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avintagekiss24 · 4 years ago

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—belated; bucky barnes

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4738

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings

squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge

request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain

author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)

gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics

James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.

One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.

Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.

Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.

After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.

The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?

Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.

He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.

Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.

Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.

“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”

His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.

Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.

Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.

You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”

“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Well, duh. Why?”

He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”

So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.

The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.

Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”

“Not true.”

“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”

“How is that my fault?”

You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”

“I have to work. You know that.”

“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”

He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.

And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.

But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.

You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.

Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”

He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.

Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.

The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.

“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”

Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”

A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”

The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.

Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.

You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”

A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.

“That requires an answer, honey.”

The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”

He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”

Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.

The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.

“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”

He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.

“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.

When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.

A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”

He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.

“I don’t think—“

“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”

You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.

If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.

Well, you like being his prey.

Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.

The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.

Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”

That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.

Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.

“Lean forward, kitten.”

Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.

He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.

There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.

Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.

You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.

Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.

He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.

You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”

Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.

“You want me to fuck you, girl?”

The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”

That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.

You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.

Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.

The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.

He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.

It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.

You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.

Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.

He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.

“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”

The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.

“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.

You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”

He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.

He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.

Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.

The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.

Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.

Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.

It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.

He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.

You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.

Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.

He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.

Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.

You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.

“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”

So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.

“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.

You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”

#bad things happen bingo #buckybarnesbingo2021 #ssb2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #5k...holy god

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astromaki · 3 years ago

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part 3 of second choice ; ceo!shoto todoroki x gn!reader (x ceo!katsuki bakugo) (1617 words)

part 1. part 2. (previous) part 4.

tw ; angst, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, degradation, divorce, mention of alcohol, bad language, slightly suggestive ?

EXTRA INFOS ;; all the characters are aged up obviously (they are 30 here), the point of view of this third part is from shoto todoroki !

confrontation. [7 : 16 pm]

a week has passed since he came home that night drunk. that he had begged momo to stay with him. that he had accidentally seen those divorce papers crumpled by your hands.

momo had seen them too that night, and yet she and shoto had not commented on them. good, he wasn't in the mood anyway.

it had become almost official, even the media had it on their front pages. "one of japan's richest couples on the verge of divorce?", "billionaire todoroki single again?" "y/n, will the heir.ess of their father's company return to being a lawyer?"

he would have liked to say that he cared what you thought about it. if you cried, screamed, were you hurt ? but that would be lying, you were the least of his worries.

and then, wasn't it what he wanted from the beginning ?

that you would end up hating him so much that you would leave him. that he could finally be free of the weight that you represented every day.

and yet his signature was still missing.

"you can't even love your partner properly, and now i hear through the media that a divorce is on the way ? you're pathetic son. i knew i should have married them to touya. " enji's heart-attack voice echoed terribly through the phone, which made shoto sigh. he was even pretty sure he could hear it from across town.

"calm down." shoto said in an annoyed tone. "your marriage isn't a success either, so keep your remarks to yourself. bye. "

"you idiot, don't you dare hanging up on me. i don't care if you can't satisfy your s/o, i don't care if they feel bad about this arranged marriage either. but y/n y/l/n comes from a very famous lawyer's family, so get a divorce and the amount of money you have to give will be huge. "

"i manage them, it will not be a problem. i have to go now. "

the young man finally returned to your room, looking exhausted, his tie loosened and ready to down a few glasses of whiskey.

however, he was surprised to see you. dressed in a beautiful versace dress/suit, you were glowing. well no, he meant that you looked... good.

though, it was the first time he took the time to look at you. to admire you.

the young man finally met your indifferent gaze through the mirror you were standing in front of. that gaze that was so joyful and sparkling at the beginning of your marriage, full of hope to transform this purely financial union into a love marriage.

but that look, devoid of emotion, almost made shoto, Japan's most ambitious ceo, doubt himself. almost.

"i'm surprised you're still using my card to splurge. how much is this one? $1000 ? $2000 ?"

he was tired, exhausted. nut the truth is he was in the mood to be a pain in the ass tonight.

"$ 8,330. plus the $800 pair. " you replied coldly.

your answer was like a slap in the face to your husband. not because of the price, he didn't give a fuck about this.

but this tone right there. it wasn't like you. you were normally so gentle, patient even with the worst of the crap he put you through. that naive kindness that made him want to vomit was completely gone. he didn't expect such a turn of events.

"so you decide to divorce me, but first you want to empty my bank account? you're exactly as I imagined." his look that used to reflect nothing but fatigue was now full of contempt for you.

you finally faced him. shit, he couldn't help but find you beautiful.

"here todoroki, let's talk about the divorce. " you began, quietly walking over to the cabinet and pulling out a stack of documents. "i've signed it, sign it, and i'll take it to my lawyers first thing in the morning.

he snatched them out of your hand and threw them across the room. you didn't even flinch, you even held his gaze. poker face.

a loud silence fell between you. a long silence, uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. heavy and light. sensible and meaningless.

"what's all this about ? who put you up to this ?"

a wry laugh escaped your lips. your new behavior puzzled shoto. he loved and hated what he had in front of him. a challenge.

"you think i need someone to make me realize that i deserve better than an asshole like you ? fuck, let me laugh. "

your hand went to retrieve a piece of paper from your purse. and it was slammed hard against his chest. bakugou’s business card.

he found your face inches from his, your warm breath gently caressing his cheeks. a scent of whiskey filled his nostrils. you were not sober.

"how many drinks are you on? " he asked quietly.

"so now do you care if i downed a whole bottle or not ? oh please shut up. because now that you mention it, your friend bakugou katsuki may have hired me. to be his company's business lawyer. isn't that funny? "

you turned your back on him, unaware of the state you'd put him in. but damn, it was like he'd just been slapped in the face. nausea took over his whole body, his legs became heavy and weak in few seconds only. and he knew damn well it wasn't fatigue.

so you were leaving him, but on top of that you were going to work for his number one competitor ?

he didn't know what hurt more, the knowledge that bakugo had won one of the most competent lawyers in the field or that you were leaving him for him ? was he jealous ? surely not, it was another feeling that repulsed him. he didn't even know.

"have you lost your tongue todoroki ?"

todoroki ? since when did you call him by his last name ? where are the darlings or my heart that used to annoy him so much ?

you finish getting ready, now wearing your long jacket. he had lost his tongue indeed, he didn't know what to say to you. what to do.

y/n y/l/n, you had succeeded in putting your husband to the wall.

but it was only for a moment. he quickly, too quickly, pulled himself together. his usual irritated expression returned.

"you don't see that he's using you to get ahead of me ? i thought you were smarter than that. "

he took a step forward, slowly but surely. like a predator approaching its prey.

"he doesn't care about you. just like no one has ever cared about you, not me, not him and not your bourgeois family. that's why they put you in a loveless marriage so easily. "

a mirthless laugh escaped from his lips.

"y/n, this bastard doesn't give a damn about you. "

you tried to move towards him, ready to slap him, but the alcohol made you capsize and stumble on your carpet. he arrived just in time to support you with his muscular arms. an annoyed sigh resounded in the large room when your sob reached his ears.

nevertheless, a petty smile stretched his lips. there you were again, the fragile and unassertive y/n finally in his arms.

that bakugo had managed to turn your brain inside out. yet shoto knew you better than anyone else. he knew you. better than you knew yourself. you were that puzzle he had managed to decipher long ago.

"that's not true. kacchan wouldn't do that...", you whisper.

"you know i'm right, sweetheart. you know i'm the only one who's honest with you. my love for you is all you need. "

his muscular hand gradually, peacefully, came to caress your back to take off the buttons of your dress. his lips came to meet yours, to draw you into a long, languid, unsentimental kiss. your lips asked for more, your whole soul asked for more of shoto. more of this man for whom your heart never stopped beating. even if his was vibrating for another woman.

you wanted to feel his lips making love to you sensually, sincerely.

you just wanted him to love you for one night. one fucking night.

shoto was ecstatic. he could already see himself opening a bottle of champagne with his father, to celebrate the divorce that would never happen. tonight, shoto had brought out his best acting skills. millions were at stake. he had brought out his best kiss. he had never touched you like that. so gently, so carefully.

he had never called you by any affectionate nickname.

he has done too much to keep you around.

and you were drunk, not stupid.

you finally stood up, moving away from him, reluctantly. nothing he said was true. from his love for you, to his accusations against katsuki.

awkwardly, you put your dress/suit back on properly.

"i have a meeting with my future employer mr. bakugou tonight. i'll be late. don't wait for me, i'll sleep at the hotel tonight, with your card. "

a red color came to his cheeks. anger ? sadness ? jealousy ?

he had never seen you so determined, so proud. and that attracted him. he was going to lose millions, no matter what. but it was you who was going to escape him. for that bastard bakugou katsuki.

the nice little y/n was no longer shoto todoroki's.

AHHH omg sorry sorry i told you i can't do a fluffy end!! >< (comments and reblogs are appreciated <3)

🔖 tag list ; @nveusii @angelofthorr @missmolliemoo @jazzylove @loki-an-idiot @deepestranchgoopdeputy @mhasimp666 @shotorozu @chscklvr @devilsbooksworld @marshmallow12345 (ones in bold cannot be tagged)

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?”

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?” Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,” you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

Text

Always You | JJK (Nine-pt1) (Final)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, protected sex, jealous!oc, sensual touching, dry humping, oral (female rec.) face riding

Notes: The end is finally here! But no worries I will most likely do drabbles for you guys:) Thank you SO much for reading this story and sending so many loving comments. Enjoy this last chapter of ‘Always You’ and feel free to send me an ask to chat about the story, I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @hsneptune @betysotelo18 @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @bunnyjeonjk @surfacesanity @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19 @hardcarrykookie @fancycollectormoon

Previous ---Next

~~~~~~~~~

December

Jungkook stares into his bathroom mirror and sees and feels nothing, absolutely nothing. He looks into his eyes and see nothing behind them. He tries to smile, but falls short. Does this have anything to do with the fact he told you he loves you but you completely misunderstood him? Yup, it probably has everything to do with that.

But Jungkook also feels like shit. He let his feelings become too overwhelming in the moment that he totally and completely forgot he has a girlfriend. So, he is almost glad that you most definitely thought he was just telling you he loves you like one normal friend to another instead of him confessing his deep and passionate feelings towards you. Yup, totally glad.

So, now he looks into the mirror and actually does see and feel something: Shame. Guilt.

And regret. Regret is written all over his face. Not regret because he told you he loves you, no. Regret that he didn’t tell you 4 years ago how he feels. Even if you didn’t feel the same he thinks he should have had the courage, instead he slept with you like a fucking idiot. But that is something he can’t get himself to regret at all…he just can’t regret that amazing night he shared with you.

“Bro! You have been in there for like ever dude, I gotta take a piss!” Jungkook hears Nick from the other side of the door, his insistent banging going completely ignored by Jungkook.

“Seriously man, I will pee in the fucking sink!” Nick threatens and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah man, I’m coming.” He looks into the mirror one last time before taking one deep breath and turning towards the bathroom door.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Jungkook says as he opens the door with Nick already pushing past him.

“Fucking finally!” Nick doesn’t even bother to shut the door behind him as he quickly approaches the toilet to release himself.

Jungkook walks into his room and pulls out his phone as he sits on the edge of his bed. He goes through his message threads, his fingers hovering over your name when he gets to you.

It’s been a few weeks since the trip to your parent’s house. He had such an amazing time. That Saturday your mom cooked one of her famous homemade meals…something Jungkook hasn’t really had in years. Your dad would casually slip in the word ‘son’ in conversation, making Jungkook’s heart glow. You laughed and talked and cried and just looked so at home the entire time, like all your worries were vanishing.

He knows you’re struggling with what to do…but going abroad? Were you serious? You mentioned it to your parents too while there visiting and they loved the idea…making Jungkook’s heart sink. They just encouraged you more while you were there…telling you it was such a fun, and great idea and that it totally suits you. This only made you feel more motivated…Jungkook could see that.

Jungkook wants nothing but the best for you…he just wants you to be happy. Your happiness is his happiness but how could he survive if you left? How could he go a day without seeing you? Or worse…a week? A month? A whole fucking year? He went three months without you and he spiraled pretty bad.

Jungkook continues to sit here, his fingers right over your name and he clicks it.

Jungkook 8:14pm

I have a cold beer with your name on it

y/n 8:21pm

:( I cant hang tonight, sorry boo…im hanging with yoongs and tae. You can come by if youd like to?

Jungkook 8:22pm

No no its okay, you have fun :))

Jungkook brings his phone to his chest, right over his beating heart and he sighs out in frustration. Why can’t everything just be easy? Why is everything so complicated?

~~~~~~~

“And I will be the youngest curator they’ve ever had at this museum!” Tae finishes proudly, cheering his wine glass with yours and Yoongi’s.

“That’s so amazing Tae.” You bring your glass back to your mouth and take a gulp in his honor.

“Proud of you, kid.” Yoongi smiles fondly at Taehyung and you can’t help but also feel very proud. Taehyung got offered the main curator position at the museum of art downtown and you three are at the record shops cozy corner celebrating.

“Anything else new going on?” Taehyung asks, he eyes both you and Yoongi. “Like, any new love interests? Job offers? Juicy drama? Literally anything.”

“Nothing from me.” You laugh, you and Taehyung look over at Yoongi who is sipping his wine with the biggest blush painted on his cheeks.

“Yoongi?” you pry. “Did something new happen with you?”

“Well…I wouldn’t really call it news.” He begins shyly, “But I maybe met someone.”

You and Taehyung share a look of shock and excitement.

“Wait dude, you mean like a romantic interest?” Taehyung asks, setting his glass down on the table.

“Yeah, like you have a crush on someone?” You smile at Yoongi and his blush deepens.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he admits, “But they’re really nice and have been coming in the store every week and we sort of just end up talking…and they asked for my number—”

“This is definitely a romantic interest!” Taehyung basically shouts. “Did you give it?”

“Yes…” Yoongi takes another sip of his wine, his eyes sliding to the side. “Did I mention they’re cute?”

“You in fact, did not mention that.” You say with a grin. “I’m happy for you Yoongs.”

“I think I’ll ask them out, what do you guys think?” Yoongi whispers.

“I think that’s a great idea man!” Taehyung basically shouts again and you laugh.

“I think I really admire you for going for it…” You sigh. You wish you had that kind of courage.

“You know…” Yoongi sets his wine glass down, and turns in his seat to face you, “It takes a lot of bravery to open up to someone…it takes a lot of strength to admit when you’re wrong and to admit when things aren’t going right. It takes real courage to open your heart to someone like, romantically. You’re like, the coolest human being in the world if you can do those things.” Yoongi folds his hands out in front of him, he bites his lip as he thinks.

“y/n…you don’t have to be some sort of super human.”

You tilt your head in confusion…you thought Yoongi was going to a place where he tells you to go for it too.

“You shouldn’t always be the one doing things. Others need to form the courage too. You’re worth it. You’re worth that risk…that you may not feel the same. Trust me, I would know.” He chuckles light heartedly. “I think he will come around.”

“I don’t know about that.” Taehyung cuts in. “I want to believe he will but…” Taehyung looks over at you with pity. “…He’s…” Taehyung doesn’t know what to say without spilling anything so he decides to let the words die on his tongue.

“To be honest with you guys…” You reach for your glass of wine and chug back the remainder of what’s in the glass rather quickly before slamming it back down on the table.

“New Year’s Eve.” You say. “Four years ago. Something happened. Something major, he…”

“Four years ago, New Year’s Eve?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together as he tilts his head. “Wait something happened between you two?” you only nod your head at Taehyung’s question.

“Did Jungkook say what he wanted to say?” Taehyung asks with big eyes, completely shocked, this is news to him. But now it’s your turn to tilt your head in confusion.

“Say what he wants to say? What are you talking about?”

“Huh? Uh,” Taehyung guesses it’s not what he’s thinking. “It’s nothing. So what happened?”

“We slept together.” You blurt out quickly, giving yourself no time to regret it.

You hear Yoongi chuckle from beside you and you snap your head in his direction.

“What? What’s so funny?” you ask.

“You thought I didn’t already assume that? That you two haven’t already slept together?”

“Damn,” you say, “Observant as usual.”

“WAIT WHAT?” Taehyung sputters out, quite fucking loudly.

You guess Taehyung isn’t as observant.

“We got kind of drunk, kissed at midnight and went back to his dorm and you know…”

Realization hits Taehyung hard. When Jungkook was pissed about the fact Taehyung slept with you it wasn’t just because he was some heroic friend. It was also because Jungkook has already had you and he knows he doesn’t like to share. Fuck.

“Holy fuck, y/n.” Taehyung closes his eyes for a moment, “Wait, and you guys didn’t talk about it after? Didn’t he have something to tell you perhaps?”

“What are you talking about? He totally brushed it off. So I got bitter and didn’t talk to him for a month. Now we just…I don’t know, we just…I feel like we are more than friends but less than lovers.”

“Makes total sense.” Yoongi adds, “You two are that but more than anything you two are complete and total idiots.” “Well, that we can agree on.” Taehyung grins.

~~~~~~

It’s the middle of December meaning it’s time to do your Christmas shopping! You, Trina and Holly are at the mall perusing around and trying to find the perfect gifts.

“Let’s do what we always do y/n.” Trina bumps her elbow into your side, with a smile on her face.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You respond.

“And what do you two always do?” Holly asks, feeling a little left out.

“Oh you know, we agree to no presents.” You say, “One less person to stress over, that’s our gift to each other.”

“Wow.” Holly deadpans, “You guys are so lame.”

“Or are we geniuses?” Trina asks with a grin, she walks closer to Holly and links arms with her, “But don’t worry Hol, I am getting you something.”

“Good.” Holly says, a shy smile making its way on her face.

“Me too!” you say trying to include yourself. “What would you like anyway? Just show me and I’ll buy it for you!”

“That takes out all the fun in gift giving.” Holly pouts, “It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

“Ah, fuck.” Trina spits out, “I suck at gift giving. Just tell us what you want.” She whines.

“No!” Holly laughs. “Look, I’ll be back.” She gestures towards her left, “I gotta use the bathroom.” She waves at you and Trina and walks away.

“Dude what am I going to get Holly?” Trina asks you, her frustration as clear as day. “It’s got to be special.” She adds in shyly. Special? Now’s your time to finally ask her what is up with her and Holly.

“Why special?”

“Oh you know.” Trina’s sheepish grin gives her away. “I don’t got to say it, when you know.”

“Fair enough.” You laugh. “Oh!” you point towards the window of one of the stores to your right, “You see those mugs? Let’s go check them out.”

“What why?”

“Christmas gift.” You say simply.

You both walk towards the glass window and eye the mugs, there’s a whole bunch but there’s a mug with music notes all over it and you’re reminded of the record shop and your two friends. You walk inside and grab three of them. Yes, three matching mugs for you, Yoongi and Taehyung. Even though Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee, he can still put whatever beverage he wants inside.

You pay for the mugs and have them wrapped in Christmas paper! You got some of your first gifts done with! Now you need to find something for Jimin, Jungkook, Holly and your parents. Crap, should you get something for the rest of the boys too? You’ll be seeing them on New year’s…maybe you’ll get them all scarves. That’s easy.

Jimin is easy, you know he’s been eyeing this channel necklace for far too long and you happen to be able to afford it for him. Jungkook isn’t easy at all. So you go with something simple, a new pair of chunky black boots that he’s been talking about for months. Your mom gets a necklace with her birth flower and your dad gets tickets to his favorite sports team…cheap tickets, sorry to your dad. Holly loves penguins so you find a cute penguin pin for her purse, you think she will love it.

Shopping takes almost the whole day, you, Trina and Holly are seated in the malls food court sipping on a smoothie.

“I am so freaking tired.” Holly leans her head on Trina’s shoulder as she speaks.

“Me too, girl, me too.” You respond. “But Christmas is soon!”

“Are you guys excited about going home?” you ask.

“Yeah, my parents promised they would take me ice skating like when I was a kid.” Trina chuckles.

“I’m excited too! What about you y/n?” Holly lifts her head from Trina. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Going home, of course. I’m bringing Jungkook with me.” You admit with a soft smile, “My mom and dad love him, they practically beg me every week on the phone that I bring him.”

“You guys are such a couple.” Trina rolls her eyes playfully.

“We’re best friends! He doesn’t have parents to spend it with so he’s coming with me, is that such a crime?” you say lightly.

“No, no. Of course not.” Trina rolls her eyes again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys get together during your trip.”

“Need I remind you he has a girlfriend?”

~~~~~~~~

Jungkook slides his dick in and out of Vanessa as she clenches around him, he holds her body up as he fucks her from behind. He’s been at it for a while but…

“I’m going to come!” She moans out, “Please tell me you’re close!”

“I—I” Jungkook tries fucking her faster and harder as she comes undone. But Jungkook is still trying, he’s fucking struggling. He screws his eyes shut and thrusts into Vanessa at a fast and hard rate but nothing is working.

“Sorry…sorry.” Jungkook begins to slow down, “I can’t. I just can’t” He admits, totally defeated. He’s tired. He eventually comes to a stop, and pulls out.

“I’m sorry Vanessa.” He says quietly, “It’s not you, I promise.” His voice is hoarse.

Vanessa stands and walks to the bathroom to clean herself up, when she returns she sees Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his pants back on.

“It’s okay, Jungkookie.” Vanessa’s smooth voice doesn’t waver as she speaks, “It happens.”

Jungkook runs his hands down his tired face before looking up at Vanessa, his eyes slightly watery.

“This isn’t fair for you, I should be able to fucking come.” He grits out. “At the fucking least.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“How are you so calm about this? Hm?”

Vanessa sits on the edge of the bed next to Jungkook, she breathes in and out before raising her head to speak to him.

“He wants to get back together with me, you know.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at her words. She couldn’t be talking about her ex, could she?

“Vanessa—”

“It’s okay. I said I no. Somehow I feel okay.” She smiles at him, it isn’t one of those coy or secretive smiles she mostly hands out but a real genuine smile.

“I think I just feel good that he wants me again but now I have the upper hand, you know? I’m the one with power.”

“You told him no?”

“And not even because I am supposed to be your girlfriend…but because I decided I need to respect myself. You’re right…what I was doing…it wasn’t healthy.” She admits, she shakes her head to rid herself of her bangs that keep falling in her eyes.

“I…I’m proud of you.”

“I want to be proud of you too.” She whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” she says quietly, “You’ll see eventually.”

“What does that me—”

“Let’s take a small break.” Vanessa tilts her head to get a quick look at him, “Just until New Year’s.”

“Vanessa—”

“We just need some time to like, miss each other? You know?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “You mean, break up?”

“Just a break. But technically yes, we aren’t together in the meantime.”

“Why?” Jungkook stands up, “We can make this work Vanessa.”

“Please stop.” Vanessa says more sternly. “It’s what I want. Just until New Year’s.”

Jungkook paces back and forth with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t understand why she wants this? Because he couldn’t come? All because of that? He stops pacing to stare at her and she’s already looking up at him with a sickingly sweet smile.

“Fine.” He says. “If that’s—that’s what you want.” He clears his throat and tries smiling for her, she all but nods her head.

~~~~~~~

“You ready?” you ask Jungkook when he walks up to your car. You came to pick him up, insisting that you drive this time.

“Yeah.” Jungkook shows you his bunny grin and you melt, you love that smile of his. He sets his bag in the backseat and walks over to the passenger door and sits down inside.

“I’m excited to spend Christmas with you and your family.”

“Oh, it’s going to be a handful. You’ll be meeting my grandma, some aunts and uncles and some cousins of mine.”

“And I cannot wait.” He repeats. “Do you have my Christmas present here in the car?” he smiles cheekily, “Just give it to me now.”

“Yeah, right. You have to wait until tomorrow dummy!”

“Hey, don’t call me a dummy.” Jungkook pouts. He leans back in the passenger’s seat and closes his eyes.

“Hey, you’re not thinking of taking a nap are you?” You reverse your car out of the parking spot at his apartment.

“Maybe.” Jungkook snickers from beside you, “If you don’t want me falling asleep, tell me something interesting.”

“I think I want to work on getting a TEFL.” You blurt out, “To you know, teach.”

Jungkook’s eyes stay shut as he processes your words, he thinks to himself carefully—he can’t react negatively. He can’t.

“That’s nice, y/n.” He settles for. “You’ll like it.”

“That’s it?” you twist your head to look in his direction, he opens his eyes and stares at you for a few moments.

“Eyes on the road.” Jungkook closes his eyes again.

“Jungkook…you aren’t sad I might be moving away for like, at least a year?” You grip the steering wheel tighter, “You know I would be leaving right?”

“What do you want me to say y/n?” Jungkook opens his eyes and leans forward, “Want me to tell you no? That you aren’t allowed to leave?”

“Well…no. But you could act like you care a little.” You whisper out in pout.

“I do care.” Jungkook huffs, “But I just want you to do whatever makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.”

Jungkook quirks a brow and smiles, “So, you want to do me?”

“Gross,” you reach over and hit his arm. “You know what I mean. I just…I mean I value your opinion.”

Jungkook’s smile begins to fade as he stares at the cars floorboard. He zones out for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say. While it is true he wants you to do whatever makes you happy he also doesn’t want you to go anywhere.

“Do what’s best for you baby.” He all but whispers. “I will believe in you and support you no matter what.”

“I guess I’ll take that for now.” You whine. “How’s work going for you?”

“It’s good.” Jungkook’s eyes light up, “The director is letting me edit some pretty important scenes.” He gushes. “I brought my work stuff so I can show you over the next couple of days.”

“Yeah? That sounds exciting Jungkook!”

You finally merge on the high way for your few hour trip, you got your ‘Chillin’ playlist on and a few snacks on hand. You and Jungkook chit chat every so often but you mostly jam to the music.

“Let’s listen to Disney radio station!” You hand Jungkook your phone, “Hurry, put it.”

Jungkook takes your phone with a grin and selects the Disney option on pandora, the first song to come on is Lion King’s ‘Hakuna Matata’. You and Jungkook sing your hearts out, smiling, giggling and belting out the notes.

A couple hours pass like this, your throat getting admittedly sore. But Jungkook on the other hand is still going strong, he is singing all the parts in ‘Kiss the Girl’ with such passion…you can’t help but chuckle as you listen to him.

“Phew, I am worn out!” you say, laughing. “But I see you can keep going?” you turn the volume down.

“Oh, we can switch it up…but to answer the question you know I can keep going.” He winks. And you know he meant that innocently but you can’t help but blush.

“Right.” You hand him your phone again, “Our trip is almost over…you can just put on a playlist.”

“Are you excited to see your parents again?”

“Well, I just saw them last month…but yes.” You admit, “Being home is always nice. My parents have been bothering me for weeks making sure you are actually coming with me for Christmas.” You chuckle, “They’ll be glad to see you.”

Jungkook grabs a hold of his ears in excitement, you can tell he’s genuinely happy as he sits here and smiles that smile.

“I’m glad to see them too. And I am excited to meet more of your family.”

“There will probably be misunderstandings…but don’t worry, I will make it clear we are just friends.” You nod your head as you speak. Jungkook just shrugs in response, just fucking shrugs.

“Isn’t that your house up there on the corner?” Jungkook points forward towards the house.

“Yup.”

When you pull into the driveway your parents are making their way outside, they smile at you and you wave from inside your car. You turn it off and turn to face Jungkook.

“You ready?”

“Yes.” He grins.

You step out of your car and your mom and dad are rushing to bring you in for a hug, they hold you close and you feel yourself feeling right at home. You begin to pull away and head towards the backseat when your mom grabs your arm,

“You two can get your things later—before bed, before bed.” She guides you towards the house, “And hello, Jungkook.” She smiles widely, “So nice you are here again! Let’s go see everyone!”

“Yes mam.” Jungkook says with a small smile, he walks forward and shakes hands with your dad.

“Nice to see you again, son.”

“Yes sir, you too.”

“Stop being so formal!” you look back at him, teasing. You and your mom walk to the front door, waiting for your dad and Jungkook to catch up.

The four of you enter the house, it smells like pie and cookies and warmth and you know, like Christmas. You hear the chitter chatter of your relatives filling the house and you want to smile. You can hear your cousins gossiping in the kitchen, you hear their children playing in the backyard (The back door is open), you hear your grandma snoring on your dads recliner, while your aunt and uncle quietly talk on the other sofas. You hear what it’s like to feel at home.

“Look who is here, everyone!” Your mom announces obnoxiously. “It’s y/n and Jungkook!”

First your aunt and uncle’s attention are caught, they nod your way with smiles on their faces and you head over to the sofas to hug them each. Your grandma stays snoring on the recliner and you giggle, classic grandma.

Next, your cousins are coming in from kitchen. Three of them to be exact, Daniel and his wife Larissa and your other cousin who is your age Manny. Daniel and Larissa have 3 beautiful children who are playing in the back, you can hear their giggles from inside. Manny is much shorter than you, she’s petite and curvy and really, really pretty. You go in to hug her first, she wraps her arms around you loosely.

“y/n!” she yells excitedly, “It’s been since last Christmas right?!” she asks, still holding on to you.

“Something like that.” You giggle, “Hi Daniel, Larissa.” You go in to hug them as well.

“Guys this is Jungkook.” You finally introduce the awkward boy, he stands here swaying from side to side waiting to meet everyone. He bows his head in greeting and everyone says their hello’s. All except sleeping grandma.

“Well, hello.” Manny smiles at Jungkook, “I didn’t even see you there, which is crazy because you’re like crazy hot—”

“Okay, Manny.” You try cutting in early enough, but are a bit late.

“Oh?” Jungkook eyebrows climb to up his forehead as he looks at Manny.

“I’m Manny.” She winks, “ You must be y/n’s friend, I presume?”

“Uh…”

“y/n!!!!” Your grandma comes up to you all, her sweet perfume filling the air around you. “You’re here, sweetie.”

“Grandma!” you lean in and hug her frail body, she smells like she always has your whole entire life, sweet.

“And this must be your boyfriend, Jungkook? I have heard so much about you, dear.” Your grandmas opens her arms, signaling Jungkook to lean in and hug her—which he does.

“Actually grandma—”

“You finally have a nice boyfriend, your parents have told me all about him.” she winks, “I am so happy for you sweetie, I think I can finally rest easy.”

“Rest easy?” you question, “No grandma you are mis—”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles at your grandma and she cheeses hard.

“You can call me grandma, dear.” She pats his back lovingly, “I want to hear all about you two. Shall we drink some tea together?”

“Boyfriend?” Manny asks, confused. “I didn’t know you guys started dating?”

“We aren’t—”

“Its new.” Jungkook cuts in. He slides his arm around your waist and you audibly gasp.

“What’s new?” Your mom walks up to you all.

“They’re dating.” Manny says, looking unimpressed.

“WHAT! Darling, get in here!” She calls your dad over, “Jungkook and y/n are together, together!”

“No we are—” you try cutting in but you feel Jungkook dig his fingers into your waist.

“THEY’RE TOGETHER?!” Your dad yells out, his excitement clear as day. You stand here confused as hell as your whole family starts congratulating you two.

“Wait, wait.” You try getting out but Jungkook leans in to whisper in your ear.

“We can’t disappoint grandma.” He says softly.

~~~~~~

“I met my Roy at a party too.” Your grandma says between sips, she holds her tea in front of her face as she reminisces.

“Was it love at first sight?” Your grandma asks, wiggling her brows. “Me and my Roy didn’t get together for quite some time so I don’t think it was love at first sight for us…when did you know?”

“Grandma…” you begin, “Can we talk about something else?” you beg.

“I knew only a few months later.” Jungkook admits shyly, he smiles at your grandma while bringing his tea cup to his lips. “I knew no one could take y/n’s spot. But I was content with being friends.”

Your eyes grow in size, his confession warming you up. You know it’s all for show but you can’t help what it does to you.

“I also knew after a few months.” You say quietly.

“Oh, how lovely!” Your grandma claps her hands together softly, “And now here you are! Jungkook…” Your grandma sets down her tea cup and looks over at Jungkook. “I trust you will take care of y/n no matter what, right?”

“No matter what.” He says quickly. “She takes care of me too.”

“And how does she do that?” Your grandma raises a drawn on brow.

“She is always there for me…she always tries to understand me even when I am in the wrong…she always tries to get to know me like she doesn’t already know everything,” he chuckles, “She always hugs me when I need it.” Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, “She really loves me and I can feel it.” Then his mouth falls open and his eyes expand a little, “Do you… love me y/n? Like—”

“Okay, that’s enough about us babe,” you cut him off, “When did you get in town grandma?”

“Oh, just last night.” She mumbles, “I—”

“So,” Manny comes into the kitchen, her v neck lower than it was 20 minutes ago, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “What do you do Jungkook?” she leans down into his space, one hand squeezing his bicep as she asks her question.

“Um, I work as an editor for a film company.” His eyes shift to you and you roll your eyes again. “What about you?”

“Oh? Me? I work at a marketing firm. Was hoping to see y/n there.” She smiles at you. “But guess she didn’t apply? Maybe?”

“I didn’t get hired.” You state plainly. “But I didn’t want to work there anyway.” You grip your thigh in annoyance.

“y/n is probably too good for that company anyway.” Jungkook says, his hand reaches for yours and you relax a little bit.

“Right.” Manny nods her head exaggeratedly, “That’s got to be it…” she winks at you and you give a half ass smile.

“So Jungkook…” she finally takes a seat next to him, her hand still on his arm. “Film, huh? That’s soo cool. What do you do in your spare time?” she squeezes his bicep again, “Besides working out, of course.” She laughs.

Jungkook looks at you in panic, his eyes shifting from yours to his arm and you just roll your eyes.

“Manny.” You cut in, “How’s Luis?”

“Oh, we broke up.” She says smiling at Jungkook. “Nothing to worry about it.”

“And what’s to worry about,” you lean over and detach her fingers from Jungkook’s arm. “Hm?”

“Oh nothing.” Manny shakes her head.

“Manny, did you ever take my things out of the drier?” Your grandma speaks up, “Please put them in my room if you haven’t already.”

“Speaking of rooms.” Your mom and dad walk into the kitchen, their hands joined together.

“What?” you ask.

“Grandma is in Jungkook’s room. So Jungkook will have to stay in your room with you.” She says nonchalantly.

“Hm? Okay.” You shrug while Jungkook’s eyes widen just slightly. “Where are aunt and uncle sleeping? And Daniel and the rest? “Oh, we got a hotel.” Manny says, “Which sucks because it would have been fun to have a little slumber party.” She says in pout. You give her a tight smile and nod.

“Sure.” You get out, “Guess it’s just me and Jungkook for the slumber party.” You wink at her and Jungkook laughs as he squeezes your hand.

“Can’t wait baby.”

“Oh, you guys are gross.” Manny gags, “We get it.”

“Yeah, behave.” Your mom gives you a pointed look, “You’re still in your parent’s house.”

“Sorry, sorry. We’re just messing around.” You wave your hand, “Also, I can get your things from the drier grandma, I am going upstairs anyway to change.”

“Thank you sweetie.”

You let go of Jungkook’s hand as you stand up, he looks up at you in panic. You’re leaving him here with Manny?! He’s not stupid, this girl is clearly not caring about the whole boyfriend thing but he doesn’t want to make a scene by saying something to her.

“I’ll go with you.” Jungkook rushes to say earning strange looks from your parents. “Be—because I should bring up our bags from the car.”

“Ah, yes! That’s true, that’s true.” Your mom nods her head in agreeance, “You two go.”

Upstairs is much quieter, Jungkook thinks to himself. Just the background noise of muffled voices and occasional laughter. You two are in your childhood bedroom with both of your bags on your small bed. You are digging through your own luggage when you hear Jungkook clear his voice.

“What’s up?” you don’t look up to see him, you continue digging into your bag for some sleep shorts and a t shirt.

“This bed is tiny.” Jungkook groans, “How are we going to sleep on it?”

“I suppose one of us could make a palette on the flo—”

“—No.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I just mean, you’ll have to sleep super close to me.”

“That doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you suddenly?” you grab the small shorts from your bag and set them on the bed.

“W-What? No…” he admits shyly, his teeth on full display at he smiles at his own bag. “I was just saying.”

“Will Vanessa not like it?” you whisper as you find the t shirt. “Because—”

“Actually we—”

“—ask her?”

“No, it’s fine. Trust me.” Jungkook brings out his own change of clothes and stands here awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“I do trust you.” You breathe out, “We can just turn around and change.” You offer, already spinning on your heels and lifting your sweater over your head. Jungkook continues to stare at you until he’s hit with realization. He quickly turns around and starts changing as well.

“You sure let Manny touch you however she pleases.” You spit out quietly. Jungkook freezes mid shirt lift, his eyes growing in panic.

“It’s not that I was letting her…I just…I didn’t know what to do…I’m sorry—”

“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes even though he cannot see. “I’m just—it’s my fault. Me and Manny grew up together. The boy she liked in high school liked me…and ever since then she’s always…” you wiggle into your sleep shorts, slipping the material over your ass.

“Oh, I get it.” Jungkook slips on a new t shirt, “I’m done. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You both turn around, smiling sheepishly at one another. He’s wearing black sweats with a plain white t shirt and you in your sleep shorts you always use to wear around the apartment that use to drive Jungkook wild and one of his black t shirts.

“Hey, that’s mine.” He pouts, pointing at the shirt you’re wearing.

“Mine now.” You poke your tongue out. Jungkook pretends to reach over the bed to grab your tongue which makes you laugh.

“Don’t let Manny touch you again.” You blurt out, “I don’t like it.”

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip as he stares at you, he begins walking to the other side of the bed until he’s standing in front of you.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asks softly.

“It’s annoying to look at it.”

“It irritates you to see another girl touch me?”

“It’s irritating when that girl is my cousin.”

“Why does it matter who it is specifically?” Jungkook steps closer to you, he pushes his hands in his sweat pockets.

“I don’t want you to fuck my cousin, Jungkook. Sue me.” Your straightforwardness makes Jungkook chuckle.

“I wouldn’t fuck your cousin, y/n.”

“Yeah, because you have Vanessa.” You remind him.

“Actually we—”

“—we should head back downstairs.” You try pushing past him but he catches your wrist.

“Tell me why it irritates you so much.”

“I just don’t like it, Jungkook.” You huff.

“Are you perhaps jealous?” Jungkook lowers your wrist, but he doesn’t let go.

“Why would I be jealous?” You yank your wrist from his hold and push past him, walking towards your bedroom door. ��Come on.”

You basically told him you weren’t jealous but why did it have to happen that when teams were being chosen for this game night, Jungkook and Manny would get paired together.

The universe is laughing at you. Manny is…shameless. She has no problem flirting with someone else’s man…you’re no exception. You can tell Jungkook is slightly uncomfortable and not really enjoying the attention but still, somehow you are fuming. It’s not like he’s being exceptionally nice to her, he’s just not being standoffish enough to your liking.

“Oh, Jungkook!” Manny giggles for no reason, she leans into Jungkook’s space, just laughing away while sit you here and watch. He chuckles awkwardly, his hands messing with the playing cards in front of him. You hate this view. You thought any view with Jungkook would be a nice one, but you were wrong. Watching your cousin fawn over him like this is making you angry as fuck. As it should, right? Jungkook is your boyfriend! Well—not actually. But still! As far as Manny is concerned, Jungkook is your man, and she needs to back off.

“Manny, could you maybe give my boyfriend some space.” You snap, your voice cutting in through your family’s chatter. The room quiets down and all eyes are on you.

Manny looks all around the room, red creeping on her cheeks as she sits here, embarrassed. She opens her mouth to speak when you hold up a hand to stop her. Then you use that hand to gesture towards their bodies,

“He’s clearly uncomfortable that you are sitting so close, and frankly, I am too.”

“y/n…”

“And he’s too nice to say anything.” Your cold eyes look at her then they slide to Jungkook, “Which is something you need to work on babe.”

“I am not even sitting that close, jeez, you are as dramatic as ever.” Manny tries to roll her eyes, while subtlety scooting away. “And really? You try to call me out in front of everyone?”

“Oh? Should we talk in private then?”

“y/n.” this time the one saying your name is Jungkook. “Maybe we should go to sleep. Start new tomorrow, huh?” The tension between you and Manny too much for him to handle right now, especially in front of everyone.

“I think that’s a great idea.” It’s grandma. “It’s way past my bedtime too.”

“I think your aunt and uncle were just talking about how it’s almost time to leave too. Perfect timing!” Your mom chimes in, “Let’s all say goodnight.”

You don’t say anything to Jungkook as you peel back the baby pink duvet on your bed, you just stare down at your twin mattress with hard eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You continue to stay silent as you slip under the covers, scooting all the way towards the edge of the bed as far as you possibly can.

“y/n…” Jungkook pats in the last of his facial moisturizer into his skin, “I asked if you’re okay?” his back is facing you as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing his moisturizer back in his bag. “It was interesting,” (Hot.) “To see you all…protective,” (Jealous.) “Tonight.”

“I’m going to sleep.” You are laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling fan. “I don’t feel like talking tonight.”

Jungkook lays down next to you, his body so freaking close. He lays on his side, facing you. His right arm going under his head, trying his hardest to get comfortable in such close quarters.

“No talking, but maybe cuddling?” Jungkook whispers, and you of course hear it clear as day because he is so fucking close to you.

“Call me crazy but I don’t feel like cuddling with a guy who can’t even tell another girl to fuck off.” You shut your eyes. “Not in the mood.”

Jungkook blinks a few times, your words sinking in. You’re kind of right, he should of said something too but he didn’t know what to say. It’s your cousin! In front of your family! And he tried his hardest to lean away from Manny as much as possible.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re right. I should have said something.” His left hand reaches out to grab your hand that rests on top of your stomach.

“Yeah, you should have. But now I’m the asshole who called her out in front of everyone.”

Jungkook remembers it, and he darkly chuckles.

“Yeah, and it was hot.” He admits, making you open your eyes as you snap your head towards him.

“You think me being crazy jealous was hot?” you give him a look like he’s crazy.

“So you are jealous?” Jungkook smirks, “But I don’t see it that way. I see it as being protective over what’s yours.”

“So, you’re mine?” you turn to lean on your side, your body bumping into his. “At least until the end of this trip right?” you laugh, “I can’t believe you just don’t want to disappoint grandma.”

“At least until the end of this trip.” Jungkook leans his head closer to yours, “You finally brought home a boyfriend.” He grins as his forehead slightly bumps into yours.

What does Jungkook mean at least? And why does he always become closer and closer to you?

If you were to lift your head up at all, his lips would be dangerously close to yours.

“Jeez, how many fake boyfriends am I going to have this year?” you joke, keeping your head down, “I really got to find a real one by now.”

“I know the room is dark,” Jungkook begins, “But I still want to see your eyes when we talk.”

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk?”

“y/n…” Jungkook whines, “You’re still mad at me?”

“Not really, it’s not your fault. I’m just still pissed at the situation.” You admit quite easily. “It’s honestly so disrespectful of her. You’re my boyfriend. You’re my man. You’re mine.”

Jungkook’s hand settles over your waist, he grabs on and brings you in closer to his body. He inhales you, taking in your scent. You smell so good to him, he could inhale you forever. Your words echo in his mind as he snuggles you closer. Your man? His heart races faster and faster as the echo gets louder.

“I’m yours, hm?” he runs his fingers down your side, starting from your shoulder until the top of your hip bone. “Does that make you mine?” He breathes out, “Are you mine baby?” his fingers dance over your hips, your shirt and shorts separating his fingers from touching your warm skin.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out, closing your eyes from his gentle touch.

“Do I though?” Jungkook’s hand lingers over your hips, until he is playing with the end of your shirt.

“Let me touch your skin.” He softly begs, “It’ll feel nice.”

Your eyes open in surprise, what skin? Where will he be touching?

“Innocent, I swear.” Jungkook adds, “Just want to make you feel nice.”

“Isn’t that weird?” you finally ask.

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine.” You close your eyes again, “Touch me.”

Jungkook bites his lips when you give him the green light, he wasn’t expecting you to agree so quickly. Because what if it is weird? He just wants to touch your skin, no harm done. Jungkook leans up on his arms and tugs at the bottom of your shirt,

“I am going to slide this up a bit, okay?” he asks and you nod your head but you hear him chuckle.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe out, your eyes still closed.

Jungkook takes the material between his fingers and begins to slowly, very slowly ride the shirt up. His eyes have finally adjusted to the dark, where he can see you just enough. The shirt slides up your body, exposing your skin inch by inch. He gulps.

He lifts the shirt up until your pretty blue bralette is showing itself, your breasts falling to the side giving you a good amount of cleavage. He gulps again.

When the shirt is all bunched up at your armpits, Jungkook lays back down on his side. The cold air that spins in circles thanks to the fan is causing your skin to get goosebumps, your stomach feeling extra sensitive.

“Touch me, Jungkook.” You softly command. “I want you to.”

Jungkook swallows hard at your straightforwardness. His hand slowly creeps up to your shoulder, his fingers brushing against the material of the t shirt before he’s lightly dragging his fingers down your side. His fingertips hit your exposed skin, he lightly glides them down, just barely touching you. When he reaches your hip bone he dances his fingers lower until they’re grazing your lower stomach. His touch is so light it’s got your breathing getting just a bit heavier. He repeats his action a few times, starting from your shoulder until his fingers glide across your bare stomach. He’s right, it does feel nice. Too nice, almost.

“How do my fingers feel?” He clears his throat, his voice nice and low. Your eyes shoot open at his question. This is all innocent, but why does that question feel so dirty?

“They feel so good.” You breathe out, “So good.”

Jungkook smiles and continues sliding his fingers over your lower stomach, causing you to release a long, shaky breath. His touch is so fucking good, his touch leaving a trail of fire. As his fingers lightly skid across your stomach he leaves behind such heat. His fingers finally glide up, they barely reach right under your breasts. Your breath catches in your throat, his fingers so dangerously close to your tits and you want to smash your head on something. God, what it would feel like to have them being touched by his large hand.

Jungkook uses just his pointer finger to drag his finger down from the center of your lower chest until he’s passing your belly button, until he’s reaching your lower stomach again, his finger stopping at the drawstrings on your shorts.

You can’t help but release a long, quiet moan as his finger does that over and over. You clench your stomach muscles with each stroke of his fingers. Why does Jungkook have to make you feel so fucking good?

Jungkook feels himself getting hard against your thigh, but he doesn’t care to hide it. Touching your warm, soft skin feels so intimate and that moan you released? His cock needs to hear more. He grabs a hold of your hip, the material of the shorts in the way of your skin.

“Can I lower these a little?” he pants out. “Just a little.”

“Yes.” You feel your breaths getting heavier.

Jungkook slips his fingers under the shorts and slowly drags down the material over your hip, your panties sliding down as well. Jungkook grunts in approval, he thumbs your hip bone causing you to quietly whimper.

“You really like your hips and stomach to be touched.” He states.

“S-Sensitive.” You admit.

Jungkook massages the skin of your hip, very, very lightly. Almost like he isn’t touching you at all, like he’s just trying to tease you. And it’s working. You feel your breaths become more erratic. You keep your eyes closed as the light feeling of his fingertips begin to make you wet. You can’t help but slightly rotate your hips in circles as he touches you, and you can’t help but moan when he puts more pressure into his massage on your hip.

“You like that?” Jungkook breathes out, “Feel good?”

Your hips move faster underneath his electric touch, you start to become desperate, needing more. You finally open your eyes, Jungkook notices how dark and captivating they look. You reach forward until your own hand is at his shirt.

“Off.”

Jungkook looks at you, very confused. But he doesn’t waste another moment when he sits up and throws his shirt off.

“Good.” Your hands go to grope his chest. His strong muscles flex beneath your touch. You drag your hands down his chest until they stop at the waistband of his sweats, he throws his head back as you explore the front of his body.

“Want to touch you too.” You admit between harsh breaths.

Jungkook’s hand goes to the shirt bunched around your shoulders and tugs on it,

“Off too.” He guides you to sit up and he helps you take off your shirt. Your strappy bralette leaves almost nothing to the imagination, Jungkook thinks. The material is so very thin that he sees your hard nipples and he wants to brush his thumb over them. But he refrains.

“Much better.” Jungkook says in one breath. “Now lay down.”

You do as he says, this time you lay on your back instead of your side. You try breathing in and out normally but can’t help how irregular your breaths are.

“Jungkook.” You whine, “Touch me.”

“So needy.” Jungkook’s hand hovers over the top of your stomach, “My baby is so needy.” He whispers.

You reach up and caress Jungkook’s cheek, “I am.” You admit. Jungkook throws his head back, biting on his lip as he grins.

“Good girl.” His fingers lightly dance below your belly button and you whine. He glides his fingers lower and lower until they’re at your waistband.

“Going to pull these down…just a little.” His voice cracks as he stares down at you.

You nod your head and tell him yes over and over.

He drags the shorts just a bit lower, right before your pussy is exposed. His fingers lightly touch your new exposed skin, and you moan. The feeling getting you so worked up.

“I want to do the same to you.” You try say between your rough breathing. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.” Your hands go to his stomach, your touch anything but light as you drag your hands down with pressure. You reach the top of his waist band and begin pulling down until he’s catching your wrist.

“And what do you think you are doing?” Jungkook’s low, deep voice sends a shiver down your god damn spine.

“Innocent, I promise.” You mock, “Want to touch you too.”

“I think we have had enough,” he teases lightly, bringing his hand back to his own body. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Fine, cuddle me.” You say, annoyed. You turn to your other side, where your back is facing him.

“Fine by me. But…” He sinks down further into the covers to spoon you, one arm going beneath your head and the other pulling you in by the hips, “Remember what happens when we get in this position.” You feel his hard cock poke your ass and you moan out quietly.

“What happens?” you play dumb.

“4 years ago, you asked me to cuddle you like this because you wanted to get fucked.” he says easily and you choke on your spit. He’s referencing that night?

Jungkook is so lost in you, he doesn’t care anymore. He will bring up that night a million times if he has to. He loves you. And he’s starting to get real tired of the constant tension between you two. He pushes his hips into your ass, you feel how hard he is and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I also said this position makes me feel safe.” You play innocent as you bump your ass into his crotch.

“I make you feel safe?”

“You make me feel a lot of things.” You whimper, backing your ass further into his cock, it’s so hard and poking against you in such a way that drives you nuts.

Jungkook groans as he feels you circling your hips into his crotch. His hand goes to your hip and he squeezes tightly making you moan out.

“You got to be more quiet baby.” Jungkook warns softly, “We don’t want your parents or your grandmother thinking we are really having that ‘slumber party’.” He jokes.

“Then what are we having?”

“Just some innocent massages between friends.” He comments with a snicker.

“Oh? Is my ass massaging your dick so innocent?” you whine out, “I don’t really do this sort of thing with my other friends.” You keep your eyes screwed shut.

“It’s very innocent.” Jungkook teases, he begins lightly humping you. He pushes his cock further and further on your ass cheeks, he moans when you two find a rhythm. He remembers when he fucked you in this position, he remembers it well. How you sounded, how you smelled, how you felt. He memorized the feeling of you.

“Fuck, y/n…” Jungkook quietly groans out. He rocks his hips into you faster, and you hate everything. You want to touch yourself so bad. You want to slide your fingers down your shorts and rub your aching clit, you would like it even more if it was Jungkook’s fingers.

“Not fair…” you say in pout, arching your back.

“What’s not?” he pants.

“I want to feel good too…” you say, flipping to your other side, facing him. You scoot impossibly close until his cock is pressed against your lower stomach.

“Innocently, of course.” You throw a leg over his waist as your hands go to his chest to guide him to lay on his back. “Gonna make us both feel good.” Your eyes are glazed over in lust as you speak.

You straddle his hips and find the right placement in sitting down…his cock nice and snug between your clothed folds. You begin moving your hips until you have the right angle on your clit and you moan.

“Is this okay?” you breathe out and Jungkook nods his head quickly.

You begin rocking yourself against his clothed cock, he quietly whimpers at the feeling. Jungkook screws his eyes shut as his mouth falls open and wonderful panting leaves his lips. You watch him lose his composure as you hump him, you pick up the pace, becoming more and more desperate. Your clit is thanking you. ‘Thank you bitch’ it says.

“I—I can’t” Jungkook moans out, “I—I can’t do this.”

You immediately slow down, rejection sinking in. “What do you mean? You don’t want to do—”

“—I don’t want to do this with clothes on.” Jungkook groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “I need you naked. Fucking now.” He grits out.

You finally still as you process his words. Are you two about to fuck? Is this really a good idea? Again? But you are so far gone…you are so beyond horny that you are able to push your logical thinking to the side.

“Okay.” You look at him with lust filled eyes, “Take off my clothes.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen but he’s nodding his head so fucking fast it’s almost comical. He rushes to unclasp your bralette, your breasts bouncing as they are freed. He sits up, and you are graced with the sight of Jungkook’s mouth sucking on your tit. You arch your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the hardened nub. You throw your head back in pleasure, his hand giving your other breast all the attention it needs.

“Shorts, Jungkook.” You beg. “Take them off me.”

Jungkook detaches his self from your breast and looks up into your eyes and smirks,

“Say please, princess.”

“Fucking please, please.”

Jungkook’s hands quickly find their way to your shorts and your rise to your knees to help him slip them off your legs. Your panties go down with the shorts and Jungkook couldn’t be more pleased.

“Oh my god baby.” Jungkook stares at you with dark eyes, “Your wetness is literally dripping down your inner thighs. You are so fucking wet.” He comments and you smile shyly.

“You…” you begin to say.

“What about me?” he teases, his fingers grazing your inner thigh, he wipes some of your cum off your sensitive skin.

“You did this to me.”

“Yes I did baby. And I will take full responsibility.” He guides your body up his own, you follow his lead.

“Ride my face.” He commands as he lays back down, his hand in yours still guiding you when you stop abruptly.

“W—What?”

“Ride my face baby.” He tugs on your hand and you hesitantly make your way closer to him. You stop when you are hovering over his chest, knees on either side of his neck when you start to get shy.

“I’ve never…”

“Keep going,” his hands go to your hips and he’s guiding you further up until your pussy is hovering over his warm mouth.

“Now sit.”

“Jungkook—”

“I said, sit.”

And you do, you lower yourself over his mouth…you slam your eyes shut, feeling nervous. But then you are met with his wet, warm tongue. You stay still as he begins licking at you, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. You start to relax as the sensation fills you up, his tongue swirling around causing you to release a long, breathy moan. You can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth…the feeling even more spectacular. You try to keep quiet, you really do. But Jungkook’s tongue is quite literally fucking you.

“Ah, Jungkook.” You throw your head back, your eyes rolling all around as you ride his face faster. You feel Jungkook moan into your pussy, making you whimper even more.

You don’t know how much time has passed but it does not matter. Jungkook shows no sign of stopping anytime soon, his tongue working to make you feel so fucking good. You ride his face even harder now, your thighs shaking as you squeeze around his head.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You pant out, “I think I’m going to—”

You rock your hips as fast as you can as you feel your orgasm approaching, Jungkook’s hands squeeze your ass cheeks. He encourages you to rock against him even harder as he guides your hips. His tongue is laid flat against your clit as you ride him faster, you can feel how close you are. You thighs shake and you feel your pussy clench around nothing as your orgasm hits you. It hits you so fucking hard, like a strong wind that’s knocked you over.

“Fuuuuuucckkk.” You squeeze your thighs together, probably crushing Jungkook’s head as you come. You breathe so fucking hard as you try to hurry to come down from your amazing orgasm, you struggle to rise to your knees, so Jungkook helps lift you a bit until you are rising from his mouth.

You inch backwards until you are hovering over his chest, when he makes you sit down. You open your eyes, and take a look at the man before you.

His entire face is glistening with your cum and he looks so fucking happy about it. He’s trying to catch his own breath as he eyes you, his entire face wet with your cum. He is fucking grinning at you.

“You did so amazing baby.” He breathes out.

“That was incredible.” You admit. “Want to…” you start off hesitantly, “Want to fuck my mouth?”

Jungkook slams his eyes shut, and takes a few deep breaths before he slowly opens his eyes again.

“No…We should get cleaned up and go to sleep. Don’t you think?” he asks softly.

“Go…to sleep?” you ask, disappointed. “Sure.” You say kind of detached. “If that’s what you want.”

~~~~~~

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

It’s the next morning and you are trying your hardest to sleep away from Jungkook. But the bed is so small making it almost impossible. You didn’t sleep at all. Which feels unfair because Jungkook is next to you snoring away with a lazy arm thrown over your waist.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

Jungkook has a girlfriend but you and him…oh my god you made Jungkook a cheater. You are the fucking worst. You let lust win in this dangerous game you two are playing, you let it win and shove it’s victory in your face. You hate yourself. You feel so fucking bad! Vanessa may not be your favorite person but cheating is never okay.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

You wonder if Jungkook will feel these things too as he wakes up…you wonder if he will feel worse. Jungkook is a lot of things but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’s always felt strongly about the subject because of his mom and dad. Will he be weird with you? Will he feel worse than you? Will he be able to forgive himself?

Suddenly, Jungkook’s light snores go quiet and his arm is tightening around your waist just the slightest. He’s awake. He begins pulling you in closer to his body and then you feel his lips on your neck. He leaves just an innocent peck and then you think he may be going back to sleep with how comfortable he’s getting.

“Let’s get up.” You break the silence in the room, “I can hear people downstairs.”

“Oh, good morning.” You feel him smile on your neck, “Why don’t we stay here for just a few minutes?”

Has he not processed what he’s done? Where is his shame? His guilt? His regret? You feel sick.

“We really should get up.” You repeat. “I’m hungry.” You detach yourself from his body and rise from the bed. You don’t even look at him as you grab a change of clothes and exit the room to head towards the bathroom.

Jungkook is left on the bed wondering what’s up with you? Are you feeling awkward after last night? He thought you might be in a good mood…considering your orgasm…but instead your mood seems to be sour.

“Great.” Jungkook mutters underneath his breath. He gets up too, going to his bag to change for the day. When he’s done, he grabs his toiletries and makes his way to the bathroom. He stands outside the door, softly knocking. You swing the door open with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when you usher him inside.

“I’m going to wash up too…” Jungkook warns. He sets his small toiletry bag on the bathroom counter and takes out his face wash, moisturizer and tooth brush.

You nod your head as you continue to brush your teeth, toothpaste foaming at the corner of your mouth.

“How do you feel this morning?” Jungkook tries to make decent conversation as he applies his face wash to his face.

You spit out the toothpaste and rinse your mouth, wiping your face dry with a towel.

“Fine.” You spit out. “Just fine.”

Jungkook washes his face with water, and pats his face dry with a small towel, just nodding his head. He feels awkward.

“I feel fine too…” He adds, trying to add more to the convo. “Do you think grandma heard us last night?” he asks.

“Let’s not talk about last night.” You snap, “Can’t you read a room?”

You grab your things and leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook wondering what the hell he did to make you so mad. Did you hate it that much? Maybe in the past he would have thought that but now…he knows how much you liked it. Loved it even. Jungkook doesn’t feel as insecure as before, he just knows the only way to solve this is to talk to you. Communication.

Communication would be a lot easier if he was given a god damn chance at talking to you but your mom is keeping you so busy in the kitchen with your gossipy aunt’s chitter chatter filling every crevice of the room. You nod along, even laugh as you listen. Jungkook is in the backyard with the three kids, keeping them entertained as you, Manny, Larissa, your aunt and mom bake in the kitchen with grandma sipping her tea at the table. Your dad, uncle and Daniel are in the living room watching some show, clanking their beer bottles together in celebration. Today is Christmas eve. Apparently this is when your family does most of the major celebrating, you guys bake and cook all day, eat a grand dinner and open presents. And Christmas day you just eat leftovers and chill.

The youngest kid has grown quite fond of Jungkook, she tends to feel left out by her two older brothers. Jungkook plays with her and she has already formed an attachment making your cousin in law laugh at them fondly.

“Your boyfriend is great with kids! Lucky you.” Larissa winks at you as she rolls the cookie dough on the counter.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say plainly.

“y/n…what’s wrong?” Manny comes up to your side, “Trouble in paradise?”

“No, Manny.” You snap. “But I bet you would like that.”

“Girls, let’s not fight.” Your aunt cuts in while your mom just looks at you worried.

“I would hardly call it a fight.” You hear your grandmas sweet voice over everyone else’s. “Now how are those drop cookies coming along girls?”

“They’re coming.” You say. “If Manny ever finishes with the dry ingredients.”

“I told you I was almost done, chill out.”

“Girls.” Your mom warns, “y/n, why don’t you go keep Jungkook company?”

Your eyes go from your moms to outside where Jungkook is and you panic.

“No, it’s okay…he’s fine.”

“You know what?” Your grandma speaks up, “I think I will if you won’t.” She sweetly chuckles. She stands from her place at the table, grabs her tea cup and makes her way to the outside table instead, closing the backyard door behind her.

“Hi dear.” Your grandma nods towards Jungkook as he plays pirates with the boys. He is laughing and pretending to have a hook hand, while the boys giggle and run around. The youngest claims she is the lost princess and that Jungkook has to save her. Grandma watches with joy, loving how well he gets along with the children.

“Hi.” Jungkook says out of breath from playing. He tells the kids to keep playing and that he will return shortly, they beg and whined that he stay but he says if they keep playing he will steal them some of the first cookies. The kids nod their head aggressively in agreement.

“How are you this afternoon?” he takes a seat across from her.

“Why is my granddaughter mad at you?” She smiles at Jungkook and his face drains of all color.

“Um…what do you mean?”

“Anyone with eyes knows you two have been strange all morning and afternoon.” Your grandma brings her tea to her mouth, “Maybe Manny was right, there is trouble in paradise.” She smiles again, “The key is to talk to her. Find out what’s going on.”

Jungkook groans, throwing his head into his hands. He lifts his head up again to speak but decides to just groan again in frustration.

“She won’t give me a chance to speak to her.” He admits. “She’s avoiding me.”

“Make the chance happen.” Grandma advices, “You’re a good kid, Jungkook. Even though you decided to lie to poor old me.”

“Lie?”

“You think I really couldn’t tell that you’re not really dating my granddaughter? I’ve been around too long to get fooled by something like that. But I see your feelings are real. So are hers. So why aren’t you two together?”

Jungkook sits here, absolutely stunned silent. He doesn’t know how to respond! Grandma begins sipping on her tea again when she lowers it to speak.

“Go talk to her honey. I want to see my grandbaby happy.”

“I guess we don’t have to pretend anymore.” Jungkook finally speaks.

“No, no. Keep going, it is quite entertaining, dear.” Your grandma chuckles, “Plus, it keeps Manny on her toes. Best if she thinks you are taken. Once she finds out that you are single…I fear for your life, boy.” Your grandma laughs out loud, making Jungkook join her.

“Fair enough.” He says, “But how do I…how do I get her to talk to me?”

“I’m sure you know her better than I do.” Grandma points out, “You’ll figure out what works best for her.”

And your grandma is right, he does know you best. But what will work? When you have avoided things in the past he has usually been the one to force answers out of you. Now is no different.

All the baking for the day is complete, you sit down at the table in the kitchen and let your head fall to the table top. You moan out in satisfaction that you all are finally done…how unfair that the guys got to just chill all day? Your mom has been cooking with your aunt for Christmas dinner while you and your cousins worked on pies and cookies. And they sat and drank beer. Typical.

“Hey.” You feel Jungkook’s warm breath hit your ear and you look up at him, his face so close to yours as he is leaned down to speak to you.

“Can we talk?”

“Nothing to talk about.” You lay your head back down on the table until you feel your arm being pulled upwards, causing you to stand to your feet.

“Don’t be a brat. Let’s go.” Jungkook pulls you up, and starts pulling you in the direction of the staircase.

“Let go of me.” She say weakly, “I can walk myself.”

Jungkook let’s go of your arm and instead reaches for your hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours and you roll your eyes.

“I said, I can walk myself.”

Jungkook only shakes his head in response, guiding you up the stairs until you two reach the bedroom, you both walk inside as Jungkook closes the door behind you two.

“Now talk.” He softly commands.

“Nothing to talk about?”

“y/n…” he warns and you feel your eyes start to sting.

“We fucked up, Jungkook.” You blink back the stinging in your eyes, shame, guilt, and regret joining you.

“How so?”

“What do you mean ‘How so?’” you ask incredulously. “Do you not remember the events of last night? You have a girlfriend!” you throw your hands in the air, “You are a cheater! I’m the one you cheated with…oh my god…”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words and he starts shaking his head. He tries walking closer to you but you only step back until your back meets the wall.

“We fucked up.” You cry out. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jungkook asks softly. You are starting to wonder why this dude is not panicking.

“I made you a cheater.” You cry. Jungkook walks closer to you again until he’s wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You didn’t.” he whispers. “Vanessa and I…we aren’t together right now.”

You sniffle into his shoulder as you process his words…not together right now? What does that even mean?

“She broke up with me.” He begins to explain, “Said she wants to break up until New Year’s but I don’t think we will be getting back together.”

“Why not?” you whisper.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Oh.” You untangle yourself from Jungkook’s arms, “But you aren’t a cheater?”

“No.”

You sigh out in relief, a huge, long, heavy sigh. Thank God. You feel shame, guilt, and regret leave your body making you feel ten times lighter.

“So I have nothing to feel bad for?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook smiles at you, “Now can we go enjoy Christmas? I cannot wait to give you your present.”

You pull on your hair, feeling nervous suddenly. Is he just going to brush past this too? Are you two not going to bring up last night in more detail? Figure out what it means for you two? Are you two just friends who occasionally hook up? That’s not what you want. What do you want? “Sure.”

~~~~~

“Dinner was delicious, honey.” Your dad says reaching over to cup your moms cheek. “I think I ate way too much this year.”

“Oh sweetheart, you say that every year.” Your mom laughs, “What about everyone else? Eat enough?”

Everyone around the table groans in happiness, nodding their heads yes and complimenting the dinner.

“Well, I suppose we should get on to the presents portion of the evening?” Your mom stands from her chair, “Let’s all go into the living room around the tree.”

Everyone makes their way into the living room, you and Jungkook being the last two to make it inside. You two stand here awkwardly, not entirely too sure where to sit since it is a bit crowded. Your grandma points at you two with a cheeky smile.

“Mistletoe.” She yells out. “Mistletoe!”

You point at yourself in question and then at Jungkook. What mistletoe? Then you see Jungkook looking up and his face turning completely red. Oh.

“We really don’t—”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” you hear your various family members chanting. Your parents grinning like fools as they chant as well. Your grandma winks at Jungkook and Jungkook goes even redder.

“We don’t have to Jungkook” you whisper. Jungkook clears his throat repeatedly until his face begins going back to his normal color.

“No, it’s tradition right?”

“I mean, I guess.” You shrug, you begin to turn red yourself.

“C’mere.” He reaches for your hand and pulls you in to his chest, then his other hand goes to cup your jaw. “Just one kiss.” He whispers.

You feel all his body heat enter your body, his touch making you so fucking warm. You nod your head pathetically as you tilt your head up. Jungkook smiles down at you and leans in just a bit, his forehead pressing against yours. Your eyes go to his lips, they are pink and his bottom lip is plump. Jungkook leans lower until his mouth is hovering over yours and he very innocently pecks your lips. You wish his kiss had lingered longer but it is short but sweet. He leans away from you, his forehead still pushed up against your own when you surge forward and kiss him again.

You hear the hollering of your cousin Daniel and his wife Larissa, Manny probably pouting. Your aunt and uncle are giggling and your parents laughing but telling you to behave. Your grandma snickers to herself and starts softly clapping her hands together.

“I thought I said just one?” Jungkook teases, his hand lowering to his side but his other hand keeps holding yours.

“I couldn’t help myself.” You admit confidently “Now let’s do presents!” you turn to face everyone else.

“Agreed!” your mom yells out excitedly. “First, we have Manny from Daniel…”

The night continues, everyone exchanging presents. Your parents loved their gifts, your mom thought the necklace was very thoughtful and your dad says he would love to take you to the game with him. You give Jungkook your gift, he yelps in excitement when he unwraps his gift when he sees the boots.

“Thanks baby, I know I haven’t shut up about these shoes for months!” he leans in to hug you. “Now it’s my turn.” He grins.

He searches the tree for the last gift of the night: Jungkook to you. He grabs the box and hands it to you, a shy smile making its way on his lips.

“Here, for you.” He sits back and waits for you to unwrap it. Your parents and the rest of your relatives wait as well.

“Okay, here I go.” You begin unwrapping the box, throwing the gift paper to the side on the floor and are met with a brown box. You raise a brow at Jungkook and he just smiles widely.

“Go on,” he says, “Open it.”

So you do. You carefully open the box and pull out a wooden box—a music box. The top of the music box is glass with a photo of you and Jungkook, your heart absolutely melts into two.

“Open it, open it.” He urges excitedly.

“Okay…”

You lift the top of the music box, revealing its insides. Your absolute favorite song in the world starts playing and you feel the waterworks coming. This song means everything to you. He knows it is your favorite.

“Read what it says…” he mentions shyly. “There’s a message.”

I will always believe in you. I will always support you. And I will always love you.

You read the message to yourself a few times over and you start sniffling, a few tears leaving your eyes. You look up to make eye contact with Jungkook and he smiles. You close the box and slip it back inside the box and set it to the side, you crawl towards Jungkook and hug him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you throw your head into his shoulder, and you start mumbling your thanks.

“Of course baby.” He whispers into your hair, “I mean it.”

“I know you do…” you murmur. “I know.” You sniffle harder. “And I love you more.”

You, yourself aren’t entirely sure how you meant the words ‘I love you’ in this moment. You are so overwhelmed and overjoyed that you aren’t sure if you said it platonically or romantically. All you know is that you meant it.

“That’s impossible.” Jungkook chuckles. You slowly leave his arms, feeling embarrassed now that you’re crying in front of everyone.

“What did it say?” Manny asks, “You didn’t even share!”

“Let’s leave it between the love birds.” Your grandma says.

“Love birds indeed.” Your mom grins, “Well, Santa comes nice and early tomorrow!” she says to the kids.

“Are you sure about leaving them here tonight?” Daniel asks, “Santa can come to the hotel too.”

“Don’t be silly,” your mom says, “I will put them to bed on the sofas. It will be fine.”

“Okay, we will see you all bright and early tomorrow morning then.” Larissa begins packing up their things.

“Heading out already?” Your dad asks, “Well, take some food with you.”

You and Jungkook stay seated on the floor, as the rest begin cleaning up. Your mom picks up all the gift wrapping paper off the floor while your dad puts away gifts and you and Jungkook sit side by side.

“Did you like your gift?” Jungkook inches closer to you.

“I love it, Jungkook.” You lean into his shoulder, resting your head on him. “It makes me so happy.”

“What about me…do I make you happy?”

“So happy.” You admit. “I hope I can make you this happy too.”

“You do.” Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “Like, you have no idea.” He reaches for your hand and tangles his fingers with yours.

“Do you two want to head to bed? We got the cleaning covered.” Your mom offers. You yawn in response, showing her that you could use some sleep.

“Yeah, okay.” You accept gratefully, you stand up taking Jungkook with you. You two say your goodnight’s and head towards the stairs up to your bedroom.

“Goodnight you two.” Your grandma sings, sending a wink to Jungkook and he goes red again.

“Why does she keep winking at you?” You wonder out loud.

“No idea…” Jungkook is quick to respond. “Weird…”

When you and Jungkook get to your room, you both rush to get changed and wash up in the bathroom. He finishes before you, settling into the bed. You come in next, wearing your sleep shorts and a tank top. You turn the lights off and make your way to your bed, you slip inside and groan in satisfaction…ah, sleep time.

“Hey y/n…”

“Hm?” you sleepily roll over to your side to face Jungkook, “What’s up?”

“I just want to say…” he pauses and bites his lip. “Thanks. I just want to say thanks.”

“For what babe?”

“For bringing me for Christmas…this is the first time I have felt so at home in years.” He admits, “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“I’m glad you’re happy Jungkook.”

“More than happy.” He corrects. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

“Then tell me.”

“Can I show you instead?” Jungkook leans closer to you, tilting his head at the right angle. “Can I kiss you?”

You can’t help but swallow hard, Jungkook wants to kiss you? To show you what you mean to him? That’s romantic right? You aren’t totally reading this wrong?

“Why?” you ask, gulping down your spit.

“Because.” He breathes out softly, “Please.”

You can smell the toothpaste on his breath, you can smell his laundry detergent on his clothes, you can smell the shampoo in his hair. You inhale him and hold your breath.

“If I say no?” you blink up at him and he smiles softly.

“Then I will respect that.” He answers honestly.

With your eyes still adjusting to the darkness it is hard to see his eyes but you just know they are soft and inviting.

“Jungkook…” You scoot closer to him, moving your head to be at level with his face. “Baby…” you whimper out as you lean in closer to his face.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, his breath hitting your lips. “Because—”

Your lips find his in a slow, tender kiss. You peck his lips over and over and you can feel his lips shaping into a smile. You pull away after a few seconds, feeling breathless after the short kiss.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You scoot down until your head hits his chest and you snuggle into it.

“Goodnight baby.” Jungkook smiles, laying on his back as he stares up at the dark ceiling. How will he find sleep tonight? His heart is racing in his chest. Are you finally starting to understand his feelings? He knows he hasn’t talked about them yet…but he will. Yes, he definitely will.

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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cutielando · 3 years ago

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lost and found | g.w.

synopsis: in which you comfort each other

my masterlist

warnings!!: mentions of death, war, grief, depression

♡♡♡♡♡

It's funny how quickly your life can take a turn for the worst. How quickly the happiest moment of your life can turn into your worst.

That's how you and George felt the moment you won the war.

You had been so happy when Voldemort had been killed, so incredibly happy and relieved. You looked at each other and jumped into each other's arms, screaming in happiness that the war had finished, You-Know-Who had been stopped, there was no more evil lurking in the shadows and danger waiting at every corner.

The couple had run inside to celebrate with their families, only to find them sobbing over the body of a ginger-haired boy. Their Fred.

George's half, his twin, his partner in crime, his best friend in the whole entire world. He lost part of his soul that day, a void created in his heart that could never be filled by anything or anyone, no matted how much time would pass.

You also lost part of yourself that day. Fred had been the one who had set you and George up, he was the one you owed your whole relationship to. He made you laugh when nobody else could, he was the shoulder you always cried on, he was your rock.

Nobody spoke for weeks ahead of his death. You and George spent two weeks at the Burrow with his family before deciding you should get back to the apartment. It was one of the hardest things you had to do, but you had each other, you had the support you needed.

Fred's room was the one place neither of you dared to enter for the first few months back. It was like an unspoken vow between the two of you.

It took a lot of time for the two of you to go back to the way things used to be before the war. The grim expressions you wore every day slowly turned into smiles again, the monotone voices turned into brightness, the pain turned into happiness.

The only thing left for you to do was gather up the courage and enter Fred's room without breaking down. Which proved to be the most difficult part of the grieving process.

"Do you think we'll ever be ready?" George asked you one night while the two of you were laying in bed, facing the ceiling.

"I don't know. I suppose we will, but I don't see it happening for a while. Do you?" you turned to look at him and saw he was already looking at you, the moon illuminating his face.

"I don't either. It's painful as it is just living in the same flat, opening that door and seeing everything he left behind seems too much. At least right now" he explained, turning on his side and resting a hand over your waist.

"I feel the same way. I believe one day we'll be able to do it, together. We just need to give it time for the moment to come naturally" you put a hand on his cheek and leaned to peck his lips.

"Yeah"

♡♡♡♡♡ A year and a half had passed since the war. You and George finally found yourselves again, each day better than the last. You opened the shop back up and continued working on the products with George, you went out every couple of days on dates, spent time with his family, everything was going great.

You still hadn't been able to open Fred's room, but you felt like the time was drawing nearer, and you could tell George was feeling it too.

One day, it finally happened.

You had been cleaning your kitchen while George was closing up the shop, the cutlery flowing through the air to its designated spots in the drawers.

"I'm ready" you heard George say behind you, making you jump in surprise as you hadn't heard him come in.

"Ready for what, honey?" you asked, putting everything away and wiping your hands.

"His room. I'm ready to go in"

You gave him a sad smile and nodded, closing the distance between you and taking his hand.

"Okay, honey. Let's do this"

You slowly put your hand on the door handle and twisted it, the door slowly opening to reveal Fred's bedroom.

Everything was untouched just like the day Fred last stepped foot in it. The floor was littered with joke products, his desk was full of product lists and plans for the shop, the shelves were full of pictures of his family and friends, the four poster bed was unmade just as he had left it, the walls covered in Quidditch posters of his favorite teams.

It felt weird being there without him. Like something was missing. Tears welled up in your eyes, and when you looked at George you saw that he was also holding back tears.

"It feels weird being in here without him" you spoke, breaking the deafening silence.

"Yeah" George said in a small voice, not trusting his own voice to speak louder.

You crossed the room and stopped in front of a picture of you, Fred and George on the day before you left Hogwarts. They both had their hands around your shoulders and you were laughing at something Fred said.

George followed you and stood beside you, squeezing your hand every now and then.

"I remember this day like it was yesterday" you said, running a hand over the picture.

"Me too. We talked about leaving Hogwarts for so long, that was the night we decided we were going to do it and bring you with us. Start the joke shop and make people laugh, bring happiness into the world" George said, smiling while tears were flowing down his cheeks.

"I thought you were mental when you told me. Couldn't believe you would throw away your education, but then Fred made me see where your potential was lying. You weren't cut out for a desk job, he always said those are for prudes" a tear made its way down your cheek but you quickly wiped it away, trying to remain strong for George.

It was silent for a moment, neither of you speaking.

"I miss him. More than anyone can ever understand. I can't believe I made it so far without him by my side" George said, shaking his head whole looking at the smiling Fred.

"Neither do I. You two were the best thing to ever happen to me, and you both have a special place in my heart. There's just emptiness where he used to be, a void. I don't think we would've made it if we weren't together" you said.

"I definitely wouldn't have. You're the only thing that helped me pull through. After my family, you were the only one who understood the pain I was going through. You didn't pressure me into moving on, you gave me time and I healed on my own"

"You did the same for me. You were my support system, and you always will be" you turned to look at him and let go of his hand, taking his face into your hands instead.

"Promise me you'll never leave me" he whispered, staring deeply into your eyes.

"I promise I am never going to leave your side. I love you, and I intend to spend the rest of my days with you"

"I love you more than anything, and I promise to love you and respect you forever"

He leaned in and captured your lips in his. Even though it had been a long road of recovery, you managed to make it out alive and well. Together.

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#harry potter #imagines #literature #movies #oneshots #hogwarts #fanfiction #gryffindor #potterhead #headcanons #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #grief #death mention

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yelena-bellova · 4 years ago

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Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter One

Chapter One: The Other Wilson Sister - chapter two

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n grew up with Sam and Sarah Wilson in the bayou of Delacroix. During the Blip she stayed with Sarah to help run the family business. With Sam back and trying to save the day, Y/n’s perfect opportunity to confess her long-kept secret to her best friend presents itself.

Warnings: tfatws ep.1 spoilers, language, suicide mention, undertones of racism, lots of Wilson sibling arguments, tragic backstory

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: As I wrote this first chapter out I realized it’s most definitely also a Sam Wilson x platonic fic. Bucky doesn’t come in till next chapter but rest assured, it’s gonna be a wild ride...Also I didn’t know till now how difficult it is to plan out a series in its entirety when the show isn’t completed lol. Hope you enjoy! (I may or may not change the title depending on how I feel about it later today lol)

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Delacroix, LA 2024

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One of the only things I was certain of in life was that blood didn’t make a family.

I had no official tie to Wilson family, I wasn’t a daughter or some distant cousin sent to live with them. We shared no DNA and they had no reason to love me as much as they did. But throughout my life I had known no kinder people than them and I doubted that would change. As I stood on the family boat helping to unload the catch of the day, I thought of how our corner of the Louisiana bayou felt more like home than any place I’d ever been.

“Hey,” Sarah said from the dock, “Head out of the clouds and down here helping me.” “Sorry,” I shook myself out of my thoughts and hopped off the boat, “Not a bad catch if you ask me.”

Sarah sighed as she bent over a large bucket of fish, “It could’ve been better.” I came to stand in front of her and held my hands out for a bucket, “Take the wins where you can get ‘em, Sar. Lord knows we don’t get enough of them.” Sarah Wilson was the only superhero I’d ever aspire to be like. She was a widow who had raised two kids and run a business all by herself with no family for support. The past five years had been challenging with so many people gone and while I had moved in with her to help however I could, I could take no credit. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever known.

“You had that look on your face again,” she said as we worked.

“What look?”

“That look that lets me know you were thinking real hard about something,” Sarah imitated the expression in question by thinning her eyes slightly and furrowing her brows, “Like this.” I laughed heartily at her impression, “So what was it?” I gazed out at the bayou waters before turning to the boat and finally Sarah, “Family.”

She nudged me with her hip, something we’d done when we were young and an affectionate gesture we’d carried into adulthood. A half hour went by with us and the boys unloading and sorting the fish we’d caught. I was too wrapped up in the task to notice the sound of a vehicle approaching until AJ and Cass announced the arrival.

“Blue for the snapper, orange for the whitefish.”

“Uncle Sam!”

My head shot up upon hearing his name, as did Sarah’s. I used my hand as a visor against to sun to spot the familiar rusted truck parked a few hundred feet away, with my best friend standing outside it hugging his nephews.

“That’s right, Uncle Sam,” Sarah called, “You’re back early.”

I grinned as I shucked my gloves off and made a beeline for him, slamming my body into his for a tight embrace. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him, having spent the only weekend he was off away, and I’d naturally been worried sick about him. My best friend and un-biological brother may have been an Avenger for years, but after losing him in the Blip I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about him.

“Every time I come home, you act like I’ve been gone for five years,” he joked over my shoulder, resulting in me pulling away and slapping his bicep.

“Not even a little funny,” I pointed a finger in his smug face, he slung an arm around my neck as we walked over to Sarah.

“What’s goin’ on? You got Mom’s sneaky look on your face.” “How you gonna try to read me when you know I’m the one that reads you?” Sam smiled, passing by and greeting a long time customer of ours. “That look is permanently glued to his face, Sar,” I chuckled, “I learned that in grade school.” Sam shook his head at me and laughed before making his way up the dock to the Wilson family boat. “You gotta marvel at it, baby’s being held together by duct tape and prayers.” I leaned into Sarah, “Are you telling him or am I?” She took the initiative, “It just needs to float long enough for me to sell it.” “I thought we were gonna discuss if we were selling it,” Sam replied as he helped unload another bucket of fish. “We did, and then you were off fighting Doctor Space Cape or whatever while we,” Sarah gestured between us, “Were holdin’ it together for five long years. Now that the world is going back to normal, this thing’s gotta go.”

Sam looked to me with a look of displeasure, “Were you in on this?” “Don’t drag me into this,” I waved my hands as if wiping my involvement away, “This is a Wilson sibling discussion.” “Uh-uh,” Sam called me out, wagging his finger, “Don’t do that. Dad said every chance he got that you were one of his own, you’ve got a say in this too. What is it?” I scrunched my face up, dreading the argument that was knocking on our door, “It’s dead weight, Sam. The money we could get for it would be enough to keep us comfortable for a little longer without having to worry.” “We grew up on this thing. It’s not just Mom and Dad’s name on it. This thing is a part of our family.”

I sighed as Sarah stepped forward, “You know the situation we’re in. This is why I prefer not to dwell on it in front of everybody.” “Well what if we don’t need to sell it?” Sam said. “Can we talk about this in private?” I suggested, tiring of having to convince Sam that we were in the right when he hadn’t been around to witness our struggles. A long time friend of ours called out to Sam and he willingly took the distraction, opting out of having the inevitable difficult conversation. Sarah and I trudged back, totes of fish in hand and tried to get through the rest of the work day without worrying if we were approaching our last.

————

During golden hour, when the clock had struck five and we’d started packing it up for the day was the only time to get Sam to actually listen. I knew how much the boat meant to him, it meant something to us all, but he wasn’t living in the reality that Sarah and I were.

“Sam, the boat’s gotta go,” Sarah finally said, breaking the silence we were working in on the vessel. “Wait-“ “No, let me finish,” she said, “Y/n and I are doin’ everything I can to keep this business afloat and every day we’re making $5 and spending $10.” Sam looked between the two of us, “So why won’t you let me help?”

“Sam, don’t…” I winced, knowing Sarah’s reaction would be strong.

“No, don’t start with that. We made a deal before Daddy died,” Sarah carried a few buckets to the center of the deck, “You’re out there, I do things my way here. Y/n agreed to it too when she went off to school.” “Right, but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans,” Sam finished tying off one of the ropes, turning around and giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to punch his chest, “Forgot how hard you hit.” I sighed as I passed him by to follow Sarah, “Low blow, you deserved it.”

“Sarah, Y/n, c’mon,” he chased after us, “Look, and don’t hit me again…What if you had money to fix it up? Make it nice so you can charter it when you’re not out working the waters?” “Sam, do you think this was an easy decision for us?” I faced him, leaning against the doorway next to him, “I tried every tactic I learned in business school and got nowhere. Anything I thought up, we needed more money to do. This is our only option.” As he always did with the things he cared about, he fought. “We can take a loan and consolidate everything, it’ll take down your monthly,” he looked confused as he watched Sarah laugh, “What?” “You think I didn’t try the banks? They’re in with all that big business now.” I followed them like the little sister I’d always been as they moved their fight towards the cockpit of the boat. Sam blocked another doorway, “Yeah, but now you have me.”

“Don’t, Sam,” Sarah shook her head, “I just got good with this.”

“All right…”

“Maybe it is time for us to move on,” Sarah sighed. “Either way, just let me help,” Sam offered, “I’ll set the appointment. Look, I won’t let you guys down. We can turn this shit around. Trust me.” I peered over at Sarah, wishing I could see the calculations going on in her brain. It seemed pointless, but any shot at changing our luck was an avenue worth pursuing.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I shrugged.

Sarah finally relented, “To the rescue, huh?”

“Always,” Sam smiled, “Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.” ————

Sarah was taking AJ and Cass back home while Sam and I took his truck to go pick up food.

“So how was Tunisia?” I asked, sticking my hand out the window and letting it rise and fall with the wind.

“Hot, but the mission went well,” he answered, looking out of the corner of his eyes at me, “And that’s all you need to know.”

I snickered, “C’mon, it’s our thing. I ask you detailed questions about your confidential missions, you tell me you can’t reveal anything, I keep asking…You’ve gotta honor tradition.” “I flew, I fought, I rescued. Boom, mission explained.” “Ugh, you’re impossible, Wilson,” I waved him off, “How was the museum dedication?” The atmosphere changed as the subject of conversation changed from easy to complicated. “It was nice to see Steve’s accomplishments celebrated. Got to see Rhodes which was nice…” “You’re avoiding a red white and blue topic,” I said, trying to coax his true feelings out of their shells, “Seriously, are you really okay with this? Giving up the shield?” Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think it was ever meant to end up in my hands. I did the right thing, it belongs with Steve and the museum is the closest to Steve I can get.” I respected my friend’s choice but I knew there was so much more to his decision and I wished he would just say it. He had an enormous amount of respect for Steve Rogers and what the shield represented, but Steve Rogers never had to face the issues that Sam Wilson did. Steve Rogers could follow a government and be respected in return with no problems whatsoever. Sam Wilson couldn’t, not always. There was an elephant in the room and if neither of us wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t push it.

“You’d have looked good in that uniform though,” I smiled as we turned into the take out place’s parking lot.

“Damn right,” Sam waggled his eyebrows and unbuckled his seatbelt. Laughter rang out in the truck sending me on waves of nostalgia. The memories that me and him had in this truck still were infamous between us. As proud as I was of the Falcon’s heroics, I was prouder to call Sam Wilson my best friend.

————

Just as he’d promised, Sam made the appointment with the banker. He and Sarah were already on their way as I made the hour long drive in the opposite direction to New Orleans. I’d told them I’d be back in the evening to discuss how it went, but I had my own appointment to keep.

Sam and I had met back when we were just a couple of first graders. I’d always struggled with making friends as a kid, but Sam never had an issue when it came to connecting with others. It was one of his strongest qualities. And so he used his gift on his desk neighbor, the loneliest kid in class, and pulled her out of herself. We were inseparable until college and adulthood forced us apart, but we’d never lost our bond. Even when he was a pararescue, he wrote to me as often as his work allowed him.

All the Wilsons had taken a liking to me after Sam brought me home one day after school to watch cartoons. Darlene had told me I was welcome to come over any time I wanted, an offer Sam and I accepted till I became a permanent fixture in their house. Paul and his wife had frequently tried to get the rest of my family over for a crawfish boil or a barbecue. They’d send me every few weeks with a verbal invitation to my parents and the next day I’d always come back with a polite decline and excuse as to why we couldn’t make it. Mom was busy with spring cleaning, Melanie had a recital, Dad was feeling under the weather…

The only one that had ever been true was about my dad not feeling well. He was never well. But as a child, how do you explain that your father is a ghost around his own home who drinks himself to sleep and wakes up each night screaming from nightmares? There was no polite way to phrase circumstances that dark. Sometimes I felt like my dad had never returned from the military and though there hadn’t been a war at the time of his service, he still came back with his share of trauma. Mom did everything she could to try and help him. She found support groups for veterans, she took him to the best psychiatrists, she created a safe space for him within our home to retreat to. There was no amount of help that could kill my father’s demons and that was proven the night he’d said we were out of milk and he was going to the store. A few hours later, with my sister and I fast asleep upstairs, my worried mother answered the door and was informed by the police that my father had crashed his car and was dead. After speaking to Mom about what his mood had been like before he’d left and if he suffered from any mental illnesses, it was ruled as an undoubtable suicide.

My mother didn’t get much time to mourn after the funeral, she had two children to provide for. She took three jobs just to earn enough to move us from our house in New Orleans to a dingy apartment in Delacroix by the bayou. When the Wilsons heard that Mom needed to scrape enough money in the budget to hire a baby-sitter for me and Melanie, they put a stop to her efforts immediately. The insisted that Mel and I would be happier spending the time my mom was working with them and their kids rather than a stranger. That was how the Wilsons and the Y/l/ns had ended up so tightly knit. While Sarah and Melanie had bonded as the older sisters and were often off doing their own thing, Sam and I caused havoc of our own in classic younger sibling fashion. By the time we were in high school, both parents called the other’s children their own.

When Paul and Darlene passed away, it was incredibly hard on all of us and it was equal when Mom had a fall and the doctors suggested she move into a facility. Sam, Sarah and I had worked hard to get her into one of the best nursing homes in the city and she hadn’t stopped raving about how much she loved it. Pulling into the parking lot was like muscle memory now, I never missed a weekend visit with her. This one was special because Melanie, her husband and brood of children had come too. I grabbed my visitor’s sticker at the front desk and made my way down the familiar hallways. The sound of laughter and cooing echoed out of my mom’s room, bringing a smile to my face.

I knocked on the door and heads turned, my nieces and nephews being the quickest. “Aunt Y/n!” I embraced Sophia and Max tightly, “The twin tornados! I missed you guys,” separating from them was difficult as they clung to me but I made it to Stephan, giving him a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Mel, “You look hot, mama.” “I certainly don’t feel it,” she remarked as she cradled their newest addition, baby Alexandra, close to her chest, “I spend more hours of the day covered in glitter glue and spit up than you could imagine.” “You wear it all well,” I patted her shoulder before coming to my mother’s bedside and hugging her, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she kissed both of my cheeks and looked to the door, “Sarah and Sam couldn’t come?” “No, but they send their love. They had an appointment at the bank,” I set down my purse and pulled up a chair, “We’re trying to get approved for a small business loan.”

Glen took Alexandra from Mel so she could tend to the twins, “I wish we could help out, Y/n. I’ve looked at the budget over and-“ It warmed my heart that my brother-in-law cared so much about a problem that wasn’t his to bear. “Glen,” I held up a hand, “You guys are stretched thin enough. This isn’t me asking for charity, it’s our problem and Sam’s confidant we’ll find a fix.” “How does he have enough time to be a member of the Air Force, an Avenger and save the family business?” Mel asked.

“Well, the Avengers are kind of off doing their own thing right now from what I understand and he’s home for a little while from the Air Force,” I explained, “So his main job at the moment is to get us our funding and annoy the snot out of me while doing it.” After earning some giggles from Sophia and Max at the expression, Glen announced that they were going to go and grab lunch for everybody. My mom took my hand once it was just the two of us and I settled into my seat, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hanging in there,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “Tired, stressed, I smell like fish most of the time…We need this loan or else we’re going to have to sell the boat. You should’ve seen Sam’s face when Sarah told him…”

“I’m sorry, I know how much that boat means to you kids. I could’ve offered you the moon and stars and it still wouldn’t have been enough to get you off it.” I smiled at the memories of summer nights spent laying on the deck stargazing, dance parties on the stern and early mornings spent with Mr. Wilson teaching us how to fish. A childhood with so much sadness had also contained so many joys. To part with a tangible one killed me more than I’d let on to Sam.

Sensing that the topic was making me emotional, my mother was kind enough to change it. “How are things otherwise? Have you been getting out there?” I dropped my head back dramatically and groaned, “Mom…” “I’m just saying,” she dropped my hand and held up hers in surrender, “You should get out there, meet someone. There’s no shame in trying those online dating services. What’s the one…the…Tinder?” “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I buried my face in my hands and moved my fingers so she could only see my eyes, “Please stop talking.” “You know who I ran into the other day? Jack’s mom, from high school. She lives just down the next hallway, she says that he’s still single. You could get in touch with him.” “Y’know, for a woman who advocated for her daughters to lead such independent lives, you’re sure quick to try and marry us off,” I chuckled, “The second Mel started dating Glen you were practically booking the church.” “And I’m very proud of both my girls for being such strong young women,” she smiled proudly, “But finding love doesn’t mean losing your independence so long as you’re with the right man. I love that you’ve been helping out Sarah these last few years but honey…I see how lonely you are. In those big y/e/c eyes you think I still can’t read after all these years.” The y/e/c eyes in question started to fill with sadness at hearing my pain verbalized. It was true, I was lonely. More so than I would ever let on to anybody. I was a shy enough kid who only withdrew further after Dad passed away, that kind of introversion wasn’t one that you outgrew. But I’d given up the idea of finding someone to spend my life with a long time ago for a bevy of reasons.

“Sometimes it’s better to be alone, Mama,” I nodded as if to force myself to agree with my statement, “No chances of getting hurt…or hurting somebody.” “You couldn’t hurt somebody even if you tried,” my mom argued sweetly, “You couldn’t even kill spiders when you were a kid.” “And now there’s a Spiderman out there so I’m glad I didn’t,” I shot back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, honey,” she took my hand once again, “Don’t let your heart’s wounds keep you from finding someone who could help soothe them.”

I was convinced my mother was both a poet and a therapist at some point in her life, she gave advice in the most beautifully phrased way. And while I’d loved to have taken her words to heart, tell Mel to fix me up with one of Glen’s friends and put an end to my loneliness, I feared that I was just too broken to give love to someone.

————

I arrived back home late, shedding my boots and bag at the doors. I’d expected to hear a triumphant chorus of Sam shouting ‘WHO DA MAN?’ as he typically would when heroically proving me and Sarah wrong, but there was only silence. When I walked into the kitchen and saw their glum faces, it wasn’t hard to guess the outcome of the meeting. “You’re kidding me…” “Said that things had tightened up,” Sam said, leaning against one side of the island and taking a swig of his beer, “Had the balls to ask me for a picture afterwards.” I groaned and grabbed the beer bottle Sarah had extended to me, “Okay, we’re out of options. It’s time to move forward-“ “Don’t say it…” Sam tiredly warned.

“Someone has to, Sam. We can’t keep searching for solutions when the right one is sitting out on our dock,” I gestured to the window that looked out on the road we took each day to work.

Sarah set her beer down and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m not having this argument again tonight, I’m going to bed. If you’re gonna kill each other, do it quietly.” She left as me and Sam silently stared each other down, waiting for the other to speak. I was too frustrated to play the game, “What’s this really about?” “It’s about the damn boat and that you and Sarah are throwing in the towel too-“ “What,” I elongated the single syllable word, “Is this really about?” Sam set his drink down and rubbed his hands over his head before looking back up at me helplessly, “You guys were on your own for five years and you’ve done an amazing job. But now nothing’s working and I just…I just want to help because I couldn’t for so long.” It all clicked as to why Sam was being so insistent on trying to eliminate the whole matter. He was used to saving the day and finally meeting one that he couldn’t save was a wall he thought he could still find a way to run through. He’d been like that ever since we were kids, always trying to help the people he loved even when it was impossible. He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

“I love you,” I set down my bottle and crossed the island to come next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, “But this may be one problem that the Falcon can’t swoop in and fix. The Avengers work hard, but a business graduate helping to run a struggling seafood business works harder,” I succeeded in getting him to crack a smile, “Believe me, I’ve run all the numbers and consulted with anyone who would listen. The boat’s gotta go.”

“Yeah, well, humor me and give me a little while longer.”

“Fine, a couple more days,” I grabbed my beer once again and clinked it against his, “But it’s not my fault if Sarah smacks you again.” Sam laughed, slung an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. “You coming up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I answered, watching as he finished his drink before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Once I’d heard his bedroom door open and close, I exited out to the back porch. I took in the late night sounds of the bayou, the crickets chirping and the wind rustling trees had always soothed me. I wished they could touch what I was feeling right now, but the noise didn’t do a thing to drown out my worry. For the business I feared we may lose, for Sam as he ran himself ragged trying to help and for myself and what him and Sarah would think of me once I confessed the secret I’d kept from them for so long.

I held out my hand and watched as the blue energy flowed from my fingertips. Would Sam ever forgive me for not telling him I had powers? They had manifested when I was young, my parents said. I couldn’t remember a day where my body hadn’t produced a magical energy that when harnessed incorrectly could be destructive. It had been a sad day for my mother’s garden when I’d discovered that bit…According to her, she’d wanted to take me to a school for people like me run by a man named Charles Xavier but my father had said no immediately. He’d been so insistent on keeping my powers a secret that my mother said she’d only seen that type of fear in his eyes when he had a war flashback. So I was instructed to never show my powers to anyone under any circumstances and I’d done just that. I’d thought about revealing them in 2012 after the Battle of New York, but my dad’s fear rang in my ears. Three years later when Sam became an Avenger was when I began to feel guilty that I was keeping a secret from him. I’d wanted to join him and find somewhere where I didn’t feel so out of place, but I’d decided against it again. Now with their team so broken and Sam off with the Air Force, I’d finally gathered the courage to confide in him and Sarah. I should have done it six months ago, but I’d chickened out too many times. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow was the day. But would they still see me the same way once I showed them? ————

The next morning, after dressing and running over what I wanted to say three times, I hesitantly headed downstairs to face the music. With there being nobody in the kitchen, I followed the sounds of the television to find Sarah and Sam staring at the screen intently. I stood to the side of the room and watched a suited man give a speech out front of a government building. “We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

My jaw slackened as a man marched out in front of the gathered press, dressed in a variation of Steve Rogers’ patriotic uniform and carrying the iconic shield. The shield that had only weeks ago sat upstairs in Sam’s bedroom in a case. I dragged my gaze away from the screen to look at my best friend, hunched over in his seat with his eyes shut in sorrow. Sarah looked just as distraught, her eyes trained on her brother as well. We waited in silence until the breaking news broadcast switch back to regularly scheduled programming before Sarah switched the box off.

“I thought you said it was going to stay in the museum,” I finally spoke, my voice choked with emotion.

“It was supposed to,” Sam ground out, his grip on his own hands tightening. Without any warning, he rose from his seat and left the room. My instinct was to follow him and try to comfort him, but there was nothing I could say to ease the deep pain he was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I could form words that weren’t doused in raw shock. The two things I was sure of were that a) the government had fucked up royally and b) now was definitely not the time to tell Sam about my powers.

————

It was a few days later and Sam still hadn’t spoken much to Sarah and I about the situation. It was unnatural for Sam to suffer in silence especially around us, but we both gave him the space he needed.

I was taking laundry to AJ and Cass’ room and had to pass by Sam’s, surprised to see him packing a bag. “Thought you were sticking around.” “Something big came up,” he replied as he set a stack of t-shirts in his duffle bag, “I need to go check it out.” I leaned against his doorway, “Air Force big or Avengers big?” “The second one.” “And you’re going by yourself?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me finally, “Don’t have anybody to else to call. Besides, I can handle myself.” I hummed in response before setting down the stack of laundry, an idea forming in my head that could solve both of our problems. I folded my hands together and dug my feet into the carpet, “What if you didn’t have to go by yourself?” He looked confused, “What are you talking about?” My folded hands began to make circles in the air as I struggled for the right words, “What if I came with you?” “What, like take your family to work day something?” Sam scoffed, “That’d be fun.” “I’m serious.” “Are you crazy? Of course you can’t come.” “Hear me out,” I looked to his bag and the pair of jeans he had next to fold, “Actually watch.” He folded his arms and waited for my demonstration. I took a deep breath and extended my hand, forcing my energy outwards to levitate the jeans. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed as he watched me maneuver the clothing inside his duffle, “W-w-what…What was that?” I shrugged and pulled my hand back to my side, “The reason why you should take me.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid,” I moved out of the doorway and closed the door, the last thing I needed was AJ and Cass knowing their aunt could move things with her mind, “My parents told me never to tell anybody. I’ve thought about telling you for years since you’re used to this kind of thing but I was scared…Then you were gone and when you came back, life was moving non-stop and I lost my courage. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam stood with his jaw hung for a few seconds before shaking his head back into reality, “Why are you apologizing? You never had to tell me, but I’m glad you did,” he pointed a finger towards me, “But you’re still not going.” “What are you talking about? I’d be an asset to whatever it is you’re fighting! And I love you but c’mon bird boy, you may be able to fly but I can do it without any tech.” “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” Sam gestured between the two of us, “You think insulting me is the way to get me to let you come?” “Come on,” I moved to sit on his bed, “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll prove that I can help.” “Alright, alright,” Sam took a stance in front of me, “You wanted to hear the tea on my missions, I’ll spill it. There’s an online group called the Flag Smashers, their MO is to get the world back to the way it was during the last five years. My military contact, Torres, went undercover in Switzerland when they robbed a bank. Knocked him unconscious when he tried to fight back.” I balanced my elbows on my knees and tapped a finger against my lip, “So kind of a Robin Hood deal, right? Stealing things from the rich and giving it to the poor. In this case, the poor being those who never disappeared.” “Exactly, except the guy that knocked Torres out was strong. Too strong. I’m thinking they could be a part of-“ “The big three.” Sam’s neck snapped back, “How do you know about the big three?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “The little you do tell me about your avenging always ties back to either androids, aliens or wizards. Though I think you’re being a little dramatic with the term ‘wizard.’”

“Are you seriously gonna correct the guy who’s actually there doing the fighting?” “Are you seriously gonna deny yourself valuable help against either an alien or an android?”

Sam sighed, I was successfully backing him into a corner. “Can you even fight?”

Extending one hand, I levitated Sam and gently slammed his back into the ceiling before reversing course and lowering him onto the carpet. He moaned as he rolled over to face me, “Could’ve given me a concussion.” “Maybe that would knock some sense into your head,” I stood and gave him my hand to pull him up, “Sam, I know that I don’t have any experience but I am more than capable of defending myself. I want to actually do something with these powers instead of sitting on my ass. I’d rather do it with you than on my own. Please?” I watched the cogs in his mind turn through his eyes, I knew he was only fighting this hard because he wanted to keep me safe. But he was in way over his head if he thought it wasn’t worth taking me with. He accepted my hand and stood to his full height, “Pack a bag, we’re leaving for the air base in an hour.” I smiled and threw my arms around him, “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” “I’d better not,” he warned, his arms stayed straightened in displeasure of my enthusiasm, “If you take some stupid risk and put yourself in jeopardy, I’m putting your ass on a plane home.” Quick footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway until the door opened to reveal Sarah, “What was all that noise? It sounded like you were throwing each other into walls.” “Busy,” I quickly dismissed her, using my energy to shut the door in Sarah’s face from a distance.

“Um,” her muffled voice rang through, “What the hell was that?!”

--------

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #marvel imagine

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startanewdream · 3 years ago

Text

Written for @efkgirldetective's Summer of Jily Prompt #7 (Ice cream + "I don't want anybody else touching you like I do).

Tumblr exclusive at the moment because I don't have a title and the 'happy ending' part of the 'angst with a happy ending' was lost somewhere.

Rated M.

I will love to hear your thoughts about this!

_______________

She is at the end of her round, going towards his cabin—her friends’ cabin, though Lily knows exactly who she is hoping to meet there—when she hears it.

‘—and Potter, what a waste. He won’t ever join him.’

‘We should just wipe him away. Blood traitor, muggle lover—’

‘You mean mudblood lover, Severus?’ Avery’s voice is tinted with malice and there are snickers around. ‘Potter and Evans seem pretty close nowadays. Do you think she gives him everything she denied you?’

‘I would never filth myself,’ comes Snape’s cold reply. ‘If he is tainting his blood, all the worse for him.’

Taint his blood. Is this what Lily’s presence does to James? Is she putting him in a danger he didn’t need to be just by being closer to him?

It’s Snape’s words and she shouldn’t listen to him—the days where she would hear him, would admire him, are long gone—but when she finally reaches the cabin (when James grins at the sight of her, bright and warm, and her heart skips a beat and Lily has to smile back), she sits away from James.

‘Anything wrong?’ he asks, familiar enough to read the tension on her face.

‘No, all normal,’ Lily says, and it’s the first lie.

______

II.

It’s summer and everyone is out of age now and apparating makes things so easy that Lily finds herself less and less at home during that break.

She tells herself it’s because she is avoiding the presence of her sister’s annoying fiance; she blames the fact that Dorcas has a beach house and it’s so much better spending days swimming and tanning; she even goes introspective to blame the pressure of the war looming over them in a way that means she needs to enjoy the last summer break before real life gets them.

But she knows the reason is James.

She finds herself gravitating towards him, unable to resist that attraction even as she knows how dangerous it is for him. Once or twice Lily thinks of telling him about it, of warning how he is stupidly raising his stakes by being near her, but she gives up only for the fact that this (might drive him away and she doesn't want it, not really) would probably just make him want to be even closer to her.

And they are already alarmingly close.

Once Lily would have been repulsed by that idea, but one year later everything has changed—James has changed—and everything about him appeals to her. The way he cares for everyone around him. The way he smiles patiently whenever he is explaining something. The way he grins as if to invite the world to share a great funny joke with him. How he runs his hand through his hair when he’s nervous. How he is so expansive that he seems to occupy any room he is in. How he loves flying, even more than Quidditch, and how relaxed he seems when he is on a broom. How he talks to her, taking it seriously when she needs to and making a joke when things get too serious. How he opens up about his own life and doubts and listens to her.

That would make them friends, really good friends, but then Lily’s heart would not stop racing when he’d touched her hand, or when their knees would bump while sitting closely in the library and then she was forced to note all the physical aspects—the muscles of his arms, the shape of full lips, the line of his jaw, the hazel kaleidoscope of his eyes and how fit he was—and give up any belief her feelings were limited to a friendship.

She fancies him, okay.

Except it’s not okay, because it’s dangerous and by now Lily is positive that James knows it too. Everyone knows it.

They end up together, just the two of them, a lot during that summer. It takes Lily a few days to realize it’s not a coincidence that her interests never align with those of her friends—if she wants to swim, somehow it’s only her and James in the sea; at night, even though it’s still so warm, they are the only ones who venture into the pool for a midnight swim, while the others stay stubbornly indoors.

When Lily suggests going to town to grab an ice cream, somehow James is the only one who is in the mood for it, despite the heat.

It’s not on purpose from his part—at least that’s how Lily sees it—but he isn’t refusing her company either and neither is she refusing his, so James’ boldness flourishes that summer. It’s not cocky as it once would be, it’s just a quiet acceptance that something is finally happening between them as if he never stopped believing it would be possible. Lily feels it when he throws his arm around her shoulders when they are sitting close, almost absently, almost not noticing when Lily lays her head over his shoulder; it’s there when he openly gawks the first time he sees her in a swimming suit, only to be nudged in the ribs by Sirius and then complimenting her ('good thing you wear robes at school, Evans, or there wouldn’t be much schoolwork done'). It’s definitely there when he intertwines their hands, pulling her to the sea with him.

And it’s there when they are sitting closer than they would need for a bench so wide, watching seagulls flying over the sea, each one holding an ice cream.

‘Chocolate chips with chocolate cover and chocolate sprinkles,’ James teases. ‘I think you have an addiction, Lily.’

‘Guilty,’ she replies, not ashamed at all, proving her ice cream and very aware of how James is staring at her. ‘It’s better than asking for vanilla ice cream.’

‘Hey!’ He would look deeply offended if not for the grin on his lips. ‘I’ll let you know vanilla is the best flavour.’

‘Never took you for a vanilla guy, James.’

‘What would take me for? The adventurous gorgeous type?’

Lily laughs, but she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t want to lie to him and deny it.

‘Attractive mysterious type, then?’ he insists. ‘Handsome scoundrel?’

‘I notice your beauty is enhanced a lot.’

‘My beauty? So you admit that I’m beautiful, Evans?’

‘Do I need to? You seem to already know it.’

‘I enjoy hearing you saying all the same,’ he says, and though James shrugs easily she can sense the shift in his eyes, the nervous glint there. ‘That means we would make a beautiful couple.’

‘We would,’ she whispers, still not wanting to lie.

She turns back her attention to the ice cream, already melting under the scorching sun. It makes a mess, and James laughs as she tries to lick the ice cream out of her hands, but then his laugh dies and she watches him swallow slowly, reacting. He always reacts to her.

She licks her lips now, and he also watches this movement, the grin on his face replaced by concentration—no, determination, a fierce look and Lily knows what James will do even before he raises his hand to slide his thumb at the corner of her mouth.

‘You missed here,’ he says, and though he must have wiped off the ice cream already, his caress remains.

His eyes are dark now, even under the sunlight, and he registers how Lily hasn’t stepped back, how she raises her head just the slightest to get closer to him. His gaze strays to her lips, Lily blinks, and then James looks back at her.

‘Lily,’ he says, and it’s a question.

‘James,’ she says, and it’s the only answer she can give him.

His lips find hers and in the bright darkness that surrounds Lily when she closes her eyes, she can see everything in colour. The white of his taste of vanilla. The green of his perfume that reminds her of early mourning in the woods. The brown of his skin as he pulls her closer, one hand holding the back of her neck and the other hand finding hers, locking their fingers together. The red of her blood pumping furiously through her veins, so loud and unstoppable.

And she sees him, messy dark hair, hazel bright eyes, her own sun.

But when they break apart, when she watches him keeping his eyes closed a second longer—savouring it, remembering it—, all that comes to her mind it’s the warning.

Taint his blood.

Her smile falters.

‘James,’ she whispers, all warmth of the day gone, hating everything but herself so much more when he opens his eyes and they are filled with hope. ‘This doesn’t mean anything.’

And this is the second lie she tells him.

___________

III.

Summer is over as far as Lily is concerned, but they still have two weeks in which she forces a smile up to her lips that doesn’t fool anyone.

Everyone knows something happened, though no one knows exactly what, and Lily feels too tired to pretend everything is normal. James barely acknowledges her when they are in the same room, and in the few occasions their eyes meet, there is nothing of that familiarity that he once thrived to share with her. He looks confused and hurt.

Lily could deal with the confusion but she is powerless against the hurt. She is the one who damaged him after all.

Their friends are mostly adamant in letting them deal with the situation, one notable exception being Sirius Black, but Lily didn’t expect anything less from him. He watches her rather resentfully in the first days, and Lily starts looking for excuses to avoid attending the events she had carefully arranged with them (with James, sitting by the edge of the lake, holding a scroll against his back as they wrote everything they would do, laughing and planning and hoping).

The summer days are hot, unbearably hot, and the breeze that comes through the window of her room isn’t enough. She could cast a Cooling Charm, but her wand is far away and the fact that she can cast spells outside school has lost its appeal now. She doesn't even celebrate when her school letter comes with a badge attached to it.

Most of the time Lily just stares at the ceiling of her room, finding patterns in the painting that aren’t really there, too strained and too tired to avoid being even more strained—her mind keeps replaying the moment James leaned closer, the brief moment his breath tingled her skin and the softness of his lips over hers, and Lily has no strength to avoid it. She is addicted to it, to the one thing she had a taste of and cannot have again.

Five days into hiding (she is hiding, Lily won’t deny it), her sister knocks on her door to tell her unceremoniously that one of her freak friends has come to visit her.

‘Hurry, I don’t want Vernon finding him when he arrives,’ Petunia tells her, and Lily ignores her completely.

Him, she said. Him, Lily thinks, and her mind conjures James sitting on the couch of her parents’ living room, a grin on his lips as he charms his way with her parents (he charmed her, Lily doesn’t see what challenge her parents would present), accepting a cup of tea and looking around trying to understand all the muggle contraptions in that muggle house—

Muggle lover. All the worse for him.

She rushes downstairs, her heart pounding on her head, her mouth dry with the excuses she will have to present (go away, just go away) but it’s not James after all.

Sirius looks even more out of place than the James she imagined inside her head, standing with his arms crossed in that pastel living room, and with an unhappy grimace on his lips. He turns at the sound of her, his grey eyes burning disapprovingly—and then, as he stares at her, his expression shifts.

‘You are a mess, Evans.’

Self-consciousness washes over her, and Lily runs her hand through her hair—or tries to, because it gets stuck in the knots of her messy braid. She knows she hasn’t changed clothes ever since she woke up, though it’s nearly midday, so she does the only thing she can: she presses her lips, crosses her arms and tries to look unfazed.

‘I wasn’t expecting a visit,’ she says. It’s summer break, she can do nothing all day.

‘I didn’t even mean your appearance. It was more your… aura.’

‘Aura,’ she repeats, a tiny part of her finding this amusing, but Lily can’t muster strength enough to break a smile. ‘Very mystical, Sirius.’

‘That’s me, master of occult arts. But in this case, I just needed to look at you. You—you look miserable.’

‘Thanks. If that’s all you wanted to say—’

‘Oh, no, I came here to give you a piece of my mind about how you broke my best friend’s heart, but you look somehow worse than him. What’s going on?’

Lily shrugs. ‘Nothing.’

‘So you just decided to play with his feelings and ditch him the moment he corresponded?’

His words are a poison that crawls through her skin, entering it slowly but certain; Lily feels it reaching her bloodstream, spreading through every part of her body, until the poison finds her heart. She thought she was oblivious to pain after the last days, but she was wrong.

‘I wasn’t playing with his feelings,’ she whispers, her voice hoarse, so close to breaking.

‘Then what? I thought—everyone thought—you fancied him too. Merlin, Evans, that boy was in love with you.’

The worst part is that Lily knows it. It was not a play to James, it never was. She saw it in the way his face lighted up at the sight of her, how eager he was to become friends once Lily first extended her peace flag. She saw how his eyes always looked first for her in any room he entered, how he’d find any reason to stay closer.

And she saw everything because she was paying attention.

Of course she was. One does not fall in love also if not paying attention.

‘I don’t know what to say, Sirius,’ Lily says truthfully. ‘I am sorry for all the confusion I’ve caused.’

‘Sorry is not enough.’

‘I know.’

Sirius watches her with something that borders on disappointment now. ‘You better find a way of fixing this, Evans.’

‘I—I don’t know how. I’m trying to keep my distance—’

‘And how is that helping you two?’

It’s not, Lily knows, and that’s the point. She can’t explain to James what is the problem and she is afraid that if she sees him again, if her determination falters her for one second—

‘We are going to have a party tomorrow night,’ Sirius says, his voice leaving no room for argument. ‘Dorcas’ house. It’s a goodbye party, we even invited the muggle neighbours. You’ll come, you’ll find James and you’ll talk. Fix this.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You better find a way, Evans, because that thing of keeping your distance? Well, Hogwarts letter came yesterday. Let me guess, you are Head Girl.’

Lily nods, not understanding where Sirius is heading with this.

‘Guess who’s Head Boy this year?’

____________

Lily hears the music as soon as she disapparates near Dorcas’ house. People, young people around her age, are walking towards the house and she joins the flow letting herself get lost in that stream of people, hoping it’s enough to not draw attention to her presence.

It’s useless. As soon as she crosses the doorway, Dorcas cries for her, her voice louder than the music, and then people look at her curiously.

‘Merlin, Lily!’ Dorcas cries, ignoring everyone in the room to whom that sentence makes no sense. ‘I thought I would need to invade the Prefect’s Cabin to see you again.’

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Lily says, accepting Dorcas’ hug, and using it as an excuse to avoid looking around. ‘I had stuff to do.’

It’s vague, it’s almost a lie, and Dorcas is on the edge of discussing it when Lily says she is going to get a drink, leaving the room.

When she reaches the kitchen, Lily considers that having herself questioned by Dorcas was preferable, because of course she runs into James at the first opportunity.

And of course he already has a company.

He is with his back to her, holding a bottle of beer in his hand while he talks with a pretty dark-haired girl. In another time Lily would find amusing how James obviously has no idea what he’s talking about—muggle rock bands, a subject that Sirius would fare better—, but she can’t break a smile right now, because she sees that James is trying.

That’s what he is doing with that unknown girl. He is making a real effort to keep a conversation, trying to understand what she is saying; he is trying to look interesting, to gather her attention.

Ten days, she thinks selfishly. We kissed ten days ago and I can’t stop thinking about it and you are flirting with another girl.

He must sense her staring; he turns around, and his eyes find her for a brief second before Lily bolts through the door (she is running, and she won’t deny it), grabbing the first bottle she sees on her way out.

Sirius must have lied to her (you broke my best friend’s heart), because James looks normal. Not hurt anymore, just… normal. Not like he used to like her in those first glorious days of the summer—bright and hopeful and awaiting—but as if she is just anyone else. Ordinary.

It’s fair, all things considered. She couldn’t expect him to remain in love with the girl who kissed him then rejected him. But she sees it, clearly as day, what the future holds: James will move on whatever he feels for her (that boy was in love with you) and then he will do with someone else everything he used to do with her—that inviting grins, the glint in his eyes, throwing his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer, so… intimate. Familiar. Hers.

He will share with others what used to be hers.

She leaves the house, in search of a quiet place at the beach to sit on, and looks at the bottle in her hands. Wine. Not good. She will take forever to get drunk on wine and afterwards the headache won’t even be worth it.

But it’s all she has and James is somewhere in that house flirting with a girl (that’s not her) that didn’t reject him and he has every right to do it. Even if it’s a muggle girl. Even if the reason Lily is not with him is that she is muggleborn.

It’s ironic and it’s sad, but it’s not the same. This is a one-night thing. It’s the end of the summer, he’s probably just looking for the last bit of carefree summer adventure as the single guy he is. They will just dance with each other, close together, enjoying their freedom, finding a secluded room, and he will touch the corner of her lips, asking, and she will say yes because that’s the only answer she can give him.

It won’t mean anything, but this time it will be true and this time James won’t get hurt by it.

Maybe Lily should do the same. Not to get even, but to start her own way forward. She can’t be harbouring her feelings for him—wasn’t that the point of not advancing things? Wasn’t that why she lied to him? (That kiss had meant everything)

She takes a sip of the wine, then another and one more for good measure, and she rises, almost colliding with him. Of course.

‘Hey,’ he says awkwardly, arms extended to steady her. It lasts less than a second, but his hands over her arms burn all the same, stronger than the heat any day of that summer.

‘Hi.’

He is looking at a point over her head, unable to meet her eyes, his hand lifting the hair at the back of his head and Lily remembers running her fingers through the strands of his hair while they were kissing, enjoying the fact that for once she was the one messing it.

‘Look, I’m just gonna say it, okay?’ James says in a rush, not as when he is excitedly talking about something he finds interesting. ‘I’m sorry for—for everything.’

Everything. What does it mean?

‘I am too,’ she answers carefully. He takes a deep breath.

‘I heard we are going to be Heads this year—I don’t know what Dumbledore was thinking, really—and I don’t want things to be weird between us.’

Weird. Things were never weird between them before. They weren’t friends, then Lily barely stood him, then they were acquaintances, then they were friends, then they were flirting with each other and then they were so close to something.

But never weird.

Somehow this notion helps to clear the fog in her head.

‘I don’t want it either,’ Lily says, and there is no doubt in her voice. James seems to breathe again with her words.

‘Good.’ There is a moment of silence. ‘Can we forget everything and go back to being just friends?’

Lily steels herself. She takes a look at James’ face—his eyes are on her forehead now, almost meeting her eyes but not yet ready—, one last look to admire him in the darkness of the beach and she is not lying when she says: ‘We can.’

By the end of the night it will be a lie, though, and that’s number three.

___________

They are trying and because no one tries better than James Potter, they are almost achieving it.

They go back to the house, keeping a safe distance between them so no one could misinterpret it, but whatever their friends see in their faces seems to relax everyone. Lily and James are fine, they believe, they are over that weird thing between them, and Lily starts believing it too.

She can do it.

A bottle of gin finds its way towards her group and the music is exciting. It’s a party, she is on a party, and it’s easy to join Dorcas in the middle of a dance, and it’s even easier when Dorcas is replaced by a cute muggle boy who doesn’t look anything like James (that’s why it’s easier—it takes only one second for her to look for any similarity and find none and it’s so easy).

She wonders if that’s why James was talking to that dark-haired girl. If he was avoiding finding Lily in someone else too.

But that’s a bad thought, it’s not a thought of someone who’s trying (and Lily is, she swears), so she accepts his arms, let who-knows-his-name twirl her around the room, but when he leans in to kiss her, she laughs and diverts—she is trying, but it takes small steps, so she says something about getting another drink and goes to the next room.

That’s a mistake.

A big, big mistake.

She finds them sitting close together on a couch that should only fit one, joining some silly drinking game. His arm is around her shoulders, holding a glass that’s nearly finished; they are laughing and as Lily watches it, the girl leans closer to speak something in his ear, her hand playing with the curls of his hair as she speaks. It takes a full second, but he grins, turning to her and winking.

It could be nothing, it could be just some joke, but it’s not harmless, Lily knows it. It’s a flirt, and James has every right to do it; he is free and Lily has just told him they can be friends. Friends don’t get jealous. Friends don’t get their hearts ripped out with the sight of the other smiling happily at someone else.

Lily can’t do it at all.

So she turns away and runs once more (she’s getting quite good at it by now), sprinting upstairs in search of an empty room, somewhere where she can rest until she can breathe again, until she can rearrange her expression into something normal enough for her to come back to the party, find that blond guy who is not James and enjoy her summer break as he is doing right now.

Until she can pretend everything is normal.

‘Lily?’

His voice breaks the silence of that room—though Lily knows she would have heard it anyway—and it sends a wave of panic through her body. She is not ready. She can’t look at him and still keep her promise.

James doesn’t know about her troubles—he is trying after all, and he is so much better at this than Lily will ever be—so he walks towards her, takes a look at her face and kneels in front of her.

‘Are you okay?’

‘No,’ she says, unable to lie. He would see through her anyway.

‘I saw you leaving—what happened?’

‘I need more time. I can’t...’

‘Can’t what?’ She doesn’t answer. James sighs. ‘Are you drunk? Come on, rest a little, I will bring you some water—’

‘I’m not drunk,’ Lily says. Another truth. ‘I just need—I want—’

‘What?’

In answer, she raises her hand and lets her fingers comb his hair. He shivers, his breath catching, his eyes widening and he holds her arm to stop the movement. Nervous. Insecure. She can’t fault him. They’ve been there before, at the edge of something, and she accepted only to turn him away a second later.

‘What are you doing?’

It’s a demand more than a question, and Lily attends it. ‘I don’t want anybody else touching you like I do. It’s mine.’

Her voice is ferocious and unfair and Lily waits for his cold reply, the one she deserves—she has no right to claim any part of him—, but it never comes. Instead, James blinks.

‘Then take it,’ he challenges. Lily does.

Her lips crash over his, and this time is not soft or patient. It’s desperate and when she tastes the whiskey in his mouth, she understands the difference and gladly accepts it. His hands are everywhere—holding her waist, climbing under her skirt, running through her hair to pull her closer—but what somehow stays with her it’s the moment he closes the door and then they are alone and the darkness is their friend.

The darkness makes it easy, embarrassingly easy, for her to break the kiss enough to lift his shirt and for him to slide her dress down and for them to find their way to the bed. He holds her, his lips incessantly, and a part of Lily wonders if he doesn’t want to break apart for fear of what happened the last time he did it.

But the majority of her is too wrapped in the feelings he is bringing to worry about anything. She accepts him, accepts every caress he distributes openly, and returns it eagerly. She tastes the saltiness of his skin, feels every muscle of his chest—the ones she has memorized after so many days at the beach though she had only imagined how they would feel under her fingers—, presses herself closer to him. His hands are exploring her—he saw her at the beach too—and then his mouth replaces his hands and the moan that escapes her lips is true.

She pulls him up, tasting her own sweat on his lips—it was a warm day and it’s a warmer night—and her hands work on the button of his jeans. There is a moment of hesitation—he breaks away, his eyes boring into hers even as the darkness barely allows them to see each other—and then it’s gone. He pulls her last piece of cloth then stands up long enough to take out his last one and then there is only them.

Only Lily and James, except they don’t feel like two anymore. They are one and in the darkness, Lily sees those colours that are so James once more, fireworks whose sounds are moans and short breaths and names whispered so low that the other could pretend they didn’t hear.

But Lily hears it and it’s hers. He is hers for that moment and she is his.

She lied before (and now she knows it). She can’t forget him. She can’t be just friends. James is bright sunny days, cosy cold nights and she longs to share it all with him (she couldn’t, but her mind can’t recall why right now). She locks her hand with his, her nails burying into his skin, and Lily doesn’t want to let go.

He holds her hand, pressing it so hard that she can’t feel circulation there anymore, and then he cries her name, this time impossible to deny it. He called her.

It’s not the last time he will do it tonight. He presses another kiss to her lips—it’s feverish and urgent and somehow even more desperate than the first one—, rests his forehead against her catching his breath and Lily enjoys the moment, enjoys that pleasure and soreness that runs through her body, enjoys how her chest brushes against his as she breathes, slower each time, recovering.

Recover. As if she could.

James breaks apart, rolling to the side and for a moment there is silence, the music distant, the world distant until it’s not anymore, until the world seems too close and the air too heavy, not one breeze to refresh it. Lily thinks of opening the window—it’s already opened, the wind bringing the smell of the sea to the room—when she realizes it’s not the air that feels wrong.

It’s them. No, it’s him.

‘James,’ she calls, panic and fear trembling her voice, coldness spreading through her skin in a way that it should not be possible, not on this summer day.

She can hear him rising from the bed, grabbing his clothes.

‘Lily,’ he answers shortly, opening briefly the door and she can’t see his face. ‘I know, it doesn’t mean anything.’

And that’s James Potter's first lie.

#Summer of Jily #efkgirldetective #Jily #Jily Fanfiction #James and Lily #read it like the first chapter but don't wait for the second one #i wrote this in one go because it couldn't leave my mind

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tooruluv · 4 years ago

Text

Hajime Iwaizumi x F!Reader

❝ enemies, as well as lovers, come to resemble each other over a period of time ❞

description: your feud with hajime iwaizumi only escalated throughout your years at hogwarts; whether it was on the quidditch field or who would be the first to sit down in class, there always seemed to be some sort of raging competition between you two.

genre: hogwarts!au, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, rivals, gryffindor quidditch keeper iwaizumi, slytherin quidditch captain f!reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings/notes: swearing, lots of angst, small depictions of violence, mentions of alcohol and drinking, not proof read im so sorry although i am an avid believer than both iwa and oikawa would be slytherins, i wanted to play with the idea of them being gryffindors, which actually makes sense when you think hard about it hfklhfd anyway! please enjoy!

part of a hogwarts collab ! collab masterlist posted here ! tysm to the wonderful @rintsuru for hosting <3

my general masterlist

You could feel his presence from across the dining hall, immediately dowsing you in a raging hatred that you only reserved for him. His arrogance mocked you as he basically danced into the Great Hall bathed in compliments.

The Gryffindor quidditch team won against Ravenclaw the night before. You didn’t know why he had all of the glory... he wasn’t even the captain. Being keeper had its perks, you guessed.

You rolled your eyes and focused your attention to your food. You tried not to stab the plate as you heard the varying praises to the boy in red and gold. “Congrats, Iwa!” and “That last block was brilliant!” nearly made you want to choke.

Hajime Iwaizumi was simply not someone who deserved such compliments. He was vile, annoying, and did everything in his limited power to poke and prod at every single one of your nerves. You used to ignore your burning hatred that you harbored for him; but late in your second year, you had let it all out.

And, as it turned out, he wasn’t quite fond of you either.

It had been years since then, yet the feelings remained the same. It was just the start of your sixth year and you already wanted to gouge his eyes out with the pointy end of your fork.

Tooru Oikawa caught your gaze and sent you a cheeky smile. You wished that you could hate the captain as much as his keeper, but you only let your hatred for him simmer for so long. He was quite fun when he wasn’t next to the little shit.

“Just wait for next week when you verse Slytherin! You’re sure to win!” a small Gryffindor told them.

“I wouldn’t be too sure.” You said, perhaps a bit too loudly. You lacked volume control, after all.

“What was that, Slytherin?” Iwaizumi turned to you. His gaze was fire on your skin and you wanted nothing but to catch him aflame as well.

“Your arrogance and cockiness proceeds even you.” You said, voice monotone and venomous against the recent silence at your speech. “I wouldn’t be too sure of your success.”

“Say that again after the match.” Iwaizumi turned back to accept another compliment and find a place to sit at his house’s table.

You wondered if you would get expelled if an apple happened to launch out of your hands and land on the back of his head.

Late in your second year, you had enough of Hajime Iwaizumi.

The both of you were in a silent competition the minute you were introduced to each other in your first year. It was never anything serious, just two eleven year olds who liked to be at the top.

It wasn’t until your second year that you started to feel genuine distaste for him. You had buried the thought of “hate” for a long time, masking it to be annoyance and opposition.

The hatred was much deeper than a surface burn.

It was during charms class that you finally snapped.

It was not more than the simple mutter of his breath. It was a mispronunciation of the spell and the tap of his wand against the table that made you lose your control.

“Hajime! Can you please, for the love of Merlin, shut the fuck up!” The harsh language created a tense silence through the classroom. No twelve year old had the balls to curse that hard in front of that many people, including a professor. “If you are going to be an idiot, at least try to hide it.”

Hajime Iwaizumi turned in his seat to face you, irritation and vexation easily overpowering his shock.

“Funny that you’re saying that.” He said.

“You’re so ridiculous.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I’m Hajime Iwaizumi and I am a perfect student that can’t even properly pronounce a simple spell! But that doesn’t matter because guess who’s a keeper for the quidditch team when I’m only a second year!! I am perfect!! Literally no one likes you.”

“Trust me, no one likes you either.”

No one meaning, and translating to, I don’t.

Just to show off, you easily cast the charm that he had failed. Charms was your strong subject, so you only needed to say the spell and flick your wand before turning your attention back to him.

He was nearly smoking from his ears, he was both embarrassed and livid.

You waved to Kei Tsukishima as you caught his gaze from the side of the hall. He was a fellow Slytherin and a good friend, though neither of you would admit that to each other.

He nodded as his greeting. He shoved his book back into his bag as you made your way to his side.

“Hey, Tsukki.” You said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until practice tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m waiting for Yamaguchi.” He turned his body to lean against the wall. “We’re going to Hogsmeade today.”

“No invitation?”

He sighed. “Would you like to join us, Captain?”

“I was joking, no need to sound so enthusiastic.” You chuckled. As you started to speak again, Tadashi Yamaguchi left the classroom the two of you stood outside of. He smiled at you, his green and white reflecting off of his eyes.

“Captain!” Yamaguchi greeted, putting an arm around your shoulder. “Are you coming to Hogsmeade with us?”

“Be careful, the idiots are coming.” Tsukishima interrupted and warned, motioning over your shoulder.

You turned around to find Oikawa and Iwaizumi walking next to each other, laughing about something only the two of them knew. You had to hold back from making a comment.

“Yoohoo!” Tooru Oikawa caught your eye. You sighed and turned back to your fellow Slytherins, sharing a look.

“Hello, Tooru.” You felt him beside you before you looked.

You purposely didn’t look at Iwaizumi.

“We’re celebrating our win tonight, you guys should join!” Oikawa invited. You heard Iwaizumi’s exhale of frustration, but you only rolled your eyes in an attempt to ignore his presence.

“You want a group of Slytherins hanging out with you, celebrating your win, when we go against you in less than a week?” Tsukishima spoke up. He moved off of the wall. “No thanks. Come, Yamaguchi. Let’s go.”

Yamaguchi waved goodbye and followed his best friend down the hall. You pivoted to fully face the two Gryffindors.

“I’ll come.” You said, mainly out of spite.

Tooru Oikawa was naturally outgoing. He was the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, a flirt, and all together a pretty chill person. You didn’t mind calling him a friend, despite the vast differences between you two.

One vast difference being his best friend.

Which is why you found yourself next to him as soon as you entered the Gryffindor party. The cascades of burgundy and gold created a deep atmosphere in the hidden room, lights dancing along the dark walls and the smell of various alcohols filled the air. It was a Gryffindor party, that much was true.

You were one of the very few Slytherins that occupied the room. Your eyes caught sight of only a couple, most of them much younger than you and just happy to be at one of their first few parties.

“Oi, a snake has crawled into the winner’s common room.” Oikawa joked as he handed you a can. You accepted.

“A snake in a lion’s den, I wonder who will win.” You quipped.

“The lion, for sure.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. Snakes can eat things 100 percent their size.” You raised a brow and opened your can.

“Hm,” Oikawa looked over his shoulder and called out for someone you didn’t see. “Hey! Who do you think would win, a lion or a snake?”

“A lion obviously.” It was Hajime Iwaizumi.

You let out a groan, immediately losing your sense of humor. “Ah, you’ll see in less than a week.”

“I don’t think I will.” Iwaizumi said, stoic and annoyed. “This win was only one of few.”

“I suggest you just celebrate this win.” You took a sip. “Because I don’t think the losing team would like to come to the winner’s party.”

“That just means I will not be seeing you, which is a grand idea.”

It was the time of year just before winter, where the air starts to cool but the sun still warms your skin. You took a breath and held your broom at your side.

It was near minutes before the anticipated game against Gryffindor, and you could hear the crowds already. The rivalry between your houses was something that everyone enjoyed; the rivalry between you and their keeper was all you.

“Alright team.” You pivoted to the team behind you. “We’re playing Serpent first; and if we don’t get any points within the first two minutes, I’ll hold up the signal for Green. Got it?”

“Got it.”

You had a pretty well-rounded team in your honest opinion. Tsukishima was perfect as your keeper, he was never one to let anything get past him. Your chasers included you, Yamaguchi, and another girl named Yui Michimiya. You had the Miya twins for beaters. And, rather recently, you gained a new seeker named Tobio Kageyama. The same age as your keeper, but only wanted to join quidditch out of hate for the Gryffindor seeker (and who were you to deny that?).

The Gryffindor team was not one to mess with, they had a nice team too. Iwaizumi as the keeper, the Idiots Nishinoya and Tanaka as beaters, their new seeker Shoyo Hinata... but the problem was their chasers: Oikawa, Kiyoko Shimizu, and Wakatoshi Ushijima. They were so quick on their brooms, it was like working against wind.

Today was no day to lose.

“It’s our first official match of the year.” You encouraged. “Let’s show them who not to mess with.”

“Let’s absolutely destroy them.” Atsumu added.

You grinned.

As you headed towards the field, you could feel the adrenaline creeping into your bones. Quidditch had become routine, simple muscle memory as you moved to your starting positions.

The Gryffindor team appeared, and you felt the excitement enter you in a rush of air.

In the air, Hajime Iwaizumi felt at peace. He was very good at what he did, and he knew that, and the game was something he was passionate about.

He was also passionate about beating you.

You were the bane of his existence. You had never once sent him anything other than something bitter or sarcastic. You were an annoying pest that he simply couldn’t get rid of.

And as you threw the Quaffle into the goal just above his head, Iwaizumi felt his eye twitch.

Slytherin won, Tobio Kageyama’s hand high with the Snitch inside.

You watched in triumph as the teams descended on the brooms. From the skies down, you cheered.

“Congrats, Slytherin.” Oikawa said, though his tone was bitter and sour.

You knew that he hated losing, so you didn’t push it. He was a friend, after all. Sending him just a small “I’m sorry you didn’t win” smile, you headed to your team. You gathered them into a hug, or rather-- a huddle, and ruffled the hair on Kageyama’s head.

You peeked over your shoulder to catch sight of Iwaizumi. He was standing, hands at his sides, red face and eyes blank of any expression other than anger.

You smirked at him.

Hajime Iwaizumi was on the other side of the victory this time, silently brooding as he picked at his food in the Great Hall. The Gryffindor table emitted zero volume.

He was pissed off the second you entered the hall, Kei Tsukishima and Tadashi Yamaguchi walking beside you. The green and white seemed to glow, mocking him in the worst way imaginable.

Oikawa tried to bring his attention back to the food, but Iwaizumi was focused primarily on you. You were gloating, relishing in his loss, taking delight in the compliments from your house. A Hufflepuff appeared at your side, and you smiled as you thanked them for their congratulations.

He felt sick.

You could not help but drown yourself in the triumph. You walked on air, the feeling of superiority tickling every inch of skin it could touch.

You waved goodbye to a couple of friends, heading directly to the Gryffindor table. You placed your hands on Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s shoulders, leaning to place your head right between theirs.

“I suppose the snake beats the lion.” You sent a wink to Iwaizumi, knowing full well how it would provoke him.

“Fuck off.” Iwaizumi shoved your hand off of his shoulder.

“Go receive your praise at the Slytherin table.” Oikawa shooed, fork in hand. “You won’t find it here.”

“Sore losers.” You mocked just for fun. You stood straight. “I imagine that I would be the same, given it were the other way.”

You basically skipped back to your table for breakfast.

You were absolutely elated for the rest of the day. It was quite similar to being on cloud 9, winning your first game of the year against your rivals. The look on Hajime Iwaizumi’s face only added to the feeling.

You were walking down the hall, talking to a fellow Slytherin girl who had her arm wrapped in yours. She was going on and on about how she wished she could have imprinted Kageyama’s snitch catch to her memory.

That was when your shoulder collided directly into a firm body.

Your arm was ripped away from your classmates, along with your bag that fell onto the hard ground with a loud thud and wisp of parchment and ink. Everything in your bag now scattered the ground, covered in the dark ink and dirt.

Your mood was too high to get too angry. It was an accident; you would bite your tongue and clean up the mess.

Until you realized just who’s shoulder you ran into: Hajime Iwaizumi. Your greatest enemy and now destruction of your contents.

“Watch where you’re going next time, Hajime.” You grunted, kneeling to save some of your parchment before the ink could reach it.

“Perhaps if you had your head out of your ass, you wouldn’t have run into me.” Iwaizumi responded. He had turned to face you midway through your fall.

“As if you didn’t feel this way a week ago.” You told him, standing up. Nearly everything that was in your bag was soaked, including the bag itself. You inhaled deeply. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Now, why would I run my shoulder into you on purpose hoping to ruin your mood?” He asked. “You must be very arrogant to think that everything must be about you.”

You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes. “I will not let a piece of shit such as yourself bring my mood down today. Today is a good day.”

You knelt once again to find your essay that you had written for Snape, searching your documents. Only to find it one of the few that were directly under the ink, completely doused in black.

“Actually, fuck you.” You lifted the paper. Ink dripped off and onto the ground. “Do you know how long I worked on this?”

“I don’t know, a couple of minutes?” Iwaizumi shrugged. “You aren’t exactly the best at your schoolwork.”

“You wish you knew me well, but you don’t at all.” You felt anger boil in your chest. “I worked very hard on this essay. Days, even. And you destroyed it in less than five seconds..”

“There’s the Slytherin in you.” He let out a humorless laugh. “You think everything has to be about you, and if it doesn’t than someone is out to get you. Your ego is so fucking enormous that you can’t even muster the idea that maybe something isn’t about you. You didn’t even win, Tobio won the game for you. God, why don’t you go make a friend instead of standing here arguing with me about an accident?”

And then, “You really are a raging bitch, aren’t you?”

The girl that you were talking to had wide eyes, and you were sure that she was ready to fight. A couple of bystanders that were once just listeners started to mumble. And you.... you couldn’t fathom words.

Your feud with him had grown deep, but it had never gone as far as that. In front of a crowd, no less.

It was one thing to make comments, to be bitter and roll your eyes at each other’s presence. It was one thing to bicker, to fight, to joke to friends about the other’s incompetence and purposely pull on each other’s strings.

It was something else completely to call you a bitch in front of everyone in the middle of a hallway after a thread of insults.

You fake smiled, feeling unwanted tears threaten their way to your eyes. You would not allow yourself the angry tears; they would only make you angrier.

“You’re more than just an asshole, Hajime Iwaizumi.” You told him. Because you truly didn’t have any words.

“Calling a woman a bitch is the worst insult. Those are fighting words.” Oikawa’s older sister used to say. “It’s comparable to calling a man a pussy.”

Hajime Iwaizumi didn’t think much while he spoke. He just said the things as they came, especially when he didn’t really care much about what you thought of him.

But, calling you a bitch... that felt as if it were crossing a line that he didn’t have the authority to cross. And the look on your face after he said it was one that he had never witnessed on you.

At practice, his head still held the image of you.

He was confused. Why did he regret calling you a name? It wasn’t as if the two of you don’t argue in front of people all of the time. In fact, it was nearly a common occurrence.

For some ungodly reason, he felt a tug at his chest.

“Maybe you should apologize?” Oikawa suggested.

“Why would I apologize to her?”

“Because I think you went a little bit too far.” He told his best friend as truthfully as possible. “Because as much as I think the rivalry between you two is fun, she’s still just a girl. And because my sister said you should.”

“You wrote your sister?”

“Yeah, of course I did.”

For several days, Hajime Iwaizumi hadn’t seen you. You didn’t eat in the Great Hall, you didn’t come to the classes he had with you, you didn’t go to Hogsmeade like you usually did on weekends.

So, he came to your practice.

He was hoping to apologize. It was something he had never done to you before, and he had practiced it quite a few times. Just a small, “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch in front of everyone.”

Yes. That should be fine and the two of you could go back to the regularly scheduled loathing.

But the second he stepped onto the field, the two beaters stood in front of him.

“I wouldn’t.” Atsumu said, holding his broom. “She’s been in a mood.”

“I know, I’m the reason for that.” Iwaizumi said. “I just want to talk to her. Just a second.”

“I wouldn’t.” Osamu repeated. “Whatever you have to say, it’s gonna have to wait.”

Iwaizumi nodded, looking at the twins. He was going to ask them to tell you that he had been there, ask them to ask you to meet him somewhere or something so he can get the stupid apology off of his chest, when you appeared behind them.

“Get off of my field, Hajime Iwaizumi.” You said. You had been at practice for the past two hours (according to the sign ups), yet your voice was even and you hadn’t even broken a sweat. In fact, your voice spit toxin in his direction.

“I just wanted to...”

You had taken off before he could even say his second word. The twins followed right after.

Tooru Oikawa took a place beside you. It would have been normal, if it were not for your avid avoidance of anyone with a Gryffindor robe on.

“Hello, Tooru.” You said without sparing him a glance.

The thing was, you weren’t angry with him. You didn’t hate Oikawa, you hated his closest friend. And by association, you didn’t want to talk to him just as much. Oikawa had always been the middle ground between the doom and gloom that was the dark haired man you hated.

“I think you should talk to Iwa.” Oikawa said. Plain and simple, to the point.

“I think you should mind your business.” You retorted. “I never talked to him to begin with, what’s different now?”

“Because now is different.” He grabbed his book as the professor walked in. “Now, you won’t even say your smart ass remarks or tell him how fucked up his hair looks. Now is just... boring and sad.”

“So you want me to talk to the guy I hate in order for you to not be bored?” You scoffed and collected your things. “Truly, you are his best friend.”

You left just as the professor started talking, receiving a few stares in the process. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to that.

You were walking with Tsukishima, laughing at your attempts to get him to smile. Your team had really taken your mind and restored your confidence. You figured, as long as you didn’t see the man you hate then he simply didn’t exist. It was that easy.

Until you accidentally caught his eye across the street.

It had been snowing, so most of the students were in their winter gear and warm clothes. You yourself had a hat and scarf on, gloves to cover your hands despite the hot to-go mug of cocoa in them.

Hogsmeade was quite busy with everyone getting last minute holiday gifts and hurrying to hang out before break. Yet, somehow, your eyes found the brown of Iwaizumi’s.

You turned around, forcing Tsukishima to follow. The younger boy didn’t even have to ask about your change in demeanor, easily falling into pace beside you.

You felt a hand on your wrist, and heard your name being called. “Hey. Can I talk to you? I’ve been trying to apologize...”

You stopped dead in your tracks, as if you were pulled on a leash. As if his bare hand touching your empty gloved one had scolded you. Iwaizumi stood before you, red cheeks from either the cold or from rushing after you. Either way, you wanted nothing to do with it.

He had spun you in his grasp, his jaw tight and eyes searching yours before falling to his hand around yours. His grip on your wrist was tight, and he swallowed as his eyes found yours again.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You snatched your arm away. “Have you ever considered that? I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want to hear your half-ass apology!”

“I have been trying to talk to you.” He said. “I...” His eyes scanned yours. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me that you don’t want my apologies?”

“You’ve made it very clear what you think of me, so I hope that I can make this very clear for you,” You took a deep breath. “I hate you. I don’t like you, I have never liked you, and I hope that whatever it is that is eating you up inside continues to do so.”

Hajime Iwaizumi’s eye twitched. He started to take a step towards you, but decided against it, falling back into the same step. “I don’t...” His voice was nothing as you had ever heard it. “You...” His eyes clouded with the emotions you were familiar with. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

It was a sudden realization. It was not something you had even considered before, not something planned or reasoned. It was much like a tsunami, a build up of unrelated activity that brought something else entirely.

Emotions were unfortunate things. If you feel extreme emotions for someone, no matter what... they are still very strong feelings.

Hate to love, what a strange concept.

You held the potion below your nose, inhaling the scent.

“What does it smell like?” Snape asked.

“It smells like... bergamot.” You distinguished the varying smells. “Apple. And... lavender?”

You stepped back and hoped no one could see you connecting the dots through your eyes.

Tooru Oikawa was an observant person. He was known to be the person who knew the best for his team, easily finding the perfect techniques for each on the field and as encouragement. He was one for connections and relationships.

Which is why he knew that you were masking feelings of something else with this burning hatred. Which is why he knew why you felt so bad after Iwa called you a terrible name in front of an audience. Which is why he knew who it was when you listed your amortentia scents.

He tried to send you a look from his seat across from you, classes later. He wanted to tell you that he knew; that he knew there was something more to what’s going on, and that something was Iwaizumi.

You just sent him a middle finger, knowing full well what he was getting at.

Your feelings didn’t just suddenly arrive. And you were full of confusion, disorientation, and most of all... anger.

For as long as you could remember, Hajime Iwaizumi was supposed to be your arch enemy. He was your nemesis on a daily basis. He was the reason for your annoyance. He was the reason for your hatred for the colors red and gold. He was the reason you became the quidditch captain. He was the reason for the breath leaving your lungs.

And he was the reason for the breath entering.

You were pissed. You were pissed that you had unrealized feelings for the man you were supposed to hate, have hated for years. You were pissed that your love had been in a game of chess, where the only outcome is to win or forfeit. You were pissed that the entire time you had spent a vast majority of your time hating, loathing, rolling your eyes at... the entire time you had a reserved space for hate, when it should have been quite the opposite.

The luck must have been exclusively for someone else, because it seemed as though whoever created you had decided to have a fun game.

You had punched Hajime Iwaizumi once.

It was something you thought of a lot, and it was the main reason Iwaizumi chose not to test you too closely to that day.

He was rolling his eyes at something Oikawa was saying when you walked by. You were heading to your quidditch practice, the captain not one for latecomers. And he caught sight of you. He quickly jumped from his spot and stopped you from passing.

“Out of the way, Hajime, I have practice.”

“Oh, right, because you’re on the quidditch team now.”

“I am, thank you very much.” It was the beginning of third year, and you were not only annoyed but you were also a Growing Person going through puberty. You did not have time to deal with a teenage boy pissing you off. “You forget that not everyone got on the team their first year of trying out.”

“Because we’re better than the entire Slytherin team.”

“Talk to me when you win a house cup.” You tried to push past him, but he stood directly in front of you in one step. “Move, or be moved.”

“What are you going to do? Punch me?”

So, you did. Your fist collided with his cheek before you could even register that it had happened. Oikawa gasped out loud, it quickly turning into a laugh.

“She punched you!” Oikawa laughed, grasping at his sides. “Ah man!”

While Iwaizumi touched his cheek to check that— ah yes, you really did punch him— you were already walking away to the practice field.

Iwaizumi missed you, if he were being fully and completely honest with himself.

He found himself searching for you in classes or in common areas, prepared for your snide remarks and bitter taunts. He found himself waiting for you to roll your eyes at his presence; looking for you to quip about the next quidditch game.

But when none of it came, he felt out of place.

He actually missed your annoyed banter. He missed you shoving your middle finger in his direction. He missed the redness on your cheeks when you would try to calm yourself down. He missed the silence that would escape you if he entered a room and you were anything other than angry.

He missed catching you smiling at someone and watching your face change. He missed the arguments in class. He missed the little comments during eating.

Confused, he pushed those feelings down as he watched you eat with some Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff that he had never talked to before.

It had been several weeks of silence from your end. You had thrown yourself back into quidditch before the break, happy to have a distraction from whatever the fuck you were feeling. You weren’t going home for the holidays, so you spent some time planning for the spring and classes.

You found yourself outside, sitting in the snow and writing a make up essay for Snape. You had found a nice spot under a roofed area, so nothing smudged your writing (or, you know, covered it completely).

“Oh.” A voice said from above you.

You looked up to find Iwaizumi, hands in pockets and staring at you as if you had never existed and he was discovering you for the first time.

“I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here.” He said.

“Yeah, obviously neither was I.” You started to put your things away.

“No... no comment?”

“Hm?”

“No... snarky comment? No you look terrible to me?”

You shook your head. Mainly because you didn’t have the energy. You were content, bored, and just overall exhausted. You had exhausted yourself in thinking of every possible outcome to your love for the man in front of you, none of which made any sense.

None of it made any sense.

It was as if one moment, you were standing on ground. And the next, you were swept away by a giant wave that you thought was only an earthquake. You hated love.

“Then, can I finally say what I have been meaning to?”

“No.” You finally got the last of your things into your bag.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why can’t you just hear me out?” He stood in front of you, hoping to stall your leaving. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I shouldn’t have called you a bitch, and I should have...”

“And I don’t want to hear it.”

You started to leave, but he jogged to jump in front of you again. Through the years, he had gained height compared to you. You weren’t necessarily kids anymore, you weren’t at eye level to just punch him in his cheek without reaching for it.

“God, you’re fucking annoying.” You shifted your bag on your shoulders. “You want me to call you a name so it can be even? You want me to tell you that everything is fine and we can go back to our constant fighting? What do you fucking want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” He asked, voice rising to match yours. “What do you want from me? I’ve been trying to get your attention for over a fucking month and you have given me every reason to just stop.”

“Then why don’t you!” You dropped your hands. “Why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“Why?”

“Why what, Hajime?”

“Why?” Iwaizumi let out a small breath, the grey cloud leaving his lungs. “Why won’t you just let me talk to you for five minutes?”

“Because I don’t want to! Because I don’t want to hear you make up excuses. Because I cannot listen to your voice for too long.”

Before you could stop yourself, before you could recognize your own voice, before any thoughts arrived, you said, “Because for some fucked up god awful reason, I’m in love with you!”

Everything froze all at once. The oxygen left your lungs, the snow stopped falling, and everything became so unbearably silent.

You stared at him, regret drenching you in an instant as if the tides of the ocean had rose and fell in one single motion. You couldn’t breathe, your heart seized in your chest and against your ribs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into his face, fearing to find yourself lost and never found.

He let out a single breath. And you held yours.

fin.

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