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sunsents · 3 years

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Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

#angst #hp angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley series #reader insert #harry potter fluff #harry potter fic #fred weasley imagine

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Telltale Talent

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] When Dream tries to teach you how to spar, he learns that you’re more than what meets the eye.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: this was requested by an anon who wanted a fun sparring practice with a surprise! here’s to the first fic of 2021, and i hope you enjoy <3

Clay stared down at the map on his desk, his fingers curling tighter around the quill in his hands. A mess of scribbles and circles gazed back up at him as he made another mark. He bit back the sigh that threatened to escape his throat, his brow twitching.

You were doing it, again.

He could feel your eyes on him from the other side of the room, practically boring a hole through his skull. He clenched his jaw, chewing on his lip as he tried to focus his attention on the map lying before him. If you were going to do what he thought you were going t—

At that exact moment, you opened your mouth, but he spoke before you could.

“No.”

Almost immediately, a whine flew from your lips, and you thrashed your legs in annoyance. “What?! Why not?” You frowned, determination etched into your features. “It’ll be a good experience!”

This time, he actually did sigh, lifting his head to look at you dead on, balancing his quill between his fingers. “For one, it’s not like you’re not going to go into battle, anyway.”

Your frown deepened, a line forming between your brows as you shot him a longing look. “That doesn’t mean you still can’t teach me how to spar.”

He pursed his lips, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “There’s no need to.”

For a few seconds, you simply stared at one another, your eyes swimming with resolve as he grimaced. Then your face lit up, and you shot your arm into the air, making him jump.

“Self-defence!” you shouted, your entire body practically glowing with hope. “If you teach me how to spar, then I could use it for self-defence purposes.” Before he could open his mouth to retort, you cut him off with a cold look. “Clay, you can’t tell me that there’s no chance that I won’t ever have to defend myself—you just can’t.”

Clay blinked at you, glowering. You weren’t wrong, per se. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but there was still a very real possibility that at any point, you could be in danger, regardless of whether or not you were on the battlefield. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you were capable of keeping yourself safe, but teaching you how to fight would mean having to admit that there may come a time where he couldn’t be there for you.

The mere thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He stared at you for a long moment, taking in the sight of your pleading face and clenched hands, your eyes desperately searching his. Then, he sighed once more, setting his quill down in its holder. “Fine.”

You let out a delighted squeal, springing to your feet before bounding over to his desk. Bending over, you pressed a quick peck to his cheek. His heart skipped a loving beat in his chest, and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Clay!” you cried, flashing him a bright grin as you pulled back. Your eyes curved into crescent moons as you giggled with glee. “You won’t regret this, I promise!”

He rested his head on his hand as he watched you cheer to yourself, pumping your air in a successful dance. A small smile flitted across his face, his emerald eyes crinkling at the corners as his map lay forgotten on the desk.

Oh, who was he kidding? You were far too cute to say no to, even if he wanted to.

“So, what’s first?”

He hummed, tucking a hand under his chin. Above you, the midday sun beat down on you both, the clouds watching with eager eyes as Clay paced around the clearing.

He was lucky to have found a spot within the forest that was both open and had plenty of soft grass. This way, you’d have a proper spot to practice while also having some semblance of cushioning beneath you in case you fell. As much as he wanted to simulate a real fight scenario for you, he didn’t want you to actually get injured. He could hardly manage to keep his cool when you got a simple scrape on your finger—there was no way he’d remain calm if you got hurt in a fight, practice or not.

His steps suddenly came to a halt, and he turned on his heel to look at you with a thoughtful glance. “Before we even properly start practicing,” he began, raising two fingers, “there are two things you should know and remember.”

Your eyebrows knit together as you let out a small whine, your shoulders sinking at your side. “Aw, is this a lecture?” You frowned. “I just want to skip to the fun part, already.”

Clay rolled his eyes as shook his head, but you didn’t miss the tiny smile on his lips as he wagged his fingers at you. “Ah, ah, ah. I’m the teacher here, so you better pay attention.”

You shot him a sour look, then quietly grumbled, “Well, you’re not a very fun teacher.”

He scowled at that, placing a hand on his hip. “We’re getting there!” His gaze softened, and his tone grew gentle as he offered, “Let’s just do this first, okay? I promise I’ll keep it short, and you will get to try a real spar, today.”

Your frown was slowly replaced by a smile, and you sent him a keen look, shifting forward onto your toes. “Okay.”

He grinned, taking a few steps back from you until he was standing on the opposite side of the clearing. “Good. First,” he said, pointing his two fingers at his eyes then to yours, “never take your eyes off your enemy.” He cocked his head as he lowered his arm. “It may seem obvious to you, but you’d be surprised by how often people forget in the heat of the moment.”

Your gaze was serious when you nodded, and he was almost taken aback by how quickly your demeanour had changed. “I can do that.”

He blinked for a second, then sent you another encouraging smile. “Perfect. Second,” he carried on, pointing downward, “remember that your feet exist.”

“Okay—wait.” You froze, your eyebrows furrowing together as confusion flickered across your face. “What?”

He chuckled at your confused expression, dropping his arm. “I know it sounds dumb, but it’s true! You see,” he explained, tapping a finger against his temple, “the human brain is kind of dumb, and a lot of the time when it comes to fights, a person’s first instinct is to focus on their enemy’s hands and immobilize them.” He raised his hand toward you, curling it into a tight fist. “After all, they are pretty effective weapons. But your feet can be just as, if not more, powerful.” His gaze darted back to yours. “Do you follow?”

Slowly, you nodded, your eyes staring directly at his knuckles. “In the same way,” he continued, “it’s also good to remember that your elbows and knees are two of the strongest parts of your body.” He raised one hand, the other reaching over to tap his elbow. “Don’t be afraid to use them, because they can be especially useful.”

Your lips parted as you bobbed your head. He could practically see the gears churning in your head, and he almost wanted to coo at how focused you looked. “Feet, elbows, knees,” your murmured quietly to yourself, huffing. “Got it.”

He dropped his arm, his lips quirking. “Awesome.” He turned slightly to the side, shifting his weight onto his back foot. “Now that the so-called boring part is done, do you just want to give it a first go and try a practice fight? First person to knock the other person over wins.”

Your eyes lit up, and for a split second, Clay could have sworn he saw something dark flicker through your gaze. But it was gone as soon as it had appeared, and he was soon blinded by your dazzling grin. “Sure!”

His expression mirrored yours as he brought his arms up in front of him, his hands forming fists. In front of him, your eyes quickly scanned him up and down, and you slowly moved to copy his stance. He felt a tinge of satisfaction shoot through him. You were a fast learner.

“I’m ready when you are,” he called, cracking his neck with a grunt.

Your eyes narrowed, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, and for a moment, all was still.

Then, in a flash, you were charging toward him, stopping only just in front of him to throw your fist at his skull. He smiled at your earnest effort, quickly twisting to the side. You nearly toppled forward when your fist met empty air, and he reveled in your widening eyes. A split second later, you leapt back, swinging your left leg up and into his side. But just before your shin made impact with his hoodie, he lifted his arm, his hand quickly latching onto your ankle and holding it in place.

“Ooh, nice try, sweetheart,” he hummed, shooting you a crooked grin. He drank in the shocked look on your face as his expression grew a fraction darker and his grip on your ankle tightened.

“But not nice enough.”

He swiftly threw down your foot, watching as you stumbled back at the force. You didn’t get the chance to regain your balance before he was suddenly looming beside you, his fist flying toward your nose. With a yelp, you ducked, your arm shooting above your head to grab his arm in midair. He blinked as your fingers dug into his sweater, curling tightly into the fabric. Then, a devious grin crept onto his face.

As much as you may try, he had the upper hand when it came to brute strength.

But to his shock, he felt something sharp and hard slam into his gut, knocking the air straight out of his lungs. He quickly back-pedaled, but your hold on his sleeve didn’t let up. He only barely caught a glimpse of your kneecap before you stepped behind him, twisting his arm around and pinning it to his back. Just then, he felt something brush against his ankle.

No way.

In the blink of an eye, his legs were flying out beneath him, and he was flipping into the air. With a thud, he slammed into the ground, a dull ache shooting through his back as the grass cushioned his fall. Before he could even react, you quickly placed your foot on his chest, keeping him thoroughly pinned down.

His eyes were the size of saucers as he took in your half-shaking figure, your eyes trained on his fallen form. You panted above him, your fists slowly uncurling. “Was—was that good?”

Clay gaped at you, his head spinning with what you’d just done. You had just knocked him, a trained soldier and practiced assassin, flat on his back with practically no instructions whatsoever. He had only given you two—well, two and a half—simple tips before putting you on the spot, and you still managed to take him down.

There was no sugarcoating it—you were a prodigy.

If he wasn’t in love with you before, then he definitely was, now.

Pride swelled in his chest as he closed his mouth, swallowing. He stared at you for a moment longer before shaking his head free from his reverie. He couldn’t wait to teach you more.

“[Y/N],” he breathed, his lips stretching into an awed grin, “you’re amazing.”

You blinked, pointing to yourself in surprise. “I-I am?”

He nodded without even an ounce hesitation, his grin growing even wider. “Very.” With a small grunt, he pushed himself back onto his feet, dusting off his behind before turning back to you. “Now,” he said, “do it again.” His eyes glinted with something akin to mischief. “I won’t go easy on you this time.”

You tilted your head at him as a devilish smile of your own tugged at your lips. “In that case, neither will I.”

He raised a brow at you, but he couldn’t stop the affection bubbling up in between his lungs. He felt his heart beat faster as you settled into a fighting stance, your arms raised in front of you. “That’s the spirit.”

Your eyes locked onto each other, and for a moment, all was still.

Then, you came barreling towards him, your eyes glimmering in the sunlight. His lips curled into a smirk as he raised his foot.

Perhaps teaching you to fight wasn’t too bad of an idea, after all.

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lettrespromises · 4 years

Text

KUROO, AKAASHI AND ATSUMU - TAKE MY HEART WITH YOU.

@luveranime wrote : ❝ Heyyy! Could you do one where kuroo and akaashi and atsumu are leaving to another country for volleyball purposes and they have to say goodbye to their s/o?🥺🥺 ❞ A.N : ❝ Dear reader, this is my first request and i’m nervous as heck, i’m trying really hard not to scream right now. anywhoopsie! i tried to make these both sad and fluffy because all my posts are kind of angsty and i don’t want to be pinned as a heartbreaker. i had so much fun writing this so thank you so much for requesting, sending lots of love and kisses your way! mwah! Sincerely yours, Nikki ❞ Genre: Kinda sad, kinda fluffy. Warnings: Bits of crying, mentions of sex but no actual smut (post time-skip for Atsumu).

Kuroo is the type of person who gets emotionally attached slowly, but once he’s attached to you, there’s no going back. His passion is unmatched (yes I may be writing this because he’s a scorpio and so am I), meaning that he will pour every ounce of love he possesses into your relationship.

He loves hard and will always put you before anything else. As a matter of fact, you were the one who had to force him to go abroad to study new volleyball techniques and come back as a better, more experienced player.

It took forever to convince him though. He felt guilty for leaving you behind and as stated before, you come before anything else, including volleyball. (Lucky you, he’s putting his first love after you.)

As much as he is excited to meet new players, learn new ways to be a more efficient middleblocker and discover a new country, his excitation counterbalances with the thought of leaving you. He’s both looking forward and dreading leaving Japan, and you in the process.

The latter causes him to lack slumber, he has terrible insomnias because his emotions are tearing him apart. Thankfully, you’re here to whisper sweet nothings to him and secure him in your embrace to make him fall back asleep (although, the few nights leading to his departure often result in him squeezing the life out of you when you’re sleeping, send help.)

The atmosphere of the ride to the airport is very close to pure denial. You’re both singing until ripping your vocal cords, his palm has found a permanent place upon your thigh, sometimes he squeezes your flesh to print this sensation into his head because deep down he knows this is the last time he gets to see you and touch you before a long time.

At the airport, you’re the kind of cliché couple to melt into each other’s embrace amidst comforting silence. You both feel like you’re all alone in the airport, like there’s nobody else there.

Your hands grip his Nekoma jacket hard, as if your life was depending on it, but after all, you just needed to keep this feeling with you at all costs- the feeling of your boyfriend’s toned arms around your waist, squeezing you like there’s no tomorrow while you keep your eyes shut.

Kuroo, on the other one hand, runs his digits through your hair in a comforting manner and delivers occasional pecks on the crown of your hair.

However, you both know it’s time (although you might have been trying to purposefully make Kuroo miss his flight), which results in Kuroo saying “Kitten, I know it’s hard but I have to go now.”, cue your cute self looking at him with pleading eyes. “Don’t give me this look, baby, I hate this as much as you do.”

He envelops your cheeks with both of his gigantic palms and presses one final kiss upon your lips, it’s everything you wanted and represented Kuroo so well- passionate, caring, both soft and rough on the edges. His thumbs wipe away the tears crashing down on your cheeks, once he pulls away due to the lack of oxygen, he doesn’t miss to slap your butt because... Kuroo...

Upon leaving, he puts his Nekoma jacket upon your shoulders while flashing you his toothiest smile : “I’ve always thought you rocked it better than me, kitten.”

As he makes his way to the main hall, he looks back at you and mouths a very touching “I love you, I’ll be back to you soon.” and blows a kiss your way, you stare at him and squeeze his jacket against your chest, at least you have a new cuddle buddy as a replacement.

Ahh, Akaashi, or as I like to call him: agASHEHHHH.

It’s safe to say that he is the polar opposite of Kuroo regarding display of affection. Love with Akaashi echoes to comfortable silence, but that certainly does not mean he wouldn’t get the moon for you if you asked.

Akaashi becomes unconsciously a bit more distant and a bit more silent the week leading up to his departure. He thinks that gradually separating himself from you will hurt you less once he’s gone, he just wants his absence to cause you as little pain as possible.

You, on the other one hand, get quite frustrated with this semi-silent treatment. He doesn’t come at your place as often, he cuts the conversations short and says he’s too busy with Bokuto-san to hang out with you.

The truth of the matter is, he’s hurting so much from the inside, and this idea of his is just eating him alive. It eats him alive because you’re away, and he’s the one blocking you off. He absolutely hates the way he’s acting.

Hence why, the day before of his departure, he crashes at your place with takeout, a bouquet of everlasting flowers and all the good stuff to have the perfect movie night.

Needless to say, you’re shocked once you see him and all these things he brought specifically for you. He takes time to carefully explain why he chose to bring you all of this: he ordered this peculiar takeout because it’s your favorite, he got you this bouquet of everlasting flowers so you can have a permanent proof of his love for you and the full ‘movie night’ equipment to light up the mood of this fatidical night.

Although he doesn’t really initiate any kind of affectionate touches, this night is the total opposite- he delivers pecks everywhere on your face, envelops you safely into his embrace, plays with your hair while you’re watching the movie and whispers a few “I love you so much.” in the crook of your neck.

Eventually, you both fall asleep and he carries you bridal style to your bed where you both spend the night together, comforted by each other’s embrace.

Akaashi insisted on going to the airport alone, the will to cause you as little as possible still embedded in his brain. Thus, he leaves you while you’re sleeping and admires you one last time before delivering a sweet peck on your forehead and whispers “I’ll be back before you can say it, dove.”

Once you wake up, you pat the other half of your bed only to realize you’re alone and Akaashi has already left. However, there’s a curious bag next to your bed. As you open it up, you realize it’s filled with Akaashi’s clothing and his signature smell is locked in within the fabric, there are also a bunch of neatly handwritten notes for each day he’s gonna be without you. All of them are reminders of your qualities, how much he loves you and memories of your dates with polaroid pictures.

Upon seeing all these precious things specially prepared for you, you go back to sleep, hugging his pillow close to your chest with a soft smile on your face, Akaashi’s favorite smile.

Oh well, now this is a wild one.

Dating a professional volleyball has its pros and cons, and needless to say, the biggest disadvantage of dating Atsumu is how often he needs to go abroad to play against a foreign team.

Now, of course you’re his number one fan and rightfully so and Atsumu asks you to come with him all the time but you can’t just leave your professional life aside, hence why it’s always bittersweet when he has to leave.

However, if it’s bittersweet to you, to Atsumu, it’s the best occasion to tease the hell out of you because you pout every time he brings up the fact he has to travel to another country. Cue the inevitable “Aw, is somebody gonna miss me or what?” and the obvious wink sent your way.

Teasing you is a way to make you crack a smile or laugh, which indirectly makes you forget about his trip for work or at least it makes it less painful because you’ve been laughing so much with your boyfriend. And to Atsumu, it’s the perfect way to capture a few candid pictures of your beautiful grin so he can admire them all once he’s far away from you.

Now, I hate to state the obvious but when I said that Atsumu is a wild one... I meant it. Hence why the night before his departure, he always makes sure to please you in bed and make you scream him name, because God knows when he will be able to do it again and hear such a sinful melody coming out of your mouth.

He does insist on you coming to the airport with him, and there again, he’s a wild one : Atsumu has no shame in making out with you right there, right now in the airport in front of the incredulous looks of the passengers around you.

He won’t hesitate and honestly has no shame regarding public display of affection : open mouthed kisses, trails of kisses left on your neck, a hand adventuring on your derrière, hell, even hickeys if he’s feeling like it.

Atsumu takes pride in leaving a few love bites, it’s a literal physical reminder that even though he’s not here with you, you know who you belong to. And nothing makes him smile more than imagining you staring at your reflection in the mirror once the bruises have healed up.

Nonetheless, the full make out session is broken by none other than the MSBY Black Jackal team’s obvious coughs, you know, a way to say “Hey, lovebirds, we don’t actually want to assist to the creation of a baby live in an airport and we kinda have to go.”

Both you and Atsumu know it’s time to part ways... But not before he plants a series of kisses on your plump lips and whisper a succession of “I love you so much, babygirl” or other “I’m gonna miss you so much, you have no idea”, orrrrr “You drive me crazy, baby.” and eventually the obvious “I can’t wait to make you walk weird for three days straight once I come back, princess.”

Eventually, you wave at Atsumu with a shy grin plastered upon your face, now that everything he said to you has sunk in, in return, he blows an obnoxious kiss your way.

Once he returns to the team, Kiyoomi keeps his distance, even more so than usual because, I quote, “Do you have any idea of how many bacterias are shared in a kiss, Miya? 80 millions, which gives me 80 millions to stay away from you.” cue Atsumu replying with a smirk “I don’t regret a single one of these bacterias you’re talking about, totally worth it.”

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years

Text

Chapter 3: Home Is Where The Heart Is

Mark Tuan X Reader

Part 3 of the “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” Series

Word Count: 10K

Genre: Angsty Angst (This chapter is actually the saddest one of the five chapters but don’t worry, it gets better soon)

Summary: Distance makes the heart grow fonder—or does it?

A/N: Hey guys! So this part sounded better in my head(it’s kind of all over the place) but so is my life hahahaha please enjoy! (Italics are past tense but I bet y’all already knew that)

“I’m sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later—“

The frustrated groan that fell from your lips was expected. This was the sixth time you tried to get in contact with your boyfriend tonight but all your attempts went straight to voicemail. You knew being in a long distance relationship was going to be difficult; not having Mark around anymore was driving you to the brink of insanity more and more each day.

It didn’t help that there was a seven hour time difference between the two of you. When he would be waking up, you were in the middle of class and if you were about to go to sleep, he was getting ready to go to soccer practice. As much as you tried to make sure that Mark heading off to college wasn’t going to affect your relationship in any way, there was only so much you could do to stop yourself from worrying about what the future really held for the two of you.

From the beginning of your relationship up until now, you and Mark experience distance on multiple occasions. However, the twenty-minute distance between your elementary school and his middle school was nothing compared to being stuck in California while he went off to study at New York University.

You remembered the day he found out he was accepted like it was yesterday. Not only was Mark extremely talented in almost every single sport any college had to offer, but the grades he maintained all throughout his high school career was unbelievable. It was only natural for all these colleges to reach out to him; offering many different kinds of scholarships and even full rides to some of the universities Mark could only dream of being able to attend.

When you were younger, the older boy would always fantasize about traveling to New York. He would watch all kinds of shows, documentaries and anything kind of tour program that the travel channel had to offer. At the time, you thought it was extremely adorable. Any time Mark seemed very passionate about something never failed to pull on your heartstrings. But when the many acceptance letters began coming in the mail, you wanted nothing more than to rip them all up.

You’d be lying if you said the breathtaking grin on his face each time he opened up one of the letters didn’t make you happy yourself. You were extremely proud of Mark for being able to excel in almost every single thing that he put his heart in to. To this day, it boggled your mind at the idea of how perfect he genuinely was. There was not one letter of rejection and it wasn’t shocking to you. Mark was the kind of student athlete every school wish they could have.

He had acceptance letters from almost every university in California and you tried to indirectly hint towards wanting him to choose from one of them. At the same time, you forced yourself to accept whatever it was that he wanted. After all, it was his life—his future. You were being selfish for wanting to get in the way of that. Unfortunately, everything you’ve been worried about since you’ve realized Mark was going away for college at the beginning of your sophomore seemed to come true.

Fights began to occur whether you liked it or not. Deep down, you knew it was harder for him because he was thousands of miles away from his friends, his family and his favorite person—but that was his choice. His schedule and your schedule tended to collide. You were both extremely busy at the same time and it was evident that making time for one another was harder than you both thought it would be.

He called you every single day for the first month that he got settled in and he never failed to mention just how much he hated it. The campus was huge; your parents allowed you to go up with him and his family to explore New York City together while helping him set up his dorm. It was honestly one of the best experiences in your entire life. Just like Mark, you’ve always dreamt about traveling the world and the longer you two were dating, all you ever really wanted to do was experience going on trips all around the world with him.

For the most part of the trip, the Tuan family had an itinerary of what they wanted to do while in New York but they did give you and Mark some free time to do whatever it was that your hearts desired. You found yourself at Central Park having a cute little picnic that he planned out prior to landing in New York and he also took you to the skating rink in the middle of Times Square. Watching him fall on his ass multiple times made you come to the realization that maybe Mark wasn’t perfect at everything—but that didn’t matter. He was still flawless in your eyes; and it was one less activity for you to get jealous over.

The days seemed to fly by to both his and your dismay and soon, you and his family were just hours away from heading back to California. You deemed yourself old enough to say that leaving Mark had to be the hardest thing you have ever done so far in your entire life. You’ve never seen him cry so much before and you didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Sure, the idea of not having his family around really upset him; but the fact that he was no longer going to be able to see that breathtakingly beautiful smile of yours—nor would he get to hear your contagious in person really broke his heart. If it were up to him, he would’ve held you captive and prevented you from going on that six-hour plane ride home. His grip on your hand as you all drove over to the airport was tight while his face was hidden in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck—I made a mistake didn’t I?”

You gently pulled him away from your nape in order to look at him and you could’ve sworn you’ve never felt a pain in your chest like you did when you saw his eyes so swollen and red from all the tears he cried. Out of force of habit, you cupped both his cheeks and tried to give him the best fake smile you ever put on before.

“No, you didn’t make any mistake babe. If anything, this decision had to be one of the best ones you’ve made so far. Four years will be over before you know it. Trust me, you’ll be over the moon when you finally become a successful engineer and you’ll learn that it was all worth it.”

“Will it be worth it though? Leaving you—no longer physically being with you. Not being able to kiss these pretty lips of yours, not being able to hold you as much as I want to, not getting to hold these dainty little fingers of yours that seem to fit mind so effortlessly; like they were made for me. God y/n, I’m going to miss you so fucking much. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t live without you.”

The tears were practically burning at your eyelids. Then don’t. You wanted nothing more than for him to change his mind and those two little words were on the tip of your tongue—but it was too late. He was already registered; he had a jersey for all three sports teams he was going to be a part of. His dorm was filled with all his items—this was going to be his home for the next four years and you just had to accept it for what it was.

“This is your future Mark—“

“You’re my future baby. All I want—all I could ever need, for the rest of my life is you y/n. I’ve known it since I was seven years old and I’ll know it when we’re eighty. Promise me, we’ll be okay. Please. I know it’ll be hard; missing you is probably the only thing really fucking me over right now. I can’t promise you that things are going to stay the same between us as much as I would hope it could, but don’t give up on me. Okay? I love you y/n, more than I could ever fathom in to words. We’re going to be okay.”

His words from that night came back like a slap to the face. It was like they were taunting you. The two of you were definitely not okay. Although his college experience was off to a rough start, things seemed to fall in to place for your boyfriend during the second month. When football season began, he had something to do to take his mind off of how much his heart was longing to be with you.

You felt at ease knowing that he was finally getting used to being so far away and that he was actually enjoying his college escapades. He informed you on all the new friends he was making, how practices were longer and more grueling, how the campus food was nothing compared to his mom’s cooking and how people in New York would walk like they were on steroids.

If only you could say you were having as much of a fun time with school as he was. Junior year wasn’t all that you thought it would be—but you also blamed yourself for your disinterest in anything that didn’t regard your boyfriend. Your life revolved around Mark and it was something you never wanted to admit out loud in fear of sounding pathetic. What person in their right minds would spend the only free time they had sitting around with their phone in their hand, waiting for a call from their boyfriend? Only you apparently.

Your family were quick to pick up on how you were no longer yourself; everyone and their mothers were well aware of how much Mark meant to you and equally aware of how much you meant to him. The two of you were magnets; where you would go, he would follow. Nobody could separate the two of you even if they tried.

There was a gravitational pull between you and your boyfriend and everyone knew that his absence had to be the reason you were always so out of it. You might have been there physically; whether you were at school, hanging out with your friends or just sitting at dinner with your family—but mentally, you were with Mark.

Your mom was actually the one who talked you in to either getting a job or joining a club. Seeing as how you weren’t someone who liked to interact with anybody you didn’t really know on a personal level, you decided to go with the former and found yourself applying to many different jobs. Unlike a lot of your classmates who chose to work at coffee shops or at the state library, you accepted the job at a grocery store ten minutes away from your house.

It wasn’t the most ideal job, but you could use some extra money. The first day of work was pretty simple; it was more of an orientation to get you prepared for your next shift. Your manager went over what was expected of you as a cashier, how you were supposed to wear your uniform, where you could find items if customers were to come up and ask you for assistance and other necessary information about your responsibilities.

Right as you were packing up your things and preparing to head home for the day, it was then you walked in to the break room and noticed someone sitting on one of the couches. That someone just so happened to be one of the biggest pains in your ass.

“Jaebeom, what the hell are you doing here?”

When you first were introduced to him a little over five months ago, you didn’t think he was going to get under your skin like he has been for the last few weeks. In the first week of his arrival from Korea, your teacher gave you the responsibility of showing him around the school. Not only did you not feel as if you were personable enough to be the one to actually give a campus tour, you cringed at the idea of having to be alone with him.

At first, he attempted at small talk with you; he wanted to know what your favorite food was, how your high school experience was so far, if you were in any extracurricular activities and the kind of music you listened to. You decided to not give him the time of day and tried to limit any interactions with him specifically because you didn’t think Mark would be too fond at the idea of you befriending another guy. Especially one he wasn’t all that familiar with.

You also felt that there was a chance Jaebeom took a liking to you. Although you never really thought too highly of yourself nor did you want to assume that he had developed feelings for you, he always seemed so eager in wanting to talk to you. In fact, you had yet to see him try and pester anyone else the way he would with you. It was if he was picking on you purposely.

A part of you felt as if you were being extremely rude towards him; he was nothing but friendly and patient towards you and you were nothing but hostile with him. His kind personality only lasted for so long. When he realized that you had no intention on being friends with him, his considerate nature took a 360 degree turn.

Out of nowhere, his flirtatious compliments soon turned in to insults. He also started picking on you; throwing paper airplanes in your direction to get your attention, always selecting the good supplies before giving you a chance to and even hiding your things while you were away from the table. You knew you were at fault for his behavior; your hostility towards him when he was nothing but nice to you was unfair on your part. But you knew guys like Jaebeom—you had a feeling he was like most of the guys at your school. As much as you enjoyed hanging out with Mark’s friends, they obviously only chased after girls for sex.

Your boyfriend was the only one with genuine interest in relationships and being in love. Jaebeom didn’t seem at all different; it’s as if his aura screamed trouble and the last thing you needed was someone to meddle with your relationship in any way. The older boy looked up at you incredulously; he was wearing the uniform you were just given and he was sitting in the break room—obviously that meant he was an employee and you were well aware of that.

It was just that you had a hard time processing; or accepting rather the fact that you were going to be working alongside someone you considered an enemy. Out of all the places—why did he have to work at the same grocery store that you just got hired at? He already gave you so much stress at school, you could only imagine it was going to be worse now that he was your coworker. You found out in that same week that he was a stock member, so you wouldn’t have to deal with him at all which you were glad to say the least.

The less time you had to spend around him, the better. To your dismay, your contact with Mark went from a couple times a day to only once or twice a week if you were lucky. That wasn’t the worst part; the distance seemed to be getting in the way of everything. For the last three years in high school, you were good with keeping up your grades. You were also very good whenever it came to participation and answering any questions your teachers would ask you.

You didn’t realize just how unhappy and dejected you were until you and your parents were called in to the office by your counselor to talk about your grades. Not only were you failing two classes, you were one letter grade away from being on probation. Your parents wanted to be understanding; although you never involved anyone in to your relationship, they were well aware that your behavior was the subject of Mark’s absence and his failing to call and text you. You began to feel like he no longer loved you the way that he used to—the way you still did with him.

If he did, wouldn’t he use every minute of his free time, no matter how exhausted he was to talk with you? There were countless nights you’d stay up past midnight because it was the only time he’d be able to contact you. Here you were bending over backwards in order to even get a glimpse of him and yet—he couldn’t; or didn’t even think about doing the same for you and it sucked. It sucked because all your biggest nightmares were coming to life right before your eyes and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t help but cry every time you thought about how he practically begged you to never give up on your relationship, no matter how hard it was.

Where was the boy who claimed to love you more than life itself? The same boy who would call you up at 2 in the morning just to cry over how much he missed going to sleep with you in his arms? Where was the boy who was willing to give up his entire college career if it meant being able to see you every day and who was this stranger who couldn’t care less about how you’ve been doing?

A part of you felt as if you wanted to confront Mark and tell him about how you felt, but you never got around to it because if he ever did get in contact with you, it was to complain about what he was suffering through or how his life was going. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there for him; you were so grateful that Mark trusted you with all of his worries and problems, but you missed being able to do the same with him. You didn’t want to accept it, but your boyfriend no longer cared about you and it was a hard pill to swallow.

As irresponsible as it was for you to cry while at work, there was one day in particular that you just had enough. You stayed up the entire night before, contemplating your relationship with Mark and wondering if it was even worth fighting for anymore. Keeping up a long distance relationship was a team effort and you knew you were the only one putting in your heart and soul to make sure it wouldn’t fall apart.

Your manager had a feeling something was off with you that day as soon as she saw you walk in with your shoulders slumped and tear stains on your cheek. When you were ringing up customers, you had zero energy and you weren’t even trying to put on a fake smile—you just did not want to be there at all. Most of your friends felt like giving you your space even if they were extremely concerned with your well being. But they didn’t feel like there was anything they could do.

Your sister moved out of the house to live with her boyfriend a couple of months ago and both of your brothers were away at college. It was just you and your parents and even then, they would both work up until late. You felt so alone—and it wasn’t like you had Mark to run to. Everything in your life was falling apart and you were so unhappy. You loved Mark, more than you wanted to; and more than he deserved as of right now.

There was nothing more you wanted than to fly up to New York and knock some sense in to him—you also wanted to kiss him for as long as time permitted you to. Only one hour in to your shift, your manager pulled you to the side and asked you if everything was okay.

Honestly, you didn’t know how to respond. You were definitely not okay; nothing was okay. By the weary expression on your face, she knew something was wrong and instead of trying to force it out of you, she allowed you a fifteen-minute break just to take a little breather.

Sure, you have been working there for quite a while; but you didn’t want to take advantage of your manager’s kindness. She already had done so much for you; whether it was switching around your schedule so you could study for your midterms or finding someone to cover your shift if you called in sick so you didn’t have to, you knew she was an employer who genuinely cared about her employees and it was something you would be forever grateful for.

Once she told you to head to the back, you found yourself releasing the quietest whimper before you broke down in tears. You didn’t care whether or not someone were to walk in on you crying, everything was just too much for you to handle. Your chest felt tight and your throat grew sore with every sob. Why was all of this happening to you?

Just months ago, you were living out your best life. You had your entire family to come home to every day, your grades were almost perfect, you had both your friends and Mark’s friends to make you laugh and take your mind off of how difficult school could be but most importantly, you had Mark. You were so busy wallowing in self-pity that you failed to notice that you were no longer the only person in the break room.

You felt Jaebeom before you saw him. He glided his hand gently along your back as a way to get you to slow down your heaving. When he noticed that you leaned back in to his comforting touch, he took that as a sign to hold you even closer—and he did. Jaebeom had brought you on to his lap and began to run his fingers through your hair while rocking you back and forth.

Although he knew he was getting in to dangerous territory; there was no way he could just let you cry by yourself. There was a chance you would be mad at him for taking advantage of you while you were in such a vulnerable state, but he didn’t care. He’d accept whatever you were to throw at him once you realized what he did to help console you.

What you weren’t aware of, was that he did in fact have a crush on you. It may have been a suspicion on your part, but it was true—and he made it painfully obvious that he liked you. On his first day when your science teacher had him sit with you, he was captivated by your beauty. Sure, Jaebeom has seen many pretty girls in his lifetime, but something about you stood out to him and he could explain what it was because he didn’t know himself.

However, when your teacher had you bring him around the school—take him to his classes, show him where all the important buildings and offices were; he learned that you were a no nonsense kind of person. You were also very bold and blunt; something he wasn’t used to in a girl. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. Unlike other girls, you hardly ever batted an eye to him nor did you appear to desire his attention. It wasn’t something he was used to; Jaebeom was always well-known and well-liked by his peers.

In the few months he’s been at your school for, he grew to be a crowd favorite. Everyone in your junior class either wanted to be him, be friends with him or date him. You however, wanted nothing to do with him and something about that made him all the more interested in you. He didn’t know why, but seeing you cry made his chest feel heavy. He had no idea why you were so upset, but he wanted to beat up whoever it was that made you cry.

Even if it wasn’t towards him, he’d observe the way you were such a bright and bubbly person whether it was with customers, your fellow classmates or your teachers. It was a bit of a stretch to desire a friendship with you, but he at least wanted to be civil. Jaebeom wasn’t going to lie, he got a kick out of teasing you and doing things he knew would get a rise out of you, but it was his only way of really getting to interact with you and he was going to take whatever he could get. When he realized you were no longer crying, he decided it would be best to get you off of his lap. You shocked both yourself and Jaebeom when you stopped his movements and cuddled in to his chest even closer.

“Wait—just a couple more minutes. Please?”

You didn’t know what came over you in that moment; whether it was because you were lonely and felt as if you had no one, or because this was the first time in a long time that someone held you in such a comforting way, but you didn’t want him to let go. You couldn’t help feeling as if it was wrong; being held by another guy who wasn’t your boyfriend—you knew Mark wouldn’t be all too happy if he were to find out that you were the one who wanted to continue being held by Jaebeom, but you weren’t able to find it in yourself to care.

The two of you stayed like that until Jaebeom told you he had to clock in, but once the two of you got up from off the ground, he pulled you against his chest and held you ever so gently. This was the first time you ever felt anything other than disgust for him and it actually felt pretty nice. He could’ve have just left you there; he could’ve allowed you to cry all by yourself and honestly he should have with the crude way you’ve been treating him, but he didn’t. You were evidently hurting and Jaebeom came to your rescue.

From that day on, your friendship with the kind-heartened boy blossomed immensely. Instead of hiding in one of your classes or in the back of your school library for lunch, you were now meeting Jaebeom in the courtyard. It took you a while to come to accept it, but being around Jaebeom felt like a breath of fresh air. Although his presence didn’t completely take your mind off of your failing relationship and what was barely left of it, he did make you laugh with some of the corniest jokes and he also brought you some of his mom’s homemade strawberry milk.

The longer you were friends with him, the more you learned that he was the complete opposite of what you thought he was. First, he was the biggest momma’s boy. Well—other than Mark, but being an only child, Jaebeom was always clingy and overprotective when it came to his mom. He wasn’t embarrassed to answer her calls if he were around you and one day, he brought you over to her café in order to let you try a few of her other concoctions. He was also a huge cat lover.

He was the proud father to five different cats he all adopted from the humane society. The fact that surprised you the most though; was that he was a b-boy dancer. He didn’t give off the vibes of being passionate for dance, but at the same time you didn’t think he was capable of taking care of anyone but himself—let alone five cats. You didn’t want to believe that there was anyone else for you other than your boyfriend—nor did you think you harbored any romantic feelings for Jaebeom; but at the same time, your chest would feel empty every time he would drop you home.

You wanted to believe that the love you had for Mark was enough to fight off the feelings you assumed were growing for the boy in question. It wasn’t until he called you outside of your house on a Saturday with a bouquet of roses in his right hand and a teddy bear in his left. You would never be able to forget how shy and flustered he looked; you never thought you’d see the day Im Jaebeom’s cheeks would be flushed with pink—it was even harder to process that you were the reason.

“Hey—I uh—would you maybe want to—I was wondering if you and I could—Junior prom?”

Shit. You were too focused on everything else going on in your life that you failed to remember than prom was in less than a month. Honestly; you didn’t really care about going. Mark never asked you about it and when you tried to bring it up to him one night, he told you he would be busy on that day so you ultimately decided you wouldn’t go.

There really wasn’t any point in going anyway; you were hardly close with anyone in your year and you didn’t want to waste hundreds of dollars on a night where you’d be alone and miserable. Plus, you already got to experience both Junior and Senior prom with Mark. Both nights were too amazing to even describe. Mark never failed to compliment how beautiful he thought you looked; in fact, most of the night was spent with him staring at you in awe of your beauty. There was no way you would be able to go to prom without tearing up over how much has changed in less than a year.

A year ago, Mark rented out a hotel room for the two of you to return back to once prom was finished and you knew exactly what his plans were for the rest of the night once he pressed you up against the elevator mirror and kissed you with all the energy he could muster. Even if you weren’t really in the mood to go, you didn’t have it in you to tell Jaebeom no.

Knowing the kind of guy he was, you were sure it took a lot for him to build enough courage to ask you such a nerve-wrecking question. The two of you may have been friends; but that didn’t necessarily mean you would want to go with him. As soon as he saw the small smile that he was falling for faster than he’d like to admit rise upon your face while you nodded your head in agreement, he returned back an even bigger and toothier grin. He was quick to hand you the gifts and pulled you in to his warm embrace before your mind could really process what was happening.

“I like you a lot y/n. Would you be my girlfriend?”

Hearing those words made your head spin. At this point, you were confident that Jaebeom liked you. He was so sophisticated and chic around anyone else but to you, he would conform in to the smallest little baby. He was so soft for you and followed you around like a lost puppy. You’d be stupid if you didn’t think there was even the smallest chance that he liked you.

Seeing him with such hopefulness in his eyes broke your heart; your relationship may not have been what it used to be, but there was no way you would ever cheat on Mark—nor did you want to give up on him just yet. You were waiting—what for, you had no idea. But there was a tiny voice in your head begging you not to give up on him just yet. You wanted to believe that one day soon, he would realize exactly what he was doing to you. He would realize how he was breaking your heart and if he didn’t hurry up and get his shit together, he would lose you completely.

“Jaebeom, I’m so sorry—I can’t—I—I have a boyfriend.”

When you watched his face practically drop at your confession, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Why didn’t you say something earlier? How could you lead him on like this? He was nothing but caring and thoughtfull; everything Jaebeom did was to make you happy. Something that only your boyfriend should be worrying about.

You didn’t feel like you needed to tell him everything about yourself nor did you feel as though that information was all that important. Yet—you couldn’t help but feel as though there was another reason as to why you didn’t tell him. You didn’t think it was because you didn’t want him knowing you were in a relationship just in case he did have feelings for you.

So what was the real reason? His frown was quick to disappear and you felt as if you’ve known the older boy long enough to distinguish his real smiles from the fake ones. The smile he was currently giving you did not reach his eyes. You wanted to reach out to him and give him a hug—but you would only be giving him more confusing signals.

“Jaebeom—“

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it okay? I should have expected it. There was no way someone so beautiful with such a charismatic and gracious personality was single. Please know that I won’t let my feelings for you get in the way of our friendship okay? Your boyfriend is a very lucky guy; I hope he knows that. I’ll see you on Monday, have a nice day.”

That was the first time you ever cried over someone who wasn’t Mark. Your heart hurt from Jaebeom. It was evident that he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy; nor did he seem to be the kind of person who would buy flowers for someone but he did so—for you. Jaebeom was changing his ways in order to impress you—to be the lucky guy who got to be the one who called you his. But that position has been taken for over ten years now and there was a battle going on between your mind and your heart on whether you wanted to continue your relationship or if you wanted to take a break from it.

That following Monday; you could tell Jaebeom was trying his best to show that the rejection wasn’t affecting him in anyway, but he was only human. You were the first girl ever that he fell head over heels for; so it was a lot for him not only to face rejection, but to hear the reason as to why. He wasn’t as talkative nor did he really show interest in anything at all. You even tried to come up with all kinds of conversations about topics you knew he was heavily interested in, but all your efforts failed.

You broke Im Jaebeom.

Thankfully, things didn’t stay awkward between the two of you for too long. If the only way he could have you in his life was as a friend, he was going to take it. Prom night finally arrived and you knew you should have been excited, but you couldn’t wait to get it over with. You didn’t even tell Mark that you decided to go—you didn’t think he would care anyway. It was disheartening for you to come to the realization that your relationship was causing you more anguish and pain than it was excitement and adoration.

When did Mark grow tired of having to put effort in to your relationship? When did he realize that you were the last thing he should be worrying about? When did he stop loving you? As much as you didn’t want to think or even believe that your boyfriend fell out of love with you, there was no other explanation as to why he’s been acting the way he has towards you. Sometimes, you felt that the only reason why Mark continued to stay in the relationship was because it was convenient for him. Your relationship continued for a span of a decade.

You were all he has known for the last ten years. You’ve seen it all; the good, the bad and the ugly. The idea of starting over with someone else, having to get used to someone else must’ve been troublesome. While you got ready for your prom, you were quick to pick up on your mom’s unusual behavior.

She was constantly texting someone on her phone and she motioned for your dad to walk over to where she was so she could show him what was making her so animated. You wanted to think it was because she was just excited that you agreed to go to prom, but something in your gut told you there was more to her exuberant exterior. You were just getting the finishing touches of your makeup done when the doorbell rang and your mom wasted no time making her way downstairs.

“Y/n! Jaebeom is here, and he’s looking especially handsome today!”

Your parents were aware of your friendship with the older boy and they seemed to approve of him. They were fond of the idea that he took care of you in the way Mark always did when he was still in California. You decided to leave out the fact that he liked you just in case it caused any unnecessary drama. After you finished putting on your dress and your heels, you started heading down to the living room and you could’ve sworn your heart rate increased as soon as your eyes landed on him.

Everyone with good eyesight could see that Jaebeom was exceptionally good-looking. You actually hated just how handsome he really was; but seeing him with his hair slicked back, wearing a suit and tie was all the more breathtaking. You didn’t think it was possible he could get any more handsome than he already was. When his eyes landed on you, his eyes widened in shock and you even saw his jaw drop a little bit. His stunned reaction was making you feel things you know you shouldn’t have been.

“Wow y/n you look—wow—“

You giggled softly as you playfully pinched his cheek as a way to prevent him from seeing the effect his words were having on you. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself. Shall we get going?”

He placed your corsage on your wrist and gave you his arm to hold while saying goodbye to both your parents. Jaebeom in more or less words, was the perfect gentleman. From the moment you both arrived to the hotel, he opened every single door for you, pulled out your chair for you and helped lift your dress to prevent it from dragging.

As amazing as the night had been so far, you despised the fact that you wished it was Mark there with you instead of Jaebeom; but it was only human of you to do so. No matter how much hell he was currently putting you through, you would rather go through the ends of the earth to be with him than to go to heaven with anyone else.

When your date excused himself to the bathroom, you decided to go on your phone until he was too come back. Right as you saw that you got a text notification, curiosity got the best of you since the only people who would get in contact with you these days were your parents, your siblings and Jaebeom. At first, you just assumed it was your sister wishing you a good time or your mom reminding you to watch your step. However, your heart both fluttered and sank when you finally opened up the message and saw who it was from.

Babe: Hey, are you free right now? Can we talk? 9:23 p.m.

You wanted to laugh hysterically. Out of all the times he could contact you, it had to be the night of your prom. A night where you were supposed to have fun and enjoy your last year and a half in high school. Was he really being serious right now? You wanted to leave his message on read; you told him that you were going to prom and you were sure he must’ve seen a couple of posts on social media from some of his friends in your grade that he still kept in touch with. But your heart was dying to hear what he had to say.

For some reason, you thought it was something negative. Those three words never led to anything good. Was he finally feeling the distance between the two of you? Was it suffocating him as it was slowly killing you? You didn’t know what he was going to tell you, but you couldn’t let it wait.

You: Sure, let me just go outside real quick. 9:24 p.m.

You decided to send Jaebeom a quick message that you needed to make a phone call so that he didn’t worry about your sudden disappearance. Once you made your way outside, you gave yourself a few seconds to recollect your thoughts. The last time you had a conversation with him that lasted for longer than five minutes was almost two weeks ago. It was currently almost summertime, yet the temperature was in the low sixties, so you began to rub alongside your arms to keep warm. After taking in a deep breath, you pulled up his contact and dialed his number.

“Hey baby. How are you?”

You absentmindedly rolled your eyes at his question. What did he care? How you’ve been no longer seemed to matter to him for over four months now, so what was so different about tonight? “I’m fine. What is it that you wanted to talk about? I’m kind of busy right now.”

You didn’t mean to come off so coldly, but you were just so frustrated with the entire situation and you were anticipating something negative to fall from his lips.

“Aw shit—I forgot. Tonight is your junior prom right? Damnit—if it’s any consolation baby, you look so fucking beautiful.”

You were confused at his compliment; when did he get a chance to see you? Since you weren’t all too excited for tonight, you didn’t really post anything—nor did you feel the need to send him any pictures. Maybe your mom sent him photos of you or something. Right as you were about to respond, there were two hands that lightly covered your eyes.

You knew exactly who it was without even having to guess; these were the hands you’ve held for more than half of your life. The same hands that would wipe away any tears that would fall from your eyelids. Mark. He spun you around and immediately placed a searing kiss upon your lips before you could even say or do anything.

“Hi baby, missed me?” Seeing him for the first time in almost five months should have been more thrilling, yet when you looked at him, you felt nothing. No butterflies, no sparks, no increasing of your heart rate—nothing. When you looked at him, you didn’t see the love of your life.

The boy in front of you held no familiarity at all. You wanted to react; you wanted to cry—to wrap your arms around him and kiss him all around his handsome face. You wanted to go in to detail about how much you’ve missed him and how these last five months without him were extremely difficult—but nothing came out. You could tell by his furrowed brows and the way he was biting his lip that he wasn’t expecting such an emotionless reaction from you.

“What are you doing here Mark?”

He frowned. Mark had a feeling he was being such an asshole towards you for the last few months. He knew the distance between the two of you was all his fault. It was killing him as much as it was with you. What you didn’t know, was that he took on a job in order to make some money for a trip back home—to see you. To say he was tired was an understatement.

If he wasn’t at school, he was at work. If he wasn’t at work, he was at practice and the only time he had to rest was right before bed. There was no excuse for not reaching out to you more often; honestly all he wanted to do was to call you and see what you were up to. That’s why all your calls were so short. He didn’t care what the two of you talked about or how long the conversation lasted, he just wanted to hear your voice. It was what kept him going.

No matter how hard college was for him, he knew he was going to get to see you again soon. If only he knew what his absence was going to do to your relationship; then he would’ve just asked his parents to pay for his flight home but it was a pride thing. Mark hated having to depend on people. He was independent from the day he could walk. Your reaction was the complete opposite of what he was expecting, but it wasn’t exactly unexpected.

“I wanted to surprise you. Listen, I can explain why I haven’t been so involved in our relationship these days and I’m really sorry y/n. I’ve been such a jerk and you really don’t deserve that but—“

“I think we need to take a break.”

You couldn’t even look at him; you were sure the two hours of makeup that the makeup artist work so hard on would get ruined if you were to see his reaction. It took you a long time to come to that decision; not once in your ten years of knowing him and loving him for would you have ever thought you would want to take a break from him. You never wanted to be away from Mark—ever. But he was never around anyway and waiting on him only interfered with what was going on in your life. It was also taking a huge toll on your mental health and you no longer wanted to give him that power anymore.

“Y/n, you don’t mean that. Baby you’re just mad and you have every right to be. But please, hear me out—“ You let out a scoff of disbelief.

“Hear you out? All I ever seem to do is hear you out Mark. Everything is always about you! Go check your messages. It’s always me—I’m always the one reaching out to you. I’m always the one initiating the calls, I’m the one staying up till the wee hours of the morning and going to school so exhausted just so I can talk to you. I—I can’t help but feel as though you fell out of love with me. Don’t get me wrong, your happiness, your health and your well-being is all I care about. But you don’t seem to give two shits about me or anything that goes on in my life Mark. I got a new job—I tried to tell you, but I never get any word in before you have to leave for school or for practice. I’m also on probation—my grades are shit right now and if I don’t get my act together, they’re going to hold me back an entire year and guess what Mark—it’s all your fault. I’m tired Mark. I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

“So that’s it? You’re going to give up all these years—these wonderful, amazing and unfathomably perfect years together because you’re being stubborn and refuse to hear me out? You’re giving up on us so easily y/n! You claimed that I fell out of love with you—you and I both know I am still so madly in love with you and I’m always going to be in love with you Damnit! What happened to all our plans huh? What happened to forever? You and I are soulmates y/n—did you forget that?”

“Of course I didn’t Mark—but don’t you dare play the victim in this. Our relationship is no longer what it used to be. I tried so hard—so fucking hard to get it back to what it used to be but each and every single one of my efforts went to shit because you obviously don’t think anything is wrong. I’m dying Mark. This relationship is going to be the death of me. I’m unhappy Mark. I haven’t been happy in such a long time. I’ve missed you so fucking much—“

“I’m here now baby. Fuck y/n I’m so fucking sorry baby. Please—please, please—let me fix this. I can fix this. I’m not letting you go this easy—fuck I’m never letting you go y/n. Get it through that thick head of yours. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

You hesitantly brought your hand up to cup his cheek and released a gentle breath of relief when you felt him lean in to your palm. You grazed his bottom lip with your thumb before leaving a chaste kiss against his lips. Your heart was begging you to hear him out—stupid heart. Such a stupid—stupid heart.

In his eyes, you could see the little boy who added an extra red piece in the slot when you weren’t looking so that you could win connect four against him. The same boy who gave you his shoes to wear as he walked with just socks on because he saw how much pain your heels caused you at his junior prom. There was not a doubt in your mind that Mark loved you even if you kept trying to convince yourself that he didn’t.

The love he had for you was still there. It just wasn’t as fierce or as strong as it used to be. You wanted to deepen the kiss; you loved kissing Mark. There was nothing you missed more than having his pretty lips meld perfectly with yours—but you knew if you were to kiss him, your entire speech about going on a break was going to be for nothing. You rested your head against his chest before placing a gentle kiss right below his jaw.

“I love you Mark. I truly believe I was made for loving you and I’m always going to love you. I have every intention to getting married to you, starting a family with you and spending the rest of my life with you. But right now, I think we need some time apart in order to find ourselves again. I lost myself loving you Mark—I gave you everything and you took it all without hesitance until there was nothing left. I need to learn to live without you Mark. I’m not giving up on us—I’m just doing what I feel is going to bring us back to each other again. You are my person Mark Tuan and I’m yours.”

The two of you stood there for what felt like hours. His grips were tight on your waist and you began to tear up as soon as his chest began to heave against yours. You knew he was crying and you weren’t actually expecting any kind of emotion out of him; you were still so shocked to hear him grow angry with your decision. When you looked up at him and saw his eyes were now bloodshot red and filled with tears; you were ultimately regretting your decision. You wiped a tears away with your fingers and pecked his nose lovingly.

“Don’t cry baby. In due time, we’ll be fine.”

You were selfish; you were the one pushing him away, yet you still wanted as much time with Mark as you possibly could get. You didn’t know just how long it would take for you to heal, so you wanted to cherish this moment while you still could. Unfortunately, your little reunion with Mark was interrupted and you had a bad feeling that things were right about to go downhill.

“Hey y/n, they’re going to start announcing the king and queen did you want to—oh—uh—hey man, you must be Mark. Nice to meet you.”

Mark’s grip on your waist tightened as his jaw clenched; yeah—this wasn’t going to end well. Mark was the definition of a jealous boyfriend. One time, he almost ended up twisting BamBam’s arm when the younger boy made a joke about how you were in the bedroom. He was extremely protective and territorial over you—but since he’s been absent, he had yet to hear about who this guy was that seemed to know who he was.

His eyes landed on Jaebeom’s tie and how it matched your dress perfectly. It only made him wonder—who exactly was this guy to you and why were you at the prom with him?

“Jaebeom, do you think you could go inside? I’ll be right there.”

He looked at your worried expression then noticed how both of Mark’s fists were balled at his sides. Jaebeom wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t all that bright when it came to his studies, but he could tell that you weren’t as happy as you played yourself off to be. Seeing how tense you and Mark both were, he couldn’t help but feel that your boyfriend was the reason.

As much as he wanted to call Mark out for making you cry so much these days, it wasn’t his place to do so. He was just your friend and if he wanted it to stay that way, he knew it was best to keep his mouth shut. You relaxed when you saw him nod in agreement before walking back inside of the ballroom.

“Mark, I think it’s time for me to head back—“

“Him. Is he the reason why you’re leaving me? Did you fall in love with him? Did you cheat on me y/n? Did you get lonely while I was away—working my fucking ass off at a job I hate in order to save enough money so I could come and see you?—“

“Mark, stop. You know it’s not like that—“

“Needed another dick to keep you satisfied while I was away? Is that what it is? What—did he say all these nice things about you to get you to fall for him? What is it y/n? What’s so good about him huh? What does he have that I’m lacking—“

“ENOUGH! Don’t you dare accuse me of cheating on you. You and I both know I would never EVER do such a fucking thing. My heart—this pathetic heart and what’s left of it, my mind, my spirit, my body—you own it all. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want anyone else but you for you to get it through your fucking head? Stop trying to play the victim Mark! You’re at fault here! Accept it! Jaebeom is just a friend—he was here for me when I had nobody. I had no friends—my siblings are all out of the house—my parents are gone all the time and my boyfriend only calls me when he wants to—when it’s convenient for him. Jaebeom is a genuine friend Mark. You should be happy that I had him to keep me sane. Instead of wondering who he is to me, you should be focused on what you are to me. Good night Mark.”

Jaebeom tried his best to cheer you up in any way possible, but he could tell by your body language alone that you just wanted to go home. He didn’t hear what happened after he left, but the curiosity was eating away at him. However, you already looked so distraught—he didn’t want to add on to it. You felt bad for Jaebeom—this was just as much his prom night as much as it was yours and now you ruined it for the both of you. What you could use was a three-month long nap. When Jaebeom dropped you home, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek before wiping a tear from your face that you didn’t even know fell.

“I don’t know what happened earlier and I don’t expect you to tell me. But just know I’ll be ready to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.”

You didn’t know what it is that you did to deserve such an amazing friend like Jaebeom—if someone were to put you through what you’ve been putting him through since the day you met him, you would’ve dropped that person completely. But here he was—so understanding—so willing to give up and sacrifice anything for your happiness. You made a mental note to make it up to him once you were mentally ready to do anything.

Your parents were shocked beyond words to see you coming back alone—they actually didn’t expect you to come home at all knowing that Mark was going to surprise you. They actually conspired with Mark to go and surprise you at the hotel because they’ve noticed how broken you’ve been for the last few months and they were hoping that seeing him again would get you in a better mood. Your mom was about to approach you, but it was evident that you just wanted to go to sleep.

Only three days in to your break with Mark did you realize you may have made a brief lapse of judgement. Sure, it was as if nothing has changed. You were already used to not hearing from him; but now that you knew the two of you currently were not a couple, it made things all the more difficult. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days and days felt like months. Waking up felt like a chore; you missed him like crazy.

Even if you only heard from him on his time, it was better than not hearing from him at all. Exactly one month after that heartbreaking night at your prom, you found yourself on a plane to New York. Once school was out for the summer, you found yourself at the grocery store almost every single day in order to make enough money to afford a round-trip plane ticket to see Mark with the hopes of mending your broken relationship. In this last month, you came to the realization that you were willing to have Mark in your life even if it was only once or twice a week; it was better than not having him at all.

“A105, A106, A107—A108. Here goes nothing.”

You were afraid that in the last month, Mark could have realized that maybe this break should be a permanent decision. He hasn’t tried to get in touch with you once since your prom night nor did he try to visit you once while he was still in California—but then again, you couldn’t blame him. He was giving you the space you asked for; now, you were hoping and praying he was going to open the door and welcome you with open arms. You knocked a few times and it felt as though you were about to throw up your heart. When you had yet to hear a response, you reached forward to knock again. When the door finally opened, the person behind it wasn’t who you were hoping it would be.

“Y/n?”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 #got7 mark

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littlemeowmeowschimmy · 5 years

Text

Best Friend [Seokjin x Reader]

credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // m.list

Wolf: Kook - Tae - Jimin - Joon - Hobi - Yoongs

Genre: Smut // werewolf au

Warnings: Impregnation kink, oral (f), rough sex, slightly choking, etc

Summary: Being away from your best friend for years suddenly sparks some sexual tension which both of you don’t have a problem releasing

WC: 3.7k

A/n: Oh how I’m upset that this is the last part. I will be rolling out part twos for any and all that were asked for. But I will take a break as I do need to update other stories as well too, so don’t expect them right away

»»————-　★　————-««

Being friends with a werewolf was difficult, as is. You knew how horny they would get depending on the time of the month, and depending on how high the moon was. You were never really interested in all that werewolf business, to begin with, considering that Seokjin usually talked about it whenever you hung out with him. With that being mentioned, it did interest you when you first found out.

The evening in which Seokjin happened to tell you he was a werewolf was when he was just about to leave for his apprenticeship. See, your best friend was a tattoo artist who valued learning new ideas and learning more about himself. Seokjin didn’t give a damn who thought his job was idiotic or that it made very little money, depending on the shop, because he enjoyed it.

Hell, you had a few of his rough tattoos on your body, and you weren’t ever going to get them covered. This particular night, Seokjin was tattooing a few words on your lower lip. You didn’t ask him what words he was writing, because he said it would be a secret. However, the words actually turned out to be initialed. Yours and his, right next to each other.

Seokjin said the meaning could be of anything that your heart desired, but you knew what he meant by it. It was when he struck up the conversation concerning him being a mythological creature. Once he set the gun down, Seokjin went to grab the alcohol and a paper towel. It was there that he cleared his throat to draw your attention to him.

Seokjin explained everything that he possibly could to you, pausing in between for you to ask anything your heart desired. Eventually, you two were just sitting there, staring at each other in silence. At first, you didn’t believe him, but as he went on explaining, you slowly began to understand how he acted. How he often seemed irritated when he would go into a horny like frenzy, or when Seokjin would excuse himself because he could feel himself changing. You were always curious as to why he never wanted to hang out two or more days out of the month, but you kind of just assumed he wanted to be alone.

Seokjin was thankful for how you approached everything and knew that you would stay with him forever. That is friend wise, but you also knew that someday you had to leave him. You wanted to travel the world and learn about different cultures and languages. Seokjin had a pack that not only did he have to attend to, but it also forced him to stay where he was.

That evening was the last time you ever saw Seokjin. He went off to do his apprenticeship, and you went off to accomplish your dreams. How you stayed in contact with each other was over text messages and video calls. Seokjin often shared his struggles with you and how much he missed being around you. You had known Seokjin since he was a child, and seeing him grow into a handsome, intelligent man was the best part about being his friend.

You did miss your friend dearly, and you wanted to see him. Something about being far away from his chaotic nature was difficult. It took months for you to save up enough money to eventually see him because you weren’t just traveling the world. You were making money as you did so, and your job wasn’t exactly what you called “legal.”

Somehow you got yourself caught up in the mafia business, and you were an arms dealer. You got to check off traveling the world, but you were doing so while running from the law in every country you seemed to find yourself in. Since you were close to the head of the mafia, she allowed you to do whatever you wanted. Even if that meant fucking her a few times and going out on romantic dates, you would do so. She was just somebody you wanted a fling with, and that’s how it was.

You were in Paris one evening with her, explaining how you needed to go back to Seoul. Mostly because you wanted to see your werewolf tattoo artist, but you couldn’t quite tell her that Seokjin was a supernatural being.

“And how long will you be gone?” Antia questions swirling the cherry in her alcoholic drink. Her big chocolate eyes were downcasted as she wasn’t holding your attention any longer.

“I’m not quite sure,” you responded, pushing the bowl of noodles away from you. “You know how long I’ve been gone, Antia,” you answered, reaching out to grasp her hand gently.

Antia's eyes flicker for a few moments as she looks back and forth from her drink to your fingers. Antia wanted more than to be someone you fucked every once and awhile. She was head over heels for you, and letting you out of her sight was hard enough. Now she had to think about letting you go for who knows how long?

Antia gives a long sigh before pushing your hand aside. She tucks her arms under her breasts and taps her long fingers against her arms. She went silent again, contemplating if she should make up an excuse or a lie to keep you here. Then, when she turned to look into your eyes, Antia’s breath caught in her throat.

The way the moonlit up your face and eyes was enough to make her smile. She simply didn’t say anything else, only nodding her head and agreeing. “As long as you do me a favor while you’re in Seoul,” she answers.

You cocked an eyebrow in her direction, confused as to what she was going to ask you for. Then, her expression shifted, and you knew it was something horrible.

»»————-　★　————-««

It had been years since Seokjin saw you in person. In the past couple of months, you could only talk to him over the phone, so he didn’t know what part of your appearance had changed. He kept thinking about you over and over again, especially considering his pack was starting to get mates.

The way his heart clenched and ached every time he saw them together. He realized how lonely his world must’ve been, considering that he wanted to spend his time in the studio. Seeing client after client, working endless hours, just to numb the pain he felt when you left.

Seokjin was in love with you, and he knew it. He knew that you were going to be his mate, just trying to rely on the feelings and message across would be difficult. He had no idea if you had fallen in love with someone else, nor did he know if you loved him back at all. Trying to contain all of these feelings was hard enough, and watching you enjoy yourself without him tore Seokjin apart.

One evening, Seokjin was closing the shop up because he sent Hoseok home. He wanted to close early because he knew Jungkook would be strolling in with his friend and ask for a discount. As much as he hated breaking the rules, he couldn’t help but admit that Seokjin broke some of them because of how spoiled Jungkook was.

So, he closed up and told Jungkook to not come over. Simply because he didn’t want to tattoo another teenager who thought getting a tattoo would make them popular. As Seokjin was counting the tips, he heard a noise from the other end of the studio. His head snapped up, and his eyes glowed a bright amber. He could feel his canines start to poke as he went into a full alpha mode.

“Whoever is out there,” he calls. “I would advise you to turn around and leave. You’ll regret it if you try and steal from me.” his voice deepening as he set the money down and slowly moved around the counter. Another noise came from the right, and he couldn’t quite tell what it was.

If someone was trying to steal his damn safe again, Seokjin would have to murder them. But then where would he hide the body? Maybe he could hide it in the mansion that nobody uses, which was gifted from Seokjin’s parents. He often maintained it but decided that it was too big for him to live in. Seokjin shook his head as he crept towards the noise.

A low growl was starting to build in his throat, the closer he got. He could feel his blood begin to pound in his ears as he made his way closer to whoever dared step foot into his parlor. Just when Seokjin was about to pounce, he got an elbow to the face.

That growl he felt immediately came out while he felt blood trickle out and down his nose. Seokjin’s senses heightened, and he quickly spun away from whatever attack came next. He got the upper hand and shoved the body against the wall, his fingers locked around their throat. Squeezing hard and growling until -

“Who the fuck - Seokjin?!” You gasped hands wracking at his palm, hoping that he would let go. Instantly, your scent hit Seokjin’s nose, and his demeanor changed. He blinked a couple of times before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

Completely dismissing the fact that you broke into his parlor, but you would eventually tell him why. Seokjin buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close to him as he spun in a circle.

“Oh my god,” he purrs, setting you down gently. “Welcome home.” You had to gather yourself before pushing gently on his shoulder. What Seokjin didn’t know was that Antia asked you to come to his parlor. She wanted you to steal a weapon Seokjin had hidden and killed off the owner. You didn’t think much of it, considering you didn’t know his parlor’s name.

So you took the favor and said you would do so. Since you were standing by him, Anita's support was starting to burn at the edge of your mind. You placed your hands on your hips and gave a great big smile. Trying to dismiss the fact that you elbowed your best friend in the nose, and the favor you had restored to killing him.

“Where you going home?” You questioned, taking a step back from him. There was something off about Seokjin, and that familiar scene in your stomach told you why. Not only did this unannounced homecoming shake things up, but it also accelerated the frenzy he had for you. The color of his eyes is what threw you off for the most part.

They were a rich amber-gold, meaning he was closer to his original color than you would have liked them to be. Even when he smiled, you saw his canines poking through in their full glory. Standing in front of you, you weren’t afraid, but you were a little weary. Yes, you had always found Seokjin attractive, and you did have a crush on him.

So it wasn’t the matter of if you had sex with him or not, it was the matter of him marking you. You weren’t ready to be tied down to a relationship, you wanted something more. You wanted to explore yourself and not be tied down to anything other than your own being.

“Yeah, I was getting ready to close shop.” Seokjin mumbles taking a step back and then heading back to what he was doing. You stayed standing there for a few seconds before heading right where he left off to. Your hands were stuffed in your windbreaker since you didn’t want to dress super light. It was getting colder in Seoul, meaning it was going to snow soon.

You only gave him a similar sound hum as you rounded his counter. You pushed a chair up and swung a leg around it. Seokjin pauses as he watches you, his wolf clawing at the back of his mind. The way your scent hit him was insane as he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside you. The rational human side of him was saying that he should take you out on a dinner, catch up with you.

But the wolf side was clawing at him and screaming for him to do something. To make you his and only his as he could smell that you had been with another wolf. Anita never explained that she was a half breed, and she would never tell you. She only suspected that Seokjin was an alpha due to the scent he left on you the morning after you finally agreed to travel with Antia. Two alpha’s secretly battling for your heart, and you were unaware of each.

“Ah, so then you don’t mind me staying here?” You finally asked, looking at your nails and then locking eye contact with Seokjin. He hadn’t picked up the money; instead he was watching you.

Dark and intense were his eyes now since he was holding himself back. When you asked him, he blinked a couple of times before finally shrugging his shoulders. But that didn’t stop him from staring at you. Instead, he picked up his tips and then placed them in the bag, not even finishing counting them.

“If you stay here,” he says, his mouth moving before his brain could even process what he was doing. “It’ll be hard for my wolf to concentrate as he wants nothing more than to see your belly swollen with my pups.” At first, you had no idea what the hell he was saying. Second, when you did, you flushed a bright red as your head slightly turned to the side.

You knew Seokjin to be innocent and well mannered, hearing something like this come from his mouth was a huge surprise. Seokjin noticed the shift in your emotions, and he couldn’t help but grin. Seeing you get so submissive in front of him was such a joy to his eyes. He wanted to be smug and say something else, but he didn’t want to push you too far away.

His confidence was through the roof, and you had to admit that you were attracted to it. Especially since he hadn’t been this confident before, and confidence was a breaking point for you. You bit your lower lip, still not locking eye contact with him while you sat there and thought about it. Then, you turned back to face him, puffing your cheeks out. Getting some kind of ground back for him, throwing you a curveball.

“How bad does your wolf want it?”

“Really bad.” He instantly responds, his fingers clawing at the counter. You slowly made your way up, shifting the chair around, and then sitting in front of him. Just like Seokjin, your body was acting on its own accord. Your brain was processing what it was doing, but not fast enough for you. In the process, you shrugged your windbreaker off to reveal your tanktop underneath.

It was simple, with a few graphics depicted in the front. You wore tights underneath and black combat boots. Spreading your legs, you leaned forwards on your hands, showcasing your breasts to your friend. “Bad enough that you would do anything for me?” you questioned, knowing that a small form of guilt churned in your heart.

“Anything.” he breaths standing as still as can be, awaiting your answer. You turned to look out the window, seeing as it was dark enough, and then turned back to give him attention. When you locked eye contact, you felt the breath left your lips. Seokjin pushed himself up over the counter and stood in front of you. He then bends down, so he was eye level as a sly smile spreads.

“Kiss me,” you whisper leaning in, then waiting for him to close the gap. He does so, locking you into a kiss that was long awaiting. His lips were soft to the touch, but his kiss was nothing but. His hands went straight for your hips, pulling you up out of the chair and standing with him. In doing so, he breaks for a split second, only to capture you once more.

Seokjin twists you around to push you against the counter, setting you down on the still-warm glass. His hands were attacking your muscles, pulling and modeling them in his grasp. His lips now your skin since he was more concern about drinking you like alcohol. Why were you so okay with this? Why was this happening? You two were just friends, and now, that friendship would be something more from now on.

But you couldn’t stop yourself. You grasped onto his black hair, pulling at it when he suckles at the crook of your neck. His lips finding the right area to make you groan while pushing your neck into him. Seokjin’s slim fingers drum themselves against your inner thighs, sending sparks across your nervous system.

“How do you want me?” You pondering noting that Seokjin nipped at your skin, but not enough to mark you.

He was silent at first, focusing on whatever surface he could cover. His fingers seemed to knead at your muscle in thought. With his teeth, Seokjin pulls down your tanktop, ripping it just a tad, then buries his face in your breast. Still not answering your question, Seokjin bites and sucks along your skin. Leaving as many love marks as he possibly could.

If he was going to let you go back to Anita, you were going again marked. Your body would be bruised and covered with Seokjin’s canines everywhere. When he pulled away, Seokjin looks at you with a narrowing gaze. He doesn’t say anything, instead gently lies you down on the counter, and spreads your legs.

“I’m going to warm you up,” he finally says, tearing into your leggings. “Then, I’m going to fuck you as hard and as long as I damn well want to.” pulls at the fabric on your underwear and attacks. He starts with your throbbing clit. Pressing his wet muscle against it and licking you endlessly

Seokjin doesn’t care that your essence begins to build on his lower lip and chin. He takes you in like he never has drunk water in his life. You push your hips into his mouth, never wanting the heat from his lips to leave your throbbing cunt. The pads of your fingers scraping at the top of his head as he tried to control yourself. Your thighs were burning with the position he held you in, but Seokjin didn’t give a damn.

He doesn’t let you cum because he was too damn impatient with you. He pulls back his face and turns you around. That was after getting your body off his counter and bending you over. He spreads your cheeks and buries his face in between. Eating you from behind for a split second before pulling down his pants.

“Wait....no lube?” You question looking over your shoulder. That was a mistake because the look you held with him was more than just sensual. You licked your lips as you felt the drool start to trickle down your mouth. Seokjin’s plump lips covered in your arousal as some of it was smeared across his chin. His eyes were dark, and so was his expression.

“No baby,” he whispers, spreading your legs and arching your back. “I like it raw,” he purrs, rubbing his tip against your entrance then pushes himself in. You cry, feeling his girth stretch your walls. You claw at his counter, trying to reach out and grab something.

Seokjin doesn’t want for you, no. He uses his lower back muscles and plants his feet on the ground as his thrusts were quicked pace. The force of his strength was enough to make you bounce against the counter.

“F-Fuck Seokjin!” You cry, feeling one hand sneak its way up to the collum of your throat and squeeze. He held your hips with the other, pulling your head back just a tad as his fingers wrapped perfectly around your neck.

“God damn it Y/n,” he growls, snapping his hips in particularly rough at your name. “You feel so good around my cock,” he grunts, removing your neck from his grasp to wrap around your waist. He pulls you both down onto the disregarded chair.

There he smacks your ass, silently demanding you move. Your head was starting to feel fuzzy, but you did as he asks. He helps you out by pushing your hips while occasionally moving his own. In doing so, you tilt your body back into his, your neck out for him.

Seokjin eyes your flesh carefully, noting that you hadn’t been marked yet. He licks his upper lip in thought as he still fucks you. His sneaky fingers finding their way back in between your folds and rubbing your clit again. Due to his earlier actions, you felt the knot start to form in your stomach. Seokjin could tell just by how your pussy clenched around his dick the closer you seemed to get.

Since he was sexually frustrated, Seokjin knew he would cum soon. So he put you back in the position you first were in. Only this time, your body was against his, and your legs were spread. You held onto the front of the counter while Seokjin uses all strength he had to continued to fuck you from behind.

“Jin let me cum,” you mewled, noting that he wasn’t touching your clit. Seokjin chuckles at the use of his nickname, finding it amusing. You pushed back into his thrusts, not wanting to feel empty ever again. Seokjin pushes back the hair from your neck to plant open kisses all across the collum. He distracts you from them by touching your throbbing clit again.

In a few strokes, you were his. Cumming all over his cock and spasming in his hold. You squeezed your eyes shut and then cried when you felt a sharp pain at the base of your neck. At first, your brain didn’t process it because, at the same time, Seokjin’s seed shoots deep inside your womb.

It was only when the distraction of his end started to melt away did you realize what he had done. Seokjin had claimed you, made you....his. Panic rose in your chest since you still had that favor to finish for Anita.

From a thousand miles away, Anita felt like her heart would burst. She had felt this pain before, and it only meant one thing. She would have to kill Seokjin for marking you.

#littlemeowmeowschimmy #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #bangtan #bts #reader insert #bts x reader #kim seokjin #werewolf au #smut #bts smut #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader

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80s-roger · 4 years

Text

Not On My Watch (pt 6)

Pairing: Dad!Roger x Mum!Reader (mid 80s)

summary: you’re divorced with queen’s roger taylor due to constant cheating and irrational behaviour towards you. but u have one person in common: your daughter, Laura aka your favourite human on earth. Your marriage with roger had its ups and downs but laura was the happiness in it. Now that she’s 8 and starts to realise how your terms with roger are, you finally tell her that you’re seeing another man except her father and she took it really warmly. She seemed excited to meet the new man unlikely your ex husband who accidentally learns about it by Laura, the weekend you would leave her at his place: on weekends you had some cute getaways with R/N because the court decided that Laura could stay or visit her dad on weekends and stay with him for five days each Christmas and easter vacations. On summers he has the right to be with her for two weeks.

taglist: @madeinheavxn @namelesslosers @stacymaytaylor @adqreu @cherries-n-rocknroll

catch up: part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

masterlist // dialogue prompts

note: this is the filthiest part of the entire series. also, sorry for waiting so long: I tried to think of a good smut scene, i feel like i ran out of ideas but thank you for your feedback!

words: 2,835

warnings: (18+!!!) surface smut, hardcore, penetrating, protected sex, oral, doggy (not anal), squirting, dom!rog - sub!reader, fluff

"Cheers to that." he laughed and took a sip of his red wine.

"Roger, we drank an entire bottle." You laughed back and placed your glass at the coffee table.

"We used to drink more. This is nothing compared to the old times." You were living the seventies the last past hour while being accompanied by a French red rose he recently bought during his most recent tour. You can tell you were both drunk. The dialogue was getting more and more personal.

"Yes, I remember that." You giggled, trying to recall all these times you couldn't stand up due to too much alcohol. "Most of these occurred at Freddie's parties."

"Remember when we went upstairs for a quick shag and we got caught by Freddie?" He hooted and blushed thinking of it but you gotta admit it was the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you both.

"Ah don't remind me!" You laughed. "He was like mind joining you? " you mimicked Freddie's voice and Roger extolled at your impression.

"Ah, I have to admit that shit got me jealous, I wouldn't share you with nobody." He admitted, setting free his dominant character. His glass was now placed at the table and his body placed closer to yours. "Neither at the same time nor when we are apart." His hand was placed at your knee, gently rubbing it and slightly going a little closer to your core. "By the way," he started. You were taken aback at the moment, feeling him take control was all you wanted by him. You liked feeling horny in front of him. He didn't have to try hard. "How was sex without me?" He whispered seductively at your ear.

At his words, you bit your lip. Butterflies were flying like crazy in your stomach. You wanted to be so honest at the moment. You turned your gaze at his baby blues, while his hands softly rubbed your thong trying to reach your area, "Boring." You sighed. You had to admit, Roger was indeed a good lay, there wouldn't be a time where you wouldn't come before him or generally come.

"Boring?" He asked amused and you nodded. "Well, you have to remember some things." He winked. "Follow me." He stood up, took your hand and lead you upstairs.

"Um, Rog-" you kinda stopped walking the stairs.

"Yeah?" He asked confused.

"I know we're shitfaced but don't forget precautions." You reminded him because most of the times, he would find excuses to avoid using condoms, which you never agreed with. That's why you always carried them when you were together.

"Oh- sure." He seemed kinda defeated. Maybe he tried to not use again.

You walked to the bedroom, there was barely any lighting to the room, but the slightly opened curtains let the moon, shine your faces.

"Did I have to be this drunk to tell you that I want to fuck you like a sex-deprived man right now?" He rhetorically asked and you couldn't admit the fact you felt the same way.

"Fuck me then." You admitted and bit your lip, driving him crazy.

"Oh no, you didn't have to do that, did you?" He provoked you to wrap your legs around his waist when he pressed you against his cabinet which was right in front of his window. This night was promising. "You missed me being dominant? Hm?" He asked again and pressed his lips on yours with no warning. He was so passionate and thirsty about it. You let out a moan, trying to push him away to breath.

"Oh dear God." You exhaled.

"That's it, my love, he's going to hear you calling him many times tonight." He aggressively turned you around, to face the window while your body was standing at the cabinet. Your butt wouldn't stop pressing against his bulge. Roger felt the tension in that area and grabbed your jaw with his palm to bring his mouth closer to your ear. "I wanna fuck you right against the glass so anyone can see how good you take it." He stated.

"Yeah, I better give them some taste of how good I take your cock." You fought back, provoking him for more intensity.

"I'm gonna take this shirt off you, I want to see your tits bouncing, I don't fucking care." He turned you around and ripped that shirt off you. He made you sit at the cabinet, with your naked back against the window. Alcohol was acting way upon your sober selves. Sex was about to be passionate and intimidating.

Meanwhile, you took off his shirt and unzipped his jeans, leaving him to do the rest. He took off his underwear, revealing his hard cock, ready to fill you up entirely. You tried to take your thong off, but he stopped you, "No, on this round, I want to fuck you while wearing that." His hands placed your thighs and his face came closer to your wet area, giving it a fast lick. "Fuck, you're soaking wet." He looked at you surprised.

"Do what you have to do Roger, please stop playing around." You begged. You needed his cock.

"So needy for me? I like it." He smirked and came to your face for a kiss.

His face returned to your pussy, licking it and fucking it with two of his fingers. Your backside was already getting the freeze from outside but Roger tried to warm you up entirely. "God-" you moaned.

"That's it baby, you taste so nice." He moaned between his actions.

"Roger, I don't want to cum yet!" You closed your eyes and twirled your toes, denying your climax.

"You can have another orgasm again, I know you can do it." His mouth was sucking your area like he was starving, he wouldn't leave that area unbothered, that's for sure. Your hand was pressing his head closer to your clit, practically begging for more sucking. "That's enough for now." he came at your face again, kissing you passionately and then, his tongue entered your mouth giving you a taste of what was like down there. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you forget that guy's name." he obviously mentioned the guy you were seeing and at the end didn't act like a man.

"Don't be gentle." You vouched between your heavy breathings and Roger helped you spread your one leg a little wider. His hand grabbed the thong's string and pulled it at your inner thigh to get inside you. And now his hard cock was in you, feeling you up entirely. "Ah- God!" You loudly moaned at his fast and hard thrusts that made you lose balance.

"I'd hold onto something, If I were you." He stated with a crooked smile on his face and his one hand grabbed your thigh, squeezing it while the other held your thong. At his statement, you hold the cabinet's edges and it seemed helpful. You were intensely looking whether his cock thrusting inside you or his eyes which looked at the same directions as you. "Fucking hell, you're so hot." He moaned behind his teeth. "So tight for me." he closed his eyes and his head tilted back. "You like being fucked against the window, don't you?" He asked and kissed you.

"Yeah-" you shouted because of his thrusts and the cold you felt at your back. You weren't thinking about the neighbours' seeing you getting fucked; instead, you were focused on Roger's dick. You enjoyed every second of it.

"But you won't cum yet, right?" He wasn't inside you anymore and that void between your thighs now made you whimper. "What? I'll fuck you on the bed too, what did you think?" He playfully asked and pulled you up in his lap, trying to lay you on bed.

"Oh God, Roger, you're gonna do what you had said earlier?" You rolled your eyes because you remember him saying that he owes you an orgasm delay, a wall fucking- which took place at his cabinet, against the window and a good fuck; on four.

"Of course love, I keep my words." He bit his lip and grabbed a condom from his nightstand, preparing himself for the second round. He was standing next to the bed and his hard cock was coming closer to you. "Help me put on the condom. I want to feel your hands over me." He seductively whispered and helped him do what he said. Touching his dick was something he loved about you. You were teasing him and did so many things with it.

"Now what?" You bit your lip and smiled at him.

"This cock isn't gonna suck itself so you better start." He demanded and let you do what it pleases him the most. You laid on his bed, with your head at the place he was standing.

Your hand grabbed his dick, jerking him off, up and down until your tongue sucked his balls, "Christ, fuck!" He moaned at your move and kept doing it until you wanted to actually suck his penis. Your mouth could take him all and you couldn't get enough of it. His hands pressed your face against his cock, at the terms of choking you. You gagged at the lack of oxygen and stopped for a second to smile at him. "You take it so well baby." He encouraged you to keep doing it, with fast moves, until you could feed his thighs trembling. "Yeah, that's enough... I don't wanna cum yet. Not until you're on four." He placed his knees on bed and leaned down to kiss you deeply.

"You're so impatient for it, your mistresses never satisfied you on that?" You laughed and took off your thong staying finally naked.

"They're not you. Now turn over and get on all fours." He started. "Remember, be loud. Give me those moanings I love to hear." He kissed your back before assuming his position.

You stabilized yourself at bed's top, where he used to tie you from time to time. His dick was slowly getting inside your vagina again, trying to make it less painful because that position was always hard for you. You had to take his entire size inside you so you need more time to settle. "Ah, fuck, Roger!" You shouted over the pillows after feeling his dick moving in and out you.

"You're taking it so good babe..." he moaned as his hands grabbed your thighs and pulled them closer to him, trying to lock any distance between your bodies.

Roger having the entire control behind you, made you feel protected; he liked being dominant in bed, liked being the one in control but that never meant he wouldn't listen to your needs or take care of you after sex. You trusted him on that and you definitely liked being sub.

"Moan my name loudly, I want the neighbours to know it was me." He moaned within his thrusts that wouldn't let you breathe normally.

"Fuck, Roger!" You shouted at the slap he gave you combined with your hand that travelled down there to rub your clit.

"You like getting spanked, hm?" He nervously asked, waiting for your loud answer. He knew it was one of your kinks, he would definitely get advantage of that.

"Christ, Roger, yes I do!" You chanted, with your voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

His hand took yours off your clit, doing the work for you. He wouldn't stop thrusting inside you until he came. He wanted it to be intense and sweaty and he succeeded, for both of you.

"My name sounds so good when you moan it." He said between his heavy breathes and laid on top of you with his dick still inside you. "But I can't see that pretty mouth of yours doing it, so I'll stick with your ass. I like the view." He implied.

"You have to go a little harder if you want your neighbours to hear me." You provoked him to go faster than earlier. You wanted to feel your walls tighten. You didn't have to lie about him but giving you enough pleasure. It was part of the game.

"Oh, you shouldn't have said that." His dick was taken out of you and aggressively turned you around. Now your front side was his view and he looked excited about it.

"Haven't cummed yet right?" He asked and placed his lips on yours. You nodded when his hand grabbed yours on top of bed. "Well, as good as it feels, you will have to try to keep yourself together for my final thrusts. Deal?" He asked and wanked his dick for a few seconds before thrusting inside you again.

"Deal." You answered and prepared yourself for the hard part. Have his entire length inside you. It was a hard task for you, uneasy to hold yourself together.

"Oh, and say the safe word if it gets too far." He added, reminding both of you that you have limits. "Red, isn't it?" He asked.

"Yes." You smiled and arched your back to kiss him.

His pelvis was moving like it had no bones, his thrusts would end you soon enough and you didn't want that. You didn't want any leg paralysis or Roger wouldn't give you his aftercare nor his own climax.

"Remember to be loud." He reminded but how could you forget? You weren't loud at your sober moments. But when you were drunk, it was out of control.

"Rog- Oh God!" Your moan was loud this time, at his attempt to thrust his entire size inside you. That was definitely easy-to-hear.

"That's my girl, you take my cock so nice." He encouraged you and couldn't stop staring at your tits, bouncing up and down. "Who's in charge?" He asked trying to feel assured that he is dominant.

"You are." You said and his hands, led you behind his back, setting you free from his restriction of not letting you touch your clit.

"And who's in charge?" he asked again with his legs almost trembling, making it visible now that he's almost ready to come.

"You are- fuck!" You, being so loud gave him pure satisfaction. He liked feeling dominant, being your orgasm provider. "God, Roger, I'm coming."

"That's it baby, cum for me, moan my name as you tighten around me." He moaned back and locked your legs around his waist, with no void between you. You felt your legs shaking when your climax approached and that energy passed through Roger's body. He was too close on coming with you.

"Ah fuck Roger!" you arched your back while Roger was rubbing your clit, to let you cum. He was so focused on that, his eyes wouldn't stop looking at you becoming a mess beneath him.

"Come on, love, do it. For me." He teased your pussy to finally let you squirt. At that second he took his dick out of your area until you squirted, with the liquids landing at the sheets, on his lower stomach and his penis. "That's my girl." He rewarded you with a kiss and let your hands give him a handjob.

"Roger, that was amazing." You said between your breaths and he finally laid next to you.

"God, agree... It's been ages since I felt so ecstatic." he looked at you and there was silence. You waited for each other to gain some stamina. It was only ten minutes after that and he went to the bathroom to clean himself. "How are you feeling?" He asked when he entered the bedroom again.

"Maybe tired... I don't know how productive will I be at work tomorrow." You laughed.

"At least you're gonna be hella hot, have you seen yourself on sex?" He boosted your confidence.

"Ah stop it." You joked. "I'll go clean myself." You stood up from his bed and walked past him. You gained a gentle slap on your butt and...

"I prepared you a babble bath, I think you need it. I'll change the sheets as long as you're bathing," he told and you nodded fully excited about your after-care routine. He always liked to be the guy who's in charge when it comes to after-care. He liked making you feel you're under his wing.

At your bath time, it was all so calm and satisfying. Nothing could ruin your moment. You were at Roger's home, at his bath. He had probably laid on the bed waiting for you, so you didn't lose any more time. You just grabbed the towel he left for you and walked through his bedroom.

"Rog have you seen the-" You stopped after seeing him snoring at his bedside. "Ah.." you awed.

You got dressed again, wearing his shirt and clean underwear and finally laying for a nice and comfy sleep. You heard exhaling when you found your comfortable side and by then, his hands wrapped your waist, not letting you go.

The next day would be hard for both of you. You didn't know what was coming.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x fem reader #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x female reader #roger taylor x Y/N #roger taylor x oc #queen #queen band #freddie mercury #john deacon #brian may

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noonaduck · 5 years

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Fangs pt.1

Pairing: little bit Jimin x reader, but main pairing will be Hoseok x reader, brother Yoongi Words: 2494 Genre: Vampire AU, Supernatural AU. Smut, Angst, Fluff(?) Summary: Vampire population was getting smaller with passing time and presence of hunters was turning to even bigger threat than it has ever been for your kind. One fateful night you expose your nature for a hunter by mistake and a cat and a mouse game begins. What you weren’t excepting was your growing feelings towards your predator. Are you prisoners of your natures or are you able to break free and find love?

A/N: I wasn’t able to stop myself from writing when idea about this AU came to me. I’m still going to continue writing my other works as well.

1. > 2.

[Gifs belongs to their rightful owners]

You were spread on living room couches with your brother Yoongi and friend Jin. The room was covered with spider webs and you could see the dust dancing in the air. The house where you had taken refugee was a old cottage in middle of woods. Sun was risen earlier that you had thought and interrupted your hunt. It was quite risky to hunt for a prey when there was only few of your kind and so many hunters. What was your prey? Humans of course, and more specifically their blood. There was one rule that you three followed, never take enough blood to kill your victim. It had taken some centuries for you to be able to pull your fangs on time and you haven't been able to avoid few lost lives along the way. Now as a older vampires you were capable to stop on time, well at least most of the time. One thing that made hunters truly dangerous was that they couldn't be charmed. Charming was vampires ability, which helped you to erase your victims memory. If hunter was able to figure your identity all was lost. There was no other choice than keep moving, because usually vampires were so outnumbered compared to their kind. That was the main reason for your vagrant lifestyle, usually vampires lived in nests like they liked to call their hideouts. One fatal mistake from your side has forced you to leave your home and you had to keep moving forward. Both Yoongi's and Jin's clothes were wrinkled and yours weren't in that good shape either. Yoongi's black hair was messy and his jacket had teared from its hem. Jin's chocolate brown hair was still flawless despite his clothes condition. You had ear length H/C which was messy as your older brother's. ''I can't take this anymore. Next time we have to find place to shower and change clothes instead of a old cabin without running water or electricity.'' Jin complains and stand's up from his seat. He starts to space around in the small room. ''I agree.'' Yoongi grumbles. ''I would be happy even with a decent meal.'' You mumble quietly. You haven't fed in few nights and hunger was getting toll of you. ''well, its your fault that we had to leave our home behind.'' Jin says annoyed. You sift in your seat and Yoongi glares older man angrily. ''It's not her fault.'' He answers angrily and his dark eyes flashes red. ''I know, I'm sorry Y/N. I'm just hungry as you are.'' Jin apologizes. His stops his spacing in front of small window and peers out trough ripped curtains. The sun hurts his eyes and he blinks rapidly. You can see hunger clearly from his features and quilt eats your insides. Jin's skin is even paler than usually and you can see clearly his veins under his skin. His usually deep brown eyes are now closer to red than actual brown. Usually Jin is the most calm and rational of you three, but hunger can make even the most restrained vampire into irrational beast. Yoongi doesn't look so good either, his features mirroring Jin's. Yoongi is pale even among the vampires, but when he hasn't fed he seems more like a ghost than one of his kinds. Your skin feels tight and your fangs throbs from lack of human blood. Vampires are able to drink each other's blood but its useful as drinking a soda for humans. You get pleasure from it, but it wont calm your thirst like a water does for humans and a blood for vampires. Jin turns back towards the couches but stays still, now you are able to see more than his side profile. ''It's okay, I understand.'' You accept his words. ''No it's not. I was too harsh.'' Jin says and in one blink he is hugging you. Jin feels quilt in smallest things if he believe that he has hurt his friends. You answer for his hug and just for a while you keep hugging each other searching for comfort. When you finally part Jin sits next to you and you put your head on his shoulder. Your mind starts to wander to back that day when you had done your mistake which had leaded into your current situation.

*** You were on the hunt looking for your next meal. The club was full of people who either were drinking their worries away or dancing along the music. You were wearing tight black dress that kissed your curves and ended right above your knees. You had loose curls on your hair and you had painted your lips deep red. Your E/C eyes had smoky black lining . Despite Yoongi's and Jin's pleas you had left alone. Sometimes girl needed her own time. You were hanging by the bar and measuring the mass of people for your next prey. You had gone trough few people with your eyes until you finally saw someone who gained your interest. The man was sitting on nearby booth with his group of friends. He had bubblegum pink hair and beautiful face with chubby cheeks that you wanted to squeeze. He was wearing button up shirt with vertical blue stripes and black leather pants with zippers on both sides. When he laughed for something that his friend had said his eyes turned into half moons. You kept observing the table and tried to figure out which of mouth watering scents was his. ''Jimin, some one is staring at you.'' A Guy with dark brown hair nuzzled his friends shoulder. The brunet is wearing white t-shirt with ripped jeans. His muscles are clearly on sight for anyone to see. You can hear his words, you had accurate vampire hearing after all. The Jimin guy turned his head towards the direction where his friend was nudging and his eyes met yours. You flashed him a beautiful smile. ''Wow, she is hot.'' Another of his friends with blonde hair agreed. He was wearing dark blue suit jacket with black shirt under it. His legs were covered in grey denim. ''Go ahead and talk to her.'' He egged his friend. ''Tae, I think she is too good looking for me.'' Jimin said and you wanted to roll your eyes for his thoughts, but you suppress your urges. You stood up from your chair and walk towards their table while swaying your hips. ''Hi.'' You say and smile sweetly for the male, who's name you learned was Jimin. ''Hi.'' Jimin stuttered and you felt urge to smirk for his cute awkwardness. ''Hello, Im Taehyung. Would you like to join us?'' Blonde asked and flashed toothy smile. ''I would love to.'' You agreed and the boys made space in the booth so you were able to sit next to Jimin. ''I'm Jungkook.'' The brunet peeped in. You smiled kindly at him. As good looking Jimin's friends were you are more interested in your bubblegum boy. Jimin's scent was mix of vanilla and peaches. You couldn't wait to sink your teeth into his neck. ''I'm Y/N.'' You introduced yourself. ''So what pretty woman like you does here alone?'' Taehyung asked, he surely seems to be on lead or at least the most confident here. ''You know, sometimes a girl need her time alone away from her family.'' You said and shrugged. ''Would you like to have anything to drink?'' Jimin blurred when he sees your empty hands. All three of men were already drinking something and their glasses were already over the half way empty. ''No thanks, I prefer quite different drink than this place has offer.'' You put your hand on his shoulder and leaned closer. ''Perhaps you can help me with my thirst later.'' You whispered huskily to his ear. Jimin's neck hair stood up when your lips touched his ear lope. His face turned instantly red and his friends smirked on his misery. ''Sorry that I'm late. I wasn't able to leave my work as early as I hoped.'' A new man said while slipping in the booth. The newcomer has tall lean figure with well formed muscles. His hair was colored like honey and his nose was tall and straight. He also had sharp cheekbones and little bit crooked dark brown eyes which fitted his features. He was maybe even more good looking than your target, but you had made your choice for the night. Top of his head was a white cap and silver earring tangled from his left ear. He was wearing red long sleeved shirt with v- neckline and pants which was ripped from his knees. ''Hoseok, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Hoseok.'' Jimin hurried to introduce you. ''Its nice to meet you Y/N.'' Hoseok said and by your surprise offered his hand. You gave him yours and that was your first mistake of the night. ''Likewise.'' You agreed. Hoseok froze for a moment, but then lets go quickly of your hand. ''Your hand seemed to be little bit cold, are you okay?'' He asked and tilted his head with wonder. ''Ah, I have usually really cold hands.'' You told awkwardly. The fact that you weren't quite alive might explain the cold skin. ''I see.'' Hoseok mumbled to himself. ''Well Y/N, What do you do for a living? Are you perhaps a student or do you have a job?'' Jungkook tried to break the awkward mood. ''I'm part of my family business. My brother runs a medical company that supplies hospitals with blood and medical supplies.'' You told. Lies or maybe not entirely, you were indeed interacting with blood. ''Sounds interesting. I work as a photographer and Tae is a painter.'' Jungkook told. ''Jimin here is a dancer. You should see his moves sometime.'' He grinned and winked at you. You let small giggle and Jimin sifted awkwardly on his seat. ''I would love to. Hoseok was it? What do you do for a living?'' You asked and turned your curious eyes towards him. ''Nothing interesting, just some office work.'' He shrugged. You kept chatting with the guys about everything and nothing. They all seemed easy to get along. All except Hoseok who was lost on his own thoughts. He excused himself and headed to the bar. You have been teasing Jimin for all night. Sometimes you leaned closer to him showing more from your cleavage than necessary and sometimes your fingers kept sliding along his thighs. His friends were oblivious to your ministrations, but Jimin's heart kept beating faster and faint scent of arousal, that only a person with sensitive nose could smell, was leaping in the air. Taehyung and Jungkook were getting tipsy and bickered over meaningless stuff. Jimin wasn't exactly sober either. ''Do you want to dance? I would like to see some moves of yours?'' You asked ans squeezed his thigh. Jimin nodded fast for agreement and you headed towards the dance floor right when Hoseok returns to the table. You danced along few songs and indeed you can see that Jimin was a experienced dancer. His hips swayed along the beat naturally. Fast paced song turned into slow one and you put your hands around his neck and pulled him closer. He hesitantly took grip of your hips and swayed slowly with you. You grinned his crotch and you could clearly feel when he was turning hard in his pants. How about we go somewhere more private?'' You suggested and Jimin was instantly open for the idea. You navigated along the mass of people towards the bathrooms and went straight to empty bathroom past the line of people who were waiting for their turn. You heard some complains but you gave them so scary look that the line went quiet instantly. You push Jimin to bathroom door and lock the door with another hand. Jimin is at your mercy when you begin to suck his neck. You leave wet hickey on the spot and Jimin's arousal was turning more visible by the minute. You wasn't going to lie, you felt little damp spot forming in your underwear. Jimin pulled you closer from your butt and squeezed it gently. ''I'm rarely this bold.'' Jimin admitted panting. ''It's okay. I got you.'' You said and lean for a kiss. You bit his plumb lower lip and his mouth opened with small whimper. You slipped your tongue in and explored his mouth. You part panting for air. Air wasn't absolutely necessary for you but breathing was a habit that was hard to give up. A little bit of saliva was connecting your mouths together and you both grinned for it. Jimin swept it away and you returned kissing his neck. This time you were ready to draw blood. You bit gently his arched neck and small moan left Jimin's lips. You felt your fangs to grow longer and fast like a snake you pierced his pulsing neck. His blood poured into you mouth and it was your time to moan. ''What are you doing? Let me go!'' Jimin tried move away with panic. You tightened your grip when Jimin tried to thrash away. Even if he didn't want to the pain turned soon into pleasure and he moaned against his own will. In vampires spit was ingredients which caused pleasure for the victim when it entered into their blood steam. You were turning more energized when the blood poured into your mouth. The hot liquid calmed burning of your throat. You heard loud banging behind the door but decided ignore it in your foggy state. That was your second and last mistake. You pulled your tooth gently out and licked Jimin's wound closed. The door burst open and you and Jimin were pushed backwards. Worried looking Hoseok steps in and froze on the spot when he saw what was waiting for him. Your fangs were still long and pointed out, you had blood on your lips and scared Jimin with wide eyes were shaking on the floor. Hoseok's face turns into mask of anger and disgust. ''So I was right after all. You were a vampire.'' He growled and stepped towards you. His eyes were flaming and his hands were in tight fists. You felt fear crawling up to your sides. Even if you were a vampire his demeanor scared you. Usually people were afraid when they discovered one of your kind and Hoseok's reaction was far form normal. ''Ho-hobi.'' Jimin says weakly on the floor where he has fallen from impact that was caused by doors opening. Hoseok sifted his gaze quickly to his friend and you saw you chance. You sprinted out of the bathroom fast as you could without caring who could see you. You didn't stop until you reached safety of your home. You slammed your front door open which cases both Yoongi and Jin to hurry to you alarmed by the door slamming on the wall. ''Whats wrong?'' Yoongi asked and measured you worriedly. He was afraid that you were hurt is someway when he looks your upset form. ''I think, I think that I was discovered by a hunter.'' You said shakily. Jin's and Yoongi's faces turned into masks of horror.

#bts fanfic #bts supernatural au #bts vampire au #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #kpop angst #BTS jimin #BTS jin #BTS jungkook #BTS suga #bts rm #bts jhope #BTS v #fanfiction #bts #bts smut #bts au #bts angst

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imagination-of-a-melted-bitch · 6 years

Text

An Apple A Day || Sleepyhead {Kim Doyoung}

Prompt: Doyoung is the child who shows up to class late, doesn’t do his work and if he’s in the class he’s asleep, Doyoung falls asleep and moans your name,

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Word Count: 2.524k

Warning: None~

Mr. Moon, Mr. Nakamoto, Mr.Kim

I’ve spent all day on this story and it isn’t even that long! ahhhhhhh

Mr.Moon, Mr.Nakamoto, Mr.Kim

"Mr.Kim!" You called his name as he tried to sneak into the classroom, "So nice of you to join us," You put the marker down and turn to face your students. You cross your arms, smiling as he waved, taking his usual seat in the back. "Why are you so late today?" You entertain him as you pick up a stack of papers, counting through them again to make sure there was thirty of them, one for every student.

"Uh, my alarm didn't go off," You laugh at him, and begin to hand the papers out. "I was woken up by my roommate," He continues, stifling a chuckle, "His mom called him, their dog isn't feeling too well and she needs him to babysit this weekend, he invited me down but I got so much work to do this weekend, Ms.Y/L/N." You nod, you finally reach him and hand him his paper, "So much work," He yawns and you smile, kinking a brow.

"I bet," You make your way back to the front of the class, "Okay as you know I am very big on notes, could someone please tell me what my rules are for notes?" Doyoung wags his brows, raising his hand, "Yes, Doyoung?" You point to him in the back,

"You suggest we use black or blue ink, for memorization," Doyoung purses his lips, winking at you with a click of his tongue.

"Oh, that's a big word," The class laughs at your teasing, "But yes, that is my number one rule, blue and black ink is rumored to help with memorization, of course, I don't care if you use color but important stuff in the black or blue ink," Another hand shoots up, "Yes Ji?"

"You also suggest we write it down in our own words instead of word for word off the board, it also helps with memorization."

"Yes, yes, very true!" You clap your hands and sit at your desk, clicking over to the video. "Please pay attention to the video! I am not collecting the papers but you can use these for the upcoming exam so make sure they're good!" You click play on the video and walk across the room to turn the lights off. "It's thirty minutes long, I won't pause it along the way but I will provide the link at the end of class if you need it," You grab some papers you needed to grade and head to the back of the class, taking a seat next to the already sleeping Doyoung. You shake your head, you weren't even going to bother to wake him up he wouldn't take the notes anyway. "I'm going to be teaching you for many years to come," You whisper under your breath, and he tenses as if he knew you were talking to him.

It's halfway through the video and you're on your third paper when you start hearing small noises coming from Doyoung. You don't think too much of it at first, people often talked in their sleep. "Y/N," He moaned quietly and this made you snap your head in his direction. You furrowed your brows and rested your chin on your folded hands.

"Maybe she isn't talking about me," You wave it off, going back to grade your paper.

It doesn't stop though, "Ms.Y/L/N, please," He moans again and your eyes widen, you look around the room, the both of you were alone in the corner of the room, but he was getting louder. You look under his desk to find him lifting his hips as if thrusting up into someone. Your eyes dart back up to his face and his brows were furrowed, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. "Fuck," He whimpers, "Ms.Y/L/N please...please touch me," You decide enough is enough and you place your hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

"Doyoung, Doyoung wake up!" You whisper in his ear and he flies up, the back of his head almost hitting you in the face.

"Yes? Yes?" You shush him, everyone looks at the two of you.

"Eyes up front please," You whisper-shout to the others,

"Ms.Y/L/N is everyone okay?" He looks over at you and his mind is filled with images from his dream, his cheeks tinged with pink at the dream and he has to look away from you.

"Everything is fine but I need to see you after class...please," Doyoung turns forward, and hangs his head in his hands, what did I do, he wondered you gave him a soft smile before you continued to grade.

"Ms.Y/L/N you asked to see me," Doyoung smiled from the back of the class, getting up from his seat to join you down front.

"Uh yeah," You waltz to the door, closing and locking it.

"Why'd you want to see me?" It wasn't common for you to keep Doyoung after class. It was just a pick and prodding relationship between the two of you, he did what he did and you did what you did.

"This is kind of awkward," You run your tongue over your bottom lip, "But uh, when you were sleep..." You start, sitting down behind your desk, "You were kind of...." You look up at him and you can tell he already knows what he had done. "Moaning my name..." He looks away from you, his whole cocky demeanor having disappeared. "I-I don't want to make this awkward, I don't want anything to be different between the two of us...it's just...ah, I have to address this as your teacher."

"Please don't tell the dean," Doyoung clasps his hands together, shaking them at you. His eyes are wide and he juts his bottom lip out.

"No! Of course not, I would never," You shake your head with a soft chuckle, "I just...we're close and I like you, although you never do any of my work," The both of you laugh and you appreciate the lift of pressure in the room. "I just...let's forget about it, okay?" You stick your hand out but Doyoung doesn't take it,

"What if I don't want to forget about it?" He looks at your hand and he gently takes it, running his thumb over your knuckles. "I mean, I was obviously having these dreams for a reason Ms.Y/L/N," He lowers his voice, "Do you want to know what I dream about?" He lets go of your hand and drops his eyes to your lips as you gasp.

"Doyoung," You're surprised at his sudden boost of confidence, at the turn of the tables. Doyoung pushes his chair out and circles around your desk, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Do you remember what I said while I was sleep?" You nod, your breath becoming heavier at his touch. "Was it something along the lines of, 'Ms.Y/L/N, please touch me'?" You nod once again, and Doyoung smirks leaning over until his lips were next to your ear. "I've always wanted you to touch me Ms.Y/L/N, I've touched myself so many times thinking about the way you look in your dresses and skirts," He confesses, and it never once crossed his mind maybe he had gone too far, and it never did, actually it was the further thing from his mind when you squeezed your thighs together, softly moaning at his words. "Do you want to touch me Ms.Y/L/N?" You rake your teeth over your bottom lip, taking a deep breath. "Do you Ms.Y/L/N? Have you ever touched yourself thinking about me?"

You lean back into his touch, squeezing your thighs tighter, hoping to relieve some of the tension that was building up. "Yes..." You finally sigh, and you sound defeated as you finally give into something you've wanted for a long while. "God yes," You whisper more eagerly,

"I'm glad to hear that Ms.Y/L/N," Doyoung whispers hotly in your ear, his hand leaving your shoulder to trail down your body, his fingers drumming against the band of your skirt. "You know in my dream...you were in charge," Doyoung chuckles, pushing his hand into your skirt, his eyes widening to the size of saucers when he comes in contact with your bare slit. "But I think...I think you just need a little guidance for our first time, Ms.Y/L/N could you please stand up?" You do as he says and he pulls the chair out, taking your seat. "Ms.YL/N, well, may I call you Y/N?" He asks softly, lifting your skirt. You submissively part your legs, and Doyoung runs his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your glistening core.

"Of course," You moan, knees buckling when he blows cool air on your slit,

"Thank you Y/N, you have such a pretty name. Have I ever told you that?" Doyoung asked, grabbing each of your cheeks. He pulls them apart and darts his tongue out, lapping at your core.

"N-no," You whimper, reaching out to grab the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white by how hard your grip was. Doyoung pulls away with a long and dreadful sigh,

"I wish I could spend more time, devouring this sweet cunt of yours but your plan period doesn't last forever," Doyoung lifts his hips and pulls his joggers down freeing his cock. "I want you to ride me Y/N," One of his hands grab his cock and the other lifts your skirt, "I actually like Ms.Y/L/N more," He chuckles pulling you to him, lining himself up with your entrance. "Makes what we're doing seem naughtier," He whispers as you lean back into his chest, "And you're a naughty woman Ms.Y/L/N, such a naughty woman," He wraps an arm around your middle section pushing into you. You gasp, toes curling in your shoes at the stretch.

"Fuck Doyoung," You whimpered one hand reaching behind him to pull the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You like that Ms.Y/L/N? You like my cock inside your tight little pussy?"

"I love it Doyoung, I fucking like it," Doyoung chuckles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I thought I was supposed to be riding you," You moan, teeth sinking into your lower lip as Doyoung slams up into you.

"You're right, go ahead and ride me Ms.Y/L/N, take charge," You plant your hands on the desk, grinding yourself down against him. "Holy shit,"

"Language young man," You tease, clenching around him, "Gotta learn some respect," You click your tongue, shaking your head. You roll your hips, taking a shaky breath.

"You're doing a lot of talking Ms.Y/L/N, not enough riding," Doyoung leans forward, pressing hot kisses against the back of your neck. You stand up from his lap, shivering at the loss of being filled. "What? Why?" He stumbles over his words as you turn around, his questions stopping when straddle his lap once again. You reach under your skirt, lining his cock up at your entrance.

"I want to look at you," You shrug, slowly sinking down onto his cock.

"Fuck," He hisses, throwing his head back with a flutter of his eyes.

"You look so pretty when you're being fucked," You smile, your hand snaking up to pull his head back, exposing his long neck. Doyoung whimpers and bucks his hips up into you. "Remember your dream? I was in charge right?" Doyoung makes a small noise of approval, "I think I'm ready Doyoung," You growl, sitting up straight you move your hands to the armrest of the chair. "Fuck, I've been ready," You roll your hips into him again, walls squeezing him dry.

"Ms.Y/L/N, we're not working with a lot of time here," Doyoung looked at the clock, he was right there were only ten minutes left.

"I know how much time we have," You hush him, hand sneaking between your legs. Your fingers find your clit and you begin to pick up your pace. "Don't worry about it, I just want you cumming for me, okay Doyoungie?" Doyoung moans at the nickname, his hands grabbing your ass under your skirt. You're surprised when he digs his nails into the tender flesh of your ass but you don't let it still your actions on his cock.

"I'm close Ms.Y/L/N," Doyoung grunts, he had been close since he felt you wrapped around him. "So close,"

"Where do you want to cum Doyoungie?" You use the name again, his cock twitching inside of you.

"Can I cum inside of you?" You click your tongue at him, softly shaking your head as your fingers quickened on your clit. Your stomach was tightening and you were ready to tumble over the edge. "Do you want to swallow it?" His voice drops and it shouldn't affect you as much as it does but you lurch forward, your thighs tightening around his waist as you hit your high. "Shit, shit, shit," Doyoung bellows, as you tighten around him, your body shaking over his.

"Doyoung," You gasps, pressing your forehead against his, "It feels so good," You cry, " You. You feel so good." Doyoung lifts you off of him just in time for him to cum on the inside of your thigh.

"I couldn't, I couldn't" He breaths, trying to explain himself in the midst of his orgasm,

"Sh, it's okay, it's okay," You coo him as you grind yourself against him, riding out the both of your orgasms. Doyoung's hips jerk a few times, as you continue to brush your core against him.

"Ms.Y/L/N, we have to get dressed," He taps your ass, grabbing a few tissues from your desk to clean the inside of your thigh. You quickly hop off his lap and watch him clean himself up, tucking himself back into his joggers.

"Doyoung, grab my purse and grab my perfume please," He does as you ask, grabbing your perform and spritzing the room with it. The smell of sex is slowly replaced with the smell of your perfume. "We've got one minute to go, hurry and gather your stuff," Doyoung jumps up from your chair doing as you told him, and you walk to the door unlocking it,

"Same time tomorrow?" He smirks, quickly pecking your lips before the bell rings and students file into the classroom,

"Yeah, yeah, yeah I'd see you tomorrow Mr.Kim Doyoung, have a nice evening," You wave goodbye to the excited boy, turning to greet your class.

"So how is everyone today?"

#boy group writers net #kpopwritingnet #kpocwriters #kreativenetwork #thewritersnetwork #kim doyoung #kim doyoung fanfic #kim doyoung scenario #kim doyoung scenarios #nct 127 smut series #kim doyoung smut #kim doyoung fanfiction #nct 127 scenario #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fanfiction #nct 127 scenarios #teacher/student

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bxebxee · 7 years

Text

buy my love [one]

Note: thank you for putting up with all those drafts. after forty-seven years here it is in full un-edited glory. it’s different than how i originally pictured it, but i’m happy that it’s done. this will be multi-part, and they’ll be short. sometimes they won’t even be connected. also i usually put pictures next to my scenarios, but i’m going to discontinue doing that starting now and moving forward.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader Genre: smut, smut, and more smut, sugar mama au Warnings: escort/prostitution, oral, semi-public Word Count: 1722 Rating: NC-17/MA

Multi Parts: [one] [two] [three] **ongoing, to be updated as i write...**

Summary: It started in the bathroom of a club...

Taehyung doesn’t expect a lot out of the latest networking event. It’s already two months into year four already, and so far he hasn’t scored a single internship, mentorship, apprenticeship, or a ship to moon so he could maybe die after disappointing his family for the last time. He’s generally not a bitter person, but it’s particularly off-putting to see all of his close friends make real progress towards their dreams while he flounders in some sort of weird, purgatorial, developmental hell. This was not at all how university was supposed to go.

He fidgets in his seat as he rereads the texts Jimin sent him reminding him of the online statistics quiz due tonight at 11:59PM.

[18:08] jimin: i know you didnt even start and its like 33 questions long

[18:08] jimin: it took me an hour to finish rip

[18:10] jimin: question order will probably be randomized but if u start and u need help lmk. good luck @ networking!

Taehyung is about 99% grateful for the reminder and offer from his roommate, so it’s with a guilty heart that he tries to squash the ugly 1% that wants to throw a tantrum about not needing a babysitter to finish the dumb quiz.

Not good enough. No one says those exact words to his face, but they don’t need to - not when the world slaps him with a daily reminder through each rejection notice and unanswered call. It’s not like his current debt-to-income ratio isn’t depressing the hell out of him already. Graduation is approaching; he’ll probably enlist. And this would give him another two to three years worth of a grace period before he’s forced to tackle the biggest question of his life: now what?

So as Taehyung sits in his worn, second-hand, knock-off designer suit at some alumni-student mixer listening to the career center fraud up at the podium go on and on about “opening doors for students” and the “great success” of the program, he’s bored. It’s all lies anyway because Taehyung has certainly not been on the receiving end of any of the benefits.

“…I’d like to introduce our next speaker, a true pioneer in global commerce….”

He catches the eye of a moderately attractive girl in a pink, silk-looking cocktail dress sitting over at table five looking just as bored as he feels. It’s almost automatic at how he estimates her measurements when he gives her the once-over (169cm, 49kg, 70DD, fucking yes).

She rolls her eyes with a smirk when they make eye contact, and suddenly Taehyung is less bored. At the very least if the whole networking thing didn’t work out, he knows he could probably get laid, statistics quiz notwithstanding. Pink Dress plays with her hair and stares him down, mouth slightly parted and crooked in an alluring half-smile. Her plump lips would look so pretty kissing his dick.

Taehyung wonders if she’s a commuter because he sure as hell hasn’t seen her around. It’s a small campus, and Taehyung pretty much knows everyone worth knowing. Judging from the signals she’s giving him, Pink Dress knows who he is and exactly what his reputation has in store for her. While he isn’t a heart-breaker, he is not known to to be celibate or monogamous.

He winks. It’s a little cheap and a little obvious, but it’s also effective as hell. He’s not at all surprised when her smirk smooths out into a coy smile. Taehyung is pretty much done with this whole event, and Pink Dress looks down to play as well.

There is clapping around him, and Taehyung is brought out of his vivid fantasy of leaving a hot mess all over her face. He looks to the stage out of forced politeness as he claps less than halfheartedly. The career center bureaucrat steps off the stage to share the podium, and he feels the world drop from under him when he sees you adjust the microphone down to your height.

It’s you.

He swallows once, twice, and again, not entirely believing his mind or his eyes as he blinks away the confusion and settles into the realization that you are standing on stage at his networking event about to give some important speech.

The woman who sucked him off last week in the men’s room of a dirty club stands smiling before a whole crowd of desperate students, Taehyung included, wearing the same, skin-tight, Balmain mini dress that drove him nuts that night. He only remembers the brand because you had chastised him for getting his semen on the fabric.

(“You’re so annoying,” you sighed after spotting the stain, “This is custom Balmain... you’re lucky you’re cute.”)

From his view at the table, there is not a trace of him left on your immaculate dress. After all, semen did leave noticeable reminders on black fabric. And apparently you were an outfit repeater. Still, if the dress looked scandalous to him last week, it only looks assertive and powerful tonight.

“Thank you very much for your kind introduction,” you purr into the microphone, nodding at the career center jerk just the slightest bit in thanks. And fuck him, you sounded like sex too. “I have to admit it’s a little odd hearing you say all those impressive things about me when not seven years ago you were telling me to, and I quote, ‘wake up and get my shit together.’ But a little tough love goes a long way, doesn’t it?”

There is scattered, awkward laughter, but that doesn’t seem to deter you from keeping your composure. Some of the career center advisors have their faces frozen in a polite smile after hearing you swear, and Taehyung can tell they regret inviting you.

“Anyway,“ you start once more, eyes gleaming with a barely-there smile, "Good evening students.” You are the picture of professionalism and poise, your voice steady and commanding with just the right amount of authority tempered by a soft, feminine lilt. “Hope you’re not just here for the free food.”

Taehyung forgets all about Pink Dress as you speak about your transition from student to entrepreneur, and if he hadn’t already cum in your mouth, he would have probably been more attentive to your speech. However, his mind inevitably drifts to more pleasurable thoughts like his hazy, alcohol-blurred memories of last week. Who could have ever predicted Kim Taehyung would be the recipient of a blowjob from some Millionaire Businesswoman? And who could have ever predicted she would be an alumni of his school?

“A lot of you are juniors and seniors, and you’re probably worried about getting a job after college, or grad school... and figuring out what to do about the debt. And I can tell you that ten years ago I was sitting exactly where you are sitting right now worrying about the same things. But sometimes all it takes to get you to the next level is talking to the right people and getting inspired-”

Taehyung smiles when your perfunctory glance over his table results in him being spotted. His tongue darts of out of his mouth to lick at his lips, and he can see your eyes widen with recognition faster than he expected. Taehyung did pride himself on having a memorable face.

You blink twice and look away, continuing your speech as if nothing happened. He’s mildly disappointed, but more impressed that you keep your composure so well. But he figures that you didn’t become a millionaire CEO by accident, and that knowing how to deal with unexpected surprises came with the territory.

Taehyung’s heart beats progressively faster as you sound like you are wrapping up your speech by inviting students to engage you in one-on-one conversations. You’re a lot more friendlier tonight than at the club.

(“Stay still,” you ordered, pushing his back against dirty bathroom wall. There was more force to the push than necessary, but Taehyung loved every second of it. His mouth felt hot from how you raked your teeth against his lips half a second ago, and he could feel the alcohol and lack of oxygen create a dizzying high that went straight to his groin.

You dropped to your knees, yanking at his belt and pants. Taehyung could hear his own panting clash with the clinks from his belt, and he struggled to keep his hands at his sides when he felt your breath release warm bursts of air over his crotch. He had a strong suspicion you would not take kindly to any hair pulling.)

“I look forward to the chance at getting to know who you are-”

(“Who are you?” Taehyung moaned, fists balling up as you laved his tip with tongue and saliva and heat.)

“-going beyond just what’s on your résumé and truly learning about you as an individual and what your goals are in life-”

(”What do you want?” you asked him, mouth carved into a wicked smirk. This was the third time you stopped, and while your wet hand jerking him in a slow, teasing fashion felt nice, all Taehyung wanted to do at this point was cum until he couldn’t see straight and then maybe pass out.

“I wanna cum,” he confessed, fixing you with the most desperate look he could manage. He felt like he would explode at any moment, and he was this close to actually sobbing. “I wanna cum so bad... please...”

And then you said something that made him hiccup.

“Where?” you asked before sucking him in deep again.)

“-this is your opportunity. Use it.”

Taehyung claps along with the rest of the students, hands coming together automatically as if he was a robot. His eyes are fixed on you, and he’s damn near elated to see that you’re looking back at him - and you’re smiling too. When you exit the stage, he makes a mental note that you’re sitting over by table fourteen.

He looks at Pink Dress by mistake, and she’s already moved on to make eye contact with a guy from table three who Taehyung recognizes as the Annoying Smart Kid from his Media Ethics class. Taehyung sees him blushing furiously as she bats her eyelashes at him, which is a little sad because she’s not even trying. They could have each other. He had a millionaire CEO to chat up.

#bangtan bookclub #bts writers #noonanet #chokemebangtan #bts au #bts scenarios #genre: au #genre: smut #member: taehyung #v smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #v scenarios #taehyung scenarios

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him-e · 7 years

Note

What do you think it was that made Jaime confide his secret to Brienne? Was it just a breaking point for him and he would have spilled had it been someone else in Brienne's place

Someone else? No.

(just… imagine Jaime confessing to a naked-as-his-nameday Qyburn, I’m howling)

Like, of course he could have, because Jaime is a fictional character and he does what GRRM wants him to do. Which is precisely why his confiding in Brienne is such a BIG authorial decision, even if, in-narrative, it were completely random. But it’s not. Brienne is a huge part of what leads Jaime to that breaking point. The fact that Jaime makes this confession to her (and nobody else) is essential in understanding why he does it, why he kept that secret for so long, his troubled relationship with knighthood, and many other things about his arc.

1. a breaking point. the jaime we meet in ASOS is a man at the end of his rope (re: carrying the burden of the secret about Aerys all alone / not sharing with anyone the reason why he killed him). He’s spent an entire book in captivity, surrounded by people who despise him, and this probably had the effect of forcing him to think about Aerys harder than he usually did (more on that later). Since early in ASOS, we see that Jaime thinks of Aerys often, reluctantly but often, and as his chapters progress he becomes increasingly and visibly exhausted at being addressed as “kingslayer”. His memories of Aerys are easily triggered and surface in scattered, angst-ridden flashbacks, each revealing a specific piece of the puzzle, but not the main course. His mind wants to go there, but at the same time retreats from it. Aside from doylist reasons (to create suspense and curiosity in the reader) I think this proves how killing the king represents a highly traumatic event for him—or better, the culmination of a traumatic series of circumstances he was subjected to when he was barely an adult (let’s not forget that Jaime’s first 2 years of service in the kingsguard coincided with the nadir of Aerys’ paranoia and madness. He witnessed unspeakable horrors, was told to shut up, had to learn how to “go away inside” while Aerys raped and barbecued people, all of this when he was 15-16 and knew exactly that the king considered him his tool to humiliate Tywin. Remember, Aerys’ last order was for Jaime to bring him Tywin’s head, or “burn with all the rest”.)

(the reason why Jaime kept his mouth sealed on the wildfire plot for 15+ years is an interesting question. It can’t be only misplaced commitment to the oath of keeping the king’s secrets, can it? This fandom seems to have settled on the idea that Jaime is a narcissist with a victim complex who just loves playing the unsung hero, and apparently this one note can be retroactively used to explain all his actions. Ahem, in this circumstance, who would he be playing the unsung hero to? Himself? lol, that’s not fucking worth it if you don’t have an audience, not even an imaginary one. But it IS about pride. He knew it since his father’s bannermen laid their eyes on him with silent judgment—there’s no workable extenuating circumstance for a knight of the kingsguard committing regicide, simple as that, and coming up with some ~averted wildfire apocalypse~ nonsense without any pyromancers or other witnesses left to back his claim would sound like begging for forgiveness. Jaime is a Lannister, he doesn’t beg. He doesn’t justify himself, that’s for scoundrels and small time crooks. No, he lifts his chin and owns it. Oh, and it’s also possible that he genuinely thought it was safer for the entire citizenship to ignore the existence of the wildfire caches altogether, as there’s absolutely no evidence of Jaime knowing that the hidden wildfire can be accidentally ignited, but I digress.)

Since we don’t have access to his pov before ASOS, we don’t know if this constant back and forth between present and past is something that Jaime has always done, or a more recent thing. I headcanon that the long captivity Jaime suffered in Riverrun is a key factor. That’s where I think he started to seriously weigh up “his life, his choices” (he’s still halfway through that process). Imprisoned for months, surrounded by enemies all the time, removed from the things that made him a proud Lannister, that gave him joy and relief and a solid sense of self (Cersei), his coping mechanisms began to fall apart. Jaime has always relied on his sense of superiority, on his “I am a Lannister, and you can all kiss my arse” mentality to cope with his broken reputation. Hiding behind sarcasm, reveling in the addictive thrill of his forbidden relationship with Cersei, sneering at his fellow kingsguards / the hypocrisy of the court / Ned’s honor, all of this helped him to keep functioning without falling apart, because kingslayer or not he was the lion of Lannister, better than the rest, stronger than the rest, he and Cersei living a life closer to the gods than to ordinary mortal people. Jaime has learned how to dgaf about those who whisper “kingslayer” behind his back, but that’s different now. The captivity in Riverrun is probably the longest time he’s had to deal with people’s open, unmitigated contempt with no shields or barriers, no safety nets aside from his own mind, which is an increasingly unpleasant place to be in. (jaime is both insecure and prideful, a terrible, terrible combo when you receive criticism)

so when Catelyn comes to visit (actually to force an oath on him), he’s exhausted. He still relies heavily on sarcasm, but his walls are low enough to start blathering about “too many vows” (also because, well, he’s drunk) which sounds like the beginning of… an explanation, perhaps. But it’s too early for that, Catelyn is not the kind of audience who has any patience for his shit, and he will have to lose much more than his dignity to finally spill the beans.

2. it’s particularly Brienne’s accusations that sting. It becomes personal. He always reacts when she addresses his oathbreaking and kingslaying with contempt. Sometimes jokingly:

“I’ve had a bellyful of silence, woman.”“Talk with Ser Cleos then. I have no words for monsters.”Jaime hooted. “Are there monsters hereabouts? Hiding beneath the water, perhaps? In that thick of willows? And me without my sword!”

sometimes deflecting:

“Do you deny that you slew a king?”“No. Do you deny your sex? If so, unlace those breeches and show me.” He gave her an innocent smile. “I’d ask you to open your bodice, but from the look of you that wouldn’t prove much.”

“A man who would violate his own sister, murder his king, and fling an innocent child to his death deserves no other name.”Innocent? The wretched boy was spying on us. […] “You will be courteous as concerns Cersei, wench”.

sometimes (kind of) apologetically:

“Your crimes are past forgiving, Kingslayer.”“That name again.” Jaime twisted idly at his chains. “Why do I enrage you so? I’ve never done you harm that I know of.”

sometimes aggressively:

“It was that white cloak that soiled me, not the other way around. So spare me your envy. It was the gods who neglected to give you a cock, not me.” The look Brienne gave him then was full of loathing.

sometimes attempting to corner her into the logical fallacy of “your reputation isn’t that different from mine, so we’re practically the same!”:

“I know what I swore.”“And what you did.” She loomed above him, six feet of freckled, frowning, horse-toothed disapproval.“Yes, and what you did as well. We’re both kingslayers here, if what I’ve heard is true.”

“Your wits are quicker than mine, I confess it. When they found me standing over my dead king, I never thought to say, ‘No, no, it wasn’t me, it was a shadow, a terrible cold shadow.’“ He laughed again. ”Tell me true, one kingslayer to another—did the Starks pay you to slit his throat, or was it Stannis? Had Renly spurned you, was that the way of it? Or perhaps your moon’s blood was on you. Never give a wench a sword when she’s bleeding.“ For a moment Jaime thought Brienne might strike him.

Brienne is an endless challenge. He can see the disapproval in her eyes even when she says nothing, and it drives him insane. It’s not just physical and mental exhaustion and frustration at his own powerlessness—Brienne is his captor, so naturally he’s going to lash out at her, try to goad her into lashing out herself, or just be annoyed at her in general—it’s also that he sees in Brienne a genuine judgment, free of the hypocrisy of those who were well content with serving Aerys and watch him roast people alive, until Aerys was no more the king and Robert was. Or those who have their hands covered in blood and have slit countless throats with their sword, throats that belonged to better people than Aerys.

Brienne isn’t like that. Her hands are clean (book!Brienne has yet to kill her first man at this point), her eyes are truly guileless, and her only fault is a lack of experience. An infuriating one, sure—it angers Jaime to hear her describe the kingsguard as “a rare and precious gift […] that you scorned and soiled”, because what does this child know of the kingsguard. but that’s the point. She doesn’t belong to the world that soiled his dreams. She wasn’t much older than the two children who were brutally murdered under his watch at the time of the sack of King’s Landing. Indeed, Jaime sometimes calls her a child in his internal monologue. It’s innocence, not hypocrisy, that is judging him. It’s something his usual performative cynicism doesn’t really have a grip on.

So basically he finds trapped in endless discourse with this young woman who just won’t leave him alone and always finds a way to throw his broken vows and monstrosity in his face, and it becomes harder and harder to dismiss her accusations. Because deep down Jaime is impressed and moved by her unflinching faith in knightly values. He thinks she’s stupid for doing so, sure, but it hits a nerve.

3. truces are built on trust. After Cleos dies and they are captured by the Bloody Mummers, Jaime and Brienne’s mutual relationship drastically changes. They stop being a prisoner and his captor, and become both prisoners of a bunch of brutal outlaws. Jaime is maimed, Brienne is repeatedly threatened with rape. I believe this is called traumatic bonding? But anyway, the point is that, willing or not, Jaime starts relying on Brienne. Heavily. Literally:

After the second time he fell from the saddle, they bound him tight to Brienne of Tarth and made them share a horse again. One day, instead of back to front, they bound them face-to-face. “The lovers,” Shagwell sighed loudly, “and what a lovely sight they are. ‘Twould be cruel to separate the good knight and his lady.” Then he laughed that high shrill laugh of his, and said, “Ah, but which one is the knight and which one is the lady?”If I had my hand, you’d learn that soon enough, Jaime thought. His arms ached and his legs were numb from the ropes, but after a while none of that mattered. His world shrunk to the throb of agony that was his phantom hand, and Brienne pressed against him. She’s warm, at least, he consoled himself, though the wench’s breath was as foul as his own.

She becomes a sort of anchor for him, someone whose physical proximity is comforting and reassuring and sometimes a literal crutch, and don’t forget that she’s also tasked with cleaning and nursing him while he’s feverish and gave him a pep talk when he was feeling suicidal, so he gets to experience her nurturing side, too. He knows her mission is to take him alive and unharmed to King’s Landing and that—unlike Vargo Hoat & co.—she takes it very, very seriously. At this point, in this situation, Brienne is the closest thing to a friend he has. Now fast forward to the bathtub scene:

“That was unworthy,” he mumbled. “I’m a maimed man, and bitter. Forgive me, wench. You protected me as well as any man could have, and better than most.” She wrapped her nakedness in a towel. “Do you mock me?” That pricked him back to anger. “Are you as thick as a castle wall? That was an apology. I am tired of fighting with you. What say we make a truce?” “Truces are built on trust. Would you have me trust - ” “The Kingslayer, yes. The oathbreaker who murdered poor sad Aerys Targaryen.“

the scene begins as your typical Jaime VS Brienne banter, with Jaime being a complete asshole, teasing and taunting Brienne even though he’s literally half dead (right before that: “Does the sight of my stump distress you so?” Jaime asked. “You ought to be pleased. I’ve lost the hand I killed the king with. The hand that flung the Stark boy from that tower. The hand I’d slide between my sister’s thighs to make her wet.” He thrust his stump at her face. “No wonder Renly died, with you guarding him”). But I think he’s genuinely desperate to have someone on his side, which is why he quickly swallows his taunts back and apologizes (in his own way).

Strange as it is, he trusts Brienne. He needs to. But she won’t trust him, not yet: he’s still the Kingslayer in her eyes, even after all they went through together.

You need trust to have a truce, so he makes the first step, and volunteers his most guarded secret. Mind, it’s not like he knows what he’s doing—it’s not a completely deliberate choice. He’s exhausted and feverish and lightheaded: “why am I telling this absurd ugly child”, he wonders, while he “floats in heat and memory” and the story practically begins to tell itself, for it was bottled up for too long and was only waiting for a trigger that could let it loose.

But I think the need to build that truce with Brienne is that trigger.

Now, can you really picture Qyburn in Brienne’s place? Or Roose Bolton? Or Pia? Or anyone? I can’t, because these people are nothing to Jaime—worse, most of them are his enemies. He hasn’t developed a complicated, conflicted relationship of begrudging respect with them. Besides, none of them would understand or particularly care about this confession; none of them wants desperately to be a knight of the kingsguard, believes in the sacrality of the institution and is deeply offended at the idea of someone revolting against its vows for apparently no reason—Brienne is. So it’s her opinion the relevant one. The one Jaime implicitly hopes to change (though he will never admit it to himself, and carefully avoids putting it in these terms in his internal monologue).

He didn’t wait 16 years to just tell a random stranger. And if he merely wanted to unburden himself, he could have told Tyrion, or Cersei (the people he’s closest to). He didn’t, because they couldn’t get it either—they will never know (or so he thinks) the inherent contradiction of being an institutionalized killing machine bound to the whims of another person and still have to answer to your own conscience. Jaime is a knight, and one of a kind, so he’s going to tell another knight who is also one of a kind (for completely different reasons). Somehow, in some fundamental way, he understands that Brienne is his peer, and that she has already started to see a side of him that he’s always kept hidden; hopefully, his words won’t fall into the void with her, they’ll sink deep and stir a reaction, whatever it is.

(that’s why, in the end, he’s SO frustrated by Brienne’s silence: has my tale turned you speechless? Come, curse me or kiss me or call me a liar. Something. Jaime is desperate for either outright, definitive condemnation, or—finally—some kind of acceptance. I think part of him craves closure. And validation: please, tell me that my tale impressed you! (the narcissism discourse isn’t wrong, just very simplistic). But also: please, can you confirm that this is in fact a Big Deal? because back then I thought it was enough of a big deal to murder everyone involved with it!)

back to this:

“why am I telling this absurd ugly child?”

—this is actually lampshading on grrm’s part. It does require some suspension of disbelief that Jaime kept this secret for sixteen years, only to reveal it to someone who’s still, technically, his enemy, and whom he’s spent half the book cursing and mocking, right? But that “absurd ugly child” is not random at all, she is, in fact, the only possible recipient for Jaime’s secret, and on a deeper level he knows it. That’s why his conscious mind formulates the question, which, from a storytelling perspective, is there to tell you to pay attention. It means a lot that Jaime, that Jaime’s subconscious, chose Brienne. This is an incredibly layered, poignant scene. They’re both naked, exposed to each other without their armor and clothes and respective house sigils and all those concrete symbols of their political, social, ideological, ethical distance. All of that is removed, dissolved like the dirt on Jaime’s skin. It makes sense that only in this context, with all these underlying connections to cleansing, rebirth, nakedness, and in front of the person who most embodies the purest form of the ideal of knighthood, Jaime is finally compelled to tell the truth, all of it.

one last thing I’d like to mention is that there’s an ongoing thing on Jaime’s part about ~breaking in Brienne’s walls ~ that probably played a part here. He often notices how closed off she is, how guarded. In the early stages of their journey, he mistakes it for dullness, and tries to turn this to his advantage, to piss her off, to find her sore spots to make her lose her temper. Later, as their bond deepens, he discovers that this is a trait she shares with him:

Brienne was always bound beside him. She lay there in her bonds like a big dead cow, saying not a word. The wench has built a fortress inside herself. They will rape her soon enough, but behind her walls they cannot touch her. But Jaime’s walls were gone.

Yet he heard himself whisper, “Let them do it, and go away inside.” That was what he’d done, when the Starks had died before him, Lord Rickard cooking in his armor while his son Brandon strangled himself trying to save him. “Think of Renly, if you loved him. Think of Tarth, mountains and seas, pools, waterfalls, whatever you have on your Sapphire Isle, think…”

Brienne’s guardedness, much as her virginity, both intrigues and repels Jaime. One of the catalysts of the confession is that Brienne shrinks away and turns her back on him. She’s basically retreating behind her walls and shutting him out, while he actively sought her company (he chose the tub she was in, rather than an empty one). Jaime is met once again with rejection and scorn, and he knows that it’s not really about the fact that he just saw her naked, or about something he’s said or done, no, it’s about something he did 16 years ago. It always comes back to Aerys, so Jaime confesses. And I think that yes, in part, he’s trying to get past Brienne’s walls.

#anon #asks #got asks #jaime x brienne #jb**#got**#the bathtub scene #the wildfire plot #rape tw #jb meta #got for ts #jaime x brienne for ts

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