#i call this the Rehearsal Dinner set

[paulkariyas]

↪ 04/29/2023 ― post-game ( rangers vs. devils ; scp rd. 1 )  

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this. 

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents. 

Or to you. 

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!” 

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come. 

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.” 

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay. 

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.” 

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head. 

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies. 

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches. 

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes. 

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you. 

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you. 

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking. 

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments. 

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out. 

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle. 

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony. 

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years. 

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat. 

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper. 

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.” 

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs. 

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.” 

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live. 

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows. 

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears. 

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.” 

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?” 

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her. 

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping. 

Sunghoon cries again. 

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word. 

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.” 

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?” 

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected. 

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him. 

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?” 

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?” 

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him. 

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way. 

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask. 

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.” 

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.” 

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor. 

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you? 

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set. 

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away. 

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been. 

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same. 

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks. 

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear. 

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.” 

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all. 

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay. 

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home. 

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw. 

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.” 

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking. 

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine. 

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles. 

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?” 

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.” 

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads. 

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.” 

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting. 

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.” 

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper. 

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what. 

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move. 

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other. 

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours. 

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again. 

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed. 

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace. 

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not. 

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it. 

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since. 

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying. 

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck. 

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough. 

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room. 

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down. 

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room. 

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding. 

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn. 

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.” 

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?” 

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed. 

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly. 

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet. 

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch. 

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs. 

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.” 

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?” 

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?” 

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it. 

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.” 

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway. 

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.” 

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction. 

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes. 

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs. 

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea. 

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping. 

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush. 

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used. 

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.” 

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry. 

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. 

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt. 

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally. 

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.” 

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?” 

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for. 

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?” 

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.” 

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed. 

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.” 

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?” 

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?” 

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.” 

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak. 

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?” 

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you. 

“I didn’t.” 

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t. 

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff. 

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out. 

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.” 

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront. 

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.” 

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him. 

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.” 

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing. 

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.” 

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat. 

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents. 

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do. 

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.” 

“What?” 

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now. 

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing. 

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother. 

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince. 

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family. 

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you. 

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan. 

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak. 

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush. 

You don’t respond. 

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.” 

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks. 

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves. 

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.” 

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot. 

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head. 

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave? 

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. 

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again.  “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.” 

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point. 

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning. 

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing. 

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.” 

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it. 

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.” 

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.” 

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart. 

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead. 

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely. 

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?” 

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them. 

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?” 

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down. 

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it? 

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you. 

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt. 

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too. 

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.” 

“The longest of my life.” 

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her. 

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her. 

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work. 

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.” 

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.” 

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.” 

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind. 

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand. 

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you? 

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D 

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him. 

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.” 

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides. 

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day. 

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.” 

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?” 

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.” 

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?” 

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.” 

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.” 

“Deal.” 

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard. 

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?” 

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.” 

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles. 

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin. 

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. 

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence. 

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.” 

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?” 

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose. 

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.” 

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.” 

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices. 

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.” 

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” 

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.” 

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed. 

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?” 

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.” 

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way. 

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?” 

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed. 

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door. 

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing. 

“Tell me.” 

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.” 

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm. 

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think. 

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring. 

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges. 

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk. 

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours. 

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world. 

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate. 

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.” 

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon. 

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.” 

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.” 

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest. 

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it. 

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.” 

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say. 

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon. 

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news? 

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call? 

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call. 

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day. 

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?” 

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.” 

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.” 

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.” 

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up. 

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm. 

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table? 

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view. 

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table. 

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.” 

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference. 

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up. 

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.” 

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.” 

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?” 

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel. 

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head. 

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?” 

Oh. 

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.” 

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.” 

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too. 

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought. 

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table. 

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on. 

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set. 

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.” 

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?” 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.” 

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy. 

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in. 

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are? 

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon. 

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink. 

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor. 

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.” 

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation. 

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.” 

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it. 

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better. 

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet. 

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on. 

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.” 

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away. 

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.” 

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.” 

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.” 

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.” 

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles. 

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it. 

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you. 

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling. 

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence. 

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you. 

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter. 

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands. 

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart. 

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting. 

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite. 

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger. 

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you. 

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.” 

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight. 

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under. 

You love him. He’s gone. 

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on. 

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing. 

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands. 

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you. 

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him. 

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.” 

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs. 

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.” 

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?” 

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.” 

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it. 

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely. 

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.” 

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest. 

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️ 

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants. 

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t. 

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back. 

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?” 

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.” 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?” 

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.” 

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage. 

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.” 

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?” 

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly. 

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done. 

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too. 

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies. 

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over. 

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent. 

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond. 

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods. 

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot. 

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.” 

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down. 

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can. 

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock. 

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest. 

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest. 

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise. 

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.” 

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours. 

You nod. “You can.” 

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you. 

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit. 

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings. 

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“And this? If you want..” 

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you. 

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats. 

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly. 

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.” 

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them. 

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage. 

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?” 

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.” 

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble. 

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls. 

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.” 

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under. 

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth. 

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition. 

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back. 

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes. 

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back. 

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[harrysfolklore]

30th birthday

i just can’t believe harry is 30 and this is my way to cope, i hope you like this 🥲

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The calendar marked February 1st as the date, which meant that it was finally Harry's 30th birthday.

You woke up earlier than him, in order to make him his special birthday breakfast that was a tradition by now, and as you stood alone in the cooking in the kitchen, you couldn't help but reminisce about all the previous birthdays you've celebrated with Harry.

From celebrating his birthday at a restaurant with his brand new band mates and friends after a day of The X Factor rehearsals, having big parties thrown for him with celebrities in attendance, flying off to Japan to celebrate there and throwing a concert to spend his special day with his fans, you couldn't believe Harry was turning 30 and you were able to grow up by his side.

"Love, where are you?" his raspy morning voice made its way to your ears, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Over here, in the kitchen!"

You turned around to see Harry stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing an oversized t-shirt that you recognized as one of your favorites.

"Morning, birthday boy," you greeted him, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.

"Morning," he replied, his eyes still half-closed. "What's all this?" Harry gestured towards the spread of pancakes, eggs, and bacon you had prepared on the table.

"It's your special birthday breakfast, as always," you pecked his lips again.

"You know, you could've woken me up with a 30 minute long blowj-"

"Harry!" you cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "Every single year, you say the same thing! When will you stop being a menace."

"Can you blame me?" Harry shrugged, "You still look as hot as you did when we first met fourteen years ago."

"Fourteen, huh?" you said, tilting your head, "How does it feel to not be a twenty something anymore? You're basically an old man now."

"I feel good, honestly," he said sincerely, his eyes locking with yours, "I mean, I'm happy and healthy, I have the job of my dreams, a family that loves me, supporting friends and the best girlfriend in the world, I'm a very lucky old man."

"You're too cute," you kissed him again, "Now eat your breakfast, we have a lot of celebrations to do today."

The day went by smoothly, Harry answered a couple of calls and texts from friends and family and you spent the afternoon cuddling up before it was time for his birthday dinner.

Harry wanted something small and intimate, with just a handful of close friends and family invited, so you decided to host the birthday dinner at your home. As the evening approached, the house was filled with the delicious aroma of the special dinner you had prepared for him.

Jeff and Glenne were the first ones to arrive, carrying a homemade cake that Glenne insisted she had baked all morning. Sarah and Mitch came next with their baby boy who giggled and clapped as Harry made silly faces, clearly enjoying the attention from the famous Cool Harry, because he refused to be called uncle.

"Damn mate, I can't believe you're 30 now," Jeff said, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders, "I still remember when you were twenty and my parents basically adopted you, I feel so old."

"You feel old? Imagine how I feel, that's my baby brother!" Gemma chimed in, entering your house with her boyfriend Michal and Anne, "Happy birthday, H."

"Thanks, Gem," Harry smiled, hugging his sister tightly. "And thanks for reminding everyone that I'm officially old now."

As more friends and family arrived, the laughter and chatter of loved ones filled the air, the dining table was adorned with candles, flowers, and a beautifully set dinner that everyone enjoyed.

Once your bellies were full, Mitch opened the champagne bottle Harry Lambert brought with him, filling everyone's glasses to make a toast.

"Alright, everyone, gather around," Mitch announced, holding up his glass, "To Harry, on his 30th birthday, may this year be filled with even more success and love. Cheers."

Everyone clicked their glasses, smiles on everyone's faces.

"I think the missus should give a speech!" Gemma teased, pointing at you.

"Not a missus yet, still no ring," you teased back, raising an eyebrow at Harry and hearing the whistles from his friends.

"Well, uh, maybe we'll have to do something about that soon." Harry chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

The room erupted in laughter and even more whistles, and you couldn't help but blush and roll your eyes with affection.

"Alright, alright," you began, holding up your glass, "Here's to the man of the hour. Harry, you've filled my life with so much joy, laughter, and love all these years. It's been an incredible journey growing up with you, I still remember when we were just kids, celebrating your 16th birthday before you became the star that you are today, I'm so proud of you and living life by your side has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Happy 30th birthday, my love. May this year bring you everything you desire."

Harry couldn't help but melt at your words, standing up and hugging you tightly and kissing your lips.

"Thank you, everyone," Harry began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia, "I can't believe I'm standing here, celebrating my 30th birthday. It feels like just yesterday I was a wide-eyed 16-year-old auditioning for The X Factor, not knowing what life had in store for me," he paused, glancing at each person in the room with watery eyes, "But here I am, and I couldn't be more grateful for each and every one of you. To my family, who has been there from the start, and to my friends who have become family. And to this incredible woman right here," Harry said, placing his hand on your waist, "who has been with me since I was I was an annoying teenager, growing up by my side."

"You're still as annoying as a teenager," Jeff interrupted him, making the entire room laugh, "But we love you, mate. And we're grateful for you."

As the night continued, the homemade cake adorned with candles was brought out, and everyone in the room sag "Happy Birthday" together, Harry made a wish and blew out the candles, surrounded by the people he loved the most.

After the cake-cutting and more chatter, everyone decided to call it a night and head home, leaving you and Harry at me comfort of your house.

"Thank you for everything," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

"It's your day, love. I'm just happy I could make it special for you," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

"You always make every day special," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You stood wrapped around each other for a few minutes, enjoying the final moments of his birthday.

"This has been one of my favorite birthdays ever," Harry admitted, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I'm glad you think so," you smiled, snuggling closer. "And, by the way, the 'no ring yet' comment earlier, totally just teasing."

"Oh, really? Because I was serious, maybe it's time," Harry smirked, giving you a playful look.

"Don't tell me you're about to propose, not on your own birthday, Harry!" you said nervously.

"Not right now love, but soon enough," he winked and you let out the breath you were holding, "I love you."

"I love you more, Harry. Happy birthday."

[boba-beom]

✮⋆˙ baby, I love you | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

PAIRING. fiancé!yeonjun x fiancée!reader GENRE. soft smut, fluff SYNOPSIS. after attending the rehearsal dinner two nights before your wedding day, the tension and excitement rises continuously. your fiancé has been working hard with the preparation of your future together, and it's only right you show him the love he deserves. WARNINGS. p w/ p, kinda sub!yeonjun, soft dom service top!!reader, oral (m. rec), body worship (m. rec), praise and praise and dirty praise, balls love, soft sex, breeding kink, simp talk from yeonjun hehe, petnames;(baby, love, pretty boy etc.) WC. 2.4k A/N. I've had these thoughts leaving and coming back so join my jjun brainrot with me 🫠 also took some inspo from Angel 2 Me — Mckay ft Jeff Bernat. enjoy reading!!!

pictures from twt accs @/page1305 and unknown T^T

tipsy giggles and gentle affirmations fill the room along with loose touches between you and your fiancé. the feathery touches that you've grown accustomed to is now something you'll be feeling for the rest of your lives together, and that's something you'll cherish forever.

yeonjun's waited so long to have time alone with you; after the both of you have been busy with schedules that included your hen and stag-dos, pictorials and now the rehearsal dinner—this was finally the only time you'll be able to be alone and relax together. you were told you can't sleep together the night before the wedding so this was your chance to show yeonjun how appreciative you were of his planning throughout the past few weeks.

it started with his gentle caresses during the dinner, though surrounded by close friends and family, that didn't stop him from giving you a kiss to your temple here and there, or a stray hand that was attached to your waist half of the time.

then came talking to your guests; memorable and fun conversations igniting the excitement towards their favourite pre-wedded couple. glasses upon glasses of what deemed to be a little more than an appropriate amount of alcohol had yeonjun's cheeks flushed and yours burning up ever so slightly, but because of the company by many, the buzz was just so exhilarating that neither of you held back—but told each other tipsy to borderline drunk was when you would stop.

and now you're having to go through with the consequences of heightened senses—minds a little clouded but not enough to not know what you're doing. the consequences being wet kisses along each other's necks, slow wandering hands along each other's torsos and not leaving an inch of skin untouched.

you've shared plenty of tipsy kisses with yeonjun throughout your long six years of your relationship but every experience was never the same as previous ones. there were times where yeonjun was a little needier than you were, or perhaps rougher than other times, but either way you've enjoyed every single moment with him.

at this moment you feel more love than you've ever felt. may it be the excitement of getting married to him, knowing that this will be the man you will be calling your forever, or perhaps it's the fact that you're two and a half champagne glasses in and your need for yeonjun has elevated.

you crane your neck to the side, your hands lingering over the warmth radiating off of yeonjun's bare, broad shoulders while your chest heaves from his gentle kisses across your bare skin.

"mmh, you're so beautiful baby." he mumbles against your collar bone, kissing up to the side of your neck and taking note not to mark you... for now.

a sigh slips past your parted lips, eyes shut and taking in the hot trails of his hands circling your waist. his hands fits your body perfectly like your missing puzzle piece that you can finally set in stone. your hands wrap around his wrists lightly, opening your eyes to look at him; lips swollen from scattering his invisible love marks that only you can feel.

"sit on the bed for me, sweetheart." you kiss the edge of his plush lips, leading him to the edge of the pristine white sheets provided in this pretty villa.

and as your future husband, he obliges, eyes hooded and hazy with lust and love only for you.

yeonjun sits a little past the edge of the bed, leaning back so his elbows supports his weight, still looking up at you with his dark orbs that twinkled with specs of longing for you to act on your next move. as you walk over to him, the bed dips from your knees shuffling on either side of his legs until you're hovering him.

"such a pretty boy under me like this." your thumb and finger lightly lifts his chin to look up at you, only then you could see the smirk on your lover's lips.

"you look so sexy from this angle, think you should do it more often." he shifts underneath you, leaning on one arm as the other stretches out for him to hold your waist and lower your panty cladded core onto his bulge prominent in his slacks.

"yeah? I could get used to this." you chuckle and he does too.

"well, we have forever together. I'll let you do it as many times as you want to." you gasp a little from his words, but more so from him guiding your hips to grind down on his erection ever so slowly.

you still your hips immediately, causing yeonjun to tilt his head in confusion.

"let me." you whisper.

remembering that it's your time to shower him with love and appreciation, you dip into the crook of his neck and lay delicate kisses against his lightly tanned skin. you loved when the sun kissed his skin, whether or not you're in broad daylight your fiancé always looked like he was glowing.

he returns to leaning on his arms, attentively watching you gradually kissing down his bare chest, down along his soft abs until you're kneeling on the floor between his legs and your fingers are fiddling with his belt.

"you've worked so hard lately," you start, kissing his clothed knee while you undo his belt. "I just wanna show you how grateful I am..." your voice trails, unzipping his slacks and sliding your fingers over the buldge in his calvin klein boxers. "... grateful I get to call you my husband in two days."

yeonjun lets out a sharp gasp once your fingers hook onto the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down along with his slacks to have them pool by his ankles then discard them with his white blazer somewhere in the room. he groans quietly from your fingers skimming down his shaft and back up to wrap around his girthy cock, pretty pink tip decorated in clear beads dribbling down his length.

"so, so pretty." your eyes look up at yeonjun's, his cheeks blushed while you stick your tongue out to taste the salty beads, and his sighs only get louder.

that was your sign to take him deeper into your mouth. you fist his cock slowly before enveloping your lips around the head, heavy on your flat tongue until you gradually swirl around his length, slowing down the movement when you feel the prominent vein against the middle of your tongue.

you've given head to yeonjun plenty of times and he loved every single one of them just as much as you enjoy giving it to him. every time you do, your first and foremost priority is to make him feel good, and this is no different with your eyes steady on yeonjun and taking more of his length until the head carefully bumps the back of your throat.

yeonjun just loves the feeling of your warm and wet mouth encapsulating his cock, hot and heavy while you stop your head and pulling off of him with a string of saliva connecting your tongue and his tip.

"god that feels so good, I've been wanting to feel that mouth on me the past few days." he sighs, caressing your cheek then resorting to carding his fingers through your hair.

you suck on his pink, now red, tip, "then why didn't you say anything hunny?" your tongue immediately kitten licks his tip, having him twitch beneath you.

"because I didn't want to disrupt you," you sink down onto him, nose touching his pubic bone, "I know you're focused on- shit- wanting the best preparation for our big day."

you groan around his cock, throat sending pleasurable vibrations to the point yeonjun throws his head back with a moan a little louder than before. a few steady bobbing of your head and your throat contracting around his length has your eyes tearing up and yeonjun's moans picking up. luckily your shared room was the only one on the ground floor, but either way, you didn't care who would have heard the both of you regardless.

releasing his thick cock from your throat, you kiss down his shaft until your lips spoils his balls with soft kisses. the pace on his dick doesn't stop, your fist remains with steady pumps while you gently suck on his balls, toying your tongue around them. you know just how much yeonjun loves it when you play with his balls, almost guttural groans fill the room if it wasn't for his teeth biting down on his bottom lip.

"fuck baby, c'mere." yeonjun hisses once you take his balls out of your mouth one more time.

with ease, you crawl back onto your man's lap, seated prettily with your hands instinctively wrapping around his shaft, another brief smirk displayed on his face from the sight of your thumb and fingers hardly touching.

"you've been such a good boy, planning out almost everything, hm?" your brows softly scrunch feigning pity. "working so hard to have everything perfect, is that right?"

your fist picks up the speed, slick sounds of your saliva mixed with his pre-cum only leads to yeonjun panting and whining in your hold.

"always wan- want everything perfect for you, baby." he fights his head from leaning back, fixating on the motion of your fist.

"mhm? and you deserve to feel good, hunny."

at this point you were leaning close to yeonjun's ear, whispering plenty of praises and kissing his lobes while his hair strands were slowly falling over his face, the hairspray somewhat keeping it intact. he's always been such a beautiful man, but something about watching him fall apart ignites something inside of you.

you still had your panties on, the only piece of clothing between the both of you, but yeonjun could already tell that it was about time to lose the article of clothing knowing just how damp it is from your cunt leaking.

"think it's about time you take this off," his voice raspy as he hooks on the band of your panties, releasing it and having it slap your hip.

"be a darling and take it off for me?"

the bed dips again as you kneel higher, your hands planting on his shoulders for support. you make it easier for yeonjun to pull your panties down your thighs in a teasing manner; his lips latching onto your nipple, tongue swirling around the hardening bud until your last piece of clothing falls past your ankles.

"you're so beautiful," he mumbles against your nipple, releasing it with a pop and moving onto the other. a sound nothing short of a quiet whimper escapes his lips once your hand returns to his cock, his mouth hanging open almost immediately once the pace of your fist picks up. "oh yeah- fuck baby just like that."

"faster?" you tilt your head to the side, the same soft brows scrunching and lips slightly pouting at his chest heaving.

"yes, yes please," he lets out a strangled cry and you giggle at the sound, knowing that your pussy's dripping over his lap, but you hold yourself from rutting against his thigh. you just want to prioritise his pleasure over yours. "wanna be inside you, pretty."

yeonjun reaches out to hold onto your hips, chests colliding from pulling you forward. he aligns his tip at your entrance, returning with his lips finally on yours, whispering sweet pleas and promises of wanting to make you feel just as good.

"relax baby," you mumble, lightly nibbling on his lip. "gonna have you cum inside me and fill me up."

you sink down onto him, walls squeezing him and full of his thick cock with his tip nudging against your cervix. the both of you moan in unison, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and his one hand on your waist to help you lift your hips and sink back down on him again.

"fuck jjunie, your cock's always stretching me out so good." you whimper as you throw your head back, repeatedly bouncing on his dick and feeling him already twitching inside.

"need, mph, need you to cum with me baby." his free hand moves between your sweaty bodies, fingers naturally rubbing quick circles on your clit. he's so eager to have you catch up with his high, knowing that you'll be cumming in no time from the double simulation.

his lips are back on yours again, swallowing each other's moans and whimpers. your walls are uncontrollably spasming around your lover's twitching dick and you could feel your orgasm catching up to his. yeonjun's hands are both holding onto your waist as he fully lays his back against the bed, holding you up while he whimpers, raising his hips up to drill into your swollen cunt.

"oh baby! yeonjun I'm gonna cum!" you almost squeal from his rapid pace, your hands wrapping around his wrists.

"gonna fill you up so full, gonna make you a mommy on our wedding night." he babbles.

with a couple more harsh thrusts up into your cunt and joint moans, your thighs start shaking around his legs, staccato pumps of warm white ropes gradually fills you up deliciously. yeonjun's hands soothingly rubs the surface of your thighs, panting beneath you as he closes his eyes for a brief moment.

"so you really wanna start a family asap?" you ask him genuinely, leaning down and hovering over him as you peck up along his chest and neck, his dick still inside you.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind it." he kisses your forehead and lightly thrusts up into you, causing you to groan quietly in his hold as his cum leaks out slowly. "baby making's just too fun."

you scoff at his comment, shaking your head at him teasingly. once you've caught your breath you lean your head against his chest, listening to his heart beating.

"I wouldn't mind it either, hunny." you say simply. "I think you'd be a great dad to our children."

yeonjun lifts his head at you abruptly, eyes a little wide in curiosity.

"children? how many? I can give you as many as you want."

you chuckle at his excitement. he's always been so fond of children and him wanting his own is a part of his dreams.

"you're so cute." you cup his cheek and caress his soft skin. "no more than three is enough for me. but give me time in between–"

"oh yeah, of course. I still wanna be able to make love to my wifey without as much disruption." he cuddles you tighter, littering your face with chaste kisses. "baby, I love you so much."

his smile melts your heart, and you still can't believe you're going to marry this wonderful man.

" and I love you so much more."

taglist: @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman @ahnneyong @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @itaehynz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @yunkiwii @prodsh00ky @moamidzyism @lovejoshua @aprilisque @ja4hyvn @beomnoullistheorem @seolis-world @jak-ey @my313 (send an ask to be part of the taglist! here's the spreadsheet for reference!)

feedback would be much appreciated <3 I haven't written in what feels like years T^T

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

[alotofpockets]

Unknown | Alessia Russo

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Actress!Reader

Summary: You get a flower delivery but the bouquet isn't from who you thought it was.

Warnings: Angst (happy ending), stalker fan.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

-----

You were busy rehearsing lines for tomorrow when your doorbell rang. On the other side of the door stood a delivery person with a bouquet of flowers in their hands. “Thank you, have a good day.” You say when taking the flowers from them. The flowers were absolutely beautiful, you find the tag, which reads a simple ‘I love you x’, your heart warms at the thought of your girlfriend thinking of you while she’s away. 

Alessia was attending an award show on the other side of the country, and her management had arranged for a few interviews surrounding it, making her trip three days instead of leaving the same day again. Usually you’d be Alessia’s plus one to events, as would she for you, but this time you weren’t able to. You were in the middle of filming your new project that was being filmed in London, so you were able to stay at your own place for the duration.

You were about to leave for work when you found out that your car wasn't starting. In frustration you hit the steering wheel, you couldn't be late for this shoot. You text Lotte, hoping that the usual early bird is awake already.

Y/n: Heyy, are you up already?

Alessia’s teammates had become your friends over the two years that you had been dating.

Lotte: Yeah, what's up?

The girl responded within a minute.

Y/n: Is there any way you can drive me to work like right now? My car isn't starting and I have to be there in an hour.

Lotte: Yes, I've got you. I'll be there in ten.

You head back inside, deciding on having a quick breakfast at home, instead of having breakfast on set to save you some time. 

With a knock on the door Lotte announced that she was there, you let her in to offer her a cup of coffee while you finished your breakfast. “Thank you so much for doing this.” She gives you a side hug, “Of course, no problem at all.” She sits down at the counter and looks over at the flowers. “Less?” She asks and you nod with a smile, “So sweet, right?”

Lotte dropped you off at work and told you to call her when you needed a ride back. “Thanks again, Lotte, I owe you one.” 

You hadn't gotten the chance to talk to Alessia yet, when you weren't filming she was in interviews. But it was a good day of shooting, you managed to get two scenes done today like how the crew had planned. You gave Lotte a call, before you changed out of your character's clothes back into your own.

“You're a lifesaver, Lotte.” You say as you step into her car. “Do you have dinner plans tonight? If not, can I please invite you over as a thank you?” Lotte accepted your invitation but made sure to let you know that it wasn't necessary as a thank you but she'd love the company. The two of you were so deep in conversation when you arrived back at your apartment, that you didn't notice that Alessia’s car was parked in the lot. 

Once you get into your apartment, you notice a familiar pair of shoes standing next to your door. “Lessi, baby, you're back early?” You ask full of enthusiasm, but you're met with silence. It's only when you walk into the kitchen that you see her, she looks both angry and upset. “Who are these from?” Your brow furrows, “What do you mean who are they from? Are they not from you?” Alessia stands to her feet, “I didn't, so please don't fool me.” 

Lotte who had been quietly standing in the background speaks up, “I know it's none of my business but Less, this morning y/n was happily telling me the flowers were from you.” Alessia looks between the two of you. “And what exactly are you doing here?” You step in now, realising that Alessia might be thinking the flowers were from Lotte. “My car broke down, and Lotte is the only person I know that's awake early enough for my set times, so I asked her to drive me to work.” 

Alessia seemed to calm down, and believed what you were telling her. “Why would someone randomly send flowers without signing their name?” You shrug, “I have no clue, maybe someone left the wrong address or something. Let’s just leave it behind us, I want to know how your event went.” The three of you prepare dinner, and talk the rest of the evening.

Everything seemed to be back to usual, until a couple days later a box of chocolates was delivered to you on set. The handwriting on the note matched the one on the bouquet, a cold chill ran down your spine when the realisation hit that this wasn't just coincidental but that there was someone out there that knew where you lived, and when you would be on set.

Your first thought was to video call your girlfriend. After pressing the call button, you start pacing your trailer. “Hi my love, is everything alright?” She could read on your face that something was troubling you. “Less, the flowers, it wasn't a coincidence. They delivered something here addressed to me.” Alessia was furious but stayed calm for you. “Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm coming over right now, and we'll talk to security at the set, make sure no strangers or packages are to be accepted. Then once you're done with work I’m taking you back to my place. I've got you, okay?” You nod. “Thank you, baby.” 

Alessia stayed on the call with you until she arrived at your set and had her eyes on you. You ran into her arms, and she held you tight. “It's okay, you're okay.” She whispered to calm you down. “I know but it's just so scary that they know where I live and where I work.” With a nod she let you know that she understood your worries. “Do you have time to talk to security now or do you need to head back?” You look at your phone, “I've got about fifteen minutes before I have to get back. Can we please talk to them first?” 

She took your hand, and explained to the head of security what was going on. He assured you that they would make sure that they would keep you safe, and even offered for someone to walk you back to your car, just to be sure. You thanked him, before making your way over to the set.

The rest of your work day you were able to put the worrying to the back of your mind, knowing that Alessia was here and the security team was aware of the situation. It was later that evening, in Alessia's apartment when the worrying started to come back. “They know where I live. What if I go back to my apartment and they're just there? What am I supposed to do?” Alessia held you through your worries. “We're going to figure something out, my love.” 

You didn't get much sleep that night but with an early call again, you made your way to the car. As promised a security guard escorted you from your car to your trailer, which you were grateful for. During hair and makeup, you were more quiet than usual, being too tired to use your energy for socialising. 

The day was going fine, until you heard commotion coming from outside your trailer. You open the trailer door to see if everything was alright, only to find a man trying to get through security screaming your name. “Y/n! You haven’t been home all week, I had to come see you at work. Please come y/n, I need to see you.” You’re frozen in place at the top of the small stairs. “Get back inside, we've got this.” The security called over his shoulder. You closed the door behind you and leaned your back against it. 

Alessia had explained the previous encounters you had with her teammates, everyone had been very supportive and said that if you needed anything they were there for you. She was in the gym with them, when her phone rang, your name on the display. You knew each other's schedules very well, so she knew that if you were calling during her training times something was wrong.

She snapped out of her shocked state, and answered the phone. “Y/n, wh-” She didn't get further than that as you interrupted her between sobs. “He's here” Alessia's worry grows. “Here as in on set?” Her words caught the attention of their teammates, who all stopped what they were doing. “He's next to my trailer, security is trying to keep him back.” Alessia got up and started gathering her stuff, “I'm on my way. I can stay on the phone, if you’d like.” You shake your head, “I'm okay, you focus on driving please.”

The small group of her teammates that were in the same part of the gym, had all grabbed their stuff as well and followed Alessia to the locker room. “We're not letting you go alone.” Katie said, Lotte, Caitlin, and Leah nod agreement. 

They arrived and saw a parking lot filled with police cars, and saw two officers walk a man to the car in handcuffs. Alessia was so angry that she wanted to run up to him, she didn't know what she would do but thanks to Katie holding her back, she wouldn't have to. 

The group walked up to the security guard securing the entrance. Alessia holds up her visiting badge, he nods in approval, “What about the rest of you?” Alessia speaks up for them, “They're with me. We're here for y/n y/l/n, she's my girlfriend.” He shakes his head, “I'm sorry miss but I can't let anyone in without permission.” That's when Alessia sees the head of security, “Paul! Can you come here for a second?” He rushes towards Alessia, “Miss Russo, I'm so sorry for what happened. I will get to the bottom of how he got in, you have my word.” Alessia shakes her head, “Thank you, Paul. For now, can you get my friends in?” He tells the other security guard to let them through and escort them to your trailer.

You see the familiar Arsenal training kits in the corner of your eyes while you’re giving your statement to the police. “Excuse me, can you give me one moment?” The officer looks over her shoulder, and nods. You run towards Alessia and let her wrap her arms around you tightly, as your head is pressed into her chest. Once you’ve had your moment of comfort, you step away from her and say a quick hello to the rest of the girls. “I need to finish giving my statement, you can wait in my trailer if you want to.” You point toward the one that is your. Alessia tells the girls to go ahead, while she stays near you. 

Once the officer was done with your statement, Alessia wrapped her arm around your shoulder and placed a kiss on your temple. “Let’s go inside, my love.” You told the girls what happened, and they tell you that they saw him being put into the back of a police car in handcuffs, which honestly made you feel a bit better. 

Alessia was focussed on one part of your story, the fact that he had said he needed to come to your work since you hadn’t been home. That meant that he had been spying on your house, and also didn’t know where you had been staying. “Hey, love, I know it’s under the worst circumstances ever, but I have loved living with you over the last couple of days, and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to move in with me, like permanently.” Your smile grew, “Yes, I would love to. It’s been so great to come home to you.” Alessia brings you in for a hug, as your trailer fills with aw’s. 

-----

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[goldenlikedayl1ght]

false god - m. murdock

a/n: sorry if this is bad i did my best because i have been thinking about him a lot warnings: cursing, smut, cunninglus (reader recieving), exhibition (kind of?) matt has an oral fixation, praise, premarital activites, reader is deaf and uses hearing aids but it's only mentioned once, if i missed any let me know! word count: 1.8k summary: the night before your wedding, you and matt are starving. you want to order room service, matt wants to eat out. pairing: matt x fem!reader now playing: false god - taylor swift "but we might just get away with it/religion's in your lips/even if it's a false god/we'd still worship/we might just get away with it/the altar is my hips"

When the devil finally proposed to you, he did it amongst flames and darkness.

…

Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as dramatic as that.

Matt had proposed to you in the empty office of Nelson, Murdock & Page where you had met, with the lights turned down and candles lighting up the air around you. It was romantic, just as the two of you deserved.

Planning took a long time, too, with flowers, dresses and food taking over your every thought.

But now, all of that was done. There was nothing to be worried about anymore, as you and Matt specifically requested that if anything were to go wrong, Foggy and Karen would take care of it the best they could and not alarm the two of you unless someone was either dying or threatening to kill you.

So, in less than twenty-four hours, you would be Mrs. Matt Murdock, doomed to a life of lawyer jargon and patching up wounds, with no way out. The thought made you giddy.

The ceremony was going to be held at the church, but the pair of you had moved in with each other a long time ago, so it felt weird to try and avoid each other the night before the wedding and the morning in your own apartment. So, you and your future husband, as well as your small wedding party, had booked a few rooms in a hotel near the church.

You both had your respective ‘last hurrah’ a few weeks prior, so there was really nothing to do after the rehearsal dinner other than head to your room and relax, waiting for your alarm to go off to start getting ready.

You had decided to take it easy, enjoying a glass of wine after what you deemed to be an ‘everything’ shower, taking all the necessary precautions to feel like your best self on your wedding day. You had even bought yourself a nice silk pajama set, white, just like your rehearsal dress, and just like your wedding dress.

Your wedding dress hung freshly steamed in the closet of the hotel room, your shoes placed neatly beneath it. Your jewelry and accessories were laid out neatly on the dresser across from the bed. Your wedding ring sat in a box, inscribed with your husband’s name on it. He sat next to it, your name in braille on the inside of the ring.

In the morning, your mom, your sister, Karen, Marci and the woman who had been doing your hair and makeup for every major life event would be there, coffee in Karen’s hands, as your soon to be husband and his best friend got ready together, reminiscing on how they had landed themselves here.

Everything was perfectly set in place. Your job now was to just get married, and really, how hard could that be?

So, with your wine, you tuck yourself into bed with full intentions of getting a good night’s rest in your silky bridal pajamas.

Except, your job was almost done. There were no more seating arrangements to make, no one else to chase after for an RSVP, no more fittings, and no more menus to create to adhere to you and your soon to be husband’s particular tastes.

So, for the first time in weeks, you weren’t stressed at all.. Which left you with one conclusion:

You missed Matt.

You had seen him a few hours ago for the rehearsal dinner, but you were suddenly left with the conclusion that you were aching for the man you’d spend the rest of your life with.

Before you realized what you were doing, you were calling him.

On the second ring, he answered.

“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

“Hi. Everything’s great.”

A pause.

“Okay, do you want to talk about anything..?”

“There’s nothing else to do, Matty!” You’re out of bed and pacing now. “I’m stress free, and I can’t even be with you!”

You hear his laugh from the other side of the line, and it makes your heart flutter.

“We have the rest of our lives to spend the night together, baby.” He must have had a drink or two like you, because ‘baby’ is his tipsy nickname for you.

“I know, but I miss you now. And I’m hungry.” You tell him.

“Do you want to come over, order room service, and make out?”  He grins. “You just have to leave before midnight, it’s bad luck to see the bride the day of the wedding.”

You’re putting on your slippers when you pause and consider this for a minute.

“Matt, You’re blind.”

“And you’re deaf, don’t forget your hearing aids, baby.”

“How drunk are you right now? How would I be talking to you if I didn’t have them in right now?” You question.

A pause.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” His voice is softer now, and before you know it, you’re out the door and walking down the hallway.

He opens the door before you can knock, because of all the men in New York, you’ve landed the one with heightened abilities.

“Hi.” You grin, but he doesn’t respond. He simply leans down and picks you up bridal style, much to your objection. He kicks the door behind him closed before he carries you to the bed. He lays you down on it, finding himself on top of you.

“Silk?” He asks gently, his hand on your side.

“Mhm. Bridal pajamas.” You giggle. He just grins and leans in to kiss you. He pulls away from the kiss only to move to your jaw, and then down your neck. “Matthew, I want to order room service, I’m starved!”

His hands find their way underneath your top, his fingers beginning to creep up your skin.

“Me too. Been planning so much, I’ve hardly had the chance to be with you.. To touch you like this.”

You hum softly, but then your stomach rumbles loudly. So, when He lands on his knees in front of you and pulls you forward so that his head is between your thighs, he takes a second to lean over, searching for the room service menu before handing it to you, as well as the phone.

“What looks good, baby?” He asks, leaning his cheek against your thigh. Your pajama bottoms are shorts, so his warm cheek is a sharp contrast to your skin.

“What are you up to, Murdock?” You ask suspiciously, sitting up to look at the menu.

“Nothing, what kind of desserts do they have on there?”

What a weird, secretive man your future husband is.

“Uh, they have a crème brulee, apple pie, angel cake with chocolate ganache frosting—”

“Oo, can you order me one of those?” he asks, starting to kiss your thighs. Your face flushes.

“Sure, But I’m also gonna order the chocolate covered strawberries and the brownie al a mode—”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He hums, “You just have to order it for me.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, but you go to dial the number for room service.

The woman on the other end of the phone is very nice.

As she begins to talk, Matt listens in, but mainly focuses on pulling down your shorts and panties, kissing along your thighs.

Your free hand goes to his hair to try and keep him from eating you out while you order room service, but he is a persistent man.

His lips meet your clit first, and he listens as you gasp, trying to finish the order that he had so kindly requested you to make. His tongue meets your folds, finally satiating the hunger he had for weeks leading up to this.

Your fingers grip his hair, only making him quicken his pace.

“Can I also get uhm—” You can barely think straight. “The uh, Fuck—” Matt’s nose rubs against your clit, his tongue moving at a devastating pace.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” The woman on the other line asks.

“Yeah, Sorry, stubbed my toe on the dresser,” You explain. Matt grins from his place between your thighs. His tongue drags up and down, as if he’s licking every inch of you, like maybe he’ll never be able to taste you again. “The angel cake, can we get two slices of that?” You ask, your fiancé’s pace increasing.

“Yeah, of course. Anything else?”

Matt takes only a moment to stop his assault on your pussy, to add, “The strawberries, baby,” before continuing to lap his tongue against your wet heat.

“The chocolate covered strawberries, and that’s it,” You finish.

“Alright, we have the brownie, the strawberries, and the cake..” She finishes. “What room?”

“Two twenty six,” You tell her. You roll your hips up to try and get more from Matt, but one hand leaves his grip on your thigh to hold your hips down. He knows you’re close, he always knows.

“Oh, are you the bride for tomorrow?” She asks.

This god damn wedding.

“Mhm,” You manage out, biting your lip to try and stop yourself from moaning.

“Congratulations!” She chirps, “Consider the room service complimentary, then,” She gifts.

“Thank you, very much.” You hum.

Matt stops his assault again.

“Ask her how long,” and then he’s back to tasting you, relentlessly.

“How long?” You ask, breathlessly.

“Should only be about ten, fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, thank you,” You say again, your grip on Matt’s hair tightening as you edge closer to your orgasm.

“Of course! Have a very happy wedding day!” And with that, she hangs up, and you toss the phone in the general direction of the machine.

“I’m gonna kill you,” You tell Matt, who stops quickly.

“Do you want to kill me, or do you want me to make you cum?” He asks. He looks really pretty between your thighs.

“Please, Matty..” You give in, and he smirks.

“That’s my good girl.” And he continues to suck your clit, edging you closer and closer. His pace quickens, somehow even more. You let out a soft moan that sounds like absolute heaven to Matt’s ears.

Your thighs are starting to shake because you’re so damn close. Matt keeps his licks consistent, waiting for your release. Your fingers tug on his hair, as you moan, finally hitting your release. He lets you ride out your high, licking all your cum up, making sure to suck up every last drop.

“So sweet and so good for me..” he hums, planting a soft kiss to your clit before pulling away, licking his lips.

“You’re such a dick..” You giggle.

He laughs, kissing your thigh.

“Did so well for me, Sweetheart..” He hums, leaning up to give you a soft kiss. When he pulls away, he slips your shorts back on, and looks like he has a new idea. “Ten to fifteen minutes, huh?”

“Mhm..” You’re just looking at him with such adoration.

“We could probably put that pretty mouth to good use while we wait, right?”

[alocon]

Still Irresistible [2] - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

written by alocon

Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship

Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, part 2 to the story released the other day.

[Part One Here] [Part Three Here] [Part Four Here] [Masterlist]

Irresistible - LN⁴ x Fem!Reader

"Lando Norris"

You two had never broken apart as quickly as you did just then. The pair of you had been in your kitchen, cooking together for the arrival of P and Max. You had forgotten that he had a key. He quickly placed another kiss on your lips before stepping back, sitting on the counter beside you just in time for your brother to walk in.

"Hello, beautiful," P said, walking over to you to place a kiss on your cheek. You greeted her back, returning the gesture.

You and Lando had, expertly, invited the pair for dinner. They didn't know that you and Lando were together. I mean, God. Max would surely kill you for it. Which is exactly why this wasn't a double date. It was simply two roommates, one roommates brother and the brother's girlfriend having dinner.

It wouldn't be the first double date that you two had. You had also had some with Alex and Lily, as those two had witnessed your first kiss at the club 8 months prior and had a few with Oscar and Lily, who had only found out about you because Lando accidentally slipped up when he was speaking. Other than that, though, no one knew. You travelled to a lot of his races with him, so, of course, there were rumours about the two of you. However, Max was not suspicious as that had happened since he started driving in Formula One. It was how the sport went. Racing on Friday-Sunday, Rumours from Monday-Wednesday, Answering those rumours on Thursday. It was just part of the sport.

The group of you began to discuss how you had been, how things had been going. You all stood in the kitchen talking so that you could cook and still be involved. "What about you, Lan? Have you found someone yet, mate?"

Almost as if it was rehearsed (it was), Lando began to use his excuse. You both had agreed that, had this question came up, you would say you weren't, and he could choose on the day. "There's someone I'm interested in. She's great. We've talked, but I haven't taken her out on a proper date yet." You smiled as you stirred the pot of pasta. Smart, you thought. Technically, it's not a lie. He hadn't taken you out on an official date, just you two, but you had been on double dates, and you had also had many dates in the house. And when you went out in public together, it wasn't considered an official date, so no one was suspicious. Didn't mean you both didn't consider them dates.

"That's great, mate. It's about time you got yourself out there. I swear, since we were little, it was always 'yeah there's someone I like but we can't be together', I had started thinking that you might love my sister." Max let out a chuckle as you thanked God that you were facing away from him as you listened in, more intrigued. You decided to start teasing Lando.

"Awwe. Used to have a little crush on me, did you?"

Lando picked up on the usual jokey-flirting and decided to hit back. "Nope. Can't stand you."

"Yeah, yeah, that's why you used to get super nervous talking to me when we were 13." You turned to him, watching as his face flushed slightly red out of being called out. He was only able to mumble a 'shut up' in response, making you and Max laugh.

"Doesn't surprise me, I was amazing and very funny and beautiful growing up."

"Still are. Except for the beautiful part," He quickly added the last part onto his sentence as he spoke too quickly for that to be considered friendly. Max eyed him before turning away. You began to plate up the pasta and sent Max off to go set the table, P opting to follow him. "That was close," Lando whispered to you, causing you to wack him gently.

"God, Lan. Watch what you say," you responded, placing your hand on his face to pull him in for a quick kiss. That kiss turned into a longer one, though, as he clearly didn't want to break away from it.

"Right. Make yourself useful." You said, pulling away before they could get caught. You passed him two plates. "Go take these out please. This one is P's, this one is Max's."

"Yes ma'am. Do I get paid with another kiss?"

You rolled your eyes, placing another peck to his lips before he grinned, heading out of the room with the plates.

You grabbed the other two, following suit and placing them on the table. "Right, I'll be back in a second, I'm going to run some food over to Martine."

"Alright, tell her I say hi," Lando responded as you went to the kitchen.

A look of confusion appeared on Max's face. "Who's Martine?"

"Our neighbour. She's 60, and she's been struggling a lot recently because her husband passed last month, so we've been taking her food and inviting her over for dinner so she isn't lonely."

"Aw, that's lovely!" P said, smiling as the door shut.

You stepped across the hallway, knocking the door of your neighbour opposite. After a few minutes, she answered. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm good, how are you doing? We have some extra food, so I wanted to bring it over for you." You passed her the tub of food, and she smiled gratefully.

"Oh, thank you, dear. I'm feeling a little better than yesterday. It's getting easier day by day, you know?"

You nodded in response, accepting the hug she offered you. "Would you like to come over for dinner again on Friday? Like we have been doing the past few weeks?"

"Are you sure it wouldn't be too much bother?"

"Not at all. I would've invited you over today, but my brother and his girlfriend are over for dinner, and I remember you saying that big groups got a little overwhelming for you."

"Ah right, having a double date, are you?"

You shook your head. "No, my brother doesn't know about Lando and I. Lando says hi by the way."

"Oh, do tell him I say hi back. How come your brother doesn't know? Haven't you been together for 8 months now?"

You grinned cheekily in response to her question. She was such an angel. You absolutely loved Martine. She was hands down the sweetest neighbour you had. "Lando was Max's best friend before he was my boyfriend, so Max would be a little upset if he found out."

"Oh, right. Well, you can't decide who you fall in love with, darling." You heard a door open behind you. "Love is something you can't really control. If you feel like someone is really, really right for you, he probably is, you know?"

You froze when you heard a voice behind you. "Uh. Sorry, who are you in love with?"

Martine turned to your brother. "Oh, hello, you must be the brother. I've heard a lot about you. Don't mind our conversation, dear. I was just telling her about my daughter and her new boyfriend. I'm Martine."

'Martine, you legend,' you thought as she smiled sweetly and innocently.

"Oh right, I'm Max." He shook her hand before looking at you. "Where's the red wine?" You turned to see Lando poking his head around the door too, shooting you a wink.

"Top cupboard, right at the back. I had to put it back there because someone..." You paused to dramatically look at Lando. "Smashed up the last bottle we had."

"It was an accident."

"Yep. And now I have to Lando-proof everything." You turned to Martine. "Right, Martine. I'll leave you, your daughter and her boyfriend, be. Do tell them I say hi."

"Of course, dear. It was lovely to see you, as always. See you Friday."

You three headed back inside, Max heading to grab the wine.

Sitting at the table, you and P waited patiently for the return of Max and Lando. You made friendly conversation, as always. You two always got along quite well. P looked around for any signs of the boys before leaning towards you. "So... Anyone you're interested in?"

You looked at the woman. She knew something. You sighed, shrugging. "There is someone I am interested in. Please don't tell Max though, we both know he'll get all protective twin about this."

She nodded. "Do I get to know who? Because I could take a few guesses."

You shook your head. "Maybe some other time when people can't listen in."

She understood, luckily, and it was only a few moments until the boys reappeared, laughing away as they carried the wine glasses in. Lando sat beside you, gently giving your hand a quick squeeze under the table.

Dinner went normally, you all talked and messed about, the usual. You then all retreated to the living room to play some games.

"Oh fuck you!" Max wasn't happy as you crossed the line once again to take first place, having barely overtaken him just before the end due to an ability you had saved. "You cheated!"

"You can't cheat in Mario Kart, Max. Stop bitching because I'm better."

"Right," Lando spoke up before they could continue arguing. "Bed time, I think. What do you think?" The other 3 of you nodded in agreement. Max and P would be staying over so Lando had given up his room, stating that he was more than happy to sleep on the pull out sofa bed in your room.

You were laid down on your bed as Lando locked the door, Max and P having already retreated to Lando's room and P having already fallen asleep. Lando was the last to come to bed. He took his shirt off, placing it on your chair before removing his jeans so he was only in boxers. He slid into bed beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. He let out a soft, content noise as you cuddled up closer to him. "I've missed doing this."

"Lan, it's only been a few hours," you noted as one of his hands ran up to play with your hair.

"A few hours too long, being away from you sucks so bad."

"What are you going to do when you go off to races, then?"

"I don't know." He looked down at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. "You could always come with me."

You looked up to meet his eyes. "To which ones?"

"All of them." He paused, taking some time to admire your face, to watch the way to smiled softly. "Every. Single. One." He placed kisses to your lips between each word before placing his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

"Okay."

"Okay? You will come to more races with me?" His eyes lit up as he thought of all the time you could spend cuddling after his races.

"Lando." You stopped speaking a second, your hand moving to the side of his face, thumb gently moving over his cheek. "I would go anywhere that you asked me to."

He pulled you into another hug, his head on top of yours, squeezing you tight, not wanting to let go. He whispered a few I love you's to you, placing kisses all over your face as he spoke. He then placed another to your lips, a longer one than previous. One full of love, adoration. One that made you feel that you two were the only people in the world. One that made you feel like nothing else ever mattered. One that showed you that, no matter what Max thinks when he finds out about your relationship, it really doesn't matter. As long as he had you, everything was perfect and how it should be. You balanced him, you showed him the love that he always dreamt of being shown. You showed him what adoring someone truly felt like. And he found you irresistible. He would always find you irresistible.

-The End-

[Word Count - 2,012]

Hi All,

Another part to the Lando Norris "Irresistible" story because I thought the first part could do with a part two. Hope you are all well, as always, have a lovely day x

Alocon

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 13) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Daddy and Mommy Issues Galore; Arguments; Crying; Angst with a Dash of Despair; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You show Jake the envelope and set off a bomb in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

A.N. It's Chapter 13 y'all. What else did you expect?

Jake returned home after work, expecting you to be up and walking around. But when you didn’t call out to him as he shut the door behind him, he went looking for you. 

Jake walked further into your shared apartment and paused when he saw you sprawled out on the couch, asleep with the small fan blowing cool air straight onto your face. You were still wearing the clothes that you wore to work that morning. 

He stopped in front of you, taking a moment for himself. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say to you about the promotion. But now that he was home and you were asleep meant that he had more time to think over those words. 

Because it was not going to be an easy discussion. 

Telling you about what the promotion meant for the next few months was not a conversation that he even wanted to think about. The absolute last thing that he wanted to do was stress you out. And the second that you started to look upset or if you started to cry, he’d crumble into dust. He couldn’t think about your broken expression. He couldn’t. It’d haunt him for the rest of his days. 

So, he decided to start with the easier audience. 

“I got promoted today, little one,” he began softly, keeping his voice low as he squatted down in front of your bump. “You shouldn’t be surprised. It was overdue, actually.” The joking smile slipped from his lips as he glanced up at your peaceful sleeping expression. “But there’s a risk that I won’t be here when you finally arrive in a few months. There was always a risk but now it got a little bigger.”

Jake bit his lip and looked down at the floor, trying to keep his own fears and emotions stable. He deserved the promotion he got. He wanted it. He craved it. He earned it. 

But the timing couldn’t have been more shitty. 

“How do you think your mom would take the news?” he whispered to your bump, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Not well, right?” After a moment of silence, he nodded and added, “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” 

Jake turned to look up at your face, his heart stabbed by the image of how calm and rested you looked laying there. He should have been celebrating. He was the first to get promoted among the Dagger Squad. Cyclone seemed to think that he had a long and successful career in the Navy ahead of him. 

But why did it have to come at the cost of the biggest moments of his personal life? Ones that he would not be able to get back if he missed them. 

“Let’s just keep it between us for right now,” Jake whispered to your bump. “I'll break it to your mom slowly, okay?”

Standing up, Jake leaned over and slowly removed your shoes in an effort to make you more comfortable. There wasn’t much else that he could do without moving you and risking waking you up. So, he got up, changed, and moved to start making dinner. He knew that you would probably be starving when you woke up.

Jake was in the middle of stirring the sauce when he heard you move. Looking over his shoulder at you, Jake removed the pan from the heat and walked over to you as you sat up, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Jake sat on the coffee table in front of you as you glanced out the window, noting the setting sun.

“What time is it?” you yawned.

“Not too late. I’m making dinner,” Jake replied, causing you to smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock, apparently,” you mused, sitting up more. “My back’s going to kill me in a few hours, I know it.” 

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll just shower,” you stated, moving to get up. 

Jake offered you his hands and you let him help you up. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you turned and headed for the bathroom. You returned a few minutes later, dressed in one of his shirts and a loose pair of shorts, as Jake was placing a healthy portion of food on a plate for you. 

“Thank you,” you told him softly as he handed you a fork. “How was work?” 

“Fine,” he responded, his voice low. 

“Just fine?” you asked, dropping your voice low in an attempt to match his own. “You know that makes me think that something bad happened.” 

“Well, something did happen,” Jake stated, causing you to set down your fork. When you looked up at him expectantly, he continued, “I got promoted. You’re looking at Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” 

“Oh, Jake,” you praised, getting up from your seat. Walking around the island, you pulled him in for a tight hug. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You deserve it. You’re an amazing aviator,” you replied, releasing him from your hug. You pressed a loving kiss to his lips before smiling up at him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He nodded and gave you another kiss, lingering, and promising more later before pulling back. Resting his forehead against your own, he cupped your bump, gently rubbing his hands over your belly.

As if it was going to be the last perfect moment that the three of you were going to share. 

“Thank you.”

You retook your seat and the two of you chatted some more. You were in the middle of telling him about the crazy lady who called your office earlier when you remembered the weird envelope. 

“And something came in the mail,” you stated, getting up again. Jake watched you curiously, a little confused. You grabbed the blue envelope and returned to the island, holding it out for Jake to take. “It’s from your mom, I think.”

The sharp clatter of Jake’s fork against his plate caused you to wince. 

Studying Jake’s expression, you frowned. Your boyfriend’s warm and comfortable demeanor was gone in a flash and now he was staring at the envelope in your hand like it was a stick of dynamite that he only had three seconds to diffuse before it blew up in both of your faces. 

“Jake?”

“I’ll take it,” Jake replied firmly, taking the envelope from your grip. 

You watched as he walked around and tossed it into the trash, ignoring your incredulous expression. He closed the trash can and returned to his seat, as if nothing ever happened. 

“Jake,” you stated, a bit scolding with your tone. “What the hell?”

You were tired of just pretending like it didn’t bother you that he didn’t share anything about his past with you. You let it slide what felt like a thousand times in the name of keeping the peace and keeping Jake comfortable. Especially when he just shut down and acted out like this at the drop of a hat. Frankly, it scared you, how quickly he could just change.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jake,” you stated more firmly as you walked to the trash can. “Why are you just throwing it out?”

“Just leave it,” Jake grunted, not looking up. 

“Why?” you challenged him, opening the trash can. 

“Just drop it,” Jake replied definitively, still not meeting your gaze. 

“Jake, I’m not one of your ensigns. And you don’t get to order me around like one,” you snapped a bit, pulling the envelope out of the trash can. Tossing it onto the countertop in front of him, you stared Jake down. “Your mother sent you a card. Why is that causing you to shut down like this?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ve got enough to worry about and I don’t want to stress you out about it.”

“Can you stop using kiddy gloves with me?” you growled, folding your arms over your chest. “I’m pregnant. And ever since we told everyone, people have treated me differently. Acting like I’m weak, like I’m going to fly off the handle, or have some massive medical episode if they have a serious conversation with me. Just tell me, Jake. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“I’m not trying to treat you differently,” Jake defended himself. “There are just things that I don’t want to discuss.”

“Jake, we’ve pushed off this whole conversation for months now. And I would like to have it before the baby comes. And if not now, when?” you asked, him before pointing at the card in front of him. “Why is a little card causing your whole personality to change like this?”

“It hasn’t.”

“Then why can’t you even look at me right now?”

Jake turned to face you with an annoyed expression that made you grind your teeth together. The two of you had a bit of a staring contest before Jake sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t want to fight about something so stupid and stress you out unnecessarily—“

“—You avoiding this conversation is unnecessarily stressing me out,” you interjected, causing Jake’s expression to sour again. “Every time I try to learn about your past, you shut down. A switch just flips in your head and you’re not you anymore. And that terrifies me, Jake.”

“It shouldn’t,” Jake insisted stubbornly. 

“Well, it does,” you snapped back at him. “I mean, if our baby asks you about your parents in a few years, are you going to shut down then? Are you going to storm off? Are you going to yell at them?”

“That’s not fair,” Jake growled, turning back to you. 

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not. Don’t bring the baby into it.”

“Jake, the baby is the whole reason why we’re here,” you stated, causing his expression to shift again. 

“So, you never would have actually wanted to be in a relationship with me if I didn’t get you pregnant?”

“That’s not what I said, Jake," you snapped back at him.

“Then what are you trying to say?” Jake asked, annoyed as he stood up. “That I wasn’t worth the trouble of telling your brother and Maverick that you’re your own person if I didn’t get you pregnant? That I was only worth it when you had to deal with me?”

“So you get to bring my family into this conversation but I had to learn your mother’s name from an envelope that you would have thrown out if I didn’t see it first?” you shot back at him. “And it’s not my fault that you and my brother and Mav had shit go down before I even moved to San Diego.”

“I’m not saying that it’s your fault,” Jake stressed. "But I'm getting really fucking tired of having to prove myself to them. Nothing I do is ever going to be good enough for them, would make me good enough for you in their eyes."

"What did they tell you?" you asked, frowning.

"Jesus Christ, what didn't they tell me? Your brother thinks I'm still going to walk out on you. That I'm going to be a shit father. Mav doesn't say anything but don't tell me that he doesn't have a plan to get rid of me," Jake stated, causing you to stare up at him with an expression like you didn't know what to do.

"I'll talk to them about it, Jake," you stated quietly, causing Jake to sigh and look away. "What?"

"Are you actually going to talk to them? Are you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you snapped, getting steadily annoyed.

“I’m just saying that your family isn’t perfect. And sometimes it feels like you need a reminder.”

“At least you know who my family is," you replied defensively. "I couldn’t tell you anything about your life prior to when my brother met you. And that’s weird, Jake!”

“Why do you care so much about it?” he pressed, causing your temper to flare up. 

“Because we’re having a baby together! And you’re making me feel like I’m insane for asking you questions about your past!”

“There are things that you don’t want to talk about, and I respect your boundaries. Why can’t you respect that I don’t want to talk about my parents?” Jake demanded, turning away from you. 

“Jake, I’m not asking for every little painful detail about your childhood. I’m just asking for an explanation for why you shut down like this when we talk about your family."

“Because my parents are assholes and I have no intention of talking to them ever again.”

“Why are you never going to talk to them again? Help me understand that, Jake,” you practically begged him for some kind of emotional depth. “I don’t understand, so help me, Jake. Because I would give a hell of a lot to have my parents back. What happened that made you feel this way? What happened that made you feel that cutting them out of your life was the only way to protect yourself?”

“I’m trying to protect you and our baby at this point,” Jake replied after a few moments. 

“Why do we need protection from your parents?”

“Because they’re snobby assholes who would never consider you part of their family. And I know that you’ve built up this image of our kid having loving family on both sides and grandparents to spoil them, but that’s not going to happen. My family isn’t going to want anything to do with you or the baby regardless of anything that you do.” Jake shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Is that a good enough explanation for why I don’t want to talk about my parents?”

“It’s a start,” you stated, causing Jake to scoff and shake his head, turning away from you.

“Is everything fair game now?” Jake muttered sarcastically, earning a glare from you. 

“What have I ever kept from you, Jake?” you asked calmly, glaring over at him. "Really, what do you want me to tell you about?" 

“Why’d you break off your engagement to Connor?” Jake asked bluntly, causing you to stare at him incredulously. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?”

“No,” Jake returned, causing your temper to raise quickly again. “If you broke up with a guy that you were with, got engaged to, after five years together and your family seemed to love, adore, and respect the guy, what’s keeping you here with me? Besides the fact that I knocked you up.”

Grinding your teeth together, you took a breath to settle yourself. You turned back to Jake, who waited expectantly for your response. Your mind made up, you straightened, and stared him down.

“I broke up with Connor because he was an asshole who kept things from me because he felt that I didn’t deserve to know them, even though we were getting married, belittled me when I tried to call him out on it, and made me feel like shit because he knew that I loved him, and he took advantage of that to keep me there.” You paused for a moment, your lips wobbling a bit, before you added harshly, “But I’m really fucking glad that I learned from that mistake.”

Jake’s annoyed expression broke, but you didn’t stand around to watch it fall. Turning on your heel as tears started to gather in your eyes, you walked away from him. Grabbing your phone, purse, and keys, you moved to slip your shoes on as Jake walked over to you. 

“Where are you going?”

“This is your apartment. So, I’m going to get some air.”

“You shouldn’t be driving when you’re upset," Jake insisted, a bit frantic as he gently reached for your arm.

“I can take care of myself, Jake,” you snapped, pulling your arm out of his grip. 

“But you’re pregnant.”

“Congratulations, Seresin, you have eyes.”

“Wait—”

You turned and shot him a look that made his blood turn cold. Reaching for the doorknob, you yanked it open harshly and stepped out into the hallway. 

“Don’t follow me.”

The door slammed shut behind you, causing Jake to wince and lower his head. 

~~~~~

Maverick was sitting on his couch, watching a baseball game when his phone started to buzz. Rolling over, he raised an eyebrow when he saw that Jake was calling him. Answering it, he held his phone to his ear. 

“Jake?”

“Mav,” Jake returned, his tone sounding off. 

“Something wrong?” When Jake didn’t reply immediately, Maverick sat up, concerned, and alert. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“No. We . . . we had a fight and she stormed off and she’s not answering my calls and I’m pretty sure that she never wants to see or talk to me ever again, but I need someone to go and look for her and make sure that she’s okay,” Jake rambled, starting to get more and more hysterical as he went on.

And Maverick only felt his concern grow when he heard the emotion in Jake’s voice. Hangman was never the type to panic. Maverick had seen other members of the Dagger Squad panic in the air and on the ground, even just for a few seconds, but never Hangman.

If Jake was freaking out, Maverick was going to freak out.

“And I didn’t know who else she would turn to and I didn’t even want to think about calling Rooster—”

“—No, I can handle it,” Maverick agreed, walking over to the door. Sliding on his jacket, Maverick adjusted the phone in his hand as he reached for his keys. “Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

“What set her off in the first place?” 

“We were talking about my family.”

Maverick knew that wasn’t the whole story and that Jake was probably avoiding saying specifics to keep Maverick on the phone, but he didn’t press it. You were out there somewhere, alone, upset, and pregnant and that was Maverick’s priority. He could deal with whatever set the whole situation off in the first place once you were found safe and sound. 

“She took her car?”

“Yes.”

“What direction did she head in when she left?”

“She’s heading towards base or you or Rooster.”

“Alright, well . . .” Maverick trailed off when he saw your car pull into his driveway. 

“What?”

“She’s here,” Maverick stated, hanging his keys up.

Sliding his jacket off his shoulders, Maverick paused for a moment, thinking about what else to say to Jake. Was Maverick shocked that the two of you had a fight that resulted in one of you storming off? No, not really. But he needed the facts. And he first and foremost needed to know that you were okay.

As did Jake.

“I’ll make sure that she and the baby are safe. You don’t have to worry about them here.”

“Thank you,” Jake croaked out quietly. 

The two men stood on the line in silence, both knowing that there were more conversations to be had, but both also knowing that their priorities were elsewhere at the moment. 

“I’ll call or text you if she’s ready to talk to you.”

“Alright,” was all Jake replied. 

“Bye, Jake.”

Maverick hung up the phone and opened the door, taking a step out as you slowly walked down the path from the driveway. Tears had already dried on your cheeks and fresh ones appeared in your eyes when you saw Maverick waiting for you. After a moment, you broke down and Maverick rushed forward, gathering you in his arms and quickly leading you inside the house. 

“Jake and I had a fight,” you cried as Maverick closed the door behind you.

“It’s going to be alright.”

~~~~~

Jake sat with just the kitchen light on, giving him just a little bit of light to see. Looking at the blue envelope on the coffee table with his mother’s scrawl written on it, Jake slowly picked it up. Ripping the envelope open, Jake pulled out a simple card like the ones that people would buy in a store.

It was a simple card that just helped destroy your relationship. 

Opening the card, Jake paused when he saw the cartoon baby on the left side of the card. With his heart beating harder in his chest, Jake turned to read the paragraphs that his mother wrote to him.

Jake,

I hope that this card finds you somehow, unlike my other messages. I miss you, sweetheart, and hope that you’re being safe flying around and not pushing limits like you usually do. Though I guess you get that from your father. He asks about you still. I know that the two of you have your differences, but maybe this new phase of life that you’re entering will change your perspective a little bit. 

I heard that you’re having a baby with a girl out in California. I hope that everything’s going well with her and that she and the baby are healthy. And that you’re getting married, which is the right thing to do. And I hope that the two of you love each other and your child with everything in your hearts. 

I’d love to meet her, Jake. And give her a beautiful gift. She’s the mother of my grandbaby and if you love her, I love her too, honey. You’re going to be a wonderful father. I hope you have a strong, sweet little boy to carry on the Seresin name. 

I haven’t told your father about what I heard, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t heard it. Please, honey, call me. The number’s the same. I just want to talk.

Love,

Mom

Jake set the card down and held his head in his hands for a moment. His mind was racing and his hands were starting to shake. There was too much going on and he had control over too little of it for him to feel calm and collected. He felt like the world was spinning and he was just getting thrown around. 

Angrily tossing the card away, Jake got to his feet and stormed off, heading down the hall to his bedroom. But when he stepped inside and saw your pregnancy pillow there, mocking him, a batch of hot, frustrated tears slipped down his cheeks. 

Dropping to his knees, Jake slammed his fist onto the carpeted floor, before holding his head in his hands and breaking down. 

~~~~~

You laid on your side in Maverick’s spare bedroom, staring out the window. You were in no emotional state to go back to see Jake and talk about your fight and you didn’t want to make it worse. Maverick told you to stay as long as you needed, and you were taking him up on his offer. You told him not to tell anyone else about what happened for now and he agreed. And after giving you some dinner and a thousand pillows, Maverick left you alone with your thoughts. 

Looking out the window, you rubbed your hand down your bump, hoping that you’d at least feel your baby move tonight. But when they didn’t move like normal, you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped your lips nor the tears down your cheeks. 

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[krirebr]

More Than This 2

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, no noncon but some fear of it, excessive alcohol use, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part One

Masterlist

A/N: Another part already??? This one has just been flowing right out of me. It occurs to me that I should probably explicitly state that this will have a happy ending! Possibly very far in the future, but it will happen!! 😂😭

Huge thanks again to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and letting me know when I was on the right track.

Visual references for the ring and dress can be found here.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Despite your best efforts, the next three weeks went by in a blink.

The engagement ring arrived the day after your disastrous dinner with Ransom. It was beautiful—a round diamond with a smaller sapphire on each side, set in swirling filigree. You wondered who picked it. Certainly not Ransom. Probably someone’s assistant. It felt like fire around your finger.

You’d packed up the small apartment you loved so much. Sorting everything into what you would bring and what would be put into storage – the latter category was much bigger. You sat in your living room, surrounded by boxes, and cried, with Steve beside you and Lola nervously shaking in your lap. 

Your mother took you to pick your dress. She sat on the plush couch in the appointment-only boutique and sipped champagne while you tried on dress after dress that the attendants brought you. Her favorite was an ivory satin ballgown with off-the-shoulder short sleeves, a bow at the bottom of the back, and a very wide skirt. She cried when you put it on. You told her it was your favorite too, because you just didn’t have it in you to have an opinion.

 The Thrombey clan came into town the week before the wedding. Their time was mostly spent in meetings with Joseph and his team. Meeting the new extended family was to be left for the wedding festivities.

You hadn’t heard a word from Ransom. You’d thought of texting him a few times but couldn’t see the point in it. He’d made his feelings on you and your upcoming marriage clear. Any added effort would just be torturing yourself.

Then, suddenly, the rehearsal dinner was passing without incident. It was a catered affair, held at your parents’ house. Despite being one of the two nominal guests of honor, aside from the initial introductions, you were mostly ignored, as business remained the topic at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Ransom was there, of course, seated next to you, even, but he did his best to avoid you. You were torn between intense relief for the moment and absolute terror for what it meant for your future. When you noticed him quietly ducking out, you took the opportunity to leave as well, hoping most people would think you’d absconded together. The thought made you laugh bitterly.

You spent your last night of freedom snuggled up with Lola in Steve’s guest room. You barely slept.

Now, you sat in a plush robe in front of the vanity in the large hotel suite that sat several floors above the event hall you’d be getting married in in just over one hour. Steve sat sentinel in an armchair near you, already in his tux. People had been coming in and out all day – manicurists, aestheticians, makeup artists, hairstylists, your mother until she’d gotten called away for the pictures they didn't need you for. The female members of Ransom’s family too. His aunt, Joni, had only been in briefly, saying that the energy of the room was all wrong and she’d had to leave. Her daughter Meg had sat with you for a while, but she just kept complaining about how awful Ransom was and Steve eventually kicked her out, probably trying to spare you a panic attack. And then there was Ransom’s mother, Linda. She had been in a few times ‘to check on the progress.’ You’d tried very hard not to get stressed out by her, but she was very… severe, and you felt about a foot tall every time she looked at you. And now here she was, again.

“Darling,” she said, and you tried not to balk at the fact that you’d know this woman for less than 24 hours and she was already using endearments, “you’ll be needed for pictures soon and you aren’t dressed yet?”

You gestured to the two people at the rolling clothing rack who were carefully removing your dress from the garment bag. “We’re about to start putting it on. I’ll be ready soon.”

“Fantastic. Maybe it’s time for Steve to go then,” she cut a glance to your stepbrother.

“Not fucking likely,” he muttered. He’d been stuck to you like glue all day.

Linda’s eyebrows crawled up to her hairline. “I just think that some people might find it inappropriate for you to be in here while your sister gets dressed.”

He stood up and took a step toward her. “I’ll turn around,” he growled.

“Steve,” you sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t. You wouldn’t be, but none of that could be helped.

He looked at you carefully, his eyes flitting over your face. Finally, he nodded, “OK. I’ll see you out there then.” With a quick, reassuring touch to your arm, he left. 

Linda watched him leave and once he was out the door, she turned to you and said, “You and your stepbrother are very close, aren’t you?”

Something about her tone made you incredibly wary. “Yes,” you said cautiously, “he’s my best friend.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” she said with a thin-lipped smile that made it clear she thought anything but. 

You noted her reaction as you returned her smile and removed your robe. You let the attendants help you step into the dress where they’d pooled it on the floor. They pulled it up around you and you stood still as they fastened and arranged the dress on you. All under Linda’s watchful eye, her arms crossed over her chest. When it was all done and you’d stepped into your heels, you turned to her so that she could give the approval you could feel she was dying to give.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” she said. Just as you were about to thank her, she added, “Although, I suppose it would be hard not to be, with all these people working on you, huh?” Her tone was warm and friendly, but you took it as the cut down you knew she meant it to be. 

Still, you smiled. “Well, we should probably get down there, shouldn’t we?”

Everyone oohed and aahed appropriately when you arrived at the courtyard space reserved for photographs. Your mother was crying again. Joseph smiled at you, possibly the warmest smile he’d ever given you, and said “Beautiful,” but it was less like a compliment and more confirmation that everything was the way he needed it to be, like he was commenting on furniture. You smiled anyway and thanked him, then moved where the photographers directed you. 

This round of pre-ceremony pictures was reserved for the families. Ransom had already done his and then been dismissed, to ‘preserve the big reveal’ you were told. You’d been asked earlier if you wanted to do first-look photos and declined. That had been interpreted as you wanting to have the big moment when you walked down the aisle to him. Instead, you just knew that he wouldn’t give them the reaction they were looking for. You’d rather spare yourself that embarrassment. 

The thing about these arrangements was that while they were all about business and everyone knew it, people still wanted the trappings of romance. The big wedding at a fancy venue, awe on the groom’s face when he saw the bride in her dress for the first time, a joyful reception with speeches about true love. It had made you roll your eyes when you’d gone to friends’ weddings, but now that it was your own, it all made you want to scream. 

You posed with Linda and Ransom’s father, Richard, a benign smile on your face. And then it was Harlan’s turn. “You look absolutely lovely,” he said to you, kindly. “You’re going to be so good for my grandson.” You responded with that same placid smile. You wondered if anyone had told Ransom that he was going to be good for you. You doubted it. That part didn’t seem to matter.

Next, it was time for your own family. Your mother and Joseph, together and then separately, and then Steve joined you for the full family. Once that was done, the photographers started to dismiss you, but you stopped them. “I want a few with just me and Steve.”

They looked at you and then Joseph and Linda, “That’s not on the list of required shots.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “I want them.”

“Darling,” Linda started, and you wanted to growl, “I’m not sure there’s time.”

“I don’t care,” you said again, “everyone can wait the five minutes this is going to take. I’m the bride, I doubt they’ll start without me. Isn’t today my day?”

Linda took a step back and nodded to the photographers but you could feel her watching you as Steve stepped up to you. “And people think I’m the troll,” he said, low enough for only you to hear. 

You smiled, possibly your first genuine smile all day. “You are the troll,” you said. “I’m the sweet one who does what she’s told without complaint.”

He snorted, “Sure,” and turned his head as the photographers directed. 

When it was all done, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself as everyone but you and Steve began to make their way back inside.

“You ready?” he asked, concern all over his face.

You shook your head. “Not even remotely.”

He looked over your shoulder. “I know–” he began but stopped for a moment before he started again. “I know that if she had lived, we never would have met, but I still think, sometimes, about how much my mom would have loved you. Just as much as I do.”

“Steve,” you gasped.

He grabbed both of your hands. “You are the strongest, bravest person I know and you can do this.”

Your eyes welled up as you squeezed his hands, feeling like you’d completely fall apart if you let go. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said, oh so gently, “all you have to do right now is get through the ceremony. That’s it. You don’t need to think about what comes after. Focus on what’s directly in front of you. Nothing else. Just walk down the aisle and say I do when it’s your turn. That’s it. You can do that. I know you can do that. I wish you didn’t have to, but you can.”

 You took a deep breath. And another. And then you nodded. “I can.”

He smiled, big and genuine and still more than a little sad. He pulled you in for a hug, exceedingly careful to not mess anything up, and said again, “You can. I know you can.”

Someone stepped out of the big French doors leading into the vestibule your party was gathering in and waved frantically at you. Another deep breath. “OK,” you said.

He just nodded and guided you back inside.

Joseph walked you down the aisle. It wasn’t your choice, but this day had always been more about him than it ever was about you, so of course he would be the one to walk you. You would have chosen Steve. But you also would have chosen not to do this at all. 

The walk was both agonizingly long and much, much too short. Ransom waited for you at the end of it, dressed in a designer tux and devastatingly handsome. You searched his face for anything, but he remained completely stoic, his eyes hard. You had to look away.

There were so many people gathered to watch your life change forever. As you gazed over the faces of the people seated on your side, you weren’t sure you recognized even half of them. You realized with a jolt that this was the most alone you’d ever felt, in this hall surrounded by hundreds of people, all eyes on you.

So much sooner than you were ready for, you’d arrived at the front, Joseph placing you in front of Ransom and joining your hands together. Ransom’s hands were soft and his grasp wasn’t nearly as harsh as you’d expected. You took a deep breath—every other thought since you’d stepped into the hall was to remind yourself to keep breathing—and met his gaze. It was still hard, but, maybe, maybe there wasn’t hate there.

Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell. 

The ceremony went quickly. You struggled to focus on the officiant’s words. It was like you were in a sort of fugue state. But you repeated after him when you were supposed to. You said ‘I do’ when you were prompted. You played your part.

Ransom did too. You’d half expected him to just not show up at all, or walk out part-way through, or something but he was under the same familial pressures as you, you reasoned. At the end of the day, you all just did what you were told.

Before you knew it, it was done. There was a ring on your finger and one on his. You barely remembered placing it there. You registered the officiant saying “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” and stared at Ransom. You expected him to swoop in and take what was his, but he paused. There was a clear question in his eyes. Shocked, you realized he was asking permission. As subtly as you could, you nodded. He gave a barely perceptible nod back and then he was kissing you. It wasn’t chaste, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t passionate either. Open-mouthed, but no tongue, and done quickly, the faintest taste of whiskey on his lips. Everyone applauded.

   The processional music started and you began to move without even realizing it, Ransom right beside you. And in that moment, when you had nothing else to focus on, no other immediate job to do, everything hit you. Holy fuck, you were married. This man beside you was your husband. One of your knees buckled and your steady leg caught the edge of your dress and just as you were sure you were about to go down, someone grabbed your hand and you felt another hand on your opposite hip, holding you up. “Wait to collapse in private, if you can,” Ransom murmured to you, dryly, then basically carried you the rest of the way down the aisle. 

You were both ushered into a small sitting room off the main hall for a moment of privacy as your guests were moved into the ballroom where the reception would take place and before you would take pictures with your new husband. Once the two of you were alone, you tried to steady your breathing and shove down the panic clawing its way up your throat. You were married. It had actually happened. It was real. You steadied yourself on the bookshelf beside you and tried to think about what Steve had said. Focus on what was directly in front of you. You’d gotten through the ceremony by doing that, so now it was just pictures and the reception. That was all you had to worry about. You could do that. You could.

“You good?” Ransom’s voice cut through your internal monologue and you turned back around to face him where he was standing on the other side of the small room, pasting that fucking smile on your face. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Today is just a lot. But I’m fine. Thank you for helping me, before.”

“Well,” he smirked, “I couldn’t have my new wife embarrass me thirty seconds in, could I?”

Your smile went brittle and a small voice in your head chanted fifty years of this but you tamped it down. Pictures and the reception. Pictures and the reception. That was all you had to get through right now.

There was a light knock and then the door opened. One of the photographers peeked in, a camera in their hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said. “Just wanted to get some intimate, candid shots, before we go outside for the formal pictures.” Their eyes moved between you and Ransom and you knew they were measuring the space between you.

You shook your head and tried to keep your tone friendly. “No need, just the formal ones are fine.” You didn’t need any more documentation of this day than was absolutely necessary. 

“Oh,” they said, surprised, “well, Mrs. Drysdale wanted–”

“Linda can fuck right off,” Ransom interrupted. “We’ll come outside now.” He shouldered his way past them and out the door. You just smiled and followed him, the photographer chasing after you both.

The pictures went quickly, you both seeming to want them over with as fast as possible. He didn’t say much to you, aside from the occasional exclamation like, “Jesus Christ, is this skirt big enough?” when he tried to move around you or pose behind you. The photographers kept trying to get you to look at each other, but when you did, it clearly didn’t give them the result they wanted, so they moved on quickly.

Afterward, you were escorted into the ballroom, where your entrance was met with applause. Your face was beginning to hurt from all the placid smiling you’d done all day. 

You blanched when you realized that you and Ransom were the only ones seated at the head table. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. 

There was still some time before dinner would be served. You could already see people beginning to make their way toward you to offer their congratulations to fill the time. A server appeared at your table and you asked for a glass of champagne. Ransom requested his usual scotch then added, “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you make sure I’m never holding an empty glass tonight.”

You could see the disaster waiting to happen, so you tried a quiet “Ransom,” as the server left, not really thinking before you said something.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “If that’s the kind of wife you’re going to be, let me tell you right now, this marriage isn’t going to work. I don’t respond well to nagging.”

You took a breath, “I wasn’t trying to nag,” you said, “I just–”

“Ransom!” a loud voice interrupted you. You looked over to see Ransom’s uncle, Walt, approaching your table. You’d been introduced to him very briefly the night before. “Congratulations on finally growing up and settling down,” he said, once he stood in front of his nephew. You felt Ransom stiffen next to you, but his face just had an obnoxious smirk on it. Walt’s eyes briefly cut to you but then returned to Ransom. “Although, she’s pretty young, isn’t she?”

Ransom rolled his eyes, still smirking. “Well, it’s not like I picked her, is it Walt? You got a problem with it, go tell Mom or Grandad.” 

You bit your lip at being spoken about like you weren’t sitting right there. But you knew better than to cause a scene, so you quietly said, “Excuse me,” and left the table. Neither of them seemed to notice, locked in a hostile stare-down.

You’d only made it a few feet when someone you didn’t recognize was pulling you aside to offer their congratulations. You smiled and politely nodded through it and when it was done you were grabbed by someone else and then someone else. You crossed paths with Steve briefly before you were both pulled in other directions. You only got a break when they started serving dinner. You got back to your seat to find Ransom sitting alone, sipping his scotch as full plates of food were placed before you. You didn’t have much of an appetite.

You picked at your food and mostly moved it around the plate, while Ransom ate hungrily beside you. Neither of you said anything. After the second course was served, the speeches started. Joseph mostly spoke about the two families coming together and all the opportunities that represented. You wanted to stage whisper to him that it was customary to at least mention the couple at some point, but then he sprinkled Ransom’s name in. A brief mention of how proud he was to be gaining a son like him. You wanted to laugh. They barely knew each other. As if Joseph cared at all about what kind of man he was giving you to. You were finally mentioned at the very end as he toasted his “beautiful stepdaughter and her new husband. To a long and fruitful marriage!” You wanted to break something.

Harlan, for his part, was much more focused. He, of course, referenced all the new opportunities this would bring, it was why you were all here, after all. But he mostly talked about his grandson, how much he loved him, all the potential Ransom had, and once again, how good you were going to be for him. You wondered if you just started screaming right there, what people would do. 

As for Ransom, judging by his body language, he seemed to enjoy both speeches just as much as you had. You wondered if the rest of the guests could feel how miserable you both were and just chose to ignore it. Probably.

When the speeches were done and the tables were cleared, it was time for your first dance. Ransom made it clear by the way he stood up that this was the last thing he wanted to be doing. You tried not to let it bother you, it wasn’t like you were especially excited about this either, and kept your head held high as you came around the table to join him. He took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor and you were once again surprised by the way he held it gently when you’d half-expected him to drag you out there.

You hadn’t chosen whatever song you were about to dance to. You could’ve, probably, but you’d begged off of most of the decision-making for the day, unable to drum up an opinion on any of it. So you had no right to complain as the opening strains of “At Last” filled the ballroom, but you had to stifle an eye-roll anyway. Of course, they went for something that romantic, that cliche. They were all lucky you didn’t burst out laughing.

Ransom pulled you in close with a hand on your lower back, as you put one of yours on his shoulder and he took your other hand in his. It all felt strangely respectful, the way his hand didn’t wander from the small of your back and he held you close but not too close, with plenty of breathing room between you. You weren’t sure how to wrap your head around it, what it all meant.

He was a good dancer, most likely the product of formal dance lessons as a teenager, just like you’d had. It made it easy to keep your polite smile in place as all eyes in the room were on you.

“You’re good at that,” Ransom said.

You shrugged. “A variety of dance classes since I was seven.”

He chuckled. “No, I meant the smiling thing.” When you just looked at him, confused, he continued. “Unless you’re much dumber than I think, you hate this just as much as I do. But look at you, that smile hasn’t dropped all fucking day. You’re having such a nice time, aren’t you? Being the good girl they all expect you to be. Can’t ever let them know you’re upset. Oh no, that just isn’t done.”

You nearly tripped, but you had the good grace to keep going. You kept your face pleasant to everyone watching as you gritted out “And what am I supposed to do instead, huh? Glower and glare because I didn’t get what I wanted? Be an asshole to everyone? And where exactly would that get me? We’re both here, Ransom, stuck in this. At least my way of dealing with it doesn’t make anyone else’s life more difficult.”

He chuckled again. “No one’s but mine,” he said, but instead of just irritation, there was a glimmer in his eye, too, that you couldn’t begin to interpret. It was almost like part of him was having fun. 

The song ended, fading into the next, and more couples joined you on the dance floor. Keeping your hand in his, Ransom led you back to the table, depositing you there and grabbing his drink, before disappearing amongst the tables. 

Ransom didn’t come back. You'd stayed at the table for a bit, for want of anything else to do. When you got bored of that, you wandered through the crowd, accepting congratulations and trying to find familiar faces. You knew there were a few of your own friends in attendance, but you were afraid to face them, knowing you’d see pity on the faces of the luckily single and recognition on those who were already married. You wouldn’t see much of them anymore anyway, with you leaving for Boston the next day. You couldn’t think about that yet. Focus on what’s in front of you.

You were periodically offered champagne from a passing server and you accepted every time, leading to you now feeling pleasantly floaty. It was a nice break from just how very much you’d been feeling the rest of the day.

You arrived back at your seat, without really intending to, to find Steve waiting for you. He was staring into the corner of the room with a disgruntled expression. “I could fucking kill him,” he mumbled.

You followed his gaze and found Ransom with a group of Harvard-looking bros doing shots by the bar. You shrugged. “He’s getting drunk over there and I’m getting drunk over here,” you said as you downed your champagne and began looking around for a server. 

Steve sighed your name. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

He guided you to a chair and then sat down beside you. “Where’d you get off to?” you asked.

Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. “Dad,” was all he said. You nodded. For all that he wasn’t in your situation, as his father’s heir, he had many heavy responsibilities and obligations weighing on him. You were both caged in by this family.

“Does that mean you’re speaking to him again?” you asked, your voice free of judgment.

Even so, he grimaced. “Only when I have to.” He sighed and looked at you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Steve,” you said, sincerely.

He shook his head. “It’s not.” He paused, then, “I wish there’d been a way for me to stop this.”

“Steve,” you sighed. It wasn’t worth talking about again.

Over by the bar, Ransom let out a loud, hearty laugh that carried over to where you were sitting. Steve glared. “You don’t deserve this,”

You shrugged. “It’s what I have, I guess.” Then before he could continue the conversation, you added, “Can we please talk about anything else?”

He looked at you carefully and then nodded. “Sure,” he said, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear, and then launched into a twenty-minute explanation of the painting he was working on. You didn’t think you’d ever been more grateful for him. And you hadn’t even thought to ask a server for more champagne. 

The conversation only ended when your mother appeared in front of you. Steve stood up to greet her, smiling warmly, and then excused himself, squeezing your hand as he went.

“Honey, we’re going to go. I just wanted to make sure I said goodbye to you first.”

You stood up and hugged her. “You’ll be there to send us off tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, honey, no. Joseph had something come up and you know how hard it is for me to get around by myself.”

You felt the bottom drop out of everything. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”

“Of course, I am, darling. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

Suddenly, only focusing on what was directly in front of you was impossible. You were married to a stranger who couldn’t stand you. Tomorrow, you would be leaving everything you knew to go to a new home where you didn’t have anything or anyone. And your mom wouldn’t even be there to say goodbye.

“Steve would come to get you, you know he would,” you tried desperately.

“Honey, no, I can’t,” she said firmly and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. “Now, come on,” she drew you into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Mom,” you whispered, your voice so thick. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Of course, you can,” she pulled back and looked you in the eye. “I know it seems hard, now, but it’ll be easier than you think to keep him happy.” She gently touched your cheek. “All you have to do is listen, and not argue too much. You’re going to be such a good wife and mother. I just know it.” 

She leaned forward to hug you again and you went stiff in her arms. Everything she’d gone through – two marriages that weren’t her choice, a husband that was so cold to her and her daughter, a lonely life. And here she was, offering you up for the same fate. You didn’t know how you were supposed to bear this.

“Have a safe flight,” she whispered in your ear and then she was gone. You didn’t watch her go. You just sank back into your chair, ready for the night to end. 

A while later, you heard someone call your name. You turned around to see Richard. “I think it’s time for Ransom to call it a night.” You followed Richard’s gaze to see Ransom slumped over in a chair. You almost asked him why he was telling you. Then you remembered that Ransom was your husband now. Your problem, your responsibility. You nodded to Richard and thanked him, smiling at him, of fucking course. 

When you got to Ransom, he looked up at you and laughed. “Well, if it isn’t the wife!” he slurred. “We were just talking about you.” You looked over at the men on either side of him, equally drunk, and tried not to feel too humiliated. 

The crowd was thinning, but there were still people around and you could feel their eyes on you, so you did your best to keep your tone and face calm. “Ransom, it’s time to go up to our room.” 

One of his companions snickered and you were suddenly struck by what might await you in that room. You’d been so focused on just getting through the next thing that you’d protected yourself from thinking about what he might want, what he might demand, once you were alone. But looking at him now, as he struggled to stand up or get any control over his body at all, you hoped that you might be safe for this night, at least. 

Steve appeared at your elbow. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbled, low enough that it didn’t seem to be for you. Then louder he asked, “You need help getting him up to the room?”

You turned to him to answer, but then you saw Linda over his shoulder, watching you both carefully. You shook your head. “No, you can’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll–” Ransom took that moment to fall loudly back into his chair. He was way too big for you to handle on your own. You sighed and looked around for anyone who might help. “I’ll get Richard to help me.”

Steve looked at you confused. “I can do it.”

“I know,” you said, “but I just can’t let you. It– The way it would look,” you shook your head again.

You could tell he still didn’t get it, but he let it drop. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow. And if you need anything between now and then,” he sent a scathing look to Ransom, “you call me.”

You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t, as he squeezed your wrist and left and you went to track down Richard.

After much struggle, you finally got Ransom into the honeymoon suite, Richard retreating as soon as his son was safely dumped into an armchair next to the bed. And then you were alone with him. You just stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Can you get yourself undressed?”

“ ‘fcourse,” he mumbled, then thrashed around in his tux jacket. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to still his wild movements, then tugged off the jacket. You carefully began unbuttoning his shirt, trying to touch him no more than absolutely necessary, but he still smirked at you. “That desperate to get me naked?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and tried to keep going, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Hey,” he said, very seriously. He tried to lock eyes with you, but his kept drooping, as he continued. “We don’t have to do anything t’night. Not if you don’t want.”

You scoffed. “Yeah?” you asked. “Is that you or your whiskey dick talking?” You regretted it immediately, you were so tired. You waited for the insult to land, to see how he’d react, but he’d stopped paying attention, his head lolling against the back of the chair. You finished with the buttons and kneeled in front of him to take off his shoes. When that was done, you stood back up. “Please tell me you can get your own pants.”

He nodded, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt, and stood up. He struggled with his belt for a few minutes, but eventually got it off, then pawed at his fly until he was able to undo that as well. As he moved to the bed, his pants slowly slid down his legs. You tried not to look at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Under any other circumstances, you would find him so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. How dare he look like that and treat you like this. Just another aspect of this whole fucking mess that made you want to cry.

He stumbled to the edge of the bed and then threw himself forward, collapsing onto it face down, lying across it diagonally. Almost immediately, he started snoring. You just stood there a moment, watching him take up the entire bed. Fuck. It was fine. It’s not like you were going to sleep much anyway. You tugged his pants the rest of the way off his legs and threw them onto the pile of the rest of his clothes. 

You turned your attention back to yourself and stopped, suddenly gripped by panic. You tried to reach behind yourself and begin unfastening your dress, but the line of delicate hook and eye fastenings was too difficult to get without being able to see them. And you couldn’t reach all of them anyway. Oh god, you were going to be stuck in your dress all night. 

There was no one to help you. Ransom was out like a light and would be too drunk and clumsy even if he were conscious. Your mom had gone home. You couldn’t call Steve. He would come help at the drop of a hat, but if anyone saw him coming into your room… No. You were completely alone.

Every feeling you’d tried to push down and ignore this whole awful day came bubbling to the surface. You finally cried, your body wracked with sobs. You couldn’t control it. As you did, you still tried to wrestle with your dress, but your panic and sorrow made getting out of it impossible. So you sank down to the ground and just let the tears come. 

When you were finally all cried out, you stood up and moved to the bathroom. You took off your makeup and took down your hair, redoing it in the way you always slept in. You brushed your teeth and finished up with your skincare routine. Then you went back into the bedroom and grabbed a blanket off the bed. You moved into the adjoining living room and sank down onto the couch, arranging your giant dress around you. You turned on the TV and settled on a marathon of some procedural crime show you were pretty sure you’d seen before. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted the night to go quickly.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @citronbun @ladyvenera @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle

[nina-ya]

Three Times You Tried to Confess to Sanji and The One Time That You Did

A/N: I wrote a similar thing for Law here!! Pairing: Sanji x Reader CW: Mild Zou and WCI spoilers in the first section. WC: 1210

Clutching the letter tightly in your hands, you wanted to express what your heart couldn't openly confess. The words written onto the paper were your unspoken declaration, a small piece of paper holding all of the feelings you held for the cook of the Straw Hat Pirates.

You carefully reviewed each line, making sure the content truly reflected your emotions. The air was thick with a mix of anticipation, longing, and anxiety. Carrot, your new friend, offered reassurance and support, reassuring you that your feelings have been properly expressed in the letter. After moments of contemplation, seeking comfort and determination in the bunny's encouragement, you finally decided to seek out Sanji, determined to offer this expression of your unvoiced affection.

You made your way across Zou, your steps filled with a sense of urgency and purpose, searching every nook and cranny, hoping to find Sanji. But to your dismay, you discovered that he had left. The news hit you like a sudden gust of cold wind, a cruel twist that left you reeling in disbelief and despair. And to add to the heartache, you overheard the news of Sanji's impending marriage. It was a bitter blow, a cruel irony that twisted the knife in your heart.

Tears streamed down your face, your emotions raw and uncontainable. The devastating realization, leaving you in an immense amount of anguish. The letter now felt like an unbearable burden. With trembling hands, and tears clouding your vision, you crumpled the letter, feeling the weight of your shattered hopes, and tore it to pieces. The shreds of your unspoken love fluttered to the floor, scattered remnants of your heart's confessions now reduced to a pile of shreds at your feet.

-

-

-

This time, you tried to take a more direct approach. You had planned your words, rehearsed your confession, and prepared yourself to finally confess your feelings for Sanji. You found him in the kitchen, in the middle of preparing dinner for the crew. The conversation started off casually, but as you attempted to lead into your confession, your nerves began to show, evident in your fidgeting and the trembling of your voice.

"Sanji, there's something I wanted to tell you," you began, your heart racing. His interest piqued, and he looked over at you, ready to hear what you had to say. However, in a cruel twist of fate, as you stepped forward, your elbow accidentally knocked over a pot of boiling water, causing the scalding water to spill onto your arm. Pain shot through you, and all thoughts of your confession dissipated instantly, replaced by the searing sensation now engulfing your arm.

Sanji's immediate concern was for your well-being. He rushed to your side, his worry evident, as he hurriedly tended to your burn, calling out for Chopper to assist. The intense pain and his genuine concern overshadowed any romantic confessions, leaving you both preoccupied with the physical injury and his genuine care for your well-being. The moment had been abruptly replaced by the urgent need to tend to your burn, the confession buried under the weight of unexpected physical pain.

-

-

-

What better way to confess your feelings to Sanji than through a meal? The plan was set, and it was to cook a nice dinner, ending with a special dessert that held a hidden message. You wrote the phrase "I love you" in melted chocolate on the dessert. Everything was unfolding perfectly. 

The dinner had gone well, the two of you savoring every bite, yourself being filled with anticipation for the dessert. Finally, the moment arrived, and you placed the dessert in front of Sanji, the plate concealed beneath a dome. He lifted the cover, revealing the sweet treat, and while his initial reaction indicated he found it visually appealing, it was far from the reaction you had hoped for.

Sanji complimented the dessert's appearance, but his response was far from what you had expected. Your heart sank as you leaned over to inspect your chocolate message, only to discover that it had melted, losing its distinct form. What was meant to be a declaration of love had transformed into an abstract, artistic scribble that was virtually indecipherable.

Behind a beaming smile that masked your disappointment, you watched as Sanji grew more eager to taste the dessert, oblivious to the hidden message. It seemed that fate had conspired to keep your feelings hidden for yet another day.

-

-

-

You stood there in the kitchen, a delicate bouquet of tulips clasped in your hands, each petal a silent symbol of the depth of your feelings for Sanji. The vendor had assured you that this bouquet was the perfect way to declare your love, even gifting you a book filled with the language of flowers. Your plan was set: presenting these flowers to Sanji would be your confession.

The day had seemed blissful, the earlier battles resolved, the air filled with the anticipation of revealing your emotions. You were waiting in the kitchen, the tulips held tenderly, ready to make your heartfelt gesture. But fate had other plans.

A call disrupted the tranquility, a frantic Usopp on the Den Den Mushi urgently relaying an unforeseen incident on the island. In that split second, the bouquet, the flower book, and other non-essential belongings slipped from your hands and onto the kitchen counter. Without hesitation, you sprinted out of the kitchen, the impending battle calling for your attention.

The flowers lay forgotten, as you rushed to join your crewmates on the island, focused on the imminent conflict. The confession you had longed to make would have to wait for another day. After all, in that moment, surviving to tell him of your feelings took precedence over all else. 

…

After the battle, the crew wearily made their way back to the ship. Upon boarding, Sanji immediately headed to the kitchen to prepare a comforting feast for everyone, a way to refuel both their bodies and spirits. As he stepped into the kitchen, his eyes landed on the bouquet of tulips.

Intrigued, Sanji approached the flowers, admiring their beauty and inhaling their sweet fragrance. Carefully, he took the bouquet into his hands, running his fingers over the soft petals. His attention was then drawn to a small tag attached to the flowers, bearing his name. He was taken aback, wondering, These are for me?

The sight of the flower language book nearby further deepened his curiosity. He flipped through its pages until he landed on the section dedicated to tulips. As he read the page, a realization began to dawn upon him. Tulips were a declaration of love. He furrowed his brow, his mind racing to identify who could have gotten him the tulips.

Then, his gaze fell upon the scattered belongings near the tulips. He recognized them as your belongings. A sudden revelation struck him. These tulips, the very flowers that symbolized a declaration of love, were from you.

A rush of emotions overwhelmed him.. He was left almost speechless, clutching the bouquet, his heart racing with the knowledge that you reciprocated his feelings. He could barely contain his happiness. Filled with a new sense of determination, Sanji marched out of the kitchen, eager to find you and to show you that your love did not go unheard.

[turcott3]

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

-

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

-

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

-

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

-

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

-

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

-

[birdiewriteslit]

. “there’s nothing to worry about! my family will love you.” with jack!

and maybe jack has never really brought anyone serious to introduce to his whole family but she doesn’t know that… but hsi whole family can quickly see how much jack loves her

“meeting the family”

jack hughes x f!reader

birdie’s 300 celly

i LOVE this and this is kinda short so lmk if you want a part 2!

Jack would never admit it to you, but he was a little nervous for you to meet his family, especially all of them all at once.

“Bring your girlfriend to the wedding,” they said. “We promise we won’t embarrass you,” they said.

He knew his brothers would intentionally embarrass him in front of you, and even though the others wouldn’t make that effort, he still had never brought a girl to anything like this before, especially not one that he liked so much, and he had no idea how they would react.

It was Jack’s cousin’s wedding, one that he wasn’t particularly close with, but was still related enough to be at the rehearsal dinner.

Jack sat beside you, his leg bobbing nervously under the table. You placed a soothing hand on his thigh as you made easy conversation with Luke.

You met his parents and brothers earlier, and you hit it off easily with them. His parents had already told him how much they loved you. You got along great with Luke and Quinn, but they weren’t the relatives he was worried about anyways.

“So, Jack, that fall you took on the ice last week, pretty brutal. What’d you think of that, Y/n?” asked one of Jack’s younger cousins mischievously.

“What fall?” you asked, glancing at Jack in confusion.

“Oh, you didn’t see it?” he grinned. “He was skating a little too fast, and I guess he just lost his balance.”

“You can barely skate, Johnnie. Call me when you get off that bench,” Jack combated.

You ignored him, stifling a laugh. “Jack, when did that happen?”

Jack sighed. “At the Rangers game you couldn’t make it to.”

“Well, I bet you were glad I didn’t see that.”

“I was,” Jack said, glaring at his cousin who just smiled innocently.

Luke snorted into the beer he was trying to steal from Quinn, who was distracted talking to a bridesmaid.

“Give that to me, you’re not legal,” said Ellen, grabbing the bottle from Luke and setting it back down in front Quinn before taking a seat beside Luke. “And be nice to your brother.”

“Sorry, mom,” Luke mumbled.

Jack took your hand from his thigh and interlocked your fingers under the table. He watched you as you conversed with his mother, and how easily you made his brother laugh.

Your eyes were bright and your smile was big. He’d never thought you looked so beautiful. He ran his thumb over your ring finger and smiled to himself. He knew it was too early and he was too young to be thinking about marriage, but in a setting like this, it was kind of hard not to.

When he looked up, tuning back into the conversation, he saw the look on his mother’s face and knew she had him all figured out.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling my brother a control freak?

My (24M) brother, L (31M), got married to a great woman last week (S, 34F). They had this big wedding where I was one of the groomspeople (it was a very gender weird wedding, the groomspeople and bridespeople were of any gender). This whole AITA is mostly in relation to me, L, and the man of honor (bride's best friend), M (22M).

I had heard a lot about M from S and that he was a pretty fun guy. I did not expect him to be off the wall hot. Literally the definition of tall dark and handsome. Someone should have kept me in the loop about this.

Anyway, we had been working on setting up the wedding together and getting to know each other, and it was pretty clear he was flirting with me, and I was more than happy to flirt back.

Though when it was time for the wedding and rehearsal dinner, he was barely talking to me. At the reception I asked him why he was avoiding me, and he seemed reluctant to tell me but then said that L had asked him not to talk to me. I pretty much told him "well, L can fuck off," and left the reception with his number and a promise for a date next week, seeing as we live in the same city.

I didn't wanna start shit at the wedding so yesterday I texted L and asked him why he told M not to talk to me.

Turns out that M has a reputation as, to put it plainly, a bit of a slut. He tends to sleep around a lot and doesn't manage to keep a partner for more than a few months. L told me that he didn't want me to get my heart broken by someone who only wanted me for sex, seeing as I'm not into casual hookups or short-term stuff (I have told him this in the past, he's not just guessing).

I told him that I'm not a child anymore, he's acting like a control freak, and that I can be friends with, date, or fuck who I want. He never responded but a few hours later S texted me and said I upset him.

M made no indication that he wanted this to be something fleeting. He seemed genuinely interested in me and I was genuinely interested in him. But I feel like I might be the asshole because L practically raised me since my dad sucks shit and it only makes sense that he'd be protective of me.

AITA for snapping?

What are these acronyms?

[strawberryspence]

belated happy birthday, @unclewaynemunson. this is so late already, but i had finals, so sorry for that. i am so very lucky to be able to call you my friend and even more lucky to be able to know you. i love you and that rat in your kitchen. 💜

-

Steve’s shaking. His hands won’t stop trembling and his knees are close to bucking in.

Which is— ridiculous. It’s just dinner with Uncle Wayne. Uncle Wayne.

The same man who also took him in when his parents finally kicked him out for being a “sinner” and for sleeping with one of “the devil’s soldiers.” The same man who took him to the hospital when his migraine got so bad, he begged for death. The same man who accepted his and Eddie’s relationship wholeheartedly and made them breakfast with raised eyebrows.

It’s just Wayne.

Steve doesn’t really know why he’s trembling with anxiousness when his knuckles finally make contact with the apartment door— the one Eddie and Steve got for him (after a very long time of pursuing and pushing because no matter how famous and rich Eddie gets, Wayne still thinks they should keep everything for emergencies). He deserves it after everything.

“Steve.” The door swings open, Wayne’s smile greeting him.

He’s older now. More wrinkles, more white hairs. He’s got a creak in his knees that Eddie keeps teasing him on. He’s still dressed in one of his hundreds of flannels, a sweater underneath it to shield him from the colder weather.

“Hi, Wayne.”

They hug for a while, say their hellos, ask how the other is doing (not like Steve doesn’t know, they just talked through the phone yesterday, just like every other day). Steve helps him set the table, just for the two of them. Steve doesn’t say anything when Wayne takes out the mac and cheese with crumbled bacon from the oven, Steve’s favorite Wayne delicacy, he only smiles and starts digging in to eat his nerves away.

“So…” Wayne starts, after a sliver of silence, a second after they talk about the latest basketball game and how Sinclair’s play was impressive on the latest game.

“Hmm?” Steve hums, chewing through the food like it’s his last meal on earth.

“Listen, I love having dinner with you, son. But I can’t help but notice that Eddie was not invited.” Wayne raises an eyebrow at him, and it takes him back to the morning when Eddie and Steve finally tell him that they’re dating.

“Oh. Uhm.” Steve straightens up. He can do this. He rehearsed his speech in front of the mirror and then in front of Nancy who changed a few things and then in front of Robin who gave him the green light.

“So as you know, Eddie and… I… well, we’ve been together for over ten years now. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now, and I know it’s not legal. I don’t know if it’s ever going to be, but I can’t wait any longer. Every day I don't get to call him my husband makes me— breathless. So, yes, I want to marry Eddie.” Steve announces firmly, before sputtering to follow it up, “With your permission and approval!”

Well… throw the whole speech out of the window then, damn.

Wayne blinks at him, hands crossing on his chest, as he watches Steve. It makes him nervous, activating his ramblings, “Eddie… Eddie is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I want to continue making him happy for the rest of my life. I know— I know I am not perfect, but I try my best every day. I will do everything and anything for that man, and I would never do anything to hurt him. He makes me a better person by just existing and he— Eddie— is the love of my life. But none of that matters without your approval, I can never marry him without your approval.”

They sit in silence for a second before Wayne stands up and disappears to his room. Steve sits still. That’s— that’s rejection, right? Should Steve just leave? Maybe he should clean the dishes before leaving?

Before Steve can even stand and start cleaning the plates, Wayne comes marching out of the room again.

He sits in front of Steve again, a soft smile on his face, “Listen, Steve. Eddie’s his own man. He always has been. But I appreciate you asking me for my permission, and I give it to you wholeheartedly.”

Wayne pushes a small box on the table, pushing it towards Steve.

“What’s this?” Steve whispers, astonished by the approval.

“Open it.” Wayne urges, as Steve lifts the box, popping the lid open.

A small gasp spills from Steve’s mouth. Inside the box is a beautiful silver engagement ring. There’s a garnet stone in the middle, surrounded and hugged by silver to accentuate the gem. Steve looks up at him, eyes wide.

“This is our gamma’s engagement ring. I am sure it’s older than that. But I got it back from my sister when she—“ Wayne pauses, grief still fresh even if it’s been almost 30 years, “— passed on. With Eddie’s preferences, I didn’t think it would be possible, so I kept it for safekeeping.”

Steve shuts the box as he starts shaking his head immediately, pushing the box back, “Wayne— I can’t— I don’t deserve—“

Wayne shakes his head, wrapping Steve’s hand on the box, “Steve, none of that nonsense. I’ve always seen you as a son, this just makes things official. It belongs to Eddie and I know he would love it, and I would love for you to use it.”

Steve stares at him as Wayne finally stands up, arms opening wide, “Well, come on. Give your father-in-law a hug.” Steve laughs, tears filling his eyes as he stands up to hug Wayne. How could he ever think this man would tell him no? Not when Wayne’s seen him as a son long before Steve even saw him as another dad.

Wayne tightens his arms around him, gently whispering, “You’ve always been part of this family, but still, welcome to the family, Steve.”

(And in a few weeks, when Steve finally goes on one knee, his heart in one hand and the ring on the other, Eddie will say yes. And Wayne will proudly watch his sons cry and laugh with happiness, give them two thumbs up, and a proud smile.)

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 19- Good Luck, and Goodnight

Summary: It's the night before your wedding at your rehearsal dinner. Things are prepped and ready for the big day tomorrow, everyone couldn't be happier for you and Javi, and if you were any more excited to marry your future husband, you're convinced you'll explode. Everything seems to be going perfectly, that is, until it's not.

Word Count: 12.5K (Lil Shawty for me tbh)

Warnings: SMUT(18+) unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big fat breeding kink, getting cockblocked by your dog (Sorry, Bear), mentions of death of family members, Javi putting his preemptive girl dad skills to the test (and passing with flying colors), mentions of anxiety/panic, lack of sleep due to said anxiety, Javi can't stop calling you Mrs. Peña and telling you how excited he is to get married, Javi once again setting the bar in the sky for all men

A/N: I am literally so sorry from the bottom of my heart this chapter has legit taken a month (January has kicked my ASS). I am so excited for their wedding, but I figured we'd get a little sneak peak before the big day arrives!! As if this series wasn't already self indulgent enough, I too, have been cockblocked by my own dog more times than I would like to count (please tell me I am not the only one), and got approximately 3 and a half hours of sleep the night before my wedding 🫠 (forever anxious girlies (gn) rise up!!!) ily each and every one of you so much, thank you for all your love and support 🥺💕

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Perfect. 

That was what your morning felt like as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, stretching your arms over your head to wake yourself to the vision of the bright, golden sunrise spilling through your curtains, casting towering shadows on your bedroom, soft July breeze floating through your open window. 

Birds singing their melodic morning songs, wind gently rustling the trees outside your window…

“Hhhhhhsssssmmmmmggggggggg” 

“Mmmmmmgggggghhhhhhhhhggg” 

…The sweet, synchronized snores of your future husband and dog snuggled next to you, still sound asleep as their bodies laid splayed across the better half of the bed with the majority of the comforter and sheets tangled between them, leaving you with a sliver of mattress and a tiny corner of blanket. 

Well, it was almost perfect. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your two favorite boys happily snoozing away as the world began to wake around them, pressing a soft kiss onto each of their heads before sleepily shuffling your way to the bathroom. 

You had barely made it two steps before Bear’s ears perked up, tail thumping against the mattress to see at least one of his favorite humans was awake, and better yet, able to feed him breakfast. He sprung off the bed, happily trotting behind you as he followed you to the bathroom, patiently sitting by the toilet as you peed, since you had quickly learned that personal space no longer existed after Bear had become a permanent member of your home. 

“Gimme a second, ya goof.” You smiled, laughing to yourself as you flushed, maneuvering around Bear’s big body to wash your hands before the two of you meandered to the kitchen, leaving Bear wagging and shaking in excitement as he sat by his bowl, wiggling even faster as he watched you dump his food into his dish and began to chow down. 

Leaving Bear to munch on his breakfast, you snuck your way back to the bedroom, softly closing the door behind you before crawling back into bed, sneaking through the sea of tangled sheets to find Javi’s body, his presence warm and inviting as you nestled up next to him. 

Your hands slid up his bare chest and over the broadness of his shoulders until your hands met his jaw, gently cupping the unshaven stubble of his cheeks, swiping your thumb back and forth against his scruff skin.

Javi’s body began to stir, his arms now wrapping around you to pull you on top of him, your stomach resting against his as he squeezed you against his body, making you erupt in sleepy giggles. 

“Good morning, sleepy head.” You whispered against his skin, planting soft kisses across his patchy beard while his eyes began to slowly flutter open, quickly joined by a tired grin growing between his cheeks. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Peña.” He rasped, his greeting making you pull back to see the boyish smirk plastered all over his face, the hands that had been resting on the small of your back slowly snaking their way down to your ass, and giving it a little squeeze. 

“Almost Mrs. Peña, you dork. One more day.” You giggled, your face growing warm at the realization that in 24 hours, that name would be your reality and your forever for the rest of your life. 

“Close enough.” Javi grinned, leaning up to press a soft kiss against your lips, practically feeling his sleepy smile against your mouth. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow. I can’t wait. I can’t wait for you to be my wife,” he pressed another kiss on your cheek, making you giggle, “I can’t wait to be your husband,” he paused, making you giggle even louder as he began trailing his lips down your neck, the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin, “to spend the rest of my life with you,” you squealed as Javi flipped you onto your back, your head landing on your pillows as he hovered over your body, gently tugging your oversized shirt over your stomach, letting his hand creep up your skin, “have a family with you, fuck a baby into you.” you could feel the subtle shift in his tone as his hand palmed at your breasts, kneading your soft flesh, making you let out a soft moan, whispering his name. 

You and Javi had agreed on two conditions in attempts to keep your ever growing baby fever somewhat at bay- One, you were married, and two, your new house was completely finished and ready to be moved into. Tomorrow, the first half of your agreement was about to be fulfilled, and with the second half only a few weeks away, the prospect of legitimately trying for a baby was on the horizon, the two of you had been absolutely insatiable about the idea. 

“Javi, please…” 

“Please what, Osita? Tell me what you want, Hermosa. You want me to give you a baby when I give you my last name too, huh? Show everyone you’re mine with that ring on your finger and our baby growing inside you?” Javi rasped, tugging your sleep shorts off your hips, sliding them down your legs and hit the floor as he situated himself at the edge of the bed, gently nudging open your knees to reveal the arousal that had begun pooling between your legs, soaking your folds and inner thighs. “Sure looks like that’s what you want, isn’t it, sweet girl? Fuck me, you’re so fucking wet already.” 

“Jesus Christ…Yes, oh my god.” You whimpered, already feeling your mind go blank as he settled himself between your legs, draping his arms over your thighs pinning you to the bed, kissing closer and closer to your core, letting his lips ghost over your clit, making you shutter. 

“I know, Osita. Almost, baby. As soon as we’re married and this house is finally done, I’ll give you everything you want. I promise.”  He smirked, watching the desperation spread across your face as he licked one long, broad stroke through your folds, tongue pressed flat against your sensitive bundle of nerves, already aching and throbbing without barely being touched. Almost painfully slowly, he began to work his mouth around your clit before taking his two fingers and collecting the slick dripping from your entrance, soaking his digits before pushing them into your heat, the sensation making you audibly moan in pleasure. 

Javi took his sweet time, pumping his curved fingers in and out of your cunt, hitting the soft, spongy spot inside of you over and over as his tongue danced across your clit, swirling and sucking in the way he knew made you lose your mind in the best way possible, relishing in every moan and whimper that escaped from your mouth. Your hand shot down to his head nestled between your thighs, tugging at the sleepy curls of his dark brown hair, looking for some relief as you felt the tingle at the base of your spine begin to grow, slowly creeping its way through your body.  

It never failed to shock you how quickly Javi was able to make you cum without even trying, how he had memorized every twitch and tug of your body beneath him, that he had learned all the ways to make you fall apart over and over again like his life depended on it. It also never failed to shock you how much the smug grin that spread across Javi’s face as he knew you were getting close made you lose yourself even more, the lust swirling in the deep brown of his eyes staring up at you with delight, practically begging for you to cum for him. 

“Fuck, oh fuck- Just like that Javi, fuck, oh shit- holy fuck, you feel so good, baby.” You whimpered, your hand still buried in the locks of his hair as he pulled his face away, the smirk under his mustache covered in your slick as his fingers continued to languidly pulse inside you, now feeling your cunt clench tighter and tighter around them. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. I know you’re close, Hermosa, can feel how fucking tight you are around my fingers. Cum for me, Osita, I’ve got you, baby. Cum for me and then I’ll fuck you so good I swear I’ll fucking beat your birth control and knock you up right now.” His words hummed deep in his chest, the thought of his promise alone making you writhe in the tangled sheets of your bed, your pussy beginning to flutter as he dove back between your legs, his leisurely pace now becoming almost as frantic and desperate as you were. 

His mouth latched around your clit, tongue flicking and and prodding at your sensitive nerves as his fingers worked in tandem, fucking deeper into you with each thrust of your hand, trying to use his other arm to keep you in place as you bucked your hips, instinctively needing to grind your bottom half against his face, feeling your sweet release beginning to spread through you. 

It wasn’t long before the coil inside you had completely snapped, your orgasm spreading through every inch of your body as you cried out Javi’s name, his fingertips digging into the meat of your thighs as he relentlessly worked you through your high, only stopping as the the cries of his name transformed into ragged moans and breathless pants, you fingers gripping so tight on your sheets, you were convinced your knuckles were turning white. 

In one swift motion, Javi had already shifted from between your legs to on top of you, ripping his boxers off his hips, letting his already hard length rest against your thigh as his mouth crashed into yours, the sweet and tangy taste of your slick still fresh where your lips became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. His broad palm kneaded at the soft flesh of your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipples between his fingers while the other reached between your bodies, stroking his length before lining himself up with your entrance, the delicious stretch of his fullness making you whine as he bottomed out inside you, his hips flushed against yours, letting you feel every inch of him inside you. 

“Javi, holy shit, fuck, baby.” You whimpered, your brain already beginning to short circuit as Javi began to thrust his hips, the lewd noises of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy already filling the room between your moans and whines. 

Javi buried his face in your neck, sucking at your pulse point as your arm draped around his back, digging your fingertips into the strong muscles of his shoulders as his pace began to quicken as he felt your arms wrap around him. 

Suddenly, Javi’s arm snaked under your back, lifting the both of you up as you settled into his lap, your legs straddling over his as you came chest to chest, foreheads resting against each others while he continued to fuck into you over and over. His palm spread splayed across your bare back while the other snaked around your waist, keeping you steady while you swirled your hips on his length and your bodies melted into one another's. 

The damp curls of his sweat ridden hair brushed against your face as he turned his head up to kiss you again, your lips locking while your bodies moved in sync, the perfect motion of each push and pull bringing you closer to the edge of release. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. My perfect fucking wife. Gonna be a perfect fucking mom for our kids. Oh fuck- Fuck, I love you so much, Osita.” Javi grunted, his grip on your body growing tighter as he could feel you beginning to tighten around his cock, throwing your head back in pleasure as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten again. 

It felt like a moment where nothing else in the world existed besides the two of you, so blissfully unaware of anything else besides the sweet sensation of getting lost in each other. It was a moment you could have gotten trapped in forever- until you heard the familiar creek of your bedroom door swing open, making your eyes go wide in panic. 

“Javi, Javi-” You whispered frantically, trying to catch your breath and get his attention as he continued to thrust into you, completely unaware of the scene that was beginning to unfold behind him. “Javi!” You panted again, this time tapping your hand against his back, the action combined with your clear change in tone enough to snap him out of his current state. 

“What? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He gasped, trying to catch his breath alongside you, scrunching his brow in confusion at the terrified look on your face as you stared across the bedroom. 

It was only when Bear let out a happy “woof” from the foot of your bed that Javi immediately understood your terror, realizing your dog had just walked in on the middle of you two having sex. 

“Oh fuck me…” Javi muttered, the two of you frozen in fear as you looked at each other, “I thought you closed the door after you fed him this morning.” 

“Well obviously I thought I did too…” You grumbled, looking back and forth between the stark contrast in Bear’s blissfully unaware state and Javi’s very aware and embarrassed one.

“What do we do?” 

“I don’t know, Jav, just like, go find a way to get him out of the room and then close the door so he can’t get back in.” 

“He’s gonna see me naked! I don’t wanna traumatize him!” 

“Oh because him watching us have sex is gonna traumatize him less? Take the blanket at the end of the bed if you’re so worried.” 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi sighed as you got off his lap, scooching to the edge of the bed as he wrapped the blanket around his waist, making Bear perk up and happily thump his tail on the floor where he had been sitting, staring up at you. “Hey, bud, let’s get you out of here, okay? C’mon!” 

Bear was nothing if not the world’s happiest, most playful dog, so as soon as he saw Javi crouching down, trying to coax him out of the bedroom, Bear took it as his turn to pounce, jumping up to tug at the blanket Javi was using to shield himself and catching it in his teeth, promptly ripping it off Javi’s body and leaving him completely naked as your dog pranced around your room with his new “toy”. 

“Bear, no! Give that back! Fuck!” Javi shouted, trying to cover himself with one hand and chase Bear with the other, leaving you erupting in laughter at the comical sight beginning to unfold in real time in front of you. “Oh, so you think this is funny now? No, Bear, drop it!” Javi groaned, finally getting a grip on the blanket Bear had taken as he released it from his mouth, Javi frantically scrambling to wrap it back around his waist. 

“... It is a little funny…” You snickered, trying your best to contain your giggles as Javi rolled his eyes, letting out a huff of frustration as he started to herd Bear into the hallway again. Throwing one of the balls that Bear had left behind in your bedroom, your dog quickly scampered away in a hasteful chase while Javi quickly shut the door behind him, triple checking to make sure it was locked. Javi let out a few deep breaths, the two of you laughing to yourselves, only to be interrupted by whines and scratches coming from the other side of the door. 

A small frown spread between Javi’s cheeks hearing the sad noises whimpering in the hallway, looking back at you with even sadder puppy dog eyes than you were convinced your dog would be giving you from outside your bedroom. You sighed, giving him a slightly annoyed look, knowing that for as much as you loved your dog, Javi had a soft spot for Bear like no other, and the thought of leaving him sad and alone without the two of you was making him crack quicker than you had anticipated. 

“Javi, he’s a dog, I promise, he’ll be fine.” You sighed, reading the concerned look plastered across Javi’s face with his back pressed to the bedroom door. 

“I know… He just sounds so sad. I don’t want him to think we’re mad at him.” Javi pouted, his frown growing even bigger as Bear’s whines became louder and louder. 

“Javi… Seriously?” You sassed, knowing that any other time you would have relished in the sweet sentiment of how much Javi loved your dog, but right now, that was the last thing your horny brain really seemed to care about. 

“Fine, fine.” He huffed, dropping the blanket and making his way back to the bed, climbing his way back on the mattress, hovering over you. His lips met yours again, trailing down your face and collarbone as you reached between your bodies to wrap your hands around Javi’s cock, beginning to stroke him in hopes your efforts would help get him hard again after the incident with the dog had not done him any favors. 

Over your muffled moans and wet kisses, Bear’s pathetic whines carried through the door, becoming harder and harder to ignore as Javi’s dick was becoming less and less hard. 

“You’re not gonna be able to stop thinking about the dog, are you?” You laughed to yourself, your grasp dropping from around his cock, still soft despite your efforts, Javi’s head dropping into your shoulder in defeat, letting out a frustrated exhale in silent agreement. 

“I’m sorry…” He grumbled, now flopping over next to you on the bed, burying his head in his hands in embarrassment. 

“You are such a softie, Javier Jesús Peña. Literally and figuratively.” You giggled, playfully crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at Javi. You couldn’t even pretend to be mad, because as much as you wanted to be, the way Javi was too sweet for his own damn good with your dog had you imagining what he’d be like as a dad, and that- that was enough to melt you in a puddle faster than a snowman in the middle of July. “Alright, let’s get dressed. As much as I hate to admit it, I think this is the universe’s way of telling us we probably have more important things to do on the day before our wedding that wrangle our dog out of our bedroom so we can fuck.” 

You let out an overdramatic grunt as you pushed yourself out of bed, fishing Javi’s oversized t-shirt off of the floor and throwing it over your top, followed by your sleep shorts and tossing Javi’s boxers back to him as he stood sheepishly by the door. 

“I’m not that big of a sap…” Javi grumbled reluctantly, shuffling his underwear over his hips rolling his eyes at you as you met him by the door, draping your arms around his neck and pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his unshaven stubble. 

“You 100% are, even if you won’t admit it. And that,” You paused, pressing another peck of your lips to his, “Is reason number 3,452 why I love you so much.” 

“3,452? That’s it?” He teased, playfully shaking you in his grasp before wrapping his hand around the back of your head, pulling it closer to his bare chest as he buried a kiss in the messy roots of your hair. “Seems kinda low.” 

“Better watch yourself, Peña, or I’ll make it 3,451.” You smirked, giving him a little nudge as you reached over to the doorknob, letting Bear stampede into your room and hop up onto your bed, gleefully wiggling at the sight of his two favorite people. “And you, mister, are so lucky that you are so cute and that your dad can’t say no to you. Whaddya say, stinker, should we take you for one last walk before your mom and dad get married? And then hopefully you’ll be tired enough by the time we get back to let us finish what we started?” 

“You are fucking ridiculous, you know that right?” Javi grinned, gently cupping his hand over your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your skin. 

“A ridiculous woman who is about to be your wife, so that’s on you, ya goof.” 

“God, I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Let’s go get married.” 

When Javi had asked you to marry him, there had never been a shred of doubt in your mind that your answer would be anything less than a resounding yes. There hadn’t been a single shred of doubt or worry since he slid that ring on your finger last November, and you knew that your plans for a small wedding with your close friends and family on the Peña ranch was the perfect way to celebrate the beginning of the rest of your lives together. 

You had no fears or worries that tomorrow was going to be anything less than perfect, not a single care or stress in the world. 

But everyone else’s stress was enough to make you age another 40 years before you even had the chance to say  “I do.” 

Your family had flown in from Chicago earlier in the week, followed by the Murphy family, staying in your nearly finished new home to help the two of you prepare for the big day, although the word “prepare” seemed to have quite different definitions depending on who you asked. 

To your mom, Connie, and sister-in-law, prepared meant steaming your dress, triple checking the amount of silverware for dinner, harassing you about finally getting your nails painted and creating her 407th checklist of to-do’s since landing in Laredo on Wednesday. 

To Steve and your brothers, it meant barely remembering to bring their suits with them on the plane and asking Javi to come out to the bar with them to have some fun before the wedding instead of working on either of their speeches they were supposed to be giving.  

To your nieces and the Murphy girls, it meant forming a ferocious girl gang of 5 and constantly pestering anyone they could find to take them to Mr. Chucho’s to go play with the cows and the horses since wedding planning was clearly not as fun as being at the farm with the animals. 

To your dad and Chucho, it meant staying as far away from the whole situation as possible and being forever thankful there was at least one TV set up in your new house where he could watch ESPN in peace. 

And to you and Javi, it meant the best you could do was take a deep breath and pray that one way or another, you would survive everyone’s stress and all made it to live to see your wedding day. 

With less than 24 hours to go, everyone in the wedding had found themselves gathered at the Peña ranch for final preparations, your rehearsal dinner, and getting all the girls settled to spend the night at the ranch to get their hair and makeup done the next morning, while the boys would migrate to your new house, considering the most getting ready they had to do was fix their hair and put on their suits. While everyone else was busy with dinner, decorations, or in your brother’s case, distracting everyone else from doing what they were supposed to be, you had found a moment to sneak away into Javi’s room where you were planning on staying for the night, looking for at least a few moments of peace and quiet amongst the chaos. 

“You doin’ okay, Mrs. Peña?” Javi’s soft voice cooed from the doorway of his old bedroom, watching you sort through your 3rd bag of things you had packed to make sure you were prepared for tomorrow morning, quietly laughing to himself at your meticulous packing and organizing. 

The familiar sound made your head turn, letting out a quiet sigh and smile of relief to see it was your future husband standing in the doorway, and not anyone else asking you for something or plans about tomorrow. 

“I’m okay, this is all just-” 

“A lot?” He chuckled, making his way into the room to sit next to your bags spread across his old bed, outstretching his arms to pull you in for a hug to try and distract you from the stress he could feel radiating from all the way outside the door, knowing you had probably needed a break from all the hustle and bustle happening outside from last minute set up and rehearsal dinner. 

“Yeah, a lot.” You huffed, feeling your body sink into Javi’s embrace, savoring in the familiarity of his warmth and savory scent, feeling the tension ease in your body as you remembered the reason for your wedding holding you tightly in his arms. “I know everyone is just trying to be helpful, and I don’t want to you to think I’m not excited because I am, I’m so excited to marry you, it’s just that-” 

“Shhhhhh, baby, it’s okay. I feel the same way. C’mere.” He smiled, pulling you closer to him, squeezing you just tight enough to make you burst into giggles before releasing you to grab your hands in his, gently tracing his thumbs along your skin in delicate circles. “Just think, tomorrow, we get to get married and spend the whole day celebrating the fact that I get to spend the rest of my life with the most beautiful, stunning, amazing woman on the face of this earth, and then after that, we get to spend 10 days in the Bahamas, just me, my wife and the beach, without a worry in the world besides how long we wanna sit in the sun, what drink you want in your hand and where we wanna fu-” 

“There they are! Shit, you were right, Steve, you know the man well.” Your brother David’s voice rang from down the hallway, quickly followed by the footsteps and sounds of your other brother Charlie, and Steve. 

“Hey! Lovebirds! Remember that party that we’re throwin’ for y’all? Probably would be good if you were there for it instead of makin’ out in here. You got the whole honeymoon for that.” Steve teased, knocking on your door, the boy’s laughter and snickers was enough to make you and Javi whip your heads around, rolling your eyes at the goofy gang the 3 had become since meeting for the first time a few days ago, you and Connie both agreeing that the group was no better than a pack of middle school boys with the ability to drink beer, happily confiding in their shit talking shenanigans to pass the time to distract from the wedding formalities they needed to be kept most up to date on. 

“Yeah, dude, Mom’s been looking for you for like 15 minutes. I’ve already had my wedding and I don’t need to suffer her wrath again.” Charlie smirked, taking a sip of his drink while Steve and David snickered to themselves.   

“Don’t you two idiots have anything better to do than annoy us and drag Steve into it too?” You groaned, turning around and crossing your arms over your chest to face the 3 Stooges in your doorway. 

“No, not really.” David shrugged, finishing off the rest of his beer. 

“Perfect,” You sighed, voice oozing with sarcasm, “Tell mom we’ll be out there in 5 minutes, okay?” 

“Alright, timer’s set, gentlemen,” Steve cackled, waving his wrist in the air and pointing to his watch, “and God knows I’ve walked in on you two enough times that I won’t be the one coming to get you when time’s up.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Murph. Get the fuck outta here, or I’m gonna pick one of the cows outside to be my best man instead of you.” Javi grumbled, resting his face in his palm, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he shook his head. 

“Honestly, kinda sounds like an upgrade…” David smirked, slapping Steve on the chest before turning over to Charlie and gesturing towards the hallway, your brothers now scampering away in laughter as Steve chased off behind them. 

“Just think, tomorrow, they’re officially your brothers, too. Lucky you.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stepped back into Javi, laying your face on his chest while his arms wrapped around you again, pulling you in for one more hug as he kissed your forehead. 

“I’d take 100 of your brothers if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” He smiled, bringing his hand to your cheek and tilting your gaze up towards him. 

“100? Really?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at him, the two of you laughing at the idea of multiplying your siblings times 50. 

“On second thought, 2 is just fine.” 

“Good thing Patrick’s not here, because I think at this point if he was, they probably would have found a way to take my wedding dress and put it on a horse.” Even though a soft smile settled across your face at the idea of your brothers (and apparently, now honorary brother, Steve) scheming up some sort of stupid prank, Javi could feel the twinge of pain hidden in your voice, knowing how desperately you wished your late brother was here to celebrate your wedding with you. “He would have really loved you, Javi. I really wish he got to be here.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a sting in Javi’s silence as well, knowing how much he missed his mom, too. How deeply he wished that she knew he was finally happy, and had found someone to spend the rest of his life with that she would have loved just as much as he loved you. “I wish your mom got to be here, too. Maybe she could have helped calm my mom down a little.” You smiled at Javi, the two of you both trying to fight the tears that had begun welling in your eyes at the void you wished more than just their memories could fill. 

“She would have loved you so much too, Osita. So fucking much.” 

You held each other just a little tighter before pulling away to wipe the wetness pooling in your eyes,  You paused for a moment, letting out a quiet sigh and laugh, knowing Patrick would have promptly kicked your ass for crying about him at your wedding and told you to stop being such a baby about it, just like Javi knew his mom would be throwing a fit knowing he was spending any waking moment before his wedding not cherishing every moment he could with his bride to be. 

“I love you, Jav.” You sniffed, staring up at him with watering eyes and a sympathetic smile. 

“I love you too, Osita.” He smiled back, his big brown eyes locking with yours in a soft, loving gaze. 

“Okay, well, we should probably head back out there so my mom doesn’t lose her shit and Steve doesn’t harass us anymore.” 

“I wasn’t kidding when I said the cow may be a better choice.” 

“Listen… I never said it wasn’t” 

As the two of you made your way to the back patio where everyone was gathered, you were quickly greeted by your mom and Connie, who had very early on taken it upon themselves to oversee that everything about your rehearsal dinner ran as smoothly as it could to ensure no hiccups tomorrow at the cost of nearly driving you up a wall from their constant and loving pestering. 

“Okay, one last thing and then we’re done, I promise.” Connie grimaced, bracing herself for your less than enthused reaction to what you were convinced would definitely not be her final request of the night. 

“We think that we should run through the ceremony one more time, just to be safe.” Your mom chimed in, nodding her head in agreement with Connie. 

“Like the ceremony that we practiced 3 times an hour ago?” You replied, trying your best to hide your annoyance with their over preparedness, Javi’s hand snaking around your waist and giving your hip a little squeeze of reassurance knowing you were trying your best to keep it together. 

“Okay listen, yes, but-” Connie began to rebuttal, only to be cut off promptly by your mom. 

“It’s your brothers, sweetie. I love them, but let’s be honest, they’re idiots. I don’t trust them to remember how to put their socks on correctly in the morning, let alone walk down the aisle for your wedding.” 

“Unfortunately, I think I may have to put Steve in that category too. I think the girls have it down better than he does.” Connie groaned, all of you now looking across the deck to see your brothers and Steve, David with a beer bottle balanced on his head and the other two chucking empty cans at him to try and knock it off, very quickly nodding in silent agreement that your mom and Connie were definitely not off base about this request. 

“Yeah, okay, fair point.” You laughed, your eyes widening at your idiot brothers, their honorary 3rd member, and the one shared brain cell between them. “Sorry that they roped Steve into the Completely Clueless Carnival of Stupidity.” 

“I’m sorry that my husband is a 12 year old boy who keeps egging them on.” Connie sighed, shaking her head at the trio. “Word of marriage advice, Javi? This?” She pointed over at Steve, now cheering and high fiving your brothers as he whipped an empty can at David, knocking his bottle off his head, “Not helping anyone get laid any time soon.” 

“Duly noted.” Javi chuckled, shaking his head at his idiot friend, “I’ll remind Steve that he is a very lucky man.”  

After a few minutes of wrangling, Connie and your mom were able to herd everyone back to the field where the ceremony was taking place, quizzing all members of the wedding party about their positions and timing to walk down the aisle after explaining for the 6th time, mostly because 5 out of the 6 times, your brothers had completely forgotten at what point they were supposed to make their appearance.

Even though it was the 4th practice round tonight, you couldn't keep the excited butterflies in your stomach from churning as you met Javi at the end of the aisle, staring up at the lovestruck gaze in his sweet brown eyes while he took your hand in his, softly mouthing “I love you” just loud enough for only you to hear, knowing that the next time you met him here, it would be the real thing. 

With your mom and Connie satisfied enough, everyone was set free to disperse and enjoy the rest of the night for the next few hours, until it was time to send everyone their separate ways before the big day. 

As you and Javi were making your way back to the patio, the two of you felt little hands tugging at the back of your clothes, whipping around to see the girl gang of your niece’s and the Murphy’s, all staring up at you and Javi with scheming grins and puppy dog eyes. 

“Auntie Bear? Uncle Javi?” Your niece Olivia questioned, placing herself at the front of the group to signify herself as the unofficial leader, making you already aware she was going to try and persuade you of something given her syrupy tone. 

“Yes, Miss Olivia?” You replied, crouching down to her level, knowingly raising an eyebrow at her, giving her a little smirk. 

“Wellllll, we were all wondering if maybeeeeee, you and Uncle Javi could go take us to see the horses before we have to go to bed?” If Olivia’s eyes couldn’t have been any wider, the rest of the girl’s sure were, practically pleading with you and Javi as they playfully pouted, chanting a chorus of “please, please, please, please, pleaseeeeeee?” 

“I don’t know girls, it’s starting to get late, we may not have a lot of time.” You responded, pushing yourself back up to stand as you looked over at Javi, running his hand over the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. 

“I mean… We probably have enough time.” He muttered with a little shrug, looking back over at you, trying to hide the puddle he was turning into as the girl's adorable begging began to melt him. Hearing his response, the girls started to squeal in delight, jumping up and down before tackling Javi with hugs of gratitude. 

“Thank you, Mr. Javi!” The older Olivia screeched, beaming with joy as her younger sister snuck between her and Javi, wrapping her arms around his leg with such force it almost took him to the ground. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best Uncle Javi!” Your nieces squealed, now joining Abby on Javi’s free leg and trapping him in their grasp. 

“Alright well let’s not break Uncle Javi before we make it to the barn.” You laughed, peeling the girls off of him as they giggled and squirmed. “How about this? Why don’t you guys race to the gate, and we’ll meet you over there?” 

“Okay!” The girls shouted in unison, quickly toppling off of Javi and lining themselves up in a racing position. 

“On your mark… Get set… Go!” You yelled, sending the group dashing through the tall grass in a fit of joyous laughter and leaving you snickering at Javi, recovering from his full fledged attack from the giggle gang. 

“I already know what you’re gonna say…” Javi grumbled, following behind you and the girls towards the barn, rolling his eyes at the smug look you had plastered on your face from cheek to cheek. 

“Oh, yeah? And what am I gonna say, Jav?” You smirked, giving him a playful jab with your elbow, patiently waiting for your future husband’s admittance to having the biggest soft spot known to man. 

“They’re just- They all looked so sweet and I didn’t wanna tell them no! They’re so cute.” Javi muttered, trying to defend himself from your interrogation, without having to directly admit the truth that the both of you knew all too well. 

“Sooooooo, what you’re saying is…” You bit down on your lip, knowingly shrugging at Javi, trying to hold back your grin. 

“... I’m a softie, you win.” He sighed, trying to keep himself from smiling at his defeat, even though well aware of the fact without having to admit it out loud. 

“Who would have thought, once the world’s most sought after DEA agent to hunt down the cartel is now getting married and providing pony rides to his future nieces.” You teased, giving him another poke before he had you squealing too, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder, carrying you through the field and spinning you around before placing you back down, giving you a playful shake. 

“Not me. But I couldn’t be more happy that I’m wrong about it. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about the fact that I’m the luckiest fucking guy on the planet that you helped me prove myself wrong.” 

“I couldn’t be more happy you proved yourself wrong, too.” 

The promise of getting to see the horses of the Peña ranch had the girls wiggling with excitement, goofy grins on their faces as they watched you and Javi approach the barn gate in hightented anticipation of getting to interact with the animals. 

Fortunately for the girls, Javi was more than happy to let them have free reign of the barn, letting them pet any horse they pleased for as long as they wanted, even letting the girls sneak each of them a few more treats than they should have.

Unfortunately for you, you hadn’t braced yourself for the absolute puddle you were planning on becoming as you watched Javi interact with your nieces and the Murphy’s. As if it wasn’t already sweet enough that the girls completely adored him, Javi was so thoughtful and patient with each and every one of them, taking the time to answer their questions, tell them the horses names, and hoist the younger girls up on his hip so they could see too, carefully cradling them in one arm and pointing out things with the other that made their little faces beam with joy. 

At one point, he had propped up Brianna to sit on his shoulders, both of their faces lighting up as he watched her lean in to pet one of the horses and then pull back in delight to clap at her bravery, only to tap Javi’s head shouting “Again! Again!” as your other niece stood next to the both of them, cheering Brianna on as she squealed in satisfaction before Olivia was begging for you to come join in on the fun. You had to physically brace yourself as you walked over to the trio, because the sight of Javi and the giggling girls alone was making you weak in the fucking knees, let alone how he looked with a toddler hoisted up on his shoulders. 

“Auntie Bear, look at how pretty the horses are!” Olivia squealed, grabbing on to the edge of the stall to peek over and see the horses inside. “Uncle Javi can you lift me up one more time so I can see pleaseeeeeeeee?” 

“Of course, kiddo.” Javi grinned, reaching up to take Brianna off his shoulders, giving her a little raspberry on her belly on the way down before passing her off to you trying your best to keep your cool while your heart and ovaries were casually exploding into a million little pieces. “Up ya go.” He grunted, lifting Olivia up to rest at his waist, holding her closer to pet the horse. 

“I think that she’s my favorite. I like her spots.” Olivia smiled, petting the horse as Javi held her. 

“You know who else's favorite horse that is?” Javi chuckled, watching Oliva lean over to press a quick kiss into the horse’s nose before pulling her back up, watching her head curiously tilt at his question. 

“Who?” 

“Mr. Chucho’s.” He answered, laughing as he watched her face light up in excitement, grinning with glee. 

“Really?! Auntie Bear, we have to go tell Mr. Chucho that we have the same favorite horse! Can we go tell him?” 

“Absolutely, Cutie Patootie. We should probably start heading back anyway, we don’t want sleepy flower girls for tomorrow, do we?” 

“But I is not even tieward.” Brianna pouted, letting out a long yawn after the end of her sentence, rubbing her eyes in contradiction to her statement, you and Javi quietly smirking at each other at your sleepy niece, gently resting her head against your chest. 

“Of course you aren’t, Lil Miss. Liv, why don’t you go get the other girls and start heading back, okay? You guys can say goodbye to the horses on the way out.” 

“You got it, Auntie Bear! C’mon you guys, let’s go, let’s go!” Before you could barely finish your sentence, Olivia was grabbing the rest of the girls, practically dragging them through the barn, the gaggle of girls racing past the stables and out the barn door as you and Javi trailed behind with Brianna sleepily situated in your arms. You were no less than 10 feet out of the stables before you could feel Brianna’s little snores against your chest, quietly laughing to yourself as you kissed her head, pulling her closer to you. 

“Not sleepy, huh? God, you are getting heavy though, especially with your sleeping dead weight.” You laughed quietly to yourself, readjusting Brianna in your arms before looking over at Javi, his eyes wide and enamored, quietly watching you hold your niece, letting his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he gulped before speaking. 

“You uh- do you um, want me to hold her? If, um, if she’s heavy.” Javi stammered, trying to maintain his composure watching you cradle Brianna, unable to shake the image of what you would look like holding his baby in your arms, and how desperately he wished it was. 

You paused, looking over at Javi, trying not to blush at the awestruck look on his face, knowing he didn’t need to say a single word to hear what was running through his brain, and how much it made you want to say fuck it to your already agreed upon plans to hold out on trying for a baby until after tomorrow and your house was finished.  God, at this point, you’d give this man a baby yesterday, every moment he spent with your nieces or the Murphy girls only making your ovaries weaker and weaker at what a good dad you knew he was going to make. 

“No, I’m okay. Plus, I think if I watch you hold her, I’m gonna lose any last ounce of self-control that I have.” It was also taking every last ounce of self-control to keep your ridiculously goofy grin from spreading any further across your face than it already was, looking Javi up and down with a little eyebrow raise, watching a smug smirk grow between his cheeks. Leaning in just a little closer, Javi wrapped his arm around your waist, planting a soft kiss in your hair and whispering in your ear. 

“And that would be a bad thing because…” 

Before you could even respond, you could feel the weight in your arms lessen, Javi reaching across your body to scoop Brianna into his grasp, gently cradling her over his broad shoulder and rubbing her back as she nestled against him with a little sleepy yawn. 

“Okay, well that isn’t fair in the slightest, is it?” You playfully pouted, crossing your now freed arms over your chest at Javi, the image of him carrying Brianna turning you closer and closer into a human puddle with every passing second. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita.” He smirked, shooting you a quick wink before hoisting Brianna up and wrapping his hand around the back of her head, cuddling her against his chest as he trotted back towards the house, leaving you a dumbfounded, lovestruck, baby craving mess in his wake. 

Javi seemed to have no problem testing every last bit of strength you had- carrying Brianna, playing with the girls, being the cutest damn thing you’d ever seen interacting with your nieces and the Murphys?  If this was meant to be a test of your strength, you were quickly realizing that you were turning out to be nothing if not a weak, weak woman who needed to make that man father almost as fast as you were about to make him your husband. 

As the fluorescent pink and orange sunset began to dip below the horizon, the sky shifting from colorful pastels to star speckled darkness, the festivities of the night were beginning to wind down- As hard as they had tried to fight it, your flower girls had barely made it 5 minutes after getting back from the horse barn before they were asleep in the lawn chairs scattered around the yard, your mom and Connie had finished their 15th round of surveillance to make sure that everything was in place for tomorrow, and your brothers and Steve were about 3 beers deeper than they should have been considering they were going to have to be both coherent and presentable in a few short hours. 

As much as you or Javi didn’t really care about the tradition, everyone else had insisted that the two of you spend your last night before the wedding apart- you and the girls at the Peña ranch to make things run more smoothly as you got ready in the morning, and all of the boys and Javi at your new house, now close enough to being completed that it was an option to house people for the night. 

The boys began to pile into the party of cars parked in the driveway, ready to transport them back to the house, while the girls had gathered your nieces and the Murphy’s to tuck them into bed, leaving you and Javi the last two out on the patio, the twinkling string lights hanging above the deck shining down on the backyard where tables and chairs lay waiting, ready to be decorated and filled with family and friends for your big day tomorrow. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet, content sigh, gently leaning your head onto Javi’s shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist, rubbing soft circles into your hip. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually gonna get married tomorrow.” 

“I know, me either. Fuck, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. God, I’m the fucking luckiest man alive.” He grinned, his grip digging just a little tighter into your side, playfully shaking you in his grasp. 

“I’m gonna miss you tonight and tomorrow morning. I wish the marriage police weren’t on us about not sleeping in the same bed the night before the wedding.” You grumbled, gesturing back towards the house, Javi quietly laughing to himself knowing exactly who you were referring to without even having to say, both your mom and Chucho insisting the two of you indulge them in following through with the idea for “good luck’s sake”, if nothing else. 

“I know, baby. Although, I do think it may not be considered good luck to fuck the bride the night before the wedding.” 

“Speak for yourself…” The two of you snickered, shaking your heads at your remark. 

I’m gonna miss you too, Osita. The day will go by fast, I promise. And the next time I see you,” he paused, gently turning you to face him, his palm cupping your cheek while his sweet chocolate eyes looked you up and down as a goofy grin spread across his face, “you’re gonna be my wife.” 

No matter how many times you told it to yourself, it still didn’t quite feel real- 

Tomorrow, Javier Peña was going to be your husband.

Your stomach turned and flipped in anxious anticipation, butterflies dancing excitedly in your stomach as you let the looming reality start to sink in more and more, realizing that the day that you had been waiting for since the moment you had met him was so close, that you could almost taste it. 

Heat crept through your cheeks as Javi tilted in his head, leaning in to let his lips press against yours, lingering to take in every last bit of you he could as he kissed you, the familiar warmth and taste of him only making your heart beat faster as you tugged him in closer, letting your open mouths slowly turn into a dance of tongue and teeth, melting into each other like you were the only two things in the world that existed. 

Well, at least for a moment.

“Javi. Ehhm. Ehhmmmmmm. Javi! Javier!” 

The two of you practically jumped out of your skin to see Chucho standing right next to you, completely oblivious to the fact that he had probably been watching the two of you make out much longer than he had wanted to, trying to find a way to capture his lovestruck son’s attention without completely scaring the shit out of you. 

“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi gasped, eyes going wide as he breathed heavily, his cheeks turning pink as he sheepishly shot his view away from his dad, now standing in front of you with a smug eyebrow raised, arms folded across his chest. “Maybe a warning next time, huh?” 

“I tried to. Several times. Dios mío, you two. You can kiss her all you want tomorrow, mijo, but right now, I’m in charge of taking you back, so you can let la novia déjala tener un momento de pez. (the bride have a moment of peace.)” He chuckled, shooting you a quick wink, your face equally as red as Javi’s as Chucho teased him. “Say your goodbyes and then get your ass in the car before I send Steve out to get you, or worse, her dad. Good night, mija, sleep well. Don’t keep him too much longer.” He snickered, giving his soni a few pats on the back before heading back where he came from, leaving you and Javi frozen in embarrassment. 

“Fuck me…” Javi whispered under his breath, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, letting his fingers brush through his dark curls, looking over at you with a guilty pout, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Listen… Not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last…” You grimaced, the two of you letting your faces shift from uncomfortable guilt to snickering smirks, shaking your heads at Chucho’s impeccable timing. “Okay, as much as I don’t want to,  I should probably let you go before my mom, or even worse, Connie and Steve walk out on us too.”

“Very fair. Un beso mas, por favor (One more kiss, please).” 

Gently cradling your cheek, Javi’s hand slid across your jaw, his thumb swiping at the soft skin of your cheek as your lips met in a tender kiss, lingering just long enough to be interrupted by the honk of a car horn blaring from the driveway, desperate for Javi’s attention. 

“Something tells me they’re waiting for you.” You teased, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss Javi on the cheek before resting your head against his chest, tangling your arms around his waist for one last hug before you said goodbye. “I love you, Javi. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Peña.” 

“See you tomorrow, Mrs. Peña. I love you, too.” With one last kiss buried in the soft swept curls of your hair and a final squeeze in your embrace, making you giggle and squeal as he picked you up off the ground, shaking you in his grasp.  

With another longer and louder honk, Javi reluctantly made his way to the truck, making sure to give you one last look over his shoulder, mouthing one last “I love you” to tide you over into tomorrow as he disappeared to be whisked away by the dads and brothers, the only thing standing in your way of officially becoming Mrs. Peña was the one last sleep that brought you to your wedding day. 

While you were surprised, you couldn’t have been more thankful that the ladies residing in the Peña ranch for the night were insistent on making sure you get to bed as soon as possible, leaving you with an extra few hours of quiet, alone time before the big day tomorrow. 

You had triple checked you had everything ready and set out, and once you had washed your face, put on your pajamas, and checked everything one more time, you settled into bed, curling up into Javi’s plaid sheets. The familiar and comforting scent of him was still hidden in the bed, the smell just enough to help your eyelids slowly blink heavier and heavier with a soft smile between your cheeks. You couldn’t help but replay the image of walking down the aisle to meet Javi over and over again in your head, picturing his handsome, giddy grin greeting you as he took your hand in his, counting down the moments until “I do” becoming easier than counting sheep. So easy, in fact, that you had fallen asleep in a matter of moments, peacefully drifting to sleep as you waited to be woken by the soft glow of tomorrow’s sunrise. 

That’s why you were so surprised when you woke up to what you assumed was the next morning, wondering what time it was if it was still so dark outside, thinking you must have woken up an hour or two early out of anticipation. You rolled over, tossing in the warmth of your sheets to peek at the bright red numbers glowing on the alarm clock next to you. 

Well, it was morning, but 1:47 A.M. wasn’t the time you were exactly hoping to see. 

The first thing that came to your mind was shock when you saw the blinking red number flash in your face as your eyelids stretched open- how had you only been asleep for 3 hours? The next thing that came to your mind was something that you were not expecting- and that was pure panic. 

There was nothing about tomorrow that was making you feel nervous in the slightest. Everything was planned and ready, everyone was excited and happy, and most importantly, you couldn’t be more thrilled to finally get to marry Javi and start the rest of your life together with him. 

So why the fuck were you wide awake and anxious as hell? 

You let out a groan, stretching your arms above your head as your body tensed, tugging the comforter over your head as you forced your eyelids back shut, willing yourself to fall back asleep. You took a few deep breaths, scrunching your face in frustration as you could feel your body only coming more and more awake, your heart beating faster and faster as you realized falling back asleep wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. 

Maybe I just need to go to the bathroom. 

You threw the sheets off your body, groggily stumbling out of bed towards the ensuite attached to Javi’s room. Not even bothering to turn on the lights, you forced yourself to pee in the dark, hoping the lack of light would trick your body into wanting to go back to bed, but it was no use. Getting up to go to the bathroom had only made you more aware of how awake you now were, anxiously pacing back and forth between your bed and the bathroom, trying to think of ways to help you fall back asleep. 

2:26 A.M.  

The new time you had found yourself reading on the alarm clock was now making your anxiety skyrocket, wondering how you had already been awake for almost a half an hour with no sign of falling back asleep in sight. It also didn’t help that your mind was now beginning to race, the nagging thought of trying to power through tomorrow, the most important day of your life, with only 3 hours of sleep only adding to your stress. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, your leg was bouncing in sync with your rapid heart rate, wondering how the hell you were going to get yourself any sleep before the sun rose. Letting your back flop against the mattress, you let out a huff of frustration, burying your head under all of the pillows on Javi’s bed, desperate to find any remedy to ease you back to sleep. You sat there for a few minutes, but of course, with it being of absolutely zero use, you were back to sitting up, looking around the room for any sort of solution to your sleepless night. 

Boring books. Perfect. 

Eyeing the shelf across the room, you grabbed the most uninteresting looking book you could find, quickly settling on the well worn copy of The Hobbit, based on sheer volume alone. Clicking on the lamp resting on the nightstand, you let the warm glow of the light illuminate the room, shadows dancing against the walls as you tried to settle back between the sheets, opening up the book and letting your eyes graze back and forth the tiny ink print. Even though you were taking in the words on the page, you knew for a fact it wasn’t even close to actually reading, glancing back and forth at the blaring red number of the alarm clock every 2 minutes, as if you were going to magically will yourself to fall asleep and make it morning. 

After a failed half hour of staring at the book, you now felt even more frustrated than before, feeling the panicked tears beginning to well in your eyes as the clock crept close to 3:00 AM and you were wide awake as ever. Burying your head in your hands, you could feel your chest growing heavier with each deep breath, slowly feeling like a pile of bricks had been set on top of you as you began to sob quietly, feeling the inevitable panic and defeat wash over you. 

You weren’t falling back asleep. 

As you rolled over to face the cold and empty half of your bed, you wished with every bone in your body that Javi was there next to you, able to pull you close and promise you that everything was going to be okay, and even if it wasn’t, at least  you’d have him there with you instead of the empty and lonely void of his dark childhood bedroom. 

At this point, the thought of even just hearing his voice seemed like it may provide you with some relief,  but the last thing you wanted to do was wake Javi up and have him suffer sleeplessly with you. But right now, it seemed like the only thing in the world that was going to make you feel any ounce of better was hearing Javi’s voice lull you back to sleep, showering you with reassurance that you’d be okay before the big day tomorrow. 

You sat up, wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks with the back of your hand, getting out of bed to nervously pace back and forth across the room, debating the idea of calling Javi as a last resort  for sleep before sunrise. 

The war of pros and cons raged in your mind with each anxious step across the worn, creaky floor, arguing with yourself about calling Javi at the ripe hours of 3:00 AM to cure your desperate need for sleep. For as terrible as you felt about waking him up, you found yourself quietly creeping down the hallway, closer and closer to the phone tucked away in the kitchen, your fingers gently punching the digits to his phone number and bringing the phone to your ear, nestling it between your neck and shoulder as you impatiently chewed at your bottom lip so hard you were convinced it was going to bleed.

You were in shock that you were in such a panic to the point you were about to wake up your future husband in the middle of the night, only hours before the day of your wedding, but what shocked you more, was that you heard Javi’s voice answer his phone halfway through the first dial tone, and he sounded just as wide awake as you. 

“Osita? Baby, are you okay? Is everything alright?” Obviously worried by your 3:00 AM phone call, you could also hear the worry and stress rumbling low in his chest as he spoke, the relief of finally hearing his voice bringing even more tears to your eyes as the reality of the situation only sank deeper and deeper into your conscious. 

“Javi, I- I’m really sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you up, but I- I just- I’m wide awake and I’ve been up for like, 2 hours and can’t fall back asleep and didn’t know what to do, I tried everything and I-” You paused, trying to stop the sniffling through your sobs to hear the muffled response on the other end of the line. “Jav, are you- Javi are you laughing?” 

“Yeah, because I can’t fucking sleep either.” He quietly chuckled, his admittance suddenly lifting a weight off your shoulders, realizing that you weren't crazy for being wired and wide awake the night before your wedding. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not laughing at you, Hermosa, I’ve been up for a while too and I can’t fucking fall back asleep. I can’t believe that you’re up too.” 

“Wow, lucky us.” You snickered, smiling at Javi’s muted laughter through the other end of the phone. “I miss you, Jav. I wish you were here. I’m convinced that’s the only thing that’s gonna help me fall back asleep.”  You paused again, this time with no response from Javi, cocking your head in confusion as you listened to the rustling and shuffling from the other end of the line. “Jav? Are you there?” 

“I’ll be over in 15 minutes.”  

“Wait, what?” You responded, scrunching your brow, wondering if you had heard him correctly. “Javi, are you sure? It’s already so late and I-” 

“Listen, I would like to think it’s way worse luck for the bride and groom not to get any goddamn sleep the night before their wedding than it is for them to sleep in the same bed. We can just talk on the phone if you don’t want me to, but-” 

“Javier Peña, you better get your handsome ass over here ASAP.” 

The two of you quietly laughed to yourselves, feeling your cheeks warm in a soft smile, an instant calm flooding your body at the thought that you were only minutes away from having Javi by your side, knowing even if you couldn't sleep, your night would be a lot less lonely with him there with you. 

“Wait, how are you gonna get here without waking everyone up?” 

“Not my first time sneaking out, Osita.” You giggled at his response, practically hearing his smug smirk through the phone.  

“Sneaking into your childhood bedroom the night before your wedding? And they say true love is dead. Don’t keep me waiting, Romeo.” 

“God, you’re such a dork. I love you. I’ll be there soon.” 

“I love you too. See you soon.” 

As the dial tone went silent, you hung the phone back on the receiver, leaning back against the wall of the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief, you felt the anxious weight off your chest lift, the racing of your heart shifting from stress to sweet solace.

At least if you weren’t going to sleep, you weren’t going to have to do it alone. 

Quietly, you tiptoed back into your room, carefully treading across the creaky and worn wood planks of the ranch floor to avoid squeaks, shutting the door behind you as you made it back to the bed, resting your head against the windowsill as you patiently waited for the familiar rumble of Javi’s truck treading down the driveway.  

It wasn’t long before the bright flash of headlights shone through the panes of your window, illuminating your room and casting shifting shadows against the walls, the crackling gravel crunching under Javi’s truck tires coming to a halt as his car parked along the side of the house. The gentle slam of the car door shutting made your heart skip a beat as you cracked open your window, peaking your head outside to see Javi’s broad figure sneaking towards you through the darkness.  

“Well, fancy seeing you here.” You snickered, gently pushing open the window for Javi, scooting out of his way as he hoisted himself up through the frame, letting out a little grunt as he flopped over into the bedroom. As he stood up, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist tugging you closer to him, and the other cradling the back of your head as you rested it against his chest. 

You weren’t quite sure what it was- his familiar scent, his warm embrace, the feeling of home being wrapped up in his presence, but whatever it was, it had every single emotion that had been bubbling up inside you since 1 A.M. coming to fruition, instantly beginning to sob tears mixed with relief, stress and overwhelming exhaustion the second your head met the soft cotton fabric of the t-shirt laying over his chest. 

“Hey, hey, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m right here, I’ve got you. Shhhhhh, don’t cry Hermosa, it’s okay.” Javi whispered, pulling you closer to him, running his fingers through your hair and leaning down to press a kiss on your head, holding you while you let everything out. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t wanna spend the night before we got married waking you up at 3:00 in the morning just because I couldn’t sleep.” You muttered through your shaky breaths in between tears clinging onto Javi’s shirt, feeling the wetness pool on the cotton where your head had been resting. 

“Osita, baby, look at me.” Javi paused, peeling you off of him just enough to force your gaze on him, his hand now cupping your jaw while his thumb rubbed against your cheek, wiping away your tears to see his soft, sweet smile staring back at you. “I don’t care. I don’t care if you wake me up at 1 A.M., 3 A.M., whenever the fuck you wanna wake me up, because today, I get to wake up knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I get to spend the rest of my life as your husband. I get to fucking marry you. I think that’s worth a lifetime’s worth of 3 A.M. wakeup calls. C’mere.” He cooed, carefully picking you up and carrying you over to bed, laying you in the sea of sheets and blankets before climbing in himself and nestling up next to you, his hand splayed along your back, tracing small circles with his fingertips while your arm draped across his stomach as you laid on top of him, snuggling as close as you could into his body. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, your warm breath tickling Javi’s neck as you nestled your face in his shoulder, the faint thumping of his heartbeat syncing with yours as your breaths became longer and deeper in Javi’s embrace. 

“For what, baby?” 

“For being the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

Javi couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, a smile spreading across his face as he looked down at you, curled against his body, watching your eyelids start to droop heavier and heavier with each blink, the telltale signs of sleep slowly beginning to wash over you the moment you were finally snuggled up next to him. It was as if your brain and body knew all you needed was to have him beside you to send you off into slumber. 

“Thank you for making me the luckiest man in the world.” 

Even as you felt yourself starting to drift in and out of consciousness, you could still feel the heat creeping through your cheeks, a soft smile pursed between your lips, wrapped in the warmth of Javi’s body pulling you closer. 

“Can you believe we’re getting married tomorrow?” 

“Even better, Hermosa, we’re getting married today.” 

“I keep forgetting it’s way past midnight at this point, holy shit. Happy wedding day, you goofball,” You paused, letting a prolonged yawn escape from your mouth before letting your eyes fall all the way shut, “I wouldn’t wanna spend the rest of my 3 A.M.’s with anyone else but you. Te amo, Javi.” 

“Te amo más, Osita. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“Even when we’re old and gray and I have saggy boobs?” You giggled, another yawn disrupting your sleepy laughter as Javi gently shook you in his grasp, lovingly rolling his eyes at your remark. 

“Especially when we’re old and gray, no matter how saggy your boobs are.” 

“You’re about to make a life long commitment here, Jav, you gotta love me when I’m old, senile and saggy, no backin’ out now.” You teased, only making the two of you snicker more. 

“I will love everything about you for as long as I live, pendejo, saggy boobs and all.”  

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

A promise that had granted you permission to finally put your body at ease, sleep washing over you in soft and rolling waves with each inhale and exhale pressed against Javi’s chest, slowly fading into slumber without even realizing. 

It wasn’t until the golden glow of sunrise began to spill through your windows that you found yourself stirring once again, squinting at the beaming rays bursting into your room and willing yourself awake, flooded with relief that it wasn’t the dead of night that had greeted you. Rolling your shoulders and stretching your limbs, you forced yourself through your sleepy fog, shifting over to face Javi’s side of the bed. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Thank God it’s actually morning. Jav? Javi?” Flopping over, you woke to find Javi’s space empty, his broad frame and sleepy smile nowhere to be found to kiss good morning and greet. Sitting up, you peeked across the room to find the bathroom empty, and the window you had left open last night closed shut, Javi’s truck no longer parked in the driveway, disappearing like a thief in the night. Looking back over at the tangled sea of sheets left on his side of the bed, a bright yellow post-it note caught your eye, carefully placed on top of his pillow, taking his place in his absence. 

Reaching over with another yawn and stretch, you carefully picked up the paper, hovering it over the goofy grin on your face that had made its home there the second you had seen Javi’s scratchy writing scribbled across the bright yellow note. 

Morning Hermosa, 

Sorry I left without saying goodbye, figured it was easier if I was gone before everyone woke up and spare us the grief of everyone giving us shit for spending the night together. I know you’re sleeping good because I woke up 3 inches of bed and barley any sheets, since you were buried in a nest so deep I’m convinced you were hibernating. 

Even when you steal all the blankets, I couldn’t be more thankful that I get to spend the rest of my life with you. You are my heart, my soul, everything I never knew I need and am so glad I found. I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you’re gonna look today. How lucky I am that you’re gonna be my wife. I love you so much, Osita. Till we’re old and gray.

Let’s get fuckin’ married, baby

-J

What you were convinced were the first of many tears today beginning to well in your eyes, one little yellow post-it from your future husband had your heart already bursting at the seams. 

In all your years of life, there had been few things you had found yourself absolutely sure of. Life had thrown you more curveballs than you ever thought you could manage, and you had been more than happy to put yourself down and out for the count. That was until a tall, handsome stranger threw you the biggest curveball you could have never prepared for- that for once in your life, you were finally sure of something. 

You loved Javier Peña more than life itself. And today?

You were gonna marry the shit out of him. 

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

[dark-vader28]

Aoao, your post about Roderick Heffley is so deeply imprinted in my heart. Can I make a request for Rodrik/reader(girl)?

The reader is the younger sister of one of Rodrick's friends from the rock band. (just a year younger than our emo boy😉)How about, Roderick himself doesn't realize that he has fallen in love with a friend's YOUNGER sister, the reader's brother with "What the hell dude!? She's my sister!" and Rodrik's graduation ball, to which he confusedly invites the reader...

Sorry for the English, I hope everything was clear 🙏

pls i love this idea so much im climbing the walls

———

Löded Diper, your brother’s band, was practicing tonight. Normally, you took no interest in it and it had little to no importance to you, but tonight was a different set of circumstances. Your parents were off to dinner and they demanded that you and your brother hang out, no matter where it was that you went. Not to your surprise, your brother was quick to call up the rest of his band and suggest they rehearse. Which meant you were forced to go along.

His car rolled to a stop on the Heffley’s driveway, the garage open with the other band mates standing around the drum set with the name Löded Diper painted on it. You groaned as you exited the car, realizing you were to spend the rest of your night listening to them play.

Your brother greeted the rest of the band, already exchanging jokes and banter. You had been relieved that they hadn’t noticed you and you snuck past them, hoping to find some spot in the corner where you wouldn’t receive any attention.

As you searched for a neat spot to sit (without spiders), the laughter seemed to stop and the room was quiet except for the shuffle of your feet against the floor. You froze before turning around to face the band.

“Who’s that?” the one sitting at the drums asked, pointing at you with his drumstick. You narrowed your eyes slightly, glaring at the boy for his lack of manners.

“Is that your girlfriend?” another asked and a chorus of “ooh”s and laughter filled the air. Your brother was quick to dismiss it, hushing the band.

“Gross, man, she’s my sister!” he shouted over them. Your arms crossed over your chest as they all simmered down. “She has to stay here. She won’t talk or do anything,” then he turned to you, “right?”

“Yes sir,” you mocked sarcastically, flopping yourself down into an old lawn chair you found.

It wasn’t long before the floor was practically vibrating with the volume of their music and the sounds filled your ears. You sat and picked at your nails, imagining what the family inside the home must’ve thought of the blaring music coming from the garage. Surely if it were you, you would’ve been exhausted of hearing your son play all the time.

They played for hours but it hadn’t felt as long as you thought it would’ve felt. You had spaced out most of the time, daydreaming of anything your mind dreamt up which occupied your time. Occasionally, you found yourself unconsciously tapping the armrest to the rhythm of whatever tune they were playing but you would stop anytime you caught yourself doing it.

It was pushing 10 o’clock when two of them started to pack up. Unfortunately, your brother was not one of them. Even after the departure of two band mates, your brother and the drummer played on for a few painfully long songs.

You were on the edge of the seat, elbows resting on your thighs as you anxiously fidgeted with the rings on your fingers. The final song wrapped up and you clapped absentmindedly and your brother gave you a puzzled look, assuming you had been paying no attention.

Your brother started to pack up his guitar and you rose out of your seat, eager to leave. You were already exiting the garage when your brother stopped you.

“Slow down. I’m going to the bathroom first, then we’ll leave,” your brother explained before rushing off to the bathroom. You lightly sighed and turned back to the garage. The drummer was pacing around, avoiding looking even in the vicinity of you, as he spun the drumstick around in his hand.

Your brother seemed to be M.I.A., leaving you and his drummer alone in the garage for an extended period of time. Trying to soothe the awkwardness and silence in the room, you attempted to spark up a conversation.

“I never got your name,” you spoke quietly, turning to face him. His pacing came to a halt and he glanced at you.

“Why do you wanna know my name?” he asked curiously, sounding mildly irritated. You rolled your eyes and sighed lightly.

“I was just trying to make small talk, alright?” you explained, frustrated. It was a simple question, you didn’t understand why he was trying to make a big deal out of it.

After a moment of silence, he finally answered. “It’s Rodrick,” he mumbled. He stole another glance at you. “You?”

“Y/n,” you replied, letting a small smile stretch across your lips. A grin began to form on Rodrick’s face, lighting up from your smile. He faced away from you, trying to cover it up.

The room went still again and you caught Rodrick stealing glances at you as his pacing resumed. You walked to the driveway and sat down, looking up at the stars, waiting to leave. You could hear Rodrick stop, and you turned back to catch him staring at you, brows furrowed. You shifted your gaze back to the stars, admiring the way they lit up the darkness of the sky. Footsteps shuffled closer to you and Rodrick was sat beside you, leaving a wide space between the two of you. Both of his drumsticks tapped against his leg as he looked around anxiously.

“How do you do that drumstick spin?” you asked curiously, turning your attention to him. “I saw you do it when you guys were playing.” He shrugged a little, seemingly acting shy or embarrassed. “Could you teach me?” you asked quietly and a faint smile started to stretch across his lips.

It was a little while before your brother had returned, mouth full of food. You and Rodrick had been talking as he tried to teach you. You both turned around, pausing your movement with the drumsticks, as your brother stumbled out the door.

“Man, you’ve got some great food in there,” he started, muffled and laughing. His face dropped when he noticed you were beside Rodrick, closer than you had started. He pointed between the two of you and started to swallow the rest of the food in his mouth so his next string of words would be clear. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” you replied, standing up. Rodrick quickly scrambled to his feet after you, nearly falling over again. “I just asked Rodrick to teach me something.” You were being vague and you could tell it was setting your brother off.

“Y/n, get in the car. I need to talk to Rodrick,” your brother demanded. You frowned a little.

Handing Rodrick’s drumstick back to him, you walked to the car and tossed yourself in the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. You pouted slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. Despite your initial thought of Rodrick, you had a better time talking to him than most guys your age. Granted, Rodrick was only a year older, but it was different. Maybe it was the added aspect of him being your brother’s bandmate that made it more exciting. But you were unbothered by that fact, you had just wished you had gotten to talk to him more.

Rodrick and your brother talked for a while and when your brother got in the car, he seemed pissed. He stayed silent through the car ride and the tension was practically suffocating you. It’s not like you and Rodrick had done anything.

Your parents were already home by the time you pulled into the driveway. They were sat on the couch, watching some movie together. It was nearly 10:30 but your parents had long since given up on a curfew for the two of you.

You greeted your parents and wished them goodnight before running off to your room. You hoped your brother wouldn’t hold a grudge against you and the whole Rodrick thing would just blow over in the morning. Unfortunately, that wasn’t Rodrick’s intention.

The bell rang, signaling the school day’s end. Kids poured out of classrooms, their laughter and shouts filling the hall. You rushed to your locker and fumbled for the lock.

You and your brother had worked things out. He had told you just to stay away from Rodrick and he said he had told Rodrick the same thing. Seems like Rodrick missed that part.

A hand slammed your locker shut, startling you. A tall figure with dark messy hair and some sort of graphic t-shirt tucked only in the front behind a pair of jeans stood there. Rodrick smirked, leaning up against the locker next to yours. You were stunned, a half full backpack in your hands with your jaw hanging slack.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, pushing him away as you started to unlock your locker once more.

“I go to school here,” he retorted. You rolled your eyes and quickly shoved the rest of your things in your bag.

“No shit?” you questioned sarcastically, closing your locker. His brow furrowed. “I meant what are you doing talking to me?” He smiled, looking away from you.

“Well, I decided I don’t care what your brother tells me to do,” he replied simply, a smirk still plastered on his lips. God, you wished you could smack it off.

“So, what, you wanna talk to me now?” you pestered, zipping up your backpack and slinging it on one shoulder.

“Who said I didn’t want to talk to you before?” he blurted out. He froze, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. You could feel a slight blush creep on your face but you dismissed it, shaking your head. You started to walk away but Rodrick followed, still trying to keep your attention.

“Do you need something from my brother or are you really just here to bother me?” you asked as you pushed open the front doors, exiting the school. Rodrick grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side, away from the crowd of students eager to get home.

“This isn’t about your brother. You could come over and I could finish teaching you-” he rambled but you stopped him.

“You must be crazy, Rodrick. If my brother sees me standing here with you right now, I’m as good as dead, and so are you,” you urged, trying to walk away from him but he pulled you back.

“Then come over tonight. Just you. He won’t see then,” Rod suggested. Your jaw seemed to drop a little and you nearly gave in. You shook your head.

“No, no, no, he’ll ask where I was or where i’m going and he won’t stop until he figures it out,” you tried to explain, attempting to flee one last time but he pulled you back.

“Then just lie. If he asks me, I’ll do the same.” You paused, and swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Why are you so determined to talk to me?” you questioned, looking at him puzzled. He looked down, biting the inside of his cheek. He shrugged and his eyes looked everywhere but you.

You hated to admit it but you were disappointed. You were hoping to get an answer out of Rodrick but as the moments passed and there was nothing but shared silence between you two, you left. And that night, you almost considered going over to his house but you thought better of it and stayed home.

The same thing happened the next day. And the day after that. And for a little while after that. He incessantly pestered you day after day. Some days, he only spoke to you briefly, asking if you knew whether or not your brother was coming over for a band rehearsal. Other days, it seemed like he didn’t know your brother existed and he only asked about you. It was getting easier to tell him no, even if you wanted to say yes. He was expecting rejection.

By the second week of asking, he was losing interest and would take no as answer right away instead of asking repeatedly after that. And on Friday, he didn’t ask at all. You saw him walking to his van, headphones in with his head down. You frowned, watching him tentatively, hoping he was fetching something from the car and he would turn back and ask you.

As the weekend came along, you tapped your desk with your pen. There was a pile of crumbled up papers beside you and your notebook was nearly halfway ripped out. You frustratedly drew a bunch of scribbles on the page when no words would come out. You torn the piece of paper out and crumbled it, tossing it with the rest of the papers. You gave up, tossing your pen on your desk and turning to your bed. You flopped down and stared at your ceiling blankly. You hadn’t managed to stop thinking about Rodrick since you had seen him walking away. You shut your eyes, trying to clear your head.

Rodrick was doing the same in his room. He blasted music in his ears, trying to occupy his time. Calling him head over heels was an understatement, but it was a statement he couldn’t wrap his head around. You were annoyed because you couldn’t stop thinking about him for a day. He’d been hung up on you for weeks. At first, he thought nothing of it. He thought you were cool, cooler than your brother, and he just wanted to talk to you again. But the more he saw you and the more he talked you (even though every time you spoke, you were turning him down), he was becoming crazy over you. He’d do anything to impress you, making a fool of himself in the process. He wished you would notice him. Every band rehearsal he had, he prayed that your brother would bring you along again. He was always disappointed. But he would never say he had feelings cause he didn’t believe he had any for you.

It was Saturday night and your guilt was eating you alive. You paced your room for a while, trying to clear your thoughts but nothing worked. You ended up surrendering into temptation. You booked it downstairs and swiped the car keys off the counter. Unfortunately, your brother was downstairs.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stopping you at the door.

“My friend’s house, why?” you replied innocently, hiding your intentions.

“Then why are you in a hurry?” he questioned. You racked your brain for a response and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Girl problems,” you answered, knowing he wouldn’t ask anymore questions after that. He made a face of disgust and walked back to the couch. You let out a light sigh of relief before scurrying out the door.

It wasn’t long before you pulled to a stop in the Heffley’s driveway. You nervously walked up the front steps and hesitated before ringing the doorbell. You thought you had the wrong house when a boy, who looked to be only 12, answered the door.

“Is Rodrick here?” you asked cautiously, anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. The boy’s jaw dropped and he glanced back inside the house.

“You’re here for Rodrick?” he marveled. “Rodrick?” he asked again in shock. You smiled a little, some of the nervousness easing. He remained stunned as he invited you in.

“Who was it?” a woman’s voice called from the kitchen. You started to realize how much of mistake this was. The boy looked at you again.

“What’s your name?” he asked quietly.

“Y/n,” you mumbled.

“It’s one of Rodrick’s friends, Y/n,” the boy answered. You could hear footsteps coming closer now and you panicked, wishing you could turn back and flee.

“But y/n sounds like a girl’s name,” the woman spoke quietly and she seemed pleasantly surprised when her eyes found you. You didn’t look like most of Rodrick’s friends. Sure, this wasn’t the best you looked but you were more put together than the rest of his friends.

“Oh! Hi!” she exclaimed. Oh god, you thought to yourself, I’m meeting his parents. “I’m Susan, Rodrick’s mom. It’s so good to meet you,” she went on, extending her hand out to you. You felt bad considering your hands were a bit clammy from all the anxiety you felt, but you shook her hand anyway out of politeness. “Greg, will you go get Rodrick?” she asked the boy and he nodded and reluctantly ran up the stairs.

“I-I didn’t mean to interrupt or show up at a bad time or anything,” you stuttered but she smiled and shook her head.

“Nonsense! Would you like to stay for dinner?” she offered. Your eyes widened a little.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you,” you quickly replied. Footsteps came running down the stairs and your attention diverted. The boy, alongside Rodrick, came running down the stairs. Your heart seemed to be pounding out of your chest, thumping obnoxiously in your ears. Your eyes frantically looked between the three of them. You could only assume your face was turning red.

“Why have you never told me about her, Rodrick?” Susan asked, a smile still on her face. “She seems lovely.” You forced a polite smile but it faltered when you caught Rodrick’s eye.

“Guess I forgot,” he lied.

“Uh, Rodrick?” you asked, your voice breaking. You cleared your throat. “Can i talk to you?” A small smirk started to form on his lips.

“Yeah, come on, we can talk in my room,” he suggested. You swallowed a lump in your throat and followed him carefully up the stairs. Your eyes were glassy and you could feel your lip start to bleed as you continuously chewed on it.

His room was in the attic which only distanced you further away from your escape route. He flopped down onto his bed, resting his back against the headboard and crossing his legs over one another. He put his hands behind his head, the smirk still on his lips.

“So, you changed your mind, huh?” Rodrick chuckled. You could feel the pink rush to your cheeks, wishing he hadn’t looked as good as he did. But, god, you wished you could slap him and take the smirk away from his face.

“If my brother finds out,” you pause, stepping closer to him. “If you tell him, Rodrick, I will-”

“You’ll what, sweetheart?” Rodrick teased, leaning forward so he was closer to you. He chuckled when your jaw went slack, flustered and speechless.

You managed to regain your confidence and you pushed him away from you so he was leaning against the headboard again.

“I’m leaving. This was a mistake,” you explained, ready to dash for the exit. Rodrick was already on his feet and blocking the staircase within the blink of an eye.

“How is this a mistake?” he asked, keeping you from leaving. You sighed and tried to push him aside but he fought back.

“Rodrick,” you warned but he didn’t budge.

“If this is a mistake, why’d you come here in the first place?” Rodrick asked, searching your eyes for an answer. You paused, looking away. Your shoulders shrugged and you could hear him faintly sigh.

“How come you keep trying to talk to me at school? I met you once at a band rehearsal, it was nothing!” Your voice was starting to raise, unaware of your emotions.

“I know that was nothing! I just don’t know what it is! I don’t know why, okay?” Rodrick shouted back. He was sure his parents would be able to hear if they walked by, but that was one of the last things on his mind.

“What, do you like me or something?” Your voice came out harsh and impolite and you wished you had shut up a long time ago. You shut your eyes, and looked down. “I-I’m sorry,” you began to ramble but Rodrick wasn’t listening, too enveloped by his own thoughts.

He couldn’t like you. He could never. He liked Heather Hills. He’s spent forever chasing after her and doing everything to impress her. That’s who he liked. You were just his friend’s annoying little sister. Just because you talked to him first or that you had an interest in his band didn’t mean he liked you. It didn’t mean you liked him either. Just because he spent weeks chasing after you doesn’t mean it was romantically inclined, right.

“Y/n,” Rodrick spoke over your stutters of an apology. You went quiet, eyes glassy. He hesitated, swallowing a lump in his throat. “You wanna go to the dance with me?” Your eyes went wide and your brow furrowed.

“What? What does that have to do with anything?” you questioned, confused and dazed.

“I was going to ask you. I don’t know why,” he added. “There’s a dance in about a month. I was going to ask you after we had hung out but I think you’d like to leave now and I just had to ask-”

“Are you crazy?” you asked, bewildered. He fell silent. He knew it had been the wrong time to ask but he couldn’t hold the words from rolling off tongue his any longer.

“Is that a yes or no?” he asked. You shook your head and pushed him aside.

“No, Rodrick. And don’t ask for a reason. There’s too many of them.”

The dismissing bell rang, marking the end of the day. You hurried to your locker and quickly piled everything inside. Part of you hoped that Rodrick would come running up and slam your locker shut, scaring you the way it always did. You stood foolishly, glancing around for any sight of him. When there was nothing, you closed it and made your way towards the exit.

You trudged to your brother’s car, who you shared a ride with, and heard him arguing with someone else. You tried to hide behind the side of the car and peek your head up to watch and listen to what he was saying. That’s when you noticed the white van parked beside you with Löded Diper painted on it. It was Rodrick.

“You asked her to the dance?! What the hell, dude?! She’s my sister!” your brother shouted. You felt your face flush and your heart stopped.

“Look, man, I’m sorry! She didn’t say yes so what does it matter anyway?” Rodrick fought back. You glanced around nervously before you decided to make your presence known before the argument got any worse.

“What are you guys talking about?” you asked, acting oblivious. They glanced at each other then looked back at you.

“Nothing, get in the car,” your brother said, sliding into the driver’s seat. Rodrick looked annoyed and hurt and he avoided looking at you, hiding the way the tears started to pool in his eyes. He shook his head and got in the front seat of his van. You swung open the car door and flopped yourself down into the seat, wishing you could’ve said something to Rodrick.

Later that night, your brother was passed out asleep on the couch, some television show blasting on the tv. You swiftly snuck your way into his room, searching around for the piece of paper where your brother kept phone numbers. Your brother was terrible when it came to remembering numbers, which became an advantage for you.

You found the slip of paper in his desk drawer and you quickly scanned the list until you found Rodrick’s number. You pulled out your phone and hurriedly dialed it before scurrying out the room in case your brother had woken up.

The phone rung for a while as you paced your room until a tired voice on the other end of the line picked up.

“Hello?” the voice asked, raspy and ridden with sleep. You let out a light sigh of relief, glad he had picked up.

“Hey, Rodrick, can we talk?” you asked, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth.

“Who is this?” he groaned, followed by the rustle of what sounded like bedsheets.

“I’m afraid if I told you, you’d hang up,” you mumbled. Finally waking up, your words seem to catch his attention and he managed to put 2 and 2 together.

“Y/n?” he guessed, knowing the sound of your voice all too well now. Your eyes shifted down and you hesitated before answering with a quiet “yes”.

“Look, Rod, I’m sorry about Saturday. I was a total ass and I was just confused and tired, and I know those are just a bunch of excuses but-” He interrupted.

“It’s fine. You were right.” He sounded run down and miserable.

Silence filled the room and you only felt more guilty as the seconds passed. You racked your brain for something to say, feeling the tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Are you still going to that dance?” you asked, your voice breaking from the tears coming on. Rodrick was quiet for a moment and you thought maybe he hung up or fell asleep again.

“Yeah, why?” he questioned, sitting up in his bed curiously. You shut your eyes in embarrassment before you spoke again.

“If you don’t already have another date, I wanna go. With you.” His end of the line went dead silent. You pulled the phone away from your ear and checked to make sure he hadn’t hung up this time. You shut your eyes tightly, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all. You should’ve never called him, you should’ve never gone over to his house, you shouldn’t have talked to him at the rehearsal-

The line clicked and he was gone, leaving without a response. Your heart sank and a hot tear rolled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away and threw your phone across the room, not caring if it broke. You could feel more tears coming on and you buried your face in your hands.

You were left sobbing for a while before you heard the doorbell ring, followed by a long string of impatient knocks. You quickly wiped your tears away and checked your reflection on your way out of your room to make sure you didn’t look like a shit-show.

The loud rapping on the door didn’t stop until you reached the door. You swung the door open, prepared to shout at whoever had been knocking at the door annoyingly for so long. You froze when you saw the figure outside the door, your mouth going slightly agape. Before you could even fully process it, lips were pressed against yours and you felt your heart skip a beat. Your head went fuzzy, unable to think straight. You could only feel his lips and the rush of blood going to your face and how you could feel every goosebump rising on your skin. It felt nearly euphoric, making every bad thought slip away as if they’d never happened.

His lips separated from yours and your eyes fluttered open. Your eyes were met with glassy brown doe eyes with a few strands of shaggy deep brown hair falling in front of them. His tall figure stood over you, leaning down close to you. His eyes flicked down to your lips then back to your eyes. He started to move in for another kiss but you pulled back, putting a hand on his chest to push him away. You shook your head.

“Not here. My brother could see,” you whispered. Thankfully your brother hadn’t woken up from his deep sleep on the couch even after the persistent knocking and the doorbell. But you weren’t gonna risk it.

“I don’t care,” Rodrick mumbled and he brought his lips to yours again. You kept him close to you but pushed him away from the door and closed it behind you. Your back pressed against the door and you pulled him closer to you by his collar.

When your lips broke apart again, a smile spread across your face as you pressed your forehead to his. “So, about the dance,” you began slowly. His lips brushed against yours again and his hand cupped your face.

“That later,” he mumbled. “How about you come over tonight?”

———

a/n: okay so i may have gotten a bit carried away with this one, but i hope this matched your request!