it wasn't why you were so sad to say goodbye tonight. Maybe it wasn't why you trusted him so blindly all the time. Why you always forgave him.

But you were young, and you weren't quite sure yet of what you felt meant. Maybe you were just trying to figure yourself out, and were making a fuss of nothing.

Or maybe, Harry meant something else to you than a brother.

All you knew was that when the conversation finally quietened, slowing down to reach a full stop that filled the room with silence, his departure on the tip of both your tongues once more, you were sad and afraid like you had never been before.

"We should wash the dishes," Harry threw one last attempt at avoiding the floating threat hovering in the comfortable silence. One last ammunition used to keep his fear at bay for a little longer, and instead, bathe in your presence for a little longer.

He couldn't really explain how he felt about you. It wasn't something he had felt with the few girls he had been with before, and it wasn't either a level of intimacy that he had ever reached with any other of his friends. You were in that special box in his heart, that had only your name on it, and no one else's. More than a friend, but not a girlfriend either. Somehow, you were more than that to him. You were family to him. But he didn't see you like a sister either. Maybe he had for a while, but it slowly yet irremediably changed along the past few years. He wasn't sure to understand what that box your name lived in inside his heart was, but he was okay with that, for now. Sixteen was young after all, to understand matters of the heart.

For now, he simply wanted to be with you whenever he could, and that was enough.

He started to wash the plates in the sink, while you grabbed a clothe and started to dry the cutlery.

You didn't notice the glances he threw towards your direction, and he didn't notice the way your eyes lingered on his features as if to carve them into memory either. It was an unspoken, halfway type of zone you had settled in. It was hard to escape it now.

"Are you worried about tomorrow?" you asked, breaking the long silence that had settled in the kitchen, broken only by the distant murmur of cars passing by the street, and the water running from the faucet.

Had it been anyone else, Harry would have probably lied and pretended that he was perfectly fine.

But then, it was you, standing in that special little box of yours, and despite how fragile it made him feel, he answered you anyway.

"Yeah… I'm a bit nervous."

"I mean, I reckon it's normal to be so."

"Yeah… I mean, it's all new and I don't really know what will happen. And… huh… I think… It's gonna be hard to be away, I guess. I think I'll miss my mum a lot. And… and you too."

You stared at him for a moment, yellow photons from the lamp above your heads getting caught in the wild curls of his hair. He seemed a little lost. He was just a boy, after all.

You nudged him, trying to make him feel better.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm sure you'll be alright. Besides, you'll have fun, and make new friends over there, I'm sure. You will barely notice I'm not here."

He frowned, looking hurt at your statement, and you wondered why.

"You really think I would forget about you?" he asked, his voice a little too low, a little too deep, a little too fragile.

You shook your head, but he could see in the way you fidgeted with the cloth that you were not completely earnest with him.

"Of course not. I know you won't."

He turned off the water, the silence becoming deafening while he took his time to turn fully towards you, drying his hands on his worn-out jeans. Meanwhile, you were drying a plate, or at least, faking to do so, for there was no more water to sweep away across the porcelain. But it was easier to rub the white plate than to look at your friend at that moment.

"Hey, look at me."

When you stubbornly kept your eyes on this plate you kept on drying, Harry gently rested his hands upon yours, successfully interrupting your movements.

"Y/N. Please."

You let him take the plate away from you, putting it away before taking your chin in between his fingers to force you to turn to him. He wasn't surprised to find withheld tears glimmering in your eyes, yet the sight broke his heart all the same.

He couldn't see you cry. Never had been able to. He would have done anything to make you smile, and it had been so since the two of you were five.

He gave you a tender, reassuring smile.

"You're stupid sometimes, you know that?"

You frowned at that, taken aback. If anything, you weren't expecting that kind of response from him. But it wasn't all that he had to say.

"I could never forget you, you dummy. You're my best friend. You're… You're special to me. And whatever happens, I will never ever forget about you. Okay?"

You looked down at your feet, fleeing his green eyes that seemed to pierce right through all the pieces of armoury you had built around your soul. You nodded, slowly, your throat too tight to speak. But you weren't so worried anymore.

"You're not gonna forget about me either, are you?" he asked, his voice fragile again too.

You smiled one more time, looking up to find yourself trapped in the green hues of his irises.

"Now, you're being the silly one. Of course not. Besides, you'll be back in two weeks, tops. You're not half as charming as you think you are."

"Aren't I?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous way, making you laugh.

"No, you're not."

As you both fell quiet again, you suddenly seemed hype-aware of Harry's hold on your chin, that hadn't wavered throughout your exchange. He brushed his thumb across the soft skin, making you gasp.

And all of a sudden, there was a shift between the two of you. The air across the room seemed to be filled with electricity, growing denser, and maybe it was why both of you found it harder to breathe. Or maybe it was the way you both lost yourselves in each other's eyes in a way you never had before.

You caught him as he glimpsed down at your lips. You noticed the way his eyes travelled across your mouth, as if he was hesitating, weighing his options. You saw his Adam's apple jumping as he struggled to swallow the lump that was growing in his throat. When his gaze flickered back to meet yours though, both of you could barely breathe at all, your two hearts stomping under your ribcages.

His hold on your chin had become more of a caress than a hold: gentle, brushing of fingertips against your skin, giving you back complete freedom of your movements. Yet, you didn't want to move away at all.

And when Harry leaned closer to you, it was your turn to glance at his lips, watching the two lines barely parted fall towards yours. And when you realized what he was doing, you stopped breathing altogether.

Because Harry was about to kiss you.

But then he stopped, merely an inch or so away, his breath fanning and brushing your lips, warm and staggering, uncertain through uneven pants. And he was absolutely sure that he had never felt anything as intense as this moment in his entire short life.

But he stopped, because it was you he was about to kiss. His best friend. And even if you lived in that special box in his heart, even if, to him, maybe it meant that you were more than just a friend to him, you were way too important for him to take any uncalculated risk. So instead of closing the gap between your mouths, he stood still, in his kitchen under the yellowish light of the lamp, fingers still a little wet from washing the dishes, or maybe it was more because of how nervous he was. He needed to give you a chance to step back and stop him.

So, he blinked a few times, staring at your eyes with a silent question in his green irises. To which you answered by leaning closer to him too.

So… you didn't want him to stop?

He moved his hand up your jaw, cupping your cheek instead, closing his eyes and focusing on how warm the air leaving your lungs was against his face, breaths mingling together halfway between your parted lips.

And you were about to meet when the front door of Harry's house loudly opened.

"Harry! Y/N! I'm home!"

Both you and Harry jumped away from each other as Anne was ruffling in the hallway, probably taking off her shoes and coat.

In the kitchen, you both shied away. The moment had passed, broken, and you both knew that there wasn't going to be any other moment for you to be alone before Harry would leave.

Harry looked over his shoulder, and before his mother would appear, he hurried to take your hand in his.

He seemed frightened, and a little frantic. A little desperate too, still struggling to catch his breath.

"We'll talk about it when I come back."

You stared at him intensely, and he took your other hand in his as well.

"It's a promise. We'll talk about what just happened when I come back, okay? Cause… that… that was a thing. Right?"

"Yeah… yeah I think it… was a thing."

He struggled to swallow, stuttering a little as he let down his armour before you completely, and with a shaky voice asked one more question.

"Will you… would you wait for me?"

You gave him a reassuring smile, and to his hands you gifted a tender squeeze.

"I will. I'll wait for you."

II.

Loch Lomond, 2020

Harry was pretty when he slept.

Not that he was ever not pretty, you reckoned that Harry was a very handsome man in general. But there was something soft in the way he looked when he slept, peaceful, that you really loved.

Maybe it was his parted lips, or the soft sound of air leaving his lungs in a perfectly regular rhythm. The occasional little crease between his brow that appeared and vanished at the rhythm of his dreams. Or the way his eyelids trembled a little sometimes before growing still again, eyelashes perfectly bent in the most graceful curve barely disturbed by the movement at all. Or perhaps it was how messy his hair became as they rubbed against the pillow.

But you could hardly deny that the main reason was that Harry always grabbed whatever he could during the night and held onto it for dear life throughout the rest of the night. To ensure that he would not disturb your sleep – and knowing Harry, probably also because he was worried it would make you uncomfortable – he had hold onto a pillow for the first evening, making sure that he would not end up curled around you instead. And it had worked, the two of you waking up peacefully on each side of the bed.

But not today.

This morning, you opened your eyes to find that the reason why you felt so warm and snuggled up was because you were safely tucked in Harry's side, his arms wrapped around you and his nose almost brushing yours, face resting at the edge of his own pillow, legs tangled in a mess of limbs. A quick glance across the bed revealed that the pillow he was hugging when you went to bed the previous night was nowhere to be seen. You guessed that Harry had dropped it to the floor during the night, turned around, probably wearing across his features a grumpy little pout as he tossed and turned while still mostly asleep, until he found your form sleeping soundly on the other side of the mattress. And then, well, the rest was easy to guess given your current position.

There was a little voice in your head that kept on telling you to pull away. That you should have felt uneasy with your current position. And had it been anyone but Harry, yes, you guessed that you would have been uncomfortable right now and would have freed yourself with little regard for the other person's sleep. But the thing was, it was Harry.

It was Harry all cuddled up around you, holding you close, and you didn't feel uncomfortable at all. You felt safe and warm and taken care of. Because it was Harry holding you. Harry who had always been here for you, since your early childhood. You felt so safe with him all the time after all, this morning waking up in his arms wasn't different. It was safe, the same way you always felt whenever he was around.

It was barely dawn and the orange light of the rising sun bathed the room a colourful hue. It was still quite dark, despite the deep orange shades of the beams licking at the walls. Particles of light were caught in his wild curls, brown tainted with orange, and you spent long minutes studying the changes in the colours, the way the light made his cheeks look a little pinker, the way it seemed to hug his jawline, and was left stranded across his eyelashes and the stubble that coloured his skin. It took all of your strengths to refrain yourself from running your fingers across the swallows tattooed on his upper chest, but you were too scared of waking him if you did so. You couldn't help but stare at them though, the black ink rising and falling with his regular breathing. He was still wearing his cross necklace around his neck, the gold reflecting the morning light. It wasn't the first time that you saw him with a bare chest, and it wasn't the first either that he hugged you without a shirt on. But it didn't stop you from shivering in the best way when he moved his arm around you ever so slightly, his bare skin sliding across your own bare arms. Because you were trapped in his arms, your arms folded between your two bodies, your hands were pressed against your chest. But now that your eyes were settling on his skin again, a little tanned and looking so invitingly smooth, you really couldn't summon enough willpower to not reach across the inches-long gap between your hand and his chest, and you gently rested your palm against his heart. You could feel the organ beating under his skin and muscles, little rhythm pulsing through your skin. Regular, soothing, safe. Just like Harry.

After a long while staring at him, with a smile across your lips you hadn't even noticed, your gaze moved across the room to settle upon the window instead, and you watched the quiet waters of the loch as it reflected the bright gold and orange of the sky. With the trees alongside the shores also covered with autumnal hues, it looked as if someone had painted the entire scene in shades of ochre. It was peaceful, a landscape still barely awake, that only the wind carrying freshly fallen skeleton leaves seemed able to disturb.

You didn't know for how long you had remained like this, staring at the landscape outside, safely tugged in Harry's warmth, when he finally started to stir and wake up. You turned to him again just in time to catch his eyes fluttering open, green irises appearing in the early morning light that fell upon your face instantly, as if they had been looking for you as a reflex. A bright smile appeared on his lips at the sight of your dishevelled and freshly awaken form in his arms.

"Morning," he mumbled, sleep making his voice deeper than usual, raw and warm.

"Good morning," you answered with a smile of your own.

He snuggled closer to you, until you were tugged under his chin, so he could bury his face in your hair, inhaling the addicting fragrance of your shampoo.

You were so warm against him. He could feel your hand pressed to his chest, and the mere touch was enough to set his whole body on fire. Your smell was reassuring, so reassuring, like the scent of something familiar, the scent of an old memory. And he felt so safe like this, with you in his arms. Invincible. Yes, that was the word. He felt invincible, like nothing bad could ever happen while he held you as close as he did now.

Why hadn't he done that sooner? It felt amazing.

His eyes snapped open when the thought finished to form in his mind.

Why hadn't he done that sooner? Because you were just a friend.

He quickly unwrapped his arms from around you, pushing himself away and in his haste to put distance between your two bodies, falling from the bed and onto the wooden floor and the pillow that had grown cold after he had lost it during the night. He let out a loud 'ouch', and when you peered beyond the bed, Harry was rubbing his arse cheek through his sweatpants. And you couldn't stop yourself from laughing at him.

"You alright down there?"

"Oh shut up!" he fought back, looking all pouty and grumpy, and you found the sight so ridiculously adorable that you had to laugh to stop yourself from melting instead.

"Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?" you asked a little more seriously.

"My butt and my ego will be equally bruised by the incident for a few days," he replied, but he couldn't refrain a smile of his own as the situation was rather hilarious.

You laughed at that, but grew silent again when he finally looked up at you. He seemed uncomfortable, running a hand in his hair. Embarrassed, even. And for some reason, it hurt to see him react like this.

"I… I'm sorry."

"About?"

"About… how we woke up," he apologized, stumbling on his words and stuttering a little. "I… I must have lost my pillow during the night."

"I had figured that much."

"I… I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You didn't. It's okay."

He gave you a hopeful stare.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," you nodded. "I mean, you were just hugging me, not much to say about it."

Nothing much to say about it? Then why was your heart still beating this fast just thinking about it then?

"I… you sure you're okay?"

You rolled your eyes at him.

"Yes, I'm sure. It's fine."

"Oh. Okay."

Harry had to admit that he was surprised that you were taking this so… well. As if it didn't have any meaning at all. When he had woken up cuddling you, holding you as close as he could.

As he finally stumbled back to his feet, he had to admit that he was not just surprised, he was also a little disappointed. Because he didn't take the situation as lightly as you did, and that was because…

He pushed the thought away before it could finish forming in his mind. He didn't need to think about this at all. It was all something from the past. He was over it. Had been for a while. No need to think of it again.

"Right. Well, still, I'm sorry."

"You were asleep, it's alright."

"You should have woken me up."

"I… I was barely awake myself, hadn't really processed what was going on yet."

It was a lie, but he seemed to buy it.

"Oh… okay."

"Besides, I've noticed by now how clingy you can be!" you joked, making him chuckle.

"Right… uhm… I'm gonna go take a shower, and then we can go grab a bite for breakfast, yeah?"

"Sure, you can take the shower first."

"Thanks."

And indeed, Harry was grateful that you granted him access to the bathroom first. Because he could hide how much he was blushing in there.

***********************************************************

Taglist : @emcchi @fishstick-knows @eldahae @just-damn-bored @retrouvailessx @marvelstudies2020 @boxofteenageideas@ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony@madamrogers @cronias13 @stylesfics-xx @mellamolayla @mariaenchanted

@swtxel

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #event #4700 followers #prompts #imagine #series #harry styles series

43 notes · View notes