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oddaodd · 3 years

Text

· I Don't Go In For Sweets ·

Request: by a lovely anon "set after the events of season 3. Tommy can't handle the company, he's still grieving and he has to be there for Charlie so Polly tells him she knows a girl from a good family to get married He ends up agreeing (aunt Pol can be very persuasive) but even though he's married, this new girl isn't considered as a wife. He doesn't really make any effort but his "wife" understands, he's a widowed father who lost his first wife only a year ago. However since they are...in this, she wants to make her time as enjoyable as possible for the both of them and for Charlie too. But no matter what Tommy makes it a point of honor to not let her in, to not let her replace Grace so he ignores her, he works more, tries to spend as little as possible in the house. Reader stays patient, it will be alright and Charlie is making her quite busy anyway. One night, Tommy comes home completely drunk and maybe a bit high too, he can't even make it to his office. Thankfully Reader is still awake, she takes care of him and Tommy just...melts at how gentle Reader is, he may be able to keep his distant while sober but it's much harder in his state. He admits to her how he's been feeling and all. Ever since that night, something changed, Tommy feels some comfort, some solace being around her, she accepts him wholly, even his flaws, the bad side of his business and she tries to provide some sort of safe place for when it gets too hard." (I edited the request because it was very long, but I kept all essential parts in there)

Author’s note: I loved loved loved writing this and it ended up being SUPER long, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. As always, I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days!

Warnings: season 3 SPOILERS sort of, but not really, still read at your own risk. Arranged marriage, mentions of alcohol and drugs, angst.

“Thomas, you may not be able to see it, but you’re breaking apart” Polly spoke with a sigh as she lit a cigarette after everyone was dismissed from a family meeting.

Everyone had left Tommy’s office in arrow house rather gaily after receiving their fair compensations for partaking in the whole Russian ordeal, all except Polly, who remained where she sat, wishing for a word with her nephew

Tommy merely scoffed at her concern before lighting his own cigarette and taking a puff “I’ll be alright”

“And Charlie?” Pol pressed knowing Tommy’s mourning was not only affecting him, but Charlie as well. “What about him?”

“He’s fine” He said before turning around to look through the window, ignoring his Aunt’s heavy stare.

“You take too much after your mother” she sighed half angry half sad “she too loved pretending everything was alright and I don’t need to remind you where that lead her”

Tommy sighed deeply, he knew he could fool anyone. Anyone but Polly. “We’ll manage”

“Consider my offer” Polly said standing up and making her way to the door “Y/n is a good girl from a good family” she persuaded before leaving the room.

Tommy sighed at his Aunt’s words, he wasn’t ready to get married again even when he knew the woman he would be marrying was a nice one. He felt like he was spitting on Grace’s grave and he hated himself for even considering the prospect, but he knew a mother figure would be good for Charlie.

He spent the rest of the day pondering about Polly’s suggestion and remembering his own childhood in the shadow of the absent tortured presence that his mother had been. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t want that for Charlie, so that same night he phoned Polly.

“I’ll do it” was all he said before hanging up. There was no need for more words, Polly would know exactly what he meant.

Exactly a week later, Tom was standing in the altar of a church that was significantly smaller than the one from his first wedding. The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit. And as he stood there he couldn’t keep his mind from traveling to the days leading up to his wedding to Grace. She had made sure everything was perfect and had made an effort to invite every single relative she could think of. She remembered her rambling on an on about fabrics, insisting that everything ought to be perfect when he in all honestly couldn’t care less, he just wanted to marry her.

All his thoughts vanished away with a poof when Y/n came into sight. And what a sight she was. She had insisted on doing her own makeup and on pinning flowers to her hair to compliment her headpiece and her elegant, yet simple white dress flowed almost mystically as her father gave her away. She had never imagined she would be marrying someone she didn’t know, but she wanted to look her best for getting married is not something people do everyday.

When she stood in the altar, she offered her to be husband a smile which he did not return, instead turning his attention to the priest before them. She mirrored his actions, her heart beating violently under her chest as the priest began speaking.

It all felt like a blur, she could swear it had only been a second since her father had given her away and yet, the priest had already uttered the dreaded “you may now kiss the bride”

Tommy barely brushed his lips against hers and soon the sound of everyone clapping invaded her ears. They had a small party afterwards in Y/n’s former house. Her parents had invited pretty much all of their acquaintances while tommy had only invited his close relatives.

When night fell Tommy was more than ready to leave “Are you ready to go?” was one of the few sentences he uttered to his now wife that night.

She again offered him a smile before saying “yeah just let me say goodbye”

The drive to arrow house was tense, although Y/n didn’t know Thomas very well she would tell he was unhappy. She wondered about what to say to him, but couldn’t come up with anything good enough and soon enough they were pulling over in front of Tommy’s stately home.

“Charlie must already be asleep, but I'll introduce you tomorrow” he said opening Y/n’s door for her.

“It’s alright” she said looking at him, not quite knowing what to do next.

“Your parents sent some of your belongings, I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” he said

“Thank you, Thomas” she smiled as she walked into the big house not yet feeling close enough to him to call him Tommy.

His name falling from her lips caused an echo of bittersweet emotions to stir inside him but he masked it perfectly well as she introduced Y/n to the maids that went to the door to take their coats.

“Frances here will show you the way to the room” he said after having made introductions.

“This way, Mrs” Frances politely said.

Y/n began following her but stopped when she didn’t hear Tommy’s footsteps behind her own.

“Are you not coming?” she asked turning to look at him.

“Maybe in a bit” was all he said before he walked away down one of the many spacious hallways of the house.

After Y/n made herself comfortable in the room and changed into her nightgown she took the time to peek around the room like one always does when one is a strange place. After familiarizing herself with it she laid down in the big bed. She was nervous, she knew what happened on wedding nights. A small chuckle stopped at her lips when she recalled the stories her close already married girlfriends told her. If she hadn’t married a complete stranger she too would be looking forward to it.

Her thoughts ended up luring her to sleep after a while despite her nerves and the night went by in a ridiculously fast flash. The next morning she woke up alone and after getting ready she made her way downstairs. Tommy and Charlie were already in the dining room when she entered it.

“good morning” she said

Charlie immediately turned his attention to her, his eyes widening while his dad merely glanced at her while he muttered a “Good morning “ of his own.

Y/n sat down next to Tommy while he cleared his throat “charles, this is Y/n. We got married yesterday so she’ll be living with us from now on”

Charlie merely nodded in understanding before playing around with his food.

A tense air flooded breakfast until Tommy stood up, having barely touched his food and spoke turning to look at Y/n “I have to go now, if you need anything feel free to ask Frances”

“Alright” Y/n replied feeling a bit disappointed, she would love to get to know him, but she already knew it was going to be difficult.

“I have to go too” Charlie announced in a timid voice, interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. Despite her disappointment she understood, maybe he was just shy and his dad just reticent. They had lost a wife and a mother after all.

The first few days after that, Charlie avoided her nearly as much as his father did and Y/n remained in lonely patience until one night Charlie’s cries interrupted her focus on the book that she had just bought. She rushed to his room and called out his name as she entered not knowing if the boy would be comfortable with her or not.

“What is it?” she asked worried as she knelt by his bed.

“I miss my mum” the boy confessed looking at her with teary eyes as he clutched his blanket.

Y/n felt her heart give a small ache at his confession and in an attempt to comfort him she spoke “She’s not really gone, you know?”

“She’s dead” the boy sobbed.

“but people who die, don’t leave us. Not really anyhow” she said hesitantly rubbing his arm. “just because we cant see them doesn’t mean they are not here”

“I miss seeing her” he continued.

“Oh but you can still see her”

“how”

“before you go to bed just think about her, then she’ll visit you in your dreams” Y/n spoke as if she was telling a fairy tale.

“really?” the boy’s eyes widened.

“really” Y/n confirmed “But you have to think really really hard”

“I’ll try” Charlie said having calmed down a bit.

“very well” Y/n said as she stood up, but Charlie’s voice stopped her.

“can you stay till I fall asleep?”

After that night, Charlie hardly left Y/n’s side and she felt much better with his company for she was sure if he wasn’t there keeping her on her toes all day she would fall into a depressive chasm induced by her husband’s absence.

On the rare moments he was home she tried to strike up conversation with him over breakfast or late at night when he came home and she was burdened by insomnia. But Tommy only humored her with a few short responses before excusing himself or turning to face the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t only the fact that he avoided her as much as he could, but he also made it a priority to exclude her at all times. She was never invited into family meetings or night’s at The Garrison so she thought it was a miracle when tommy didn’t oppose to her planning Charlie’s birthday party.

She invited only Tommy’s family which instantly warmed up to her, noticing what a good influence she was and Polly wanted to slap Thomas for the way he had been acting throughout his marriage to Y/n. Almost feeling guilty for getting her into this mess.

When the party ended Tommy shut himself in his office like he often did when he was at home and though he had never given Y/n a reason to believe she was welcome in there of all places, she found herself allowing herself in after putting Charlie to bed.

Tommy looked up as she entered and let out a sigh before turning his attention back to some papers he had been reading.

“I noticed you didn’t have any” she commented not letting his sigh deflate her as she laid a plate with a slice of homemade chocolate cake on his desk. “it’s really good if I may say so myself” she mused sitting down in a chair opposite to his as she dug in with a fork in her own slice.

“I don’t go in for sweets” he stated.

“Not even chocolate?” Y/n tried, but tommy didn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“I still think you should try it, it’s not overly sweet, and…”

“is there anything you need?” he interrupted bluntly a bit harsher than he would’ve liked.

His tone caught her off guard and when she couldn’t come up with an answer tommy again turned his attention back to his papers.

“I wish you could let me in” She softly confessed after a few tense seconds.

“Well I wish we hadn’t married but I guess things don’t always go the way we want them to go”

Tommy knew he had crossed a line by the silence that again settled into the room. He looked up at Y/n with her parted lips and misty eyes. They exchanged glances for a second but instead of allowing him to see her like that any longer, she stood up setting her plate on his desk and walked away, only allowing a few tears to drop by when she was out of the room and his sight.

After that she stopped trying to get closer to him. He still loved his late wife and she understood, people in grief never mean what they say after all, but his words stung nonetheless.

She stopped trying to wait for him at night to see if he had gotten home alright and during breakfast she only uttered polite good mornings.

One night however, Y/n was yanked out of a peaceful sleep by a loud crash. She was on her feet in no time and after checking into Charlie’s room to see if he was alright she cautiously ventured downstairs. A few incoherent mumbles filled her ears before her husband came into sight, fumbling with his coat to get it off.

“need help?” she asked earning his attention.

“I’m fine” he said finally taking it off but as he went to take a step to begin walking the floor under him moved and he lost his balance, his knees crashing loudly against the wooden floor.

Y/n offered him a hand and helped him up. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, his hands were shaky, consequence of the snow, no doubt. “let’s get you upstairs”

“I can do it on me own” he slurred letting go of her hand.

“stop being so stubborn” she derided, snaking one of her arms around his waist as she helped him upstairs.

Y/n helped him into bed, tookoff his shoes and went to the bathroom to fetch a small towel and some cold water.

She dampened the towel with the cold water before dabing it gently on Tommy’s forehead. His eyes never leaving her face as she did so, making her grow a bit nervous. She continued, trying her best to ignore it until she felt his hand softly caressing her cheek.

“You are beautiful” he rasped.

“Stop it, Thomas” she said feeling her cheeks grow red when she felt a bit sad that he had to be completely drunk to compliment her.

Even in his drunken state he seemed to notice he was making her uncomfortable so he held his tongue until Y/n laid in bed next to him after turning on the lights.

“I’m sorry” he interrupted the silence “For the way I’ve been acting” the whiskey and cocaine making him more vulnerable and open “I guess I was afraid that if I let you in then she would disappear”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but then her voice came in a soft exhausted tone“ I don’t intend to replace her. You don’t need to act all defensive and secretive. Even if it’s not what you wanted, we are married.”

“I Know” was all he said.

Y/n expected him to withdraw more from her after showing himself that vulnerable to her that night but she was wrong. He began arriving home earlier, sometimes even asking if he could come along on the walks she and Charlie so much adored going on. And Y/n finally felt her marriage was going somewhere maybe it wasn’t based on love yet, but it was something.

One day she was at the stables while Charlie was taking a nap. She had always adored horses.

“I didn’t know you liked horses” came Tommy’s smooth voice causing her to jump.

“You never asked” she smiled petting a black horse as he walked closer to her.

“We could go out for a ride, I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind letting you borrow his horse” Tommy offered as he too began to pet the horse, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s for a brief second.

“I’d love to, but I am afraid I don’t know how to ride, Tommy” she said, panicking for a second after having called him that. But she rested assured as soon as he spoke again.

“Well that can be fixed” he said opening the door of the stall and guiding the horse outside.

“You mean now?” Y/n asked with a laugh.

“Got something better to do?” he asked walking out of the stable with the horse. Y/n observed tommy as he prepared the horse. She had never seen him so gentle and calm before and she only realized she had been staring when Tommy directed his attention to her to ask her if she was ready.

“I think so” she said going to stand next to the horse wondering how the hell to climb up. But before she had any more time to think she felt Tommy’s hands on her waist giving her a push that allowed her to pull herself up on the animal. It was a good thing she had chosen to wear slacks that day, she thought.

“Goodness this is high” she said nervously looking down at Tommy when he began guiding the horse to move in a slow walk.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall” he promised repressing a mirthful tone at her nervousness.

He guided the horse with her around the property in the crisp evening air and Y/n allowed herself to relax with every step the horse took. Tommy’s presence made her feel safe and protected and she found it increasingly harder to look away from his figure. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him.

When the sky began turning soft shades of purple and orange the pair returned to the stables. When the time came from Y/n to come down from the horse, tommy helped her again. Y/n began to love the feeling of him touching her and when her feet touched the ground in front of Thomas, he didn’t remove his hands from her waist right away and instead fixed his blue eyes on her, not wanting to stop looking at her.

She too fixed her eyes on Tommy as she felt a silent gasp in the base of her throat. That was the way she would’ve liked him to look at her on their wedding day. Tommy then leaned in, almost as if he were asking for permission before he tenderly pressed his lips to Y/n’s.

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @slytherinicequeen @lilymurphy03

#tommy shelby request #tommy shelby #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby request #thomas shelby one shot #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby angst #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders request #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinder one shot #peaky blinder imagine

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

They Always Do.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: insecurity

Requested: Nope

Summary: "you're not worried? he seems to be spending a lot of time with her..." "no" "why not?" "because i braced myself for this months ago. they leave, they always do. it's nothing new"

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! The first part of this fic is fluff, angst in the middle, fluff again at the end. Nothing too extreme, just a little one-shot. Enjoy!

---

"Sebastian, Y/N, so glad you made it!" Susan Downey smiled warmly at the couple. "Of course, we couldn't miss the 56th birthday of the one and only Iron Man," Sebastian chuckled, walking into the house with his girlfriend. He put his arm around Y/N, observing the place. "Guys! Hello!" they heard.

"Mr Downey," Y/N greeted politely, turning to smile at the birthday boy. "You must be the girlfriend," he grinned, pulling her into a bear hug. "Yep, that's me." Then he turned to Sebastian, frowning. "Why didn't you introduce her to everyone sooner?" Y/N laughed as Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging.

"Don't ask me, she was the one too chicken to meet you!" Sebastian defended himself, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend. She snorted as Robert let go of her, returning to Sebastian's side. "I guess that's on me," she sighed dramatically, making both men laugh. "Well, enjoy yourselves! Have a drink, have fun!"

With that, he walked away. Sebastian noticed a server holding up a tray of drinks and called him over. He handed a glass to Y/N and took one for himself, taking a sip. "Thanks for bringing me over, honey," Y/N smiled and he turned to her, scoffing. "You're my girlfriend! God knows they were dying to meet you," he laughed, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

With that they went around the place, talking to new people, old friends and making new acquaintances. Y/N had a lot of fun meeting Sebastian's co-stars, and especially loved Elizabeth Olsen. Y/N was a huge Marvel fan and one of her favorite works of the MCU was WandaVision. Y/N had fangirled a bit, not gonna lie.

Like that passed an hour. After her feet started hurting, Sebastian decided it was time for the woman to sit down, have a drink and chill out. "Okay doll, here's a glass of champagne, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call me, okay? I'm going there, with Chris and Anthony. I love you." She smiled when he gave her a quick kiss.

"I love you too, and don't worry, I'll find you easy. This place isn't that big."

"I heard that!"

Laughing at her antics, Sebastian gave his girlfriend one more loving kiss before prancing out of the room in search of his best friends, Chris Evans and Anthony Mackie. Y/N relaxed on the comfortable couch with a sigh, sipping on her drink. It all began a year ago, very cheesily, might I add.

Y/N was at her favourite coffee shop when he had walked in. Immediately, fans had him surrounded, but she didn't go over to him. She stayed seated, looking at him, wishing she could go over but she knew how stressful fan interactions were for celebrities. Sebastian had, unfortunately, caught her eye and she had turned beet red, burying her face in her laptop.

He had found her absolutely winsome and after the crowd around him had dissipated, he had wandered over to her table and introduced himself. She was flustered around him, which made him tingly inside. And he had blurted out, "Wanna meet here next Saturday at 7?" They kept their promise and that's how they started dating.

A year ago.

That was a healthy amount of time.

Right?

Y/N couldn't help but have her doubts. All her previous relationships were pathetic failures, where the guy usually got bored of her within 3 months. But now, she had braced herself for rejection (which she knew deep down wasn't coming but it pays to be careful). "Hey."

Startled, she turned to see a kinda young, kinda drunk woman sitting next to her, looking up at her with doe eyes. "Hi," Y/N smiled back politely. "You're— you're the woman!" She had started slurring her words, which made Y/N frown a bit. "I'm… what?" she blinked. "The girl! Who came over with Sebastian Stan, you're his girlfriend!" The woman laughed loudly.

A few heads turned towards them but quickly looked away when they realized that the girl was drunk. "Yep, that's me. Why?" Y/N was now amused. As they talked, she didn't notice Sebastian walking into the room. He had come back to ask Y/N something but had paused in his tracks when he saw her frowning at the young, drunk woman.

Then he inched closer, unabashedly eavesdropping on her conversation. "Yep, saw him spending a lot of time with Ms Lizzie Olsen. If he was mine, girl, I would take that man home and show him who truly belongs to him, if you know what I mean," the girl winked and a sad smile bloomed on Y/N's face. "They're good friends, of course they're gonna spend time together."

Sebastian smiled at her answer. He knew she was different, she didn't get easily jealous and he liked that, since it reduced the number of arguments they had by a lot. His jealousy? Well, that's a story for another time… "You don't mind? He seems to be spending a lot of time with her…" the drunk woman frowned at Y/N.

Well, she was drunk, she wouldn't remember this night anyway, so maybe… it would be good to get some things off her chest.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I braced myself for this months ago. They leave, they always do. It's nothing new," Y/N admitted, swirling the champagne that was swimming in her half-full glass. Sebastian's heart shattered into a million pieces at her words. Before the words were even completely out of her mouth, tears had started stinging in his eyes.

"Y/N?" Startled yet again, Y/N turned to see Sebastian smiling at her. "Seb! Hi, thought you were with your friends!" she grinned at him. "I— uh— something came up, we need to go," he spoke quietly, fidgeting with his hands. Y/N's brows furrowed but she got up, collecting her coat and her purse.

"Can we at least say Happy Birthday to Robert?"

"Yeah, yeah of course." Sebastian managed a weak smile when she gave him a kiss on the cheek, going off to find Robert and Susan. She told them something urgent came up and they allowed the couple to leave. "Seb, let's go!" He followed her out of the house, meekly trailing behind her, the words she said ringing in his ears.

They leave, they always do. It's nothing new.

How had this woman, practically a Goddess, had such bad experiences that she was forced to think that way? He was never going to leave her, having found the perfect woman at last. He got into the driver's seat of his car, and the car ride home was quiet. Y/N was getting anxious. What happened to him? Did something happen at the party?

Once they were home, Sebastian couldn't help himself. "S—" Y/N yelped when he crushed her to his body, hugging her tightly. He took both of them to their shared bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her on his lap and buried his face in her chest, breaking down. "Seb, honey, what's wrong?" Y/N cooed, getting insanely paranoid.

The crying didn't stop for 15 minutes. Y/N, in a futile attempt to get him to stop, was running a hand through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, holding him close. When he took in a shuddering breath, he pulled away and finally looked Y/N in her eyes. "Now are you going to tell me what happened?" she smiled gently.

He took her hand, pressing a kiss to her wrist. "I'm sorry," he croaked out and Y/N frowned. "Sorry for what?" He shook his head, burying his face back in his safe haven. Except, Y/N wasn't having any of that. She pulled him away and dropped a soft kiss to his forehead. "Tell me what happened."

He took in another shaky breath.

"I… I heard you."

"Heard me?" Y/N blinked. "Yes. You were… you were talking to that girl on the couch and she was— she was talking about how I seem to be spending a lot of time with Lizzie and you— you said you didn't mind but she kept on insisting and you said they leave. they always do. I'm not going to leave you, Y/N, I promise. You're one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I'm not letting you go."

Oh.

"Seb," Y/N whispered, her own eyes now filled to the brim with tears. "Don't cry," he chuckled with a watery voice, wiping her tears off. "It's just— all my relationships before you… the guys were assholes. They always left 2-3 months in. I— I wasn't taking any chances with you, you know… plus, you're kind of a famous guy and you can get so many better women—"

He didn't want to hear it. Better than Y/N? Impossible. He pressed his lips to her, immediately deepening the kiss when she reciprocated. "I promise you, I cannot do any better than you." Y/N smiled shyly at his words and his heart filled with happiness. "Let's go to sleep."

Both of them tired from the crying, they got undressed without trying any funny business. Y/N put on her usual pair of shorts and one of Sebastian's huge t-shirts, getting into the bed where a boxer-clad Sebastian already lay. He pulled her into his arms and she rested her head on his chest, draping an arm around his taut abdomen.

"Comfy?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, doll, I love you."

"I love you too, Seb. Goodnight."

"...Never gonna leave you."

"Not a chance."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you liked it!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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cinnaminsvga · 2 years

Note

tlhc!yoongi + 27 + 58 🤪

premise: “Please don't joke about these kind of things.” + "Why is everyone staring at us?" genre: tlhc!yoongi, angst || wc: 1.7K+ a/n: nary you're literally so fucked up for this LMFAOOO i saw this come in my inbox and literally gasped... tlhc!yoongi? in 2022? it's more likely than you think! (and also tlhc!jungkook lovers i am so sorry but also i am not hehehehe)

The sticky summer heat makes wearing a suit twice as hellish than it already is. Yoongi tugs at his collar fruitlessly, hoping for a scant amount of air conditioning to cool his overheated skin. He fidgets in his seat, not going unnoticed by the equally sweaty man beside him.

"Hyung, please stop fidgeting. The ceremony is about to start," Namjoon scolds, but it's hard to take him seriously when there are droplets of sweat running down his brow like a waterfall.

"Tell me again why on earth our friends decided to have their wedding at a fucking beach? During the worst heatwave of the century?" Yoongi hisses, running his damp handkerchief across his face. He is sure that he will look like he'd just taken a dive in the sea, suit and all, once the wedding photos get circulated around.

"Oh, you know how our beloved Taetae is. He's had this entire dream wedding planned since early November, and it's always easy to plan summer weddings when it's cold in the winter," Seokjin muses, pushing his expensive shades up his nose.

Yoongi notes in irritation that his hyung does not have a hair out of place, as per usual. The bastard never seems to look bad, not even under the sweltering heat of the devil's ass beating on their backs.

"Dream wedding or not, this shit sucks ass," Yoongi murmurs, pouting not unlike a child.

"Something tells me our little Yoonie is mad because he doesn't have his emotional support Y/N by his side," Seokjin coos condescendingly, squishing Yoongi's sweaty bread cheeks. "But don't worry, Yoongi-chi. You'll see your beloved Y/N walk down the aisle and you can jack off to the thought of seeing her in your own wedding when you get home tonight—"

Seokjin's words are cut off by a swift punch to the nuts, courtesy of Yoongi. Namjoon, his own beloved husband, does nothing to comfort him. Instead, he points to the doors, where a handsomely sunkissed Taehyung nervously makes his way to the front of the altar. "Look, Taehyung's here!"

Taehyung makes a stop a few aisles behind them, saying hello to a few acquaintances before making his way over to them. "Hey hyungs! Thanks for coming," Taehyung smiles brightly, reaching over to each of them to give them a hug. Despite the uncomfortable sensation of damp cheeks meeting neck, Taehyung is kind enough (or delusional enough) not to mention their haggard appearances.

"Of course, Taehyungie! Wouldn't miss it for the world," Seokjin grins back, slapping him amiably on the back. "I hope you aren't getting cold feet on your big day."

"Of course not! I've been waiting for this day my entire life," Taehyung says, sighing dreamily. "I still remember your wedding like it was yesterday. I was absolutely itching for my own day to come back then, so I almost can't believe it's finally here."

“As happy as I am for you, could you not have chosen a worse place to have a wedding? I mean, come on! I am literally swimming in my own bodily fluids right now,” Yoongi whines, trying but failing to sound like he’s just joking.

Lucky for him, his entire friend group is used to his little hissy fits. “Oh, don’t worry Yoongi! I’m sorry for taking Y/N away, but I need my best woman only for today. Y/N will be yours again by tomorrow and you’ll forget about being a sad lonely loser!” Taehyung says cheerily.

While Seokjin and Namjoon laugh in agreement, Yoongi splutters, indignant. “Why does everyone think I am unable to function as a human being unless Y/N is here?”

“Uh, because you don’t?” Namjoon says matter-of-factly.

Yoongi fumes, but doesn’t retort. Seokjin mimics the sound of a whip with his mouth, prompting another punch to the nuts courtesy of Yoongi.

“Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the reception later. If you don’t like the food, blame Seokjin since he’s the one who helped choose the menu,” Taehyung says.

“I mostly did it because I refuse to eat McDonalds during a wedding, thank you very much,” Seokjin sniffs.

“What’s wrong with McDonalds? That’s where hubby and I met in the first place,” Taehyung argues, but he knows he’s fighting a losing game.

Seokjin huffs. “Fine, be that way. Just don’t come crying to me when you and your husband get the Mickey D Shitspalooza during your honeymoon.”

“Husband-to-be,” Yoongi corrects, just to be an asshole. When Yoongi apologizes later, he’ll say it was the heat making him an asshole and his friends will call his bullshit.

“Semantics! What’s the difference between 30 minutes and now, anyway?” Taehyung laughs, waving him off. “Anyway! Gotta get into position! I’ll see you guys later!”

The trio bid their good lucks and blessings before settling back into their seats. The buzz from the crowd slowly dies down as people start to get into place. From one of the side doors, Yoongi notices a swish of a pink skirt flutter just out of view.

Call it Y/N-sense or whatever, but Yoongi already knows that it’s you even before your full frazzled form makes an entrance, your perfectly manicured hands gripping the door with urgency. Yoongi immediately notices the furrow in your brow as you quietly beckoned Taehyung to come closer, whispering something into his ear.

“There’s something wrong,” Yoongi mutters, watching the two of you. Seokjin follows his gaze, his own shoulders hunching tensely.

Taehyung pulls away from you, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face. He shakes his head, pondering for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. His face morphs back into its former sunny self, but Yoongi can see the tinge of anxiety tugging at Taehyung’s lips.

Yoongi tries to grab your attention, and just like him, you also have a Yoongi-sense coded deep within you. Your eyes meet, and Yoongi can’t help but smile. It takes you a beat longer than usual to smile back, your eyes shifting uneasily towards the main door of the chapel.

He turns to look, and immediately understands the reason for your anxiety. “Oh,” he mutters lamely, his blood running cold.

Seokjin and Namjoon overhear him and turn to look as well. “Oh dear,” Seokjin gasps a little too loudly.

Yoongi lets out a deep, shuddering breath, the collar of his dress shirt feeling more and more like a noose.

“What’s the difference between 30 minutes and now?” Yoongi repeats Taehyung’s words, watching as a tall, young man make his way to their aisle of seats. Familiar doe eyes meet his, hesitance pouring out of the boy in waves. He offers up a smile, but Yoongi is too stunned to return one of his own.

“An ex,” Yoongi answers his own question, coming face to face with Jeon Jungkook.

“Hello, hyungs,” Jungkook greets politely, a tip-lipped smile on his face. “The usher told me that these seats were for close friends?”

There’s another question somewhere in there, Yoongi thinks. Are you a close friend, Jeon Jungkook?

“Of course, Jungkookie. Take the seat beside Yoongi-chi,” Namjoon snaps out of his stupor faster than the rest of them, scooting backward to let Jungkook pass through.

Jungkook nods meekly, fumbling his way until he’s seated arm-to-arm with Yoongi. The four of them sit in awkward silence, which worsens Yoongi’s fidgeting by tenfold.

Eventually, he breaks. “Well, this is going to be fun, huh?” Yoongi says, laughing awkwardly.

“Hyung, please don’t joke about these kinds of things,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth.

“I... I don’t intend to make a fuss,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes downcast. From the corner of his eye, Yoongi notes his hunched back, his clasped hands. For a split second, he sees a shy 18-year old freshman from a time since past.

The chapel is thrumming. Everyone has their eyes and ears on them, and it makes Yoongi want to claw at his skin until his nails meet bone and then some. He goes to stand, but Seokjin is quick enough to pull him down back to his seat. “Don’t even think about it,” Seokjin spit at him, his grip on his arm deathly.

The problem with guilt, Yoongi wants to tell him, is that I’ve never been good at dealing with it.

When he meets eyes with you, you nod in understanding. No one else in this room understands the need to run as much as you did. The muscles in his thighs ache as he restrains himself from bolting out of there as quickly as he can.

The problem is that he already knew this was bound to happen. Everyone in this chapel knew it was bound to happen, and some of them might have been excited. Nothing flows easier than gossip, and Yoongi knows that better than anyone else.

What no one knows, however, was that it was his fault that this happened in the first place.

“It’s not your fault,” you remind him. “It seldom is.” Endlessly, you will remind him of this.

But it is, he argues.

It is his fault that Jeon Jungkook isn’t walking down the aisle, and after all these years, forgiveness still does not come easy to Min Yoongi.

Guilt incarnate speaks before he can do anything. “I... Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Jungkook says, already stepping over their feet in his haste to get out

“No, Jungkookie—” Seokjin starts, but his words fall on deaf ears as Jungkook’s feet propel him out of the hall as fast as his long legs can take him. His footsteps sound loud in these hallowed halls, and it feels like they echo for eons inside Yoongi’s head.

From the altar, no one notices the way Taehyung has his arm outstretched, almost like he’s about to run after him. No one except for one pair of eyes, whose heart breaks at the sight.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He lowers it immediately, without a fight.

He swallows thickly. “I know.” He bows his head sadly.

The chatter returns, louder than ever. The eyes refuse to leave Yoongi and his friends, and eventually, Seokjin gets sick of it. “Why is everyone staring at us, huh? Got something to say?” he snaps angrily.

Ashamed, the guests all turn to the front, the polite silence returning with a vengeance. Yoongi almost wishes the noise had stayed, something to drown out the mess of thoughts running through his head.

“I fucking hate weddings,” Yoongi says to himself, quiet enough that no one will hear. When he closes his eyes, all he feels is the tightness of his collar, the trail of sweat running down his back, and the doe eyes of a boy he used to care about.

#yoongi scenarios #man does this make sense idk #it is 12 am i have work tomorrow LMAOOOO #get fucking shid on jungkook HAHAHHAHA #textau #t:unlisted #joonary #answered

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zhongli-topper · 3 years

Note

Hello, that Zhongli fic is *chef kiss* can I request dom reader with xiao, with orgasm denial, overstimulation but also praising him? Can the reader be gn? but fem reader is fine too. I've can't stop thinking about this man please, sadly he didn't come home so I'm here stalking xiao tag 😔

xiao x dom reader - taking care of him (nsfw)

pairing: xiao x gn reader includes: praise, orgasm denial, overstimulation, light dom reader/sub xiao a/n: thank you so much, lovely! 💖 sorry for the delay, i got busy with life. i love xiao, he’s baby and he absolutely deserves to be taken care of~

“Xiao.”

It never fails to astonish him, how just the way you say his name can feel like a caress, and you don’t even need to touch him. Despite his instincts, despite the voices that tell him to take up his burdens in solitude, he finds himself drawn to you like a moth to light.

“Come here?”

Under the lantern-light of your room at the Wangshu Inn, your voice is somehow softer, your gaze darker than the velvety night sky settling over Dihua Marsh.

He approaches you on the bed, stance wary like a cat’s. You know his caution is born of necessity, a natural outcome of his thankless and eternal battle, but right now it mainly makes you want to hold him and comfort him and try to help him untangle that ball of pain, even if just a little. Even as he sits on the bed next to you, his body’s tense, and still fully dressed even though you’re ready to sleep, if you felt like sleeping, which you didn’t.

You turn slightly towards him and place your hand over his, and the warmth of your skin seeps even through his glove, and even to a two-thousand-year-old adeptus, the mystery of human touch is still something unfamiliar to him—though with you, he’s learning to grow accustomed to it.

It had been a relatively slow process, even in mortal, human terms. After Xiao had begun to accept your fleeting, friendly touches during your acquaintance, it had taken a while for him to reciprocate, and even longer for either of you to progress into more physical, intimate forms of affection.

In that time you had learned to read the subtle shifts in Xiao’s moods, the quiet differences of his anger and sadness, and the rare, sun-bright glimpses of his happiness. For him, learning to be vulnerable was—and still is—an uphill battle, but in the time you two had been together, you could sense what he needed, and right now, with his brow drawn and hand clenched beneath yours, you were determined to give it to him.

“Xiao,” you say again, and flip his hand to thread your fingers through his. “You seem tense. Did anything happen today?”

“No,” he answers automatically. Then he frowns. “I’m the same as ever. What makes you say that?”

You’re a little stung at his blunt tone, but you know he means nothing by it. You shrug. “I know you, Xiao. I’d hope you would give me a little more credit after all this time.”

He looks at you fully then, and his frown deepens as though he’s disappointed in something. “I—I know.” He blinks, his lashes fluttering. His gaze grows determined then, and squeezes your hand in return. “I need…”

“Yes?”

“Just…” He shakes his head, a frown etched into his features. “Memories of the war. They’re… being difficult to deal with again.”

He averts his gaze from yours, suddenly shy. “I… thought I would ask if you…” His mouth presses into a thin line as he cuts himself off, seeming to be embarrassed at what he was asking you to do.

“What did you want to ask me?” you encouraged him.

“If you would… help me to forget. To stop thinking about it.” As he said it, a pink tinge bloomed across his cheeks, an endearing sight that clued you in as to what kind of activity he had in mind. You turn your hand over and twine your fingers with his, and you’re happy to see him reciprocate rather than shy away as he had done in the past.

Giving him a small smile, you nod. You pull him closer, slow enough for him to get comfortable, and press your lips to his. “Then, let me take care of you, Xiao.”

~*~

You kiss him, slow and deep, and he melts under your touch, his hands grasping at your shoulders, your arms and chest, anchoring himself to your body. He’s taken off his accessories, leaving him in his sleeveless top and pants. In between kisses, his breaths already have an uneven quality, as he presses himself into the warmth of your body.

You pull back to catch your breath, and see that even with his eyes closed, his brow is still clenched, and you smooth over the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb, following it up with your lips. He shifts on your lap, and you can feel through his pants that he’s already half-hard, and trying not to rut against your thigh.

You smile against his skin. “You’re doing so well, Xiao,” you whisper, kissing close to his ear after you say it. You can feel him shiver, just slightly, at your praise, which you’ve learned is something that really gets him going.

“Do you want me?” you ask, just to make sure.

His fingers clinging onto your shoulders tighten and he nods fervently, refusing to meet your eyes.

“Please.”

You swallow the rest of his panting breaths by sealing your mouth over his, and slowly you push up the fabric of his shirt, his tight shirt that never left much to the imagination. Xiao might have been small, but his body was solid and muscular, and his naked skin under your hands was hot. You could feel the vibrations of his soft moans as your palms dragged up his toned torso, over his abdomen to splay your fingers over his chest and play with his nipples.

“Y/N…” he pants, forehead pressed to yours. “I…”

“Shh,” you say. “I said I’d take care of you, love.” You let your mouth trail over his jawline and down his neck, enjoying the little huffs of breath he lets out. “You deserve to be taken care of.”

You feel him hesitate. It’s always been difficult for him to admit to it, that he is worthy of such gentle, loving attention, but you want to make it known to him that he is.

Your lips descend to his chest, and you swirl your tongue around his erect nipples, drawing small gasps from the adeptus. He soon grows pliant beneath your caresses, and you easily push him down to lie on his back, and place the hem of his shirt in his hands so he can hold it up.

“Keep that there,” you instruct him in between kisses down his abdomen, until you reach his waistband and the tent he’s forming in his pants. His lips are trembling as he looks down at you, already sensitive from your kissing. He attempts to reach down with one hand but you bat it away, prompting him to return to holding his shirt up, and you slowly pull his pants down.

He’s already hard, the tip of his dick starting to leak precum, and you press your palm to its top before sliding it down his shaft and encircling him in a loose fist. You pump him a few times, and lower your head to his hips.

Your eyes flick up towards Xiao’s, and you can see him biting down on his knuckles, unwilling to make noise. You pause in your movements, looking at him meaningfully, and he growls into his skin.

“I want to hear your voice, Xiao,” you tell him, “I want to hear the sounds you make when you’re feeling good.” With your other hand, you let your nails dig into the muscle of his thigh.

He gasps at the sudden pain, releasing his hand from his teeth, then frowns at you, but you’re already smoothing the hurt over with kisses, getting closer to his cock.

“Don’t hold back,” you tell him. “That’s an order.”

He only grunts in response, but you stop moving and give him a pointed look until he says, “…I won’t.”

Pleased, you finally give attention to his cock. You start to leave a line of small, light kisses up the side of his shaft, lips fluttering over his heated skin until he’s gasping and barely stopping himself from bucking his hips in search of more friction.

“Good boy,” you say, “you’re following my instruction.”

He mewls as you give tiny licks to his cockhead, tasting the slightly salty flavor of precum, before swallowing it whole and sealing your lips over his shaft.

“Aa-ah!” He trembles, suddenly engulfed by the wet heat of your mouth. You close your fist around him and pump in tandem with your head, slowly building the intensity until his eyes glaze over and his hands threaten to rip the fabric of his top. All the while, he moans and whimpers, and you can see how his lips tremble in embarrassment before letting the sounds out.

You release him with a pop and his hazy stare goes to you, hips chasing after your face only to be stopped by a hand on his hip. You look down at him, and he’s so cute, panting underneath you, you can’t help but grin.

“You look so cute like this,” you tell him, “feeling good under me. I like how you’re moaning too~”

His eyes widen and then his brow clenches, blushing hard at your praise. You give him a little kiss on the nose, his lashes fluttering at the contact. He had been getting close, you could tell, but you wanted to tease him some more.

You push his legs up and spread them, using your thumbs to massage around the cleft of his ass.

“Aah!” A high-pitched gasp leaves him, your fingers having taken him by surprise. His golden eyes fly towards you, in between his thighs, spreading his asscheeks to have access to his entrance.

“Nnh… that’s…” He bites his lip and trails off, apparently lost for words. You grope around for the bottle of oil you keep in your nightstand before spreading some over his hole, then continuing to massage around it, loosening up some of the tension in his muscles.

Apparently you’re taking too long, because he growls and says “Stop teasing,” which might have sounded threatening if not for the pleading, high-pitched note in his voice. At his demand, you let your nails dig in to the meat of his thigh—not too hard, but just hard enough to draw a small hiss of pain from your mewling lover.

“I said I’d take care of you, and I will,” you tell him. “Or don’t you trust me, baby?”

He grumbles and has to avert his eyes before saying, “…Yes. I do. Sorry.”

Xiao chews on his lip when you slip one finger inside, then eventually another. His small gasps are coming out in an uneven staccato, his hips writhing slightly as he tries to get your hand to hit that sweet spot inside of him. You settle in between his legs, adding a third finger, and he moans, clenching at the bedsheets.

“Fuck,” he groans, “please, deeper.”

You do as he says and curl your fingers as you drag them against his insides, and he all but howls when you press against his prostate.

“Y-Yes! There—ngh,” he gasps, opening his bleary eyes, looking down at you in a daze. You smile, keeping your fingers buried inside him, and grip the base of his still hard cock tightly. Sweat is sticking his dark fringe to his forehead and beading on his skin.

He presses the back of his hand to his mouth, his hips rutting into your fist, but you’re not moving, holding him too tightly. Rather than giving him pleasure, your hand is keeping him from cumming, even as you continue to pump your fingers inside of his tight hole.

“Please let me cum,” he begs, stilling his hips with effort, his thighs shaking as you keep thrusting at his prostate. He whimpers, clearly at the edge and overwhelmed at the sensation of being so close and denied his release.

“You can hold on for me,” you coo, your voice sweet. “You’re taking my fingers in so easily. You look so hot begging for me, I want to see more of it. Can you spread yourself open, baby boy?”

Panting, he lets out little huffs of breath as he bends his legs up, pressing his thighs against his chest, opening his legs wider. His face is bright red, his voice growing in volume when you resume thrusting your fingers and lower your head to take him in your mouth again.

Xiao sobs, the warm heat of your mouth engulfing his weeping cock, driving him closer to his peak even as you still grip his base.

You drag your tongue along his length in time with your fingers on his sweet spot, and he bites his lip bloody.

He all but screams, his hips and thighs shaking. His eyes are glazed and he seems lost for words, aware of nothing but the sensations your hands and mouth are giving him.

“I need to cum,” he cries, “c-close, please—”

He’s held out for long enough. You drag the hand on his shaft up along with your mouth, sealing your lips around his sensitive head, while aiming for his prostate once again. Like clockwork, his fists clench in the sheets and he cums, spilling down your throat.

You swallow down the salty, bitter taste of his spend, hearing him begin to quiet above you, but you're not done with him yet. You nudge again at his spot and give his cockhead a broad lick before sucking him back in.

He makes a noise of surprise, trying to watch as you don’t stop, but his entire body shivers from the overstimulation, and he's unable to prop himself up, instead shaking and boneless under your hands and mouth on the bed.

You pull your mouth off him for just a brief moment and say, “You said you needed to cum, baby. So be good and cum for me some more, huh?” You lock your eyes with his blurry gaze and keep them there as you begin to suck him off again.

“Ngghh,” he groans, and it doesn’t take too long until he’s shaking and fully hard again, and close to a second orgasm. When you feel him approaching his peak, you release his cock from your mouth, pulling a frustrated groan from Xiao as he cums a second time, a dry one, as his hips bear down on your fingers inside him.

“Good boy, Xiao,” you say when his lashes flutter open, slits of gold peering at you.

His whole body is trembling even after you pull your fingers out of him, and you kiss his sweat-slicked brow before wiping his cum off his stomach. He finally lets go of the sheets and then blinks at the torn fabric that falls from his hands.

“…You ripped the sheets,” you say with a laugh. “Was it that good?”

He grumbles again, turning on his side. “You kept going. I’m blaming you.”

Still smiling, you slide into bed behind him, and lay an arm around his waist. You can feel his soft exhale when you wrap around him, and he subtly nudges himself back, further into your embrace.

“You did well, baby,” you tell him, kissing at the sensitive spot under his ear.

“…Thank you,” he mutters, and you almost don’t hear it. You pull him close, nuzzle your cheek into his dark hair.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Nothing answers you but the sounds of soft breath, and when you check, Xiao’s fallen asleep.

You pull the blanket over the both of you, making a mental note to have them repaired in the morning. “Good night, Xiao.”

#chirumi #xiao x reader #xiao #genshin impact #genshin x reader #xiao x you #genshin smut #fanfiction #sub xiao

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jishyucks · 3 years

Text

The L Word ‣ hjs

‣ genre: angst with a fluffy ending, arranged marriage, sort of modern royalty (rich kid!au), female reader

‣ wc: 2.1k

‣ summary: “Tell me, Han. Has she ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”; in which Jisung's afraid that Y/N's going to leave him in rising of rumors but learns he shouldn't judge a situation from the words of others

‣ warnings?: The Hwang 'sibs' are mean in this (just a bit), lowkey rushed, jisung runs off because of overthinking

Looking at the ballroom’s appearance, Jisung feels as though he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Like some puzzle piece placed in the wrong box. The people attending the party lived lavish lifestyles, knowing the difference between the different forks placed at the tables. Etiquette was more important to them than the basics a middle-class person would even care about.

Though Jisung had good ideas of such subjects, it wasn't forced onto him like those around him. The only reason why he was able to attend the party was because of a marriage arrangement your father and his father had made as some kind of sick ‘contract’ regarding business. Though he wasn’t complaining, feelings for you developed through the years of knowing you since childhood, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about a handful of things.

For one, you guys were engaged through the arrangement. It’s been three years since the announcement, and even if Jisung believed you were fine with it, even if you ensured to Jisung that you were happy with the engagement, intrusive thoughts started keeping him up at night.

He knew you. You hated speaking out your feelings, whether it led to consequences or not. What if you actually weren’t fine with it? What if you were somehow threatened by your father and the contract to actually speak out about the engagement? He didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him.

Then there was his family’s reputation. His family was deemed drastically poorer than yours by the other associated families and businesses. He was afraid of tainting your family’s reputation or seeming like one of those leeches found at the bottom of murky ponds. Though it was an arranged marriage, Jisung had genuine feelings for you. It was his father that was in it for the money and Jisung was nothing like his father.

“Hey, scrounger!” Jisung turned to find Hyunjin and his sister Yeji approaching him from the opposite corner of the room. They both were dressed in clothes that were probably a lot more expensive than his own, his clothes being hand-me-downs from his father.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yeji smirked, “You don’t even have business here.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, eyeing down the boy.

Jisung didn’t cower under their gaze, instead of straightening his back, “I’m here because I was invited. My father was invited as well.” Don’t show fear, he told himself, That’s what they want.

“Ahh~,” Hyunjin chuckled, “Good way to disguise 'because of Y/N.' Tell me, Han. Has Y/N ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”

Yeji butted in, laughing, “I think love is too strong of a word… how ‘bout like? Has she ever told you that she liked you? Cause rumor has it she’s planning on breaking your engagement.”

Jisung gulped, “S-she has… and gossip is bullshit.” He lied. When the arrangement was created, there was some kind of unspoken assumption that you both liked each other. As a result of this, no confessions were made from you both. Sure it was stupid, but in Jisung’s eyes, actions spoke louder than words, and just by how he treated you and you treated him, you both cared very much for each other. Of course, other people never paid attention to actions and relied on direct statements.

“We don’t gossip, Han,” Hyunjin scoffs, “Who would pass up the opportunity to marry Bang Chan when he’s the son of the top businessman in all of Korea?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, eyed widening slightly at the mention of Bang Chan’s name.

“His father apparently wanted to create a deal with her father that was a lot better than his deal with yours,” Hyunjin explained, “Isn’t your engagement part of that poorer deal?”

Jisung chose not to reply, biting his tongue. Instead, he shoots Hyunjin a narrowed glare, not up for defending himself or arguing. With the lack of response from their target, the siblings simply rolled their eyes and walked away, taking a seat at their designated table.

When the attention was diverted away from him, Jisung couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall. He feels his heart beating quicker than at rest, thoughts running through his mind like crazy. You wouldn’t leave him just like that right? You wouldn’t.

Then his mind wanders back to Hyunjin and Yeji’s question. Yes, he did think that actions were undoubtedly stronger than words, but now that a spotlight was shone on the hidden yet obvious fact that you both hadn’t said anything about each others’ feelings, he couldn’t help but believe that you could possibly be leaving him. But then again, he has never said anything to you and his feelings existed.

He felt the sudden urge to look for you, who had been busy accompanying your father with the guests. Maybe he will actually confess how he truly felt, just in case you were actually thinking about breaking the engagement. Maybe he could save it somehow, just in case your father was willing to make the deal with Mr. Bang.

Chewing the bottom of his lip, he scanned the room, looking for the lavender dress you were wearing. But with the clumps of people, his line of sight was constantly stopped abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled politely, making his way through the crowd, “Excuse me.” He ignored the looks some people gave him, still slithering his way between the socializing people. Though his hair was parted in a way that exposed part of his forehead, he felt the need to hide under his bangs, keeping his head low as he did.

The familiar sound of your father’s laugh drove Jisung to stop and look around his area. If he was close, you’d be close. Scanning his surroundings completely, he finally spots your father, with you standing close beside him. He feels a smile rise on his lips as he begins to make his way towards you both, heartbeat racing just as his thoughts were.

Opening his mouth to call out for you, he quickly stops himself when he realizes that you and your father were holding a conversation with Bang Chan and his own father. His feet abruptly stop, allowing him to overhear the exchange of banter.

“Well, it was a pleasure having this conversation with you,” Mr. Bang chuckled, “I will see you on Monday for the papers?” He held a hand out for a handshake, a smile filled with pride appearing on his lips.

Your father nodded, “Likewise. I’m looking forward to it.” He completes the handshake, which then queues for Chan to lean in for a hug.

Shit, Jisung gulps, feeling his heart drop to his stomach, What the hell just happened?

You take a step forward and hug Chan back for a brief second before pulling back, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here, Chan.”

Chan’s dimples appeared as he smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jisung was frozen on the spot, unsure whether or not he should say anything. The notes that he had mentally jotted down in his head were suddenly ripped into pieces and he was practically speechless.

Obliviously, you turn to follow your father, who was already ready to move on to another conversation. Mid-turn, the boy dressed in a striped, navy suit had caught your attention, giving him a double-take, “Oh! Jisung!” The corners of your mouth rise higher, eyes lighting up at the sight of the familiar boy. A wave of comfort washed over you. It was refreshing to see him after interacting with so many strangers and acquaintances.

When you go to approach him, Jisung panics and begins to back into the people behind him. It was then you noticed the look of distraught on his face, causing you to speed up. At this, he turns and runs, causing commotion around him as dodges those who got in his way.

“Jisung!” You called out, turning the heads of those people around you. The music had drowned your voice out from those further away from you, “Jisung!?” You begin making your way through the crowd of people, going as fast as you could in heels so that you wouldn’t lose Jisung. A million assumptions were running through your head, worry lining each and every one of them.

Swinging the door open, Jisung finds himself stumbling out into the empty corridor of the hotel. With the choice of left and right, Jisung stops and impulsively runs in one direction, not minding where he would end up if kept running.

So you were going to break the engagement… without warning? How were you going to break the news to him? How was he supposed to react once you told him about it all? Happy? Sad? Excited?

You finally reached the door of the ballroom, slipping out rather roughly into the corridor. Your head whips left and right, seeing Jisung’s trailing feet to the right of the hallway, turning the corner. You let out a heavy breath before kicking off your heels, booking it in that direction.

Your mind wanders to why Jisung was running. What did he hear? Was he okay? Could it be what other people were saying again? But Jisung was never usually one to let words get to him.

Jisung lets himself rest once he gets to a secluded room. Judging by its content, he realized that he managed to slip into the coatroom, but he didn’t care. He needed time alone to think. He just needed to process this entire situation.

“Jisung?” He hears you call out. Jisung sinks down at the corner of the room, resting his head against the wall. He stays quiet, resting his forehead against his knees.

The door to the coat room opens, revealing your disheveled figure, “Jisung…” You pause and try to catch your breath, “There… there you are.”

Jisung doesn’t lift his head, afraid that if he did face you, he would burst into tears. He could sense you approaching him, though, settling down beside him. He could feel your dress up against him. Soon he feels your hand take his, holding it tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

When Jisung doesn’t answer, you don’t say anything to push out an explanation. You let the question simmer, resting your head against his shoulder.

At this point, Jisung’s mind was projecting none of his thoughts but static. He didn’t know where to start and what to bring up. How was he supposed to confront you about the engagement?

“I’m happy for you two,” Jisung blurted out quietly, avoiding eye contact, “I really am.” Your ears perked up, confused at what Jisung was going on about.

“I think people will like you both together more than us,” Jisung continued, “Just know that I lo–“

You interrupt him, turning to completely face him, “Jisung, what are you talking about?” You turned your body towards him, completely facing the cowered boy. Though your body language was practically begging for eye contact, Jisung still avoided it, playing with his rings to keep him from losing control over his emotions.

Building up his confidence, Jisung let himself look at you before whispering, “Y/N?” He sniffled quietly.

“Yeah, Sung?”

Jisung gulped and asked, “Do you like me?”

You’re taken aback by the question, not expecting it out of all the questions Jisung could have asked. Is this why he was crying?

“Of course I do, Jisung, what makes you thin–“

“I mean genuinely like me. Do you have feelings for me?” Words were spewing out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying. He could feel his emotions taking control of himself, which often is never a good thing.

“Jisung, I love you, okay? Why do you think otherwise?” The beat of your heart sped up with worry. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern as Jisung’s lips quivered slightly.

“The Hwang's told me you were planning on breaking our engagement because Bang Chan’s father offered a better deal than my father,” he explained quietly. He felt as though that if he spoke any louder, he would break out into tears, “I told them I didn’t believe them… t-then they asked me if you’ve ever told me if you did have feelings for me. I just didn’t know what to think when… when I saw your father accept Mr. Bang’s deal. I was afraid you were actually going to leave me.”

You gently slapped his shoulder in shock, “Han Jisung, are you serious?” Jisung responded wordlessly, though a puzzled look replaced his previous emotion.

“My father approached me beforehand about it. He wanted to break our engagement because of the deal, telling me that it was no longer necessary,” you say, “But I told him I wanted to marry you because I love you, Sung. And if he did threaten to forcibly break our engagement, I would’ve fought for us.”

Jisung wanted to laugh at himself at how much he had overreacted. Overthinking was a bitch and this situation was real-life proof, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sung?”

“I would fight for us too.”

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honeytae · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests or not, but I was hoping I could request something along the lines of where you’re in love with your best friend, taehyung, but he doesn’t know and he’s getting married soon. you don’t tell him how you feel until the night of his wedding when you’re a bit tipsy from drinking your feelings away. you can decide the ending! thank you in advance if you end up writing this! hope you’re doing well and staying safe. Xx

hi darling! i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write. i couldn’t get it to a point where i was satisfied with it for a really long time, i still don’t feel that good about it honestly but hopefully it’s okay for you!!! i tried to make it angsty (yikes) so hopefully it’s not horrible lmao

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters

genre: angst

word count: 1.6k

warnings: um so much heartbreak, oc is a little (very) in denial about the situation and comes off a little toxic tbh, requited love but nothing they can do about it now, mentions of tae going into a panic attack

You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the ‘congratulations to the happy couple,’ nor the Mr. and Mrs. Kim sign practically floating over their heads. You couldn’t handle the copious bouquets and all the preparations that went into this.

And you felt like a complete asshole about it.

Which is precisely why you decided to prematurely exit the event, doing yourself and everyone else a favor by leaving for the night to go sulk in your hotel by your lonesome.

The elevator ride up to your floor was miserable, your own battles within your mind coupled with the fact that your floor was the top one, making the ride excruciatingly long on top of everything else.

Rustling with the hotel key in your bag seemed to take forever as well, finally barging into your half unpacked space with a sigh. You quickly shut the door behind you, hoping you’d been able to sneak away from the hotel lobby without any guests noticing.

Shuffling further into the room, you sat on the edge of the king bed in the center of the room, placing your head in your hands at the mere prospect of this weekend.

Taehyung was getting married. Kim Taehyung, your best friend, the one person you’d been pining for since middle school, would be legally bound to someone else in less than twenty four hours.

Maybe you just shouldn’t have come. Despite sending red flags to Tae, you couldn’t think of a better solution than fleeing at this exact moment. Why did you think you could handle this?

Two knocks against the locked door had your head raising from its resting place, cursing under your breath at someone coming after you.

You didn’t feel well. That would be your excuse.

“Hey, you okay?” Immediately upon opening the door, Taehyung spoke the question out into the air, dark eyebrows knit in concern and kind eyes imploring yours for an answer.

“Hi. I’m fine, just a little tired, Tae.” You pressed your lips together in a hopefully believable smile, the man frowning before nodding at you.

“Me too. Can I come in?” He asked, the question completely innocent however making your heart rate a bit faster at the what if. What if things had gone differently? What if it was still a possibility for things to escalate between you two?

Cut it out. He’s about to be a married man.

You raised your eyebrows at him for a moment, then stepped back to allow him in, putting all your concentration on shutting the wood for a moment as you took a steadying breath.

“What about your party?” You wondered aloud, the man humming as he took a seat on your fully made bed.

“I’m tired of the parties. They’re exhausting.” He chuckled, covering his face with his hands as he reclined back on your bed.

Your heart skipped another beat at the vision, his tight pants leaving little to the imagination and buttons from his dress shirt stretched to new limits with his strained position. Diverting your eyes, you walked over to the desk chair in the corner of your room, reaching for a water bottle out of your mini fridge. Get a fucking grip.

Tossing one over to the bed beside Taehyung, you sat down in the plush seat, grateful that the man didn’t seem to notice your distance from him as you glanced out the window.

Until….

“Are you really okay? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

At his sudden words, you froze, gripping your water a bit tighter as you brought your eyes back to his face. He was closer now than before, having scooted to the edge of your bed to lean toward you, eyes showing concern for you as you shuffled in your seat.

Taehyung was never one to beat around the bush, and at times like this, you really wish he would just brush some things under the rug as easy as you could.

“I’m good, Tae. Just have a lot going on, I guess. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.” You said, hoping to clear the air and dismiss the topic as soon as you possibly could. The man’s stare wasn’t helping your state any.

“No apologies. Just wanted to check in on you.” He sighed, seemingly disappointed with your lack of response before a hideous painting across the room caught his eye.

“What the fuck is that?” He griped, making you chuckle as he sat up to lean toward the art piece, squinting with his lip curled in amusement.

“It’s not so bad.” You shrugged, smirking when he turned back to you in bewilderment. Realizing you were teasing him, his eyes went back to normal size, a smile meeting his own lips at the return of your familiar banter.

“How can you sleep in a room with that shit? I feel like asking for a refund.” He shook his head, making you laugh before taking a swig from your water.

“Somehow I manage.” You replied, twisting the cap back on the bottle with a sigh.

It’s times like these that you feel as though nothing is wrong. Times like these that transport you back to periods of your life when Taehyung was just a call away, and you thought maybe, just maybe, you two had a chance. But that was over now. Those days were no more.

Because Taehyung informing you about a blind date then turned into him in a full blown relationship, a serious one at that, and soon enough they were taking big steps such as meeting the parents, moving in together, and yes, getting engaged.

Your friends had been just as shocked as you were, pitying you with deep sympathetic looks over Taehyungs shoulder as you hugged him in confused congratulations. It had all happened so fast...how did you manage to lose him forever?

Waking up the next day, you felt a particular heaviness on your chest. It was the day before the wedding, the rehearsal dinner turned into an entire day of partying for their guests. A celebratory day, if anything.

But waking up and getting all dolled up for this occasion was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, today or ever. You had always thought that you’d have much more of a starring role in Kim Taehyung’s life. Shaking your head to dismiss those kinds of thoughts, you cursed as you left your hotel room, wondering how the hell you’d be getting through this day.

Four martinis. Four martinis was how you’d be getting through today. The bartender had become one of your closest acquaintances over the past few hours, eyeballing you silently as he poured you yet another cocktail, your demands obvious that you were not drinking out of celebration.

Sitting at the bar, you contemplated everything. From the time you’d met Tae, you had been so sure that you two completed each other. Were you that naive? And fuck, why are you still thinking about this now? It’s over. You and Tae will never be.

Nearly jumping off your stool at a hand suddenly clapping your back, you shifted your gaze over to the arm belonging to Jungkook, one of Taehyung’s youngest yet wisest friends.

“You’re sulking.” He said plainly, dark eyes tracing over your faded features, briefly examining the drink in your hand before shooting the bartender a knowing look.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” You sighed, nearly breaking into a sob when his hand laid over yours, fingers fitting between your own in a comforting gesture. With one glance at the man, you gained all the information you didn’t want.

He knew.

You wondered how long he’d known. Jungkook, being the quiet and relatively introverted person he was, was an observer. He knew everything about everyone it seemed, by not speaking to them at all. He noticed everything.

You just hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes started blinking rapidly, and that he’d instead just go back into the party without another word.

“Neither should you.” He replied to you, his tone holding nothing but concern as he tried to catch your eyes.

You just couldn’t hold it in.

“Well maybe if I wasn’t in love with him I’d be having a better time.” You mumbled, leaning your head down on your hands, elbows pressed to the tops of your thighs, sad and tired as Jungkook froze beside you.

Unbeknownst to you, a concerned Taehyung had also come to find you, stumbling upon that very scene as Jungkook tried to console you.

Meeting eyes with his older friend, Jungkook’s mouth gaped open for a moment, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you cluelessly rambled under your breath about how stupid you were to ever let yourself come here.

With a shaky exhale, Taehyung silently began to put it all together. The way you’d been working constantly lately, picking up every shift you could to decline his repeated attempts at getting together with you, the way you’d ran off last night and brushed it off as you being too tired. It was all adding up.

You were struggling with this as much as he was. Maybe more.

But what Taehyung could do about this years ago was no longer an option, his hands shaking at his sides as he spun on his heel and walked out of the lobby. He could briefly hear Jungkook call for him but ignored it, breathing heavily as he rounded one of the hallways leading to the restrooms.

Unshed tears misted over his eyes as he hugged a corner of the wall, feeling rather unsteady as he leaned his forehead against the cool surface. The burning pain in his chest had him sinking down to the floor in an instant, sobs wracking his shoulders with heightening emotions rising in his throat.

You’d finally given him the green light. And it was too fucking late.

#bts fanfiction #bts member x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts angst #bts reader insert #kim taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung imagines #kim taehyung angst #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagines #taehyung angst #writing #fanfiction #angst #x reader #reader insert

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hockey-fics · 4 years

Text

Should Have Seen it Sooner ~ Vince Dunn

Summary: You make the decision to go visit your brother, Sammy, after graduating university. But that visit quickly becomes much more than you ever would have anticipated.

Warnings: verbal arguments, language, smut (nothing overly detailed)

Word Count: `13.5k

A/N: Let’s all pretend that Vince isn’t about to be traded ahahaha...I’m sad.

Your brother had always been your best friend. Even when you were kids and you refused to do so much as admit you liked him. He was the one who you would run to in the middle of the night when you were six and going through a phase of horrible nightmares. He would walk you back to your room, check under the bed and in the closet and lay with you till you fell asleep again. And when you were a little older and started having bad anxiety at school you would sit in the guidance counsellor’s office and refuse to talk to anyone but Sammy, who they would reluctantly pull out of class to come calm you down. When he had a bad loss in a hockey game he would come home and watch terrible reality tv with you, never wanting to talk about the game. He was the first person to make fun of you when you got a bad haircut but was also the first person to come to your defence when someone else made a comment about it. He picked you up drunk from many highschool parties, promising not to tell mom and dad. You helped him with girl issues, carefully constructing text messages to girls he liked, planning his dates for him and giving him pep talks before those dates.

So when he moved to St. Louis and seemed to be settling in there for awhile you had to admit you were quite upset. Of course growing up with him in hockey you were used to long periods without him, stretches of time when he was on the road. But him moving so far wasn’t easy for you. Then you moved away for university and while it wasn’t any easier, the distraction of new people, new places, and new experiences was enough to make it more bearable.

But once you graduated you were back to square one, realizing you were lost without your brother. So you took your degree and ran straight to St. Louis to spend whatever free time you had between graduating university and starting your life and career with Sammy.

It had been two weeks since you got there, making yourself comfortable in Sammy and Vince’s spare bedroom. You had only briefly met Vince prior to the trip but you were quickly becoming acquainted with him, despite the fact that he spent most of his free time playing video games which you were not about to distract him from.

“Why are you even going on a date?” Sammy asks, sprawled across the guest room bed with his phone in his hands as you stand on the other side of the room in front of the mirror over the dresser, curling your hair. “You’re don’t even live here.”

Glancing at him through the mirror you let a strand of still hot hair fall over your shoulder. “Do you only ever go on dates if you’re imagining spending the rest of your life with the person?”

Sammy looks over at you, his nose crinkling. “Gross.”

“What?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you set your curling iron down, turning around to look at Sammy.

“You’re just going on a date with this guy to get fuck-.”

“Stop,” you exclaim, eyes widening. The last thing you wanted was your older brother thinking about your sex life. “No, I’m just meeting people, going out, having fun. I’m not just trying to get…fucked,” you tell him, turning around to look back into the mirror and continue on with your hair. “If that was the case I wouldn’t be putting this much effort into my appearance when it’ll just get wrecked in-.”

“No,” Sammy exclaims, pushing himself up off your bed. “I don’t want to hear it.” Laughing you watch him walk out of your room, shaking his head.

An hour later you’re in Sammy’s car after he convinced you to let him drive you to your date instead of taking an Uber. “Call me when you want me to pick you up,” Sammy tells you as you climb out of your car.

“Okay, dad,” you joke, rolling your eyes as you say your goodbye to Sammy, closing the door.

And call Sammy you did, only it was much earlier than you had expected. The date had gone terribly. It was only twenty minutes into the date, the drinks you had ordered not even at your table yet, when he suggested just leaving and going back to his place. And the suggestive comments didn’t stop, till ten minutes later and you were wondering if he was even going to let you leave at the end of the night without putting up a fight. So you excused yourself to the bathroom, pulling your phone out and dialling Sammy’s number. But he didn’t answer. So you called again, and he didn’t answer. Four more times and you were about to hang up and get an Uber when the dial tone cuts out.

“He didn’t answer the first ten times, why would he answer now?” It’s Vince’s voice, annoyed but also distant and you’re pretty sure that means he’s in the middle of gaming.

“Where’s Sammy?”

“The shower,” Vince tells you, too preoccupied with what he was doing to even so much as question the six, back-to-back phone calls.

“Can you tell him to come pick me up as soon as he’s out of the shower?” You ask, sniffling as you feel an overwhelming wash of panic come over you. This meant you would have to go back and sit with that man for even longer. “Or, could you just go like knock on the door? Tell him to hurry…please?”

“What’s wrong?” Vince asks, his tone shifting slightly.

“I…he-he’s weird,” you mutter, anxiously running your fingers through your hair. “Creepy,” you add, making him aware that it wasn’t a matter of simply not clicking on a first date.

“Text me the restaurant you’re at.”

“What? Sammy knows,” you tell him.

“I’m coming to get you.”

You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to. You hated burdening people, hated asking for help. But that was far outweighed by your anxiety about the man at the table on the other side of the restaurant. “Thank you, I’ll text it to you now,” you tell him, saying a quick goodbye before hanging up and texting the address to Vince.

’on my way’ Vince sends back immediately.

You spend another few minutes in the bathroom before heading out to the restaurant, slowly making your way to the table. “Hey, I just got a text from my friend. I have to leave,” you tell him, leaving a ten dollar bill on the table, more than enough to cover the drink you ordered but never even got a sip of.

Outside you stand near the entrance of the restaurant, not wanting to stray too far from the brightly lit entrance. You’re surprised when you see Vince’s car pull up in front of you. Not because you didn’t think he would show up, but because you weren’t expecting him to be there that quickly. Hurrying to the passenger’s side door you hop into his car, silent as you stare out the front window, pulling your seatbelt across your body.

“That bad?” Vince asks, putting his car back in drive and pulling away from the restaurant.

“Yes,” is all you’re able to mutter leaning back in your seat, elbow on the window sill as you rest you head in your hand.

“Too bad,” Vince comments, glancing over at you, “You look good tonight, sucks it was wasted on an asshole.”

Your cheeks get warm, palms sweaty, and you’re not sure why. All you can manage to do is glance over at Vince and mutter a simple, “thanks, I guess.”

The next thing you know you’re in a Dairy Queen drive through and Vince is looking over at you. “What do you want?”

“I didn’t…wait, what?” But Vince is pulling up to the speaker before you have any longer to question it so you tell him what you want and wait in silence till he pulls ahead. “I didn’t realize we were getting ice cream.”

“And we’re going to watch that shitty tv show you’re always trying to get Sammy to watch,” Vince tells you, clearly having already constructed a plan for how he was going to turn the night around for you.

“Thank you, Vince,” you whisper and he glances over, eyes meeting yours before shrugging casually, as if it was no big deal. But it was. It was a big deal. He had already gone out of his way to pick you up, something he didn’t need to do. Now he was committing to trying to cheer you up.

Before you know it you’re back at Sammy and Vince’s apartment and Sammy is lost beyond hope regarding the situation. “It’s okay,” you assured Sammy when he asked you about the six phone calls the second you walked through the front door. “Vince came to get me.”

“Why?” Sammy asks, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Because you have terrible timing to go have a shower.” Tugging your jacket off you hang it up on the hook by the door. “I should have listened to you, dating is just a bad idea.”

“Well I didn’t exactly say that,” Sammy mutters, following after you and Vince as you head towards the living room. “What happened?”

“My date was a creep, I called your phone…a few times, and Vince answered after he got annoyed with listening to it ring.”

“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince chimes in, flopping down onto the end of the couch.

Rolling your eyes you glance over at Vince, shaking your head. “Don’t lie, I heard how annoyed you were.”

“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince repeats, eyes locked on yours.

“Fine,” you comment, but you were still convinced it was a lie and he was just trying not to sound like an asshole after finding out about the situation. “We’re going to watch Selling Sunset, want to join?”

Sammy furrows his eyebrows, glancing over at Vince. “You’re going to watch Selling Sunset?” He asks, directing his question at Vince.

Walking over you sit down on the opposite end of the couch from Vince, pulling your legs and crossing them as you reach for the remote.

“Yeah,” Vince replies, looking over at Sammy while grabbing the remote for you and handing it to you.

Sammy stands in a stunned silence for a minute, staring at Vince in disbelief. He could barely ever convince Vince to let him pick a series and now here he was, willing to watch a reality tv show about Los Angeles real estate. “Okay,” Sammy finally mutters, settling into the love seat on the other side of the room, exchanging silent glances with you. Silent glances that asked, ‘what’s going on?’ But you couldn’t answer, verbally or silently, because you weren’t really sure where this behaviour was coming from with Vince.

A few episodes later and you decide to put Vince and Sammy, who were trying their best to seem like they actually cared about what was on the screen, out of their misery. “I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, handing the remote to Vince as you push yourself off the couch, stretching your arms over your head. “Thanks again, for everything tonight,” you tell Vince.

“Anytime,” he replies, watching as you walk out of the living room and into the guest room down the hall.

It’s not long before there’s a knock on your door and you look up from where you were laying on the bed scrolling through your phone. Sammy pushes the door open, taking two bounding steps before throwing himself onto your bed. “What happened tonight?” He asks, his tone a serious shift from his actions of throwing himself around like a ragdoll.

Shrugging you lock your phone, setting it down and adjusting higher on your pillow so you could see your brother without fully committing to actually sitting up. “My date was just creepy…he kept trying to get me to leave with him like 5 minutes into the date.”

Sammy visibly tenses up when he hears this, shifting to sit up as he looks down at you. “So you called Vince?”

“I called you,” you exclaim, laughing as you reach other, grabbing a pillow and swinging it towards him. “But you seemed to think the date was going to last longer than half an hour.”

“I’m sorry,” Sammy tells you, and you can tell that he really means it. Normally you were sure he wouldn’t care about not being able to pick you up at the exact moment you wanted him to. He was your brother after all, he cared, but he wasn’t sweet about it. This was just a different type of situation, you knew it, he knew it, and thankfully, Vince had figured that out too.

“It’s fine, I just won’t rely on you…ever again,” you joke.

“That’ll last like twenty minutes,” Sammy replies, laying back down along the foot of your bed. “Till you find a spider in your room and refuse to come back in till I kill it for you.”

“Don’t put that in the universe, that’s so mean to wish that upon me.”

You and Sammy continue talking till you’re about to drift off to sleep and he sneaks out of your room, like he did when you were six and had a nightmare.

A couple days later Sammy and Vince had to go on a five day road trip and you considered going home, brought up the idea to Sammy. He pointed out the fact that you had a key to the apartment, you had gotten comfortable there, and it was only five days. So you agreed to stay, relatively easily at that. Because if you were being honest, you missed being around Sammy, and you were happier there than you had been in awhile.

The morning they were leaving you were saying your goodbyes, hugging Sammy quickly. “Good luck, I’ll miss you. I promise I won’t throw any parties,” you joked. You were used to sad goodbyes with Sammy, after he would come home during the summer and you would have to say goodbye for months. This one felt so different though, knowing it was only a few days apart. It was comforting.

When you pulled away you looked over at Vince, hesitating a second before throwing your arms around him too. “Good luck,” you told him, his arms tight around your waist. It was different than your hug with Sammy, of course it would be, but you weren’t prepared for just how different. You weren’t prepared for the the scent of his cologne, the way he held you tight to his body, the warmth radiating from him, would make your stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll miss you as well,” you added, playing it off as a joke, but you knew it wasn’t really a joke.

Vince had chuckled in response, your body absorbing the way his laughter rumbled through his body. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine with the quiet tone of his voice. He had pulled away, looking at you once more before the two of them headed out.

You went about your normal routine while they were gone but the quietness of the apartment was starting to get to you around day three, leaving you longing for not just your brother but Vince as well, to be back. So when Sammy told you the time they would be back you went all out, going grocery shopping and picking up all of Sammy’s favourite foods and the few you remember Vince mentioning liking. And you were halfway through cooking dinner for everyone when they got back from their trip.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, sautéing a pan full of vegetables, music playing loudly from the speaker on the counter a few feet away. “I’m making dinner, if you guys already ate I’m going to be sad.”

“We didn’t.” Shockingly it’s Vince who’s greets you first, walking up behind you and leaning over your shoulder to look into the pan.

“How was the flight home?” You ask, turning your head to glance up at Vince. He’s closer than you expected and you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. You’re convinced it’s because you’re just glad to have people around again, and not because you had really started to like Vince.

“Pretty good,” Vince tells you, stepping to the side to lean against the counter beside the stove. “How was your week alone in my house?”

Rolling your eyes you set the spatula down beside the stove, looking up at him. “Fantastic, your bed is so much more comfortable than the one in the guest room.”

“Oh, really?” Vince chuckles. “I’m willing to share.”

You’re caught off guard by Vince’s comment, unable to come up with a witty response before Sammy is in the room as well. “What are you making?” Sammy asks, walking over and giving you a quick hug before immediately plugging his phone into the nearest outlet and unlocking his phone, typing quickly.

“Stir fry…who are you talking to?” You ask Sammy, your tone teasing.

Sammy shakes his head but his little smile tells you that it’s not nothing. “Ooh,” you laugh, stepping away from the stove to try to look at Sammy’s phone. But he pulls it away quickly and the next thing you know you’re wrestling for Sammy’s phone like you’re both teenagers again. “Just tell me,” you laugh, hand grasping for his phone as he pushes your arm back with his free hand.

“Her name is Anna,” Vince says.

Pulling back from Sammy you glance over at Vince, shocked at his willingness to let you in on Sammy’s business. “Oh,” you hum, picking up the spatula again to stir the vegetables in the pan. “So, who’s Anna?”

“A girl I’ve been talking to for a few weeks,” Sammy tells you easily. There was never really any need to keep it a secret, he was just playing the part of an annoying older brother in trying to keep it a secret. “We went on a date a couple days before we left.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going on a date?”

“I actually didn’t think it would lead to anything,” Sammy confesses.

“Like Y/N’s dating life,” Vince quips.

You whip your head in Vince’s direction, gasping at his comment. “You’re an asshole,” you exclaim, laughing. “I’ll let you know, I could have a boyfriend if I wanted…I’m just not trying right now.”

“Seemed like you were trying,” Vince chuckles.

“I swear to god, Vince,” you mutter, wielding the spatula you were holding with a joking threat.

“Can one of you shut up so we don’t burn the house down, please,” Sammy chimes in and draws your attention back to the vegetables that were starting to stick to the pan. As you go back to finishing up dinner the boys continue on with their own conversations, discussing things that happened over the trip and the upcoming schedule for the week.

After you all finish dinner you’re back in the kitchen to tidy up and do some dishes, but Vince is at your side at the sink quickly after. Nudging you to the side Vince grabs the wash cloth from your hand. “I got it,” he tells you.

“I don’t mind,” you retort, not moving much further away from the beside the sink. “I’m sure you guys are tired.”

“I slept on the flight,” Vince informs you, running the cloth over a mixing bowl in the sink.

Huffing you step away from him, “fine.” Walking to the cupboard you grab the box of tea you bought a few days prior, taking a mug down as well as you turn the kettle on. “Want some tea?”

Vince chuckles, an obvious enough answer, but he follows it up with “no, thanks,” anyway. “So did you go on anymore dates while we were gone?”

Rolling your eyes you hop up onto the counter while you wait for your tea to steep, watching Vince do the dishes. “No, nobody here was to rescue me if it went poorly.”

“So what did you actually do the whole time we were gone?”

Shrugging you bring the tea to your lips, taking a sip of the hot liquid. “Hung out with some friends a few times, explored the city, watched all your games.”

“Friends?”

“Yes, Vince, I’m capable of making friends,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Vince chuckles, glancing over at you. “I just mean, like, you’re just here visiting and you’re still making friends? Where did you meet them anyway?”

“The gym,” you inform him, your voice quiet and deflated. You didn’t really like to think about that fact, about the reality that you would have to make some kind of move soon. You couldn’t live in this vacation-like reality forever. No matter how much you wanted to.

After the dishes are done Vince heads to his computer to play video games and you head to the living room to watch some TV till Sammy was done unpacking and you could convince him to hang out with you and give you all the details about Anna.

And two days later Sammy was beyond glad that he had given you all the details about Anna when he sent you a panicky text. The boys had the day off and Sammy had gone out to run a few errands while you were hanging out at the house with Vince. ‘I told Anna I would cook her dinner at my place.’

‘that’s dumb, you can’t cook’ you replied quickly, sitting on the couch and watching Vince play video games. You were trying to be more involved with that after he had started watching the occasional episode of Selling Sunset with you.

‘that’s not the issue’ ‘I’ll figure that out’ ‘You and Vince can’t be there, it’ll be awkward’

Sighing you glance up from your phone screen to Vince. “Vince,” you call, standing up from the couch and making your way across the room. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” Vince mutters, not peeling his eyes off the screen in front of him.

“I don’t know,” you confess while sending Sammy a text to tell him you were on it, to give you twenty minutes and you’d be out. “Sammy is kicking us out.”

“What?” Vince asks, spinning in his chair once his game had ended.

“He needs the apartment for a date, now hurry up, we’re going out for awhile.”

Vince groans and sets his controller down, reluctantly pulling himself off the chair. “I didn’t agree to this.”

“I agreed on your behalf.” Walking into your room you grab a jacket, your wallet, and keys before hurrying back towards the door where Vince was already pulling on his shoes. “Have anything you needed to get done?” You ask him once you had your shoes on and you were on your way out the door behind Vince.

“I would have already been doing it.”

Rolling your eyes you reach forward and shove him playfully. “If you don’t stop being an asshole I’ll drop you off at the library for four hours.”

“It’s my car…and I’m driving.”

“No, please, let me drive,” you ask, shuffling quickly in front of him and spinning around so you were facing him. Sammy had given you permission to drive his car while he was out of town and you had loved exploring the city, not really knowing where you were going, just driving.

“No, I’ve seen you drive.” Vince keeps his hand folded firmly over his car keys, gazing down at you.

“That was one time,” you defend.

“One time we almost died.”

Rolling your eyes you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re so dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.”

Suddenly Vince has his hands on your arms and he’s spinning you around, pushing you towards the car. “Get in the car,” his voice is filled with urgency and you notice Sammy pulling up towards the apartment parking lot.

Giggling at the whole situation you hop into his car, watching Sammy pull into his parking stall. Neither you or Vince had to bring up the idea of staying in the car and doing a little light-hearted spying, you were silently on board with the idea. You watch Sammy get out, trying to make it to the passenger’s side of the car to open Anna’s door but she’s already getting out and you watch as the awkwardly fumble around the door for a second. Both you and Vince glance over at each other at the same, bursting into laughter.

“No, but they are cute together,” you comment through your giggles, watching as they laugh off the exchange, Sammy closing the door behind her.

“He wouldn’t shut up about her over the trip.”

“That’s cute.” You watch as they head into the apartment building together before turning your attention back to Vince. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Vince turns his car on, putting it into drive and pulling out of the parking lot, no real destination in mind.

“You must have someone you can’t shut up about…I mean, look at you,” you comment absentmindedly, not really thinking about how it would come across.

“Are you calling me hot, Y/N?”

“Well,” you hum, laughing as your cheeks redden slightly. “I think it’s like, objective, you know. Anyone would say you’re hot.”

“So you don’t personally find me hot?”

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, shaking your head as Vince simply chuckles. He was really trying his hardest to keep you from getting out of that one easily. “Where are we going?”

“The library, I’m leaving you there,” Vince jokes.

“Great, books are more entertaining than you anyway,” you quip.

“I was going to take you to get a coffee but maybe not now.”

“No,” you whine, laughing. Vince had clearly noticed when all three of you would get in the car to go anywhere the first time thing out of your mouth was ‘can we get a coffee’? “I take it back then.”

So a few minutes later you’re in the drive through at Starbucks and you don’t even need to tell Vince your order because he has it memorized, which you’re surprised by. He pays for your coffee even though you insist that you can buy it. Then you’re driving again and you end up parked in front of a shoe store.

“I actually did have something I needed to get done,” Vince tells you, chuckling.

“Oh, so you were just being rude for no good reason then,” you comment, hoping out of the car after him and walking towards the store with Vince. “Does this mean I get to help you pick shoes?”

“Uh,” Vince mutters, glancing down to your shoes. “No.”

“Take me to the library, you’re so mean,” you whine, playfully pushing his arm.

Vince laughs, reaching over and grabbing your hand as you push him. “Come on,” he huffs jokingly, pulling you along into the store. And you suddenly can’t focus on anything but his hand, the way it so easily wrapped around yours, warm and secure. But it makes you nervous, the way it causes butterflies to fill your stomach, so you pull it away quickly.

You’re in the shoe store much longer than you though, Vince taking an excessively long amount of time to make a decision. But you don’t mind because in all honesty, you simply liked being around Vince. Your next stop is for dinner and Vince picks the restaurant, still acting as an unofficial tour guide for you.

By the time dinner is over you had expected to receive a text from Sammy, letting you know that it was fine to come home. But you get nothing, so you and Vince go get ice cream and drive to a lookout, listening to music and eating your dessert. Your conversation flows easily and you would happily have sat there for hours with Vince, talking and joking. But you get a text message from Sammy shortly after telling you he was taking Anna home.

“We’re safe to go back,” you tell Vince, pulling your seatbelt back on.

“Too bad,” Vince mutters.

“What?”

Vince glances across the interior of the car at you, silent for a second as he tugs his seatbelt on. “It’s just been more fun than I thought this would be.”

“I don’t know how to take that,” you laugh. It was nice to hear he had been having a good time, but you didn’t know if you should be upset that he was anticipating it not being a very good time.

Vince chuckles, not saying anything else about it as the two of you drive back to the apartment. You’re back before Sammy and you head for the living room, Vince following after you and not putting saying anything as you pick the movie for the night.

‘going to get an uber now’

You had gone out with your new group of friends for the night, one drink turning to two and two turning to a count you had lost long ago. You had been texting Vince all night, though it wasn’t anything new. The two of you had fallen into a routine of texting almost anytime you were apart. He had picked up on your dwindling sobriety throughout the night, as almost anyone reading your messages could have. So when you told him you were getting an Uber he was quick to reply.

‘I’ll come get you, where are you?’

So you sent him your address, you and your friends paying your bills before heading outside for everyone to wait for their rides. Shockingly it’s Vince who shows up first and your friends are quick to make comments about how none of their real boyfriends were that quick to get there. You brushed it all off, making excuses that he was just a good friend, that he was probably speeding anyway, that you didn’t live that far. Anything to not admit the fact that you and Vince might have a connection that was becoming more than just friendly.

“Hi,” you greet, cheerful as you climb into Vince’s car. It was so unlike the first time he picked you up and Vince was grateful for that, not just because you were in a better mood but also because it meant you hadn’t been out on a date.

“How was your night?” Vince laughs.

“Good,” you giggle, looking over at him as he drives back to the apartment. And you can’t help but think about how attractive he truly was, how he made your heart beat just a little faster. He was your brother’s best friend and you knew the feelings you were having towards him were complicated. “Yours?”

“Probably not as good as yours,” he jokes, taking note of the way you couldn’t stop smiling, primarily a result of the alcohol in your system. But there was also a part of you that was just happy to be around him.

“So anyway, Michael has been staying late at work all the time and Lily is starting to get suspicious about it,” you ramble as you walk through the apartment door with Vince. It’s quiet in the apartment and you realize you hadn’t texted Sammy in awhile, wondering if he was in bed. “Sammy?” You call, stumbling slightly over the edge of the doormat.

Vince wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you as he laughs. “He’s in bed,” Vince tells you. “What do you need?”

“Nothing,” you admit, clutching onto the arm Vince had wrapped around your waist. “Just wanted to say hi to him.”

Vince chuckles and nods. “I think you should go to bed too.” He gently guides you further into the apartment, reaching over to turn the deadbolt on the door while keeping one arm around you, as if you couldn’t stand on your own.

“Hey, Vince,” you whisper although you didn’t need to get his attention.

“Yes, Y/N?” He steps closer now, looking down at you in the silent apartment, waiting to hear what your drunk mind was coming up with.

“Thank you, for everything, for letting me stay here this long. I promise I’ll leave soon. I know you didn’t sign up to have two roommates.”

Vince smiles softly, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it. I like having you here. I don’t, you know, want you to leave if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh,” you whisper, processing the idea that you weren’t annoying Vince with your extended stay. “I mean it though, thank you.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Vince says, changing the subject as he guides you through the apartment to the guest bedroom. He hovers near the doorway, clearly wanting to make sure you were settled in bed before leaving you.

You knew he was there, you knew you should ask him to look away if he wanted to stay till you were in bed, but you don’t. Instead you simply pull your shirt up over your head, exposing a lacy black bra you had worn for no real reason except that it made you feel confident. Shimmying your jeans down your legs you toss them aside carelessly. You don’t even look over at Vince as you reach behind you to unhook that bra, missing the way he stood there, stunned and frozen with his eyes on you. You let your bra fall to the ground, your body angled away from Vince as you grab a t-shirt from the dresser.

“Y/N?” Sammy’s voice calls through the apartment.

“Fuck,” you mutter, clutching the shirt to your bare chest. Your wide eyes look over at Vince who comically steps back and forth between the wide-open bedroom door, clearly not knowing what the correct move was. “Just close it.” And Vince does exactly that, from the inside. “Vince,” you groan.

“You told me to,” he defends, his hand still resting on the doorknob.

“From outside,” you tell him. “Now this just looks…weird.”

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Sammy calls through the closed bedroom door.

“Yeah,” you call back, spinning around to leave your back facing Vince as you pull your t-shirt on, grateful for the size and length of it. “Just getting ready for bed.”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Home. Your eyes flick over to Vince, trying to see if he caught onto the same, subtle insinuation. But he still just looked panicky as he stands beside the closed door. “Yeah, I’m just going to bed now.”

“Can I come in and say goodnight?”

Your heart begins to race as stare at Vince in silence for a second. “Yeah.”

You couldn’t say no, he would immediately know that something was wrong. Sammy pushes the door open a second later and Vince looks to you in panic. “How was-,” Sammy begins to ask when he spots Vince, looking back and forth between the two of you. “What’s going on?”

You weren’t sure why you felt so guilty. You hadn’t done anything with Vince, it wasn’t a lie to say that nothing was happening, that he was just making sure you got to bed safely. Maybe the reason you felt so guilty was because that wasn’t all you wanted to happen. “Vince picked me up, was just making sure I got to bed safely.”

Sammy nods slowly, not seeming convinced. “Well I got it from here,” he mutters to Vince, nodding towards the still open door. Vince glances back at you one more time before leaving, the silence in the room painful. “What’s going on?” Sammy repeats once it’s just you and him.

“Nothing,” you exclaim, flopping down onto your bed and climbing under the covers, hoping to make it obvious that you didn’t have anything else to say.

“You two are getting really close,” Sammy points out. “Are you sure it’s nothing?”

“Yes,” you huff, dramatically yanking your blankets higher up around your shoulders. “Go back to bed.”

“Don’t have to be so moody,” Sammy grumbles, turning off your light and closing the door behind him as he leaves your room. Once he’s gone you lay awake for most of the night, your mind racing with thoughts of Vince. Thoughts you knew you shouldn’t be feeling towards him but the more you tried to think of anything other than him the more vivid the thoughts became till your mind eventually silenced itself completely and you drifted to sleep.

“I’m spending the night at Anna’s place,” Sammy told you a few days later as he was grabbing his keys off the counter and heading for the door.

Giggling you glance up from the book you were reading, shooting him a knowing look.

“Don’t be weird,” he comments, chuckling.

“What do you mean? I didn’t say anything,” you joke, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know where Vince is, he left while you were at the gym, don’t know when he’ll be back,” Sammy informs.

“Have fun tonight,” you call as he walks out the front door.

A few hours later you’ve migrated to the kitchen, finishing up baking some cookies while you were trying to figure out how you wanted to spend the rest of the evening.

“Hey.”

Jumping you whirl around to face the direction of that the sudden voice comes from. Bringing your hand to your chest over your racing heart you laugh in relief when you see it’s just Vince. “You scared me, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” Vince chuckles, reaching over and taking one of the cookies off the cooling rack on the counter. “Where’s Sammy?”

“He’s at Anna’s place for the night,” you explain, leaning against the counter. “Are they good? It’s a new recipe.”

“Yeah, really good. So we’re alone tonight?” Vince asks, elbows on the counter as he leans against it, eyes focused on you.

“Can’t believe he left us without supervision,” you joke, pulling the last tray of cookies out of the oven before turning it off.

“What do you want to do?”

“Movie night?”

“Sure,” Vince agrees, shrugging as he pushes himself off the counter. “Let’s go pick up dinner first.”

After a quick trip to the grocery store and your favourite sushi restaurant you’re back at the apartment, pouring yourself a glass of wine while Vince was already opening up the boxes of sushi. “Want some?” You ask Vince, gesturing to the wine.

“Uh,” he hums before shaking his head. “I’ll pass on that,” he chuckles, walking to the fridge and grabbing a beer for himself.

“Should have figured,” you giggle, putting the white wine back into the fridge.

In the living room you two settle onto the couch to have dinner and pick the first movie of the night. Halfway through the second movie you’ve lost your focus on the plot, eyes on your phone as you curl into the corner of the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed.

“What is more interesting than this movie?” Vince questions, gesturing to the tv and the movie he had picked that was playing on it.

Glancing up you roll your eyes playfully. “Almost anything.” Scooting down the couch you settle in beside Vince, letting him see your phone screen.

And within seconds the movie is long forgotten as he chuckles at a meme you scroll by. The transition from Instagram to TikTok is quick and so is the movement from you sitting beside Vince to you being tucked under his arm and leaning into his side. You’re both giggling at the short videos and the time slips by quickly, the credits on the tv rolling and reminding you of the fact that you had planned a movie night. “Do I get to pick the next one?”

Vince reluctantly hands you the remote, wrapping his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. His body is warm and his embrace is comforting and you know you shouldn’t want to stay like this with him forever, but you do.

The next movie is more interesting but you find it just as hard to focus on with the way you were wrapped up in Vince’s arms. You’re not even sure what compels you to look up at Vince, he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t moved. But he notices and turns his attention to you a second later. “What?” He asks, voice low and rough in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Nothing,” you whisper, barely able to make any sound come from your mouth as your cheeks get hot. And you want to say the flushing is from the wine but it only started when Vince’s eyes landed on your and you know he wouldn’t believe your lie.

“Are you sure?”

You swallow hard, shifting slightly towards him. “I don’t know.”

Vince’s lips curl into a soft smile, eyes lingering on your lips as he reaches forward to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “Then just show me what you’re thinking.”

It’s an invitation and you know he’s saying it because he already knows exactly what you’re thinking. But it’s risky and you both know that, too scared to make the move when the potential of it ending poorly is so high. But you can’t hold back any longer. So you lean forward, just enough for him to get the message and he takes over, hand around the back of your head as he leans over and kisses you.

And he kisses you like he’s making every second worth it if things do end poorly. When you pull back your mind is racing a million miles an hour but your body is begging to do it again. You wait a second, hoping Vince would say something. But he doesn’t, and you don’t either, and you can’t think of anything better to do than lean back in and press your lips back against his. This time it’s heated in a way that you had never felt before and you’re climbing into his lap, hips grinding down on him. You weren’t aware of just how badly you needed him to touch you until that very minute when his lips brushed against yours.

“Are you going to actually share your bed with me tonight?” You whisper against his lips when you finally pull back.

“I would’ve shared my bed with you any night you wanted.” Vince grasps your hips, gently pushing you away from him and helping you onto your feet before standing up with you. “Are you sure?”

Smiling you lean up, kissing him quickly again. “Yes, of course.”

Vince wraps his large hand around yours, slowly walking you through the apartment. As if he didn’t want to seem too eager, careful and tentative around the whole situation.

But once you’re in his room, on his bed, Vince is far less careful and tentative. And the night ends with you feeling barely able to move, body having ridden through more highs in one go than you had ever felt.

As soon as you’re done Vince goes back to being careful, considerate as the two of you shower together and he lets you pick out a t-shirt before curling up under the covers of his bed.

“Should we have done that?” You finally whisper after laying next to Vince with your head on his chest in silence for what felt like ages.

“I’m not sure,” Vince admits with an obvious reluctance, running his hand along your bare arm.

“Sammy was already suspicious of us.”

“I figured,” Vince tells you, sighing. “After the night I picked you up?”

“Yeah…I told him it was nothing…I mean, like, I know it was nothing, but-.”

“It wasn’t,” Vince interrupts, pulling you a little closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. “This isn’t nothing to me, Y/N. If I just wanted a quick fuck I definitely wouldn’t pick my best friend and roommate’s sister, no matter how hot you are.”

“Oh,” is all you can say, caught off guard. “Well then, what does it mean?”

Vince is quiet for too long after you ask, the only way you could tell he was still awake in the dark room was his hand still running up and down your arm. “I have feelings for you, but other than that…I don’t know,” Vince finally mutters.

“I think we need to give it some time, not tell Sammy this happened yet.”

“Just go back to the way things were?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Vince moves his hands to your waist, pulling you on top of him.

“Vince,” you exclaim, hands clambering for support till they find his bare shoulders, holding you up as you look down at his silhouette below you.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Vince chuckles, his thumbs running along your upper thighs, large hands now wrapped around the backs of them.

“I think you can,” you assure him, leaning down to press your lips to his. But the fact that you could feel him getting hard again makes you a little wary about whether he really could. “Maybe,” you whisper, moving your hips back as you reach down, wrapping around his length.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back on the pillow. And the last thing you had expected when you crawled into Vince’s bed after the first few rounds was to be doing it again. But you were making up for lost time. It’s slower this time, both of your tired bodies just searching for another release. And you find it, easier than normal, on top of Vince still in his t-shirt, panties simply pushed to the side.

When you finish Vince is quick to help you get cleaned up again, letting you remain collapsed on his bed. You can’t stop your heart from fluttering with excitement with him, at how considerate and caring he was. And when he finally settles back down you curl back into his side. “We need to agree on something.”

“Alright,” Vince mutters apprehensively.

“We can’t hook up when Sammy is here, it’s too risky.”

“Fine,” Vince finally agrees after a couple minutes of contemplation. The two of you drift to sleep very shortly after.

Your eyes flutter open to a gentle shaking of your shoulder. “Hey, babe, you have to wake up,” Vince says, voice quiet. “Sammy and I have practice in a couple hours, he’s going to be home soon.”

Groaning you roll away from him, head buried in his pillow. “It’s too early.”

“I know,” Vince chuckles sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand along your arm. “You’re the one who doesn’t want your brother to find out.”

“Don’t act like you want him to know you railed his sister the first time he left us alone,” you mumble, still half asleep.

“When you put it that way,” Vince chuckles, head whipping towards the bedroom door when he hears the sound of the front door closing.

“Shit,” you whisper, suddenly fully awake as you sit up completely straight.

“Just stay here, I’ll tell him you haven’t come out of you room yet this morning,” Vince suggests.

Nodding you run your hands through your messy hair, anxiety creeping up on you. If you were going to tell Sammy anything at this point you would rather just admit that you and Vince had feelings for each other, not that you spent the night in his bed.

“Don’t worry, it’s believable. It’s not like you don’t normally sleep in till one in the afternoon.”

Scoffing you roll your eyes, flopping back onto Vince’s bad. “Whatever,” you grumble. “Text me when you two are gone,” you mutter, glad your phone had been in your pocket when you made your way to Vince’s room the night before.

And when you finally get a text from Vince saying they were gone you pull yourself out of bed, making it behind you before wandering out of the bedroom. The apartment is so quiet and you make yourself some coffee, still just in Vince’s t-shirt. Something about it feels so right, so comfortable. After making a coffee you settle down on one of the barstools at the counter in the kitchen, opening your laptop and navigating to Indeed and before you’re even fully processing what you’re doing you’ve sent out a handful of resumes to jobs in St. Louis.

After you finish applying to jobs you move on to getting ready for the day. When Sammy and Vince finally get home you feel the weight of so many secrets on your chest. Of not telling Sammy about you and Vince, of not telling Sammy and Vince about applying for jobs in St. Louis.

“How was your night?” You ask Sammy as he walks into the kitchen, looking up over the top of your laptop.

“Good,” Sammy replies, grabbing himself a snack from the fridge. “How was yours?”

“Good,” you reply simply, looking back down at your computer.

“Up late?” Looking back up you stare at Sammy for a second, feeling like he was trying to catch you in a lie. “I mean, you were still in bed when I left this morning.”

Nodding you pick up your mug, shrugging. “TikTok is pretty addicting,” you comment, brushing it off as you take a sip of your coffee. “I’m going grocery shopping, do you have anything in particular that you need?”

“Just the regular stuff we keep in the house,” Sammy shrugs, not wanting to have to actually think about it.

Rolling your eyes you close your laptop and slide off the stool you were sitting on. “Really helpful, can I borrow your car?”

Sammy groans loudly. “What if I wanted to go out?”

“Well do you?”

“I’ll just take you,” Vince chimes in, walking into the room.

Glancing over your eyes linger on Vince’s for a second, wanting so badly to be able to say something or hug him, something…anything. “Thanks,” you finally mutter, realizing you needed to say something and not just stand there and stare at him.

“Want to go now?”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, gathering your things and pulling on a hoodie on your way out the door. Once you’re outside you glance behind you and up at Vince. “So, since when are you so interested in grocery shopping?”

“Since it means being with you…away from your brother,” Vince chuckles, hands on your waist, tugging you to stop and pulling you into him. Leaning down he presses his lips to yours, your head tipped back and to the side, fingers clutching at his arm.

“You’re not being very secretive,” you giggle, pulling back and looking around the front parking lot of the apartment building.

“Fine, I’ll wait till we’re in the car.”

Rolling your eyes you get into the passenger’s side of Vince’s car. “We’re going to get groceries…that’s it.”

You drive to the closest grocery story and head inside with Vince, pushing the cart down almost every aisle, the two of you talking and making jokes the whole time. It’s such a mundane task, grocery shopping, but somehow doing it with Vince makes it enjoyable and fun.

Back at the apartment you lug an armload of groceries inside, seeing Sammy sitting on the couch, xbox controller in this hands. “Thanks for the help,” you call to him sarcastically.

Sammy chuckles, barely glancing in your direction. “You’ve got Vince.”

Your heart beats a little faster at that comment, dropping the bags onto the counter and looking over at Vince. You know that he didn’t miss the comment either by the smirk on his face, the way he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist. “See, he’s already accepted it,” Vince whispers jokingly.

“Shut up,” you giggle, rolling your eyes as you playfully push him away and turn around to begin putting groceries away. Vince continues to make subtle moves, sliding his hand along your lower back as he walks by to put a box of crackers into the cupboard, stepping up behind you to take the can of chickpeas that you were struggling to put onto the top shelf out of your hand and doing it for you. It takes you two forever to finally put everything away and once you do it’s time to start making dinner. “Are you going to help me or just be in my way?” You tease.

“I know you like having me around.”

Shaking your head you look down at the recipe on your phone, unable to argue against that. You really didn’t want Vince to leave, even if he was really just getting in your way. Because you liked Vince, a lot more than you should.

A few days later you received a call from one of the businesses you applied to asking you to come in for an interview, to which you easily agreed. It was during another four day span of Vince and Sammy being gone so you were able to get ready and go for your interview without any questions. There was something about admitting to the fact that you were trying to find a job in St. Louis that scared you. Perhaps it was simply because it was a little crazy. You would need to find a job willing to arrange a visa for you, you would need to find your own apartment, and quite frankly, you probably just hadn’t thought it through enough. But you didn’t want to leave either, you were having a good time here with your brother and Vince, although you were trying to convince yourself that Vince had nothing to do with the decision.

The interview went well and the next morning you got a call with a job offer. You accepted it quickly, not just because it meant you could stay in St. Louis but because it was also a job you were more than interested in.

Sammy and Vince get home later that afternoon and you pull Sammy into the living room. “I have some news.”

“Okay?” Sammy mutters, eyebrows furrowed, hands folded nervously over his knees as he sits on the edge of the couch.

“I got a job.”

“Oh, congratulations,” Sammy says, the news processing in his head as you watch his body language sink a little. “Does this mean you’re going back home?”

Shaking your head you fidget with a piece of thread on your hoodie sleeve. You weren’t sure why you were nervous to tell him that you had found a job there. “It’s here.”

Sammy has his arms around you quickly, pulling you to your feet and into a tight hug. “You’re staying here?”

Laughing you pull back from him, staring up at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to be that excited about it. “Yes…I mean, I’ll obviously get my own place and car and everything but I’m going to be in the city.”

“What’s going on?” Vince asks, walking into the living room.

“I got a job here,” you tell him, voice quiet and apprehensive. You were a little worried that Vince wouldn’t be happy, that maybe he had only been into you because he figured you would be leaving, that it was a short term thing.

“Here? Like, you’re staying in St. Louis…for good?”

Nodding slowly you glance down at the ground, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Congratulations,” he tells you, walking over and pulling you into a hug.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pulling back to look up at Vince, trying to read his expression. Unfortunately you come up with nothing, sighing as you step away from him.

It’s not till much later that night when you even get the chance to talk to him more, Sammy barely leaving your side as he excitedly looked through apartment listings with you, even though he assured you that there was no rush for you to move out.

Once everyone had gone to bed you sneak out of your room and down the hallway to Vince’s bedroom, pushing it open slightly. “Vince?” You whisper, trying your hardest not to wake Sammy up in the process.

“Hey, babe,” Vince says softly, making your heart flutter so easily. “Are you going to come in?”

Slipping through the door you shut it softly behind you, fumbling through the dark bedroom to Vince’s bed. “Hey,” you mumble, climbing onto the empty side of the bed and sitting with you legs crossed, watching Vince sit up and lean against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?”

How he knew so quickly that you were worried about something was beyond your comprehension. Normally you weren’t easy to read but Vince saw right through it. “I just…if you thought this was something different because I was going to be leaving, I totally get that. We can go back to just being friends…or not, if you don’t want. We don’t have to tell Sammy, I can move into my own apartment and we can pretend this didn’t happen, it’s fine,” you ramble.

“Y/N,” Vince says quietly, reaching over and placing his hands around your waist, guiding you closer as you slide onto your knees. “I like you…I have feelings for you. I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I just thought, I don’t know. Your reaction earlier wasn’t what I expected.”

Vince pulls you over his lap, hands running along your thighs. “Because you don’t want Sammy to know about us and I didn’t want him to be suspicious if I seemed too happy about it.”

“Oh,” you whisper, sliding your hands along his bare chest, resting them on his shoulders.

Vince chuckles, pulling you closer and leaning up. “I didn’t want to be the one to suggest it, but I was hoping you would look for a job here,” Vince admits before pressing his lips to yours. And you kiss him back eagerly, arms around Vince’s shoulders.

Grinding your hips down into Vince you feel him already getting hard. And you needed him, more than you had ever felt you needed someone in your life.

“Our agreement,” Vince mutters against your lips.

You can feel his breath on your lips, can feel how hard he was below you, can feel every little shift of his fingers along your skin. “Vince, please,” you whimper.

“Fuck, you can’t say it like that and expect me not to cave,” Vince groans, hands on the hem of your t-shirt, yanking it up over your head swiftly. And it comes off easily, your lack of a bra leaving it easy for Vince to immediately bring his lips to your chest.

Tipping your head back you close your eyes, every single kiss, flick of his tongue over your nipples sends waves of anticipation through your body. “Vince,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth against him, desperate for some kind of contact.

Reaching down Vince slides your pyjama shorts down your legs as you move from one leg to the other, helping him take them off. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers up along your folds towards your clit. He eases his way towards it, circling around your clit till your nails are digging into his back and your body is writhing in desperation. When he finally gets to your clit the wash of pleasure is enough to bring a quiet cry of relief from your lips.

“Fuck, I love hearing you, but I need you to be quiet,” Vince mutters in your ear as he brushes gentle circles over your clit. “Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

All you can manage to do is nod and hum out a muffled “mhm.”

“Good girl,” Vince mutters, replacing his fingers on your clit with his thumb, fingers travelling down towards your entrance, one finger sliding inside of you. You’re trying your hardest to stay quiet, head dropping down to Vince’s shoulder as you bite down on your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you whisper a few minutes later, a few muffled moans slipping from your lips as you reach your high.

Coming down from it you stay on Vince’s lap, pulling your head away from his shoulder to look into Vince’s eyes. Remaining where you were you reach down, hand guiding Vince towards your entrance, a heavy breath leaving your lips as you sink down onto him. Vince groans, hands on your hips as he shifts further down the bed. It’s unbelievably quiet in the room as the two of you find a rhythm, both of you fighting with every ounce of your self-control to remain quiet. You stay on top of Vince the entire time, both of you too scared to be too loud to switch positions. But it doesn’t take you long to reach your second wave of pleasure, your body already sensitive from the first. And it’s only a couple seconds after that Vince reaches his, groaning quietly as his grip on your hips tightens. When you climb off of him and collapse on the bed beside him Vince hops up, grabbing a towel for you and returning quickly to start the cleanup process.

After using the washroom you return to Vince’s bed, curling up at his side, head on his chest. “I shouldn’t sleep in here.”

Vince sighs, running his hand along your back. “We’re going to have to tell him.”

“Do we really, Romeo?” You joke, tugging the blankets up higher on your body despite the fact that you had just told Vince you weren’t spending the night.

There’s a few minutes of silence, Vince’s hand pausing on your back as if all his energy was being funnelled to his brain. “What?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” you tell him.

“You think I’m going to get your Shakespeare references?”

“At least you knew it was Shakespeare.”

Vince chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m not that stupid.”

“Well…,” you giggle, tipping your head back to look at Vince.

“Oh, really?” He laughs, grabbing your wrist and flipping you around onto your back. He hovers over top of you, pinning your wrists down. “That was kinda rude.”

“Too bad I’m actually into this,” you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you bite gently on your bottom lip.

Vince groans quietly, rolling off of you and flopping back onto his back. “Why is everything you do so hot?”

“Kinda glad you think that way, seems like it gives me an upper hand.”

“Looking like that you definitely have the upper hand, for sure,” Vince chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. And the two of you continue talking, the whole time you were fully intending to make your way back to your own bed.

But you don’t ever make it out of Vince’s room that night.

“Get your lazy ass up.” You’re startled away by a voice yelling through Vince’s door, fist knocking a minute later. “We’re going to be late for practice again, enculé.”

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, grasping at the blankets on Vince’s bed yanking them up over your bare torso as you sit up. “Vince,” you whisper, shaking his somehow still sleeping form.

“Hmm?” He hums, rolling over to face you. “What’s wrong?”

But before you have the chance to say anything Vince’s door flies open and your eyes meet with Sammy’s. You watch him visibly try to process what was going on in front of him, eyes wide and fists clenched.

“Sammy,” you begin, watching him step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sammy, wait, I…it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Sammy counters, obviously knowing that it was exactly what it looked like. But he’s already on his way back out of the bedroom and you make a move to stand up but Vince grabs your arm before you have the chance.

“Give him a second to process,” Vince suggests, glancing down at the way you were clutching his blankets to your naked body. “And maybe put some real clothes on.”

Nodding you crawl out of Vince’s bed, pulling on the pyjama’s you were wearing when you showed up in his room the night before. Vince gets up a minute later, pulling on a pair of jeans a hoodie, glancing at his phone. “We are going to be late,” he mutters, his back to you as he gathers his keys and wallet, jamming them into his pockets.

“Vince, I’m scared.”

Vince turns around quickly, eyes on you. You had your arms wrapped tight around your body, eyes teary. “Hey,” Vince says gently, walking over and pulling you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. “It’s okay, everything is going to be fine.”

“Did you see him? He looked so upset…he’s going to be mad, Vince. I can’t, I can’t handle him being mad at me.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying till Vince pulls back, reaching up and wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “He won’t be mad at you, he’ll be mad at me. I’m the one who started this.”

You’re caught off guard by this, laughing softly. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“I kissed you on the couch,” you remind him, your hands wrapped around his forearms as you stare up into his eyes.

“I came home early and skipped going for drinks with the guys that night because Sammy told me he was going out for the night. I was hoping for what happened that night.”

You’re caught off guard by his confession, speechless and frozen in place.

Glancing over you see Sammy step into the doorway, slowly pulling away from Vince “We have to go.”

“Yeah,” Vince mutters, reaching over and grabbing your hand, squeezing it as he steps out of the bedroom with Sammy.

You watch them walk away in silence, not leaving Vince’ bedroom till you hear the front door close. Slowly making your way out of the bedroom you try to busy yourself with tidying the apartment to keep yourself thinking too much about the situation.

“Y/N,” Sammy’s voice calls later in the day, walking into the living room where you were sitting on your laptop, scrolling through apartment listings.

“Hey,” you say quietly, looking up at him. Reaching forward you slowly close your laptop, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you. “How was practice?”

“Fine,” he says, sitting down on the love seat beside the couch you were on. Sammy watches you glance in direction of the hallway. “He went to Jordan’s place.”

“Oh,” you whisper, feeling your heart sink a little.

“It wasn’t his idea,” Sammy tells you, noticing how disappointed you seemed. “I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“Oh,” you repeat, not knowing what to say. Your brother had always known the details of your relationships, telling him all about your crushes, dates, when boyfriends would upset you. This had been the first time you kept something like that a secret from him, and now you were regretting it. Perhaps if you had told him earlier, when you first started to develop feelings for Vince things would have been different. But now it seemed like you two knew there was something wrong with what you were doing, needing to keep it a secret.

The silence in the room is heavy, and it feels painful as you fidget in your seat. Sammy staring at you for a few minutes before finally saying anything. “Why?”

Staring down at the ground you try to come up with an answer to his question. “I like him,” you whisper, shrugging.

“Why him? Did you not even think about what’ll happen when things end between you two?”

“That’s really optimistic,” you mumble, eyes focused on your fingers as you pick a few pieces of lint off of your jeans.

“Well what?” Sammy asks, voice raising in frustration. “You going to marry him?”

Finally looking up at Sammy you roll your eyes, sighing loudly.

“God, now I see why mom got so mad every time you rolled your eyes,” Sammy mutters. “Why the hell are you even rolling your eyes?”

“Because I’m not even thinking about marriage…with Vince or anyone else. That’s crazy,” you reply, your voice getting louder and louder with each word.

“So you’re going to break up with him, or he’s going to break up with you and then my friendship with him is going to be fucked,” Sammy snaps. “You really didn’t consider that? That you’re ruining my friendship with Vince…and for what?”

“Stop yelling at me,” you yell back, hoping up from the couch and staring down at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I don’t know what to say, I like him.” Sniffling you reach up, wiping away tears from underneath your eyes.

“I’m not okay with it.”

Wrapping your arms tight around your body you try to compose yourself, try to stop the tears from continuously flooding your eyes. You hated that you cried during conflict, hated that when it was conflict with Sammy that reaction was always heightened. “What do you want me to do then?”

Sammy glares up at you, shaking his head. “You already fucked it up, it’s too late for you to do anything.”

It feels like someone just punched you in the stomach, physical pain radiating through your body in response to his words. But you can’t think of a single defence for yourself. “Fuck you,” is all you manage to croak out before turning around and hurrying in the direction of the front door.

“Where are you going?” Sammy calls, following after you.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, yanking on a jacket you had hanging up on a hook beside the door. “Does it really matter? I mean, I’m such a fuck up anyway.”

“I didn’t say that,” Sammy exclaims, watching you pull on a pair of shoes. “Can you just stop? We’re not kids anymore, you can’t just fucking run away.”

“No, we’re not,” you snap, standing up straight again. “So why are you treating me like one?”

“Because it’s my goddamn life you’re messing with.”

“You don’t have to be such an asshole,” you whisper, tears now streaming down your face with no chance of you being able to contain them. “I’m sorry I developed feelings for your friend, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about, I’m sorry I acted on it…I’m sorry I came here, I don’t know what you want me to say.” You’re reaching for the doorknob a moment later, yanking the door open.

“Don’t say that, stop, Y/N, where the fuck are you even going to go?” Sammy asks, reaching for your arm which you pull away from him before he has the chance to grab you. “You can’t just wander around alone crying."

“Well it’s not like this apartment is feeling overly hospitable right now,” you tell him, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “I never would have thought you would be such an asshole over me falling for a guy. I’m sorry he’s your friend, I wasn’t trying to make that happen. In fact, I was trying not to. But you don’t really care, do you? Because the situation isn’t perfect for you so why should you even try to accept it?”

With that you leave the apartment. You take an Uber to one of your new friend’s houses, thankful that she had replied before your Uber even got there that she was free and wanted to hang out. After a brief explanation of what was going on you settle down on her couch, her puppy curled up in your lap as you two talk, able to get your mind off of the situation with Sammy and Vince, even if only for a short period of time.

You two order take out and lay on the couch, sending each other dumb tiktoks for the majority of the night.

‘Are you okay?’ It’s a text from Vince and you switch from the tiktok app to your messages.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’m at my friend’s place. You’re home now?’

“Vince texted, I think he just got home,” you tell your friend, sitting up on her couch with a sigh.

“Did he say anything about the situation?” She asks, turning her head to look over at you.

Shaking your head you look down at your screen, watching the three dots inside a text bubble, waiting to get the text he was typing. ‘Yes, when are you coming back?’

‘I don’t know. I guess soon, I just don’t know what to do.’

‘About what?’

‘Sammy’ ‘Us’

‘Can I come pick you up?’

And twenty minutes later you’re leaving your friend’s house, promising to keep her updated on the situation.

“Hey,” you greet as you get into Vince’s car, glancing over at him while pulling on your seatbelt.

“Hey.” Vince reaches over, placing his hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. “How did it go with Sammy?”

“Not great,” you admit, placing your hand on top of Vince’s, sliding your fingers between his and folding your hand over his. “Did you guys talk?”

“A bit.” Vince says, pulling out of the parking lot of the apartment. “What did he say to you?”

“That I’m messing up his life,” you mumble, your eyes filling with tears. “Basically I fucked up and whatever the fallout from this is it’s all my fault.”

Vince’s hand clenches around the steering wheel as he drives with no particular destination in mind. Of course Sammy was one of his best friends and that wasn’t about to change over one fight. But friends didn’t always agree on everything, didn’t always get along. And by the way Vince’s jaw was clenched, eyes glaring through the windshield in front of him, it was clear that was the case. “That’s such bullshit. You know that’s not true...right?”

“What if it’s not?” you croak. “Are we being selfish? Your friendship with Sammy, jeopardizing that when this ends?”

“It doesn’t have to end poorly and ruin anything,” Vince points out. “It doesn’t have to end,” he adds.

“Vince,” you whisper, glancing down at your hands folded together. How perfect they fit, how comfortable you were with him. “That’s crazy to say right now.”

“I know,” he admits, squeezing your hand. “So it might not last forever, but no matter what happens we’ve already started...whatever this is, so why does it matter when it ends?”

You can’t really argue with that point. Your options are end it now or give it time, see how things play out. “But…Sammy,” you whisper.

“Give him time.”

The two of you drive around aimlessly for a little while longer till he pulls into the parking lot of the apartment building, glancing over at you. “You okay?

Nodding you pull your hand from his, resting it on the console as you lean across it and Vince is quick to react, bringing his hand to the side of you face to cup your cheek. His lips are gentle but eager, moving with intent but not pushing too far. And for a moment it feels like everything else has faded away, worries and stress blurring till they’re no longer visible anymore. “How do we do this?” You whisper, pulling back from Vince.

“Do what?” He asks, sitting back in his seat, body angled towards you.

“Deal with being in there, together, with Sammy.”

Vince is quiet for a moment, tapping at his steering wheel. “We’ll just figure it out when we’re in there, see what he’s like.”

Nodding slowly you open the car door, slipping out and walking towards the apartment with Vince. With every step closer you feel a growing anxiety, each and every possibility running through your mind. Would Sammy still be mad? Would he try to pick up the argument right where it ended? Would it be worse if he just decided to ignore it? Would you all need to sit down and have a conversation like an awkward family meeting nobody wants to be a part of?

When you step into the apartment after Vince you hear the sound of the TV from the living room. Slowly making your way into the living room you notice Sammy with an Xbox controller in his hand, eyes trained on the TV. “Hey,” you greet, sitting down on the couch and alternating between watching the game he was playing and glancing at Sammy.

“Hey,” Sammy mutters, finishing up his game before tossing the controller down onto the coffee table and sitting up to turn and face you. “Did running away solve everything?”

Shaking your head you pull your legs up to your chest on the couch. “Should I have stayed here and let you yell at me about fucking up your life instead?”

“I didn’t say you were fucking up my life.”

“Maybe not in those exact words,” you retort. “But you may as well have.”

Sammy sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he grumbles, looking over at you. “I just…fuck, I hate it so much. Like why him?” His tone is different now, lighter, easier than the last conversation.

“I mean…look at him,” you say, trying your best to to lighten the mood even more.

Sammy chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “I guess I really should have seen it sooner,” he comments, staring down at the ground.

“What do you mean?”

Sammy looks up from the ground, eyes meeting yours. “You’re exactly his type and he’s been spending way more time just hanging around here since you got here. I’m such an idiot for not thinking this would happen. I pretty much set it up.”

You wait a few seconds in silence, processing that information. You had really just assumed Vince spent that much time at his apartment normally. You figured they were on the road a lot, when they were back in St. Louis he would just want to relax at home playing video games and watching TV. You never would have thought that you played a role In keeping him there. And you definitely wouldn’t have assumed you were exactly his type either. “So you can’t really be mad then…you said it, you set it up.”

Sammy laughs, sitting up straighter and shaking his head. “I didn’t say that either…But I’m not mad, I don’t like it…maybe that’ll change, I don’t know. But I’m not mad at you. You know I can’t stay mad at you.”

You smile softly, standing up and walking over to the couch he was on, dropping down beside him and throwing your arms around him dramatically. “Good, because I can’t handle you being mad at me,” you tell him. Pulling back you let your arms drop from around him. “So, will you come look at apartments with me tomorrow so that Vince and I can-.”

“Stop,” Sammy interrupts, pushing you away playfully. “I don’t want to hear it, you’re so gross,” he says, both of you laughing as you lean back in response to Sammy pushing you.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Vince walk into the room hesitantly and you give him a reassuring smile. “Sammy admitted he actually set us up.”

“I did not,” Sammy exclaims, laughing. “I said I pretty much did…not on purpose though.”

“Close enough…I’m going to make dinner. I don’t know how you two are going to survive when I get my own apartment,” you laugh, standing up and walking over towards Vince, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you towards the kitchen.

“You can come over and cook us dinner,” Sammy calls as you leave the living room.

Shaking your head you make it to the kitchen, only there for a second before Vince is pulling you into him, leaning down and kissing you gently. “I knew it would be okay,” Vince mumbles against your lips.

Bringing one hand to the back of his neck you press your body closer to his, confident that Sammy would be avoiding the kitchen now that you and Vince were in there alone. “No you didn’t,” you giggle. “You just said that because I was panicking.”

“Kind of,” Vince admits.

“Well I’m glad it worked out,” you whisper, sliding your hands to his shoulders. “Because if we never got around to you pinning me down like you did last night I’d be really disappointed,” you joke, looking up at Vince through your eyelashes with a mischievous smile.

Vince groans, shaking his head. “So that’s all I am to you?” Vince asks, playing along.

“Of course,” you joke. Pulling out of his grasp you begin to prepare dinner, but the absence of touch doesn’t last long, Vince stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips. “Someone is a little needy.”

“I’m hurt after your last comment,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, watching you chop up some vegetables.

Pausing you turn your head to the side, looking up at Vince. “Fine, I like you for more than just sex,” you tell him.

“So when are you letting me take you on another date…a real one.”

“Anytime,” you tell him, glancing over at him as he stands beside you, leaning against the counter. You can’t help but get caught up in staring at him for a little too long. A few months ago you never would have imagined your trip to St. Louis would even last this long, let alone end with you moving there and falling for a boy. And of course you weren’t sure how it would end, but for the time being you were happy with the new adventure you were embarking on.

#vince dunn #vince dunn fic #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn fanfiction #vince dunn fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl one shot #st louis blues imagine #st louis blues fanfic #st louis blues fanfiction #st Louis blues one shot #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #hockey one shot #Hockey Fanfiction

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 11)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: ANGST part 3! But again, with progress attached.

Word Count: 10,246

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

When you woke Saturday morning, you felt clearer about things than you’d felt all week. Your nap had lasted longer than intended, so when you woke around ten and groggily looked at your phone, you realized you’d missed your opportunity to talk to Finn.

He’d called around seven, but you seemed to have slept through this, and he’d left you no voicemail. Shooting him a text, you tried to stay up but promptly fell back asleep. When you woke to the sun streaming through your windows the next morning, you realized this was it. You’d reached a breaking point.

Pushing aside your covers, you climbed down from bed and began to get ready. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you fixed yourself up as best as you could before leaving the dorm. It was still early in the morning, the air containing a chill while you walked to the coffee shop. Finn still hadn’t responded to your text from the night prior, so you decided to give him an hour before you went over.

It had been three days since your fight in the library. If he didn’t know what to say to you by now, he could figure out what to say when he saw you in person. Steeling yourself for this possibility, you entered the shop and walked to the counter.

Staring at the holiday specials on the board, you felt nothing but numbness. As you ordered a peppermint latte and left a tip, you made a mental note to pick up Noelle one on your way home. She’d been the best friend to you this week – all weeks, really. Despite not knowing what was wrong, she’d done her best to cheer you up and be there for you.

Sipping your coffee at a table in the corner, you stared blankly at your phone. It was strange, being in a place you’d once been happy with Finn and no longer feeling attached to the memory. It was strange, contemplating the idea of breaking up with a cool sort of detachment, as though it were happening to someone other than you.

You wondered if all relationships reached a point where you simply felt tired. Maybe all humans had an emotional cap; a quota wherein all emotions following simply went unfelt. If this was this case, you imagined you might have hit yours.

Once your drink was finished, you stood and walked to place your mug in the bin. It had officially been an hour, which meant it was time to confront Finn at Redfield. Hiking your bag higher, you were about to leave the shop when you heard a familiar voice coming from behind a potted plant.

“Mom, are you serious?” Sabrina said, sounding upset. “This is a good thing.”

Uncertain, you paused. When you glanced around the fern, you saw Sabrina seated with someone unfamiliar at a table. The other person was a woman – older than you and, judging by the conversation, she seemed to be Sabrina’s mother.

Whoever she was, the woman sighed with the tone of someone who’d had this conversation before. “Tell me what’s good about it, Sabrina,” she demanded. “Vlad Copson is recommending you take additional classes outside of Russet.”

“I know.” Sabrina faltered. “It’s just because I asked about the contemporary dance program, though. I don’t… I don’t have a lot of experience in that area.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault, I’m just saying I want to–”

“We’ve been over this before, Sabrina. You need to work harder.”

Sabrina stopped talking. “I know.”

“Do you, though?” Pulling out her phone, her mother scrolled through her email. “You’ve had every advantage money could buy. Private lessons, an elite dance academy. How could you possibly be falling behind? It’s barely even the first semester.”

“Everyone’s talented at Russet, mom.”

Realizing you were staring, you side-stepped until you were hidden partway behind the fern. Mind racing, you wondered if this was what Sabrina had wanted to discuss. You’d had no idea she was interested in contemporary dance. She hadn’t seemed comfortable in the master class last week – but then again, maybe that’s what sparked this conversation.

It was strange to hear her sounding so small, so defeated. You were used to Sabrina being larger than life. If nothing else, the Sabrina you knew was confident – as soon as you thought this, a different memory came to mind. Something Jimin had said to you inside Dr. Gonzalez’s office.

He’d compared you to Sabrina and mentioned she was more insecure than you were.

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends for help?” said Sabrina’s mother. “Kelsey… or Alex?”

“Katie and Allison,” Sabrina stiffly corrected. “I asked them but um, they didn’t have time. You know… end of semester and stuff…”

She trailed off, sounding uncomfortable and you frowned. Again, you remembered last week’s master class. Sabrina’s friend Katie had stood beside Jungkook instead of helping her out. You’d thought it was weird at the time, but maybe they weren’t as close as you thought they were.

Or maybe they were similar, in that Katie wasn’t the type of person to help someone else when she had the chance to pull ahead.

Her mother made a noncommittal noise. “We’ll, you’ll just have to figure something out then, won’t you? I told you something like this would happen. That boy was a distraction. You’re better off now that you’ve ended things with him.”

Stiffening, you wondered if the boy they spoke about was Jimin, but then Sabrina scowled.

“Eamon was not a distraction,” she said, sounding sure of herself for the very first time.

Eyes widening, you stared. You’d had no idea Sabrina and Eamon were even a thing. Frantically, you thought back and tried to piece it together. You remembered Eamon leaving the dance floor at the club to head upstairs, which was where Sabrina had been sitting. Ten minutes later, she’d stormed into the downstairs bathroom in tears.

Based on what her mom was saying, it sounded as though Sabrina had broken up with Eamon. Immediately, your heart fell, and you wondered if your fight with Sabrina in the bathroom had been part of this aftermath.

“Still,” her mother said. “The time you spent with him was time you could’ve spent practicing! You’re young, Sabrina and ballerinas only perform until they’re thirty-five – if that. You’ll have plenty of time to date later on.”

“I barely even saw him as it was!”

“Maybe I need to cut the hours on your phone again.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Sabrina said tightly. “I need to go.” She stood from the table, chair scraping beneath her. “I told Katie we’d meet to head to a ballet class uptown. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Alright, then.”

Her mom didn’t seem concerned, waving goodbye like one might an acquaintance. Sabrina hovered a moment before hitching her bag to walk past. You realized you were still standing there, gawping at and swiftly sprang into action.

Pushing your way out the door, the bell jingled above you. You saw Sabrina’s head move but left before you could see if she’d noticed your presence. Hurrying down the sidewalk, you pulled your jacket tighter and kept your head down. That hadn’t seemed like a conversation you were meant to overhear.

Also, you weren’t sure what you’d overheard. As your steps began to slow, Sabrina’s comment from earlier in the year began to make sense. She’d relayed her mother’s advice on success – that only a few women ever made it to the top and as such, if Sabrina helped you to succeed, it’d be detrimental to her.

Having now seen Sabrina’s mom in action, you understood where she got this from. At the time, you’d been mad at Sabrina but now, you felt a strange sense of pity. The possibility of Sabrina falling behind had never crossed your mind and yet, it seemed Mr. Vlad had recommended extra classes. This made you think about what Jimin had said. Everyone at Russet was corrected, at some point of another.

At least you had a support system to fall back on, though; Sabrina had nothing. Her so-called friends had fled at the first sign of conflict and her mother didn’t seem interested beyond her ranking in class. This struck you as indescribably sad.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to linger upon Sabrina’s situation – as soon as you entered Redfield’s campus, all thoughts of Russet flew from your mind. Redfield University was such a short walk you’re your campus; if you did break up, it would be so awkward to run into Finn later on.

This was something you would’ve considered in high school, but you hadn’t imagined this to be a factor once you went to college. The realization made your heart sink, realizing how distant you’d become despite living so close together.

As you walked under Redfield’s archway, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Orange-brown leaves crunched underfoot, seemingly having fallen from trees overnight. As you wound between dorms, you saw only a few people about at this hour. Pulling your bag higher, you hoped Finn would even be at his dorm.

He’d talked about moving off campus a few weeks ago – there wasn’t much space in the city for dorms, so students often moved out after freshman year, or even during their second semester. Maybe Finn would move further away and solve your concerns about running into each other.

Startled, you realized you were thinking about Finn in the past tense. Shaking this thought from mind, you stuffed your hands in your pockets and walked to his dorm. It took longer this time for someone to let you in – it seemed most of Redfield didn’t wake before 10:00 AM – but soon enough, you were climbing the steps to his room.

Your hands trembled as you walked down the hall, the lack of noise oddly suffocating when you stopped at his door. It took you a long moment to knock; several heartbeats you counted out like a watch.

After a second, you heard movement inside.

“Ben?” Finn called out, a bit groggy. “I already told you. I don’t want to get breakfast, I –”

He pulled open the door, revealing the entire room and you froze.

It was difficult to choose what to focus on first. Finn, in his boxers, Madison tugging on jeans, or the unmade bed behind them in the corner. Your gaze darted to each one in turn until, feeling suddenly nauseous, you stumbled backwards.

When he saw it was you, Finn froze in place. As soon as he came to his senses, he stepped into the hall and tried to shut the door, but it was too late. You’d already seen.

Every emotion you’d felt over the past couple of days rose to the surface. All the horror you’d felt, the self-flagellation you’d done – it had all been for nothing.

Suddenly livid, you began to see red.

“No,” you said, pushing past him. Shoving open the door, you glared hard at Madison. “I think I’d rather have this conversation in here. You should leave,” you informed her.

Finn muttered something which sounded like a curse. Madison glanced at him, startled and Finn slowly turned. Wrestling a hand through his hair, he seemed slightly panicked as he nodded at Madison.

“You should probably go, Maddie,” he said.

Hearing him speak, your vision blurred. He’d called Madison ‘Maddie’ in the library, but it suddenly struck you how familiar it was. How casual, how intimate her name sounded on his tongue. Closing your eyes, you forced the image from mind.

It refused to go.

Swallowing hard, you realized you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t have this conversation right now; couldn’t stay any longer.

Opening your eyes, you quickly shook your head. “I have to go,” you said, pushing past him. “Forget it, Finn. We’re done.”

As soon as you left, you bolted for the exit. Heading for the stairs, your blood pounded in your veins and drowned out all thought. You were grateful for this, since if you had time to think rationally, you’d think about Finn and Madison, half-dressed in the dorm.

Slamming open the door to the stairwell, you were halfway across the lobby when the elevator dinged and slid open.

“Y/N, wait!” Finn gasped, running out. He hopped on one foot as he slid on a sneaker. “Please – please, talk to me.”

You continued to walk. “There’s nothing to talk about, Finn.”

“There is,” he insisted, grabbing you by the elbow and turning you to face him.

Roughly, you shrugged him off.

“Please,” he begged, sounding desperate. “Please. I fucked up, Y/N. I fucked up so badly and I’m sorry.”

Freezing in place, you met his gaze.

You honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Finn was asking you to forgive him. He was asking you to forgive him as though he wanted you to stay. He had cheated on you. Finn was an absolute idiot if he thought you’d forgive him after that. If he thought you could trust him after that.

Immediately, your heart sank because you’d cheated on him, as well – maybe not like this, but you’d cheated all the same.

Some of the anger drained from your body.

“What are you sorry about?” you said, turning to face him.

Finn shook his head. “For… that,” he said. “For you having to see that.”

“Are you sorry for sleeping with her?”

He winced. “Yes.”

Releasing a low laugh, you looked away. A strange thought occurred to you, and you remembered Yoongi’s reaction when he’d said the name Madison. It seemed too coincidental for you to have walked in on their first time together.

Still facing away from him, you asked, “How many times?”

Finn paused. He exhaled, sounding pained and you felt your heart stumble.

“Just once,” he whispered. “But… we kissed last weekend. I was really drunk on Halloween and I… apparently, we kissed.”

It hurt more than you thought it would. Like a physical punch to the gut, you imagined Finn with his body on hers, their lips molded together, and his hands tangled her hair.

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “Oh.”

“It was stupid,” Finn insisted, stepping forward. “The kiss on Halloween – I didn’t even remember it until Madison told me on Thursday. She was there when I came back from our fight and asked if I remembered what happened Saturday. I said that I didn’t. She explained what happened, we got to talking and I…”

“I get it,” you said tightly, looking back. “I don’t need a play-by-play.”

“Sorry.”

“I called you, Finn. Multiple times.”

“I know.” Lifting his palms, he rubbed at his eyes. “I know, but when I got your message… I didn’t want to talk anymore. I thought what I wanted was to break up with you and Madison… she was simple, you know? I was hurt, she was there and it just kind of happened.”

His words sounded so crushingly similar to how you’d felt with Jimin. It was like looking at a warped mirror of yourself and this was when you realized nothing about this was normal. The two of you had hurt each other too many times to ever get back.

“Please say something,” he said. “Y/N, please.”

“What do you want me to say?” you said quietly.

“I – I don’t know.”

After a moment, you said, “Do you still love me?”

“Yes,” Finn murmured.

When you made a dismissive noise, his gaze narrowed.

“It’s true,” Finn insisted, stepping closer. “I do love you. That’s what I realized when I woke up this morning. I rolled over and saw her and I just… I knew, Y/N. I’d made the worst mistake of my life. I woke up this morning and knew I didn’t want to break up after all.”

“Don’t… don’t do that,” you exhaled, looking away.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t try and put this back together,” you bit out, eyes flashing. “If it took you sleeping with someone else to make you realize you wanted me, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Finn was silent for a moment.

“I know,” he said miserably. “I know that you’re right, and I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the air and you couldn’t help it – you ached. The temptation to give in was right there. The temptation to forgive, to forget and let things go back to normal. But when you looked at Finn, you saw her, and you knew this could never be fixed.

“Why?” you said, voicing the first question you thought of.

He blinked. “Why, what?”

“Why her?”

“I…” He looked down. “I don’t know. She was my friend and then… I don’t know. She was there. Maddie listened to me, she paid attention and it felt like you were slipping further away.”

“So… you slept with her because she listened to you?”

Finn groaned and closed his eyes. “I don’t even know why I’m trying to explain. I can’t. I can’t explain this away, it can’t be excused… I’m sorry, Y/N.” Slowly, he shook his head. “So, so sorry.”

After a moment, you looked at the elevator. “Is she still up there?”

Finn opened his eyes and nodded.

“Tell her to go.”

Silently, he pulled out his phone and sent a text. Finn waited for a reply and once he got it, slipped his phone back in his pants.

“She’s taking the stairs down,” he said.

“Then let’s take the elevator.”

While you waited for this to come, you crossed both arms over your chest and stared at the numbers. You weren’t going upstairs because you thought Finn deserved a second chance. If anything, his infidelity made it clear you both wanted out. Your constant hurting each other meant more than the love you’d once shared.

This wasn’t love, anyways.

Hanging onto that ideal would only demolish you further. You were going upstairs because you owed that much to yourself. You deserved more than half-explanations and you weren’t leaving until you got them. You and Finn had been together two years at this point. If you left now and ran away, you’d always wonder what if.

When you entered his room, you came to a stop in the center. Yoongi wasn’t here and you felt a twinge of regret, realizing he’d been trying to tell you something Wednesday. Turning around, you slowly sat on the edge of his futon. This seemed a safer option than his bed.

Finn hovered a few feet away.

“So,” you said, looking up. “You still love me?”

“I do.”

Gently, you closed your eyes. “And you think that’s enough?”

Finn didn’t say anything at first, sensing a trap until at last, you sighed.

“It’s not enough,” you said, opening your eyes. “That’s what I was coming over to tell you. Finn, you haven’t even texted me since our fight on Wednesday. You just ghosted me, and I know – I know I’ve done that to you, too. But that’s the point! We keep hurting one another. Is this really the relationship you want?”

“No,” he said miserably.

“Then, what do you want?”

“What do you expect me to say to that?” he said, sounding frustrated.

“You’re the one who’s saying you love me,” you pointed out. “You’re the one who’s saying this was all a mistake. Do you really want to be together still, Finn?”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit!” You gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t just say the word without knowing what it means. Do you want to be in this relationship, Finn? I don’t mean the idyllic version of us. I mean the messy, right-now version. Do you really want that?”

He stared at you, uncertain. “I just… I want us how we used to be.”

“Don’t you see, though?” you whispered. “We can’t be that. I want that too, Finn, but so much has happened. Not just the cheating, but everything else. All the fighting, all the miscommunication. You have a specific idea of what your girlfriend should be, and I’m not it. Not anymore.”

“I don’t need any of that though,” Finn finally said. He sat beside you on the futon. “I mean, yeah. I’d like to see you more. I want to be with you more. But that’s just it. I want you. I –”

“I kissed Jimin.”

Finn immediately stopped. He stared at you a second, as though struggling to make sense of the words. When you turned and met gaze, you felt your heart break again. This wasn’t how you’d planned on telling him. You had wanted to explain, wanted to ease him into it, but it was clear Finn wouldn’t stop until he knew this was over.

His lips parted, and then his gaze narrowed. “When did this happen?”

“Wednesday.”

“So, after…” He paused, as though calculating. “After our fight.”

“Yeah. After you accused me of cheating with him.”

Finn sat back on the futon, a bit dazed. He stared at the wall for a long moment, then looked your way. “Was our fight… was that the reason…?”

“No,” you said sadly. “Or maybe. I don’t know. There were a lot of things. I was confused and upset, so I went to dance and Jimin was there…”

Trailing off, you heard the words said out loud and knew how similar they sounded to his. You had been upset and Jimin had been there. The main difference was, after Finn had cheated he’d realized he wanted to stay and you’d realized you needed to go.

Glancing at him, you waited for Finn to speak, but he didn’t.

“I was crying,” you whispered. “Jimin saw me and he asked what was wrong. He was being so nice and I just… I kissed him. I don’t know why.”

Finn slowly closed his eyes.

Now, you were the one waiting desperately for him to speak. “Say something.”

He shook his head. “I don’t… don’t know what to say. Do you want to be with him? Is that what this is about?”

“No, I – well, I don’t know.”

He opened his eyes in disbelief. “You don’t know?”

“I wanted to come and talk to you,” you said, a bit frantic. “We haven’t talked since Wednesday and I needed to see what you felt.”

“What I felt?” Finn stared. “I felt like I’d fucked up, but I still loved you and wanted us to be together. Now, you’re telling me you don’t want that.”

“It’s not that I don’t want it. It’s just – how?” you blurted. “Finn, you cheated on me. How am I supposed to trust you after this? How are you supposed to trust me?”

His face crumpled a little. “I don’t know,” he said hoarsely. “And please… don’t say that’s all I seem to be able to say.”

You managed to smile, although this disappeared quickly.

“Guess you know me pretty well,” you said quietly.

Finn sat there and stared at the floor for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he exhaled. “Which is why I have to say… this thing with Jimin. It’s not just a kiss, is it?”

Slowly, you shook your head.

He closed his eyes. “Right. So… what now?”

“I think you know what now.”

Finn leaned back on the futon. “Were you planning on breaking up with me when you came over this morning?”

“I wanted to talk things out with you, Finn. Things have been so bad lately.”

“So, yes.”

“I honestly didn’t know.” You looked at him helplessly. “But after seeing you with her, it all seemed so clear. Finn, what are we doing? We’ve hurt each other so much and we keep on hurting each other.”

“I know.” Miserably, he looked away. “I just… I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Finn.”

Honestly, you weren’t sure if you loved him anymore but seated on this futon, faced with the prospect of not being together, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the past. All the good times you’d spent, the laughter, the kisses and firsts that you’d shared. Finn had meant so much to you at one point. How your relationship ended didn’t change that.

Slowly, he turned, and you saw his eyes were red. “So, is this…” Choking a little, he swallowed. “Are we…?”

Heart breaking, you leaned in and wrapped your arms around him. Something wet landed on your shoulder and you realized he was crying. Hugging Finn tighter, you buried your face in his chest and felt your eyes start to water.

For a long time, you simply held one another and cried. It felt therapeutic, as though everything had changed but for only this moment, you’d found your way back. For a single moment, you let yourself believe the semester had never happened and none of this pain had ever come between you.

It didn’t work completely.

In the back of your mind, your heart continued to ache. The image of Finn with someone else remained and you couldn’t fully erase it. For a moment though, you let yourself play make-believe.

When you left his dorm hours later, you felt utterly exhausted. Finn had tried to convince you to stay longer, but you’d flatly refused. At some point, you needed to draw the line.

Coming to a stop outside Redfield, you stared at the brick archway and realized you wouldn’t see it again. You were single.

For a word which was supposed to feel freeing, it felt oddly heavy. Turning around, you began to walk in the direction of Russet. It didn’t take long to get there, entering Grace Hall and climbing the steps to your room in a numbed haze.

Noelle took one look at you when you entered and immediately shut her laptop. Dimly, you realized you’d forgotten her coffee. You needed to remember to do that tomorrow. Before you could make it two steps inside though, you felt the tears forming.

“Oh, no babe,” said Noelle, descending her ladder. “Don’t cry!”

As you plopped down on the futon, she joined, rubbing your back while you buried your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you said, choking up a little. “I just – Finn…”

“What happened?”

“We… we broke up.”

“Oh, no, babe.”

“Yeah,” you said, wiping your eyes on your sleeve.

“What happened?”

“I…” You hesitated. “He cheated on me.”

“He what?” Noelle rose from the futon. “That crusty, limp lint ball. I will… I will cut off his balls with a rusty spoon!”

“I also kissed Jimin.”

Startled, she turned. “Oh.” Noelle paused. “Well. I’m still going to cut off Finn’s balls.”

Weakly, you laughed. Taking a deep breath, you found the whole story pouring out of you again. Noelle sat down, listening to you speak and nodding encouragingly. Oddly enough, as you told her everything, the weight on your chest seemed to lighten a little.

You’d thought it would be the opposite. This was one of the main reasons you’d kept things inside you for so long, not bothering to tell anyone what you were going through. The idea of burdening others made you feel guilty but talking to your mom had made you realize some truths about yourself.

It was the same thing with Noelle. Seeing her face when you described walking in on Finn and Madison was enough to reinforce you’d made the right decision. She was so livid when you told her, you needed to tug her back to the futon again.

“Okay, but you only kissed Jimin,” she insisted. “You stopped right away! And you know what Finn did? He avoided you for days, decided you were going to break up and then slept with someone else. He kissed her!” she said, arms flailing. “And thought hm, better go in deeper! God, I hate men.”

It hurt to laugh, but you couldn’t help it. Noelle was right. It was ridiculous when she put it like that. Yes, you’d fucked things up but at least you’d tried to fix it. At least you’d been realistic about what had happened. Finn had messed up and just wanted you to forgive him.

“The worst part was he tried to get me to stay,” you whispered, knees curled into your chest. “That really hurt, you know? It was like he didn’t realize how much he wanted me until he’d had someone else. I couldn’t stop thinking… what about the next time? What if every time things got hard, he ran off and stuck his dick in someone else?”

Although Noelle snorted, she shook her head. “He’s dumb, babe. And immature. Men that age always are.”

“I know,” you said quietly, staring at your knees. “But he was my dumb and immature guy. And now… I just feel kind of empty.”

“Ah, Y/N.”

“I know.” Closing your eyes, you shook your head. “It’s stupid, but I keep thinking about all the small things that’ll be different. Like, Finn loves this one video game and I used to send him memes I found on Twitter all the time. Or we were watching this TV show together and now, I’ll have to watch the next season alone. Or Finn won’t text me good morning, or tell me good night and I just…”

“Hey.” Noelle pulled you closer when you began to cry. “It’s okay, babe. Even if he hurt you, even if it was the right decision to break up – you can still be upset about it. You can still love him. Feelings like that don’t go away overnight.”

Weakly, you nodded. You knew Noelle was right but couldn’t help feeling broken. Everyone said the only thing which healed heartbreak was time. It was the only balm to this kind of pain, but on the first day of your breakup, time seemed like such a cruel concept.

“If it makes you feel better,” Noelle offered. “I’ll watch the TV show with you.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Weakly, you smiled. “You might end up regretting that.”

“I might,” she agreed, smiling as you pulled away.

Standing up from the futon, Noelle went to your minifridge and opened the freezer compartment. “Fuck weigh-ins,” she said, retrieving your ice cream and grabbing two spoons.

You both dug in, taking a large bite of fudge ripple. The treat tasted like sawdust on your tongue – somehow, you didn’t seem to have an appetite.

“I think you did the right thing, for what it’s worth,” Noelle offered.

“Yeah?” you said, taking another scoop. “Then, why does it suck so much?”

“Love sucks.”

“True.”

“He cheated, babe,” she said, a bit gentler.

“Yeah. I think that’s the worst part, though. I can kind of understand why he did.”

“Oh, no.” Noelle clucked her tongue. “Don’t go down that road.”

Weakly, you smiled. “It’s just… Finn was right. I never had time for him. I didn’t really fit in with his Redfield friends. His schedule always took a backseat to mine and I just… I can understand him not feeling like a priority in my life. What kind of girlfriend does that make me?”

“The strong kind.”

When you looked at her, Noelle seemed deadly serious. Lowering her ice cream spoon, she slowly exhaled.

“You’re a woman with ambition, Y/N,” she said quietly. “I won’t lie, that terrifies a lot of men. A lot of guys want their ego stroked and when their self-esteem can’t be fixed by someone else, they’ll blame you. You’re not a bad person for knowing what you want, though. When you find the right guy, he’ll love that about you.”

Immediately, your eyes watered. It was exactly what you’d needed to hear right now. Leaning forward, you hugged her again and silently thanked Russet Academy for pairing you as roommates.

You stayed awake for a while, ordering a pizza which Noelle forced you to eat. As she put on a movie and you settled into the futon, you thought more about Finn and what Noelle had said.

She was right, you knew. Finn didn’t want the kind of woman you’d become. The kind of woman he wanted wasn’t bad – not inherently. He wanted someone who fit into his life, someone who wasn’t defined by their career. Someone who could leave their job at five and spend time with him after.

It was fine to want those things, but it wasn’t okay to place those things on you. Possibly if you’d realized this earlier, none of this would’ve happened. It was pointless to wonder what-if, though. Before you came to Russet, you hadn’t even known this part of yourself existed.

You and Finn had spent two wonderful years together in high school. That wasn’t something you wanted to forget, but things between you were different now. It would be foolish to stay together while trying to ignore the fact that you both walked on different paths.

Somewhere in the middle of the second movie you dozed off and when you woke, you found Noelle turning off the lights and putting things away. Mumbling good night, you climbed into bed and plugged your phone into the wall.

Finn hadn’t texted, for which you were grateful.

Jimin hadn’t either.

Rolling over, you found you couldn’t think about him right now. There was too much to unpack, especially fresh off your breakup with Finn. You’d said things about Jimin you needed to digest, but you couldn’t afford to do that right now.

Right now, all you could do was start to recover.

By Monday morning, you felt like a zombie. Noelle had done her best to distract you over the weekend, but the looming prospect of Monday drained whatever progress you’d made.

It was the closest you’d ever come to being late to class. The second hand was between 7:59 and 8:00 when you and Noelle entered the room. Setting your things down at the barre, you caught Mr. Vlad’s disapproving gaze before he shut the door.

He began to teach pliés and you found yourself falling into the familiar rhythm. All weekend long, you’d dreaded coming to dance because you knew you’d be distracted. In the past, whenever your personal life had fallen apart, this usually had resulted in mistakes in your professional. Not today.

Today, you let the soothing movement drag you under. The repetitive nature of warm-ups gave a much-needed break to your overworked mind. For the first time in days, your eyes didn’t water for unknown reasons. Overwhelmed with gratitude for the momentary peace, you threw yourself into your exercises at center.

When the time came to find your partner, you spotted Jimin for the first time today. He found you first, winding across the room to stand by your side.

He was silent for a moment, then glanced in your direction. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said softly.

Jimin’s brow furrowed. He searched your face and seemed about to speak, but then Mr. Vlad began to teach. Falling quiet, Jimin learned the steps alongside you. He didn’t say anything more during adagio, but you caught him occasionally looking from the corner of your eye.

Feebly, you hoped you didn’t look too terrible. This was probably a lost cause, given you’d barely glanced in the mirror before leaving. Not that how you looked was a priority right now. It didn’t even crack the top ten, but you couldn’t help wanting Jimin to see you. Your conversation with Finn had been eye-opening in so many ways.

Not least of all was how you felt about Jimin. Finn had asked if you wanted to date him and you’d replied you didn’t know.

Just a week prior, you would’ve blustered your way through a response. You would’ve said of course, not but you would’ve been lying. Something important existed between you, but along with it came a sinking feeling.

Breaking up with Finn had been the most difficult decision you’d ever made. Everything Noelle had said was right – feelings didn’t disappear overnight, no matter how badly you wanted them to. No matter the pain he’d put you through and no matter the pain you’d caused him.

You had a lot you needed to learn before you began dating someone new. You’d thought you’d known what you wanted before and had been proven wrong. It would be equally foolish to think you knew what you wanted right now.

Besides, you had kissed Jimin while still dating Finn. That was a terrible foundation to a new relationship. Your own words came back to you about trusting Finn. He’d cheated on you with Madison and you knew that if you’d stayed, you would have always wondered if he’d do it again.

Maybe Jimin would always think this about you.

The thought made your chest ache since it could’ve been avoided. If you’d done something differently, if you’d been less stubborn and ended things with Finn earlier, you wouldn’t be feeling this way now.

Such thoughts were pointless though because they weren’t what had happened. It was meaningless to wonder what-if because the point was, you hadn’t. You hadn’t ended things earlier. You hadn’t left when Jimin found you that night. You’d made the choices which made the most sense at the time – or in a moment of weakness – and now, you needed to live with the consequences.

At the end of class, you were packing your things when you felt a shadow fall over your bag. Glancing up, you expected to see Jimin and found Sabrina before you.

Surprised, you sat back. You’d nearly forgotten about the conversation you’d overheard in the cafe but now, it all came rushing back. As you straightened, you caught sight of Jimin as he walked out the door and felt your stomach twist.

You had been hoping to catch Jimin after class to tell him – what, exactly?

You didn’t know what you’d wanted to say. You didn’t know what would be appropriate. Should you say you’d broken up with Finn? You didn’t want to give Jimin any kind of false hope. He should at least know you were sorry, though. You were sorry for kissing him, sorry you’d run away and sorry in general for messing things up so badly.

“Hey, Y/N.” Sabrina adjusted her bag. “Can we talk?”

After a moment, you nodded and zipped your bag shut. “Yeah,” you said as you stood. “Yeah, okay.”

Noelle walked past, hovering when she saw you speaking with Sabrina. Her gaze moved between you. “Are you heading back to the dorm, Y/N?”

“In a second,” you said, managing to smile. “I just need to do something first.”

Noelle nodded, but her gaze lingered before she walked away. You couldn’t blame her for her suspicion. Sabrina had been nothing but rude to you the entire year but now, you had a little more insight as to why.

Somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. You kept contrasting your last phone call to your mom with the conversation you’d overheard. If Sabrina received that kind of support in her own home, it kind of made sense for her to be the way she was with ballet.

Sabrina turned, leaving the class as you followed. You walked beside her in silence until you reached a secluded part of the hall. Here, Sabrina turned and hesitated when she saw you. The difference was startling; you were so used to the version of Sabrina who was constantly on the defensive.

“Hey,” she repeated.

She didn’t add on, so you arched a brow. “Hey. Don’t take this the wrong way, Sabrina but – what do you want?”

Her upper lip quirked. Just as quickly, her expression smoothed to normalcy. “I thought I saw you on Saturday,” she said bluntly. “Was that you in the coffee shop near Grace?”

You paused, debating whether to lie but deciding it wasn’t worth it.

“Yeah,” you said. “That was me.”

“Did you hear what me and my mom were saying?”

Again, you hesitated but before you could respond, she rolled her eyes. “What am I saying?” Sabrina muttered. “I know you were close enough to overhear.”

Unwittingly, you almost smiled. It was kind of refreshing to hear her speak like this again. Your last interactions had thrown you, making you rethink who Sabrina was. Her bluntness was oddly comforting in its normalcy.

“Well, if you know I overheard, why are you asking?” you shot back. “Look – you don’t need to worry about me telling anyone. I’ll forget what I heard, and we can go back to hating each other. I don’t care about your personal life, Sabrina.”

A flicker of something unknown passed over her face. She nodded, curt and you turned to leave – but then she exhaled.

“Wait,” she said quietly.

Stopping in your tracks, you looked over your shoulder. “What?”

Sabrina made the oddest expression, halfway between regret and disgust. “I wanted to apologize,” she said at last.

Eyes widening, you froze. Seeming to mistake your silence for anger, Sabrina barreled on.

“That’s why I wanted to talk the other day in class,” she admitted. “It’s been bothering me all week what went down on Halloween. I wasn’t in a good place then and I took that out on you. I – I’m sorry about that.”

Finally, you managed to shake yourself free.

“You’re… apologizing? To me?”

“Yes. Listen, this is awkward enough without me having to repeat myself.”

Again, you suppressed a smile. Folding your arms over your chest, you forced a stern expression. “Yeah, well, forgive me if I’m having trouble comprehending,” you said. “You don’t really seem like the apology type.”

“I’m not.”

“Then, why are you now?”

Sabrina exhaled and looked away. “I’m not going to pretend I regret everything that’s happened between us this year,” she said. “Most of it I stand by. But… it wasn’t your fault I snapped at you on Halloween. I was down and I was feeling jealous.”

Your eyes widened. “Jealous? Of me?”

She nodded, then looked back. “I got crappy feedback during the master class and then you came over, inviting me out on Halloween like some pity invitation. I know,” she said, catching your look. “Maybe that’s not what you intended, but that’s what it felt like. And then I was at that party, looking around and… I just realized no one liked me.”

More than anything else, this startled you. You hadn’t seen Sabrina much at the party but hadn’t heard anything negative, so you’d assumed she had a good time.

“I never really thought you’d be worried about something that,” you said cautiously. “Whether people liked you, or not.”

“Most of the time I don’t.” Sabrina paused. “Well. I don’t know. It’s hard,” she admitted, playing with a thread on her bag. “For the most part, I don’t. But sometimes…”

“Sometimes you do,” you finished.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I know it’s no one’s fault but mine. I’m the one who pushes people away, who refused to help you when you asked. I was the one who left Jimin on read when he said he just wanted to be friends.”

“He… what?” you said, snagging on this thought.

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “You two really need to work through whatever’s going on between you. But anyways,” she continued. “I was going through a lot and… and I just lashed out. You were the one who happened to be closest.”

“That sucks, but… I get it,” you said.

You really could. It was what you did, after all. You’d done the same thing to Jimin after you got bad feedback at Russet. You’d eventually moved past this as a habit, but you couldn’t fault Sabrina for having the same journey as you.

“Seriously, though.” You tilted your head. “Why are you telling me this? It seems very… out of character for you.”

“I know.” Sabrina considered. “Honestly? I’m not sure. It’d be easier not to, but… then you overheard my conversation with my mom.”

Awkward, you shifted your weight. “Ah.”

Again, you thought you understood. It was difficult to reveal vulnerable parts of yourself. Sometimes it was easier when someone else did it for you.

“So,” you said and then paused. “Is your mom… always like that?”

“Like what?”

“So… intense?”

She gave a bitter smile. “That was her being chill.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Sabrina shrugged. “She means well, I guess. My mom raised me alone after my dad left when I was young. She’s the top lawyer in the city, so she has firsthand experience on how to get there.” Here, Sabrina hesitated. “I just don’t think it’s always been the happiest road for her.”

“Probably not,” you admitted.

“I always thought that’s what I wanted,” Sabrina said softly. “To be like her, but with dance. At the top of my field, not needing anyone but myself. Now… I don’t know.”

Knowing this put a lot of things in perspective. Sabrina had been raised to believe she could only rely upon herself. It was no wonder she’d turned you down so many times.

“Well,” you said slowly. “I don’t think anything is set in stone, if that makes you feel better. It’s only the first semester, after all. There’s still plenty of time to make friends if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah.” She paused. “Maybe.”

You hesitated, and then nodded. “I appreciate the apology.”

“No problem.”

Glancing away, you wondered if this was all. While it helped to understand where Sabrina was coming from, you couldn’t imagine having sleepovers with her anytime soon. It was nice of her to apologize, but that was only a first step. You didn’t have much in common.

Except that wasn’t true, you realized. You had a lot in common, possibly more than you’d given yourself credit for. You understood more than you wanted about where she was coming from.

Turning back, you met her gaze. “So, Eamon?”

Her eyebrows shot upwards. “You heard that?”

“Kind of,” you said, offering a guilty smile. “What happened there?”

For the first time, a touch of sadness entered her gaze. “It’s a long story,” Sabrina said, and then hesitated.

You considered, then said, “I have time. Are you heading back to Grace Hall?”

Although Sabrina seemed surprised, she nodded, and you turned around. As you fell into step alongside her, you thought about how weird this all was. Returning to the dorm with Sabrina, talking and not being at each other’s throats.

Maybe you wouldn’t ever be friends, but you appreciated her attempt at an apology. You hadn’t realized how exhausting it was to have an enemy. To be constantly directing negative energy at something you couldn’t control – you had to give Sabrina credit because apologizing took courage. Taking a step forward was always an act of bravery.

As you walked, you felt your gut twist and an unknown voice whispered in your ear. It’d take an equal amount of courage to make things right with Jimin. Steeling yourself as you left the building, you determined you would do just that.

One step at a time, you’d move yourself forward.

Sabrina didn’t stay long, just long enough to explain about Eamon. Apparently, they’d been hooking up at the start of the year but had become something serious. Sabrina had broken it off at her mother’s insistence, but they hooked up again shortly before Halloween. When she’d ended things a second time, Eamon had been understandably frustrated.

It seemed clear Sabrina liked him, but you kept that thought to yourself. She’d either realize this on her own, or you’d eventually get to the point where you could give her a reality check. Once she eventually left, you lounged on your bed and scrolled through your phone.

As odd as the encounter with Sabrina had been, it’d taken your mind off Jimin and Finn for a moment. Now, left alone with your thoughts, you had time to overthink all your actions.

On Sunday, Noelle had made you go through your phone and delete all old conversations with Finn, blocking him on social media so he couldn’t reach out. You’d balked at this but eventually given in. Clearly, you were a creature of habit – it made sense to set physical boundaries.

Oddly though, it hadn’t been difficult not to text Finn today. Maybe because you’d been growing apart for so long. There had been multiple weeks since the start of the semester when you and Finn hadn’t even spoken for days.

Rolling over, you opened your photos and released a sigh. Finally, you began the arduous task you’d been dreading. Although you’d blocked Finn on social media, you’d yet to go through your old albums to delete. It had felt somehow wrong, as though you were ridding yourself of memories you one day might want.

Starting at the beginning of the semester, you began to delete. You found one from the night you’d moved into Russet and another from a walk at sunset along the river. There was one of Finn in his dorm room, pulling a stupid face at the camera. You deleted each one with a heavy heart, moving on to the next grouping and pausing.

Your scrolling had brought you to Halloween night. You found several photos of you, Noelle and Irene dressed as the PowerPuff girls. More from the pregame followed, with you playing flip cup and Jasmine cracking up. There were some from the couch and a few from when Hoseok had stolen your phone – when you scrolled to the next one, you froze.

The shot was candid, not taken by you, although you were in it. Paulo had made you laugh, nearly doubling over while you sat on the sofa. Irene and Jasmine were also in the shot, but it was Jimin who made you stop scrolling.

He was in the photo too, also laughing but his gaze remained focused on you. The look he gave you – it made your breath catch. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at you like that; like they simply enjoyed seeing you happy.

Suddenly, you threw aside your covers and descended your bed. As you tossed on a coat, you hastily checked the mirror before deciding fuck it, and hurrying out the door. Your coat flapped as you walked, trying to zip this up with one hand.

It was only a block to the boy’s dorm, but it might as well have been across the entire city. Your teeth were chattering by the time you arrived, hurrying into the warmth of the lobby. You took the steps two at a time to Jimin’s floor, hurrying down the hall before you could second-guess yourself.

When you finally reached his doorway, you paused.

Eyes closed, you willed yourself to breathe. You could do this. Completely unconvinced by your lukewarm pep talk, you opened your eyes and forced yourself to knock.

You heard movement inside, saw the handle turn and then Hoseok flung open the door. When he met your gaze, his eyes widened. This fact made you wince, since it was obvious Hoseok knew about the kiss between you and Jimin. Either that, or you looked like an absolute mess. Possibly both.

Staring at you, Hoseok made a noise which sounded like, “Argh.”

Before you could respond, Jimin called out.

“Is that Alex?” he groaned, sounding closer. “Did he break the showerhead again? Because I swear to god, if he –”

Jimin stepped into the doorframe, stopping once he saw you. He stared at you for a moment and Hoseok awkwardly eased himself backwards.

“Uh, I forgot I need to go to the store,” he said, grabbing his coat. Shoving his feet into sneakers, Hoseok grabbed keys from a chair. “Just um, need to grab a few things. Ice cream. Condoms. You know, the usual. Bye, guys!” he said, edging around you. “Have fun!”

Hoseok fairly ran down the hall, his coat flapping behind him.

After a moment, you returned to Jimin. He still hadn’t moved, continuing to stare at you from inside his room.

“Hey,” you said weakly, giving a wave.

His gaze hardened.

“Wait,” you blurted, throwing out a hand in case he shut the door. “Please, Jimin. Just let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain, Y/N,” he said, a bit quiet.

“Yes, there is. Can I come in?”

Jimin hesitated, warring with something but finally, he sighed and stepped aside. You nodded your thanks as you passed, stopping inside his room.

It smelled like him. There were the usual dorm smells of plaster and concrete but beneath that was his cologne, his detergent and something unmistakably Jimin. It made your heart clench as you turned around.

Jimin continued to look at you warily.

Seeing him like this tore something within you. It hurt, seeing such blatant mistrust in his gaze. It hurt to stand here and wonder if he was the reason you were single. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t the case, but all the pain mingled and was hard to separate. Looking at him made you feel hurt, yet hopeful; confused, yet still longing.

Broken, you inhaled as you shut your eyes. “Finn and I broke up.”

“You – what?”

You could hear the shock in Jimin’s voice. Shock, confusion – and maybe something else. Something more, which made you long to move closer.

“Yeah,” you continued. “We broke up on Saturday.”

Jimin was quiet for a moment, long enough for you to open your eyes. His expression had softened a little, but not by much. Instead, he cocked his head.

“That’s why you looked so sad in class today,” he said at last.

Apparently, you’d done a worse job of hiding things than you’d thought.

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s why.”

Jimin swallowed and nodded before looking away. He pushed a hand through his hair, leaving several strands ruffled as he lowered his hand. Multiple emotions fled across his expression until at last, he exhaled and looked back.

“How are you?” he said.

It was such a Jimin response, your eyes immediately filled with tears. Of course, with all this between you, his first instinct would be your well-being.

His eyes widened in response. “No – Y/N, no,” Jimin said, rushing forward. Forcing himself to stop, he held himself still. “I didn’t mean to… shit,” he cursed, hanging his head. “Even when I’m mad at you, I just… I don’t want you to be sad, Y/N.”

The simplicity of his statement settled over you, making your heart ache in all its jagged pieces. Jimin was so good. He was so good to you, and you didn’t deserve him.

“Well,” you said with a hiccup. “I’ve been better, but that’s not why I came here.”

“No?”

“I came here to apologize.”

He blinked, but didn’t respond, so you took this as a sign to continue.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” you said in a rush. “I had a boyfriend and no matter how bad things were between us, I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. At the very least, I should’ve stayed when you asked me to talk. I – I’m so sorry, Jimin. Things have gotten so messed up.”

While you were speaking, his expression began to change. No longer did he seem angry, but something within his gaze had changed to uncertainty.

Swallowing hard, Jimin looked away. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/N.”

“No, I –”

“It wasn’t.” He looked back. “I knew you had a boyfriend. I knew it, but it didn’t stop me from feeling something for you. I was the idiot. Of course, the kiss didn’t mean something to you. It wasn’t fair of me to… to expect that from you and –”

“It did, though,” you said, cutting him off.

Jimin paused. “What?”

“The kiss. It meant something to me”

Breathing hitching, he stared at you in confusion. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’m saying kissing you wasn’t about Finn,” you whispered, wrapping both arms around your waist. “I didn’t kiss you because Finn and I were fighting. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Because I’d been wondering for weeks what it would be like. That’s why I kissed you, Jimin.”

Staring at you, his expression turned wondering.

“He was cheating on me,” you said, wanting him to know the whole truth. “That’s what I found when I went to see him on Saturday. My boyfriend was cheating on me.”

At this, his face hardened. “He’s… a fucking idiot,” Jimin said, low and intense. “What was he thinking, cheating on you? I swear, I’ll–”

“I cheated on him too, though.”

Jimin stopped talking.

He stared at you for a moment, and something within him seemed to falter. In that moment, you knew he understood. The kiss had been a mistake. You had been in the wrong and still, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Neither of you did.

“That was different,” he said at last.

“Was it?” you said. “I think Finn and I have been drifting apart for a while now. Maybe if I had ended things earlier, things would’ve been better. I don’t know.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “But you can’t blame yourself for that, Y/N.”

“I think I can a little. I didn’t want to admit we were growing apart. I couldn’t see things were over between us because there wasn’t some big, glaring reason.”

“That’s hard for anyone to do, though.”

“It wasn’t for you,” you pointed out. “You broke up with your ex before college.”

“That was different. We weren’t in love. You loved Finn – or you did at one point.”

Slowly, you nodded. “I did.”

“And now?” The look he gave you was cryptic. “Are you saying things between you are truly over?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Things haven’t worked for a long time. I just didn’t want to see it.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, then his face gradually fell.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he said.

“Like a mess?”

“No. Sad.”

Staring at Jimin, your breath caught in your throat. The way he was looking at you made your heart ache and for a moment, you let yourself imagine a different reality. One where you’d never become enemies and instead, all the passion between you had been put into your friendship. Maybe even more than that.

At some point, Finn had looked at you the way Jimin did now. You just couldn’t remember the last time he had.

Even so, the fact that you’d compared Jimin to Finn in the same sentence was exactly the reason you needed to say what you did next.

“I’m not confessing to you,” you whispered, before you could stop yourself.

His expression flickered. “I didn’t think you were.”

“It’s just…” Trailing off, you shut your eyes. “I’m still hurting, Jimin. I might not be in love with Finn anymore, but I still love him. I don’t want to start a new relationship and have it become a mistake.”

“So. A new relationship would be a mistake?”

“It would be,” you said, opening your eyes. “At least, it would be right now. Finn and I broke up barely two days ago. I’m still hurt and confused and it just… I don’t want to mess anything up by diving into something else.”

Jimin looked at you intently, seeming to understand what you wouldn’t say. You couldn’t be with him until you’d moved on from Finn.

As intense as your feelings for Jimin were, it would be a mistake to start dating right now. The embers of your previous relationship still burned and if you entered something now with Jimin, he would always exist in the shadow of Finn.

If you wanted a chance at happiness – a real chance – you needed to give yourself some time to heal.

“I get it,” Jimin said, however quiet. “You should take your time.”

“Okay,” you said.

You stood there a moment, the silence lengthening between you but not in a bad way. It felt like a new kind of moment – one where you looked at Jimin and for the first time, saw possibilities and not only regrets.

“That’s all I came here to say,” you said softly. “I just wanted to tell you –”

“Y/N?” he said, interrupting.

Blinking, you stopped. “Yeah?”

Meeting your gaze, Jimin kept his own steady. “When you’re ready,” he said quietly. “You’ll tell me. Right?”

Thrown, you stared at him a moment. Finally, you nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’ll tell you.”

Jimin smiled. You stood there another moment before realizing there was nothing more to say. You’d apologized and he’d apologized. He knew you were single, but you needed more time. You’d tell him once your heart became available again.

Saying goodbye, you left Jimin’s room and when you entered the hall, you felt completely unburdened for the first time in months. This sadness still lingered, a heaviness in your heart from everything which had happened but for the first time in ages, the future felt open.

As you exited the building, you came to a stop on the sidewalk and took a deep breath. The inky sky above you was full of city light and beyond that, were the stars.

When you inhaled, the air burned your lungs but somehow, this provided the clarity you needed. Winter could be like that. It was painful, withering away dead things, but it also made way for new growth to come.

Smiling faintly to yourself, you began to walk home.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading 😊 WE ARE ALMOST DONE! Only the Epilogue remains! New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

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