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#honestly his mouth/teeth are bothering me but i dont care enough to try and fix it
panspy-draws · 2 months
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static shock enjoyers please look at him
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sunsents · 3 years
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Content 2/2 - F.W (M)
Empty Chapter II
IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.
CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE
Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.
Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader
Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out
Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff
Rating: 18+
DON’T REPOST MY WORK
tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3
Five Years Later, 2003
"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.
"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."
Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"
"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."
"I don't think her name is Stacey though."
You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.
"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."
Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.
Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.
You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.
Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.
The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.
Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.
You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."
Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."
Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.
"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."
You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.
After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.
The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.
You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.
After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.
"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."
She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.
You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"
Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."
"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.
Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.
You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.
Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.
People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.
Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.
Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.
Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.
"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"
"Fleur! What are you doing here?"
With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.
"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.
You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.
Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.
"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."
"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.
The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.
Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"
"Auntie ____!"
A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-
"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."
The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.
Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.
“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.
You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.
Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”
Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.
“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.
Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”
A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.
“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”
Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”
Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”
Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.
It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.
And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.
“____?”
And then, you’re suffocating.
He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.
His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.
His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.
His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.
He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.
His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.
You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.
He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.
Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.
“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”
You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.
Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.
You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.
You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.
“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.
“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.
You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”
He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”
“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?
It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.
“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”
George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“
“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”
His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”
Someone clears their throat.
It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.
“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.
Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!
And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.
You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.
He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.
It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.
The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.
“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.
Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.
He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”
You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.
“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.
Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.
“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.
You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues
Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”
“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.
Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”
“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”
Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.
Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”
Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”
“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”
Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.
Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.
Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.
Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)
Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.
He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.
You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.
He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.
You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight.  This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.
“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”
Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.
“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.
“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.
You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.
You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”
And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.
“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.
“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.
Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.
Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.
Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.
“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.
You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”
“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.
You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.
“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“
“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.
“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”
“Wha-“
George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”
“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.
Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”
Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.
“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”
Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”
Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.
“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.
Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.
It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.
Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.
It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.
And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.
Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.
How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?
Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.
————————
When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.
Jambo’s no different.
So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.
You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.
Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?
It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.
Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.
And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.
What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?
Absolute blasphemy.
Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.
Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.
Of course your logic sucks.
Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.
Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.
Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.
A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.
You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-
Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.
“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”
You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.
“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.
Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.
“Morning, I know it’s early and-”
“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”
Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.
You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.
But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?
The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.
He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-
Woah, down girl.
Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.
“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.
“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”
It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.
The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.
“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”
You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”
You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”
Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”
You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.
“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.
“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”
The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.
He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.
“Alright.” he says softly.
His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.
How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.
“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.
The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.
“Eva!”
Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”
You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”
Fred winces. “Actually-”
“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”
“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”
You freeze. “What?”
They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”
Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”
You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.
Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.
It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.
Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.
But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.
It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.
They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.
Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.
“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”
Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”
He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”
You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.
He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.
Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”
“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”
“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”
Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”
Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”
“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”
Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”
Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”
Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”
You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”
The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.
He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”
That turns the after taste into pure panic.
How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.
“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.
Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.
——————
You look good.
Or, at least you think you do.
Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.
Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.
“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”
Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”
As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.
Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”
Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”
Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.
You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.
“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.
You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.
Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.
“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”
Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.
“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”
Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.
You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”
The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.
For a moment, you forget where you’re going.
Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.
Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.
Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.
You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.
You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.
Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.
You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.
“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.
“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.
“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”
You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”
George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”
When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.
The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.
Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support
“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.
Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.
You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.
“____!”
Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.
“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”
Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”
“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”
You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.
“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”
Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”
Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.
“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.
Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.
“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.
“I think you know why,” says Harry.
“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.
You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’
You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.
Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.
Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?
He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.
It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.
You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.
You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.
“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.
“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.
His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.
“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.
“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”
Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”
You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.
“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.
Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.
Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”
You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”
“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”
“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.
Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”
When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.
“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”
Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.
Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”
Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”
It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.
“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”
A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.
“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.
You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”
“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”
You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”
You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.
“What I meant to say was, I wan-“
“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”
When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.
The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.
She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.
But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.
Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.
“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.
You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.
Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.
Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.
“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”
Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”
She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.
“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.
Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”
Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.
You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.
Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.
“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”
He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”
“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.
He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”
“Well what changed your mind?”
Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”
“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.
It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.
Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.
The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.
“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.
Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.
You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.
“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.
Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”
You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”
“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”
“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.
Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”
Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”
Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”
Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.
Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.
Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”
“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?
Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”
“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.
“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”
You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.
“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”
Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.
“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “
You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.
“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.
You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.
Eva stutters, “What?”
“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”
“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.
“No, he won’t.”
When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”
She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.
“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”
“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.
“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”
By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.
Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.
Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”
You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.
“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.
“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”
Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.
A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”
“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”
You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”
Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.
“Yeah, you!” you cry.
Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.
“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”
——————
Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.
If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?
Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.
You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.
“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”
Fred’s expression softens. “What?”
You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”
Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.
“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.
“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”
Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”
Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”
You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”
You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”
Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”
“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.
“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”
You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.
“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”
Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”
His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”
“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”
Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.
“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.
“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”
“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”
Fred freezes - second time that night.
Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.
Fuck fuck fuck.
You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.
But it was too late.
Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.
“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.
“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”
You almost swallow your tongue.
Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.
Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.
He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.
“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.
“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”
“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.
“That’s Freddie for you, love.”
Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.
“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.
You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.
“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”
“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”
“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”
“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”
“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”
The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.
“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”
“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.
“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”
That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.
Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”
“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”
You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.
But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.
Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.
Fuck.
It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.
“Finally!” George yells.
Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”
Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.
If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.
Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,
The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.
Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.
Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.
“____.”
You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.
“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.
You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”
“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.
“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.
“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.
You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”
“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”
“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”
George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.
“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”
“Took you long enough.”
He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”
“I won’t.”
Your lie slips so easily.
It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?
You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.
You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?
“____.”
Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.
“____, darling.”
Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.
“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”
Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”
You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.
Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.
“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.
Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.
“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”
There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.
Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“
“Yes it does, and stupid!”
“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”
Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”
“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”
“That doesn’t explain the rest-“
“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.
“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“
“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.
I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.
“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”
Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.
Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.
“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”
This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.
————
It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.
Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.
Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.
Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.
Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.
Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.
Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.
And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.
“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.
“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”
Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”
“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“
“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”
You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.
Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-
Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.
You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.
The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.
Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.
Knock Knock
Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”
You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“
By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.
“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.
He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.
“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”
You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.
“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”
“Thank you.”
Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.
As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;
“Fred I-“
“I wanted to-“
Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”
Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?
“Fred,-“
“No, let me finish this time.”
You stay silent.
“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”
“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.
“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”
“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.
“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”
You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”
Fred raises a brow.
“Sorry, continue.”
“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“
You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”
“I did.” you smile.
“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”
“Near what?” You gasp.
Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.
“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”
“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”
Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”
“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.
But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.
“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”
Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.
“I was thinking of you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”
Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”
“Oh.”
You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”
“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.
“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.
He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”
“Do what?”
Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.
He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.
“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”
He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”
You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”
You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.
True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.
“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”
If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.
“Fred, don-“
Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.
“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”
You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.
“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.
He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.
His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.
Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.
Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”
You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”
Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.
He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.
“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.
“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”
You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”
Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.
His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.
He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.
“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”
“Then - ahh Freddie!”
“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”
He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”
You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.
“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.
Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”
His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.
That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.
He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.
“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”
“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.
But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.
Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.
“Really?”
“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”
Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”
“Wha- which one?”
“The white one.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh.”
“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”
You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”
Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”
You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.
“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.
Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.
Of course he has abs.
You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into
You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.
“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”
When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.
His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.
Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”
You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”
“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.
Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”
You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”
“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.
“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”
Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”
You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.
Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”
Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.
You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”
“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.
“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”
It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”
The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.
Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”
“I love you too - oh!”
Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”
“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”
His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.
lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.
“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.
“Fred! Oh god - ah!”
Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”
The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”
He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”
It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.
“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”
Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.
“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”
His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.
You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.
Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
“Well shit.”
“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.
Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.
“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”
You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”
Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”
“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”
“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”
You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”
Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.
You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”
After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.
The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.
“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.
He hums in response.
“You’re staying over, right?”
Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.
You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”
“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”
752 notes · View notes
latetaektalk · 4 years
Text
deep end | myg
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“yoongi was bad for you, was only going to hurt you, but you just could never get enough of him, never resist him.”
genre: fuckboy! au, angst, fluff, sexual themes
pairing: yoongi x female reader
word count: 2.283
warnings: cursing, sexual themes, making out, yoongi is a little shit
playlist: august - taylor swift
a/n: yes, this was absolutely inspired by the song august by taylor swift. honestly, i dont know what this is, but yeah. maybe ill turn this into a small drabble series because this is definitely not the end lol
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August
“Your friends must hate me,” Yoongi whispered between kisses, his words almost lost between your lips.
“They don’t.” You didn’t know why you lied, why you tried to convince Yoongi otherwise when both of you knew better. You shimmed around in his lap, your hands fiddling with his leather jacket in a desperate attempt to get more of him, have him even closer.
“Yeah?” Yoongi laughed but didn’t stop kissing you, his hands wandering down your back, inching you closer to him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” You rolled your eyes when he laughed again, interrupting the kiss you had been about to press against his lips. “Fine, maybe they’re not crazy about you.”
“Does that bother you?” Yoongi asked and you shivered when he snuck his cold hands underneath your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt like you weren't sitting in the front seat of his rusty and terribly old car and anybody could walk past and see you two.
You looked at him because it did bother you. Of course, it did. They were still your friends and you cared about what they thought of you and the choices you made. At the same time, you knew that deep down it didn’t matter too much, didn’t matter too much because in the end, you were the one playing this game with him, this game of cat and mouse, this game of supposed meaningless and unattached sex.
It didn’t matter too much because in the end, you got to have Yoongi.
And that made everything worth it, the moment you had him.
“No.” 
You pressed your lips to his again and squeezed your eyes shut, your hands wandering down to his belt in an attempt to get him to drop the topic, but Yoongi just always loved pushing your limits, seeing where that got him.
“You’re a bad liar, baby.” 
You almost froze, almost stopped fiddling with his belt, a flush creeping up to your cheeks. His words were like daggers to your heart. Truths you didn’t want to hear, refused to hear.
“You-”
You abandoned his belt, giving up on trying to figure it out because clearly that wasn’t working, and cut him off by slamming your lips against his. You started working on his leather jacket again, desperate to get it off, but somehow, you ended up being the one with only your skirt and bra on, your legs growing tired and numb from straddling him. 
“I like that though,” Yoongi hummed against your skin as he started leaving wet kisses against your neck.
“What?” you breathed, mind starting to cloud and making it hard for you to focus. You pulled your head back and let your eyes flutter shut, his lips leaving you weak in your knees and everywhere else.
Yoongi stayed at that one spot he knew that always had you melting in his hands, nibbling on your neck the way he knew you enjoyed, turned you putty, weak. 
“I like that you’re a bad liar, baby.”
You ran your hands through your hair and hated how shallow and laboured your breathing was.
“Shut- fuck,” Yoongi bit down on your skin, making you squirm and curse. You tried again, through gritted teeth, “Fucking shut up.”
You felt Yoongi smirk against your skin the way he always did when he was satisfied with himself, proud that he had managed to push your buttons.
“Just because it’s you.”
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You were in the middle of typing up a text when Jennie decided to throw a pillow at you, forcing your phone out of your grasp and the air out of your lungs.
“Ow, what the fuck?” You rubbed your head where the pillow had hit you and sent Jennie a glare. "What was that for?" 
"You're not listening," she hissed and you removed a piece of lint stuck to your jeans.
"Tell me you're not texting dickhead again," Jisoo said and you cringed when you looked at her and saw the half-chewed up chips in her mouth. 
“Stop talking when you’re eating, Ji,” you groaned and held up your hand to block her out of your view. “It’s gross.”
“Grosser than Yoongi?” Jisoo countered and you took the pillow Jennie had thrown at you and chugged it at Jisoo. Unlike you though, she caught it and simply used it to support her head. 
“So, were you? Texting dickhead, I mean,” Jennie asked and swivelled around in your squeaky office chair that used to belong to your brother. She fixed you with the look she knew you hated because it always made you turn away. “Jesus.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked and clutched your phone tightly to your chest because you weren’t sure if Jennie would get up and take it out of your hands. You wouldn’t put it past her. She had done it before.
“Why?” Jennie groaned, ignoring your question. “Why do you keep doing this to you? He fucking sucks! He’s a goddamn fuckboy who’s only gonna use you for sex and drop you the moment some new girl comes around.”
You pursed your lips and pressed through gritted teeth, “It’s not like that. He’s not like-”
“He is like that,” Jennie cut in and shook her head at you. “How many times do we have to tell you to get it, Y/N? He’s no good! You’re just another girl to him. A notch in his stupid fuckboy belt.”
Your hands tightened into fists, so much so that your knuckles started turning white. It was painful, but not worse than Jennie’s words.
You turned to Jisoo. She gave you a much more sympathetic look, but you could see in her eyes that she thought the same way as Jennie. A fact that made you groan and roll your eyes.
“Look, I’m not saying all of that to be mean, babe,” Jennie sighed and you could still hear the irritation dripping from her voice. She tried to be soft and nice, but she couldn’t hide her true feelings. “I-”
“We just don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N,” Jisoo jumped in when Jennie couldn’t finish her sentence and you screwed your eyes shut before letting yourself fall back, the mattress giving in underneath your weight.
“Yeah, we don’t,” Jennie said and got up from your chair, the squeaking making you scrunch up your face. She moved over to you and you felt the mattress dip when she got on it.
“You’ve gotta protect yourself, babe,” Jennie started again and touched your knee, squeezing it like that would help convince you.
“Yeah, you’ve gotta protect yourself,” Jisoo echoed and paused to shift closer to you, her arm wrapping around your middle to pull you into a hug you didn’t reciprocate. “People like Yoongi… they’re never good.”
You could smell the chips on her breath and you wanted to crinkle your nose.
“It’s stupid to get involved with people like Yoongi.”
Slowly, you opened your eyes and when you did, Jisoo offered you a smile, a smile that was meant to cheer you up, but it only made you press your lips together and turn away to look at Jennie. When you did though, she was offering you the same kind of smile and you settled on staring at the ceiling.
All three of you fell into silence and was only interrupted once when Jennie decided to lay down with you and wrap her arm around you as well. After a moment and some thinking, you put your arms around Jennie and Jisoo.
You just lay there, in thought. It was a peaceful moment, a moment you only shared every now and then. A moment you enjoyed despite the minutes before it.
It was all nice until your phone started buzzing violently in your hand and drew everybody’s attention to it. You lifted it to see who it was. Almost instantly, your heart skipped a beat.
Yoongi.
“Don’t,” Jennie warned and sat up when you did. You looked between her and your phone. Yoongi had never called you before, and quite frankly, you didn’t know how to react.
“Y/N, just ignore it,” Jisoo chimed in from behind you and you stared at your phone in your hand, still buzzing like it was a bomb about to explode.
“Y/N, don’t-”
“I’m sorry.”
You picked up the call before Jennie could reach for your phone and decline it. You winced when she let out a long breath through her nose and cursed underneath your breath, but before you could beg her to just understand and that Yoongi and you weren’t that easy, he spoke,
“Meet me behind the mall.”
You blinked and scratched the back of your head, confused.
“Hang up, Y/N,” Jennie hissed underneath her breath and you turned away from her, but she started reaching for your phone, forcing you to stand up and put some distance between you two.
“What?” you said and had to fight to keep your voice steady because Jennie had resorted back to throwing pillows at you.
“You read my text, right?” Yoongi said and you knew he was in his car, the faint humming of the motor so ingrained in you after hours spent in his car, you could always recognise it.
“Yeah, I did,” you said and raised your arm just in time to block the next pillow Jennie threw at you. 
“You started typing, but stopped,” Yoongi continued and said it like you wouldn’t know that.
“For god’s sake, Y/N, hang up,” Jennie hissed and grabbed another pillow.
“Yeah, I did,” you repeated, ignoring her completely as you walked into your adjacent bathroom and closed as well as locked the door behind you before she could throw the pillow at you.
“I asked you if you wanted to go out,” Yoongi said and you slid down the door, pulling your knees close to your chest.
“Yeah, you did,” you said and Yoongi laughed.
“Are those three words the only words you know?” he asked and you chuckled, shaking your head as if he could see you.
“No, I can say more,” you mumbled and you knew a smile was on Yoongi’s lips now. You pressed your phone closer to your ear.
“So,” Yoongi started and you bit on your lip, waiting for him to continue. It took him longer than usual, but there was no wavering in his voice when he did finally speak, “Meet me behind the mall.”
You felt a flush creep up your neck and you had to take a moment to make sure your breathing wasn’t too laboured and your voice too high.
“Is that,” the words still came out shaky, “is that a question or a demand?”
“Whatever you want it to be.”
Your heart practically leaped out of your chest and you were certain, he knew. He knew what his words did to you, what he did to you.
“I’m in front of your dorm.”
“Fuck,” you cursed underneath your breath and tipped back your head, screwing your eyes shut.
“You want me to go?” Yoongi teased.
“No, no,” you said quickly and shook your head, your teeth sinking deeper into your lip. “Don’t go.”
Yoongi hummed and it was scary how perfectly you could picture him right now, the corners of his lips curled up into that familiar smirk, that mischievous glint in his eyes as he stared out the window, waiting for you to come out and jump inside his rusty and terribly old car, his tongue digging around in his cheek with his phone lazily pressed against his ear, the usual leather jacket covering his upper half.
God, you were fucked.
“Then, come out.”
Yoongi hung up and you dropped your head to your chest, cursing internally at him. You stayed on the floor for a handful of seconds before you straightened up and shoved your phone into your pocket.
You opened the door to your bathroom with a heavy sigh, ready to get another pillow thrown at you. So when one did hit you square in the face, you barely flinched, closing and opening your eyes just to see a more than irritated Jennie standing in the middle of your tiny bedroom with her hands on her hip.
Wordlessly, you picked up the pillow and tossed it back onto your bed where Jisoo was still lying in, back to eating her chips.
“I can’t with you, Y/N,” Jennie said with a shake of her head and an audible exhale through her nose. She knew.
You pressed the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth and looked at the floor. You wanted to say something, explain to Jennie that Yoongi… he had power over you. He had you in his grip, and it was tight, almost too tight. But you liked that, you liked that because he made you feel things and ways you had never before. It was exciting, thrilling, addicting.
Yoongi was exciting, thrilling, addicting.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly and rubbed your nose with your hand.
“Just go,” Jennie sighed, sounding so defeated that you had to lift your head and look at her. You couldn’t read her face. A mix of disappointment and irritation was etched into her features, but you weren’t sure who she was disappointed in and irritated by. With you? With Yoongi? With herself maybe? With Jisoo because she didn’t come to back her up much?
“You’re stupid, Y/N,” Jisoo told you at the front door. Jennie had stayed in your bedroom, probably still too angry to see you go.
You walked out.
223 notes · View notes
dirt-cup-draco · 4 years
Text
Draco x Gryffindor!Reader -Please Don’t Cry
I was wondering if you could make a draco x reader like he hates her a lot but once when he made her cry that's when he realized that it was wrong doing that to her and gives her a chance and the rest can be fluffy! Btw Gryffindor reader. I know this may be awkward but it just came to my mind. 😘
Draco was stunned. He didn’t know what to do. He was positive he had made people cry before, that wasn’t in question but this was his first time seeing the consequences of his actions. You were standing in front of him, fists clenched at your sides as your bottom lip trembled, your eyes filling with unshed tears that were about to spill over and stain your cheeks.
“W-wait, I’m sorry, please don’t cry, “ Draco found himself begging as you took a step away from him. He shouldn’t care. You were just a foolish Gryffindor. One that he didn’t know well at all. Maybe that was what bothered him. He had made you cry, torn you down to feel like he did and he didn’t even know a thing about you. Draco didn’t even know your name. 
“Bugger off Malfoy,” You sniffled, shoulder jerking back as he tried to reach for you. What the hell was he supposed to do? Before he could come up with an acceptable apology however you were racing down the corridor, robes billowing behind you as you set a brisk pace towards your common room. How was he supposed to know you were so sensitive? 
Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You were an exchange student, meaning you were his prime target. The fact you were a bloody gryffindor made it all the more pleasurable for him to tear you down but now he was feeling no pleasure in what he had done. You were crying and he felt like a prick.
Later that day he was standing outside of the entrance to your house entrance, back against the opposing wall as he tried to seem casual. It wasn’t necessarily odd to see a slytherin passing by, the charms classroom was nearby, a necessity for every student. However, he did feel out of place. He was the sole shock of green in a corridor filled with gryffindors and ravenclaws. 
When you walked out of your common room your face was clear and fresh again, yet your expression stayed grim. When he called out to you, you froze on the spot, face going pale as you quickened your pace. 
“Hey! Wait!” He asked, setting after you damning himself for not knowing your name. “Slow down! Just let me talk!” Draco chased after you, hand gripping your forearm as you stopped running and whipped around. 
“You’ve said enough!” Ah, there was that fire that was so characteristic of the house you’d been sorted into. You bared your teeth at him like a furious lioness and he had to remind himself how to breathe. 
“I’ve said too much probably but that has never stopped me from running my mouth,” He admitted with a shrug, keeping a tight hold of your arm. “Just let me apologize,” 
“Why so you can feel better about yourself?” You snapped and he found himself growing frustrated. 
“Why won’t you just let me fix my wrongs?” He demanded of you, backing you up against one of the stone pillars lining the corridors. You looked up at him but the intimidating vantage point he held over you seemed to have no affect. 
“Because you don’t deserve the satisfaction,” You snarled. 
“I know I dont!” He growled. “I don’t deserve a lot, that is certain. I don’t deserve all the oppurtunities that fall into my lap because I’m a Malfoy and I don’t deserve the friends I have, even if half of them are as rubbish as I am. I don’t deserve to apologize and I don’t deserve to feel better but I am still going to tell you I am sorry. I may not be a good person but for some reason I-I can’t stand seeing you cry and I don’t even know you,” Draco rambled and you paused, his grip loosening on you as you relaxed. 
You studied him with narrowed eyes but only found genuine regret in his eyes. “You know if you want to apologize, you should know my name,” You said, digging the toe of your shoe into the floor. “It’s Y/N,” 
“Y/N,” He started, eyes locked on yours, “I am truly sorry for making you cry,” 
“Thank you Draco... And you um- you’re not so bad. If you were a bad person you wouldn’t have waited and apologized so yeah, thanks,” You said awkwardly the intensity of the moment vanishing as he took a step back and you realized Draco Malfoy had just had you pinned to the wall while your classmates filtered through the hall. You had forgotten you weren’t alone. 
Draco nodded, a slim smile on his face as he turned away, now embarrassed by how much he’d said but you called out to him softly stopping him in his tracks. “If some of your friends are rubbish you should make new ones, I’m always in the market for a new friend,” You admitted giving him a soft smile. 
It took bravery to reach out to those who had been cruel to you and show them what a difference kindness could take. It took compassion and strength and heart. Draco was starting to admire you. 
“I’d like that,” He found himself answering honestly and he couldn’t help but notice you had quite a nice smile. 
Draco had a new goal in mind. Instead of making you cry, he would start trying to make you smile. 
139 notes · View notes
Text
Ronnie & Joe
Ronnie: [a phone number]
Ronnie: found you your own special plug
Joe: Can’t wait to get gang-raped by whoever this is
Joe: or maybe it’s a phishing scam, what route have you gone down 🤔
Ronnie: route of she can be your number 8 cos youre such a bike
Joe: it’s that kind of hook-up
Ronnie: pay for the gear if you cant get it up soft lad she looks fuck all like your ma
Ronnie: couldnt track down no more of her bastards for you soz
Joe: taking your role that seriously?
Joe: alright
Ronnie: getting out of it
Ronnie: she can babysit you
Joe: she probably lost custody of her own so
Joe: nice of you on all fronts
Ronnie: yeah
Joe: what, your dealer don’t like me or something
Ronnie: how the fuck would i know like
Ronnie: and how would he you legged it out of there soon as he showed
Joe: no shit I did
Ronnie: ordeals over now baby go cry to your new mammy about it
Joe: unlikely
Joe: but it ain’t my ordeal so
Ronnie: they ll swab & treat him he ll be sound
Joe: give a shit about him
Ronnie: if youve got something to say
Joe: I just said it
Joe: I don’t care about him
Ronnie: you dont care about me fuck off with your heroics
Joe: you didn’t want swooping up and saving, don’t mean I don’t give a fuck
Ronnie: your student loan aint gonna cover both our habits youd have me dopesick cause youre fucking jealous that means you dont
Joe: you’re jealous
Joe: and I said, didn’t stop you, didn’t say you had to
Joe: what’s fun about something oozing and itching in your pants, that’s all
Ronnie: of what
Joe: of every boring ex I have or will ever have
Ronnie: you wish
Ronnie: get em in a room together and they aint even jealous of each other
Joe: I know
Joe: x2
Ronnie: you dont know shit mckenna
Joe: so today I’m green
Joe: not the know-it-all smug college kid
Joe: nice to know how to play it
Ronnie: smug is right whenever i aint gonna suck your dick cause you can read music
Joe: that’s all that’s stopping you?
Ronnie: nah remember its the death wish attention whoring & mommy issues
Ronnie: cant both be functioning junkies youd have fuck all else to get a boner about
Joe: how long have you been doing heroin
Ronnie: youve got loads of catching up to do
Joe: yeah, so I don’t know why you’re acting like I’m being high and mighty
Joe: it’s literally been days
Ronnie: cause you are
Joe: no I’m not, just ‘cos I’d rather not suck dick when I have the funds
Joe: would you do it if you had the cash, that’s just stupid
Ronnie: youve been comparing me to any & every cunt since we met
Joe: like you don’t shit on me any and every chance you get
Joe: you were acting like them, the whole none of my shit is real because yours is SO real, that’s her whole bit
Ronnie: you cant stop fucking doing it even now fucks sake
Ronnie: i shit on you for you its not like i have any cunt to compare you to
Joe: alright, if you’re that sensitive about it
Joe: I’ll really stop
Joe: there 🤐
Ronnie: fuck you
Joe: nah, that was a dick move, alright
Joe: let me make it up to you
Ronnie: youre crying shes a patronising cunt guess what youre right there too
Joe: alright, I deserve that
Ronnie: drop dead
Ronnie: yeah its been days days of me giving you whatever the fuck you ask for
Joe: I know
Joe: so what do you want, seriously
Joe: I’ll do it, make it happen, whatever
Ronnie: like fuck can you make anything happen
Ronnie: youre like every other doss cunt i know theres your comparison
Joe: Probably am
Joe: but you’re the only person I’ve met who feels close to whatever the fuck I am
Joe: there’s the truth
Ronnie: whichever of your exes that worked on is more west than either of us
Joe: Oh I can easily be that dickhead and tell you how crazy they all were
Ronnie: go ed
Joe: the second to last one was the worst
Joe: full-on stalked and harassed the last one like, for no reason
Joe: she also messed with all my shit in a way she thought would send me into an OCD spiral because she didn’t get it
Joe: and when she started hooking up with some other kid she’d send me pics like I’d be 💔
Joe: that’s just after, that was all kind of amusing in a boring way, she was less amusing to be with but more mental
Ronnie: shouldve had some tips off her for the stalking bullshit its probably not too late to send her a dm
Ronnie: ones ive got from this is i dont have to bother learning the alphabet cos id be better off fucking with your record collection by smashing it up & child porn does fuck all for you
Joe: that is my thing, turning up uninvited to fuck everything up
Joe: she might go for it
Joe: exactly, both good to know, yeah 😏
Joe: all pretty basic and vanilla but still, annoying as shit
Ronnie: unless you can get me to do it for you yeah
Ronnie: dinners at what like 7
Joe: you’re gonna ruin my happy uni home?
Joe: oh no
Joe: be there be 7, eating at 8, apparently
Joe: time to ‘mingle’ as she put it which sounds suspicious af
Ronnie: fucking hell
Ronnie: thank christ i already hate you
Joe: saves times, energy less so
Joe: your mate is up for it, unless he’s a convincing liar, which I could see
Ronnie: what energy do you want name it theres gear thatll give us it
Ronnie: he is but i cant see the con shes got fuck all any cunt wants other than pasta shapes & mariahs likely on a diet
Joe: 🤤 and not over her appetizers, like
Joe: there’ll only be the 6 of us so we’ll need entertainment
Ronnie: lad flatmates bringing a bitch
Ronnie: shes gonna need something to get her through it or something she can use to end it
Joe: yeah he has a missus
Joe: even though him and Sophie belong together as the most average whitebread couple ever
Ronnie: make it happen then
Joe: where’s my bow and arrow
Joe: their 💘 ain’t my problem
Ronnie: you said you could do whatever and we needed entertainment
Ronnie: put all that money where your mouth is
Joe: you’re well sweet
Joe: you want her to be living her best life
Joe: dunno if I can hack being his shoulder to cry on in the interim
Ronnie: your teeth wont have time to rot before you choke on em talking to me like that
Joe: go on then
Ronnie: you owe me i dont owe you
Joe: I thought you’d ask for something better
Joe: but your loss
Ronnie: yours youre thinking about it
Joe: I get it, you want it to be hell living here
Ronnie: i dont wanna have to ask
Joe: for what
Ronnie: anything
Joe: why not
Ronnie: you think you can read my mind or some shit
Joe: I’d like to
Joe: and I think you get me, and yeah, I think I get you more than the bullshit mommy issues attention whore comment that was to get a reaction
Joe: I don’t think we’re twin flames just because we share some DNA, I’m not that kind of delusional, believe it or not
Ronnie: cause weve shared a needle though yeah
Joe: I get it, another kid with a habit, you’ve met hundreds
Joe: it is different though
Joe: tell me it isn’t
Ronnie: different cos its a habit you didnt have days ago
Joe: it’s not your fault
Joe: for good or bad
Joe: you didn’t spike me without asking
Ronnie: i didnt say that
Ronnie: i said thats why its different
Joe: yeah
Ronnie: nobody did any of this shit for me i dont know why im doing it for you
Joe: do you want to, or do you think you need to
Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter
Joe: you either fuck with me, you like fucking with me or you think you’ve got to protect me or some bollocks
Ronnie: protect you from the needle i stuck in your arm yeah that makes loads of sense
Joe: from getting a bad dose, being beat up by one of your dealers
Ronnie: i just wanted a front row seat
Ronnie: im not gonna get one when your family finds out
Joe: that’s fine by me
Joe: you reckon they’ll fly me home for an intervention then?
Joe: shouldn’t be surprising how oblivious they are
Ronnie: i dont care what they do to try & fix it youll be at rock bottom by then
Joe: they won’t try, they don’t
Joe: just because I weren’t shooting up doesn’t mean I haven’t been doing plenty other fucked shit for ages without it ever being a conversation
Joe: one of the kids that they took in, is a walking skeleton
Joe: can’t get her to eat, some reason don’t do anything but try to reason with her like she’s reasonable, never mind the rest
Ronnie: no shit they dont i was proof of it before you or her
Ronnie: in the same town with the same name she fucking gave me and still out of sight out of mind
Joe: precisely
Joe: so if you’re hoping fucking me up will get her to come about then you shouldn’t bother, honestly
Joe: save yourself that disappointment
Ronnie: it aint about her paying attention
Joe: good
Ronnie: you wanna know me i only want you to know what it feels like
Joe: then let’s do it
Ronnie: nah i was rem to reckon it was worth shit
Ronnie: it aint
Ronnie: you aint
Ronnie: youre never gonna have your head wrecked how mine is and i cant be arsed to put the time in fucking you up in the selfish special way i need when you keep pure loving it like
Joe: is that not indicative of how I’m already quite fucked enough
Joe: just because it’s not abandonment based
Joe: what normal cunt would love any of this, even contact you again after the first
Ronnie: fuck no
Ronnie: youre living your best life and it makes me wanna hang myself
Joe: Christ, you’re up yourself, aren’t you
Ronnie: &
Joe: you want me to roll my sleeves up again and show you the recent damage?
Ronnie: yeah
Joe: [pics]
Ronnie: [obvs gotta send him some back]
Joe: [a straight up new one like just did it]
Ronnie: [ofc she has to also like this is a competition]
Joe: [hope you started small so you have somewhere to go ‘cos the vibe]
Ronnie: [knowing y’all you didn’t but it won’t stop you and I will be forever on edge]
Joe: [so grim, don’t pass out]
Ronnie: [or end up needing stitches]
Joe: [probably do them yourselves, ick]
Joe: do you fucking get it yet
Ronnie: why do you care
Joe: why do you think
Ronnie: i keep telling you i dont
Joe: braindead sounds ideal
Ronnie: horse girl not about to suffocate you
Joe: she would if I let her, like
Joe: 🍈🍈
Ronnie: wait til theres a chance ill choke on my vomit next time christ
Joe: so lay back and I’ll tell you some more
Ronnie: ok go
Joe: [go on about Sophie in a way I shall not even bother but let us assume it is crude and rude af]
Ronnie: [we’re not into poor Soph but they clearly are]
Joe: [just fuck and get it out the way lads, so rude to everyone else rn]
Ronnie: [honestly, but hopefully at this dinner party because Jamie jealousy will be off the charts]
Joe: [Charlie gon have to keep quiet ‘til you home lmao]
Joe: Any luck?
Ronnie: got no pasta shapes in my system have i
Ronnie: but why the fuck are you not lurking to save me
Joe: you want me to swallow the bile for you then, okay
Joe: the last one looked deep
Ronnie: deep enough if you wanna pussy out and spit instead
Joe: I don’t
Joe: where are you
Ronnie: dorothys
Joe: he in?
Joe: if I have to show him it’s brotherly concern you’ll only die quicker
Ronnie: nosey cunt wouldve stopped me
Joe: Yeah
Joe: I can say sorry if you want or I can just come patch you up and not lie first
Ronnie: i dont need your help
Joe: I know
Joe: purely wanna save you for my own complex and to be loving life even harder
Ronnie: wank off about the sos from the other day thats it i cant top you carrying me out til the bleeding stops
Joe: I’m coming over
Joe: you’ve got time to lock the door if you really don’t want me to come in
Joe: can get my own shattered glass without breaking his windows
Ronnie: he must like you to have given you his address
Ronnie: but not enough to overshare the door dont lock cos i broke it 💔
Joe: or am I better stalker than you give credit
Joe: thanks for the tip, baby
Ronnie: youd have been waiting for me to get here not the other way round
Joe: You do want me to read your mind
Joe: maybe a lobotomy will help
Ronnie: hot
Ronnie: reading your mind you want me to pass out before you fuck me but its not that deep
Joe: the wound or the vIbEzzZ
Ronnie: this your coming out cos you sound like charlie
Joe: just trying to turn you off, don’t want blood to gush out
Ronnie: liar youd be made up to see that
Joe: not hiding in the bushes yet
Joe: slow down
Ronnie: youre used to being the big brother i get it
Joe: Something like that
Ronnie: i know how to ride a bike without stabilisers or whatever the fuck
Joe: and tie your shoes
Joe: it’s alright, we’ve established I’m not a paedo
Joe: what can’t you do then
Ronnie: err what a nonce would say
Ronnie: read music we also fucking established
Joe: you teach me how to shoot myself up, I’ll teach you how to
Ronnie: not a fair swap i dont need to learn how
Joe: You don’t wanna be a babysitter either, so you’ve said
Ronnie: you dont like me any more or what
Joe: Of course I do
Joe: You got me my own dealer first
Ronnie: you asked me to 1st
Joe: How did I?
Ronnie: what else is ? for a plug without giving a fuck if ive rattled myself into a ditch
Joe: If I talked to you as much as I felt like
Joe: You’d tell me to fuck off more than you already do
Joe: I’ve got no clue where the line is, how much you want me to care
Ronnie: what line
Ronnie: i dont want you to care
Joe: Tough shit
Joe: I didn’t ask you to get me a dealer
Ronnie: you fucking did
Joe: I just didn’t wanna see you suck dick on my behalf, alright, that’s all
Joe: what you do for yourself is your business
Ronnie: calm down nothing i do is for you
Joe: 👌
Ronnie: dont call her then
Joe: you on commission?
Ronnie: 🖕
Joe: If I do, you’ll still have to see me
Ronnie: youll see me bleed out on the kitchen floor 1st
Joe: You’re a pro, I know you’re being overly-dramatic
Ronnie: at opening as many veins as itll take to not have to see you again yeah
Joe: to make me hurry*
Joe: I’m on the tube
Joe: you have to live in the middle of nowhere
Ronnie: no fixed address i told you
Joe: ❗️
Joe: if there’s a break-up or a thruple, you can have the extra room
Joe: makes sense now
Ronnie: it dont make sense you reckon we can afford any extras however far out
Joe: like you said, she’ll get homesick and chuck it in even if Marc won’t dump his girlfriend
Ronnie: if she does youll be homeless too like unless his missus is gonna cover the costs of the en suite for you
Joe: you can have my room, it’s the smallest
Joe: they can have the en-suite palace and I’ll take theirs, which is not next to the others 👌
Ronnie: not that youve thought loads about it
Joe: if you heard her disney playlist everyday, you’d think about it as well
Ronnie: id think about killing her or myself not a cosy little bed swap
Ronnie: shed never hack living with me nor would you
Joe: well that thought is never far from the front of my mind
Joe: if you need the bed, you know it’s yours
Ronnie: get it through your head i need fuck all from you
Joe: yeah, yeah
Ronnie: theres this way of living when youre not inside your ma in every possible sense course you aint heard about it
Joe: you need to prove you’re self-sufficient ‘cos no one’s ever given a shit about you but Charlie and the other one
Joe: I’m aware you’ve made it to your old age without me, you’re alright
Ronnie: i need to be it the only proofs im not dead yet baby
Ronnie: you need me to be old cos im not in a fucking coma & you cant get it up else
Joe: I’d rather be in the coma myself but you can be too
Joe: not calling dibs
Ronnie: oldest gets 1st dibs
Joe: *until the youngest cries about it so much you get told to give in to shut ‘em up
Ronnie: try me
Joe: you know you can’t hack my crying
Joe: does your head in SO much
Ronnie: save it for when you need lube or horse girl is gonna be coming after you with the leftover glue so you can never fucking leave her
Joe: come at you with the needle and sew us together, babe
Joe: unlucky
Ronnie: more than unlucky if i cant bust a stitch open to be the dead girl you want
Joe: you’re the dead girl I want already come on
Ronnie: til i teach you how to 💉 yourself
Joe: nah
Ronnie: 💘
Joe: looking well deformed these days, my one
Ronnie: could cut it out know youd be made up for the matching needlework
Joe: you play mad professor I’ll play corpse
Ronnie: long as i dont have to play nice
Joe: know what you take me for, actually, but no
Joe: obviously not
Ronnie: cant take you anywhere even if i did wanna
Joe: god imagine the dent in your street cred, sis
Ronnie: if i could cry i obviously would
Joe: repression or fucked tear ducts from all the 😭 you been doing
Ronnie: what im that baby faced youre taking me for a newborn now
Joe: nah, mr i don’t fuck kids here, remember
Joe: plus kids are always calling 999 by mistake and they’d get there before me
Joe: maybe, depends how many people have stabbed other people today
Ronnie: id have got the numbers up but ive been busy like
Joe: gotta make time for you, babes
Joe: it’s called self-care
Ronnie: ask me what with
Ronnie: shittest stalker ever you are
Joe: go on
Joe: school us
Ronnie: cant cry cos when i was linking you with a plug you dont want i was getting myself linked with your meds
Ronnie: best guess as a better stalker than you & less basic white girl than your crazy ex
Joe: 💡 fairplay
Joe: won’t tell you any other side-affects, see if you can guess ‘em right
Ronnie: i wasnt gonna take em but you want me to get you so bad
Joe: yeah misunderstood white boy is selling less these days
Joe: help a brother out
Ronnie: fuck all has happened so i probably cant
Joe: 💔 oh well
Joe: they’re nothing exciting, even though I managed to get the highest dosage they’ll do
Ronnie: maybe mines off for not giving you the benefit of the doubt when i could continue reckoning youre such a pussy
Joe: you’ll forget by tomorrow, no problem
Ronnie: neither brother is gonna let me if they walk in on me microdosing theyll reckon its a getting well party and get the deccies out
Joe: only so many times you can just kidding that ‘fore it gets old
Joe: we’ll go out, when I get there
Ronnie: where you kidnapping me to baby
Joe: I know enough to know it’s all wrong turns and blindfolds, not giving you a map
Ronnie: if its a&e no cunts finding your body even with a map
Joe: piss off
Ronnie: give us a clue
Joe: I’ll mark it with an X if you do me
Ronnie: if you ever fucking get here
Joe: if we were sewn together this wouldn’t be a problem
Ronnie: wanting to look like twins so nobodyll give a shit that you wanna fuck me would be something youd think about on the tube mckenna
Joe: they run in my old man’s DNA so have to look for those bastards instead
Joe: all I know about hers is addiction
Ronnie: course he does fuck alls your own idea
Ronnie: if hes got a sister even a meff nancy drew like youll be able to find bastards they had together
Joe: loads, Catholic, remember
Joe: twins kid is black though so process of elimination
Ronnie: cute how that runs in your family too like
Joe: guess so
Joe: not like it’s that crazy a concept
Ronnie: not like youve ever met an irish catholic who werent a saint yeah
Joe: it’s a fucked place to live
Joe: really third world in that respect
Ronnie: your real da is who you wanna look for if hes got no bastards going about its cos he cant knock anyone up
Joe: that your all men are pigs stance
Joe: alright courtney calm down
Joe: I’m out now anyway, don’t need a real mum or dad to come rescue us from the priests and that
Ronnie: nah its a fact unless his twin kept going up the backstreet or he was only sticking it in her other 2 holes
Joe: they didn’t really grow up together
Joe: he left when he was 15
Joe: maybe she was a late bloomer, happy days
Ronnie: 💔 your ma wasn’t then i wouldnt be here
Joe: no dig about how you’re dying now anyway ‘cos I’m taking so long?
Joe: you must be fading fast and not just being a dramatic bitch
Joe: good thing I’m in [wherever we ended up locating y’all] now
Ronnie: shut up i said its not that deep
Ronnie: youre the dramatic bitch legging it here for a fucking scratch
Joe: you wanted me to
Ronnie: you want to i dont give a shit
Joe: right, that’s what I meant
Ronnie: you can stop with the gay shit i told you hes not here
Joe: gays don’t own sarcasm
Ronnie: they own getting attached to cunts fast who dont care
Joe: awh, you being replaced rn?
Ronnie: horse girl wishes
Joe: Can’t catch a break or a man that one
Ronnie: after a pity fuck with you who knows what shed catch
Joe: you wanna infect her by-proxy, you’re so blatant
Ronnie: i shouldve got you to bring her my bloods everywhere
Joe: adding her puke to the mix would make it interesting, sure
Joe: bet she knows first aid
Ronnie: if youre too pussy to break my ribs yourself get back on the tube
Joe: threaten me with a good time
Ronnie: i just did
Joe: without meaning it, yeah
Ronnie: try and hurt me i mean it
Joe: [why do y’all always set the tension so high lads lmao, we know but]
Ronnie: [me and my boo here like calm down you can’t hook up yet but they are both like !!!!]
Joe: [shouldn’t have let you get on that train sir but you would so]
Ronnie: [I shouldn’t let her open her mouth ever but here we are]
Joe: [forreal lmao]
Ronnie: [gotta draw an x on him in her blood when he shows up before we can do a more permanent one however we are either as a scar or tattoo so soz for increasing the tension even more lol]
Joe: [just got to stare at her for ages and then shove her away very dramatically ‘cos you can’t, head through to whichever room she was bleeding in to assess/gawp at]
Ronnie: [she’s gotta lol like well if that’s the best you can do at trying to hurt me I’m not worried]
Joe: [‘whaddya use?’ and just going through this flat as if you’ve been here before/were invited by anyone but Ronnie vaguely because manners can’t matter when we’ve gone this far already]
Ronnie: ['what, you didn't
touch yourself enough on the tube?' but we are obvs showing him whatever we did use because it's just another way to flirt and we can use it to make that x happen so]
Joe: [shakes head ‘spill too much and they emergency stop’ and a look like do I look like I wanna be on a psychward but in a 😏 don’t answer that way, doing our own tallies with it, of course]
Ronnie: ['we're walking then' like where are you taking me don't get comfy bitch]
Joe: [little disbelieving lol like excuse me princess ‘your carriage was unavailable’
Ronnie: ['no shit the horse is dead busy']
Joe: [‘I ain’t taking you to a stable’]
Ronnie: ['that's where we ain't going, now tell me where the fuck we are' because we're like an excited kid about this]
Joe: [it’s cute and we clearly think so even if we’re distracting ourselves with this self-harm so we don’t go too far, unrelated but I haven’t thought where yous are going lmao but I’m vibing something London but something she wouldn’t have done, something music related, also if it has like, kid vibes, bonus, I’ll have to look so just keeping tight-lipped to be annoying and surveying the bloody carnage he’s now added to ‘you want to clean up?’]
Ronnie: [it'd be cute if there was something like thinktank but for music instead of science but idk if that exists anyways in answer to that question she's just gonna remove her top or whatever like yeah it do have blood on even though we know that's not what he means because we're still in a flirty mood despite how annoying his non reply is]
Joe: [that’s what I’m vibing but likewise have no idea, I’m sure there is shit though and you could find it Joseph, anyway, truly the this is fine meme about that ‘cos you can’t turn away 😳 but also boy don’t, moving like you’re gonna come close to her though]
Ronnie: [soz Charlie cos she shamelessly threw her top on the floor and isn't gonna clean up any of this blood even on herself like I literally should say she goes to the sink and then to get clean clothes but instead we all know she's just gonna take Joe's jacket or whatever and put that on, thank god he's all about the layers]
Joe: [god bless the grunge
aesthetic, ‘do you do it in front of him?’ and touching the cuts that are still showing ‘cos you know there’s some still, and it is like when and where do you do this when you do not have a room lmao]
Ronnie: ['yeah' leaving it up to him whether he wants to think it's in an attention whore way cos we're still annoyed at that call out lol but realistically it's just because of how long they've known each other and how they be living, she's not actively trying to upset Charlie that much most of the time]
Joe: [‘does he do it?’ ‘cos we can’t imagine it from the little we know but also can’t imagine him just chilling if he isn’t as fucked as them]
Ronnie: [the facial expression equivalent of his amused lol earlier because no]
Joe: [dropping it even though you find this odd like don’t worry boy, the tea is he is getting over it and wanting her to stop, pulling the jacket sleeve to take her out the door like come on]
Ronnie: ['he knows what'll happen if he tries to stop me' cos you can't tell me that when they were younger he didn't do exactly that and she went ballistic but more importantly HOW DARE YOU BOO because that is 1000% a Fraze move and I'm dead]
Joe: [yes I thought it was legit for a parallel, enjoy the long trip back to central guys]
Ronnie: [idk how we are gonna stop you hooking up to fill the time other than the other people in close proximity lol]
Joe: [maybe a uni/work obligation can come in and he has to go like legit ‘cos that’d kill this off]
Ronnie: [personally devastated that means an iou for this cute date but I love how fuming she would be at never finding out where they were going]
Ronnie: [not to mention the not at all casual and public domestic they’d have would be such a fat mood and show she cares when she’s literally like umm what the fuck do you mean you’re leaving]
Joe: [love how blatant we both are individually]
Ronnie: [hard same]
Joe: They sprung that rehearsal on us last minute
Joe: I already said, I’d give you the funds and you could go do whatever
Ronnie: and i told you to go fuck yourself
Ronnie: or your cello
Joe: I wouldn’t have wasted my time let alone yours if I knew that was gonna happen
Joe: how would you go about fucking a cello, exactly
Ronnie: waste more of your own time figuring it out its your raging hard on for it
Joe: I can’t not go
Joe: they make you sign a bloodoath when you get in basically
Joe: no excuses
Ronnie: youd have found an excuse fast enough if id stuck a needle in your arm
Joe: no, I wouldn’t, ‘cos it wasn’t an option
Joe: there was already enough damage to hide
Ronnie: i dont give a shit what options youve got
Joe: right, tell it to the crowd that amassed, they might believe you a tiny bit more than I do
Joe: I’ll make it up to you, okay
Ronnie: thats what soft cunts wanna hear when you cant hide no more & since you reckon you wont be getting forced into treatment you get to keep your gob shut for all that being sorry bullshit
Joe: make it into something it ain’t ‘cos you can’t hack hearing it
Ronnie: i dont wanna hear from you end of
Joe: alright
Joe: see you around then
Ronnie: 🖕
1 note · View note
jishyucks · 5 years
Text
9:30pm | Han Jisung
Tumblr media
genre: fluff, some light angst, bulleted scenario
wc: 4.5k
summary: The absence of Jisung causes Y/N to realize feelings she didn’t know were there
m.list
it was probably the fifth time today that you felt something hit your shoulder
you look over to find a small crumpled up piece of paper sitting with others on the floor before you lifted your head to see Han Jisung preparing another bunch 
“explain to me why you’re doing this” You tried to keep quiet as the teacher was up at the front reading a novel out loud, the rest of the students following along
he didn’t reply. instead he looked back at you with narrowed eyes and a small mischievous grin spread across his face
you watch as his wrist bent back, about to throw the ball
“Don’t you fucking dare Han Jisung,,,” you cussed, making sure your face was hidden behind it the book in your hands
he mockingly held a finger up to his lips and flicked the paper ball at your hand, a quiet snicker leaving his mouth through his proud smile
you gritted your teeth, clearly annoyed. this morning hadn’t necessarily been the best for you due to a car mishap and jisung was literally pushing it at this point
(usually you could tolerate Jisung and his annoying ass)
now that you had thought about it, you literally had no idea why he’d started doing this shit to you
he’d do it in the halls, in classes you had with him, and on the occasions when seungmin gave you rides
seungmin was a good friend of both of you but the reason why you hadn’t made a friendship with jisung was because seungmin wasn’t annoying and he was
it was actually too bad since you would’ve honestly liked him as a friend but he was literally too annoying to actually properly talk to
jisung had only started these antics back in sophomore year and you had to live through the annoying ass interactions for two years
so now it’s senior year and you were almost – ALMOST – at your breaking point right now and jisung really wasn’t making it any better
the bell cut off your thoughts and on impulse you gathered your things, stuffed them into your bag and yeeted out of the English classroom, deciding that jisung didn’t need the attention as you walked straight to the lunch room
seungmin was already seated at the table with hyunjin and felix
you grinned, sighing out in relief that you finally had other people to talk to and distract you from jisung who would probably be there, too, at any given moment
“im so glad it’s lunch,” you huffed. you plopped into the seat in front of seungmin and swung out the lunch that you’d prepared that morning
“lemme guess” seungmin drummed his fingers against the cafeteria table, “jisung’s been ‘annoying’ you again?”
you nodded, “why put quotations for annoying?”
seungmin shrugged, “maybe because he’s not really trying to annoy you?”
“what do you mea-“
“yay you’re all here!”
you feel him take the only empty spot beside you but you choose not to look up and acknowledge him actually sitting there
you were straight up done with his shit
“guess what y/n” he started
you don’t reply verbally but you decided to just look at him to make sure he knew you were listening
he held up a whole ziploc bag of mini paper balls and the sight caused you to groan out an ugly sound
“I told you to quit it jisung,,, if you don’t I’m actually up for swinging at you,” you mumbled, chewing your food almost immediately after
“you can’t reach my head anyways,” he retorted with a snort
seungmin, hyunjin, and felix held in laughs
you hear the bag open as it rustled softly
you keep your head forward and listened to whatever seungmin was saying while you chowed down the lunch that you’ve been waiting to eat all day
That’s when you felt that kid throw a ball of paper
sure, it was just a piece of dead tree crumpled up into a sphere shape. It’s not like it hurt or anything but the CONSTANT throwing jisung had been doing since the morning was getting on your nerves and you were not here for it
“can you not” you say just above a whisper though it was loud enough for only jisung to hear it. you wanted to keep your calm and not get the car mishap in the way of your feelings too but adding jisung and that together = an angry and annoyed you
apparently he chose to continue throwing the little pieces of shits at you and you were sitting there basically dumbfounded at him
he’s a grown ass teen and he chooses to act like a 5th grader?
you were || <- THIS fucking close to losing it. If he throws one mo-
a small baby sounding thump had come from the last ball jisung had thrown
you turn your head towards him and found him bending down to recollect the balls hes used as can reuse
“jisung for the last fucking time stop”
the mood that you tried to keep stable basically broke as the pit of your stomach began to boil
“you’re lucky because I need to pick these up before I start again” he tittered
“jisung im being serious right now,” you breathed in deeply trying to keep you calm but that didn’t work at all as he pulled himself back up and tossed one at your forehead
“tht was a mistake,” felix mumbled. The three watched as this went down
“jisung? Don’t you understand that im straight up annoyed with you? Sometimes I don’t even want to sit here because of you! I don’t understand why you’ve been doing this to me and only me the past few years like I’m some sort of joke or target or game that you decided to play. The smile on your face proves that you enjoy it. Can’t you see that I don’t enjoy it? That’s basically bullying.”
you were shook at yourself but jisung had just ignited a fire inside of you and you couldn’t help but say everything that you’ve been holding in this whole time 
jisung was still sat facing you and the smile he had on his face had faded
you, for some reason, felt bad at the fact that you pulled his smile right off of his face but there was no way you were turning soft right now
jisung’s head hung low by his neck and he was fiddling with the bag of paper balls in his hand
“I-I didn’t know you felt that way,,, truly. You never said anything like how it was bothering you to that point,,, I-I really thought you found it funny, too, and it was some kinda funny thing between us,” he stated quietly
the table fell silent and there was a brief pause that wasn’t awkward nor comfortable
you felt your heart beating fast and you felt the sensation of guilt in your stomach and chest
“im gonna go... im sorry y/n” he finally said. He gathered his lunch stuff and threw them into his bag softly
none of you guys said a word, tho you really wanted to apologize for lashing out
curse that car mishap. now you accidentally hurt the boy’s feelings
“shit” was what you just said
“shit indeed” seungmin tried to lighten the mood with a small chuckle but that really didn’t help
“I feel like shit even if he’s been the same way the past 2 years,” you say guiltily
“Except he didn’t know he was being shit and you knew you were being shit,” hyunjin pointed out
“not helping” you looked at him with a sad expression
“just apologize”
,,,,
you slumped in the passenger seat of seungmin’s car, the events of lunch still playing in your head
seungmin started the vehicle and began to pull out of the parking spot
“wait isn’t jisung getting a ride with you?”
“nope, he said he’s gonna take the bus instead”
you felt the guilt build up even higher and you frowned at the information
“I think I see him at the stop, cmon, pick him up,” you insisted
“I already insisted on driving him but he told me he needs space,” seungmin reasoned, “and I need to tell you something that I promised someone I wouldn’t tell but I think this is the perfect moment—
he looked over to see you following jisung with your head as you drove past
— to tell you about it”
“is this going to make feel even more guilty than I already am bc I genuinely care about jisung’s feelings right now”
“I think so?” Seungmin’s head tilted a bit like a smol baby puppy
“you think so? why not a definite answer?” Now you were curious as to whatever this was
“because I’d be shook if I were you...”
“okay now I really want to know...”
seungmin looked at you and smirked before facing forward as the stop light changed to green
“i honestly don’t know how you’ll react to this. You hate jisung”
“this is about jisung?”
seungmin nodded
“I-I dont hate jisung... I just think it’s annoying like all the stuff he does. If he stops that shit I honestly think we’d be good friends” you shrug
you hadn’t said this out loud before and it made you feel weird but it was the truth
“hmm interesting” seungmin snickered
“k now tell me~~” you whined
“I’ll tell you when we get to your house so I can drive the fuk away once I tell you,” seungmin stated as if he strategically planned out some sort of battle plan
“why would you need to drive away? shit it’s bad isn’t it?”
seungmin just shrugged and chose to stay silent
you huffed and turned your body towards the door
why would seungmin feel the need to exit a conversation if it wasn’t bad?
the moment you’ve been waiting for had come and seungmin slowly pulled up into your driveway
you cut to the chase and told him to spit it out or “I’ll fight you”
“First of all I was going to and second, you can’t even”
seungmin turned the music down and awkwardly maneuvered his body so he was sitting with his body partly facing yours
you raise your brows, a questioning look appearing clearly on your face
“remember at lunch when I told you how jisung’s not really trying to annoy you?”
you let out a hum as a response and gestured for him to proceed
“he’s not trying to annoy you,,, well in a way he is but that’s not his main motive. His main goal is to catch your attention and I guess he did a horrible job”
“why would he want my attention?” your mind was literally blank and confused
“damn you’re slow” seungmin tsked and shook his head disappointment
“he likes you, y/n. you weren’t supposed to hear that from me but I figured it’ll help fix this whole situation.”
you were sorta stunned at this point and you didnt know how to respond to the indirect confession
why would this help the situation when Jisung would be back tomorrow anyways
and your heart somewhat stopped? like dead nothing but you didn’t know what that meant.
guilt? feelings? of what? HA you didn’t know so you just ignored it
you nodded and smiled weakly before getting out of the car, a tiny thank you merely leaving your mouth
you hear seungmin leave as you entered your door, nothing but questions circling your mind
,,,,,
“screw you” you say through your phone
your eyelids were partly covering your eyes and the moisture in your throat was absent
“you call me at 3 in the morning just to say screw you?” seungmin replied groggily
“you drilled jisung’s feelings into my head and I can’t stop thinking about it–“
“and?”
“and? dude it was already bad in the first place that I made him walk out like that but now that I know he has a crush on me? that makes me feel even worse.”
“I thought you were annoyed with him?” seungmin whispered
“I-I am but,,, ughshjdj”
“goodnight y/n”
you didn’t even get to say anything as seungmin hung up
,,,,
you woke up with bags under your eyes rip
the first thing you told yourself was to apologize to jisung and maybe...
your mom knocked on your to make sure that you were awake bc seungmin would be picking you up in a bit
you really hoped he’d have jisung there since it would be easier to apologize that way instead of tracking him down
you were wrong tho as you found seungmin alone in his car
“you’re not driving jisung?” was the first thing you said
“good morning to you too..”
you hummed and plopped into the passenger’s seat, buckling your seatbelt shortly after
“he refused... didn’t think he’d still be affected from yesterday. thts not the jisung I know. he would be back to his usual self even after something like that,” seungmin uttered, “guess you really hurt his lil heart”
you sensed the teasing tone in seungmin’s voice as he backed out of the driveway
“shut up I feel guilty and you know it,,,”
seungmin let out a small laugh and shook his head at you
at school you decided to spend it normally but also you were looking for jisung in order to apologize
the few times you actually saw him, he was at the end of the hall and when you called out for him he hurriedly skrrted a different way and then he was gone as if he disappeared into thin air
usually he’d come up to you and mess up your hair while you guys were walking opposite directions
in the class you had with him, he sat near the front instead at the back beside you and
jisung didn’t show up at lunch and the way you were constantly looking at the door made it obvious to the others you were looking for him
“he isn’t riding with us again, isn’t he” you guessed. you could see jisung’s head of blonde hair among other people at the bus stop and you didn’t know why but you felt sorta sad that he was actually keeping it up
seungmin was right, this wasn’t jisung and at this point you didn’t feel just guilt but you sorta missed him too
it’s only been a day but tbh you were growing so used to the daily dose of jisung just being loud and being there the past few years that his absence was so obvious and you didn’t like it
“you know what I noticed today?” seungmin asked
“what,” your answer was monotone, your attention on the screen of your phone
“you seemed to miss jisung,,, if not miss then like,,, you just didn’t like him not being there,” you could hear the growing smile in seungmin’s voice
you mentally cursed, yeah you had the thoughts of not liking him not being there but you didn’t need the confirmation that seungmin provided
“what’s that supposed to mean?” The drive was quick and seungmin was already at your house
“you can figure that out, you’re a big girl now” he winked and then playfully pushed you out the car
“seungmin I swear you always do this and it never ends up well for me” you retorted with a grunt in your voice
“bye y/n” seungmin yelled before you threw the door closed
it’s been almost a week since the incident and jisung was surprisingly still keeping it up
which honestly was weird as hell since he was one clingy mf
it wasn’t like you didn’t want to apologize for your words but you literally couldn’t
jisung was so out of reach and every chance that you got, he dodged that shit
you didn’t mentally or physically know it but you were actually starting to long for him now and you just straight up missed him
you DIDNT know this though, not until you texted seungmin
the digital clock that sat on your bedside table displayed 9:19 pm and you just finished the assignment that was given to you that day
your mind was now moving towards the situation you were seemingly stranded in right now
could I possibly like jisung?
Wait no that’s gross I just miss him, as friend. That’s different
you groaned out loud and grabbed your phone, sending seungmin a text
[9:22] y/n: yo I have a question
[9:22] minnie: sure what is it
[9:23] y/n: what did you mean the other day
[9:23] y/n: when you said that shit about me missing him
[9:23] y/n: and don’t lie to me seungmin you know you were trying to hint something
[9:26] minnie: dude you know
[9:26] minnie: I know you know it
[9:27] minnie: its pretty obvious
you heart was constantly skipping beats because it honestly couldn’t be
you really hoped it was true and that you weren’t just feeling this because you felt bad for jisung
[9:28] y/n: yea but I need someone to say it
[9:28] y/n: i don’t trust myself
you huffed and put the front of your phone face down onto your bed
maybe I do? it wouldn’t be bad if I did right?
you phone buzzed which caught you off guard
why were you making a big deal out of this? It’s just feelings oh my gad
[9:30] minnie: you like him
shit-oh-my-gad
that was it
you pressed your lips into a thin line and felt the pit of your stomach bubble
[9:31] y/n: thanks
[9:31] y/n: this isnt just guilt talking right?
[9:32] minnie: from my perspective?
[9:32] y/n: that’s better than my perspective, you basically know me better than I know myself
[9:33] minnie: okay
[9:34] minnie: I think that jisung grew on you at some point
[9:34] minnie: when this first started, you were actually fuming and shit
[9:34] minnie: like it was actually really scary
[9:34] minnie: then you softened up after a while and you just tried to keep that image so it wouldn’t show tht u did
[9:35] minnie: at first I thought I was just overthinking but once I noticed you looking every 3 secs at the door for jisung or you actually asked bout him being there or sum, that said it all
[9:35] minnie: so no I don’t think it’s guilt talking, don’t feel bad
[9:35] minnie: you just didn’t notice bc you’re really stupid
you felt relieved at seungmin’s words
maybe he was right, maybe you did grow soft but you simply hadn’t noticed
[9:36] y/n: thanks minnie, now I just fucked more by telling him off the other day
[9:36] y/n: also don’t call me stupid
[9:37] minnie: talk to him, it’s obvious that he’s forcing himself at this point
[9:37] minnie: we’re basically his only friends. You really think he could spend this whole time alone at school
[9:37] minnie: he still talks to me tho, just talk to him
[9:38] y/n: I will
your plan was that if jisung managed to avoid you during the day, you’d talk to him after school
you contemplated whether you should  just apologize or apologize and tell him how you felt
the latter seemed like so much and you didn’t even know if he liked you still after the incident
seungmin smiled down at you when you quietly sat in the passenger’s
“good morning” he greeted. he backed out of the driveway and started on his way
“morning” you replied with a monotone voice, thoughts all on what you were going to say to jisung
“gonna talk to jisung?”
“yeah...” you unconsciously began to fiddle with the zipper of your bag, “do you know if he still,, likes me? Idk whether I should say I like him too or just apologize.”
seungmin let out an airy laugh that made you want to smack him but you restrained yourself
“last time I talked to him I think he did,” seungmin kept his eyes on the road
“when was that?” you felt like deflating like a balloon
“last night”
you almost jumped out of the car window at that answer. you were ecstatic yet at the same time scared
“liar” you let out
“I swear, you can check my texts if you want, unless you don’t wanna see him sulking over you hurting him”
yikers
so the decision was made. apologize, explain, then confess and explain that too
,,,,
morning was eventless. jisung was sat at the front near the door again
you sorta figured it was to get out just as the bell rings
there was no way you would be given the chance to talk to him so that sucked ass
lunch, he was gone again obviously
Maybe after school was best? It was easier that way.
“I can force him to get a ride with me or something,,,” seungmin suggested
he saw the look on your face the one he’s been seeing this whole week
you agreed even though you knew it wouldn’t work, it was better than nothing, and you never know
“I’ll say you’re riding with me.” seungmin seemed to have it all planned but you knew jisung was too smart for this
you nodded and smiled weakly, “it’ll be a good try but i dont think it’ll work”
“We’ll see. You never know.”
It just so happened that once you got to seungmin’s car after school, there was no jisung in sight
you shifted your view to the bus stop where you’d normally see the boy as well, but he was not there either
“he said he’d be in the spare room down the fine arts hall,” seungmin stated. He could read you like a book.
Your face screamed confusion
“do you think i should go there?” you shook your head and opened the car door, “you know what? This can wait tomorrow…”
“just go, y/n. In a way he’s asking for it, he’s alone in a quiet room, that’s perfect for an apology and a confession. This could be your only chance in a while,” seungmin played with the car keys in his hands and then gave you a rather tempting look over the car
You stood there and contemplated
maybe you weren’t ready and you should wait a day or two to get things sorted
but at the same time you really wanted to just get things fixed with jisung
you glanced over at seungmin and found him staring back at you with raised brows and straight and serious face
“do it”
again it took you a moment to decide but seungmin was right, this chance was a good chance
“okay but you better wait here so i could get a ride home.”
“no problem with me, ill just sit here listening to some jams.”
you let out a tiny wheeze and threw your bag onto the floor of his car before making your way back in
you hated going back in since you were walking against people walking out. you were just glad that it was at the end of the day and that meant the school was emptying
you mindlessly made your way to the spare room and then stood at the door to peek through the window
at first you thought that jisung wasnt in there but as you brought your face closer to the window, you see jisung sitting against the wall
he had his knees propped up as a ‘stand’ for a notebook he had opened and he had a pencil in one hand
his headphones were half off but you could clearly see the tiny grin that appeared on his face and the way he subtly bopped his head
that’s wholesome
you huffed out a huge breath and knocked on the door. when you see jisung look up, you turn the doorknob and push it open to enter
“y-y/n?” he stammered while he abruptly stood up, carelessly dropping the things that were in his hands a second ago
“can i talk to you?” you inched closer before you stopped about a metre away from him, giving his space
he sunk his hands into the sleeves of his sweater and kept his head low, trying to avoid eye contact
“yeah”
You squeezed your eyes really quick before looking back at his tiny looking figure, though he was taller than you by a bit
“I really really want to apologize for the other day… I was really mad about a car situation that morning and my tolerance level was really low and I-- I’m sorry I took it out on you and said those words. I really didn’t mean any of that,” that went better than expected... now for the confession
Jisung brought himself to look up and look at you, making your heart beat faster by the minute
he opened his mouth to say something but you hadn’t noticed since it was your turn to avoid eye contact
you kept going with the plan, “i didn’t want to admit, especially to you, but i actually missed you during these past almost two weeks? seungmin mentioned something that made me feel weird-”
jisung finally stopped you, “I accept your apology, i shouldve stopped when you asked, i was stupid for not listening.”
his brain finally processed the second thing you added which made him jump
did seungmin tell him he liked you or? If he did, he knew damn well he was meeting seungmin on some rooftop
and you missed him? The fuck was happening?
“W-what?” jisung stuttered.
“Jisung,,,” he watched you take a deep breath and said, “ i don’t know how to explain this-- but i didn’t like you not being there? If that makes any sense. It’s not the same as if hyunjin or felix or even seungmin was gone,,, I literally waited for you to come in and sit with us and I felt a slight change in mood when i realized you weren’t riding home with me and seungmin,,,”
“what do you mean, y/n?”
jisung was just as slow as you damn
“It means that I like you, jisung, and i hate myself for not realizing until i hurt you and after all the shit that happened… i’d understand if you don’t like me back anymore,,, this was a reach.”
So seungmin did tell her, he thought
“You like me?” jisung was almost glowing and his gummy smile soon began to appear but he resisted
You nodded sheepishly
“Well,,,” jisung crossed his arms and brought his chin high, “i don’t like you back”
You were shook and a look of worry was slapped onto your face
“I’m joking,” he broke out into a smile, “i really like you back”
“I hate you!” you say, slapping his arm, “i really thought i looked fucking stupid doing that”
On the inside, you were jumping for joy, this was the jisung you knew, annoying and loud, but it was your fault for falling for the boy
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