#also oh air i. opened this while at the restaurant with parents and it almost sent me into a coughing fit. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunsents · 3 years ago

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Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight. This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.” he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what��s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

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tyongxnct · 4 years ago

Text

𝐅𝐔 - 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐡

pairing: Johnny x reader

summary: You wanted to be all alone with your boyfriend on New Year’s Eve, but after a heavy fight, he left you before the clock struck midnight. You were all alone the whole night while he was with another woman. The woman he told you not to worry about. One day, after forgiving him for leaving you alone, you find out that she was texting him, that he cheated and you breakup. But breaking up with the love of your life was hard and you couldn’t stop yourself from loving him.

song: FU - Miley Cyrus

genre: established relationship, angst, smut

warnings: smut, cheating, swearing, alcohol consumption

word count: 5.7k

A/N: first of all thank you so so much for 900 followers!! You have no idea how happy and thankful I am. I hope you enjoy this!! 💖💖💖

taglist: @aesthetichrj @bvbyxuxi @bitchenderyy @chitaphrrrr

this is fiction!

Oh, you broke my heart I told you I was weak for love But then you went around And did what you wanted to do And now I'm crying, crying

“Don’t you fucking get it Y/n?! There’s nothing going on between me and her! Why are you always so fucking insecure?!”

“Are you being serious right now? I just-“

“Just what Y/n?! Huh?! Do you always have to ruin everything?! One night, one fucking night and you can’t keep your mouth shut! You’re so damn frustrating. It’s fucking New Year’s Eve and you just have to annoy the shit out of me!” Johnny yelled at you. He closed his eyes to calm down, but all he saw was red and he needed to go.

“But Johnny-“

“No! I don’t wanna hear anything. I’m leaving. Happy fucking new year.” He cut you off, he didn’t care about your feelings at that moment. All he wanted was fresh air and be far, far away from you.

“No please don’t go I’m sorry-“

You tried to apologize, but Johnny simply didn’t care.

It was almost midnight and you didn’t want the night to end like this. All you wanted was spend the night with Johnny. Just you, Johnny, wine, and a great dinner. This was your third New Year’s Eve with Johnny and your first New Year’s Eve alone with him. You had spent the last two years with your mutual friends at some party, but this year you wanted to be just with him.

Things escalated quickly.

First he was distracted, he was on his phone the whole dinner and then, while watching a movie he chose, he was also on his phone. Then, he got a phone call and was in your shared bedroom talking for almost an hour.

Your special night together suddenly turned to a shit night for you.

You were suspicious about his behavior. Always on his phone, always talking to someone and whenever you asked whom he was talking to he answered with a simple ‘a friend’. But you knew exactly who that friend was and when you had enough, you confronted him about her.

Johnny left your apartment, he was slightly tipsy, the wine you drank was in his system and he knew that his next decision was stupid, so dumb and would destroy everything you had built, but in that moment, he didn’t care.

So his next move was to call her and ask her if she was free. It was New Year’s Eve, she was probably at some party or with her family, but she quickly dropped her friends and the party she was at to meet Johnny at her apartment.

The clock struck midnight and instead of kissing you, Johnny’s lips were on her lips and you were finishing the second bottle of wine. You sat on the balcony and watched the firework with tears rolling down your cheeks whereas your boyfriend was kissing another girl, pleasing another girl, and breaking his promises.

That night, you celebrated New Year’s Eve with tears in your eyes and pain in your heart.

Johnny woke up in the middle of the night.

He looked to his left to see you sleeping next to him but when he saw someone else next to him in bed, he remembered what he did. He remembered how he told you that there was nothing going between her and him and then he remembered how he fucked her, how he cheated on you.

“Fuck.” He mumbled as he looked at the clock on the wall.

03:27

He didn’t kiss you on midnight. He wasn’t with you, you weren’t in his arms, someone else was.

Johnny left the apartment without thinking and rushed home to you. Johnny couldn’t describe how much regret he felt, how guilty he felt. He wanted to cry, he wanted to delete last night from his memory.

He unlocked the door and it was dark inside of the apartment, you were probably sleeping. Johnny’s heart was beating against his chest, he didn’t know what to do. Should he tell you what happened last night? Should he tell you he cheated and broke his promises?

Johnny saw you curled up on the couch, your eyes closed but swollen, you wear wearing his hoodie and hugging the pillow tightly. The balcony was still open and the winter breeze entered you apartment. Your body was cold, hands formed to fists and brows furrowed. Two empty bottles of wine on the coffee table and one used wine glass.

Johnny got on his knees and pressed little kisses on your forehead, your cheeks and nose. He wanted to kiss your lips so bad, but his lips still tasted like the other woman he had been with that night.

“B-Baby?” he whispered softly, “Baby, come on let’s go to bed.”

You didn’t react.

Johnny carried you softly to your bedroom and tucked you in your bed. After getting ready for bed, he also got under the covers and pulled your body closer to his and held you tightly in his arms.

“I’m so sorry.” He cried out. Johnny felt terrible, he couldn’t lose you, the only option was to keep it a secret and delete last night from his memory. Johnny fell asleep crying.

You woke up between Johnny’s arms. He was holding you tightly and it didn’t look like you could get out of his arms anytime soon. He was soring softly and you could tell he was tired.

You stayed in bed for another hour and Johnny slowly woke up.

“Can you let me go?” you asked coldly. You were still hurt.

“S-Sorry.” He let go of you and you were about to leave the room but Johnny stopped you.

“Listen… I-I know you’re mad and I know I made a big mistake. I shouldn’t have left. I’m the biggest idiot on the planet, I’m so sorry I left you alone last night and… and the things I said. I didn’t mean them. I love you. Only you.”

Your hand was on the door handle, holding tightly. You didn’t answer, you didn’t know what to say. Were you still mad? Yes. Were you still hurt? Yes. You just wanted to be alone.

“Y-You left me alone o-on New Year’s Eve. You just left me all alone, I wanted to be with you. You know that I don’t have anyone. You know that I’m all alone and you still left. I only have you but you left me too.”

That was true. You had lost your parents a couple years ago and you don’t have any siblings. You don’t have any family left and you have only Johnny in your life. You were never the person to find friends easily, but Johnny was different. You were friends with his friends, but you were too shy and insecure to call them or text them. You hated it.

“I know- I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you, baby. Do you want to have dinner again tonight? I’ll cook. Or we can go out to that restaurant you love, let’s go on a date, hmm? Tell me baby. Tell me what you want.” He got up and walked closer to you. You stepped back on reflex.

Johnny stopped on his tracks and looked at you, worry written all over his face.

“D-Do you hate me that much?” he whispered.

“I-“

You didn’t know what to say.

“I think I need to be alone.” And then you left your bedroom and locked yourself in the bathroom and started crying.

Johnny knew he had to leave you alone, you had to calm down and he needed to find a way to make it up to you. He knew the fucked up, and the secret he carried was haunting him. Whenever he looked at you, he felt his heart ache.

Maybe you were blinded by your love for him or maybe you were just stupid, but you couldn’t be mad at him any longer.

You entered the bedroom and saw Johnny looking on the ceiling like a lost puppy. He instantly got up and looked at you. “D-Do you want me to leave?”

You were still crying and playing with your fingers. “I-I want to go o-on a that date with you. B-But that doesn’t mean I forgive you. I’m still hurt.” You sobbed.

“Okay baby, anything for you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left you alone. I’ll make it up to you, okay? I love you so much.” He stroked your tears away and cupped your cheeks. “I’m not going to hurt you again.”

Ooh, it seemed like everything was going fine I found the love that I thought was gonna last Then I accidentally saw a few things in your cell I even LOL'd, man, I should've known Why, why you're doing what you do You, you might as well just tell the honest truth See, I'm not really down with this This ain't no texting shit Know I got no biz, But it is what it is

I don't really have much to say I was over it the second that I saw her name

The first couple weeks of January, Johnny acted like the perfect boyfriend. He did everything he could to make you happy, to make you smile brightly at him.

You could see that he tried to make his mistake up to you and you enjoyed how he showered you with love. You were sure that he was the one, that Johnny was your future.

But that one night, January 31, changed everything.

You were waiting for Johnny to finish his shower. It was date night and you decided to go to the movies. While you were scrolling through your Instagram feed, Johnny’s phone ringed non-stop. He received text after text and even two calls and the sound annoyed the shit out of you. You got up to turn his sound off, but when you accidently saw the last text he got, you almost dropped the phone. You didn’t want to go through his texts, but you couldn’t stop yourself from reading the text she sent him.

19:27 Sujin: hey baby, I miss u

19:27 Sujin: are you free tonight? My pussy missed your dick!!!

19:28 Sujin: *picture attached*

It was a picture of her, half naked, you could fully see her breasts.

You should’ve known. You should’ve known that he lied when he told you that there was nothing going on between him and her.

You couldn’t cry, all you could do was laugh. Laugh at how stupid you were.

Why did he lie to you? Why didn’t he just tell you the truth? You were done with him and with his lies. Maybe it was your own fault. You knew that there was something, but you still believed him and took him back that night on New Year’s Eve. He said so much mean and disgusting things to you, Johnny acted like you were crazy and just out of your damn mind. He called you insecure. Johnny called you so many things and in the end, you were right.

You went to your shared bedroom and started packing a couple of your things. You needed to leave. Now.

You couldn’t cry. You wanted to, but you couldn’t. There were no tears left.

You packed some clothes, you weren’t going to move out. He cheated, he broke your heart and he has to leave. But you couldn’t stand being next to him. You would come back when he was gone.

Johnny entered the bedroom with a towel around his waist. His hair was still wet and little drops of water glistened on his body. Suddenly all you could see were her traces on his body. Love bites on his neck, down to his chest.

“Babe?”

You realized you were staring at him a little too long, the love bites were gone and Johnny came closer to you with a smirk.

“We can skip the movie if you want to.” He put two fingers on your chin and leaned down to kiss you, but you pulled back. Almost tripping over your bag.

“Babe? You good?”

“Cut the bullshit Johnny. I want you to leave and take all of your fucking shit with you. We’re done. I’ll come back when you’re gone.”

Johnny looked at you with so much confusion written all over his face. “Babe what are you talking about?”

“Go to your whore. She probably has enough space for you two.” You said with no emotion as you grabbed your bag.

Johnny still didn’t understand what you were talking about. “W-What are you saying? Baby I really don’t understand- What do you mean? Whore?”

You started laughing, “Come on, you know exactly who I’m talking about. She misses you so much Johnny. Poor girl needs her hole filled with your fucking cock. Go to her. She’s waiting for you.”

Johnny still didn’t get what you meant. “Fucking hell, I saw her texts Johnny! I’m leaving.”

It took Johnny a minute to realize what just happened.

You were about to leave the room when he stopped you. “Listen- please just listen to me.”

You scoffed, “There’s nothing you could say, Johnny.”

“T-There was nothing serious. S-She just texted me shit like that-“

“No Johnny! This isn’t just you and her texting, this is about you being not loyal to me. You lied to me, you called me names, you broke all your promises and you still cheated. You cheated on me with her, you don’t have to lie anymore. I won’t stop you anymore. Feel free to do whatever you want. Not that I stopped you from doing whatever you wanted before, but now you don’t need to come back to me anymore.”

You voice was filled with venom, Johnny knew he fucked up and he thought you would never find out, but now that you did, he didn’t know what to do or what to say to keep you, to make you stay.

“No no no don’t go. L-Let’s talk about this. Baby please don’t leave me. I love you.” Johnny started crying. For the first time in your life, you saw him cry.

You didn’t know how to feel about seeing him cry, but you listened to your brain and not to your heart like you always did and your brain told you to leave. You were done with him. So you left without looking back.

I got two, ooh, ooh letters for you One of them's F and the other one's U 'Cause what you gotta do, is go get yourself a clue Only two, ooh ooh letters to choose One of them's F and the other one's U SMH, I'm pressing send on you

Johnny texted you about thousand messages every day since you left. He called and left thousand voicemails. After two weeks, you also got mail with letters. Letters filled with apologies.

You hated him so much, but you couldn’t stop listening to his voicemails or stop reading his texts and letters. Maybe it was because you missed him or maybe you felt better now that he ran after you like a lost puppy. But you couldn’t let go of him if he keeps sending you things like that.

22:04 J: I won’t stop trying.

22:05 J: I love you too much to let you go.

You laughed at that. He loves you? Is cheating his way of loving you? You decided to answer him.

22:10 you: Fuck u Johnny. You don’t know anything about love so just stop and don’t embarrass yourself.

22:10 J: I can’t believe you texted back. I knew you were reading my messages. Please, let’s talk.

22:13 you: Don’t you get it? I don’t want to see you.

22:14 J: Okay, then answer the phone. Let’s just talk.

Your phone started ringing and you almost answered. It rang and rang and he called you again and again, but you never answered.

22:50 you: stop calling. Stop texting. Just leave me alone.

You shook your head angrily.

He left you alone on New Year’s Eve, why was it so hard for him to leave you alone now?

Could've been this, could've been that We done been there, we done been back You ain't with it, could've said that Why you tripping, let me hit that I ain't trying to argue more. I do it all for you, You know you're my right eye Baby, let me show you

Johnny was about to lose his mind.

After you left nothing made sense anymore. He was lonely. Lonelier than ever. Johnny has many friends but he never left the apartment to hang out with them.

There was no point in going out and coming back to a lonely home.

He missed you, he missed everything about you. He realized, after you left, that he loved so many small things about you. For example, the way you sneezed, that was the cutest sound he has ever heard or the way you always fell asleep with a little smile on your face. A smile he missed.

Johnny missed to see you on the couch, a pillow between your arms because you couldn’t hug Johnny, he had to take a shower or for whatever reason he couldn’t watch tv without you.

Oh, how he wished he could just drop everything and cuddle with you on the couch. You could’ve been in his arms right now, you could’ve been kissing him like you always did. You loved kissing him and he missed the feeling of your lips on his.

He regrets cheating on you. He regrets it so much and there’s not a single day without him crying about that.

Johnny rarely cried, you knew that, but after you left, he couldn’t stop his tears.

He had to show you how much he loved you, how much you mean to him. Johnny had to show you, that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Johnny would do anything to get you back.

Oh, I know what's been going on Don't even try to act like Mr Super Nonchalant What makes you think I'll stick around I'm not as stupid as you sound And you sound really dumb right now From A to Z, ooh I got a lot of nasty things flowing up in my head But none of them are worth my time You're not even worth this rhyme And I don't, I don't give a flying

It was hard for you to find a place to stay and Johnny knew that, but even though he wanted to be with you, he left your apartment so you could stay there. The only friends you had were Johnny’s and it was hard for you to ask them for help, you hated to ask other people for help, because you didn’t want to be a burden. That’s why you stayed in a hotel for two days, until Johnny texted you that he left the apartment. It hurt you a little, the fact that he was gone but you tried to ignore that feeling, just like you tried to ignore everything else he did. You overthink everything and you were scared to annoy his friends with your presence, which wasn’t even the case. After Johnny’s friend heard about what Johnny did and how he broke your heart, they lectured him and were angry. Yes, he was their friend but you were their friend too and what Johnny did was unacceptable. A couple of his friends reached out to you, they wanted to be there for you and help you go through the pain.

A month after your breakup, you met Johnny again. One of your mutual friends held a BBQ party and she insisted for you to come. Of course she told you about Johnny also being invited but you didn’t care about him at that moment. You wanted to have fun, but now, with him right in front of you, you wanted to go back home and hide under your bed. But you wouldn’t show him that.

You felt his eyes on you, no matter what you did or where you were.

Playing beer pong outside, his eyes were on you.

Cutting tomatoes in the kitchen, his eyes were on you.

Drinking your cocktail in the living room, his eyes were on you.

Not like a creep, of course. He watched you like someone who saw the love of their life for the first time and he saw the love of his life for the first time after the breakup. He thought about ways to approach you, to talk to you and apologize, but the timing was always bad.

Except for now.

“Y/n.”

Your turned around as soon as you heard his voice. The others were inside whereas you went outside for fresh air. Johnny followed you, he saw an opportunity to talk to you and he wouldn’t let go of that.

“Don’t walk away- please.”

“Why would I stay here with you?” you scoffed.

“Just listen to me, just once-“

“You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know what you’re going to say? It’s always the same shit. Oh, I’m so sorry. She doesn’t mean anything to me. Please forgive me. Blah Blah Blah.” You said in a mocking tone.

“But it is the truth! She doesn’t mean anything to me. I just love you, it was a mistake-“

“Johnny, come on. You sound so dumb right now. Just stop. Whenever I see your face, I just want to punch you and her, but you aren’t worth it. She isn’t worth it to be in my head. Fuck you and fuck her. Oh, wait, you did that already, right?”

Maybe you were being a little pathetic right now, but you didn’t care.

I don't really have much to say I was over it the second that I saw her name

“I don’t really have much to say. I was over it the second that I saw he name on your phone.” you said, looking him straight in the eyes. Your voice was so cold, just like your eyes.

“But I have things I need to tell you. I need to tell you how much I love you and how sorry I am. Just listen to me, just this once and If you’re still done with me, than okay, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fine. I’m so fucking sick of this.” You mumbled.

“I didn’t lie to you on New Year’s Eve. There was really nothing between me and her. She would text me but I never really replied to her. We went out a couple of times, but not just us. We went out with other friends and I barely noticed her. We were just friends, even less than that. On New Year’s Eve you pushed my buttons, I’m sorry to say it like that, but something inside me switched and all I wanted to do is to h-hurt you.” He looked down, ashamed, “I was drunk and angry. A really bad combination. I called her, she invited me to her home and before I knew it, I woke up with her next to me.”

You closed your eyes, you tried to imagine little butterflies and the sea, but all you could see was Johnny with another woman.

“As soon as I woke up, I came home and I-I didn’t know what to do. I hated -hate- myself for what I did that night, for hurting you and leaving you alone like that and for c-cheating on you. I know it’s not an excuse but I was so drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing. It just happened. When I saw you at home, asleep on the couch, it broke my heart. I wish- I wish I could turn back time and stay at home with you that night.”

“Johnny-“

“I’m not done. I deleted that night from my memory. I know it’s stupid but I couldn’t lose you. I was selfish and I thought that you would never find out. B-But that night you saw her messages, you only saw her messages. It looked like we were still texting and s-sleeping with each other. But here-“ he pulled out his phone and showed you their conversation.

“I always told her how much I loved you and that she should leave me alone. That I did the biggest mistake in my life and that you’re the love of my life. I swear Y/n, I am so sorry, so fucking sorry that I hurt you like this. But I mean it when I say that I only love you and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I did so many mistakes and I totally get that you h-hate me but I want to show you how much I actually love you and I know that you love me too.”

You scrolled through their texts. He said the truth, he always told her to fuck off and leave him alone, she was also blocked now. Johnny told her that he wants only you and that he would spend the rest of his days regret hurting you, but he’d also spend the rest of his days loving you.

“I-“ you didn’t know what to say.

He was right, you still loved him.

“Johnny… can you take me home?”

I got two, ooh, ooh letters for you One of them's F and the other one's U 'Cause what you gotta do, is go get yourself a clue Only two, ooh letters to choose One of them's F and the other one's U SMH, I'm pressing send on you

Johnny was bigger than you and stronger, but right now you felt like you were the stronger one.

You pressed him against the wall as you pressed your lips on his. You caught Johnny off guard but not even a second later, he kissed you back and put his hands on your waist.

“Don’t touch me.” you pulled away to say this and when he thought it was over, you kissed him again. Your hands were on his shirt, slowly pulling it up. When you were done, you pressed your hands lightly on his chest. You loved every inch of Johnny’s body.

Johnny was obviously stronger than you and he could push you away easily, but he couldn’t, until your hands landed on his belt. “N-No, Y/n wait-“ he said as he pulled away.

You ignored him.

You kissed right above his jeans, slowly going up leaving wet kisses on his belly and chest. You couldn’t reach his neck, you wanted to leave love marks, and that made you mad.

“Fucking big asshole. Why do you have to be so big?!”

“Y/n- I thought you wanted to talk? I don’t want you to do anything you might regret later.”

“Just shut up and let me do what I want to do.”

“You’re drunk.” Johnny said. Yes you had a couple cocktails but you knew what you were doing.

“Fuck you, I’m not drunk! Do you want to fuck me or not?!” you yelled now, annoyed that he hesitate so much.

“Of course I want to fuck you but-“

“No buts. Take off your pants.”

Johnny didn’t move. He didn’t know what to do. On the one hand he wanted to feel you close again, on the other hand he was scared to push you further away after having sex with you.

“Fine I’ll do it myself.” And you did. You unbuttoned his jeans, pulled it down along with his boxers and kneeled down.

His cock was semi-hard. The way you acted turned him on and now you’re on your knees looking absolutely beautiful and sexy.

You slowly started pumping his cock and Johnny bit his lip as he watched you. His tip was leaking with precum and you used it to make it easier to pump him. You put your lips on his tip and kissed it and then you licked it like a lollipop. You twirled your tongue on his tip, your hand still pumping him up and down. When you put his cock in your mouth, Johnny’s hands softly gripped your hair.

You pulled away, “No touching.” And he let go instantly. He was going crazy, he needed to touch you.

You put his cock back into your mouth and bopped your head. Johnny’s cock was big, you couldn’t fit all of his cock inside your mouth but the way he hit your throat turned him even more on. He was a moaning mess. You softly played with his balls and you felt him twitch. He was about to cum and right before he could, you stopped and pulled away.

“Fuck- What why did you stop? Are you alright?” he asked you. First frustrated that you stopped him from coming and then worried that he hurt you.

“Lay down.” You ordered him.

Johnny listened. He laid down on your bed and watched you take off your dress and your underwear. A sight he had missed so much, so fucking much.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Stop talking.” You ignored the butterflies in your belly.

You crawled on top of him and slowly put his cock inside of you. You were definitely wet enough. Johnny lost his mind, he missed being inside of you. He missed being this close to you.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He moaned and his hands landed on your hips.

You grabbed his hands and pressed them down on each side of his head. “I said no touching, Johnny. No. Fucking. Touching.” You didn’t stop moving your hips as you said that you knew it turned him on as you felt him twitch again.

You weren’t going to lie. You felt amazing. You were embarrassingly close, all you did was sucking his dick and riding him for not even a minute.

You kept your hands on his wrists as you rode him faster and faster. The way you clenched around him, the little sounds that left your from kissing bruised lips, he loved it. Johnny loved you.

“I’m going to c-cum.” He moaned out.

“C-Cum inside of me, I want every drop of your cum Johnny.” You were so close and when Johnny came inside of you and closed his eyes while moaning your name out loudly, you came too.

You let go of Johnny’s wrists and collapsed on top of him as he pulled his cock out of you.

Chest against chest, heartbeat against heartbeat.

Your head was in the crook of his neck and you were breathing heavily. You tried to catch your breath and stop yourself from crying, but Johnny heard you sniffle and not even a second later, you started sobbing in his arms.

“Y/n? Are you crying?” he rubbed your back softly, not sure what else to do.

“Fuck you. I’m not crying I’m dancing you i-idiot.” You cried out.

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, you didn’t notice how hard you were crying until it got hard to breath.

“Hey hey hey, I’m sorry. Look at me. You have to calm down.” Johnny softly pushed you up and you wrapped your arms around your boobs, suddenly feeling completely exposed and vulnerable.

Johnny was about to move away and you immediately hugged him tightly, you were scared that he would leave after fucking you. You were scared that you were just imagining this and that he wasn’t actually here. But Johnny actually just wanted to give you his shirt.

“Fuck you. I hate you. Y-You broke my heart.” You cried out as you hid your face in his neck.

Johnny slowly stroked your hair and with his other hand he held you tightly. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you, but I love you so, so much.”

He was crying too.

“Y-you really don’t deserve me. Fuck you for hurting me, fuck you for cheating on me and fuck you… I-I still… love you.” You finally said it. It was so hard but all the weight on your shoulders vanished and you felt relieved.

“I love you. Only you. Please forgive, please let me love you again. Please I need you so much.” Johnny said and left little kisses on your shoulder.

You pulled back softly and looked him in the eyes. Your eyes were as red as his and full of pain and love.

“Please don’t hurt me ever again, please no matter how much you want to hurt me, just yell at me o-or I don’t know throw something at me… b-but don’t do that again…”

Johnny’s heart ached, he would never forgive himself for hurting you like this, for breaking your heart. It was a punch in the face to hear your words. Was he really such a monster? Yes he was. He was a monster who hurt his better half for something so stupid and now you were suffering. You were always right and he would do anything to make you happy. How could he even get mad at someone as kind and lovely as you? How could he even think of hurting you?

“D-Don’t say that. I will never hurt you again, I promise. I could never get mad at you, Y/n. Everything was my fault, I did this to us and you never deserved this. You are too good for me and I’ll make sure to show you how much I adore you, how much you mean to me. I’ll never let go of your hand.” He took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles, “I love you, Y/n. Can you give me a second chance?”

You looked him in his teary eyes. You were going to follow your heart and your heart told you to try again. You could see his love for you in his eyes and you could hear it in his broken voice. You were ready to give him a second chance, you could forgive him but you would never forget what he did.

You nodded softly “Y-You have to make it up to me and it won’t be easy.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Okay.” You breathed out.

“Thank you.” He looked you in the eyes with his brown puppy eyes and you couldn’t stop yourself from pecking his lips. You pulled back and watched his reaction. Johnny smiled softly and both of you slowly leaned in and kissed. A soft and slow kiss, with so much passion and longing.

#johnny suh #johnny angst #neosmutcollective #johnny smut #nct johnny #johnnysuh #johnny suh x you #johnny x y/n #johnny x reader #nct smut #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct imagines #johnny suh imagines #johnny suh scenarios #johnny suh smut #johnny suh angst #nct fic #johnny x you

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ariondevereux · 2 years ago

Note

Not me coming back to clutter ur inbox once more. (yes I'm tokrev anon once again. I feel so bad for cluttering ur inbox I'm so sorry. 😭). Omg I can't believe mila read that ask. I'm fangirling 😭😭🥰. Heeey!! I love u and ur work sm! U and nikka are such lovely people. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

You asked about Phoenix, so here are some hcs I had for them and Shiloh. This got way longer than I expected. I'm so sorry that I keep sending you mammoth sized essays. 😂

Some facts about phoenix ortega

they were originally born in Buenos Aires, Argentina but moved to London when they were quite young (around 4 or 5 maybe).

they grew up near the soho area in London and they took up a part time job in a Hmong-Chinese restaurant, so they picked up some conversational mandarin there which they sometimes practice with shiloh.

at first phoenix didn't like Shiloh at all. they have a bunch of trust issues so they were a bit suspicious about shiloh's friendliness. they think people only act nicely when they want something from them always want something from them, that's how they thought life works kind of like a business transaction, the gang and being betrayed by one of the people closest to them taught them that.

phoenix is an ENTJ/INTJ, so sometimes they can come off across as cold and rude. They pretend to be cold and heartless, but on the inside they're just a broken person who yearns for the love that they were never really given by their parents.

Shiloh and Phoenix's friendship started off as a business relationship, which lowkey- turned into a one-sided rivalry which phoenix used as an excuse to spend more time with shiloh because of Mei lmao (would often have to go to shiloh's home for meetings and stuff like that idk 😂). Phoenix has a huge soft spot for dogs which they'll never admit to anyone. Shiloh often teased Phoenix about them being a completely different person as soon as Mei was in view. Phoenix would get flustered and dismiss the teasing by telling shiloh that he's just spewing bullshit like always.

Shiloh was also a bit reluctant about Phoenix due to their reputation but the more he got to know Phoenix the more he wanted to spend time with them. I guess he was rather curious and wanted to see what was hidden behind the walls that Phoenix constantly puts up.

After Tej's betrayal Phoenix didn't show up for some of the meetings and no one could get a hold of them and so since Shiloh was the only person that they knew Phoenix was close to they sent him to find them. After stopping at Phoenix's apartment, shiloh knocked for a while but there was no answer, but after a while Phoenix opened the door. They were wrapped around a blanket with a Hello Kitty mug filled with wine on one hand and a greggs sausage roll on the other. 💀

Love Island was playing in the background and they just sat in silence for a while (yes phoenix watches love Island, they keep up with every single episode 😭). Phoenix was in a coocon in the sofa and didn't want to get up. Shiloh suggested they go for a late night drive to the beach. Phoenix at first said no, but shiloh managed to make them accept after saying that they'll take mei along.

It was late at night,they drove in silence. They got to the beach and it was dark, they just sat and watched the stars. Their backs were back to each other because Phoenix didn't want to be seen being so vulnerable, they hate that part of themselves and didn't want shiloh to see it. Phoenix finally turned around just hugged Shiloh out of nowhere. Shiloh was so taken aback he almost fell back. He put his arms around Phoenix and rubbed their back telling them thatevrythings gonna be ok. Phoenix really needed to hear that because they completely broke down.

After that Phoenix fell asleep. Shiloh didn't want to wake them up and phoenix sleeps like a log, not even a fire alarm can wake this bitch up. 💀so they essentially carried them back to the car and drove them home.

The next day Phoenix woke up like "Oh fuck no what the fuck did my drunkass do? 💀". They were really flustered and embarrassed but they still wanted to thank shiloh for that day. They were at shiloh's door but they chickened the fuck out after knocking. Shiloh opens the door to find a giant packet of Meis favourite dog snacks with a note attached to it with Phoenix's shitty handwriting that just had a smiley face on it " :))".

After that they quickly became friends. Phoenix was not used to someone being so kind to them without wanting anything in return like Shiloh, but they didn't particularly mind it. 👀. Forward to the present, Phoenix is a big Shiloh simp, they fell for Shiloh's personality, their little quirks, their teasing, the late night drives, the late into the night chats, his smile. Before they knew it they had fallen head over heels for Shiloh and erm... they become a hot mess when Shiloh flirts with them. Phoenix. exe just stops working, they're such a shy goof all honestly. 😭😭

One last fact. Ever since becoming friends with Shiloh they've been teaching themselves some Cantonese and brushing up a bit on their conversational mandarin they had learned in high school. Hmmm I wonder why? 🤔😂😂

DONT APOLOGIZE I LOVED THESE OMG

please the beach scene got me in my feelings 😭😭 i wish they didn’t experience enough pain that they developed trust issues but i’m also a HUGE sucker for emotionally closed off characters being the first one to give in. when phoenix suddenly hugged shiloh i was grinning like an IDIOT. and shiloh carrying them to the car and driving them home because they fell asleep…… me and who

and phoenix leaving a bag of treats for mei on shiloh’s doorstep SHUT UP THAT WAS SO CUTE i can imagine them literally dashing tf outta there 😭😭😭 ugh idc that shiloh can fight. if he doesn’t treat phoenix right i will fight him with my bare hands

thank you for sharing these with me. phoenix sounds absolutely lovely 🥺 they’re so fleshed out too i already love them. gonna put them in my pocket and protect them from the order 😤

#tokrev anon #nikka answers

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ktheist · 4 years ago

Text

(why) we got married | m

synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.

you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?

muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader

alternative title. as you are.

inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift

genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst

words. 12.5k

warnings. explicit content

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.

and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.

“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”

“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”

the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.

when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?

the answer was never.

the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.

everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.

but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.

but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.

you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.

of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.

chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.

“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.

it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”

and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.

either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.

it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.

you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.

“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”

mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.

“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.

“what-”

“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”

“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”

mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.

“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.

the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.

“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.

“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”

you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.

it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.

and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.

all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.

the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.

your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.

that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.

“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.

“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.

the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.

“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.

“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.

the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”

clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”

“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.

it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”

swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.

only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.

“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.

in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”

and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.

when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.

and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.

if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.

on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.

“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”

when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”

“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”

you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.

with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”

though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”

the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.

“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.

“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives. even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”

you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”

but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.

so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.

but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.

it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.

and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.

“jungkook...”

“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.

“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.

“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.

“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”

but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"

“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.

“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”

it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.

“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”

“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”

“then why are you...” it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”

“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.

when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”

it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”

silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”

the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”

and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.

shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.

“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.

“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”

“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.

“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”

“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”

“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”

“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”

you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.

the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.

“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.

“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”

“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.

“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.

after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”

it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.

because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.

picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-

“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”

“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”

“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”

“i did?” you blink, surprised.

“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.

back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.

it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.

the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.

but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”

“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”

“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.

then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.

“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”

that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”

the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.

the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.

“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.

“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.

taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.

it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.

“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.

“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.

“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”

it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.

“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”

the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.

“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.

but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,

“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.

that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.

he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”

taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.

like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.

“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.

and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.

“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.

“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.

“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”

“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”

it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”

the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”

and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.

without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”

and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.

“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.

you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.

“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.

and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.

the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”

it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.

“th-thank you.”

mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”

“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”

he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.

“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”

it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-

“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”

he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.

nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.

“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”

“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.

but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”

at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.

“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”

it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.

so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”

the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”

it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.

“my husband and i are working on it,” was all you say.

when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.

he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”

“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.

taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.

“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.

home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.

then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.

“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.

“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.

“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.

“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”

he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”

“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”

“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”

taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”

at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.

but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.

“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”

and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.

patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”

his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.

dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”

while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”

and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’

“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.

that was half an hour ago.

now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.

so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.

you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.

“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.

“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.

“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.

your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.

the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.

who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?

the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”

“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”

and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.

“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”

“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”

the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.

it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.

sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.

you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.

by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”

“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”

this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”

you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.

“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.

the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.

“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.

but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.

“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.

five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.

“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.

it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.

the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.

a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.

it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.

then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.

slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.

“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.

“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.

“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.

"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but

after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.

first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?

taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, ��i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”

taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.

with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.

before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”

mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.

“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.

you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.

those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.

or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.

“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.

it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”

and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.

then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.

and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.

“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”

“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”

“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.

picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.

a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”

“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”

the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.

“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”

all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.

“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”

“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.

“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”

the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”

the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”

a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”

“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”

she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.

boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.

over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.

the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”

“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”

lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.

“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”

“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.

it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”

the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”

“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.

“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.

in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.

a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.

you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.

note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!

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rightsockjin · 3 years ago

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Summary: Your best friend of your near entire life has been a total asshat to you ever since you started to casually date which didn't seem super fair to you since he did the exact same thing and you were nothing but supportive! It just sucks that you two are growing apart over a coping mechanism that you adopted to distract yourself from your overwhelming crush on said idiot. If only he knew. Wait- did you say that OUT LOUD?

Rating: M (What isn't on this blog?)

Genre: Maybe a little angst? Smut for sure tho.

Word count: 8003

Warnings: Thongs, sex, lewd thoughts, erections, physical pushing, raw dogging, cream pie, mentions of giving head, a looooooottt of swearing, mentions of slut shaming. Oh right- oppa kink and little splashes of korean as well.

yeo-chin= girlfriend

nam-chin= boyfriend

halmoni= grandma

apa=to hurt

aya=expression to express pain equivalent to 'ow'

Author’s note: HI EVERYONE! We are somewhat back!! So sorry for the long wait for content. Things have been insane and we’ve been working on a much- much longer fic for this blog which will involve all of the boys! It’s a long story but this hit me like a truck yesterday and it was initially meant to be a reaction but I couldn’t stop writing… so it’s 7k and the other boys will get their own version of this prompt “best friend is jealous of the attention you give to guys” thing. Starting once again with the one and only Yoongi! Hope y’all enjoy:)

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“You know it’s funny, I don’t remember asking,” Yoongi said virulently, his attention centered solely on his phone as he scrolled through instagram... or twitter... or maybe it was tinder. Your heart sank. You had been excited that this guy- Woojin- had given you attention. He was good looking by a lot of standards and it had boosted your confidence significantly. Of course, you wanted to share that excitement with your best friend. Rejecting someone that good looking always made you feel really powerful and attractive but you had barely shown him Woojin’s picture and commented on how attractive he was before your so called best friend had brushed you off and went back to his solitude and avoidance.

You had noticed that something was off for a while now but hadn’t commented on anything to avoid any conflicts but this was ridiculous. You had constantly listened to the stories of how girls would trickle in like water for him. He seemed to be going out with someone new every two weeks.

It wasn’t fair that you had to put up with his annoying descriptions of how beautiful these girls were while you sat and gave him your undivided attention as your heart slowly chipped and broke with each new conquest of his. Especially when each girl was so different from who you were. At first, you thought that maybe you were annoyed by this simply because it was hurtful to think he didn’t at least think you were pretty. It wasn’t long after that that you realized that it hurt you when he went out with women who were your polar opposite because it meant that he would never date you.

This had been shocking in itself. You had known Yoongi for your entire life, or at least a good portion of it, and you had always seen him as a brother. Your oppa in the least sexual or boyfriend-y form possible, but when you looked at him now… he was looking a lot more like well- an oppa.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. His words stung more than you would like to admit. Whenever Yoongi got this snippy, you liked to equal him in snip and double him in sass, never showing how vulnerable his disinterest made you feel, but this time, it felt like he had punched you in the chest with all his force and told you you were ugly to boot.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him either. He’d make fun of you. Last time you had cried, he’d awkwardly pat you on the head and quickly changed the very serious topic of your parents' relationship with yours to something totally different and not even a little relevant to helping you feel better. Given, that had been years ago and he’d never been very good at comforting you nor had he so much as expressed his support of you. Not since that one time when you had broken your wrist and he’d promptly pushed the girl who had been the culprit off the swing set thus getting himself suspended for a week and a half when you were both in elementary school.

But this… this was just cruel. It was ugly. It made you look at your “best friend” in a light that was not so shiny and pristine. He’d changed so much since then. He’d pulled away from you since then and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe you had and had just ignored it. Maybe you’d hoped if you didn’t mention it, that it would go away and he would come back full force with one of his dumb dances and pretty smiles. Maybe you hoped he’d realize soon what you had realized in your early twenties.

You loved him. And not the brotherly love that you had always had for him, no, you, Y/N, were very much in love with your best friend. Which made this whole situation so much worse.

When you said nothing, Yoongi briefly glanced up at you from his seemingly important phone conversation with most likely another of his soon to be dates only to look back down.

“What? Cat got your tongue? No snippy rebuttal? You’re not gonna chew me out for being mean to you again?”

His face was illuminated by the blue lights of his screen; he had it at the near darkest setting and his eyes were squinted to see it better. Something that had always annoyed you because you knew it was only hurting his vision.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. When that didn’t help, you cleared it, accidentally catching his attention. He clicked his phone off and looked over at you as if ready to argue but something in your face must have given away your inner turmoil because his hard features softened and his lips fell slightly open.

“Are you crying?”

No. Of course you weren’t crying. You never cried. Not ever. But then your cheeks were wet and the onslaught of emotion seemed to burst. How far had you fallen for this indefinitely cold man that his sarcasm made you fall in hysterics? Far it seemed. Too far.

You angrily wiped the tears away from your burning skin and crossed your arms over your chest. The hoodie you had stolen from him earlier that day felt like sandpaper against your skin as opposed to the comfort you’d initially felt when slipping over your head and smelling the fresh scent of his cologne clinging to it.

You felt him shift on the couch to face you fully, out of the corner of your eye, you could see his features had turned worried, alarmed even but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him nor care. Too little too late.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the still air like a wrong note played in a symphony. It made your head spin and ache.

You didn’t dare speak. It would only give away how truly hurt you were by his words and actions. You didn’t want to be around him anymore.

Abruptly, you stood up and yanked the hoodie from your body. The tank you had on pulled up slightly showing the skin of your belly. It was lopsided, you noted when you looked down and saw that one side was pulled over and under your bra and the other was too high on your chest but you didn’t really care.

Yoongi watched you with conflict evident in his eyes, if only you would turn to see. He hadn’t meant to offend you. He’d only been trying to keep you at arms length. You had also been going out with multiple guys, telling him how good looking and tall they all were. Most of these men were also built like rocks and he himself was toned at best. Contrary to what you thought, Yoongi had come to the realization that he’d been in love with you since you were kids. He did not tolerate when anyone made you feel like shit, and, being a very mature kid, he’d told his mother quite early on that he would marry you someday. Of course, she’d only chastised him and told him that he couldn’t possibly know what love was nor could he force you to marry him, but he was adamant.

He’d stopped telling her about it after that though, and instead of telling you how he felt, he’d opted instead to watch over you and make sure nothing happened. So when in high school, you had started to date and it had not been him whom you had chosen, he’d made sure to keep the sorry excuse of a man you had chosen in line. That was… until the incident.

Yoongi would never forgive himself for not being there. For not stopping the bastard who thought he owned you. He’d never forgive the idiot either and if you hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed him with his bare fists then stuffed his own socks in his mouth.

It was then that Yoongi realized that you deserved better than him, and at the same time, no one was worthy of you. It was a strange dynamic. He’d never once approved of your dates, but had decided to start dating other women because, let's face it, he was a guy and he’d like to have children someday but not even in his wildest dreams could he think that you would ever settle for him. Someone who’d failed you as your self imposed protector.

Not that you knew any of that. You didn’t know that Yoongi often teamed up with your other best friend, your girl best friend to scope out your dates once you’d left. You’d almost caught them once as well and it had been by pure luck and the hair of a very out of place clown that both of them had escaped your wrath that night. You also didn’t notice that after you had fully broken up with that first asshole, he’d threatened to beat him to a pulp if he so much as breathed in your direction once more and later, he’d threatened ‘asshole’ two and three with the same things.

But then your dates had gotten taller and stronger and much harder to intimidate. He’d once made the mistake of threatening a casual date that you’d set up who was at least a solid half foot taller than him and he’d been laughed out of the restaurant only to find out later that the jerk had forced a kiss on you.

No, Yoongi’s days as your protector had dwindled and left him feeling half of the man he’d already thought he was and so his only defense, his only way to keep you safe- though now that he was watching tears well in your eyes he wondered what logic he’d used to justify this behavior- was to be the asshole himself and teach you how to deal with them on a first hand basis.

He hated himself for making you cry. He hated that you looked so dejected and hurt and like you never wanted to speak another word to him again. He hated that your shoulders slumped and that your pretty eyelashes were coated in wet tears and it was all on him.

“You know what,” you finally managed to say with some semblance of calm under the storm that was brewing in the irises he’d so loved, “I think we’ve grown apart a little too much. Maybe we should just- cut our losses and,” you heaved a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm, “stop seeing each other.”

Were you breaking up with him? How were you even going to break up with him if you weren’t even dating? Yoongi’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He had tunnel vision. All he could see was you and the way that you seemed to pull yourself up from the ground, rebuilding before his eyes.

“Stop see-what? Are you demented?”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Was that all he was capable of being? Wrong. Incorrect. Inexact. Erroneous. Mistaken. He was plain stupid for the words he’d let slip but there was no taking them back now.

You let your eyes widen as you wiped more of your furiously falling tears from your skin. You turned to face him, your shirt fixed and covering you exactly how it should and your features set and intentional.

“What’s the point? You clearly don’t want to be around me anymore and I’m tired of being berated every time I mention a guy. You’re the most unsupportive friend I have and that’s because I’ve known you the longest. If you don’t want to be my friend just say so instead of slut shaming me and bullying me every chance you get you asshat.”

“Asshat,” he chuckled, crossing his sleeve-covered arms over his toned chest, “real clever, Y/N. Is that all you got, kid? You never were one for words were you? Why don’t you just sock me instead?”

Oh you were considering it. He seemed so unbothered by the prospect of losing you that you realized maybe you had already lost him and hadn’t realized. You had dealt with your fair share of jerks in your life, but you had always counted on Yoongi to be your hope. He’d shown you that there were men in the world that seemed to care about women. Men who could love you even when you felt unlovable, unworthy, but here he was, proving to you once again that all men were the same evil and vile creatures, incapable of love or kindness if they weren’t getting their dicks wet.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Then you could go around saying that I’m a crazy bitch. You know what? Fuck you Min Yoongi. I hope you get well and royally fucked.” You yelled, grabbing the tote bag you’d brought over from your apartment and stomping to the door.

“Fuck you too,” he yelled, following you to the door. He caught you at the landing strip, prying on your chunky sneakers with a bit of difficulty, your house slippers, the ones he’d bought you, lay haphazardly nearby.

“And fuck all of those asshole guys you keep bringing home. Better yet, I hope you don’t fuck them.”

You turned your head up to look at him, confusion and disgust written all over your face.

“What the fuck do my dates had to do with what a fucking jerk you are?”

Choosing to ignore your question, he focused instead on your insult, “A jerk, am I? Well you’re a bitch. How do you like that?”

He didn’t know why he was insulting you. He didn’t think you were actually a bitch, but the anger on your face made him feel better.

It was followed by near instant regret as you drew yourself up to your full height and looked at him with pure venom in your gaze.

“I’m a bitch?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying to keep his shoulders square, but you were scary when angry and he’d never fared well in fights with you.

“I’m the bitch?”

“You heard me!”

You balled your fists at your sides, your eyebrows connected in the center and your breathing was heavy. He knew better than to use the B-word.

“You’re a piece of shit.” It was low but your voice carried and hit all of the bones in his body before it hit his heart and burrowed deep in the wounds he’d stitched up but pulled open multiple times over the years that pertain only to you.

“You are a sorry excuse of a man,” you growled, pushing him by the chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you noted that it felt really firm and stronger than before.

“You’re an ass, Min Yoongi,” you continued, giving him another push so that he stumbled slightly back into the living room of his apartment once again.

“You low life,” another push, closer to the couch, “weak minded,” you shoved him, he sidestepped the glass coffee table where your untouched coffee mugs still rested, probably cold by now, “son of a bitch, fucking baby, involved sorry excuse of a man-” He fell onto the cough. Your vision was red.

“You already used that insult.” Was all he said as you stood over him, your chest heaved with the exertion of trying to keep yourself from slapping the now blank expression from his face.

A slew of incomprehensible noises escaped from your lips as words completely left your brain. Damn him. Damn this idiot of a man that you were in love with. He could go to hell for all you cared and you hoped that the devil himself ripped his testicles off and served them on a platter with some kimchi and fried rice.

“Okay first of all- ow,” The asshole said, pulling you back to reality and not your fictitious rework where Yoongi was now sitting at the end of a long table being force fed his own balls, “And second…”

You held your breath. Fear ran down your spine. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud-

“You-you’re in love with me?”

Well… he got his wish, you were royally fucked. Instantly, you tried to back track. Your mind kept replaying in your head what you had said and tried to correct itself but you couldn’t think of anything that could possibly absolve you.

“Like a brother,” you said finally, your voice shaky and thin.

Yoongi only blinked up at you. What you said was bullshit and he knew it. You knew it too.

“You’re in love with me… like a brother?”

“Oppa,” you clarified as if that would somehow make more sense, and it did kind of, but it didn’t absolve you at all. In fact, this only made a smile tug at his lips, his pearly teeth suddenly on display, blinding. You fought the smile that threatened to pull at yours too. It was always hard because his smile was so contagious.

Yoongi stood. He was less than an inch away from your own body. You felt small, meek. You’d misstepped this big game of chess you seemed to be playing. He was going to make fun of you. He’d never let you live it down. You liked him.

“You like me,” as if he had read your mind, he echoed your thoughts, or maybe you had spoken that out loud as well.

“No I don’t,” you argued, taking a step back just so you could have some space to breathe.

“Oh yeah you do,” Yoongi argued, his smile so wide you were sure it would hurt the muscles in his cheeks

“No,” you said again, not really thinking anything you said at this point would convince him otherwise. The son of a bitch was stubborn.

“Admit it,” he said, closing the distance between you again, his neck craned down to look directly at your face.

“I don’t like you!” You tried to take another step back but the coffee table knocked your feet out from under you. You fell onto it knocking Yoongi’s mug of coffee over. The black decaf liquid seeped into your shorts.

Yoongi’s rusty laugh was pried from his throat as he watched your face contort. He was having the time of his life, it seemed. Good for him.

“Stop laughing at me,” you groaned, your cheeks red. You were practically sweating from how feverish you felt.

It was like you hadn’t spoken. Your shorts were wet and made you feel sticky. In a fit of anger, like a child throwing a tantrum, you unbuttoned the denim and ripped them from your legs. This shut Yoongi up instantly. With the soiled fabric, you cleaned up the liquid before it fell onto the light grey carpet.

Yoongi stilled as his eyes traveled up and down your long legs.The way you were twisting, he could see the back of your left thigh up to where it met your ass- your bare ass. You were wearing a thong.

God help him, he was rapidly getting hard. He forced his eyes away from you, his walls being pulled back up at seeing you naked. Well partially so. He pushed his hands into his oversized hoodie and made sure that it covered his front. The last thing he needed was for you to see.

But then you turned and pulled your legs together, your thighs squishing attractively. What he wouldn’t give to be choked by those thighs.

“Let me wash those for you,” he said tightly, pulling a hand from his hoodie to take the soiled shorts, the hem of the fabric pulled up enough for you to see exactly what he’d been trying to hide.

Yoongi had a hard on. You weren’t sure why exactly you were surprised. You were attractive, that much you knew, but you never really expected for your best friend to see you in that way. In fact, you were pretty sure that you’d been in your underwear in front of him before and he hadn’t even given you a second glance, but there was the evidence. And God was there a lot of evidence.

Slowly, you handed him the shorts. His hand grabbed them tightly, avoiding touching any part of your hand with his. Then, after a slight pause, he turned on his heels and walked towards the kitchen to put the shorts into the washer.

You’d called him oppa. You rarely called him oppa and it had hypersensitized him to the word coming from your lips. Other girls called him oppa sometimes and it had no effect on him but there he was, stiff as a board and it had something to do with you calling him oppa and your state of undress. Fuck. He was fucked. So fucked.

At least he wished he could be… But no. He pushed those thoughts from his head as he threw in some nice scented soaps into the wash and clicked it to life. He shut his eyes, trying to think of anything that would drain the blood from his member- halmeoni maybe?- but your voluptuous ass kept intruding, giving his halmeoni some nice curves that messed with her wrinkled face. He shook his head once more and decided he’d just have to hide his boner until it went away, or go beat one out in the restroom really quick.

He grabbed a pair of his clean sweat pants from the drying rack to give to you, just so you would be comfortable, he told himself, not because the thought of your naked butt in them made him unspeakably horny.

But when he got back to the living room, what he found was not you, covering yourself with a pillow like he’d expected, but you, only in your thong- fuck did it have to be a thong?- and your bra. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, burring his head in his hands and turning away from you.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough that can be arranged,” you answered rather boldly. There was no way for him to know that you were quaking in fear for his rejection.

Yoongi’s dick twitched in his sweats.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said under his breath as his heart beat faster. He felt like he was having a whole heart attack. He patted his chest, hoping to calm it down knowing it was useless.

Should he go for it? You had just admitted accidentally that you did have feelings for him and you were clearly propositioning him. Should he just-

He turned around, back to face you, determination paining his expression. Still on the coffee table, your legs were spread open, only covered by the thin sliver of fabric that your thong allotted. You were a little cold, but all of that melted away when you saw the way that Yoongi’s eyes roamed your exposed body, then stopped abruptly to meet your own.

He was in front of you in seconds, his longer legs carried him farther and faster than you had anticipated. Then he was pulling you to stand. You wobbled on your legs but one of his arms found its way around your waist. His free hand came up and held your jaw with two fingers on either side of your face, squishing your lips together slightly. His hot, heavy member pressed against your stomach through his sweats. He was so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath and the fading smell of his cologne you loved so much. All you wanted was to grind against him but you were held too tightly.

“You never know when to shut up do you?” But he didn’t let you answer. He crashed his soft lips onto yours, his hold on your jaw ached but you didn’t care. There was a passion in his kiss that you hadn’t expected, subtly dwindling to something more like tenderness, and the kiss continued. His lips dragged against yours delicately, pinching your top one with both of his. Small breaths came out of his nose, whistling softly against your cheek. You timed your breaths with his, high on the feeling of finally being kissed, coveted by him. Was it real? Was this actually happening?

Your brain suddenly caught up with your body. The rightness that came with the way he was kissing you, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed you to properly breathe, was like nothing you could have imagined.

The hand on your waist was drawing small circles where the elastic of your thong rested, his index finger casually hooked onto and under pulling lightly. You pressed yourself tighter than he had you against his erection. He groaned, his mouth opening and his tongue suddenly darting out to taste. He pulled your jaw open, granting himself entrance and exploring your mouth.

You moaned, a sound so sensuous and wanton that Yoongi felt that he could cum just from those sounds alone. He wanted more. He wanted you to sing his praises as he fucked into you and caressed your chest. He wanted you to drool around his cock and to have your sweet mouth wrapped tight around it. He wanted to feel you gag at his girth and he wanted to pull at your hair. But most of all, he wanted to kiss you, just like how he was at that moment. He wanted to kiss you until he’d taken your soul from your body and replaced it with his own. He wanted to kiss you until he could erase every trace of all of the men who’d hurt you and made you doubt that you were worthy and wanted. Yoongi wanted to kiss his love into you no matter how long he had to do it. If he was locked in a room with you for months, so be it.

But your hand had found its way between your bodies and was slowly coming down to his hips. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and panicked. He hadn’t gotten your consent. He hadn’t asked you if it was okay for him to kiss you or to hook his fingers on your thong. As stupid as it sounded, even to Yoongi himself, he needed to make sure that you wanted this to happen, even as your hand had found the outline of his cock and you had started to trace the outline of it over the fabric-

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped, ripping himself away from you. The hand around your waist was now on your shoulder to keep you at enough distance so that his brain could function and wasn’t clouded by the horniness he was feeling.

“Wha…?” You slurred, your eyes were glazed over and your body was completely relaxed.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, fighting his every instinct to push your mouth open and have you suck on his thumb before he pushed you onto your knees to suck him off, “and I will.”

His eyelids were heavy and he was sweating slightly. He was so hard that it hurt and the circles you were drawing on his penis were not helping at keeping him at bay. He knew if he looked down, there would be a stain of precum on his sweats.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in and kissing his jaw before you nibbled and kissed down his taught neck.

“Fuck.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You licked a thick swipe up his jugular, “I want you.”

“Then admit it,” Yoongi heard himself say. He was just as surprised as you were to hear those words from his lips, “admit that you like me.”

You pulled away then, dropping both your arms in exasperation, “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m in my underwear, stroking your cock and you want me to stroke your ego too? Un-fucking-believeable. You’re a dumb ass.”

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

“Aya, apa~” he groaned, rubbing his head, the dynamic that you were used to suddenly restored.

“Yeah? Great! I’m glad that it hurt! I hope it hurts really bad you jerk. Then maybe you’ll understand what it was like for me to listen to you go on and on about all the girls you went out with every fucking week. In fact-”

“Aya! What the fuck? Stop flicking me,” he nearly screamed, clutching the tip of his nose.

“Make me.”

Big mistake. Yoongi didn’t take your dare lightly. His eyes darkened then he leaned down and picked you up. You squeaked, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked you to his room. His hands cupped your butt fairly comfortably, like this was something you did often. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed.

“You think I wasn’t hurt as well?” He asked, clasping a hand around your neck and lightly pressing his fingers against your skin.

“You think I like knowing that everywhere we go, men are watching you, coveting you the way I do? You think it isn’t torture when you go out and I don’t hear from you until the next day?”

He pushed you up against his pillow. The duvet was already all messed up under your body. He was between your legs, pressing himself into your core. Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him all the way inside you. He wanted nothing more than to do the same but he had to make sure you knew first.

“You think it was easy being in love with you when you wanted nothing from me but friendship?”

Your eyes softened. Yoongi was in love with you too? When?

“Since we were kids,” he answered. Again you had spoken without meaning to. “I always knew it was you, Y/N. It was only ever you.”

But something wasn’t adding up. You fought your rising feelings of elation. You wanted to understand what he was saying. If he had liked you since you were kids then why had he never asked you out? Why become the serial dater he’d become? But he’d never had a girlfriend, you reminded yourself. He’d only ever “dated” and then dropped these women. You always assumed he was screwing them all.

Yoongi became sheepish then. “I uh… I did have sex with some of them but-” and the hurt in your eyes would be enough to kill him,” it was only at the start. I thought that if i had sex with other people I’d stop chasing after you. But it didn’t work… I haven’t slept with anyone since junior year of college.”

Your eyes widened. “College?”

He nodded, his pale cheeks blushing prettily.

“They just...were never you… and then I thought if I pushed you away that would help but that only made us estranged and-”

You pushed yourself up and shut him up with a kiss. He was over thinking and you could talk about all that later.

“You’re an idiot,” you started and he rolled his eyes, “but if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to do it myself.”

Yoongi’s eyes rolled into his head and he thrust lightly into your wet center.

“Talk after?”

“As long as you want,” you agreed, already pushing at his sweats. Yoongi sat up and pulled his hoodie and shirt off in one fell swoop, then, at the speed of lightning, pulled off his sweats, leaving him in his boxers.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his boxers off as well and then he was naked before you. Your mouth went dry. He was big. You could tell just by looking at him that he would stretch you good and you wanted so badly for him to pin you down and have his way with you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Really? Cause that would be really helpful on days when I’m home alone-”

“Wha-no!”

You chuckled and lay down on your back, making sure that your legs were spread wide for him to have his fill. Like a moth to a flame, he was between your thighs, his tongue licking at the wet fabric.

He moaned against your covered lips, sucking up the arousal that clung to your underwear.

“Fuck, Yoongi yes,” you said without meaning to say much at all. You unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere in the room. You could look for it later. This caught his attention. He thrust his naked dick into the mattress, needing some sort of stimulation.

“Damn it… fuck, if I wasn’t so desperate to be inside you, I swear I could get you off with just my mouth all day, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off, gesturing for him to come up to your face, he did so without question, “Hurry up, I’m dying. Please.”

“Are you begging?” Yoongi’s lips curled lightly, teasingly,

“Do you want to get your dick wet or not?” He kissed the wrinkle between your eyebrows lightly.

“Yeah, can I take these off?” he hooked a finger on the elastic of your thong, pulling it a little higher than he probably should have. It was an old pair. You heard rather than saw the stitching on it pull apart and then the thing was hanging limply from Yoongi’s fingers, his expression shocked.

“Yoongi!”

“What? I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“For fuck’s sake! That was my favorite thong!”

“Well, clearly it was cheap,” he countered, throwing it across the room somewhere too.

You groaned, shifting slightly under him. His dick nuzzled between your wet lips. His mouth dropped open and a pleasured grunt escaped his lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rut against your wetness, hitting your clit lightly, far too lightly, “you are so wet. God, this should be illegal.”

“Y-Yoongi… more,” he reached down between you two and found your sensitive nub without much hassle. It was like he knew your body already. Your body twitched under him and he circled the bundle of nerves for a couple of seconds. The noises falling from your lips were heaven on earth and Yoongi realized you were his new favorite song.

He gave your clit one rough stroke, ripping a small gasp from your throat. He gathered some of your slick with two practiced fingers and brought it up to eye level. It caught the low light of his room from the window, the smell enough to threaten to send him over the edge.

“Jesus Christ that’s hot.” Then he smeared it all over his penis and gave himself two rough pumps.

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking-”

“Don’t care. Just do it. Yes.” You said angrily, pulling him closer and closer, his toned chest flush against yours.

“Have you been working out?” You asked, breaking the intense way he was staring into your eyes, his smile pulled wide over his gums.

He shrugged but clearly was glad that you’d noticed, “Namjoon and Jungkook convinced me to join them in the gym. It’s no big deal.”

“But your arms,” you complimented, squeezing his bicep. He flexed it lightly for you. You blushed when you realized exactly what you were doing.

“It’s just a little muscle,” he commented offhandedly.

The conversation lulled, he smiled down at you, and you up at him. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“So can I put it i-”

“I already said yes.”

“In your ass?”

“Ew no!”

Yoongi laughed loudly, “see this is why you can’t say yes to something without knowing what you’re agreeing to.”

“Shut up and put it in the right hole,” you groaned, then for good measure, “oppa.” It was a joke. You thought it was a joke, but something lit up in his pupils as two measly syllables rolled off your tongue and hit his eardrums. You felt his skin prickle under your touch and his member twitched against your folds.

Like a deer caught in headlights, you looked up at the handsome man. His eyes had narrowed as well as darkened. He looked absolutely ravenous and you wanted him to eat you up.

“Say that again.” He commanded as he pushed the head of his massive, and now that you could properly feel it, you knew that you had been right, cock at the entrance of your lower lips.

“O-oppa?” you questioned, astounded that the simple word that he’d no doubt heard his whole life had this effect on him.

“That’s right yeo-chin,” he growled, his voice gruff and harsh as he pushed lightly into you. His dick opened you painfully, perfectly.

“Yeo-chin?” You ask through the explosion of pleasure between your thighs.

“Is that okay?” He asked, suddenly looking really vulnerable and scared. You reached up, stroking his cheek lightly with your knuckles.

“Oh honey,” you trailed off, bumping his nose against yours before you pulled back abruptly, “If you want me to be your girlfriend, you have to ask me properly.”

Yoongi sighed, his smile telling you he expected as much and wasn’t hurt, “Talk after?” He asked again.

“As much as you want,” you reiterated.

And then he was pushing into you once again, surprising you because you could have sworn you had been full before but inch after inch, he pushed into your awaiting hole, filling all the emptiness you’d felt your whole life until his balls tapped your ass softly.

His face was contorted in pure ecstasy. At least from your perspective. Yoongi, in all truth, was trying his hardest not to blow his load into you already. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was inside you. He’d waited his whole life for this and he was finally inside you.

You wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and playfully licked his lips. He grunted against you, holding himself up by the forearms. Suddenly, he was really grateful that he had started to work out and that Jungkook had him doing three minute planks for fun. He’d have to thank him later, even if he did complain a whole lot.

“Can-can I move?” Yoongi gasped. Your walls fluttered around his member as if welcoming it home with soft caresses. You were so warm, maybe hot, he wasn’t sure, but you were tight and wet and all the good things in the world.

You only breathed, feeling so unbelievably full. It felt like he had pushed in all the way to your throat. You were no size queen, really, you weren’t, but if this is what they were going on about, you understood.

“Y/N,” he panted, his body begging him to move, “please.”

“Are-are you begging?” You giggled mirroring what he’d asked you before.

“Yes.” Without hesitation, he admitted, “Please… please…”

Well fuck. How could you say no? You nodded fervently, all mirth erased from your expression as he pulled out slowly, your juices squelched as your lower muscles tried to keep him in.

“Gah- ash-Y/N… you’re so tight.”

You only moaned in response, the head of his cock was still in you, stretching you to the point you didn’t think anyone could fully make you feel this way again.

“You’re so big,” you complimented scratching at his back. His muscles rippled under your touch.

He pushed back in, still torturously slow. It felt like you were being split in half. You felt like Olaf in the first frozen movie after he got stabbed by an icicle.

“Yoongi,” you gasped as he pulled out again at the same speed, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Oppa,” he growled into your ear, kissing roughly at your skin.

“Oppa,” you agreed, though it wasn’t your favorite word, he seemed to be getting of fairly

well so you let it slide, “move faster.”

“You sure?” He asked.

You nodded, knowing it was probably going to hurt but you wanted to feel him and you wanted him to cum.

“Yes.”

He didn’t need to be told again; he drew back, once again leaving only the mushroom tip inside you once again, and then he thrust. Hard. You nearly choked as he pumped himself over and over again hitting the nerves in your vagina. The slap of skin against yours was loud in the empty room, only accompanied by your moans and his pants and grunts. Your names mixed in every once in a while, your lips kissing any and all the skin that you could possibly reach. He licked at your lips and sucked bruises onto your neck, your chest. He wanted to mark all of you. He wanted to make sure you knew who you belonged to… as soon as he asked you right after he finished up.

This idea itself spurred him on, to thrust faster, deeper. He wanted to finish and make sure that you finished too, not quickly but soon. He wanted to talk. He wanted to make sure that you were in the same place.

So he reached between you both again, his fingers blindly found your clitoris and began to rub abstract shapes into it. Your back arched off the bed, your hair and boobs bounced with each thrust, his balls slapping against your ass. You were seeing white, your mouth wide open in a silent ‘o’. You were so close. So so close.

“Come, Yeo-chin,” he whispered against your temple, and though you weren’t technically his, the title sent you over the edge along with his fingers and the deep thrusts that hit your cervix.

“Oppa,” you groaned, your face screwed up.

That did it for Yoongi. His fingers on your clit stuttered along with his hips. His thrusts became erratic and he hit the sides of your walls. You squeezed around him as he over stimulated you through your orgasm.

“One more time… say it one more time,” he begged.

You complied, whispering it into his ear, it was cut slightly by a particularly pleasurable thrust. Yoongi felt pure euphoria fill his blood as his hips paused, then buried deep into your hole. Ropes of hot cum shot into you, filling you.

Yoongi panted heavily over you, his head resting on your shoulder as he struggled to keep himself up. You were breathing heavily as well, your nipples brushed against his chest. You were sensitive. You hissed.

“You can lay down,” the words had barely left your lips before he had let his weight settle on top of you. A smile crossed your face as his hands tangled in your hair and stroked it lightly. You wrapped him up in a hug, wanting him to stay like this for a while. It was nice to feel him so close.

After a couple of minutes of both of you just recovering and your breathing getting much harder, like a wrestler, you tapped Yoongi twice.

“I’m out,” you joked, “can’t breathe.”

With what looked like a lot of effort, he pushed himself up and off you, pulling out of your suddenly. The cum inside of your vagina gushed out.

You made a face as you felt it drip onto his sheets. Yoongi watched it ooze out of you, not really caring where it was going. He looked mesmerized. He reached out as if to swipe at the cum on your lower lips but you grabbed his wrist before he could.

“We talk now,” you sighed, a bit calmer than before but still a bit worried.

“Now?” He looked so vulnerable again, like he was a scared child. He lay on his side, resting his head on his elbow. He looked down at you, waiting for you to take the reins, the way you always did but this time, you didn’t know where to begin.

Yoongi cleared his throat looking around uncomfortably. When you said nothing, his mind had started to race.

“So… do you… want to be my girlfriend, or are we friends with benefits level right now? Ow!”

You’d smacked his shoulder, not hard at all but he was dramatic and you knew that. He frowned at you, his lips tempting you into another kiss that could lead to something more once again. You were already feeling a little turned on again just looking at the results of his recent gym trips.

“So no to yeo-chin then?”

“Yoongi!”

“Don’t you mean Oppa?”

You smiled up at him, a teasing glint in your gaze, “I didn’t know you had an oppa kink. This whole time, I was right to refuse to call you oppa. I knew you looked way too happy whenever I called you that!”

Yoongi scrunched his nose and looked away, “I don’t! It’s just… when you say it.” He admitted waving a hand as if to bat away your inquisitive and teasing stare.

Not really knowing how to answer that, you chose instead to answer his previous question.

“Nam-chin,” you ran a finger down the center of his pecks, tracing all the light visible muscles that made you want to get off on just riding his chest. Yoongi tensed under your touch. He seemed frozen.

“Did you just call me nam-chin?” You, for once, were not embarrassed. You smiled brightly, happy that the title finally had a head to sit on.

“Is that okay?”

Yoongi pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his heart beat erratically in his chest, singing to yours. To its credit, your heart synced and harmonized almost instantly. He smelled like pure sex and fresh water. He buried your face into his bare skin, listening to his song. After all these years, after all the tiptoeing and fear, you were finally where you belonged.

“Of course it is,” he paused, kissing the top of your head a couple of times, “yeo-chin.” This time, the word made a shiver roll down your spine. Arousal began to pool between your sticky thighs once more and if the third leg on your stomach was anything to go by, he was as well.

“Can- can we take a shower?” you asked him, biting your lips and pushing your chest against his suggestively.

He smirked, his mouth watered at the thought of taking you in the shower. He could almost hear your moans echoing in his wet room as he sat you down and ate you out until the water ran cold. Easy clean up even.

“Yes.” he breathed, connecting his lips to yours. You kissed for a while, your lips meshing together lovingly. Yoongi was a good kisser, you realized. He was a good lay as well. And he was cute to boot. Suddenly, he pulled away and picked you up bridal style and walked you to his restroom. He once again kicked the door open to avoid using his hands and walked you through, but this time instead of throwing you down, he set you on the toilet, him on his knees between your pushed open legs.

“I hope you don’t have any plans,” he said, kissing up your thighs and pulling you close to the edge, “because I have all the time in the world and I’m really, really thirsty.”

He ran two fingers over your abused center, collecting his cum and your new arousal. Sure, there were still a lot of things to talk about between you two. Yoongi still wasn’t sure if you fully understood the depth of his feelings nor was he sure if you simply liked him and the slip of the L-word was nothing more than that. A slip. But like he’d said, he had all the time in the world to ask and all the time to make sure he earned you and your trust. He would do anything he could to prove it and some day he would be.

But for now, he was royally fucked by the sinful sounds that escaped your pretty lips and he wanted nothing more than to just enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist -in case you want to read more....

I hope yall enjoyed it and that this is a good come back after our roast session from permission to dance:)

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aizawaorkuroo · 4 years ago

Text

Seek the Light

Ship: Ukai Keishin x f!reader

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 8.4K

Summary: Back home after losing your job, you wander into a convenience store not realizing you would see a familiar face.

Warnings: Young Ukai’s a bitch, Language, Biting, Vaginal Fingering, Size Kink (I know this man has a bick dick I know he does), Overstimulation, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Dom!Ukai

AN: first haikyuu fic haha and first time writing ukai so im still figuring it out! This one got away from me gsfda and the conflict resolved easily cause its my fic and i make the rules tgerfw

________________________

The dipping summer sun casts shadows across the buildings, while painting the clouds a pretty gold. Memories of childhood and youth flood into you, creating a fondness in your heart. Yes, Miyagi was nice. It would be nicer if you didn’t have to move back home after losing your job in Tokyo. You can tell yourself it’s temporary all you want, but it’s embarrassing. Failing is embarrassing.

You sigh, realizing you should probably head back home before it gets too dark. Despite the setting sun, the air has yet to cool off, and you find that your walk has left your throat parched. You glance around, smiling as you spot a convenience store. Nice.

You smile as the air conditioning hits your skin. You make a beeline for a bottled tea, already excited for the refreshing taste. You hum happily as your eyes tilt up to the man behind the register. His eyes are glued to an issue of something, and a cigarette dangles from his lips. Ukai Keishin.

You feel your heart stutter as you watch your best friend from high school read. His hair is long and blonde now, and it just makes sense. He’s handsome, you realize. You always thought he was cute in high school, but he’s a man now.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, drawing the gaze of the man sitting behind the counter. His eyes widen, recognition clear as day in them.

“Y/N?” His voice is unusually quiet, and his eyes bore into yours, as if you would disappear again if he looked away. Guilt swells uncomfortably in your stomach. You hadn’t talked to him in years. You moved away, and you lost touch with your high school friends, including him. Especially him. He slowly stands to look at you, putting what he was reading down and shoving his cigarette into an ashtray.

Yes, you had been gone for awhile, and yes, the two of you hadn’t talked. But you were both here now, and a second chance has been given to you, wrapped up like a present in the form of a stunned employee at a convenience store.

“Ukai! I forgot this was your mom’s place!” you yell excitedly, rushing behind the counter to trap him in a tight hug. He huffs against you, tensing, before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His words stir something hot and sticky in you, and you push away from him, sheepishly smiling.

“I lost my job and couldn’t find another one in time, and uh, here I am.” Your nose scrunches up at the thought of your tiny, Tokyo apartment that you would never return to.

“No shit, huh? Are you back with your parents?” Your shoulders sag and you nod, pursing your lips.

“Yea, but what have you been up to?” you ask, eager to learn more about your old friend.

“Y’know, working here, hanging out with Shimada and Takinoue. I’ve also been coaching Karasuno’s volleyball team. They’ll sometimes stop by.”

“Oh that’s absolutely perfect,” you laugh. “My volleyball boys never grew up, huh?” He rolls his eyes at you, crossing his arms in feigned annoyance. You hold your hands up in peace, trying to suppress the giggle that’s bubbling in your chest.

“Well, you clearly grew up,” you offer, letting your eyes trail over him. His eyes widen again, and a faint blush covers his cheeks, so soft you almost don’t notice it. “But you’re still reading the same shit.” He lightly punches your arm, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Anyways, the four of us should get dinner sometime.” You cock your head to the side, trying to gauge his reaction. He snorts and rolls his eyes at you, but there’s a small smile on his face. That's promising, you muse to yourself.

“Yea, that sounds good. And I’m sure Shimada and Takinoue will say yes. I can text you when we’re able to.” He pauses, and his eyes drop to the ground. Your stomach twists into knots as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “Is your number still the same?” It’s an innocent question, and yet you feel like the floor has dropped from beneath you, leaving you unbalanced.

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur, feeling guilty when he nods and presses his lips into a thin line.

“It was good seeing you, Y/N. I’ll text you.” You nod, slowly backing up to the door. You give him a small wave before pushing the door open, stepping back out into the warm air. Your body moves on autopilot while your brain goes into overdrive as you ponder how you can properly mend the bridge between you two.

It’s only when you’re halfway home that you realize you forgot your tea.

________________________

When Ukai texts you, you can’t help but to cringe at the past messages that were left unanswered. Random little texts, asking about your day, how’s Tokyo, updating you on everyone back home. You had meant to answer them, but you just couldn’t. You could pinpoint the moment you stopped answering his messages, and you shudder, remembering how harsh he had sounded over the phone. Not that you had been any kinder. After that night, his texts trickled in slower and slower, until they ended completely.

You inhale sharply, closing your eyes. But you’re back now, and he’s texting you again. You blink your eyes open, rereading his message.

Hey! How does Saturday at 8 work?

Taking a shaky breath you quickly type out a response that you hope isn’t too eager.

That sounds great! Is that one place with the great hiyashi chuka place still open?

The four of you used to eat there in the summertime, feasting on cold ramen and an assortment of toppings. Takinoue used to flirt with the waitress, who remained unimpressed throughout the years. You smile fondly at the memory, excited to see everyone again. Your phone vibrates, pulling you from your thoughts.

Yea and it’s still the only hiyashi chuka place in town

You hum at his message, thinking of how long the four of you used to wait while the summer sun blazed down, and sometimes Kimi would go with you. She had a massive crush on Shimada, one that left her helpless to your and Takinoue’s teasing. Your phone buzzes again, and you look down, slightly surprised at the second message.

I’m excited to see you again.

That was promising indeed.

And yet you can’t help the way butterflies terrorize your stomach as you stand outside the old restaurant. Part of you wants to turn around and walk home; another part of you wants to throw up. You inhale sharply, steeling yourself, and you walk through the door.

It’s just like you remember, and you feel more at ease. You know this place, and these are your friends. There was no reason to worry. But still…

Your eyes flash across the room, before zeroing in on your usual table. You grin widely at Takinoue who is waving you down. Shimada sits next to him, smiling softly as you approach. Immediately, Takinoue gives you a bear hug, making you giggle.

“It’s been way too long,” he whines before letting you go. Shimada rolls his eyes, offering you a small wave. You slip into the empty seat next to Ukai, greeting him quietly. He nods, a small smirk tugging at his lips. The nerves that had been eating away at you dissipate immediately. The conversation flows easy, as if you never left. And when the hiyashi chuka is brought out, your mouth waters just like it used to.

“I’m telling you, it’s not as good anywhere else,” you bemoan. Shimada laughs at that, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I think that’s nostalgia talking.” You stick your tongue out before shoveling noodles back into your mouth. Ukai snorts, before taking a sip of his beer. Something warm and soft builds up in your heart, spilling out into your entire body.

Happily full of noodles, you settle back against your chair, trying to ignore the way Ukai’s arm rests against the back of your chair. His touch is feather light, but the warmth seeps into you. You missed this, you missed this, you missed him.

When the four of you are standing outside, you shift on your feet, not wanting to have to say goodbye again.

“We should get drinks sometime,” you say to no one in particular. Takinoue slings an arm over your shoulder and his grin is so wide that alone almost makes you laugh.

“Ah yeah! Now you’re talking, Y/N!”

“That is something we can all do together now,” Ukai mumbles, fishing out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket.

“Then it’s settled,” you chirp happily, “We’ll meet up for drinks next weekend, if that’s okay with you guys.” Ukai’s eyebrows pinch together in thought, and he slowly nods.

“That should work.” You pull away from Takinoue, choosing to wrap an arm around Ukai’s waist, and pulling yourself flush against him.

“Perfect! It’ll be nice to get out of the house before I move into my new apartment.” Ukai rolls his eyes, but drapes his arm across your shoulders anyways. You try not to notice the way his thumb lightly strokes your arm.

________________________

The lights in the bar are dim, and you’re sipping on a lemon sour, nestled into the booth next to Ukai. Beers litter the table, as well as small dishes of food, and some shots you all have yet to drink. Takinoue’s cackle barrels through the air as you offer up another idea.

“No, I’m serious! We could all get dinner! I’m sure my parents would be happy to see you guys again.” Ukai scoffs, crossing his arms and fixing you with a pointed look.

“Please, your parents hate us,” he grumbles. A laugh bubbles through you, and you shake your head.

“They did not!” you promise, but your words sound hollow even to yourself.

Takinoue’s eyebrow quirks up in disbelief. Your lips twist into a grimace, memories of your parents looking tired whenever the boys dropped you off at home. “Okay, maybe they did, but ONLY when my grades would start slipping.” Shimada nods at your words.

“Yea, that sounds right,” he says solemnly. You pout at his calm and unsurprised tone.

“I promise they loved you guys. Just like I know your granddad loved me,” you giggle, poking at Ukai’s side. He rolls his eyes, and he downs his shot.

“Please, like that man likes anyone,” he grumbles. You stick your tongue out at him, and punch his arm lightly.

“Alright, but I got you through high school, so he has to like me” you counter, mouth twisting into a smirk. Ukai glares at you, memories of late night study sessions, and rushed homework help before class flood his mind. His shoulders sag, and he lets out a sigh.

“That’s fair I guess. Gotta piss. I’ll be back.” He pushes out of the booth, leaving you with Takinoue and Shimada. Shimada smiles softly, before fixing his gaze on you.

“Kimi was in Tokyo too, right? Have you seen her at all?” he asks. You grin, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yea, we actually got lunch the day before I moved.” You pause, eyeing him carefully before continuing. “Shimada, did you know she had the biggest crush on you in high school?” He blushes a bright crimson, choking on his drink as Takinoue cackles.

“Yea, dumbass. It was obvious.” Shimada glares at him, nursing his beer.

“Well, I clearly didn’t know. And no one thought to tell me?” You shrugged, shooting him an apologetic smile. Takinoue punches him arm affectionately, before his eyes settle on you, full of humor and mirth.

“Speaking of crushes, I was wondering how Ukai would be since you got back,” Takinoue laughs.

“What?” Despite the drinks you’ve had, you feel sober, something cold slinking down your back.

“He was head over heels for you back in the day,” Takinoue’s laughs die down, but he doesn’t seem to notice the way you freeze. Shimada, on the other hand, does, and he cocks his head to the side, monitoring your response.

You sputter, words locked in your throat. What they hopefully don’t know is that you had a massive crush on him too, and it’s only resurfaced violently since seeing him again. Even after what had happened. And yet that cold feeling heats up into something syrupy in the pit of your stomach.

“Well that’s news to me,” you say softly. “Guess I fucked it all up, huh?” Shimada and Takinoue exchange a glance, and you’re sure one of them is gonna say something, but when Ukai slips back into the booth that door shuts, locking their words on the other side.

“What’d you fuck up?” he asks, taking a swig of the beer he had left on the table.

“Ah you know, the usual. My life in Tokyo. And now I’m back with my parents. I did find a job though.” Shimada’s brows furrow, but he says nothing. Ukai hums, his thigh jostling against yours.

“Aren't you at your new place yet?” Your face twists in annoyance, and your head hits the back of the booth.

“I’m gonna have to stay with my parents for a few more days because a pipe apparently burst in my apartment. But I’m going to lose it. I can’t live with them anymore. Not at my age…” you trail off, lost in your thoughts.

“Stay with me. Until you can move in.”

Ukai’s voice cuts through the noisy bar, and you open your mouth stupidly, no words coming out. He stares back at you, making the butterflies that had been dormant for awhile snap back to life inside of you. He scratches at the side of his face, making pathetic attempts to backtrack. “I mean you don’t have to, and I won’t be there for a bit cause of training camp-”

“No, that sounds good.” You nod at him, an easy smile spreading across your face. “Yea, that sounds good.” His eyes lock onto yours, something dark and undefinable in them. Neither of you notice the coy look Shimada and Takinoue share.

________________________

The hot water streams around you, and you shut your eyes, relishing the way it feels on your skin. You had a long day at your new job, and the approaching weekend was the only thing keeping you going. Well, that and the fact that you were currently in Ukai’s shower.

He had been kind enough to offer you a place to stay, and already your thoughts are starting to drift to darker places. You had harbored a crush on him when you were younger, but you haven’t seen him in years. And yet the way he looked at you made your stomach drop.

You turn the water off, the cold air plucking at your skin and making you shiver. You wrap a towel around yourself, and dry off quickly, trying to forget about the ache in between your legs. It doesn’t work, but you pull on a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt anyways. You could at least pretend it worked.

Ukai’s apartment was exactly what you expected. The walls were littered with posters, books lay all over the ground, and there was a volleyball by the TV. He had rubbed the back of his neck, almost embarrassed when you first got there.

“It’s, uh, not much. Probably should’ve thought about that before I offered, but make yourself at home,” he mutters.

You had reassured him it was more than enough. You were just grateful to be out of your parents' house. You pad over to his spot near the tv, kneeling next to him. He eyes you from his peripheral, not looking directly at you. Nonetheless, it makes you shiver.

“Where should I sleep?” you ask, playing with the hem of his shirt. He nods his head back to the bed, and you flush.

“I can’t take your bed,” you sputter, stomach flipping. He rolls his eyes, a sharp smirk pulling at his lips.

“I gotta leave in the middle of the fucking night for training camp, remember? Take the bed.” His tone leaves no room for any argument, and you nod shyly, before shuffling over to his bed. He refocuses on the game he was watching as you pull the covers around you.

But you can’t sleep. Not when Ukai is so close to you. You flip onto your stomach and huff. He glances at you from over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. He shifts to the side, allowing you to watch the game from your vantage point.

You recognize the Karasuno uniforms, and something syrupy and nostalgic floods your veins. This must be the new team. The two of you stay quiet, the two of you lost in your own thoughts.

It’s only when the noise from the TV stops that you’re jolted back to reality. Ukai’s hand grips the remote tightly, face screwed up unpleasantly.

“Why did you stop talking to me?”

The words ring around his apartment, crystalizing into the air, becoming frigid and uncomfortable. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting your head rest against his pillow. When you open them again, he’s turned towards you, brows pinched and mouth twisted into a grimace.

“I didn’t-” you cut yourself off, pushing yourself up to your knees. “I didn’t mean to.” You hold a hand up to him, stopping his oncoming argument. “I wanted to, and I wanted to pretend like everything was okay, but how could I?” His frown deepens, but he stays silent, memories seeping uncomfortably into the air.

“Keishin,” you hissed into the phone. “Let it go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? How could you be so stupid?” Your stomach drops at his words, but more than anything, you’re upset.

“I am not the stupid one. I’m the one who made it out of Miyagi. I’m the one who’s going to college.” You hear him inhale sharply, and you can practically imagine the way his eyes are narrowed right now.

“Right, right, right. And you’re also the one who’s sleeping with some asshole, who is way too old for you, and he’s just gonna forget you once he’s bored! If that’s not what a stupid little girl does, you tell me what it is! I’m trying to watch out for you!” he practically yells. You feel the oncoming tears sting the back of your eyes, but there’s something red-hot pushing you forward.

“Fuck you, Ukai. I actually found someone who likes me for once, you have to ruin it. I’m not a kid. You don’t know shit about my life here, and you hate it. If you cared so much, you could’ve asked me to stay. Fuck you.” He swears angrily at you, before the line drops. You stare at your phone, waves of nausea passing over you.

A week later he sends you a text, complaining about his grandfather, and telling you about something stupid Takinoue did. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. His texts eventually slowed down, until he didn’t text you at all.

You shudder slightly at the memory, letting your eyes drop to the floor.

“You acted like nothing had happened, but I was still mad, and by the time I had calmed down, I thought you would hate me for not talking to you.” You wrap your arms around yourself, chewing on your lip. “And you were right by the way, about that guy,” you spit out. “The second someone prettier came along, he dropped me.”

When you flick your eyes up, Ukai’s jaw is tense, his brows furrowed. You dig your nails into your arm, inhaling sharply.

“Fuck, I wish I had been wrong,” he seethes. Your eyes widen, not expecting him to say that. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what you had expected him to say. “You deserve the world, Y/N. More than that piece of shit. More than Miyagi.” His words are colored with bitterness that makes your stomach curdle.

“That’s why I could never ask you to stay. You were supposed to get out of here.” Ukai’s gaze bores into you, the intensity of it giving you whiplash. Your heart melts at his words, and you can’t help but to feel regret for not trying to work things out back in the day.

“And I ended up back here anyways,” you mutter.

“Well, Miyagi has some perks,” he laughs, an easy smirk tugging at his mouth. You cock your head to the side, snorting in disbelief.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“It’s got you now,” Ukai says lazily, while stretching his arms above his head.

Your heart swells in your chest, and you lunge towards him, wrapping your arms around him. He’s tense beneath you, but relaxes under your soft touches.

“I missed you, Kei,” you say gently. His arms drop to hold you to him, eyes closing as he basks in your attention.

“I’m sorry for what happened, and I’m sorry I tried to pretend like nothing happened. I’m pissed that you weren’t in my life, but that was my fault. And now that you’re here...don’t think you’re escaping that easy again.” You nod, and something hot stings the back of your eyes.

“I’m not,” you say gently. “I’m not gonna disappear again. I promise. You’re my best friend, Keishin. I missed you.”

“Okay. Now get some sleep.” His arms loosen around you, and you slump away from him. As you shift back into the bed, Ukai faces the TV, playing it and lowering the volume until it’s just white noise to your sleepy mind. With that, you lie down again, letting your eyes shut and the warmth of sleep overtake you.

Ukai is drawn back into the game, but your words linger in the air. You’re my best friend, Keishin. I missed you. He glances back at you, bitterness eating away at his stomach. He wants to be more than just your best friend.

He fixes his gaze on the TV, trying to shove those thoughts somewhere deep and dark. Eventually, when he looks at the time, he scowls realizing he’s gotta head out now. Letting out a sigh, he turns to face you again.

His heart tugs at how you’re curled up in his bed so sweetly. Guilt settles in his stomach at the thought of waking you at this hour, but he had to make sure you would be okay. His hand hovers above your shoulder, and he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. You belong here. With him. He shakes his head, banishing the thought. Ukai gently shakes you, watching as you rub your eyes and blink sluggishly at him.

“Sorry to wake you, but I’m heading out for the camp now. The keys are on the counter. Stay as long as you need to, just make sure to lock up.” You hum at his words, nestling back into his pillow and shutting your eyes.

“Okay, Keishin. Love you. Have fun,” you murmur, before drifting back to sleep. He inhales sharply, eyes boring into your sleeping face. He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. You probably wouldn’t even remember you said that when you woke up. And yet…

Ukai shifts on his knees closer to your sleeping form. He ducks down, letting his lips hover over your forehead. He gently kisses your temple, while simultaneously trying to squash the warm feelings that flow through him. He pulls away quickly, the small peck only lasting a second or two, but his lips burn now, and all he wants to do is curl around you and hold you in his arms.

The thought rushes through him like cold water, and he straightens away from you, trying to ignore the way his heart thuds. Ukai’s lips twist into a frown, and he rises, grabbing his bag and quietly walking out the door.

________________________

The next few days are quiet as you go to work. It feels weird to stay at Ukai’s by yourself, but you have to admit that a weight has been lifted since the first night. It was like you could finally move forward in your friendship, the guilt evaporating and letting you fall back into a normal crush.

The evening you’re able to move into your apartment, it’s windier than you thought it would be. You didn’t mean to steal one of his hoodies, but you know he has a few pairs of the orange one. You had seen them in his closet. You slip the orange hoodie on, clutching the fabric to you. It’s warm, enough to protect you from the unusually powerful wind. You shut your eyes and take a deep breath; it smells like him. The thought makes you shudder.

You keep the hoodie on, promising to leave it in Ukai's apartment when you make your last trip in between. But when the moment comes, you can’t bring yourself to take the garment off. When you slip into bed in an unfamiliar place that night, his hoodie brings you comfort. As your eyes shut, you promised that you would return it the next day, when he texted you for his key.

Except you didn’t. You held onto his hoodie for two weeks. By the time you return it, it has already stopped smelling like him. And now, Ukai’s blinking at you from the doorframe of his apartment, confusion pulling at his eyebrows.

His hair is wet, hanging limply against his head, his normal headband nowhere to be seen. A towel hangs around his neck, and there’s an unlit cigarette in between his lips. You blink up at him blankly, trying to resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He cocks his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face curiously.

“I, um, came to drop this off.” You hold his hoodie to your chest, clutching it tightly in your hands. “But I probably should’ve told you I was coming.” His gaze is glued to the garment your holding, and the silence hangs in between you. Ukai flicks his eyes back to yours, something deep and dark brewing in them. You shift nervously under his gaze, opening your mouth as you hesitantly explain yourself.

“I borrowed it. When I was staying here. Just took me a while to drop it back off,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed.

“Keep it.” His voice is warm and steady in the air, making your spine tingle. Your hands drop from your chest, hoodie still clenched tightly.

“Oh. Okay.” Your mouth feels heavy, the words sticking to your tongue like molasses. “I guess I’ll head home. Thanks.” You start to turn away, when his hand shoots out, latching onto your wrist.

“You just got here.” His touch stings you, burning into your skin in a way that makes you crave more. You slowly, and weakly, you nod at him, letting him guide you inside his apartment.

“So you borrowed my hoodie, huh?” He smirks at you, eyes gleaming at the way you nervously sit at the edge of his futon.

“Yea, I was running out the door and it was colder than I thought, so I just grabbed it.” Your hands grip the fabric tightly, before you put the hoodie on the bed next to you. Ukai cocks his head to the side, his sharp smirk never leaving his face. “But it took me a while to return because, well…” He flops down onto the ground in front of you, resting his chin in his hand.

“Because it smelled like you,” you mumble, feeling butterflies slip into your veins. Ukai’s eyes widen for a split second, and he plucks the unlit cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the side.

“Huh, no shit.” His words are colored in disbelief, but his gaze is unwavering, sending a small shiver down your spine. He shifts forward, pushing into your personal space until his face is right in front of yours.

“If I’m reading this wrong, you gotta let me know.” The frail dam that had been holding your emotions in place splinters, leaving your mind reeling. But one thing was sure: it was impossible to deny how you felt.

“You’re not,” you manage to sputter out. “You’re not reading it wrong.” He hums in satisfaction, eyes trailing over your face.

Ukai surges forward, and his lips are warm and rough against yours, and he steals your breath away immediately. A hand gently holds your face to his, the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him. Tentatively, you twist your fingers into his hair, and he groans against you. He pulls away from your lips, leaving you chasing after him. He pants against you, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Been wanting to do this for years,” he mutters, looking at you intensely.

“What took you so long?” He rolls his eyes, leaving sharp kisses down your neck.

“Too scared that I would push you away, and I did that anyways.” You pout at his words, tugging him up by his hair.

“I’m not going away again, and there’s nothing you could do to make me” you murmur, leaning forward to kiss him. His tongue prods at your lips, and you open your mouth obediently, letting him explore. Ukai’s hands are warm on your waist, squeezing the flesh that’s there. He pulls you onto his lap, shifting his legs under you so you’re flush against him.

“You good?” you ask in between kisses, scratching his scalp. His hips rock against you, and he pulls back to smirk at you.

“I’m more than good, baby.” Grinning, you meet his mouth again, letting your hips grind against him. His warm hands wander up and down your body, setting your skin on fire. They rest on your waist under your shirt, and his fingers tap at the flesh there. You hum happily, before leaning away and pulling off your shirt and tossing it behind you. Ukai freezes, eyes hungrily taking in the newly exposed skin. You flush as his hands start to trail upwards, ghosting over your skin.

You dip forward to kiss him again, and his hands reach around to fumble with your bra. You smile against his lips as he struggles, but the second it’s off, his hands are kneading your breasts.

“What are you smiling about?” he mutters against your lips, before pinching one of your nipples. You pull back and inhale sharply, biting your lip before tugging at his shirt.

“Not fair that yours is still on, Keishin,” you whine. He rolls his eyes, and pushes you off of his lap, letting you fall against the futon. Ukai strips quickly, a sharp grin on his face making you flush. He crawls forward, caging you in between his arms. His hips settle in between your thighs, and you can feel his erection through his boxers.

When he looks at you, his hair flops down. You lift your hand, running your fingers through it. He leans into your touch, grinning before bending down to kiss you. His lips are warm against you, and he doesn’t waste any time, attacking your jawline and neck with sharp, biting kisses. You card your hands through his hair, eyes fluttering shut. His kisses switch into something more intense, and you gasp, eyes fluttering open as small bites litter your neck.

“Ukai,” you moan, fingers tightening in his hair. He leaves little marks until he reaches your chest. His tongue swirls around a nipple, fingers pinching the other. The small sparks of pleasure go straight to your pussy, and your hips shift underneath Ukai, making him groan.

His mouth is hot and relentless on you, and your nipples ache from the attention. His teeth lightly bite down on your breast, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make your eyes fly open.

“Keishin!” you squeal. He chuckles before letting his tongue run over were he just bit.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, not really meaning it, and he continues his path down. When he reaches the waist of your shorts, his eyes find yours, waiting. Biting the inside of your cheek, you shift your hips up, and Ukai grips the fabric, tugging down both your shorts and your underwear. His eyes focus on your exposed pussy, making note of how it’s already wet.

“Quit staring,” you complain, embarrassment flooding your system. He smirks down at you, using his finger to trail up and down your already soaking slit.

“So pretty and wet…” he mumbles. Your hips squirm underneath him, and his finger travels to circle your sensitive clit. You whine at the jolts of pleasure, making him smirk. His finger dips down, and he pushes it in gently. He thumbs at your clit, eyes flicking in between your face and your greedy pussy. Your tug at his hair, rotating your hips in time with his gentle thrusts.

“Keishin, more please,” you whine, making him chuckle. He slips another finger in, stretching you out. Your hands leave his hair to pinch at your nipples. Ukai’s head dips down to lightly bite the inside of your thigh, making you jolt. When he pushes in a third finger, you moan loudly, throwing your head back against the pillow. Something white-hot and foreboding pokes at the edges of your mind, threatening to spill over.

“I’m gonna cum, Kei,” you warn, eyes fluttering shut. His fingers curl inside of you, thumb still relentless on your clit.

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” His voice leaves no room for any argument, and you force them to open, watching as his fingers continue to pump into you. “Cum for me, baby.” He leans down again, eyes fixed on yours, and he bites the inside of your other thigh, and the pain combines with the pleasure, catapulting you over the edge.

You writhe and thrash against him, hips bucking up against his fingers. Ukai’s laugh fills the room, and he continues to move his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. When he finally pulls his hand away, you whimper from the loss. He presses a kiss to your hip before flipping you over.

You hear him shuffle, and you glance over your shoulder and see him kneeling behind you, boxers finally off. Excitement and arousal pool inside of you, and you squirm as his hands massage your ass.

“You’re big,” you murmur, making him laugh. He’s thick and long enough that you know it’ll feel good. But even then, you can’t help but wonder if he’ll actually fit. You flush facing forward again, but he leans down to press kisses to your spine.

“You good to keep going?” he asks in between each peck. You nod, letting your fingers dig into the sheets by your head.

“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” he groans, making you flush. His fingers dig into your ass, massaging the flesh. You squirm underneath him, feeling yourself get wetter under his touch. Ukai runs the head of his cock up and down your slit, and you inhale sharply, overcome with the desire to see his face.

“Wait!” you cry out, throwing an arm back to grab his arm. Immediately, he pulls away from you and freezes.

“What’s wrong are you okay? Do you wanna stop?” Panic colors his voice, and you shake your head before rolling over onto you back.

“I, uh, I just wanted to see you,” you mumble, feeling shy. Ukai barks out a laugh and smirks down at you, one of his hands moving to stroke your thigh affectionately.

“Fair enough. There’s always next time.” His predatory grin makes your cunt clench, and you reach up, gesturing for him to lean down. He cocks his head to the side, hair tilting with it.

“What is it you want?” You flush, letting your gaze go past his shoulder.

“A kiss.” His eyes light up, and he leans down, letting his lips ghost against yours. You push up, meeting his lips, and he chuckles. Ukai ruts his hips against you, letting his cock slide in between your soaking folds.

“Keishin, quit teasing me,” you whine. He rolls his eyes before pushing away, resting on his knees.

“Wanna watch your little pussy try to take me,” he explains, letting the head of his cock gently push into you. Your face contorts at the breach, and you wring your hands in the sheets. He whispers sweet words, eyes glued to your flutter pussy. He slowly rocks his hips forward, watching as he sinks in another inch.

You let out a choked moan, his slow movements emphasizing his size. His eyes snap up to your face, letting his hands squeeze your waist.

“Your sweet little cunt feels so good already,” he groans. Your hands tug at the sheets as you try not to squirm. But it feels nearly impossible with how red-hot his cock feels inside of you.

You preen under Ukai’s attention, his hands massaging your flesh as your pussy tries to relax around his thick length.

“So hot and tight.” His words shake as his eyes trail down your body to watch your pussy split around him as he inches in.

“You’re too big,” you keen, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes at the intense stretch, and nonetheless, the thought adds fuel to the fire in your belly, and your pussy clenches down harder on his cock. His thumb strokes delicate circles into your hip, and he smirks down at you.

“Yea, and the thought has you squeezing around my cock, huh? That’s pretty messed up.” You flush at his words, embarrassment coursing through your veins. You turn your head to the side, wanting to escape his intense gaze. Keishin leans forward, rocking his hips and pushing his cock slowly into you until he bottoms out. You let out a pathetic whine, covering your face with your hands

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he coos, batting at your hands, which flop above your head. “I think it’s cute how tight you are around me. I’m just too big? Is that it, baby?” You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you. He chuckles as you bury face into the crook of his neck. Tentatively, Ukai slowly pulls out, every ridge and vein dragging deliciously against your walls. When he pushes back in, you groan against his skin, and your hands travel up and down the smooth expanse of his back, your nails leaving red lines.

His hand snakes in-between the two of you, and a calloused finger expertly traces patterns onto your clit. You moan loudly, and your body writhes against him. Ukai pulls away from you, and a cruel grin sprawls out onto his face.

“Are you gonna cum? Already?” You nod, pathetically bucking your hips against him still. “We’ve barely started,” he taunts.

“I can’t help it,” you choke out, nerves feeling overwhelmed by sensations. He hums at your words, licking his lips as he eyes your body.

“Okay. It’s okay. Do you wanna be good for me?” he gently asks. You squirm beneath him, hands gripping his biceps, and you nod your head.

“I wanna be good for you, Keishin,” you cry out, the walls of your cunt fluttering around his thick cock. “I’ll be good for you.” His smirk slips into a softer smiler, and he leans forward, grinding his cock into you, and leaving sharp kisses against your neck.

“Then cum for me,” he murmurs against your neck, before shifting to lightly bite your shoulder. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you cant your hips against him, pussy fluttering around him. You grip his biceps tightly, orgasm overwhelming you.

“That’s it. Creaming so pretty on my dick,” Ukai whispers, watching your face contort in pleasure. He ruts into you, fingers still expertly teasing your clit, in an attempt to draw out your orgasm. Your eyes crack open, small tears leaking from your eyes.

“It’s too much, Kei,” you squeal, nails digging into his biceps as you try to squirm away from him. He tuts lightly at you, his hot tongue swiping along the delicate bite mark that’s on your shoulder.

“I thought you wanted to be good for me,” he rumbles. You nod, letting your eyes shut again. The fingers that were tortuously circling your clit slip away to pinch you’re inner thigh. “Look at me, baby.” You pry your eyes open and pant against him. His clever fingers continue their ministrations, and his hips grind deeper into you, making your brain feel foggy and warm.

“I wanna be good,” you mumble, hands leaving his biceps to tangle themselves into his hair. Ukai makes an approving sound, and he kisses your cheek.

“Cum. Again.” A pathetic cry tears itself from your throat, and you focus on the intense pleasure you’re feeling. Ukai leans down, littering your chest with little sharp bites that make you keen. Your brows pinch at the intense pleasure, hips grinding against him. You’re already close again, and you tug at his hair, urging him to kiss you again. His lips eagerly find yours, and you feel him smile against you. You’re so close to falling over that edge again. Your cunt is absolutely drenched, and the erotic squelching makes you flush.

Ukai’s tongue prods at your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, letting him in. It’s sloppy and desperate, and it’s perfect. His fingers dig into your clit, pinching it, and you are flung into the stratosphere, stars popping into your vision. You gush around his cock, and he groans against your lips.

Your thighs twitch, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him close to you, urging him to still. He complies, peppering your face with kisses as you come back to earth.

“So pretty,” he whispers against you. You card your fingers through his hair as you try to catch your breath.

“Oh my god, Keishin.” Your voice wavers, and you're embarrassed by how hoarse you sound.

“Want me to stop?” You shake your head desperately at his question, and your legs tighten around him.

“No. I just need a second.” He chuckles watching as your screws up. “I didn’t think I was that sensitive,” you sigh. You unlace your fingers from his hair, wiping at the sweat that’s on your neck.

Ukai smirks at you as he shifts to kneel. His warm hands gripping your waist, keeping you flushed against him. You whine at the movement, pussy tightening around him. His eyes trail over where he enters you, admiring how you’re spread out for him.

“Or, maybe my dick’s too big for you,” he taunts, no real malice behind his words. You squeak at his words, feeling embarrassed and warm. “Yea, that’s it,” he continues, fondly looking at your messy cunt. “You’re so sensitive cause it barely fits in your cunt,” he coos.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, lazily wrapping your legs around him. He lets out a laugh, one that resounds through the apartment, and you smile at him, something syrupy running through your head. “And I think-“

You cut yourself off, nerves overtaking you. His head cocks to the side, and his thumb strokes your waist in a reassuring manner.

“I’m balls deep in you. Don’t get shy on me now,” he says gently, his soft tone colliding with his crude words.

“You’re so vulgar, Keishin.” You roll your eyes at him, a soft smile creeping onto your face. “It could be that,” you say, not wanting to repeat his words, “but I also think I may be sensitive cause it’s you.”

Your voice is soft, and you watch as Ukai practically melts. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. You moan as your weight settles on him, increasing the pressure from his cock.

“Are you being serious right now?” His voice rumbles through you, and you bite your lip and nod. You press a palm to his cheek, relishing in the way he leans into it.

“There’s no one for me but you, Keishin.” Ukai kicks his legs out behind you, letting you get more comfortable on his lap. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and he buries his face into your neck. His hips buck up into you, making you squeal.

“Gonna fuck you so good. You’re never gonna be able to think about anyone but me inside this pussy.” He punctuates his words with a thrust, and your nails dig into his back. You rock your hips against him, as he sprinkles kisses against your neck.

“Ever since,” you pant, “ ever since I got back, all I’ve thought about is you. I missed you so much.” He moans into your neck, and his sweet kisses turn into little bites, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Did you touch yourself? Thinking about my fat cock pushing into you?” he mutters in between nips. Your brows pinch together and you nod as your exhausted pussy flutters again.

“Yes! But all I wanted was you!” Ukais teeth clamp down on your neck, not hard enough to break skin, but it stings. You squeal as he roughly changes positions again, forcing you on your back again, legs wrapped tightly around him.

His pace is relentless, pounding into you. Your fingers claw down his back, and his hands squeeze your hips.

“It’s too much, Kei,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut. Ukai presses a searing kiss to your lips, thumb digging into your side.

“Please, baby. Give me one more. Cum for me one more time,” he mumbles into your lips. You nod against him, blinking through the tears. “Good. Just let me fuck you like this.”

His cock drives deep in you, making you keen. Your hands travel up to his hair, tangling into it, and tugging at the strands. He feels everywhere, his presence is overwhelming, hot and heavy. His hips rut into you, lips peppering your face with small kisses. Your cunts already oversensitive can feel your orgasm approaching.

“I’m close, Kei,” you choke out, pussy gushing around his cock. You flush at the lewd noises, but he just moans nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Give it to me. Wanna feel your little pussy squeeze around me.” You hold him to your neck, hips bucking into him. Ukai’s hand snakes down in between the two of you, and his fingers rub intense circles on your clit. Your eyes squeeze shut, as the building pleasure finally reaches its peak.

“Just like that, baby. Cum around my cock.” You writhe beneath him, your hands traveling to claw down his back. Your hot cunt grips him tight, legs tightening around his waist. “Just like that,” he groans, before his teeth sink into the base of your shoulder. You moan his name loudly, loud enough that you would be embarrassed later, but for not you don’t care. All you can focus on is the white-hot pleasure that’s coursing through your system.

Ukai’s thrusts don’t stop, plowing into you and prolonging your orgasm. He pulls his hand away from your clit, and he slips his arms in between your back and the bed, holding you tightly. You whine as you feel his hips begin to lose their pace, thrusts no longer steady. Your legs squeeze around him, keeping him close to you.

“Cum inside, please I need it,” you beg. He pulls away from your neck, eyebrows creasing in concern. “I’m on the pill. It’s safe, I promise. Please Kei, I need you to fill me, please, please, please.”

“Alright, baby. I’ll give you what you want.” His head drops back to the crook of your neck, as he stutters against you, hot spurts of cum flooding your pussy. He falls against you, before rolling onto his side, keeping you tight against him. His cock is still lodged within you, and you whine at the movement. Sweet kisses litter your face and neck, and you blink blearily at him. He slowly pulls out of you, grunting at the way your pussy flutters. You grimace as his cum drips out of your abused cunt.

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” he mumbles, before standing up and disappearing to the bathroom. You flop onto your back, trying to catch your breath. When Ukai returns, he kneels in between your shaky legs, and ever so carefully, he takes care of you. There’s something unusually soft in his actions, soft enough to make your heart squeeze. He also gets you a glass of water, which you gulp down. He lights a cigarette, as he watches your eyes start to clear up.

“Keishin, you’re kind of nasty,” you mumble, stretching your arms out above your head. His laugh rumbles through the air, as he takes a drag. He eyes you greedily, as if he’s going to eat you alive.

“This was nothing. There’s so much I wanna do to you.” His voice is low, heavy with exhaustion. “But for now I just want to hold you.”

“Well that can be arranged,” you tease, lying back on the bed. Ukai chuckles, putting out his cigarette and crawling forward to wrap his arms around you. You sigh in contentment, letting your eyes shut.

“I missed you,” he mutters, and you smile against him.

“I missed you too, Keishin.” Sleep tugs at your brain, luring it to a deep rest.

“Did you mean it? What you said?” His voice is unusually quiet, delicately piercing the air. His thumb gently strokes your arm. Your eyes flutter open, and your brows pinch as you try to recall what you had said.

“About what?” you ask, trying to stifle a yawn.

“What you said? About you and me?”

Oh.

You smile at him, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. When you pull away, you lean your forehead against his and you smile.

“The only person for me is you, Keishin. It’s always been you.” He hums happily before he pulls you against him.

“Good. Cause I was serious. I’m not letting you go again.” You shut your eyes and nuzzle into him, taking comfort in the way his arms wrap around you. And it’s in those arms that you embrace the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in years.✨

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eleni-cherie · 3 years ago

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8 mile ✨ || myg au - chapter 0.9

"Thanks to you I could make my dream come true."

first time yoongi laid eyes on soyeon was eight years ago, at a rap battle in a rundown club. how could they know the effect they would have on each other ever since?

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masterlist: here

— genre: musicians au, romcom, humour, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

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"With clearing my mind you meant eating spicy chicken stew?" Soyeon didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It had seemed too absurd to be true. However, Yoongi's quick glance over the bowl told her otherwise.

"Spicy food is good to clear your mind," he nodded to himself. Taking a bite from the meat swimming in the broth. "And it also clears your body." She couldn't help but let out a sarcastic laugh at his wanna-be philosophical wisdoms.

Although not completely conviced, she did eat nontheless. She was hungry after all. Not having eaten anything proper in probably half a day. "Oh, it's good!" she exclaimed, taking another spoon of it. Leaving any vegetables beside the potatoes out though. "You're not eating the vegetables," he noted. "Yeah.. not a big fan of them.." He snorted, before taking another spoonful. "Like a twelve year old.." She shot him a dead glare before redirecting her attention to the delicious food in the bowl.

She was used to people mocking her about her eating habits. She knew being a young adult who still dispised vegetables was ridiculous. And probably unhealthy. But she honestly didn't care. She loved fruits though. That should be enough.

They continued eating in silence. The warm steam of the stew caressing their cheeks while people around them kept being noisy in the small restaurant.

"Ah, I'm full," she contently said then, patting her belly. It was good eating some food like her mum's. She hadn't done so in weeks, even though her parents lived in the same city. "But my mind is still not clear. At least not completely," she added then with a small grin. Like she had won a non-existent bet against him. "Guess the spicy food wasn't enough after all. Still thanks for trying."

"This was just step one," he grinned back as he waved the waiter to come over.

»»»

Soyeon's eyes grew wide as she saw the glittery shining lights of Incheon getting reflected on the sea's surface. The salty air breeze gently hitting her face when she felt steps on the soft sand. Yoongi's taller statue soon standing next to her. His arm brushing hers.

"I've only been here once." "I've never been here," he admitted quietly. She hummed in confusion. "How comes you brought me here then?" She felt him shrug. "My friend told me about coming here at night once. So I always wanted to try it out." "I see.." Pursing her lips, she inhaled deeply the fresh cold air. Not wanting to snoop around by asking him why he had decided to do it now out of all times. And with her.

"So step two is to go to the sea?" "Not exactly. It just has to be a widely open area. Preferably with no people around." "Huh. So then what is step two?" He glanced down at her. His eyes reflecting the lights from the other side of the shore as the wind lightly tousled his hair. "What are you most frustrated about? Be honest." His question took her aback, causing her to blink rapidly. She began stuttering and looked down at their shoes, which almost sunk in sand.

"I guess it's.. it's that.." She shrugged. "I sometimes feel like I lack experience in.. in life. In general. Making it hard for me to write. Not only about it, but about anything." As soon as those words escaped her lips, her eyes widened in shock. She had never managed admitting this. Neither to herself nor to anyone else. It felt liberating in a way. Like a burden had been lifted from her heart.

Yoongi nodded, adverting his eyes from her again. Staring at the distance. "What frustrates you is you can't relate to your lyrics," he precisely summed it up. "Yeah." "Good. Now say it again." Her brows furrowed. "I.. I can't relate to my lyrics." "Louder." The frown didn't leave her features. "I can't relate to my lyrics!" Hearing her raised voice outside in the middle of the night felt stange. And yet he demanded for her to be louder. Making her mad. "I can't relate to my lyrics!!" she shouted this time, glancing at him to see if he was satisfied this time. But he just gave her one of his wide grins, mouthing "louder".

So Soyeon took a deep breath and closed her eyes, clenching her fists. And with all the energy that was left she screamed "I can't relate to my lyrics because my life was too fcking normal and boring!" With heavy breathing, she let herself sink on the cold sand. A single tear escaping her eyes from the piled up frustration that had suddenly been released. She quickly wiped it away, swallowing hard. Her breathing unsteady as her gaze was laying on the shiny skyline in front of them.

She felt angry. And embarrassed. She felt as she had stripped down and was now sitting there naked. The cold air breeze making her shiver as she brought her knees to her face and folded her arms above them.

But most importantly, she felt relieved. She had most likely made a fool of herself, but she still felt relieved. It had felt great to just scream it out. And now she also started feeling less angry and embarrassed.

"How you feeling?" His voice raspy as he sat down next to her.

He hadn't wanted to make her feel bad or humiliate her. He had simply figured out she had to learn to admit and let go of anything bothering her. Otherwise it would be blocking her like a lump.

"Better," she said. Her lips curling up as she turned her head towards him. Her cat-eyes shining under the remote lights. "Thanks."

He gave her a nod. Watching her looking back at the skyline. "You know, you don't have to always relate to your lyrics," he said then, "You could also imagine a situation and put yourself into it. Or write about other people. Make a story up. Like an author writing a novel." "I know," she sighed, "That's what I've been trying doing. But it feels even harder for someone with no real experiences. I don't know.." "It doesn't have to be.. Just base it on other sources. Like films you've watched." She hummed. He had a point. However, wouldn't that be somehow like cheating? And she didn't want to cheat.

"I'll think about it," she said then, "Maybe I'll ask some of the songwriters for help. Bomi seems good. She had helped me out with some lyrics last week." For a moment he remained silent. Letting his fingers glide over the sand. The tiny sand grains sliding down from his grip as he heaved his hand then. "What about me? I could help you."

»»»

next chapter: here

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lazywonderlvnd · 4 years ago

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Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly.

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him.

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it.

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning.

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences.

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils.

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn’t point it out.

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather.

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.

#anna writes #this prompt rly sent me into a tailspin of emotion #Anonymous

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juminsmysticmc · 4 years ago

Note

Heyo hope your having a lovely Evening/Afternoon/Morning, I was wondering if you could write RFA+ Saeran and V reacting to there child walking in on them while doing it with Mc. I really do love all your stuff and keep up the amazing work

RFA+ Minor Duo who’s children walk in while they are having sex with Mc ( Smut, NSFW )

Mention of Sex, Orgasm, smutty talk

Hello, that’s pretty nice, ahaha XD thank god it never happened to me, I think I would ever be able to look into my parents eyes but I am curious, did this happen to you guys? Tell me your opinion to this HC, I am interested what you think about it! Have a nice day!!

Jumin

The sex between you and Jumin was amazing.

He knew how to make you happy and you, to be honest, knew how to make him feel good too.

Both of you could have an intimate moment anywhere and anytime.

While Jaehee is outside working, while his father is talking to the chef at the restaurant you’re at, well, you both were rather brave.

But something you never tried was having sex during the day while your five years old son was in the room next to you.

,,What if he walks in?’’ you asked Jumin as he kissed your neck and began to massage the skin between your tights, making you moan.

,,He won’t, we will hear him… just don’t be so loud,’’ he whispered with a raspy voice as he now arrived at your panties.

,,Ah~ wait, let’s close the door…’’ you whined, but Jumin didn’t give you a chance.

Your husband lightly pushed you against his desk, making his stuff fall on the floor as he pulled down your clothes.

Your wet pussy was now naked in front of him as he kissed your vulva and stroked your belly.

,,I’m sure he wants a little sibling too…’’ Jumin said and kissed your clit, making you whine a bit louder.

Jumin grabbed your hips and put his nose on your clit as he licked your pussy, putting his tongue into you and feeling your walls.

You whined and moaned even louder, gasping for air.

You could feel him smirk against your lips and felt that you would soon give up below his touch, when suddenly, a voice came out of the direction of the door.

,,WHO IS MAKING MY MOM CRY?!’’ your five years old son screamed, making you shriek and Jumin look up to his son.

His first instinct was to hide your naked skin and so he laid his body on you, making you accidentally moan again.

,,DADDY!!’’ your son began to cry, thinking that his father would squeeze his mother.

He was indeed a mama’s boy.

You quickly pulled up your pants without your son seeing anything and lightly pushed Jumin away, approaching your son.

You took him in your arms as you moved him up and down, patting his back.

,,Mommy was having pains on her knee and so Daddy had to look there. Mommy is just a cry baby, but Daddy wasn’t hurting Mommy, yeah? Don’t cry, my baby, don’t cry…’’ you whispered and exited the room, leaving Jumin back kind of embarrassed and with a boner.

Zen

Both of you were kind of horny that night and just couldn’t stop the mood from turning sexy.

,,I haven’t touched that beautiful body of yours in a long time already,’’ Zen whispered as you felt his penis growing.

You put your hand below the blanket and began to stroke him, making him groan.

,,Me neither. I missed you,’’ you confessed, kissing his soft lips.

The romantic kiss turned out to be a kiss filled with lust and after a few moments, your tongues were dancing/ He was sucking at your lips and teasing you, making you moan against his lips.

His penis twitched at your sounds and soon Zen put his hand over yours, rubbing his hard member.

,,Me too....’’ you whined and finally smiled when Zen slipped his hand between your legs, feeling the hot dampness.

,,I love you…’’ he confessed again. He moves his body and positioned himself over you, his legs supporting his body while you still rubbed his member.

He was supporting himself with his left arm and used his free hand to stroke your soft cheek, kissing your nose.

,,Mhhhhmmm…’’ you giggled and opened your mouth slightly, wanting him to insert his tongue again.

Zen kissed you deeply again until he noticed that his chest was brushing against your nipples, making them grow hard.

He smirked as he pulled your shirt up and began to nibble at them.

,,UGH!’’ you groaned and pushed your upper body to him when he lightly bit your erect nipple.

Both of you were enjoying the foreplay when suddenly a little ,,Mommy’’ came from behind the both of you.

Zen immediately let his body fall on his left while you quickly covered up your breasts.

,,Taeyeon is scared,’’ your ten years old daughter said, holding your little daughter by her hand.

,,But you’re… busy. Come with me, Taeyeon~ah,’’ she said, turning around immediately.

,,Ahhh, I wanna have Mommy and Daddy, Unnie!’’ she whined.

Your heart was still racing. You quickly fixed your clothes and jumped up.

,,Ji Woo!’’ you called your older daughter.

,,Mommy and Daddy weren’t busy!’’ you whined and took your daughters hand.

Zen looked at your back as you walked off and laid back in his bed, putting his hands over his face.

,,Aish…’’ he whined.

,,I don’t know if I’m embarrassed or sad…!’’ he kept whining, waiting for your return.

Yoosung

,,It’s nap time…’’ you mumbled as you stroked your husband’s chest, making him shiver.

Yoosung looked at you with his cute puppy eyes.

You knew that he was unsure if this would be a good idea.

But there was no going back by now. You were already on his lap and you could feel that Yoosung was horny too. His member was erect and you could feel it.

His hands wandered down to your ass and massaged it as you moaned. Only he could hear you since you tried to keep it low.

,,I missed you,’’ you mumbled as you began to ride him over his pants, making his pre cum get alll over his pants with a wet spot.

You loved to know that Yoosung was horny for you and it made you so proud… so you didn’t stop teasing him.

Your lips touched his as you went to nibble on his earlobe, making him groan. He was a bit louder than you, which was something that made you laugh.

You were still riding your husband when he managed to get access to your breasts and lick at them, nibbling at your nipples and playing with them.

He inhaled your scent and kissed the same spot he was nibbling just a few seconds ago.

,,You’re so beautiful… I love you so much…’’ he smiled and kissed your lips.

While you were rubbing your panties, he opened his jeans. You were still on his lap, doing movements as if you were riding when he put up his hard member.

Your hand left your wet pussy and started rubbing him, making him cry out as you suddenly touched him.

His member was twitching below your touch.

You smiled, you loved to see it, how it reacted to you.

Yoosung put up your dress and rubbed your clit, slowly fingering you.

Your movements went quicker and your groans were filled with lust.

Yoosung lightly shook his dick a few times against your vulva before he entered your pussy, making you feel full and loved.

,,Ride me, Mc… ride me…’’ he begged you and hugged you tightly.

,,Ohi, ohi, ahh, mhhh…’’ you whined, riding him with all your passion.

,,Oh, I’m so close,’’ you gasped and kissed him, your tongue deep into his.

,,Let’s cum together. I can feel it. It feels so good….’’ he groaned and finally squirted his cum into your cunt, making you full.

His dick twitched a few times while your sex felt like it was pulsing.

However, he was still horny, and you still wanted more.

He slowly put you up, your legs now spread as he kissed your cunt and put a finger into you.

You were just about to put your head on his when suddenly you heard the door.

,,Mommy, Hyung and I are hungry,’’ your younger son said. Yoosung immediately pulled out and before you could think of something else, you let your body fall on his lap.

You looked back and smiled, ,,Mommy will cook in a few seconds. Wait in the kitchen for me,’’ you said, your voice trembling from your last orgasm.

,,Are you playing horse with Daddy?’’ your older son asked you as he also joined.

You nodded. ,,Yes, but now Mommy will cook. Wait in the kitchen for me,’’ you said and slowly went down again as you heard your sons running towards the kitchen.

,,I knew, that this was a bad idea,’’ Yoosung whined as he turned as red as a tomato.

Jaehee

You and Jaehee decided four years ago to adopt a boy and the little boy gave you everything: happiness, love, affection, something to do, and love.

But it also gave you a busy schedule.

Between kindergarten and the coffee shop, both of you had to stay prepared 24/7 for the case that someone would come to check on you guys to see if you were taking good care of your son.

Of course, it was good that they took care of it, but that way having some romantic time between the both of you was impossible.

That’s why both of you decided that tonight would be the day. You and Jaehee had planned everything.

Your son was in his bed, sleeping, and both of you were in your rooms.

The lights were dimmed, the atmosphere was hot, and both of you were wet and filled with passion for each other’s touch.

You stroked her breast and watched her nipples get erect; the little almost pink part of her body.

You smirked when you saw that both nipples were erect and looked up to her.

Jaehee blushed and bit on her lips as she waited for it, but you loved to tease her.

You stroked her vulva and observed her as she opened her mouth in an ,,o’’ and moaned.

,,Don’t tease me…’’ she whined and looked back at you, licking her lips.

You wet your lips and entangled her right nipple with your mouth, licking and flicking it with your tongue inside your mouth.

Your left hand supported her big tit as your right one played with her body.

,,Ah, oh my God, mhhhmm…’’ Jaehee moaned as you sucked at it a bit stronger, moving her left nipple as if it was a screw.

,,Mc, let me… you too…’’ Jaehee gasped, making you stop. You opened your mouth and laid back, opening your legs for her. ,,Okay, here you are,’’ you smirked.

Jaehee was also excited. Her heart didn’t stop ricing.

With her head, she slowly went down, kissing your vulva and your lips, kissing each before she split them apart with her both fingers in order to see your clit.

,,So wet here,’’ she laughed and put her lips on it, making you go up with your hips.

,,I missed it…’’ she confessed and took a first lick, making you moan and twitch.

Then she began to suck at your clit, her hands were just about to go up when you moaned again.

At that exact moment, the door was opened.

Jaehee jumped up with her head and looked with a horrified look on her face to the door.

You turned your head around. Your cheeks were still red when you saw your son with tears in his eyes.

,,What are you doing? Mommy, are you in pain?’’ he asked you.

,,Mom, will Mommy die…?’’ he asked Jaehee.

You immediately put on your bra and went to him, hugging him in your arms while you tried to calm him.

,,Mommy was in pain but it’s better now. Mom helped me, see? I’m here. I had a… pimple there, you know? But don’t tell anybody, it’s embarrassing,’’ you said.

He nodded and scratched his head.

,,Will you come with me to make me fall asleep again?’’ he asked you.

You nodded and took him, looking back to a deep red Jaehee who also had her clothes on by now.

Saeyoung

,,The girls are at school, Saeran is sleeping in his room, do we have enough time for a quickie?’’ Saeyoung asked you.

You looked to your red haired husband, who like always - was horny as if he never had sex before.

But there was no need to lie. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted to feel you.

,,Let’s go to our room,’’ you said and was about to leave when he held you at your arm.

,,You look sexy while you prepare lunch… I need you here and now,’’ he groaned and kissed you, pushing you on the table.

The table your family used to eat.

His own spot to be honest.

Saeyoung pulled you up and let you sit on the table, his lips never leaving your lips as your tongues were dancing with each other.

You moaned against him, making his body vibrate.

Saeyoung quickly pulled your pants and panties down and slipped his hand between your legs.

You pulled your head back and left a warm spot on his lips as you moaned.

The sudden touch made you high, high for his touch.

He smiled as his fingers made circling movements with your clit.

,,Inside, make me cum on your place…’’ you smiled smuttily.

Saeyoung smirked and didn’t think about it twice before he slipped his hands deeper, entering your pussy.

He made a movement that made you cry out all of a sudden - your G-Spot.

,,Come here, kitty,’’ he laughed and kept making the same movement, his finger rubbing you and making your walls get tighter.

,,Saeyoung, ahhh!’’ you cummed.

Saeyoung smiled as his hard dick was pressing against his pants.

He kissed you one last time before he put his finger in your mouth, opening his jeans with one hand.

However, maybe luckily, he never achieved what he wanted to do.

It took seconds for your oldest twin daughter to open the front door using the Arabic word Saeyoung installed.

With a horrified face, you watched as your girls, both fifteen since they were twins, came in and saw you.

At first they were shocked, but then they suddenly both began to laugh, shaking their heads.

,,I hope we get a new table after that! You look so weird!’’ your youngest said and ran into her room, closing her door behind both of them.

,,I- oh my god,’’ Saeyoung coughed and looked at you.

,,Our room now and later you can get a new table for real!’’ you hissed and went down off the table, cleaning your mess before you entered your room.

Saeran

Your husband was already embarrassed enough to ask you for sex, so this experience was making everything worse.

You noticed the whole day that something seemed to be wrong and in the evening, you finally made him tell you.

,,I… I… it won’t go away,’’ he whined.

,,What won’t go away?’’ you asked him with a concerned face.

He finally looked up to you, deep into your eyes and opened his mouth. ,,My boner,’’ he whispered and looked down again.

You began to laugh and looked at him. ,,Really? Saeran, you could have just told me!’’ you kept laughing and finally went on your knees.

Slowly, you opened his pants and pulled him down. Your hand was now around his shaft.

You moved your hand up and down as you observed his hard dick.

Poor him, you thought.

He was in pain the whole day…

,,Mhmm….ah..mhm…’’ he gasped.

You smiled as you saw the pre cum and finally put your mouth around his dick.

At first you took only the tip between your lips, your tongue flicked his penis as you slowly put in more and more, going deeper and deeper.

You gagged as a reaction, but began to chuckle right away.

Suddenly Saeran groaned up and came, squirting all his semen into your mouth.

,,Sorry,’’ he gasped when he saw what he did.

,,No problem…’’ you smiled and looked up, wiping off his cum from your mouth.

,,Can you… actually, you made me wet,’’ you chuckled and went up, going three steps back.

,,Y-yes!’’ he answered and bowed over you, kissing you.

Both of you finally went below the blankets and hugged each other before Saeran massaged your insides with his fingers.

,,Ah, mhh…’’ you moaned and kissed him again.

Suddenly you felt his, once again, hard dick against your leg.

He slowly moved his hips up and down and finally entered you, making you hold your breath because of the sudden thick feeling in your pussy.

Saeran was about to massage your breast when someone called both of you. Of course it was none other than your daughter.

,,Are you cuddling? Can I cuddle too?’’ she mumbled and almost climbed on your shared bed.

,,Wait!’’ you called.

,,I suddenly want hot chocolate! You too?’’ you asked her, making her clap with her hands and run to the kitchen, giving you enough time to put on your clothes again.

Jihyun

Years went by and by now Lucy was 15.

She was a lovely girl and a brave big sister who always defended her 3 year old brother.

As her mother, you were more than proud of her.

The same was for Jihyun. He too was proud of her and happy that both of you adopted her back then.

,,Mommy, I’m going out with Noona!’’ your son said and already left, closing the door.

,,Where are they going?’’ you asked Jihyun who smiled at the now closed door.

While he was thinking about his children, he suddenly felt something on his pants.

Looking at you he noticed that you were slowly blushing.

,,You’re making the first step and are already embarrassed?’’ he asked you and laughed.

His hands softly pushed you down on the couch while he wildly kissed your lips, your hands still between his hands.

Jihyun went with his hands and lips part for part on your body, kissing every inch of skin you had and finally pulling down your underwear.

,,Lick me,’’ you groaned and looked down to him.

He smirked against your entrance and put his tongue in.

When you began to like it, his movements stopped, an action that made you whine as fresh air suddenly hit your pussy.

But Jihyun knew what he was doing and so he turned you around, making you groan as you knew what he was about to do.

His right hand explored your pussy, massaging your lips, stroking your vulva and clit.

He also shortly entered your pussy, your entrance, and made you clench against his touch.

But everything changed when his left hand slowly went to your ass.

First one finger, to make you adjust to this one thing you both did for the first time.

Then he added a second finger, and when you began to just be the moaning mess he wanted you to become he used a third one and his tongue, sending electrical shocks up to you.

,,WE ARE BACK!’’ your son called, making you gasp.

You didn’t dare to look. Not with this flushed face in that position.

Jihyun was also so shocked that his fingers were left in your insides.

,,We-Fuck!’’ Lucy said, opening her eyes widely and turning around.

She quickly got her brother and turned him around, making it impossible for him to understand what exactly his Noona saw.

,,Can’t you guys do these kinds of things at night in your own room? Like normal adults?’’ she asked you, kind of judging you..

,,What were they doing, Noona?’’ the little innocent boy asked her older sister. She looked down at him and smiled kindly, just like always. ,,They were trying to give us a lil sister or a lil brother by hugging each other tightly. Let’s go out again!’’ she said and managed to go out.

,,I hope they give us a sis!’’ your son blabbered.

,,This was- oh my god,’’ you laughed and looked at Jihyun who quickly let go of you.

,,Let’s get changed,’’ he mumbled and disappeared into his room, hoping that he would manage to calm down...

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

08.05.2021// 00:45 MEST

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Text

Thank you for the request, love!🎄❤️ Hope you don’t mind, I did some changes but it still follows the concept of your request! I hope you like it and happy reading!!❤️ @palna

💌.

The One I’ve Been Missing

This was kinda inspired by Little Mix’s song, “One I’ve Been Missing”, give it a listen :)

Warnings: some angst? Kinda sad for a Christmas fix..but has a some what happy ending. This came out longer than expected..enjoy, I tired:)

(Gif from Pinterest)

The living room was full of smiles and laughter as your family began to create plans for Christmas Day. It was Christmas Eve, and knowing your family, everything was to come together last minute. Though your family didn’t live too far, they had been staying at your place since the weather at your hometown had been absolutely horrible. There had been snow storms that closed down schools, took out power lines, and covered the ground in a thick white blanket of snow.

Your cousins have been arguing about who was going to make the Mac and Cheese this year when your phone began to vibrate in your pocket. You took your phone out and saw that it was Paddy. Paddy was Tom’s younger brother. Even though you and Tom had broken up, your relationship with his family was still strong. You and his brothers had gotten along so well, that they loved you like you were their sister. His parents, Nikki and Dom, have been very supportive of you during the breakup. They were disappointed in Tom for what he did and even apologized for their son’s actions. Though your relationship with their son was undecided at the moment, they always made an effort to call you on holidays or to just say hello once in a while.

You quietly excused yourself and entered the kitchen. Answering the call, you lean on the marble counters of your kitchen. The call goes through and Paddy’s adorable face pops up on your screen. His smile grows into his rosy cheeks when he finally sees you.

“(Y/n)! Merry Christmas!” He happily screams through the phone. You hear Nikki scold him in the background.

“(Y/n), darling! Merry Christmas!” She smiles while waving at the camera.

“Thank you! You guys look like you’re having a blast over there!” You hear a ton of commotion in the background, which was most likely Tom and his siblings showing off their presents to each other or having some pointless argument.

“We are! Sam’s cooked our lunch and he’s planning on making dinner later today! We’ve already opened presents and everyone’s happy! How are you, love? Are you with your family?” She questioned you as she sat on the couch. You saw Dom beside her, who made a funny face and waved at you. You chuckled waving back.

“I’m doing really good, my family has been staying with me for the last few days, so we’ve been together for about a week now? But everything’s going great! It’s Christmas Eve here and now we’re just waiting till midnight to start passing out presents!” You answer.

“Oh that’s good! I’m glad you got to spend time with your family because I’ve heard the weather there has been harsh! Thankfully Harry made it out before that big storm, if he didn’t he wouldn’t be home for the holidays!” Harry had been in your hometown because Tom was filming a new movie there. The set was only an hour away from where you lived, but you never went to visit. Although, you and Harry would meet up sometimes to have lunch together in the city, Harrison would tag along once in a while as well.

“Harry made it home! That’s good news, I was worrying that they wouldn’t make it back on time for Christmas!” You hear someone talk in the background.

“Is that (y/n)?” A deep voice asks. You recognize it to be Harry’s. Nikki nods and motions at him to say hello. Sam and Harry’s heads pop onto the screen with silly grins.

“(Y/n)! Merry Christmas! You look beautiful!” Sam compliments you with a charming smile.

“Aw thank you Sam! You look handsome!” A light blush forms on the boy’s cheeks. Harry takes the phone and asks, “How’s the weather there? Has the storm died down?”

You glanced out the window and saw nothing but white. The storm had stopped yesterday, but there were some random snowfall here and there.

“Well it’s stopped for now, my backyard is literally nothing but white.” You chuckle as you turn your camera to show your spacious backyard.

“Oh! Isn’t that wonderful, we haven’t gotten much snow here this year.” You hear Dom comment. You turn the camera back to yourself and ask Harry, “How was the flight, Haz? Hope it wasn’t too bumpy.”

Harry hummed, “The plane departed when the storm died down so it was a decent flight. There was some turbulence when we got up in the air but it went by smoothly after.”

“At least you got home safe, that’s all that matters.”

“I’m quite surprised I handled the turbulence well on my own. I was getting anxious when the plane started to shake, but towards the end of the flight it was all good.” Your brows furrowed. It was a known fact that Harry wasn’t that good with turbulence (I made that fact up, he’s probably ok w/ turbulence idk). Since he usually traveled with Tom, he had to board many flights. Tom would be the one to calm his brother down when his anxiousness got the best of him. Which made you concerned because you knew Tom wouldn’t let his younger brother board a plane on his own while a snow storm was happening outside.

“Wait Harry, you were by yourself?” You began to question him. Harry was a grown adult, he’s 21, but it still concerned you.

“Yeah, Tom had to stay back since he had to film more scenes.” Harry answered.

“Oh. Did he at least make it back home before the storm?” You continued. A frown was on the boys lips.

“Nope, he got stuck in (your hometown). I was supposed to still be there with him, but he literally forced me to get on a flight home before Christmas.” Harry shrugged. A pout formed on your own lips at the thought of Tom getting stranded in (your hometown). Also the fact that he was probably alone during the holidays. Sure, you and him weren’t on the best terms, but it was Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas.

You continued to talk to the Holland family for a few more minutes until they told you they had to go. You bid them all goodbye with kisses and a wave before hanging up. When the call ended, the smile on your face fell. You should’ve been happy. You were spending time with your family and it was Christmas Eve! But some things never change. As always, Tom had crept his way into your thoughts.

The breakup between you two was rough and messy. Though you should have seen it coming. There was a lack of communication on both sides of the relationship. You weren’t being honest with your feelings with him and neither was he. Of course, you understood his job. You knew he would have to travel long distances and be in a different time zone as you, he had to be gone for months, and had to work with some of the most beautiful actresses in the business. But there was something about this certain costar that didn’t sit right with you. You trusted Tom and knew that he would never cheat. You just didn’t trust her. You really tried to like her, even had some conversations with her when you went to visit Tom on set. But the way she would touch his arm whenever she would laugh or look at him the same way you would just made your blood boil. Maybe it was the green eyed monster in you that caused all these emotions, you just couldn’t help it. The green eyed monster had taken over you.

For months while Tom worked on that movie, you had been feeling your lowest. You were insecure about yourself and began to second guess things that occurred in your relationship with Tom. Which was not healthy, but it happens, you know? You hated the way you looked and how your body was shaped. You compared yourself to her even though you knew most of the pictures on her Instagram were very much edited. The more Tom got busy, the less he texted or called. Your relationship felt like it was drifting but you still made an effort. You would text him to ask about his day or to just say a simple “good morning” or “good night”. He never got the chance to reply most of the time, but when he did it would be a short response. It wasn’t like the paragraphs of him going on and on about his day and how great it was. Sometimes he would talk about getting a stunt correctly done in one take or how he would get his lines right the first time. You didn’t think much of the short replies, you usually chalked it up to him just being busy. But then you would see him on Harry or Harrison’s story at some restaurant gathered all together. Then she would also be there, nuzzled up against his side while his arm rested behind her chair. That should’ve been you.

You didn’t want to think that he was cheating on you, but the signs were literally there. You shouldn’t have fallen for them and should have talked it out with Tom instead of focusing on the scenarios that were created in your head. You knew Tom was smarter than that. He wouldn’t cheat on you, he promised you that he wouldn’t break your heart. Then those pictures from the club came out.

They were all over Instagram and Twitter. You had multiple fans tagging you on them and saw them everywhere on your feed. It was as if the world was trying to shove it into your face. The picture was taken at a club, it was the usual group of boys accompanied by some cast members from the movies. You assumed there had been some drinks involved, but Tom looked sober as ever. There were many pictures of them. There were some of them laughing, dancing, and drinking together. You spotted his arm wrapped around her waist or his hand touching her in almost all of them. Finally, there were the pictures of them practically sucking the lips off of each other’s faces. They disgusted you. The way his hands were combed through her hair or how they stroked her cheek reminded you of how he kissed you. You remember feeling sick to your stomach. The pain and the anger blended together as the tears blinded your eyes. It was like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake up from.

You realized you had been staring at your phone for the past 10 to 15 minutes. Tears welled up in your eyes as your memory began to remind you of the scar that Tom had left on your life. You felt the presence of the emptiness in your heart that you thought had healed months ago. You still love him. No matter the bullshit you went through with him, you’ve never loved anyone like Tom. The one you’ve been missing was the only thing that could fix the hollowness in your heart.

“You should invite him.” You jump as your mother makes herself present in the room. You place a hand onto your heart to calm its rapid beating.

“Geez, don’t do that.” You run a hand through your hair as you lean on the counter again. Your arms touch the cold marble, bringing some coolness into your warm body.

“You’ve been gone for about thirty minutes, it’s past twelve. Everyone was worrying about you.” You mother settled herself beside you, instead her back was leaning against the marble.

“You still love him.” She tells you quietly. You’re quick to react and stand up straight, “No I— ow my tongue!”

You whine as your teeth bite down on your tongue, your actions acting before your words.

“I don’t.”

“Really? If you didn’t love him anymore, you wouldn’t be talking to his family still or meeting up with his brothers during the weekend” you mother tilted her head at you, her arms crossed.

You shrugged, “They’re nice people.”

“You know, you should stop avoiding the truth. Denying your feelings and lying to yourself is only going to hurt you even more. I’m your mother, I hate seeing you hurt.” You turned to your mom.

“Don’t you hate him?” You asked her, voice quiet.

Your mother had a look of thought on her face, “Of course, I do, he broke your heart. But I don’t know, there’s just something about that boy.”

She snapped her fingers, “Ah! He reminds me of your dad!”

You raise a brow at her, “Tom reminds you of dad?”

“He does. I remember when we were younger, your dad made the same mistakes. I hated his guts but we crossed paths again somewhere down the road and I gave him a second chance. Now how many years later, we’re married with beautiful children and grandchildren.”

You remain silent as you stare at your phone again. You thought about asking Harry for Tom’s address but you were hesitant.

“He’s probably stuck here for a reason, (y/n).” Your mom says with a knowing look. You sigh rubbing the tiredness out your eyes. It had been a long day and you were low on energy.

“He could also be thinking about you right now.” She hummed, starting to make her way out the kitchen.

“How would you know?” You ask her.

“You bit your tongue.” She simply answers before turning the corner. You were alone in the kitchen staring at your phone once again. The debate in your head continuing throughout the night.

~The Next Day~

Your gloved hands gripped onto the steering wheel as you drove through the snowy roads. You were mindful to keep an eye out for any glossy patches to avoid getting into an accident. You turned on the street Harry sent you and peered out your window to look for the number of Tom’s rented house. Harry texted you that the house was a light gray color with black accents and had a 35 nailed to the door. When you spotted the house that matched Harry’s description, you pulled over and put the car in park. You hopped out the car, shivering when the brisk winter air came into contact with your face. Your boots sink into the snow as you trudge your way up to his door.

You get to his doorstep and began to stomp the snow off your boots. Taking a deep breath you brace yourself before you can ring his doorbell.

“It’s Christmas, he shouldn’t be alone on Christmas, this is why you’re doing this.” You mumble to yourself. You started to shake but you weren’t sure if it were your nerves or the cold. It was probably both.

You finger hovered over the doorbell for a moment before you forced yourself to push it. A string of “fucks” began to play over and over in your head like a mantra.

You waited for a few seconds for him to answer but heard nothing. You debated on ringing the bell again but your feet were already turning you away from the door, too scared to face Tom again. You were about to step off his doorstep when you heard footsteps behind the door. The lock clicked and the door opened to reveal Tom, looking disheveled as ever.

His eyes widen when he realizes it was you who rang his bell. His mouth is agape as he tries to form words. The only thing he could muster out is, “(y/n).”

“Hey.” You breath out, taking him in after avoiding him for months straight. You slowly approach him, settling to stand a few feet away from him. His hair had grown out a bit longer and there was a shadow of some facial hair on his face. You noticed that his eyes were a bit dark, almost blank. It was as if the light in his eyes had disappeared.

“What—What are you doing here?” He began to ask. He rushes to add, “Not that I don’t want you here, I’m actually really glad you’re here, but—um. I’m just— hi.” He sighs, shoulders slumping. He eyes you for a second before jumping on his feet.

“How rude of me, do you want to come in? It’s freezing out here.” He moves to the side and opens the door wider so you can walk in. You didn’t want to enter his place but the warmth of the house and the familiar scent of Tom entranced your senses.

You wiped your boots on the doormat and quietly thanked him as you walked into his rented home. You noticed that Love Actually had been playing on the tv while the couch was occupied with a bowl of popcorn and an abandoned Sherpa blanket. You loosen the scarf around your neck and turn to Tom who was already looking at you.

“So, what brings you around? Thought you didn’t want to talk to me ever since what happened.” His voice is strained as he leans against the doorway to the living room.

“Paddy called me on FaceTime yesterday.” You started. Tom sighed, shaking his head at his younger brother. You wave him off, “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind. He actually helped me avoid a family argument about Mac and Cheese.”

Tom was looking down at the floor but you saw his cheeks slightly raise, “Yeah, you never did mind Padd’s eagerness.”

“Well, he’s adorable. Anyway, I ended up talking to Harry and he said that you got stuck here during the blizzard. Also, that you were spending the holidays alone.” You began to explain rocking on the balls of your feet. You turn to his tv, the voices from it murmuring quietly, “So, if you’re done watching Love Actually for the hundredth time, um, you could come over at my place and spend Christmas with my family.”

Tom pushes off the wall and slowly shuffled towards you. His arms are crossed, something he did when he felt nervous or awkward.

“I wouldn’t want to impose, (y/n).” He finally looks up at you, his familiar brown eyes that you missed so much sending comfort into your body.

“Mom insisted.” A hint of a teasing smile played on your chapstick covered lips. No matter the situation between you and Tom, you knew he could never turn down your mother. He adored your mother, he always remembered the time when you first introduced him to her. She welcomed him with open arms and treated him like he were her fifth child.

He lets out a laugh, looking down at himself, “Guess that means I should clean up then?”

He was wearing a grey jumper with black sweatpants. A blue beanie was on his head, the ends of his curls peaking out, and his feet were covered in socks to keep him warm.

“Yeah.” You breathed out, relieved that he agreed to come and you didn’t embarrass yourself.

Tom begins to dust off the couch and moves the popcorn bowl to the coffee table. He sloppily folds the blanket and fluffs the pillows.

“I might take a while, so why don’t you get comfy?” He suggests.

“Sounds good.” You hum and unwrap the scarf from your neck. Tom is by your side at an instant and takes it from your hand. He motions at your jacket causing you to unzip it. He shuffles behind you to help you remove your arms from the sleeves. You turn around to thank him while moving your hair to rest on one side of your shoulder. You catch him staring at you once again.

“What?”

“You just look really beautiful.” He immediately answers. You’re about to respond but Tom begins to talk again, “I—I know I have no place in telling you that, but you just are.”

“Thanks, Tom.” You quietly say. He nods and moves to hang your things on the coat rack. He’s about to head up the stairs but he turns around to look at you again.

“Can we talk after?” His tone is soft, as if he were afraid of breaking the peacefulness between the two of you.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can talk.”

~⏰~

You wait in the living room for Tom to get himself ready. You try to watch the movie but all you can think about was what Tom and you could possibly talk about. You knew it would be about the breakup, but what else was there to discuss?

You heard Tom make his way down the stairs. Your eyes avert themselves to where Tom was coming from. He wore a dress shirt that had white and cream colored stripes going down it, pairing the shirt with dark jeans and dress shoes. His outfit wasn’t too fancy nor casual, it was perfect for Christmas Day with your family.

The smell of his cologne lingered it’s way to your nose. You recognized the smell even months after not seeing Tom. It was the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday. He fell in love with it the moment you gave it to him and had been wearing it ever since. You honestly thought he would switch it up after the breakup, but according to your nose, he hasn’t.

Tom presents himself to you, standing a few feet away from where you were sitting. “How is this? Too much?”

“You’re good, it’s spot on.” You reassure him. Tom hums in approval before settling himself beside you.

This was it. You guys were finally going to talk.

Tom rubs his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. He looks at you over his shoulder, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”

“Or talked.” You add with a slight shrug. An awkward silence placed itself upon you two.

Tom was the first to speak, “I was a dick. I still am, but I was a dick back then for all the shit I put you through.”

You hesitate to answer but end up agreeing, “You were a dick. But we were both responsible for what happened.”

Tom shook his head, “No, don’t try to make me feel better. I know what I did was stupid and I should have been honest with you from the start. This was all my fault. I was a horrible boyfriend, everyone made me see that. Including my parents.”

Tom turns his body to face you, “I thought not telling you this would hurt you and I less, but it only made it a hundred times worse.” Your brows bunch together.

“What do you mean?”

“I know when we broke up I said a bunch of bullshit, but I just want to explain myself, please?” His eyes are pleading, almost glossy. You motion for him to continue.

“The thing that happened between me and her was all the studio’s plan. Though I’m not going to lie and say it was all their fault, because I also played a part in it. But that was how it started. They wanted us to put on a show and lead the fans on so it could be used as promo for the movie.” He admitted. Your mouth gapes at his confession. He was probably telling the truth, but it could’ve also been a front.

“And you’re telling me this now? What, did it take you eight months to come up with an excuse for cheating?” You angrily said. “And even if it was for promo, it’s still cheating, Tom! You knew you had a girlfriend when you agreed to go along with their stupid plan!”

Tom sighed frustratedly, rubbing his palms against his face, “I know, I know it sounds made up but I swear to you, (y/n) I’m telling you the truth!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about it from the start? Did you really think lying was better than telling me the truth? I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other, you literally broke so many promises, Tom!” You stood up, the anger fuming in you growing too much for your body.

Tom stood up as well, “I only lied to you to protect you! I thought it would be better if you thought we were drifting apart than telling you I had to be publicly seen with a girl that’s not you! By the way, I wasn’t the only one who was being dishonest, so were you!”

“No, don’t turn this around on me! I wouldn’t have to had lie about my feelings if you would’ve told me the truth! This was all your fault Tom, you’re the one who agreed to some stupid pr stunt.” Your finger jabbed itself into his chest as you told him off about his doings.

Tom took your jabs as he shamefully looked down at his feet. “You don’t think I know that?”

“I know this was my fault, (y/n).” His tearful eyes lock onto yours. His jaw clenched as he tried to stop his tears from falling.

Your hand comes back to rest at your side, “If you knew it would break us up, then why did you agree to it, Tom?”

“Because it was either actually breaking up with you or agreeing to some stunt that’ll make me seem like some Hollywood hotshot who gets all the women.” He confessed. To Tom, it felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. But to you it felt the opposite. All the new information seemed as if it were piling up on you, making you overwhelmed.

“If I chose neither of them, I would’ve been fired from the film and they were planning on blackmailing me, so I chose the second option. I know it wasn’t the best decision, seeing how we are now. But it was the only choice where I would still be with you.” He explains leaning forward to her closer to you. Your arms crossed to form some kind of protection for yourself.

You had just realized that Tom forced himself into a stunt just so he can still be with you. It wasn’t the best option, but he chose the option where the two of you could still be together. You sighed not knowing how to react, it all just seemed like too much.

“I—Tom you can’t just tell me all of this and expect everything to be okay between us.” You run your hand through your hair. Your eyes watering from the frustration.

“I understand why you would keep it from me, but why did you wait so long? You could’ve said that eight months ago and I probably wouldn’t have hated you as much as I do now.” Your nails dig into your skin.

Tom looks up at you, “You hate me?” He croaks out.

Your head tilts at him, “Why wouldn’t I hate you? I hate you—I’m supposed to hate you but I just can’t and I don’t know why. You’re just, you’re you and no matter how many times I try to hate you I just can’t.”

Tom shifts closer, his frame now towering over you. His fingers slightly brush against yours, causing a rush of electricity to shoot through your body.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything, I know I should have been honest and told you the truth. I know what I did wrong and I’m sorry.” He gently cups your face to look up at him. You missed the feel of his hands against your skin and couldn’t hold yourself back from nuzzling against his warm palms.

“I still love you so much, (y/n). I never stopped. I just—is it too late for a second chance? I know it’s not going to be the same as when we were together but I’m willing to try again. I promise I will try harder and I’ll be honest, I’ll do everything for you to be mine again. All I want is just another chance.” His thumbs brush against your cheeks. Your hands come up to grip onto his wrists.

“Tom, I don’t know.”

“Please (y/n), it’s been so hard without you. Please I just need you again. I miss you so much, everything’s been going wrong ever since you left and I feel empty. I’m not complete without you.” His voice cracks as he begs for you to give him a chance. You stare at him for a moment and your mother’s voice echos in your head.

“He’s probably stuck here for a reason, (y/n).”

Maybe your mother had a point. Things happen for a reason and maybe this was one of this moments.

Your thumbs stroke the skin of his wrist, “Fine, I’ll give you another chance Tom.”

A look of relief is on his face as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his chest. You feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest as he shoves his face into your neck.

“Thank you.” He mutters against your skin multiple times. “I promise I won’t screw it up, I’m serious.” He pulls away to make sure you’re looking into his eyes.

“I’m trusting you to keep that promise. You’re only getting one chance, Tom.” You warn him. Tom nods eagerly.

“I know, I know, I’m not going to mess this up I swear. I’m going to prove that you could trust me again, I’ll do anything.”

You smile before pressing a light kiss on his cheek, “Ok, if you’ll do anything, then we better get going. Mom’s probably wondering what’s the hold up.”

“Right. Yeah, um before we go. If you want to talk more about what happened before or have any questions, you could ask me anytime. I just dumped all of this on you unexpectedly and it probably feels like a lot.” He offers.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

~⏰~

You and Tom arrived at your house to Christmas music blaring from the tv’s speakers and the happy chatter of your family. Your mom spots Tom at the doorway and her face lights up.

“Tom, you came!” She climbs her way through the mass amounts of wrapping paper and your niece and nephews. Tom meets her halfway and helps her remove the wrapping paper that had stuck onto her pants. She pulls him into a hug, which Tom returns immediately.

“Thank you for inviting me.” He smiles as your mom pats his cheek fondly. She waves him off, “Please honey, no one should be alone for Christmas.”

They continue to talk as your mother leads him into the living room. You see him greeting your siblings and cousins, a shy smile on his face as he shakes their hands. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he interacted with your family. It made you feel whole and warm inside, as if the emptiness in your heart was finally recovering.

You were taking off your boots when a shadow fell upon you. You look up to see Tom standing above you. “Need help?”

“No, I almost had it, the knot’s too small for my nails to undo it.” You mutter as your fingers continue to fumble with the knot. Tom kneels in front of you and gently removes your fingers from your boot.

“Let me do it, I know how fussy you get when you mess up your nails.” You smile fondly at him. The fact that he remembered how you hated messing up your nails after getting them done made the butterflies in your stomach erupt.

He gets the knot undone successfully and pulls off your boot. He holds a hand out for you and you take it. You stand up and thank him before glancing at your clothes.

“I’m gonna go upstairs and clean myself up for lunch. I’ll be back.” You place a hand on his shoulder before turning to go up the stairs. You feel his hand grip onto yours, pulling you back.

“I’ll save you a seat beside me?”

You squeeze his hand, “Yeah, I appreciate it.”

He watches you head up the stairs till the moment you turn the corner. He couldn’t believe you were back in his life. You haven’t changed at all in the months you’ve been apart. You were still beautiful and radiant as ever. He was so thankful for whatever gods that allowed him to have a second chance with you. You were all he wanted and he wasn’t going to screw it up like last time.

Your mother had called for everyone to sit at the table and you still weren’t there. Thirty or more minutes had passed since you went upstairs and so far he’s been catching up with your siblings and cousins. He’s also been dragged into playing “race cars” with your nephews and “princesses” with your only niece. Everyone had slowly shuffled into your dinning room but you were still missing. Tom even hung back in the living room for a while to see if you would catch up.

You mother spotted Tom looking back at the stairs as he decided to join your family in the dining room. She approached him and turned him towards the stairs, “Why don’t you go and check on her, tell her lunch is ready.”

Tom nods and climbs up the stairs. He’s been to your home multiple times while you two were together so he wasn’t lost. He found your door and knocked on it.

“I’ll be down in a sec!” He hears you yell from behind the door.

“Your mom said to call you down for lunch and see what’s been taking you so long.” Tom leans against the wall as he wait for you to open the door. The lock clicks and you pull it open. Your hair was in loose curls and there was some light makeup on your face. You weren’t in the jeans and sweater you were in earlier, now you were dressed in a white sweater and grey knee high boots.

“Hey.” He greets you. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” You close the door behind yourself and stand across from Tom. He notices a shimmer around your neck. The silver chain with a circle charm hanging from it caught his eyes.

“You still have that?” He points out stepping closer to you. You glance at the necklace, “Of course I do. You gave it to me for my birthday.” Your fingers envelope around the charm, fiddling with it.

“You look stunning.” He says.

“Thanks.” The two of you stand there for a moment before Tom’s stomach grumbled.

“I think we should get going.” You laughed as you hooked your hand with his.

The two of you sat side by side at the table. He was a gentleman as always. He pulled your seat out for you and pushed it in once you were settled. He helped passed the dishes to you and even insisted on placing the food onto your plate. Lunch had gone smoothly, it was only filled with laughs, some catching up, and the stories your parents would tell at the table every year.

Your parents were in the middle of retelling their first Christmas together with your older brother, their first born. Your parents were reminiscing about the pearl ring your father gave her and how much it meant to her. You were listening to your parents when you felt a hand grip onto yours under the table. You glance down to see Tom had placed his hand above yours. His large hand enveloping your smaller ones.

“You alright?” You lean closer to him so only he can hear you. Tom squeezes your hand as a small smile forms on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m just glad to be here. Thank you.” He whispers. Your other hand covers his, your thumb stroking the top of his hand.

“So am I.” For the first time in those months apart, you finally felt like everything was complete again. Sure, you two had many things to work out and discuss. But right now, all you can think about was the man sat beside you. You weren’t missing him anymore, he was right there beside you. He was actually with you. All you wanted for Christmas was the one you’ve been missing and after eight long months of pain and longing, your wish finally came true.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #tom holland headcanon #tom holland drabble #tom stanley holland #Peter Parker #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagines #ally’s requests

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