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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

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Raise the Barre (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight for the last Raise the Barre moodboard TT she nailed it

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: sexual content. Dry humping, fingering, hand job, oral (female), breast play, multiple orgasms, Jimin gets turned on by making someone else come, dirty talk. Jimin’s pants are tight.

Word Count: 13,409

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.

“And… more pointe shoes,” you said, opening the box in your lap. “Wow. Thanks, mom and dad.”

Your dad laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said, nodding from the couch. “I know Russet gives you some already, but you can never have too many.”

“Out of curiosity.” You glanced at the tree. “Are there any boxes from you which aren’t related to dance?”

“Not related to dance…” Your mom pretended to think. “I don’t understand.”

“Mom!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding! Yes, there are other presents. You just happened to pick all the pointe shoe boxes first.”

Shaking your head, you placed the box aside. You smiled though, warmth in your chest at being home for the holidays. Classes at Russet had ended a week prior and it had been nice for a few days to simply relax. Already though, you found yourself itching to return to the city. It was strange to wake every morning and not head to ballet. It was even stranger to take classes at your old studio, trying to stay in shape before second semester began.

Playing with the string of your sweatpants, you couldn’t help glancing at your phone on the couch. It had been several days since you’d last seen Jimin in person. Oddly enough, the separation had been harder than you’d thought it would be.

Immediately after ending things with Finn, you and Jimin had tried to keep your distance. The pain of your separation had been too fresh to even consider dating someone else but, as time had gone on, you and Jimin had started becoming friends again.

It was hard not to be, with Jimin continuing as your dance partner and classmate. At the end of the semester, you’d had the opportunity to switch partners, but you and Jimin had chosen the status quo. It just made sense this way; you couldn’t think of anyone else you’d trust as much as him.

At first, things between you were strictly professional. You saw him only within the confines of the dance studio but eventually, his presence bled into your normal life. At first, the outings were small. Jimin went to a pregame you also attended. He saw you once at the coffee shop and, instead of running away, he stopped to chat. One time, he walked you back to your dorm.

When the month became December, you found your outlook improving. Most of November had been spent wallowing in your dorm, but the holiday season brought with it endless activities. The very first weekend of the month, a bunch of your Russet friends decided to go ice skating and you’d ended up tagging along.

The biggest problem had been you’d never ice skated before. Noelle had been patient, skating backwards in front of you and dragging you around the rink. Jimin had done the same thing for Hoseok, who was in a similar predicament to yours, and at some point, they swapped partners and left you skating with Jimin.

When he’d taken over for Noelle, your stomach had swooped. Hands touching, he’d led you gently around the edge and the world had seemed to still. It had been the first time you’d felt anything stir outside of your break-up. Whatever hurt and distance had sprung between you, it seemed something had survived between you and Jimin.

Nose red, Jimin had smiled as he skated backwards. “It’s easy,” he’d told you. “You just swivel, Y/N. In and out, in and out. Got it?”

“Um, no!” you’d yelped, nearly crashing to the ice when Jimin let go of your hands.

He’d laughed, catching you easily and skating like that for a while. Eventually, Jimin had helped you off the rink and gotten hot chocolate, which you insisted on buying. Payback, you said, for the impromptu skating lessons.

That day had been a turning point for you both. Throughout the month prior, you’d texted sporadically but after, you seemed to talk every day.

Jimin even offered to drive you home from Russet, given the fact that your hometowns were so close together. After much hemming and hawing, you’d eventually taken him up on the offer. The savings it gave your bleeding bank account were well-worth the potential discomfort.

This had led to both the best and worst twenty-four hours of your life.

Best, because Jimin was an excellent road trip companion. He let you choose the music, laughed at all your dumb jokes, and agreed to play the road trip games you suggested. You’d already made a firm rule not to compare Jimin to any past boyfriends but couldn’t help but note this as an improvement over anyone prior.

The sole reason the twenty-four hours were also painful was because you stopped at a hotel halfway through. It was either this or drive until 3:00 AM, so you chose the smarter option and rested for the night. You and Jimin bought separate bedrooms, but they’d ended up next to one another, so you’d been forced to spend a sleepless night imagining Jimin separated from you only by a thin sheet of plywood.

You had told yourself this was silly. At Russet, Jimin hadn’t been much further away, but something about the closeness in the hotel made you nervous. It was infinitely easier to forget about boundaries when you were separated by only a car console for hours at a time. Infinitely easier to forget the rules when you were outside of Russet, cocooned by his car and the snow.

You couldn’t help but think about the one kiss you’d shared.

That had only been a taste, barely a teaser, but the memory kept you awake for more nights than it probably should have. You couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss Jimin again, under different circumstances.

Groaning, you’d covered your face with a pillow that night and tried your best to sleep. It hadn’t really worked, and you’d shown up at the car the next morning with dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Forcing yourself back to the present, you glanced away from your phone and focused on the tree – only to see its screen light up in your peripheral. Grabbing your phone, you realized Jimin had texted. Stifling a smile, you scrolled through the conversation until you found his last message.

Jimin: MERRY CHRISTMAS! [10:23 AM]

Jimin:

Y/N: oh my god everything’s so... coordinated lol how long did that tree take to set up? [10:24 AM]

Y/N: and merry Christmas 😊 [10:24 AM]

Jimin: not long at all. I just googled ‘christmas trees’ and that was the first one I found [10:24 AM]

Y/N: ha ha hilarious [10:25 AM]

Y/N: so, what are the Park family plans for the day? [10:25 AM]

Jimin: the usual. Opening presents, going to my grandparents later for dinner. What about you? [10:25 AM]

Y/N: same, minus the grandparents. We usually have a pretty low-key day [10:26 AM]

Jimin: sounds nice [10:26 AM]

Jimin: what’s your favorite present so far [10:27 AM]

Y/N:

Jimin: LOL [10:30 AM]

Jimin: how many of them did you get? I’ve gotten two new dance bags and seven pairs of black leggings. It’s like our parents have forgotten we do anything else [10:31 AM]

Y/N: no new dance belts? 😈 [10:32 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, I’m shocked [10:35 AM]

Jimin: mind out of the gutter. Stop thinking about my junk [10:35 AM]

Y/N: as your dance partner, I have a vested interest in your junk. What if it breaks free in the middle of practice? [10:38 AM]

Jimin: the more delicate ladies would faint, I imagine [10:41 AM]

Jimin: and probably Paulo [10:41 AM]

Y/N: lmao [10:43 AM]

Y/N: but seriously, I hope you get presents other than dance gear [10:43 AM]

Jimin: back at you haha [10:47 AM]

Y/N: I can’t help but notice you didn’t get me, your dance partner, a Christmas gift though [10:50 AM]

Jimin: was the drive home not enough? [10:50 AM]

Y/N: oh, shoot. You’re right! You did get me a Christmas gift [10:51 AM]

Y/N: I’m the one who’s been remiss [10:51 AM]

Jimin: don’t forget about my housewarming gift, too [10:52 AM]

You smiled, sitting back on the sofa. Jimin was lucky enough to be moving off campus second semester. He, Hoseok and Alex Wong were moving into an apartment not far from Paulo’s. You and Noelle had decided to stay in Grace Hall, but you’d talked about moving someplace else next year.

Jimin was heading back early to move into his new place, so you’d need a different ride on your return trip to Russet. Still, you were looking forward to Jimin’s apartment hosting parties in the new year.

Y/N: don’t get greedy on me now, Park [10:54 AM]

“Who’re you texting?”

Jerking your head up from the screen, you nearly dropped your phone. From the couch opposite, your mom gave you a knowing look.

“No one,” you said hastily, setting your phone aside.

“Oh, really?” She glanced with your dad. “No one wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, his own car and excellent table manners, would he?”

Immediately, you felt your face heat.

When Jimin drove you home before Christmas, your parents had insisted on feeding him before he continued to Harleigh Heights. This had led to the weirdest double date of your life – which was, in fact, not a date – including you, Jimin and your parents for dinner. Luckily, your parents had been great and Jimin hadn’t cared, but you’d been endlessly mortified for your first date with Jimin to have included your parents.

Not that you’d called it a date. When Jimin had left that night, you’d brushed it aside and he’d simply gone along with it. After Jimin had left, you’d gone to your room and wondered what the hell you were doing. It was clear you still liked Jimin and wanted to be more than just friends. Still, something continued to hold you back.

You weren’t sure when it was considered appropriate to move on. The line seemed fuzzy, so you hadn’t dared cross it and Jimin hadn’t asked. You got the feeling you needed to be the one to make the first move – which made sense. You’d been the one who asked for more time. You’d told Jimin you’d say when you were ready.

Any next steps would have to come from you.

It had been weird to go home and not see Finn. His house was only fifteen minutes away from yours – you’d driven past it on your way to the grocery store last week. Still, seeing his home hadn’t caused the pain you’d expected. It was strange not to see him, but more like you’d forgotten something you needed to do, as opposed to missing his actual presence.

If you were being honest, Finn had crossed your mind less and less lately. Possibly because you’d been falling out of love with him long before you’d broken up in November.

Still, it would be unfair to jump into something before you were ready. You’d already hurt Jimin once this past fall and were determined not to do so again. No matter how good things had been lately between you, you didn’t want to make the mistake of dating Jimin too soon.

Despite this, things had become flirtier between you as of late. Exhibit A: casual text conversations about Park Jimin’s junk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly.

Your dad laughed as he stood from the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, grabbing another gift. “How about you open this one next?”

Accepting the thin package he handed over, you frowned. The box wasn’t large and, shaking it slowly, you heard no sliding inside.

“I swear,” you said as you began to undo the bow. “If you wrapped your passport photo again, dad...”

Laughing, he settled back on the couch by your mom. “It’s not that, I promise.”

Grumbling, you opened the box and immediately froze. Staring at the paper inside, you slowly looked up. “Is this… is this what I think it is?”

“It’s a plane flight,” your mom said with a smile. “I know we’re supposed to drive you back on the third, but we thought you might want to celebrate New Year’s with your friends.”

“But…” Speechless, you returned to the box. “We always hang out together on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know,” said your dad. “But maybe it’s time to start some new traditions, kiddo.”

With that, he stood and took his mug to the kitchen. Sensing he wasn’t needed for this conversation any longer, he began washing dishes and to prepare breakfast. Once he was gone, your mom moved to your couch and settled beside you.

“I… this is too much,” you said, immediately backpedaling.

“It’s not.”

“Well…” Hesitant, you considered the possibilities. “I guess Ari will be in the city for New Year’s Eve. Maybe Noelle, too. She mentioned she might go back early.”

Gently, your mom smiled. “That’s great if you want to hang out with them, but… didn’t Jimin mention going back before New Year’s?”

Startled, you glanced up. You were surprised she’d remembered. Jimin had mentioned it briefly at dinner last week – he’d said he was moving off campus, which was why he’d needed to return home to pack.

“I – he might have,” you said cautiously.

“I see.” She paused. “I just… I don’t want you feeling like you need to hold yourself back, honey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your mom glanced meaningfully at your phone. “I’m glad you’re taking time to yourself,” she said slowly. “It’s important to know who you are and what you want. But also – don’t feel like you need to follow someone else’s timeline when it comes to moving on.”

“I know, but…” You trailed off. “We only broke up in November.”

She shrugged. “Only you know when you’re ready, honey. I just don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for something that’s over. You’re allowed to be happy, even if you’ve messed up in the past.”

Swallowing, you glanced again at the gift. The plane ticket was for the day before New Year’s Eve. Plucking it from the box, you sat back on the couch.

“But…” you said lowly. “Mom, it’s only been two months.”

“And are you still in love with Finn?”

“No.”

“And did you learn anything from what happened this fall?”

“I… Yes. A lot.”

“Good.” Reaching out, she squeezed your hand. “Learn the lessons you need to learn, and then move on. Self-flagellation isn’t productive, Y/N.”

You nodded, still uncertain about what she was saying. Her words made sense, but everything she was saying uncovered a dormant fear. You were scared. Scared of hurting someone else, scared of being hurt by someone else in return. Your last relationship had ended so badly, it was hard to convince yourself it might be worth it to try again.

Finally, you turned to face her on the couch. “Does it ever get any easier?” you asked. “This fear of being hurt… does it ever go away?”

Something sad passed over her face. “Yes and no,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You’ll never be as innocent as you were in your first love. There’s something special about loving someone and never having been hurt before. Once you’ve gone through that kind of pain, you aren’t the same after. But… it does get easier. And better. You’ll know more about how to support this time, instead of tearing down. How to make a love stronger, instead of hanging on.”

Something about this speech gave you comfort, and you slowly nodded. Again, what she said made sense but if there was one thing you’d learned from the fall, it was no matter how great the advice was, it was impossible to take if you weren’t ready to hear it.

You continued wondering if the risk would be worth it. No matter how much you felt for Jimin, you couldn’t help but remember how you’d felt breaking up with Finn. You hadn’t been in love with him at that point and it had still been so painful. It was terrifying to imagine loving someone again and having things end the same way.

Your mom was right, though. You couldn’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t change. There were several ways you could move on from here. The main question to ask yourself was whether you wanted Jimin in the picture.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime.” Smiling, she stood and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to see if your dad needs help making breakfast. Don’t be too long, now!”

You nodded, watching her go, and then glanced at the ticket. Your mom’s words continued to run through your mind and after a moment, you picked up your phone.

Jimin had texted back.

Jimin: I would never! [10:57 AM]

Y/N: hey, so [11:01 AM]

Y/N: I did get one non-dance gift this year. A plane flight the day before New Year’s Eve [11:02 AM]

Jimin: oh, wow! That was really nice of your parents [11:03 AM]

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you found yourself newly determined.

Y/N: when do you get back again? [11:03 AM]

His ellipses started, then stopped, then started again.

Jimin: December 28th [11:04 AM]

Y/N: what are your New Year’s Eve plans? [11:04 AM]

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you felt your heart catch. Maybe you’d misread things. Maybe Jimin had moved on and didn’t care about you anymore. Maybe he didn’t want you to tell him you were ready.

Jimin: I’m free 😊 [11:05 AM]

Jimin: want to be my New Year’s Eve date? [11:05 AM]

Smiling ear to ear, you responded.

Y/N: yes. Please [11:06 AM]

On the actual day of New Year’s Eve, you found yourself stressed beyond belief. Standing in front of the mirror of your dorm room, you adjusted your dress and worried over the hemline. Jimin had arranged to meet you around 7:00 PM and it was dangerously close to 6:55.

“Is the dress too short?” you asked, turning a little to face Noelle. “It is New Year’s Eve in the city. Should I wear pants, or something? Will I be cold?”

Noelle considered, then shrugged. “Just drink more. Problem solved!”

Snorting, you turned back to the mirror. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress. You’d bought it at an after-Christmas sale and had fallen instantly in love. It had seemed perfect at the time, but now you were having second thoughts about the thin straps and tight bodice.

“Alright, so Y/N.” Noelle changed the subject. “Here’s the plan. Are you listening?”

Hiding a smile, you adjusted an earring. “Listening.”

“Good. Okay, so Ari and I will be at a party uptown. If the date goes badly, just say the word and we’ll call you a cab. You can be ringing in the new year with us within the hour.”

“Perfect,” you said. “It’s good to have a back-up.”

“It is.” Noelle paused. “Not that I think you’ll need this, of course.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Please.” She snorted. “What’s Jimin going to do? Be too charming? Too respectful of boundaries? Wear pants that show off his ass a little too much?”

“Noelle!”

She laughed, coming to a stop alongside you. Noelle wore a sparkly dress which made her skin glow, although this may have been the glitter dusted over her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she fluffed her hair.

“Seriously,” she said, meeting your gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know, I know.” Shaking out your arms, you forced yourself to exhale. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I went on a first date.”

Noelle considered. “That’s true. Allow me to give you some dating tips, then.”

Laughing, you turned around and sat on the futon. “By all means.”

“Alright – number one.” Noelle removed lipstick from her purse. “Don’t order anything with garlic. I know, that sucks because garlic is everything, but no one wants to make out while they have garlic breath. Rule number two!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Who said anything about making out?”

Noelle gave you a pointed look. “Just in case it should happen…”

Shaking your head, you sunk back on the futon, but you knew she was right. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. Ideally, you’d like to do more than kiss Jimin, but this seemed like too much of a jinx to say out loud.

Mentally, you agreed to the ‘no garlic’ rule.

“What else?” you prompted.

“Let’s see.” Noelle began to reapply her lipstick. “Relax.”

“What?”

Glancing at you in the mirror, she raised both brows. “I can see your shoulders tensing from here, babe. Just relax, okay? Tonight will be fine. You’re just hanging out with Jimin. You’ve done that before.”

“I know,” you groaned, lowering your face to your hands. “For some reason though, I’m very aware of the ‘date’ aspect of tonight. I don’t know why.”

When you looked up, Noelle gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could say more there came a knock at the door. Half-standing, you moved to open it, but Noelle shooed you back.

“Rule number three,” she said as she crossed the room. “Never answer the door for your own date.”

“What?” you laughed, although you sat back down on the futon.

Grabbing the handle, Noelle pulled open the door. Blocking you from view, she leaned her shoulder against the frame.

“Password?”

“What?” came Jimin’s voice, sounding confused.

“That’s correct!” Noelle stepped aside.

As you stood, you saw Jimin for the first time. He wore a pea coat over his outfit, his dark hair pushed back from his face in a devastating manner. When he saw you, Jimin froze, and you saw his eyes widen.

Silently, you congratulated yourself on having picked the right outfit. His gaze slowly trailed your body, lingering in places which made your cheeks heat. When he returned to your face, he slowly exhaled.

“Hey,” he said. “You… you look beautiful.”

Smiling back, you found yourself at a loss for words. “So do you.”

Jimin grinned and you stood there, smiling at each other like idiots until Noelle cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said, side-stepping Jimin to grab her coat. “I’m going to head over to Ari’s. You kids be safe, okay?”

“We will,” you laughed.

Noelle left in a flurry of kisses and glitter, waving goodbye as she stepped out the door. Jimin turned to face you once she was gone, offering a smile.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I brought you these.”

From behind his back, he pulled out pink peonies, which made you gasp. They were your favorites, a little limp from the cold, but still beautiful. Taking them gently from him, you turned them over in your hands.

“They’re wonderful,” you said happily. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

Glancing around, you found a clean glass near the sink and filled this with water. Arranging the peonies on your desk, you took a step back and cocked your head. You’d always thought the idea of flowers on dates was kind of cheesy, but now that you’d experienced it in person, it seemed unimaginably sweet.

“There,” you said, turning back. “All set.”

Jimin smiled at this, then glanced at your bare arms. “You’re going to be cold without a coat,” he said. “That’d be a bad way to start off the new year.”

“Oh – duh,” you said, hurrying towards your wardrobe.

Pulling a coat out, you slipped this over your dress and buttoned the front. As you left the room, you turned off the lights and shut the door behind you. Jimin walked with you down the hall, continually glancing your way from the corner of his eyes.

You felt oddly shy, despite this being Jimin beside you. Jimin, who you’d known since you were teenagers. Jimin, who’d been both the utter bane of your existence, along with the single person you trusted most in the world. He’d tossed you up in the air and caught you no question and somehow, this felt like the most daring thing you’d ever done.

It was strange to walk beside him, out on a date whose future held a large question mark. Excitement and uncertainty warred in your stomach, which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. You felt as though you stood on the edge of a precipice, staring into a ravine with no discernable bottom.

As you left the building, snowflakes swirled in the sky up above and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” you exhaled, breath frosting before you. “I didn’t realize it was snowing!”

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, tilting back his head. “Snow is my favorite weather, actually.”

“The wet and the cold does it that much for you, huh, Park?”

“That, and the romance of it all.”

Your smile softened a little as you fell into step alongside him. The snow continued to drift as you walked, melting as soon as it touched the pavement.

“So, where are we going?” you wondered, glancing at him. “You said you’d tell me once you picked me up and I’ve got news for you, Jimin. I’m here. I’ve been picked up.”

“Right, sure.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I made a reservation at this restaurant around the corner. The food’s really good so I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Huh.” Jimin paused. “That was easy.”

You shrugged. “I’m just excited for tonight. That’s all.”

His gaze softened a little when he glanced at you. “Me, too.”

Smiling, you continued to walk alongside him. New Year’s Eve in the city was a grand affair. The sidewalks were still lit with holiday lights, people hurrying past in brightly colored coats. Privately, you were glad Jimin had made a reservation at a restaurant instead of trying to brave a club or a bar. You’d heard horror stories from people who paid extravagantly to get into a club, only to spend the entire night waiting in line at the bar.

Turning the corner, you saw the restaurant Jimin had chosen and brightened. It was one you’d walked past several times and always wanted to try but had never found time.

Jimin held open the door as you entered. The inside still had their holiday decorations up, garland strung across every surface with tiny, white fairy lights hung up above. Everyone who was dining wore formal attire, laughing and chatting in the glow of the fireplace. The food smelled amazing and immediately, your mouth watered.

Joining the line at the hostess stand, you waited for the couple before you to leave and then Jimin stepped up.

“Park,” he told her. “Party of two.”

The hostess smiled, nodding as she flipped through her notebook. “One moment, please.” The longer she looked though, the more her face fell. After a moment, she glanced up. “Park, you said?”

“Yes.” Jimin nodded. “P-a-r-k.”

The woman nodded, flipping through her notebook again as though the name might magically appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up again. “There seems to be some kind of mistake. I don’t have you listed as a reservation.”

Jimin’s expression faltered. “Can you look again?” he asked, leaning forward.

The hostess nodded, running her finger down the numbered rows. “I can’t find you anywhere. Do you remember who you spoke with on the phone?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately fell. “Rebecca left the restaurant last week. It seems a few reservations slipped through in the transition. Is there… well, before I do that – let me see what I can do,�� she blurted out, turning around to rush into the restaurant.

Jimin watched her disappear and you saw his expression tighten.

Silence fell between you as you adjusted your coat. Jimin looked stressed and you weren’t sure what you should do about it. Frantically, you tried to remember times he’d been stressed during class, but before you could do or say anything, the hostess returned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking harried. “The restaurant is completely booked up. I was trying to see if we could squeeze you in, but there’s just no room. I’m so sorry. Normally, only one person does the reservations, but we’ve been so busy lately...”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping in. The poor woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Jimin glanced at you, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, returning to the hostess. “Thank you so much for your help – I appreciate you trying. We actually have a back-up reservation somewhere else, so don’t worry. We’ll come back another time!”

“Oh, really?” Her entire face brightened. “That’s so good to hear. New Year’s Eve, and all. Thank you for being understanding!”

“Yes, busy night,” Jimin said with a smile. “Take care of yourself!”

The woman nodded, seeming grateful when you stepped out of line. Jimin followed your footsteps, heading towards the door and then came to a stop. Slowly, he exhaled.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Where are these back-up reservations?”

Jimin winced and met your gaze. “I have none,” he admitted. “She just looked so sad. I wanted to put her out of her misery.”

“Wait.” Piecing this together, you paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he said miserably. “I only made reservations here and that was super lucky, considering most places in the city have been booked for weeks. I don’t have any back-up plans.”

For a moment, you could only stare. “So, you said all that just so that poor hostess wouldn’t worry about a mistake her restaurant made?”

“I – well, yeah.”

You stared another moment, then started to laugh. It started out small but grew until eventually, you were wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

Jimin watched you laugh, seeming thoroughly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Shaking your head, you paused to catch your breath. “You’re unreal. Most people would be super stressed about New Year’s Eve plans falling through, but here you are lying to make a hostess’ night better.”

He blinked, still uncertain. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted as you straightened. “It’s… wonderful,” you said to him shyly. “I like that about you.”

Slowly, his expression changed. “I really don’t have other plans, though,” he admitted. “I wasn’t lying about that. And I am stressed about my reservation falling through. I wanted this night to be perfect.”

The sweetness of this made your heart start to melt and newly determined, you nodded.

“We can fix this,” you said. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Like...” You paused. “We could hang out at my dorm. Or at your apartment! One of our kitchens has to be free, right? We could make dinner and hang out, watch the ball drop.”

“We could go to my place,” said Jimin slowly. “Hoseok and Alex are at a New Year’s Eve party uptown. We’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Let’s go there.”

“I should warn you, though – I can only really cook one thing.”

“Spaghetti-o’s?”

“Okay, two things.”

You laughed. “So, what’s the first thing?”

“A pasta dish they taught us in Senior Foods class. But it’s nothing fancy.”

“Perfect.” You shrugged. “That will go nicely with my contribution of store-bought bread and olive oil.”

Jimin started to grin. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Let’s go to my place.”

You smiled when he opened the door, following him onto the sidewalk. Jimin’s new apartment was a few blocks away, but time passed quickly with him beside you. Oddly enough, the mishap at the restaurant seemed to have cleared some of the lingering awkwardness.

Noelle had been right, you realized – you had nothing to worry about while you were with Jimin.

He talked while you walked, detailing the ongoing fight at his apartment about some posters Hoseok wanted to hang. This segued into the general ridiculousness of New Year’s Eve – a topic you wholeheartedly agreed with.

“It’s stressful,” Jimin complained as you walked. “Everyone’s always asking about your resolution, you need to find someone to kiss at midnight, and there’s that super awkward moment with the countdown and your date…”

You laughed, grabbing a basket as you entered the grocery store. Jimin had suggested you stop by, since he didn’t have much food at his place.

“Doesn’t the countdown make it easier?” you joked. “It really dumbs the whole process down. Fool-proof.”

“Well, sure,” Jimin said. “But then you end up staring awkwardly at someone for ten seconds while you slowly lean forward and wonder when you should blink.”

Laughing, you reached on tiptoe for a loaf of bread. “Alright, you got me there,” you admitted. “I’ve never had a proper New Year’s Eve, anyways. I’ve always been dating someone and then, it’s just kind of assumed you’ll kiss. None of the magic you see in the movies.”

Jimin nodded. “Most of that’s just movie magic, though. You aren’t missing much – trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you turned the next corner. “The anticipation sounds kind of nice. Wondering if someone will kiss you back, if they’re thinking about you the same way you are…”

Jimin made a humming noise, low in his throat.

Coming to a stop, he reached overhead to grab some pasta. Putting this in your basket, Jimin casually brushed your arm as you met his faze. Fighting back a shiver, you tried to remember what you’d been saying.

Giving a smile, Jimin continued forward and kept shopping. You stared after him a moment before your gaze dropped to his ass. Inhaling quickly, you remembered Noelle’s comment about Jimin’s tight pants. She hadn’t been wrong about that. Hurrying along, you quickly caught up.

Grabbing another jar, Jimin placed this in the basket. When he caught your eye again, he grinned, his hair falling forward. The sight made your heart flip-flop in your chest.

As you entered the check-out line, Jimin came to a stop alongside you. His gaze traveled the store, eyes widening when he glanced over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jimin gasped.

Startled, you turned. “What’s – hey!” you blurted when he took your basket.

Grinning widely, Jimin placed the food before the cashier. “Too slow.”

“Jimin, come on,” you said, slightly flustered. “I can pay. I –”

“You can pay next time, if you want.”

This shut you up and you stared at him a moment before you stepped forward.

“There’s… going to be a next time?” you said.

Jimin glanced in your direction. “If you want there to be.”

“I do,” you said softly, and he smiled.

Taking another step forward, he pulled out his wallet to pay and you let him – this time, anyways. Outside, it seemed to have grown colder since your arrival and you shivered as you exited the shop. Noticing this, Jimin immediately undid his scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “I don’t need this.”

“But then you’ll be cold,” you pointed out, accepting it anyways.

“I’ll jog in place to keep warm.”

“… With me walking beside you?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, even more so when Jimin began to demonstrate. He jogged for a few steps, then slowed to a walk.

“Changed my mind,” he said with a wince. “I’d rather be cold.”

You laughed, cheeks starting to hurt from both this and the wind. Jimin’s apartment wasn’t far, although it did turn out to be a third-floor walk-up. This left you slightly winded when you arrived at his place, to which Jimin shrugged and said the rent had been cheap.

Opening his front door, he led the way into – boxes. Tons of them, although most of the furniture had been set up around them. Jimin fumbled for a light, flicking this on and setting down the groceries.

“Most of the boxes are Alex’s,” he sighed, looking around. “Hoseok and I have a secret deal we’re going to unpack him ourselves if he doesn’t do it by Monday.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a detriment to Alex.”

“I never said what we planned on doing with his things once we unpacked.”

You laughed, undoing your coat to set aside. Glancing around, you saw Jimin was right. Most of the boxes were scrawled in the same handwriting. Beyond them, you saw the living room had been mostly set up with a couch and TV.

To your right lay the kitchen, in which Jimin was already unloading the groceries. Beyond him was a hallway, through which you assumed were their bedrooms and bathrooms. Wandering back to Jimin, you realized he was staring.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop. “Did I spill something on my dress in the store?”

“No,” Jimin murmured, shaking his head. “I just… I know I said this before, but you really do look incredible.”

“Oh.”

Looking at him, you felt your face growing hot. Jimin smiled and ducked his head, resumed pulling things out of the bag. Stepping from your shoes to place in the hall, you returned to the kitchen and pulled out a stool.

Sitting down, you propped your chin in your hand. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Glancing down, Jimin blinked. “Oh,” he laughed, undoing the buttons. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

You smiled, but this quickly disappeared when you saw what he was wearing. Jimin had worn a dark blazer and trousers, paired with a paisley shirt and black boots. He looked ridiculously good and again, Noelle’s comment about his ass came to mind.

She’d been correct – his pants were well-shaped and well-formed.

After removing both coat and shoes, Jimin returned to the kitchen and pushed a hand through his hair. You watched him get to work, leaning forward a bit when he began to dice vegetables. Immediately, your brows raised. It seemed Jimin had undersold his skills in the kitchen.

When you said as much, he laughed.

“Maybe a little,” Jimin said. As he pushed veggies from the cutting board, the pan began to sizzle. “It’s all part of my master plan. Set expectations low, then over-deliver.”

“It’s working,” you said with a laugh. “You seem pretty damn impressive to me.”

Jimin’s cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I seem to remember some shocking texts about my junk and dancer’s belts. You could just be after my body, Y/N.”

“I – that’s not!”

He looked up and grinned. “Kidding.”

Flustered, you blurted, “That wasn’t nice!”

Jimin laughed. “I’m sorry.”

You huffed, waiting a minute before you continued. “You do look really good right now, though,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes wide. As much as Jimin said he enjoyed being liked, it seemed to throw him for a loop whenever you said you liked him. It made you pause, mulling over this for a minute.

“You seem surprised,” you said quietly. “Whenever I say things like that, you always look surprised.”

“Well…” Jimin hesitated. “I just think… there’s been a lot of times where I never thought this would happen. It feels kind of unreal have you here. In my kitchen. On a date.”

“Times after November?”

Jimin paused.

Your brow furrowed. “Before then?”

Opening the pasta, Jimin added this to the pot. He stared into the steam, slowly exhaling before he looked up.

“Let’s just say I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admitted.

“What? But you hated me before Russet.”

“I…” Jimin trailed off. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

When he failed to elaborate and returned to his cooking, your eyebrows shot up.

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “You can’t just say that and not explain what you mean. What are you talking about?”

Jimin winced as he set down his spoon. “Okay,” he said, gripping the counter. “I guess what I’m saying is I never really hated you. Not truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He spoke flatly.

“But…” Confused, you searched his face. “You’ve hated me ever since we met, Jimin. That first weekend at NUVO dance competition. We were both called out to demonstrate and you tripped me!”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin released a low breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. That weekend happened a little differently from my perspective.”

“How so?”

“We were both called out to demonstrate,” he said, repeating your words. “But I hadn’t seen you before then. When we both reached center and I turned and saw you – I froze. I couldn’t remember how to act. Every thought I’d ever had just… flew out of my head.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jimin continued softly. “I’d never felt like that before. When you started to dance, it only got worse. I’d never seen someone dance like you did. That’s why I entered the combination late. That’s why I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time and that’s why I accidentally tripped you. I was… well, I was distracted.”

“By me,” you whispered. “You were distracted by… me?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” you said, breath catching. “This entire time, you haven’t really hated me?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “You could be really infuriating,” he said with a laugh. “There were times when you genuinely pissed me off. I meant it when I said I wanted to win against you. But also… I don’t know. I never really forgot the first time I saw you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure what you were feeling.

It made your head spin to hear this different version of events. Jimin hadn’t hated you – at least, not in the same way you had. He hadn’t been the one to make the first move after all. You had when you’d decided not to listen to his apology.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey – what’s wrong?”

Dropping his spoon to the counter, Jimin came around and stood beside you. Keeping your head down, you refused to look up until Jimin touched your arm.

“I just,” you exhaled, turning to face him. “It was my fault. This entire time, I thought you hated me and that’s why I hated you. But instead, I just decided to hate you – and for what?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “I wasn’t entirely blameless, you know. I was such a little shit at that age. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

“You tried to apologize, though!”

“Hey.” Gently, he gripped your elbows. “If it makes you feel any better, I did trip people just to get to the front. I was an ass. It’s why that Jungkook guy hates me. I started dancing later in life, so I was really hung up on proving myself.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t true,” you told him. “You didn’t trip me on purpose, and if I’d only been less stubborn –”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin smiled. “You weren’t the only stubborn one. Maybe it started off as a misunderstanding, but I didn’t really fight it. You were my competition as much as I was yours.”

“I guess,” you said quietly. “I just… I feel like I wasted so much time hating you. Maybe we could’ve even been friends.”

His gaze sparked. “Just friends?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Jimin,” you groaned, but started to smile.

“Listen.” Expression softening, Jimin moved closer. “Even if I had decided to explain all this in high school, would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Exactly. I was a dick back then.” He nodded. “Remember that one time I lied and told you the awards ceremony had been pushed back an hour?”

Sitting up straighter, you glared. “Oh, I remember. I showed up after they’d already taken the photo for Top Junior solos.”

Jimin grinned. “Or the time I put an out of order sign on the women's restroom after your solo at BRAVO, so you had to run all the way across the auditorium?”

“That was you!” you blurted out, wide-eyed. “No one would believe me when I said it was! Every girl was so pissed off at you that weekend.”

“Which is exactly why I could never admit it was me!”

In disbelief, you shook your head. “You did all of that just to get back at me?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, you weren’t innocent either,” he argued. “Remember the time you spilled an entire water bottle next to my bag so that when I sat down, my ass got all wet?”

Devious, you smiled. “Honestly, there was kind of an ulterior motive there. As much as I hated you, your ass looks great in damp sweats.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped a little.

Managing to shut this, he took a casual step forward. “Is that what you thought?” he murmured, barely able to conceal the thickness in his voice.

“I… may have noticed a few things about you.”

When he placed a hand next to you on the counter, your breath hitched in response. Jimin repeated this with his other hand, bringing his body a step closer to yours.

Hesitant, his gaze roamed your face. “What else did you notice?”

“I…” you exhaled and glanced at his lips.

The air between you could have been cut with a knife, heated for a different reason than the stove beside you. Which – eyes widening, you glanced over.

“Shit!” you blurted. “Jimin, the pasta!”

Startled, he looked in the same direction as you and realized the water was boiling. Rushing away, Jimin entered the kitchen and turned down the burner. Now that you were separated by a solid counter, you felt somewhat dazed when you glanced up and saw him.

Meeting your gaze, Jimin came to a stop. “Anyways,” he said softly. “Now, you know. I didn’t trip you on purpose. I never really hated you. And I’m incredibly glad you’re here tonight.”

Watching him speak, something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Smiling, Jimin returned to the pasta and you settled back on the stool. Delicious scents soon filled the kitchen and you realized how truly hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten much at lunch in preparation and by now, you were famished.

It wasn’t long before Jimin placed pasta onto plates, adding the bread you’d cut up on the side. He brought these to his table, disappearing briefly to return with two candles.

“Oo,” you said as you took a seat. “Fancy.”

Jimin lit the one closest to you with a flourish. “We aim to please, here at Park Jimin’s Fine Eating and Dining.”

“Is that the name of your restaurant?”

“It is.”

“And you’re set on that decision?”

“I decided on a whim, but I have no regrets,” Jimin said, taking a seat across from you. “Now, eat before you piss off the chef and he takes back your food.”

Laughing, you dug into the pasta before you. It was delicious and, after the very first bite, you sighed in appreciation. Apparently, Jimin had truly set the bar low. Conversation began to flow, any lingering tension disappeared after talk of your past.

It was the oddest thing. You’d heard stories from friends about other first dates. They worried about how to behave, what to wear, or what to say to their date – but none of these worries seemed to exist for you in the moment. You’d been so concerned before the night began, but now that you were here, all these worries seemed to fly out the window.

You’d thought you’d spend the entire night comparing. Comparing Jimin to your last relationship, comparing Jimin as a date to Jimin as a friend, but instead, it felt like natural progression. It wasn’t a matter of comparing Jimin to anyone else, but rather simply enjoying where the night led.

After dinner, you insisted on helping clean because Jimin had cooked and bought the food. Donning rubber gloves over your dress, you stood at the sink and began to wash dishes. Jimin laughed as he joined, pulling on gloves to dry the dishes beside you. Once this was done, he suggested watching a movie before the ball dropped.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you adjusted your dress and scanned the room. The posters Jimin had bemoaned were now hung over the TV – you wondered if Hoseok had managed to somehow sneak them past his roommates. Small touches here and there made you think of Jimin.

A game he’d mentioned was out on the coffee table and a blanket which smelled like him was draped over a chair. Pulling this towards you, you wrapped it around yourself as Jimin left the kitchen.

Holding two glasses of wine, he paused when he saw you.

“What?” you said, glancing down.

“Nothing.” Jimin cleared his throat. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you admitted, tugged his blanket closer.

“Shoot.” Jimin frowned. “The heat’s been weird since we moved in. I’m not sure how to fix – oh!” Setting the glasses down, he rushed towards the hall. “Do you want a sweatshirt?” he called.

“Yes, please!”

Jimin reappeared moments later, a navy sweatshirt in hand. Handing this over, he settled beside you on the sofa. He’d ditched his blazer and now, Jimin was dressed in only the paisley shirt and slacks.

Pulling his sweatshirt overhead, you somehow managed to get stuck right away. It was hard not to, with your hair and the dress, trying not to flash him while you kept your legs crossed.

After a moment of watching your undignified struggling, Jimin cleared his throat.

“Need help?”

“Yes, please,” you said weakly.

Jimin laughed, helping you free and once the hoodie was settled, you sighed and leaned back. Glancing sideways at Jimin, you found him already looking at you.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

Jimin blinked, then glanced at the TV. “Hm,” he mused, grabbing the remote. “We could watch the ball drop and enjoy the fact that we’re sitting inside, not standing in the freezing cold without any bathrooms.”

“I know!” you said with a shudder. “Out of all the stupid traditions, that’s one I’ll never understand.”

“How do so many people have it on their bucket list?”

“Right? That, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Zero out of ten. It’s cold, there’s wind and again, there’s the question of bathrooms.”

Jimin laughed as he scrolled through the channels. “Alright, so no to the ball drop. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“What movie?”

“Why’re you making me pick?” you whined, sinking deeper into his cushions. “That’s such a large amount of pressure.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to do it.”

You laughed and after some back and forth, decided to watch About Time. This was a movie about obstacles and falling in love, which seemed more than fitting because of the new year. At first, you and Jimin were watching diligently but eventually, he asked a question and conversation slowly drifted from the movie.

At some point, Jimin lowered the volume to focus solely on you. You curled deeper into the couch beside him, your thighs somehow touching and shoulders inches apart. Jimin’s head leaned against the cushion and he continued to smile in a way which made your heart flip.

“Here’s a question,” you murmured, no longer pretending to watch the movie.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What?”

“Why’d you tell Sabrina you only wanted to be friends?”

Briefly, his eyes widened. “How did… you know about that?”

“She told me.”

“Hm.” Jimin gave you a dubious look but moved past it. Sabrina had begun hanging out with your friends as of late. “But alright, I’ll answer. If I do though, you need to answer one of my questions. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, I was single when I came to Russet.” Jimin paused. “It was the first time in a long time, and I may have hooked up with a couple of people.”

“Hm,” you said tightly.

His eyes danced with amusement. “Jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

He laughed. “Anyways, I only hooked up with Sabrina the one time. Afterwards…” Jimin sighed. “I felt kind of weird about her asking me to switch partners. Then I overheard what she said about Ari at weigh-ins and just didn’t feel like anything more... Plus, there was the other reason.”

“And what was the other reason?”

“I was starting to like you,” he said, a bit softer. “The day you said you wanted to be friends was a giant weight from my chest. And the more relaxed you were around me, the more… I don’t know. The more I liked you, I guess. My mom has always called me her hopeless romantic,” Jimin said with a smile. “I don’t know about that, but I can be single-minded when I like someone. That was part of the reason I told Sabrina we shouldn’t hook up anymore.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

His smile turned lopsided. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.”

“My turn, then.” Smile disappearing, his gaze darkened. “Why did you really call me that night at the club?”

“Oh. That. Well, I –”

“And don’t say it was because I had a car,” Jimin interrupted. “There were a lot of people you could’ve called to help. You didn’t, though. You called me. Why?”

You hesitated before you realized there was only one answer. “I wanted to see you,” you said honestly. “I was scared, I was alone and… you were the person I wanted to see.”

Jimin’s gaze had become nearly black, the air between you thick with something unsaid. You were suddenly conscious of all each part of your body pressed to his. When Jimin shifted on the couch, you moved somehow closer.

He hesitated, then glanced at your mouth. “I don’t…” Jimin licked his lips, sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“You won’t,” you told him.

Something uncertain passed over his face. “Maybe we should take things slow.”

“Or,” you said slowly. “I could tell you things I like about you, instead.”

“And what would be the point of that?”

Your gaze shifted to his. “You’ve told me a lot tonight about how much you like me,” you said softly. “About how long you’ve liked me. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Something in his gaze cracked and he nodded. The TV in the background was quiet, only the noise from the street and the whoosh of the heater breaking the silence.

“First,” you said, glancing down at his lap. “You have really nice hands.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “My hands? I’ve always thought they were small.”

“Wrong. They’re the perfect size. Never have they dropped me.”

“Mm, that’s a good point.”

“And your smile,” you said.

“What about it?”

“I like your smile,” you told him. “It makes me smile.”

His eyes crinkled in demonstration. “Oh, yeah?”

“And your ears.”

Jimin laughed. “My ears?”

Reaching out, you delicately traced over an edge. “I’ve spent a long time looking at your profile, Park. I know what I’m talking about here.”

As your fingers moved lower, feather-light down his jaw, Jimin’s smile disappeared.

“I like your jaw, too,” you told him.

In the darkness, his gaze glinted, and you felt his jaw tense.

“And your lips,” you added, gaze lowering. “I like those a lot.”

“Y/N…” Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Yeah?”

He slowly exhaled. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“Jimin.”

He opened his eyes.

Your expression was serious. “I told you I wouldn’t jump into something before I was ready,” you said, lifting your other hand. “But I’m not in love with Finn anymore. It doesn’t hurt when I think about what happened last semester. I like you, Jimin. I want you. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I get if you’re unsure about this, though. If you’re unsure about me.”

Jimin’s gaze roamed your face. “Unsure?”

“I know I hurt you before. I shouldn’t have kissed you and ran away. But I promise this isn’t like that. I’m not running away. I’m the furthest thing from running and I –”

Cutting you off, Jimin pressed his lips to yours.

You shuddered a little, leaning into his kiss before he pulled back. Jimin exhaled, barely a breath before he kissed you again.

Noses brushing, lips lingering, the kiss slowly deepened. Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him forward to bask in his warmth. It was dizzying, how different this felt than last time. Last time you’d been heartbroken, desperately yearning each time your lips had touched.

Now, Jimin felt like air, like sunshine as you drowned in his presence. Hand grasping your waist, Jimin moved you closer so your chest nestled to his. Lifting his fingers, his touch skimmed your jaw, your hairline before he circled the nape of your neck.

Drawing away, he bit down on your lip. With a low sort of moan, Jimin sought your lips again. When his mouth opened yours, his tongue swept forward and you nearly combusted.

This was only to tease, though. Only to taste before he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Thumb skimming your jawline, Jimin tilted your head back to brush a kiss to your throat. Moving higher, he worshiped a slow path up the column of your neck. At your ear, he nipped gently before he returned.

Now, his kisses began to deepen. Mouths opening, your tongues brushed only briefly before he chose to withdraw. You were glad you were kissing on the couch, because suddenly your own legs felt weak underneath you.

Hand re-gripping his waist, Jimin pulled you against him. Eager, your hands found his neck and the blanket dropped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, though – you needed more, wanted to feel him fully beneath you. Rising on your knees, you swung a leg over his lap and settled on top.

Jimin hissed, his head hitting the back of his couch. Your dress had ridden up in the process, exposing your thighs – his thumbs skimmed the surface before he looked up.

“Shit,” Jimin croaked.

Smiling, you bent to kiss him again. Jimin arched upwards, each part of your body electric where you touched. He shifted his hips, granting friction and heat which made you short-circuit. Pressing yourself closer, your thighs sild backwards until they nestled around his waist.

Jimin’s hand found your spine, pulling you closer as his hips pushed upwards. You groaned when you felt him shift underneath you. The kisses grew steadily hotter, this ache in your core increasing with every touch.

“Can I…” Pulling away, Jimin glanced lower. “Can I take off the sweatshirt?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit dazed.

Jimin didn’t waste time, helping you pull this swiftly overhead. It was tossed on the ground and when your dress was revealed, he inhaled.

Slipping his hands up your bodice, Jimin met your gaze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

“Do what?”

Your breath hitched when his hands skimmed your breasts, lingering in all your softest places.

“Touch you,” Jimin said. “It was torture to see you, to look at you and not be able to do this. Not how I wanted, anyways. I’d tell myself not to think about it, but…”

“Jimin.”

He paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Jimin slid his hands lower. Cupping your ass, he pulled you against him and allowed his other hand to drift up your spine. You shivered, closing your eyes as your head tilted back.

His hands slid up your front, over your breasts and under the straps of your dress. Jimin’s thumbs drifted lower, brushing your nipples through the fabric of your bodice. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and saw his gaze darken.

Reaching higher, Jimin cupped the back of your neck and returned your lips to his.

He kissed you slowly, purposefully as you melted forward. Shifting against him, the kiss began to intensify. Mouths opening, your tongue swept forward in bold strokes against his. Suppressing a whimper, you ground your hips on his lap.

“Is,” you murmured, breaking free. “Is your bedroom unpacked?”

Jimin went still. “I – mostly, yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, releasing your thighs as he stood from the couch.

You laughed, sliding down his front as your feet hit the ground. Tugging your dress down, you followed Jimin when he grabbed your hand. He pulled you down the hall, coming to a stop at the last room on the row. Pushing open the door, he flicked on the light and came to a stop.

Stepping forward, you glanced around Jimin’s room. You recognized some of the items from the two times you’d visited Jimin in the dorms. Photos of his family were carefully hung on the wall and he had the same pillows laid over his queen-sized bed.

Turning around, you took a step backwards and sat on his bed. “It’s nice,” you said, patting the comforter. “I like it here.”

Jimin watched you, his gaze half-lidded from the hall. “I like you here.”

Cheeks heating, you watched him enter and gently shut the door. Leaning back on your elbows, you arched a brow.

“Where’d we leave off?”

Jimin exhaled as he crossed the room. “I think you were on my lap,” he said hoarsely, kneeling beside you.

You nodded, moving to straddle him as he leaned to the wall. Catching your waist with both hands, Jimin pulled you against him, kissing you roughly even before you sat down. Suddenly ravenous, his hands slid to your ass as he rolled you against him. Inhaling sharply, you sucked his lower lip between teeth as he groaned.

Reaching up, Jimin tugged on your hair as you inhaled, throat exposed for him to kiss slowly down your front. When he returned to your lips, you ground your hips impatiently over the bulge in his pants.

Shifting his weight, Jimin’s spine hit the wall. He stared at you, slightly dazed with his kiss-reddened lips. Without looking away, Jimin lifted his fingers and began undoing his shirt. You stilled, watching each inch of skin be revealed. When he reached the last button, you gave in and helped push this aside. Smiling, Jimin sat up as his shirt fell to the floor.

You weren’t sure where to look first. Hands faltering, you slid them up his abs, over his shoulders and down his biceps. He was so perfect, it almost hurt to look at. Jimin’s breath quickened as you touched him and slowly, he lowered you down to the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, returning your lips to his.

As you kissed it turned lazy, nothing but grinding and touching. Jimin’s hair was messy beneath the pull of your fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, his own hands digging into the curve of your thigh. Playing with the hem of your dress, he deftly slid upwards.

“Jimin,” you said, breaking free. “Unzip me.”

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded, following suit when you sat up beside him. Turning around, you exposed your back and Jimin began to lower the zipper. He moved slowly, taking his time as his fingers brushed skin. Holding the dress up with your hands, you waited until it was fully unzipped before releasing it to the floor.

Turning around, you found Jimin’s jaw slack.

“You…” He roughly inhaled while he scanned your body. “Lace, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

You may have gone overboard preparing for tonight. Although you hadn’t been sure what would happen, you also hadn’t wanted to be caught off your guard. Tonight, your constant need to plan had come in handy. Beneath your dress you’d worn a crimson lace bra and panties – a matching set which Jimin seemed to like, based on his expression.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, lowering his lips to your neck.

Kissing slowly down your chest, he came to a stop where the two halves joined together. Skimming the length of your torso, his hands trembled a little when he brushed the lace.

Jimin looked up. “I’m sorry I keep touching you,” he murmured. “I just – you’re driving me crazy. You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“You said that before,” you whispered.

“I meant it.”

Kissing again up your body, he lingered in places your skin was exposed. Inhaling, your eyes fluttered shut as you grasped his shoulders.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs. “Part them,” he murmured, and you obeyed.

Heart racing, you opened your eyes and watched Jimin drag a finger slowly up the center of your panties. Even you could feel how damp the fabric was, how wet and ready you were for him.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jimin sucked. “You’re soaking,” he breathed, sounding eager. “So good to me.”

Lowering his head, his tongue flicked your breast. Teasing the nipple through fabric, he urged and he sucked until it was fully erect. Moving onto the next one, Jimin grazed with his teeth until it pressed wantonly into the lace cup of your bra. Moaning his name, you arched against him.

Finding your wrists, Jimin pinned you backwards as he continued. Thighs caging your waist, he kept you hostage with his exquisite torture. The lace of your bra was now drenched, Jimin sucking debauchedly through fabric.

“Jimin,” you groaned, twisting on the sheets. “Please.”

His hips rolled lazily against your center. “Not yet,” he insisted before pulling back. “Not until you make a mess of my sheets. Want to ruin these panties.”

Sliding a hand between your thighs, he lightly circled your entrance. Feeling how wet you were, Jimin softly groaned. Sitting back on his heels, he finally relented and pulled your panties down. Tossing these to the floor, he returned to your thighs and spread your legs.

Lightly, Jimin dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down your panty line. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “Got my sheets fucking soaked.”

Separating two of his fingers, he slowly dragged his digits up and down your folds. You inhaled, feeling needy while you watched him touch you. Each brush of his fingers had you dripping – teasing over your entrance, he refused to give you exactly what you wanted. Feather-light, Jimin circled your swollen clit with his finger.

Hands gripping the sheets, you could only stare while Jimin brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was barely touching you, but it was the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. Jimin’s thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing you gently as you keened in frustration, arching against him.

He continued like this until you were gasping, begging for more and then – only then – did he slide a finger inside you. Legs trembling, you arched on his mattress and stared at him, glassy-eyed. When Jimin began to move in and out, you lost all control.

Lowering his head, he closed his lips over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered as you broke apart.

Barely did he suck before you were coming undone, pulsing around his fingers. Shuddering with pleasure, you collapsed on the bed as you rode out your high. Gently, Jimin pulled out his finger and returned to your lips.

Reaching behind you, he undid the clasp of your bra and tossed this on the floor. Once you were fully naked, he pulled you against him. You felt limp, thoroughly sated, but familiar excitement began to stir at his front pressed to yours. Tilting your head, he gently kissed you while your fingers wound in his hair.

Jimin moved slow, letting you take the lead. Your core continued to throb with oversensitivity, although this seemed to lessen the longer you kissed him. Before long, your nipples were hardening as you rubbed against him. Fingers digging into your thigh, Jimin pulled this over his hip to watch you lazily grind.

Realizing he still wore pants, you lowered a hand, determined to fix this. Jimin helped, dragging the zipper down to throw both these and his boxers down on the floor.

He bent to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Wait,” you murmured. “I want to see you.”

Jimin exhaled, leaning back so you could take in his body. If you’d thought his chest was unreal, it was nothing compared to his trim hips, sculpted thighs and cock nestled between.

“Oh,” you said, dragging a hand down his front.

Jimin shuddered a little. He was already hard, his cock thick and pretty with a reddened tip. It made your mouth water to look at, wanting to lick up the shaft. Reaching between you, you closed your fist around him and slowly jerked him off.

You watched in fascination as Jimin responded. His jaw tightened, abs tense while you teased over his frenulum. His cock responded instinctively, hardening further the longer you touched him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin shook his head. “No more,” he said huskily, taking your hand in his. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Oh?” you murmured, gaze darting lower.

He chuckled, a rough sound in his throat. “I like watching you come,” Jimin confessed, his cock hard between you. “It turns me on. I’m… still trying to recover from your last orgasm.”

“Oh,” you said, in a completely different way.

Jimin exhaled, hair falling forward. “I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Does it… weird me out that you like giving orgasms?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“How else would I put it?”

His grin became devious. “You could ask for another.”

Breathless, you nodded and Jimin’s gaze darkened.

He descended your body, not wasting any time as he positioned himself between your legs. Licking slow up your center, you gasped and instinctively drew your legs higher. Jimin didn’t bother easing you into it. No, now he ate you out like he wanted to.

Kissing your folds, he returned to your clit and sucked this into his mouth. Rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue, he teased and released before you knew what was happening. He continued to do this, spreading you underneath him and bringing you close to coming, only to pull back and leave you maddeningly empty.

Spreading your folds, he began licking sweetly over your clit. This was followed by loose, lazy sucking and more tender flicks. You stared dazedly at him between your legs, the sight more erotic than anything you could’ve imagined.

Grinding his cock into the sheets, Jimin thrust his hips while he pleasured you. You could tell he enjoyed this; each grunt from his lips was more affirmation. Moving lower, he circled your cunt with his tongue just to lap up your juices. You gasped at the sensation, having never felt it before. Flicking your clit with his thumb, Jimin fucked your cunt with his tongue before he slowly withdrew.

Spreading you wide, he returned to your clit and you clasped a hand over your lips before a moan could escape. Each curl of his tongue left you gasping, writhing beneath the pleasurable onslaught of his mouth. Pulling away, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh before he rose up your body.

At your mouth, he kissed your fingers. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he told you. “I want to hear the noises you make, Y/N. It makes me feel good.”

Removing your hand, you slowly nodded.

Jimin just grinned, dropping between your legs to begin eating you out again. This time, you didn’t hold back. Jimin seemed to appreciate this as you slipped further from control. He was so good with his mouth, making you see stars as your legs started to shudder. When he slid his finger inside you and fingered you again, your hands fisted in the sheets.

“Ji-jimin,” you gasped, writhing beneath him. “Jimin, I – oh.”

He began to move faster, adding a second finger as your insides clenched around him. Everything tightened, hovering at a breaking point while Jimin continued, relentless. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you – everything broke apart when you came, gasping his name.

Jimin didn’t move, kissing your sex as you slowly came down. He lapped at your sex, licking up your arousal before withdrawing his fingers. Once your breathing had steadied, Jimin returned to the sheets beside you.

“Good?” he breathed, draping an arm over your waist.

“Oh my god, yes,” you exhaled, burying your face in his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer. Jimin started to pull away, which made you look up and frown.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He paused. “I’m looking for a tissue.”

“Why?”

“I… I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“No, I mean why now,” you said, baffled. “I can come again, Jimin. I want to come with you inside me.”

Jimin stared at you a moment.

“Unless…” Uncertain, you hesitated. “You don’t want to…?”

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, sounding hoarse. “No – I want to. I really want to. Are you sure, though?” he said, reaching to open the side drawer of his bed.

You grinned when he pulled out a condom, ripping this open.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, moving closer.

Jimin rolled the condom onto himself, pausing before he went any further. Shifting his weight so he hovered over you, Jimin searched your gaze. Reaching lower, you casually stroked his cock and guided him to your center.

He didn’t enter yet, content to take his time. Instead, Jimin bent and kissed you, dragging a hand down your side. His fingers paused at your breast, tweaking your nipple until it stood fully erect. Moving to your waist, he curved under your ass and lifted your hips to his.

Arching upwards, you felt his cock brush your center. The touch made you pant, wanting him inside you and wanting it now. Rolling over his length, you marveled at the feel of him between your legs. Having him so close and not having him inside you was maddening.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, continuing to thrust between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged him.

“Alright, baby,” he said and rolled you onto your back.

It was the first time he’d used the endearment, sending a wave of warmth through you as your legs parted. Reaching lower, Jimin positioned himself at your entrance. It took him a moment to work his way in; you were so wet, he needed a second try. With only his tip inside, you immediately clenched and buried your head in his shoulder.

Lightly, Jimin brushed a kiss to your hair. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, making you glance up. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

Laying slowly back down, you tried to relax while he worked his way deeper. With slow, shallow thrusts, Jimin finally bottomed out and you stared at him in amazement. His cock was thicker than you were used to and stuffed to the brim like this, you felt so full. Glancing down, you saw his hips nestled snugly to yours.

When you looked up, Jimin met your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, hanging his head. “I just – I need a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you blurted, immediately worried.

A smile passed over his lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked up. “You’re just… fuck. I feel like a damn virgin. You’re so tight and wet, I’m losing my mind.”

Hearing him say this sent a shiver through you. Shifting your hips, you reveled in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Jimin groaned. “No,” he protested. “You can’t do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Try and make me move,” he murmured. “I know you can’t see yourself, so you can’t see how hot you look. Tits out, pussy spread and dripping all over my cock.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Sounding like that.”

“Jimin. If you don’t –”

He suddenly thrust deeper, grinding his pelvis against your core and making you groan. Speechless, you stared as he slowly pulled out. Jimin teased you with his tip, moving a few inches back in before he thrust again.

“Oh,” you groaned, jolted upwards on the bed.

His gaze dropped to your chest. “Fuck,” Jimin said quietly, dropping down to an elbow.

He moved again in earnest, thrusting slowly in and pulling back out. It made your breath catch, needing more but loving the torture. It was torture to feel every inch of him and have Jimin continue to hold back. You knew he could go faster, deeper, but wanted to stay in control.

Dropping his head, Jimin slowly kissed your neck. His cock continued to move, fucking you slowly as your legs opened wider.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

Your hips chased after his, hoping to coerce him deeper.

He smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” you said, arching against him. “I want more.”

“You want it harder?”

As he said this, Jimin increased his strength. Keeping the tempo the same, each thrust of his cock had your lips parting with pleasure.

“Yes,” you whimpered, barely hanging on.

“And faster? You want that, too?”

You nodded, slack-jawed as Jimin sped up the pace. His cock began to pound into you, hand fisting in sheets as he gave it to you hard. Arching underneath him, your hands dragged down his back as Jimin fully let go. With each thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed your clit and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“More?” he teased, continuing to fuck you.

“More,” you whimpered, sliding your hands up your breasts. Tweaking the nipples, you watched his gaze harden. “I want more, Jimin.”

He immediately moved, as though he’d been waiting for this. Grasping your ankles in one hand, he lifted them high overhead and pulled his cock out. You gasped when he did so, your hands falling to the side while you were put on display. The position pushed your pussy lips together, giving an incredible view of your dripping cunt.

Jimin plunged his cock back inside, nearly making you scream. It felt so deep this way – so deep and hard and deliciously wanton. Jimin fucked you from above, hips slamming into you and making your breasts bounce.

Jimin groaned, his hips never faltering. “Touch them,” he said, lowering your ankles to one shoulder. “Touch your tits for me, baby.”

You obeyed, hands sliding over your breasts to tease your nipples. This sent a shock of pleasure straight to your core and Jimin hammered your g-spot, making you see stars. Jaw slack, you could only lie there and take it while he made you come.

It was too much, the wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm, but then Jimin leaned forward and you finally snapped. You felt him release into the condom as you fell apart, rope after rope of hot cum inside you.

Eventually, Jimin softened and fell onto his elbow. As he opened his eyes, he sought your gaze and you smiled. His cheeks were flushed, his hair dark and sweaty and you couldn’t help the deep surge of affection within you.

“I don’t know about you,” he murmured. “But that was pretty fucking incredible.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Three orgasms weren’t enough?”

“Were they enough for you?”

“No.” Jimin laughed. “I could watch you come all night. But we should probably get you cleaned up and all that.”

“Probably,” you agreed, although you made no effort to move.

Eventually Jimin sighed and gently pulled out. Tossing his condom in the trash, he showed you to the bathroom and let you do what you needed to do. When you returned, Jimin was on top of his bed. He’d put back on his boxers and held out his sweatshirt.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, uncertain.

Smiling, you took it and lowered it over your head. Climbing beside him on the bed, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled beside him. Listening to his breathing, you concentrated until yours started to match.

Outside, cheers erupted from the street. Scrambling upwards, you fought to look out Jimin’s side window. As you hurried to see what the commotion was about, Jimin groaned when you flashed him your bare ass, but followed suit.

Glancing outside, you realized it must have turned midnight. Fireworks went off over the skyline, people cheered below, and someone had lit a sparkler on the street. Voices drifted higher, wishing each other a happy new year as slowly, you turned around to face Jimin.

He smiled at you, his happiness clear when he pulled you to him. A dizzying rush of what-if’s and excitement went through you and somehow, you knew this would be only the beginning.

“Happy new year,” he murmured.

“Happy new year,” you whispered, tilting your face up to his.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this series 😊 It’s been a whirlwind, so thank you for sticking with our main characters throughout the journey! I hope you enjoyed and are having a wonderful holiday season :) happy (almost) new year!

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #bts writing #jimin series #jimin writing #bts dance au #jimin dance au

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gucciwins · 4 years

Text

Trouble Follows

Harry’s a firefighter, he believes in accidents not coincidences but that changes when he meets Y/N multiples times at different calls.

Word count: 8128

A/N: Hello friends, hope you’re well. life has been eventful since the start of the year but when is it not. first story of 2021 and i’m excited to share it. i started this story a few months back (yes chicago fire was an inspiration). firefighter!harry is dear and near to my heart. i do hope you love it and let me know you thoughts. happy reading

It's the start of a twenty-four-hour shift.

A day that feels like it may never end until it does.

Harry's in the common room with the crew. He's got his black coffee, his first of many for the day, and the morning's paper that Lincoln dropped on the table. There isn't anything impressive; he grabs a pen he sees on the table and begins to do the crossword puzzle.

10 letters

1. down - crater creator.

Harry's already lost, and it is only the first one.

He's not good at them, not one bit. Sarah always ends up finishing the crosswords.

The chatter is loud, and as he slides the newspaper down to Mitch, who will silently hand it over to Sarah. Harry likes the morning buzz; everyone catches up from not seeing each other for forty-eight hours. Although, many do see each other, seeing as they are roommates. Harry used to live with Mitch until he moved in with Sarah last fall after two years of dating. Mitch told him there might be a wedding in the future or, as Sarah likes to joke about all the time, an elopement.

"Morning, H.," Wilson says, patting his shoulder, making his way to the empty coffee awaiting him. Harry knows they are seconds away from an outburst. Wilson can be just a tad bit dramatic.

The alarms begin to ring as he lifts up the empty pot. "Truck 51, Squad 3, 62, Battalion 25, Ambulance 62 House fire at 5082 North Bell Ave."

"Looks like we were saved by the bell." Lincoln laughs as they all rush out to get dressed and on the truck as quick as they can.

Harry and Mitch are out in seconds, never one to lollygag. The rest are quick to follow, slipping on their pants, and the coat quickly follows. Harry looks around, making sure everyone is accounted for before jumping into his spot in the passenger seat, Wilson at the wheel pulling out of the station with the siren blaring.

He watches the city go by as they rush to their destination. There is a lot heard of trees they pass by, and he knows they are passing the city park that is always filled with laughter and Harry knows they will be arriving soon, and as always, he prepares for the worst but hopes for the best.

They arrive in under ten minutes. It's a nice residential area, one that doesn't make frequent calls. The fire seems under control, not growing, but there is a lot of smoke. "Frankie, Lincoln, make sure these people stay back."

"You got it, Lieutenant," Lincoln responds quickly, getting to work, Frankie following right behind him.

Harry spots an old woman being held up by a young female his age. The old woman looks distraught by the fire, and Harry knows this must be the owner.

"Ma'am, I'm Lieutenant Styles. Can you tell me what happened?" He approaches, voice firm, ready to take in the needed information.

"She inhaled a lot of smoke. Can your paramedic check her out?" Harry's eyes shift to the woman. She's beautiful; she's in grey sweats and an oversized sweater that has what he assumes is Pascal from Tangled coming out of the pocket. Harry shakes his thoughts away, focusing back on her catching her last words. "Still in shock."

"Sarah," Harry calls out once, and she is quick to rush over. They set the old woman on the stretcher and quickly put an oxygen mask over her.

"Miss, may you tell me what you know. That way, we figure out the best way to get this fire out."

She's quick to nod. "Of course, I was on my way over to check on Mrs. Waters like I do every morning, but this time was different. Earl, her next-door neighbor, was outside calling 9-1-1. He told me he didn't see her run out. I rushed in to see her standing on the top steps of her staircase, staring into the burning room. She was coughing a lot, and I rushed her out. She thinks she knocked the candle down in her knitting room when she went down for her tea." She says all that in one breath. "The room is the first door on the left up the stairs. It's the back of the house."

Harry nods at her before turning away. "Mitch, you and Wilson take the hose through the side gate. Spray the room; it's a candle fire. Once it's out, let me know, so we can go in for a sweep through."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

Harry sees Mrs. Waters has begun to calm down and has the color back in her face. He knows they are going to take her down to Med to do a run-through. Harry turns around to speak with the young woman, but he doesn't see her anymore.

He's about to ask Sarah when he sees Chief Rivera run into a sprint and catches her in his arms. He didn't notice she began to walk away from him and over to the other pedestrians to assure them everything was alright. Harry yells for Esme, worried for the woman.

"I'm good." She barely makes out. "Think the adrenaline has run its course. That's all. I didn't even inhale that much smoke."

Chief Rivera ignores her protests and sets her on the side of the ambulance. "Please check her out." He directs his orders to Esme.

"Thanks for saving me, Mr. Chief. That would have led to a nasty concussion." Pascal sweater answers.

Chief gives her a quick nod before walking away.

"Miss, what's your name," Esme asks her. Putting an oxygen mask over her face and resting it on her nose and mouth. She takes a deep breath before answering.

"Y/N."

Beautiful name. It suits her.

"Do your lungs hurt or your chest?"

"No, do you think I can ride with Mrs. Waters?" Y/N interrupts Esme with an apologetic smile. "It's just that her granddaughter is her last living relative and lives an hour away. Her husband passed away four months ago. I'm all she's got."

"We've got room for you," Sarah responds, always having a soft spot even though you wouldn't know from her tough exterior.

Harry walks away, not hearing the rest of the conversation but feeling good that both are okay. He thinks she's crazy for rushing into a burning building with nothing on her to protect her, but he does this for a living, so who is he to judge?

Mitch gives him the all-clear.

Harry heads into the building with Frankie and Lincoln, no more thoughts of the beautiful girl he met.

He's got a job to do, and he has to do it right. They start in the living room before entering the kitchen, seeing dirty dishes in the sink and a plate of what looks like fresh banana bread. He's going to be left with that craving. Harry leads the way up, careful with the stairs just in case of collapse, seeing how black the once blue carpet has turned. There was a lot of damage, and it pains him to see such a well-loved house be affected this way.

"All clear!" He shouts, making sure Lincoln and Frankie head down before him.

Once back outside, Harry slips off his helmet. He nods over to Chief Rivera, who gives him a curt nod in return. He turns around to address the crew, "Pack it up." Everyone scatters to gather and put away their tools as quickly as they can.

All in a day's work, time to head back and hope each call is as successful as this one.

Harry might not tell anyone, but the woman Y/N stays on his mind all day.

Sitting in his office, getting paperwork done is not something he enjoys. He is good at it, though.

He's always thorough, a perfectionist.

It's essential because the Battalion Chief isn't kind at all, and even the smallest mistake on a report can send him on a full-on rage rampage. Thankfully, it's been a few months, and he is on his fourth wife stuck in the honeymoon phase, at least for the time being, giving them all some much-needed peace.

Harry has an open-door policy; he closes it; he feels he loses that connection to his friends. They may be coworkers, but after everything they have been through, he sees them as family, and one does not close the door on family.

It is also because he gets to hear all that's going on. Sarah and Mitch were going to visit his family in the upcoming month, and Sarah seemed far more excited than Mitch. Wilson had a new date lined up for the weekend to make up for the next few days he has to spend at work. Esme was talking Frankie's ear off about how she was knitting a new blanket for her niece and how each patch would be a different color with a different meaning.

He likes how well they all get on. Squad might keep their distance, but everyone does get along. It's not common in firehouses as he's heard from others. The hazing gets taken too far and ever a few male chauvinists. Don't worry, that isn't the one thing the Battalion Chief does not accept; he respects and loves women just doesn't like others' happiness.

Harry's proud of how far he has come, but most of the family he has become a part of. He knows how lucky he is. It also means he will never take it for granted.

They are his home away from home. Seeing as his family is an ocean away.

"Harry."

He looks up, seeing Mitch staring at him. "How can I help you, Mitchell?"

Mitch rolls his eyes, causing Harry to smirk. "Was wondering what you were doing after shift today?"

"Asking me on a date? Think Sarah might get jealous." Harry smirks at his best friend.

"It was her idea."

Harry smirks is replaced with a sincere smile. "Told you she has a soft spot for me."

"Dinner at my place? Have a few drinks, watch one of your favorite romantic comedies." Mitch suggests not at all like him to do so.

Harry was about to say yes when the alarm started ringing. "Truck 51, Squad 3, Battalion 25, Ambulance 62." A brief pause, "School fire 1260 West Adams."

"That's the small elementary school up the street," Harry tells him, shooting up from his chair and out the door to get in the protective gear.

Harry knows this fire won't be easy, but he's with the best of the best and knows it'll be alright. He knows they are approaching, and he always likes to go over how he wants things to be handled before getting out, but more significant fires need more focus. He also knows they all fall under the Chief's orders today and not his.

"Mitch and Wilson go in together. You know how it goes. Get everyone to head out, and our priority is getting the fire out" Harry looks back, getting a silent nod. "Candidate, how are you feeling?"

"Ready, Lieutenant." She answers confidently.

Harry gives her a sharp look, knowing he's got nothing to worry about her. Frankie is one of the best firefighters truck 51 has ever had. "Good, you'll be going in with Lincoln."

"What about you, Lieutenant?" Lincoln can't help but ask.

"I'm sure the Chief is going in. I'm going to stick with him." Harry knows his Chief well, and nothing will stop him from helping out.

Wilson parks right out front, and Harry can't see any smoke coming out. At least, not yet.

Harry is met with who he assumes is the principal; he didn't have time for an introduction. The woman explained there was a science lab gone wrong and that the sprinklers did not go off. They rushed everyone out quickly, following the fire drill procedures.

These kids are panicked but are being pointed towards an exit, and not until after the fire is controlled can they make sure everyone is counted for. Harry knows they have to work swiftly and make sure no one gets left inside.

A man with glasses and a smoked black salmon shirt approached them, and Harry assumed by the looks of it he was the teacher that was part of the fire. "The bunsen burner caught fire. I don't know why. We've done this experiment for years without accidents."

He eyes a few students wet and can assume the sprinklers went off much later than they would have liked. It means the fire has lessened, and it was safer to go in.

"We'll take care of it." He assures them.

"Get two hose lines in there." Chief Rivera directs right away. "Truck, Squad search, and evacuate. Let's go."

Everyone moves and begins to make their way into the burning building. It's a small two-story building; he sees frightened first graders to fifth graders watching him as he makes his way inside.

"Keep moving," Chief Rivera says to teachers ushering students out.

Harry knows Sarah and Esme have many people to look after and hope that more help can get there sooner rather than later.

As he makes his way inside, he feels the alarm ringing in his ears as he follows close behind Chief. It's something he's used to but doesn't mean he likes it.

"Fire department, call out," Harry shouts. He scans each room, not seeing anything and continuing on.

They make way to where the fire is, and it's growing.

Harry can see a bunsen burner tipped on its side. He takes a step towards the classroom and see's another tipped over but with a tear in it. It seems that one ripped and caught a spark setting the fire off.

"Chief, we need to get the gas off, or it'll only continue to grow." Harry looks over at Jorge, both waiting for the order to go in.

Chief speaks into his radio, asking where the gas shut off is located. Harry hears Florence recite back what a male voice told him to the Chief.

"Gas tank is in the backroom; it should shut it off. Be careful." His voice gruff.

"You got it."

Jorge leads, and Harry follows behind right on his heel. It only grows hotter as they make their way inside. He hugs the right side of the room, making sure to avoid the growing fire.

Jorge reaches to shut it when Harry notices a second one. "Jorge, there's two. We need to shut them at the same time." Harry hurries over. "Ready, turn!"

It clicks shut, and they let out a deep breath. Jorge pats Harry on the shoulder in acknowledgment.

"Let's head out. They need to hose this down."

Harry nods and follows him out, moving much faster this time. As quick as he was in the building, he now stands outside of it. He slips his helmet off, wanting to lose some pressure.

"Hey Chief, the fire's out." Lincoln comes out to inform.

Chief responds with a grunt, turning to the principal, holding a binder with lots of overflowing papers.

"What's the count?" Everyone holds their breath, waiting for the news. Squad prepared to go in if necessary.

"Everyone Is accounted for, Chief." She responds, a shaky smile on her face.

"Good."

Harry lets out the breath he was holding. There was no real injury today, and he is thankful for being burnt in a fire is not easy, and he knows that from experience.

His crew had begun to clean up already, and he was about to join when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turns to see a familiar woman but waits for her to speak; after all, she approached him.

"Hello, Lieutenant." She greets with a small smile. "There was no injury right. I checked over my students but want to know everyone else is safe."

"Injuries there were none unless you count Lincoln tripping into the truck on the way here." Harry jokes, not sure at all what made him break his seriousness.

She laughs. It's music to his ears.

He would enjoy being able to hear it again.

"Our team got everyone oxygen that needed it. The students and teachers are looking fine, and I assume parents have been informed of the incident."

"Called and picked up as soon as you clear out."

Harry stares at her for another second; she's wearing a lilac knitted sweater with bell-bottom jeans. He chuckles looks like he isn't the only one still wearing them out and about.

"You're from the North Bell fire," Harry tells her. He acts like her name slipped his mind, but that is the farthest thing from the truth. Her face and her name have not left his mind since that day. It's as if it has been imprinted.

"Yeah, Mrs. Waters. Good memory." She nods at him, obviously impressed. "She's good, staying with her granddaughter for the time being."

"That's nice to hear." Harry knows their conversation is coming to an end.

"Well, thank you for lessening my concern. Have a good day, Lieutenant Styles." She flashes him a broad smile, her eyes shining bright, keeping him entranced even after she walks away from him.

Harry watches her walk away, how she kneels down to talk to a young girl who was crying. Wipes her tears away with a handkerchief, she pulled out of her pocket. Little girl eventually laughs; it rings loud throughout the mess that way today; a child's laugh uplifting in a moment of darkness. It truly is the small things in life that should be appreciated.

His thoughts drift back to Y/N; what are the odds he runs into her just one week later.

She's pretty; he's not going to lie. He'd ask her on a date if he were to meet her at a bar, but no, never on the job.

If it's happened twice, maybe he's lucky enough for a third.

Although he hopes under better circumstances.

Harry had gone unbothered for over two hours, which is too long in the firehouse. He got the majority of his work done and decided to leave his office to find out what everyone was up to.

He was not surprised to see them in the common room, but he was shocked to see them all munching on cookies and not just any kind. They were snickerdoodle cookies, and they smelled divine like his mother had just taken them out of the oven with his watchful gaze eyeing every single one.

"Those smell amazing." Harry was quick to say eagerly, wanting someone to hand him one or five.

"Home-baked," Sarah calls out through a mouth full of cookies she was chewing.

Harry laughs because he knew that already. He reaches into the box in front of Mitch but is met with a slap on his wrist, and Harry quickly pulls back.

"Oi, that's not very kind of you, Mitchie."

Harry crosses his arms over his chest, but Frankie walks by a smaller box in hand, 'Lieutenant' written on top in elegant writing, and shoves it into his chest. He grabs it quickly, not wanting it to fall.

"Who brought them?" Harry asks because whoever baked something so heavily deserves all the praise, and he is more than ready to give it.

He opens his box and bites into the still-warm cookie. He holds back a moan, not up for the others teasing, but it truly is the best cookie he has ever eaten.

"It was the woman from the school fire, the one that approached you in the end," Sarah tells him, her hand reaches for a new cookie.

Harry frowns; she was here and missed her. No one thought to call him to come out.

If he is honest, he hasn't been able to get her off his mind. Two short interactions, and it is as if she has put him under a spell. He lets out a low chuckle at the thought.

He always tells others he has no time for a relationship, but the truth is he hopes for love. He just doesn't want it to be one night of passion. He wants endless nights, where it ends cuddling with the same person with constant whispers of I love you.

He's a hopeless romantic.

Harry would happily marry this woman. Although trouble does seem to follow her.

It might not be something he needs in life, especially in his line of work.

Golden's.

A safe haven.

A place that feels like home, where firefighters, paramedics, and doctors come for a drink and a good time. The perfect place to come drink away your sorrows with a shoulder to cry on in every corner—the ideal place to celebrate significant accomplishments with the friends that have slowly become your family.

Esme, a paramedic, and Jorge, a firefighter work at Firehouse 19 with Harry; they are the ones who opened up Golden's three years ago. Esme wanted a place to make creative drinks, and Jorge, well, he loved crunching numbers in his spare time, leading to this bar's birth.

Hanging on the walls are pictures of all their family and friends. Harry is proud to be displayed on the wall multiple times, and he loves each photo taken. His favorite being one that is hung right under what he calls his table. It's a photo of all of Firehouse 19 after he was made Lieutenant. Everyone in their uniforms dressed to the nines. Chief Rivera had the biggest smile on his face, as did Harry. Everyone around him had cheered for him, and they then all headed to Golden's for a celebration where his mother and sister were among his firehouse family. That picture always brings a smile to his face.

Harry sits there at his table with Mitch, his best friend, who he met entering the academy from the moment Harry said hello, and Mitch grunted in return he hasn't been able to shake Harry off, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

Harry has been told he has a lively personality, always conversing with those around him; Mitch was mellow, a wallflower. Mitch came to life around Sarah; Harry joked how he had heart eyes around her. Sarah is a force to be reckoned with. The kindest smile but the highest walls, she dropped them down without a second thought for Mitch, seeing as he was the one to make conversation with her when she was transferred from Station 25. Harry admires her strength and quick thinking. She had a dream of being a doctor but is happy as a paramedic for the time being.

The fourth seat at their table always remains empty, open to anyone wanting to sit down for a conversation, but never permanent. Harry knows as well as Mitch that it's being saved. Saved for that certain someone to walk into his life.

He's left wondering if he's finally met her.

Harry spots Esme free and gets up from his table to sit at the bar asking for two beers knowing Mitch will join him. He doesn't try to start a conversation, thoroughly enjoying the buzz of conversation around him and the comfort of Mitch next to him.

It's been three days since the high school fire and two days since the cookies, and all he can think about is Y/N. If he had to guess she was a teacher, he forgot to ask too focused on the fire yet too stunned to ask her why she was there. She had been quick to have everyone checked for and was most relieved when he confirmed everyone was counted for.

Harry was sure he'd never see her again, that she'd cross his path, and that was it. No, instead, he sees her less than a week later, but he made no move to ask her out even though he knows she's interested. At least it seems like she was. She didn't have to approach him that second time or send him his own box of cookies. If he were to meet her now, he wouldn't think twice about asking her out but meeting her out while on the job, he wouldn't let her be a distraction.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" Mitch says, interrupting his internal debate.

Harry takes a drink of his beer. "Nothing." He sighs. "At least I think it's nothing."

"That woman from the high school fire." Mitch states.

Harry chuckles; nothing gets past him. "Yeah, don't know why. She seems to invade my thoughts, and all I know is her name and that accidents happen around her."

"Maybe she's a firebug," Mitch suggests.

"She's not an arsonist." Harry nudges Mitch. "Don't joke about that. Her aura's too bright. You saw how she was with the students and teachers."

Mitch laughs. "Aura, what are you talking about?"

"Oii, leave me alone. I told you I got into meditating and have been doing lots of reading. Gem sent me this book about seeing and feeling it. Your aura gets brighter around Sarah."

Mitch's cheeks go red about to respond when his phone rings. "Speaking of." Harry sips his beer as Mitch takes his phone out.

"I'm taking this outside; she's checking in for the night. Letting me know she's alright." Mitch says, finishing off his beer. Sarah was out visiting family for the weekend, and Mitch couldn't join, so Harry was more than happy to keep him company.

Harry raises his hands defensively. "I didn't say anything."

His eyes follow Mitch outside, watching him hold the door open, phone to his ear when he sees her walk in. She's dressed in skin-tight jeans, hugging her hips nicely. A white silk top and completing the look is a black leather jacket. Harry shits in his seat, she looks fantastic, but he might need a shot or two to get the courage to go over to her.

Harry downs the two tequila shots Jorge placed in front of him, turning to look back at her when he sees two guys with her. It seems they know her well, standing so close to her. One has a hand on her back, and Harry's confidence deflates.

She's got a boyfriend, of course, she does.

The men are good looking Harry hates to admit, he knows he's attractive, but those two might give him a run for his money. They tower over her, like guards protecting a queen. She walks forward, both men trailing behind. She does a quick scan of the room as she approaches the bar, and smirk forms on her face as her eyes meet him for a brief second.

His view is quickly blocked when a female embraces her in a hug. She pulls back, and Harry is surprised to see that the friend is Frankie.

Frankie is the candidate he welcomed onto his truck six months ago. Frankie is remarkable, goes after what she wants, and gets along well with everyone. Chief Rivera was impressed from the start, and that's hard to do.

Harry sits there watching, wondering which one could be her boyfriend. The blonde has a good chance he has his arm thrown over her shoulder casually, but she doesn't lean into him. That makes him smile. Brings back the small confidence he has left. The group laughs at something the redhead said, and she reaches up to kiss the redhead's cheek so it could be him. Harry wants them to come this way and have Frankie introduce them, but they stay far enough where he can't hear their conversation, only her sweet laugh. He looks away but turns once more when he sees movement in the corner of his eye. It's Frankie wrapping her arms around redhead's neck and kissing him on the lips. The blonde has his eyes on someone across the bar, and just like that, Harry can breathe again. Y/N lifts her gaze and catches him staring; she sends him a sly wink before whispering something in Frankie's ear.

No boyfriend. That's good; it means Harry might have a shot after all.

He hears Frankie pass behind him, meaning she also passed by. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He startles when he hears a voice next to him order an old-fashioned. He knows it's her.

"Hey there, Lieutenant" She's leaning against the bar smiling at him. "Frankie was telling me you've never had a woman as a candidate." She says, taking a step forward into his space. Frankie comes behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "She acts all tough, but between you and me, it's all an act." She raises her drink to take a sip. "Just like you."

"Sorry about her Harry, we don't take her out enough to know how to act around others." Frankie jokes as she walks off with her three beers.

"Ouch." Y/N laughs as she watches Frankie walk away from them.

"You're very forward, firebug." Harry comments

She shrugs. "So I've been told." Y/N pauses acknowledging the nickname. "Did you call me an arsonist?"

Harry's eyes go wide. How does she know the term? "No, of course not. I know you didn't start those fires, but two run-ins around a fire the nickname is kind of perfect."

It really is. Harry hopes she agrees.

"Alright, Styles, I'll accept the term of endearment. As long as I'm the only one."

"Wouldn't want anyone else," Harry answers truthfully.

She looks him up and down clearly, not hiding she's checking him out. Harry feels confident in his outfit for the evening. He's wearing a vintage 'Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey' shirt tucked into black flared corduroy jeans. Her gaze stays on his forearms, admiring the tattoos. Her gaze lingers on the mermaid as if she wants to raise her finger and trace around it.

"So, you've been hiding all that under roughly 45 pounds of gear give or take the weight of items." She tuts, shaking her head. "What a shame."

"Not like I can do my job without the gear, makes running into a burning building easier."

"I suppose." Y/N smirks, a glimmer in her eye. "How fast do you have to put on the gear?"

He narrows his eyes at her, not knowing where she's going with this. "Under two minutes. Gets faster as time goes by." He answers cautiously.

"Pretty sure, I could undress you in less than that. Leave you in your boxers, or do you prefer briefs." She takes a sip of her whiskey. "Maybe you don't like using it, heard they could be constricting."

Harry can't help the blush that takes over his cheeks; he's never met someone so forward. He wants to get to know her, and by the looks of it, she feels the same way.

They stare at each other for a few seconds taking in the other's face. Harry notices the smallest detail, like the small scar close to her eyebrow. He catches the peaking of a tattoo from under her jacket. He's really intrigued now.

"It's Harry." He says, bringing his hand out to shake, knowing he's never appropriately introduced himself like she has.

She grabs it and leans in close. "Personally, I like Lieutenant." He shifts slowly, but then she gestures down without breaking eye contact. "Think you do as well."

She finishes her drink and sets it back down. She places a twenty on the counter to cover the cost of her drink and his. "I'll see you around, Lieutenant Harry."

She's out of sight in the next few seconds.

He wants her, more than for just a night. Harry wants to be the reason she laughs, the reason she smiles but most importantly, the one she gets to love. He has it bad. He's never met someone so forward and direct with their flirting; he really loved the attention.

Now that he knows Frankie has a connection to her, Harry knows he'll see her soon. Who knows when that is. He'll be counting the seconds until then.

Mitch walks in and sits next to Harry, pocketing his phone. "Miss anything interesting?"

Harry throws his head back and groans. "You have no idea."

Friday's are never the same. Harry feels like he can never prepare for these days. They had just gotten back from a call; it was a kitchen stove fire gone wrong. It was an in and out; a fire extinguisher was really all they needed. The family was very thankful. He was just glad they were smart enough to turn the stove off.

Harry had just grabbed a seat when the alarm began to ring. He knows everyone is holding back a groan, but it's their job. Sometimes there are either too many breaks or not enough.

"Pin in accident, Columbus Drive Bridge."

Harry is quick to dress, finishing first. He taps the side of the truck, "Let's go, let's go!" Everyone picks up the speed, and they are out in seconds. Wilson is not light on the honking, knowing an accident on the bridge is never good.

"Alright, candidate, remember to walk with a purpose, don't run." Harry begins.

Frankie nods. "Access the details before you act." She finishes off for him.

"Good."

The police are on the scene keeping back the curious group of people that have gathered. Harry shakes his head. All people love having a front-row view of accidents.

The accident looks bad, two cars: one car seems abandoned, a door left wide open. It seems to him that was who caused the accident, good things the police can run their plates. In the second car, the passenger seat door is jammed, there is glass everywhere. There is one person in the driver's seat, a blanket over them.

Harry approaches the vehicle seeing Wilson already assessing the passenger and how best to take them out.

"Female, mid 20's," Wilson calls out.

Harry sees her door is jammed in. "We need to pry open her door before getting her out. The hit was all on the passenger side, but please be careful we don't know her injuries."

Lincoln gets to work, Harry stands to the side, waiting to cut the driver's belt and out of the car.

"She had a blanket over her. The glass missed her face, but one got her abdomen. She's a funny one, taking the pain like a champ. She said she's a nurse so knows it didn't hit an organ." Sarah tells him, as she spoke to her from the back window wanting to best prepare for when they get her on the stretcher.

"Ma'am, how you doing? We are doing our best to get you out." Harry tells her, seeing the door being removed, quickly moving in to remove her seatbelt, which saved her life.

"Thought we were on a first-name basis, Lieutenant." She speaks quietly, voice trembly.

He steps back in shock, seeing her remove the blanket from her face. Her face clean of injury, Stevie Nicks' shirt red and ripped. She's hurt and laughing, but he feels like his heart wants to jump out of his throat.

It's Y/N.

There's blood, and she's injured, but she's okay.

She's fine.

She's alive.

He never wants to see her like this again.

"Took years to find this exact shirt. Got it for a steal at $10." She groans jokingly. "Do you have a remedy to wash out blood?"

"In fact, I do; how about I help you with it once you get these stitches?" Harry tells her, hoping to keep the conversation going, keeps her calm as it is doing for him.

"Asking me on a date on the job. Not very professional." She teases him.

"How do I know you didn't cause this accident just to see me?" He banters back.

He has her in his arms, taking her out slowly. She has very few injuries; he's carrying her to the stretcher when he hears her cries.

"It wasn't my fault you have to know." She cries out. "It was green, it really was, I promise. There are traffic cameras here, so check. I waited a few seconds then went and next thing I know I have the blanket over me. I've got quick reflects." She smiles slightly at the thought. "A nice lady told me help was on the way." Harry wipes her tears away. "I was on my way to the grocery store. Annie, my neighbor, wanted brownies, and I told her I would run to the store to get the items. She's going to be so upset."

"Not your fault, I believe you. Everyone here does." His heart is breaking. She doesn't deserve to feel this, especially when the other driver got away scratch-free, it seems.

"I'm the safest driver out there. I've never gotten a ticket, not even a parking one. When I took my driving test, I passed with zero errors. They said it hasn't happened in years." She groans as they load her into the ambulance.

"I believe you. Your insurance must love you." He comments, getting a small laugh out of her.

"Tell Frankie to send me flowers. I don't like coming home to no flowers."

Esme slams the door shut, and off they go.

He knows Frankie saw and heard; he knows Chief is with her. As good as one is doing their job, once family is involved, it's quick to lose one's focus. Harry knows he has to check on her once they are back at the station. He's going to encourage her to see her friend, not having to worry about the end of the shift because when it comes to family, that is their priority.

Harry knows Mitch is watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to give him any kind of sign he's not okay, but he knows better. He's not allowed to break down in front of his crew. Not something he lets himself do.

Instead, he does what he knows best. He gives orders.

"Pack up back to the station."

Just like that, they begin to load up the truck, everything in their rightful place, but all he can think about is Y/N and if she truly is going to be okay.

Harry is pacing outside her door.

Yes, he got her address. He had to know how she was doing. Frankie was kind enough to give it to him, not without a few warnings. As in if he did anything to upset her, she knew how to handle a halligan. Harry dares not to cross her. He, after all, has only honorable intentions for Y/N.

He takes a deep breath before raising his hand and knocking three times. He quickly takes a step back, not wanting to be too close when she opens the door if she opens the door.

It swings open, and there she stands in an oversized t-shirt and grey joggers. "I have been wondering when you would show." She grins at him.

Harry's eyes widened. "You knew I was coming?"

She nods. "Of course, Frankie had to make sure it was okay to give my address to a man I've only had one proper conversation with."

"It was two, really." Harry jokes.

"Two then." She smiles down at her feet, starting to feel bashful under his watchful gaze. That is when her eyes catch sight of the gift in his hands.

"You brought me flowers." She exclaims, reaching for the pink peonies, and he quickly extends his hand for her to take them.

"Wasn't sure your favorite. These reminded me of you and how beautiful you are." He shares, feeling his cheeks heat up, running a hand on the back of his neck, wanting her to say something and save himself from embarrassment.

"Thank you." She sniffs them. "I've always loved peonies, don't think I've ever been gifted them before." She moves to the side and gestures him to come in.

"Would you like something to drink? I would have offered you food, but I didn't cook tonight; Frankie dropped off Chinese for one." She gives him a small smile to make up for it.

"It's no problem; after the day you had, my well being is not of your concern," Harry tells her, happy to accept the water she handed him.

"See, you're wrong, Styles." Harry frowns, meeting her eyes as she continues on. "You have a dangerous job, so I feel I do have a right to worry about you."

"Fair enough."

Harry sips his water, and she does the same. He assumes she's trying to collect her thoughts. That is what he's trying to do.

He loses his train of thought as he begins to take in the yellow-painted cabinets; the hue holds a softness that allows them to stretch from floor to ceiling without feeling overwhelming. Brown granite countertops and hardwood floors temper the yellow; the bronze hardware marries the two colors. He's never felt so calm and safe in a kitchen.

Back to his thinking, a good reason to tell her why he came to visit her because indeed she'll have to ask.

It could be his crush on her, a growing infatuation. At this point, it might be like already.

One goal before he leaves her house is well-- to have asked her on a date.

Harry's train of thought is broken as she begins to speak.

"I want to apologize for breaking down in your arms. That wasn't right of me."

Harry scoots closer, placing a ringed hand on top of hers, resting on the counter; this causes her to look up at him. "Hey firebug, no need to apologize. It was a tough situation. The crew said you handled it really well." He smiles and gives her hand a squeeze. "I'm happy you're okay."

She nods and lets his words hang in the air for a minute. "I made brownies, and Annie helped me. She did the heavy lifting today. Do you want some?"

Harry knows she changed topics because she felt overwhelmed, and he was happy to follow her lead. "I'd love to try these brownies. If they were as good as your cookies, then I might just eat them all."

A huge grin takes over her face at his confession; he accomplished exactly what he was looking for.

"You loved the cookies?" She asks.

"Loved honestly might have shed a tear when I ate the last one. Your cookies are what I assume they give to eat in heaven." He jokes but very much meaning each word.

"Thank you, I'll be sure to take more down to the station soon." Y/N blushes looking away from Harry's piercing gaze.

"You know, I didn't even ask you how you're doing." Harry laughs, forgetting the reason he came over.

She laughs with him. "I did as well; if you'd ask me, it feels like a regular date night."

Y/N doesn't blush at her words, but Harry sure does. "Date night, huh." She nods. "I'd be up for more nights like this."

"Good to know."

They stare at each other for a few seconds taking in each other's smile and how easy it is together.

"Back to your original question, I'm doing good. Only needed five stitches and should heal up nicely." She puts her hand over her injury as if remembering the pain.

"Well, I'm glad you're well. I'm a phone call away if you ever need anything."

She all but glows at his words. "I'll keep that in mind."

After a while, Harry helps her move over to the couch, wanting her to be comfortable. He fixes her pillows a few times, wanting her to not feel any kind of pain. Y/N just basks in the attention; it's not everyday she has a firefighter fawning over her.

Time with Y/N seems to fly by because the next time his eyes catch sight of the time, it's nearing nine pm. He can tell she's knackered, but he and neither she sees an end in their conversation. It just flows so easy and who are they to try to stop it.

Harry is learning about why she moved to the city and how she has an interview next week for the pediatrics department at Med. Also, she was at the school because she volunteers weekly; Miss Lucy is a teacher Y/N went to uni with and likes doing fun activities with the nine-year-old.

Harry truly doesn't understand how she has so much to give to others, but he's glad to be receiving some of it as well. He hopes to give her back half of what she gives to others.

"I've always seemed to find myself in trouble. Never the cause of it, but it's always around. I always thought it was me, and it seems to be true." Y/N shares with him. She has struggled with growing up; she may have many friends, but she doesn't stay in a place long enough to make herself feel at home, but so far, it has been different.

Harry sees how much her words hurt to say. He leans over and grabs her hand. He squeezes it tightly before intertwining their fingers together. He really loves holding her hand, and he hopes she continues to allow him to do so.

"Where angels go, trouble follows." Harry breathes out, never breaking eye contact with her. It takes every fiber in his body not to reach over and plant his lips on hers. He so badly wants her to believe his words because he knows he does.

She truly is an angel from above, and he is lucky enough to be welcomed into her life.

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but never breaks eye contact with Harry.

They fall silent, basking in what seems to be their final moments together for the night.

"I should really get going, poppet. Got to let you get your rest." She nods and lets him help her up so she can walk him to the door.

"Do you believe in faith?" She asks as they stand outside the door.

He shrugs. "I never believed in all of that stuff, but in a matter of a few weeks, I've run into you four times, and I wouldn't leave that up to luck. I thank whatever brought us together and that they'll keep us together."

"I like that a lot."

He kisses her cheek softly. "As soon as those stitches are out, will you let me take you out on a date?"

"I'd prefer something sooner, but I can wait." She teases.

Harry nods; he feels like he does a lot of blushing around her. He really enjoys how she makes him feel.

"I'll check in tomorrow." He promises.

"Just so you know, if I need anything, I won't be calling for firehouse 51." He stops. "I'll be calling this guy that has a thing for me that runs into burning buildings for a living."

"Any time of the day, I promise I'll answer the call, poppet."

He had just put his seatbelt on when his phone began to ring. Harry picks it up, never breaking eye contact with her.

"Lieutenant, I need some help. See, I was in an accident today, and I know it might seem a little strange, maybe a bit forward." She bits her lip, not yet breaking the intense eye contact. "I could really use a cuddle to feel better. Do you know anyone that can help out with that?"

Harry shakes his head at her but nonetheless shoots her a dimpled smile. He jumps out of his car and strolls up to her—phone in hand, beautiful smile on her face.

"I would be honored." He leans in and connects his lips to her cheek; he lets it linger for a few seconds before pulling away. "Now, let's get you in bed. I heard from a little birdie you don't kiss before a first date, so the sooner you heal, the better."

Y/N lets out a small groan at Frankie. "Maybe I can make an exception."

Harry doesn't hide the surprise on his face at her words. "You certainly will make life more interesting."

She giggles as she leads him to her room, Harry following closely behind.

Harry knows they were meant to walk into each other's life. The feelings he is starting to feel for her something he has never felt before.

Call him cliche, but a never-ending spark has been ignited.

thank you so much for reading! i love you

come chat trouble follows with me

taglist: @bigspoonstyles @taintedwonder @sunflowersupremacy

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

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Meeting Tom Hiddleston 2

Summary: After meeting Tom Hiddleston you both have to fly back to your own countries. Once you read the inside of your signed book, you decide to text him. Thinks take an unexpected turn.

Word count: 2.539 words

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Click here to read chapter 1. But this chapter can be read seperatly.

Challenge accepted The weekend that you spend with Tom and your friends was amazing. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. You were back in your own country and Tom in his. Even though you had exchanged numbers, you were too afraid to text, afraid he wouldn’t reply. You unpacked your suitcase and came across the book you had Tom signed. You realized that you never opened the book, too wrapped up in his company. You took the book from your suitcase and sat down on the bed. You slowly opened the first page to see in eloquent handwriting:

Dear (Y/N),

I will certainly conquer your world, if that means I will have you kneeling before me 😉

- Loki

You felt yourself heat up and took a deep breath. Images about the first night, and the others were rushing back to you. You involuntarily squeezed your thighs together to relief some of the tension. Then you realized that this was a good excuse to text him. At least if he didn’t text back, you could try and move on. Hoping to fool yourself to think that would ever be an option. You were thinking about different replies, actually writing them down on paper. It had happened far too often that you were in the middle of rearranging the words of a text, only for you to hit send and come off as a complete idiot. It took a while but eventually you send:

I read your message in the book, you can certainly try but the last time I checked Loki wasn’t really that good at conquering worlds. x (Y/N)

And now came the part that you hated. You had to wait for him to reply. And while you were waiting you ran every worst-case-scenario in your head. From him not texting back, to him finding it weird, to him being disgusted. You were mentally slapping yourself all day for sending a text like that. But he liked the challenge the first time you questioned Loki’s method, maybe he would like your text? Or maybe you should have started with something more mundane, like how his day was going? You had checked your phone 10 times in the last 5 minutes. You knew it was ridiculous to expect someone to reply that fast, still, you felt like you had blown it.

The day went by agonizing slow, you tried to distract yourself but nothing worked. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, you barely had crushes on guys. The fact that you had sex with Tom and he spend a few days with you and your friends was amazing. You figured it would be out of your system by the end, but no. Now that you had a taste, you needed more. Much more! You were ripped from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing. Looking at the screen you saw the person calling low key. That was Tom, he had asked you would not put his real name in your phone in case you ever lost it and someone would find it. Your stomach tied in knots and you felt like you were going to be sick. After a few seconds you realized you had to answer, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

‘Hey darling, hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time?’ he asked. The way the word ‘darling’ rolled of his tongue in his British accent had you lightheaded.

‘N- no of course not’ you stammered.

‘Great, I just wanted to ask how your day was going’ he said.

You told them about his day and after that you asked him about his. When he was telling you, you started to wonder if he even read your text. After some chit chatting you were convinced that he hadn’t, maybe he never received it?

‘Oh, by the way, good new! I will be shooting a movie near by you. I will be there for a few months next week. I was hoping we could meet up’ he said.

‘Yes, of course! That would be great’ you replied eagerly.

‘Great, I have to go now, but I just wanted to let you know that I accept your challenge’ he said.

‘Challenge? What challenge?’ you asked confused.

‘The text you send me. I will conquer your world and have you kneeling by the end of the first day’ he replied in a low dark voice. Before you could reply he hung up. It took a moment before you realized what he meant. You swallowed hard and had to admit you were turned on by those words alone. You wondered what Tom had planned to complete the challenge. It was a challenge you for sure were going to lose, which felt like a win.

Over the next week Tom had texted some dubious things that got you worked up. He had sent some pictures of himself, after he was done working out, swimming or just ‘lounging in bed’. Most of them shirtless and his pants were so low you could see the V-shape by his hips. The pictures of him in bed were especially hot. He showed of his abs, his large hands near his crotch which was visibly hard. With the picture he had send a recording wherein he whispered in a dark voice al the filthy things he wanted to do once he was with you. You couldn’t help but touch yourself, the picture with the voice was too much. Tom clearly knew what kind of effect he had on you, because he called you a few minutes after he send it. You reluctantly answered the call, still extremely horny and wet.

‘By your panting I can only assume that you are doing what I think you are doing’ he smirked over the phone.

When you embarrassingly admitted it, Tom started to talk dirty over the phone. He was instructing you what to do and encouraging you to lose yourself in your pleasure. Which you did. After you came he said ‘that’s my good girl’ and hang up. The words did something to you, you were a bit surprised by it. You didn’t know if it was the praise, or the fact he called you his. Tom was a wicked man, a wicked man indeed. The next day he let you know that he would fly that day to your city. He asked for you address, since he had a lot of time that day. Thankfully, it was weekend, so you were also free. You didn’t which time he would come, he didn’t answer you after he got your address. Until you got a text that late afternoon that said:

Wear something that can easily be removed

Deciding to indulge him further you choose a short dress. You were staring at your lingerie and decided to tease him, you were going commando. Right before you were about the cook yourself dinner you heard a knock on your door. You squealed a little from excitement and rushed to the door. When you opened it, you saw Tom smiling brightly at you with his arms wide open. You immediately hugged him, he pulled you up and spun you around.

‘I missed you, darling. This week was torture’ he said.

You laughed a little ‘You surely tortured me the entire week’.

You let him in and to your surprise he still had his suitcase with him. But you couldn’t care less, right now the only thing you wanted to do was kiss him. Tom must have had the same idea, because once he closed the door behind him, he grabbed you and pulled you close to him. His lips were on yours in a second. There was nothing gentle about the way he kissed you, it was passionately, desperate. Like he had been starved and finally the thing he craved for. His hands started to explore your body and you were already helping his out of his jacket. You felt him smile against your lips.

‘Naughty girl, no panties. What happened to the good girl I met a week ago?’ he whispered against your lips.

‘Hmm, you corrupted her slightly’ you answered.

He just chuckled ‘Good, because I’m not done yet’

Once his jacket was off he helped you with the buttons of his shirt and stood half naked before you. He had kicked his shoes of and you were now undoing his belt and pants. A second later he was completely naked and you marvelled at the sight of him. Tom just smirked and helped you out of your dress. You wanted to kiss him again but he grabbed your wrists and hold you in your place.

‘Kneel’ he whispered in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine. You wanted to kneel, but you were curious to see this side of him. So, you shook your head ‘make me’ you challenged him. A wide smile appeared on his face, and you briefly wondered if this was a good choice, a bad one, or both. Tom walked to the couch, while still holing your wrists together. He sat down, his erect cock standing proudly between his legs. When he pulled you down you instinctively tried to get his cock inside of you, but he would let you. With his hands he pulled your wrists to your back and held them together with only one hand. You were facing him, your clit close to his cock which was begging for attention. His other hand slowly stroked your hips. You tried to squeeze your thighs together, but couldn’t. Your legs were around his, spreading you as he had spread his as wide as he could. Your clit was exposed and you were completely immobile. His stroking hand soon found you clit and you moaned loudly when he started to circle it with his fingers.

‘Tsk, darling. Already so wet, and I’ve barely begun’ he teased you. You only moaned his name in response.

‘I’ve been thinking about you all week, how it felt to have that pussy of yours clench around my cock, milking it like your life depends on it’ he said while stroking your clit faster.

You felt your orgasm build up and were craving your release. Right before it hit you, he stopped. Instead, his hand found your breasts and started to massage one. He ignored your whining and pleading for him to continue. You struggled against the hand that were holding your wrists, but he didn’t budge. He took your other breasts in his mouth and started to circle and bite your nipple. After that he left multiple bite marks on your breasts, he leaned back and looked proudly at his work. Then he grabbed his cock and he started to tease your clit with the tip of it. You felt your muscles tense up again and you threw your head back.

‘You’re so beautiful’ he whispered to you. ‘Before you send that text I was going to be a gentleman. Now, I want to fuck you every chance I get while I’m here’ he continued.

‘Maybe I will take you to set, stuff that pretty mouth of yours with my cock between takes’ ‘Or make you wear a remote-controlled vibrator the entire day, while I play with the buttons’

You were close, so close. But right before you came, he stopped again.

‘Tom, please’ you panted. You didn’t know you could take more of his teasing.

‘Tell me, what are you begging for’ he mused.

‘Take me, please’ you begged.

‘Is that the best you can do?’ he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Please, please, I want you so bad’ you said.

He leaned further back and released your arms ‘then kneel’ he said.

You didn’t have to be told thrice. You quickly got off him and kneeled between his legs. Before he could say anything you took his cock entirely in your mouth and hurt him groan and curse. You eagerly started to suck him, while swirling the tongue around his tip. You flattened your tongue and put more pressure on it when you slide it against his entire shaft. Tom’s hands flew to your hair and he pulled a little. When he noticed you started to suck him more enthusiastically, he pulled harder.

‘That’s it. My good girl’ ‘You’re a fucking goddess’ he praised you.

You felt his muscles tense and he moaned loudly. You knew he was close, but you didn’t stop. Tom grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you off his cock. You looked questioningly at him.

‘I want to cum inside of you’ he said darkly. He pulled you on his lap and didn’t waste any time to plunge his cock balls deep inside of you. You eagerly started to ride him while he was guiding your motions with his hands on your ass. His gaze was locked at your bouncing breasts. When you felt your orgasm build up, you threw your head back. He seized that opportunity to bite your neck, surely leaving a mark. But you couldn’t care less. When his fingers found your clit, he circled it a few time, and you came immediately. Your walls clenched around him and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. After a few more thrusts you rest your head against his forehead, and both of you tried to control your breathing. His cock was still inside of you and his possessive hands on your hips held you there.

‘That was..’ you started, Tom hummed in agreement.

‘Love, you have no idea what you are doing to me’ he whispered.

You laughed and wanted to move off him, but he tightened his grip and held you there. ‘Not yet’ he said. ‘Shouldn’t you check into the hotel tough? Usually, they don’t let you check in after dinner, which is almost’ you asked him.

He kissed you deeply. ‘I have till 10 pm to check in’ he answered. ‘When I’m here I would be busy and the hotel is like half an hour away from your place. And the set even more than an hour. So, I was wondering what you would think about me staying at your place?’ he asked.

You tried to think it over, but Tom started rambling ‘I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. I just, wanted to spend most of my time with you. But if you are not comfortable I will take the hotel. I didn’t mean.. It was maybe stupid too..’ You kissed him to shut him up and tried not to giggle at his change in personality. You liked how he could go from the dominant sex god to the sweet rambling idiot, just like that.

‘You can stay here’ you smiled brightly at him. Tom looked very relieved to hear you say that. You felt his cock harden again.

‘I- I should however start to cook, for dinner’ you said while trying to get off him.

Tom held you in place and kissed you deeper. To your surprise he stood up and held you impaled on his cock. ‘Bedroom?’ he asked. You pointed him towards the door behind the two of you. He started to walk there while kissing you. He laid you gently on the bed and slowly started to thrust. Your hands caressed his back and your legs wrapped around his waist. Tom left open mouth kisses on your lips, cheeks, and your neck. ‘I will help you cook, once I have you more intimately. Deal?’ he whispered.

‘Deal’ you moaned.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas

#tom hiddelson #Tom Hiddleston fandom #tom hiddleston story #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #shameless smut

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viastro · 4 years

Text

second life | xu minghao

ミ★ synopsis: in which jun and jeonghan pick out a book titled, Second Life, and find a message written to someone on the title page. it’s only then that they learn the untold story of two lovers who met at a library 35 years ago.

ミ★ genre: soulmate!au (kinda ?), multiple lives!au, fluff, light angst

ミ★ warnings: major character death (it’s not bad i promise)

ミ★ word count: 4,219

ミ★ pairings: xu minghao x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! when i wrote this oneshot, i couldn’t think of any other published book, so i decided to reference @sunlightwoo‘s series, Second Life, which is really good so make sure to check it out ! i’m going to be a bit busy these upcoming weeks because i have finals soon, and i also just got a job as a boba barista ! i’ll try to post a oneshot at least once a week, but we’ll see how that goes HAHAHA as always, make sure to give lots of love to minghao <3 i hope you guys enjoy this one !!

“Who would wanna go to the library over the amusement park? And why is it you instead of Minghao?” Jun rolls his eyes at Jeonghan’s questions as the two of them step into the city library. They bow their heads in the elderly librarian’s direction, before walking further into the pretty empty space.

“Minghao keeps telling me to read more cause he’s tired of me bothering him.” Jun mutters as his eyes trail across the numerous books on the shelves. Jeonghan purses his lips, before nodding his head in agreement, knowing that Minghao is on the verge of possibly committing homicide if Jun barges into his apartment one more time unannounced.

“This looks nice.” Jun says quietly to himself as he pulls out the story titled, Second Life. He opens the cover, only to tilt his head at the writing scrawled on the title page. Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at Jun’s confused expression, so he leans in close to check out what he’s looking at.

for yn,

as a reminder for a fairly wonderful day. i hope for many more to come.

affectionately yours,

xmh

“I guess this book was donated?” Jeonghan asks, glancing down at the page to see that it was published long before the two were alive. Jun nods his head, and they head over to the front desk to rent the story.

“Ah, no one’s checked out this book in a long time.” The librarian says softly, hand grazing slightly over the written words. Jun and Jeonghan share a glance, before turning back towards the elderly woman. “Do you perhaps… know the person who wrote that message?”

She glances up at the two handsome men, seeing their curious expressions on their faces. The librarian lets out a smile, nodding her head as she stamps the sticker in the book and slides it back in Jun’s direction.

“They were a beautiful couple. I was just a young girl starting my first job as a librarian when they first met here, actually.” Jun finds himself growing more intrigued, as does Jeonghan since the two appear to be holding onto the librarians every word.

“Can we hear their story?” Jeonghan asks, and they watch as the librarian smiles, before nodding her head. She gestures for them to move towards the couches, and she walks out from behind the desk and sits in front of the two.

“It’s a bit of a long one, if that’s okay.” The librarian warns, and Jun and Jeonghan shake their heads, telling her that it’s no problem. She lets out a sigh, glancing out the window to see the yellow rays from the warm, summer sun shine into the library.

“It was a beautiful spring day when they first met.”

Fucking hate pollen, you think grumpily to yourself as you rub your nose in an attempt to hold back the monstrous sneeze that threatens to escape if you inhale one more breath of the spring air. You notice the library around the corner, and quicken your pace as you walk over to escape from the allergy infested air.

Once you’re there, you practically rip open the door and jump inside the quiet building. You let out a sigh of relief once the door closes behind you, and you pause, realizing how loud you must’ve been when you entered the library. So you turn your head slowly, just to find the relatively young librarian standing there with wide eyes, and you let out a small smile.

“I’m so sor-” The words die in your throat when you feel that familiar feeling in the back of your nose, and you quietly try to fight it back.

god, please. I’m in the place that’s supposed to be quiet, so if you humiliate me and make me sne-

You let out a loud sneeze that resembles the sound of the large stampede of wildebeest that killed Mufasa in the Lion King, and it makes you want to shrivel up and die right in the entrance of the library. You wouldn’t mind, really. It’d be a peaceful way to go out, just right here. In this library. Actually, it’d be rather pleasa-

“Do you need a tissue?” You turn your head to see the young librarian holding out a tissue box from her desk, and you let out an embarrassed smile. Shaking your head, you lift up your hand to tell her that you’re fine, only to stop and turn when you hear the door open from behind you.

A tall man walks in with long red hair that’s parted down the middle. He’s wearing a black turtleneck with a sheer blue button down over it. Running a hand through his hair, he glances up from the floor and locks eyes with you once the door closes.

Love at first sight. You never believed it, didn’t understand the concept, really. Even thought it was stupid. How could you fall in love with someone just from a first glance?

So why is it that you can’t seem to be able to breathe as you stare up into his deep, brown eyes that seem to hold millions of thoughts as they bore into yours. Feeling heat rush up to your cheeks, you turn away first, and he quietly coughs into his shoulder.

“Sorry.” You mumble as you step to the side, feeling embarrassed for just staring at the ethereal man with an awed expression. You’re sure that he thinks you’re weird, and you debate on ways to escape the library while also being able to handle your allergies.

if i just shove the pieces of tissue up my nose, then i won’t sneeze every five seconds. brilliant.

However, the thoughts come to a stop when you find his hand outstretched towards you. Slowly, you glance up at the man, just to find a small smile on his face as he stares at you.

“Hi, I’m Minghao.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you slowly reach out and grasp his hand softly, letting out a grin when you do so. You watch as his eyes seem to twinkle in the sunlight, and you wonder how someone can be so ethereal as you say,

“Hi, I’m yn.”

“This book is taking a rather tragic turn.” You mutter as you turn the page, and Minghao glances at you out of the corner of his eye. He bites back a smile when he sees you upside down on the beanbag chair, reading Romeo and Juliet as you do so. Letting out a breath he responds, “You’ve read that book three times already, you should know that it’s not a good story.”

Rolling your eyes, you close the book and shoot the pretty man a glare. Minghao giggles when he sees you grumble to yourself about him always attacking you whenever you pick up any work of Shakespeares. You don’t blame him, Romeo and Juliet sucks, but you read the story for entertainment purposes.

“Always ruining my fun.” You complain as you move to the aisle to pick up another story. Minghao grins, placing his book down after marking his spot and following after you.

It’s been three months since you and Minghao met at this library, and the two of you have been meeting here almost every weekend just to read together. You’ve discovered that Minghao is not only physically pretty, but his talent and personality is truly unmatched. While Minghao has noticed that you shine brighter than all the stars in the sky whenever you speak of a book you’ve come to love.

Secretly the two of you have developed feelings for the other, but as always, neither of you have made a move.

“Are you going to pick out another boring story?” Minghao teases from beside you, and you shoot him a glare, “You stink.”

Minghao smiles, about to poke fun at you again, only to stop when he takes notice of the young librarian standing at the end of the aisle, holding up two glasses of water. You turn to glance in the direction Minghao is staring in, and immediately grin when you lock eyes with Areum.

“Areum! Are you going to read with us today?” You ask as you and Minghao walk over, quietly thanking her for the beverage as you both take a sip. She grins, shaking her head, and you immediately pout. “Why not?”

“I’m still on my shift, and I know how much you two enjoy your time together.” Areum says with a wink, and you feel the warmth rising to your face in an instant, quietly cursing Areum for her comments about you and Minghao.

Minghao clears his throat when Areum wiggles her eyebrows at him, and she smiles brightly at the two of you. “I’ll try and join you guys when I finish my shift, but just come to the front desk if you need anything.”

You both nod your head and watch as Areum turns and leaves the aisle. Letting out a breath, you turn and pull out a soft yellow book from the shelf, before walking back over to you and Minghao’s designated reading spot in the back of the library.

“What lame book did you get this time?” Minghao asks, and you scoff as you sit back down in the comfortable chair. You turn over so that you’re upside down, and he giggles at your strange position. “You’re lame.”

“Rude.” You grin at his response before holding out the book you chose, watching as the silver letters of the title reflect back at you. “It’s called, Second Life, I actually haven’t read this one before.”

Minghao purses his lips at the unfamiliar name, and you turn the book around so that he can also get a good look at it. Nodding his head, he pulls open his book again, “It seems interesting.”

“Wow, that’s the first time you didn’t call one of the books I chose, lame.” You joke, and Minghao chuckles. He shrugs his shoulders, turning to glance at you, only to find you already staring back at him.

Feeling the air shift between the two of you, you turn away after staring at each other in silence, and open up to the first page of the story. Minghao bites the inside of his cheek, before looking away and going back into his book as well.

The three unspoken words are left lingering in his brain as he glances over his book to take a peek at you, only to look back down.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” You ask as you watch Minghao look through the numerous books on the shelf to try to figure out what to read. He halts his movements, turning to glance down at you. “Do you?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you glance down at the book you hold in your hands as you recall what you felt the first moment you and Minghao locked eyes. The pretty man purses his lips, feeling his heart thump within his chest as he finally pulls out a book he decided to read.

“I didn’t, originally.” Minghao begins, and you raise an eyebrow. He stays quiet for a second, debating on whether or not he should continue as you tilt your head to the side at his silence. Running a hand through your hair you ask, “What happened that made you change your mind?”

Minghao turns towards you, and your eyes widen slightly when you take in how nervous he looks. He bites the inside of his cheek, rethinking his decision one more time.

you can back out, there’s no reason to say anyth-

“Then I met you.” Minghao says softly, completely ignoring his rampant thoughts, and the two of you stare at each other in silence for a long time as you let his words soak in. He lets out a sad laugh at the shocked expression on your face, running a hand through his pretty red hair as he nods his head with a tight-lipped smile. “It’s okay, I understand-”

You take a step forward and wrap your arms around his waist, making the rest of Minghao’s words die in his throat. A smile forms on your face when you feel his arms tentatively wrap around your body, his hand moving to cradle your head.

“You love me too?” Minghao asks, sounding breathless due to the shock of the feeling being mutual. You nod your head, closing your eyes when you hear his rapid heartbeat against your ear.

“At first sight.” You mutter softly, and Minghao smiles at your words. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, and the two of you stay like that for a while in the library aisle. Books that are in your grasp now forgotten as you hold each other.

Areum glances up when she hears the doors to the library open, and lets out a small smile when she sees you and Minghao walking in, fingers intertwined as you both immediately head towards the front desk to greet the young librarian.

“Hi Areum!” You whisper excitedly, and Areum greets you and Minghao with just as much enthusiasm. Minghao watches with a fond smile when the two of you begin to discuss any strange customers walking into the library, and Areum grins when she catches sight of this.

You and Minghao have been dating for six months, and still manage to come to the library almost every weekend. Areum is sure that the two of you have read every single book in this library by now, but she doesn’t question it. She enjoys your guys’ company.

“I’m going to set up our spot, are you gonna talk to Areum?” You ask Minghao once you and Areum finish your conversation on the guy who walked into the library just to look for any dust. Minghao nods his head, and you shoot him a thumbs up, before walking over to the reading spot.

“Did you need something, Minghao?” Areum asks as she begins to sort through the books atop of her desk. Minghao nods his head, glancing over in the direction you walked off to see if you’ll hear anything. She raises an eyebrow when Minghao pulls out a book from the pocket on the inside of his jacket, watching as he places it in front of her.

“Second Life? Are you returning this?” Areum asks, and Minghao shakes his head. He purses his lips, before pointing at the book with his finger as he grabs a pen. “I was wondering if I could buy it. It’s the book yn was reading when I confessed to her, and I think it’d be ni-”

“Of course!” Minghao’s eyes widen slightly when Areum scans the book, having not expected it to be that easy.

“Really? Are you sure I don’t have to go through a process to get the book or like-”

“Nope, just pay the cost and the book is yours. It’s not a big deal.” Areum reassures with a smile, only to internally slap herself when she realizes she’ll have to order another one later in her shift.

Curse Minghao and yn for being the most precious couple ever.

“Thank you so much, Areum.” Minghao says as he hands her money to cover the cost of the book. She grins, nodding her head as she hands back then leftover change. Once the transaction goes through, Minghao open the book to the first page and clicks the pen.

“Are you going to write a message?” Areum asks, and Minghao nods his head with a small smile on his face. She watches as the words make their way onto the page, and she feels her heart warm when he places the pen back down on the table.

“Thank you so much for letting me buy this. I’m gonna go head to the back with yn, are you gonna join us to read later?” Areum nods her head with a smile, and Minghao shoots her a thumbs up. He turns and walks to the back where you are, and Areum lets out a happy sigh.

“Never thought soulmates could be real until I saw those two.” Areum mutters to herself, chuckling when she hears you let out an awe, most likely due to Minghao handing you the book as a present.

“Maybe I should leave the painting to you, huh?” You say as you take a step back to stare at your canvas, and Minghao hums when he turns around from his own creation to take a look at yours. He lets out a smile at the numerous smiley faces and flowers you painted, thinking that the painting is rather endearing. “I think it looks nice.”

You scoff with a playful grin, pointing over at his painting that numerous different colors, all splattered onto the canvas. You don’t understand how he was able to make paint splatters look beautiful, but this is Xu Minghao we’re talking about. The most talented man you know.

“Says the reincarnated Picasso over here.” You joke, and Minghao rolls his eyes. He places his paintbrush into the cup and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around the back of your shoulders and resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Yours is sweet, it speaks volumes on your personality.” Minghao explains, grinning at the excessive use of yellow. You squint at the painting, turning to glance up at your boyfriend, causing him to smile down at you. “Which is?”

Minghao purses his lips, glancing back at the painting once more to think about his response. He giggles, looking back down at you with a teasing smile on his face.

“Someone who doesn’t know how to paint.” You reach out and slap his stomach, making him double over in laughter as you chuckle in response. Minghao lets out a happy sigh, finally calmed down from his joke as he stands back up at his full height. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your lips, before pulling away and grinning. “I’m kidding, art is whatever you want it to be. I’ll hang this up in my room when it dries.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, watching as Minghao walks back over to his painting to start cleaning up. You watch as he quietly hums a song to himself, and you let out a content sigh, ignoring the pain in your head in order to enjoy what’s going on in front of you. Minghao feels your eyes on him, and he turns back to see you smiling softly at him.

“Mmm, you’re staring again.” Minghao murmurs as he places the paint tubes back into their container. You shrug your shoulders, a sad smile on your face as you stare at your pretty boyfriend, “I just like seeing you.”

Minghao pauses, a slight blush rising to his cheeks as he proceeds to continue cleaning up. You grin, before turning back to start cleaning up your area as well, grimacing from the growing pain in your head that you’re trying to ignore. Minghao turns and catches sight of the sunlight casting a glow on your face, and he smiles softly.

“I like seeing you too, yn.”

Areum walks over to the front desk, moving to check back in the books that were returned, only to hear the bells of the door. She raises an eyebrow, only to let out a smile when she sees Minghao walking in.

“Hey Minghao! Where’s yn? The two of you haven’t been here for a few months.” Areum says cheerfully, only to feel her heart fall slightly at the sad smile Minghao sends her way. He bites his lip as he walks over and rests his hands on the top of the desk.

His long red hair isn’t styled like it usually is, instead just laying over his forehead. She takes notice of the dark bags under his eyes, and the slight hollowness to his cheeks. Areum opens her mouth to ask if everything’s alright, only to stop when Minghao places the soft yellow book face up on the desk. She stares at the cover, and slowly looks up at Minghao, trying to see if what she’s thinking isn’t true when she locks eyes with the pretty man whose face always held a smile when he was in the library with you.

“Yn’s gone.” Minghao mutters softly, thumb grazing over the letters of the title on the book. Areum clenches her fist tightly together at her side, refusing to believe his words. Minghao bites the inside of his cheek harshly, before pushing the yellow book he bought towards Areum’s direction.

“It’s yours now. Thank you for the kindness you showed yn and I whenever we came here, I know she appreciated it a lot.” Minghao tells Areum, before turning around to walk out. Areum’s eyes widen slightly, and she walks out from behind the desk and stands right behind the tall man.

“W-why does this sound like goodbye? You’re coming back, aren’t you?” Areum asks, eyes frantically searching Minghao’s when he turns to glance at her. He reaches out and softly pats Areum’s shoulder, giving her a smile that no longer holds any light. “Maybe if my second life is kind to me, then I’ll be back.”

And with that, Minghao turns and walks out of the library, leaving Areum to stand there, sadness overcoming her heart as she watches his figure slowly shrink until it disappears.

“His name is Minghao?” Jun asks once Areum finishes the story, and she nods her head, taking a sip of water to fix her parched throat. Jeonghan and Jun share a glance, before turning back towards the librarian. “Did you ever hear from him after that?”

Areum nods her head again, letting out a small smile. “He sent me a letter from Singapore a few years after he left the library, but I learned that he got into a car accident a month prior to when I received it. He passed at an early age, but I’m glad to hear that he was doing alright. It’s been maybe, 25 years since he passed.”

Jeonghan purses his lips, glancing at the book Jun grabbed. He leans forward in the seat, and Areum glances up at him. “We actually have a friend named-”

“I didn’t think you guys would actually go to a library.” The three turn to glance at the sound of the voice, finding Minghao standing at the doorway with a bright smile on his face. Areum’s eyes widen, and she slowly stands up from the couch in shock at the sight.

It’s Minghao, she thinks to herself as she stares at him. His hair is now its natural shade of black, a contrast to his long red hair years ago, but it’s still a similar length. He looks up and locks eyes with Areum, and he tilts his head to the side, a smile still on his face as he bows in her direction. “Hello, I’m Minghao.”

Jun and Jeonghan glance at each other when they see the shocked expression on Areum’s face, and the pieces of the puzzle slowly make their way together when suddenly the bell on the door rings again. The three of them glance at the door, and Minghao slowly turns his head, just to feel his breath get caught in his throat.

Your eyes widen slightly at all the people crowded near the door, and you stop when you realize someone is right in front of you. You glance up and lock eyes with the prettiest man you’ve ever seen, and all the thoughts in your brain disappear at the sight of him. A familiar feeling floods your senses, one that you can only relate to the feeling of coming home.

Unbeknownst to you, Minghao is feeling the exact same thing. Except he feels more emotional as he stares down at you, heart pounding against his chest when he catches the sparkle in your eye.

Areum’s mouth drops open when she sees the exact same scene she saw 35 years ago when you and Minghao first met. Her heart thumps against her chest, and she slowly raises her hand until it rests against her heart as she stares at the two of you.

“You look familiar, have we met before?” You ask in a small voice, letting out a smile when you catch sight of the redness to his ears. Minghao clears his throat, smiling when he sees the brightness to your eyes. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment longer, before you extend your hand in his direction. You tilt your head to the side with a shy smile on your face, “Hi, I’m yn.”

Minghao bites the inside of his cheek, grinning when he reaches out and grasps your hand. He feels warmth flood his features at the contact, finding you both beautiful, and familiar. It’s as if he’s experiencing deja vu when he says, “Hi, I’m Minghao.”

Jun and Jeonghan turn and look at the soft yellow book resting on the table, and Jun let's out a breathless chuckle. He runs his hand over the title, smiling when he looks back towards you and Minghao.

“His second life. He found you again in his second life.”

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rovingrahal · 2 years

Text

4 ways How to make a successful travel investment

Most people's investments are their college stock and real estate, the best investments I've made are planning tickets and car rentals, so one of the most common questions asked by people is how can they afford to travel.

In the past 3 years, I've spent a lot of money on travel but on every trip, I've made I've always made the money I spend and often very profitable so the first thing for me is that you've got purpose travel we all have trips because it's fun and interesting, but when you are planning where you want to go, think of multiple goals you can achieve on your trip, find something good.

How can it be an investment?

It doesn't have to be a cash investment, but you just have to find what your travels will benefit you in, for example: maybe you want to go to Switzerland for an epic physical century interval so you can sell that as stock footage or every location you want to shoot in a particular location to create An epic video only, it doesn't have to be movie related, there are endless opportunities.

How you can make your travel investment?

it just requires some creativity so for me a few years ago I got an internship opportunity in Switzerland where I made educational videos for a human rights group each weekend I would have free time to visit new countries so I would have to think to myself how would traveling to this destination be an investment for me.

for example: maybe if I go to York or Spain I can get an epic shot of me jumping off the sea arch that would make a cool Blog or Vlog if I go to this place in Greece I'll be able to get some awesome footage of one of the world's craziest beaches and get some other viral content there if I can't find a good reason to go on a trip.

besides having fun I have a hard time justifying spending the money in time so I guess my point is we all want to have a fun time while we travel so if we can also have another reason to go it can make your travels investment in home hopefully make you some money while you're at alright so another way traveling can be an investment is you can use your travels and experiences.

Build Your Portfolio

can help you get jobs and other opportunities while back I was a role to my classes at college but I decided to take a leave of absence for that semester and my brother and I decided to go on a two-week content trip to Europe I bottomed out my bank account buying new camera gear and covering all my travel expenses we went to Ibiza for Halloween.

we explored Reese's famous cities of Athens and then we headed over to Meteora we roamed the streets of London and we finished the trip with two days in Iceland I mean we got some of the most incredible footage and it was one of the most memorable trips of my life.

after those two weeks were over I came back broke and I was honestly a little discouraged but I was able to use that footage to make my two years blog and a few months later I use that blog to help me get an internship at the iconic beautiful destinations you don't know if beautiful destinations.

the most famous travel brands so for me it was like a dream job anyways I got the internship and worked with them in New York City all summer long blogging about them it was just an awesome opportunity so if you look at traveling from that aspect heavy trip might not make you money but you're building your portfolio and also improving your skills which can help you land your dream job.

Educational Investment

some of my greatest life lessons weren't learned in a college lecture hall rather they were discovered when I was traveling in a foreign country being present and learning.

from my surroundings, he discovered a lot about who are and what we value in life and it helps you evaluate where you want to be in the upcoming years traveling has given me my greatest memories it's where I've truly felt alive.

new things that make you feel the same excitement you felt as a child because everything is it's new it's not the same old grind when you're living back at home I remember the first time I saw the northern lights I was sleeping on this cliff edge in Norway's arctic circle.

it was just a just your-fork surreal experience it was a memory I'll cherish forever and an experience I would have never gotten if I decided to never leave my country.

so one important life lesson that I realized is that I've never regretted the money that I spent on traveling the only thing I've regretted is wasting time and not traveling more we can always make more money but our time is limited and some opportunities will only come once.

when old people are on their deathbeds and are asked what their greatest regrets are most of the regrets aren't about things that they did rather they regret the things that they didn't do to keep that in mind if you are scared about traveling you are scared about all the things that could go wrong. just remember that thousands and millions of people have done the same thing you want to do and they've been safe.

just give it a go have some faith and give it a go the most important thing about traveling is you just got to do it and as you travel more you'll find ways to make it an investment whether it's a monetary investment or it's just an educational investment in yourself.

there will always be a reason to not travel but there are a thousand reasons to go and see the world it may break your bank and you have to go work a week or two to make that money back I almost guaranteed that you won't regret it. travel you'll be grateful for the memories you made for the rest of your life all right so to end this blog. going to go through those points one last time so

Travel with a Purpose

the first thing is the travel with a Purpose all of us want to travel for fun but if you can find several reasons why traveling to a certain location benefit you this will help turn your traveling into an investment.

Build your Portfolio

will help you land jobs and other opportunities you wouldn't have gotten otherwise thirdly you can travel to make content which helps build your social media lastly traveling is an.

Educational Investment

will have life lessons that you will never get in a college classroom so anyways hope you enjoyed that blog.

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jean-kayak · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Chapter Warnings: cursing, a lot of sexual tension lmao

Word Count: 2139

A/N: Alright, here it is! I’ve been working on this for a while now, if you’ve been following my shitposts, and I’ve been really nervous to post it, so I would like to thank @styxtm for reading this chapter and giving me the confidence to post it! Hope you guys like it!

Tags: @her-majesty-kiara, @germfart3, @styxtm, @iwascrybaby

Chapter summary: Someone you’d never thought you’d see again literally walks back into your life

"When are you gonna be done? It's hot as fuck out here," you complain, waving a hand in front of your face, but it doesn't anything to cool you down, instead spreading the humid, sticky air across your face.

You hear Jean groan as you set down the tray of nails you have in your hands on the ground, throwing your hair up in a bun, getting the curls off of your neck. "Stop complaining. It's not even that bad."

"You chose to build a storage unit during one of the hottest days so far in the summer," you respond, and he just chuckles as he blindly holds his hand out. You pick through the different pieces, finding the one he needs before dropping it into his hand.

"My mom wanted it built, and my stepdad's been too busy, so I offered to do it."

"You offered to do it. I just came over here to hang out," you say, sighing heavily as you rest a hand on your hip.

You've been best friends with Jean since you were kids, growing up in the same neighborhood, literally living right next to each other, and when you graduated high school, you both ended up going to different colleges.

You had decided to stay on your college campus for the summer after your freshman, not ready to go back home yet. Now your sophomore year of college is over, and both you and Jean ended up coming back home to do who knows what, but ever since you both have come back, you've either been over his house or vice versa.

Both of your parents always joked about how it seemed like you two were separated at birth, constantly attached at the hip, and sometimes it really does feel like he's a brother to you. He was always there for you when your other friends weren't, and since you were an only child, he saved you multiples from boredom due to not having anyone to spend time with.

"I'm almost done, I just need you to help me hold this last wall." You walk over to where he's standing, resting your back against the wall as he screws in the last few nails. "Okay, I think that's it," he says, and you both walk back as you take in the new building.

You both tilt your head, the building finally seeming to stand upright. "How'd you manage to make it slanted?" you ask, and Jean sighs as he lets his head fall back in annoyance.

"I don't know," he says, looking through the instructions, and you look to your left as you scoff lightly.

"Well, those look like the foundation pieces," you comment, pointing to the plates that the building is supposed to be on top of. "You did good though, I just don't know how long the building will last."

"Whatever, I'm done. It's hot," he sighs and you bristle as you both start walking towards his house.

"Says the one who said it wasn't even that bad," you argue, and he waves you off.

"That's because the clouds were providing shade." You huff lightly at his weak counter.

"Yeah, okay." Your body nearly goes limp as you feel the cool air wrap around your body when you step into the house, Jean sliding the patio door closed, cutting off the stifling heat. You plop down on the loveseat, sinking down into the plush leather as it cools your heated skin.

"Heads up." You open your eyes in time to see Jean throwing you a bottle of water, and you catch it easily, opening it as he sits down on the couch. "What else are you planning on doing this summer?"

You shrug lazily. "I don't know. Party?" you try, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"You want to spend the whole summer partying?"

"There's nothing else to do, and Ymir always finds the best parties." You had been friends with her since high school and by your senior year, you were joining her at a different party almost every other weekend. You wouldn't really say it was the best time of your life, but it definitely gave you a distraction from the current dilemma you were having at the time. "Pretty sure there'll be one soon since everyone's coming back. Unless you have any better ideas."

"I guess I'll go to a few, but I don't--"

The sound of the front door opening and an awfully familiar voice cuts Jean off. "Damn, it feels good in here." The dilemma walks into the living room, stopping when he sees you and Jean. "Oh, shit, what're you doing here?"

"At my house? I could ask you the same thing," Jean shoots back at his brother, and you feel a strong urge to leave, running back to your own house. "I thought you were staying in that city, why are you here, Eren?"

Eren fucking Jaeger. The stubborn dilemma you had to deal with all of your life, but it especially got worse to deal with once you got to high school. Probably the textbook definition of a bad boy, the sleeves of tattoos you can see on his arms and the piercings solidify it.

Oh, and he's also your best friend's older step-brother.

He shrugs. "Dunno. Guess I just wanted to come back, glad I did though." You look away when you see him smirk, knowing that last bit was geared towards you.

You stand up quickly, drinking some water in hopes that it hides your nerves well. "I'm starving. You got any food?" you ask Jean as you walk towards the kitchen, purposefully walking the long way so that you don't have to go anywhere near him.

"I don't know, you can look," he calls after you, and you can feel Eren's eyes on you as you walk, suddenly feeling very naked in your shorts and cropped tank top.

When you're in the safety of the kitchen and you hear the conversation between the siblings start, you sigh heavily as you rest your head against the counter. Of course, it would be just your fucking luck that he would come back.

You groan softly in frustration as you lift your head up and grab an orange, peeling it a little more aggressively than you should as you hop onto the counter. You huff slightly as you put a slice into your mouth. This is a total wreck in your plans.

To anyone else, it wouldn't seem like a big deal, but your history with Eren isn't the greatest. Maybe starting with the fact that you started to have a crush on him which ended up only blossoming once you got to high school. And the worst part was that everyone knew it. You know they did, but it's not like you were discreet about it.

You were just a naive teenager that was stupid enough to fall? Maybe not fall for him, but you definitely were stupid enough to think that he could possibly be into you.

Your inner turmoil is only fueled when he walks into the kitchen, you failing to notice that the conversation had stopped. You look down at your legs, swinging them as you continue to eat the orange, trying to focus on anything but the suffocating awkward tension in the room.

You can see him lean against the counter across from the one your sitting on, crossing his foot over his ankle. When you find yourself staring at his thighs and how tight his shorts are, you quickly look away. "So, how ya been?" he asks, and you find yourself rolling your eyes at his poor attempt to make small talk.

"Good," you answer, not even looking up, patting a simple rhythm on your thigh, his strong gaze on you making you feel some type of way. "College was fun," you add.

You hear him chuckle softly. "Yeah? Looks like it treated you really good."

You feel your face flush warm as you look up, and you hate your body still reacts the same way it did years back. It's your turn to take him in, and you bite your lip hesitantly, noticing that college treated him very well.

He does more than fill out his clothes, they're practically like a second skin the way they stretch out over his body. Your eyes trail over his inked arms, trying to make out everything that you can see. He's grown his hair out, it's longer now, opting for putting his hair up in a high bun, the silver piercings shining in the light when he turns his head slightly. Your eyes catch the simple gold chain around his neck, and you realize that you've been staring for too long.

"So, what are you doing here?" you ask, and you're genuinely asking because according to Jean, he wasn't supposed to be here, and you thought this summer was going to be smooth sailing.

"A little birdie told me that you were here, so..." he trails off with a shrug, and you squint your eyes at him.

"So, you came back just for me?"

"What if I told you I did?" You scoff as you toss the orange peel in the trashcan, putting the last two slices in your mouth.

"I would tell you," you start, finishing the slices. "That you're ridiculous." He hums as he smiles at you, moving away from the counter, standing in front of you.

"So, what's the deal with you and my brother anyway?" he questions suddenly, and you shake your head slowly.

"You mean like if I like him or something?" You scoff. "He's my best friend, and he's into someone else anyway."

He nods, his eyebrows creasing as he thinks. "Oh, yeah. That Mikasa chick, right? She's kinda hot."

"What do you want, Eren?" Now you're getting annoyed, and you hate how you feel that tiny fire of jealousy burning in your chest at his comment. He moves closer to you, and you don't even realize that your legs spread to fit his frame.

"There's a lot of things I want," he answers, resting his hands dangerously close to your thighs on the counter.

"Is one of those things to annoy the hell out of me?" you joke, and he chuckles as he nods his head.

"Maybe. That's one."

"A lot of people don't get what they want."

You feel your breathing hitch when he leans in closer to you, close enough that you can feel his breath fanning over your face. "I got all summer to get what I want."

You gulp harshly as you find it difficult to tear your eyes away from his. "What is it?" you ask, your voice a lot more airy than you want it to be.

He tilts his head to the side like he's thinking as you try to find a way out of this situation. "It's more of a who than an it," he tells you, and try to slow your breathing which you didn't even realize had picked up. That's how much of an effect he has on you, and you hate it.

"Well, I hope you get who you're looking for," you respond, but he doesn't move when you shift.

"Eren, leave her alone, she doesn't want anything to do with you," Jean yells from the living room, but Eren's eyes never leave yours as he grins.

"I think you beg to differ," he whispers, and you scoff.

"You would be terribly wrong." And it really is hard to lie when your body is screaming the truth.

"I would?" he questions, keeping his voice low, and you glance to your right, seeing that Jean can't see into the kitchen, and you jump when he pulls you into him by your thighs. Your lower half is touching him, and if you move your legs, they'll tighten around his waist, so you don't move. "You're not a very good liar," he says, his lips just in front of yours, so close that if you even lean in a smidge, you'd be kissing him.

"And that means?"

"Getting you right where I want you won't take all summer." Your mouth falls open slightly as your body goes warm all over. You need to get out of here before you do something you shouldn't.

"Eren, what the hell are you doing?" Eren gives you a wink before he moves away from you.

"Nothing, man. Just making small talk." He crosses his arms as he leans back against the counter, and you find yourself glued to your spot before your brain tells you to move, hopping off the counter, not giving him another look as you walk out of the kitchen, feeling his gaze burning into you.

So much for a relaxing summer.

|Masterlist|Chapter 2|

Taglist: CLOSED

#nothing changed #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yaeger x you #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Note

49 and 58 for whatever player you wanna write abt !!

49.“Why are you bleeding?!”

58. “Where have you been?!”

This is also a little violent but not on the level of my other one have fun. This is also inspired by Gilmore Girls (the They Shoot Gilmore’s, Don’t They? episode [the dance marathon])

Happy blurb weekend!

___________________

You hadn’t heard from Michael in a while. Normally, you would be concerned, but you were too preoccupied. You had been out with Nolan for most of the night, exploring the city and just messing around. The two of you had been talking all night, finding a small bookstore near the UPenn campus, showing him all of your favorite books, him telling you about all of his favorite things.

Your boyfriend was so far from your mind, Nolan being the center of your thoughts since you met him. You knew you were starting to like Nolan, but you loved Michael.

“Are you coming up with me?” you ask Nolan once you get to your building.

He shrugs, a smirk on his face. “Yeah, why not.”

He knew you were dating Michael. Nothing would happen. This wasn’t wrong, right?

You open the door to your apartment, the lights already on. “I didn’t leave these on,” you tell Nolan, him getting in front of you in case there was an intruder.

The two of you stalk through your home, praying that you had just forgotten that you left the light on.

“Where have you been?” you hear booming from the kitchen, Michael coming out, looking angry. “Why is he here?” he asks, pointing to Nolan, his hand wrapped up in gauze.

Michael hated Nolan, he hated that the two of you had gotten so close. Nolan and Michael were nearly the same size, you having to get in between the two of them multiple times when Michael tries to instigate something with him, Nolan just egging him on like he would an opponent on the ice.

“We grabbed some food and walked around the city, but why are you bleeding? What happened?” you ask him, turning his bandaged hand over in your own.

He snaps it away, going to grab his coat. “I cut my hand open trying to make the dinner you said you wanted, and had to go to the hospital to get stitches. I called you, and you didn’t answer, because you were out with him. I thought I told you to stay away from him,” he yells.

“Hey, we’re just friends,” Nolan says, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Yeah, Michael, Nolan knows you’re my boyfriend.”

Michael looks between the two of you, his face turning more and more red by the second. “Not anymore.”

“What?” you ask.

“I’m not your boyfriend anymore. I don’t want to be with someone who’s falling for another guy and can’t even be there for their actual boyfriend when he’s in the hospital. It’s so obvious that the two of you are into each other, and now there’s no one in your way.”

“Michael!” you yell, running after him as he storms out of your apartment, the doors of the elevator closing before you can get to him. You were crying, watching him just walk away like that, pounding on the elevator when Nolan comes over to you to bring you back to your apartment.

“He’s a jerk,” is all Nolan can say to you.

“Maybe, but he’s right about us, isn’t he? That there is something between us?” you ask him, looking up at him. He doesn’t answer you, not even looking at you while you sat there crying, professing your feelings for him after he just witnessed your boyfriend dumping you. “Well, I guess he was just right about me, then. That I have feelings for you. But that’s fine, whatever.”

You get up to go to your room to sulk, Nolan’s hand grabbing you before you can. He stands up, wiping a tear from your face with the pad of his thumb. “He was right about both of us.”

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagines #Philadelphia Flyers #philadelphia flyers imagines #flyers #flames #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #blurb weekend

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halfway-happyyy · 4 years

Text

The Autumn Cottage

Happy Saturday friends! Autumn has arrived in full force where I live and I couldn’t be happier about it. To celebrate, I have written a sappy, smutty piece inspired by the current weather and this ask that I received: Can u give us a oneshot about a snuggle fuck w alex in a cozy cottage in the fall?

One of the greater joys in her life had to have been waking up to autumn's fickle fingers trying to desperately to reach her from the comfort of her woolen blanket. She watched, sleepy and bleary-eyed as leaves in shades of crimson and burnt umber drifted past her window in no particular direction. Her fingers roamed over the left side of the bed in search of him. Alexander's silhouette was barely visible through the indigo morning light, though she could make out the prominent line of his nose, and the slight curve of his bottom lip. Unmistakable in the minimal glow of dawn was the familiar glitter in his eyes, the glint that said so much about him and then nothing at all in equal measure.

“Good morning.” She whispered, and even that felt like too mighty of a disturbance in the stillness of their bedroom in the cottage. Though if he minded, he never let it show.

“Good morning yourself, kid.”

She reached the tip of a finger towards him wordlessly and brushed a feather-light touch down the bridge of his nose. Moving lower, she outlined his lips and grinned into the air before her as she felt him smile against her touch. She moved around his face with care, tried to memorize each delicate crease and wrinkle in her wake, tried to commit to memory the aspects that he resented about himself, even if she loved them beyond measure.

“Beautiful,” Alexander murmured as he brought the back her wrist to his lips, kissing the soft flesh there passionately. He brushed the pad of a calloused thumb over the rounded curve of her warmed cheek. “Like watching a flower bloom right before my very eyes.” They stayed like that for longer than either of them cared to admit; she could count on one hand in the past year that she had spent a weekend with him like this- alone and entirely undisturbed from anything and everything. He had broached the subject of a rented cottage in passing one morning a few weeks ago. It was one of those mornings where something had gone awry at every turn, and everything had been a blur. He had been late for something important, that much she could remember. He had rushed around the kitchen in a fury, muted Swedish curse words coloured every second sentence. He was out of breath when he reached the front door, weighed down by his leather laptop bag, but before he left, he turned to her and smiled. “Let’s get away together, kid.” She had taken it with a grain of salt until he returned home that evening, tired from a rather long shooting schedule, but in a fantastic mood all the same. “I mean it. It’s about to be a beautiful autumn. Let’s get away, just the two of us.”

“Shall I make you a coffee, or are we just going to lay in bed and stare at each other all day?” She offered him a cheeky smile and an exaggerated eye-wiggle which he simply laughed at.

“I have half a mind to choose the latter option, but I really do need some caffeine this morning.”

She nodded finitely and leaned in for a kiss, the innate push and pull of it caused a fire to ignite deep within her for him. She could easily spend the rest of her life doing this very thing; loving him fiercely and being loved back just as hard in return. “Alright,” She gasped as she pulled away from the allure of his hot, wet mouth. “Meet me in the kitchen.” She rose from the bed silently and padded over to her suitcase that was propped up on a wicker chair in the corner of the room. She noticed Alexander’s cream Sherpa sweater hanging over the arm of it and she ran a fingertip over the unbelievably soft material.

Alexander must have been watching her because when he spoke, his voice still gravelly from recent sleep, he startled her. “I’d be happy if you wore that, today.”

“You would?” She had been eyeing it ever since he’d brought it home from a shoot a month ago. She longed to wrap it around her frame, the sheer feeling of it luxe and utterly comforting on her bare skin. Especially as the months would inevitably grow colder.

“Watching you wear my clothing does something for me, kid. I love seeing how happy it makes you.”

With a small smile, she lifted the sweater over her head and let it fall into place on her body, the hem of it falling just above her knee. She pulled her hair from the confines of it and let it fall in waves down her back. “How do I look?” She asked.

“Beautiful,” Alexander murmured.

Satisfied with his answer, she made her way down the hardwood-floored hallway to the kitchen. She had thought at first that the silence of the cottage would be too loud; that city life had turned her into a creature who thought she craved noise on a near-constant level. But to her pleasant surprise, it had taken less than twenty-four hours to grow accustomed to it, and she knew now that she would miss it dearly when it was their time to go home. Eliciting a yawn, she stood on tiptoes and tried to remember which cupboard Alexander had hidden the coffee beans. Without warning, a large hand reached up above her head with ease and produced the bag for her with a sly smile. “I’d have found them eventually…” She muttered.

“Oh, I have no doubt of that. But- would you have been able to reach them?”

She shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Cheeky, vertically-adept bastard.”

They made their coffee together in silence. It had been one of the many things that drew him to her in the beginning. Where conversation seemed forced with every prospective partner and lover in the past- everything flowed the way it was supposed to with Alexander. There had never been a need to fill the quiet with empty words and small talk. It was a wonderful change of pace. “You hungry yet, kid?”

She remembered the basket of farm-fresh eggs in the fridge, thought of the loaf of homemade bread next to the coffee machine and her mouth watered tantalizingly. “I could definitely eat.” She watched him move around the kitchen with ease; watched the way his worn sweatpants hung low from the edges of his hips. She watched the way his muscles flexed in the light pouring in through the stained-glass window above the sink. She had always been struck silly by the beauty that this man possessed; but the notion that his soul bested his looks would never cease to leave her in utter awe. “What have you got on the go today?” She asked, a fork full of fluffy scrambled eggs rested in her hand.

Alexander passed a napkin over his lips, swallowed the bite of food in his mouth and shrugged. “Thought I might chop some wood for a fire tonight.”

She could hardly contemplate it now; the thought of watching her man hulk through multiple logs of wood caused her to physically clench her thighs together. “You plan on doing that soon?”

“After breakfast.” He confirmed.

True to his word, after the last dish had been washed and dried and properly put away, he stalked over to the coat hook in the front foyer and threw a sweater over his naked chest. Turning to her, he eyed her up and down and cocked his head to the side; a small smirk pulled at the edges of his lips. “Care to keep me company?”

Reaching for a blanket and the book that she had started yesterday morning, she nodded her head. “Lead the way.”

It was warmer outside than she had originally anticipated, though the autumn wind had picked up a little more voraciously, and she marveled at the falling leaves the same way she had earlier that morning. The sky above her was cloudless and a bright azure blue and she found herself thanking a higher being for the blessings in which she had been given. Opening the book to the page she had last left off on, the sound of an axe ripping through the middle of a log rang out through the clearing and she knew then that she would not be getting any further reading done this morning. Instead, she watched in awe as Alexander lifted the axe high above his head and brought it down with a force she had rarely seen before, the log splitting into two pieces and falling away from the stump. It was poetry in motion, really. Alexander’s hair was the longest she had ever seen it; the sandy blonde tresses were grown out and regularly fell over his eyes but she reveled in it. Of the many years that they had known each other, he had always kept a mostly clean-shaven face but quarantine, and the filming of a particularly brutal Viking revenge drama had rendered him more manlier and distinguished than she had ever thought possible. “You are fulfilling lumberjack fantasies for me that I never knew I had!” She called out to him.

Alexander tossed his head back, a hearty laughter bubbled up from the back of his throat and exited his mouth like music from a box. “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to yourself, kid. I see the way you look at me when I put on my old and holey plaid jacket.” He took a break from chopping wood to wipe the sweat from his brow. “To add to this- you also purchased me a very expensive axe a few years ago for my birthday.”

“Guilty,” She muttered under her breath.

“But rest assured I am elated that this-” He gestured to himself. “Does it for you.”

The morning continued on in much the same fashion until maybe an hour or two later when Alexander joined her from her perch on the wrap-around porch. Falling into a bench opposite her, he took a few moments to try and regain his breath again. Beads of sweat gathered at the base of his forehead and his broad chest heaved under the weight of recent physical duress. They each viewed each other with a hunger usually only attained after seeing one another for the first time in months. “Come here.” He ordered, softly. She rose from her spot without hesitation and sauntered over to where he sat. He pat the front of his thigh twice, a silent instruction for her to have a seat. She straddled his lap with ease and wrapped her arms around his neck; the heady scent of his perspiration and body wash made her lightheaded with want. It took every ounce of self-control not to grind shamelessly down on his steadily growing erection. As he held her tightly to him, his warm, broad hands rubbed reassuring circles into her back. She shivered into the touch as Alexander kissed his way up the side of her neck, his mouth leaving trails of fire in its wake. “You cold, kid?”

“No.”

He kissed his way up the base of her throat, past the jutting outline of her jaw, and finally to her lips. His mouth still tasted faintly of the maple syrup he had poured over his pancakes hours earlier and the urge to devour everything he had to give her was overwhelming. “You like me like this, don’t you?” He smirked. “All sweaty and dirty from working hard and chopping wood for us?”

“Yes.” Her eyes slid shut and her head fell back as he continued kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. All the while his hands roamed greedily over her sweater-clad body, squeezing, and rubbing as they traversed.

“You want me to take you right here, baby girl?” His voice grew gravelly again, though it had nothing to do with sleep this time. “I don’t even have to touch you to know that you’re already soaked for me.” The wind had picked up again and had begun to blow her hair around her face, the cool breeze a welcome reprieve to her heated body. Alexander was fully erect now, his hard cock throbbed tantalizingly at her thigh. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and lifted the hem of the sweater to reveal her panties, and the wet patch that had grown steadily in the crotch of them. Alexander reached for her and slid two fingers past the flimsy material to her soaking folds. Immediately she leaned towards him to tuck her face into the crook of his neck, but he stopped her with a soft click of his tongue. “I want to see your face when you come for me, baby.” He brought a free hand up to caress her cheek, and as he held her, he brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. She parted for him without thought and began to suckle softly at it as his other hand started to delve deeper inside of her. He had perfected a rhythm with her now; one that no matter how many times he had pleasured her, would always be the fastest way to get her unravelling for him.

“More,” She gasped when two fingers just wasn’t enough anymore. Alexander nodded wordlessly, his gaze searching her own. He added a third finger inside of her, the stretch of it almost too much to bear.

“So fucking wet for me, baby.” He groaned, as he began to pump harder into her. He could feel her clench around him, could feel the soft, wet button of pleasure at the tips of his fingers. She sucked harder at his thumb the closer she neared to her orgasm. “You’re going to come for me soon, I can tell…” He murmured as she started to ride his fingers. “And don’t you dare be quiet about it.” He warned.

These words had helped to spur the wave of pleasure building in her belly and she arched her back against his fingers, her nails digging miniscule crescent shapes into the soft skin of his shoulder blades. “Fucking hell, Alex…”

He nodded up at her. “You look so fucking beautiful like this, my queen. That’s a good girl. Come for me,” He then angled his fingers in such a way that he had her screaming his name into the wind before them, her voice raw with unbridled pleasure. She continued to ride his fingers until she came down from her high, dropping her head to rest in the warm comfort of his neck. She couldn’t be sure how long she had taken solace there, but he eventually patted her bottom. “You came so good for me.” He pressed warm, wet kisses against her temple.

Taking his chin firmly in her grasp, she gazed at him. Unending vast oceans of blue peered back at her and took her breath away. “It’s your turn.” She crashed her lips against his again, the need to have him inside of her entirely all-consuming. He lifted her up in one fell swoop, standing tall from the bench as she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep from falling. He carried her into the warmth of the cottage, stumbling down the length of the hallway to their bedroom where he laid her as gently as he could manage, on the bed. He made impressively quick time of ridding himself of his clothing, and as he stood before her, naked and unbearably erect, she realized that she genuinely loved the man before her. It had occurred to her before that she felt this way, but she could honestly say that no matter what they would go through together, no matter the pain he would put her through in future, she loved him deeper than she had ever loved anyone before. “Come here,” She insisted.

Alexander crawled up the length of the bed, holding her head in his hands as he did so. He entered her all-consuming heat with a loud groan, the feeling of him stretching her to maximum fullness was incomparable to any pleasure she had experienced before. Having him inside of her was a comfort that she never knew she needed until it had happened. As he moved inside of her, his head dropped to her shoulder where he scattered dozens of open-mouthed kisses to the skin there. She held him tightly to her as he bucked his hips against her, his cock managing to hit all of the essential nerves each time he bottomed out. He was muttering nonsensical things now, random pieces of Swedish and English found her ears and she smiled into their embrace. She clenched around him after every other thrust, and soon his movements had grown sloppy. “Fuck,” He growled as her fingernails raked through the soft, firm skin of his broad back.

“You feel so fucking good, Alex.” She gasped against his bearded cheek.

He cried out as his hips stilled against her own and she could feel the familiar throb of his cock as he spilled everything he had to give, inside of her. He allowed himself a few more powerless thrusts, and another low whimper before he pulled out of her completely. She found his sudden absence almost painful. They remained like that for an unknowable amount of time, each just trying to catch the breath that they had lost a while ago. Eventually Alexander turned on his side to view her, bringing the back of her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. “I love you, kid.”

A crimson leaf lay next to his head on the down pillow, and she smiled softly to herself. “I love you too, Alex.”

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard oneshot #smut #writing #drabble

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blxetsi · 4 years

Text

peach scone - levi ackerman (modern au)

levi ackerman x gn!reader, levi ackerman x erwin smith

warnings: ooc levi, angst, songfic, lowercase intended !

reposted due to errors

you’re a peach scone.

it used to be a term of endearment. something that he would say to make your tummy fill with little creatures. the butterflies would bump into your sides, causing you to feel sort of ticklish in your abdomen, while the little caterpillars and slugs would crawl around your torso, sending shivers down your spine. levi would always say it after you did something he enjoyed, like if you helped him on his assignment, or if you gave him really good advice. he would always utter those four words to you as gratitude. never loud enough for others to hear, because those words were always meant for you.

you shook those thoughts from your head, you couldn’t be thinking about such bittersweet memories minutes before you were set to perform. currently, you’re preparing to perform in front of you music teacher, it’s your final assignment before your exam and it counts for 15% of your mark. you’ve entrusted your two friends, derek and kate, to assist you, derek playing guitar and kate on drums, both performing the melody you created for your song. you stand behind the curtains of the auditorium, behind stage, kate is already out there, sitting perfectly still in front of a single drum, one drumstick in each hand. she’s more prepared than you are, which should worry you because this is your project, but you can’t really feel your fingers if you’re being honest. derek stays behind with you, almost protecting you from your teacher who sits in the audience waiting. your eyes run over the lyrics you wrote, that you wrote, over and over again, worried you’ll forget them. if you weren’t so anxious you’d find it funny, forgetting the words to your own song. a song you wrote of a horrible situation you can never escape. you know the predicament you’re in all too well, yet you’re standing behind the curtains next to the fire escape, the lanky boy beside you tuning his instrument at the last minute.

you couldn't remember the last time you played something in front of him. you could remember different memories, like from christmas or halloween, but when was the most recent time ? when was the last time you saw him anyways ? blurs of different memories, all similar in some ways. you with a guitar, your friends gathered around. sometimes they'd be sober, others not. but the constant was always levi. he was always there beside you. every time you felt nervous to play something, even if it was a silly song that hange recommended just for laughs, levi would always tell you the same thing. four words that made your irrational fears melt away. "c'mon y/n, do it for me. you're my peach scone."

you remember telling moblit about the project, who then passed the comment off to hange, who so begged you to let the two come and watch. you knew the biology major meant well, but you also knew that they had a tendency to be very inclusive. if you had written about absolutely anything else, other than your feelings for a man that you knew didn’t love you back, you’d let your entire friend group come. your teacher was a kind man, and old, but you knew he’d be fine with some friend’s watching. you were nervous not because you had to tell a man who was way too old to be getting into a college student’s messy love life about your own problems, but because the cause of your messiness could possibly be attending.

hange’s last message to you was nerve wracking. the “just got finished at the coffee bean with levi and erwin, heading your way now !” could allude to the idea that hange had invited erwin and levi to see you perform a song you wrote about how you love levi but he’s dating erwin. your multiple text messages of “hange don't let them come.” and “hange please just let it be you and moblit like we agreed.” hadn't been opened.

you heard the auditorium doors open, before hearing the shuffle of feet and hushed voices. your paper with the lyrics fell out of your hands, and you merely gave a frightening look to the boy beside you, before your teacher broke the silence.

“y/n, if you were waiting for your friends they’re here now. old bob isn’t getting any younger so let’s speed this up.”

you’d chuckle at the man’s humor if you weren’t so afraid.

the lights blinded you as you walked out on stage, derek trailing behind you. you three were positioned near the edge of the stage, so the practically nonexistent audience could have a good look at you. you stood in the middle, making sure your mic was working before making sure the mic positioned near derek’s guitar was on. the three of you chatted for a couple of seconds while derek started playing, and as you looked up, you could clearly see the silhouettes of your friends as they sat in the back. from left to right it was levi, erwin, hange and moblit. you threw your head back with an “oh no !” into the mic, while kate slapped you on your back for confidence.

“what’s up bob ? god man, i’m y/n, this is derek and kate, and we’re just kids who like to make a little bit of love, make a little bit of music, look at this we’re on a desk, just kidding its a stage, i don’t care about the rules.”

there was no going back now. you were going to potentially ruin your relationships with not just levi and erwin but with everyone else.

it was time for you to begin the introduction to your story.

hi, what’s your name ? how are you ? how’s your life ?

you remember when you first met levi. it was your first year of high school, just four months after your beloved grandmother had passed, and he had just moved into your apartment building along with his mother and uncle. you had heard them moving back and forth down the hall all morning, and you were curious because, who would be making so much noise at 6:30am on a friday morning ? the school year had just begun, with you only having a month of the high school experience under your belt. you remember your mother making you leave a bit early, wanting to meet the new tenants moving in across the hall. you remember standing in the blank room of a living space, the whole apartment was a mirror image of your own, just empty and bland. everything that your mom said to a woman named kuchel bounced off the walls, echoing and travelling to different parts of the home.

then you saw him. he was about your height, and looked similar to the nice lady kuchel. you remember him just staring at you with the most passive look on his face, while you extended your hand to him, asking for his name.

he shook it, of course, his mother didn’t raise him to be rude, and while you wanted to learn more about him, to be friendly, your mother had quickly gasped before trying to usher you out of the new home, saying how you two would be late for the city bus.

as goodbyes were exchanged between the two mothers, your own invited the family over for dinner on the weekend. and while your mother pulled you out of the threshold, you made eye contact with levi, promising to make him some peach scones.

oh, you got a man ? are you in love ? if so, what type ?

you remember this day very clearly. it was the very last day of the holidays, a sunday before school went back into session. levi had asked you to accompany him to the coffee bean, which was a cafe near campus. it was usually always busy, with students meeting there to hang out or study. they had a selection of scones too, and levi would always refuse your suggestion to get one, saying that “they’ll never be as good as yours.”

today was a weird day. usually he would get so pissy if you asked him to pay for your order, yet he wordlessly did with no protests, even going as far to shush you when you asked him why he did that. so you two sat in the cafe, your coats and hats resting over the back of your chairs, as you sat across from one another watching the snowfall.

he was the first to bring it up. “y/n i have something to tell you.”

and then he went onto explain how he and erwin have been getting closer these past few weeks, oh you remember erwin right ? from my business class ? then he explained how hange had given him a push of encouragement to shoot his shot with the blond. levi was a stoic man, but you’d known him long enough to understand that the grip on his mug wasn’t normal, nor was the furrow in his brow that seemed just a little too hard for his flawless face. “so uh, we’re together now, i guess.” he finished off.

you couldn’t do anything but nod, bringing your own mug up to your lips, sipping the almost scalding hot beverage without care. why couldn’t hange given you a little more time ? well hange never knew of your crush on levi, dipshit.

it was as if levi could sense your uneasiness with the situation, before he sighed. “look, i’m not looking for your approval, and quite frankly i don’t even know why i felt the need to tell you so... intimately. but i thought you’d want to know first, and i’ve known you long enough to be at the point where i want you to be the first to know these things.”

that made your heart ache more. you felt good knowing levi trusted you so much to tell you, but you felt sad knowing he saw you as a friend in this situation, although it’s your fault for waiting so long.

you looked up at him with a smile, you felt like your eyes were a bit more moist than usual, but if levi noticed the glossy tone to your eyes, and how they looked just a bit more red, he didn’t comment on it. so you grabbed his hand, squeezed it, and told him how happy you were for him and erwin.

and after that, you two went on business as usual, before levi walked you back to your home, holding onto your arm to keep you from slipping on the ice.

you had never felt so protected yet so selfishly betrayed in your life.

“we should go get a cup of coffee,” at the coffee bean .

“and i’ll act friendly,” even though you’re falling apart.

you kept going with the song, trying your best to look at the man staring directly at you, who was grading this. yet you couldn’t help but flick your eyes up to the group sitting a couple rows higher, to levi. by now everyone should’ve noticed how watery your eyes were becoming, as well as how your voice would crack every so often. you were breaking, you were stressed out and scared, but the show must go on.

“and i won’t pull any stunts but i’m a fucking stunt puller from birth.” your mother had said that way too many times to you for levi not to know what it meant. your song was filled with memories, inside jokes, emotions and love and heartbreak, too much of all of it for levi to not figure out it’s about him, and if he doesn’t he’s lying to himself.

you looked up at levi, his back was straight against the seat he occupied, his left hand holding erwin’s right. “so i don’t know what to tell you, if i try to confess my love for...” you saw levi lean in just the slightest. “scones !”

he knew. he knew, and you knew that he knew and he just told you he knew that he knows what your song is about when he let go of erwin’s hand, in favor of leaning in with his elbows on his knees. “i just want to say something real quick please shh,” your eyes never left levi’s and he stared at you with a look in his eyes that said “go ahead, say it.” so you did. “i love... these scones.” he pulled back abruptly, almost like he was pissed that you said you loved scones instead of him.

your eyes flicked back to bob as he jotted something down on a piece of paper. “just the diversity between the selection they have here, the blueberry, raspberry, strawberry, pumpkin.”

which is basically a fucking squash, how are you gonna make a scone out of a fucking squash ?

you, along with a drunk levi and hange sat in the coffee bean with moblit, who was the only sober one tonight. you four had gone out drinking with your other friends, but split up for the night after you and hange had forced the two men to come with you two to the cafe, claiming that caffeine would help sober you up.

it was a rare thing seeing levi drunk, and hange made sure to take as many pictures and videos without getting caught by the raven haired man. some students were sitting in the establishment, textbooks and papers strewn around them as they studied and researched at 2:47am.

hange had pulled out their camera beside you, the two of you watching levi has he ranted about how shitty the scones were here. “how are you gonna make a scone out of a fucking squash ?” he asked, shoving his face into his hands moments later. hange stopped the recording in fear of getting caught, before sending it to the groupchat with all of your friends, showing the 23 second long video of levi’s rage for scones.

“what’s wrong with the scones levi ?” you teased, leaning into him from across the table.

he only muttered one thing. “they aren’t like your scones, y/n.” before he played footsies with you underneath the table.

you whispered a promise to make more for him, but now as you stand on that stage, you can’t remember if you had kept it. the squash thing was an inside joke between your friend group, hange and moblit are smart enough to be catching on now, and you suspect that the only person that might not know is erwin. no, you’d be lucky if he was oblivious, if you staring at levi had given anything away (which it most certainly has) the blond should be catching up soon.

you turned to your left, derek playing your “levi” as you sang to him “oh yeah you boyfriend made you mad the other day ? what was he saying what was he talking about ?” you sighed dramatically and rolled your eyes, never once turning your body or head away from derek. “oh what do i think ? let me think about it hm.”

you sat in hange’s living room, levi squished in between the biology major and yourself, while he ranted about a fight he got into with erwin about something as silly as dish placements.

you and the brunette laughed it off, while levi grumbled about how you shouldn’t be laughing even if it doesn’t seem that big of a deal. you reminded yourself that this was levi’s first relationship and quickly felt a bit of sympathy. you placed a hand on his shoulder, and he leaned into your touch slightly, before saying some words of encouragement. “oh levi, i’m sure he’s gonna turn around at some point.”

after the second chorus, you looked to your right, kate playing your erwin. the difference in this was that your body stayed forward, you wanted to portray to the audience that you were less engaged in your conversation with kate compared to derek. you didn’t want to listen to erwin, but you would willingly put all your attention into what levi would say, no matter what it was.

“yeah he told me a lot about you, yeah, uh huh.” you couldn’t help your voice breaking as tears finally streamed down your face. you were honestly surprised you could keep yourself composed for this long. you wouldn’t be able to stop the tears, and you were in too deep now to quit. you were jeopardizing everything, and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. kate looked at you with worry in your eyes as you let out a sob away from the mic, before continuing.

“it’s so great that you’re doing all of those things, and you should keep doing them... i think.” you immediately turned your head back to your instructor, who started to look at you with worry too.

“yeah my name is y/n l/n ! i’m a writer i’m actually not a writer i like to call myself a musician,” you smiled through your tears as you tried to keep it together, but even you knew that you were way past that now. “i play guitar sometimes just not as good as derek.” before going back into your script of your memories with erwin smith.

you looked back at kate while you said your next lines, tears streaming down your face while she gave you a pitiful stare. before finally, looking back up to the man who had looked down on you this entire performance, and confessing your love for him in the way you knew he’d understand.

“but he, y’know he's just so sweet and he cared about me a lot when no one else did.”

“hey y/n, why do you make those peach scones so often ?” levi sat on your bed in front of you, identical textbooks sat in front of you both as you studied. it had been over a year since you’d met him, and you knew that he was your closest friend.

“because my grandma used to make them for me, and she gave me her recipe before she died. i just love her and her scones so much, and they make me happy, so i guess i make them to share with others so they can be happy too.”

the young boy who sat criss crossed in front of you merely rotated his head slightly, before nodding. “okay y/n. you’re my peach scone then.”

you were too dense to understand what he had meant by that, until your senior year of high school when you finally realized that the feelings you had for levi weren’t strictly platonic anymore. in that seemingly miniscule confession he made to you, he admitted his love for you, and that you made him happy.

“and i think that’s really nice because he’s a peach.” levi’s eyes widened, he knew what you were going to say. “he’s a peach scone.”

“he’s my peach scone.”

you broke down before you could finish the song, and before you knew it your legs were carrying you out of the auditorium and down to the gender neutral restroom, the closest to the stage. kate followed you, knowing you’d need some comfort, while derek stayed, trying to play it off to your professor like that was the end of the song, and that you’re just a fantastic performer.

and while hange and moblit discussed whether they should wait for you outside or just give you space, levi felt a part of his world crumble down. he got your message clearly, you loved him, and he did too, but he also liked erwin, and now levi sat in the dark theater, listening to his own boyfriend worry about you, while the raven haired man silently contemplated the pros and cons of leaving the blond for you.

but you both knew he would never do that.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman oneshot #levi x gn!reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #hange zoe #hange zoë #erwin smith #levi ackerman x erwin smith #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin x reader

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the-hopeless-haze · 4 years

Text

Somebody Sit in My Chair and Ruin My Sleep (Being Alive Ch 15)

A/N: Idk how I feel about this chapter but here u go I guess lol

Previous Chapter

content warnings: implied smut

WC: 1.9k

Rafael didn’t have any idea what he was walking into on Monday morning, but Jesus Christ, the fact that you let the squad know what happened - down to the very last detail, it seemed - was a horror show. Amanda avoids him in some show of female solidarity, Nick shoots him sympathetic looks, and Sonny - fucking Sonny asks Rafael how he is and won’t stop asking how you were, if he’d heard from you.

But why should he expect mercy from the woman who turned down his proposal?

And maybe he deserved it. Maybe he should’ve tried to read the room instead of just pushing forward. You had been right - that night certainly wasn’t the prime time for a proposal in the slightest. Hindsight is always 20/20, and he keeps remembering moments where you were slipping away inch by inch like sand past his fingertips, and he can’t believe how stupid he was that he chose to swallow it down and chalk it up as nothing instead of sitting down and actually talking to you.

Still, communication is a two way street, and instead of sending him vague signals that he was too obtuse to decipher, you could’ve sat down and talked to him too.

It’s so much easier to assign blame than take it, isn’t it?

Ultimately, though, he just couldn’t believe you weren’t on the same page as him. Didn’t you always say you wanted all these things? Weren’t you happy that Rafael finally felt he was ready, too? Perhaps though, in the midst of all his internal turmoil he truly forgot to assess your feelings on the matter. Yes, you said you wanted children, yes, your parents constantly threw comments his way about settling down with you, and yes, you’d told him on multiple occasions he wasn’t too old to get married if that’s truly what he wanted.

But where was your actual opinion on marrying him in any of this? It was lost in between the need you no doubt felt to constantly comfort Rafael about his current misgivings and past misfortunes and your parents’ well-meaning but busy-bodied comments. It was clouded by Rafael’s own mother’s opinions, and hell, even Sonny’s - everyone was so afraid Rafael was going to lose you that they pressured him into offering you a ring and a promise of forever - but little did anyone know that by doing just that... he had in fact lost you anyway.

His mother was devastated, weeping about how you would’ve made such a lovely bride, how she was already looking at suits for Rafael and venues for the wedding... he couldn’t handle it and left her apartment after ten minutes of her lamentation. He should’ve never told her, he should’ve never been so sure of what was going on in your head, because now he realizes he never had any idea. No one did.

So now, he snaps at Sonny, because Sonny is guilty by way of telling him “oh sure, she’ll say yes” like anyone knew what the fuck you would do when the question was finally asked. Maybe you didn’t even know until he was down on one knee. Still, Rafael can’t help wondering if things would be different if the car accident never happened - deep down, he knows there were signs you were pulling away after Thanksgiving, but it’s so much easier to blame Sonny for it. You wouldn’t have sunk so low in a deep depression if you could’ve worked, if you weren’t immobilized by your injury... but would you have loved Rafael enough anyway?

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Rafael hisses at the younger detective. “You’ve been talking my ear off all morning.”

“Whoa, Barba, wake up on the wrong side of the bed today or what? I was just getting you up to speed on the case—“

“I’ve read the file. You don’t need to.”

“Fine. Liv’s in her office but I suggest cooling the attitude, because she’s not in a good mood either. Noah was sick and kept her up all night.”

“Lovely.”

And then, by some sick twist of fate, you walk through the door, and Rafael’s stomach turns. Never did you look so gorgeous, so beautiful, so fucking untouchable than you did now. It’s the first time in weeks he’s seen you in a blazer and slacks, the first time he’s seen you look like you gave a shit in months. And maybe that’s unfair - you were struggling, per your own admission - but it almost feels like all you had to do was lose the weight of Rafael and all his baggage that came with being in a relationship with him, and you were good as new.

He wonders how many of his exes could tell a similar story to yours, if that were truly the case.

You meet his eyes for a split second and he wants to drop dead. You give him a haughty smirk and head over to Amanda’s desk, turning your back to him.

Why couldn’t you just fucking leave like you’d said you would? It’d be so much easier if you did just go back home but like everything else that came out of your mouth that was merely a half baked promise you had no intention of making good on.

And maybe Rafael should’ve called you this weekend, but he couldn’t swallow his pride and come back to you with his tail between his legs after you rejected the proposal he’d worked all his life to be able to give. You never called him either, but if this was going to go anywhere, someone would have to talk first.

But shouldn’t it have to be you? You’re the one who asked for space. He’s giving it. What the fuck else was he supposed to do?

But now that you’re not living with him, now that you’re not even with him at all, you’re completely unpredictable. Never in his wildest dreams did he think you’d come over to him and Sonny, flash him your best sardonic lipglossed smile, and ask to borrow Sonny for a moment.

Rafael can’t even think straight, he can barely breathe, the rage coming up like bile and tightening his throat. How could you stand there and act like nothing was different now?

“Sure,” he snaps.

“Whoa, no need for the attitude, Rafael,” you say sweetly. “We can all play nice, right?”

Rafael doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything… he just shakes his head and walks to Olivia’s office. How could you compartmentalize like that, he’d love to know. Wasn’t this killing you, too?

The rest of the day proves to go by smoother, thankfully, albeit minor annoyances that come up like a snippy altercation with Olivia due to both of their bad moods and a taxi driver haggling him about the fare. Rafael still cannot wait to come back to his office and savor his fourth cup of coffee today after running around the city all morning, put his feet up and do some paperwork…

But you’re there, in his chair, with your feet up on his desk.

“Get out,” Rafael says before you can utter a word.

“I want to talk,” you say innocently.

“I don’t. Get out. Who the hell let you in here?”

“Carmen, duh. She still thinks we’re together, apparently.”

“Do I have to call security?”

You stare at him blankly. “You’d really call security?”

Rafael rolls his eyes, throws his briefcase on a nearby chair. “What the hell do you want?”

“Where do we go from here?”

“Nowhere. You ended it.”

“Okay, no, I just said I needed space. I didn’t end it--”

“Right. I need to work.”

“Okay. We’ll meet later then,” you nod, standing up.

“I didn’t agree--”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. I got to head back to the precinct in fifteen minutes anyway.”

Rafael hates doing this, showing a moment of vulnerability, but he has to ask, “Are you staying? In New York, I mean.”

“For now,” you say, softening too. “Obviously. I talked to Liv for a long time, talked to my dad.. And… I don’t know if being back home is the best course for me either. I’m just trying to get back to some semblance of normal, you know?”

“Right.”

“I’ll see you,” you say, walking past him and leaving his office.

How many years would it be before he did figure you out?

------

The two of you don’t really talk much at first when you reunite later on that evening. Rafael draws the shades in his office, and it’s all pulling at clothes, at skin, at hair and you’re not proud of it but you also don’t really regret that you let it get that far. You missed him, in an annoyingly cloying way, and what was better than makeup sex when the two of you were still pissed off at each other?

“You need…. You need to go to therapy,” Rafael pants after coming down from his high.

You have to laugh at that. Maybe that was only the 7th most offensive thing someone had said to you after sex. And, annoyingly, he was right, even if his delivery and timing could’ve been light years better.

“Mm. I know,” you tell him, pulling him in to kiss him again, his sweaty chest sticking to your back as you pull off him to lay, or rather squeeze next to him on the couch.

“You need to--”

“Let’s not get into the shit I need to do right now, okay? I know I have things to sort out. So do you.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I’m trying to help, and I’m trying to understand, but--”

“Right now… don’t. Just fuck me like that again.”

Rafael chuckles - damn, it was only two days and you missed his laugh that much? It just tugs on your heartstrings in the worst way, but you suppose it proves how much you love him, how you couldn’t just put this down. You hated being the first to let your guard down, to bring yourself to his office not once but twice… but you couldn’t bear to lose him, either, and you’d hurt him where no one else had. It had to be you who offered a new start.

“I need to eat, mujer. And as tempting as that sounds… we need a change in location anyway.”

You nod in assent. “Fine.”

Neither of you get much sleep that night, as you split a bottle of wine and a pizza and talk, cry, fuck, whatever… but it’s a long sleepless night you wouldn’t have traded for the world. Things are different between you two, naturally, but something has to be shed to grow, and maybe you left some good things behind along with the bad things, but it’s how these things go. You can’t expect a relationship to be standing firm after a rejected proposal. For the moment, you’re just happy the two of you found a way to get back up.

As you curl into Rafael’s arms at four in the morning, you don’t feel at peace - lord knows you still have so many things to worry about - but you do feel better, and if that’s all you can get right now, you had to be okay with that.

Taglist (ask if you wanted to be added!) @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105 @blackeyedangel9805 @moon-river-drifter @the-baby-bookworm @dianilaws @xecq @lv7867 @teddybluesclues @averyhotchner @houseofthirst @stardust-fray

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #barba x reader #barba #Law & Order SVU #SVU fanfiction #rafael barba x you #barba x you

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ttttaehyungie · 4 years

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sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 3

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 3.9k

chapter rating | PG-13

warnings | none

a/n | here we gooooo!! part threeeee c: can’t believe I actually churned this out when my life has been in c h a o s also this is barely edited im so sorry

Percussive knocks rap crisply on your apartment door. You fling the door open and your heart leaps in your chest at the sight. There he stands.

Up and rising dance instructor. Groove personified. Ball of literal sunshine.

And in your experience, the best big brother on the planet.

The overnight bag hits the wooden floor with a hollow thud as he abandons it in favor of yanking you into a tight embrace. A grin widens on your face that you're certain mirrors his.

"Hoseok," you breathe into his chest, your face smushed against his oversized yellow shirt. The enveloping warmth of his arms around you has you melting. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you more. Let me take a good look at you." He puts you at arm's length. "You've grown so much in the time we've been apart."

"Hoseok." You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face doesn’t falter. "It's only been a month."

"Hey. A lot happens in a month."

The truth of his words, unknown to him but oddly relevant nonetheless, has you biting your lip before you can stop yourself.

"Here, I'll help you with your bag," you say, hauling the duffel bag off the ground, giving you something else to look at. You can only hope that Hoseok hasn't already picked up on the nervous blips. "It's been a long ride for you."

"And they say chivalry is dead," he jokes, but follows after you without further comment. Guess you're in the clear.

But you steer the conversation to a topic that you know will engross him for sure. Y’know. Just in case.

"So, what classes did you sign up for this weekend?" you ask over your shoulder, managing a tone so casual that you celebrate internally.

"You'll never believe it.” The words come tumbling out, voice shimmering with excitement. Even without turning to look at him, you can picture the way his eyes are surely set alight. You know this tone, and it has you hooked now, the anticipation of amazing news builds in your chest. "Y'know that choreographer, Jo? The one that's completely booked out every single weekend?”

You nod quickly, turning to look at him with wide eyes.

“Well.” The smugness in his tone is thick. “Guess who got a slot for her class!”

Genuine surprise elicits a gasp from you. "No way! How'd you even manage that?"

"Hard work and sheer determination.” A fist pump punctuates his words. “I camped on the booking site on multiple devices with multiple accounts so I could snag a spot the moment the slots open."

You snort at his antics.

"I can't believe I'm going to be learning from such a giant in the industry," he says, unable to resist breaking into a little dance as he pushes the door to the study cum guest room open. "It feels like I've won the freaking lottery."

The effervescent excitement is uncontainable. Even the task of unpacking can’t interrupt his rave about the choreographer who shot to cyber fame with her fluid movements. You let him let it loose, leaning against the doorway, watching him.

"Ok," he says, putting his hands on his hips. "That's enough about me. How did your lecture go today?"

The breath catches in your lungs, the shock of seeing Namjoon coming back in a second wave.

“It was alright,” you attempt to mask it in the same casual tone you mustered up just minutes ago. But there’s an unmistakable tightness to your words.

Hoseok’s eyes bore into you. Damn. There’s no escaping now.

“____?” he probes, his tone laced with the same concern lying in his gaze.

"Hey, um," you rub at your arms, "we have an unexpected dinner guest tonight. Is that ok with you?"

“____,” he repeats, firmer this time. “What happened?"

You exhale heavily, grounding yourself with the feel of the carpet underneath your scrunched up toes as you tell him, "I bumped into Joon today. At the lecture."

Chancing a glance at him to gauge his reaction, you watch as he schools his features into an expressionless mask. But his eyes widen by just a fraction, betraying his surprise as he processes the information.

After a second, he nods stiffly, and turns back to the duffel bag on the bed to take the last of his belongings out. His tone is measured and even as he asks, "How was it?"

The plush mattress provides you marginal comfort as you plop onto the bed next to him.

"Honestly? Like a punch in the gut." The laugh that escapes you is bitter. "When will I stop being winded just by the mere sight of him, Hobi?"

The smile he shoots you is empathetic but sad. He reaches over to muss up your hair, the action tender and fond. "It'll happen in time," he promises.

The restrictive tightness in your chest is uncomfortable and you attempt to expel it in a sigh as you lean backwards, propped up by the elbow. Staring at your toes as if they’re a source of endless fascination gives you an excuse not to look your brother in the eye.

“But would you care to explain what convinced you to invite him to dinner?”

“Hobi… I just…” Your back hits the mattress as you flop back entirely, groaning up at the ceiling. No choice but to spit the truth out now. “His eyes, they just do things to me.”

Craning your neck to look at him, regret hits you when you catch sight of his frown. You drop your head back down. The ceiling's a much better option to look at.

“You have a soft spot for him.” It’s less a question and more a statement. A statement that you assent to with a strangled noise.

“Look. I get it. It’s just, I worry for you. The state you were in when you came back that night…” This time, he lets out a sigh of his own. The bed shifts, accommodating his weight where he takes a seat next to you. "You were a wreck, ____.” He shakes his head, his brow furrowed. “I don't want to have to relive those days.”

He’s not speaking out of turn. Guilt gnaws at you and you turn your head to face the wall. Bringing Namjoon back into your life implicated Hoseok too. Your brokenness had not been yours to bear alone. On the nights when you felt like you were falling apart, it was your brother who’d held you as you sobbed damp spot after damp spot into his t-shirts.

“Do you think it's too soon?” Your voice sounds small even in your ears. “Even though it's been years?”

“I can’t answer that for you, ____.”

You remain quiet, still staring at the blank wall.

“Well." He slaps his hands on his thighs and hauls himself off the bed, breaking the silence. "I owe him a long overdue meet-up anyway. He's been bugging me to have a meal together with him for the longest time now- which is next to impossible, y’know, with the way the studio just keeps getting busier and busier.”

A hand enters your field of vision, outstretched and waiting. "Dinner?"

You grasp it and he pulls you up. His grip is a firm anchor, both physically and emotionally.

"Dinner," you echo. "I can do this."

You can’t do this.

Whatever idealism you had possessed an hour ago within the safe confines of your apartment was gone now, mellowed out and boiled down to unforgiving reality.

At least you have Hoseok.

Despite your earlier hesitation to tell your brother about the events that had transpired through the day, you're now relieved you did and infinitely thankful for his presence. If any iciness remains from whatever lingering unsaid tension that exists between you and Namjoon, it quickly melts away under the warmth that is Hoseok's affability.

It was awkward at first, no doubt. As you slid into the booth to sit across Namjoon, it definitely didn’t escape your attention how he was unable to keep eye contact with you, his shifty eyes stoking the nervousness that simmered in the pit of your stomach.

The conversation had been polite but stiff, filled with small talk about each other’s jobs. As if you didn’t already know all about how he’d made it as a published author from all the times you eavesdropped on Hobi’s phone calls. He was in the middle of narrating his book’s main plot when your mind’s eye jumped, involuntarily, to the books guiltily buried away in the corner of your closet underneath a bunch of t-shirts. It was an impulse buy, you lie to yourself.

Yes, you’ve read his books. Multiple times. Pored over every word and analyzed every character in search of snippets of yourself. Hoping to know whether he’s forgotten you and moved on from you or whether he’s still affected by the breakup in the same way you don’t dare to admit that you are.

But that’s just in your times of weakness. Everyone has those, you reason, and you’re allowed to too.

Make no mistake- you did get over Namjoon. The box of letters sits in your desk drawer as the fruits of that. There’s a reason why you can’t bring yourself to dump those letters out after all these years. They’re unfiltered and ugly and raw, but they’re an archive of the journey you went through. You’re over it.

Or you were over it. Being in this city and seeing him triggers something in you and seems to throw you back a couple of steps somehow.

Maneuvering your way through the exchange, carefully feigning ignorance about the plot of his novels, you were walking a tightrope. But thankfully, before you could get caught in your self-spun web of lies, the conversation takes a sharp left.

In a sudden outburst of, “Why are we speaking as if we’re at some corporate networking event?!” accompanied by a smack on the table, Hoseok shattered the cordial but fake and, frankly, uncomfortable atmosphere that had settled over the booth. The three of you broke into genuine laughter for the first time in the evening. And finally, the dinner conversation took a more casual and informal turn.

In spite of your wariness, the pull that Hoseok’s words exerted was irresistible and you found yourself gradually loosening up. It began with unbidden smiles that progressed to quiet giggles- not unlike the one that followed Hoseok’s earlier outburst- that quickly gave way to carefree and unfiltered laughter.

And now?

"Remember when you broke the swingset at our house?" Hoseok jabs his fork at Namjoon who sits across from him at the table.

"That was not on me,” he quips. “That swingset was rickety before I sat on it."

Your throat constricts around your food slightly painfully with the way you gulp down your food to interject, "No way, Joon. We only had that swingset for two weeks before you broke it."

Hoseok nods in corroboration, his features colored in a grave seriousness. “She’s right. I remember my joy on that swingset being extremely short-lived.”

"Can't believe you care more about that swingset than me." Namjoon pouts. "My butt was bruised for at least a week from that accident."

But Hoseok dismisses this with a wave of his hand. "Bruises heal. Swingsets don't."

You smile around the rim of your glass, taking a swig. Cheeks sore with how much you’ve been smiling, you think, you really can’t do this.

You've missed this. You’ve missed the days filled with this innocent and untroubled feeling of happiness. When it was just this pair of best friends and you were the little sister that just tagged along at first, but got pulled in as a real member of the trio. You were the little sister that Hobi adored, and the little sister that Joon had always wished he'd had, and you looked up to both of them so much.

The playful teasing between mouthfuls of food and the easy laughter shared as all three of you let loose over a couple drinks has you warming up in a way that's not just from the alcohol.

You’ve missed this. But you can’t.

You glance upwards and the softness in Namjoon’s eyes all crinkled up by his beaming smile has you realizing just how much you’ve missed him. But you can’t, you can’t, you ca-

Next to you, Hoseok’s movements interrupt your internal self-admonishment. He sets his utensils down with a clang on his empty plate. "Hey, I’ll go pick up the bill."

"Let me." Namjoon fumbles for his wallet as he gets on his feet. But Hoseok puts a hand on his shoulder to sit him back down.

"Nah man, you paid the last time and I've been meaning to give ____ a treat too. This one's on me."

Hoseok disappears off to settle the bill, leaving just you and Namjoon. In stark contrast to his earlier inability to maintain eye contact, he’s now staring intently at you. The intensity of his gaze has your cheeks growing warm.

It’s your turn to struggle with eye contact. Unsure what to do with your hands or where to look, you're just about to succumb to the urge to start fidgeting when Namjoon sighs, inciting a stolen glance at him. His gaze is on his hands now where they sit on the table, a gentle smile gracing his features.

"I've missed this,” he says softly.

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

"Me too," you admit. You’re weak.

His gaze darts back upwards to look you in the eyes, and your heart rate picks up.

“I've missed you.”

It’s shy. It’s barely audible. But you catch it. It startles your heart into a racing pulse, pounding in your ribcage.

"Namjoon.” You don’t miss the way his face falls slightly at how you revert to his full name. “You can't-"

He leans forward as he shakes his head. "I'm not... I..." He cuts himself off with a huff of frustration. His long fingers tap rapidly on the table the way they always do when he’s collecting his thoughts.

"I'm really sorry for what happened, ____.” His eyes bore into yours with a pleading sincerity that has your hands fidgeting under the table and out of sight. “I'm really sorry that things ended the way they did. And I know I don't deserve to be asking this, ____. But I've really missed... all this." He gestures to the booth, to your trio. "And I guess what I'm asking is, will you forgive me? And... will it be okay to see you again? Just as friends. Nothing more."

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

You fold your hands in your lap, still hidden away from sight so he can’t see the nervous energy they exude as you deliberate your next words carefully.

"Joon, you really hurt me the last time. Really deeply.” The temptation to avert your gaze is immense, but you power through. But that leaves you to witness the flicker of guilt in his eyes. “And as nice as tonight was, I'm just not sure if I'm ready to have you back in my life completely yet."

“Ok, I understand. That's fair. I have no rights to make any demands on you when things ended the way they did.”

His eyes are downcast and he trails off into silence.

But just as you’re about to heave a sigh of relief, thinking he’s dropped it, he starts again, the hesitation clear in his shaky voice, "Can I give you my number? So you can think it over and text me if you ever want to be friends again. Like what you said, tonight was really nice."

His hand hovers over where your phone sits on the table, tentative without your go-ahead.

“Or you can just decide to throw it out and delete me from your life forever,” he begins rambling nervously. “I'll respect that too. I just can't leave things the way they are without doing anything I can to attempt to make reconciliation happen.”

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

That’s when you make the fatal mistake of looking him in the eye. The way he's looking at you…

You can’t. Or can you?

Like what you told Hoseok, you’re close to powerless when Namjoon looks at you like that.

Relenting, you flip his hand around and place your phone into his waiting palm.

"Okay. Fine. I'll think about it."

"Thank you,” he says breathily. His dimpled smile and eyes aglow send your heartbeat stuttering.

As Namjoon's keying his phone number into your phone, Hoseok returns. The action doesn't go unnoticed by him, and the way he eyes your phone in Namjoon's hands has you squirming in your seat slightly. But Namjoon, gleeful with the hope of possible reconciliation, is none the wiser.

You, meanwhile, know that you’re in for a lot of explaining.

“It’s just a number, Hoseok,” you say the moment the subway pulls out of the station and away from Namjoon’s waving figure. It’s been sitting heavy on your tongue ever since the restaurant, and you take the first chance you get to spit it out. Never has the walk from the diner to the station felt so long.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah,” you fold your arms, stumbling slightly on the rickety carriage, but you maintain your indignant expression, “but your look said everything.”

You exhale heavily as you grip back onto the grab pole. You continue, softer this time, “He’s just asking to be friends.”

Hoseok purses his lips and the silence sits for a moment.

“What are you thinking?” he eventually asks.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “It’s just… a lot. What happened between us was a lot.”

You clear your throat and continue, “But the years of friendship in our little trio were a lot too. And tonight was a huge reminder of how good things used to be… of how good things could be.”

“So, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know.” You repeat, looking back at Hoseok now. “What should I do?”

“I can’t decide that for you.”

What a classic Hoseok response. Why did you even ask?

“He’s genuinely sorry,” you murmur, speaking more to yourself than to your brother.

“He is,” Hoseok affirms, his eyes softening now as he nods in agreement.

“And it’ll be just friends, nothing more.” Again, you’re not entirely sure of whether your words are meant to be consoling your brother or yourself.

“Do you want that? Being friends with him again and having him in your life again?”

Do you?

You try to consider it rationally, you really do.

But the emotions overtake you. Perhaps it’s from tonight’s dinner, a sampling of what it’d be like to have him as a friend again. Perhaps it’s the recognition of how wasteful it truly is to dump decades of friendship out the window.

Or perhaps it’s the revelation that you could never be angry with Namjoon, as much as you want to be. And you really want to be. He deserves it. After the way he let your relationship end without putting up a fight, after he left you shattered and the way you had to piece yourself back together shard by shard in the aftermath, he deserves your wrath.

But you can’t do it.

Especially not now when his repentance is so sincere. Not when he’s earnestly trying to make things right.

So do you want him back in your life? It’s irrational, it’s dumb, it’s risky, but you honestly could never help yourself when it comes to Namjoon.

“Yes,” you decide. “I’ve missed him, Hobi. I know it’s dumb to miss him after all these years and after what he did, but I still do.”

Hoseok slings an arm around you and pulls you into his chest. “Yeah, it’s pretty dumb,” he says, and you snort as you swat at his chest. “But if that’s how you feel, then that’s how you feel.”

“It’s been so strange,” comes your quiet admission. “He’s just always been there, y’know? And not having him around feels like having a limb missing.”

“Mmhm.” It’s barely a sound, but you know it’s Hoseok’s way of saying he understands, and it fills you with a deep sense of assurance and validation.

The train pulls to a stop, and you realize with a jolt that it’s your station. Reluctantly, you pull away from the hug and tug Hoseok out the doors. “C’mon.”

The apartment is just a few streets down from the station and, with your hands stuffed into the pockets of your jacket, your fists rubbing against the rough denim, you walk along silently. The sound of Hoseok’s footsteps beside you fades into rhythmical ambient noise the deeper you fall into thought.

It’s when you’re unlocking the door to your apartment, keys jangling, that Hoseok asks the very same question that you’ve been mulling over on the walk back.

“Can you forgive him?”

It’s surprising. Even to you. You always imagined it’d play out in either one of two ways- cutting words or punishing silence. But now that the moment has really arrived, you realize just how willing you are to extend forgiveness to him.

“I think I have to,” you begin slowly. “Not for him, but for me, y’know?” You nod, your certainty growing as you verbalize your thoughts. “Yeah. I have to do this. It’s getting tiring carrying all this resentment and bitterness around.”

The lock clicks open and you move to enter the apartment.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, placing a hand on your shoulder gently that has you pausing. “Whatever decision you make, just know that I support you.”

You wrap your brother in a quick side-hug. “Thanks, Hobi. That means a lot to me.”

Rolling over to switch your alarm off, you nestle back under the covers to catch a few more winks.

That’s when it all comes rushing back to you, and your initial plan to snooze is screwed. Did all that really happen? Did you really sit down to have dinner with Namjoon?

And did you really not reject his attempt at a peace offering? Young ____ would be so disappointed.

It feels a little unbelievable. I mean, sure, you’ve run into him more than a couple of times now. But never would you have imagined you would have him truly in your life again.

That is- if you would let him in. You haven’t replied to him, wanting to sleep on your decision for extra clarity.

Clarity, your ass. Through the thick fog of heavy sleep, it all feels like it could be nothing more than a fever dream.

But you can hear Hoseok’s snoring coming from the next room. And the memories of last night- the yellow lighting of the diner, the overly salty fries you kept picking at regardless, the jab of Hobi’s elbow into your side as he teased you, the way your sides ached from laughing so hard, the way those obsidian eyes pulled you in as they set on you from across the table- they’re too vivid to be made up.

And the one thing that will conclusively prove it- you prop yourself up to scroll through your contacts list. There. Sitting in your contacts is his name. The name you’d deleted off your phone all those years ago in a fit of anger, but now restored to its rightful place.

[8.03am] ____: hey joon, it’s ____.

You chew on your lip as you type and delete and re-type and repeat.

[8.07am] ____: do you have any plans for today? wanna do something?

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